Hi guys, this chapter has been released early on Monday instead of Tuesday because it turns out that tomorrow I won't be having a computer with me the whole day.
A/N: I've been asked if the plot of this story will follow the novel, Daddy-Long-Legs. My answer is that the first part of it will be similar because I think it mirrors Draco and Astoria's initial stage of the relationship accurately. However, the rest will be almost entirely different.
Dear Kind Sir,
I know you won't ever come to read this, which is why I feel safe enough to already breach your rules in my first letter. I would like to express my gratitude towards you for your immense generosity, I shall remember you for a very long time.
Writing this letter is of an importance that excites me. I'm holding my quill pen and parchment paper in the most prim and proper manner for this pivotal moment. And it will be the start of papers being hoarded in your office, though I doubt that you have to work, given that you must have a large excess of money that is being unwisely spent on insignificant students like me.
It does guilt me that you are a rich, old man who may not be rich for that much longer. I'm sorry you dislike girls, that must be of a terrible hindrance to you. I'm currently on the Hogwarts Express. I've just changed into my robes and it's lovely outside. The December snow is still there in frayed sheets, slowly melting. I'm having a chocolate frog right now, I got Harry Potter on my card again. That will be added to my collection. Don't you think he's just a legend? I'll be reaching Hogwarts in an hour.
P.S. Are you bald?
Astoria Greengrass
OvO
Draco stashed the letter aside, brutally crumpling its edges. He lazily scanned the Malfoy Manor, yawning in the dismal light that trickled through the latticed windows. Every piece of furniture in his study had remained unmoved, never shifting from its position on the varnished floor. Behind him was a cavity, housing shelves of books that he had never touched. Diagonally across to his left was a wooden coffee table with cherubs carved across its circumference. Above him hung a chandelier that was shackled to the arched ceiling…
For all he knew, Astoria would begin to waste her allowance on worthless things. He could have used it to satisfy his constant craving for self-gratification. His eyes closed with a grimace, as he brooded over how she could have made him feel this weary. After taking pity on himself, he got up from his chair to inspect himself in the full-length mirror next to him. A harsh reflection stared back at him, stoic and stubbornly refusing to show a speck of emotion. He unconsciously brushed away a strand of hair that had strayed and surprised himself when he smirked at the realization he had made. He, most definitely, was not bald.
OvO
Sir,
In the Slytherin dormitory after having a marvellous feast in the Great Hall, I think I've stuffed myself with a stupendous number of croquettes and corn-on-the-cobs. There weren't many people to talk to and I'm quite alone. I'm organising my robes and books which I bought from Diagon Alley. There is a sense of comfort in feeling the new fabric and pages. Normally I'm not such a tidy and organised person. This year will be a deviation from my habitual self, because everything that I'm buying with your allowance practically feels like solid gold that is weighing down heavily on me. I don't think you would be too pleased if you were to find out that my robes have been carelessly tossed onto my bed. Or that my textbook has been stained by spilled Berry Ocky Rot. Don't worry Sir, I drink simply for show. My lips touch the mouth of the bottle and barely a drop gets into me.
It is ironic, that I'm being cared for by a stranger. It feels like you're a real father, mine never seemed to pay attention to any of this. What is your name, I wonder? It is a shame that you don't have one, that shows a lack in personality.
Astoria Greengrass
OvO
Sir,
I've been using my spare time to read a few books and do some sketching, I'm working on a portrait of you at the moment, it's my first actual piece of work. That is owing to the fact that I was long dismissed of the desire to develop an artistic flair, my parents detested that it was causing me to become a prodigal. I had the tendency of using up my paints at a rate too quick to be acceptable. It's rather frustrating that they have dried up after the prolonged period of disuse, I'll have to make do with it. Flint has accidentally messed with my palette and his feathers have become unsightly. Yes Sir, Flint is the Eagle Owl you gave me last year to deliver my letters and your allowance. I think the name Flint is quite flattering on him, his eyes are a startling orange that reminds me of the spark that flint stones give off when they're struck.
It's arduous work attempting to imagine someone you've never met. It requires an unusual amount of thinking. I suppose your face has aged, to the extent that your veins are at risk of piercing through your chartaceous, shrivelled up skin, considering how old you must be. Your eyes probably still smile, that I'm certain about. Sir, I know you do not reply to my letters, but would you be willing enough to write back just one sentence? It would help me make better progress in my painting. Any of the following would do:
I am bald. or
I have grey hair.
Astoria Greengrass
OvO
Sir,
You must be waiting with discontent to hear what I'm learning at Hogwarts.
Today
Transfiguration: Professor McGonagall taught us a spell to disguise ourselves as everyday objects.
Divination: We used tea leaves to make predictions. I regret taking this. I could only see patterns that vaguely resemble crow's feet.
Defence against the Dark Arts: Practising a spell that imprisons your enemy in a block of ice.
Muggle studies: Studying how a Muggle public library works.
History: I'm sorry, Sir. I fell asleep.
Astrology: Writing an awfully long essay on when the stars will next align.
Herbology: Professor Sprout and her assistant Neville Longbottom showed us plants used to make sleeping potions.
Potions: My most comfortable subject. We made a potion that burns anything it touches, I finished it early with plenty of spare time to read a book by Nicholas Flamel.
Care of Magical Creatures: Hagrid had hurt his leg, which meant no interaction with creatures today. We sat on the grass and listened to him talk about the history of Hippogriffs.
Astoria Greengrass
OvO
Sir,
We've made our first trip to Hogsmeade this year. I'm starting to feel what it's like to live a normal life. I know, Sir, you must be incredulous and asking what I mean by that. I'm not sure if Professor McGonagall has ever told you, my family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. We were rich, if I had to be direct. It's not an act of boasting towards you, really. It's a fact. There was much loathing towards me during my first few years at Hogwarts. It seemed that people were certain that my family would have been a goner if our inheritance hadn't sustained us, which I had always obstinately denied. Yes, what an absurd reveal in honesty.
I used to romantically envision the commoner's life and it turns out unfortunately, that I was far from the truth. I never knew that people saved up to buy better things. I never knew ten cups of butterbeer could cost a fortune. And you won't believe this, but I never even knew the taste of butterbeer.
I feel so many years behind.
Astoria Greengrass
OvO
Sir,
You still haven't told me if you're bald yet.
Astoria Greengrass
OvO
What kind of charity are you doing? You don't respond, you don't do anything, I don't even know your name. Are you humane? A person? You are a cruel, cold, selfish man.
Reviews and feedback are welcomed. Draco and Astoria have only just got started, look out for updates on a Tuesday in one or two weeks.