"Astoria!" The magically enhanced voice of her mother resounded throughout the vast Greengrass manor, seeping into every crevice and scaring all the living creatures inhabiting the grounds of the estate.
Astoria Greengrass flinched, unhappy about being forced viciously back to reality from the novel she was reading. She shoved the book under her bed, sighed, and threw her long, dark hair over her shoulder, standing up resignedly. She ventured over to the door of her bedroom, clenching her jaw in anticipation for what was to come.
"Yes, mother?" She called into the immense space.
"Drawing room." Her mother's voice, at a lower volume this time, but still reverberating through the house, directed strictly. "Now. The guests will be arriving shortly."
She had almost forgotten. Astoria glanced at the tall grandfather clock in the hallway, ready to chime on the hour. In just fifteen minutes her home would be infiltrated by a bunch of ancestry-obsessed, gossiping nuisances.
She hurried down the hallway knowing the longer she took, the more impatient her mother would get. "Curse my short legs." She thought to herself frantically, attempting to lengthen her stride to get to her destination faster.
"Astoria!" Her mother's voice called again, impatiently.
"I'm here, mother." She said breathlessly, wincing at the beginnings of blisters beginning to emerge on her feet. Damn the silver high heeled shoes Daphne had forced her into.
"Of course, dear." Her mother said, barely looking up at Astoria's frantic entrance. Her mother stood in the center of the room, turning around slowly to make sure that everything was in its place: the curtains hung in front of the windows, blocking out all traces of the warm sun, tea was on the short, dark coffee table in the center of the room, ready to be served the moment the guests flooed in through the fireplace. Astoria could almost hear her mother's mental checklist. Dark room? Check. Tea? Check. Unwanted daughter? Check.
Astoria stood beside her mother silently; waiting for some kind of acknowledgement of her presence, knowing it was only time before her mother moved down the list to her next priority: Astoria's looks. And sure enough, her mother did not disappoint.
"Oh, darling," her mother said disapprovingly, shaking her blond head. The terms of endearment held a slightly sarcastic tone with her youngest daughter. 'Dear' and 'darling' often escaped her lips sounding like a curse.
Astoria mentally rolled her eyes as her mother began to inspect the gown she had on. Curling up in bed with a good book seemed to have wrinkled the once-perfectly-pressed dress, giving off the impression of "sloppiness" that was "distasteful for a young lady of her calibre."
"Now, Astoria," her mother said disapporivingly, drawing her wand, "a young lady of your calibre must not prance around in a wrinkled dress. Your future husband will most likely be attending this party tonight—or at least, one of his family members." Her mother added as an afterthought.
Astoria bit her lip to keep from retorting. It was Pureblood tradition that women get married early in life. When she was younger she took that fact for granted thinking that when she was eighteen or nineteen she would feel grown up and more mature. She wasn't. True, she had seen things that her eleven-year-old-self could even imagine in her wildest nightmares, but she still felt like herself.
It hadn't helped matters when Daphne got engaged just under a month ago. The infamous loner-boy Theodore Nott finally settling down! It was Pureblood gossip for ages. In fact, that was the reason for the party tonight. An engagement party. And Astoria was next.
Astoria was saved from the desire to express her feelings when none other than her sister flooed into the house, accompanied by her fiancé.
"Mother! Astoria! So lovely to see you!" Daphne Greengrass (soon to be Nott) stepped out of the fireplace, kissing both of them on each cheek; Theodore followed behind her, silently greeting his future in-laws with a quick kiss on their cheeks.
Daphne had inherited her mother's blond hair and clear blue eyes. Her curvy figure and short stature made her appealing to boys of all ages, ever since the girls were younger. Her personality was surprisingly pleasant for a Slytherin—she had a certain kindness about her that even though was often faked, was craved by her close friends. Nothing she said was ever sarcastic and she was either a very good liar or she always twisted her words to make her compliments sound genuine.
"Daphne!" Priscilla Greengrass greeted her favourite daughter lovingly, squeezing her hands. "Theodore! It's been so long."
Astoria resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. Her sister had left an hour ago to fetch her fiancée, and they had just seen Theodore a few days ago for wedding preparations.
Soon after Daphne and Theodore's arrival, the fireplace became a vessel for the constant stream of high society guests. Each person entered, giving the standard kiss-kiss greeting, and entered the Greengrass Manor, careful not to leave ashy footprints on the ground or face the wrath of Priscilla.
Astoria found herself extremely bored, standing in a corner, thinking about what a shame it was that this beautiful gown had gone to waste on such unworthy company. She caught her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace, satisfactorily looking at the young woman who stared back at her. With a flick of her mother's wand, the wrinkles had vanished and the emerald colored satin flowed all the way down to the ground from the deep v-neck neckline. Her dark hair hung straightly down her back, looking healthy and shiny and her hazel eyes seemed more of a green color yet they held a look of extreme boredom.
The high heels were still uncomfortable, and the irony was not lost on Astoria that even though she was sorted into Ravenclaw, here she was, at her sister's engagement party, dressed in Slytherin colours. Astoria found herself wishing that these people would just leave her home so that she could go back upstairs to her roomy bedroom and curl up with her book again.
Astoria glanced around the room, noting that many of the prominent Pureblood families had attended the engagement celebration. Adrian Pucey and his wife Veronica were in a corner, chatting with Blaise Zabini and his fiancée Tracey Davis. Tracy's older brother Derrick had his arm wrapped around his very pregnant wife, Daene, and countless other Pureblood couples mingled and chatted amongst each other, probably thinking vindictive thoughts about each other inside the private sectors of their minds. Oh, how Astoria sometimes wished to be gifted at Occlumency, just to relieve some of the boredom of these events.
All the men at this party were taken, Astoria noted with a look of disdain. Now that she thought about it, this was probably the plan. To increase Daphne and Theodore' social circle from school chums and exes to ex school chums and their significant others. They'll probably start a couple's book club or something just as ridiculous.
Astoria snorted to herself at the thought of her sister in a book club. While Astoria had been sorted in Ravenclaw and adored reading, Daphne had been sorted into Slytherin and adored...well…boys. Amongst other things—gossiping, shopping, and flirting.
It was a wonder how the two girls were even related: with such vastly different personalities one might even find it easier to count up their similarities: they both had the same last name, (though that won't last for too long), the same shaped eyes, and the same gait.
It was then that Astoria noticed that she was not the only person standing alone at this function. To her right, across the room, stood Draco Malfoy, looking impassively at all the people assembled around him, his cold grey eyes unemotional, his arms crossed over his chest in a defense posture, his mouth in a tight line.
Standing next to him was his mother, Narcissa. Astoria realised that Draco's protective stance did not only protect himself, but his mother whom he was shielding from the rest of the room by standing slightly in front of her, almost daring anyone to come up and make a polite conversation with them. Merlin only knew where Lucius Malfoy was.
Immediately after the war the Malfoys had tried to make amends with the Ministry. They pleaded and manipulated and cunningly defended themselves, weaving their way out of trouble. They still had a hefty amount of fines to pay, but no one in their immediate family was sent to Azkaban, which was more that could be said for the rest of the Pureblood families.
So now the Malfoys were an outcast to both worlds: certainly not on the heroes' side, they weren't fully accepted by all the other Purebloods either—not after the way the escaped punishment like the rest of them.
Astoria's own family had not been involved in the war, not having been influential enough for Voldemort to care about them, so they laid low, biding their time, keeping their heads down as the waited out the effects of his treachery.
But the war had still affected Astoria, as she will always remember thanks to a sliver of a scar situated just above her shoulder blade, a slim, thin line with a slight curve to it—the cause of this scar will never be forgotten.
Having enough of her silent solitude, Astoria nodded at her mother's disapproving glance, moving around the room to smile at the awful people. She made her way slowly to the Malfoys, who were still alone. They seemed to be having some kind of wordless communication through their eyes and Astoria felt a slight pang of sadness—she had never been able to communicate without words to someone else. She wondered vaguely what it would be like as she approached them.
"Good evening, Draco, Mrs. Malfoy." She said politely, smiling her civil smile, one that conveyed a pleasing emotion without showing all her teeth. "Is there something I can get you?"
She felt her mother's eyes glaring two holes into her back. It was common knowledge that no one talk to the Malfoys. They were invited to these things, and attended them, only out of habitual action. Their presence was neither welcomed nor disputed, leaving the only reaction to ignore them.
Narcissa's eyes flashed incredulously to Astoria's face, trying to determine if this was some kind of joke. She glanced at her son unsurely, and Astoria turned to face Draco.
His cold grey eyes study her intently, as if testing her or trying to decide if she was posing some kind of threat to his family. Seeing nothing but a mask of happiness, he shook his head curtly. "No, thank you."
He kept his face and tone of voice completely emotionless-in fact, if Astoria would put a wager on the fact that the composed mask of his face had not lifted once: he never smiled, nor did he frown, or squint or do anything that would put the muscles of his face to use.
Fleetingly, Astoria wondered if he would even get wrinkles as he grew older, with such an impassive face would wrinkles ever set in? She banished the thought quickly from her mind, deciding it a foolish waste of her time to think about Draco Malfoy's future face and his lack of wrinkles.
"Could I possibly offer you a chair?" She offered in a falsely bright tone.
But before either Malfoy's could reply to her generous offer (no doubt to coldly but politely decline the offer of a chair) Priscilla Greengrass made her way over.
"Come, Astoria," she said with authority, "there is a man I'd like you to meet. Stephen Cornfoot, I'm sure you've heard of him." Priscilla smiled tightly at the Malfoys, leading her daughter away from them.
Astoria sighed as her mother dragged her over to the tall, blond haired, brown eyed boy in the corner.
"Stephen this is my daughter, Astoria. I understand that you were both in Ravenclaw together, though I believe Astoria might have been a few years behind you!" Her mother subtlety hinted with the grace of a Pureblood, high-society woman, but Astoria had the feeling that Stephen Cornfoot could see right through her.
"Astoria," he greeted in a deep, pleasingly husky voice, "I believe we've met a few times." He winks at her and her mother practically beams behind her. "It is a pleasure to see you again."
Astoria sucked in a breath, wishing she were anywhere but here in this particular moment. "It's absolutely lovely to see you again, but unfortunately I'm feeling unwell." She lied, a brilliant idea striking her. Her mother's fingernails dig into her skin and it's all Astoria can do not to cry out in pain. "However, maybe I will see you again soon at one of these lovely events?" She offered her hand out politely as a goodbye gesture.
Stephen chuckled discreetly at her sarcasm and kissed her proffered hand. "I would be delighted."
Astoria's stomach fluttered lightly and she felt like slapping herself. Merlin, she couldn't fall for every guy that came around, kissing her hand and wishing to see her again.
She turned around, heading in the direction of the doorway, eager to escape this prison-like drawing room.
"Young lady," her mother hissed in her ear, "where do you think you're going."
"Mother, I am not feeling well. I am going to my room." She said defiantly.
"You feel just fine!" her mother chastised immediately. "Now go back to your sister's engagement party and—"
"I hate to miss the rest of Daphne's party, truly I do," Astoria lied through her teeth, "but I already told Stephen that I was feeling under the weather. I think he might actually like me and I don't want him to think I was lying to him….in fact maybe a little game of playing hard to get might entice him a little bit more." She embellished on her lie, feeling inspired.
She wondered for a quick moment how she wasn't placed in Slytherin, then discarded the thought as quickly as she thought of it.
Her mother's resolve weakened. "Alright, go up to your room. Don't come down again until everyone is gone." Priscilla threatened.
Astoria happily obeyed, whipping around and all but sprinting out of the drawing room. As soon as she was released from the room, she bent down, ripping the high heels off her feet and jogging in the direction of her bedroom, enjoying the feel of the cold tile against her aching feet.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadow, catching her off guard. Draco Malfoy stepped out of the loo, looking as impassive as ever. His face was still unemotional even as she skidded to a stop less than a metre away from him, startled by his sudden appearance. But his eyes held a strange, haunted emotion. They held eye contact for a long moment before he walked around her and went back into the drawing room.
Astoria hurried up to her bedroom at a slower pace than before, still contemplating the dead look in his grey eyes.
Though she tried to get back into her novel again, she could never seem to quite concentrate on the words on the pages of her book, instead preferring to contemplate exactly what shade of grey his eyes were and the events that lead to the cold, dead look in his eyes. The look of desolation.
A/N: So, I must admit: this idea has been fluttering around in my head for ages. I usually write Rose/Scorpius and I just couldn't resist thinking about Scorpius's parents and their relationship...and then I sat down and typed this up and I feel incredibly relieved.
So this is my first Draco/Astoria fic which I am really excited about.
I know...I know...for those of you that have read my other stories: I put Guarded on hiatus because of my ridiculous amount of "in progress" works. But i'm working on the third chapter of that right now as you read and my muse just really wanted me to do this fic.
I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think,
~wwccd