Lucius Malfoy escorted Draco and Astoria back to school, a trip none of them enjoyed. Lucius disliked Hogwarts in general, even when a trip there didn't make him late for breakfast. Draco dreaded the days to come, the battles he'd be fighting to protect the girl clinging to his hand. Astoria was simply afraid of the unknown.

"Miss Astoria," Lucius said as he left her in the main hall, as crowds of students gawked, "it was, as always, a pleasure to have you as a guest in our home. I look forward to the day it becomes your home as well."

Lucius was amused to see that she flushed at that courtesy; apparently the three hours she'd spent the night before trying to figure out how to blush on cue had been productive. Simple, dull Astoria, he mocked himself. That he'd fallen for her act, fallen for it for years, was rather galling. Still, if she'd fooled him, only dropping that mask because she couldn't remember it existed, she'd fool the Order.

"Draco," Lucius added, "I expect you to keep watch over the girl."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, a sullen undertone to his voice that brought smirks to the faces of some of the watchers. Idiots, Lucius Malfoy thought. As if Draco and he would ever display any true discord in front of an audience. With a brisk nod to the pair of newly fledged spies he left them, left the school.

Left the battleground.

When he returned to the Manor, breakfast was still being served and, after a light kiss to Narcissa's temple, he buttered a piece of toast as an elf brought him some fresh tea. They'd set up breakfast in a smaller dining room and the sun made the room seem inviting and cozy, especially after the scale of the hall at Hogwarts. Lucius loved his home, loved the way Narcissa had blended antique linens and flowering plants in this room to soothe the soul.

"Will they do," Bellatrix asked, leaning her head up against Tom Riddle at the table, a cup of tea in front of her, indulging in a display of public affection Lucius found distasteful in an adult. He wasn't sure why Riddle, so cold in so many ways, cossetted the woman.

"They'll be fine," he said. "Where's your husband, Bella?"

"Off being inept somewhere, I suppose," she said with a shrug. "Why, do you think he'd object?" She pulled her head off the man's shoulder and gestured towards Riddle with one hand.

"I think," Lucius said, considering her, "that he'd perfume you and walk you to the Dark Lord's chamber himself if he thought it would gain him favor."

"If the man wants favor he'll have to get it by being good at his job," Riddle snorted. "A standard he's yet to meet."

"He's dedicated to you," Bella appeased him, or tried to, running her hand down the man's shoulder and along his arm.

"I'd get a dog if I wanted mindless devotion," Riddle said, pushing back from the table and shrugging off her stroking hand. "I want to be Minister and that requires people with some actual wit on my team." He sighed, "All things in good time, though. First we have to get Dumbledore and that ridiculous boy taken care of."

"Do you actually believe in the prophecy?' Narcissa made a delicate frown, though whether at his possible belief in oracles or at some perceived imperfection in her bowl of fruit was not wholly clear. "I thought you believed soothsaying was nonsense."

"No, and it is." Riddle smiled at her. "But enough people believe in it, believe in him, that until he's dead I'll constantly be fighting insurgent groups that rally behind him. He's worse than a bastard son, I swear. All the hassle after but none of the fun aforehand."

"Well," Lucius turned his eye to the practical matters at hand. "He's still warded, thanks to his mother, and until that warding drops there's not much we can do about him. The supposedly secret Order is still nattering about, making vague and most likely ridiculous plans in the meanwhile but Astoria and Draco are placed to forward those to us."

"I wonder if they could take down Dumbledore," Bella murmured. "They are in the school, and that's the tricky part."

"They probably could," Riddle conceded, "And Astoria, at least, certainly has the motivation, but the propaganda value of Voldemort taking down Dumbledore in some kind of public confrontation, only to then be vanquished in turn by Tom Riddle, hero of the realm, is much higher."

. . . . . . . . . .

Astoria clutched at Draco's hand as he led her back to their common room. "I'll do anything," she'd told Riddle, "as long as you don't take – "

"No one plans to take Draco from you," the man had interrupted her smoothly. "No one wants you to actually suffer, Astoria, and he'll watch out for you. Draco, my dear, is indispensable."

She'd watched him lean forward towards her, his eyes crinkling with sincerity and she'd made a face. "Still doesn't quite work," she'd said and he'd laughed.

"Would you believe I'm indifferent to whether you suffer but that I think Draco will increase your odds of success, that without him all your energy would go to simply trying to get through your days?"

"That," she'd said, "I'd believe."

Now, with Draco helping her through the entrance, making a show of being attentive and caring, she was a lot more afraid of meeting all these people than of Tom Riddle's scheme to have her find out Ginny's plans. "Here, love." He settled her onto a chair and leaned up against the side. The common room – her common room – was familiar, but it was as though it were a painting she'd seen, or a descriptive passage she'd read. She knew were all the chairs were, could have unerringly fetched extra quills from the cupboard. She just didn't remember ever having been here.

"You survived your weekend at home." A brown-haired girl eyed Draco with what looked like amusement. "And now you've returned to grace us with your presence again?"

"Stow it, Pansy," he muttered. "You remember Astoria. Astoria, this is Pansy. She's a childhood friend and general thorn in my side."

"Astoria and I know each other," the girl drawled, "What are you playing at, Draco?"

"Astoria," Draco said calmly, "has been the victim of an unfortunate memory curse and doesn't remember anyone."

Malicious pleasure spread across the girl's – across Pansy's – face. "So," she said, "you'd believe anything I told you?"

"Which would be why I'm right here," Draco said with false sweetness, "and why I'll be staying glued to her side. You might want to spread the word that I would consider any attack on Astoria an attack on me and respond accordingly."

"Touchy, touchy," Pansy laughed, but the meanness had left her face and she regarded Astoria with what looked like pity mixed with a certain amount of admiration. "So, you finally truly snared the boy, and all you had to do was lose your mind."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Astoria muttered and Pansy sighed. Astoria watched the woman assess her and didn't like the pity – the worry - she saw slowly grow in her eyes.

"I'll help you look after her, Draco," Pansy finally said, "but you owe me."

"Money or favors?"

"Favors," she said. "To be determined later."

"Deal," and Draco held his hand out and the two briskly shook.

"You fell hard, then," Pansy said.

"Beg pardon?" Draco turned from her to run his hands over Astoria's hair, fussing with strands that wouldn't lie straight.

"You just agreed to undetermined favors. That's not like you." She shook her head. "Ergo, you fell hard and are willing to pay what it takes to keep her from being ripped to shreds by all the little snakes she ruled last week."

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown," Draco muttered.

Pansy regarded Astoria. "Do you plan to try to seize that crown back or just plead illness and a need for recovery and let one of your little minions take your place?"

Astoria glanced at Draco. "I think," she said, thinking about Ginny and her agreement with Tom Riddle, "I'll abdicate. I think I'll have enough to deal with without trying to manage my 'minions'." She looked sad for a moment. "Don't I have any actual friends?"

Neither Draco nor Pansy graced that absurd question with an answer.

Pansy ran her tongue over her lips and squinted across the room at the cadre of girls not quite approaching them. "Abdication is probably a better choice. It's certainly easier for me if I want to keep you unhexed and mostly unharrassed. A little ritualistic display of weakness and, if you play them right, they'll demote you but look after you as well. Poor, broken little Astoria. Better that than having them actually turn on you. You'll have to endure some snippy little comments, I'm sure, but Draco's obvious partisanship will mostly keep that in check and I'll keep an eye on you in the girls' dorm."

"Is dormitory life always this… vicious?" Astoria asked quietly.

"Oh yes," Pansy smiled at her. "And, until you lost your marbles, you were the master player."

"Better than you?" Astoria regarded the other girl and Pansy began to laugh.

"So. You aren't totally defanged, huh? Good." She waved her hand at Draco. "Go away, pain in my arse. The other girls aren't going to come over until you're gone; you scare them. She'll be fine; let her get round one of the 'meet the people she already knows' things over with and then you can walk her to class."

. . . . . . . . . .

"Did you hear?" Ginny stops to listen to the gossip, bending down to tie her shoe. "That Astoria Greengrass - the one who's engaged to Draco Malfoy - she lost her whole memory, doesn't know a soul."

"No!" the other girl gasped in delight. "Does this mean he's available?"

"Hardly." The first girl snorted and rubbed her hands together, leaned over closer to her friend.

Ginny finished typing her shoe and starts rummaging in her bag. "He took her home over the weekend and his parents brought in some specialist to look at her and even though there's absolutely nothing that can be done for her he's standing by her. Hovering, even. Can you imagine? Engaged to a woman who doesn't remember him at all?"

"That's so romantic." The admission, however socially correct, sounded, to Ginny's ears, a bit sour. Apparently her little unwitting gossip source had a thing for Malfoy. She rolled her eyes as she straightened up. Honestly, sure, he was cute enough if you went for a man who spent all his time smirking and was probably already a Death Eater. Ginny didn't think his pretty face compensated for his general attitude problems but, clearly, not everyone shared her opinion.

Harry slipped up behind her and, grabbing her shoulders, spun her around for a quick kiss. "How's my favorite Weasley?"

She wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned into him. "Going my way?"

"I can be."

Ginny smiled and they started off down the cold, stone corridor. "I think," she said very quietly, "we might have a bit of a problem."

"Did Malfoy get the spell reversed?" A flicker of worry crossed Harry's face. "It's not like she could identify - "

"No, she's well and truly cursed. Malfoy Senior brought in a specialist; there's no hope."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Malfoy Junior." She paused and then added. "Dear Draco is not abandoning her to enjoy his parade of willing sex toys. If gossip's to be believed, he's, well, 'hovering' was the word his little fan used."

Harry groaned.

"And I already told her she didn't care for him." Ginny frowned. "Who knew he'd become such a chevalier. I wouldn't have thought he'd go for the distressed damsel. Okay, this is my class. Look, Harry, think about it. We can adapt but..."

"Maybe this is better," Harry murmured into her hair as he hugged her goodbye. "She'll be around him more, go to weekends at his house, be around the, you know. And she'll still believe you when you tell her she wanted away from that evil quagmire; more time spent with Malfoy Senior, who isn't even nice to her newly beloved Draco based on the way the two snakes glowered at one another this morning, can only make her like the whole lot of them less, make her more willing to spill the dirt. Hell, maybe we can suggest she could rescue the rotter from his family. Be all shocked and relieved he's standing by her, talk about hidden depths, all that good stuff. I mean, you'll be being honest. Who would have expected that from him?"

"Not me, that's for sure. I don't know, Harry. Maybe." Ginny shook her head and added one more thing before she went into class. "Talk to Hermione and Dumbledore, okay? See what they think."

. . . . . . . . . .

Astoria brushed up against Ginny on the way into dinner. "I don't remember which was our table in the library," she said, lacing her words with an embarrassed apology. "But if you'd like to study tonight…"

Ginny smiled and put her hand on the other girl's arm. "I'll find you there," she said. "Don't worry."

"Thanks," Astoria swallowed. "This is… hard. And it turns out that some of my former friends aren't, well, so nice."

"We've got your back, Tory, don't worry."

The two girls parted ways and went to their own tables. Ginny watched Astoria lean into Draco as though she were exhausted and he were the only thing keeping her upright. Hard to believe, Ginny thought to herself, that this was the same girl who last week had been the center of a social whirlwind.

She looked at Harry and he, glancing over at the fragile looking girl, mouthed "jackpot" to Ginny before laughing at a Quidditch anecdote and tossing a roll over to Ron.

. . . . . . . . . .

A/N – More of this weird little unfinished, not-outlined, oddity. I do like my unrepentant Death Eater Draco and my favorite version of Riddle as a totally amoral politician. (Creatures I find much scarier than snake faced monsters what with them actually existing and all.)