A/N: I'm trying my hand at 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: 40. Star

Word count (before A/N): 4,279 words

Daco cursed under his breath, the sound of his furious whisper accompanied only by the echo of his footsteps clacking through the sixth floor corridor. His eyes drooped just as a yawn came on. Unfortunately, bed was not an option; the damned Head Boy had all but threatened the sixth year Prefects to get their rounds done or face being written up themselves.

Rounds. What a completely meaningless task. But…

But Draco needed his Prefect status to openly roam the halls of Hogwarts without suspicion. Quidditch, on the other hand, didn't offer such a wonderful alibi, and so that would have to go. At least, that's what his mother had said at Platform 9 3/4 three days ago before placing a chaste kiss against his temple and stepping back into Amycus Carrow's tight grip.

His stomach turned at the thought.

A year ago, Prefect rounds had made him feel powerful. In control. Thanks to Umbridge, he had called the shots. But now, he wished he'd never been handed the badge. Maybe then the Dark Lord wouldn't have strapped him with this monumentally awful mission.

Draco shook his head. That wasn't true; if his father hadn't monumentally failed his mission, then Draco wouldn't be in this current predicament, which included keeping up appearances as best he could until the exact right moment before all hell would break loose. The moment he would kill—

Again, he shook his head. Thinking about the end goal always turned his stomach. Instead, Draco focused on his shoes clacking down the hall, his mind running through the checklist of things he'd need to do in order to survive. Quit Quidditch as soon as was necessary. Do his rounds and play Prefect while secretly searching out the best way to get the Death Eaters into Hogwarts.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd figure out a way to protect his mother in the process.

He cursed under his breath again, the simple act calming him. He still felt sick, but at least he had the ability to complain about it. Others weren't always so lucky.

His shoes continued to clack down the hall, up the stairs, through several more corridors, until he stopped just at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower stairwell. He was supposed to check the tower tonight, but considering Draco had yet to run into another living soul, he opted to skip it. He didn't really care about writing people up or docking points anymore, anyways. Besides, he really should've been looking for a breach in the wards around Hogwarts or an unattended Floo connection.

He cursed again.

This time, however, there was more than the clacking of shoes to accompany his whisper; the faint lilt of music began emanating down from the Astronomy Tower. Draco wanted to curse again, seeing that some oaf had decided Draco couldn't cut his night short, but the Slytherin Prefect quickly decided against it. Instead, Draco mounted the stairs, going slowly so as not to give himself away.

He climbed each step methodically, the feel of the late summer breeze gently greeting him as he went. The music grew louder, something soft and sweet. Classical. He knew the tune, but couldn't place it.

At the top, Draco paused, still hidden in the shadows. He wasn't looking forward to writing someone up; the amount of parchments he'd have to sign and document were torture, even if it meant he could dock points. But before he could tell whoever it was off, he heard an all-too familiar sound—a quiet giggle, just as soft and as sweet as the lullaby filling the tower. Draco peered around the last corner until he spotted Astoria Greengrass, her raven hair tied neatly into a braid down her back. She sat on the ledge of the tower, feet dangling precariously over the edge, her head tilted back, eyes upward to the sky.

Since her back was to him, Draco took the chance to cast a Disillusionment charm over himself. Astoria was in Slytherin. He wasn't about to write up someone from his own house, let alone dock points, even if it was some fourth year with dazzling green eyes and a smile so infectious it could cheer a room full of Dementors…

Draco ducked back behind the shadows, his heart beating in his throat. Eyes still trained on the young woman sitting on the Astronomy Tower's ledge, Draco tentatively took a step back. But then, because he was weak and pathetic and just couldn't help himself, he took another two steps forward, mindful to stay hidden.

Astoria was still, save for the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders as she hummed along to the tune. A music orb sat perched beside her, the sad strain of a solo violin singing sweet nothings into the night. Above, stars littered the night sky.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to reverse the rising heat in his chest, something that had been happening with her much too frequently for his liking.

He'd spent one afternoon with the Greengrass sisters every summer while their parents would catch up. One. And each time, he'd watch Daphne storm off, unwilling to participate no matter how many promises her parents made to make it up to her. So, Draco and Astoria would sit in a companionable silence and wait out the visit.

Until they didn't.

Until, one day, Astoria had decided she'd had enough and insisted on talking. And Merlin, she had talked. And laughed. And smiled. And revealed a fiery personality worthy of the Slytherin moniker, along with a beauty so entrancing, Draco had found himself thinking about her long after the visit.

This last summer, however, there had been no catch up. No nonsense lunch for Daphne to storm away from. No one-on-one with Astoria, beautiful, carefree Astoria.

Draco shook his head.

This, he admonished himself, was ridiculous. He was being absolutely ridiculous. There were so many bigger things to focus on than a measly little—

"Who's there?"

Damn. Draco held his breath as Astoria climbed back over the ledge, her bare feet gently connecting with the stone floor of the tower. Without looking, she tapped the orb with her wand, silencing the music and leaving behind the subtle chirping of crickets whispering in the dew-stained grass down below.

She took a step toward the stairs.

Without so much a thought, Draco ran back down the stairs, heart in his throat. His feet pounded down the hall, down several more stairs, past a rather confused Grey Lady, until he was outside the Slytherin Common Room.

Only then did he lift the Disillusionment charm from himself.

Why he'd run, he couldn't say. The thought of Astoria seeing him all but sent him into a panic, and it felt like the right thing to do… until now, standing outside the Common Room, breathless, like the giant coward he was.

For a week, Draco waited to hear if Astoria had started asking around about a mysterious stalker who spied on people in the Astronomy Tower. But—and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed—she had not.

When it came time for rounds again that next week, Draco actively tried getting out of going to the Astronomy Tower.

"Fat chance. You've already played with the schedule enough to get yourself on the seventh floor corridor every week," Pansy had rightfully concluded. Draco only nodded, knowing that access to the Room of Requirement was more valuable to him than skipping the Astronomy Tower altogether. Still, he couldn't help the growing sense of panic—and if he was honest with himself, excitement—he felt at the prospect of catching Astoria again…

Which also felt ridiculous because would she even be there again? What if it was a one night event? Astoria simply had been catching up on her Astronomy homework, that's all. He was being an absolute tosser.

He was still thinking this as he mounted the tower's stairs to check things out. When he reached the top, Draco shivered, a cold wave of reality washing over him. No one was there. No one had been there since classes let out, Draco knew, because a celestial calendar lay splayed open next to the giant telescope, its tawny-colored pages slowly turning in the evening breeze.

Suddenly, Draco realized just how much he'd wished Astoria would be there. Curiosity gnawed at him; what had she been doing?

Why had he run?

Several more weeks passed like this. Draco became so preoccupied with the idea of Astoria in the Astronomy Tower that he quickly lost sight of his mission. In fact, it wasn't until a month later, when he received a threatening reminder from the Carrows that he even started to check Hogwarts' wards for vulnerabilities. He located the Vanishing Cabinet shortly after that.

And soon, all thoughts of Astoria drifted to the wayside.

The days grew shorter, the nights colder. Christmas was fast approaching, the holidays looming in the distance like a brewing thunderstorm, its lightning ready to strike. Draco had barely made any progress, and with each passing day, it got harder and harder to breathe. Like there was an oliphant standing on his chest, weighing him down from the inside out.

Salazar knew what was in store for him when he got home with no successes under his belt. He could only hope his mother was safe.

He wiped at his eyes. Walking his rounds yet again, Draco's mind kept playing tricks on him, invading his thoughts with the intrusive thought of his mother dying. Murdered at the hands of the Dark Lord.

Try as he might, Draco couldn't shake the thought that if he failed, she would be the first to suffer for it. Then himself. He desperately tried to conjure up any another thought, anything at all just to block out the fictive image of her lifeless body strewn about on the Manor's drawing room floor. Little helped.

He wiped his eyes again.

Slowly, without really taking in his surroundings, Draco walked the corridors of the castle. He only paused a moment at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower when quiet music drifted down the stairwell, a lone violin singing sweet nothings for its audience.

Draco climbed without a second thought.

At the top, he was greeted with the familiar sight of Astoria leaning against the tower's ledge, eyes trained on the starry sky. He took a deep breath, his lungs desperate after his sudden flight up the stairs. As he exhaled, Draco leaned against the stone wall, his eyes drifting shut as his mind finally calmed. Somehow, the familiar outline of Astoria's back against the backdrop of night rendered his mind blank. Tension left his shoulders. His hands unclenched. For the first time in months, he felt light.

"Can I help you?"

Draco startled, eyes flying open, as Astoria turned her head toward him, a knowing look caught in her emerald eyes. Damn. He hadn't stayed in the shadows.

A need to hide suddenly took over, and he tried to Disapparate then and there, completely caught off guard by the young woman's stare. But that action only proved to make him feel sick when his body went nowhere while his magic stuck to his insides like paste as it tried to escape.

Astoria cocked an eyebrow.

"Rounds," he managed, completely winded by his futile escape attempt. "Prefect."

"Ah." She smiled the kind of smile Draco's mother would have reserved only for close friends or family. Her whole face lit up under the light of the waning moon, her cheeks tinted rosy in its pale glow. "I suppose that means I should leave."

"No," he said before he could think. He didn't want her to leave, not yet, not when he'd finally caught her again. For whatever reason, this space, her actions, the music, Astoria herself… it made all the turmoil melt into the shadows. He'd do anything to keep peace, even if the moment was fleeting.

Till, of course, he saw her eyes searching him from across the room, a question already playing at her lips. Draco stood straight, shoving his hands into his robe pockets.

"I mean, you should leave before another Prefect finds you," he tried. "But you don't have to yet," he added as an afterthought. He half expected her to press him further, try to find out exactly why he'd told her to stay. Panic began to build again, drowning out the peace he'd just gotten a taste of. Instead of wallowing at the loss, he blurted out, "What are you doing up here, anyway?"

Again she smiled, this time turning back to the night sky. Her eyes lingered on the inky black, night reflecting in her irises. "You see that star?" she asked, nodding for him to join her. For Draco, it was the best invitation he'd ever received, and he wasn't even sure it was one.

Tentatively, he took a step toward Astoria and the ledge. He did his best to remain far enough away so he wouldn't accidentally brush against her, afraid of the effects a touch like that would have on him. Once close enough to lean on the Astronomy Tower's stone wall, he looked up. The world was smattered in stars, tiny little specks of far-off gas forever spinning in nighttime. There were at least a thousand stars. Hundreds of thousands. More stars than people on earth.

"Sure," Draco replied.

"No." She laughed. Not unkindly, but in a rather endearing way. He had lied, and she knew it. "That one." Her finger extended past her arm toward the sky above. It didn't help narrow it down to the one star she was talking about, but Draco leaned over the ledge anyways. "The bright one," she finally said, "there. Off in the distance."

Draco watched Astoria's hand drop to her side. Her face never left the sky.

"Why are you watching that one?" he asked. That one remained a mystery to him. Astoria it seemed knew this as well and promptly closed the distance between herself and Draco. Without much notice, she wrapped her one arm around his, her forehead resting gently against his shoulder. As her body pressed into his side, Draco felt the skin on his neck warm, every little hair tickling against his skin. His arm was on fire. A glorious, red-hot flame burning from bone to skin, igniting his blood and making his heart pound like a bass drum.

Draco realized for the first time that he was a whole head taller than her, maybe even more. Dropping his chin to look into her face, he watched her search out the star again before pointing. Draco angled his body to match hers. His eyes followed the length of her fingertip, though the action did little to distract him from the scent of honey and pears coming from Astoria's long raven-colored hair.

"It's the brightest one." She interrupted his thoughts. "It's silly, but at the beginning of term, Professor Sinistra spotted that star and told us it'd be one to watch. Stars get extremely bright right before they flicker out and die."

A short silence filled the space, save for the violin still emanating from the music orb in front of them. Draco looked to Astoria. "So you're up here waiting for it to… die?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds morbid." She gave his arm a small squeeze. "It's a little more complicated than that for me, but in so many words, yes. I'm waiting around to watch that star," and again she punctuated the words by waving her pointer finger, "to see what happens. And maybe keep it company, so it's not alone when it fades away."

Draco looked back up. The star in question suddenly burned into sight, a radiant beacon of energy billions of miles away shining down on the pair. Astoria still had her head resting softly against his bicep, rendering him motionless. He was too afraid to move or breathe in fear Astoria would release him, taking her warmth and her kindness with her.

For so many months, Draco had yearned for just an ounce of kindness. Any reprieve from the hell he'd been dealt. He surprised himself, too, now realizing that just a few minutes alone with Astoria on the Astronomy Tower's ledge had made his intrusive thoughts disappear.

Yet despite the warmth radiating from Astoria's touch, a rock began to form in the pit of his stomach. He was sinking, drowning. Fizzling out like a brilliant star. No mere encounter with a beautiful girl in the dark corners of Hogwarts could erase what he had to do. No amount of kindness would absolve him of his future misdeeds.

But maybe—

"I missed our get together this summer." Astoria broke the silence that had been growing between them.

Draco blinked, bringing himself back to her. To that moment. "My father—" he started.

"I know."

After a few more minutes, Draco said, "I missed it, too."

She sighed, her eyes lingering on her star shining bright up above.

Yes, he thought. Yes, he was still destined to follow through on his mission; his mother's life depended on it. But maybe he could spend this night with Astoria anyways, a companion to her own brilliant glow.

They didn't plan it, it was never spoken aloud, but soon Draco found himself with Astoria on most Friday evenings watching the night sky. Every Friday, he raced the tower's stairs, heart in his throat, desperately hoping that the star had not faded yet. That this one good thing wasn't over.

Astoria was always kind. Always patient. Always pointing out the star when Draco had trouble locating it.

She rarely mentioned the way he looked. The way his stomach started to shrink and the way his skin took on a shimmer of grey. She mentioned only once the dark circles underlining his eyes, a simple comment about looking tired, before putting that conversation to rest and instead spending the evening with her head against his arm talking about her uncle Hyperion and his many adventures abroad.

Outside this little Astoria bubble, Draco had begun missing Prefect rounds regularly. Quidditch was indeed a thing of the past. Any free moment allotted outside of Astoria was dedicated to the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement.

His mind was completely restless.

But for one night each week, one glorious, carefree night, he could put it all to rest.

Tonight was different. Draco could feel it as he ascended the stairwell, his one hand resting protectively across his stomach, the other clutching the railing. He leaned on it, allowing himself this moment alone to give in to the pain. He was determined to keep up appearances with Astoria once he reached the top.

However, once there, Draco nearly fell back down the stairs as Astoria rushed him, her arms wrapping around his middle, her head buried in his chest.

His heart beat jumped as he slid his own hands around her shoulders, fingers grazing the soft locks of her hair. She still smelled like honey and pears, a scent so sweet and familiar to him now that Draco often found himself dreaming of honeybees in fruit orchards, Astoria smiling in the sun.

Just a dream, he'd tell himself. Just a far away dream, burning brightly billions of miles away in a never-ending night sky.

Here, at the top of the Astronomy Tower, Astoria squeezed him, her nose pressing into the cavity between his ribs. He could feel her breath through his thin shirt, warm puffs as sweet as stolen kisses.

"Gods, I was so worried," she said, voice muffled. Draco was doing everything in his power to focus on the closeness of her, the feel of her hair tickling his hands, the warmth of her body pressed into his.

But the fresh scars lining his body flared, a roadmap of lightning itching across his skin. He grimaced, careful to school his face once Astoria pulled back. She kept her arms on his though, an action Draco did not miss.

"What even happened?" she asked. Tears filled her emerald eyes, making them shine. He didn't like seeing her upset. Not for him. He also didn't want to talk about what had happened with Potter in the bathroom either; the Hogwarts rumor mill certainly clued her in enough. He didn't need Astoria to know exactly why he'd been crying in the loo to begin with.

"Is it still there?" he asked instead, pulling away and walking toward the tower's ledge. He hated himself for dodging her questions. He hated how he instantly missed her hands on his.

"Yes," she said, a quiet sniff following. From the corner of his eye, Draco watched Astoria wipe her own dry before coming to stand beside him. She kept a small gap between them now, which he hated even more than he hated evading her.

She never left a gap between them anymore.

Draco peered up into the night sky, their star—because it had become theirs—peeked at them from its spot in the inky blackness. Bright as ever. Burning out.

"I'm okay," Draco finally said. "It was—quick."

When Astoria didn't respond, he continued. "Quick in that it all happened so fast, I barely knew what was happening until I was in the Hospital Wing."

"You don't have to tell me." Her words came out in a whisper. "I shouldn't have asked. You—it's not like you owe me—"

"I want to tell you," he turned to her, eyes dropping from the star, "I'd tell you anything you'd want to hear. It's just hard to."

"Hard to talk about it?" She turned to him too.

"Hard to talk to you."

"Me?"

"Because I want to be—" He swallowed the word he was going to say, his eyes unable to hold their gaze with hers any longer. She looked at him like he was their star. Like she saw him burning just as brightly far, far away, and he couldn't possibly say the words he wanted to. She'd laugh, certainly.

"You want to…" Astoria's hand found his again. Her knuckles brushed against his, so soft at first, a tentative request. Draco grabbed at her, gently pulling her closer, finally eliminating the gap between them.

Astoria's head fell to his chest again. Her arms laced around his middle. He didn't care that the scars from Potter's curse burned under her touch; he cared only for the scent of honey and pears, for the rise and fall of her chest pressed against his, for the way she sighed just before melting into him. She fit perfectly. His heart nearly broke.

"I want to be brave for you, Astoria," he whispered, more scared than he'd ever been in his life. "But I can't, because of—my father. What he did."

"You've lost a lot of weight, Draco." Her words weren't unkind. Stern, perhaps. Scared. "And you look so sick. Whatever it is, I can—"

"You can't." He squeezed her, resting his chin atop her hair. "You can't. But this, the star, being here with you…"

He didn't have to finish that thought; Astoria was already nodding. She understood he needed this more than words could say.

Far off in the distance, the star shined on.

Relief flooded his body for only a few moments, knowing it was finally over, before regret overtook him. Draco watched in horror as Dumbledore's body tumbled backwards, not at his own hands but at the hands of his mentor, and disappeared over the Astronomy Tower's ledge.

He hadn't murdered anyone. He wasn't to blame.

And yet. Someone was still dead. Draco nearly threw up.

He looked toward the empty space where the headmaster had just stood, his eyes searching for the old man, knowing he was gone. Knowing he took his promises of safety with him.

Knowing this was all wrong.

Briefly, Draco's gaze darted up into the night sky, searching past the haze of the Dark Mark for the star. He needed to see it, one last time, here, where he'd found solace only nights before with Astoria. Here, where his dreams often took him, away from his fears.

But the star was invisible to him, and Dumbledore was dead, and Astoria…

Astoria would never forgive him, would she?

Would he forgive himself?

Before he could process that question, Snape dragged Draco from the top of the Astronomy Tower. One last glance toward the night sky proved futile, and Draco had a sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, the star had finally fizzled out. Faded away. Was lost to this lifetime…

As he fled with the Death Eaters, Draco couldn't help but feel as though his own shine had fizzled out. Numb, he kept thinking about the blackhole of destruction he was leaving in his wake. Would he ever come up for air again, he thought as more and more spells flew by.

Would he be worthy enough to try?

Astoria's voice tickled at the back of his mind, both devastating him and giving him a strange sense of hope despite what was happening around him. Even though stars die, she had told him months ago, they still left behind tiny pieces of themselves. Stardust destined to rise again, become something more—new planets, new stars. Gone but not forgotten. Vanished, but with a purpose.

As Bellatrix grabbed his wrist to Disapparate, Draco could only hope he'd have enough of his own pieces still intact to make up for this. To become something more one day, when it was all said and done.