The Greengrass Contract

Part Three: Chapter Four

-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-by ncronan

A/N: This is the second to last chapter. Nothing else to say. I'm just happy we're almost done. WAIT! Go to my profile and vote on the poll! You'll see. But do it! Just . . . do it! Don't let you dreams be dreams. Just . . . . DO IT! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.WARNING: Character death (I'm so so so sorry I cried so much writing it ugh)

Part IIIChapter Four: The Third Task

"Hey, Potter."

Harry turned, dressed from head to toe in hard leather magic armor. He was met with Draco, standing there awkwardly. The other champions were sitting together behind Harry, not conversing in anticipation for the Third Task, which, in their opinion, had come far too quickly. It'd been a few months since the horcrux in his head had been banished, and since then Harry had suffered no more attacks. As the announcer began to dictate the event loudly outside of the tent, Harry responded.

"Yes, Draco?" Harry asked, showing him courtesy with the use of his first name. Draco recognized this as a bit of a jab at his use of Harry's last name but ignored it.

"I just wanted to say thank you. For you and Daphne helping with Pansy and my date." Draco said quickly. Harry crossed his arms.

"Is that all?" He asked, coaxing for more. He had his suspicions about the blonde-haired boy and said boy glared at him.

"Fine. Thanks for – you know – talking to me and stuff." He said gruffly. Harry chuckled, trying to take control of the conversation despite his heart leaping through his chest with nervousness.

"It's no problem. We've both changed for the better." Harry responded simply. Draco nodded before turning on his heel.

"Hey – Draco." Harry said before he could leave. Draco stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"I think I know why you're really pissed about being betrothed to Daphne. She's not really your type, is she?" Harry continued, putting emphasis on 'your type'.

Draco blushed a deep shade of pink, getting his meaning. "Now if you're implying that I'm some kind of poof -"

"Not at all!" Harry said quickly, but with a smile. "And you don't have to confirm or deny it at all. Your face already has."

Draco growled, utterly embarrassed and left the tent, grumbling, "Bloody arsehole."

Harry chuckled in his moment of triumph before remembering the situation and turning to his friends. They were too focused on themselves to have listened in on Harry's conversation. They were all relatively in the same position; sitting, hands clasped together, looking down, Angelina shaking slightly from nervousness.

Harry sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders, calming her. "Hey. We'll be fine. Do you remember the plan?"

Her nervousness subsided slightly. "Yeah. If we see each other, we work together. If we're in trouble, shoot red sparks."

"Right." Harry rubbed her shoulders. "You'll be fine, Ann."

Across from them, Viktor gave him a look and nodded up. Harry stood and turned to see Daphne instead of Draco standing there. Her lips were pursed together, probably because she wasn't happy that Harry had been in close proximity with his ex. He smiled apologetically and opened his arms for a hug.

Daphne instantly forgot about her jealousy and rushed to him, throwing his arms around him and sounding as though she were on the verge of tears. Unbeknownst to either members of the couple, the two other girls in the room were watching them with a strange mixture of sadness and jealousy, one of them with a lot of guilt.

As Harry silently held Daphne in his arms, another figure stepped into the tent and walked in a straight line to Viktor. With an 'oof!' Hermione latched on to the Bulgarian seeker, who she had grown incredibly close to recently; almost as close as she was with Harry. Harry glanced at them out of the corner of his eye before focusing back on Daphne.

Daphne looked up at him tearfully. "Harry, please don't die."

Harry smiled, trying to remove the sorrow from the situation. "I won't. I heard your parents are here; I wouldn't want to embarrass myself in front of my future step-parents."

Daphne giggled, although her throat was thick and it sounded somewhat demonic, but Harry ignored that and hugged her tighter as the announcer called out the champions. Harry held Daphne for several more seconds before letting her go and giving her a chaste kiss on the lips and hugging her once more.

"I'm going to live. We all are." Harry promised into her hair. She sniffed.

"You better." She said sternly. With that, she left the tent to join her parents in the stands.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply before looking back. Fleur and Angelina had stood and were preparing (mentally and physically) for the maze that they'd been briefed on already. Hermione was still with Viktor; but Harry glanced back just in time to see Hermione disentangle herself from the seeker and pressing her lips against his.

Harry choked on his own throat at the sight and began to cough violently as Fleur and Angelina looked at him in concern before looking to see what had happened. Hermione continued to keep her mouth on Viktor's before she opened her eyes and saw two champions watching, with the other supporting himself with his legs and laughing.

She shoved Viktor back violently and grew red with embarrassment. The man let himself be shoved and he looked around with wide eyes. Harry wheezed out, "You absolute horn-dog, Hermione."

She huffed and walked up to him before embracing him in a friendly way. "Don't get yourself or anyone else killed, Harry."

Harry winced at the implications but nodded. "Gotcha."

And so she left, leaving a shocked Viktor as Karkaroff, Maxine, Dumbledore (who was Angelina's 'sponsor') and Moody walked in. They went directly to their champions and spoke quietly to them, issuing orders and suggestions. Moody leaned on his staff and looked at him for a good while with his magical eye before saying quietly, "I know you want to be with your friends, boy, but you have to do as I say. You need to head southwest once you enter the maze; you can easily do a point-me spell, I'm sure. The most important thing is that you must touch the Goblet alone; it's a portkey to bring you back here, and then we'll retrieve the other champions. If more than one person touches it, you could get hurt.."

Harry knit his eyebrows. He knew for a fact that portkeys could carry any multitude of people at a time, and Moody as an ex-Auror must know that as well. He wondered why he could have been lying to him.

"As for me, I'll be overseeing the tournament in my office. If anything goes wrong, I'll notify the authorities immediately." Moody continued, slapping Harry on the back. "I know you've been trained well. All I can say is good luck."

Harry nodded but once again alarm bells sounded in his brain. There was absolutely no reason for Moody to stay back in his office. Instead, he simply said, "Thank you, Professor. For everything."

The man just nodded and led him out of the tent, trailed by the other champions and their advisors. Harry glanced back to see them all with the same anxious look on their face. He couldn't blame them. Whatever was out there would test his abilities and the abilities of his friends to the max.

He stepped out into the small clearing. Around them, there were stands upon stands of onlookers, and Harry quickly located Daphne and her family in the writhing and shouting mass. Daphne had tears in her eyes, and her mother had a firm hand on her shoulder. Harry made eye contact with her father and there was a very strange look in them. He understood it right away; they both knew that if Harry died, the contract would be terminated and Daphne would be free to choose whom she marries. But at the same time, the man knew that Daphne was infatuated with the boy and wouldn't bear to see him go.

Harry took a deep breath and looked away, to the maze. There were four entrances into a massive hedge, and Harry knew beyond that was a massive maze, littered with deadly creatures. After only about twenty feet in, Harry could tell that the mist was so thick that the champions would barely be able to see anything in front of them.

Harry looked above the stands to see the same large screens used in the Second Task and heard the familiar buzz of one of the camera-drone-insect-things. As Moody took his place next to Harry, Harry glanced down the row at the other champions. His heart was in his throat, and he felt like the most cowardly man in the world. He knew the others felt the same.

"As you all know," the announcer said, "whoever touches the Goblet first will be declared champion. The points will dictate who will come second, third, and fourth. Champions, you may enter on the count of three. One."

Harry drew his wand and breathed deeply.


Harry looked down the row one more time and made eye contact with Angelina. She looked back for only a split second, but Harry could see utter terror in her eyes. He would have done some placating gesture, but the announcer continued.


Harry glared down the corridor. The wind blew eerily, and the would-be sunset was blocked by a filthy overcast. His adrenaline began to pump as the announcer finished.



"Come on, Ann!"

Harry grabbed her hand and tugged her along through the now-cold mist.

An hour had passed. Harry hadn't encountered any dangerous creatures, but only a few minutes in, he'd encountered Angelina, being attacked by two dementors. He'd easily dispatched of the dark creatures, and since then they'd been trudging through the maze, Harry heading in a vague southwest direction. Angelina hadn't spoken much, as she was petrified with fear.

Only a few seconds ago had they seen the red sparks in the sky; hard to miss, as night had fallen behind the dark thunder clouds. Said sparks had flown into the air quite startlingly close to them; and as they arrived at the scene, they were shocked to see Viktor bent over a glassy-eyed Fleur. The Seeker looked up at him, his face smeared with dirt and blood.

"I heard her screaming and came as quickly as I could; someone was here, and was cursing her. I don't know if she's dead or not." He said, absolutely horrified. Naturally, Harry had the impression that his friend and hexed her himself, but that was wiped away as he saw the look on Viktor's face.

"I didn't see clearly, but the man who hexed her had a staff." Viktor said, and then hesitated, looking down at his leg. Harry followed his gaze to see Viktor's calf with a massive gash in its side. "It looked like the man you talked to before, Harry. I was able to fight him off but he got me with a good cutting curse."

As Angelina bent down and tried to assess Fleur's condition, Harry put some pieces together in his mind but it didn't make sense. Moody was trying to help him win the tournament and had come here personally to prevent the other champions from succeeding. Whatever he was doing or who he supported, he was definitely not on the side of the Light.

"Harry, she's not dead," Angelina said quietly, "but it looks like she's really, really unconscious, if you know what I -"

Her words were cut off when something appeared out of the mist a couple hundred yards away from them, snarling. Two massive hairy limbs cut through the fog and it swept away completely, revealing an acromantula the size of a city bus. At the same time, the hedge next to them split open, and a hundred yard down was a glowing goblet on a pedestal.

The three panicked. Harry and Angelina stood to confront the creature, who was beginning to make its way towards them, but Viktor groaned and stood before fixing them with a stern gaze.

"You two must go to the Goblet." He said firmly. "I will protect Fleur from this creature. If you do it quickly, I will be able to hold it off until this tournament ends and they send help."

Harry's immediate response was a refusal, but Viktor grabbed his shoulder, cutting him off. "Harry, you must do this. If we do not get Fleur help soon, she could die."

Harry growled before clasping his arm. "Good luck, Viktor. Keep her safe."

The Bulgarian nodded, clasping his arm back. "Likewise."

Grabbing Angelina's hand, Harry sprinted down the corridor. Angelina nervously tugged along, not happy with what they were doing at all. Soon, they were standing in front of the shining blue cup. They exchanged a glanced before looking back down the clear corridor. At the end, Viktor was kneeling over their friend, casting curse upon curse beyond their line of sight.

With a deep breath, Harry locked eyes with Angelina and grabbed the cup.

The familiar feeling of being port-keyed seized him, but before he could be sick he and Angelina slammed against the ground, groaning. Angelina was the first to recover. She pushed herself up and looked around.

"Harry. Get up. Is this part of the tournament?" She whispered fearfully. Harry did so. They were in what looked to be a cemetery with a large house in the distance, on a hill. The moon had peaked out of the clouds, casting long shadows from the tombstones, and one in particular. Before Harry could look around more, someone yelled an indiscernible spell and he was shoved into the air towards the large tombstone, sporting a grim reaper-like thing on top.

As the statue brought its hand that held a scythe around Harry's throat, securing him in place, a few raindrops began to fall. He looked around, gasping for breath as Angelina was thrown against a similarly large tombstone, her feet dangling several inches off the ground.

"Master, the boy came in with a girl." A nervous, rat-like voice quivered. Peter Pettigrew stepped into the light, the moon casting shadows on his rodent features. He appeared to be swaddling something in the shape of a newborn.

To Harry's horror, a rasping voice crept forth from the thing wrapped in cloth. "I don't care. Kill her after. Quickly, throw me in the cauldron."

Pettigrew quickly obliged, waving his wand, causing a large cauldron to appear in the center of the cemetery. With almost irresponsible haste, Pettigrew unceremoniously tossed in what Harry knew was Voldemort's weak form.

Pettigrew turned to Angelina, a sadistic smile on his face. He approached her as she struggled against the curse holding her to the tomb.

"My Lord tells me to kill you quickly." Pettigrew said. But then he smiled in further. "But it has been years since I've had some real fun."

As he sad this, his hairy and frankly disgusting hand softly touched her leg and began to move up. "It would be a pity to pass up such a delicious opportunity . . ."

As he moved his head forward to get a good look of his prize, Angelina brought one of her legs up and kicked him directly across the face. Rain began to poor down harder as Pettigrew snarled, holding his cheek. He whipped his head back around.

"You will pay for that, girl. Avada Kedavra!" Pettigrew screamed, jabbing his wand towards her. Angelina knew what was coming; she whipped her head towards hairy, tears coming forth from her eyes and her mouth opening to say – something. But it was too late.

It was quicker than Harry had envisioned. A flash of green light, and just like that, Angelina's expression left her face, changing to lifeless eyes. Her head lolled towards Harry, and he really began to struggle against the statue, rage building up within him as he watched one of his best friends' tears come down her dead face among the pounding rain.

Pettigrew chuckled. "A pity. I was hoping to have some real fun with her; perhaps I still can when my master is reformed." He turned to Harry and stalked towards him, watching as the boy bloodied his fingers, scratching at the stature and kicking madly.

Quite suddenly, the rat Animagus pointed his wand at the Boy-Who-Lived. "Crucio!"

Unimaginable pain coursed through Harry's body, as though every nerve ending within him erupted into flames. He threw his legs about and thrashed madly, just wishing the pain to go away, coupled with the mad grief from Angelina's lifeless eyes. His torturer ended the curse after what seemed like an eternity to Harry; in reality, it had been five whole minutes. A full minute longer than it had taken to drive Frank and Alice Longbottom to insanity.

When the man finally released Harry from his misery, the boy gasped and fell against the cold, wet arms of the statue, but instead of feeling weak, a new energy forced more adrenaline into his blood. He began to kick again, despite the aches in his body.

Pettigrew hexed his feet quickly, sticking them to the statue before approaching Harry with a leer. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken."

He drew a knife and pressed it against the skin of Harry's forearm. That's what unleashed him.

With a savage scream, Harry pushed himself down from the statue's arms, scraping his cheek and the whole side of his face as he blindly went through the pain. He dropped to the ground before drawing his wand and casting four curses in a matter of three seconds. A combination he knew Pettigrew would never be prepared for.

First, a stupefy. A simple distraction; it would cause the rat to throw up his shield. Second, the shield-penetrating spell. It would completely destroy his shield and leave him defenseless. Third, an expelliarmus, to prevent him from casting anything in the one second window in which eh would be able to shield himself again. And finally, reducto.

In the space of four total seconds, Pettigrew went from defending himself to exploding in a shower of blood, coating many tombstones in the surrounding area, not even getting the chance to utter a scream.

Harry immediately walked past the pile of organs on the ground and pointed his wand at the cauldron and sending a simple, overpowered blasting hex. The cauldron exploded into metal pieces, water streaming everywhere; unfortunately, no body of Voldemort was to be seen. However, a shadowy spirit-like shape rose from the cauldron, stared at Harry for a split second before fleeing the scene, vanishing in the rain.

Not losing a single second, Harry canceled the curses keeping Angelina against the wall and almost lost it as her rag-doll body fell in his arms. His breath hitched, but he knew he needed to leave quickly to stop the tournament and get Viktor and Fleur to safety; then he would mourn.

He put her over her shoulder, ignoring the pain plaguing him, and limped his way to the cup as tears began to form in his eyes. He grabbed the Goblet with his opposite hand and he was port-keyed once again.

Harry hit the ground, hard, on his knees. As the crowd cheered, Harry began to sob. Dumbledore rushed forward as the cheering suddenly stopped. It was followed by horrified screams and shocked silence as Harry laid Angelina on her back and began to sob.

Everything else was lost in Harry's ears as he gazed down at Angelina's face. The rain mixed with her tears, but now there was an almost content look on her face. Harry's tears fell with the rain. He wondered how she could look so content when she'd just left him and his life.

As medi-wizards rushed forward, a bony but firm hand gripped his shoulder and gently tried to pull him away from the body of one of his best friends. Harry tried to resist, but he was in such a vulnerable state that Dumbledore was able to hoist him to his feet. Instead of telling him what happened, Harry pushed his recent memories towards his Headmaster's mind.

As the old man's eyes widened, Moody came up behind him. Before he could utter a word, Harry drew his wand and sent a stunner directly at him. The man crumpled as the Minister came forward, extremely confused. Dumbledore went to explain things to him immediately.

As he did, Harry turned and dropped to his knees once more next to Angelina, who was surrounded by a team of three wizards and witches, helplessly trying to revive her as chaos continued to erupt in the stands. Harry looked up to see a team of Aurors coming forth from the hedge, escorting Fleur and Viktor between them; Fleur was conscious now, but she looked extremely weak and she was shaking. Viktor was limping, but when they saw Harry they rushed away and finally noticed the body on the ground. Fleur promptly burst into tears and Viktor fell to his knees and lowered his head to the ground.

Harry burst into fresh tears, not even a little bit ashamed of displaying his weakness to anyone there or in the world. He was too caught up in grief to even recognize that a soothing hand touched his shoulder, and Daphne knelt next to him. As Harry curled into a ball and sobbed more, Daphne laid her arms around him and whispered things in his ear. Harry grabbed at Angelina hand and squeezed it, only to find it cold and wet as the grass around them.

Vaguely, he heard Fudge ordering that Moody be arrested and put on trial immediately, probably at Dumbledore's urging. Across Angelina's still form, Viktor was being comforted by Hermione, who was crying herself. He then heard Dumbledore using an amplifying charm to order everyone to evacuate the premises and go to the Great Hall. Daphne easily shrugged off the orders as her family came forth and stood behind their daughter and her betrothed somewhat awkwardly. They'd heard stories of Harry's friend Angelina but only saw now just how close Harry had been to her.

Finally, after many more minutes of tears and sobbing, Harry was brought to his feet and wrapped in a large blanket, a drying charm cast upon him. He only realized that he was shivering in the cold when someone cast a warming charm on him as well. The spell did nothing to help the darkness he felt in his heart.

With all the students gone, the staff levitated Angelina's body into the air and escorted it towards the school. Daphne kept her arms around Harry, who hadn't spoken and felt numb at the shock of another death. He only spoke once more when Daphne suddenly began to cry even more and hugged Harry very hard. For a moment, warmth spread through him and he looked at her with depressed eyes.

"Are those happy tears that I've come back or sad tears that Ann's dead?" He asked weakly. Saying that Angelina was dead came as another shock, and more tears formed in his eyes.

"I'm not telling you." She murmured stubbornly, half-smiling and half sobbing as she walked back to the castle with him.


"Ms. Greengrass, your parents await you in the Great Hall." Dumbledore said, striding into the Hospital, his usual air of quiet amusement completely gone, replaced with a grave and sad old man. "You may come back after I have spoken to the student body."

Reluctantly, Daphne stood, squeezing Harry's hand once more before leaving him in the room with Viktor and Fleur on other beds, laying down as wizards and witches nursed their wounds.

"What's their status, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked. The Hogwarts nurse answered quickly.

"Mr. Krum is being treated for acromantula venom in his blood as well as a crippled right calf. Ms. Delacour was hit with a Cruciatus that drove her unconscious; she suffering from aches and pains from the aftereffects."

"There are no mental wounds?"

Poppy hesitated before speaking quietly. Harry listened in, only pretending to be asleep as some nurses ran more diagnostic tests over his body.

"Mr. Potter was held under the Cruciatus for an unheard of time; five minutes."

Dumbledore seemed to pale as Poppy shivered and spoke. "That's several more minutes than it would take to drive the average wizard to insanity. That, coupled with the girl's death . . ."

"Has he spoken since then?" Dumbledore asked, concern obvious.

"No. He has not awoken. What is the word on the Moody character?"

"The real Alastor was being held prisoner in the imposter's office. Said imposter was Barty Crouch Junior, under polyjuice. He was tried immediately in the Ministry and the events in the graveyard were uncovered. Peter Pettigrew, the known traitor who betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort, attempted to bring Riddle back from his weakened state. Harry was port-keyed to the graveyard and killed the man, as well as Riddle's body."

"Merlin." Poppy whispered, then shook her head. "I do hope he speaks soon. I'm horrified to say I wouldn't be surprised if he was driven mad in the cemetery."

"I wasn't." Harry said quietly from his bedside. Dumbledore, Poppy and his nurses jumped, startled at his voice, but the headmaster quickly rushed over before laying a hand on Harry's head.

"Harry, m'boy." He said fondly. "You are not insane?"

Harry snorted despite the situation. "No more than I was before, thanks for asking."

Dumbledore smiled slightly before his face dropped once again. He sat heavily on the chair next to his bed. "Mr. Potter, I cannot tell you how sorry I am that the imposter was able to slip by my notice undetected."

"I understand, Professor." Harry murmured. "It is not your fault. I know that I threatened you in the beginning of the year. I only now see that it was in a fit of madness caused by that horcrux in my head. Speaking of which, I wonder why the horcrux was able to affect my mood while I have the ability to throw off the Imperius and Fleur's allure."

Dumbledore sighed, removing his hand from his head. "I am not entirely sure, but I believe it is because the horcrux was not just a parasite or coming from an external source, as a Veela's allure does or the Imperius. In essence, that piece of Riddle's soul was you."

Harry chuckled. "That makes little to no sense, but I hope we do figure it out eventually."

Dumbledore chuckled back. "Indeed. But I must ask how you are coping."

He didn't have to specify. Harry closed his eyes and sorrow filled his face and he shrugged helplessly and tears threatened to form. "My best friend is dead. I'm coping as well as anyone else would."

Dumbledore needed not say more. He held a respectful silence for a few minutes before he finally spoke again. "Harry. You said that you were giving me a chance to redeem myself to you."

Harry just nodded, his arm still over his eyes. Dumbledore sighed. "I have found a way to terminate the marriage contract between you and Ms. Greengrass."

Harry removed his arm and stared up in shock, not quite understanding him. "What?"

"When you were emancipated, you became head of House Potter and House Black. Because you are the head of two Ancient and Noble Houses, you are considered a senior to almost every other pure-blooded family in Britain; in the world, really. It is well within your right to cancel the contract and leave the bond you have with House Greengrass."

Harry was utterly shocked and thus could not speak. Dumbledore smiled grimly.

"Yes, I understand that this will be a hard choice. I know that Ms. Greengrass has acquired quite the affinity for you, but it is now possible for you to redeem your human rights and fall in love and get married without her."

Harry continued to be silent. He was still processing the information when Dumbledore stood.

"I will meet you in my office tomorrow, just before the other school depart back to their homes. You can make the decision then. And if I'm not mistaken, Ms. Greengrass has ignored my suggestion to return to the Great Hall and is instead rushing back here. I shall now address the student body about the situation. Rest well, Harry."

"Thank you, Dumbledore." Harry croaked. The old man nodded and left, passing a defiant young girl on the way out. He smiled at her before continuing on his way. Daphne rushed to his side and grabbed his hand.

"Are you alright, Harry?" She asked quietly. Harry cracked a smile at her.

"I'm not doing so well at all, but sure." He said, and Daphne giggled but sadness returned quickly and she simply held his hand.

With that, the last of Harry's resolve broke. The guilt from before overwhelmed him once more, and he suddenly spilled everything to his betrothed. First he spoke of the horcrux and how it caused him to get insane mood swings, and then he spoke of he and Fleur's first session in the Lake. Daphne teared up slightly at that but was apparently extremely understanding when Harry stressed that he hand no control over his actions and promised to prove it to her with Veritaserum when he could. When he got to the most recent situation with Fleur, tears began to roll down her cheeks in sadness and jealousy.

"I'm so sorry, Daphne." Harry whispered, his own eyes welling up. "I would never hurt you deliberately. I wanted my first time to be special but the horcrux -"

She held up a hand, tears still falling before she spoke. "You don't have to apologize, Harry. I understand you weren't in control. I am angry that you didn't tell me sooner. That's the only thing I'm mad about."

"Daphne." To their surprise, Fleur had been listening in intently, and she herself was crying slightly as well. At her words, Daphne crossed her arms, more anger than jealousy building up.

"I am sorry." Fleur said sorrowfully. "I have no excuse. I was just – I was just so excited that a man was finally immune to my allure and I gave in to his ministrations. I am sorry."

Daphne said nothing for a while. Finally, she sniffed and wiped her tears away before saying, "Fine, Delacour. I accept your apology, but you are not forgiven. Not yet."

The French girl nodded dutifully. "That is all I ask." She said, before laying down once more. Daphne turned to Harry before kissing him on the cheek and crawling into his hospital bed with him. Harry shifted, surprised, but Daphne told him to be still.

"Harry," Daphne said quietly, "I know that we were forced into this contract against our wills. I know that this whole time, you've been looking for a way out of it. I admit, I have too. But I must confess something."

She rolled on top of him lightly so as to not hurt him and put her forehead against his. "I love you, Harry Potter. I have fallen in love with you against my own will and I know that you don't love me back yet but I hope you will eventually in the years we will spend together. I love you." She said fiercely, before kissing him just as she'd said it; almost violently.

Harry kissed her back, but quickly broke it off as he remembered what Dumbledore said. He could get out of it. He could end this contract and they would both have the freedom to love and marry who they wanted. The choice once more grew far more difficult. Daphne rolled off him and nestled in his shoulder, putting her hand on his chest and nuzzling in his side.

Harry closed his eyes and brought her close to him. She was in love with him. Now he had to make the choice.

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