Draco was glaring at her now. He had known the story was to stall the inevitable. He had not expected this little trick. He supposed it was her revenge, a way of leaving him haunted by more than just her death. He sighed into his hands. He really didn't want to kill her. And now, her story had brought up a wave of feelings he had buried for a long time. Maybe that's why he could feel the desperate need for an ending clawing at him. He, foolishly, had allowed the story to get to him.

Then, she says, barely above a whisper, "I suppose I could finish the story tomorrow." The silence is suffocating. He realizes her ploy. It is stupid, pathetic, and down-right not going to work. It wasn't going to work. One spell and he would be on a beach somewhere. Wondering how the prince got back at that rude little knight. Damn it.

"Okay. Tomorrow. Tell me the ending of the story. I'll be back tomorrow. That's all I can give you, okay?" Astoria's face lights up at her success, and Draco tries to ignore the relief that is spreading though his chest, because at least it doesn't have to be tonight.