Honoring Deals

Honoring Deals

I made a deal with Satan.

Now, if my girlfriend had said that you'd be shocked, but it's really not a surprise that Draco Malfoy has no soul.

But there's the thing...the catch in the contract...I do have a soul.

That was the deal, I get my soul back and six months later. Basically my time ran out yesterday in the moment of what I could call pure happiness. Lucky me, its just my luck I get Hermione in bed with me and die in the middle of the best sex of my life.

Hermione always wanted to take things slow. Which is understandable considering what Blaise did to her last term. And I was a friend with that...bastard...for most of my life. To this day I still owe my peace of mind to him.

Blaise and I had been lovers for most of childhood. He's been blatantly bisexual since age seven, and I've been there hanging in the middle. Too embarrassed to say I'd shagged a guy, but constantly lingering my eyes on the hips of some cheap number down the alley.

He knew before I did that I was falling for Hermione. Blaise tried everything to get me to realize my...erm...slight...obsession with tormenting the poor girl.

Okay, fine, he resorted to neon flashing arrows and flashcards.

Point is though--I eventually got the gist.

Of course at first I thought he wanted me to go up to Potter and bugger him in the arse. Repulsed I informed Blaise that we didn't share all fantasies.

It was hard to get Hermione to realize that I was anything more than a devilishly handsome son of a gun, she didn't trust me as far as she could throw me, which was approximately two centimeters. So the trust in the Heads' commons was just perfumed lightly.

Actually it was nonexistent until did the silliest little thing.

All I did was hold the door open.

Perhaps we'd been spending a little too much time in the potion's lab because something clicked and I fell harder than I'd thought half-possible. Literally, I fell over one of her dozen book piles and landed on a crust from last night's smuggled meal.

It was September and she was studying for finals. God, I never even took the finals. I was already dead.

It was two months later when I walked into our dorm and heard the screaming. Now, growing up in the particular house that I did screams are like a lullaby. Malfoy children become accustomed to the sounds from Daddy's 'office' at a very early age.

The fact that it was Hermione screaming drew something barbaric out in me. I stormed into her room to find Blaise over her, maniacally raping her. This caused me to come to a full and complete stop...Blaise was bisexual, but really liked the color pink and had the ambition in life to be nothing more than a hairdresser, so I was expecting the closet to burst open at anytime and stay open to reveal the most astonishing collection of Prada this side of Italy.

In Italy is his full collection. All five thousand and two pieces of it.

Hermione told me I whacked out at the sight of this and that Blaise was a cowering homosexual in a matter of seconds, and then he was a carpet on her floors. Personally I was a tad bit enraged and didn't really notice when Blaise stopped wiggling and laid still and Hermione began pulling me off her antagonist.

She didn't want me to hurt him. Not even after what he'd done to her.

She never liked to talk about it. Ever. We did once and the day after I got my soul back from the buyer my father had given it to at my birth. The soulless can't love, that's what made the Malfoy family lineage so strong, we're all uncaring gits.

So I got pulled out of the will for wanting to fall in love. It didn't really matter, my father was going to long out live me, barring the off chance my mother would get fed up with him and let something slip into his evening gin.

The thought of my mother growing a spine is far too optimistic even for the dead and we all want to rise from the dead.

Having less than six months I tried to tell Hermione not to fall in love with me, but she did, she did, she did, she did, and I love her for that. She was the only person to love me, ever.

My six months were almost up, gone, used in the most incredible way I could imagine, but when they ended I tried to hang on. I just wanted to stay right there, settled inside Hermione forever, but a contract is a contract, and I'm the white sheep of the Malfoy family. So, like a fool, I honored the contract.

And now I'm dead and I'll never be there with Hermione when she explains to my daughter what the hands, heart, and crown on her necklace mean.

I wouldn't change that for the world though.