A Draco and Astoria story. Follows Canon, might be very slightly AU for HBP. Will follow their relationship through HBP and beyond.

"A tutor? A fucking tutor?!"

The entire situation was fucking ridiculous. Who gave a shit about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, anyway? He wasn't even going to be completing his sixth year, what the fuck did a couple of pointless subjects about a dead language even matter?

He could almost understand why Slughorn was here – even if the man was a useless oaf – as his Head of House, it made sense that he would be involved in the scholarly business of his students. Professor Vector, for her part, seemed a little dismayed that she even needed to have this conversation, since he had been at the top of her class only the June before school broke for summer. No, it was the presence of the Headmaster that was irking him. Why the fuck did Dumbledore need to be aware of this? It was embarrassing.

"Language," Slughorn remarked, although he too bristled at the idea of one of his students needing a tutor.

Professor Vector's face was stony. "If Mr Malfoy wishes to remain in my class, he will need to devote some extra time to his studies. Since school began in September he has been perpetually failing. The four essays that were set for summer homework were not submitted, his class work is utterly abysmal, I strongly suspect that he hasn't even seen the reading list and his attitude is nothing short of a disgrace. I cannot spare the time nor the staff to bring him up to speed, and so a well-performing student is of course the next best option."

Draco gritted his teeth, but he couldn't really argue. His task from the Dark Lord was taking up all of his spare time, and so all of his work was becoming of an increasingly poor quality, especially in those subjects that he deemed unnecessary or unhelpful. "Better not be Granger," he mumbled, fiddling with his sleeve.

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. "Whilst Miss Granger is indeed a talented young lady, she is not a part of the student mentor programme."

"Not that that is any concern of yours, Mr Malfoy," Professor Vector added tightly, not appreciating Draco's jibe towards her latest star pupil, and Slughorn shot him an admonishing glare.

"Until September, I was second in my year, average wise," Draco pointed out, "And first in the classes that Slytherin didn't share with Gryffindor. I don't need a tutor."

"This is not a negotiation, Mr Malfoy. If you wish to continue with Arithmancy and Ancient Runes..."

Draco shifted in his seat. "But... What if I don't want to continue? Can't I just take something else instead?"

"You would lose three credits per subject dropped and would only gain half a credit per subject taken up," Dumbledore replied tiredly. "And that would mean that you would not graduate. I can assure you, Mr Malfoy, Miss Greengrass is very discreet. She would never..."

"Greengrass?! Daphne Greengrass couldn't tutor me if her life depended on it! She's the biggest airhead I've ever known!" He shook his head in disgust.

"Draco-" Slughorn began, but Professor Vector cut him off.

"Astoria Greengrass achieves the highest grades out of her year group. She is well practised in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."

Draco frowned. "Daphne's sister is a year younger than me. How can she tutor me if she's never done the class before?"

It was Slughorn who answered him. "The Greengrass sisters are descended from a long line of soothsayers," he recalled, "Soothsayers can interpret events from Runes, and Arithmancy is the art of using those Runes to show your own ends, to predict patterns and foresee outcomes." He glanced at Vector, who nodded in confirmation, and went on, "So of course the choice of tutor in this case is clear. The Greengrass girls have been reading Runes since they were old enough to read at all." A quiet pride had entered his voice – regardless of his feelings about the situation, it was impressive that a fifth year student out of his house had been volunteered to tutor a sixth year, and that was no mean feat.

Vector nodded again. "Yes. I have been considering the possibility for weeks, but until recently I hadn't mentioned it to her. She is more than capable, and I have no doubts that she will be able to support Draco with his workload as well as managing her own."

Draco pulled a face but said nothing. So apparently he was going to be stuck with the next Hermione sodding Granger, wonder child and Rune-reader. From what he remembered of the younger Greengrass sister she was a quiet observer, rather than a person who got involved in the nitty gritty of House politics. When he thought of Astoria he could only picture green eyes peeping over the top of a book and dark hair that hung in a shiny curtain of loose curls down her back. He couldn't ever remember seeing the rest of her face. The only redeeming quality here was the fact that she was a Slytherin, and so was likely to be so terrified of his infamous temper that she'd just tell him what he needed to know without wasting too much of his time. It helped that she was younger, too, and the fact that she was female also played in his favour.

Finally, Draco looked up and nodded. "Alright then. I accept."

He was late.

But, then, he was always late.

He rapped his knuckles on Professor Vector's door, his jaw clenching when it creaked open. He gave the Professor a tight lipped smile and sat down in a chair in front of her desk, not bothering to look at the dark haired girl sitting next to him.

The first thing he noticed about her – in his peripheral vision, of course – was her relaxed posture. She was sitting back in her chair, her legs crossed at the knee, her elbows on the arms of the chair. He did look at her legs, then, and gulped at her toned thighs that were suddenly all he could focus on.

Professor Vector coughed and Draco looked up, slightly embarrassed to have been caught openly ogling her legs. She narrowed her eyes at him pointedly and Draco gave her an apologetic shrug.

"I have asked you both here today so that you can get to know one another without attracting the attention of your classmates."

Draco wanted to give Professor Vector a round of applause, then, for recognising how unusual it would be for a sixth year like him to suddenly start studying with a quite little fifth year like her. At least this way they could make up a convincing lie, like he was dating her or something.

Beside him, the girl nodded, also slightly impressed by their Professor's shrewdness.

The woman stood up, spreading her arms. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted, then."

She swiftly left the room, and the two teenagers sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, neither of them willing to break the tension.

Eventually, she turned her head to his, finally looking him in the eye, and Draco sat up a little straighter, extending his hand towards her. "Draco Malfoy."

She gave him a tight smile – Merlin, her smile – and shook his hand. "I know who you are." He could've groaned at the sound of her voice; low, seductive. He titled his head, examining her carefully. She was not at all what he had expected.

He'd thought she'd be a twitchy little kid, more afraid of upsetting the infamous Draco Malfoy than she was bothered about tutoring him, but he was surprisingly more than pleased to find that she was not at all moved by who he was. Instead, the girl across from him held his gaze without flinching, her perfectly shaped eyebrows twitching at his perusal.

"You don't look a thing like your sister," he murmured, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand.

This was true. Unlike her sister, who was blonde, tanned and curvy, Astoria's luminescent beauty was much more refined. She was slender and pale, her long legs only emphasised by her short pleated skirt and black knee socks. Her hair – the darkest of browns, entwined with mahogany and chocolate and a rare stand of auburn - was thick, voluminous and wavy; almost overpoweringly-so against the delicate features of her face.

Her dark curls had been pulled back in a low pony tail, but tendrils had escaped to frame her face, and Draco's hands itched to tuck them behind her dainty little ears.

She had bone structure reminiscent of her sister's: high cheekbones, a straight and slightly up-turned nose, an angular jaw and a small square chin. Her features were in the dramatic, elegantly pretty stereotypical pure-blood fashion, but it was her eyes that held his attention, immediately marking her as unique.

Her eyes were green, the kind of green that demanded attention, like grass peeking through a snow drift as a promise of the coming spring. Holding her gaze was like being chased through a forest during a summer storm, like staring down into a churning ocean with rolling waves, like drinking whiskey and dancing under a canopy of leaves with a lover. Such a wild green could only have been taken out of nature, he thought.

"I know," she replied, coolly amused by his scrutiny. She slowly pulled her hand away, pursing her lips and glancing at her watch. He almost groaned as she broke their eye contact, wanting immediately to grasp her chin and force her to look at him again. He could get lost in her eyes, and Merlin, did he want to. She cleared her throat. "Shall we go to the library, then?"

Suddenly irritated at the thought of her fitting him into her schedule, Draco sneered. "I'd rather stay right here, thank you."

She nodded wordlessly, but her eyes flashed, and Draco found himself absurdly pleased that he'd been able to irk her, if only a little. Astoria stood up, perching herself on Vector's desk, and folded her arms. "What is it that you need help with?"

"I don't need anybody's help," Draco said testily, glaring at the buttons on her shirt and slumping in his chair.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? And there I was thinking that you'd been failing Arithmancy for over a month."

"Fuck you," he hissed, standing up with such a force that his chair toppled backwards, "I don't want any help, especially not from some stupid little fifth year tart who thinks she's better than everybody else." He looked over at her with an expectant sneer, half wanting her to slap him or to refuse to help him.

Instead, she shrugged and picked up her bag, not at all moved by his little temper tantrum. "Alright then. I'll see you around."

She walked to the door without hesitating, and Draco found himself stepping after her. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Back to my dorm room," she answered over her shoulder, "I have homework to do."

"But..." He struggled a little, "You're supposed to..."

She spun around then, one of her little eyebrows raised and a hand on her hip. "I'm supposed to what?"

"Help me," Draco muttered, running his hands through his hair.

Astoria sighed and shook her head. "Apologise for insulting me and I'll quite happily do just that."

He was astonished. Who did she think she was? "Do you have any idea who I am?" he hissed, "How dare you..."

"Of course I do. You're a Malfoy. A self entitled brat with an attitude problem, constantly expecting everybody else to do your dirty work. Well, Malfoy," Astoria went on, a malicious tone entering her voice as she said his name, "I'm not afraid of you and I won't let you speak to me like that."

"I'll speak to you however I fucking like," Draco retorted, his handsome face becoming ugly as he scowled at her, "I don't fucking need this. I don't fucking need you. Go on; piss off back to your sad little friends."

"Have it your way. Fail a little more; I'm sure that'll make your mother proud – as if she didn't have enough to worry about." She shrugged again, knowing full well she'd delivered a killer blow. She walked from the room without stopping, then, and let the door close behind her.

Draco couldn't believe it. He'd been outwitted by a fifth year. And, worse still, she'd been dead right. The only reason he'd agreed to be tutored in the first place was to make sure his mother wasn't disappointed in his grades. Of course he was aware that he'd be leaving school after this year, but he still wanted his mother to know he'd done well right up until the very last moment.

He sank down into his chair, wondering how she'd known exactly what to say to him. Most of his friends thought that it was his father he didn't want to disappoint, and it was true, Lucius played a massive role in his life. But in terms of happiness and honour, it was his mother's opinion that really mattered. It was true: Narcissa Malfoy was a Slytherin through and through – like her husband, like her son – but there was a little something in her that glowed with pride whenever she or her son achieved through hard work and honesty, and Draco loved to see her smile.

Damn that Greengrass bint. He'd show her. He didn't need her, Draco decided, he could do this on his own.

"Troll?" Draco was horrified. This was his lowest Arithmancy grade yet, and when he looked across the room, Granger was practically radiating with triumph as she showed off her 'E'.

Professor Vector hovered in front of him with narrowed eyes. "Did you manage to get any reading done over the weekend?" He knew full well that she wasn't asking about reading; she was asking about Astoria.

Draco shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "I found it hard to get to grips with," he said honestly, staring warily down at the large 'T' at the top of his essay as if it would leap of the parchment and bite him.

"There are twelve more homework essays to be done this year," she informed him, "Another two grades of such a low calibre and you will fail the entire subject." Then, correctly guessing the tenure of what had happened, "I am told that Miss Greengrass likes daisies, should you wish to make her a little warmer towards you."

Nodding in defeat, Draco rested his forehead on the desk. He definitely had some grovelling to do.

On the plus side, he was definitely getting somewhere with the vanishing cabinet.

Sort of.

He'd successfully managed to make an apple disappear and then reappear, but there'd been a chunk missing from it, as if it had splinched on the way back. Promising, he thought.

But not really.

"Daphne!"

The girl turned at the sound of her name, raising her eyebrows when she saw it was Draco who had called after her. "What is it, Malfoy? I'm meeting Astoria..."

He pulled a face. "I know. I, er, I have something for her."

"You do?" Torn between what was a delicious piece of gossip and protecting the interests of her sister, Daphne cocked her hip and folded her arms. "Well? What is it?"

Draco stiffened, pushing his gift further into his pocket. "I'd rather give it to her myself, if that's alright. Would you mind if I walked with you? To meet her, I mean?"

The elder Greengrass sister shrugged. "Do what you like. Free country."

"For now, at least," Draco muttered, guiltily tugging his left sleeve down a little further.

Daphne looked up at him. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

The girl glanced across at her handsome companion and couldn't help but be a little impressed with her younger sister's catch; a Malfoy was not to be sniffed at, not even by a Greengrass. It was no secret that she - the elder – was the more desirable of the two, at least to the majority of the male population. Daphne knew that she was beautiful; she had those naturally pretty bombshell looks that boys just fell to pieces for. She was tanned, she had long blonde hair, her mother's cornflower blue eyes and she had a perfect hourglass figure. She was confident, happy-go-lucky, reasonably intelligent and popular.

Astoria, however, was dark haired and pale, and probably the more striking of the Greengrass sisters, especially with her mesmerizing green eyes. She was more introverted than her sister, though she had a quiet confidence that stopped people assuming that she was easy prey.

"Er..."

Daphne was jolted from her musings by his voice, and she narrowed her eyes. "Yes?"

Malfoy looked around. "Where exactly are we going?"

"The Quidditch pitch, of course," she replied, as if the answer was obvious.

"...Why?"

Daphne smirked at this. So, apparently Draco's interest in her little sister was one-sided if she hadn't told him of her hobbies. "Because she likes to run."

"Run?" he echoed, trying to picture Astoria in gym clothes. "I never would have thought Astoria to be the athletic type."

"Yeah," Daphne said, seemingly bored with this conversation, "She tries to get up to the Room of Requirement at least once a week for a dance. We have our own studio, at home."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Studio?"

"For ballet," she elaborated, her smirk blooming again when she saw Draco's face.

He was picturing Astoria in a tight little leotard and tights, stretching and bending and contorting herself into odd positions. He gulped as the girl in question appeared in front of them.

"Daph, why did you bring him down here?"

Draco gaped at her appearance. She was wearing skin-tight black running trousers that hugged her toned legs, her blue sports bra peeking out from beneath a zip-up hooded top.

Daphne grinned. "Draco here has a little present for you."

Astoria looked up at him expectantly. He'd never noticed how tall she was, at least, for a girl. She was easily taller than her sister, and had she been wearing heels she would be almost eye-to-eye with him. "A gift?"

Draco glanced between Astoria and Daphne, feeling entirely awkward. "Er... Yeah. Here." He reached into his pocket again, pulling out the little box and placing it into her hand. "It's not much, but..."

Astoria and Daphne exchanged a glance, the younger of the two slowly opening the box. Inside was a delicate silver chain bracelet, with a single daisy charm the size of a knut hanging from the centre. "It's lovely," Astoria said with a small smile, quite obviously pleasantly surprised as she traced her pointer finger over the charm. "How did you..."

"Why did you?" Daphne interrupted, now suspicious of Draco's motives. Whilst she wasn't aware of what had happened between her sister and Malfoy, it bothered her more that she couldn't gauge the level of their relationship. For example, a fumble in the dark and a few kisses were one thing, but buying a girl jewellery was entirely another.

"I wanted to apologise," he muttered, avoiding Daphne's eyes, "I, er, said a few things, and I wanted to say that I was, er... Sorry."

Astoria nodded, trying her best to be serious, but there was a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Thank you," she said quietly, "I appreciate it."

"So..." Draco began hopefully, "Me and you..."

Glancing up at her sister, Astoria smiled. "Will you give us a minute, Daph?"

"Alright," Daphne agreed, looking more than a little put out, but she backed off enough to give the two some privacy.

"You can't just buy me a bracelet every time you say something horrible, you know," Astoria told him, and Draco grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, but there's always the matching earrings and the necklace..."

She smacked his arm, but sighed in defeat. "Alright, alright. I accept your apology."

"You'll still help me?" The hopeful expression on his face made her insides melt a little.

"I'll still help you," she acquiesced, "But you have to promise to be pleasant."

He nodded. "Done."

"What do you want me to tell Daphne?" Astoria asked him, and Draco shrugged.

"Whatever you like."

Looking over at Daphne's impatient expression, Astoria rolled her eyes. "Look, I'll meet you at 6.30pm in front of the library, alright?"

"Alright," he said, nodding politely to Daphne before he left the two alone.

...

It was 6.28pm, and Draco was leaning against a wall outside of the library. For the first time in a long time, he realised that he was nervous. Nervous about something that didn't involve the Dark Lord or his father.

Even more concerning was the fact that he was nervous about meeting a girl. Draco Malfoy did not get nervous about girls.

Girls fawned over him. Girls chased him. Girls fell over themselves to get into his bed.

He'd never had to make any effort with a female who wasn't a family member in his entire life.

He didn't even know if he fancied Astoria, but the thought of spending an evening sitting next to her was enough to give him butterflies. They weren't even a couple. She wasn't even right for him. She was too cold, too calm; too studious and too serious. She was friends with Hufflepuffs and civil to Gryffindors and he just hadn't ever imagined himself ending up with someone like her – like her buxom sister, perhaps, but not like her.

But he just couldn't stop thinking about her smile, her eyes.

In the present, she cleared her throat and he looked up, giving her a polite nod in greeting. She gestured to the library. "Shall we?"

She'd only been tutoring him for a week and he was already feeling the difference. He just understood everything a little better, absorbed more information in his classes, and the quality of his work was starting to creep back up.

She even set him homework.

...

"Go back and revise your Runes."

"What?" He spluttered, "I know my Runes perfectly well."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Then what does this one mean?" She pointed to a Rune and looked at him expectantly.

"Er... That is an A or and F," he replied, and she shook her head, rolling up the parchment and hitting him with it.

"Wrong. Do some revision or all of this is pointless."

...

"Astoria! Astoria!"

She looked up from her homework with wide eyes, ignoring her friends' astonished stares, and smiled at the sight of him walking hastily towards her.

He pulled her from her chair and drew her into one of the many alcoves of the Slytherin common room. "Look!"

He passed her the parchment, absolutely loving the way her mouth fell open at his 'Acceptable'. "Malfoy, that's brilliant!"

Draco nodded (a part of his mind wondering when the fuck an 'Acceptable' had been worth celebrating: oh, how the mighty had fallen). "Let me take you out. To say thank you."

Her face fell. "Oh..."

"What is it?" He pressed, "Come on, there's a Hogsmeade trip this Saturday, let me take you for lunch or something."

She bit her lip. "The thing is... I've already got plans that day: I'm going to Madame Pudifoot's with Cormac McLaggen..."

He'd never seen her blush before. He didn't like it, much preferring the Ice Princess exterior that she usually had. "Oh."

"Malfoy... I'm sorry," she placed a hand on his arm, and he shook it off, hating her pity.

"It's fine. It wasn't like I was asking you out or anything," he retorted scathingly, looking her up and down in a way that suggested that such a thing was ridiculous, "I just wanted to pay you back for helping me out."

She straightened, narrowing her eyes at his tone. "Oh, right."

"Yeah," Draco went on, "I was only suggesting lunch because Pansy and I are planning on getting a room at the Hog's Head, you know, after lunch. It's so hard to get any privacy at Hogwarts, so we thought we'd-,"

Astoria swallowed, holding up a hand to stop him. "Right. I get it. Well. I hope you have a lovely time."

"I'm sure we will," he replied with a sneer, "Have fun with McLaggen."

Her eyes flared and a cold smirk settled on her lips. "Oh, I will."

"Are you okay, Astoria? You've been quiet all day."

She looked up at her date and gave him a tight smile. "I'm fine, Cormac, thank you."

He didn't look convinced. "Are you sure? You look a bit... tired."

"I'm fine," she repeated, staring at the cooling pink liquid in her teacup, trying and failing not to care that Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were canoodling in a booth in the corner of the tearoom.

"Oh, Draco, you are positively wicked!" At Pansy's mock-scandalised gasp from the corner, Astoria had had enough.

She stood up and walked around the table, lowering her mouth to Cormac's ear. But before she could speak, she glanced across the room. He was staring directly at her, his eyes blazing a heated trail over her figure. She'd opted for dark super-skinny jeans and black suede boots with a thin heel, combined with a tight charcoal grey cashmere jumper and her little leather jacket. Her dark hair had been teased to perfection, and her eyes had been thickly outlined in kohl. She looked far older than her tender age of fifteen, and when he looked at her like that, she certainly felt it. "Cormac, shall we go for a walk? Get out of here and go somewhere a little more... private?"

She said it loud enough for Draco to hear, and as she straightened, she saw that Pansy was smiling and waving her over. She sashayed across the room, revelling in the way Draco's eyes followed every swing of her hips, and stopped in front of Pansy's table. "Hi, Pans. How are you?" She glanced at him, her features carefully blank. "Malfoy."

Pansy grinned, but there was a malevolent glint in her eyes. "Oh, we're fine, aren't we, Draco?" Draco nodded silently and looked away. "So... You and McLaggen?" Pansy asked, hooking her arm possessively through Draco's, "I never would have put you with a Gryffindor, Astoria. You seem like a Ravenclaw kind of girl."

Astoria shrugged, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "You have to admit, Pans, Cormac is gorgeous."

"And he's a seventh year," Draco pointed out snippily, still not looking at her. "Bit old for you, isn't he?"

Astoria shrugged, but her eyes sparkled. "At least he'll know what he's doing." She winked at Pansy. "I'll see you later."

She walked back over to Cormac and took his arm. "Shall we, Miss Greengrass?"

Astoria smiled coquettishly. "Lead the way, Mr McLaggen."

As they left the tearoom, her eyes found Draco's. Her eyebrow twitched, well aware of how irritated Malfoy was at the situation, and Draco knew then and there that he was falling in love with her.

"You're late," she pointed out, not looking up from her textbook.

He sat down across from her. "Pansy held me up. She dragged me into a classroom-,"

Astoria held up her pointer finger, silencing him. "One: that isn't an acceptable apology. Two: I could care less how you spend your time. Three: I have my own friends to see and my own homework to do, so you could at least have the decency to respect that I'm taking time out of my life to help you out."

Draco bristled. "And what's that supposed to mean? You could care less how I spend my time?"

"It's not like we're friends or anything," she replied icily, leaning back in her chair and raising her eyebrows. "You can do whatever you like with whoever you like. Just don't turn up twenty minutes late and expect me to be alright with it."

"I can do whatever I please," Draco said, pulling out his textbook. "Just like you can do whatever you please with that tosser McLaggen."

Astoria pursed her lips and her eyes flared. "My personal life is none of your business."

"It's my business if it's all over school," he hissed, flicking his book open and glaring at her. "All I've heard all fucking day is Astoria this, McLaggen that. Blah blah blah. You're supposed to be helping me, not shagging around."

"What do you care if I 'shag around'?" she asked, using her fingers to air quote, "It's nothing to do with you."

"I don't care," Draco bit out, "I just don't want my grades to suffer because you're distracted."

She scoffed, folding her arms and looking utterly enraged. "Oh, I think you can manage bad grades all on your own."

Trying not to notice how beautiful she was when she was angry, Draco scowled. "Are you calling me thick?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you meant it," he spat, glaring at her, "How dare you-,"

"How dare you?!" Astoria cried, grabbing her bag off the floor and standing up, "You turn up late, you don't even have the manners to apologise and then you start insulting me! Merlin, I can't believe I stood up for you. Good luck in Arithmancy."

Suddenly defeated, Draco let out a rough exhale. "For fuck's sake. Astoria, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was late. I'm sorry for not..." She raised her eyebrows, prompting him to go on, "I'm sorry I didn't respect you. And I'm sorry for insulting you. Alright?"

She sat down again, shaking her head. "No, it's not alright." She sighed. "Where were we up to last week?"

Draco hid his relieved smile behind his book.

She hid her confusion well when she found him waiting for her after her Potions class one afternoon in late November.

"Malfoy," she greeted him, not stopping as she passed him. She raised an eyebrow when he fell into step beside her. "People are going to talk if you keep doing this," Astoria pointed out.

"Doing what?"

She shook her head. "Speaking to me in public."

Draco frowned. As if he gave a fuck. "So what?"

"So," She said, gritting her teeth, "You're meant to have a girlfriend."

"Oh, that."

"Yes. That. And as much as Pansy Parkinson does my head in, I don't think its fair my being seen chatting away to her boyfriend like he's an old friend when – if the rumour mill is correct – you can't stand the sight of her half the time." She shook her head again in exasperation when Draco shrugged. "Merlin, boys are so hopeless."

"I'm not hopeless," Draco muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I wanted to let you know that you don't need to tutor me anymore."

She stiffened, but smiled all the same. "Oh, well, good, then."

"Yeah," he replied, "Vector said my marks are high enough, now. So... thanks, I suppose."

Astoria nodded impassively. "You're welcome."

"...Cormac, you're not listening to me."

Draco paused on the corridor, halting as he heard her voice coming from behind a tapestry.

"Come on, Astoria," the boy laughed, "He's never even going to look at you."

"It isn't about him," she hissed, "Stop it."

"Then, why, Astoria? Why now? I thought you were coming to my parent's Christmas party," a wounded male voice replied, and Draco clenched his fists.

"Because I don't want to be in a relationship," Astoria said, clearly beyond irritated at her beau. "I don't want to be anybody's girlfriend."

Cormac tutted. "I bet you'd be his girlfriend, if he asked. I don't understand why you're all so bloody fixated with him! He's too skinny, he's fucking hopeless at Quidditch..."

"This has nothing to do with him," she repeated menacingly, and Draco grinned as he recalled her temper, "Stop acting like I'm breaking up with you because of Draco bloody Malfoy!"

"Why not?" Cormac taunted, "That's the truth. You fancy him, Tori, don't deny it."

Behind the tapestry, Astoria was struggling not to see red, and she was more than a little relieved when the woven image was swept away, until it revealed the very topic of their conversation. The muscles in her jaw clenched as she resisted the urge to throttle his stupid blonde head.

Inwardly, Draco was preening. "Well, well, well. What have we here? Little lover's tiff?"

"Perfect. You." She stormed past Draco and shot Cormac a black look over her shoulder. "Oh, and Cormac? Size does matter." Her eyes trailed down to his zipper and she smirked. "Pity."

Draco let out a bark of laughter at her insult. "Ouch. Do you impress all the girls this way, McLaggen?"

"Piss off, Malfoy. Tori, wait, don't leave it like this..." McLaggen pushed past him, and, seeing that his ex-girlfriend had disappeared, turned back to Malfoy looking extremely annoyed. McLaggen was thickly built and tall, but he still had to look up to meet Malfoy's eyes. He grinned sheepishly, as if they were friends, embarrassed that Malfoy had seen Astoria's insult to his man bits. "Birds, eh? Don't know what they're on about half the time."

Draco shrugged, stepping around the older boy and continuing on down the corridor. "At least I play on the Quidditch team, McLaggen," he called over his shoulder, "What's it feel like knowing Weasley's better than you?"

He didn't even care when McLaggen tackled him to the floor and starting pummelling him. It took him half a minute to remember to fight back.

Astoria was single and she may or may not fancy him.

Life could certainly be worse.

...

She smirked when he appeared at breakfast the next day with a black eye. "Lover's tiff?" she sang after him, licking her lips when he turned to glare at her.

Beside her, Bridget Yaxley was snickering into her orange juice, having clearly been caught up to speed with what had happened.

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but another of her flustered-looking friends arrived at the table, out of breath and appearing terribly excited. "Astoria! Cormac's been expelled."

Astoria glanced up at Draco again, her eyes narrowing slightly at his bruise. "Good," she replied, "Uncivilised brute, attacking someone in public."

"There's no accounting for taste," Pansy interjected snidely from further along the table, "Wasn't he your boyfriend, Astoria?"

Astoria stared across at her, glowering at the girl who'd broken the unwritten rule about not asking personal questions in public. "I hardly think three crap shags count towards a relationship," she replied coolly, "Then again, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Parkinson? Otherwise you'd have at least seven different boyfriends on the go by now. Poor Malfoy... I wonder if he knows-," Pansy let out a shriek of protest and Astoria went quiet, a malicious triumph in her eyes as she raised her goblet and tilted it in Pansy's direction, her eyebrow twitching in that way it did when she knew she'd bested someone.

Draco smirked behind his toast at Pansy's red face.

"Outdone by a fifth year," Zabini commented, eying Astoria with newly-appreciative eyes. "Bad form, Parkinson."

Pansy scowled, glaring daggers at Daphne – who was chortling at her sister. "Don't know what you're laughing at, Daph... I could tell Theo a thing or two."

Millie Bulstrode grinned, patting her friend's arm good naturedly. "Come on, Pans. It's just a bit of banter. Lighten up, have some porridge."

...

He was not expecting her to yank him behind a statue after supper.

"Oi!"

She rolled her eyes. "How's your eye?"

Malfoy pouted a little, hoping she'd take pity on him and offer him a sponge bath or something. "Really, really sore."

"More fool you, then, you tit," she replied smacking him on the shoulder. "Don't antagonise a seventh year."

"What?!" He was more annoyed that she was immune to his charms than he was about her telling him off. "He hit me!"

Astoria sighed, but in spite of herself she reached up to lightly trace her fingers over the bruise, eventually cupping his cheek in her palm. She bit her lip, suddenly hyperaware of the way his eyes were like liquid silver, like mercury; of the way his jaw felt beneath her hand, of the way his hands were now gripping her waist and pulling her closer, one of them snaking up her back to tangle into her hair-

"Ahem."

Astoria took a haste step backwards, glancing at their audience. Fucking Ravenclaw prefects.

She didn't look back at Draco, sliding out from behind the statue and glaring at the prefect who'd interrupted them. She pressed her lips together, not trusting herself to speak.

"What's the matter, Belby, jealous?"

Astoria shivered at Draco's voice – it was rough and strained, and she knew that if she turned around to look at him she'd be dragging him into a classroom and making sure he spoke like that for the rest of the night. So she ran from him. Or, rather, walked back to her dorm as fast as her impeccable breeding would allow. (Like it or not, Astoria Greengrass was unbearably attracted to Draco Malfoy, and it scared the shit out of her.)

Marcus Belby grinned, watching Astoria's retreating figure. "Of course, Malfoy. She's gorgeous."

Draco wasn't entirely sure what happened next, but the sane part of his mind eventually pointed out that he was holding Marcus Belby up against a wall, gripping his robes and threatening to hex his bollocks off if he ever so much as looked at Astoria Greengrass again.

"She's mine, Belby. I won't fucking tell you again." Draco shoved the Ravenclaw to the floor, shaking his head in disgust.

She'd been in the Three Broomsticks illicitly drinking firewhiskey with her friends when they'd heard the scream.

It had come from a long way off, but it was still a scream.

A bloodcurdling, shiver-inducing scream.

xxx