In the magical world, there are few rules and guidelines that must be followed, because of the nature of magic. Every action has a reaction, what Muggles referred to as, "the butterfly effect." It was a known certainty, like knowing that you cannot transfigure something that is not already in existence.
One of the most important rules of all, though, is that you cannot bind most magics with steel.
It was why nothing in the magical world was made with steel; not one potion required the metal, not one item was made from it, and not one store sold it. The combined properties of the metal were volatile enough on their own when placed in the magical world.
To use them in direct connection with magic was bordering on madness, if not suicidal.
That was how Draco Malfoy felt when looking at Astoria Greengrass.
It had simply started out as a childish animosity; back when things in life had been much simpler, their relationship was that of petty school children. They hadn't yet learned how to be truly nasty, just simply how to tease and prank and humiliate.
Soon enough, however, that relationship shifted into true hatred. Neither party could stand in the same room with one another without heartily wanting to hex the living daylights out of each other. They had both served many detentions together, mainly because they were content to hate each other with a passion comparable only to the burning heat of the sun.
Draco was as unmoving as an iron wall and just as cold. Controlling in every aspect, he demanded the respect that he felt was his due, reigning from on high as a sort of dictator. To have any sort of disorganization in their life was not tolerated. When someone dared to defy hi it meant total, cold, and unrepentant rage; beyond that, however, his emotions were never truly visible, just a passing flicker of what truly lay beneath.
Astoria, on the other hand, had never been bound the way the other had, always free to do as she wished and never giving a damn about what sort of consequences might occur from her actions. It never mattered to her what was right or wrong, and organization was the furthest thing from her mind. She was as free and whimsical as the wind: kind and gentle one minute, raging like a summer storm the next.
When they parted ways, Astoria and Draco were content enough to keep it that way. They hated each other, pure and simple—they never had liked each other, and they never would.
All it took was a chance encounter, years after they had parted ways, to change their perspectives.
…To this day they both agree that they had no idea how such an intense hatred had resulted in such a deep and passionate bond that they found they could not break.
Astoria was the magic of the relationship, beautiful and yet dangerous if mishandled. Draco was the cold and unyielding steel, that one metal that could not be found most anywhere in the wizarding world.
They said it was bordering on madness, even suicidal, to cross steel with magic.
They were both willing to test that theory.
So, there's finally something from me. To all my faithful readers, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Operation Werewolf. I have very severe writer's block with that story. so I haven't been able to write ANYTHING lately. :( But I swear, I am trying.
Hugs and kisses,
Valk