Happy Thanksgiving, readers. Or at least, the last ten minutes of it over here. That is, if you even celebrate it over where you are. Either way, I hope you had a great day. :)

Thank you very much for the messages and reviews, constructive criticism and nice comments alike. Every time my phone beeps with a new follower alert, I get all fuzzy inside. I know the story is getting a little rough, and I have seemingly changed things that were wonderful about the HP series (Although totally murdering Lucius' name wasn't intentional...shameful, really, I know...) but I hope you'll stick around to see what I pull outta my mind next.


"No! No!"

My body jerked itself upward, a cold sweat engulfing my temples. I gasped, clutching my stomach, terror filling itself up in the dark. Next to me, Draco sat upright slowly.

"Astoria? What's wrong?"

I didn't turn to look at him. I felt his sigh vibrate the sheets and it made my stomach churn worse. He was unhappy, I was unhappy. A shadow twirled in the darkness. He didn't reach out to touch me.

"Draco," I cried lightly, and his hunched-over figure sitting next to me stiffened.

"Yes?" Forced.

"I'm a mess."

No reply.

I took in a jagged breath. "When was the date we were thinking of for the wedding?"

He froze slightly, and I realized how ignorant it was of me to forget. I opened my mouth to try to take back his hurt feelings, but he interrupted me slowly.

"Next month."

I flinched.

"You want to cancel it?"

"No, but…" I trailed, unable to find the right words, and he ran his fingers through his hair impatiently. I buried my face in the covers, feeling full the weight of agonizing nerves and unwound fears. My feelings were pushing themselves out through my throat.

"I really, truly…I love you," I finished quietly, as if that would explain things.

He didn't reply, but I heard the words in his throat; His arm slid under my waist, his fingers caressing over the small of my back. I swallowed painfully.

"Do you still love me?" I croaked, and then I felt his lips brush my cheek. He rested his nose against my ear.

"I still love you."

The answer was almost too simple, but why shouldn't it be? I felt guilty suddenly, angry, something… and every time I tried to put it together, I saw only myself in the way. The back of my throat ached with tears. "I haven't been a very good fiancée at all," I said. "You've always been excellent."

Silence. I continued.

"You've never turned your back on me. You're just the perfect man, and I'm—"

"Perfect is the wrong word on so many levels, Astoria."

"What do you mean? You defy your own parents for me, practically turn your back on your family, you're always so honest and sweet and—"

He pulled away from me. "Shut up."

His voice wasn't harsh, but it silenced me immediately, like a quick slap to the face. Another sigh, this one frustrated.

"I-I'm sorry. I just… God damn it, Astoria, I'm not a good man, okay? Just stop."

There seemed to be a thickness about the air. I wanted to choke inside it. What did he mean, he wasn't a good man? I know about his past, and that's okay with me. He knows that, doesn't he? I looked down at the bed and the space between us, and it all felt so uncomfortable when pieced together. I didn't want to go to sleep like this.

"Draco, can we please go back to loving eachoth—"

"I lied."

Slap in the face. I kept my voice even but my reply came out sharp. "What?"

"I lied about your sister, I know who killed her. Your mother didn't recognize his name but I… know him." A scowl. What the hell did he have to scowl about?

I crawled over him until I was on his lap, my gaping face 3 inches from his. "Who killed my sister?"

His hands tightened into fists, speaking both regretfully and selfishly tiresome at the same time. "Rodolphus Lestrange. He had some help from his….wife."

A vision flashed through my mind of Draco's horrible, psychotic aunt and her dirty husband, and a single whimper escaped my throat.

I took a quick left down the corridor, checking over my back every so often just in case a professor was close behind.

I'd just completed my plan: sneaking into Professor Flitwick's room and placing my late essay carefully onto the pile with the others, where it would fit right in before the grading period. Free credit for me; It would boost my grade to nearly perfect. I smiled proudly as I snuck through the cold hallways. All I needed to do was get back through the Slytherin common room and slip into the girls' dormitory like nothing had ever happened. Cake. The dungeons were just nearby.

"Legilimency." I whispered to door, and it gave a heavy creak as I opened it and squeezed myself through. Another creak to close it. Damn. I gave a small prayer Professor Snape wouldn't catch me and turned the corner to the common room.

To my surprise, a small lamp was on. I squinted, seeing a skinny Slytherin boy come into sight, pacing the room back and forth, alone. He looked gaunt, haunted by something I couldn't put my finger on; but I recognized it as warmly as if I had lived it. He turned his blond head up quickly and noticed me before I could hide. His expression gave away the clue that I'd given him a fright, and I fought back a smile.

"What're you doing out of bed?" he snarled, obviously heated up about something. I cleared my throat awkwardly, squaring my shoulders.

"Turning in a paper." I replied casually, trying to look cool.

He glared at me. "Hah. What're you, a first year? It's not even 10. Snape could've caught you and you would've cost us points."

I squinted at him again, wondering what the hell his problem was. Slowly my eyes rested upon a single potion sitting against the table, just barely hidden by his leg. I recognized him suddenly.

"Oh…Draco Malfoy," I said, and then a rush of memories clipped up throughout my mind. I grinned, fighting off the urge to hug my childhood friend.

He shot me an ugly look. "Yeah, hey, Draco Malfoy, here I am. Get your ass to bed." He ordered, still trying to block the potion from my view.

I didn't move, now scowling. Was he this snarky in my memories? No, my mind supplied, because you loved him. I squinted my eyes at him, and my heart filled with the longing that he'd remember me. I( thought of my young self, sassy and precise.

"Maybe I'm up having a promenade around the common room just as you are," I sniffed, crossing my arms.

Draco sighed impatiently, finally collapsing on the couch. "Who the bloody hell are you?"

"You don't know?"

His eyes searched mine, and something clicked into place.

"Astoria," He breathed, and it came out like a hiss.

I gave a satisfied smile. "How are you, Draco? It's been so long….do you remember—"

He slumped on the couch, still scowling, but I could tell it was half-hearted. The way his glances kept nervously meeting mine made me happy; He did remember, he was interested.

He spoke curtly. "I'm fine."

"I really was turning in a paper, you know," I continued, trying to keep my tone light and conversational.

"Well, aren't you a peach?" Draco shot back, and I ignored his harsh sarcasm.

"Well," I said, more softly, sitting down on the couch across from his, "I'm not the one down here worriedly pacing the common room all alone at night."

He scoffed at me, his voice filled with all kinds of poison, but frayed at the ends. "Worried. You don't even know the half of it."

The potion caught my eye again, but I decided to ignore it. That topic could be for another conversation another night. I took a deep breath and slumped comfortably against the couch just as he was.

"I have time."