Of all the ruddy things her mum could drag her to, a rehabilitation ball had never, not once, crossed Astoria's mind.

That's because the very idea was preposterous. Obscene.

Tacky.

"But why are we going?" Daphne whined from her side of the couch.

Oh thank Merlin, Astoria thought. At least she wasn't the only one thinking it.

"We didn't do anything, Mum. We didn't follow him," Daphne continued her argument, her eyes raking over the neatly lettered invitation Narcissa Malfoy had owled over that morning. Daphne was seated cross-legged and hunched on one side of the couch, while Astoria splayed out in her pyjamas across the remaining two cushions.

A vastly different sight sat only feet away. Astoria looked to her mum now, seated in her favorite reading chair, her ankles crossed like a proper lady. She was already dressed for the day, even though they hadn't sat down for breakfast yet. Every inch of her brown hair was precisely coiffed into a knotted bun that rested at the nape of her long neck. She had the slightest hint of a smirk toying at her rosy lips, but she wasn't going to let her amusement show. Not even to her own daughters.

Astoria loved her mum dearly, but part of her hoped she'd never be like the matriarch of their family. Astoria wanted to wear her emotions with pride. All while barefoot and preferably in Muggle jeans.

She took the tip of her big toe and poked at Daphne's side. "Let me see it," Astoria asked. Daphne handed the parchment over.

Sitting up, she scanned the words.

"It's not called a 'rehabilitation ball,' Daphy." Astoria rolled her eyes. Of course. That had been an exaggeration from her older sister. "It's just a small gathering. Of friends."

She felt her nose crinkle as she said that last word.

"We are not friends with the Malfoys," Daphne huffed. Again, Astoria found herself thanking Merlin for someone else voicing her own thoughts. "It's clearly a social move."

"I would expect nothing less from Narcissa," their mum said, still holding back her smile.

It was enough to send Daphne huffing again, her breath needlessly loud as she forced air from her nostrils, and Astoria knew this was heading toward a rather nasty row she certainly did not want to be involved in. She could see it coming in the way Daphne's eyes blazed with red hot anger. Just as her sister began shouting about how she'd never set foot in the same room as Draco-bloody-Malfoy ever again, Astoria slipped the invitation onto the coffee table and left the two women to have at it.

She didn't want to go either because Daphne was right. In a sense, this was a rehabilitation ball—the Malfoys were attempting to step back into high society. They were saving face after years of dabbling in the Dark Arts. After everything they did during the wars.

Astoria shuddered. She knew what happened in Malfoy Manor. Everyone did, to some degree, despite no real reports having been published. But rumors spread quickly between wizards, and when one's dad owned more than half of Diagon Alley, one heard things.

Then again, Astoria had inside knowledge. Draco-bloody-Malfoy told her everything.

Just a few weeks ago, to be precise. He had been sitting on a bench outside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, his skin ashen, his cheeks like hollow shadows. She hardly recognized the boy two years her senior in that person's face, and made her heart ache to see someone that… forlorn. So she had sat down beside him.

It was only a few weeks ago, but Astoria could still feel the sharp angles of the bench pressing into her thighs. Could feel the weight of her own worry crushing down upon her.

Draco's family, for obvious reasons, was under investigation after the war ended as well. Astoria's father was, too, albeit for a much less heinous affair.

"He took advantage of a bad situation. Charged double the rent on the properties he owns while he knew no one could fight back, what with the war going on and everything."

Draco had laughed.

"What I would give to have done that crime instead."

She could still see it, the way his laugh for the briefest of moments gave his sharp features new life. He gave her a gift that day, a rare glimpse into the person he was beneath it all. And for the many hours that ticked by as they awaited for fate's cruel judgement, they talked about everything.

She liked it. Talking to him. It was easy, somehow. And when the Ministry released him and his mother, she had given him a quick hug. A reassurance that this meant it would be okay.

At present, Astoria closed her bedroom door, shutting out her sister's futile screams.

Maybe a small gathering with friends wasn't such a bad idea.

"Stop fussing." Their mum gently slapped Daphne's hands away from her hair. Daphne, in a noble act of what Astoria could only determine was pure stupidity, had asked their mother to style her hair for the Malfoy gathering, but now Astoria could see Daphne tremendously regretted it.

"I look like you!" She hissed through her teeth, her fingers trying to tug a few strands of her brown locks away from her perfectly coiffed bun.

Daphne had always resembled their mum's side of the family—the wavy brown hair, the greyish-blue eyes. Both she and their mum were tall and slender, with angular features that could cut glass and leave men weak in the knees. Tonight, they really did look like twins in their black dress robes and manicured buns.

Astoria snorted.

"That's not very becoming," her mum said.

Astoria shrugged, her own black hair swinging off her shoulder in the process. She was a Greengrass through and through, short, curvy, and pale. She chose to wear a yellow sundress tonight, unwilling to blend in with the other women in her family.

The trio were walking up the pathway to the Manor now, the summer sun still casting enough warm light to see as it set behind the trees. The exposed skin on Astoria's arms and legs felt a bit sticky to the touch, but she could tell the night would bring the first taste of fall with it.

She'd be going back to Hogwarts soon, while Daphne began her internship at Gringotts. The very thought of being away from her sister hurt… she had Daphne during the worst of it. The world had collapsed and rebuilt itself in such a short amount of time, and Astoria couldn't fathom what that same world had in store next. Could she do it alone?

She shivered.

"I told you to bring a shawl."

Astoria was mid-eyeroll when her gaze landed on the towering white Manor enclosed behind a wrought iron gate. In the yard just beyond, she could see large white birds stalking about the grass. Light glowed from the first-story windows, and the unmistakable chatter of voices was carried from the house by the wind.

"At least we're not the first ones here," Daphne mumbled, her own eyes cautiously watching the birds.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"Will you two please try to behave?" It wasn't a question, per se, and when Astoria looked to her mum, she could see pain behind her eyes. When she spotted Astoria looking, however, her mum blinked it away, her face as stoic as a porcelain sculpture's.

Astoria really hated when she did that.

But unlike Daphne, Astoria wouldn't push or pry or argue or rant or scream. Instead, she followed her mum through the gate, which turned to smoke around them and re-solidified once they were safely on the other side.

"Oh," Daphne whispered to herself. "They're peacocks."

At the door, they were greeted by Narcissa before they could even knock.

"Lucinda, how lovely to see you," she cooed. Her hair, too, was pulled back into an elaborate knot, and her dress robes were a dark green. "And you brought the girls. How marvelous."

Astoria watched as Narcissa Malfoy air-kissed her mum, the women's lips never touching skin, just their cheeks resting softly against each other's for a moment before pulling away. She turned to Daphne next and did the same. Then Astoria.

"Lovely," Narcissa said again, although her eyes barely seemed to take any of them in. She stepped aside and lifted a hand in welcome.

Being inside the Manor felt just as grandiose and unnerving as being outside it. The walls were bone white, littered with portraits of Malfoys past. Large sculptures stood in the corners and crevices of the entrance hall, but not a single one seemed to actually be of anything substantial. Daphne and their mum were already following Narcissa down the hall and into the ballroom, but Astoria paused to stare at a marble statue twice her size.

She tilted her head and squinted.

It could very well be a narwhal from this angle, but she figured that wouldn't be Lucius's first choice in animal-themed decor. Tilting the other way, it was easily a manticore.

"You're an enigma," she told it.

"You came."

Astoria jumped, her hand already clutching her wand. She spun around quickly, pointing it at the voice.

"Sorry!" Draco took a step back. "I thought you heard me."

Astoria blinked, the shock slowly wearing off. Draco looked… good. A lot better than the last time she saw him, anyway. His face was fuller; he stood straight. The haunted look behind his eyes remained, but everyone looked like that these days. She pocketed her wand.

"Apparently," she said, hoping her voice sounded calm, "I did not."

Draco smiled. "You look nice."

Had he been reading her mind? "You too," she said slowly, her eyes still taking him in.

Draco was nearly two heads taller than her, his legs practically as long as a giraffe's. He was dressed in green robes, similar to his mother, though not quite as deep a shade. They suited him, Astoria thought, especially the way the fabric hugged the lean muscle underneath.

Astoria flushed.

"You came," Draco said again. "I was hoping you would."

"We were invited, after all."

They stood there, quietly staring at each other in front of the narwhal/manticore half-breed Astoria had already named Cornelius in her mind. What did Draco mean? He hoped she'd come?

At Hogwarts, they never really crossed paths. Daphne was in his year. She was even in his House, and she had said that Draco-bloody-Malfoy wasn't worth anyone's time of day. But that day in the Ministry… Astoria wasn't so sure Daphne was right. And a part of her felt giddy to have someone wanting to see her.

Right now, though, Draco looked like he didn't know what to say. Too late, Astoria wished she would have said something nicer in reply.

Instead, Astoria broke the spell and stepped toward him. She was greeted with his cologne, a mix of bergamot and cedar that worked really well to complement his model-like physique.

Dear Merlin, she cursed herself. Get it together.

She gently took his wrist in her hand. "So, I think you should show me where this gathering is. It appears my family has abandoned me, and now I'm lost."

To her surprise, Draco slid his hand into hers. He didn't lace their fingers together, though, instead cupping her palm in his much larger one. He smirked. "This way."

Her entire palm was sweating from the nerves building inside her chest, and suddenly Astoria was hit with this intense fear that she had swallowed a whole horde of butterflies.

She sped up so that they were shoulder to shoulder. Or, well, shoulder to top-of-head.

"Why were you hoping I'd come?" she managed to say. The butterflies were currently filling up her chest, making words nearly impossible.

Beside her, Draco's eyes widened, just slightly, before he steeled himself.

"You're a welcome presence."

"That's all?"

"Your family is quite influential."

"Even with my father on house arrest?"

That stopped him in his tracks. He looked to her now, the mask of indifference lifted once again. "I didn't know."

Astoria shrugged, letting her hand drop from his. The butterflies protested, but the pygmy puff was out of the bag, so to speak. She took a few more steps toward the sounds of music and laughter. But she stopped. She hadn't heard those words spoken aloud. Not once, even though her dad had been stuck inside for weeks. Her mum never acknowledged it. And while Daphne could rant and shout and rave for days when she felt even the smallest of injustices had been made against her, she never once cried for their father.

"We don't really talk about it," Astoria said, more to herself than to Draco. As if remembering his presence, she turned to him, an inquisitive look on her face. "Okay. Now be honest: Why were you hoping I'd come?"

"I—"

"Yow know," she stepped in closer again, "I liked talking with you, too."

Draco stepped in closer. "Yeah?"

"Although, I like talking more when you're honest." She poked at his chest. "Your family's quite influential. Rubbish excuse."

"I didn't want to be too obvious." Merlin, she wanted to wipe that beautiful smirk right off his face. Behind them, the music began to pick up again, the door to the ballroom vibrating on its hinges. "You know, I don't really feel like dancing."

"Hm. I'm a rubbish dancer." Astoria smiled. "I wouldn't say no to party food, though."

"We can certainly fix that."

She followed him further down the hall, away from the party, through two sets of oak paneled doors and down a short flight of stairs. Soon they were standing in a large stone-laid kitchen. There was an island in the center of the room stacked with horderves and all kinds of treats waiting to be displayed upstairs.

"This I could get used to." Astoria popped a stuffed mushroom into her mouth, her eyes taking in the wooden cabinets and the greyish-green backsplash. There was a fire burning in the corner of the room, giving the whole kitchen an amber-colored glow.

"Draco?"

Her eyes found him seated atop the counters loosening his tie. The disheveled look suited him, she thought, and she felt her face blushing again.

He was waiting for her to continue.

"At the Ministry, when I sat down next to you, why did you talk to me? It's not like we've ever chatted before."

He waited only a beat before replying. "It was the first time since the battle where anyone came up to me and talked to me."

"But—"

"And we've talked before."

"What? At these parties?" Astoria scrunched up her nose. "I wouldn't call forced socializing talking."

"No," he said. "Last year. In the library."

Astoria leant against the island, eyeing a bacon-wrapped scallop. The library… She couldn't remember.

"When?" she asked.

"It was brief. I wasn't… I wasn't exactly in my right mind. He…"

Then it came flooding back. "Oh! You found me crying in the Transfiguration section."

Draco nodded.

"My uncle, he died. We were close, and our owl had just dropped off the letter from Mum. You asked what was wrong."

"You told me to piss off."

Astoria dropped her gaze, trying to shield her embarrassment. A nervous giggle escaped her lips. "Yeah, I'm not very lady-like, as my mum would say. But then I called you back."

"You had me find your sister for you. Couldn't get into the Slytherin dorms, what with all that inferior Hufflepuff blood in your veins."

"Oi. Hufflepuffs are amazing creatures, I'll have you know."

A genuine smile broke out across his face. He hopped down off the counter and made his way to the opposite side of the island so that he was staring right into her eyes.

"I think I'm starting to believe that." Those eyes, they were like storm clouds right before the thunder crashed. Large and grey and bursting with life.

Astoria had to catch her breath. "You—you weren't in your right mind?"

Those eyes flinched, but they wouldn't break contact. "No, I wasn't."

"What happened?"

"I—I don't think we should talk about that. You—you wouldn't understand."

True, her experience with the war was nothing like his, and a part of her knew she would never be able to fully grasp what was on the line for him and his family.

"No," she said finally. "But I want to. Understand, that is."

"Maybe one day?" he asked, picking up a mushroom and biting it in half.

"Is that an invitation?"

"Only if you want it to be."

Astoria didn't know how long they stayed down there, only that she hadn't laughed that much or that hard in months. It wasn't until a house elf popped in hours later to tell the pair that her mum was looking for Astoria. It was time to go.

"I'll walk you to the door."

Draco wasn't the same person he was last year, she decided. He wasn't even the same person he was a few weeks ago. Time was starting to change him for the better. That, and the fact his father wasn't living with them any longer. He told her that tonight, though not many others knew about it. When the Ministry exonerated Draco and Narcissa thanks to the testimony of Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy was placed under house arrest. Narcissa insisted that house be any but her own.

It was pretty badass, Astoria thought.

"You'll come back next weekend?"

She liked how hopeful he sounded. He may try to steel himself, Astoria thought, but Draco Malfoy wore his emotions in his voice.

"I said yes, silly. I wish I could come back tomorrow. Talking with you is just—"

"Easy?"

"I was going to say nice."

He smirked. "I think wonderful is a better word, but what do I know?"

She playfully nudged his side, eliciting a gentle laugh. They were rounding the corner into the entrance hall where her mum and sister waited by the front door. Astoria waved good night to Cornelius before approaching her family.

"And where were you this whole evening?" her mum asked. She wasn't exactly angry, Astoria knew, but as always it wasn't quite that easy to tell what her mum was thinking behind her ever-stoic face.

"Our host graciously offered a tour of the house. Who was I to say no?"

Her mum's lip twitched, slightly. "Yes, thank you for welcoming us into your home, Draco. Do tell your mother it was a very charming evening."

The doors to the Manor opened as if on queue. Wind swept into the hallway, and Astoria shivered. Briefly, she saw the hints of her mum's comment about a shawl press against the older woman's lips. But before they could escape, Astoria felt warm fabric envelope her shoulders.

It smelled like bergamot and cedar.

"Have a good night," Draco said, now standing without his overcoat. "Till next time."

And before she stepped out of this house, before she let the magic of the night fade, Astoria stood on the tips of her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Outside, the three Greengrass women strode down the path toward the Apparition point. Daphne and Astoria hung back from their mum, silent in their evening stroll. Astoria hugged Draco's coat closer, still lost in the conversations they had.

He'd be going back to Hogwarts that fall. A repeat of his seventh year. And Draco was not too keen on the idea himself, but for Astoria, it was an exciting prospect. She liked his company and could only hope that she'd be able to see him around the castle, too.

"Did you just kiss Draco-bloody-Malfoy good night?" Daphne practically shouted when the silence clearly became too much for her. Astoria had tried not to look at her sister, knowing she was on the verge of exploding. But now that it was out there, she wasn't going to let Daphne get the better of her evening.

"Yes, Daphy," Astoria smirked. "I bloody well did."

A/N: I've written this for the QLFC Reserve League 2.0

Season 8, Round 1: Who Are You?

Chaser 1: The Lover – Goal: connection

Optional Prompts: 4. (dialogue) "You don't understand."/"No. But I want to."; 5. (emotion) hopeful; 12. (word) blaze

Word count: 3,362 words