In Another Life

by xXBeckyFoo

Believing that she has already paid Fate everything she owed, Astoria is ready to live in a world post-war. She just can't seem to align the parallels that let her have the man she loves. Long oneshot.

"You know I love you, I really do

But I can't fight for you anymore

And I don't know, maybe we'll be together again

Sometime, in another life" - The Veronicas

---

The world was in chaos when the war came to an end. Devastation had taken its toll on every person, every structure, every mind in every inch of their world. Pretending that it all remained the same, that it all could go back to the year before the Dark Lord came to full power was a childish dream. But everyone did dream it so. All those who had lost loved ones, who had been wounded, or left in poverty wished they could wake up in their warm beds like the walls around them, the floor beneath their feet was not drenched in red. But blood stained their hands, sinking into every small line of their skin, refusing to come out. They were all to blame—especially the families that branded themselves with the mark of the devil.

Astoria called it karma and Daphne called it the curse of having idiot parents. The youngest Greengrass daughter believed the misfortune that took reign of her family was Fate coming back to set things right, to take from them what they had taken from others. Fate was cunning and just, a powerful sorceress that ruled parallels, making everything and everyone equal. The Greengrasses survived the war in tact, not one member of the prestigious family was lost at the hands of an enemy, of a comrade, of their Master, or taken to the cold, grey cells of Azkaban. Nor was their fortune or properties dented or damaged in the aftermath of the almighty battle. How was it justice that a family with bigotry and the devil's tattoo got to remain whole? No, Fate was to cast her spell of karma on the Greengrasses to even out the loss others had suffered by people like them. Karma took their wealth and their father.

Astoria did not mourn her father with heartbreaking grief, for she understood the balance Fate was trying to restore. Daphne did not mourn either; the eldest hardened her heart with resentment against her father—against both parents—for choosing not to go underground before the Dark Lord took purebloods as slaves and Potter won the war.

Weeks that followed were challenging, but quite riveting for Astoria. When she confessed to her older sister her exact sentiments, Daphne assured she would slap the satisfaction out of Astoria if she so much as saw a smile from her. Of course, that was said to Astoria as Daphne cast a mending spell on her favorite black dress for the second time in a week before she Flooed to Witch Weekly Tower where she was, as Daphne called herself, 'a lowly intern that has to fetch tea and kiss arse to the bimbo Editor and two dried up writers'. Daphne would not quit, though; not when that bimbo Editor of hers paid decent wages that contributed to the rent of the small flat near Hogsmeade that housed the sisters and their mother. Not to mention that Witch Weekly was the only place Daphne had not been shunned from for being associated to Death Eaters. 'They only care about how fashionable and trendy I was in whatever side of the war I was in,' Daphne had said, 'and how savvy I am to gossip around our community.'

Astoria found the same act of pardon in Flourish and Blotts when every shop in Diagon Alley practically shut the door in her face before she even inquired if they had any positions open. One other place that seemed inclined to hire her had been Weasleys Wizard Wheezes despite never asking for a job there. The surviving twin—George, as he had introduced himself—came from behind her, undetected, as Astoria stood on the threshold of Knockturn Alley. Some shops on the dark opposite of Diagon Alley had achieved their opening with Nicholas Greengrass' help; Astoria, though wary, knew she could acquire a job there if she asked. It was not ideal, but they needed food on their table and a roof over their heads, one that was already scarce and the other impending on eviction.

With a deep breath and a sense of selfless determination, Astoria rose her foot to cross when an unexpecting voice made her lose balance. 'Not sure that's a good idea, blondie. Word has it Aurors will be shutting down most of Knockturn Alley at the end of the month.' A hand wrapped around Astoria's elbow, keeping her from falling. Hollow brown eyes found their way into her blue ones, scorching her with a misery that made her heart sink and crash. 'Besides, they aren't paying well on that end. You're lucky if you earn two galleons and a biscuit every shift.'

'It's the best offer I've gotten all month,' Astoria confessed to the grieving man, pulling her elbow back from his fingers. His proximity alone caused her to feel the ripples of the loss he had suffered, the parallel Fate was still trying to even out.

If he sensed her recoiling from him, the Weasley twin did not show it. A greyness, alike what emitted from Knockturn Alley, formed a bubble around him, sealing him off from the surrounding world. 'Yeah, people are wankers sometimes. You're in luck, though. I can offer you a position at my shop. Seven galleons an hour, six days a week, a month of holiday with pay, thirty percent employee discount, and dental.'

'Dental?'

'Something Hermione made me add. Said it's what muggles get and that I ought to try it. I think she's trying to get Ron to fix that gap.'

Though Weasley was plagued with heartache and despair, there was a kindness, a flare of approachability that still lived beneath his skin. Astoria thought he was a miracle, something divine and blessed by life. Yes, he was in pain, he had a wound on his soul that would never heal, but he would learn to see colors again. That was important when a grey haze covered their world. Nonetheless, Astoria could not take his offer. She had willingly sacrificed what needed to be taken from her as a payment to Karma, but she did not need the reminder. She did not need to see George Weasley's face every day and know that no matter what Fate did to set balance to the world of loss and gain he would never be the same again. His balance, his other half, had been taken from him, never to return but in agonizing reflections in the mirror.

'Thank you, but I can't. It wouldn't be right.'

'I'll throw in a biscuit, too, then.'

Astoria smiled gently at him, shaking her head. 'I'll just try someplace else.'

'How about Flourish and Blotts?' George called as she turned away from the entrance of Knockturn Alley. He took a fluid stride to stand beside her, walking at her same, slow pace. 'I know the new owner.'

George Weasley did not take a no for an answer—not a second time, he said as he walked her to the bookshop. It was an hour to noon, the hour before Diagon Alley buzzed with people and business, so the narrow pathway was lacking in audience. George opened the door to the worn shop with newly repaired windows, allowing her entrance before he followed. Flourish and Blotts had always been kept in a tidy, strict fashion, but the havoc the war had produced throughout their world had also impacted the shop: Damage had been done to the walls, chunks missing or as powder on the floors; bookcases were overturn, broken; textbooks and storybooks were discarded on the ground like murder victims that had been mutilated, limbs torn out. It was a tragedy, really.

'At least you can walk in now,' George added as he dinged a bell on a broken counter desk. 'Bloody hell. Help here is terrible,' he said a second after his first touch, producing morefrustrated ding, ding, dings.

There was a shuffling from the room behind the reception area of the bookshop, closely followed by a thud and a groan of frustration before someone came out. Astoria did not have to see the face of the witch that approached because her untamable, brown curls were enough identification.

'Are you kidding me?' snapped Hermione Granger. 'I don't have time to deal with another one of your mishaps, George. You already took Ron to assist you. I need to finish sorting the back room by tonight.'

George did not seem the least bit annoyed with the Brightest Witch of the Age, Astoria noted. She found it peculiar that Granger was not being kinder in regards to the grieving redhead, but he seemed grateful for it. Perhaps, after two months since the end of war, everyone wanted to move on from shattered ground.

'Ron's back to human form, if you must know. But that's not why I'm here. I feel bad for hiring the git right from under you this summer, so I thought I'd find you someone to assist you. Hermione, this is Astoria Greengrass,' George placed a hand on her back softly, like a whisper, 'and she's willing to work for food.'

Granger's brows furrowed when her eyes scanned Astoria. There was a confusion in her brown eyes before realization settled. Hermione had placed who the witch was. Astoria heard the rejection tumbling out of the Gryffindor's mouth before her lips parted.

'I can look elsewhere,' Astoria spoke. 'Really.'

'Aren't you heading back to Hogwarts this year?' asked Granger instead, disregarding what Astoria had said in an attempt to save face. 'For your Seventh Year, right?'

Years of training to be austere, unwavered by the uncomfortable, made Astoria lift her chin as her back went rigid. There was poison at the end of her tongue, ready to slash and pierce the brunette, but then she remembered where she was and whom with. Survivors of war, alike her. People that had been left with nothing, alike her. So Astoria released a breath, her shoulders slackening.

'If I go back to Hogwarts my mother starves,' she murmured tensely. 'Daphne and I need to work to have a place to live.'

Granger frowned. 'But your education is important. You're young. You simply cannot—'

'Hermione, let it go,' groaned George. 'Not everyone is returning to Hogwarts.'

Granger slammed a book in her hands onto the wonky desk. 'Ron and Harry are making a terrible mistake.'

'They'll be Aurors by the time you're out of school. I say they're gonna be fine. You're just upset you're returning alone. Though you shouldn't be. You're Head Girl.'

'And Draco Malfoy is Head Boy,' hissed Granger. 'Let's not forget that detail, George.'

'If he crosses a line you can always turn him into a ferret and keep him as a pet—or feed him to Crookshanks. Whatever you like,' George said, waving the matter off. 'So, what'd you say? Hire Greengrass or not?'

Hermione exhaled through her nostrils to settle the frustrated pink beneath her cheeks. 'Can you start right now?' she asked. 'Because there's a lot to do before I return to Hogwarts. And there's loads I need to show you before you manage this place on your own.'

'Manage?' gasped Astoria at the trust the Gryffindor was extending without knowing more than her name.

Granger nodded firmly. 'I can't pay you more than seven galleons an hour for the first couple of months, but by the end of the year I calculated a raise of sixteen galleons an hour.'

'And don't forget dental, 'Mione!' called George as Astoria quickly followed the brunette to the back room of the bookshop.

X

Becoming the operating manager of Flourish and Blotts was overwhelming for young Astoria the first few weeks of restoration and organization. It was no surprise to her that Hermione Jean Granger was a perfectionist to the last degree, but Astoria did not count on the fervent need she would feel to make the Gryffindor proud. Granger had spectacular ideas to transform the dusty bookshop from their youth into something revolutionary, something that expressed the change she, the Brightest Witch of the Age, had undergone because of war. She wanted something expelling brilliancy, intelligence, yet something polished, grand, mighty. And that's exactly what it became.

Out of respect to the previous owners who had perished tragically during the war, Granger kept the name of the shop, but anyone who stepped inside of the remodeled building could see a new sun on the horizon. Granger transformed the old, crowded and vintage Flourish and Blotts into an ethereal, three-level arena of magic with the help of an extending charm. The floors were a smooth, mahogany marble, so polished one could see their reflection; the walls were an off-white with gold, eccentric detailing that matched the posts sustaining every level; the windows were stained glass, beautiful and elegant; and the books, oh, the endless books, were perfectly organized in their marble cases that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

A week before Granger's departure to Hogwarts to complete her Seventh Year she asked Astoria to dress in her best attire and meet her promptly at eight at the front of the shop. Astoria had not known what to expect from the Gryffindor, but it definitely was not her saying, 'We have our first business meeting with a publishing company, and you are going to head it.'

'What? No. I can't. I'll ruin it,' Astoria remarked in outrage, her chest heavy.

'You will not,' rebuffed Granger as they walked to the tall building of Quick Ink Publishing Co. 'You just have to be determined, straightforward, and confident. Mister Flint will try to intimidate you, but he's all bark and no bite.'

'I don't know what that means,' huffed Astoria before she impeded Granger's path to the front glass doors of the building. 'Look, Granger, I can't do this. Really. One look at me and Flint Sr. will throw me out. He hates my family. And...I don't know how to do anything! I've never had to lift a single finger my entire life. I had no idea what I was getting myself into by accepting your job. I'm not equipped to do anything but stand tall, wear fine dresses, and be richer than everyone else—which is useless now since I don't have anything but my posture left!'

Granger sighed deeply. For a moment Astoria thought she was about to reach for one of her hands, give her a comforting, gentle gesture that was typical of the kind Hermione Granger, but it never came. Perhaps it was due to Granger wanting to prove a point, to be firm with a girl who was so used to bending rules and getting what she wanted in life. Regardless, flashes of sincerity glimmered in Granger's brown eyes before she cleared her throat and frowned.

'One thing you should know about me, Greengrass, is that I never make mistakes. I was not wrong in giving you this job. That being said, do you think I know anything about owning a bookshop? Merlin, I was meant to be buying robes at Madam Malkin's when I ended up signing the ownership papers. Does that mean I'm going to give up? No!' Astoria was swatted by the neat folder in Granger's hands. 'I'm going to learn, try—possibly fail at times—but get better at it. And so will you. You'll make something of yourself and prove everyone wrong. Now, you're going to march in there with that pretty dress and perfect posture and get us this deal with Quick Ink. If Flint gets cheeky, I'll curse him.'

Astoria had been so elated she managed to earn Flourish and Blotts a perfect deal with Quick Ink that she accepted to go out with Granger to celebrate the feat. Granger apparated them to a trendy pub in Muggle London where two redheads and a girl Astoria knew as Angelina Johnson waited for them. George Weasley smiled at Astoria, being the first to extend a pint in her direction. Astoria eyed the large glass, unsure of what the liquid inside tasted like. Meanwhile, Johnson and the Weaslette—ehem, Ginny Weasley—shouted a congratulatory cheer for their friend. At the start of the evening Astoria was sure only George and Granger would speak to her, but by the end she left arm linked with Ginny to the closest apparition point (the redhead less drunk and self-charged with the responsibility of making sure Astoria got home without being splinched).

Regardless of having scored Flourish and Blotts a major deal all on her own, Astoria was still nervous about Granger's departure. The night before September 1st, Astoria tossed and turned in her small bed, her mind conjuring up a thousand ways she was going to ruin the bookshop before her first day ended. When the sun rose outside of her window—with Daphne rushing to find her shoes, screaming, 'I have to be there before Bimbo Boss this morning! I might have had a one nighter with a Chaser for Puddlemere United and left evidence in her office!'—Astoria found herself without sleep, changing into an old coat and black trousers, and apparating to King's Cross. She entered the secret barrier of Platform 9 3/4, marveling with nostalgia at all the young, surviving students filled with joy in returning to their old school. There was a cloud of grief as thick as the steam being produced by the Hogwarts Express, but Astoria tried her best not to linger on it just as everyone else was doing. As Astoria maneuvered around the crowd, she found the brunette she was searching for in a not too far off distance. Granger and Ginny were surrounded by Granger's parents (whom Astoria had met once at the bookshop), Potter, Weasley, and Mister and Mrs. Weasley. They huddled and blended into one warm family, something Astoria had often scrunched her nose at, but now found herself strangely envious of.

'I often debate if Hermione is really the Brightest Witch or a bloody Seer,' George's voice came from behind Astoria, startling her slightly. His brown eyes were on her, broken as always, but with playful mirth fringing the edges. 'She told me to give you this at the shop—where you're supposed to be in twenty minutes for opening.'

George said nothing further as he pulled a squared parchment out from his pocket and handed it to Astoria. He smiled at her, nodding once, before heading in the direction of his family saying farewell to Granger and the youngest Weasley child. Slowly, Astoria's cold fingers unfolded the letter.

Greengrass,

I do hope you haven't woken up this morning with the intention to quit before your first day in charge of the bookshop. If that is the case, I do sincerely hope you stop faffing about and get that silly idea out of your head. You are going to be my manager and you are going to open that bookshop today. We have invested too much money and time to go back now. I am counting on you.

I know you are scared, but I often find that amazing things lie on the other side of our fears. This is your moment. I do hope you take it.

See you soon,

H.G.

With a smile on her red lips and a spark of determination, Astoria apparated to Diagon Alley and opened Flourish and Blotts. At the head of two other employees, Astoria met the shop's quota of the day and went home with newfound confidence in herself.

X

After a month of a seemingly normal yet satisfying routine, Astoria's life was impacted by a person she least suspected to see again while having lunch with George and Angelina Johnson (whom George stated he did not fancy, but Astoria knew otherwise by his starry gaze whenever the woman spoke). Theodore Nott slyly exited Knockturn Alley and casually strolled into Madame Malkins. No one else around had noticed him, but Astoria could spy those disheveled, brown locks and wide, bright eyes from miles away.

A suppressed gasp produced a fit of coughing that had George laughing and Angelina raising an eyebrow. Astoria had to simulate a carefree attitude long enough to finish lunch with her new friends. Soon after, her mind was a frantic mess when she returned to the bookshop. She tried her hardest not think about Theodore Nott, but the memories of him came tumbling back into her head. Astoria pleaded with her heart not to drown her with an agonizing feeling she thought she had survived, but the bloody thing had an agenda of its own. Astoria sat herself in the backroom of the shop, upset for letting Nott's face haunt her again.

She was a Second Year the first time her eyes fell on him. She will always remember the night like she lived it every second of every day: A group assembled around the fireplace of the dark, cold Slytherin Common Room, Malfoy at the center as he took bets against Harry Potter. The Common Room was abuzz with jeers and nasty remarks against every single competitor of the Triwizard Tournament—save for those who supported Krum for his connections to Dark Magic—but there was one boy who sat at the corner, in an armchair, reading a book. Astoria was the only one among her housemates that noticed him. She was twelve at the time, too young to know what love was, but she would learn later on it was in that moment that her world ignited in sparks.

Astoria spent a year and a half pining after the dark-haired boy. She thought it was an insufferable crush, but when she entered her Third Year and he started dating Tracey Davis, Astoria thought she would never stop crying. She did not understand how her heart could break for someone that was never hers. She had mustered courage to speak to him, to mingle with him whenever Daphne was in his circle, but he saw her as just that—Daphne's little sister. He was never really aware how one of his smiles, albeit a smirk at times, got her blood rushing. How could he, then, know that every time he snuck a kiss with Tracey Davis Astoria's universe cracked at the seams?

After barely surviving Third Year, summer came and Astoria thought she would spend the holiday getting over Nott. She would go to her annual trip to Greece with her family, get bronzed, shop, dine exquisitely, mature, and be incredibly poise and stunning in time for Fourth Year. Except, of course, the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters had plans of their own. There was no time for the musings of a teenage girl when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was assembling his army. Mister Greengrass abandoned his roles of father and husband for that of dedicated servant, just as all heads of every prestigious, pureblood family in Britain. In order to obtain some sense of normality, respective heirs gathered together to pretend. That was how Astoria spent an entire summer looking into Theodore Nott's eyes as the sun shone down on him. But her heart had not suffered—there was a glitter in his gaze when he looked at her now.

Tracey Davis was a thing of the past for Astoria when her Fourth Year began. Davis and Nott could hardly look at one another without scowling. 'He caught her with one of the Flint brothers,' Daphne had muttered, nose scrunched, as Tracey passed them one morning, 'and not the cute one, either.' It was on an October midnight that Astoria found Nott by the fireplace again, with a book on his lap and the same iridescent light glowing around him from those years back. The tension building among students whose parents followed the Dark Lord was getting too intense, too thick that Astoria could hardly fall asleep in her own dorm without one of her friends thrashing about with plaguing nightmares. She confessed so to Nott when he asked why she was out of bed. Astoria considered it a risk to admit her fear, but he had abandoned his place to approach her. Astoria held her breath when he was so close that she could count and connect the freckles on his nose. He tucked a loose, blonde strand behind her ear, smiling so gently that Astoria understood the meaning of affection for the first time in her life. 'I can chase your demons away,' he murmured to her before placing his lips on hers.

Her world sparked in a kaleidoscope of colors, all derived from his particular shade of blue. Everything was beautiful and magical. Everything was passion and wonder. Everything was love. Until it was not. Draco Malfoy let Death Eaters into the castle one night and everything shot up in flames. More than ever before the Dark Lord's presence was felt through the Wizardying World. He demanded loyalty. He demanded servants. Heads of every pureblood family offered their sons to the Dark Lord. Theodore Nott was not spared. The summer after her Fourth Year, when Astoria expected to live off her boyfriend's embrace and scent, he spent it surrounded by death. Astoria could see a light at the end for them, after the Dark Lord won the war over Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, except the Notts fell from pureblood grace. Theodore Sr.'s brother, Thomas Nott, decided that Mudbloods were worth saving. Theodore Sr. knew the moment would present itself when the Dark Lord ordered him to kill his brother and he knew he could not complete the task. So, the head of the Nott family gathered his sons, his wife, and brother and went underground. All Astoria was given was a scrap of parchment in sloppy handwriting that said 'I'll see you in another life, Tori.'

Two years later and he was back. He was in London. Theo was alive. Yet, he had not gone looking for her. Perhaps those few months together had meant more to her than they had to him. And that was all right, Astoria convinced herself as she left the backroom to continue with her work in the bookshop. She was not the fourteen year old, doe-eyed girl from before. Astoria was seventeen, a new adult, a new woman. Theodore Nott was her first love, but she would have others.

Yet...she really hoped it would be him, over and over again. In this life and the next.

X

Five weeks and three days went by before Astoria encountered Theodore Nott again. Her body sensed him before her eyes actually saw him—she was at the counter of the bookshop going over paperwork when the skin over her bones lit up with a billion, tiny electrical currents. Her heart, the poor fool, jolted awake, fluttering wings in a rhythm that searched for its other half. All that reaction from her part and Nott had not noticed her. He entered Flourish and Blotts and went directly to the furthest end of the shop, strutting like he knew where every book was located.

Astoria must have stayed frozen to the spot for a long period of time that one of the workers called for help.

'Greenie, you all right there?'

When her eyes blinked back to focus, George and the employee came into view. Astoria released the grip she had on the documents she was to owl to Granger later that day. She inhaled once to gather herself, yet her voice still came out in a squeak. 'Don't call me Greenie,' was what she responded.

He reached a hand over the counter to squeeze one of Astoria's. 'You look unwell. Did you eat the Pumpkin Pasties I brought in this morning? Because, surprise, one of them was rigged with this new enchantment I'm trying out. I needed a new test subject, but Angelina threatened my manly parts if I tried it on her again, so I thought you might be willing to help a bloke out.'

Against every lesson of proper pureblood behavior she had been taught, Astoria wanted to break down into tears. Yes, her body had sparked from seeing Nott, but now the flame had spread into an unforgiving wildfire. Astoria was sure she was going to die then and there. What she was feeling, how painfully her heart wanted Nott, was completely unbearable. And it was made worse when he walked up to the counter.

'Can you ring this up for me?' said Theodore Nott as he placed the book on the counter, looking deep into Astoria's eyes without really seeing her. He glanced away from her to an object in his hands, something squared and metallic. His fingers moved at a fast pace over it.

The manager of the bookshop was unfit to make the transaction so the employee present took charge. Astoria saw the title of the book—Unbreakable Vows and Blood Contracts—before it was packaged and shoved into a plastic bag. Nott put his device back into the pocket of his black trousers before taking the bag with a polite thank you. He proceeded to the exit undisturbed.

The fire burning all that she was down to ashes somehow transformed into ruthless force bent on destroying anything around. And if Astoria was going to burn down, then she was going to take Nott with her. She abandoned her place, charging like a Chaser with a quaffle to the goal posts. Her perfectly manicured nails reached for Nott's elbow, digging into the material of his grey button-up and his skin, turning him around. His eyes did not appear startled by the abrupt attack.

'Two years!' she snarled at him, shoving him into the nearest aisle of books. 'You left for two years and you have the audacity to ignore me? Like I meant nothing to you!' Astoria's left hand blindly reached for any book; once she took one, she smacked it repeatedly against his chest.

'For Salazar's sake, Tori!' hissed Theo painfully, dropping his bag so his hands were free to cover his face from the book flying at it. 'Stop!'

Astoria released a yell of war as she put more force behind every blow she sent. 'Don't—Tori—me—you—complete—arsehole!'

Managing to grip her wrists, Theo raised Astoria's arms over her head. He spun them around, now pressing her against the bookshelf. She heaved dangerously, ready to scream bloody murder, but a silence wrapped around them when she felt the warmth of his body against hers. It was only the sound of their energetic, beating hearts between them. The book in her hands fell to the side with a muted thud.

'Why,' her voice came out in a whisper, ' why did you not find me after the war?'

His gaze glanced at her lips and back to her eyes. A tensed pause passed between them, filled with an overwhelming energy that sparked memories of midnights searching for heaven in the dark crooks of the Hogwarts castle.

'Because the war's not over, Tori,' he murmured in return. 'Not for me.'

Astoria wanted to ask what that statement exactly meant, but there was torment in his gaze that halted her from interrogating him. Everyone had demons. Everyone had nightmares from those cold, dead nights when the Dark Lord reigned. If Astoria, a privileged pureblood in the inner circle of the Dark Lord, could not find solace in her sleep some nights, she could not imagine what plagued those whom failed or fought against Him.

Instead, then, she said to Theo, 'I thought I would never see you again.'

'I had hoped that would be the case,' he returned monotonously. Theo released the grip on her wrists, slowly bring her arms back down to her side. He lost his stare into hers for a stretched moment. Astoria held her breath as he searched for something she had been carrying with her since she first laid eyes upon him. And he found it.

He stepped away from her body, leaving her now freezing without his familiar warmth. He collected his item and intended to turn. He intended to leave. But Astoria could not allow him the opportunity to maim her soul as he had before. The new Astoria, the Astoria who managed a successful business for Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of the Age, was not in the habit of losing control. So she reached for his elbow again, with the same force, but without a trace of anger. She pulled herself to him, lifting herself on her toes, and took his mouth hostage.

His book fell from his grip again. Theo needed both his hands to hold her waist, to press her against the bookshelf like he'd done so many times at Hogwarts' library when they were meant to be revising. Kissing Astoria was like remembering the sun after years of darkness. Though he knew he should stay in the shadows, Theo longed for daylight again.

X

'The bloody shower is on the fritz again,' was the first thing Daphne said as she entered the small kitchen of her flat. She had a lavender towel wrapped around her body that not only collected the excess moisture from her skin, but from the droplets of her long, blonde hair that stuck to the sides of her neck and shoulders. 'Can't you pick up a bloody book on plumbing spells or something, Tori? Honestly.'

Astoria smiled at her older sister as she placed a pitcher of fresh orange juice on the small table. 'Of course. I'll see what our selection has to offer, Daph.'

Daphne raised a sharp eyebrow. She pulled out a wooden, mismatched chair beside her mother. Ava Greengrass paused in the middle of a sentence she was composing on boring, mediocre parchment when she felt Daphne's eyes on her. Her eldest daughter questioned the reaction of her youngest, demanding an answer. Mrs. Greengrass had none. Instead, Astoria began to hum as she then brought a vase of pink and yellow roses, shuffling them carefully so their petals expanded and more color was exposed.

'Why don't you just ask Granger for a raise? It's been four months since you've been in charge. You have been doing all her work for her. More money means we can leave this poor excuse of a flat,' added Daphne as her sister handed her a glass.

'Granger's coming home for the holidays. She's going to be reassessing the budget with her legal representatives. I'm sure there's a raise coming for all of us.'

Astoria danced her way back to the kitchen counter with her back turned on her mother and sister. Her humming became dulcet singing. She opened the curtains of the kitchen with a wave of her wrist, sighing like the sun was shining in instead of the cold, white frost that was icing over Britain.

'What the hell is wrong with her?' inquired Daphne, turning back to her mother. The older woman, once so refined and beautiful, refrained from frowning at her child for the manner in which she addressed her; she had given up on Daphne ever changing her hostile ways. Daphne had a strong sense of family duty and loyalty, but the remaining Greengrasses were perfectly aware that her grudging anger lasted a lifetime. She would never forgive Ava or Dalton Greengrass for the shambles they now lived in (even if her father was now buried six feet under ground). 'Usually when I insult the Bookworm or insinuate she ask for more money Tori shouts at me.'

'Astoria has always enjoyed the Christmas season.'

'I'm doubtful that is the case, Mother. Look around you. The only Christmas celebration we will have is whatever takeaway she brings back from that Muggle restaurant she likes and gifts we manage at a discount shop.'

Mrs. Greengrass rose from her seat, collecting her inkpot and parchment. There was only so much she could tolerate of Daphne. 'Astoria, I will take my breakfast in my bedroom.'

'Yes, Mother,' complied Astoria, unaware of the hostility in the air.

Before the elder woman marched off she supplied, 'Or perhaps she is in love.'

Daphne's jawline tensed. For the past five weeks Astoria had this glow about her that she often ignored. She found it difficult—annoying, really—that Astoria was adjusting to their new crap-tastic life better than she was. From the start of their downfall, after the first Greengrass vault was emptied, Astoria kept her head held high and did not look back whilst Daphne clutched on to every precious, luxurious item they owned and told the Collectors they were going to have to pry them out of her dead hands. When Daphne raged, cursed, and drank, Astoria searched for whatever dodgy flat they could afford and shameful job that would take her. The youngest Greengrass brought them food, clothes, and a roof whilst the eldest daughter drowned her sorrows in hate. The consequences of war had made Daphne bitter, incapable of seeing the better things of life.

From time to time, however, she saw Astoria. Daphne could always see that sparkle her little sister was composed of. Astoria was the one thing Daphne loved more than couture dresses, lavish meals, exotic holidays, robust wine, gleaming jewels, and marbled mansions. Astoria was the one person Daphne loved more than herself. If she was in love, then Daphne hoped whoever the bloke was treated her little sister like a queen.

'Chocolate chip pancakes?' Astoria appeared at the table with a plate stacked with fluffy breakfast goods.

'My favorite,' said Daphne.

'I know,' smiled Astoria.

X

There was a nook between two shops at the end of Diagon Alley, right before the upbeat, chiming of the shops turned into the dark, sketchy Knockturn Alley, that was missed by those strolling by. It was where Astoria found herself crammed into with Theodore Nott pressed up against her.

She had apparated outside of the Leakey Cauldron, making her usual way to the bookshop, when she spotted that dark-haired wizard of hers tip-toeing the line of Knockturn Alley, careful not to be sighted. It would not matter if the sun went black, Astoria would find Theo through the chaos. So she made her way over, curious as to why he was constantly in and out of that shabby end; when she was about to cross the line herself, she was yanked into the thin alley between the two shops. Given the circumstances, of people despising her for her family's involvement in the war, Astoria should have been afraid of an attack, but the scent of spice at the tip of her nose made her heart flutter. The only attack she experienced was Theo's mouth on hers, devouring her, and his hands praising her body.

'Lets go away this weekend,' he muttered in her ear before nipping at it tenderly. 'You and I, alone in a villa in France. Fine wine, candles, my body on yours.'

Despite herself, Astoria giggled. She was grateful the nook was dark enough for him to be oblivious of her pink cheeks. 'I'd have to discuss it with Granger. It's a busy time for all of Diagon Alley given the Christmas season.'

'You've tended the shop all on your own for the past months she's been at Hogwarts. I'm sure she can spare you a weekend,' Theo tried to persuade her by pressing himself closer to her, enticing her with a closeness she's always craved.

Astoria could hardly breathe. She had spent the past year mourning Theo like he had been one of the dead, but now there he was. His hands on her like all those years ago when they lived their secret romance. Although there was nowhere else she rather be but with him, secluded from the rest of the world, Astoria owed Granger her undivided assistance. After all, Granger had hired her when no one else would and trusted her with her business, even without Astoria's experience in the working field.

Theo chuckled against her collarbone before she could even respond. 'I admire you, you know. You've learned to adjust to this Pureblood downfall. Not a lot of us out there can say we are surviving with dignity.'

Astoria smoothed his dark curls from the disheveled mess she tugged them into. 'Not a lot of us out there can say we kept our family's fortune. You're lucky in that retrospect.'

Past the shadows Astoria could spot a frown indenting his brows. 'Does money matter to you, Tori?'

For the first time in months Astoria had to ask herself if she missed the gold that came attached to her surname. When she was wealthy she did not have to wake up before the sun (excluding her time at Hogwarts), she did not have to assist other people, she was not under someone else's command, nor did she have to share a room with Daphne and clean up after herself. When she was wealthy Astoria did not have to think or do anything. Now, without it, her life was a constant surprise. Going from rich to poor was not an easy transition, of course, but it strangely gave Astoria control of her life again. And, honestly, she preferred it that way.

'No,' she said with the utmost sincerity. 'It doesn't. I make enough now to live and eat— and now that you're back in my life, I can honestly say I have everything I need.'

She expected him to say something else, but instead he captured her lips with another searing kiss. This was not raw, lusty, and uncontrolled. It was passionate, but sweet. It was as if he was trying to say those three words they had only exchanged once before.

After snogging for a few more minutes, Astoria fixed her clothes and hair to ease into the crowd of shoppers to head to work. She tried to bite her bottom lip to keep her foolish smile from taking over her face, but just knowing that Theo was behind her made her want to twirl and dance.

For the sake of building relationships and a strong work ethic, Astoria started the first ten minutes of her working day by greeting the employees that were on call and their present customers. After that, she would head to the back room to fetch the shipment list to review the orders and assure the scheduled deliveries were correct. Astoria knew Granger would be in (seeing as her holidays from Hogwarts had begun that day), but she did not expect to see her so soon. And she definitely did not expect to find Granger in the company of the one person who for years claimed to abhor her.

'Malfoy?'

Not that he had ever been the most pleasant person to begin with, Astoria knew that Draco Malfoy never missed an opportunity to talk to another fellow Pureblood, especially someone who had a connection with his family. Daphne nor Astoria could claim to be friends or well acquainted with Draco, but their father had been in several business endeavors with Lucius Malfoy. And when he could, Draco would take the occasion to remind the Greengrass girls who exactly owned more of those ventures. In that moment, however, he seemed far from wanting to even know Astoria existed. His silver eyes narrowed at her, dangerously so.

Granger cleared her throat, calling for Astoria's attention. 'It's great to see you,' she said genuinely, though her smile was uneasy. 'This place looks amazing. I can't thank you enough for all your hard work.'

Astoria took one hard, quizzical look at Malfoy before turning back at Granger. She wanted to tell her there was no thanks to give from her part, it was Astoria who owed her all the gratitude for taking a chance on her. Yet, with the glaring blonde behind Granger, Astoria kept the sentiment for another occasion, careful to keep her pride.

Instead, she said, 'I was just going to revise the shipment orders we placed two days ago.'

'Oh, I've got it,' Granger said, waving the folder in her hands. 'You can start with the sorting in the back, please.'

Astoria nodded, but didn't move. Silence fell on them, awkward and thick. Before any of the three could move, the bell signaling a new customer penetrated the space. Malfoy's silver eyes moved to it and narrowed even further, as if it were possible. He didn't say anything, but gave a quick glance at Granger before heading away.

The chime of the door went off again; Astoria turned to see Malfoy and Theo disappearing into the crowd of shoppers together.

X

It was Thursday evening, an hour just before closing time when Hermione, George, Ginny, and Astoria were huddled at the front desk, nibbling on the mince pies Mrs. Weasley had brought in.

'I'm just saying, if you're going to be giving Christmas bonuses, I deserve at least thirty percent of whatever goes to Greenie. I basically gave her to you and mentored her in the role as manager,' George said.

Astoria reached over to pinch him, something Ginny had taught her to do whenever her brother annoyed her. 'Don't call me Greenie,' she warned, though she had mirth in her blue eyes. 'And you did not mentor me. For all of my first week you kept coming in and screaming fire. Not to mention last week you set a pack of Pixies loose on us.'

'I was training you to deal with stress,' returned George with a petty shove back. 'Mental things can happen at any given moment.'

'Only when you're around,' Hermione said with an eye roll that made the other girls laugh. 'You're a menace, George, and you're well aware of that.'

George's phony frown slowly broke into a massive grin. He looked pleased with himself.

'Oi!' Stomps were heard coming out of the back room. Clearly just have crossed through the Floo, Ron and Harry appeared. 'You lot are late! And are those my pies?'

Ginny slapped Ron's fingers from grabbing a pastry. 'No, you git, these are for Hermione and Greenie,' Astoria frowned at this, but was ignored. 'And we are not late. George and I said we would meet you at nine. We still have five minutes.'

'He's hungry, of course he got impatient,' said Harry as he leaned against Ginny, wrapping an arm around her shoulders before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Even if Astoria had at a point mocked the Chosen One's romance with Ginny Weasley, she had always seen that sparkle of life in his emerald eyes when his girlfriend was around. It was the one thing, his constant choice to love, Astoria knew, that made him shamefully vulnerable. Yet, as she had accepted the outcome of the war and gotten to interact with the Light Side, Astoria understood that love was also what made Potter immortal.

'All right, come on,' huffed George. 'Lets go before he starts moaning.'

Ginny was fetching for her cloak when Ron maneuvered past her to get close to Hermione. 'You sure you don't want to join us?'

Ron was extremely close to Hermione that she could count the freckles on his cheeks and his pale lashes rimming his eyes. She took a step back, aware of their friends' attention on them. It was not a secret to anyone that she and Ron had kissed in the heat of the final battle (especially since Fleur had overheard Hermione and Ginny talking about it one night and practically announced it at breakfast the following day), and now it seemed to her like they were all waiting for her and Ron to publicly claim to be an item. She knew Ron was waiting for it, too, but Hermione would proceed with every one of her actions when she decided to take them.

'I can't,' Hermione sighed. 'I have so much to sort through tonight and we still haven't closed.'

Ron looked around the shop. It was empty. Regardless of how successful Flourish and Blotts was under Hermione, it was still a bookshop. No one spent their nights hanging about in one.

'Next time, I promise.' Hermione distributed a smile from Ron to the other Weasleys and Harry.

Once her friends had gone, Astoria noticed Granger's shoulders droop, like all her stress had vanished and she was taking control of her bones again.

Deciding it was none of her business to ask why that was, Astoria ate her final fragment of pastry before pulling out books from the crate on the counter. She heard the chime of the door go off after forty minutes of writing the names of those who had reserved Viktor Krum's tell-all autobiography (with a chapter dedicated to one Hermione J. Granger), sorting those who had asked for Owl Delivery and those who would be picking up their order in store.

Astoria immediately lowered her quill to greet the late customer, but swallowed it back when, once again, she made eye-contact with Draco Malfoy.

'Malfoy,' Granger squeaked out from behind Astoria, 'you're early.' Astoria snapped her neck to give the brunette an outraged look. 'That's new for you,' she added with an annoyed furrow of her brows. 'Seeing as I'm still busy, would you like a book to read? Or perhaps a coloring book would entertain you better?'

Malfoy scoffed in return before turning into the nearest aisle.

'Why is he here?' Astoria asked Granger, disregarding the fact that it was not in their developing partnership to question anything about one another's life. Still, anyone who had seen Draco Malfoy so near Hermione Granger without insulting or threatening her (twice, no less) would be just as guilty for being curious.

Granger kept her brown eyes on the register, counting sickles when she said, 'McGonagall was mental when she decided to pair us as Heads. Consequently, Malfoy and I haven't been working well as a unit, so the Headmistress decided that we would be paired on every Transfiguration assignment for the rest of the year until we got along. There's a fifteen foot essay due after the holidays.'

'I feel terrible for you, Granger,' Astoria said pityingly.

She laughed, closing the register as she now looked up. 'You can clock out now, Greengrass. I've got it all handled.'

Astoria glanced back at the aisle Malfoy had disappeared into. Surely enough, he slithered out, pale even against the yellow light of the bookshop. When he met her eyes a glimmer of dislike flashed in his pointed features.

Never one to back away from pompous tossers, Astoria threw him a untrusting glare before looking back at Granger. 'I don't mind staying for as long as you need me to.'

Granger reached out a hand to squeeze Astoria's fingers. It startled her, the affection Granger liberally gave out, but did not pull away. 'It'll be fine, really. As well, take the next week off.'

'What?' Astoria raised a sharp brow. 'We have a week before Christmas, the shop will be busy. Not to mention you're closed until after January third. You will be giving me an entire month off.'

'And you deserve it, Greengrass. Look at all that you've done while I was away. Have a holiday to unwind. Really, I'll be fine. The other employees will be here.'

Knowing that Granger was not about to change her mind, Astoria hesitantly stepped away from her work. As she Accio-ed for her cloak, Granger came from around the register and embraced her, wishing Astoria happy holidays.

Caught up in her impending free time and that getaway offer Theo had made earlier that week, Astoria put on her cloak and headed out to apparate from the Leaky Cauldron.

While Astoria definitely missed the loathsome, silver eyes of Draco following her out, Hermione did not. As she cast a locking spell on the door of the shop, she asked, 'Need you be so foul to her?'

Draco approached Hermione in calculating steps, the kind a predator makes as it stalks its prey. He could hear her heartbeat pick up pace. He outstretched an arm towards her, only to retrieve a book from the crate beside her.

'Who thought it was a brilliant idea to give Krum a book deal?' He opened the autobiography, scanning it carelessly, uninterested. 'I suppose it has to do with his rumored declaration of love for you. Everyone wants to know just how far he slid his hands up your school skirt.'

As he said this, his left hand matched every word that left his mouth, slowly moving up her mid-thigh to just an inch above the hem of her dress. Hermione gasped and Draco smirked wickedly.

'Stop it,' she retaliated with a smack against his chest as she quickly composed herself. 'Nothing happened with Viktor. He's just my friend.'

'Does he know that? Because when he appeared at Hogwarts last week he seemed quite taken in with you still.'

'You're never going to let that go, are you?' Hermione stepped away, trying to add distance, but Draco grabbed her elbow and reeled her into him.

'I had to tolerate your dates with the Weasel every weekend for the last month, Hermione. Do you really think I wanted to share you with Dumb Krum, too?'

His hands were now on her waist, fitting perfectly at her sides like her body had been shaped for his. Hermione could lose herself to that thought, to that feeling of his hands on her, but she did not allow his nasty regard to her friends, nevertheless airs of ownership (and she did not go on dates with Ron!).

Draco didn't posses her. Hermione gave herself to him.

He knew that, too. He knew she was a gift; Hermione was the sun after years of being caught in a merciless storm. When darkness and blood came bursting into his subconscious every night, making him howl in his sleep for all the demons that he carried, she was the light; she was the one to vanquish his nightmares long enough for him to find precious sleep.

Hermione thought she was losing her mind when she found that all she wanted to do was touch the blackened parts of Draco Malfoy's soul. Everyone who had survived the war knew of anguish, but it did not look inviting and tragically beautiful as it did on him. At first she assumed it was just her inability to walk away from a fractured being, but when all her thoughts were consumed by him, she knew she had crashed down the hole that had his name written in silver all the way down. Instead of trying to climb out, she welcomed the shine of him that was only visible to her.

What transpired between them was not ideal or expected. They both knew that. Draco had been cruel and malicious to Hermione for years; his father had attempted to murder her since she was a child and his aunt had tortured her on the floor of his manor. How could she forgive him for that when the rest of the world could only see the Dark Mark branded on his skin? How could he be anything else than a Death Eater? But that's exactly how they fell for one another—Hermione saw him as so much more. She believed he was capable of redemption. With that amount of trust, Draco found that he wanted to live, that he wanted to fix his soul in order to be able to feel worthy of her.

Still, it was complicated, so they hid. They searched for the solace of their Head Dormitories and dark places to love each other in every way no one would ever believe them capable of.

X

When Astoria told her mother and sister she would be taking a weekend trip to France ('it's more like a work retreat, really,' she had said to a frowning Daphne), she had to recruit help from the last person she wanted to ask—Pansy Parkinson. She needed Pansy to occupy her sister's entire weekend so she would not nose about Diagon Alley, asking about the trip Astoria found herself in. It was not like Astoria and Pansy were the best of friends (or friends at all), but she was the only one who had known about her romance with Theo. After sneaking in from her rendezvous with whatever poor bastard was caught in her web, Pansy saw them snogging late one night in the Slytherin Common Room. Of course, her silence came with a price. It had not been gold she was after, but for Theo to put in a good word for her with Malfoy (and for Astoria to be her slave for two months). Astoria hated lying to Daphne, but if it meant that she could be free with her boyfriend, she was willing to inflict her with Pansy's company for two days.

Theo kept their plans for their getaway a complete secret. Astoria was not entirely sure on what to expect, especially since romantic trips for two had never been something she experienced, nor she knew Theo capable of planning such things because their romance had mostly taken place at Hogwarts. When they made it to France, however, Astoria could say she was left speechless. The villa Theo had acquired for them was located on private land in Nice, just by the border of the sea. It was definitely winter everywhere else, but in that small, secluded area, Weather Charms, reinforced every hour, gave them a summertime paradise (which explained why Theo had insisted for Astoria not to bring any heavy cloaks). The first night they did not leave their bedroom; Theo had set up candles and rose petals everywhere, that Astoria thought it unfair not to reward his attention to detail.

Astoria thought she knew of happiness before Theo came into her life. So many times jewels and pretty dresses landed on her lap, making her spin like an elegant dancer showing off her lithe. She thought she was happy knowing that all that she possessed was remarkable, far more luxurious than anything most girls her age would ever own. She thought she was happy when she escaped British weather and grew golden in Greece, the ocean sparkling like sapphires at her disposal ahead. She thought she was happy to be a Greengrass, a name so influential in their community she could be royalty. None of that was real, though.

Bliss—true bliss—was forming a secret universe underneath satin sheets. All around the quaint walls of a French villa, Astoria and Theo built a world entirely for themselves. No other people existed; nor time, the past, or the future. They gave themselves completely to the present. There, love and happiness were eternal. All they needed to survive was the other's touch.

It was in a moment least expected that Theo told Astoria he loved her for the second time.

Regrettably, after spending the morning at the beach, the hour for their departure had arrived. Astoria was making sure she had all her belongings packed up, including the little trinkets Theo had gifted her, when she noticed that he was observing her intently. His eyes followed every little twitch her body gave, like he was trying to remember the language it spoke. If she were to be honest, it was the first time she ever felt self-conscious. She hardly was the image of a beauty with her long, blonde hair tied up in a messy bun and a face completely free of makeup (she even had a slight sunburn on her nose that made Theo chuckle). Still, he was drinking her in like she was the most exquisite elixir.

'I love you, Tori.' Astoria dropped the velvet box containing a beautiful necklace he had bought her. 'You do know that, right?'

It took her a second to find her voice. 'I do know, Theo. And I love you, too. More than anything.'

She thought she saw a shadow of a frown on his features before he decided to close the distance between them. His arms wrapped around her and she knew what it was like to be home. His eyes looked right into hers and she knew what it was like to see the galaxy up close. By the rhythm of his heart against hers, Astoria knew he felt the same.

'You're the first girl I've ever loved—and I think you'll always be the only one. If I could choose you to spend the rest of my life with, in this one and the next, I would. Over and over again. My heart, Tori, is all yours.'

Astoria buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He held on, too, like she was a lifeline. 'You have me forever.'

X

With the holiday bonus Granger had given her, Astoria managed to purchase decent Christmas gifts for her mother and sister. Although Daphne was extremely vocal about her displeasure of their lack of fortune, their mother had kept grace and not mentioned a word (she hardly spoke to them at all, actually); in hopes to earn a smile from her, Astoria set out to Knockturn Alley to buy back a family heirloom they had lost when their vaults were emptied. The iridescent spodumene gemstone fashioned into a pendant hanging on a thick, rose gold rope had belonged to Ava Greengrass's maiden family, so when she opened the box her youngest child gave her, the blank features on her face pulled to an almost visible pleasure. Astoria gifted Daphne a new black dress from the newest collection of an Italian designer she adored; it cost her more than she had to spend, but seeing Daphne squeal and forget her woes for just a moment gave Astoria another reason to be happy.

The only wrinkle to her bright days was the absence of Theo. After their getaway trip to France he promised they would meet on Christmas Eve, but an owl flew in through her window the night before, carrying a scrap of parchment that said Forgive me, Tori. I love you. She stuffed the note in her pocket and carried with her day, she knew whatever had kept him was urgent and she could not (although most of her wanted) be sewn to his side. She assured herself he would ask to meet her when his matters were resolved, but she never heard from him. The new year had begun and Astoria went back to work, scanning the crowd of Diagon Alley for his dark locks.

It seemed that Astoria was not the only one feeling winter more bitterly than everyone else. Granger was deprived of her usual bright, warm eyes and kind smile. Astoria figured it could not be her return to Hogwarts soon (the Brightest Witch of the Age loved her academia, after all), but by the way Ron Weasley had left Flourish and Blotts with his tail between his legs, looking as if he wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, Astoria realized it was matters of the heart. Granger, too, was a victim of love.

Later that evening, after the quietest work day since the reopening of the bookshop, Astoria had left as she usually did, only to remember she forgot the two new books she had purchased for her mother. Typically, if Granger was in, she would stay another hour after closing to get ahead on work, but when Astoria used the shop's unique version of Alohomora she was assaulted by a string of anguished yells and sobs.

'You should have told me from the beginning!'

'I wanted to, but—'

'But what? I didn't matter enough?'

'It's because you do matter, Hermione! You're important—you have been from the beginning!'

Silence had fallen from inside the backroom for a moment. In the next, Granger was walking out, tears falling down her cheeks like waterfalls. She looked absolutely devastated, it was a mystery how she was standing at all. Through her crying and shouts, Astoria could not tell who Granger had been arguing with until he came after her. Malfoy had been intent on reaching for the Gryffindor, but immediately stopped when they both noticed Astoria.

'Get out!' roared Malfoy. The burning hate in his eyes made Astoria take a step back, pulling her wand out from inside her sleeve when he took a step forward.

Granger grabbed his hand before he could charge. She was red and broken, but in a small voice she whispered, 'No, Draco. You go.'

X

With Granger back at Hogwarts, an employee quitting to pursue a modeling career (Astoria was much nicer than she'd been in previous years, but, really? A model? Unless it was for the picture edition of The Monster Book of Monsters, the girl would starve), and another on temporary relief after falling victim to George's experiments, Astoria felt like she was being pulled in so many directions. She had to open the shop, tend to her duties as usual, head to a meeting with Quick Ink at noon (enduring Flint Sr's arrogance for more than two hours), return to the shop to close when the new employee Floo Called in a panic about such responsibility.

Her head was spinning with exhaustion by the time she apparated outside her flat. She intended to go to her bedroom, strip herself from her restraining clothes, then soak in a relaxing bath with a glass of wine and new book. She assumed Daphne would be working late and her mother would be secluded in her own bedroom as usual, but when Astoria walked into her flat, the last thing she thought she would see was the Grangrasses hosting for the Malfoys.

After what had occurred those days ago with Granger, Astoria did not think she would be running into Draco for a long time, especially since he should have returned to Hogwarts to finish his year. Yet, there he was, on Astoria's worn down sitting room between Narcissa and Lucius.

'Sweetheart,' Ava Greengrass called to her youngest in a honeyed tone Astoria had never heard before. 'We were expecting you earlier.'

She was confused—really, really confused. Not only was her mother glowing, looking like her soul had returned to her body after so many dreadful years, but Daphne was smiling. It was not a condescending grin or mischievous smirk; it was genuine, making her blue eyes glitter with a happiness that expelled out of her like a vibrating aura.

'I'm sorry,' returned Astoria, still glued by the door, 'I didn't know we were having company.'

'We came unannounced,' said Lucius Malfoy, his cold, silver eyes on her, sending a frightened shiver up Astoria's spine. 'The proper thing would have been to Owl, but a matter arose that needed to be discussed immediately with your mother.'

Mrs. Greengrass stood from her seat. 'Our dear friends came to tell us about legal documents they retrieved from the Ministry after they emptied our vaults. Among them was a marriage contract your father and Lucius had created for you and darling Draco.'

Astoria felt her breath leave her lungs in one hit. She stepped away from her mother's excited expression, her back colliding with the door. 'No,' she gasped out. 'No, I—why would you want to him to marry me? I don't...I don't have a fortune to give.'

Although Ava lost her smile to frown at the shameful reminder, Mister Malfoy did not seem bothered by it. 'It is not about gold, Miss Greengrass. It is about Draco marrying a respectable, Pureblood girl. Your father and I did not make this solely as a business arrangement, we made it so our pedigrees would continue as we had grown them. My son is of age, as you soon will be, and his duty is to head the Malfoy family. And for that he needs a wife.'

Sat there, with his hands contracted into fists, his grey eyes forming violent hurricanes, Draco was far from wanting to take over as heir, nonetheless make Astoria his wife. She wanted to point that out to Mister Malfoy, but she could hardly find the words to form. Astoria was too busy trying to stop the ground from shaking beneath her feet.

Her silence was mistaken for acceptance, allowing her mother to laugh heartily. 'It is settled, then. Astoria and Draco shall marry soon. Oh, I cannot believe such joy.' She returned to her seat, grinning wide at Narcissa as if she hoped her thrill would be mirrored off from her, too. Alike her son, Mrs. Malfoy seemed less than pleased. 'Both my girls will marry honorable boys. It is all a mother wants for her daughters.'

'Both?' squeaked Astoria in the midst of her hazy world.

'Father made us both marriage contracts,' Daphne said happily, joining her sister by the door. She grabbed her hands, unaware of Astoria's turmoil, and leaned closer to whisper, 'Our poverty nightmare is over. You'll marry Malfoy and I'm going to marry Nott. Salazar, we can finally leave this shabby shithole and live like the queens we were meant to be.'

X

She didn't know how she made it out alive. Astoria was sure her heart had given out and she had died. It felt like it. It felt like the entire universe had stopped existing; every light had extinguished, all the heat had vanished, all the color had been drained, and all that remained was a freezing, dark abyss that she now called home. If that were true, then why was she standing behind the counter of the bookshop, feeling time stab her in the back as it raced out the door?

'You look terrible,' George said to her as he appeared in front of her, surely called in by one of the employees that was unnerved by Astoria's comatose appearance.

Looking into his kind eyes only made the hurt in her chest bubble over. For days she had been bleeding, desperate to find someone to point out the gaping wound she carried. She could not talk to Daphne—Daphne who could not stop talking about her impending wedding, who had quit Witch Weekly after trashing the editor's office, who repeatedly exclaimed it was the best thing that has ever happened to her—and she had no close friends. Pansy Parkinson had surprisingly attempted to talk to her once, cornering her just outside the shop; she mentioned how sorry she was for her loss, but expected her to get over it with all the galleons soon to be at her disposal. So when George walked in—George who had always been so kind to her, who was coolly sarcastic with biting humor, but owned a fantastic heart—Astoria lowered her walls to let herself cry.

'Greenie!' he gasped, rushing over to her. He pulled her into the back room, away from prying eyes, and Astoria wrapped her arms around his waist. She clung on desperately, afraid that she was going to drown from the pain flooding her body.

It was in that moment, with George cradling her, whispering fruitless reassurances that everything would be okay, that Astoria understood the last message she had received from Theo.

Forgive me. I love you.

Theo had known about the marriage contracts soon coming out from hiding. That was why he had disappeared, that was why he never returned her Owls—he chose to return to the shadows he lived in all for the past two years when the world thought him dead. Alike before, Astoria mourned him again.

Not just that, as Astoria felt like any second she would shatter into a billion pieces, she remembered what she had seen between Granger and Malfoy. The torturous beating of a broken heart inside Astoria's chest was exactly what Granger had felt that night. She had looked exactly what Astoria's reflection was.

Granger, too, had lost the man she loved. She had lost Malfoy to Astoria.

X

June had arrived signaling the start of a new season. With it came the social event of the year: Draco Malfoy's marriage to Astoria Greengrass. The Malfoy Manor had been in construction for three months in order to cater the event; designers, jewelers, planners, and reporters were a constant factor to ensure the wedding would live up to the Malfoy name and the prestigious circle they belonged to. It did not matter that they were labeled Death Eaters by the public (regardless of being pardoned by the Wizengamot); every eye would be on this event. Everyone was involved in making it memorable—all except the bride and groom.

There was no greater agony for Astoria and Draco than to have to be in the same room. Nothing needed to be said when they both had accepted the roles they had to take. Neither wanted to be tied to the other, that was a given, but their upbringing in honoring the duties that fell on them as heirs, as two subjects of ancient, Pureblood laws that stripped them of their rights once born under domineering parents, was not to be argued with.

If there was anything that needed to be said to Astoria, Mister Malfoy delivered it. It was through his demand that she left her position and Flourish and Blotts.

'I understand that I no longer have to work for a salary, Mister Malfoy,' Astoria had begun during a dinner between the Malfoys and the Greengrasses, 'but I have learned to find satisfaction in my employment. I am not ashamed of working at the bookshop.'

'We do admire your capability of providing for yourself while you were left without an inheritance, but a Malfoy mistress would never be subjected to working in a mundane position, nonetheless for someone else,' said Lucius to his future daughter-in-law.

'It's not mundane, sir. I have learned business while under the supervision of Hermione Granger. I owe her nothing but—'

'No relative of mine will submit to a Mudblood!' The background noise of silverware scraping on plates and people chewing had come to an immediate stop when Mister Malfoy stood from his chair at the head of his dining table. Ava and Daphne Greengrass lowered their eyes, incapable of meeting Lucius; Narcissa kept her poise, but pressed her lips into a tight line, while Draco gripped his silver knife and erected it, looking ready to strike.

Inhaling air through clenched teeth, Lucius said, 'You will quit, Miss Greengrass. And you will cease all contact with that girl and her circle. Do you understand me?'

Saying a permanent farewell to George hurt Astoria more than she could ever put to words, but it was something she had to do. She had been instilled with Pureblood laws for far too long to rebel against them. While her own father had been a supremacist and often times strict with his daughters, Astoria knew there was no defying men like Lucius Malfoy. Her family's well-being depended on her becoming what she had been molded to be, an heir's wife. So when she walked into Weasleys Wizard Wheezes a few minutes before closing time, it was no surprise to her that George knew, too, of her predestined fate.

He didn't say anything to her when she walked in. For the past months he had learned to read her silence well enough to know what she wanted to say. He was all too familiar with people who wore their hearts on their sleeves, but Astoria had never been one. To honor that, he outstretched his long arms and invited her in.

Astoria embraced sweet, loveable George long enough to feel like she had crawled into his chest to live right beside his scarred heart.

When she walked in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron to have one last cup of horrendous tea Tom, the landlord, always graciously offered her before apparating home, Astoria stopped before the entrance of Flourish and Blotts. With Hogwarts' school year finished, Astoria was not startled to see Granger in the shadows of her beloved books when she peered in through a window. Nor was it surprising at all to see the candlelight reflect off Draco's famous platinum hair.

It was a week before the Malfoy/Greengrass wedding when Astoria found herself in her soon-to-be husband's presence. Mrs. Greengrass had convinced Mrs. Malfoy to show her the finishing touches on the gardens that would be hosting the prestigious event. Astoria had declined to accompany them and was left alone in the drawing room. She was seated in the corner of the room, tucked into a nook she prayed would swallow her when Draco walked in.

He had not noticed Astoria at first. He was caught up on scanning the room, examining the floors and lavish rug like he hoped to find traces of something. Astoria was sure his mind was far gone into memories she will never know that he would not notice her slink out, but he did.

When 'I owe you an apology' came out of his mouth, Astoria stared back at him in confusion for more time than was appropriate. He looked at the floor once more before meeting her sapphire eyes. 'It's my fault the marriage contract resurfaced.'

'The marriage contract is not your fault,' returned Astoria with a defeated sigh, her back tensed by the cold atmosphere of the room. 'It was decided long before either of us could walk or form sentences, Draco.'

'Yes, but we were apprehended for bribing a Cursebreaker into making the legality of the arrangement disappear. If we had gone with a different method none of this would be happening right now.'

'We?'

'Theo and I,' Draco said frustratedly, hardly noticing that Astoria paled into a sickly color before him. 'We were getting close to breaking the contracts, but Father had me followed when he found that I had been leaving most nights. He was told of my...'

'You and Granger?'

Draco nodded, refusing to look at her. His hands were balled into fists as they usually were, and Astoria now understood his anger. She understood why he hated her when they first stumbled upon each other again; he had known of their arranged marriage and its potential to ruin his relationship with Granger.

'I was going to give everything up for her,' he muttered in tiny whispers that made Astoria take a step closer to him, 'but Lucius tied me to the contract. He threatened her, but Hermione...Hermione isn't scared of anyone. It was not until he threatened you that she stepped back. She loves me, but she would never be responsible for ruining your life.'

An unbearable, throbbing knot formed in Astoria's throat. She had known of Granger's kindness, of course; she had been on the receiving end of her trust and tenderness. In a world that turned its back on people with Astoria's background, Granger had not abandoned her when Astoria most needed it. It was because of her that she and her family had food on their table and a roof over their heads. Still, when it seemed like Granger could not lose more than she had, Pureblood clauses took more from her. There was just no evening out the scores.

'I broke her heart,' he continued, now facing her, his sharp, silver eyes boring in, 'and to ease even a tiny bit of that hurt, I promised her I would be civil to you. She wants us to get on because we will be spending the rest of our lives together and wants us to be content, at the very least, through it.'

X

Astoria was standing alone behind the massive, marbled doors that led to the east gardens of Malfoy Manor. Her hands were cold, trembling as she tugged at the white, embroidered gown clinging onto her body. Though the doors were thick, she could still hear the chatter of the hundred guests on the lawn and the melody of the magicked harps twining together. It was just as loud as her heart beating inside her eardrums. She tried to compose her breathing, but found herself on the brink of hyperventilating. There was no way in Merlin's green earth that she could do this; she could not marry Draco. She did not belong with him. He did not belong with her. The world was wrong.

She backed away from the doors, intent on running away, but her plans to hide under rocks—under the ocean if she had to—so Lucius Malfoy could not find her were thwarted when she collided with someone. Astoria did not have to turn to know that the hands gripping her waist belonged to Theodore Nott.

Her legs gave up on her, causing the strappy, diamond heels on her feet to slide against the polished floor of the hall. Theo sustained her like she weighed nothing for a short second before pushing her back against a wall. He was pressed into her, his alluring eyes trying to devour her entire essence.

Everything inside Astoria wanted to scream at him until his ears bled, everything inside of her wanted to use her fingernails to claw out his eyes, rip out his chest, and feed them to him so he could know exactly what pain felt like (even then, she knew it would never be enough). But her own agony, her own sobbing, shattered heart told her there was no fight left in her. Her marriage to Draco was real—just as real as Theo's marriage to Daphne would soon be. There was no escaping their fate. There was only defeat in her bones. If there was, then she would take whatever seconds of fleeting bliss the universe wanted to grant them.

She put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. So many times in years past their mouths on each other meant a passionate dance led by their tongues, followed by their hungry hands, and pulsating bodies. Kissing Theo always set Astoria on fire, conjuring flames of lust incapable of being put out. She thrived on his need for her. Their kiss, with her pushed against the Malfoys' wall, was not like those times of teenage hormones. It was soft, tender, and beautiful. Astoria felt like he was pouring his heart and soul past her lips, for her to inhale so they could live forever inside of her.

'I love you,' she whispered in his ear after forcing her lips from his.

Theo clung on to her, burying his face into her shoulder, hiding in her cascading blonde hair. For so long Astoria wanted to confront him, to demand an explanation as to why he fled instead of looking her in the eye to tell her of what had fallen on them. She could not forgive him the cowardly act, but she understood why he did so. He couldn't. The pain she felt was eating him up inside, too. She felt the wet evidence of his tears on her skin.

'I wanted to grow old with you,' he murmured into her shoulder blade. 'When the war was over and the Dark Lord had been defeated, all I wanted to do was leave the hole we were hiding in to find you. I survived all that time in the darkness, Tori, because I knew I would look into your eyes and live in the light forever. But when we took back our home I found the contract. I did everything to destroy it, everything. All I wanted was you.'

'The war isn't over for us,' she repeated what he had said to her the first time she saw him again.

Alike Astoria, Theodore had also known they did not get to win. There was no happy ending for those who had been participants of evil. They were born to monsters following the orders of the devil; for that, for all the wrong they had done, for every innocent life that had been taken, they deserved nothing.

It was Astoria's destiny to lose Theo from the beginning.

X

Two months after Astoria became Draco's wife, she had to survive Daphne's marriage to the man she loved. She could hardly stand that morning, but Draco had come in to her room and helped her up. He never spoke as he assisted their house-elf in changing Astoria into her maid of honor dress, but the glimmer in his grey eyes told her he sympathized with her pain. After the longest day of her life, after watching Theo and Daphne apparate from their reception as a bonded unit, Draco took Astoria away for a year. He gifted her time on the other side of the world for her to grieve (at the very least learn to control her misery).

When they returned to Britain it was Draco's turn to grieve. All throughout the Wizardying World cheers of congratulations were heard for the engagement of Hermione Granger to Ron Weasley. There was no newspaper or magazine that did not spend every day for six months tracking the preparations of the impending union of their heroes. Granger's face, so beautiful and warm as it had always been, was plastered on every street with a smile that followed. Astoria wondered how Draco did not go mad. Of course, he was far better at hiding his emotions than she ever could be. It was not until late one evening, when Astoria roamed Malfoy Manor, making lists of what needed to be redecorated, that she heard him destroying his quarters. She did not see Draco for a week after that.

After seven years of learning to tolerate each other through their individual fury and misery, and learning how to navigate as husband and wife, Astoria and Draco decided to have a child. The prying eyes of the world believed them to be a young couple incapable of keeping their hands off each other, but behind closed doors the reality was different. Astoria had rooms of her own, on a different floor, on the opposite end of her husband's. Not once had they consummated their marriage, a choice both had made early on. Their child came to be via in vitro, a Muggle method Draco had poured himself into researching before they discreetly entered the fertility facility to make their family a reality.

When Astoria became pregnant Draco moved them out of Malfoy Manor in order to raise their child in a better, tolerable environment than the one they grew up in.

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was Astoria and Draco's complete source of happiness. It was in his wide, silver eyes where they found the light they desperately needed when the storm outside their windows threatened to drown them in their tormented memories of a life they had craved with others. They made sure to raise their boy with a kinder heart and an open mind, preparing him for a world they wanted him to change for the better. Although Lucius tried to blacken his innocence with bigotry, young Scorpius' heart was too pure to be touched.

Regardless of how they raised their son, Astoria nor Draco could protect him from the prejudices people had of him for who his relatives were. They fretted sending him off to Hogwarts when his time came, but knew there was no other school in all of the Wizardying World they wanted him to attend. His first letters after starting his First Year were short and blunt, giving his parents silent evidence of what difficulties he might have been experiencing. A month after, however, Scorpius told his parents of his friendship with a fellow Slytherin, Al Potter. Astoria had smirked at Draco's face when he read the letter, but nothing beat his reaction when Christmas Eve that year Al Potter Flooed in to drop off Scorpius' gift.

There was nothing Astoria or Draco would deny Scorpius, even when it came to confronting the wounds in their hearts that would never heal.

"She's wrong," Astoria huffed as she followed Draco up the familiar stairs of their old school. "There is no way my son would have gotten into a fist-fight with another student."

"It's McGonagall, Astoria," returned Draco, offering his hand when they reached the final step, "she's never wrong."

Individually, Astoria and Draco had to face their demons time and time again. They could not escape the skeletons in their closets while they still lived. Yet, they had never confronted them together. Until that moment. The Malfoys opened the door to the Headmistress' office to find several haunting faces round up together.

"Mister and Mrs. Malfoy," greeted McGonagall from behind her desk, her eyes narrowing at them for their tardiness.

Astoria's blue eyes flickered to George's face. He smiled wide at her for a second, before turning back to the redhead boy at his side, his son Fred. Next to George was Ginny, who did not notice Astoria as she stood in the middle of her sons James and Al, using both of her hands to pinch their arms.

Behind them, nearest to the door, was Daphne and Theo with their daughter Darcy, a beautiful girl with the Greengrasses cobalt eyes and the Notts' dark curls. Daphne rolled her eyes at her sister, clearly annoyed at being caught in the Headmistress office, while Theo squeezed his fists and kept his gaze ahead (it was how he coped with their fates all these years, by wishing Astoria away).

Scorpius was on the right chair in front of McGonagall's desk, trying to shrink away from the frown he expected his father to be giving him. Draco would have (he will), but for a sliver of time he was caught in the brown eyes of Hermione Weasley. She stood on the left side of the room, where her daughter Rose sat with her arms crossed, haughty and defiant, and Ron holding her hand, possessive as always.

"I called you all here to discuss the barbaric behavior your children have participated in today," said McGonagall. "All six were the culprits of a riot that broke out in the grounds, leaving several students injured."

James Potter chuckled. Ginny pinched him harder, outrage at his audacity. "Oi! We aren't the ones that trampled chubby Goyle and mammoth Flint. If they were fitter they could have outrun the pack of Hippogriffs!"

"Hippogriffs?" cried Daphne, turning to her daughter. "I thought I told you to drop Care of Magical Creatures? I don't want you playing with beasts, Darcy."

Darcy sighed tiredly. "Mum, you don't play with beasts. How daft do you think I am?"

"She can be as dumb as a skrewt, but her beauty makes up for it," murmured Fred dreamily. George snorted loudly.

"Besides, I didn't let the Hippogriffs out. That was Al," finished Darcy.

"It was an accident!" Al defended with a yell, trying to free himself from his mother's clutch. "I was trying to hex Kellan McLaggen and the spell rebounded off the cage!"

"Why were you cursing someone in class, Al?" Ginny demanded.

"He punched Malfoy!" confessed Al.

Astoria took furious strides to the desk. "Someone punched my son and he's the one sat here?"

Scorpius groaned before looking up at his mother. "I punched him first."

Astoria's face was of disbelief, matching Draco's. Before either parent could reprimand their son for his actions, Rose slammed her hands on the Headmistress' desk, forcing all attention on her. The way her brown eyes narrowed in burning righteousness, the way her curls expanded as she seethed (despite their red color), reminded the adults of a young Hermione Granger.

"McLaggen started it. He would not stop pestering me—he hasn't stopped since Fourth Year began."

"Oi!" Ron hissed. "What's he been doing to you, Rosie?" He then turned to his nephews. "You three have been letting some tosser bully your cousin? You're supposed to protect her while she's here!"

"—I don't need protecting, Dad!" bellowed Rose.

"—She doesn't need protecting, Ronald," scolded Hermione.

Before everyone could see Ron cower at the fierce gazes of his wife and daughter, Rose said, "McLaggen has it out for Scorpius and I, Headmistress. So when he knocked my books out of my hand, Scorpius retaliated, but that was only after McLaggen insulted us."

"He even insulted our Gran," contributed Fred. "What's he know about Grandmum Molly? Nothing. It was only fair that Malfoy punch him to defend her honor. His Gran's, too, I guess."

George smacked his son beside the head.

"Miss Weasley, why would Mister McLaggen be targeting yourself and Mister Malfoy?" questioned McGonagall.

Silence fell over the office for a long, tensed second. Then, while Rose and Scorpius exchanged looks, the other students present started snickering.

"I called this year, didn't I?" laughed James. "Greengrass, you and Freds owe me huge. I win this bet."

"Rose?" Hermione called her daughter. "The Headmistress asked you a question. Answer."

Rose looked on the verge of screaming in defeat. However, she took a deep breath, glanced once more at Scorpius, and said, "Scor and I are...together."

Fred and James whistled while Al and Darcy clapped.

"And everyone's been having a field day about it," added Scorpius with a frown.

"No!" shouted Ron, aghast at what he was hearing. "Rosie, you are fourteen! You're not supposed to be—not the Malfoy boy—Hermione! Say something to her! She's gone mad!"

"This matter does not belong in my office," McGonagall said loudly, stopping chaos from breaking out. "I will be dealing with Mister McLaggen, I assure you, but all six of you will also receive detention for today's incident. Fred and James, as Fifth Years and examples to younger students, you will be serving one more week for childish behavior."

James was about to protest with the Headmistress, but Ginny pulled him and Al by the ear and out of the door. George quickly followed after her with his son, asking him for an exact play of what damage the Hippogriffs had caused.

"If anyone cares for my opinion," said Darcy as her mother hurriedly exited, desperate not to be around the madness, "my cousin Scorpius is a great bloke. Yeah, he has the face of a prat, but he really isn't."

"Cheers, Darce," grumbled Scorpius.

Darcy grinned at him before coming up to Astoria. She wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. "I haven't gotten to my mail yet, Auntie Tori, but I'll respond soon. I have a story about a Thestral that will give Mum a heart attack."

As Astoria kissed her niece's forehead tenderly, her eyes locked with Theo's. In those rare seconds when he could not force her out of his head, out of his heart, his entire face lit up with a love that continued to live in her bones, too. So many what-ifs raced through their heads, forcing them to think of all the possible ways they should have ended up together. Every night she dreamt of him, and every day he wished he could hold her in his arms and never let go. Theo would love Astoria forever, that she knew, but his greatest love was Darcy.

"Ronald," Hermione's voice pulled Astoria away from the path Theo had left when he exited the office with his daughter. "Leave her alone. Rose is a teenager. It's perfectly normal for her to be interested in the opposite sex—"

"Rose is not interested in boys. Absolutely not. Her hobbies are Quidditch, theatre, reading, and playing make-believe with Lily."

"Dad!" Rose groaned, covering her pink cheeks with her hands. "Mum, please tell him he has no say in who I date."

Hermione caressed her daughter's cheek, nodding once. That was all Rose needed to settle a frustration that was inherited from her mother, but made lethal by her Weasley side. "Scorpius, sweetheart," Hermione called the uncomfortable Slytherin in the background, "thank you for defending Rose. I do not approve of physical altercations to settle one's anger—"

Draco scoffed, remembering the smack she gave him their Third Year.

Hermione's lip tugged at the corner, but continued with, "nonetheless, it was chivalrous of you. Now, Ron is an overprotective, stubborn man, especially when it comes to his only daughter, but he will come around."

Scorpius glanced at Mister Weasley; his face was just as red as his hair and behind his narrowed gaze he was sure the man was planning his death. Still, it was to be expected. And all he could have hoped for was Mrs. Weasley's understanding. He now knew where Rose got her kind spirit that made him fall to his knees.

"Why don't you two walk Ron and I to the greenhouses? We haven't seen Neville in a few weeks and it would be nice to chat for a bit. If that's okay with you, Minerva?"

The Headmistress nodded once (it was clear who her favorite was).

Hermione then flashed her lovely brown eyes at the Malfoys. "Astoria, Draco," she said in a tone that neither of them had heard in such a long time,"care to join us? Neville makes a great tea with his organic roses."

Just as shocked as Rose and Ron were to Hermione's invitation, Scorpius turned to his parents. A part of him wanted to tell them not to accept, but another part (a greater part of him) that truly adored Rose wanted them to agree and start walking already.

As it were, Astoria nor Draco were in the business of denying Scorpius anything.

Ron took Rose by the hand and was practically yanking her all the way out to the grounds, all to keep her from Scorpius. Hermione, however, kept pace with the new Malfoy heir, asking him questions about his lessons and favorite subjects. Scorpius seemed at ease with her, that, behind him, his parents could hear his enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Astoria whispered to her husband.

"What for?"

"Our son falling for Hermione's daughter. That must not be easy for you."

Draco had to restrain himself from running to Scorpius and Hermione, desperate to just feel her aura beside him again, but settled on keeping his silver gaze on her back. As if she could feel it, she gave a look over her shoulder at them, smiling politely, before returning to her conversation. Astoria could admire her for her strength, but it was only Draco who could see the frayed edges of her gaze. She still loved him. How big that love was, he didn't know, but just as it tortured him most nights, it must pain her, too. Selfish as ever, Draco hoped she continued to hurt for the rest of her days, only that way she kept alive the time when she gave herself to him.

"It was never intended for Hermione to be mine," Draco said. "I wronged her too many times for our story to have ended with us together. But Scorpius is not me. If he truly fancies Rose Weasley then Fate will have written them together. And if he is happy and in love nothing else matters—I don't matter."

"Collected as ever, Draco."

"What about you? The man you love is your brother-in-law. That's not easy, Astoria, but you've held yourself together through Darcy's birth, through every holiday, and every family dinner."

Scorpius turned to his parents, motioning them to hurry as the sunlight fell on them.

"Theo and I found other reasons to live this life," said Astoria in a murmur. "He has Darcy and I have Scorpius. Maybe in another reincarnation we'll find each other again with nothing in our way."