-Listless Days-
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Prompt: Agitated
The day was long and listless, filled with nothing but inane chatter and a heat that stuck Astoria's clothes to her skin. She was perched in a wicker chair on the patio at the back of Malfoy Manor, pretending to listen intently to the words of one of her husband's colleagues, but instead thinking about the lilies that grew scattered in the flowerbeds. Those weren't particularly interesting thoughts either, but anything was better than this man's stories.
The afternoon passed too slowly for her liking, but soon enough it was time for the man to leave.
She stood and kissed the man and his wife on their cheeks in farewell, and stepped back as her husband bade his own goodbyes. Astoria watched him closely as he shook the ministry-worker's hand. Draco turned away, and only she saw the brief smirk that dusted across his lips. It was gone before his eyes met hers, but Astoria couldn't clear the disapproval from her expression quickly enough. Draco frowned, but said nothing.
Agitation rose up inside her, an insistent cockroach of frustration gnawing away at her chest. Draco knew how she hated that, how he acted as though he was superior to everybody else.
The worker was a vapid man, and Astoria wasn't overly fond of him herself, but she wasn't better than him. He lived, and worked and loved just as she, and his blood was as pure.
Draco was like that though; he thought himself better than everyone, even her. He tried to hide it, but she could see the way he sneered when she made a comment too trivial for his ears, or when she cared too much for her appearance. It frustrated her even more the fact that his smirks, his disdain for others, were the foolish things that had made her teenaged, Slytherin heart want him.
She'd grown up a lot since then, and the war only pushed that growth further. She'd been like him once too, though perhaps not to the same extreme. Still, the war had made her different, but only served to push him further into his prejudices. To the public he seemed calmer and more compliant, but they did not hear the scathing remarks and brutal insults that Draco flung about so carelessly behind their backs.
Every time he started on one of his rants, Astoria's agitation only grew fiercer and fiercer, but she tried to keep herself neutral. He was her husband after all, and no matter what his opinions were, she would always comply with him.
And there was more to it than that.
Despite his ignorance, despite his arrogance and discrimination, she loved him.
These weren't times when a wife was forced to marry a man because of his status or blood purity (though it was, of course, preferred). No. She had chosen to marry him, and despite everything, she would never regret that decision. He had too many positive qualities to be overcome by the bad. Just as his arrogance infuriated her, her attention to pointless, trivial things bothered him, yet he never spoke of it aloud.
They were the same, really. They were as frustrated with one another as much as they loved each other. And she loved him more than anything in the world.
Their marriage was conventional enough on the outside, but within it was something else entirely. It was strange, filled with unspoken words and side glances, but Astoria was strong in her conviction: they loved each other whole-heartedly, purely, and as truly as any other in love.
And that let her push the agitation down and continue on through the listless days.
Draco's eyes returned to hers, and she smiled.