Book 4: Astoria Greengrass and the Curse of Quennell Park
Song rec: "Build a Kingdom" by Woodlock

Draco kept his back straight and his manners impeccable as he sipped the horrible wine that Adam Greengrass had selected for dinner. He told Adam that the drink was fine and lied about the nuances of the taste. Because this was a test. Astoria smirked at him from across the table. She knew the wine was awful, too, and might have known that her father had selected it on purpose.

This was the first dinner that Draco had been invited to attend at Quennell Park since the 1995 Christmas banquet. This one, however, gave Draco no room to hide. Between Adam and Estelle, none of Draco's moves went unscrutinised. He told himself that he was prepared for this; glances at the engagement ring still on Astoria's finger kept him strong. Estelle was a Legilimens, and Draco had to Occlude his memories of nights with Astoria almost as thoroughly as he had had to protect his mind from the Dark Lord. Astoria, thankfully, was doing the same behind the occasional wicked smile.

Estelle wore a cocktail dress designed exclusively for her, certain to be mimicked by other witches in society but never copied. Her wavy blonde hair was rolled voluminously on one side of her head, a style that Astoria had inadvertently adapted for her own hair this evening. Estelle's fingernails were glossily painted like moonstones but kept short. She was a working witch, after all, and a now-frequent user of wandless magic. She seemed to want to convey that she needed no tool to protect her household. She had spent the evening speaking exclusively in French to pinpoint when Draco would lose his hold on the conversation.

Adam was decidedly overdressed for the sole purpose of making Draco look underdressed. Unlike Estelle, Adam was speaking in English, though it meant he went out of his way to use the language like a carving knife. It was difficult to respond appropriately when Draco had already been carrying the man's teeth in his throat.

The Greengrasses had made it very, very clear that they were being the polite ones by inviting Draco for dinner before the Malfoys had invited Astoria. Draco, though, expected his parents to treat Astoria better than he was currently being treated.

No. Not expected. He would make sure of it.

The dessert served was religieuse, which, of course, was challenging to eat with appropriate formality. Draco was cutting the pastry ever so carefully when Adam decided at long last to mention the elephant in the room.

"Every time I see Astoria, she tells me that she is going to marry you, Draco."

Draco very carefully set his fork in the resting position and looked at his smiling fiancée for a hint on how to proceed. She did give him a hint, but he didn't take it.

"I think of marrying her every day, Mr Greengrass," he said proudly.

Adam did not set his pastry knife down. Even Estelle glanced at Draco like she was trying to warn him.

"Every day?" came Adam's acidic tone. "There is only one day on which we marry."

"I understand the tradition of the Vernal Equinox, Mr Greengrass," said Draco with fake meekness. "I meant to say, 'Every day, I think of marrying her.'"

Astoria hid her smile behind the embroidered cloth napkin — the kind meant for hiding smiles, not for getting dirty. But Draco's had an obvious smudge of chocolate on it that did not go unnoticed.

"Draco."

"Yes, sir?"

"My daughter has threatened to elope you."

Your daughter is right next to you. Don't talk about her like she isn't part of the conversation, Draco thought angrily, but all he said was, "Astoria's threats are best heeded."

Adam's beard seemed to bristle like an angry cat's tail.

"You, I understand, would go against our wishes and elope her."

"Adam—" groaned Estelle

"Father!" said Astoria.

But it was all right without their intervention. Draco already had an answer.

"Sir, I believe you have it wrong. I simply would never go against Astoria's wishes. To be blunt, I have tried to obtain your word, sir. Now I wait only on hers."

Adam's dirty look did not go away for the rest of the course. The family Draco was not yet part of dined in a silence almost as bad as the hurdles of conversation.

Several uncomfortable dinners later, Adam and Estelle eventually accepted that Draco and Astoria were going to be together under any circumstance, and in a ditch effort to have some control over how, they allowed them to have their wedding at Quennell Park. They had even bothered to offer to train them in the tradition of Quennell's Waltz, and they looked ready to faint when Astoria told them that she and Draco already had their first dance memorised.

Mr and Mrs Malfoy-Greengrass were causing a stir as they débuted their own version of Quennell's Waltz at the 2001 Vernal Equinox. As they always had, the first nine moves started normally, if a bit avant-garde. At the tenth move, they started the close, tangled sacrilege they loved the most, repeating through the waltz in alternating locks. Draco didn't even remember how many guests there were watching them; he was too busy waiting for the turn when he and Astoria would be in each other's eyes again. Thank goodness he had been raised to learn to dance, because his wife and this music were unremitting.

Although he liked the spotlight, Draco was equally amused when the cue came for the rest of the Greengrass couples to encircle them and create the inner waltz line. Their dances had been determined by arithmancy, too, but Astoria had been right: they were not as exciting as theirs. The guests thereafter created the outer waltz line, and they only danced the barest form. He never thought he would be at Quennell Park to see any of it, and he certainly had not counted on being at the centre of it all with Astoria flush against him.

Draco encoded the memory of the whole day as an avid historian, but nothing shone as clearly as Astoria. From top to bottom, she was divine. She had a sparkling teal ornament perched in her swept, wavy hair that held the veil at the back of her head. Her eyes were the universe, and her smile was inextinguishable. Her gown was off-the-shoulders, shoulders which Draco may or may not have sneaked a hot kiss upon during their first dance. Her arms, covered in opera-length gloves, had held her enormous bouquet in front of her shapely bodice. Her gown had a charm on it to hold out the skirt, which had sweeping layers of pale rouge fabric accented by glinting green gems and culminating in a bustled train. He hadn't even seen her shoes under such a grand gown, but he would at some point, as well as anything else under there she might have picked out for the occasion.

Draco felt he looked quite spiffy himself, and it was wonderful how Astoria was dishing out the compliments to him as much as he was to her, no matter how hard he tried to outdo her with praise. He held her with pride as they stood for their wedding portrait, which was to be put in the upper halls like all the other couples. Maybe Adam Greengrass would throw darts into it, maybe not. Draco's parents were getting a copy of the portrait for Malfoy Manor whether they wanted one or not. They were hiding here somewhere, afraid to encounter Andromeda Tonks and Professor Sinistra.

Draco and Astoria admired their still portrait and thanked the artist for capturing their likeness so well, even during the numerous times Professor Sinistra had sneaked by to try to make them laugh and lose their pose. One day, Draco and Astoria would be old, hunched, and wrinkly, and they could look at this painting and poke fun at each other. And they would still spend their evenings cuddling and their mornings disagreeing on how to best brew the tea. There was nobody Draco would rather spend all of his years with than Astoria. And here she was, his goddess wife.

Oh, there were those darn guests at the wedding, too, and Draco had to go talk to them. Every so often, he'd encounter a stray relative who was pleasantly surprised by his impeccable manners. He knew some Legilimency, but exact verbiage was often beyond his current abilities. Thus, he simply imagined them thinking, "Oh, my, I thought we had all come here to see if Astoria was genuinely marrying a Death Eater. What a nice young man. Maybe we ought to listen to her side of the story instead of Adam's." It was what he hoped they thought when they offered him pleasantries and congratulations. Damn right congratulations. Look at this woman.

Once Astoria and Draco had formally visited all the guests, they were free to do whatever they liked at the party. Astoria and Hestia tried to do the Macarena to a classical bourrée, and Draco couldn't tell if it was working or not. He found his very awkward parents quietly sipping digestífs in the drawing room and sat with them. They looked significantly happier once he was there again.

"That was very nice with the hand flips, Draco darling," his mother said with deadpan humour.

"Thanks, Mother."

"Where is your wife?" Draco's father asked, swirling his glass.

She's doing the Macarena.

"Dancing again. I felt I'd have a rest," Draco said.

"Mm."

She already knows you'll be cold toward her again on our wedding day, Father.

"Did you speak with everyone? Introduce yourself well?" his father asked pointedly.

"Yes, Father."

"Good."

His parents weren't exactly brimming with emotion or conversation, but he'd still rather sit with their quietude than embarrass himself with the talkative Ciels. He knew his parents weren't going to participate in the festivities no matter how long he sat there, though, and eventually walked back to the ballroom. There he found Rhiannon, the witch of honour, spinning round with Teddy Lupin on her shoulders. Theodore, the best wizard, and Flora were standing by the window, talking boringly about the damaged wood grain in the ballroom floor. Astoria's other friends from school were doing a decent job of holding conversations with her puffed-up paternal grandparents, who wanted to know exactly who everyone was and how they knew their granddaughter. Even in the volume of the party, Astoria's sweet voice rang loud and clear to Draco.

"Oh my! Do you want to dance, mon étoile?"

It was, of course, little Delphini requesting the dance from Astoria. Her chubby arms were outstretched, and her fingers furled and unfurled. Those two worshipped each other; Delphini was going to end up terribly spoilt by her godmother. (Well, she already was). Draco watched in amusement as Astoria tried carefully not to trip the three-year-old with her billowing dress. Delphi was too smart for her own good, though, and seemed to have some sense that she was an ungainly dance partner for such a big person, so to correct the height difference, she started to float.

Astoria firmly gripped Delphi's hands as she rose all the way up to eye-level in a fit of laughter. Astoria "danced" with the airborne Delphi by clapping their hands together and slowly rotating. Mrs Tonks — Draco's Aunt Tonks? — who stood right off to the side, was immediately swarmed by admirers, many of whom told her not to worry — "she'll grow out of floating very shortly." Mrs Tonks didn't look like she believed their anecdotes or reassurances, but she didn't look distressed, either. Draco hoped that he didn't have any long-term-levitator genes hidden somewhere on his mother's side. He wasn't even thinking of parenting at this point, but if it ever were to happen, he had no idea how to stop a flying baby.

"I'll take her for a walk so she comes back down," Astoria offered to Mrs Tonks once it became apparent Delphi was determined to remain as tall as everyone else.

"Good luck," Mrs Tonks smiled. "Take her colouring book. Sometimes that works, too, because she has to sit on the floor to do it."

Astoria grabbed the book and led Delphi by one hand over to Draco, and they walked and talked with more people. Astoria hoped that Delphi would tire from the action and start wanting carried, but that wasn't the case. Draco grinned at Delphi; he already knew she would keep hovering. Mischievousness ran in the family for certain.

"Well, that didn't work," Astoria said as they walked back. "Oh, is that where your parents are hiding?"

She peeked into the sitting room and got her answer. Very bravely by Draco's standards, Astoria walked right in with Delphi fluttering over her shoulder. Draco was quietly relieved when his parents both stood for his bride. Rather than watch his parents force themselves to be nice, Astoria instantly used Delphi as an icebreaker.

"Delphi, this is Aunt Cissy. Say hello!" she said boldly.

Delphi finally started to shy, and curled in close to Astoria, pulling her veil.

"No, no. Here, come to me. There we go. Yes, that's Aunt Cissy! Hi!"

With Delphi on one hip, Astoria made a very showy wave at Draco's mother. Delphi peeked at her unknown aunt and uncle with her cheek squashed against Astoria's shoulder. Father made a comment under his breath about how "the child still floats," but Mother was hit with a surprising amount of emotion.

"Hello, Delphi," she said warmly. "My, how big you've become! I love your pretty dress!"

"What do we say, Delphi? Nous disons 'merci,'" Astoria encouraged her.

"Mercccci," Delphi mumbled after a few tries.

"De rien!" Mother gushed.

Draco beamed at Astoria. Her little icebreaker trick had worked well on Mother. (Nothing ever worked on Father, but that was fine). The Malfoy-Greengrasses sat across from the Malfoys unabashed. Astoria set Delphi down with her colouring book, which she scribbled across in giant strokes.

"Is blue your favourite colour, Delphi?" Mother asked her.

Delphi acknowledged the question and nodded.

"She's shy, but she's not as shy as most her age," Astoria chatted effortlessly.

"Oh, she… she won't be a shy one," Mother said, blinking.

Draco wished he had this ability with Astoria's parents, but it wasn't like he could bring a peacock up to the Greengrasses and use it as an icebreaker. Delphi had no concept that Astoria was in far too nice of clothes to get down on the floor and colour with her, and she handed Astoria a chunky crayon. Astoria charmed the crayon to colour on the page next to Delphi, and the little girl was amazed. Once again, Draco was not even thinking of it, but Astoria would — hypothetically — make a great mother.

Eventually, Father decided he must say something, and that ended up being, "Well, Astoria, that was a nice celebration. We enjoyed the selection of food."

"Thank you. I'm glad. We wanted to have plenty for people to choose."

"Mm, yes, Narcissa and I once went to a wedding at the Lapisdownses', and they only offered two entrées. Neither option was very good. Does your family know the Lapisdowns?"

"I can't say we do."

"Mm."

Delphi had finished her amazing work of art and tried to lift the book up to catch Astoria's attention, but she accidentally closed it with her chubby hands and got frustrated with herself. Draco leaned forward to help her open the book and find the page with the freshest scribbles. Delphi was happy again and pushed the book back to Astoria. Then she made a sort of gross noise, like she was sniffling without any snot. Astoria leaned down to admire Delphi's work, praising her loudly. Delphi made that noise again, and it really was sort of a weird sound, wasn't it? Draco felt like he was reminded of something, but how many memories could really be contained in a little kid's gross noises? Delphi had made that noise before, now that he thought about it. Maybe one of her nostrils was smaller than the other. Poor kid.

"Aw, are you making kisses at Astoria?" Astoria cooed. "Pch-pch-pch. Are you giving me kisses?"

Delphi giggled at Astoria's weird smooching noises. Astoria lifted her back into her arms and bid Father and Mother a goodbye-for-now. Mother watched her closely, and Astoria rather personally squeezed her shoulder on her way out. Draco saw Mother pat Astoria's hand in return, and it was very strange, but he was glad to see it. He gave a victorious look to Father, picked up Delphi's colouring supplies, and followed Astoria back out to the party being held in their honour.

Draco awoke naturally, and his first instinct was to stretch, but he didn't out of concern that he would disturb the sleeping beauty against him. Draco's upper arm was numb from his wife's head half-resting on it. She also half-rested on her own hand, which would be numb, too. Her hair was splayed everywhere across the pillows. He didn't move. He just watched her breathing, felt her soft skin on his side. Maybe it wouldn't be hard to go back to sleep. He shut his eyes again, enjoying her company and the softness of the pillow on his face. But he really was waking, and his eyes fluttered back open after only a doze. He pondered his trapped arm in amusement, and as he looked at Astoria's head there, his eyes reached the light scar down the middle of his forearm. There had once been something called a Dark Mark there. And it had burned, and it had tried to make him into someone he was not. Had it been ages ago, or mere days?

Draco didn't like it when he thought back to Hogwarts, back to the war, back to the Dark Lord. He was living a different life now, and so was Astoria. They had a beautiful house — all to themselves now that her roommates could live independently. Astoria had a job she loved, and he had a job he didn't hate. Any job was better than being a would-be murderer and slave to a tyrant. But Astoria had been there through all that, too. She had been there all along. Astoria was perpetual, no matter what life had thrown at them.

I love you. I love you.

Draco had tried hard not to wake her, but she must have been roused by his gaze. She made a darling noise, squeezed her eyelids, and slipped her arm across him. Draco took the opportunity to free his trapped arm and ease it upon a pillow behind her. When he looked back, Astoria was blinking at him.

"Good morning to you," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Good morning," she hummed.

She readjusted herself a bit, lacing their legs and finding a spot on his chest to rest her head. He stroked and gently untangled her hair as she rubbed her eyes, removing the sleep from the corners of them where her own scars were. Draco would have undone all of her pain if he could. But they were not in pain anymore.

Her hand fell from her face back down to his skin, which she had celebrated every inch of, as he did hers. Her sleepiness eased, and she looked at the sunlight spilling in through the curtains. Then she looked at him brightly and craned her neck to kiss beneath his jawline. She sighed a small laugh.

"You're my husband now."

He loved when his wife said that.

"I am. Forever. Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?" he said, teasing her hair.

"Sounds just right," she said, kissing him more.

He rubbed the length of her smooth back. When she rested her cheek again, they both looked out of the thin opening in the curtains, where green, sunlit leaves were swaying gently against the blue sky.

What a beautiful day we have together, he thought.

What a beautiful life I'll have with you in it, Astoria thought tranquilly, and Draco smiled because he could hear her.