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Astoria reaches out and grabs her sister by the arm, plucking her out of the crowd.
“Daphne, what is he doing here?”
Daphne tucks herself in beside Astoria, and peers around. “Who?”
Astoria tuts and nods in the direction of the tall, blond young man who’s just walked through the door. Draco Malfoy is the only person in the room wearing head-to-toe black. Robes, with formal suit trousers that make him look like he’s just left work and hasn’t had time to change into something more comfortable, although Astoria knows he doesn’t really have a job. He looks around at the party like it’s something dangerous and odd, and he has no idea what to do with it.
Astoria folds her arms and slumps back against the wall, glaring at him.
“Oh,” Daphne says, smiling. “Him.”
Astoria elbows her. “Stop that. Why is he here? You can’t have invited him. You’re not that stupid.” She shoots her sister a significant look.
Daphne gives a quiet sigh. “Why can’t I have invited him?” She looks at Astoria. “He was in my year at school. He’s not that bad-”
“Not that bad?” Astoria asks, voice rising with hysterical incredulity. It cuts across the noise of the party, and several people nearby look round at her, curious to see what all the noise is about. She gives them a forced smile and lowers her voice, leaning closer to Daphne.
“Not that bad these days,” Daphne clarifies, holding a hand up to stop her. “I know what you’re going to-”
“He’s a Death Eater,” Astoria hisses, glancing over her shoulder at Draco, who is now moving through the crowd. It parts before him like a wave, and as it closes behind him ripples of heads turn to follow his progress.
“He used to be a Death Eater,” Daphne corrects. “He’s changed. It’s been years.”
“Two years isn’t that long,” Astoria says, looking round again to glare in Draco’s direction. “I don’t want him here.”
“You don’t have to want him here,” Daphne says, pushing off the wall. “It’s my birthday party. I invited him. And now I’m going to say hello. Do you want to come and be civil?”
Astoria folds her arms more tightly. “Not really. I suppose I’m not allowed to duel him, am I?”
Daphne grins. “You could. But you’d have to go outside. Mum would kill you if you started a fight in here. You know she just redecorated.”
Astoria rolls her eyes. “It’s too hot outside.”
“Then come and debate with him instead.” Daphne holds a hand out, and Astoria eyes her.
“You can’t debate with Death Eaters.”
“That’s never stopped you before,” Daphne says, holding her hand out more insistently. “Come on. I know you’re bored. Just… don’t scare him too much.”
Astoria groans, but takes her sister’s hand, and allows herself to be dragged through the crowd in Draco’s direction. Daphne bounds up to him, the sequins on her dress glittering in the light, a beaming smile on her face.
“Good evening, Malfoy. I thought you weren’t going to come.”
Draco turns to face her, champagne flute in one hand. “I didn’t think I would,” he says, in the sort of bored voice that implies he owns the universe. “But my parents were being so unbearable I needed to escape the house for a bit.” He raises his glass to Daphne. “Many happy returns to you.”
She gives a little bobbing curtsy and gestures in Astoria’s direction. “Thank you very much. Malfoy, have you met my little sister Astoria?”
Draco looks at Astoria. His eyes are grey, like sheets of ice, or shards of slate. Cold and sharp, and, in her opinion, so uninteresting they’re hardly worth looking at.
“Astoria,” he says. “That’s a nice name.” He holds a hand out to her, but she ignores it.
“It’s from the Greek myths,” she says, injecting as much frost into her tone as she can manage. Daphne struggles to restrain a smile.
Draco looks at Astoria with genuine curiosity. “Of course. That's traditional for your family, isn't it? I was looking at your family tree the other day and-”
“Is that something you do a lot?” Astoria asks, cutting him off. “Reading family trees? I bet you have the whole Sacred 28 memorised, don’t you. So you can make sure you never have to interact with anyone who isn’t perfectly pure-blooded.” She spits the last word at him, and he blinks, but that’s all he gives away.
“Actually,” he says coolly, “I found it in one of my father’s books while I was tidying his study.” He glances at Daphne. “You can’t move in there for cursed books and dark objects. I might have a few items for you in the next couple of days, if I can sneak them away. I swear he’s been counting them all. I can’t touch anything these days without him throwing a tantrum.” He gives a bitter little sigh.
Daphne gives him a sympathetic smile. “Well, we’d be grateful for anything you can get us. But,” she laughs, “it’s my birthday. I’m not supposed to be talking about work.”
“Of course not,” Draco says. “My sincerest apologies.” There’s a little sparkle of humour in his eyes, and Astoria pulls a face and looks away. She didn’t come here to watch her sister flirt with Draco Malfoy. “Are you having a good day?” Draco asks Daphne.
Daphne shrugs and her shoulders glitter in the enchanted light flooding the room. “It could have been worse. Twenty doesn’t feel much different to nineteen, to be honest. I’ve mostly been running round trying to organise things. There really wouldn’t have been a party without Astoria. She’s indispensable.” Daphne nudges Astoria on the arm, and Astoria looks round at her.
“That wasn’t what you told me earlier,” Astoria says. “When you were telling me off for putting too many lights everywhere.”
Daphne wraps an arm round her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. “I’ve since seen the error of my ways.”
“I think the lights are rather beautiful,” Draco says, glancing around at the room, at the hundreds of floating lights that make the space sparkle and shine. “You’ve done an excellent job.” He looks at Astoria and smiles.
Daphne’s expression twists into a barely restrained smirk, and she pats Astoria on the shoulder. “Yes she has. Oh! I’ve just spotted Vaisey on the other room. Astoria, you’ll entertain Draco for me, won’t you? Nice to have you here Draco. Talk to you later.” And then she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd in a glittering whirl.
“Daphne!” Astoria calls after her, but she doesn’t look back, and Astoria finds herself stranded, alone, with Draco Malfoy. She folds her arms and puts on her best icy smile. Draco doesn’t notice it. He’s fiddling with his champagne flute, long fingers tapping against the delicate crystal.
“So,” Astoria says. “What are you doing these days, Malfoy?” She says his name like it’s something dirty, which to her it is.
He looks up at her. “This and that,” he says. “A little alchemical research. Mostly I’ve been helping get the Manor back in some sort of inhabitable state.”
“Gosh,” Astoria says drily. “That must be such a hardship. I’m sorry Voldemort was such a destructive house guest.”
Draco blinks at her for a second, then looks down at his champagne. “What about you? You must have left Hogwarts by now.”
“I work at the Ministry,” Astoria says. “In the Muggle Liaison Office, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Do you really?” He asks. His tone is polite, but the faintest sneer crosses his face, like he can’t quite help himself.
Astoria pounces. She lifts her chin and looks at him. "And what's wrong with that?"
Draco shrugs. "Nothing at all. You're just so..."
"So?"
The sneer becomes almost a smirk. "I thought it was just idiots like Arthur Weasley who work with Muggles."
Astoria narrows her eyes. "Can you negotiate two complex and often opposing legal systems, Malfoy? Presumably not. I bet you wouldn't know a Muggle law if it bit you on the ass."
Draco looks at her, and his smirk doesn’t fade an inch, but he doesn’t say anything.
"Exactly," Astoria snaps. "Watch who you're calling an idiot." She steps in very close to him. "I know you're keeping the Ministry happy by supplying my sister with dark artefacts from that hellhole of a house you live in, but I've got my eye on you Malfoy. One day you're going to slip, and when you do I'll be ready, and you'll find out exactly how much you don't know about Muggle laws. Or magical ones." She gives him a long, cold look, then stalks away. As she retreats she can feel his eyes on her, but she ignores him. He's beneath her notice.
---
Astoria stomps through the library with a stack of books tucked under her arm. Loose strands of hair fall into her eyes, and she blows them impatiently out of the way. Her stomach rumbles as she rushes up the stairs out of the law department. This was supposed to be her lunchtime, but her boss doesn’t believe in breaks, apparently.
For some reason she’s never understood, the books covering Muggle law are kept separate to the magical legal tomes. They’re tucked away in the Muggle Studies section right at the back of the library, which more than doubles the amount of time and effort trips down here take.
She runs through the stacks, counting the shelves, twisting and turning down the familiar path. One of the regulars in the Charms section, a wizened, elderly man, tips his deep purple hat to her as she passes, and she smiles at him. Her robes slip from one of her shoulders as she does, revealing the blouse underneath, and she shrugs them back on and keeps running. Past Transfiguration and Potions and Magical Beasts, down a flight of stairs into Alchemy.
Some of the books are sliding from her grip, and she contorts herself to try and keep hold of them as she runs, but eventually one slips and falls onto the carpet.
“Salazar,” she mutters, hopping to a halt and turning back. “I don’t have time for you to be so-” She reaches for the book, but someone else gets there first.
“Here,” Draco Malfoy says, picking up the book and handing it to her.
Astoria stares at him for a second. “What are you doing here?”
He looks around. “Here? It’s a public library. I’m looking at books. What are you doing here?”
“Working. I don’t have time to talk to you, Malfoy.” She takes her book from him, and gathers the whole stack against her chest. As she struggles to her feet a couple more slip onto the floor. Draco picks them up.
“Would you like some help?” He asks. “I don’t know why you don’t just levitate them.”
Astoria tuts. “I’m about to walk down a Muggle street. I can’t ‘just levitate them’. Would you put those on top?” She nods to the teetering stack that comes to just below her chin.
“I could conjure you a bag,” he offers, setting the two books carefully onto the pile.
Astoria clamps them beneath her chin and sets off walking. “I don’t need your help.”
She expects to leave Draco behind as she heads for the Muggle Studies section. There’s no way Draco would be caught dead in there, and he’s probably only in the library for the Alchemy books. But to her surprise and annoyance, he stays by her side as she moves through the shelves, wand drawn, ready to catch her books if she drops them.
“Are you following me?” She snaps, shooting him a hard look.
“No,” he says. “I’m walking in this direction.”
“These are the Muggle books,” she reminds him.
Draco’s cheeks flush with a faint pink tinge, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I know which section I'm in. I’m not an idiot.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in this sort of thing, Malfoy.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Draco says. He gives Astoria a long look, seems to consider saying something, then decides against it. Instead, he waves his wand and summons a sturdy canvas bag, which he drapes over the top of Astoria’s books. “That’s in case you decide to stop being stubborn,” he says, and then he turns and walks away among the shelves.
Astoria watches him go for a moment, then she shakes her head and marches off to get the rest of her books. She tries her hardest to carry them all without the bag, but she just can’t hold them all, and they’re making her wrists and shoulders ache even worse than they usually do. Using Draco’s bag would be tantamount to admitting defeat, but she can’t deny it would be sensible. Of course she could summon her own bag and use that, but that would be petty to the point of stupidity. Plus, as good as she is at Conjuration, she isn’t entirely sure she could make something quite so sturdy. Draco has done a good job…
With a growl she starts shoving her books into the bag. At least he won’t see her using it. He’s probably long gone by now. Still, she checks the coast is clear before sneaking out towards the front desk. There’s no one around that she can see.
She keeps her head down as she moves back through the library. Occasionally people in here recognise her and want to chat, but she doesn’t have time for that today. There’s a hearing in a couple of hours and they need these books.
When she reaches the front desk there’s already someone there. Draco is leaning against the counter and chatting to the librarian while she stamps out his books.
“If there are any more you could recommend,” he says, “I’d certainly be interested. That other book was fascinating.”
“Of course, dear,” the librarian replies, giving him a warm smile. “There are plenty more where these came from. Research has exploded since the war.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and pushes his books across the counter to him.
“I’m sure it has,” he says, taking his books and looking down at them. “Have a good afternoon.”
“You too, Mr Malfoy.”
Draco turns from the counter, still studying his books, and he walks right into Astoria.
“Ouch,” she says, lifting her foot off the ground and rubbing it where he’s just stood on it.
“Astoria,” he says, eyes widening as he recognises her. “I’m sorry. Are you-”
“Fine. Completely fine.” She brushes him off, but as she’s about to move past him she recognises one of the books he’s carrying. “Is that-?” she asks, pointing at it.
Draco puts it behind his back. “It’s an Alchemy book,” he lies, without even a flicker of hesitation.
Astoria grins. “You’ve got a Muggle law book. I thought they were for idiots.”
Draco’s expression twists and tightens, and he seems to struggle with himself for a moment. Finally he draws himself up to his full height, which is quite impressive, especially accentuated by the robes, and the long legs, clad today in tight grey trousers. “You’re using my bag,” he says. “I thought you didn’t want my help?”
Astoria’s cheeks heat, and she narrows her eyes at him. “It seemed like a sensible option.”
Draco hugs his books to his chest. “A knowledge of Muggle law seemed like a sensible option too.”
For a moment they look at each other, and Astoria tries to work out what’s going on behind his unreadable, perfectly schooled expression. Then she shakes her head and brushes past him. Draco glances at her as she goes.
“Have a nice afternoon, Astoria.”
She pauses in getting the books out of the bag for the librarian to stamp, and looks up at him. “Yes,” she says, because she doesn’t really know what else to say.
---
Astoria ducks as a flock of interdepartmental memos shoot over her head like arrows. She follows them out of the lift onto Level Two, shuffling through the papers in her hand and not really looking where she's going. This building is a maze, but she's learned it so well in the last few months, that her feet just take her where she needs to go. Anyway, the corridors aren't busy at the moment. Most people have gone home by this time on a Friday evening.
She's so preoccupied with her papers that she doesn't realise she has company until Daphne taps her on the arm. "Astoria!"
She looks up at her sister's sing-song voice. "Daphne. I thought you would have left already."
Daphne smiles and winds her scarf round her neck. "I'm on my way out now. Are you going to make it for dinner? I should warn Mum if you're going to be late."
Astoria looks back down at her papers. "I might be a bit... Tell her half an hour."
Daphne nods. "An hour it is then."
"Am I that bad?" Astoria glances up, running a hand through her hair.
"Yes," Daphne grins, "you are. What is it this time? Another one of those stupid Muggle Suppressionist gangs?"
Astoria shakes her head. "Do you remember how we had that campaign to try and find Selwyn? A Muggle Police Officer found him and tried to arrest him. She... she didn't come out of it very well."
Daphne blanches and puts a hand on Astoria's shoulder. "I'll tell Mum you'll be late. I'll make sure we save something for you."
Astoria smiles weakly. "Thanks. I should get back..."
"Please actually finish your work this time," Daphne calls, walking backwards down the corridor so she can keep looking at her sister. "I know you. You'll spend all weekend thinking about it and you'll be a total misery."
Astoria nods. "I will. See you in a bit."
Behind them the lift pings, ready to move again. Daphne sprints to it and puts her foot in to stop the doors closing. "You're probably not interested," she says, turning back once more. "But Draco Malfoy is round the corner."
Astoria's head snaps up. "What?"
"I know," Daphne says, grinning. "See you Astoria." And she disappears into the lift, the golden doors sliding shut on her.
Astoria watches her go, then she shakes her head and looks back at her papers. Why does it matter if Draco is here or not? The Malfoys are always snooping around at the Ministry. It's hardly big news.
She wanders on down the corridor, but pokes her head out before rounding the next corner. As much as it doesn't matter whether Malfoy is here or not, she's not keen to run into him. She has far too much work to do for that.
He's there in the corridor, because of course he is. All slicked-back blond hair, high-collared black robes, and sharp, handsome features. Wait, handsome?
Astoria pulls back and flattens herself against the wall. Draco Malfoy is not handsome. Loathsome more like. He's pale and angular and haughty, and- She pokes her head back round the corner. Okay, maybe he is a little bit handsome. In a repulsive sort of way.
At the moment he's standing there talking to a very harassed looking Harry Potter. Harry's glasses are askew, and his hair has the stressed, wild look it gets when he's been in meetings all day. It seems as though Draco has cornered him. He keeps glancing at his watch, and he's slowly inching his way along the wall, making an apparent bid for freedom, while Draco keeps up an insistent monologue.
Astoria decides to rescue Harry. She needs a word with him anyway, and no one deserves to be trapped in a conversation with Draco Malfoy, especially not the saviour of the Wizarding World. She pats her hair to neaten it up, smooths a crease out of her skirt, then draws herself up straight and marches round the corner.
"Harry," she says, trying to sound like she's surprised and relieved to see him. "I was hoping to run into you."
Both Harry and Draco turn to look at her. Harry adjusts his glasses. Draco's expression melts from a frown into a warm smile, which thaws the ice in his eyes.
"Good evening, Astoria," he says.
"Hello," Astoria replies, as coolly as she can when he's smiling at her like that. Now that she's noticed it, he really is quite handsome. She has to swallow hard to find her voice again, and does her best to avoid looking at Draco again. "Harry, do you have a second to talk about the Selwyn case?"
Harry sighs and checks his watch. "Yes, I think so. But it'll have to be quick. Ginny threatened me with the Bat Bogey Hex if I'm late for dinner again."
Astoria smiles. "We can walk and talk." She gestures down the corridor in the direction of their offices.
Harry nods and glances back at Draco. "Send me all that stuff in an Owl and I'll see what I can do, okay?"
Draco inclines his head. "Anything you like, Potter." He looks at Astoria. "I hope I'll see you soon."
Astoria resists the urge to reply 'I wouldn't count on it', and instead shrugs. "Perhaps."
His smile widens an inch, and his eyes sparkle like diamonds as he turns away. Astoria shakes her head and tries to remember what she wanted to talk to Harry about. Draco's face has wiped all sensible thought from her brain.
They're halfway down the hall to the Auror cubicles when Harry prompts her. "Selwyn," he says. "You wanted to talk to him."
"Yes! Of course." She pulls out one of the papers from her stack. "I got your memo with the testimony; it's perfect, thank you. I just wanted to ask though, do you happen to have a transcript of the message that went out on the Muggle news? I leant mine to Boot and he hasn't given it back yet."
Harry rubs his forehead and nods distractedly. "Yeah, yeah I might. I'll have a look."
"Great. And did you know about the discrepancy with-"
"The Obliviator's report," Harry groans. "It's all I've heard about all day. Don't worry. We're working on it."
"Of course," Astoria says. She checks the page again and shakes her head. "I think that's it." She hugs the papers to her chest and looks at Harry. When she speaks she tries to keep her voice light and casual. "What, um... what did Malfoy want?"
"Malfoy? Oh," Harry runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. "There's a case he's sort of helping with. And generally he has a lot of opinions. Too many opinions. I wish he'd just send Owls, but..." he waves a hand back in the direction of where they'd last seen Draco. "I think he likes to be seen."
"The Malfoys have always skulked around here," Astoria says. "I'm sorry he was bothering you."
"I don't mind," Harry says. "At least he's occasionally useful." They arrive at his desk, which is a chaotic mess of parchment and files. He starts sifting through the detritus, and eventually comes up with a slightly coffee-stained file. He pulls out a couple of pages, scans them, and finally hands one to Astoria. "Is this what you're after?"
She looks down at it and nods. "That's perfect." She draws her wand and replicates the transcript. "I knew Malfoy was helping the artefacts team, but I didn't know he was on board with the Aurors too."
Harry makes a fruitless attempt to shuffle the files on his desk into some sort of order, but he quickly gives up. "He knows people. Connections get you everywhere in a case, and he seems willing to help, so..." He gives a one-shouldered shrug and starts pulling his travelling cloak on. "Listen, I've got to run. If you need anything else send me..." he trails off as he looks at the disaster that is his in-tray. "Don't send me a memo. Run down and see me or something. You'll figure it out."
Astoria smiles and lays the file back on top of Harry's mountains of paperwork. "I will. Have a good weekend, Harry."
She takes the transcript back to her desk, where she flops down with a heavy sigh and kicks her shoes off, rubbing her feet. She flips open her case file and starts reading her notes, while she massages her toes. As an afterthought she waves her wand at one of the Muggle Biros in her pen pot, which poises itself on a bit of blank parchment, ready to take notes.
She gets through a couple of paragraphs before her thoughts start to stray. She trails off mid-sentence in her dictation, and her enchanted Biro grinds to a messy halt.
It makes sense for Malfoy to be hanging around the Ministry, chatting up whoever's in power. That's what the Malfoys have done for centuries. But the idea of him helping out for any good reason, because he's changed, is laughable. This, making friends with the right people and being seen in the right places, is just how he works.
But then again... Everyone at Hogwarts knew about him and Harry, how they hated each other. It's amazing to see them talking, let alone working together. And he was reading that Muggle law book when she saw him a couple of months ago. It didn't seem like the first one he'd read either. And that wasn't for show, he tried to hide it, tried to lie about it.
Is Draco Malfoy changing? Is that even possible? Can Death Eaters change? Maybe this is just another Malfoy game, a way of slithering out of trouble yet again, because Death Eaters don't change, they don't feel remorse or try to get better, do they?
The image of Draco's smiling face, eyes sparkling as he'd looked at her, swims unbidden to the front of her mind and she buries her face in her hands with a growl. She runs her fingers through her hair and tries not to think about him, but it's impossible. He's a curiosity, an attractive curiosity, and it's almost as though he's following her, popping up all over the place, sticking in her head and making her think. She doesn't want to think, not about him, but apparently her stupid brain has other ideas.
Opening her eyes, she stares blankly down at her file, and shakes her head. She's not getting anymore work done tonight, not now, not thanks to him. These papers will have to wait until Monday, when hopefully all thoughts of Draco Malfoy will be driven deep into the dustbin of her mind where they belong, by a weekend of Daphne's sensible advice and their mother's incessant gossip.
With one last forlorn glance at all the work she isn't going to do, she tucks the papers back into their file, and places it on top of her neat 'to do' pile. She slides her feet back into her shoes, winds her scarf round her neck, and pulls her coat on, before rushing away. As she leaves she vows to spend the entire evening moaning to Daphne about how Draco Malfoy is ruining her life, and society in general.
---
Astoria sits cross-legged on the office floor, shoes abandoned by the door, surrounded by a mess of parchment. The department has been bombarded with Owls this morning, as the Ministry has just announced its new pro-Muggle legislation. The piles of parchment scattered across the office floor are the hundreds of responses that have already poured in from all around the country, and Astoria is the one who's ended up having to sort through them all.
Most of the letters are boring and generic, or have been sent by regular correspondents, who like to have their say on everything the Ministry does, from mundane regulations on cauldron thickness, all the way up to dramatic Auror raids on the few Death Eaters still at large. A couple are more interesting.
There's a lengthy and emotional letter from one of the St Oswald's residents, detailing the story of her mother, a Muggleborn witch who'd fought in the wars against both Grindelwald and Voldemort. Another comes from a Hogwarts fourth year, a Slytherin, who is pleased to hear that Muggle Studies will be made a compulsory subject for all students. Now and then, the odd letter just spews abuse, and Astoria narrowly avoids a curse contained in one envelope, but most are at least interesting and well reasoned, even when she disagrees with them.
She tosses a thick sheaf of parchment onto the pro pile, containing a letter and signatures from one of the most vocal Muggle support groups. It's not at all surprising to find them among the wave of correspondents. They've been consulted about the legislation multiple times already, and are fully in favour of it.
She smiles fondly at the familiar set of names as she picks the next letter off the pile. This one is a lot thinner, and when she flips it over to break the seal, she realises she recognises the crest. It's the Malfoy coat of arms, accompanied by a small scattering of stars that Astoria recognises as Draco's constellation.
She stares down at it for a moment, taking in the delicate pattern stamped onto the green wax. Her fingers shakes ever so slightly, and she swallows hard. She turns the envelope over and over in her hands, but she can't bring herself to open it. There could be anything inside. She has no idea what to expect of Draco anymore. Presumably this is the sort of thing he would oppose?
His handwriting on the front of the envelope is very neat. Small and precise, apart from the expansive flourishes on his descenders, which seem to take up all the space left by their less flamboyant neighbours. She reads the address three times before, heart pounding, she decides she should just get on with reading the letter. She isn't meant to care this much. It's her job to read the letters, sort them, and hand them over, not to sit here and panic about what one of them might contain.
"Pull yourself together," she mutters to herself, and she slits open the seal.
Inside the envelope is a single sheet of parchment, with a short letter written on it in the same neat handwriting.
To whom it may concern,
I am writing to express my support for the newly proposed Muggle Protection and Education Act.
Although I cannot offer my wholehearted agreement with every aspect of the legislation, I believe this to be a largely well-written, well considered, and necessary new law. I hope it will benefit and strengthen both Wizarding and Muggle society, and I would urge Wizengamot members to vote in favour of accepting it.
Yours most sincerely,
DM
Astoria reads the letter through several times. With each reading she relaxes a little more, her heart rate slows, and she feels as though she can start to breathe again.
Draco supports the legislation. Not completely, but he does support it. Enough to have bothered to write a letter and send it in. It's a wonderful revelation. It shows that he might not be too awful after all, that he might deserve a chance...
She reads the letter one final time, taking in more of the handwriting. She especially enjoys the way he writes the D of his initials; a broad, bold, sweeping curve, which leads to the spiky M.
He hasn't written out his full name, she realises. If you didn't recognise the seal or the handwriting, there'd be no way of knowing that this letter came from Draco Malfoy. Perhaps that was deliberate, although Astoria doesn't really understand why. Isn't it the Malfoy way to show off about this sort of thing? Political opinions and beliefs? Especially when they favour the current government?
She frowns down at the signature, trying to figure it out, but she can't. She doesn't understand Draco. She'd thought she did, she'd thought he was simple: a selfish, prejudiced man whose blood status matters more to him than anything else. But apparently not. At least not entirely. Draco Malfoy is an enigma. And Astoria has always quite enjoyed solving puzzles.
She sets the letter aside, not on any of the piles for the moment, just to one side where she can see it out of the corner of her eye. Then she gets on with reading through the rest of the letters. Draco's is the last one she files away, and even once she's handed over all the correspondence and moved onto other jobs, that letter doesn't leave her thoughts for the rest of the day.
---
Later that evening, Astoria swirls out of the darkness with a flourish of her cloak, and twists her ankle as her heel catches in the crack between two paving slabs. She swears and hops on one foot for a moment, glaring down at the path. The heel of her new shoes isn't broken, thank goodness, but she hits it with a Reparo just to make sure, then hobbles off up the path to her sister's house.
She knocks loudly and stands back to wait. It only takes a second before the door swings open of its own accord and she steps inside, kicking her shoes off before she ventures down the hall.
The house is quiet. When she calls Daphne's name it echoes along the corridor and up the stairs. All the lights are on, but there's no sign of Daphne anywhere. Normally that just means she's hidden away in the study at the back, working late, or on a Fire Call with someone.
Astoria wanders deeper into the house. There's a stack of post on a sideboard that she neatens up, and a copy of Witch Weekly that she briefly flicks through before pulling a face and dropping it onto the coffee table. Her sister has horrible taste in magazines.
She goes into the kitchen, and she's just drawn her wand to start making tea when the door to Daphne's office opens and two people walk out. Daphne, accompanied by none other than Draco Malfoy. The mug Astoria had been levitating out of the cupboard smashes as she forgets what she's doing and stares at him, the letter flying to the front of her mind once more.
With a sweep of his wand, Draco repairs the mug, picks it up, and strides across the kitchen to hand it to her. "I believe you dropped this."
Astoria feels as though her face is on fire. She takes the mug, fingers brushing Draco's for a moment, which only makes her heart beat faster. "Y-yes," she stutters. "Yes. Thank you." She turns away from him and puts the mug safely back on the side where it can't be broken again. She takes a moment to lean against the side and compose herself before turning back and pushing a smile onto her face.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here, Draco. Are you bothering my sister?"
"Not bothering, I hope." Draco glances at Daphne. "I had some items to deliver, and I happened to be passing by."
Daphne smiles. "Never bothering, Draco. Would you two excuse me just a second? I need to grab something from upstairs." She flashes Astoria a grin as she passes, and Astoria tries a silent appeal for help, which Daphne ignores. She disappears out into the hall, leaving Astoria and Draco alone together.
Astoria looks down at her feet and fiddles with the buttons on the cuffs of her jacket. Draco shuffles his feet and tucks a strand of hair off his face. He seems to be growing it out, and it frames his face in soft, curling little wisps.
"I managed to procure a few of my father's more dangerous but less valuable items," Draco explains after a moment of awkward silence. "I'd rather turn them in than have our house raided again. I'm not sure he's in a healthy enough state for... you know. He's easily upset." He trails off and bows his head, looking down at his fingers as they run along the edge of the kitchen table.
Astoria takes a breath and tries to work out what she wants to say to him. "You sent a letter to the Ministry," she blurts out after a moment. "You wrote a letter about the new Muggle Protection and Education Act. You didn't sign it, but I read it, and I recognise your seal, and- and you supported it..." she runs out of steam and starts twisting her fingers together.
Draco opens his mouth, then closes it again. He frowns, and seems to struggle with himself for several long seconds. "The Malfoys have always been influential in politics," he says. "I don't know why you're surprised that I'm interested in current affairs."
"But you weren't..." Astoria looks up at him. "You weren't opposing the legislation."
"No," Draco says bluntly, putting his hands in his pockets. "No. I wasn't. But if it makes you feel better, my father and mother both are."
"You didn't sign the letter," Astoria says. "Why didn't you sign it?"
"I didn't realise I was required to sign every letter I write," Draco says levelly, and Astoria recognises a bite of frost in his tone.
"You don't," she says hurriedly. "Of course not. I just thought..." She shakes her head. "I didn't understand... I'm sorry." She looks him right in the face. "I'm glad you support it. It proves... I don't know. I'm just glad."
A satisfied smirk stretches across Draco's face. "Astoria Greengrass approves of something I've done. This is a momentous occasion. I'll have to remember this forever."
"Yes," Astoria replies, unable to keep herself from smiling. "You will, because it isn't going to happen again any time soon."
Draco laughs. "That sounds like a challenge."
Astoria lifts her chin. "Perhaps it is."
Draco grins. "Challenge accepted, then." He gestures to the door. "I should probably go and get started right away. It seems I have a lot of hard work to do." He gives Astoria a small, slightly ridiculous bow, and walks toward the door.
As he goes, Astoria is seized by a moment of madness. She steps forward and calls after him. "Draco?"
He turns back to look at her. "Yes?"
She swallows. "It's my birthday in a couple of weeks. I'm having a party. Would you like to come?"
Draco blinks at her, then a smile spreads across his face and his eyes go soft like silver silk. "That would be nice, thank you. Owl me the details and I'm sure I can find room for it in my social calendar."
"Your social calendar," Astoria snorts.
"I'm very much in demand," Draco says seriously.
"I'm sure," Astoria grins.
"I am!" Draco protests, and when Astoria continues to grin at him, he shakes his head and turns away. "Have a nice evening, Astoria." She can hear the smile in his voice as he says it, and when she follows him to the door and watches him retreat down the hall, she's certain she doesn't imagine the new spring in his step, as though he's walking on air.
Astoria leans in the doorway and grins until the front door snaps shut. At that precise moment Daphne materialises on the stairs.
"Oh," she says, a vision of innocence. "Has he gone?"
Astoria turns on her sister. "You abandoned me with him deliberately! You didn't have to fetch anything, did you?"
Daphne skips down the stairs, smirking. "Are you not grateful?"
Astoria glares mutinously at her for a moment, then looks down at her hands. "I invited him to my party," she mutters.
Daphne gives a shriek of delight and hugs her. "Did you ask him as your date?"
"No!" Astoria protests, pushing her sister away. "I don't like him like that."
"Mmhmm?" Daphne says, a smug grin on her face.
"I don't!" Astoria says. Then, when Daphne doesn't stop grinning she elbows her in the ribs. "I don't... but I might need you to help me pick something to wear..."
"Okay!" Daphne chirps, and hugs her again.
---
The party is too noisy. Astoria has been bounced from conversation to conversation all evening. Her feet are aching, her head is aching, her ears are aching, and she feels faint from the heat. The one person she's been excited and anxious to see all week is here, she's seen him, but she hasn't had chance to talk to him all night, and now she's going to have to leave before she passes out.
She looks around one last time for Draco, but doesn't spot him among the crowds, so she grabs a glass of water from a passing waiter and hurries out of the door into the cool hallway.
She sinks onto the stairs, sets the glass down beside her, and buries her face in her hands. Her circulation has always been terrible, so her hands are cold even though the rest of her is burning hot. They cool her down, to the point where she starts shivering. She hugs herself and curls up, wishing she'd worn a warmer dress. This one is beautiful, soft, and floaty, and enchanted to mimic the colour of the night sky - at the moment purple and pink at the top, with vivid red near the bottom, courtesy of the setting sun - but it isn't warm, and now she's sitting still, Astoria has never felt colder.
She folds herself up as small as she can and tucks her fingers under her arms as she leans against the bannister. She could try and get a cardigan or a coat or something, but her feet ache from the stupid shoes she's wearing, shoes she'll never get off because they're so intricately strapped to her feet, and she isn't sure she could climb the stairs anyway. Her legs feel weak, and she's not just shaking from the cold. She knows the difference.
It's been a long time since she was last really ill, in her third year at Hogwarts. She was alright one day, not well, but normal for her, but then she slowly deteriorated over a few days. It had been awful, she can still remember the pain and exhaustion, and she's always been terrified of it happening again. Maybe this is it... She's never been naive enough to believe it wouldn't happen again at some point.
She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against the bannister. This would be a great time for Daphne to come and rescue her. Her sister normally has a sixth sense for this sort of thing. It's probably only a matter of time before she-
The door opens. Astoria looks up in hope, but she's disappointed to see that it isn't her sister. It's actually the very last person she wants to see when she's in a state like this. Draco Malfoy, looking as handsome and well put together as always. He's wearing an icy blue jacket today, over a pristine white shirt. His neatly slicked hair falls almost to his shoulders, and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the party. Astoria turns away from him and tries to make herself invisible. Unfortunately it doesn't work.
"Astoria," he says, and his voice is flooded with concern. "I saw you leave. Are you alright?"
She nods. "Fine," she lies. "I'm fine. I just wanted some fresh air. You should go back inside."
"But you're out here. If I wait for you inside you'll be accosted by at least a hundred people, and I'll never get a look in. We Malfoys believe in taking opportunities when they're presented to us." He strides across the room, shoes clicking on the stone floor, and sits on the step beside her. "You're shivering," he says softly. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"It was too hot in there," she murmurs. "But now I'm out here I'm cold..."
Without hesitation, Draco shrugs off his jacket and tries to wrap it round her shoulders. She does her best to push it away.
"No, don't. I don't want you to get cold too."
"I won't," Draco says confidently. "Besides, I'm wearing far more clothes than you are, and warmer ones. You need this far more than I do. Please. If I get cold I promise to steal it back. Does that make you happy?"
Astoria thinks for a moment, then she nods and lets him slide the jacket round her shoulders. She doesn't regret it. His warmth folds around her and she immediately relaxes a bit. She hugs the jacket closed. Even though he's thin, she's always been tiny thanks to her illness, so she's swamped in all the blue fabric.
Draco adjusts the collar of the jacket, and doesn't remove his hand from her shoulder. "This is an excellent party, thank you for inviting me. I must say, your taste in music is exquisite."
Astoria smiles. "I didn't choose the music. Daphne insisted on playing DJ for the night."
Draco frowns. "D... J?"
Astoria's smile broadens and she glances up at him. "Muggles have them at parties, to look after the music."
Draco nods. "Of course. Well, perhaps I should start borrowing Muggle dictionaries from the library next. Clearly I have a lot to learn."
"I'm sure I have one you could borrow," she offers, shuffling closer to him on the step.
"That would certainly be enlightening," he says. His hand slips sideways on her shoulder, until his arm is curled round her. She throws caution to the winds and leans against him. As she does, his hand brushes the bare skin on her shoulder and he screws his face up.
"Merlin, you're freezing. How can a person be so cold?" He gathers her in closer and starts rubbing her shoulder to try and warm her up.
"I have poor circulation," she informs him.
"If you get any colder you're going to turn into an ice block. Here." He draws his wand and waves it over her.
Warmth trickles slowly through every fibre of her being. It's like being plunged into the most perfect bath. It creeps and curls from her head, down her spine, spreading into her fingers, sinking into her bones, making her heart sing. Her toes, which had been starting to go numb, revive, and already she feels considerably less ill. She rubs her hands together and smiles at Draco.
"You didn't have to do that, but thank you."
"Do you feel better?" He asks.
"A lot."
"Then of course I had to do it," he says, returning the smile.
Astoria puts her feet flat on the floor and flexes her toes. "I think... I might be able to go back inside in a minute. At least my head doesn't hurt anymore." She looks around for her glass of water and picks it up, draining it in one. "My feet do though." She sighs and relaxes against Draco's side.
"How can you move in those shoes?" He asks, looking down at them. "They're just straps and stilettos. They can't be comfortable."
"They're not," Astoria says, stretching her feet out in front of her. "But they look nice. They make me look nice."
Draco nods and looks at her. "I can agree with that."
She knows she's blushing, but she can't help it. She ducks her head and brushes a stray bit of hair out of her eyes, hoping he can't see how red she's gone. "Well..." She pushes herself unsteadily to her feet. "People are probably missing me inside." She steps off the stairs and discovers she still feels a bit faint. The world spins, and she reaches for something to hold onto, except there isn't anything. But then Draco stands up beside her and grips her arm, holding her steady.
"Are you sure you don't want to sit for a bit longer?"
She shakes her head. "No. But I might need to use you as a leaning post for a bit."
"I'm yours for as long as you want me," Draco says.
He ends up staying by her side, holding her arm, for the rest of the night.
---
Two days after her birthday, Astoria is admitted to St Mungo's. She's been told for years that the older she gets the worse the curse will affect her, but she never wanted to believe it. Now, though, she has no choice. She'd thought her illness in third year had been bad, but this is far worse.
She's so exhausted she sleeps almost constantly for a week. When she tries to move her whole body screams in agony. She bruises easily, and ends up looking a battered mess after just a short walk around her room. The one time she has the energy to try and read, she gets a paper cut that bleeds for hours.
Mostly she just feels sick, and shaky, and a small part of her thinks that if this is going to get worse with time, maybe it would be best to just give up now. She's not even sure what could be worse than this, but she isn't that keen to find out.
By the time she's been in hospital for two weeks she's starting to feel a bit better, and is also starting to get bored. Constant sleep sounds wonderful, but it gets a bit repetitive after a while. And there's no one to talk to most of the time. Her mum and Daphne drop in and see her, Daphne is there every day for at least an hour or two, but they both have other things to do. Lives and jobs. Astoria has never wanted anyone else to stop living on her account, so she spends every weekday alone, at once wishing she had more to do and feeling too tired to do anything at all.
On Tuesday morning, two weeks after the party, Astoria is not asleep. She's curled up in bed, buried under a mountain of blankets, and the room is dark. She's supposed to be sleeping, but she's aching all over and finding it hard to drift off. Her mind is wide awake too, which doesn't help. It's buzzing with boredom, urging her to occupy it with some form of entertainment, be it a book or a person or really anything at all.
She's still struggling to sleep when there's a quiet knock on the door. Curious, she lifts her head just high enough to see over the top of all the blankets, and peers through the gloom. She's not expecting any visitors, Daphne's at work, and her Healer only left twenty minutes ago.
"Come in," she says, rubbing her eyes. For a moment she thinks whoever is outside can't have heard her. Her voice is weak and hoarse at the moment, and she can't project. She certainly can't get out of bed to let anyone in. Maybe they'll just stay standing out there until they get bored and leave.
But then the door opens, and standing silhouetted against the light from the corridor is Draco. He hesitates on the threshold, looking torn between coming in or running away. "Is this a bad time? I didn't mean to wake you..."
Astoria shakes her head and struggles to claw herself upright, so she's propped against her pillows. Her joints and head protest, and it takes several seconds, but finally she's sitting up, and she hopes she looks at least a little bit dignified. "No," she says, picking up her wand and directing it at the bedside lamp, which flickers into life. "Please come in."
Draco steps inside, closing the door behind him, and hovers around by the foot of the bed. He looks like he doesn't really know what to do with himself, uncomfortable and uncertain. He's still wearing his coat and gloves. "I heard you were..." he trails off, gesturing to the bed. "Are you recovering?"
"No," Astoria says, a sharp bitterness in her voice. She runs her fingers through her hair and shakes her head. "Sorry. I-I am getting better. But I'm not going to... you know, get better." She emphasises the last two words and separates them, hoping he'll understand without her having to spell it out. "Not in the end..."
He nods and looks down at his hands, but doesn't say anything. Silence stretches between them, long and melancholy. In the half-light Draco's eyes sparkle like rain on a grey day.
Astoria takes a breath. She hates silences like this, the ones she always has to deal with once people realise what her illness means. "I, um. Did my sister tell you I was here?"
Draco shakes his head and runs his fingers along the metal frame of the bed, right by Astoria's feet. "No. I was at the Ministry and I noticed you weren't at your desk. One of your colleagues told me you were sick."
Despite the exhaustion and the pain, Astoria manages a weak smile. "Did you enquire about my health, Draco? That was sweet of you."
His cheeks colour pink. "I did nothing of the sort. I was merely concerned that you might have been... kidnapped by a mad Muggle or something."
"A mad Muggle," Astoria repeats, shaking her head. "Never change, Draco."
"I don't intend to," he says. He's silent for a moment, then glances at her. "Once I knew you were ill I did ask your sister if I could visit. I didn't want to intrude. I know you don't like me much."
Astoria frowns. "When have I ever said I didn't like you?"
Draco shrugs. "It was implied."
She looks down at her hands and pulls the covers further up in her lap, bunching the material between her fingers. "Well, I don't. Not like you. I think you're decent. You're certainly not boring."
His expression twists into something unreadable. "I think there might be a compliment in there somewhere?"
Astoria sighs. "I was trying to be nice." She brushes her hair out of her eyes with slightly shaky fingers. "I think I'm starting to... you're the only person who's come to visit me. Apart from Daphne and Mum. And at the party, you..." She smooths a crease out of her blanket. "I think I could consider you a friend at this point."
Draco raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Could you? We've never had a conversation that lasted more than two minutes. Apart from at your birthday party, but I don't think that counts. I was more a glorified leaning post than a conversation partner."
Astoria looks up at him and smiles. "Well, now's your chance." She beckons him toward her. "Take your coat off, pretend you're staying. You could even sit down if you wanted to be really daring."
Draco hesitates. "Are you sure you're not too tired? I don't want to-"
"If I get tired I'll just fall asleep while you're talking at me. It'll be obvious when I need you to leave."
Draco smiles. "Alright then." He shrugs out of his coat and hangs it up by the door, then he sits on the chair beside her and leans back, folding one leg over the other. "This room is rather nice. I always imagined hospital rooms would be a bit dingy an uncomfortable."
Astoria looks around. "I think they give me a nicer one because they know I'm going to be here for a while." She points her wand across the room at a pile of sweets lying abandoned on a table. "Would you like a Jelly Slug?' She asks, glancing at Draco. "Or a bean? I have more sweets here than I could ever eat in my life. I think word's got around that I like them..." She summons the packet of Jelly Slugs from the side and holds it out to Draco. "I'd offer them to my clients at work, but can you imagine a Muggle finding a vomit flavoured Bertie Bott's Bean? It would amount to torture. I'd have to arrest myself."
Draco smiles and takes a Slug. "Imagine if a Chocolate Frog got loose in the Muggle world. You could cause a diplomatic incident."
Astoria sighs dramatically and bites the head off her Jelly Slug. "I'd never be allowed to work again. And I do quite like my job."
"I've always been curious about that," Draco says. "You're a Greengrass. You're a Pureblood. But you work with Muggles. It always felt like a-" He looks at her, eyes bright with genuine curiosity rather than contempt. "I don't know. I've never understood."
"If the war didn't make you understand," Astoria says, tone harsh, "then I can't help you."
Draco sighs. "I didn't mean... I know why it's important. But you could do anything. You could be anything. Why this? Why them?"
Astoria shrugs and looks down at her hands. "Life is short. Why not do something worthwhile with it? No one else is going to defend them. The fact that I'm a Pureblood, whatever the hell that means, just makes it more important."
Draco surveys her, leaning back in his seat. "You're a far better person than me."
"Everyone's a better person than you, Draco." She looks at him. "But don't worry. The only way you can go from here is up."
Draco seems to consider that for a moment before he smiles. "How inspirational," he says drily. "You should have considered a career in motivational speaking."
Astoria grins and eats another Jelly Slug. While she chews, Draco looks at the books on her bedside table. He flips through one, a Muggle novel, and sets it aside with a contemptuous expression. The next he opens up and his eyes widen. He plucks something out of it, a thin silver bookmark that he holds up, marking the page with his finger instead.
"This was your birthday present. I bought you this. And you're using it."
"Oh," Astoria smiles. "Yes. Normally I use scraps of parchment, but they always fall out. This is useful. It sort of sticks to the pages."
"If you want to read at night it'll light up too," Draco informs her. "So you don't have to mess around with your wand. I used to have one for reading under the covers."
"Did you?" She asks. "I never thought of you as that much of a nerd." She grins at him as she says it, teasing.
"I assure you," Draco says, straight-faced, "I was an enormous nerd. It was the only way of trying to keep up with Hermione Granger. It didn't work of course, but Father would never have forgiven me if I hadn't at least tried."
"I've hear you're an Alchemy nerd these days. When you make your Elixir of Life you should let me have some." She grins at him and curls up against her pillows. "But seriously. Tell me about Alchemy. I don't know much about it."
"I'd hate to bore you," he says.
"My Healer will be grateful if you get me to fall asleep," she says. "You might even be allowed back if you do that. Go on." She settles down in bed, facing him, and listens as he begins to talk. Occasionally she interrupts his monologue with questions, but mostly she just lies there and listens. His voice is smooth and comforting, and the animation in it, the way he comes to life while he's talking about his studies... it's comforting, and beautiful.
She closes her eyes while she listens, and as she falls irresistibly into sleep, her heart begins to fall too, slowly, beat by steady beat, in love with Draco Malfoy.
---
When Astoria gets back to work a few weeks later, the first thing she finds on her desk is a package and a note. She sits down, kicks her shoes off because they're already making her legs feel like jelly, and tears open the parcel. Several packs of mundane Muggle chocolate buttons spill out onto her desk, and she frowns down at them for a moment before remembering the note.
She breaks the seal without looking at it, and slides out the single small square of parchment. There are three words written there, and two familiar, precise letters.
For the Muggles,
DM
Astoria gives a snort of laughter and buries her face in her hands. Her grin blossoms across her face, and joy floods through her. Any nerves she'd had about being back at work melt away in an instant.
She picks up her quill and a scrap of parchment, and scribbles a reply. Thankfully there's no one else in the office yet to judge her as she skids barefoot across the tiled floor and runs off to the Owl Mail room downstairs.
That afternoon, a response comes sauntering into her office in the form of Draco himself. Today he's wearing a green shirt and perfectly tailored grey trousers. When Astoria spots him, her first instinct is to hide in her cubicle. He looks too good to exist, and she's supposed to be working. Work is impossible with Draco in the vicinity.
Unfortunately, he knows which desk is hers, and he comes over and leans in the entry-way. The way he's draping himself against it tells her he knows exactly how good he looks. She makes sure to take her time finishing the document she's reading before finally looking up at him.
"Oh, hello Draco. What are you doing here?"
He smirks down at her. "I had some business to do, but I thought I'd drop by while I'm in the building. How is it being back at the Ministry grindstone?"
"It was fine until you showed up," Astoria says, deadpan. "I can't believe you sent me chocolate buttons. Where did you get them from?"
"I stole them," Draco replies, without a flicker, then he grins at her look of horror. "Of course I didn't. My delinquent days are behind me. I ordered them from that shop on Diagon Alley that sells Muggle sweets." He picks up one of the packets and inspects it. "Are they good? I've never tried them."
She steals it back from him, tears it open, and offers him a button. "Try one."
Draco pulls a disgusted face. "It's a Muggle sweet..."
Astoria rolls her eyes. "It's chocolate, Draco. Muggle chocolate is no different from Magical chocolate. It won't kill you."
"It might," he says, but when he catches her look he takes the button and eats it. There's a thoughtful frown on his face as he chews and swallows, then he shakes his head. "Magical chocolate is better. I'm all for greater acceptance, but really. Magical chocolate is clearly far superior."
Astoria shrugs and throws a couple more buttons into her mouth. "All the more for me then." She waves a hand at Draco, shooing him away. "Leave now, Malfoy. I have work to do."
He leans in closer. "What are you doing?"
She sets the buttons aside and opens her file. "Top secret and highly confidential work for the Ministry of Magic, which is none of your business."
He plucks the top sheet out of her file. "Artefact investigation? I thought this was your sister's department."
Astoria snatches it back. "It is, but this one hurt a Muggle. It's a pocket watch that ages you when you open it up to check the time. It was sold as an antique to this elderly Muggle woman, who... well..." she swallows. "She died. I'm trying to help her husband get compensation, but it was stolen before we could get a look at it, so I have no idea who it came from or who has it now. It could be with some other unsuspecting person as we speak."
Draco reaches out a hand. "Do you have any information about the watch?" As he waits for her to find the right bit of parchment he unbuttons the cuffs on his shirt and absentmindedly rolls his sleeves up. Even though it's cold outside, the office is boiling. Astoria feels like she's about to burn up, and she fans herself with the sheets she isn't using as she hands the information to him.
"Do you know who might have it?" She asks, glancing at him.
As he reads it he goes very pale. "Yes. I know exactly who has it."
"Go on," she prompts eagerly.
Draco looks at her. "I do."
She stares at him, speechless. "You... you own... was it you who gave it to-"
"No," he says sharply. "I haven't given it to anyone. I bought it a couple of days ago, because it's a beautifully crafted piece, and because... because I knew it would be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands."
She hopes he's telling the truth. He looks honest and serious, but he's a Malfoy, a former Death Eater, who's just freely admitted to owning a dark artefact. With a jolt she realises that with his sleeves rolled up the way they are she can see his Dark Mark, an ugly red scar on his arm.
"Who did you buy it from?" She asks, voice trembling a bit as she picks up a quill.
"A man called Jameson. He's an expert in cursed timepieces."
"And," she says, trying to keep herself calm and steady, "are cursed timepieces an interest of yours?"
Draco shrugs. "Only the most unique ones." He catches her eye. "I'm a collector, Astoria. I don't use these things. They're safer with me than anyone else, including the Ministry. You have a habit of destroying the more rare and beautiful items."
"This thing killed someone!" Astoria says, voice rising with a note of hysteria.
"I know," Draco says. "But it won't anymore, I'll see to that. And you can't deny that, as terrible as this thing is, it's a brilliant piece of magical engineering."
Astoria searches his face, trying to figure him out. Every time she thinks she's got a handle on him, something like this comes along, and it tosses everything back up in the air again.
"Jameson won't have given it to the Muggle woman," Draco says, looking down at the sheet of parchment again. He keeps fiddling with his left sleeve, like he's considering rolling it down over the Mark, but he doesn't. Astoria wishes he would.
"I imagine whoever gave it to her, possibly the same person who stole it back, was keen to get it off their hands," Draco continues. "Jameson's interest in these things is purely academic. I can put you in touch with him. He's helped with Ministry investigations in the past. For the right price he'll tell you who sold it to him."
Astoria swallows. She feels as though she's been hit by a Stunning Spell. The ground has been knocked from beneath her, but Draco is acting as though nothing has changed, as though he talks about back alley dealings of illegal artefacts every single day. "So..." she says. "This is how you've been helping my sister. And Harry. You know people. You... you're involved in all this... this mess." She waves a hand at the sheet of parchment.
Draco looks at her and nods. "Precisely. Connections are invaluable. I'm a Malfoy, that still carries some weight. And the Malfoy gold... that carries most weight of all." He crouches down beside her, so he's no longer towering over her, but is instead looking up at her, both hands on the desk to support himself. "This is my way of paying for what I did," he says, voice soft and low, his words meant only for her. "I have the power to take these objects and make them safe. I hand some to your sister, I feed the Aurors information, and in return I get freedom and some beautiful artefacts for my collection. This," he gives her a twisted, self-deprecating smile and spreads his hands, the Dark Mark standing out pink like an old burn on his pale skin, "Is what redemption looks like."
Astoria considers him carefully, then she looks down at her files. It's easier to think looking at words on a page than at the handsome, confusing, marked man who sends her sweets and visits her in hospital.
"I know you don't trust me," Draco murmurs, and there's the slightest catch in his voice, the only thing that belies any lack of calm. "I can't ask you to trust me. But I promise Jameson can help with this case. At least believe that."
She takes a very deep breath and closes her eyes. For a long moment she struggles, then she makes the biggest leap of her life. She opens her eyes and looks across at Draco, at the twisting, faded mark on his arm. She readies her quill. "Where can I find him?"
---
In May, the wizard who killed the Muggle woman with the stopwatch is sent to Azkaban. Two days later, Draco and Astoria walk together through a rose garden at twilight. Astoria has her hands dug deep into the pockets on her dress, and is looking around at the roses. The soft silver cloak draped over her shoulders flutters in the breeze. She can feel Draco watching her, but she doesn't mind.
The sky above them is a wash of jewel bright colours, and in the dimming light, the rose printed across the front of Astoria's dress seems to blossom into life, petals unfolding in a burst of pale pink. She reaches a hand out and runs it across the petals of the real roses blooming on either side of the path.
"Do you ever feel old?" She asks, glancing back at Draco.
He speeds up so he's walking right beside her. "I can't say I do," he says. "I suppose I'm older than I was, but that's the thing about being human. We have an unfortunate tendency to age." There's a spring of humour in his voice. He's teasing her.
She shakes her head. "My sister just got engaged," she murmurs, looking back at the roses. "I'm going to be 21 soon. It's like... time is just slipping away from me."
Draco touches her shoulder, the lightest, warm brush of his fingers against her bare skin. "You have plenty of time," he says. "We're young. We have years ahead of us. You have years."
She looks at him. "I wish I could share your confidence."
"I'm not confident," he says seriously. "I'm right."
She smiles and knocks her shoulder against his. "You're ridiculous."
They stay close together as they walk on down the path. Overhead the sky is fading to a bright turquoise, while the clouds are tinged with pale red and silvery grey.
"You know what I'm going to do if I do have years?" Astoria says.
Draco glances at her. "What's that?"
"I'm going to grow a rose garden like this." She picks one of the roses and passes her hand over the petals. It curls back into a bud, and she smiles and waves her hand over it again so it blooms even more brightly than before. "Roses are my favourite flowers." She holds the single red rose out to him and he takes it.
"It's almost as beautiful as you." He snaps the thorny stem off and tucks the flower into her hair.
She rolls her eyes, but gives a pleased smile and pats the rose more securely into place. "And since there's a chance I might not have very long at all, would you be interested in going out for dinner with me on Friday?"
A gleeful smirk spreads across Draco's face. "Did Astoria Greengrass just ask me on a date?"
Astoria turns to face him, cloak swirling behind her. She puts her hands on her hips. "Yes she did. But if you're going to be awful about it then she might decide to rescind the offer. Anyway, it's not as if we've never had dinner together before."
Draco tucks a stray curl of hair off his face. "Yes, but not an official date," he says, smirk softening into something warm and pleased. "It would be a pleasure to have dinner with you any day, Astoria."
---
Several months later, the night before Daphne's wedding. Astoria sits cross-legged on her sister's bed, hugging a pillow to her chest, all wrapped up warm in white pyjamas patterned with roses, and a fluffy dressing gown. Daphne waves her wand and sets two steaming mugs of hot chocolate down on the bedside table, before hopping up onto the bed. It bounces under her weight, and she shuffles up until her knees are pressed against Astoria's.
"Are you nervous?" Astoria asks, taking hold of her hands. They've done this ever since they were little, sat together and held hands, and told each other all their secrets.
"More excited," Daphne says. "Mum's being so neurotic I have nothing to be nervous about. If there's a hair out of place anywhere she'll shout at it until it gets in line. Nothing will go wrong. I think even the weather is scared of her."
Astoria snorts and squeezes her sister's hands. "I think it'll be a good day. You're going to look beautiful."
"I will never be able to thank you enough for helping me with the dress," Daphne sighs. "If I look good it's all thanks to you."
"Don't be stupid. You're stunning, dress or no dress. Really, the dress is just the glitter on the icing on top of the cake."
"Well," Daphne says. "You're still my hero, whether you like it or not."
Astoria sighs and looks down at their linked hands. "I'm going to miss you."
Daphne laughs and drops her hands, taking her by the shoulders instead and giving her a gentle shake. "I'm getting married, Astoria. I'm not dying, or moving to Australia or anything. You can see me whenever you want. And anyway." Daphne takes her hands again and gives them a little squeeze. "It's not as though you'll miss me for long." She wiggles her eyebrows at Astoria, who rolls her eyes.
"I'll always miss you. It won't be the same. It won't just be us anymore. There are all these awful men involved."
"Awful men like Draco Malfoy," Daphne smirks. "When are you going to put him out of his misery and marry him?"
Astoria gives her sister's hands a little shove. "When he stops being useless and asks me."
"Why does he have to ask you?" Daphne asks. "You're a strong, independent woman. You could ask him."
Astoria shakes her head and grins. "No. It's much more fun to watch him try and work out how to impress me enough to get me to say yes. He doesn't need to impress me of course, but he doesn't need to know that. He's normally so confident. I enjoy watching him struggle."
"You," Daphne says, pointing at her, "are a cruel woman."
Astoria tosses her hair and gives an angelic smile. "I know."
They both grin, but as silence stretches between them, Daphne's smile softens, and she plays with Astoria's fingers, curling them and uncurling them.
"I'm glad you're happy," she says finally. "That was all I ever really wanted for you. And anyone or anything who can make you smile the way he does must be a good thing."
Astoria sniffs and laces her fingers together with Daphne's. "You're the one getting married. Aren't I supposed to be giving you this speech?"
Daphne shrugs. "Sometimes you just have to say these things when you get chance. Anyway," she says, deadpan. "Like you so wisely pointed out, I'm about to get married. You'll never see me again. My every waking hour will be devoted to waiting on my husband."
The two women look at each other for a moment, then they burst out laughing and fall against each other. Astoria wraps her arms tight round her sister and holds onto her. Daphne ruffles her hair and rubs her back.
"I love you, little sister," Daphne murmurs.
"Love you too, Daffodil," Astoria mumbles in return.
They stay like that, curled up together, arms round each other. Astoria rests her head on Daphne's shoulder, and Daphne strokes her hair. Just the two of them, quiet and still and complete. Until finally they realise they've neglected their hot chocolate. Then attention turns to the far more important business of Warming Charms, sugar, and hyperactive giggling.
---
"Draco!" Astoria skips barefoot across the lawn, shoes held in one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other. Draco, who's sitting on a wall on the other side of the grass, watches her approach with a smile on his face. Astoria's hair flies as she dances toward him in the afternoon sunshine, and she feels light as air. For a day in mid-October it's unseasonably warm, it feels more like June than the beginning of Autumn.
"Draco," she chirps, twirling in a circle as she reaches him. "Look what I've got." She waves the flowers in his face, and flops against him, grinning up at him.
"Flowers," he says, voice dripping with amusement. "Very nice. Do you realise your dress is getting dirty?" He stoops down and picks the train up for her. "You're going to ruin it, and it's quite beautiful."
Astoria hands him her shoes. "Hold these." She draws her wand and waves it carelessly over the train of her dress. The dirt melts away in an instant. "See? Good as new." She tucks the wand away and waves the flowers at him again. "I caught them. The flowers. Daphne threw them and I caught them." She beams at him, but annoyingly he still doesn't seem to have any idea what she's going on about. He just pats her on the shoulder.
"Congratulations. Perhaps I'll make a Quidditch player of you yet. There's hope for your hand-eye coordination. I'm curious though, exactly how much champagne have you had to drink, Astoria? You're supposed to be avoiding alcohol. It messes with your potions."
She sighs and rolls her eyes. "It's my sister's wedding. If I'm not allowed to drink today, when am I? Anyway, I only had one glass... well, one and a half." She catches his look and giggles. "Okay, two. But it's fine. You know I'm not drunk because I can still walk in a straight line." She points dead ahead back toward the house, then leans into Draco's side, holding her newly won bouquet up to her nose and breathing in the scent of the flowers.
"You know what it means," she says quietly, twisting the bouquet round in her hands and looking at the riotous colour of the petals. "When you catch the flowers at a wedding." She looks at him. "It means you're the next one to get married." She nudges him in the side, and gives him a bright little smile. "No pressure, Draco."
Draco smiles and wraps an arm round her waist. "If that's supposed to be a hint, you should know it's all in hand."
She turns round in his grip and looks up at him, excitement flooding her. "Is it?"
He nods and runs his hands over her shoulders. "Don't worry. I mean, I'd ask you now but I believe it's incredibly impolite to get engaged at someone else's wedding. I'd quite like to stay on your sister's good side. She's almost as terrifying as you."
"Almost," Astoria grins.
"Almost," Draco confirms.
Astoria takes his hands and inspects them. He's wearing a couple of rings on his right hand today, one with the Malfoy crest, and one a delicate silver band in the shape of a serpent chasing its tail. He has none on his left hand.
"I don't think she'd be upset," she says. "And we could always keep it secret for a couple of days. Pretend we have some sort of decorum and self-restraint." She says the last few words in a mocking, posh voice.
"I'm not sure I could manage to keep it secret," Draco says, meeting her eyes. "I'd need everyone to know you'd said yes to me."
"Everyone already knows I'm going to say yes," she says. "The question is basically a formality at this point."
"Really?"
She nods and twists the snake ring round his finger. "I've fallen in love with you, Draco. The whole world knows it. Half of them think I'm stupid, the other half think you're stupid. But they don't matter. All that matters is that you know how I feel, and that you don't think we're stupid."
"People have too many opinions about things that don't concern them," Draco says, throwing a glance in the direction of the house. "You're so good at not caring. I think sometimes it's the worrying about everyone's perceptions that can lead you into trouble."
Astoria nods and pulls his hands to her waist, while she puts hers on his shoulders. "Life's too short not to be true to yourself."
"Quite," he says, giving her a small smile. "And I certainly don't want to waste any of your precious time." He considers her for a moment, then he sighs and slips a hand into his pocket. "Please don't tell your sister. Not today."
Astoria's heart races as she watches him pull a rose gold ring from his pocket. A pattern of leaves weaves round the band, and a flower set with a diamond blossoms at the top.
"It's not a family heirloom," Draco says, looking down at it. "I'm sorry. I had a little... trouble trying to procure one of those. But in a way I'd rather start again. A new life. With you."
"Roses are my favourite flower," she murmurs, reaching out to touch the decoration on the ring with trembling fingers. She brushes them over the diamond, then she pulls her hand back and wipes her eyes. "Yes," she says. She looks up at him through a blur of tears. The sunlight chases the shadows from his face, and makes his eyes gleam like the droplets of water playing in the fountain by the house. His hair shines gold and he looks happy. "Yes I'll marry you." She wipes her eyes again. "I told you I'd say yes, I-" She shakes her head. "I love you."
And then she leaps at him and he catches her and holds onto her as she kisses him, hands buried in his hair, legs wrapped round his waist, eyes closed, warm with sunlight and happiness and love.