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Astoria waited until Pansy had left the dining room before talking to Draco again. When the humongous doors had finally swung closed behind the sad girl, Astoria tapped the boy on the shoulder.

"We need to talk."

He looked up from his eggs. "Now?"

Astoria nodded, and he followed her out of the Great Hall.

"What do we need to talk about? Is this about the curse, or -"

"Can you please stop flirting with me?" Astoria blurted out.

Draco's face immediately hardened. "I'm not flirting with you."

"Then why have you been acting so different?" Astoria asked quietly.

"Because I'm concerned about you," he said. Lowering his voice, he added, "you're sick and you refuse to tell anyone."

"Since when do you care? You're Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince! You don't have friends, you have groupies, remember? You hate the world," Astoria continued, "and everyone in it."

"I don't hate you," he said.

"You should. You should hate me because I don't say the word Mublood, hate me because I don't want to be in Slytherin -"

"I don't hate you," he repeated, running a tired hand through his hair. "I keep trying, but I can't."

"Since when did you say things like that?" Astoria shrieked. "Be cold, sarcastic and mean again."

"Why?"

"Because I know what to expect from that Draco. This Draco is a completely different person."

Draco looked hurt. "I don't want to be mean to you," he whispered.

"I - I don't like you," Astoria lied. "Please stop pursuing me. Please stop caring about me. It's not how things are supposed to work."

He looked at her for a second and nodded curtly. "Fine."

Clasping his hands behind his back, he reentered the Great Hall. Astoria watched him go, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

She'd done the right thing.

But why did it feel so wrong?

"He's rebounded already," Pansy whispered scathingly to Astoria the next evening. Word had gotten out that Draco and Astoria had had a fight, and since then, Pansy had warmed back up to her former friend. They were currently sitting in the Great Hall, watching Draco and Millicent at the other end of the Slytherin table.

Astoria almost choked on her roast. "He has?"

Pansy frowned at his back. "Yeah. I'm glad I broke up with him."

Astoria marveled at how confidently her friend told the lie. "I'm glad for you, too," she said lamely and returned to her dinner.

Astoria finished her homework in the library, knowing that Pansy would be in the Slytherin common room eviscerating Draco. Astoria told herself that she didn't want to hear him be insulted because it would mess with her concentration, but deep down she knew there was more to it.

When her eyelids started to drop from exhaustion, however, the girl knew she'd have to face the common room. Packing up her things, she walked back to the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories.

"Pureblood," she whispered. The wall melted away for her and she stepped into the common room.

What she saw made her stand in the same place longer than she was supposed to.

Draco and Millicent were sitting on the couch facing the entrance, making out. His arm was draped around her back, and she was leaning into him so much that they were on the verge of tipping over. Foolishly, Astoria wondered what Draco saw in her. Millicent wasn't even that pretty and had earned a reputation of being one of the most awfully tempered girls in the house. He could do so much better, Astoria thought. Then, she shook her head slightly. She told Draco not to express any interest in her. He had the right to do anything he wanted.

The boy caught her eye over Millicent's shoulder, taking in her shocked expression. Keeping eye contact with the startled girl, he deepened the kiss.

Astoria wrinkled her nose and broke eye contact. Decidedly looking anywhere but that couch, she crossed the common room and went up to the dormitories, Draco filling every inch of her brain. Why would he do that? He'd always hated Millicent.

Unless... unless he was trying to make her jealous. In that case, Astoria had to pretend to endorse their relationship full heartedly. Act like it didn't disgust her.

Show Draco that she really didn't like him, even though she absolutely did.

"This is a common treatment in Muggle hospitals," her healer, Matilda, said, inserting a long needle into Astoria's arm.

"Really?" Astoria asked, trying not to wince as the needle started pumping blood. She tried to think of the Great Lake, where her classmates were undoubtedly sulking around right now...

"Yes. Sometimes the simplest solutions are the best," Matilda said, smiling at the young girl.

"I guess so," Astoria said stiffly, trying to match the healer's enthusiasm.

"I think Muggles are underrated. They're simply fascinating, don't you think?"

"I agree." Astoria paused, wondering if she should share this information with the cheery-eyed nurse. Making her decision, she said cautiously, "I've been fainting a lot this past week, once or twice a day..."

"Common side effect," Matilda said, tone becoming a little less cavalier. "Ginger often helps. I can have the Hogwarts kitchen make cookies for you with every meal?"

Astoria winced. "Is there anything, um, a little less obvious?"

Realization dawned on Matilda's face. "Of course, dear. I'll cook something up for you by next week."

"Thank you," the relieved girl said gratefully.

Draco was waiting for her outside the hospital.

"What the hell, Draco? I told you to stay away from me," Astoria said as soon as she saw him.

He scoffed. "I would never wait for you. Millicent is visiting a friend and I'm waiting for her." He checked Astoria's face for a reaction. Seeing none, he tried to hurt her more. "And don't call me Draco, blood traitor."

Despite the fact that Astoria wasn't a blood traitor and wouldn't care if she was, his last remark hurt her, though she didn't show it. "Say hi to Millicent for me," she said, giving Draco an angelic smile.

His mouth fell open in shock. Having succeeded in annoying him, the girl chuckled and walked away.

Once her back was turned to him, the boy's expression changed from disgust to concern. Eyeing her arm, where a tiny prick still showed on the inside of her elbow, he furrowed his brow. She was going somewhere - he'd looked inside the hospital repeatedly as soon as she'd entered its doors. Millicent was in the Slytherin common room eagerly awaiting his arrival.

But where would she go? Where could she get treatment for such an obscure illness?

The puzzle pieces fell together with a deafening crash.

She was going to St. Mungo's.

Her illness was worse than he thought.

Curling his hands into fists, he resolved to help her in any way he could, whether she wanted him to or not.