A Visual Universe
The Greengrass girls had been educated and instructed on what to wear, how to act and what subjects to succeed in since they were small children. Their family, like most pure-blood families, were concerned with how society saw them. Unlike the Black's of the old war, or the Malfoy's of the new, it was never suggested that they take part in the war; they were taught the opposite. Her father told them that the choice to not have taken part in politics was better than to regret your allegiance later. Astoria was a fifth year who had quietly left the castle the night Voldemort came to Hogwarts with her old sister Daphne. That moment had no lasting affect. They were safe.
For Astoria it was her art classes that altered her in the way some people talked about the war. Her parents had their two daughters trained in drawing, painting and needlework since they could hold the supplies in their hands. The training changed the way Astoria saw the whole world.
She could separate the browns that were red from those that were blue. She saw the clash of bright complimentary colors to make others see dull and dark colors. She could see the difference in textures; the ones that clashed and the ones that complimented. Astoria was talented in the arts because she saw the whole of the world as a painting. She constantly evaluated the environment she was in and the amount of hours it would take for her to get the perfect texture of a man's skin or the color of a child's eyes, or the awkward perspective when you looked at the world upside down.
Draco stepped into Astoria's life while she was deliberating on the colors she'd need to mix to perfect the color of the enchanted forests' entrance. He has a cigarette in his hand and he's standing in contrapposto. He doesn't slick back his hair like he used to in their days at Hogwarts. His skin is a type of porcelain white that would have needed a bit of blue added to the mixture while his hair would have called for more yellow. He noticed her stare; she hadn't attempted to hide it.
"Hello Astoria." He nodded at her.
Astoria was taught how a woman should act with a man. Her father encouraged a betrothal while her mother fought for her daughters to have the privilege to marry for love. Neither of them would have been pleased to know that she'd slept with Draco Malfoy without so much as two dates. Astoria did as she pleased. She needed to know the texture of the rest of Draco's body. She had needed to see the color he blushed, and the way the lines of his face relaxed in ecstasy, and the shadows that were cast on his body from the fireplace.
Astoria did as she pleased and married the man with the most interesting scowl and the most challenging smile to render on canvas. Her love for Draco was founded on his lines and colors. People might have called her vain if they'd known; but they simply didn't see the universe the way Astoria Malfoy had. The visuals determined everything.