Draco woke to the sharp earthy smell of coffee. He looked about, stretching. It had been three weeks that he and Astoria had been living together, and still he had not gotten used to the smell. Astoria's years in France has made her particularly fond of strong, bitter espresso. The room, soft and cream colored, felt like her. After years surrounded by deep, emerald green, it seemed particularly bright and open.
"Good morning." Astoria called softly from the doorway. He looked up to see her, leaning on the door jamb, a small mug in her hand. In her powder blue dressing robe, she looked like a vision from a muggle magazine, her hair still mussed from sleep, but her eyes bright.
"I put the kettle on." She smiled. "Tea should be ready in a moment."
Draco stretched out an arm toward her.
"Come here."
"Oh no." She laughed, taking two steps forward in spite of her words. "You have work."
"Just for a moment." He said with a small smile. She chuckled and went to the bed, setting her coffee lightly on the small table before sinking into the covers beside him.
"You're a bad influence." She teased.
He pulled her closer, nuzzling into her hair, his arm wrapping about her waist to pull her into him.
"I've been called worse." He kissed her throat softly, watching as goosebumps sprung up on her skin at his touch. A low whistle sounded through the door, and she sat up.
"That's the kettle." She whispered, kissing him lightly. "You need to wash up." She winked, climbing out of the bed. Draco groaned and slid out from under the covers. He followed her into the kitchen, his eyes bright. As she took the small kettle off the stove her came and wrapped his arms around her from behind, swaying softly.
"What are you doing today?"
"Meeting with McGonagall." She said, blushing as he laid a cool hand on hers. "Then shopping with Ginny and Hermione."
"What for?"
"Bridesmaid dresses." She sighed, pouring out his tea. "I told you last night you know." She quirked an eyebrow at his guilty expression. She had told him, as they walked back from the cinema, but he had been too distracted by the way the soft, early spring breeze played with her hair, the way her skin flushed in the street lights.
"Of course." He muttered, snatching the small tea cup from her hand. "Spending a lot of time in wedding shops lately, aren't you?"
She laughed. "Don't get any ideas."
"You'd like my ideas." He grinned, taking a small sip of the boiling tea, pulling a face as it singed his tongue.
Astoria gave him a light, playful push. "Go get ready." She scolded. Draco gave a small, mock bow and returned to the room. He undressed, going to the bathroom and turning on the water. He stepped into the shower, running his fingers through his hair. He hadn't known what to expect, living with Astoria. A quiet, blissful domesticity had taken hold of them in the past week. She always rose before him, and some nights she stayed awake in bed, reading musty books. Professor McGonagall had met with her last week, at Hermione's suggestion, and was giving her access to Hogwarts' library. The two women seemed perfectly suited, Astoria in awe of McGonagall's transfigurations, and the Headmistress likewise enamored of Astoria's research. Had Astoria attended Hogwarts, Draco had little doubt she would have been favorite of the former Gryffindor Head. He wondered briefly, given Astoria's lack of talent in potions, if Professor Snape would have liked her as well. He could not imagine anyone truly disliking Astoria. As he stepped out of the shower he saw her there, holding a letter.
"For you." She blushed, trying not to watch him as he stepped, dripping out of the shower.
"What is it?"
Astoria shrugged, tossing a small white towel at him. "Not sure. I don't open your mail." She pulled a face and he laughed. After he had dried he took the small, brown envelop from her hand, tearing it open. He scanned the letter.
"It's from Pansy." He muttered. Astoria tilted her head, watching his expression. "She wants to see me."
Astoria only nodded as Draco went past her, dressing quickly. Goyle's letter had broken the spell of slow, happy mornings. He glanced at the small clock beside the bed.
"I need to go." He sighed. He went to her, kissing her sweetly, before going back to the kitchen, downing his tea in one gulp.
Astoria nodded, reaching out to smooth his hair. Draco went to the door, donning his light coat before turning back, holding out the letter to Astoria. She took it hesitantly. The last time Pansy had spoken with Draco had not gone well, to say the least. He squeezed her hand and went, closing the door softly behind him. Astoria went to the little kitchen table, unfolding the letter.
Draco,
It seems to me I have been neglecting our friendship of late. Perhaps you saw in the Prophet, but I have very recently been engaged to Theodore Nott, which has kept me quite busy in society. He sends his warm regards.
I am writing to give you some warning. Your happy little fairy tale with Astoria Greengrass may soon be coming to an end. Daphne has been keeping Greg from writing you, and I fear that she has plans for you and her sister. I tell you this as your friend, I fear something wretched is going to happen to you. Daphne will not tell me particulars. She seems to believe your girlfriend has cursed me somehow. Meet me at Madam Puddifoots Tea Shop at noon on Saturday (you remember the place).
Yours,
Pansy
...
Daphne paced as she read. Her French was not very good, but reaching out to Astoria's former classmates had seemed her only option. Her sister, it seemed, had caused very little trouble since her return to England. While Astoria had been at Beauxbatons she had written often at first, though Daphne's prolonged silence had soon discouraged her. Still, she knew some names, and one in particular had stood out. Arnaud Duquette. Finally, giving up, she waved her wand over the letter, casting a quick translation spell.
Mrs. Goyle,
It was no small delight to hear from you, I wish to congratulate you on your recent marriage to a man of noble wizarding blood. Of course, your sister, doubtless, cannot expect the same. You were correct, I knew Astoria at Beauxbatons, and it soon became clear that her blood status meant little in terms of her social obligations. Astoria, as I am sure you're well-aware, cared very little for the traditions of proper wizarding society. As to your other question: it is true, Astoria was banned from attending to Tri-Wizard tournament with many of the other Beauxbatons students, due to her involvement in the events of the previous year. I have attached a press-clipping, which I hope will answer any other questions. I am glad to hear that you, at least, uphold the Greengrass name with honor.
Arnaud Duquette
Daphne turned her attention to the small sheet of paper that had accompanied the letter, waving her wand again for a translation. The picture showed a dark-haired girl of about eleven, who Daphne recognized as Astoria. The girl stood, animatedly shouting at the photographer while a tall woman, undoubtedly Madam Maxime, held her back.
Inquest at Beauxbatons! The Headline read. British student and first year at Beauxbatons Academy, Astoria Greengrass, leaving questioning regarding involvement, following the imprisonment of former Beaxbatons professor, Marius Claude. Greengrass is among five students purported to be involved in Claude's "experiments" in Unforgivable Curses and longstanding correspondence with the Wizard Grindlewald. Greengrass was released into the custody of Beauxbatons Headmistress Olympe Maxime following questioning yesterday. Ministry officials state that no charges are being brought against Greengrass or the other students. "Let this be a warning to all wizards and witches. France will not tolerate any study in the Dark Arts." Prime Minister Coule stated in a press release this morning. Headmistress Maxime had this to say "No student at Beauxbatons Academy is guilty of violating International Wizarding Law. Miss Greengrass's experiments fall soundly outside the realm of the Unforgivables." Maxime confirmed that the school would still be participating in the much-anticipated Tri-Wizard Tournament, to be held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry next year.
Daphne fingered the small news clipping thoughtfully. Grindlewald. The name held it's weight, even in England. While much of the continent had suffered under his rule, it was well known that his experiments in the Dark Arts had inspired You-Know-Who. He had been killed during the Second Wizarding War by Voldemort himself, though few knew why. She looked down at the picture of Astoria, which glared back at her.
"It would seem your experiments are not so innocent." She muttered to herself, smiling.
...
Astoria sat, staring at the wall in the Headmistress's office at Hogwarts. McGonagall had gone to see to some issue with the students, leaving Astoria alone with her thoughts.
Daphne was up to something, that much was clear. She couldn't possibly uncover Astoria's work at the Department of Mysteries. Daphne was smart enough not to dig too deep at the Ministry. There was her sleeping potions for Draco, but she had stopped giving those months ago. Then there was...
"No..." She whispered into the empty room.
"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, you know." A dark haired, brooding man stared down at her from one of the many paintings lining the wall.
"Leave her alone, Phineas." A man with a long white beard and twinkling eyes scolded.
She gasped. "Dumbledore...?"
The man smiled at her kindly. "You know me? I don't believe I've had the pleasure."
Astoria blushed. "You have." She murmured. "But...not in this life."
"An intriguing story, no doubt." Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Tell me, what is your name?"
"Don't engage her, Albus." Phineas groaned. Astoria attempted to ignore him. The other heads were waking in their portraits, looking at her with new interest.
"Astoria, Astoria Greengrass." She said, tilting her head slightly.
"Ah yes, I seem to recall reading something about you." Dumbledore said quietly. "Some trouble in France. Oh but that was very long ago." He said comfortingly, seeing Astoria flushing.
"Greengrass?" Another man was stirring in his portrait. A man with shoulder-length black hair an a long hooked nose.
"I believe I taught your sister, Daphne." The man said.
"That's the trouble." Astoria muttered.
"Your sister?" Dumbledore asked, recalling her attention from the other man.
"Yes...you see, I'm dating Draco Malfoy." Astoria said slowly.
The man with the hooked nose leaned forward in his painting, his black eyes bright.
"How is Draco?" He asked. Astoria could see the nameplate on his frame now: Severus Snape.
She smiled. Draco had spoken before, rather fondly, of Snape. "He's quite well." She said. "Working in the Department of International Law."
"Excellent." Snape nodded. "I had worried..."
"So what seems to be the matter?" Dumbledore asked.
Astoria flushed, she now had the attention of Hogwarts Headmasters, going back some eleven centuries. Though some were still asleep, most had their eyes firmly on her. She imagined they didn't get much gossip these days.
"She doesn't want me with him, I suppose." She looked apologetically at Snape. "We haven't gotten on well, not for years. She...she's trying to do something, I think. Break Draco and me up."
Dumbledore nodded. "A sibling's love can be the most precious." He said, his voice tinged with sadness. "But even those ties can be broken." His eyes were misty and far away. Astoria jumped at the sharp click of the door behind her, turning to see McGonagall, her eyes on the portraits.
"Am I interrupting something?" She asked sternly. Some of the older portraits started grumbling, but Dumbledore only smiled.
"Of course not, Minerva. We were simply becoming acquainted with your charming guest."
McGonagall tutted lightly, rounding her desk to look at Astoria.
"I've arranged with Madam Pince for you to take home some books that might be of particular interest to you." She said. "They were in the restricted section, I'm afraid, so you must be careful with them. Several are under some rather nasty defensive spells."
"Thank you, Professor." Astoria said, bowing her head slightly.
"Horace will be delighted to give you whatever aid you may need in potions." McGonagall continued. "As to the particulars of the spell, should you have any questions you know where to reach me."
"Of course." Astoria nodded. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing one o'clock.
"I'm afraid I must be going, Professor." She said, standing smoothly. "Thank you for your time."
Minerva smiled over her glasses, standing and extending her hand to Astoria.
"Of course Miss Greengrass. Any time. Oh," She turned slightly as Astoria went to the door. "Do give Miss Granger my regards."
"I will." Astoria grinned, and with a small wave to McGonagall and the portraits, she left the office.
Minerva turned, fixing a stern eye on Dumbledore's portrait.
"What were you telling that poor girl?" She asked. Dumbledore merely smiled and shook his head.
"Nothing Minerva." Dumbledore said lightly. "Though, if I were you, I might keep an eye on that girl." He fiddled slightly with a dark ring painted on his fingers. "Miss Greengrass has proven herself in the past to be a rather formidable young lady. I believe the French authorities even called her a prodigy of sorts, though I might be mistaken."
With that, he fell silent and would say no more, merely humming absentmindedly to himself. Soon, Minerva gave in to his silence, turning back to the papers on her desk, only interrupted by light snoring, and occasionally a small cough from the paintings behind her.