Astoria looked up impassively when an owl she didn't recognise dropped a pristine envelope in front of her plate at breakfast the following Tuesday.
She finished her eggs and went to open it, scoffing when Bridget fearfully smacked her hands away. "What on earth-,"
"You have to perform the spell that Dumbledore told us about," her friend insisted, "What if it's cursed?"
Astoria wanted to roll her eyes. For Merlin's sake, she was a pureblooded fifteen year old girl. She was a Slytherin. Her family was important, rich, well connected, powerful and, most importantly, neutral. No dark wizard would ever dare to curse her or her sister, but the incident with Katie Bell over the weekend had everybody – everybody but her, it seemed – in a tizz.
"Honestly, Bridget, who'd want to curse me?" she asked, snatching back her letter.
"I can think of a few people," Pansy groused into her tea, scowling at Astoria through puffy, red eyes. It was also no secret that Draco had ended their 'relationship' over the weekend, claiming he had too much to think about to waste time on a silly dalliance with the likes of her, and Pansy was more than a little bitter about it.
Along the table, Theo Nott raised an eyebrow and grinned, proverbial spoon in hand. "Speak up, Pansy; we can't hear you over all your misery."
"Fuck off," Pansy hissed, "This is all her fault." The older girl stood up, pointing an accusing finger in Astoria's direction. "He broke up with me because he fancies her."
The table went deadly silent. Astoria went a shade paler, but managed to keep her composure. "And Malfoy told you that, did he?"
Pansy bitterly shook her head. "He didn't have to," she sniffed, "It's obvious. You're always with him, whispering."
"Pansy," Daphne interjected timidly, "It's not really Astoria's fault, is it? Come on, sit down." She glanced apologetically at her sister, pulling Pansy back onto the bench.
Astoria swallowed, letting out a discrete sigh of relief. She wasn't particularly afraid of Pansy, but she didn't want her for an enemy. She turned her attention back to her letter, using a clean knife to open the envelope.
"Daph," she called, "It's from mother."
...
"I can't believe we have to go to this thing," Astoria moaned, shoving the letter back into her pocket. "As if Parkinson hasn't got it in enough for me already, now I have to go to her ex-boyfriend's Christmas ball."
Daph looped her arm through her sisters, squeezing her hand supportively as they strolled through the corridors. They'd both decided to miss their first class of the day in favour of a sisterly walk, but luckily enough the two looked old enough that their presence amongst the groups of seventh years – who did, in fact, currently have a free period – went unnoticed.
"Luckily for us, the boys will be there," Daphne said, and Astoria smiled at the thought.
Their four brothers – Eryx, who was eighteen; Nikos, who was twenty; Leandro, who was twenty two; and Caesare, who was twenty six – had attended Durmstrang, but their mother's health had turned for the worst in the months before Daphne had started school and so it had been decided that the girls would attend Hogwarts instead.
"Shit," Astoria hissed, nudging Daphne at the sight of the approaching boy. She gave him a tight smile and nodded in greeting. "Marcus."
Cormac narrowed his eyes at her, grinning in a devious way as he pretended to check his watch. "Ah, the Greengrass sisters. Shouldn't you two be in class?"
Daphne sneered at him. "Piss off and be bitter somewhere else, Belby."
"Twenty points from Slytherin," Marcus replied cheerfully, "For skipping class. Come on, let's take you back." He slung an arm around their shoulders. "Where should you be, blondie?"
Daphne scowled. "Anywhere that's away from you will do."
He wasn't moved.
"Transfiguration," she finally muttered, clenching her jaw when he applied a little pressure to her shoulders.
"Come on, then," he said, "Let's take you first."
...
Draco looked up as the door to the Transfiguration classroom opened, frowning when Marcus Belby stepped in, closely followed by a sullen looking Daphne and an emotionless Astoria.
"Professor McGonagall?" Belby greeted, "I'm sorry for interrupting your class, but I found these two," he jerked his head at Daphne and Astoria, "Lurking around near the greenhouses. I think one of them should be in here?"
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Obviously, you twit." She glanced at her sister. "I'll see you later."
Astoria caught Draco's eye and couldn't fight the smile that pulled at her lips. He smirked and waggled his fingers, ignoring Pansy's growl of irritation from three seats away.
McGonagall waved Daphne to her seat, not wanting to interrupt the lesson further by doling out a punishment then and there. "Thank you, Mr Belby. I trust you can see Miss Greengrass to her class?"
"Of course, Professor."
Astoria rolled her eyes. "Merlin, you're pathetic," she commented, scoffing in disgust: house rivalry was one thing, but for a seventh year to actively go out of their way to return two younger classmen to the subjects they were avoiding was downright sad.
"You wound me," Marcus said with a groan, clutching his heart. "Come on."
She glowered up at him, but was powerless to argue when he nudged her from the room.
...
Astoria looked up from her Potions homework warily as Pansy sat down across from her.
"Are you lost?" Astoria asked her, glancing around to double check that this was indeed the library. "I didn't think you even knew where the library was."
Pansy narrowed her eyes. "I know exactly where I am, thank you."
Astoria fought the urge to roll her eyes, shaking her head slightly as she glanced back down at her homework. "Can't it wait?"
"No, it can't. You and Belby looked pretty cosy earlier," Pansy said, pursing her lips. "Got him on the back burner, have you? You just want them all, don't you? Even Blaise and Theo won't stop talking about you." She flicked her sleek brown hair away from her face and drummed her manicured fingernails on the tabletop.
It was a shame that Pansy was such a horrible person, Astoria thought; otherwise she would have been strikingly beautiful. Pansy had a fair skin tone and deep blue eyes, with dark brown hair that reached to her chest and very pronounced features. Her cheekbones were high, her jaw strong and square, her mouth wide and sulky, and when she smiled her dimples were the most adorable thing. Even her nose – which some of the ill-bred students thought 'pug-like' – complimented her face; it was the Parkinson nose, and Pansy was proud of it, regardless of whether others liked it or not. She was well groomed, well dressed and always looked impeccably made-up. Yes, Pansy Parkinson was remarkably pretty, but her personality made her ugly, almost repulsive. She was unpleasant, calculating, ruthless in pursuit of her ambitions and unnecessarily cruel, a manifestation of the worst of the Slytherin traits.
"I don't care who you shag, Astoria, really," the girl herself was saying, "I just can't understand why Draco is so fascinated with you. I mean, he's Draco Malfoy. He's gorgeous and rich and well-connected and just amazing in bed, and I can't see why he'd want you over me. You're pretty enough, I suppose, even if you are horribly thin. I can see why people might fancy you. Your hair's nice, and your clothes are acceptable, and you always seem perfectly composed – which I fucking despise, by the way, but you're nothing compared to me. You're too cold and too serious and too tall and too boring. And, anyway, I'm Pansy Parkinson, for crying out loud-,"
"What do you want, Pansy?" Astoria interrupted her, "I've got homework to do."
"Shut up," Pansy said rudely, holding up a finger, "I'm talking now." The older girl grinned as Astoria's eyes tightened with irritation. But Astoria remained quiet; gone was the red eyed Pansy Parkinson from breakfast, and her place was the sly, doe-eyed bitch who liked to think she was the Queen of the World. "Who would want you when they could have me?"
Astoria raised an eyebrow. "This all seems dreadfully petty, Pansy."
Pansy rolled her eyes, but leaned forwards, as if to tell a secret. "Stay away from Draco," she replied softly, smiling across at Astoria. "This isn't a threat, Astoria, this is a promise. If you go near him I will make your life a living hell. He's mine. This little break up is only temporary. You'll only damage your own reputation if you shag him, what with him being engaged to me and all."
"You're lying," Astoria said, but her confidence wavered. "You're not engaged. Malfoy would never marry you."
"Arranged marriage, darling," Pansy assured her, raising her left hand and showing the younger girl the thin band on her ring finger. "Signed and sealed and can only be broken by my father. I wanted it to be a secret until Christmas, but what with you making moon eyes at him at every opportunity I thought I should let you know."
Astoria shrugged. "What would I care if Malfoy was getting married?"
"Because you fancy him," Pansy replied, smirking when Astoria flushed, "Ah, our little Ice Princess, melting at last. It'd be endearing if it wasn't so tragic."
Gritting her teeth, Astoria looked away, ignoring Pansy as she stood up and sauntered away.
"You weren't at dinner."
Astoria shrugged. "Wasn't hungry."
"You haven't been at meals for three days," Draco pointed out, and Astoria sighed.
"Wasn't hungry then, either."
Draco reached for her, but she shook her head and moved out of reach. "Don't," she said quietly, "I don't have the energy for this."
"People think you're hiding from Pansy," he pointed out, and she scoffed.
There had only been a few people present in the library when Pansy had warned her off, but the entire school had witnessed Pansy blaming her for their break up.
"Let them."
"She won't bother you again," Draco offered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I told her that you had nothing to do with me and her breaking up. I told her to apologise to you."
"Because Pansy Parkinson always does as she's told," Astoria muttered sardonically, "You've probably just made things worse."
Draco sighed. "Pansy will apologise because if she doesn't her sexual preferences will become public knowledge." He exchanged a glance with Astoria. "And, believe me; she does not want that to happen."
Astoria gave him a small smile. "Yeah, nobody wants to be known as the up-the-butt girl."
"How did you know?!" Draco demanded, outraged that she already knew about one of the few pieces of leverage he had over Pansy sodding Parkinson.
She looked up and laughed a little when she found him gaping at her. "Call it an educated guess. Parkinson's a prim little control freak – figures that she'd like it up the arse." Astoria eyed him warily, then. "And if you indulged her then more fool you. You'll forever be known as the boy who stuck his-,"
"I get the point," Draco muttered, shaking his head. "And, for the record, I didn't indulge her. Much."
"Much," Astoria repeated, amused. "Look, Malfoy, about this ball..."
"Please come," Draco interrupted, "Come on, go with me. It'll be a laugh. Zabini's coming, and Nott, and-,"
"Pansy," she added unhelpfully, studying his expression.
Draco huffed. "She's going as Terry Higgs' date, you know, the seventh year who told her off the other day? She'll be occupied all night so we'll be free to enjoy ourselves."
Astoria scoffed. "Have you heard yourself? Who cares what Pansy thinks? Who cares if she has a date?"
"I can't say anything right, can I?"
"Maybe you should stop trying," she advised coolly, "Especially since your fiancé hates me."
To his credit, Draco didn't deny it. "It's not like I want to be engaged to her," he said, "Father organised the marriage contract with her father over the summer. I don't like her, or anything."
"You've slept with her," Astoria pointed out, picking at her nails and turning away from him. "You're going to be marrying her eventually, whether you want to or not. It's changes things."
"How? How does it change things, Astoria? It doesn't change the way I feel about you."
She whipped around, glaring at him. "Don't. You're already engaged to another girl – another girl who despises me. Anything that happened between you and I would ruin me, Malfoy. There's nothing left for us. Just leave me alone."
"Merlin's tits, Astoria!" Draco exclaimed, neither knowing nor caring if anyone had heard him, "What do you want from me?"
She narrowed her eyes. "I don't want anything from you."
"You know, I think I'll ask Tracey if I can escort her to my mother's Ball, instead," he remarked snidely, "At least she'll be a bit more grateful for my attentions."
"Meaning what?" Astoria scoffed, "I should count myself lucky that the fantastic Draco Malfoy deigned to ask me out? Hardly."
Draco glowered down at her and she stared coldly back. "You're such a bitch," he said, gritting his teeth when she smiled coldly.
"Ouch."
"I don't know why I bother!" Draco snapped, "You're not even nice to me."
She held his gaze, her eyebrow twitching. "You're not nice to anyone." Astoria turned away from him, leaning on the rail. Bit of a bad place for an argument, she thought, on top of the Astronomy tower.
"I can't be arsed with this."
"Go then," she said, not bothering to look back at him, "Run back to Pansy and your bloody father and your bloody stupid marriage contract."
He went still, then, rage bubbling through him. Merlin, how did she do this to him?! "You don't know anything about my father, Greengrass. Watch your mouth."
"Or what?" Astoria asked, turning back to look at him, "Getting angry at the little fifth year, Malfoy?"
Draco was seething. Never before had anybody got him so wound up, except maybe Potter, but that was a different type of anger. He loathed Potter, despised the very ground he walked on, but this? This was the kind of fury that electrified his skin and set his nerve endings on fire. He glared at her for a moment, and then roughly captured her lips in a bruising kiss.
She tried to shove him away, but her fighting quickly turned to passion, her moans of protest fading into moans of want. She clawed at his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Draco lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her over to the closest wall.
Pressing her up against it, he shifted, settling himself more comfortably between her thighs, and she groaned softly when his hips bucked against hers. Astoria pulled off his robe and allowed him to shuck hers down her arms, arching her back and moaning again when Draco palmed her breast over her clothes.
He pulled away from her, breathless and aroused as hell. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes filled with lust, and she immediately yanked his face back to hers, demanding more.
Draco's hands delved beneath her skirt, cupping her backside and holding her more firmly. He was pleased with her underwear – lace, he guessed, but they covered her cheeks. Sexy but modest – and she, too, seemed pleased with this development, wiggling her hips and grinding her pelvis against his.
There were footsteps on the stairs and the two shared a panicked glance.
Astoria muttered a haste disillusionment charm, hoping that she'd concentrated enough for it to be effective since her wand was buried in her robes about four feet away.
He silently lowered her to the floor, all the while maintaining a hold on her hand to ensure that he was also covered by the charm, and they rolled their eyes when they realised it was just Longbottom on his last patrol before the term ended.
Bumbling fool probably wouldn't have even noticed them even if they'd been stark naked and writhing around on the floor in full view.
He left quickly, leaving a tense silence stretching between Draco and Astoria. She pulled him back to the railing, pointing up into the sky. "Look; the sunset."
"Beautiful," he commented, pulling her into his arms again and hugging her from behind.
When she glanced back at him, he wasn't looking at the sky.
"Why were you trying to crash Slughorn's Christmas party?" Zabini asked him curiously, his distaste evident. "Who would willingly sacrifice a perfectly decent Thursday evening to spend with that oaf?"
Draco shrugged. Crashing Slughorn's party had never been the plan.
And the Vanishing Cabinet was still fucking broken.
He didn't see Astoria again until they were on the train back to London. She was, of course, sitting in the Slytherin compartment, staring out of the window at the snow covered Scottish countryside.
Her long hair had been straightened and Draco was surprised by how long it was, past her waist and trailing against her lower back. She was leaning against the window, her eyes closed, having apparently fallen asleep.
He watched her for a while, enchanted by the image of her sleeping. He'd never seen her so relaxed, not even when she was lounging in her casual clothes in the common room.
"Ouch!" An elbow to his ribs distracted him and he glanced at his assaulter, frowning when he realised it was Daphne.
"Stare much?"
Draco shrugged and didn't reply, but let out a pained hiss when Daphne suddenly squeezed his thigh, digging her nails in. "Back off, Malfoy," Daphne muttered venomously, "You're engaged whether you like it or not. You'll only end up hurting Astoria in the long run. Leave her alone."
"I can do what I like," he said testily, shoving her hand away from his leg, "Astoria is a big girl, she can make her own decisions."
"She's my sister," Daphne insisted, "She's only fifteen and she can do a lot better than you. So back off."
She was changing into her Christmas robes when her mother knocked on her bedroom door, a small package clutched in her long fingers.
"Astoria?"
Astoria turned from her jewellery chest and looked up at her mother, glancing down at the silver-wrapped box. "Mother?"
Cassandra Greengrass held out the box. "One of the Malfoy owls delivered this after breakfast. It is addressed to you."
Her mother's eyes were suspicious, and Astoria looked away. "I've been tutoring Draco for a while," she admitted, "Just a thank you gift, I am sure."
"He is engaged to the Parkinson girl, Astoria," her mother said quietly, "Do not be taken in by his charms."
Astoria took the package and slowly pulled off the wrapping paper, avoiding her mother's gaze. When a velvet box was revealed, her mother exhaled and folded her arms. "Open it."
Dutifully, Astoria undid the clasp on the box. Nestled inside amongst the silk cushioning was another silver charm for her bracelet. This time, it was a small flower with lilac petals. She gently lifted it out and hooked it onto her bracelet, and her mother nodded approvingly, satisfied that the gift was not inappropriate in tenure.
"Very pretty," Cassandra said, lifting Astoria's wrist to get a closer look at the bracelet. "You must write to the boy and thank him."
Astoria nodded. "Yes, mother."
Cassandra smiled at her daughter and left the room, and when the door closed behind her, Astoria pulled back the silk cushioning in the box. There, concealed beneath the gift, was a small folded note.
She opened it, holding her breath as she read.
"Daisies represent innocence.
Do you know what Lilacs symbolise?
DM"
He sipped slowly from his champagne flute, ignoring Tracey's prattling and staring out across the ballroom.
Astoria wasn't here yet and he was getting agitated. She'd written him a short note of gratitude after receiving his gift, but nothing that inferred that she'd figured out the message of the Lilac. He'd seen her name, along with those of her five siblings, on the RSVP list, but it was almost nine thirty and he'd yet to see any of the Greengrass family.
And then Theo whistled and he heard Daphne's voice, and Draco stiffened.
"Daphne."
Daphne, for her part, narrowed her eyes at him. "Malfoy."
...
He caught sight of her later, dancing in the arms of a thickly-built wizard, smiling like she was the happiest creature in the world.
He was rendered momentarily speechless by her gown, and swallowed thickly as he regained his composure. The dress – a figure hugging, silky black halter-neck - was high at the front, displaying her collarbone but covering the majority of her chest. The sides of her breasts were on display, and yet not indecently so; it was the back of the dress that held his attention. From the curve of her spine to her neck, her back was entirely bare, and her creamy skin was incredibly tormenting.
The gown clung to her slender frame, accentuating the curve of her waist, the flare of her bottom, the devastating length of her legs. Her dark hair had been pulled away from her face and captured in pins, anchored atop her head in a halo of curls. Covering her hands were silver gloves, fastened with black pearl buttons at her wrists.
Her eyes had been thickly outlined and her face painted, and when she smiled, Draco went limp. He tried and failed not to feel jealous that she was dancing with another man whilst looking like that, but when he could take it no longer, he interrupted their dance.
"May I cut in?"
Astoria stiffened a little, but social etiquette demanded she accept her new partner. "Malfoy."
Her previous partner bowed at Draco, and Astoria placed her hand in his. Draco immediately pulled her close, continuing the dance he had halted. "You came."
She let out a small breath and glanced up at him. "Yes," she said quietly.
"You look beautiful."
Astoria said nothing.
"Who was that?" Draco asked, jerking his head in the direction that her previous partner had gone.
"My brother Nikos," Astoria murmured, smiling a little when she was twirled.
Draco nodded, satisfied with her answer. "Did you like my gift?"
In response, Astoria shook her left wrist a little, and the two charms jangled pleasantly. "Yes, thank you."
"And the lilac...?"
He was shocked to notice her answering frown. "It's not appropriate," she said, her tone cool as she looked anywhere but into his eyes. "You're engaged. If Pansy knew..."
She jumped a little when his voice was suddenly at her ear, urgent and pleading. "But Pansy doesn't know, Astoria. Nobody knows except you and me."
"And that's my role, is it?" Astoria hissed bitterly, deliberately stepping on his foot, "The dirty little mistress?"
He faltered a little. "Of course not..."
Astoria tilted her head, her jaw set and her gaze stony. "Stop pursuing me, Malfoy."
"I can't."
"Why not?" Astoria bit out, feeling eyes burning into her back, "They're all watching. Please, don't..."
"I want you," he admitted softly, "Much more than I should."
The music changed into a slower number and he tightened his grip on her, pressing their torsos together. She was taller than usual in her heels and was only a couple of inches short of his own height. One of his hands crept up her back and she shivered in spite of herself. "Stop it, Malfoy. It's not right."
His voice lowered to a whisper. "I'm in love with you."
She was speechless for a moment and then froze, staring at something over his shoulder.
The music stopped, the animated voices of the spectators became hushed, and Draco turned, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as the Dark Lord casually took his place amongst the guests.
He'd known of the Dark Lord's presence in his home, of course, but he hadn't expected him to appear at the Christmas ball. The Dark Lord seemed to have dressed especially for the event, wearing a well tailored black suit and a black tie. He looked imposing and dangerous and Draco could only watch as some of the more nervy guests began to filter out of the room.
For their credit, the declared-neutral pureblooded families held their ground, their stances relaxed in spite of their wary eyes.
Shooting a look at his mother, who seemed just about ready to die of shame, Draco tugged Astoria behind him, wincing when the movement drew Voldemort's eye.
The Dark Lord raised his hand, calling for the music to continue, and the couples on the dance floor reluctantly resumed their waltz. Voldemort walked slowly towards Draco and Astoria, his face impassive as the dancers hastily cleared a path for him.
Upon reaching the two, Voldemort smiled.
"I do not believe I have had the pleasure of being introduced to your dance partner, Draco."
Draco flinched. "My Lord, this is Astoria Greengrass." He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, but Astoria squeezed his hand. "Astoria, this is the Dark Lord."
Astoria wordlessly held out her hand – as was the custom – and the Dark Lord raised it to his mouth, pressing a cold kiss to the back of her gloved palm. Bravely meeting his eyes, Astoria forced a small smile. "It is a pleasure, sir," she said quietly, uncomfortably aware that everyone in the room was now staring at her.
Voldemort smirked. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Greengrass." Draco's jaw clenched as the Dark Lord looked appreciatively at Astoria's attire. "Would I be correct in assuming that you are Hektor's daughter?"
Astoria nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Would you care to dance, Miss Greengrass?" He extended a hand and bowed a little.
Knowing she dared not refuse, and yet altogether wishing that she could, Astoria placed her palm in his. Draco bowed shallowly to the Dark Lord and stepped away, watching anxiously as Astoria was swept into the dancing crowd.
"Are you afraid?" Voldemort asked her quietly, and Astoria glanced up at him.
"A little," she admitted, breathing a discrete sigh of relief when he laughed heartily.
He grinned down at her. "My reputation precedes me, I see." He seemed pleased by this, and they were silent for a moment, until he spoke again. "You are an exquisite dancer, Miss Greengrass."
"Thank you, sir."
"Well taught, no doubt, by your mother." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Young Draco desires you."
She didn't reply.
"And yet," Voldemort went on, "You are not his fiancé."
"No," Astoria murmured in agreement. "Draco and I are just friends."
He laughed again, but the sound was harsher, this time. "Nonsense," he said, "Any fool can see how he cares for you."
"And yet, I am not his fiancé," she repeated, flinching as she realised her misstep.
"You are very brave, Miss Greengrass," Voldemort observed, "How very foolish bravery is, in the grand scheme of things. Bravery will not win you a Malfoy, nor will honour, or decency. Malfoys are creatures of bad faith; slippery, deceitful, inconsistent beings that disappoint at every turn."
Astoria looked away, and Voldemort lifted her chin with one of his long fingers, raising her face to look into her eyes. "Bravery is a trait I value, Miss Greengrass. You would be of use to me."
"Forgive me, sir, my father-"
"Is a declared neutral, yes, yes," Voldemort said impatiently, his eyes flaring with frustration, and then another emotion settled there, and Astoria almost recoiled. "But I spoke of myself, not of my cause. A creature with bravery such as yours and the beauty to match..." His eyes swept over her again, his admiration and desire evident, now, "Deserves power greater than can be achieved through marriage to a Malfoy."
She caught his meaning then and gasped, averting her eyes. "Sir..."
The music changed and Voldemort smirked down at her. "Think on it," he murmured, glancing across to where Lucius Malfoy was standing. He bowed a little and stepped away. "Until we meet again, Miss Greengrass."
Astoria stood alone for a moment, dazed by the encounter, until a hand on her wrist pulled her out of the crowds and into a side room. She looked up, confused, as her mother grabbed her shoulders, shaking her lightly. Her father looked concerned, her brothers impassive, and Daphne terrified.
"What did you say to him?" Cassandra hissed, "Did you offend him?"
Astoria slowly shook her head. "No," she whispered, sinking down into a chair.
Wordlessly, a glass of firewhiskey was shoved into her hands, and she drained the glass. It was then that she noticed that her hands were shaking, and tears welled in her eyes. Her father knelt before her, his hand on her knee. "You're safe," he said quietly, "It's alright."
...
She could feel their eyes on her, following her around the room as she said her goodbyes.
Draco stepped into her line of vision and she swallowed thickly as he approached her, disgust blossoming in her eyes.
"You knew he was here. Your family is harbouring him," she accused, and he nodded wordlessly.
He bent to kiss her hand, but she pulled it away as if his touch burned her. Her farewell was cold and unforgiving. "Goodbye, Malfoy."