DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter
He saw her for the first time alone in the Janus Thickey ward.
His mother was now a permanent resident there, and Draco visited her faithfully every day. A month ago, Narcissa Malfoy had been alone in the street; someone, some hate-filled wizard, who had no doubt suffered a great deal in the war, had seen his chance for revenge against Voldemort's most prominent followers.
Narcissa had not recovered fully from whatever combination of hexes had been cast at her; she never would. Draco was forced to watch her slowly deteriorate, lying in one of the beds within the ward. She was not a woman of inaction, and he knew her well enough to know that never being allowed to rise, or walk, or do anything strenuous again would eventually kill her.
But for now, she was very much alive, although weakening, and not likely to leave anytime soon.
There was an afternoon, when he was walking to the ward, where Draco, who was lost in thought, looked up suddenly and saw a Healer, walking towards him with a girl on her arm. The girl didn't seem to be unable to walk; her step was quite sure, but still she clung to the Healer's arm and her eyes were on the ground.
She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
He stood and looked for a moment; took in her dark hair, her pale face, her mouth, her nose, everything except her eyes, which she refused to lift. Then his mind returned to him and he hurried for his mother's bedside.
But he could not get the girl out of his mind. He'd seen a lot of girls, but none had ever captured him quite like this one. When he left the ward later to let his mother rest, he was thinking of her. When he went to sleep that night, he worried for his mother, but he was thinking about the girl too. When he went back in the morning he could not help searching around for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Draco did not forget the girl, and he was always looking for her.
It was nearly a month before he saw her again. During that time, his mother had, miraculously enough, grown no worse. She had not grown any better, and so Draco was still visiting her daily. He told himself that he was not visiting longer hours just to catch a glimpse of the girl, because that would be ridiculous.
When he saw her, it was as if no time had passed, as if he were still under the same spell; she was sitting on her own near the door of the ward, looking hard at her hands.
He went to her.
He stood in front of her for a long time, and she remained still, staring at her hands.
Then suddenly she looked up. Her eyes were blue, and very murky; they seemed to look straight through him rather than at him. "Who's there?" she asked. "Who's that?"
She's blind, he realized. She can't see me.
"My name is Draco," he answered. "Draco Malfoy."
"Draco Malfoy," she said, as if to see how the name sounded in her voice...it sounded different...she had a soft diction that was quite unusual. "Your mother is here, isn't she?"
"Yes," said Draco quietly. "She is."
"I have heard them talking about her," said the girl softly. "I have heard you, speaking to her."
"Who are you?" Draco asked her.
"I'm Astoria," she said.
Draco wondered why the name rang a bell to him, but only for a moment.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"I can't see," she answered simply.
Draco had met blind wizards before. Often there was no way for them to regain their vision, but they weren't locked up in the Janus Thickey ward. "Is that all?" he asked.
"No," she said, very quietly. "But you can see the other reason, can't you?"
Draco had seen her walk; all her limbs were in working order, and she looked completely healthy.
"No," he said, "I can't."
"Can't you?" she said. "Ah, you are very kind."
"What do you mean, kind?"
"Kind not to tell me the truth. I am blind, Draco Malfoy, but you need not fear sparing me. I already know the truth."
Draco was mystified, but even more enchanted than he'd been before he'd heard Astoria speak. He found that her very voice and trick of speech were as lovely to him as her person.
"Are you still there?" she asked, after a moment.
"Yes," said Draco.
"Why?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly.
She made a sudden movement with her hands.
"Leave me, please," she said - not in a commanding tone, but a pleading one.
Draco blinked, feeling rather as if cold water had been dashed on him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'll go."
It was Astoria's face and Astoria's voice that he saw and heard in his dreams; he was infatuated with her. But he didn't ask about her, because she hadn't seemed to want him there; and he did not see her again for about three days.
Then one of the Healers came to him during one of his visits with Narcissa and told him that Astoria was looking for him.
He followed the Healer gladly, once his mother was sleeping, and found Astoria alone once again, dressed in pale pink robes this time. Her hair had been braided away from her face, and Draco found himself drinking her in, her profile, her cheek, her neck.
"Astoria, Mr. Malfoy is here," said the Healer, and left.
Astoria got to her feet.
"Hello," she said.
"Hello."
"You came back," she said softly.
"Yes," said Draco.
"Why?"
"Well, you asked," he said. "Besides, I wanted to see you."
"Why did you want to see me?"
Draco was stumped as to how to answer this question.
"You're hard to forget," he answered after a moment.
She laughed humorlessly.
"I know that," she said. "It doesn't explain why you wanted to come back. It couldn't be because of our scintillating conversation."
Draco sat down opposite her. "I'm sitting now," he said. "You don't have to stand."
Astoria sank back into her chair, after feeling for it to make sure it was there. Then she sat silently, as if waiting for him to say something; but he was at a loss. It was enough for him just to look at her; it was not enough for her, and he knew he had to say something.
"How long have you been here?" he asked.
"Since I was eleven years old," said Astoria.
"You were never at Hogwarts, then?"
"How could I go?" she said sadly. "I can't see. I couldn't do the work or find my way around."
"When did you...become blind?"
"I was six," said Astoria softly. "We were playing, my older sister and I. And her magic backfired. And I was the one that got blinded."
"I'm sorry," said Draco.
Astoria smiled.
"Thank you," she said.
Draco had not yet seen her smile, and it is needless to say that it made her only more lovely.
"You're welcome," he said.
Another silence fell.
"I welcome your company," said Astoria, after a moment. "I rarely have any. But you will understand if I am wondering why you are here."
Draco leaned back in his chair. "How much can you see?" he asked.
"I can see colors," said Astoria. "But that is all. I can't even make out shapes. I can tell when it is day and when it's night."
"Do you go outside?" he asked.
"Only if one of the Healers wants to take me," she said. "That is rare; they have other things to do, you see."
"Do you like it?"
"Yes," she said. "It's so much brighter, and it smells lovely, and you can hear so many more things...I don't think about it, though."
"Why not?"
"What is the point of longing for something that you cannot have?"
"But you can," said Draco. "I mean, if there was someone to take you."
"There never is, Draco Malfoy."
"There's me," he said.
She turned her face to him, her expression uncertain. "Really? I mean, you'd like to?"
"Yes, I would," said Draco. "If it's allowed, I mean, and if you want to."
"Of course I want to," said Astoria, standing up again. She looked as if she could hardly believe what she was hearing. She stretched out her hand, and she looked so happy and trusting it almost took his breath away. He was only taking her outside, after all.
He stood up and took her hand, much smaller and whiter and softer than his was, and tucked it into his arm. A smile crossed her face.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
She nodded, and he began to walk. He was surprised at how easily Astoria walked; she didn't once falter, didn't seem to be afraid that she was going to trip. He kept his eyes on the floor in front of them, again marvelling at the amount of trust she showed in him.
"Mr. Malfoy!" one of the Healers called after him, as he left the ward. "I hope you don't plan on leaving the hospital!"
"Of course not," Draco answered. "We're only going to the garden. Is that all right?"
"Yes," said the woman, without hesitation. "You know your way?"
"Yes," said Draco, who had visited the garden before, "I do. You're sure this is all right?"
The Healer nodded. "As long as you don't take her out of the hospital and you bring her back, it's just fine."
The look on Astoria's face when they got into the garden was enough to make Draco's heart melt faster than ice cream in the sun. It was, fortunately, a sunny day, and she tilted her head up and closed her blank eyes.
"It's so lovely," she said, enraptured. "Can you hear all the noises, Draco Malfoy? Can you hear the birds? And the leaves, rubbing together in the wind? Can you smell the flowers and the water and the air?"
Draco heard and felt, but it is difficult to say if he was paying attention to the birds and the flowers.
Astoria pulled her hand out of his arm and tucked it into his hand instead. "Can you spin me?" she begged him. "Please? I promise I won't fall."
"It's all right if you fall," he said. "I can catch you."
She smiled again, this time almost radiantly. Draco lifted her hand and began to spin her in a circle until she stumbled, breathless; he caught her by the hands and watched her face as she stood panting. Her eyes were closed, but her pale face was flushed heavily and she was laughing a little.
He'd never seen anything quite so beautiful.
"I can feel you watching me, Draco Malfoy," said Astoria, after some time had passed this way. She had stopped panting, and she wasn't laughing anymore. She tugged one of her arms away from him and turned so that she was facing the same direction he was. "Please, don't."
"Astoria -"
"Can we go back inside?" she said, so softly he hardly heard her.
"Don't you like it out here?" Draco asked, feeling crestfallen. "I thought you wanted -"
"I did - but not with you, Draco Malfoy, not with you! Anyone but you!"
"Why?" asked Draco, completely thunderstruck, and almost heartbroken.
"I can stand other people looking at me," said Astoria. "People that I don't care about...but not you."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't!" Astoria cried. Draco saw that there were tears in her eyes. "I know that you're trying to be kind, but it only makes it worse! It would be better if you told me outright how ugly I am."
"If I told you...what?"
"I said, don't," said Astoria, with a little sob. "I know what I am, Draco Malfoy. My parents have told me since I was a child. That is why I am here, instead of in their care. They did not want such a disgrace on their hands. They were my mirror, since I could not see one. I know the truth, and I have cared for you since I heard your voice, reading to your mother in her bed, and when you spoke to me it was too...too much…and I thought..."
She began to cry, but very quietly, pressing her lips together so that she made as little sound as possible.
"It was a mistake," she whispered.
Draco felt staggered.
"Astoria," he said, taking her hands and making her face him, "let me be your mirror, then. I do not know what you were like as a child, but you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, if not the most."
"Please don't," she said, dropping her head so that her hair covered her face.
"I mean it!" Draco cried. "I wish there were a way to make you believe me. Has any of the Healers ever said you are ugly?"
"They say nothing," Astoria answered. "They cannot, Draco. But you...you can tell me the truth."
"I did," said Draco quietly. "I am. You are beautiful."
She had stopped crying. She was standing very still.
"Do you...can you mean that?"
"I can," he said. "Can you believe me?"
"I don't know," she said, after a moment. "I want to…"
"Then do," said Draco, pulling her closer. "Trust me, Astoria."
She leaned her head against my chest.
"I'm starting to, Draco Malfoy."
Assignment: Write about someone who cannot see their own beauty, be it inner beauty or outer beauty.
Word Prompt used: Mirror
