"You're breaking up with me?" Pansy asked, shrilly. She hardly ever lost her cool, but here she was, red in the face, unclear whether she was about to yell or cry. Her hands were balled into fists and Draco was concerned that she might strike him. She had never lashed out physically before, but there was always a first. Her brown eyes were narrowed and she looked quite terrifying, if he was going to be honest with himself.

"This hasn't been working for a while," Draco replied, simply. The two of them were in his flat, sitting across from one another at his kitchenette table where Pansy had prepared a dinner for them. He would have felt worse about breaking up with her over a dinner she had made if she didn't do it almost every night. He was going to miss her meals. Really, he was going to miss her silent company, her devotion, and the way she nearly idolized him. "We're only doing this because it's comfortable."

"Exactly! It's comfortable!" Pansy exclaimed, frustrated. She tucked her shoulder length hair behind her ears. "What more can you ask of a relationship?"

Draco sighed and looked away from her. Despite his calm demeanour, this wasn't exactly easy for him. Pansy had been his constant companion, whether platonically or otherwise, since he was eleven. It wasn't like her absence wouldn't be felt or that he wouldn't miss the routine that they had set in place; it was just that he felt like the relationship had run its course. There was only one other way for it to continue and that was for him to marry her, and when he looked at her, he didn't see it that way. He couldn't imagine Pansy by his side forever and he never had. Somewhere inside Draco's mind, Pansy was always been temporary. She had always just been there until the next good thing came along, and coming to terms with that made him feel immensely guilty. He had strung her along because she idolized him and that made him feel good about himself, but he didn't need a constant cheerleader. Now that he was out of Hogwarts and out of the constant contact of all those students, he realized that he needed people in his life who challenged him and didn't just mindlessly support whatever he did.

"Don't make this more difficult than it has to be," Draco requested in an embarrassed tone.

"Where is this coming from?" she demanded. "Is it that neighbour of yours? Daphne's sister?"

Draco was surprised that Pansy had drawn such a conclusion. "No. No, of course not," he shook his head for emphasis. "Pansy, you have been an irreplaceable companion, but I don't see a future for us."

Pansy bit her lip. "Is there not anything I can do?"

It was so tempting to take it all back. All he wanted to do was to tell her to forget everything that he said and take her to bed. Instead, he was essentially throwing away his closest confidant, the last of his friends from Hogwarts. He just had this sudden need to release himself from the image that he had always carried around with him. His last name was already a burden and he didn't want others to see who he associated with and assume that he still had loyalties to his old ways. None of this he would have been able to explain to Pansy without immensely hurting her feelings and no doubt earning him a glass of wine to his face.

Draco shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I hope that we can remain in contact -"

"Oh, eat shit," Pansy spat at him before she stood up and stormed out of the apartment.

In general, Draco found that the whole ordeal had gone better than expected.

The official paperwork sat before Astoria on her desk and she didn't want to fill it out. Nothing had happened that night she spent at Draco's except for talking, but in that amount of time she had determined what she had known all along: there was something there between them, there was some sort of connection, and she didn't want him to die, she couldn't let him die, yet these prophecies told her a completely different story. She didn't know how Seers did it, how they lived with all this knowledge. Well, in their defence, most of them didn't remember what they said.

She ran a hand through her hair and went to work. When she was finished, she added the paperwork to the ever-increasing file size made for Draco Malfoy. She shook her head as hot tears bit at her eyes. This wasn't how this was supposed to be. Her feet began to carry her away before she even knew where she was going and found herself at the office of her boss, Kenneth Lerwick. He was bent over his desk and seemed completely absorbed with whatever he was doing. She almost thought that he didn't realize that she was there.

"Enter, Ms. Greengrass," he instructed in his gravelly voice.

She did as she was told and settled herself in the chair across from him. Her hands gripped the armrests which were adorned with dark green leather. It was a bit of a faded look, but it suited the old man. Despite a somewhat grungy office, Mr. Lerwick himself looked impeccable in a sharp, crisp suit.

Mr. Lerwick closed his file and politely pushed it away from himself. "What can I do you for?"

"I don't want this job anymore," she blurted out, and found that when she said it, she meant it. "I can't."

"Ah." His reply was simple. "Would this have anything to do with Mr. Malfoy?"

"How did you - " she began, but he cut her off.

"Simon."

Mr. Lerwick truly was a man of few words, as he constantly proved over and over again.

Astoria rolled her eyes, but not unkindly. "Sir, it's just, I feel like there's a strong conflict of interest here."

"Are you and Mr. Malfoy..." he let his question end openly for her to fill in the blank. When she shook her head, he nodded. "Excellent. If so, you would be correct and we would, unfortunately, have to wipe your memory of the prophecies in concern to him. However, I'm sure that a simple friendship is not considered a conflict." He paused and looked at her with those impossibly light blue eyes that unnerved her. "Do you know why I chose you to be an Unspeakable over the other interns?" when she shook her head again, he continued. "You are quiet, you are precise, and, no insult intended, you are detached. You don't appear to have close relationships, and you do as you're told without questions. Some would see this as mindless subordinance, but I feel differently, and I'm sure you do too. Sometimes not asking questions is what keeps one alive, you see?"

Astoria just looked at him. She tried to consider what he said. For anyone else, this information might have bothered them, but for Astoria she took it all as simple facts. She knew these things about herself, and most of the time she cherished them. She didn't feel the need to always be the hero, she didn't always need to know everything, nor did she particularly care to pry. To some, she would be considered boring. Quite frankly, she didn't care.

"No matter what others say, your traits are something that money can't buy," Mr. Lerwick said kindly. "At least, not in this department. You are invaluable, and therefore I reject any kind of resignation. You will get past this, and you will be better for it."

She left his office, feeling admittedly dazed but also full of thoughts. For a moment, she had considered asking for her memories to be erased of Draco's prophecy. She felt that perhaps ignorance would be bliss, that not knowing would make everything feel better. However, a deeper part of her knew that if she forgot it meant that there would be no one there to try to save him, and everything be damned, she knew she had to save him.