Always Greener

Chapter 01


I think the earliest memory I have is of my fourth birthday party. It was a lavish affair, complete with a pink cake five tiers high, a tailored dress so itchy I almost wanted to cry, and presents. Mounds of them. I ate cake until I could burst and reveled in the clothes, books, and toys my parents had bought for me. The itchy dress hardly mattered, I was so happy.

My parents—Virgil and Theia Greengrass—stood laughing at my side, beaming at their youngest daughter's antics. Mother's golden-brown hair lay piled on her head, and the deep purple gown she wore complemented her bright blue eyes, making them sparkle. Father's impeccable suit was of the finest cut and cloth—although I could not tell the difference between coarse wool and satin at that point in my life—and his Greengrass eyes glittered with satisfaction.

My sister, Daphne, was less than satisfied. She had inherited our mother's blue eyes while I had inherited our family's famed emerald ones, and as she watched me receive attention from our parents her face turned scarlet with rage.

Father, sensing trouble brewing, had come prepared. Slipping away from my mother and me, he removed a long, flat box from the inside of his coat, knelt before Daphne, and presented it to her with a flourish.

Daphne's foul mood evaporated. She tore open the parcel and squealed when she saw the necklace of green stones set in gold, then threw her arms around our father's neck. He patted her auburn curls, so unlike his own, and kissed her cheek before returning to me.

He didn't think I noticed, but I did.


Daphne and I have never gotten along—or should I say that Daphne has never gotten along with me? She reduces everything we do to a competition, even my birthday party.

But I suppose that is to be expected in a family such as ours. We are Pure Bloods, an antique line of them stemming from ancient Greece. The Greengrass family was named for its famously green eyes, eyes which have survived the generations to reach me. My father is a Greengrass, eyes and all, and I take after him completely, but our mother married into the family and Daphne takes after her. She and Mother are the odd-balls on the Greengrass family, the only blue-eyed, bright haired people of our entirely green eyed, dark haired clan (for father was the first Greengrass to not marry a cousin in years). From infancy I was hailed as my father's 'true heir' based solely on the color of my eyes and hair, and I don't think Daphne has ever forgiven me for inadvertently pushing her out of the limelight.

She dislikes me, but I've never felt much for her at all, really—not even mild aversion. Just an empty complacency, of sorts, for as I am our father's favorite so Daphne is our mother's. There is balance there, although I still long to be as close to Mother as Daphne is to her, and Daphne wishes to be Father's pet.

I suppose I am the son Father never had. We go riding every day, and hunting on many others. He taught me chess when I was very young, and he and I have always been readers. We enjoy solitary pursuits, academics and logic. Mother and Daphne sew and play the piano and go to parties.

As much as I long for Mother's company, I doubt I could stand their hobbies even if I tried.


During my childhood, my day typically started in the early morning. A servant woke and dressed me, and I was escorted downstairs to the breakfast table where my father read the Daily Prophet and drank strong coffee. A few teaspoons of the dark stuff were poured into my glass of milk to make me feel more grown up, and Father would smile at me over his paper as I ate a bowl of oatmeal and the fruits of the season. I rarely ate meat.

When I finished my meal, Father would signal the butler to bring a chessboard. The pieces were fashioned of carved jade and precious stones, and they moved with utter grace. I could never beat Father, and I never suspected that he wasn't trying to win.

By the time our game ended, my pony and his Arabian black were saddled and waiting by our manor house's front door. We would parade out, him in his riding leathers and me in my suede riding dress, and ride over the grounds until lunch.

Our usual destination was a place simply called 'The Hill,' and its name denotes exactly what it was. A bare hump rising from the forest that grew on our land, The Hill afforded us a view of all of the estate. The manor looked like a child's toy from the top.

"Astoria," Father said to me on many occasions as he looked out over his property with pride, "someday, you will own this place. It is your birthright."

Shortly after that, we would ride back for lunch. Father would then disappear into his study, and I would be left in the care of one nursemaid or another unless Mother and Daphne were actually home. They spent their days making social calls on family friends and rarely came home before my bed time.

Father would reappear around dinner time, and we would spend our remaining hours together reading or playing chess. Then it was off to bed with me, and as the nurse extinguished the lamps my mother would come breezing into my room with a sweet-scented kiss. Daphne always stood in the doorway, glaring at me while Mother's back was turned, and would then vanish into her own bedroom.

I never had trouble falling asleep. Daphne's glare was simply part of the routine, although I can't help but wonder...

Would things be different now if I hadn't been so complacent?


So I like writing romance/drama fiction, but I hate being out of canon when it comes to partners in a relationship. When I heard that Draco gets married to a practically unknown character (Astoria Greengrass), I jumped at it. I can mold a canon character to my own ideas? Perfect.

This is Astoria centric; it's about her entire life, and not just her life with Draco. It's all here, beginning to end, and Draco is only one small part of it. It only gets heavily romantic/dramatic later in the story, after she and Draco both leave Hogwarts.

The story's format will simply be a collection of Astoria's most vivid memories, all from her point of view. Later in the story (when actual plot becomes more heavy) I might switch to a more novel-esque format, but right now, as I explore her childhood, it will be the memory system.

Review, please.