"Out of my way," Draco shouted, attempting to push his way through the horde of Hufflepuffs that had the gall to meander in front of his path. Too many bloody people about with the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Hogwarts this year. Most of 'em Halfbloods and Mudbloods. Made Draco sick and the tournament stopped being fun when Potter was chosen as the fourth contestant, a feat that was impossible for anyone that wasn't 'The Boy Who Lived'. At least there was the chance that he would die during one of the tasks.

To make matters worse, the Hufflepuffs were not moving. "Alright," he said, signaling to the two very large boys behind him that it was go time. Crabbe and Goyle flanked Draco's sides and shoved anyone within reach out of the way. Draco even took to time to personally push a first year over before it had traveled through the crowd that Malfoy and his goons were moving through.

"I see that your arm has healed quite nicely," a slow, quiet voice from behind said. It stopped Draco dead in his tracks, right when he was finally making ground across the courtyard.

"Greengrass. I thought you had died." He spun around on his heel to face the third year. In comparison to their first meeting, Astoria looked much better now. In the sunlight her hair was chestnut brown, cut and curled just below her chin. She seemed healthier: her cheeks had color and she no longer held a resemblance to a walking skeleton.

"Yes, I was away for awhile." Awhile was a bit of an understatement, Draco thought. Try a year (not that he was looking for her or anything, it's just that she was so strange and so ill looking and why should he care?).

When he awoke the morning after they met, her bed was empty and made up as if there had not been a very sick little girl sleeping there the night before. Draco had spent five minutes staring at it, perplexed, and then another seven days thinking that she had been the product of some sort of bizarre dream.

This facade was broken when Daphne received an owl at breakfast one morning from St. Mungo's. Her expression changed from a polite disinterest (Pansy Parkinson could talk for hours at a time without stopping) to a more frantic worry. She stashed the letter and dodged questions, brushing it off as a Great Aunt somewhere with dragon pox.

"I heard your sister was at St. Mungo's." It was a risk on Draco's part, but one that he was willing to take. What if Astoria was just a figment of his poor, fevered imagination?

"Daphne doesn't have a sister," Pansy interrupted her friend just as she opened her mouth.

"Yeah she does," Tracey Davis, a small blond girl with pixie-like features said. "The Hufflepuff."

"Oh my God, your sister was sorted into Hufflepuff!" Blaise found that he could not control the urge to let out a very loud 'HAHA!'. This 'haha' was followed by a series of laughs that was only stopped when Daphne gave him a very severe look.

She turned to Draco. "How'd you know that?" she asked in a low and dangerous voice.

"Met her in the infirmary, when I was recovering. She's bloody weird, you know," Draco explained nonchalantly, picking at his toast.

"Don't talk to my sister, Malfoy," she hissed. Her look was sour and her eyes were narrowed. Draco noticed that they were the same shade of hazel as Astoria's.

"She talked to me, Greengrass. Why would I waste my time with a Huffepluff?" Draco sneered.

Daphne huffed. "Excuse me, I have some studying to do before class," she said, standing up. She gave Draco one last sour look before stalking off, still managing to look graceful despite her obvious anger.

The topic of Astoria was joked about by Draco's group of third year Slytherin boys for some weeks after that, always when Daphne was out of earshot (and sometimes when she wasn't, although such a thing was widely regarded as a "bad move"). The conversations were often started by Draco himself (who found that he had a hard time not thinking about Astoria and her smile and her eyes like lanterns in the darkness). Soon, like all things, she faded into obscurity and talk was filled with dementors and Sirius Black and what Potter was up to.

Sometimes Draco would check corridors and scan groups of students, searching for a small girl with auburn curls. Sometimes he'd stop himself and give himself a mental talking to (a Hufflepuff of all things! Why should he care?) and sometimes he wouldn't.

Now she was here, standing in front of him. This bizarre little girl who had invaded his head, despite his best efforts (and the efforts of a Malfoy were never something to trifle with or underestimate). "I wish you would have stayed. Too many useless little Hufflepuffs at this school. Taking up all of the good breathing air."

"I'm sorry you feel that, but I suppose the sheer number of guests at Hogwarts this year is annoying. That's actually why I have to go now, getting to class I always tricky at this time of day. It was very nice to see you and I hope that I see you around again, so we can keep talking." Her voice was not antagonistic or bitter, only sincere and a little bit sad. Astoria gave him a small smile before turning around and leaving the courtyard.

What was her problem? Draco asked himself as he watched her leave. Being so polite and… well, polite. "She hopes to see me around!" Draco complained to Crabbe and Goyle later that night. "What a little freak. I bet she's obsessed with me. Useless Hufflepuff."

This is where it begins.

A/N: Once again, not beta-ed through and I'm really not entirely happy with it. I did try to make Draco as in-character as possible, but we don't really see this side of him all that often in the books, so I suppose how he would actually add is up to the interpretation of the author. My tweaking of it is one of the reasons that it took so very long for me to get it posted.

I have decided that this story will be multi-chaptered. I have ideas and an outline and I just need to get it written. The story isn't together, more like a series of inter-connected one shots, with tons of time skips, no central plot and different tones for different chapters. For instance, when they're at Hogwarts I want it to seem more light-hearted than after the war.

My current end date goal for this is Christmas 2011. I plan to make it.

If you liked it, please leave a review telling me why. If you did not like it, please leave a review telling me why. If I made any grammatical errors, please tell me.

Thank you for your time!

(14, wind)