I Love(d) You (Once)
Chapter Five: How Draco Spent Christmas and the Morning After
(2000h London)
Off the coast, faint reverberations of heavy bass drums and muffled screams of ecstasy pierced the night sky like stars. People of wealth and importance danced and roared in raucous laughter onboard the Parkinson cruise ship. Alcohol flowed and took the place of dead silence in awkward conversations.
"Astoria, I don't know if I told you already, but you look beautiful."
"I'm always beautiful, Theo." She touched the cluster of opals around her neck. Few women could wear the accessory with her aquamarine dress without looking like a tart. "Too bad we can't do anything about your uniform," she said, shaking her head at the boy's attire. She scanned the rowdy, screaming crowd and snorted when she saw Blaise and Draco feeding each other shots. "We don't fit in, do we?"
"No one's like us." He touched her arm and gestured at the people downing copious amounts of alcohol. "And I think that's a great thing. I mean, look at them."
"Queen Bee sure knows how to throw a party," Blaise shouted above the loud music and spun around in his chair to admire the flashing party lights.
"Does the B stand for Bitch?" asked Draco who was oscillating between therapeutic bliss and nausea. "That's Pansy for certain."
Blaise laughed. "Yeah, that word was made for her—Oh, fit bird," he said as a woman in a vintage dress brushed past him.
Draco turned his back to Blaise. "That one over there?"
Draco was pointing to a woman on a couch. Blaise's eyes widened when he recognized her. "No, but that's Astoria Greengrass, the one who stole all the looks in her family."
"Astoria was always beautiful," said Draco, nodding.
"Fancy meeting her here." They lost contact with most of their Slytherin house-mates (Crabbe, Goyle and Nott families) after the War. Last Draco heard of Goyle he had migrated to Finland and decided to settle there. He couldn't remember the last time he saw the Greengrass girls out and about.
"She gave me her first kiss. I think she'd still have a soft spot for me," said Draco.
"Ha," Blaise snorted. "In your dreams! She liked you when she was what, seven? That was more than ten years ago!"
"Bet I could get her to snog me."
"Wanna bet?"
"Your suit if you're wrong."
"You have to confess to Granger if I'm right," said Blaise. Part of the reason why Draco was so hung up over Hermione was because he had never admitted his feelings properly, so by confessing and getting rejected Blaise hoped he would be able to move on. Blaise pushed his friend off his stool and Draco stumbled across the wooden floor. Draco cursed and willed the kaleidoscope of light in his eyes to stop spinning as he made his way across the room.
"He's coming over," Theo said.
"I'm leaving. I've had enough of this party," Astoria said when someone grabbed her wrist. She bit back a scream and the silver charms on her bracelet jangled as she tried to shake him off.
"I'm playing a game, want to join?" he asked, pressing close to her.
"Who'd want to play with you?"
"Stuck up twat, sitting in the corner all by yourself, I thought you needed a friend! That's the only reason I—"
"Let go!" she snapped, ready to jab her sharp heels into the man's toes.
"Astoria Greengrass," said Draco and he stepped between the scowled at the man.
"Draco Malfoy," the man spat, the blond's appearance disgusted him. "I'm not going to bother with the likes of you." The man made a face and went off harassing other people.
"Thank you," she said and at the expense of being rude asked, "Why are you here?"
"That's what I'd like to know," said Theo. "I don't think he would bother approaching the likes us even after five shots of vodka in Hogwarts."
"We did use to play together," Draco started.
"And…?" Astoria said, crossing her arms. "We've ignored each other since then." When she was seven, Draco was the richest and nastiest boy who zoomed around the courtyard with his cocky grin, showing off his perfect white teeth. What girl in the right mind wouldn't fall for him? She had forgotten that Draco was such an obnoxious dork. They hadn't talked to each other since she was like, what? Nine?
"He probably is drunk," Theo whispered behind her. "That'd explain why he's so friendly."
"Are you?" asked Astoria.
"Am I what?"
"Drunk?"
"Merlin, no. Is that the only reason you can come up with?" He gave her a grin. "You think too little of yourself."
"He's drunk."
Astoria turned to face Theo, feeling bitter. "Go away, if you don't show up at the right moments then you might as well not show up at all!"
"It's not like I could have helped."
"Yeah, and you're just a kid who never managed to graduate Hogwarts. Go away," she said and when Theo looked like he was about to protest, she turned to smile at Draco, ignoring the puzzled expression on his face.
"I wanted to ask you a question…" Draco said.
"Ask away."
"A rather inappropriate question."
One-hundred percent, without a doubt, he's drunk, she thought. "I rather you not, I'm not interested in you that way. I'm leaving this party. Nice seeing you." She headed out of the ballroom.
Oh. That hurt more than Draco expected even though he hadn't talked to her for more than a decade. Still, when a pretty girl said they felt nothing for you, you would have to have a bulletproof heart to not feel its sting.
"I'll come with you," he said to the witch as she got her shawl from the coat-check. The Floo Room was empty. The night was much too young for normal party-goers to consider leaving.
Draco's pride forbade him to go back to the party. Knowing Blaise, he'd somehow manage to make him confess to Hermione Granger. If Draco managed to get Astoria's number, then he'd let it go. He couldn't let Astoria leave like this.
"Get out, Draco," Astoria said when he climbed into the fireplace with her.
"Are you going to leave me, who's this inebriated to fend for himself at a party like this? You know what would happen to me." He nudged her with his elbow and put on a convincing slur.
"You can't play the defenseless and vulnerable act with me," she said, rolling her at eyes at him. Bad idea. He had the saddest puppy dog eyes and it made her feel as though she kicked him. Maybe Mother was right, she thought. It was time to go back into society and start rekindling friendships. Draco Malfoy might not be a bad start. "You said you weren't drunk."
"I am one-hundred percent sure I am now." Draco was no longer the richest and nastiest but he still had his cocky grin and his perfect white teeth.
"One cup of coffee," she conceded. "Then we'll both be on our merry way, all right?"
"Perfect."
"Diagon Alley!"
And… she should have Apparated into the café. Curses ran through Astoria's head as she wrapped her shawl tighter around her and tread through heavy snow. All the lights in the lane had been turned on and a song played in the distance, faint, due to the howling wind. As if to convince Astoria he were sick, Draco tottered beside her, covered his mouth with both of his hands, and heaved a few times. However, this was all unnoticed by Astoria, for the snow touched her foot and she could only scowl at the thought of her crystal-encrusted Italian shoes getting soaked.
She liked her shoes—all three hundred pairs of them.
Draco noticed her trembling and took his jacket off, placing it around her shoulders. He caught her pout and stopped in front of her, squatting.
"If you're feeling the need to relieve yourself, I suggest waiting until you find yourself a toilet and having your pants off."
Draco snorted and patted his back. "I'm not drunk enough to eject bodily fluids uncontrollably. Get on. Your shoes are getting wet, aren't they?"
Astoria's heart fluttered and she was pretty certain it wasn't the result of a blocked cardiac artery. "If you insist." She didn't want her shoes ruined. She hugged him tight as they made their way through the snowy lane and felt the warmth of his back against her chest.
When they reached the café, they sat in a booth at the corner of the room. The café buzzed with chatter and laughter with children and adults alike. Draco leaned against the side of the window frame with a laid-back grin. Astoria took a sip of her organic soy-latte, and noted that Draco's espresso remained untouched. She leaned forward to slip a napkin under his cheek. She didn't want to imagine the germs crawling on the window frame.
"Thanks for letting me tag-along," he said. "I didn't want to go back. It only gets crazier as the night wears on. If you're best mates with Blaise Zabini…" Draco trailed off and Astoria motioned for him to continue. In spite of her contempt for the popular clique, she always wondered what the 'popular Slytherins' did in their wild nights. "He thinks I'm heart-broken. He's been trying to make me do stupid things. I'm not by the way," he said with a rush.
"Oh," said Astoria, she hadn't expected Draco to share something like that with her. "I am though."
"Am what? Does hanging out with me count as doing something stupid to you?"
Astoria just gave him a smile with a shrug. Draco tilted his head back until his head hit the wooden backing of their booth and an impish glint lit up his eyes.
"What is it?"
"Come over here," he said, "I think the couple behind us is breaking up."
Astoria raised one eyebrow and got out of her seat. "If this is one of your ploys to make me sit close to you…"
"Come on," he scoffed, "I would have just asked. It's not like you find me disgusting or something." He patted the spot next to him and pressed his ears close to the board, trying to decipher what the people behind were saying.
Curious and thirsty for gossip—a habit which stuck with her from her teenage years—she moved to his side of the booth and pressed her ear against the board, her face inches away from Draco's.
"Who's Belinda?" she asked.
"No idea."
"Unless it's Belinda Johnson?" She remembered sharing a dorm room with a mousy-haired girl by the same name. Astoria adjusted her position on the seat and her knees brushed Draco's. He looked down to where their legs touched and then looked away. Astoria listened with an intent expression on her face and he smiled. She was having much more fun with this than he was. Draco blinked a couple of times, hoping the drowsiness would go away.
"Oh, that's it?" grumbled Astoria as she sat back in a more delicate position. "Because of mutual differences? How boring. Don't you think?" She sighed in exasperation when she saw Draco slouched over in his seat, passed out. So he's the type to fall asleep when he became drunk, thought Astoria with a grin on her mumbled and Astoria smiled and poked his cheek, unable to help herself. He looked sort of angelic sleeping like that and she just had to mess with him.
"Hey, Draco."
No response. She poked him again, harder this time, but he continued to sleep. Astoria looked around her; the café was still crowded and even now, people were coming into sit and buy hot drinks.
"You could just leave him here," said the voice in her head. Or maybe not. There were two kinds of people in the Wizarding community: those who loved Draco for what he had become, a successful and functional member of society, and those who resented him for what he was, a Death Eater who had gotten full acquittal in his trials. She couldn't leave him alone in public like this.
She touched her wand and Apparated them away from the café.
Draco felt a tingling sensation in his belly-button; he'd come to hate it because of the impending response his body always had following it. "I don't feel so good…" he said, though rather needlessly as he presumed to empty the contents of his stomach.
Astoria screeched as he vomited over her sparkling high-heeled shoes.
Draco shifted his head on a fluffy pillow and glared at the beam of sunlight hitting his face; the windows in his room faced west, and they didn't get morning sun. "Didn't get to finish my dream…" he said, annoyed. He tilted his head, saw his shoes lined a perfect right-angle with the bed and frowned. "Strange," he murmured, still half-asleep. He yawned as he spoke and flopped back onto his pillow, screwing his eyes shut. "Why would I wear my shoes into my room…?" Then he heard the shower run and froze in fright. Someone is in the house, he thought, Why would a burglar break into my house to take a shower?! He was wide awake now. Draco remained motionless on the bed, for he was a coward and tended to be timorous in the face of danger. His gaze travelled up green walls and on the ceiling lined with gray tiles. His apartment's ceiling was cream. Draco sat up, turning his head back and forth as he tried to figure out where he was. "This isn't Blaise's place…" He frowned and tried to recall what happened last night.
Nothing.
He tiptoed and approached the bathroom, and noted the sound of running water had stopped. The door opened just as he prepared to put his ears against it, and Draco sprang back in surprise. "What are you doing here?!"
Astoria looked at him strangely while drying her hair. "This is my house," she said matter-of-factly. "And you spent the night here."
Draco's mouth formed an 'O' shape.
"I suggest you take a shower. After what happened last night… you stink."
Draco gave a shout when he realized Astoria had stripped him down to his boxers. "You took advantage of me?" he accused.
Astoria giggled and sat on her bed, her arms folded across her chest. She smirked at the sight of him trying to preserve his modesty.
"How could you!" He wrapped the white linen sheets around him tighter.
She wrinkled her nose and waved her hand in front of her face. "Go wash up, you smell like a pile of turd."
"I don't know if you know," he said, speaking each word very, very slowly. He often spoke like this to Pansy, half because it pissed her off when he talked that slow and half because Draco knew she needed the time to process his words. "What you did was a crime!"
Astoria gave him a look, completely unimpressed with him. "Who'd want to sleep with you?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "You're asking me that?"
Astoria smirked. "Okay, fine. Who'd want to sleep with a man after they threw up on the girl's favourite pair of shoes?
"What?" asked Draco. "I don't throw up when I'm drunk. Otherwise, I would never risk getting drunk at parties, a loss of control in public is embarrassing."
"You got that right! You were an embarrassment."
"So how did I end up in your bed?"
"Nothing happened," she said, squeezing water out of her long blonde hair, "You passed out so I let you sleep here."
"And my clothes fell off along the way."
Astoria scoffed. "Did you not hear me? You threw up. Not just on me, but everywhere! You were like Hurricane Vomit."
Draco strained to think what had taken place last night. Blaise forced him to get intoxicated to an uncomfortable level. That happened. He and Astoria went to a café together. That happened. He remembered pressing his ear against the wooden board to listen to a couple breaking up. Then Astoria had Apparated them… and… ah that's right. He recalled Astoria screaming when he regurgitated his entire liquor cabinet.
"Judging from the guilty look on your face, it looks like you remembered murdering my poor heels."
"I don't like Apparating, it always makes me sick," he tried to explain, "so I didn't get my licence."
Astoria still had her hands placed on her hips. She sneered at him and with a frightening sense of self-discovery; Draco realized this was how Artie felt when he yelled at him. "I'm sorry?"
"As long as you know I'm in the right and you're in the wrong." Astoria's expression softened when she saw his ridiculous doe-eyed look and was about to say something when a gush of cold air rushed past them. They both turned when they heard the front door creak open.
"Quick! Apparate out of here!" she said, throwing him his wand.
"I told you, I can't Apparate!" He caught his wand in one deft movement before he dived under the tumble of bed-sheets.
"Astoria Beulah Greengrass! Come out here and explain to me right this instant!"
"Mother," Astoria called out as she made her way to the living room, her voice extra sweet and innocent. "What brings you here at six in the morning?"
Draco made a hole under the covers and peeped out to watch the scene unfold. Mrs. Greengrass came into sight. She had pinned her smooth but greying hair in a tight bun at the nape of her neck and as she waved her arms in the air, the clinking ropes of pearls swung on her wrist, like pendulum-turned-wrecking-balls. Her eyes shifted towards the bed and Draco looked away as though this would somehow conceal him better.
"Is there…" she said rather breathlessly and she drew close. "A man in your bed?"
Astoria laughed and slapped the mound of blankets hard. "No, mother. Just extra fluffy blankets, you know how I am with the cold."
Mrs. Greengrass narrowed her eyes and her gaze fell on Draco's loafers lined exactly a foot away from the bed. "Really?"
"Mother…" said Astoria, rising from the bed and walking towards her. The small details were the things that always tripped her up when she lied! "Could you come again in a few minutes? He's not exactly… um, decent."
Mrs. Greengrass' eyes widened and she fanned herself with one hand while the other clutched the edge of her blazer for moral support. "Who is he?"
"I'll introduce you later," said the younger witch, starting to push her mother towards the door.
"I WILL KNOW WHO HAS BEEN SLEEPING WITH MY DAUGHTER!" screamed Mrs. Greengrass. Flecks of red appeared on her otherwise pale-white face. She pulled her wand from her leather handbag, Astoria tried to grab it but her mother had already cast a charm in the direction of the blankets.
With a swoosh, the blankets flew off the bed and revealed Draco in his huddled form; he'd been trying to remain compact to avoid suspicion.
"Is that Draco Malfoy?" shrieked Mrs. Greengrass. She held her hand up to her neck.
"Mother, your blood pressure."
Draco could think of nothing but to straighten himself into a sitting position. He tried to smile and fix his hair but realised showing his underarm hair to a middle-aged woman who had just found him in her daughter's bed did not give off the greatest impression. "Er, good morning," he said before Mrs. Greengrass collapsed into her daughter's arms.
"Stop smirking, Draco!" hissed Astoria. "My mother fainting is not funny."
"Who knew the shirtless sight of me could induce that kind of effect on middle-aged ladies?"
Astoria slapped Draco on the arm. "You're such a prick. I can't believe you don't know how to Apparate."
Draco shrugged, unashamed at the revelation. "Most wizards can't do it either. I can get two Ds down but I can't seem to visualize my destination."
"What, you have a short attention span? A memory of a goldfish?" she asked, frowning. "That's the easiest part."
"Maybe I hung out too much with Crabbe and Goyle when I was younger. My head starts to hurt when I try to Apparate."
Astoria laugh tinkled like bells. "You know what they say, stupidity is contagious."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Let's just hope your house-elf is done cleaning my clothes before your mother wakes up. Wouldn't want her fainting again, would we?"
Astoria picked up her wand on the coffee table and waved the blankets onto Draco's shoulders. "Just cover yourself."
"You are using our house-elf?"
Draco bit back a scream when Mrs. Greengrass, who they'd placed on the bed next to him, snapped open her eyes and locked his wrist into a vice-like grip with her fingers.
"That's what house-elves are for," said Astoria. Mrs. Greengrass glared at her and she shut her mouth.
"You two, on the floor!" commanded Mrs. Greengrass. Astoria scrambled to sit in front of her mother and Mrs. Greengrass sat like a queen looking down on her two subjects. Astoria sat cross-legged and pulled Draco down with her before he could protest. He could feel the cold floor through the thin material of his boxers.
"I cannot believe it. Malfoy—no, Pucey," said Mrs. Greengrass. She shook her head. "Whatever you're calling yourself these days—what is your relationship with my daughter?"
Draco looked right into her eyes and said smoothly. "A close one." One wouldn't have been able to tell he was lying unless they saw Astoria's fingers pinch his arm under the bed sheets.
"So you two... are serious?"
"I wouldn't say serious—" started Draco, smiling sweetly at Astoria but glaring telepathic daggers at her.
"We're more than that," said Astoria, reassuring her mother. "Draco's just shy."
"Well, I've never dated someone with such a unique middle name before."
"Right back at you," said Astoria scathingly. She gave him a sneer that would have made him proud—had she not directed it at him, and smiled at her mother.
"You don't fool me," said Mrs. Greengrass as she continued fanning herself. "I have to admit, Astoria must've taken a special liking to you… she doesn't let anyone near her bed." Mrs. Greengrass glared at him. "You will not ruin the reputation of my daughter." She stared down the young couple. "Since you two have decided to take things intimately, you will take all the appropriate steps to court my daughter starting now."
"I—"
Mrs. Greengrass held up her hand. "I never liked you, Draco Malfoy. Not even while you were in Cissy's womb. Always causing trouble and ruining the pure-blood image."
Well, that was hardly fair.
"…But this is the first time in four years since she's so much talked to a boy..."
Astoria stiffened. "Mother, that's enough."
Mrs. Greengrass shook her head with remorse. "Out of Hogwarts and not yet engaged. If your father was still alive…"
Astoria stood up and pulled her mother off her bed and pushed her towards the door. "I love you a lot, but please come back another time."
"But Astoria, I still—" Mrs. Greengrass said. She saw the pained expression in her daughter's face and decided to let her have her way. "Fine. I will be back later on in the evening."
"See you then," Astoria said, closing the door behind her mother.
Binkie appeared with a loud snap, making Draco jump.
"C-Clothes washed and pressed, Miss Astoria," she said, looking scared of Draco. "That's not… Binkie thought it would be Mr—"
"It's not!" said Astoria. She glared at Draco. "Shower and get changed. We need to talk."
Draco gulped. He had one of those 'feelings' squirming in the pit of his stomach again.
(26 December; 0630)
Draco took a sip of his orange juice and took a bite of his bacon, shrugging to himself. Not bad for a road-side café.
"The situation just then," said Astoria as she cut her pancake into perfect squares. "Requires explaining."
Draco waved his hand. He chewed on his bacon and swallowed before he spoke. "I totally get it. Your mother thought we were shagging."
"My mother thought we were in a relationship," corrected Astoria. "I am not a loose type of girl."
Draco washed down his next bite of breakfast with a gulp of his drink and shrugged. "I never thought you were."
"So I'm proposing…"
"Get in line. There's a whole fan club of girls waiting to do the same," joked Draco.
Astoria scowled, the expression marring her pretty face. "I'm being serious here."
"Fine," he said. "I'll consider what I know you're about to say in return for last night. You could've left me alone at the party or at the café, but you didn't. But let me tell you this in advance, I'm not interested in dating you."
Astoria drizzled more syrup and watched the golden liquid ooze all over her pancakes. "I know that. You're too busy being love-sick over someone."
Draco frowned. "I'm not in love with anyone."
"That's not what you told me last night."
"What?"
"You you were hugging me the whole night and moaned Hermione Granger's name in your sleep."
Draco's eyebrows shot up and he blushed furiously, embarrassed he was such an idiot even when he was asleep. "I don't recall doing that."
"That doesn't mean anything. You didn't recall spewing on my shoes," Astoria pointed out.
Draco exhaled heavily. Was she ever going to let it go?
"But just to set the record straight, I'm not interested in you either. I want an honest man with a head full of brown hair."
"Are you trying to be sarcastic?" said Draco, scowling. "Naming attributes that's the opposite of me?"
She cleared her throat and turned to face Draco before she continued. "I was thinking—"
"Oh, you think?"
Astoria slapped the back of his hand to stop him from interrupting. "We date, but as each other's number twos... or something like that. It'll keep my mother from thinking I've turned into some sort of wild child."
"Number two," he repeated. The numbering concept was medieval, but translated to modern-day casual dating. The system came from a time when life was more easily lost. One could die in a duel for dignity. Basically it meant you'd have a main suitor and maintain healthy relations with someone else, a number two, (so as to not burn bridges) in case your main suitor died.
"I'm not ready for a serious relationship, but"—she shrugged again and looked at him square in the eyes—"I thought it would be wise not burn this bridge just yet. What do you think?"
He took a look at Astoria who chose to wear a pastel-pink mohair sweater with black leather leggings to breakfast. She looked hot. Dating such a woman (with an all right personality, it seemed) in a semi non-committal was one way to live life. At least it was better than pining for someone he would never get and maybe he would even get over said girl (NOT THAT HE LOVED HER.) If he agreed, he would win the bet and claim Blaise's suit too. With that in mind, he nodded and said, "Just so you know, you'll be my number two as well. The worst thing that could ever happen with this sort of relationship is to be on uneven footing."
"Sounds fair. Just make sure it doesn't reach my mother's ears."
Draco nodded. "Of course, do you take me for a fool?"
Astoria shook his head. "Wouldn't have been sure. Look at the people you associate with. They're not the brightest cookies in the jar."
"Hermione Granger's the smartest witch of our generation."
"And you say you're not in love with her." She gave a grin and placed an arm across his shoulder.
"We can write out what being a number two means," he said, brushing her comment aside. "But I don't fancy the idea of leaving evidence in a physical form."
She smirked. "I couldn't have said it better myself."
(26 December; 0800)
Hermione swore as she tried to put her stockings on. "I'm going to be late!"
She finally found her shoes: the left one on the top of their messy bookshelf, the right had to be in the wardrobe... Hermione screamed when she touched something full of bristles in the corner of the wardrobe.
"What's wrong?" said Ron, dashing out of the bathroom with a toothpaste moustache.
Hermione yanked the offending item out of the wardrobe, determined to figure out what it was. Her mouth fell open and she glared at Ron. "What's this?" she asked, as she looked at the handle.
Ron dove back into the bathroom. Hermione sighed and put on her other shoe. "I'm going to be late for work so we're going to continue this conversation after I come home."
Ron's head poked out from its hiding spot. "B-But I promised Harry I'd swing by to watch the match…"
She glared at Ron and he gulped, regretting he brought it up. "Resolving this is more important, I mean... you're more important."
Hermione's gaze softened. "See you tonight. Remember to lock up the house." She kissed Ron goodbye but slammed the door behind her, annoyed that he had spent yet another part of their savings—on something pointless. And here she was, slaving away on Boxing Day instead of resting at home with a nice old book…
Author note: Thanks for those who have read and/or reviewed! I really appreciate the gesture, and it brightens up my day. :)