Hello my loves! Chapter 30! So exciting! This chapter is much longer than my usual chapters. Please let me know what you think. Oh and I quite enjoy your speculations! Also, tell me what your favorite Easter candy is. Peeps or no peeps? I'm curious. If there's anything you want to see more of in this story let me know that as well! Again, I want to thank you so much for your thoughts and support on my story. It helps me continue writing so much. You have no idea. Also, if any of you have extra questions or want further insight on the story (or just want to chat) feel free to message me!

I don't own anything from Harry Potter.

"What about Astoria?" Daphne asked Adrian, tilting her head curiously as she attempted to ignore whatever he just put in his mouth.

"I'll tell you upstairs. Come on," he told her, moving to guide her through the dancing as well as incredibly intoxicated groups of people.

Daphne caught some of the comments about her, all about how she definitely didn't look like Adrian's wife, how it wasn't too late for them to get divorced, how he didn't even seem interested in her, how he deserved better.

Better? And they thought themselves better?

Daphne narrowed her eyes slightly before taking Adrian's tie to pull him down, suddenly feeling quite bold. She kissed him as he raised his eyebrows at her, marking him publicly as hers in front of the envious women complaining about her.

Jealous bitches.

Daphne stiffened slightly when she was caught off guard by the realization of her own brave move. She had not kissed her husband until then, and she wasn't sure what to do with herself now. She noticed herself blush when she felt his lips curl in amusement against hers but she persisted, determined to seem confident and intentional as she pushed her other hand up his chest and into his hair. His hands moved around her waist to pull her close to him, kissing her back slowly and she found her back arching as his angle over her forced her head back as he towered over her. She could taste the mixture of alcohol and the unidentifiable potion in his mouth as his tongue slid against hers and she felt a touch of warmth spread through her before she dropped his tie and pulled away, turning towards the stairs to wait for him to escort her up.

"Like I said, feeling the love tonight. Knew you'd come around, pet," he commented, grinning as he placed a hand on her lower back to lead her up the steps. "I'm pretty irresistible, I know, but your restraint these past days has been impressive."

Daphne rolled her eyes, throwing him a withering look over her shoulder. Insufferable man.

Though she couldn't deny how good that kiss was, ugh.

Adrian held his hand up in apologies to all of the people who tried to greet him, making them wait for him as he took Daphne back to the quiet section of the house that was protected from the noise by silencing charms. Once the door was closed, the silence was nearly as loud as the music in comparison. She blinked, leaning back against him slightly as she recovered herself, hearing him chuckle behind her as he urged her to his bedroom.

Their bedroom she supposed.

"That was much, much too loud. Honestly, why is that necessary? Are the people who attend your parties deaf? I'm nearly deaf after that! And! It was so.. Shameless. Everyone rutting against each other like animals. And the women.. Kissing each other," she expressed her disgust, shuddering. "I cannot believe I'm called a slut when there are women such as that openly acting in such a way."

Adrian snorted loudly. "You're called a slut because Malfoy was a prick and didn't have a conscience. You should have made better choices of who to shag in empty classrooms, love," he told her, grinning as he stepped away and looked her up and down. "I wouldn't have tattled on you."

Daphne looked away from him at the mention of what she had done with Draco, what she had done with him being basically her downfall. She tried to act like she didn't care, tried to tell herself that she didn't care, but she absolutely cared and she regretted what she had done painfully so. Just a small mistake, a mistake that didn't count as a mistake when men did it, had cost her so much pride and had offered her up to so much criticism. "Are you going to taunt me over that as well? Do you think I'm a slut?"

Adrian gave her an incredulous look before scoffing. "A slut? I think you've proved tonight that you're almost more innocent than a newborn. Let's not get ahead of yourself pet, having sex once in your school years in an hour of rebellion doesn't make you this night prowling minx."

"Doesn't it bother you that another man has had me before you will?" She asked, grabbing onto her arm as she felt strangely exposed, still not looking at him.

"Man? I wouldn't count Malfoy a man in what? Fifth year? Come on, you're giving him too much credit. Nah, I don't give a shit given the fact that once I've had you you won't even be able to remember his name. Or yours for that matter."

Daphne flushed, scowling at the floor in embarrassment at his words before turning away from him, not wanting him to see how red she was. She felt his hand on her arm as he urged her to turn back around to look at him and she complied reluctantly, still feeling shame at the topic they were discussing.

"I don't think you're a slut, Daphne," he told her sincerely, his voice lacking it's usual playfulness. "No one here thinks you're a slut either. You don't have to feel so ashamed over that, not here. Not with me. I'm sorry that you're worried about that, truly, but you might as well stop worrying. There is no reason to."

Daphne let his words register as she looked back at his warm eyes, only finding honesty in them. She nodded slowly, feeling tears forming as she felt an enormous cloud of weight on her shoulders dissolve quite instantly. She didn't have to impress those people anymore, those people who would always hold that mistake against her no matter what she did to take it back. She didn't have to care anymore. She could let it go.

Again, she found herself being embraced by her husband in a show of comfort.

"Thank you," she told him quietly, enjoying the warmth of his arms around her.

"Don't give me credit for simply not being a twat. Thank me when I do something actually great. Thank me for being the sexiest man to ever grace your eyes. That's what I deserve gratitude for."

Daphne shook her head and pulled away from him, giving him a look.

"Actually, you could thank me by kissing me again. That was cute."

"Cute," she muttered. "Sod off, Pucey."

Adrian pouted, dropping himself on his bed. "Did you kiss me only to shut those girls up? Aw, I thought it was because you actually fancied me."

"I kissed you because you're mine and they needed reminding," she quipped, taking her hair down.

"So possessive," he tsked. "Yet we have to sleep like this." He grabbed the pillow that stayed between them at night from under the blankets and held it up.

"I've always slept like that. I like something to grab onto. Besides, I don't want you getting any ideas while I'm sleeping."
"First of all, as your husband you should be grabbing onto me. Second of all, if I truly got any ideas couldn't I just, I don't know, move the fucking pillow? Honestly if I felt like molesting you your little shield wouldn't do much to stop me. As you should know by now, I don't have a kink for touching women against their will."

"What were you going to tell me about Astoria?" She asked him, changing the subject.

"Yes! Thank you for reminding me. Well, it's not completely clear to me, but I'm going to tell you what I've connected. So, your father's lovely Pensieve assisted me in my claim that Astoria was rumored to have performed the Cruciatus during her fifth year, and that she ran straight into lovely Theodore Nott's arms shortly after. Which apparently she had no recollection of whatsoever," he started, seeming slightly animated in the fact he had such gossip in hand.

"Yes.. I did hear that.." Daphne said slowly, recalling her seventh year that had been a messy blur due to all of the havoc that was upon Hogwarts that year. "Theo was around quite a bit actually."

"Getting to that, treacle. Patience. Anyway, as I was saying before my story was interrupted, after that happened Nott looked guilty as shit. I'm assuming that Malfoy got into his head, you know as he recently has been obsessed with Legilimency, and then Malfoy was thoroughly pissed. Beyond pissed actually, I've never seen him more angry. They started attacking each other, which I enjoyed to a point because I've never been a huge fan of Nott, but eh. They seemed close to killing each other so Zabini and I put a stop to it. Then," Adrian paused, looking at her as he became slightly more serious. "Your sister came up, disturbingly upset, and began attacking Nott herself. Relentlessly. He didn't fight back, but she was in a complete fit, yelling about how he messed with her head and whatnot. Malfoy left when she started doing that, I'm not sure why. I most certainly wouldn't leave you in a situation like that, but it's always a wonder why Malfoy does the shit that he does. I grabbed your sister and took her wand because she was really going in on Nott and I don't hate him quite that much. She was hysterical. Blaise helped Nott apparate out of there. She was a thorough mess, Daphne. It was quite sad actually. She cut herself with her ring. As far as I can tell from the mess that that was is that she was fucking around with Nott at Hogwarts, he obliviated her for whatever fucking arsehole reason he had, and now it's come to light to both her and Draco."

Daphne stared at him, not knowing where to start in the story he just so bluntly told. Rage crept through her and she felt her chest puff out in her angry breaths as she thought of Nott messing with her baby sister who always just kept to herself, not ever trying to get herself into trouble. She had asked Nott to stay and make sure she was okay during that day Astoria was meant to practice the unforgivable curse, and he had done much more than that. He had taken advantage of her.

"I'll fucking kill Nott," she hissed, her eyes scanning back and forth angrily as she shook her head. "I'll kill him."

"I second that, gorgeous. I told her she ought to come home with me, as I don't trust Malfoy alone with her when he's that angry, but she refused."

Daphne's anger was interrupted with affection for Adrian at his talk of protecting her sister. It seems he would keep surprising her with his kindness. "I need to see her. I need to know everything. Now," she said firmly, looking around for a cloak to cover herself.

"Ah.. Right. Well. I received a note from Malfoy about that actually. He said.." Adrian said slowly, seeming to proceed with caution. "He said you've been removed from the wards and to not attempt to come to the Manor, as you will not be able to."

Daphne stopped, shock filling her. "He.. What?"

Adrian nodded in response, watching her. "He's a prick. Not much more to it."

"He's.. This is his punishment? Blocking her off from me and everyone? It wasn't her fault!" She cried, her hands coming up to the sides of her head in her stress for her little sister. She hated being alone. "She needs me."

"Well.. I mean. I did linger behind for a bit, to see her alright. She stood there for a long time, calming herself down I guess. Again, disturbing and sad. Then she left. And.. I have a guess of where she went."

"Alright. I'm fed up with the antics of this class. I'll be choosing your partners," the Astronomy professor announced irritably, eyeing the groups of Slytherins with accusing eyes.

Ophelia frowned, looking to her best friend reluctantly. The Slytherins were the ones causing most of the problems, as the Ravenclaws were much more interested in getting their work done.

"I have a great idea. Raise your hand if you're a muggle-born," their professor quipped.

Ophelia's heart sank as she glanced over at the disgusted faces of a large majority of the Slytherins. Why on earth would a professor subject their students to this?

She raised her hand slowly, tilting her chin up slightly to not seem ashamed of who she was. She wasn't ashamed, but some of the cold stares from the Slytherins could make someone believe they ought to be.

Their professor began to group them by blood status, and she found herself next to Edric Greengrass, an extremely attractive boy who many girls of every house loved to coo over. She nodded to him cautiously, feeling shy but determined not to show it. He returned her nod with a polite one of his own, his face appearing neutral as he paid attention to the professor. Oh, he was very intimidating. His politeness made her even more apprehensive of him as she couldn't read how he was actually feeling.

Perhaps he wasn't prejudiced?

Nonsense, of course he was prejudiced. She knew he came from one of the most prestigious pure-blood families according to her best friend's prattling. Even still, even if he didn't care about blood, she knew he cared about wealth and she was poor, quite poor.

No, she would not let this uppity rich boy make her feel inferior simply just standing there with his overly confident posture and crisp robes. She would not. She was raised better than that.

"Right. All settled in? Great. Partners will remain for the rest of the year. Work amongst yourselves now."

Protests filled the class and Ophelia couldn't hold back her own sound of dismay, looking to Violet in disappointment. This class would be much harder not having her friend to work through it with.

"Please. Don't hold back how you really feel," her partner commented, his deep voice lilting with a certain sureness and charm as his sarcasm to her came out lighthearted.

She looked up at him in a slight embarrassment, her eyes meeting his oddly light ones that contrasted against his dark features loudly. The boy was much too gorgeous for his own good.

For her own good.

After class, Violet grabbed her and dragged her away from the classroom and down the stairs, her eyes bright with something mischievous. "Edric Greengrass! Could you have landed a more delicious partner or no?"

Ophelia's eyes widened in alarm at how loud her friend was, glancing back to find Edric and the other Slytherins a fair distance away. "Will you keep your voice down," she hissed to her friend, shoving her gently as she glared at her. "Honestly, what is the matter with you?"

"Relax! They can't hear! I'm so jealous. He's so fit and just gives off that bad, rich boy vibe."

"Bad, rich boy vibe," Ophelia repeated dully. "You've always had the most poetic way with words, Vy. Besides, of course you think this is all fun and games. You're a pure-blood."

"Not to his type I'm not, but yes a lot of the Slytherins aren't repulsed by my imaginary blood quality, but I'm still a blood-traitor. Unfortunately my partner is much less dreamy. Actually, he's a half-blood. Professor gave all of the best pure-bloods to the muggle-borns. Well played, eh?"

"Not well played at all. It was humiliating," Ophelia sighed, shaking her head.

"Come on, lighten up, he wasn't rude was he?"

"No.. He was just quiet. And polite," she told her, thinking of how reserved and formal he was.

"Ooooh mysterious," Violet purred. "Love it. You two should hook up."

"Oh my god. You are so ridiculous sometimes. He has only been my partner for one class, he no doubt looks at me as if I belong below his overpriced shoes, and he barely spoke to me at all and you're suggesting we hook up? Stop it. You're not nearly as funny as you think you are."

"Imagine how bad and wild you'd feel," she went on, grinning. "Seducing an elite pure-blood male. You could hook up with him, expose him for shagging a muggle-born, and really wreak havoc on his life."

"What?" She asked her friend in disbelief. "Why would I have any interest in doing that?"

Violet shrugged, pulling a piece of licorice from her pocket. "You said yourself he probably sees you as if you belong beneath his feet. Why have good intentions?"

"Two wrongs don't make a right," Ophelia replied, rolling her eyes. "It's a very common notion. You should be familiar."

"Hey, I'm a firm believer in treating others how they me. Besides," she broke off to wink at her. "I was almost sorted into Slytherin, you know."

"Well, I was not almost sorted into Slytherin. All I wish to do is get through my classes and not mess around with men who don't care about me. Look at the type of girls he's into anyway," she told her friend, lowering her voice as Edric passed them and a beautiful brunette girl, Charlotte Blythe, who appeared perfectly kept and poised joined the group he was walking with. "Definitely not me."

"Oh please. They're not fucking. They're most likely engaged, and girls who marry guys like that have their snatches practically sewn up until their wedding night. It's part of being pure, my dear."

As classes passed, Edric stayed just as quiet and formal. She also noted how incredibly charming he was with the professor, who seemed quite impressed with him herself. She itched with curiosity about him, wondering what he was was beneath his show of politeness. She almost wished he'd just be nasty to her, that way she could get over this interest in him that came with a strong sense of attraction.

They were outside, weeks later, out on the grass a bit far from the castle after class to get a start on their project as soon as possible. He was a rather hard worker, which she appreciated, and he seemed very serious about his classes. Well, she supposed since he chose to take Astronomy in sixth year when it wasn't required it wasn't that much of a surprise.

"Why are you taking Astronomy?" She asked him after a while, her voice coming out awkward and obviously nervous. She had the strong desire to roll her eyes at herself.

"Why are you so unsure of yourself when asking me a simple question?" He replied, raising an amused eyebrow without looking up from his notes.

She opened her mouth to respond then paused, caught off guard by his response. "Because you're intimidating and rather attractive," she told him finally, letting out a breath. "And I'm a muggle-born and I fear your judgement."

"Honest of you," he said, frowning in an impressed manner.
"Well. It's the best policy," she said, half shrugging.

"That is certainly debatable."

"Your turn," she told him, watching him expectantly.

His eyes met hers and she was caught in his gaze like the silly school girl she apparently was. The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement and he nodded. "My mother. She adores Astronomy. It was one of her best subjects, though she did well at everything."

"Oh," she said, frowning curiously. She found it hard to picture a rich, uppity pure-blood woman caring much about education.

"Is that an unusual answer?"

"I just thought wealthy women kept busy looking pretty and spending money pampering themselves," she muttered before closing her eyes, embarrassed by her comment that came out much more rude than she intended.

"Tell that to my mother," he told her, smirking. "I promise you will find yourself no longer breathing."

"Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to be rude. It's just, that's how it is with the rich from what was brought up with."

"Muggles?"

"Yes.. Muggles," she answered, watching him closely for a reaction of disgust.

"Perhaps you're wrong about them as well."

"I don't think so. What about that girl? That hangs around you. She seems as though she will never have to work for anything in her life and never has."

"Which girl, love?" He asked, his eyes quite smug now as he continued to take his notes.

Why was he getting cocky now?

Oh. Because she seemed jealous.

The way he had addressed her as "love".. That was a new one. That was a good one.

She blushed, scowling. She hadn't meant to come off that way. "The one with the brown hair. The one who looks so perfect that she seems fake."

"Charlotte."

She knew her name, she didn't know why she had been acting as if she didn't. He certainly made her act strange around him, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Mhm. Yes, I guess," she said, shivering at the breeze picking up. It was getting late and becoming very cold.

"I assure you, the girls in my circle work much harder than you imagine. Especially girls like Charlotte. Especially women like my mother. I'd guess much harder than you, no offense intended."

Ophelia narrowed her eyes, offense certainly taken. What could he possibly mean? "They work hard? What, making sure their hair is perfect? That they don't break a nail? Spending money? Yeah, takes so much work to be rich," she scoffed, looking away from him irritably.

"You don't understand and you're bitter. That's alright."

"I'm not bitter it's just hilarious that you think girls like Charlotte Blythe have had to work harder than I have. You don't know anything about me."

"So you do know her name," he replied to her evenly.

Ophelia closed her mouth, looking back to her notes. Both of them were quiet for the rest of their working for the night.

A few classes later, the both of them were outside working late again.

Ophelia paced back and forth, attempting to keep moving as the wind whipped her hair around and froze her nose.

"You were cold last time, and yet you still decided not to wear more to keep warm," Edric commented, his voice slightly edged. "I was under the impression that Ravenclaws were meant to be wise."

"Yes, well. I know. You're right," she answered him, ignoring the comment he made about her house, shivering as she kept moving in front of him.

She stopped when she felt his hand on her arm, firm and steady. "Please, will you hold still?" He asked, his tone clipped.

She frowned, pulling from his grasp though a stupid part of her didn't want to. "Grabbing me defeats the purpose of asking."

"Fine. Hold still," he said instead, his tone slightly commanding as he pulled back to look again at his work.

She let out a short laugh in disbelief. "Excuse me, I-"

"You're stressing me out, moving like that," he cut her off curtly, shrugging out of his thick cloak to hand it to her. "Spare me the lecture, please. I've already run through your little protests at my rudeness in my head. I've got it, love."

Ophelia stared at him in both irritation and surprise. He had never acted this way to her before, and she forced herself to relax at the fact that he must really have an anxious issue with her pacing. She looked at the cloak for a while before taking it hesitantly after weighing her options of rejecting it out of pettiness when she truly was cold.

The cloak was very thick and finely made, as well as very traditional and regal looking as intricate detailing covered the most unnoticeable of places, his family name stitched elegantly in the fabric. She put it on, feeling relieved at the the warmth it provided as well as entranced by his strong scent that suddenly was covering her senses.

"You're welcome," he told her, his voice back to being light and even.

She gave him a look, not thanking him.

Again, they fell into silence as they worked, and she found herself working much nearer to him than she usually did. She studied his handwriting, predictably flawless.

He was flawless.

She pulled at the sleeves of the cloak absentmindedly, impatient with herself. She was never this shallowly infatuated with someone like this. He was the complete opposite of what she looked for in a man, and here she was practically swooning over him like an idiot. Over what? His looks? What was wrong with her?

When they finished working for the night, she moved to remove his cloak to return it, stopping when he spoke to her dismissively as he walked away.

"Keep it."

She was still for a while as she thought of what to make of that before slowly making her way back to the Ravenclaw Common Room, her stomach feeling odd.

"Oh. Fuck. No," she heard Violet's voice as she looked to see her friend slinking from the couch, her eyes flashing as she zeroed in on what Ophelia was wearing.

"Violet-" she began, holding her hands up to her friend to stop her.

"You were not clothed by Edric Greengrass," she hissed, her eyes wild with excitement as she grabbed the fabric of the cloak.

"I was annoying him with how cold I was," she explained dismissively. "Probably told me to keep it because I got my muggle-born germs all over it."

"Or maybe he told you to keep it because he wants his pure-blood germs all over you," she purred suggestively. "Or perhaps in you."

"You're disgusting," Ophelia told her flatly, pushing her away. "I can't keep this anyway. It probably cost more than all of my belongings put together."

"You most certainly can keep it," she snorted. "He doesn't care how much it cost. Pocket change for him. I know you're just pretending not to be excited. I bet you'll sleep naked in it tonight. Does it smell like money?"

"Goodnight, Violet," she told her dully, pushing passed her friend to go to her dorm.

It was the summer before seventh year and Ophelia was in Flourish and Blotts with her mother, in line as her mother attempted to count out the money she needed for her daughter's books.

She was conveniently in line behind Edric Greengrass, who was standing with what she assumed his little sister in front of him. The child was adorable, straight out of a magazine, and though her hair color was almost the opposite of Edric's her eyes matched his. She tugged at his arm impatiently. "How much longer, Edric? This line is taking forever," she complained, turning around to scowl up at him, her small mouth pushing out in her pout.

He chuckled and shook his head at her. "It would move faster the less you complained about it, Astoria."

"That's a lie," she grumbled. "It would move just the same."

"Edric," complained another girl who came up to them, blonde like Astoria but with green eyes instead of blue. Another sister. "There are so many mudbloods here," she muttered, scowling at all the obvious muggles.

Ophelia stilled, surprised to hear such a word come from such a beautiful little girl's mouth. She looked up at the back of Edric, waiting for his response.

"Daphne," Astoria started firmly, tilting her chin up to make her appear taller. "We are not to say the m word in public. It is unbecoming."

"And when you aren't in public?" Ophelia blurted out to the little girl, raising her voice so she could hear her/

Edric turned his body slightly to look at her, glancing at her muggle mother beside her who was not paying attention as she went through her purse before looking away, appearing disinterested.

Astoria looked up at her curiously before beaming. "I like your necklace," she announced, motioning to her neck at the only real piece of jewelry she owned before turning back towards her brother.

Yes, that answered her question quite well.

She tried not to feel stung by the proof of Edric's prejudice against muggle-borns. She had known he must be, but witnessing an example of it still hurt just the same. She felt guilty as well as enraged at the shame and embarrassment she felt towards her mother and background at the moment. How dare she allow these people to make her feel in such a way.

She saw an older woman approach, dressed in fine robes and glittering with many spots of jewelry that adorned her, her matching blonde hair to the little girls up in a high and perfect ponytail. At first Ophelia guessed the woman an older sister of Edric, though based on her mannerisms she concluded it was his mother by the way she touched him and addressed him. She proceeded to smile across the store at other couples that nodded to her all while muttering her distastes for them between her grinning teeth to her son.

If the dictionary added pictures this woman would surely be under "trophy wife".

The woman looked to Charlotte Blythe across the store who was with her parents and rolled her eyes, looking to her son distastefully. "How is our darling Charlotte doing. Still as uninteresting as ever?"

"I hate her," Astoria grumbled from below them. "She pretends to like me, but I know she doesn't. She must think I'm stupid."

"I suppose. I can't say I pay too much attention," Edric answered, appearing indifferent.

"Hmm. Her grades?" She mused. Something in her voice made Ophelia think she was hoping for a negative answer.

"She is nearly at the top of her classes as far as I know, mother," he replied.

Ophelia couldn't hold back a snort. "Not hard when you're messing around with a professor in one of the classes you're at the 'top' of," she scoffed, picturing Charlotte cozied up to the young substitute Charms professor.

The woman turned slowly to look at her, her green eyes locking with hers as something nasty flashed in them, a smirk curling her lips.

"Is that so," she breathed, her eyes dragging down Ophelia's body before she turned to look at Charlotte.

"Charlotte, dear. This lovely girl was just telling me some quite unfortunate information," she called worriedly over the store. "Are you becoming intimate with a professor in order to achieve better grades?"

Many of the Slytherins and their families that Ophelia recognized all stopped to zero in on Charlotte who shrunk back slightly, looking back at Mrs. Greengrass in shock as her face flushed a deep red and shame filled her features as she glanced at her parents. "I.. No-"

"That's quite enough, darling. You've given me your answer. Ah, truly unfortunate. It's so easy to fall, isn't it? And fall so fast. Yes, just like that," Edric's mother practically sang back, snapping her fingers in example.

Ophelia was momentarily distracted from the dramatic and unusual scene by her mother murmuring her sad apologies in distress about her lack of money to afford all of the books Ophelia needed for her classes. "It's fine, mum. I'll just find someone to share with. Violet," she muttered back, looking back at toward the pure-bloods.

She met Charlotte's eyes that for a second lost their fear to be replaced with utter hatred as she looked back at Ophelia with murderous, vengeful eyes before her father turned on her, towering over her angrily.

"It seems you've made an enemy," Edric's mother commented to her perkily, her eyes triumphant. "Shame you're not one of us, dear. You play the game well. Astoria, this is the mess your hair would be if you had it your way and didn't allow me to tame it." The woman plucked at Ophelia's hair, looking at her daughter.

Game? What game? She never intended to participate in any type of game, and she certainly did not want to start any feud with Charlotte Blythe of all people! She pulled back from the woman's grabbing, trying to think of a rebuttal to her rudeness about her hair as she stressed over how Charlotte had looked at her.

"Astoria," the woman snapped to her daughter, snatching the piece of candy the child was holding. "How did you get this?"

The little girl crossed her arms over the front of her little dress, scowling. "With my money."

"Money? You don't have money. Give it to me," she replied to her daughter, holding out her hand.

"I do. I found it in Edric's room!"

"So it's my money," Edric said amused, not seeming phased at all with what had just happened with his apparent betrothed.

No longer his betrothed actually, Ophelia assumed. All because of her and her comment during her eavesdropping.

Mrs. Greengrass grabbed the money from her daughter before pausing and turning to Ophelia's own mother who was staring off guiltily, not paying attention to the pure-blood squabbling. She dropped the galleons on the pile of books her mother was holding, tilting her head slightly. "Education is important," she told her mother, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Her mother stared between the money and the woman, processing what was going on. Her face reddened with embarrassment and hurt pride, opening her mouth to protest as she attempted to return the money.

"Now now. You know what they say about falling and pride and what comes first. Here," she told her, winking before covering her eyes with one hand. "I won't look. I'll have no clue if you use it or not. Hurry along, Edric." The woman didn't wait for a response from her mother before she swung around, walking out of the shop with Daphne on her heels.

Ophelia suddenly noticed the group of well dressed young girls whispering and smirking towards Charlotte before eyeing Edric, their gazes full of desire. Ophelia looked to Charlotte who was flinching back from her snarling father, tears falling from her eyes and Ophelia's heart sank. She wasn't fully sure of everything that had happened, but she did know Edric's mother had just gleefully publicly humiliated the girl, and Ophelia feared for her safety based on the violent look in her father's eye.

"You did that," Edric told her as he turned to pay for his books before dropping the rest of the money in his sister's hands as she pouted about the money her mother had taken from her.

"Looks like your future wife is a goner, mate," one of Edric's friends jeered as he came over to him, grinning. "Who's going to take her place now?"

"I suppose we will have to see," Edric replied, smirking as he put a hand on his little sister's shoulder to guide her out of the shop.

"Edric," Ophelia started, concern in her eyes as she looked between his unbothered and smug face and the crying girl who looked as if her life had just been ruined.

"Edric," his friend cooed, mocking her and shoving Edric's shoulder as Edric ignored her and left the shop with his sister and friend, not giving Charlotte a second glance either.

Astoria waved to Charlotte as she left with her brother before blowing a kiss to Ophelia before her brother seemed to scold her and make her look forward.

Ophelia turned to her mother just as she handed the money Mrs. Greengrass had given her to shop worker and Ophelia had never seen a more defeated look on her mother's usually prideful face.

"Sir," Draco's house-elf told him timidly. "Mrs. Malfoy has stopped eating."

"Mmm," he responded, turning away from the ugly thing dismissively.

"Depressed I think, sir."

"Mmm."

"Mrs. Malfoy did not take news of finishing her studies at home well, sir."

Draco snorted. Of course she hadn't. Of course the little snake wanted to get away from him and find more men to throw herself to at Hogwarts. Unfortunately for her, the Aurors had other ideas given their circumstances, and Draco had informed them of Astoria being too ill to come and agree to their idea themselves.

"What should I do, sir?"

"I don't care. Leave me. If she starves that's her fucking choice," he answered coldly, irritated that his servant was still bothering him about this.

"Sir. She keeps asking about you. I am worried that-"

Draco raised his wand warningly and heard the elf squeak its apologies before leaving him immediately in its fear of punishment.

It had been days since he had left Astoria to her isolation, not allowing her sister to come and see her, and not so much as allowing her to come and communicate with the Aurors when they had come.

He should cheat on her as well.

He ought to strengthen their bonds enough for her to really feel him cheat on her, more so than how he had felt her with Nott. He wanted her to feel every burning touch, every bit of pleasure he gave another woman and another woman gave him.

He just couldn't find the desire to be interested in fucking another woman at the moment. He would have to torture her in that way later, he supposed.

"Those who believe strongly in the old witches use traditional magical marriage bonds as reinforcement for their argument," Blaise drawled to Granger who was seated next to Weasley later that day.

Draco was not sure how they had landed on this topic, but here they were, chatting to Weasley and Granger about marriage.

Weasley grimaced, glancing over at Granger uneasily. "Yeah, I mean. It's a load of rubbish really. What they think. The marriage bonds aren't bad. They're.. Traditional. If you truly love someone they're good for the marriage."

Mmm. At least Weasley was intelligent when it came to something.

Blaise raised a brow, examining Weasley distastefully. "My mother never participates in the marriage bonds. She strongly believes in what you call 'rubbish'."

His mother wouldn't allow marriage bonds because of the fact she murdered her husbands in order to gain their wealth, not simply because of her beliefs.

"If you could explain further, Mr. Zabini," Granger said slowly, looking confused.

Of course she was confused; these were pure-blood matters. She wouldn't know anything about them, despite how many books she attempted to read.

"Oh no, I believe your boyfriend wants to explain this 'rubbish'."

Nott was not there as he usually was, much to Blaise's irritation to be without his other friend. Draco would not be able to stomach him for quite some time, despite the fact they had been Death Eaters together and it would most likely be wise for them to work together in this time.

He was sure his pathetic little wife was up in her room now crying about him, wishing for him, her love.

"Well," Weasley started. "Some witches, pure-blood witches, believe that in very ancient times witches held the most power. Then, wizards came along, decided they needed to be controlled, tricked them into these bonds, absorbed some of their power and yeah. Basically leashed them in a sense."

"What a horrible explanation," Blaise scoffed, curling his lip at Weasley.

"I asked you to explain first, Zabini," Granger said reasonably, seeming to consider what Weasley had said to her.

"They don't need a proper explanation, Blaise," Draco said, rolling his eyes, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the conversation as well. "It's just women complaining about their roles as wives."

"You think it's rubbish too, Malfoy?" Granger asked him, curiosity in her eyes.

"It's.. A tale some women like to tell," he responded slowly.

"Marriage bonds favor men," Blaise offered. "Men decide how strong the bonds are and they are almost able to control a witch's magic to an extent. Depending on how strong they are, they are able to know where a witch goes, but a witch doesn't necessarily get to know where he goes. They can know how a witch feels, if a witch touches another man, and other things in that sense. However, they can cut off their side completely if they choose because ultimately it's the woman's magic they are manipulating. They are not so easy to strengthen and manipulate, however. It takes time and knowledge, especially if you want them to work a certain way."

"A good son to your male loathing mother you are, Blaise," Draco said dully, slightly surprised at how he spoke of the tradition as if he were against it. Then again, he was raised solely by his mother.

Blaise tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes expressionless. "I'm only giving her an explanation."

"A one sided explanation. The bonds aren't horrible. They are necessary. They can benefit both the man and woman as well, not only the man."
After the Aurors and Blaise had gone, once Draco had finally gotten to sleep in the early hours of the morning, he was woken by the faint screams coming through the halls.

Again.
Astoria seemed to have nightmares quite often, and Draco couldn't possibly understand what could be haunting her to this extent. Perhaps she was truly losing her mind being alone as she was.

Draco pulled a pillow over his face, attempting to mask the noise only to inhale her scent from the pillow she had used when she had been sleeping next to him. He threw the pillow across the room irritably, yelling for the house-elf to shut her up. He hadn't been able to sleep thoroughly as he had when she were there, and it drove him absolutely insane that he relied on the girl to get a decent amount of sleep. Now here she was waking him up from only the few hours of sleep he managed to get with her nightmares she didn't deserve to have. What nightmares could she possibly come up with? What had she suffered? She probably found losing her precious love as suffering.

No, she didn't know suffering. She didn't know what nightmares were.

The screams stopped and Draco slowly relaxed from the tense position he had been in. He doubted he would be able to fall asleep now, but he had been avoiding adding a silencing charm to her room due to fact that if there were an attack he would need to hear her.

Why did he care?

He shouldn't care about that, not after what she had done. Not after she had betrayed him. He should throw her out, though he knew if he did that would only expose what had happened and a scandal would fall over his family.

Couldn't have that, could he?

So he was stuck with his cheating wife to torment him with her screams and now apparently depression as well as her refusal to eat. Fuck her for making him give a shit, fuck her for being a pitiful little girl, fuck her for wounding his pride.

Fuck her for begging him to care about her and then hurting him when he finally began to.