A big thank you to every single one of my readers! Let me know if anything is wrong or seems weird or needs improvement and stuff :) please enjoy this chapter!

Draco sat across from his parents at breakfast that next morning. This wasn't a common occurrence—usually he went for days without seeing his father around. He suspected that Narcissa made it this way on purpose; Lucius would just always scowl or mutter something about Draco being a disappointment nowadays. As she politely (and perfectly) sipped her tea in silence, her husband read the newspaper and her son ate some porridge with as little noise as possible. Several minutes passed. Finally, Narcissa set her teacup down, the soft clink being the only sound reverberating through the spacious dining room. "We have a guest staying with us, Lucius." she said rather abruptly. Draco took a big mouthful of porridge (which he was sure that if his father saw, he would be scolded) to avoid being brought into the conversation. Lucius lowered the newspaper a bit to look at her. "When will they arrive?" he asked shortly. His past stay in Azakaban, his family's fall from grace, and the overall disappointment in the way things turned out left Lucius in a permanently disgruntled mood. Narcissa straightened almost imperceptibly. "She arrived last night, and in terrible condition. I have her staying in the east wing—a bit down the hall from Draco."

"How nice. Thank you for telling me in advance, dear wife." he snarled.

"I already told you that she was in horrifying condition, Lucius. I wasn't about to turn her away with nothing."

"How, may I ask, did she make it here, then?"

"…Draco was in Diagon Alley and found her lying on the ground."

Lucius's dull gray eyes turned sharply to his son. Draco shuddered a bit, knowing that they bore the word "traitor" straight into his soul. It was a common name for him now from his father. It hurt, but Narcissa prevented it from being used most of the time. She put her hands on the table calmly. "Now Lucius, don't be angry with him. He did the right thing. The good thing. It's impossible to just leave a poor sick girl to die in the streets, without a single person to attempt to help her—"

"Who is she?"

"The mediwizard identified her as Astoria Greengrass, a pureblood witch—"

"And you let her stay in my house only knowing her name?!" Lucius roared as he leapt up from the table to tower over his wife. Narcissa remained perfectly still. "…It was the right thing to—"

"Don't you tell me about right and wrong! I am the master of this house, I am your husband, and I have the ultimate say in decisions around here!" he screamed, red in the face. Draco could tell he was near exploding with rage. Narcissa remained calm though. She stared his hard in the face, unafraid. Draco, however, was quivering noticeably—he could never handle himself when his father yelled like that. She never removed her eyes from Lucius's. "Draco," she whispered. "Go check on Astoria, please."

"No. I'm not a child, I can stand up to—"

"Draco, do as I say!"

"But Mother, I would—"

"GO!"

Her tone was desperate, but she concealed it as an order. He didn't want to leave her alone with his father when he was in such a temper—he would rather have stayed in case the man finally snapped. But squeaking out a small, "Yes, Mother…" he departed from the dining room, bolting to the staircase as soon as he was out of view. Immediately, shouting started. Lucius and Narcissa yelled over one another in an attempt to have their arguments heard. Draco cringed as he slowly ascended the large staircase. For all nearly twenty years of his life, there had been fighting between his parents. He knew that not every family was perfect; what drove him particularly mad though was the fact that there would be all this screaming in the house, but outside they played a perfect family. All he wanted to do was shout to the world that his life was far from anything glorious, that his father was too dominant over the rest of them, that staying at home after leaving Hogwarts was nothing but torture. Tears burned Draco's eyes at these thoughts. He just wanted someone to tell, someone to understand…

As he paused in front of Astoria's door, a fleeting reminder that she was bound to do nothing but listen to him passed through his mind. His fingers trembled on the doorknob. Did he really want to do this? It would be incredibly weak of him just crawling to anyone and unloading all of his internal problems. He decided that he'd know if it was right or not once he went in to actually do as his mother ordered.

The room was still and silent when he walked in again. Astoria was still lying in bed, her back to him. He could hear her wheezy, gasping breath from all the way across the room. Stepping over to her bed, he took a good look at her in the fresh breaking daylight.

Astoria's skin was creamy pale, almost devoid of color like his. Her hair was a rich brown color—the way it twisted and hung limply indicated to Draco that the curls probably would've been tighter and more bouncy, had she not been so sick. She had long, dark eyelashes that fluttered every now and then in her sleep. Her lips were a more pale pink color. The way she tucked one hand under her pillow as she slept—exactly as Draco did—and how her slim shoulder rose and fell with every raspy breath made his mouth twitch into a fleeting smile. She just looked so…pretty? No. He hadn't thought a girl was pretty since he'd dated Pansy Parkinson back at school. And besides, that was just Pansy—he felt obligated to date her because of her blood status, family wealth, and potential inheritance. This girl, this Astoria, was beautiful. She didn't have a permanent sneer on her cheeks like Pansy; instead, it was a soft gentleness of understanding. Her nose was gracefully sloping instead of pointed. Even though he couldn't see her eyes, he could tell that they would probably look warm and welcoming as opposed to the Parkinson-icy he had to grow accustomed to.

Draco was disturbed in his reflections on Astoria when she turned over to lie on her back. The light green blankets sank a little lower due to her movements, covering just a bit above her waist. The flowing nightgown his mother had dressed her in only added to her angelic splendor—she just appeared so heavenly in his life of hell. Without warning, her eyes fluttered open. She gasped when she saw Draco standing there, hastily sitting up and yanking the blankets up to her chin again in utter surprise. Draco jumped too—he hadn't meant to scare her. "I-I'm…er…I'm really sorry. I was just…just checking on you and…I…er…you…I'm really sorry." he stumbled through his words, his face burning in embarrassment. Astoria watched him wordlessly, trying to catch her breath through clearly damaged windpipes. He glanced up quickly. Ah. Her eyes were blue. Draco found himself trying to suppress a smile again at this realization; she was just too pretty.

Astoria looked like she wanted to say something, but cast her eyes downward. Draco took a step nearer so that she would understand that he wanted to chat a bit. But as soon as he moved just a bit closer to her bed, she shrank back, pulling her blankets closer. So that was it. She was afraid of him. But why? Draco thought of everything he could. Oh no. Ohhhh no. His practice of Dark magic….she feared him because he had once been associated with Dark magic—the same type that had made her so sick and debilitated. And she knew his family had been too. Draco hesitated before speaking. "Please," he murmured, not able to speak her name yet. A lump had come to his throat. "I'm not going to hurt you…I'm not…bad…" Astoria looked away. "W-Where's…my family?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Your family? I…we're not sure. I can tell my parents to search for them. Once they find out where they are we can—"

"P-Please don't hurt them…"

"…Hurt them? I wouldn't allow for anything like that to…Astoria, things aren't like that anymore. I don't know how long you've been ill, but the war is over. V-Voldemort is gone. No more followers, nothing. It's…My family switched sides at the end. At least Mother and I did. Father just did to escape imprisonment but he's coming to terms with the loss now, I believe—oh look at me. I'm rambling. Sorry."

"…It's…it's alright. I-I like hearing you talk."

Draco's heart leapt at this. He wasn't sure why, but he knew that it gave him a flicker of hope inside that he had been devoid of for the past several years. He made another move to get closer. This time, Astoria didn't pull back; she just watched carefully. "So, I think it's best if everything stays behind in the past with all that. Don't you agree?" he asked, feeling a little more like his old cocky self from his schooldays. She nodded obediently. "Tell me about yourself," he went on. Suddenly, he realized that he was probably sounding too demanding (and too much like his father), so he blushed and added hastily, "If you feel up to it, of course." Astoria nodded slowly, leaning back against the pillows with difficulty. "I have an older sister who went to Hogwarts with me, but we didn't live in the same Houses." she began softly. Draco cocked his head. "You went to Hogwarts?"

"I'm no Squib, Draco Malfoy." she said pointedly, offering a wink and a weak smile. Something made his heart flutter even more—he would've said something just as similar! Literally for the first time in years, Draco grinned. It wasn't a polite smile, or faked, but a real genuine one that had gone into hiding for all this time of misery. He was at a loss for words. Thankfully, Astoria just continued. "She was older than me too. Our family was split—she was a Slytherin and I was a Hufflepuff."

"She was a Slytherin?" Draco exclaimed, feeling more alive than ever before.

"Oh yes. She was quite the smart girl, always…ow…on top of things. The Sorting Hat differentiated me by deeming me more 'caring and empathetic'. W-While she focused on her grades, I made a lot of friends."

"Was she in my year?"

"Actually…ah…she was. She talked about you sometimes. I'm two years y-younger, though."

"What would she say about me?"

But Astoria's face had whitened even more. She seemed to be in a lot of pain around her chest, because he frail hands reached up to touch her collarbone. "It's alright, you don't have to speak anymore. Just rest. Relax." he advised gently. After a moment of catching her breath, Astoria shook her head. "I-I want to keep talking," she whispered almost inaudibly.

"You do? Why? If you're in pain you—"

"I-I like talking to you,"

"...Oh…alright…if you feel up to it, though…"

"…My s-sister, Daphne, t-told me that you were incre…incredibly smart. She said that in your last few years though…you seemed very distant and s-sad. She wanted t-to help you, but…she didn't w-want to interfere."

Astoria was visibly shivering now from the iciness that only affected her. Draco leaned down and pulled the blankets closer to her shoulders, feeling confident and then very embarrassed simultaneously at the fact that he let one of his hands trail down her beautiful shoulder and push a limp chestnut curl away. Astoria blushed. He took it as a good sign. Without even really thinking about it, he sat down on the bed beside her. His careful wand swoops cast another heating charm through the sheets. When she shuddered from the contact of sudden warmth, Draco felt a chill of his own shoot up his spine. She looked good when she did that. He blushed fiercely at his thoughts. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked quickly. Astoria let out a wheezy giggle. "You can keep me c-company here so I'm not all alone." she teased.

"You have a very odd sense of humor. But I really like it. It makes me comfortable yet alert all the time. You're…unique."

"Well, t-thank you. There's a lot I...like about you too."

Draco's heart skipped a beat again. He just felt so incredibly happy all at once—it was almost as if he'd forgotten the idea of bliss throughout all the difficult years. After their shared chuckle, Draco gazed into her eyes. He made a decision; he wouldn't talk about his feelings on his family with her right away. She kept the mood too light and too happy for him to go dragging it down. "Astoria," he whispered. The name felt good in his mouth to say. "I'm going to find your family for you. And we'll bring them here so you can finally see them again—everything will be great. I promise I'll do that for you, Astoria. Do you like that idea?" She paused for a moment, thinking this large promise over. "I think it's…ow…a l-lovely idea. But…just make sure they can get here before I…d-die."

Even though it seemed like a pitiful thing to say, Draco could sense the honesty and force of Astoria's request. She really believed that she would die soon. It further ignited the flame inside of him to do something—to save her—and fix everything about his past with the future. He nodded to her, murmuring a promise. She thanked him quietly between violent coughs.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from the downstairs dining room as the shouting commenced. Either Narcissa or Lucius had gotten so upset that they threw a teacup. Astoria looked up instantly at Draco. He turned red as he battled in his mind for words to formulate an excuse. "C-Clumsy house-elves," he muttered quickly. "Always dropping things everywhere." He tried to give a little laugh, but it sounded funny. Astoria obviously caught it. She gave him a sad smile and an understanding nod. He cleared his throat. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you, Miss Greengrass." Draco said as he stood up, seeking to lighten the mood again. He took her hand. She blushed like mad. "The pleasure is all mine, Master Mal—Master Draco." she replied. She obviously didn't feel comfortable speaking the name 'Malfoy'. Draco smiled at her, bent down, and planted a gentle kiss on her hand respectfully. Astoria giggled a bit. He placed it softly onto her lap again and turned to leave.