Guess who's back, and with a fake dating AU no less...

"I'm sure you've been enjoying the French coast," Narcissa Malfoy said, taking a small sip from the wine glass balanced delicately in her fingers.

"Very much so," Astoria said, taking a slightly larger sip from her own glass. The formal get-together at Malfoy mansion had only started a few minutes ago, but the young woman was already bored out of her mind. "Daphne finds it rather peaceful, and my mother loves it as well."

"Why did you move there, anyway? I was always under the impression that the Greengrass mansion wasn't too expensive to uphold."

It was a veiled act of aggression - implying that the modest Greengrass mansion was not affordable - and Astoria treated it as such. "Oh, no," she said, waving her hand airily. "It was well within our means. We just wanted a house in a better neighborhood, away from all the Wizarding drama."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "Ophelia always has been great at dodging crises. It's part of her flighty nature, of course."

"Of course," Astoria said. "Hunkering down and subjecting oneself to undue stress never does quite pay off, does it? Though you seem to have done pretty well, considering." She let herself smile just enough for her message to become clear: no passive-aggressive insults would work on her. At least, not now.

The older woman took another sip from her glass and changed the subject quickly, her eyes never completely leaving her companion's face during the time it took for hors d'œuvres to be passed out. It was only when the conversation veered back into dangerous territory - Astoria and Daphne's relationship status - that the young woman went on guard again.

"It really is a shame, you know," Narcissa said, with a face that suggested she thought it was anything but. Their conversation had been joined by Lucius Malfoy and Rue Nott, a stocky woman whose son, Theo, Astoria hated with a passion. The two adults listened with bated breath as Narcissa took another sip of wine (her glass had been refilled twice already, and it was only an hour in) and continued, "two girls — lovely, in an unconventional way, if you don't mind me saying — with adequate financials and connections — not a large amount of either, mind you, but enough — and yet they remain unmarried, unsolicited! If you don't mind me saying," she said, with a glance at Astoria that once again showed she didn't care what Astoria thought about her little monologue, "there must be something wrong… hard to tell, hard to tell, but I find that most faults in children can usually be traced back to the parenting… and what with William out of the picture, I must sorrily conclude that the fault lies within Ophelia."

"Must you?" Astoria asked through clenched teeth.

Narcissa gave her an appraising glance. "I must," she said, sounding not the least bit regretful. "And — again, if you don't mind me saying, Astoria dear — I might be able to help. You see, Lucius has often feuded with one of his co-workers at the Ministry… this co-worker is quite a disaster, and almost poor, but no matter… he has plenty of children, and one of them is two years older than you. You must remember him from your Hogwarts days - Ron Weasley?"

Rue burst into fits of laughter, and Lucius smirked. Narcissa looked rather pleased with herself. "Well, dear?"

"The Weasleys are quite revered these days," Astoria said, pretending to consider it. "They're famous, you know… not so poor anymore, I'd be surprised if they didn't have more money then you… and, after all, they did save the Wizarding world from Voldemort. Of course, in doing so, they ruined your prospects and reputation, so I'm surprised you'd want to further their status even more by suggesting the match." She tapped her wine glass, an idea occurring to her. She knew just what would set Narcissa really off, and she didn't care about the consequences. "All in all, I'd love to consider it, if I weren't so infatuated with your son."

Narcissa's wine glass fell to the floor, shattering immediately.

Astoria stood in the powder room, feeling rather pleased with herself. She'd been able to feel the party imploding around her after she'd said those words and excused herself, and the thrill was unmatchable. The older Malfoys had been the bane of her existence for awhile now, and she could hardly believe she'd managed to pull it off. Narcissa would be furious at the fact that her son would stoop so low as to get involved with a Greengrass.

She let herself laugh. To anyone waiting outside, she probably sounded insane (and maybe she was a little insane, but that's beside the point) but it was therapeutic. After the week she'd had, and the diagnosis she'd received…

Well, it was safe to say that she no longer cared about her reputation. Or marriage. Or financials. She would not be reaching the age of fifty, so why bother with any of it? Why bother what Narcissa Malfoy thought?

She decided it was time to rejoin the party. After all, it would be fun to watch Narcissa's attempts at salvaging the night. She stepped back into the entrance hall and was immediately accosted by Rose Parkinson, her pug-like face the same as her daughter's.

"Is it true?" she demanded, blocking Astoria from walking any further.

The younger woman feigned innocence. "What's true?"

Rose sneered. "That you are dating Draco Malfoy."

Astoria laughed. "Of course it is. Why would I lie?" She considered throwing in some eyelash-batting for good measure, but ultimately refrained - after all, that might be taking it a little too far.

The other woman's lip curled. "Well, you should know that you won't last five days with him. My Pansy's been all over him since September, so whatever game you're playing -"

"What game?" a new voice asked. To Astoria's horror, Draco Malfoy himself was standing next to her. When he caught her terrified expression, he smirked slightly. Then, as naturally as one could be, he draped an arm across her shoulders.

Ms. Parkinson looked outraged.

"What game?" Astoria repeated, her tone the epitome of polite condescension. The mother stormed off, shaking her head and muttering.

Before Astoria could say anything to her 'boyfriend', Narcissa approached, saying, "Draco, dear, how nice to see you."

"The same to you, mother," he replied, taking a wine glass from a nearby tray.

The older woman looked at the both of them, her eyes searching for something off. Astoria guessed that she hadn't found anything, for she refocused her gaze on her son and said, "Well, I can't say that this was expected."

Draco shot a look at Astoria — something along the lines of You owe me — before responding, "True love never is, Mother."

"Of course." She turned to Astoria. "Astoria dear, I must apologize for our earlier conversation. I think you'll agree when I say it got a bit out of hand."

"Apology accepted," the other woman replied. She knew that Narcissa must've been expecting her to apologize as well, but she didn't. Smirking slightly, she turned so she was facing her 'boyfriend' and whispered into his ear, "Arms around my waist. We aren't best mates, we're in love."

He laughed — Narcissa looked scandalized — and moved his arm to her waist. She turned back to his mother, who cleared her throat and said, "And when did you start…"

"Dating?" Astoria supplied helpfully.

The older woman winced. "Yes, that."

Astoria turned to Draco again. He cocked an eyebrow at her. She fiddled with his tie a bit, then said, "Well, it must've been six weeks ago." He nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right."

"I didn't get to see him much at school, you know, but he did have quite a crush on me."

"I did?" Draco asked.

"Yes, you did," Astoria said through gritted teeth, giving his tie a discreet yank.

He cleared his throat. "Right, I remember now. I was very, ah, charmed by her."

"How wonderful," Narcissa said. "Well, if you'll excuse me… I think Lucius would like to see this…"

And so the evening truly began.

Hours later, after explaining the nature of their relationship to every nosy partygoer, Draco pulled Astoria into the gardens. They wandered in silence for awhile — Astoria noticed that her companion had not removed his arm from her waist (but she didn't mind much) before sitting down at the edge of a fountain a ways away from the main event.

"Right," Draco said, letting his arm drop from her waist. "So what stunt have you pulled this time, Astoria?" His voice had changed dramatically - no longer was it the lovesick one he'd been using non-stop inside; rather, it was a mixture between annoyance and confusion.

"Do you know how awful your mother is?" Astoria asked, standing up and beginning to pace. He watched her cross the area in front of the fountain, his eyes never leaving her frame.

"I think she has some nice qualities," he said. "She is my mother."

"Well, sorry. Your mum's a psychopath."

"I like her."

"We all know you're a psychopath too, so I'll have to take your opinion with a grain of salt."

His eyes narrowed, and Astoria realized she might've gone a little too far. "I'm doing you a favor, you know," he said pointedly.

"I'm aware. And I'm sorry. That was out of line."

"So why are you doing this, again?"

"Your mother was delicately suggesting that the reason I don't have any suitors is because my mother doesn't love me enough."

"Okay," he said, though his tone remained disbelieving.

"When I say it aloud, it does sound a bit stupid," Astoria said, biting her lip.

"So what did you say?"

"I'd love to date Ron Weasley" — here Draco broke into fits of laughter, and Astoria waited for them to subside before continuing — "if I weren't so infatuated with you." His laughter returned full-force, and this time, Astoria found herself laughing too. It had been a wonderful prank — probably the height of her mischief-making career.

A career that suddenly had less time to grow than she thought. The realization sobered her up quite quickly, and when she stopped laughing, he stopped laughing, too.

"So what's wrong with you?" he asked.

"Nothing," Astoria said, trying to plaster on a smile and not completely succeeding. "Just tired is all."

"Bullshit." He stood up and walked towards her. "I don't know what's going on in your life, Astoria, but whatever it is, you owe me."

"You might want to sit down."

He remained standing. "Try me."

She sat. "I have a blood curse."

Ever since she'd received the diagnosis, Astoria had categorized the way people reacted to it. Some, like her mother, immediately fussed with her. Others, like Pansy, contorted their faces into looks of pity. Others still offered their condolences and never touched upon the subject again. Daphne had fallen into the latter category — though she sometimes asked how Astoria's "condition" was progressing, most of the time she ignored all signs of the illness that was slowly seeping away at her sister.

Draco's reaction did not fall into any of these categories. He stood stock-still for a moment, his jaw set in a way that Astoria found undeniably attractive, despite the circumstances. Then, he muttered, "Well, that explains it."

"Explains what?"

He started pacing back and forth, covering the same stretch of manicured grass multiple times. "Your carelessness and lack of propriety. The sudden move to France. Daphne postponing her wedding."

"You knew about that?" Astoria asked, surprised. Only immediate friends and family had known about Daphne's engagement to Blaise Zabini, and the alteration of their wedding plans — it was going to be the night of the diagnosis before the possibility of a blood curse had been discovered.

Draco stopped pacing for a moment, and said, in a way that implied the answer to the question should've been obvious, "Blaise is my best mate."

"Right," Astoria said, dim memories featuring the two at Hogwarts surfacing. "What else?"

"Your mother, accompanying you everywhere. I saw you two at Diagon Alley last week, you know. She was hovering. "

"She does that, yes." Astoria paused. "And how do you know about all of this?"

Again, he rolled his eyes, as if the answer was obvious. "I'm very observant."

"Always full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Always," he said, smiling in a way that didn't quite reach his eyes. He sat down next to Astoria again, and for a second, with his head bowed and his arms splayed in no particular formation, he seemed very, very young — certainly not twenty-one, the heir to the Malfoy household. Astoria's heart broke a little as she watched him, slumped in on himself like an overly-used rag doll.

As if he sensed her pity, he straightened up again, some remnants of who he'd been at the start of their conversation reappearing. "Want to know another surprise?"

"Sure," Astoria said, searching his face.

He leaned a little closer to her, eyes never leaving hers. "I'm not all that bothered that you chose me as your fake boyfriend."

"And why would that be?" Astoria breathed, noticing for the first time that his eyes were slate grey.

He was about to reply when the sound of voices floated through the night air. He cursed, stood up, and offered her a hand. She took it reluctantly and stood up herself.

"What's our excuse?" he asked, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his slacks.

"Our excuse?" The voices were closer now, and Astoria thought she could make out Narcissa's high whine and Lucius's slow drawl within them.

"For being out here."

"Oh," Astoria said. "I don't know."

A slow smile started to spread across Draco's features. "How much do you want to piss my parents off?"

"Enough to never step foot in this manor again," Astoria replied. "What have you got in mind?"

"Just follow my lead," Draco said, rapidly closing the distance between them. Astoria saw shadows from around the corner of one of the hedges in the maze, and, just before Lucius, Narcissa, and company turned the corner, Draco's mouth was on hers.

She made a surprised sort of squeak at first, but then, when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed himself into her more, she caught on and reciprocated, hoping that the sound of surprise she'd made could be mistaken for something a little more explicit. She had to admit that his body felt nice up against hers, and that there could certainly be worse things she could be doing than kissing him, even if their relationship was fake. Still, the reality that they were not, in fact, dating in real life was hard to remember when he was touching her like that. In fact, as he started using his tongue in ways that made her skin burn, she almost forgot that the older generation of distinguished purebloods was standing but a few feet away.

"Draco!" Narcissa said after a few moments that Astoria imagined were filled with shock and revulsion (that was what her tone suggested, anyway).

Draco pulled away slowly, winking at Astoria before turning to face the others. His hand remained splayed across her lower back, which was making it hard to concentrate (also making it hard to concentrate was the fact that he had a bit of her lipstick on the upper right corner of his lip, and — well, she was starting to see why almost every Slytherin girl in her year, and the two years above, had been willing to murder for him back in his Hogwarts days). "Yes, Mother?" he asked, so casual, Astoria swore she'd never seen him like this before…

It was Lucius who spoke, then, eyes shifting from his son to her and back again, "So it is true."

"Of course our relationship is, Father," Draco replied. "Why would we lie?"

"That seems to be the question," Rose Parkinson snapped from her spot slightly behind the older Malfoys. "But we owled Ophelia, and she seems to be unaware of the status of your relationship."

Draco's hold on Astoria tightened slightly, but she laughed. "Oh, please. You know how forgetful my mother can be."

Lucius's eyes narrowed, but before he could reply, his wife stepped forward, voice wavering.

"Draco," Narcissa said, focusing her attention solely on her son. "Please, dear, you should know better. There's something she's not telling you … she is not fit to be your wife…"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, eyes narrowing in a way that was eerily reminiscent of his father.

His mother glanced nervously at Astoria before continuing in a slightly lower voice, "She is sickly. She will not be able to produce an heir to the Malfoy line, nor will she be able to survive the next twenty years."

Astoria's breath hitched, heart pounding. She had already come to terms with the reality of everything that Narcissa had just said, but to hear it aloud, and with such a lack of empathy… It was almost too much.

Draco's arm dropped from her waist, and she could no longer read him. For a moment, he stared at his mother, jaw set. Then, he cleared his throat. "How dare you," he said, voice lower and laced with something that sounded like anger, "how dare you tell me who to love? How dare you assume that I don't know about her sickness, that, if I did, I would have run away by now? I love Astoria, and I know about her curse, and I don't care one bit about 'continuing the Malfoy line' or whatever bullshit just came out of your mouth. The world's better off if there are less people like us, and you should be thankful that Astoria agreed to date me, knowing how tainted and terrible our family is."

No one spoke. Narcissa seemed to cave in on herself, and Astoria could not recognize the woman who had greeted her at the door only a few hours earlier as the same one standing before her now. Rose appeared to be in a similar state of shock, but there was a hint of glee in her expression, her delight that she'd been able to witness the dissolution of the Malfoy family herself evident. Lucius was the only person still staring at his son, and, as Astoria watched, Draco stared back until his father's eyes dropped to the ground.

"We're leaving," he said, words floating into the night and hanging there.

With that, he took her hand and pulled her away.

It was too much to handle. The lie had spiraled far beyond her control, led her to being in this insane and utterly absurd moment, where Draco Malfoy was pulling her by hand away from his parents after having just screamed at them on her behalf.

She started to cry. He stopped walking immediately and turned to face her. It was the first time he'd looked her in the eye since Narcissa had spoken. They had stopped in the middle of one of the hedge passages, having walked far enough that the worried voices of his parents and Rose Parkinson were not longer audible.

"I'm sorry," she said, rapidly blinking away tears. "I'm so, so, sorry, Draco, I was so stupid and petty and it all got out of hand, and now you did that, and I'm —"

"It's fine, Astoria," he said, but something about it didn't entirely ring true. "I could've brushed you off. I didn't. I — I'm just as responsible for this as you are."

"But… they're your parents."

"But now I know what you meant when you said that my mother was awful. Regardless of our, ah, relationship" —he gestured to their hands, still linked — "I would've stood up for you anyway. Just because you're cursed doesn't mean… doesn't mean you don't deserve the world." The last part was said in a whisper, like he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. Astoria knew what he was feeling.

"Girls used to die for you, you know," she said, unable to think of anything else.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Literally?"

"No. But they — you were all I heard about until you graduated, when it came to my friends' crushes."

He smirked. "I was quite popular at Hogwarts. Before… everything."

"I never understood it," Astoria continued, still unsure as to why she was telling him this. "Fine, you were moderately attractive —"

"Moderately?" he asked.

"Don't get cocky," she warned, brushing away the wetness on her cheeks.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"As I was saying, you were moderately attractive, but you were so mean."

He looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. "Yeah?"

"You've changed."

"Not enough."

"It's a start," she argued.

"I'm still awful. You saw me with my parents."

"They deserved it."

His gaze snapped back to hers. "I guess they did."

"You've got a little lipstick there," she said quietly, eyes catching the spot from before.

"Is that so?" His hand went to the wrong side of his mouth.

"No, it's — it's on the other side."

He rubbed it off and cleared his throat. The shadow from the hedges cast interesting patterns on his face. "Astoria, I —"

"It's okay," Astoria said, cutting him off before he could reject her. "You can say we broke up. Make me look terrible as much as you want for them to believe it."

"That's not what I was going to say."

"Oh."

"I'm glad that you pinned this whole fake relationship on me. And I'm glad that I got to yell at my mother as a result of it. You have nothing to feel sorry for."

"Well, I did want to get kicked out of the Manor," Astoria muttered.

He corner of his mouth quirked up. "You've most definitely succeeded."

"Great. I just feel bad for you. You have to live here."

He closed his eyes and exhaled. "I could kiss you. For saying that."

"You could," she said, causing him to reopen his eyes in surprise. "If you wanted to."

He tugged her closer, let go of her hand in favor of putting his on her waist. "Yeah?" he whispered, eyes searching hers.

"Yeah."

"Might have to take you up on that offer."

She rolled her eyes. "Just kiss me, Draco."

He did.

It was only when the kisses turned from sweet and slow into something else that they stopped.

"Go out with me, Astoria?" Draco murmured, close enough that their breaths mixed.

"But what about —"

"I don't care," he said. "I don't. I want you."

Astoria sucked in a breath. "Then, yes. To your question, I mean. I'll go out with you."

"Good. Now that that's settled..." he brushed his lips against hers. "What do you say we get out of here?"

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