So okay, I have other two multi-chaptered fics to update, but I just can't get this thing of my mind now, so I needed to publish it.
Chapter 1
Draco stood behind his mother, who was weeping before Lucius Malfoy's grave. He gently placed his hand on Narcissa's shaking shoulders and tried to give her words of comfort, but he had none. He intently focused his gaze on the white flowers they placed on his father's tombstone and swallowed the lump on his throat. Lucius was his father after all. But now he was gone. The Death Eater was now consumed by death.
"Cissy?" A gentle voice sounded behind the mother and son. They turned around and saw Andromeda Tonks, Narcissa's older sister. She had this sympathetic look on her face, as if seeing her younger sister in so much pain hurt her as well, or rather, as if she was reluctant to talk to her after so many years of disconnection.
"Andromeda," said Narcissa, daring not to use her sister's old nickname, Dromeda, like the other woman used hers. "What are you doing here?"
Andromeda was thankful that Narcissa's tone was not of contempt, but merely of surprise. She took it as an encouraging sign and carefully took a step forward. "I heard about..." Her eyes darted to Lucius' grave and then back to her sister. "I know how it feels." She managed to say in an even voice, after remembering her own husband's death.
Draco tightened his embrace around his mother's shoulder and slightly bent his head near to her ear. "Mother, I'm leaving," he whispered. Narcissa looked up to his son alarmingly, as he loosened his embrace. "Settle things over." He added and gave Narcissa a soft kiss on the head.
He removed his arm around her and placed both his hands on his pockets as he went away. He took good care to give his estranged aunt an unfathomable and meaningful look before leaving. He even thought he saw Andromeda return his acknowledgement with a hint of an appreciative smile on her kind face. He continued walking away until he was out of earshot. Once he reached the shadows of the trees bordering the cemetery, he glanced back and saw Andromeda already went to Narcissa's side. His mother was shaking her head as tears ran down her pale face; they were holding hands.
Draco turned around a person immediately greeted him with a dull "Hey." He jumped back as his hand flew to the pocket inside his suit to get his wand, but he stopped when he recognized Astoria.
"Did I surprise you?" Astoria said impassively.
"What are you doing here?" Like his mother, his tone was of surprise. "I thought you were—"
"I just came back," she replied. "I just thought of coming to see if you were alright. I asked your house-elf where you were so I knew where to go."
Draco turned his face away. "You don't need to be here."
"I just—" But Draco already Disapparated before she could even finish.
.
Astoria was sitting on the cold floor beside Draco and leaning on his bed behind them. The orange, pink and purple sky reflected a peacefulness which she hoped she would gain. She got tired of looking through the setting sun's rays and at the swirling dust before her. She turned her head for a fraction and looked at Draco instead. His cold grey eyes were fixed on something non-existent before him. These past few days, she hoped not to see that look on him again, but now it was back, and she hated it. Eventually, she got tired of the painful silence inside Draco's bedroom, so she spoke.
"I heard the suspects were captured."
Draco nodded.
"Have you seen them? They're in the papers," she said.
"I don't give a damn about those murderers anymore," Draco replied bitterly. "They can rot in hell. They can escape. Whatever happens to them doesn't do me any good."
"Brings your father's death justice," she suggested meekly.
Astoria watched his eyes turn from severe coldness to a blaze marked by anger. She watched him say words of hate, regret and bitterness. She only watched, and not listened. She felt herself become detached from worldly feelings of unpleasantness, and felt herself want to take him away from it as well. Draco sobbed hard, harder than he ever did before, and Astoria wanted to hold him. She wanted to take the immense pain of guilt and hatred away from him. She needed to stop this, because she knows that he can't do it on his own. And then when he looked at her, with his eyes wet and bloodshot and his face contorted sorrowfully, she was attached to the feelings of unpleasantness again. She felt her chest constrict. Her eyes felt heavy and hot, seeing him defeated and vulnerable like that. She wanted to take him far away from all the pain and hurt. Away with her…
She never thought that everything would turn out to this point, her holding him in her arms as he let out a river of emotions. She never thought she'd feel anything with him.
She never thought of any of those things even from the beginning, that one night when she mustered up the courage to leave her own walled world for a while and try to enter the strong barricades that Draco put up around himself…
.
Draco had a dark past, and he was lost in that darkness. It astounded Astoria how he could even bother to show up at an occasion as festive as a pureblooded wedding, but of course, it was a pureblooded event, so he must've had attended on that sole account, as she knew that the Malfoys' favoured the purity of blood above most things. Or at least, that was what she thought.
Two years after the war, she never cared to go out of her own self and see how people are doing, shaking hands with them, greeting them of good welfare after surviving such a terrible and dark predicament caused by Lord Voldemort, or any sorts of matters concerning seeing people and exchanging stories of triumph and hard times everyone has experienced. No, she did not care at all, not that she cared even before the war. She was so used of being all by herself and not minding others, that everyone thought that Astoria was so full of herself and that she acted better than anybody else, when, in truth, she just doesn't want to find herself relying on what other people think. She didn't want to conform. She didn't want others to see her vulnerable. She wanted to be independent of social mentality and emotions. And she was sure she was doing fine because she knew that not caring would save her own skin from getting hurt or getting fooled. She had these walls where she believed she could be safe in. She believed that those who cared are the most helpless to pain.
That belief was the solitary reason why she was sorted in Slytherin. She was determined and ambitious, not of power, but of freedom, and independence from foolish affairs society has willingly conformed to. She knew how to play her own game, and that was enough. It satisfied her.
But, hold on, don't you dare think that she is as cold-hearted as a snake is cold-blooded. She has a heart; she just didn't know that she was using it at times that she's using it, for she never bothered to know that she had one, so she was unable to deny it.
That cold night in mid-December, she used her heart, unknowingly, but subconsciously willingly. In that night of the wedding reception of her fifth cousin, Winona Max, and Blaise Zabini's older brother, Bartholomew, she found herself looking for a weak spot in the strong barricades Draco Malfoy had. Those barricades were stronger than hers, and she never turned down a challenge, unless she knew it could pain her with a great potential.
Draco was sitting alone in a table, staring at something non-existent which bothered Astoria greatly, for reasons that were unknown and not understandable to her. Maybe it was because she got used to him being so full of confidence, or cockiness for that matter, strutting around in the castle of Hogwarts as if he owned the place, and boasting about his pure lineage and the power his family has. But now, as she stared at this lonesome man, and as she remembered his sudden change some years ago, when he was in sixth year, Draco's look gave her the impression that he owned nothing anymore. The Malfoy's contributed a whole lot to Voldemort's rise to supremacy, and that piece of dirty information circulated around. Astoria learned from hushed voices of gossiping students in Hogwarts that Draco let the Death Eaters in that night when Professor Dumbledore died. Ever since then, Draco pushed himself out of the crowd, where he used to stand out because of his disagreeable attitude. And others pushed themselves away from him. But as for Astoria, she couldn't help herself. She was intrigued by his unfathomable persona.
She finally found someone who was more socially and emotionally guarded than her, which was very peculiar indeed as this person was the same one her older sister admired because, as Daphne said, "He is not afraid to admit his power and his superiority, even if it gained him a few enemies. He made sure that those enemies where checked to be in line." How Astoria rolled her eyes at Daphne's proclamation. But now, of course, like the others, Daphne stopped admiring Draco's display of arrogance, as he met his downfall when his family was caught in a tangle with the Ministry for being a supporter of Voldemort. It was a mystery how they were able to escape imprisonment.
Astoria almost laughed at how ironically her sister would react when she finds out that she was meaning to talk to Draco Malfoy. She could already hear Daphne saying, "Why were you fraternizing with him? He's a bad sort!" Well, Daphne did always treated people similar to trends; either they're in or they're out. The Malfoys were definitely out.
She sat across Draco and blinked at him. When he didn't acknowledge her presence, she cleared her throat and spoke. "Why didn't you eat you cake?"
Draco looked at her with dull eyes and down at the plate of a slice of wedding cake on the table.
"You should taste it," Astoria said when Draco made no reply. "Unless you're allergic to cinnamon."
There was an awkward silence. Well, there was, if you ignored the waltz music being played for the bride, the groom and their visitors dancing in the middle of the ballroom. Astoria rolled her eyes for the lack of enthusiasm and cooperation that Draco brings in their poor conversation. And so, she did something she would've never done in normal occasions, and which her socialite sister would've been proud of her for: she talked about herself.
"I don't blame you for being a sour old milk in this reception after the wedding," she began with a drawl of utmost boredom. "I hate it too. I wouldn't have come if I weren't obliged to. I mean, I really hoped the Headmistress didn't approve my twenty-four-hour leave from Hogwarts. McGonagall said it was only a Saturday that's why it's alright, but I really didn't want to come here. I don't even know why Winona made me one of her bridesmaids because we're not even close. I reckon it's all Daphne's doing."
Astoria felt a little embarrassed and, at the same time, proud of herself; it was the longest thing she ever said to someone who was not of family or of Hogwarts staff. But her listener didn't appear to be interested, and so she figured that the best way to make acquaintances with someone was not by talking a great deal about oneself.
"Why did you come if you don't want to be here?" she asked him seriously. Astoria didn't expect him to answer, although she would really appreciate it if he made some kind of effort regarding social graces, but after a couple of seconds, he replied to her.
"Blaise invited me."
"Oh," she said expressionlessly. "That's…lovely."
"Lovely," Draco muttered.
A waiter from the catering service for the wedding reception approached Astoria with a silver platter containing a bottle of apple cider, a bottle of Firewhiskey, a bottle of wine and long-stemmed glasses. The wizard offered her a glass, but she took the bottle of apple cider instead and beckoned him that he could leave. The waiter went away feeling awkward. Astoria popped the bottle open with her wand and cleared her throat to get Draco's attention.
"You want some?" she said when he turned to her.
He quirked an eyebrow, "And how old are you again?"
"I'm not underage," Astoria protested. "I'm seventeen. And besides, this is just apple cider." She reached for Draco's empty glass beside his plate of cake and poured a considerable amount of apple cider. "Go on, unless you want wine or Firewhiskey?"
" 'S fine," he replied and sipped from his glass, while Astoria took a swig straight from the bottle.
Silence followed as they watched the dancing couples on the middle of the hall. Draco suddenly felt uncomfortable with Astoria's near presence, not that he was comfortable before; all wary eyes and whispered conversations were given to him for the whole duration of the matrimonial ceremony and the reception. Pansy Parkinson caught his eye on the far end of the huge room. She was talking animatedly to Blaise Zabini. Draco remembered that they were his closest companions before the war, aside from Crabbe and Goyle, his cronies. But his relationship with Pansy went downhill already; he forced himself not to reminisce over that story. He wasn't really close now as well with Blaise either. He kept in touch in a minimal account with Draco, but that was all. The closest he got to Draco these past couple of years was only now in the wedding. Draco thought that the reason why Blaise invited him was for the sake of formality, as almost everyone from the Slytherin house (and a few from the other houses) was also invited.
Draco watched the two of his former friends laugh and talk to each other. He came here, hoping that he'll regain his contact with them, but obviously, he was wrong. And now he believed that he will forever remain an outcast, being the son of a Death Eater and being one himself. But that was years ago and Draco hoped that people would get over that.
He hoisted himself up, preparing to leave, while Astoria looked up at him.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Leaving," he replied and left her without another word, not even a back glance.
"You don't like talking much, do you?" Astoria called loud enough so that he could hear her. He blinked at her and prepared to continue his way, but she said before he could even go. "And you don't fancy smiling that much too."
Draco knitted his eyebrows, and almost found himself saying something about her remark, but she cut him off. "Don't worry; I'm going to get a smile from you. Someday." He expected her to smile, but she didn't. She told him that without any expression at all. "Goodnight Draco."
Astoria watched him as he walked towards Blaise Zabini and said something quick to him, probably telling him that he was heading off. They shook hands, Draco nodded, and left the hall without further ado. Blaise and Pansy whispered to each other, their eyes following Draco as he exited. Astoria felt stupid for even socializing with him; he obviously didn't want any socializing himself. She didn't want to socialize with people either; why should Draco be an exception? Astoria leaned back on her chair and crossed her arms.
She was sure it would be the last time she would talk to anyone like Draco Malfoy; his barricades prevented her from going any deeper.
She was definitely sure.
Alrighty. The first two scenes, the one in the cemetery and the one in Draco's bedroom are kinda like the prologue, but it happened after Astoria's seventh year (specifically during her summer). Meanwhile, the wedding reception scene happened just before Astoria's winter break in seventh year, just in case you find my narration suckish and confusing. But I know you're a bunch of smart people, so...okay. I seriously think I over-explicated some stuff here.
Apologies for wrong grammars and spellings.