The next morning, Draco slammed down the Prophet down on the table—not needing to see anymore of the smiling faces of Granger and Potter looking utterly besotted with each other as they strolled through Paris together. His Father had sneered openly at the article, but his Mother had hummed thoughtfully before taking a final dainty sip of her early morning cuppa.

"Do you have something to say, Mother?"

"Not especially, my Dragon. Although I did warn you of Miss Alphonse's Slytherin side. It would appear as if she's not being shy in showing off her friendship with Mr. Potter."

"She's going to make me a laughing stock." Draco muttered angrily, as he butchered his kippers into tiny pieces.

"Nonsense, dearest. If you do decide to take a consort, it would be well within Miss Alphonse's right to follow suit. You can't expect her to remain faithful to you, if you're going to be bedding another."

"But I haven't even decided to do so! At least not yet? But she's acting as if the decision's already been made!"

"Perhaps in her mind it has." Lucius drawled uneasily. "You haven't even attempted to contact her, to set up a time to visit? To try and find common ground?"

He sneered at his Father. "It's not like she's tried to get in touch with me either, Father."

"Oh stop it, Draco!" Lucius admonished briskly, "You're acting like a spoilt twelve year old. How is she supposed to react when you tell her you're considering a consort? You didn't even try to frame the answer in such a way that would give you an opening—because despite your protests, your intention was to hurt the witch, and in your arrogance, you never even considered the possibility of Mr. Potter. Even your Mother and I knew deep down, that there was a likelihood that Miss Alphonse would turn to the wizard. They are quite close and trust each other with their lives. What I can't conceive, is how you didn't think it was a possibility? It was you who started that particular rumor of them together back during your shared Fourth Year—if memory serves."

"Thank you, Father, for that wonderful assessment! I'd mistakenly assumed she was with the Weasel and Potter with the Weaselette. How was I supposed to know that those relationships had ended?"

"You might have asked before being coerced into a conversation you weren't ready for, Son." Lucius drawled out arrogantly as he folded his napkin, signaling he was done with his meal. "If you make no effort to try and court the witch, how would you suggest she take your lack of interest?"

"Who says I'm interested?" Draco growled out petulantly.

Both Lucius and Narcissa eyed each other with matching expressions of exasperation, but neither decided to comment on the obvious.

Their son was acting like a jealous fool.

Whether it was due to his assertion of being made a laughing stock or some other feeling, it was clear he detested the idea of his future bride taking on Harry Potter as a potential lover.

Setting down his napkin, Draco stood up. "I've suddenly lost my appetite. Have you heard anything from the Ministry yet, Father?"

"Our solicitor will be handling the details with the Wizengamot today. We shouldn't need to appear, but if that changes, I will let you know."

"Of course. Excuse me, Mother."

Narcissa watched her only child leave their dining room and once he was gone, she turned to her husband and wiggled her fingers for the newspaper, which he handed over with relish. As she perused the article, a faint smirk quirked up on her mouth.

"The witch is rather devious and clever." She hummed thoughtfully, before setting the Prophet down and pouring herself another cuppa.

"So you caught it too?"

"Yes. A time of need, indeed. I do believe our son noticed the double entendre as well, hence why he's in such a pique."

"That picture looks genuine enough."

"I have no doubt that there is genuine sentiment between the two. Is it love? I believe they love each other but are not necessarily in love with each other. There is a familiarity there, and a deep respect and trust. Marriages have been built on less."

"Do you think that our son, is really going to be accepting if Miss Alphonse decides to engage with a consort? Particularly the Potter lad?"

"No. I don't believe he will. He still isn't 100% convinced that it is a fait accompli, hence why he's being stubborn. I do believe that once he gets over his reticence and comes to the same conclusions we have, he will step up his game and do what is necessary to woo Miss Alphonse, as he should. If for no other reason than pride."

"She may see through that, Cissy? That witch is not a simpleton."

"No, she is not. However, I do believe in her heart, she is a traditionalist, and the idea of a cold marriage, even one with our son would not sit well with her if there was a legitimate chance for something more genuine and lasting."

Lucius didn't reply, as he had considered that as well. He also knew his son, and his penchant for not liking to share. But Draco could be stubborn and willful when backed into a corner and he had to wonder how in Salazar's name two such diametrically opposing forces would be able to come together and find common ground.

Draco at that moment, was in his room sitting in front of his hearth, staring into the empty grate with a resigned expression on his face. As much as he cared for Tori, and had legitimately wondered if they could eventually have something more—he knew deep down in his heart he couldn't ask her to sacrifice her future happiness for his own selfish reasons. She was still young, not even of age yet—and had a simple way about her for all her Pureblood upbringing. She had never desired him because of his status as a Malfoy—no.

She had liked him—Draco.

She had taken the time to see underneath all his anger and self-recriminations, to the wizard underneath.

And that was why he adored her.

She made him feel safe.

It wasn't a feeling he'd ever been used to growing up.

He grabbed the floo pot and threw some powder into the flames—calling out her name. After a few moments, he smiled when her delicate features shimmered into view.

"Hey, Tori."

"Hello, Draco, what a coincidence! I was just about to floo you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." She smiled, but Draco could see the slight straining around her eyes. "I suppose you saw the Prophet this morning?"

"I did."

"What did you think?"

He didn't reply immediately as he considered how he wanted to frame his answer, but after a few moments he sighed and said evenly, "I suppose I had assumed that Hermione was having a go at me when she threw Potter in my face, but looking at that article, I'm fairly certain she wasn't."

"No, I would tend to think not."

Something in Tori's voice gave him pause.

"What do you mean?" He asked warily.

Tori's mouth flattened, and her gaze narrowed in the flames before she replied, "I was in Paris with my Mother and Daphne yesterday. I just happened to be in the 3rd arrondissement near Flamel House when I saw Miss Alphonse and Harry Potter walking into his shop. When I glanced through the window, I saw them together."

"And what did you see, Tori?"

She heard the repressed fury in Draco's voice, but she wasn't sure exactly was the sentiment behind it.

"Potter had his arms around her," Tori just couldn't bring herself to say the witch's name, "he was cupping her face tenderly and the look they shared...well, you could tell there was something there. Later, I saw them walk out together and witnessed the impromptu press conference. Afterwards, I overheard Potter say something along the lines of 'should we just announce it now?' Then they left for the afternoon and I watched them for a small while, they were arm in arm but beyond that I didn't see any inappropriate displays of affection."

"Why didn't you floo me last night and tell me?"

"Draco? Really? Forgive me if this is difficult for me! I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact that you are to be married to someone else and despite the fact that we've never formally discussed it, I had always hoped in my heart that we would..."

He sighed in defeat as Tori's voice fell away causing him to grimace.

"I'm sorry, Tori. I'm not angry at you. I'm upset by the situation."

She nodded, and then her face flickered in the flames for a split second before she asked quietly, "Why did you floo me?"

"I've been thinking..."

"About?"

"Us. Well, more specifically about the consort clause."

"I see."

"I'm not sure you do though. Tori, you're still young and as much as I care for you and had hoped for a different outcome? That's not my reality anymore and I realized this morning that I can't disrespect you in that way. I won't ask you to give up your future for me. You deserve a wizard who can marry you properly and shower you with everything you deserve. A wizard who can give you legitimate children and have a family with only you. That isn't going to be me and as much as I'd hoped for differently, we both know the truth."

The soft sigh that fell through the flames, made Draco's gut clench in shamed impotence.

Why did this shite always seem to happen to him?

"And if I told you that it didn't matter to me?"

"Little, Tori, we both know that's a lie. It matters very much to you. Do you remember when we were younger? How old were we?"

"You were nine, and I had just turned seven."

"Ah yes," Draco chuckled deeply, "Do you remember what you'd said to me?"

Astoria huffed, but she nodded. "That I wanted to find my Prince and be his Princess."

"And do you remember what I told you?"

"Yes, Draco—you said that only the finest Prince in all the land would be good enough for your little Tori."

"And I was right. That Prince is not me, love. As much as we both wanted differently, I can't give you that, and I care enough for you to not allow you to sacrifice your dreams for my reality. I'm a selfish prat, Tori. Always have been, and you know this about me better than most and yet you've still cared for me. But in this one instance, I'm unwilling to put my needs first. I won't do that to you."

He watched Astoria wiped a lone tear from her cheek as she stared morosely into the flames.

"You're really going to give her a chance, aren't you?"

"I need to try. I won't be the one to cock this up. If she decides to take a consort, then I'll cross that bridge when it comes, but it won't be you. I won't do that to you."

"Of all the times you choose to be unselfish, Draco Malfoy!"

He snorted out a stunted laugh and nodded. "Yeah, well—don't let it get around. I can't have my reputation for being a foul, evil git ruined? Now can I?"

"Not to worry, Draco, no one will ever hear it from me about how wonderful you can be when you put your heart to something."

"I'll hold you to that. Stay in France, okay? I don't think I can bear to see you right now. I'll need some time to come to terms with my fate and see where this goes."

"I can do that."

"Good. Take care of yourself, love."

"You too, Draco. And try and be happy? Try and give her a legitimate chance to be what you need?"

"I can try."

"Take care, Draco."

"You too, Tori."

With a final wave of his wand, the floo closed and he fell onto his back, staring at the ceiling despondently—feeling his heart constricting inside his chest.

He hadn't wanted to end it...

...he hadn't wanted to say goodbye to Astoria, but he knew she deserved so much better than that from him. And he wanted her to be happy.

Rolling over, he slowly willed himself to his feet and decided to take a shower to clear his thoughts. He needed to figure out what his next move was going to be.