I wouldn't call what Draco and I had a romance, exactly. We were two different entities, two people, united by apathy. I'm self-centred - but being raised as I was, how could I not be? I couldn't fight in the last Great Battle; I was too young. Plus, I don't stand by anything that wouldn't stand by me. They're always looking for a reason to do away with us. I'm not a puritan pureblood, I don't see anything wrong with less noble bloodlines. But I don't feel that it gives them a sense of entitlement, a sense that they're better than us. Who do they think they are? Our superiors? Our betters? There's as much enmity from their point of view as there is against older families - bloodlines like ours. So I didn't fight. I wasn't one of the 'brave', the stupid, to run and fight when I didn't know spells.
I didn't care for much in my life. I also didn't stand for much. But I did always stand by one person, and I'm not quite sure why.
I was born two years after the First War, to one of the oldest pureblood families around; Mother and Father had no interest in politics, and they had bribed the Death Eaters to leave them out of it. Mother and Father had always been apathetic, as had I; but my sister, Daphne, she had emotion. Too much, and all in the wrong places. Two years my elder, she loved pain. Suffering. I remember her trying to make me cry, tearing heads off my dolls, and when that didn't work, breaking my arms. I didn't cry. That's when Mother began wondering if there was something wrong with me.
To be honest, there wasn't. I could feel emotion. I was just taught not to, role-modeled not to, by the two people I considered gods. But they were, in many ways, gods - concerned in their own affairs, not paying attention to their lesser beings, us children.
The day Daphne left for Hogwarts, I almost showed emotion. Not because I missed her. Not because I terribly wanted to go to school, either - I was confused. Things never changed. Daphne was always there, trying to hurt me. Mother was always stopping her. Father was always gone. Now what? What was I to do?
Those two years were very much freedom for me. Mother bought me my wand early, willow and dragon heartstring, made by Gregorovich; Father did not support Ollivander, believing him to be an overpriced good-for-nothing with shoddy work at outrageous prices. I think the real reason was that he sold to Muggleborns. As if the Greengrasses could not afford it, I wanted to say when he complained at the cost. But I held my tongue. I was the good one, the quiet one. The one that never gave problems.
Daphne came home the summer I got my Hogwarts letter with wild stories; a Defense teacher who looked like a movie star, a Basilisk in the school, Potter parading around with the beast's head on a sword, Lucius Malfoy's son being Slytherin's heir and getting away free of blame from the incident, saying it was the Dark Lord. Father laughing, saying it was ridiculous - saying he knew the true heir of Slytherin, and they were certainly no Malfoy. Daphne running to her room crying, screaming he didn't know anything. Mother muttering under her breath about teenagers.
My leaving for Hogwarts was uneventful, at least in the rest of my family's eyes. Daphne begged me that, if I was sorted into any house but Slytherin, to deny any link to her. She assured me she would do the same for me. How honoured I felt.
As I boarded the Hogwarts Express, I looked over my shoulder at Mother and Father, wondering whether they'd wave, smile, cry - show any emotion that I had grown up. But as I scanned the platform full of happy but tearful families kissing their children goodbye, it struck me that my parents had already disapparated.
Slightly hurt, but not daring showing it, I walked slowly down the aisle of the scarlet train engine. Through sliding compartment doors I saw groups of students, happy, hugging, smiling; absently, I remember wondering if I could ever have friends. If anyone could ever penetrate my walls.
As I walked the length of the train, I thought about my future, or lack thereof. I didn't have strong feelings towards one House or the other. I didn't feel much loyalty to anything; did that make me a Slytherin? But I was vain enough not to consider myself a bad person; perhaps I was a Hufflepuff - Daphne would be proud. An uncaring, apathic Hufflepuff? A part of my mind scoffed at the idea. No, but surely - could I maybe be a Ravenclaw? I had read all my textbooks out of boredom; I could already do Wingardium Leviosa and other simple spells. Gryffindor - there was a place I knew I wasn't going. I didn't believe in anything. I didn't stand for anything.
My train of thought ended abruptly as the train itself started moving and I fell backwards, causing whatever was behind me to let out a strangled howl, sounding like the kitten Daphne once severed a paw off of. Slowly turning around, I came face to face with the most frightening thing I had ever seen.
It had a flat nose, straight brown hair, and brown eyes. It was also my sister's best friend - Pansy Parkinson. She was a Slytherin, like my sister, and she too rejoiced in people's pain; however, while Daphne took pleasure in their physical suffering, Pansy was much more the one for mental anguish.
Saying Pansy was frightening in appearance was, honestly, an overstatement. She was quite possibly one of the prettier third years, well-developped with curves in all the right places and shiny brown hair down to her shoulders. But she exuded an air of superiority and distain that I had always found frightening.
She and Daphne had been playmates since a young age - 'play' being a generous word for torture, trapping garden gnomes in cages, trampling their holes, and breaking their fingers one by one. The two of them made me feel sick.
'Astoria.' Pansy's voice grated like a banshee trying to sing.
'Yes?' I met her gaze blankly.
'You ran into me.' As if I didn't know that.
'Yes, I did,' I responded stupidly, hoping to get her riled up, secretly knowing it was a bad idea.
'Leave me alone, then, you dumb idiot.' She reached forward and grabbed onto my ebony hair.
'Creative insult, Pansy,' drawled a smooth voice from the compartment to our left. 'But I think we've progressed a bit since first year, don't you?'
By the reddening of Pansy's, and beside her, Daphne's cheeks, I knew without looking whose voice it must be. As soon as she heard the person speak, her hold on my hair loosened. Lucky for that, too, since I would have surely gotten a bald spot from how tight she was holding my hair.
'Draco,' Pansy immediately simpered, releasing my hair, 'How was your summer? You must have gone to the beach, you're looking very tan.'
Malfoy and I snorted in unison. He was quite possibly the palest person I had ever seen. He glanced in my direction, then looked away dismissively.
'I spent the entire time in our Manor in Iceland, in fact,' he lied smoothly - I had always been gifted at detecting lies. 'You two ladies must really join me there sometime,' he remarked sarcastically. However, the sarcasm was lost on my sister and her friend.
Pansy and Daphne were looking at him in a way that could only be described as worshipful. If I hadn't been so afraid of the two of them, I surely would have laughed.
'Who's the first year, anyway?' he asked casually. I opened my mouth to speak, but a look from my elder sister quieted me at once.
'No one,' she answered quickly. Too quickly for the blonde boy to believe it.
'Seems odd - she has the exact same facial structure as you do, Greengrass. I'd say she must be a relation.' He turned inside the compartment to face his companions. 'Hey, Crabbe, does your uncle have two children?'
I almost smiled as my brute of a cousin spoke; here was the only member of my family I could stand, the one person who I had ever shown emotion to in my life and responded in kind.
'Yeah, my cousin Astoria's starting this year.' Vincent lumbered over to the compartment door slowly and peered out at me. 'Astoria! Aren't you looking all grown up. Been forever, huh?'
Pansy, Daphne, and Malfoy's jaws dropped; it was evident that they had never seen him talk in full sentences, let alone three in a row, before. But everyone just needs to be drawn out of their shell, believed in, for once in their life.
'Greengrass, Parkinson, scram,' Malfoy commanded. They obeyed quickly. I thought about it objectively and came to the conclusion that I would have, too, had a Malfoy spoken to me like that.
But, somehow, surprisingly, Vincent ushered me into their compartment. I looked around, from Malfoy to my cousin to the giant sitting in the corner, snoring. Malfoy was looking from Vincent to me, from me to Vincent. Vincent just grinned at me stupidly.
'Well...' Malfoy said reluctantly, 'I didn't think I'd ever say this, but any friend of Crabbe's is a friend of mine. Draco Malfoy.'
He extended his pale hand for me to shake.
I reached mine out to meet his.
The train stopped.
Then everything went dark.