Day 8-Draco:

He had dreamt of Astoria for the past four evenings in a row. He had seen her naked form when she emerged from the shower; short, toned, tan, and covered in beads of water as the steam wrapped around her like a cloud. Draco couldn't help it that his thoughts kept drifting back to the sight of her naked body, after all, she was the only girl his age he had seen in almost four months.

Every time he dreamt of her, the dream was the same. He was walking through an unfamiliar forest, until he reached a stream. At the edge of the stream, bathing herself in the middle of day, was Astoria. She appeared almost as a quintessential mermaid, draped over a rock and playing with her hair before fully submerging herself in the water. Draco crept closer and she finally saw him, noticing him with a smile and a glint in her eye.

Come in, she called out to him, treading in the crystal clear water. Draco gulped in his dream, he could see every inch of her body and he felt himself rise. Astoria noticed, she smiled wickedly and raised an eyebrow. Come on, Snake Boy. She beckoned to him with long fingers, and Draco stepped towards her, stripping off his clothes along the way. You know, she would say as he stepped in the water, beginning to return her smirk as she swam towards him, bare chest rising above the line of the water, I always called you Snake Boy for more than one reason.

And then he would kiss her, their bodies writhing and heaving with desire he had never quite felt before, and she would hook her legs around his waist, rubbing her hands down the length of him, and Draco would moan and grab her hair…and then she would kiss him again, this time, biting down hard on his lower lip. Every time she did so, she would draw blood. And every time, Astoria would lick the droplet of blood away and swallow it, grinning as she did so.

Yum, she would say.

And then Draco would jolt himself awake. He would glance through the bars, into Astoria's cell, and watch her sleep for a moment, making sure she didn't wake. God forbid he was talking in his sleep.

The fourth night, she was already awake when Draco shot up in bed, sweat lining his spine. He ran his hands down his face, attempting to clear his mind when she suddenly spoke.

"Nightmare?" He glanced over towards her cell and saw that she wasn't looking towards him, but up towards the sliver of moon just visible through her window.

"Yeah," Draco muttered, crossing his legs so she couldn't see that he wasn't scared at all, quite the opposite. Normally, with any other girl, Draco would have been much more arrogant and forward, but there was nothing quite like a jail cell to break your game. "Why are you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep," Astoria replied. She turned towards him just as the moonlight slid over her face, and she smiled bitterly. "Had a nightmare, of sorts."

"I think we all have nightmares, now and again," Draco said quietly.

"We?"

"Anyone who was at Hogwarts the night of," Draco said. He felt for a moment as if he should add on, but Astoria knew full well what he was talking about, from the look on her face.

"I saw you that night," Astoria said after a few moments, drawing up her knees to her chest and glancing over at him. Suddenly, she looked quite small and vulnerable. She looked as if she was helpless, lost in a crowd, with nowhere to go. Her chin tightened as if she were trying to hold back tears. "Running through the crowd in the Great Hall."

"I was trying to find my parents," Draco said, somewhat defensively.

"I don't blame you."

"Where were you, that night?" Draco asked her, curiously. "God, you must be what, sixteen? Seventeen? I thought everyone underage was supposed to be evacuated that night. Especially the Slytherin students. Didn't want them hanging around, did they?" Draco nearly snorted at the thought of the fight, nearly void of Slytherins, save on Voldemort's side.

"Fifteen at the time, sixteen now," Astoria said, closing her eyes and settling back against the wall. "And yeah, we were supposed to be evacuated, but rules and promises were made to be broken. I went back in to find my parents, just like you."

"And did you?" Draco asked. But he knew from the look on her face now that she hadn't found them. He felt his own heart sink and he suddenly yearned to see his parents now, despite everything, just to make sure they were okay.

"I did," Astoria said, surprising him. "But only in time to watch them die."

Day 131-Astoria:

Her birthday had come and gone, and Astoria realized, somewhat belatedly, that there had been no one around to recognize the fact she turned sixteen. No one but the mice that scampered through the halls, and the marks on the wall that helped Astoria to track what day it was. Her birthday had been July 23, but now, over a month had gone by.

She realized that one of the nights she couldn't sleep. It didn't happen often, but occasionally, Astoria would find that no sleep would find her, and she was destined to stay awake, leaning back against the wall and praying that her eyes would finally drift shut. But one of the nights she couldn't sleep, Draco woke too. He told her he was having nightmares, and that almost everyone suffered from nightmares.

Astoria found herself growing unreasonably emotional over the fact that somewhere, out there, people were sharing her nightmares. She doubted, however, that anyone's nightmares ended the same way hers did—in a jail cell. When she turned sixteen, it had been one of those nights she had a nightmare, and couldn't fall back asleep.

"I'm sorry," Draco said suddenly, breaking a momentary silence. She had just told him the reason for her nightmares—the images of her parent's death. He seemed at a loss for words, his pale, pointed face suddenly contorted into a mask of empathy. The expression didn't fit somehow, it seemed unused, but it was genuine all the same, and for that, Astoria was a bit grateful.

"So am I." She felt her mouth tug downwards. "They weren't even fighting. My mother was just there to find my sister and I. And my father, he was there for the same reason." Astoria felt her voice raise an octave, and she looked away from Draco. All of a sudden, she felt anger burst within her, like a candle that would not blow out. Draco wouldn't understand, of course. His parents were not in that fight for the same reasons her parents had been—they had been part of the guilty party. Her tone came out accusatory. "They were just bystanders. Not like your family." In her mind's eye, Astoria saw her mother's body arc as it fell to the ground, her head hitting the stone floor with a crack that seemed louder than any scream that echoed around her…

"My family?" Draco asked, taken aback, but sudden anger crossing his features in an unquestionably frightening way. "What do you know about my family? You don't know if they fought or how they did, or what sacrifice they made in order to keep everyone alive."

"What do I know about your family?" Astoria shrieked back, shooting off her bed in an instant. "I know they're still out there. I know that you were with them, and I know that you never watched them die in front of your eyes all before you turned sixteen. I know that you don't have any siblings that you have to worry about, since there would be no sibling to leave you word or otherwise, that they're alive or dead." Astoria saw hot flashes of rage hover in the corner of her eyes, and in her anger, she grabbed the edges of the sink so hard that she could feel her knuckles screaming in protest. She reached out and punched the mirror in front of her, finally losing her cool. She did not cry when it didn't break, nor did she cry when she heard the sickening crunch of her knuckles colliding with the surface.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Draco shouted from across the hall, panicked. "I don't know what you want me to say!"

"There's nothing that anyone can ever say that will ever fix this," Astoria wailed, cradling her hand. She winced, but still, no tears fell. And that's when she felt her body tense up, as if on alert. Her knees locked, her shoulders flew back, and she raised her head. If Astoria had looked at herself in the mirror, at that moment, she would have been somewhat astonished by her own posture and appearance—she looked as if she were heading off to war.

"Nothing can fix this," Astoria breathed, walking towards the bars to her cell. Draco would his hands around the bars to his own cell and stared at her. Astoria's heart beat faster as she locked eyes with his. The anger in his gray pupils had disappeared, and nothing but tenacity and resolve was left. "Maybe I can't fix what happened, but I can sure as hell make sure that people will pay for what they've done."

"Revenge," Draco said, his eyes lighting up at the idea. She could see his brain beginning to tick, whirring into place. He wanted to get out; he wanted to right his own wrongs.

"No," Astoria said. She curled her right hand into a tight fist, and the skin on her knuckles finally broke open, leaving blood to drip into a thick puddle onto the floor. "Justice."