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Right Outside Your Window
They learn that they are going to marry each other on a cold day in November. Draco is twenty-one and Astoria is nineteen. Arranged marriage is rarely talked about in pureblood culture but is, to a man (or woman!), outstandingly common even after the war has supposedly equalized the Wizarding World of the United Kingdom. In such small of a community, parents know each other’s families and remember the curses and duels against each other throughout the centuries. They know who hasn’t spoken to who since 1739 and which families want heirs when. Their families have been built this way. They know themselves. They know who will lift their children up. It would be foolish to let someone else dictate a serious decision without knowing as much as they do.
Narcissa waits until the last minute to stretch out her hand to Altonia Parkinson in the Bulstrode dining room and say “you know, I’ve been thinking of Draco’s marriage” because she knows how much the Pureblood community knows. Those who still side with the dark think of them as traitors and those who are more liberal think of them as cowards. Altonia, who disowned Pansy two years prior in a desperate attempt to curry favor with a Potter centered new world, smiles gently at Narcissa. “That’s so exciting, darling. It’s a hard choice, but I know you’ll make the right decision.”
That subtle dig is the first in a long series of snubs and rejections until Narcissa gets a letter from Barak Greengrass mentioning his youngest daughter. The Greengrasses are Nouvou Riche but that wouldn’t matter to Narcissa. There are other things that matter though. Narcissa burns the letter. A few days and rejections letter, she writes back.
No Fear of Shadows Spreading Where You Stand
Draco is shoveling down a meager breakfast spread in an attempt to get away from his mother when she hands him the letter. For the most part, he practically lives in the alchemy lab he created in the lower level of the Manor most days. Meanwhile, His parents putter around upstairs, writing angry letters to newspaper columnists and growing dangerous new plants. Their lives have been upended and nothing has ever been the same sense. “What the hell is this?” His tone is sharp but the address is unfamiliar and he doesn’t really care what strangers think of him.
His mother doesn’t back down. “Your father and I have made a match for you.” “What the hell?” she sighs. “Draco.” “Who wants to marry into the Malfoys, though?” she glares at him. “Just open the letter”. He does not know Astoria Greengrass. He reads the letter, tosses it on the table, and leaves. He does not care. He's barely able to improve himself, just the tiniest bit. There is no room for someone else in this slow desperate attempt to become a better person.
Let All Be Quiet In Your Head
Astoria’s family decides to arrange her marriage to Draco Malfoy based on the input of her grandfather. The Greengrass fortune, based primarily on trading with the Greek and Turkish ministries, has suffered immensely during the war. Daphne, who has done better than she has in every sense of the word, is married to a half-blood Uruguyan Quidditch player, but four of her cousins are dead and two more are in prison. Her grandfather, ever the pragmatist, has decided not to keep all of his eggs in one basket. Daphne will be the respectable one and she will be the wealthy one. It does not matter which one of his remaining granddaughters fought in the Battle of Hogwarts. They will fall in line or face the consequences.
She is not stupid enough to think that she can make it on her own with a blood malediction, six OWLs and a trust that her grandparents control, but Astoria will not hide her extension collection of Muggle Literature for Draco’s first visit to her home She makes polite conversation about the roast and the state of her mother’s rose garden, but her grandfather nearly faints when he sees that she has left a copy of Pride and Prejudice on the garden table as they head outdoors for drinks. “Have you read it, Mr. Malfoy?” She can see how uncomfortable it makes him.
She doesn’t know yet that Draco is reading the Canterbury tales, the only piece of Muggle Literature he’s been able to reach, but he is trying.
Faith to Saunter Forward
Two weeks after the wedding, Astoria sits across Draco at the dinner table and asks him straight out if he regrets joining the Death Eaters.
He drops his fork.
She smirks. Already, they like making each other uncomfortable.
He presses his fingers against his temples. "Of course I do." She pushes her plate away to stand up and reach for his hand. "Come on. I want to show you something." She's wanted to invest in the Venus grant ever since she saw the application, and she finally has the money to.
Nobody ever found out the Malfoys had funded fifteen years of microgrants for Muggle-born witches developing new charms, but it made for lovely Christmas dinner conversation when she visited her in-laws.
