A/N: This is a 10-chapter series of drabbles throughout Draco and Astoria's life together. Each chapter can be read as a standalone piece, though there are plot points that connect. They are written and published in chronological order.

Submitting for the QLFC bootcamp. Every story must have a known Quidditch player as the main character. There are 50 prompts at three levels.

I'm in for: Hard: You must use the same character for all 50 prompts.

Character: Draco Malfoy

Prompt: 28. Story

Word count (before A/N): 1,064 words

The Best

"Greengrass." Draco leaned against the second-story balcony of the Malfoy Manor ballroom, his back turned away from the starry night sky. He had two bottles of butterbeer in his hands. When the younger Greengrass turned to look at him, her delicate eyebrow raised in question, he offered her one.

Tentatively, she took it. Turning back to the balcony's ledge, she propped herself on her elbows, the bottle now dangling precariously in the open air.

"Thanks," she said.

Music wafted out of the foyer, a string quartet charmed to play the classics—Beethoven, Mozart, Bach. Draco's mother had spent an exorbitant amount of time getting the spell just right after the ninth band turned down the gig.

Such was the life of a Malfoy after the war.

Draco thought she'd done a marvelous job. The music sounded effortless, and given that he knew just how much effort was spent on it, it was rather impressive.

Though, if he'd had it his way, there wouldn't have been a party at all.

"What're you doing out here, anyways?" he asked his companion. Astoria Greengrass had always been on the outskirts of these things. When Draco actually cared about the parties and their guests, he'd always see her sneaking off to be on her own. At the time, he'd roll his eyes and go on with his good time.

But tonight, he almost understood. Or, at least, he thought he did. He wanted to be sure.

"I like the fresh air," she said. She glanced at him sideways, and Draco had to take a moment to compose himself. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

"That so?" He turned to face the grounds with her, finally turning his back on the party. "You've liked fresh air a lot over the years."

"Mmm." She smirked. "It beats the stuffiness in there."

Finally, she turned to face him. "Can I help you?" she asked. The smirk was still there, but Draco could see it in her dazzling eyes that she was confused.

He gave her a small smile. "I was hoping you'd have a little more to say than that," he admitted. "I think I've finally come to terms with how ridiculous our lot can be."

He could tell he surprised her. But Astoria hid it well, instead raising her bottle of butterbeer to his. "Welcome to the club then," she said, clinking their glasses together. Draco smiled wide before taking a sip.

"What changed your mind?" she asked.

"Oh, you know. A war. House arrest. Losing my father, status, freedom all at once." He tried to make his voice sound less bitter than he felt. All those punishments for his role in the war, while he knew he deserved it, still stung his pride.

"I see." Her voice was gentle. Soft, but not pitiful. Draco liked it. "I just wanted to escape my sister. She's bloody awful when she's drunk. Tori! Tori! Oh look, Tori!"

A small scowl graced her lips. "I hate that nickname."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

They both chuckled quietly, letting the sweetness of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata blanket them in a soft silence. Draco took another sip from his butterbeer and looked up at the moon itself, shining bright above the grounds of his family home. He had three more months of house arrest before he would be able to go out into the world again. Sometimes, he couldn't stop counting the days.

Others, he dreaded going back into society.

Two years will have passed by the time he'd be able to leave. What did the world think of him now?

He looked at Astoria again, his eyes slowly roaming over her sharp features. She stood about two heads shorter than him, her dark hair pulled up into a delicate knot on her head. She wore an elegant burgundy dress, the fabric shiny against the backdrop of the party. It clung to her hips and waist like a warm hug, hung from her shoulders to reveal olive skin so smooth, he wondered how soft it must be to the touch.

Draco blushed. He turned back to the night sky, willing his mind not to think about touching Astoria Greengrass's skin. They knew each other, sure, but not like that.

Not yet, anyways.

A deliciously warm feeling sparked inside his belly at the thought. Maybe one day.

"What's so bad about Tori?" he finally asked. That was a safer topic at least.

Astoria pulled a face. "Imagine having this lovely name. Astoria. It sounds regal, almost. And then getting boiled down to something so common. Tori. Not that Tori is a bad name, mind you," she smiled sheepishly, the apples of her cheeks turning pink. "It's just not mine."

"When I hear Astoria, the first thing I notice is Story," Draco mused.

"Hmm, I actually like that. Makes it sound more like an adventure." She turned to him again, her brilliantly green eyes catching in the light of the moon. "Hello," she said, "Name's Story. I'm the next chapter in your book."

Her eyes lit up with impish delight as she let out a boisterous laugh that had her whole body shaking.

Draco couldn't help but stare. The warm feeling in his stomach grew bigger, reaching the crevices of his whole body, lighting him with a fire he hadn't felt in ages. He raised his bottle again, allowing Story a moment to compose herself before clinking it together with hers.

"That sounds like a book I'd be interested in reading," he said before taking a sip. He felt embarrassed at his forwardness, but somehow, he knew he'd regret it if he didn't say anything.

"Oh yeah?" Again, that impish smile returned. He wanted to run his thumb over the curve of her lips, feel her delight with his own fingertips... but that would have been much too forward, for sure.

Instead, he watched Astoria take the lead. She set her bottle on the balcony's ledge. Then she grabbed his and did the same. Holding out her hand, she said, "Only if you dance with me first. I'm not the type to just write any old story, you know."

"No?"

"I only write the best." She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the ballroom. Suddenly, Draco didn't mind the stuffiness so much. In fact, he had a feeling he'd quite enjoy the evening now with Astoria at his side.