Chapter I: Ever Since That Day

Light seared Astoria's eyes as her consciousness was greeted with the familiar sensations of headache, dizziness, and nausea. Haziness flooded her vision like dark fingerprints edging the limits of her sight as it fully returned to her. And when it finally did, her heart wrenched in a panic. She knew not where she was.

Based on what she saw above, she could have been inside of a tent. However, upon springing into a sitting position, she realized that she was lying in a bed—a strange bed with silk sheets and a canopy. And as she blinked in her surroundings, her train of thought leaned towards the lines of a palace, and a pleasant but unfamiliar scent threatened to intoxicate her.

"Oh, dear God," she whispered to herself.

"Are you alright?"

"Aaah!" she squealed, startled by the male voice that had approached from behind.

She tightly clutched the covers to her chest as she dared to eye her apprehender. When she did, she gasped, thinking for a moment that she may have died.

White hair. Alabaster skin. Silvery eyes. Slender features. An angel!

But that was only for a moment. The moment before she remembered where she had been before awakening and finding herself in the all-too-present predicament.

She was at the New Year's Eve party at Malfoy Manor. She had not wanted to go, but her parents finally managed to drag her along. She had resented every moment that she had spent silently pouting on the velvety sofa, her ears assaulted by all the high-standing purebloods voicing their concerns about the future. Her parents did not even want her there for her presence. The fact was that she was an embarrassment to the family name for, since the beginning of her sixth year at Hogwarts, she had built herself quite a reputation for being a thorn in the side of Slytherin house. If she had not come along, she would have only drawn more negative attention to herself, as any respectable pureblood would have been crazy to deny an invitation to Malfoy Manor.

Abashed by her own mental presumptions, she focused her attention downwards, stopping to take in the ring on one of the young man's slender fingers. The symbol of the emerald-eyed serpent. A member of Slytherin house, just like herself. No, the young man was most-definitely not an angel. But who was he?

"Am I okay?" Astoria finally responded. "Am I OKAY? I don't know. How about you start by telling me who you are and what I am doing in this bedroom!"

The young man's expression suddenly appeared as though she had just stricken him across the face. Astoria slipped out from beneath the covers before him and commenced the task of furiously smoothing out the skirts of her disheveled gown.

"Well," he began, watching her with intense curiosity, "you had a nasty fall downstairs. I don't know exactly what was going on, but it appears you blacked out. I brought you up here where there is less noise."

Astoria nodded and sighed with relief as she straightened herself.

Suddenly, she felt quite ashamed.

"Thank you," she said apologetically.

"No problem," the young man responded, sounding as though he had accepted the unspoken apology.

Astoria remained standing as he sat down on the edge of the bed, both struggling to avoid eye contact.

"Well," Astoria finally broke into the silence, "I don't want to make you feel obligated to stay here, so I'm going back downstairs."

"Alright, but I'm probably just going to stay here regardless—at least for a while. Crowds really aren't my thing," the young man replied, still not meeting her gaze.

Astoria cocked her head.

"Really? I don't . . . care much for crowds either."

Grey met brown as they locked eyes, trying as they might to figure the other out.

"In fact," Astoria continued, taking the spot on the bed next to the young man, "I didn't even want to come here tonight. My parents wanted me to come. And, as I didn't have any other plans, I finally obliged."

The young man smiled, staring dreamily at the wall.

"I completely understand," he agreed. "People can be so difficult to trust—especially the types of people who come to events like this."

"Exactly! Even my parents. They're just trying to save face, as my muggle-friendly beliefs have become quite the mark upon my family's reputation."

It didn't take long for her to recognize her mistake.

"Umm—I mean—I'm sorry. I should probably leave," she said as she started for the door.

"Why?"

Astoria turned around. The young man was still staring at the wall. She could hardly read his expression but was perplexed by his lack of apparent disdain.

"Well, it was stupid of me to assume that you would agree with me."

"Did you?" the young man replied. "Truth be told, I could care less, but that's no reason for you to feel like you have to leave."

Astoria smiled shyly. Relieved, she slid easily back into her spot on the bed.

"So, if I'm staying in your company," she started, "I might as well give you my name. It's Astoria—Astoria Greengrass."

The young man studied her.

"Daphne's sister?"

"Yes."

"Hmm . . . You don't look anything alike."

It was true. Astoria and her sister had very little in common, save their surname . . . and their parents, of course. Daphne was tall and blonde with sea blue eyes, while Astoria was shorter and slighter with thick brown hair and dark brown eyes. Daphne's face was more plain and oval shaped with a long, pale nose, while Astoria had a far more pronounced chin, delicately topped with pert, mulberry lips.

Astoria chuckled, "Actually, I get that a lot."

The young man nodded, not knowing what he should say next, and cursing himself for it.

Damn it! What's wrong with you? It's not like you've never spoken to a woman before. And you haven't scared this one off yet. Who knows? She just might like you.

"Well," Astoria broke into the silence, "aren't you going to tell me your name?"

The young man sighed audibly, and, for a moment, he appeared as though he may just evade the question.

"It's Draco," he finally revealed as though his name were a possession to be rid of, "Draco Malfoy."

Astoria's eyes widened.

Of course, he's a Malfoy, Stupid! Just look at him!

"You've probably heard a lot about me," he continued. "I will admit that a lot of it is true. However, a lot of it is complete bullshit. If I make you uncomfortable, feel free to leave. I won't blame you if you do."

Astoria noted a sudden sadness in the grey eyes that met hers. And yet, she couldn't help but take note of their softness—so like goose down.

Instead of leaving, she spoke, "You are a lot different than I thought you would be."

Draco's ears perked at the intriguing prospect.

"Really? How different?"

"I don't know," she nervously chuckled. "Just different. I mean, I never thought I would find myself sitting on your bed and completely unharmed."

Again, Astoria noticed her mistake immediately after her words left her tongue.

"Oh no—" she struggled to explain to Draco, who had fallen back into a fit of laughter. "I didn't mean it that way!"

Frozen in her own embarrassment, Astoria simply watched Draco roil in laughter. Soon, however, the situation became so absurd that she found herself following suit.

"You know," Draco released with his first caught breath, "this is the first time I have laughed in quite a while."

Astoria turned her head on the mattress to find the grey eyes glowing in a way that grey eyes should not have been able to glow. The sight was so glorious, she was sure her heart had become a candle and the glow she was seeing was but a reflection of that light.

"That's terrible," she voiced at barely more than a whisper.

"Not so terrible," came to her surprise. "I think it's made me appreciate just how good it feels to laugh."

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The two leapt to the floor, startled. Out the balcony windows, they saw the reason for their momentary distress.

"Do you want to see the fireworks?" Draco offered.

Astoria nodded with a smile as he led her out the doors to the balcony.

They were greeted by the chill of the bitter winter as wondrous shapes formed overhead. Dragons flew gracefully on atomic orange wings. Broomsticks with no pilots whizzed joyfully by. "Happy New Year! 2000" sizzled in caustic green.

"Well, I guess it's not 1999 anymore," Astoria mused.

"I suppose you're right," Draco returned.

He jumped, noticing Astoria's hand meeting his on the railing. The two turned to stare at each other, the show from above dancing on their faces.

"I suppose you'll want to go find your boyfriend now."

Astoria shook her head.

"No. I don't have a boyfriend."

They continued staring at each other as more pops, fizzes, and bursts of light rose into the wintry sky. White vapor wafted from their nostrils and flitted into the atmosphere.

Draco thought about leaning in and surprising the beauty before him. Had he more courage, he probably would have. Her lips looked so ripe—so delicious! And her eyes were so pleading. Nonetheless, he found himself uncharacteristically nervous.

"Umm . . . er . . . Since we don't have anyone to kiss right now, we could—we could—"

Right then, he mistook another soaring light as an explosion in his chest, for that woman had wrapped her arms around his waist. As though it were the most natural thing in the world, he pulled her tighter, her cheek pressed against his chest. He could no longer hear the fireworks, and he did not care. For all he knew, he could have gone deaf within the previous few minutes.

Warmth filled Astoria, starting with her nostrils, as she discovered the source of the wonderful, unfamiliar scent.

Author note: I know I said that I was taking a hiatus from writing fanfiction, but I just can't help it. Also, in case you do not recognize the title, it is the same as a song from my favourite anime, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. This is not exactly a songfic, but I am using the song to help guide me as I write these chapters, especially as I feel it the song was somehow written for Draco.

Also, in case you saw this story previously posted, you are not experiencing deja vu. I made the mistake of posting before it was ready. Though I reserve the right to edit/revise at any time, I believe this chapter is readable as is.