Serendipity
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters or any material from its universe. I'm just here to play with them and pretend.
A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Blessed 2020 to all of you. I got home today and spent the whole day writing. It might not be much right now for our two protagonists, but destiny is hard at work!
Enjoy!
-Annie
Chapter Nineteen
What Are Friends For?
The moment I made if home from France, I called for Healer Vector and asked her to have a meeting with me at the manor with haste. Being back in England felt cold and empty compared to what I had left in France, but reality sunk in deeper the longer I stared out across the murky moors of my estate.
"Your mother's sickness is escalating, Mr. Malfoy," Vector explained plainly to me. We were seated in the drawing room where my mother attended to guests. "If we don't tackle treatment soon and rigorously, she will die."
As Healer Vector spoke, a hollow creak echoed from the entryway. My mother stood in the door frame, looking icy and frailer than I'd ever seen her. A silver serving tray with tea and a steaming teapot floated next to her shoulder.
"Mum," I whispered, hopping to my feet. "I thought you were still sleeping."
Nacrissa made a tsk between her teeth and pointed her nose toward the ceiling. "I won't very well sleep the day away, Draco. Not when we have company." With a flourish of her wand, she set the tray of tea on the coffee table and nodded for Vector and myself to settle in.
"Pour our guest some tea, dear."
Vector sighed, by now knowing Narcissa well enough to know not to protest, and accepted the teacup.
Despite her stubbornness, I could see her pale blue eyes pooling slowly with moisture. My mother blinked furiously and set her jaw, quietly commanding her emotions away. She deflated into a nearby armchair, refusing to meet our eyes.
Vector cleared her throat, setting her teacup down.
"I propose round the clock care," Healer Vector continued, all business, glancing at me pointedly. "As we start treatment, Narcissa will get sicker before she gets stronger, and it would be better if someone were with her at all times, ensuring she follows her medical instructions."
Narcissa let out a disgruntled hmph. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. That won't be necessary, I assure you."
Vector sighed heavily and glanced toward me for help, her expression hard. "You understand what will happen if she continues to refuse our care. She will - "
I held up my hand, silencing her.
"You will do all that you can. Bring whatever supplies and people you need to. You have complete permission to do whatever it takes to make her well."
"Draco, have you lost your mind?" cawed my mother, outraged. "I will not have you making decisions for me, and I will not have you spending that absurd amount of money that I can assure you we do not have, on prolonging my death."
"Mother, with all of my respect, kindly shut your mouth and stay out of this," I said harshly, my tone and expression hard as the stone fireplace behind her. "I am the man of this house. Everything was left to me, and that includes your care, as you clearly cannot be held responsible enough to take care of yourself."
Her lips made an audible pop as her jaw dropped. Before she could scold me, I slapped down a note with all of our remaining savings and every galleon I had earned in France.
"You will start the process today," I instructed Vector seriously, and the coldness in my words went through my bones. "There is enough there to get her through the week and our remaining balance. I will pay the rest at the end of the week. You have free reign of our home and any supplies we might already have. There are bedrooms should you or your staff need to stay here on the third floor. While you are here, you will answer to me and you will respect the rules of my home. I expect nothing but the best, and if you cannot supply that, we will go elsewhere. Is that understood?"
Vector clipped her head forward and rose from her seat, extending her hand. We shook hands firmly in agreement and she swished her wand toward the money; it disappeared in a wisp of wind, a bell chiming to indicate the balance had been paid to their account.
"I'll return shortly," she promised before Flooing away.
"What the hell was that?" Narcissa hissed when the healer disappeared. "You can't speak to me that way. I won't allow you to take over my life. Where do you think you get off?"
"You made the decision very clear for me when you began to refuse care," I told her simply, my tone still clipped and cold. "I will not allow you to kill yourself. You will not die without a fight, I'll make damned sure of that."
"You can't just - "
"You're all I have left!" I suddenly released, my shriek echoing through the manor, practically rattling the windows. "I'm not losing you, too."
My mother gasped and I couldn't exactly say I blamed her. In that moment, I hardly recognized myself.
"You look so much like your father, right now..." she whispered, blinking against fresh tears. They spilled freely now and she sunk tiredly into the cushioned armchair. It unsettled me to see her so small.
"I get my fight from you," I reminded her, clasping her tiny hand in both of mine and kneeling at her feet. "We don't give up, Mother. We don't give up."
She nodded, resigned, and cupped my cheek.
"Oh, my sweet boy," she hummed and rested her forehead against mine as she used to do when I was a child refusing to go to sleep.
Now that my mother's treatment had been secured, I continued with the next phase of my plan. Wasting no time, I was able to sell several fine dresses and the entire expanse of my father's formal robes for a decent amount of money. Then came the china sets that my parents had collected from several countries and our finest candelabras, followed by the three Persian rugs that decorated our entryway, drawing room, and library. I cut ties with most of the things my mother hadn't had the heart to sell a year ago and hid the money earned from those items away. Mother, of course, knew I needed to be rid of these finer things - they held no value sitting in our empty manor, especially when we needed the money they could offer.
With her permission, I even scoured my mother's jewelry box and collected everything she still owned, leaving her her wedding band and a pair of sapphire earrings - the last present she'd received from my father before we'd lost everything.
"You can take those, too," my mother offered sadly, staring at the sapphire earrings. It broke my heart to take away all the finer things she adored in life, but I needed her to live, and if she was going to have a chance to fight this illness, I needed to sell as much as I could.
"I don't have much use for jewelry these days," she continued. "It's not like I'll be going anywhere special anytime soon."
"Keep them," I insisted, placing them firmly in her palm and curling her fingers around them. "Please."
Gratefully, she responded by clipping them to her ears instead of arguing with me. I kissed her forehead and helped her to the chaise lounge next to her bedroom window so that she could rest and gaze out across her fairy garden.
"You'll need to care for the garden," she sighed, reaching for one of her novels. She thumbed through the pages thoughtfully, still staring outside. "I don't know how often I'll be allowed to move about the grounds and do the work."
"Of course, Mother, whatever you wish," I promised and left her to her novel.
The next day, I owled Astoria Greengrass and invited her to London, insisting in my letter that I desperately missed her now that I was home and needed to see her. She replied in a letter a few hours later, letting me know she was actually returning to London within the next few days to work at the Witch Weekly headquarters and take her journalism career to the next level. She agreed happily to meet with me when she was settled in and grab some dinner.
I'll make us reservations, I wrote back in my final letter.
Blaise returned from France the very next day and came by to check on my mother's condition. Despite our feud in France over my recklessness with Granger and the news of my mother's worsening status, he put aside his resentment toward me to help when he could with Narcissa. He brought her a box of French pastries that made her smile so wide, it was startling. He even had dinner brought in for her and an expensive wine.
But the tension between him and me didn't dissipate, no matter how many smiles Narcissa gave.
"When are you asking Stori to marry you?" grunted Blaise over an evening bourbon in the library, finally facing the elephant in the room.
I swallowed, setting my bourbon down. The amber liquid sloshed lazily against the glass, mocking me at its ease and carelessness.
"I'm taking her to dinner tomorrow evening. It's at a piano club - I've asked them to play a Scubert piece for her," I answered slowly. "If she says yes, Mum's treatment will be completely taken care of."
"Cute," mocked Blaise, his words slicing into me like newly sharpened daggers. "How very precious. Shall I send you congratulations via champagne or singing doves?"
"I don't want to hear it," I snapped and Blaise scoffed and opened his mouth to protest against me. "We both knew this day had to come, no matter how much we wanted to pretend it wouldn't. I know you think I'm stupid, I know you are against me marrying anyone, much less your childhood best friend, who we both agree deserves so much better than me. You're right about all of these things, Blaise, but I don't have a choice in the matter anymore."
"You should have thought about that, about Astoria, about your mother, before catching feelings - "
"Damn it, Blaise, I know!" I shouted, my knuckles going white as I clenched my fist. "I'm done talking about that. It was a lapse of judgement, that's all it was."
"Codswallop," Blaise rejected, rolling his eyes. "I saw that idiocy with Granger building for weeks, both Ariana and I did. I even encouraged it at times because all of this is so ridiculous and I wanted so badly for you to reject Ambrose Greengrass and make your life your own. I never for once thought you'd actually be stupid enough to do something about it, and then when you did, you ran away from it like a filthy coward, and now you're going to ask Astoria to marry you, days after shoving your tongue down some war princess's throat!"
I simmered, jolting to my feet to pace, restless with anger at both him and myself.
"Astoria truly cares for you. This is wrong on so many levels."
"You don't think I know this? I was just trying to forget for a little while - that's all France was - before my whole life went to hell and I had to hate myself for the rest of eternity by doing what I had to do to save a life. This isn't even about me, and I know I never should have been at that riveria. I've put my mother in jeopardy trying to stall the inevitable and I realize I've been reckless and stupid and arrogant - "
"And now you've reached the point of no return," Blaise finished for me, shaking his head. "It doesn't have to be this way, Draco. Not for you, not for Astoria or Granger -"
"Leave her out of this," I vociferated. "Please."
Blaise clamped his lips shut, shaking his head.
"What other option do I have, Zabini?" I questioned forcefully, glaring at him. "My dad is dead and my mum is trying to join him. Even if she does survive this by some miracle, she would lose everything - our home, our freedom - everything she fought for when she lied to the Dark Lord that night. I can't do that to her, not after everything she's done for me. I can't let her down like my father did."
Blaise's expression softened and he sighed.
"You're either in this with me or we are done." I frowned at him deeply, silently imploring him to be on my side. "You can't keep making me feel guilty for things I'll never be able to forgive myself for. I need someone in my corner through this."
I can't lose you, too.
He remained silent for several minutes before throwing up his hands in defeat.
"Fine," he relented, knocking back the remainder of his bourbon. "But you can't get her just any old ring - she likes rose gold because she thinks it looks unique, and she hates diamonds, thinks they are overrated. She would want an opal; it's her favorite stone. And nothing too gaudy, she's a simple woman, unlike her sister."
I cocked my head at him in surprise and he shrugged, reached over to grab my glass of bourbon, and shot it back without cringing.
"I told you - she's my best friend," he explained dully, almost lifeless. "And so are you."
"Thank you, mate," I expressed gratefully, extending my hand as a peace treaty.
"My middle finger salutes you," he said in response, slapping my hand away pettily. "And anyway, what are friends for?"
His voice was heavy with an unrecognizable emotion - anger, hatred, sadness, sickness? "Wish your mother well for me and get some sleep. You don't want to look like shit when you propose."
He brushed past me and disappeared out of the library.
"What do you mean you're engaged to be married?"
Narcissa was practically hysterical, pacing back and forth in the drawing room. Blaise looked like he couldn't decide whether he should be sick or laugh his brains out. Narcissa rounded on him in an instant.
"Is this some kind of ridiculous jest? A prank you both are pulling on me, perhaps?"
"Would I prank you, my swan?" cawed Blaise dramatically. Narcissa clapped him violently upside the head and he made an aggressive squeak, folding into the sofa for protection against further blows.
"Mother - "
She cleared the room in seconds, grabbing me by the collar with a fierceness that startled me.
"Explain yourself, Draco Lucius, or so help me I will wring your ear until you bleed," seethed my mother, pinching my ear between her sharp fingernails in warning.
"Yes, Draco, explain yourself," Blaise agreed condescendingly, regaining his cool composure and folding his arms over his chest. "Do tell her everything."
My ear began to ring as my mother started to twist the cartilage.
"Let me go," I pleaded, giving my mother a small shove. "Just sit down, will you? You'll tire yourself out."
She twisted at my ear again.
"Good grief, woman, I'll explain everything, just let me go!" I hollered desperately, practically begging. Blaise dissolved into a fit of gleeful giggles.
"What have you done?" Narcissa demanded, depositing herself into her armchair, stone faced and breathing harder than I liked.
I sighed and sat down across from her.
"Blaise, bring my mother some tea, would you?"
The Italian stood to serve my mother but halted as she held up her hand and turned toward him.
"First, tell me who it is," she commanded. "I need to know if I'm going to need something stronger."
I started to protest to remind her that she needed to cut back on her alcohol consumption during treatments, but her glare was like staring into the eyes of a vengeful cobra about to strike.
"He's asked Astoria Greengrass to be his wife," answered Blaise in my silence.
"Greengrass," repeated my mother and it rolled off her tongue like acid. "As in Dorothea and Ambrose Greengrass?"
"The very same," Blaise said.
"I thought she got married just this summer," argued Narcissa, puzzled. "Dorothea sent me an invitation back in the springtime."
"Oh, you're thinking of Astoria's older sister, Daphne," explained Blaise. "Daphne was in our year at Hogwarts. She just married French royalty, practically. The wedding was quite the spectacle, you would have pissed yourself, Narcissa."
My mother skewered him with distaste. "I may be ill, Blaise Zabini, but I am not dead yet. I'll not have you using such obnoxious manners in my presence."
Blaise sobered himself. "Of course. Shall I attend to your tea?"
"Fetch me that horrible French red you brought home for me," Narcissa corrected him, waving him off with an effortless and dismissive grace.
As Blaise exited the drawing room, my mother cleared her throat pointedly at me and crossed her legs at the ankle.
"I love her, Mother."
Narcissa actually snorted.
"Don't insult my intelligence, dear boy," she said. "You've never once even mentioned her and now you expect me to believe you've fallen in love with this woman to enough of a degree as to ask her to join our family?"
I stumbled over my words, trying to come up with an explanation that would make sense to her.
"I take it that you've spoken to Ambrose about taking his daughter's hand?"
I nodded.
"And?" my mother prodded, waving her hand impatiently at me.
"He gave us his full blessing, I can assure you of that," I told her honestly. "I began courting Astoria while Blaise and I were in France over the summer. It was actually Ambrose who set us up."
Blaise reappeared, carrying a bottle of red and a tall-stemmed round bellied glass.
"Playing matchmaker for his own daughter," mused my mother sourly, extending her hand for the glass of wine. "How quaint and very unlike Ambrose Greengrass."
She stared at me hard as Blaise poured her glass half full of dark cherry red wine. I silently protested the amount of alcohol being delivered to my mother, but she shushed me once more with her eyes and Blaise shrugged, continuing to pour until he was waved off.
"You really expect me to believe that he not only was fully supportive of this relationship but that he actually willed it to happen?"
"That part is true. I have to back him up on that," Blaise inserted, frowning and corking the wine.
My mother took a measured, calculated sip of wine, never taking her icy eyes off of me.
"You have nothing to offer her," stated Narcissa, "and our families have been on the outs for years. That wedding invitation Daphne sent me was a pitiful courtesy and I would be daft to believe anything different. As wonderful as you are, love, you are not at all in her league."
"Can't agree with you more on that one, Narcissa," Blaise hummed, clapping his hands. And then, sobering slightly, he met my eyes and sighed. "But Astoria has been quite taken with Draco for a while. She fell for him quite effortlessly."
"Do you think you won't find anyone else?" wondered my mother. "What's your angle here, Draco? You've always been so ambitious, so slow to make big decisions. I find it a bit ludicrous that you would jump into marriage so shortly after being with someone."
She was right, of course.
"You'd find someone, eventually, you know," Narcissa continued. "You're handsome, clever, you've got a fine career starting. You'd be able to make some woman very happy one day, but this woman? This family? Right now?"
I swallowed tightly.
"Mother - "
"Have you set a date?" she interrupted me and I shook my head, opening my mouth to speak.
"Astoria has always wanted a spring wedding," Blaise interjected from across the room, sharing a glance with me. The frown he'd been sporting deepened. "I would imagine sometime in May."
Narcissa clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and let out a sigh, taking another long sip of wine.
"We are talking about the rest of your life here, Draco," my mother said. "Malfoys don't get divorces, you know, so you'd better be damn sure she's the one."
"She is," I managed, scratching at my neck and avoiding her prying, suspicious eyes.
Silence swelled around us and tension crashed down on me like a wave dragging me asunder. Narcissa sat sipping her wine and Blaise lingered by the fireplace, staring hard at the clock on the mantle, fist clenched at his side.
"Very well," my mother finally spoke and gave a small cough into her handkerchief. "I shall owl Dorothea and get everything started."
"What do you mean?" I questioned, wrinkling my brow at Blaise. He remained with his back facing me, staring at the clock. "Start what?"
Narcissa appraised me curiously. "There are age-old traditions that must be maintained, dear. As mother of the groom, I have many duties to attend to, however limited they may be with you insisting on this infernal treatment. Oh well, I'm sure my nurses won't mind filling in for me. I'll go make up a room for her."
Sniffing proudly, Narcissa rose from her chair as elegantly as she could, though her movements were slow and forced. Her wine sloshed dangerously in her glass as she staggered briefly once she was on her feet. She recovered quickly, darting off my attempts to help her, and stole to the foyer, leaving me alone with my paralyzed friend.
"That went better than anticipated, wouldn't you agree?"
Blaise cleared his throat then, turning about and straightening his shoulders.
"I hope you can manage them together," Blaise said. "Narcissa isn't going to let go of her little prince quite so easily. Astoria might be in for the ride of her life."
"What do you mean?" I wondered. "It's not like they're going to be spending much time together. No more than necessary, anyway."
Blaise chortled at me for several moments before catching the confused look on my face. "Oh, you're serious."
"Serious about what?" I asked him pressingly, utterly confused.
"You really don't know," he laughed incredulously. "And you call yourself a pureblood, honestly."
"What are you going on about?"
"Mate, as per tradition, it's a rule in pureblood courtships that the bride and the bride's mother must come stay with the groom's family for a period of time, since she's joining your family. You'll be doing a lot of wedding planning with your mummy and your bride the next few weeks."
Now it was my turn to look sick.
Draco,
I'm very pleased that you've decided to honor our contract. Astoria is abundantly excited and Dorothea is beside herself to have two daughters married off, and of course we are relieved and so very happy she has decided to marry someone of pure standing in bloodlines. As such, my end of our agreement will be upheld and you may now have access to the funds necessary to help your mother with a speedy recovery, and of course with anything Astoria wishes for your upcoming wedding day.
I will remind you that the rest of our contract will not be fulfilled until you honor the additional part of our contract of entering into marriage with Astoria. A wedding date must be declared by the end of September or all medical treatment will come to a halt.
I'll be in touch.
Best wishes,
Ambrose Greengrass
Dorothea Greengrass arrived a quarter past noon the following Friday. She greeted me by kissing the air next to both of my cheeks and gestured toward her bags. I dipped down to attend to them and Dorothea eyed me curiously, almost disgusted.
"Darling, there are servants and house elves for that sort of thing," she hummed at me and her voice dripped with a sickly sweet sort of honey that made my teeth ache.
"We don't have servants or house elves anymore," I informed her and, at her gasp of shock and displeasure, I levitated her bags toward the grand staircase. "If you'll follow me, I will show you to your room. You'll be in the west wing, just take a left past the family portrait and you'll find your way if you get lost."
She reluctantly follows me past our barren floored foyer and up the creaking stairs. I usher her past the large portrait and down the length of our upstairs hallway, in the opposite direction of my mother's chambers.
"It's...charming," Dorothea forced out, smile not meeting her eyes as she assessed the guest chambers. "Old fashioned."
Out dated, she meant.
"I'll let you get settled," I said to Dorothea, turning to leave. "Astoria will be arriving around five when she gets off work. Would you like for me to send up some tea for you?"
"That would be very nice, darling," Dorothea crooned. "Is Narcissa around? I'd love to say hello - it's been so long since I've seen her."
My mother was undergoing treatment and most likely would not be leaving her chambers for the remainder of the weekend. The stress of having guests over and not being able to attend to them herself was driving my mother practically batty and I had to fight with her to take her treatments this week.
"She's out for the rest of the afternoon, I'm afraid," I lied easily.
"She sure stays busy, that one," commented Dorothea, chuckling to herself. "Be sure to send her up to see me when she gets back, dear."
"Of course," I replied, bowing my head politely. "I'll bring you that tea shortly."
It didn't hit me until I was downstairs putting the kettle on.
That was going to be my mother in law.
"Will your mother be joining us for dinner, Draco?"
Astoria reached over and slipped her fingers over my kneecap. Her eyes were bright and animated and she was practically buzzing with excitement at the idea of staying with us.
"Unfortunately, no," I answered expertly, stabbing into my steak. "She's come down with something, I'm afraid."
"Oh, poor dear," Dorothea simpered disappointingly. "Can we do anything for her?"
"If Narcissa is anything like what Draco has described, I'm sure she will want to be left alone to handle things herself," Astoria piped in, giving my knee a squeeze.
I returned the squeeze, grateful that she at least knew me well enough to know my mother would hate to be bothered.
"Well, please let us know if she changes her mind," Dorothea pressed, returning to her salad. "Now, have we set a date yet?"
I grew uncomfortably hot. "Er - well - "
"We haven't had a chance to discuss specifics yet, Mum," Astoria answered for me, much to my relief. She gave my knee another squeeze. "Anyway, we will get into all of the details once Narcissa has had a chance to recover from her bug. I just wouldn't feel right discussing plans without including her."
I had no idea if this was true, but I didn't care. I was just grateful for the topic to turn to something other than my approaching nuptials.
Dorothea eventually retired for the evening, leaving us with a wink.
"Behave yourselves, you two," she tutted, blowing Astoria a kiss before traipsing up the steps to the west wing.
"God, she's relentless," laughed Astoria, rolling her eyes. "Are you doing okay? I know she's a lot."
I patted her knee and nodded with a small smile. "I'm fine, Stori. She's not all that bad."
Astoria gave me a pointed look and we both burst into laughter.
"Well, we're finally alone," Astoria pointed out, tracing hearts along my thigh with her fingernail. "Whatever shall we do with our time?"
She glanced up at me through dark lashes and the intensity around her pupils made me swallow dryly.
"Er - we could read?"
Astoria gave me a playful nudge and looped her arm through mine.
"How about you give me a tour?" she suggested.
"A tour of the manor?" I repeated, glancing around. "There's really not much to see anymore."
"Show me your room, Draco," Astoria said, rolling her eyes as she pulled me toward the stairs.
My throat practically creaked as I gulped.
She broke our kiss.
"Hey, where'd you go?" wondered Astoria, shifting away from me. My bed creaked under the weight of us and her face reddened.
"What do you mean?" I croaked.
"Well...we were kissing and then all of a sudden - well, honestly it was like I was kissing myself?" Astoria explained. "Are you not interested in kissing me anymore?"
No, I thought despite myself. I turned away from her, sitting up and fiddling with the buttons of my shirt. She'd unbuttoned the top two.
"That's not it at all," I lied to her. "I just - I'm just tired, is all."
Astoria pouted somewhat and then nodded sadly. "I should go, then. Let you rest."
The disappointment in her eyes stung and I felt immediately guilty. I reached for her hand and pulled her back down next to me.
"Stay," I told her softly. "I want you to stay."
And in a sick kind of way, I really meant what I said. The idea of sleeping next to someone again, feeling their body heat and the slow rise and fall of their breath...it was too tempting to pass up.
It would help with the nightmares, anyway.
"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
I know that I'm dreaming, but it feels too real. The little boy at the foot of my bed was tugging on my sock. I don't know him, and yet he is familiar to me in a way that warms my chest.
"Daddy, can I sleep with you and Mummy tonight?" the little boy asks me, tugging at my sock again.
"Mum said he needs to learn to sleep on his own," came another little voice, less lispy and older.
A second boy entered the bedroom and he looked almost like my twin, except he had warm brown eyes. Familiar brown eyes.
Her eyes.
"You were scared too!" accuses the little boy with the riotous brown curls and wire rimmed glasses.
"What are you afraid of?" I ask, glancing between the boys.
"The ghost is going to get us," whimpers the littlest of the boys.
"Ghosts aren't real," says the older boy, but he keeps shifting nervously in the doorway. "Mum says so."
"Daddy believes me, Jasper," says the little boy. "Don't you, Daddy?"
I nod and the little boy hops into bed next to me, snuggling in close to my ribcage.
"You'll always protect me, right, Daddy?"
"Always, little man."
The woman next to me shifts, takes a long breath, and pops her curly head up to inspect her surroundings. She squints at the boy in the doorway.
"Jazzy, what's got you so worried?" she whispers tiredly, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
"Haden keeps obsessing over the ghost in the closet," the blonde boy answers.
The woman sighs, glances over at me and the little boy tucked against my side. She lifts her side of the comforter, beckoning the blonde boy forward.
"You can stay with us tonight, just to make sure we're all safe," she whispers to him, kissing him on the cheek.
She scoots in closer to me, jostling me slightly, and lays her head on my shoulder.
"Draco, wake up."
I startled awake, grumbling something under my breath.
"You were having a weird dream," Astoria told me, resting her hand on my chest.
My bedroom is dark except for the thin patch of moonlight drifting in from the curtains. Astoria's voice is thick with sleep and her eyes are unfocused.
"You kept talking about ghosts and jazz," yawns Astoria, lying her head down on my shoulder.
But her warmth isn't the same. Her breaths aren't the same, and when she scoots in closer and jostles me slightly with her hip, it doesn't feel the same as the woman in my dream.
Because I'd felt that warmth before. I'd recognized those breathing patterns in my dream. The curly hair and the wide brown eyes.
Hermione Granger had been in my bed.
And those two little boys - a perfect blend of her and me.
As I began to drift back to sleep, I could have sworn I felt a little tug on my sock.