- Chapter 2 -

As weeks passed and spring drew closer, the incident had almost completely vanished from Astoria's mind. In parts this may have been due to the vast amount of school work that had kept her more than busy since, but she too had done her best to keep herself from thinking about it.

The girl was now enjoying the last hours of the weekend in her favourite spot around Hogwarts Castle. She was lying on a large spur wall six feet above the ground at the foot of West Tower. The massive stones released the heat they had gathered throughout the day, making Astoria feel sheltered and cosy. Dusk was about to fall and the last rays of sunlight dimly lit the surroundings. Her view wandered casually across the glimmering lake surface, then over to the Quidditch Pitch further off and along the edge of the Forbidden Forest before she closed her eyes in relaxation.

When she opened them again minutes later, she jumped in fright – she had gotten company. An exhausted-looking Draco Malfoy had climbed up to her. He seemed desperate, harassed and distressed all at the same time, but the very moment he let his back rest on the warm stone wall, much of the tension and angst seemed to slip from him. Still Astoria could not help but notice that he was completely run down. She had aided him before, and she would do so again, even though she knew that he was way too proud to ask for it.

So there they lay gazing at the stars for what seemed like an eternity until, finally, Draco spoke.

"I can't tell you," he stated.

Ever since that night, he felt like he owed her something, an explanation in the least. She had saved him from greater trouble and never asked for anything in return. Unlike most of the girls he knew, she had not even been curious to know what he had gotten himself into – a trait he deeply appreciated.

"It's alright," she assured.

Moments of silence followed before Draco suddenly sat up, one hand reaching for the other hand's wrist, and unbuttoned the cuff of his white shirt. He hesitated for a moment before slowly rolling up the long sleeve, exposing his inner forearm. In the darkness, Astoria could only vaguely guess the outlines of the mark on his skin, but in fact there was no doubt. Now she knew.