#drastoria
Day 6 : Angel
I need to do this meme to Scorpius
Day 2 : Love
My baby Scorpius being happy with Dad and Mum
idc what anyone says draco is so much stronger than people give him credit for he’s a traumatized, depressed, lonely single father and he’s doing great stfu
saw a little boy in a dinosaur poncho and had to draw little scorpius wearing one since @roonilbwazlibmade it canon that he’s in love with dinos
13.7k words, G rated
Astoria Greengrass hates Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater, and all round prejudiced asshole. It takes a year for her to change her mind, and another year to fall head-over-heels in love with him. This is the story of how it happens.
I had the idea for this fic a while ago. I thought wouldn’t it be cool if Daphne introduces Astoria and Draco at a party, and wouldn’t it be even cooler if she starts off hating him, while he’s besotted with her from the first moment. It’s taken me a while to get round to writing it, but here we are! I will admit, as Astoria fell in love with Draco, I fell in love with the two of them as a couple. I think they’re wonderful, and I hope some of you will agree.
Massive thanks to @abradystrix for betaing this, and thanks to @platinasi for flailing with me and being generally supportive while I wrote it. You’re both superb human beings.
*
Astoria reaches out and grabs her sister by the arm, plucking her out of the crowd.
“Daphne, what is he doing here?”
Daphne tucks herself in beside Astoria, and peers around. “Who?”
Astoria tuts and nods in the direction of the tall, blond young man who’s just walked through the door. Draco Malfoy is the only person in the room wearing head-to-toe black. Robes, with formal suit trousers that make him look like he’s just left work and hasn’t had time to change into something more comfortable, although Astoria knows he doesn’t really have a job. He looks around at the party like it’s something dangerous and odd, and he has no idea what to do with it.
Astoria folds her arms and slumps back against the wall, glaring at him.
“Oh,” Daphne says, smiling. “Him.”
Astoria elbows her. “Stop that. Why is he here? You can’t have invited him. You’re not that stupid.” She shoots her sister a significant look.
Daphne gives a quiet sigh. “Why can’t I have invited him?” She looks at Astoria. “He was in my year at school. He’s not that bad-”
“Not that bad?” Astoria asks, voice rising with hysterical incredulity. It cuts across the noise of the party, and several people nearby look round at her, curious to see what all the noise is about. She gives them a forced smile and lowers her voice, leaning closer to Daphne.
“Not that bad these days,” Daphne clarifies, holding a hand up to stop her. “I know what you’re going to-”
“He’s a Death Eater,” Astoria hisses, glancing over her shoulder at Draco, who is now moving through the crowd. It parts before him like a wave, and as it closes behind him ripples of heads turn to follow his progress.
“Heused to be a Death Eater,” Daphne corrects. “He’s changed. It’s been years.”
“Two years isn’t that long,” Astoria says, looking round again to glare in Draco’s direction. “I don’t want him here.”
“You don’t have to want him here,” Daphne says, pushing off the wall. “It’s my birthday party. I invited him. And now I’m going to say hello. Do you want to come and be civil?”
Astoria folds her arms more tightly. “Not really. I suppose I’m not allowed to duel him, am I?”
Daphne grins. “You could. But you’d have to go outside. Mum would kill you if you started a fight in here. You know she just redecorated.”
Astoria rolls her eyes. “It’s too hot outside.”
“Then come and debate with him instead.” Daphne holds a hand out, and Astoria eyes her.
“You can’t debate with Death Eaters.”
“That’s never stopped you before,” Daphne says, holding her hand out more insistently. “Come on. I know you’re bored. Just… don’t scare him too much.”
Astoria groans, but takes her sister’s hand, and allows herself to be dragged through the crowd in Draco’s direction. Daphne bounds up to him, the sequins on her dress glittering in the light, a beaming smile on her face.
“Good evening, Malfoy. I thought you weren’t going to come.”
Draco turns to face her, champagne flute in one hand. “I didn’t think I would,” he says, in the sort of bored voice that implies he owns the universe. “But my parents were being so unbearable I needed to escape the house for a bit.” He raises his glass to Daphne. “Many happy returns to you.”
She gives a little bobbing curtsy and gestures in Astoria’s direction. “Thank you very much. Malfoy, have you met my little sister Astoria?”
Draco looks at Astoria. His eyes are grey, like sheets of ice, or shards of slate. Cold and sharp, and, in her opinion, so uninteresting they’re hardly worth looking at.
“Astoria,” he says. “That’s a nice name.” He holds a hand out to her, but she ignores it.
“It’s from the Greek myths,” she says, injecting as much frost into her tone as she can manage. Daphne struggles to restrain a smile.
Draco looks at Astoria with genuine curiosity. “Of course. That’s traditional for your family, isn’t it? I was looking at your family tree the other day and-”
“Is that something you do a lot?” Astoria asks, cutting him off. “Reading family trees? I bet you have the whole Sacred 28 memorised, don’t you. So you can make sure you never have to interact with anyone who isn’t perfectly pure-blooded.” She spits the last word at him, and he blinks, but that’s all he gives away.
“Actually,” he says coolly, “I found it in one of my father’s books while I was tidying his study.” He glances at Daphne. “You can’t move in there for cursed books and dark objects. I might have a few items for you in the next couple of days, if I can sneak them away. I swear he’s been counting them all. I can’t touch anything these days without him throwing a tantrum.” He gives a bitter little sigh.
Daphne gives him a sympathetic smile. “Well, we’d be grateful for anything you can get us. But,” she laughs, “it’s my birthday. I’m not supposed to be talking about work.”
“Of course not,” Draco says. “My sincerest apologies.” There’s a little sparkle of humour in his eyes, and Astoria pulls a face and looks away. She didn’t come here to watch her sister flirt with Draco Malfoy. “Are you having a good day?” Draco asks Daphne.
Daphne shrugs and her shoulders glitter in the enchanted light flooding the room. “It could have been worse. Twenty doesn’t feel much different to nineteen, to be honest. I’ve mostly been running round trying to organise things. There really wouldn’t have been a party without Astoria. She’s indispensable.” Daphne nudges Astoria on the arm, and Astoria looks round at her.
“That wasn’t what you told me earlier,” Astoria says. “When you were telling me off for putting too many lights everywhere.”
Daphne wraps an arm round her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. “I’ve since seen the error of my ways.”
“I think the lights are rather beautiful,” Draco says, glancing around at the room, at the hundreds of floating lights that make the space sparkle and shine. “You’ve done an excellent job.” He looks at Astoria and smiles.
Daphne’s expression twists into a barely restrained smirk, and she pats Astoria on the shoulder. “Yes she has. Oh! I’ve just spotted Vaisey on the other room. Astoria, you’ll entertain Draco for me, won’t you? Nice to have you here Draco. Talk to you later.” And then she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd in a glittering whirl.
“Daphne!” Astoria calls after her, but she doesn’t look back, and Astoria finds herself stranded, alone, with Draco Malfoy. She folds her arms and puts on her best icy smile. Draco doesn’t notice it. He’s fiddling with his champagne flute, long fingers tapping against the delicate crystal.
“So,” Astoria says. “What are you doing these days, Malfoy?” She says his name like it’s something dirty, which to her it is.
He looks up at her. “This and that,” he says. “A little alchemical research. Mostly I’ve been helping get the Manor back in some sort of inhabitable state.”
“Gosh,” Astoria says drily. “That must be such a hardship. I’m sorry Voldemort was such a destructive house guest.”
Draco blinks at her for a second, then looks down at his champagne. “What about you? You must have left Hogwarts by now.”
“I work at the Ministry,” Astoria says. “In the Muggle Liaison Office, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Do you really?” He asks. His tone is polite, but the faintest sneer crosses his face, like he can’t quite help himself.
Astoria pounces. She lifts her chin and looks at him. “And what’s wrong with that?”
Draco shrugs. “Nothing at all. You’re just so…”
“So?”
The sneer becomes almost a smirk. “I thought it was just idiots like Arthur Weasley who work with Muggles.”
Astoria narrows her eyes. “Can you negotiate two complex and often opposing legal systems, Malfoy? Presumably not. I bet you wouldn’t know a Muggle law if it bit you on the ass.”
Draco looks at her, and his smirk doesn’t fade an inch, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Exactly,” Astoria snaps. “Watch who you’re calling an idiot.” She steps in very close to him. “I know you’re keeping the Ministry happy by supplying my sister with dark artefacts from that hellhole of a house you live in, but I’ve got my eye on you Malfoy. One day you’re going to slip, and when you do I’ll be ready, and you’ll find out exactly how much you don’t know about Muggle laws. Or magical ones.” She gives him a long, cold look, then stalks away. As she retreats she can feel his eyes on her, but she ignores him. He’s beneath her notice.
—
Astoria stomps through the library with a stack of books tucked under her arm. Loose strands of hair fall into her eyes, and she blows them impatiently out of the way. Her stomach rumbles as she rushes up the stairs out of the law department. This was supposed to be her lunchtime, but her boss doesn’t believe in breaks, apparently.
For some reason she’s never understood, the books covering Muggle law are kept separate to the magical legal tomes. They’re tucked away in the Muggle Studies section right at the back of the library, which more than doubles the amount of time and effort trips down here take.
She runs through the stacks, counting the shelves, twisting and turning down the familiar path. One of the regulars in the Charms section, a wizened, elderly man, tips his deep purple hat to her as she passes, and she smiles at him. Her robes slip from one of her shoulders as she does, revealing the blouse underneath, and she shrugs them back on and keeps running. Past Transfiguration and Potions and Magical Beasts, down a flight of stairs into Alchemy.
Some of the books are sliding from her grip, and she contorts herself to try and keep hold of them as she runs, but eventually one slips and falls onto the carpet.
“Salazar,” she mutters, hopping to a halt and turning back. “I don’t have time for you to be so-” She reaches for the book, but someone else gets there first.
“Here,” Draco Malfoy says, picking up the book and handing it to her.
Astoria stares at him for a second. “What are you doing here?”
He looks around. “Here? It’s a public library. I’m looking at books. What are you doing here?”
“Working. I don’t have time to talk to you, Malfoy.” She takes her book from him, and gathers the whole stack against her chest. As she struggles to her feet a couple more slip onto the floor. Draco picks them up.
“Would you like some help?” He asks. “I don’t know why you don’t just levitate them.”
Astoria tuts. “I’m about to walk down a Muggle street. I can’t ‘just levitate them’. Would you put those on top?” She nods to the teetering stack that comes to just below her chin.
“I could conjure you a bag,” he offers, setting the two books carefully onto the pile.
Astoria clamps them beneath her chin and sets off walking. “I don’t need your help.”
She expects to leave Draco behind as she heads for the Muggle Studies section. There’s no way Draco would be caught dead in there, and he’s probably only in the library for the Alchemy books. But to her surprise and annoyance, he stays by her side as she moves through the shelves, wand drawn, ready to catch her books if she drops them.
“Are you following me?” She snaps, shooting him a hard look.
“No,” he says. “I’m walking in this direction.”
“These are the Muggle books,” she reminds him.
Draco’s cheeks flush with a faint pink tinge, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I know which section I’m in. I’m not an idiot.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in this sort of thing, Malfoy.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Draco says. He gives Astoria a long look, seems to consider saying something, then decides against it. Instead, he waves his wand and summons a sturdy canvas bag, which he drapes over the top of Astoria’s books. “That’s in case you decide to stop being stubborn,” he says, and then he turns and walks away among the shelves.
Astoria watches him go for a moment, then she shakes her head and marches off to get the rest of her books. She tries her hardest to carry them all without the bag, but she just can’t hold them all, and they’re making her wrists and shoulders ache even worse than they usually do. Using Draco’s bag would be tantamount to admitting defeat, but she can’t deny it would be sensible. Of course she could summon her own bag and use that, but that would be petty to the point of stupidity. Plus, as good as she is at Conjuration, she isn’t entirely sure she could make something quite so sturdy. Draco has done a good job…
With a growl she starts shoving her books into the bag. At least he won’t see her using it. He’s probably long gone by now. Still, she checks the coast is clear before sneaking out towards the front desk. There’s no one around that she can see.
She keeps her head down as she moves back through the library. Occasionally people in here recognise her and want to chat, but she doesn’t have time for that today. There’s a hearing in a couple of hours and they need these books.
When she reaches the front desk there’s already someone there. Draco is leaning against the counter and chatting to the librarian while she stamps out his books.
“If there are any more you could recommend,” he says, “I’d certainly be interested. That other book was fascinating.”
“Of course, dear,” the librarian replies, giving him a warm smile. “There are plenty more where these came from. Research has exploded since the war.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and pushes his books across the counter to him.
“I’m sure it has,” he says, taking his books and looking down at them. “Have a good afternoon.”
“You too, Mr Malfoy.”
Draco turns from the counter, still studying his books, and he walks right into Astoria.
“Ouch,” she says, lifting her foot off the ground and rubbing it where he’s just stood on it.
“Astoria,” he says, eyes widening as he recognises her. “I’m sorry. Are you-”
“Fine. Completely fine.” She brushes him off, but as she’s about to move past him she recognises one of the books he’s carrying. “Is that-?” she asks, pointing at it.
Draco puts it behind his back. “It’s an Alchemy book,” he lies, without even a flicker of hesitation.
Astoria grins. “You’ve got a Muggle law book. I thought they were for idiots.”
Draco’s expression twists and tightens, and he seems to struggle with himself for a moment. Finally he draws himself up to his full height, which is quite impressive, especially accentuated by the robes, and the long legs, clad today in tight grey trousers. “You’re using my bag,” he says. “I thought you didn’t want my help?”
Astoria’s cheeks heat, and she narrows her eyes at him. “It seemed like a sensible option.”
Draco hugs his books to his chest. “A knowledge of Muggle law seemed like a sensible option too.”
For a moment they look at each other, and Astoria tries to work out what’s going on behind his unreadable, perfectly schooled expression. Then she shakes her head and brushes past him. Draco glances at her as she goes.
“Have a nice afternoon, Astoria.”
She pauses in getting the books out of the bag for the librarian to stamp, and looks up at him. “Yes,” she says, because she doesn’t really know what else to say.
—
Astoria ducks as a flock of interdepartmental memos shoot over her head like arrows. She follows them out of the lift onto Level Two, shuffling through the papers in her hand and not really looking where she’s going. This building is a maze, but she’s learned it so well in the last few months, that her feet just take her where she needs to go. Anyway, the corridors aren’t busy at the moment. Most people have gone home by this time on a Friday evening.
She’s so preoccupied with her papers that she doesn’t realise she has company until Daphne taps her on the arm. “Astoria!“
She looks up at her sister’s sing-song voice. "Daphne. I thought you would have left already."
Daphne smiles and winds her scarf round her neck. "I’m on my way out now. Are you going to make it for dinner? I should warn Mum if you’re going to be late.”
Astoria looks back down at her papers. “I might be a bit… Tell her half an hour."
Daphne nods. "An hour it is then."
"Am I that bad?” Astoria glances up, running a hand through her hair.
“Yes,” Daphne grins, “you are. What is it this time? Another one of those stupid Muggle Suppressionist gangs?”
Astoria shakes her head. “Do you remember how we had that campaign to try and find Selwyn? A Muggle Police Officer found him and tried to arrest him. She… she didn’t come out of it very well."
Daphne blanches and puts a hand on Astoria’s shoulder. "I’ll tell Mum you’ll be late. I’ll make sure we save something for you."
Astoria smiles weakly. "Thanks. I should get back…”
“Please actually finish your work this time,” Daphne calls, walking backwards down the corridor so she can keep looking at her sister. “I know you. You’ll spend all weekend thinking about it and you’ll be a total misery."
Astoria nods. "I will. See you in a bit."
Behind them the lift pings, ready to move again. Daphne sprints to it and puts her foot in to stop the doors closing. "You’re probably not interested,” she says, turning back once more. “But Draco Malfoy is round the corner.”
Astoria’s head snaps up. “What?"
"I know,” Daphne says, grinning. “See you Astoria.” And she disappears into the lift, the golden doors sliding shut on her.
Astoria watches her go, then she shakes her head and looks back at her papers. Why does it matter if Draco is here or not? The Malfoys are always snooping around at the Ministry. It’s hardly big news.
She wanders on down the corridor, but pokes her head out before rounding the next corner. As much as it doesn’t matter whether Malfoy is here or not, she’s not keen to run into him. She has far too much work to do for that.
He’s there in the corridor, because of course he is. All slicked-back blond hair, high-collared black robes, and sharp, handsome features. Wait, handsome?
Astoria pulls back and flattens herself against the wall. Draco Malfoy is not handsome. Loathsome more like. He’s pale and angular and haughty, and- She pokes her head back round the corner. Okay, maybe he is a little bit handsome. In a repulsive sort of way.
At the moment he’s standing there talking to a very harassed looking Harry Potter. Harry’s glasses are askew, and his hair has the stressed, wild look it gets when he’s been in meetings all day. It seems as though Draco has cornered him. He keeps glancing at his watch, and he’s slowly inching his way along the wall, making an apparent bid for freedom, while Draco keeps up an insistent monologue.
Astoria decides to rescue Harry. She needs a word with him anyway, and no one deserves to be trapped in a conversation with Draco Malfoy, especially not the saviour of the Wizarding World. She pats her hair to neaten it up, smooths a crease out of her skirt, then draws herself up straight and marches round the corner.
“Harry,” she says, trying to sound like she’s surprised and relieved to see him. “I was hoping to run into you."
Both Harry and Draco turn to look at her. Harry adjusts his glasses. Draco’s expression melts from a frown into a warm smile, which thaws the ice in his eyes.
"Good evening, Astoria,” he says.
“Hello,” Astoria replies, as coolly as she can when he’s smiling at her like that. Now that she’s noticed it, he really is quite handsome. She has to swallow hard to find her voice again, and does her best to avoid looking at Draco again. “Harry, do you have a second to talk about the Selwyn case?"
Harry sighs and checks his watch. "Yes, I think so. But it’ll have to be quick. Ginny threatened me with the Bat Bogey Hex if I’m late for dinner again."
Astoria smiles. "We can walk and talk.” She gestures down the corridor in the direction of their offices.
Harry nods and glances back at Draco. “Send me all that stuff in an Owl and I’ll see what I can do, okay?"
Draco inclines his head. "Anything you like, Potter.” He looks at Astoria. “I hope I’ll see you soon."
Astoria resists the urge to reply ‘I wouldn’t count on it’, and instead shrugs. "Perhaps.”
His smile widens an inch, and his eyes sparkle like diamonds as he turns away. Astoria shakes her head and tries to remember what she wanted to talk to Harry about. Draco’s face has wiped all sensible thought from her brain.
They’re halfway down the hall to the Auror cubicles when Harry prompts her. “Selwyn,” he says. “You wanted to talk to him.”
“Yes! Of course.” She pulls out one of the papers from her stack. “I got your memo with the testimony; it’s perfect, thank you. I just wanted to ask though, do you happen to have a transcript of the message that went out on the Muggle news? I leant mine to Boot and he hasn’t given it back yet.”
Harry rubs his forehead and nods distractedly. “Yeah, yeah I might. I’ll have a look."
"Great. And did you know about the discrepancy with-”
“The Obliviator’s report,” Harry groans. “It’s all I’ve heard about all day. Don’t worry. We’re working on it."
"Of course,” Astoria says. She checks the page again and shakes her head. “I think that’s it.” She hugs the papers to her chest and looks at Harry. When she speaks she tries to keep her voice light and casual. “What, um… what did Malfoy want?”
“Malfoy? Oh,” Harry runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “There’s a case he’s sort of helping with. And generally he has a lot of opinions. Too many opinions. I wish he’d just send Owls, but…” he waves a hand back in the direction of where they’d last seen Draco. “I think he likes to be seen.”
“The Malfoys have always skulked around here,” Astoria says. “I’m sorry he was bothering you."
"I don’t mind,” Harry says. “At least he’s occasionally useful.” They arrive at his desk, which is a chaotic mess of parchment and files. He starts sifting through the detritus, and eventually comes up with a slightly coffee-stained file. He pulls out a couple of pages, scans them, and finally hands one to Astoria. “Is this what you’re after?"
She looks down at it and nods. "That’s perfect.” She draws her wand and replicates the transcript. “I knew Malfoy was helping the artefacts team, but I didn’t know he was on board with the Aurors too.”
Harry makes a fruitless attempt to shuffle the files on his desk into some sort of order, but he quickly gives up. “He knows people. Connections get you everywhere in a case, and he seems willing to help, so…” He gives a one-shouldered shrug and starts pulling his travelling cloak on. “Listen, I’ve got to run. If you need anything else send me…” he trails off as he looks at the disaster that is his in-tray. “Don’t send me a memo. Run down and see me or something. You’ll figure it out."
Astoria smiles and lays the file back on top of Harry’s mountains of paperwork. "I will. Have a good weekend, Harry."
She takes the transcript back to her desk, where she flops down with a heavy sigh and kicks her shoes off, rubbing her feet. She flips open her case file and starts reading her notes, while she massages her toes. As an afterthought she waves her wand at one of the Muggle Biros in her pen pot, which poises itself on a bit of blank parchment, ready to take notes.
She gets through a couple of paragraphs before her thoughts start to stray. She trails off mid-sentence in her dictation, and her enchanted Biro grinds to a messy halt.
It makes sense for Malfoy to be hanging around the Ministry, chatting up whoever’s in power. That’s what the Malfoys have done for centuries. But the idea of him helping out for any good reason, because he’s changed, is laughable. This, making friends with the right people and being seen in the right places, is just how he works.
But then again… Everyone at Hogwarts knew about him and Harry, how they hated each other. It’s amazing to see them talking, let alone working together. And he was reading that Muggle law book when she saw him a couple of months ago. It didn’t seem like the first one he’d read either. And that wasn’t for show, he tried to hide it, tried to lie about it.
Is Draco Malfoy changing? Is that even possible? Can Death Eaters change? Maybe this is just another Malfoy game, a way of slithering out of trouble yet again, because Death Eaters don’t change, they don’t feel remorse or try to get better, do they?
The image of Draco’s smiling face, eyes sparkling as he’d looked at her, swims unbidden to the front of her mind and she buries her face in her hands with a growl. She runs her fingers through her hair and tries not to think about him, but it’s impossible. He’s a curiosity, an attractive curiosity, and it’s almost as though he’s following her, popping up all over the place, sticking in her head and making her think. She doesn’t want to think, not about him, but apparently her stupid brain has other ideas.
Opening her eyes, she stares blankly down at her file, and shakes her head. She’s not getting anymore work done tonight, not now, not thanks to him. These papers will have to wait until Monday, when hopefully all thoughts of Draco Malfoy will be driven deep into the dustbin of her mind where they belong, by a weekend of Daphne’s sensible advice and their mother’s incessant gossip.
With one last forlorn glance at all the work she isn’t going to do, she tucks the papers back into their file, and places it on top of her neat ‘to do’ pile. She slides her feet back into her shoes, winds her scarf round her neck, and pulls her coat on, before rushing away. As she leaves she vows to spend the entire evening moaning to Daphne about how Draco Malfoy is ruining her life, and society in general.
—
Astoria sits cross-legged on the office floor, shoes abandoned by the door, surrounded by a mess of parchment. The department has been bombarded with Owls this morning, as the Ministry has just announced its new pro-Muggle legislation. The piles of parchment scattered across the office floor are the hundreds of responses that have already poured in from all around the country, and Astoria is the one who’s ended up having to sort through them all.
Most of the letters are boring and generic, or have been sent by regular correspondents, who like to have their say on everything the Ministry does, from mundane regulations on cauldron thickness, all the way up to dramatic Auror raids on the few Death Eaters still at large. A couple are more interesting.
There’s a lengthy and emotional letter from one of the St Oswald’s residents, detailing the story of her mother, a Muggleborn witch who’d fought in the wars against both Grindelwald and Voldemort. Another comes from a Hogwarts fourth year, a Slytherin, who is pleased to hear that Muggle Studies will be made a compulsory subject for all students. Now and then, the odd letter just spews abuse, and Astoria narrowly avoids a curse contained in one envelope, but most are at least interesting and well reasoned, even when she disagrees with them.
She tosses a thick sheaf of parchment onto the pro pile, containing a letter and signatures from one of the most vocal Muggle support groups. It’s not at all surprising to find them among the wave of correspondents. They’ve been consulted about the legislation multiple times already, and are fully in favour of it.
She smiles fondly at the familiar set of names as she picks the next letter off the pile. This one is a lot thinner, and when she flips it over to break the seal, she realises she recognises the crest. It’s the Malfoy coat of arms, accompanied by a small scattering of stars that Astoria recognises as Draco’s constellation.
She stares down at it for a moment, taking in the delicate pattern stamped onto the green wax. Her fingers shakes ever so slightly, and she swallows hard. She turns the envelope over and over in her hands, but she can’t bring herself to open it. There could be anything inside. She has no idea what to expect of Draco anymore. Presumably this is the sort of thing he would oppose?
His handwriting on the front of the envelope is very neat. Small and precise, apart from the expansive flourishes on his descenders, which seem to take up all the space left by their less flamboyant neighbours. She reads the address three times before, heart pounding, she decides she should just get on with reading the letter. She isn’t meant to care this much. It’s her job to read the letters, sort them, and hand them over, not to sit here and panic about what one of them might contain.
"Pull yourself together,” she mutters to herself, and she slits open the seal.
Inside the envelope is a single sheet of parchment, with a short letter written on it in the same neat handwriting.
To whom it may concern,
I am writing to express my support for the newly proposed Muggle Protection and Education Act.
Although I cannot offer my wholehearted agreement with every aspect of the legislation, I believe this to be a largely well-written, well considered, and necessary new law. I hope it will benefit and strengthen both Wizarding and Muggle society, and I would urge Wizengamot members to vote in favour of accepting it.
Yours most sincerely,
DM
Astoria reads the letter through several times. With each reading she relaxes a little more, her heart rate slows, and she feels as though she can start to breathe again.
Draco supports the legislation. Not completely, but he does support it. Enough to have bothered to write a letter and send it in. It’s a wonderful revelation. It shows that he might not be too awful after all, that he might deserve a chance…
She reads the letter one final time, taking in more of the handwriting. She especially enjoys the way he writes the D of his initials; a broad, bold, sweeping curve, which leads to the spiky M.
He hasn’t written out his full name, she realises. If you didn’t recognise the seal or the handwriting, there’d be no way of knowing that this letter came from Draco Malfoy. Perhaps that was deliberate, although Astoria doesn’t really understand why. Isn’t it the Malfoy way to show off about this sort of thing? Political opinions and beliefs? Especially when they favour the current government?
She frowns down at the signature, trying to figure it out, but she can’t. She doesn’t understand Draco. She’d thought she did, she’d thought he was simple: a selfish, prejudiced man whose blood status matters more to him than anything else. But apparently not. At least not entirely. Draco Malfoy is an enigma. And Astoria has always quite enjoyed solving puzzles.
She sets the letter aside, not on any of the piles for the moment, just to one side where she can see it out of the corner of her eye. Then she gets on with reading through the rest of the letters. Draco’s is the last one she files away, and even once she’s handed over all the correspondence and moved onto other jobs, that letter doesn’t leave her thoughts for the rest of the day.
—
Later that evening, Astoria swirls out of the darkness with a flourish of her cloak, and twists her ankle as her heel catches in the crack between two paving slabs. She swears and hops on one foot for a moment, glaring down at the path. The heel of her new shoes isn’t broken, thank goodness, but she hits it with a Reparo just to make sure, then hobbles off up the path to her sister’s house.
She knocks loudly and stands back to wait. It only takes a second before the door swings open of its own accord and she steps inside, kicking her shoes off before she ventures down the hall.
The house is quiet. When she calls Daphne’s name it echoes along the corridor and up the stairs. All the lights are on, but there’s no sign of Daphne anywhere. Normally that just means she’s hidden away in the study at the back, working late, or on a Fire Call with someone.
Astoria wanders deeper into the house. There’s a stack of post on a sideboard that she neatens up, and a copy of Witch Weekly that she briefly flicks through before pulling a face and dropping it onto the coffee table. Her sister has horrible taste in magazines.
She goes into the kitchen, and she’s just drawn her wand to start making tea when the door to Daphne’s office opens and two people walk out. Daphne, accompanied by none other than Draco Malfoy. The mug Astoria had been levitating out of the cupboard smashes as she forgets what she’s doing and stares at him, the letter flying to the front of her mind once more.
With a sweep of his wand, Draco repairs the mug, picks it up, and strides across the kitchen to hand it to her. “I believe you dropped this.”
Astoria feels as though her face is on fire. She takes the mug, fingers brushing Draco’s for a moment, which only makes her heart beat faster. “Y-yes,” she stutters. “Yes. Thank you.” She turns away from him and puts the mug safely back on the side where it can’t be broken again. She takes a moment to lean against the side and compose herself before turning back and pushing a smile onto her face.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Draco. Are you bothering my sister?"
"Not bothering, I hope.” Draco glances at Daphne. “I had some items to deliver, and I happened to be passing by."
Daphne smiles. "Never bothering, Draco. Would you two excuse me just a second? I need to grab something from upstairs.” She flashes Astoria a grin as she passes, and Astoria tries a silent appeal for help, which Daphne ignores. She disappears out into the hall, leaving Astoria and Draco alone together.
Astoria looks down at her feet and fiddles with the buttons on the cuffs of her jacket. Draco shuffles his feet and tucks a strand of hair off his face. He seems to be growing it out, and it frames his face in soft, curling little wisps.
“I managed to procure a few of my father’s more dangerous but less valuable items,” Draco explains after a moment of awkward silence. “I’d rather turn them in than have our house raided again. I’m not sure he’s in a healthy enough state for… you know. He’s easily upset.” He trails off and bows his head, looking down at his fingers as they run along the edge of the kitchen table.
Astoria takes a breath and tries to work out what she wants to say to him. “You sent a letter to the Ministry,” she blurts out after a moment. “You wrote a letter about the new Muggle Protection and Education Act. You didn’t sign it, but I read it, and I recognise your seal, and- and you supported it…” she runs out of steam and starts twisting her fingers together.
Draco opens his mouth, then closes it again. He frowns, and seems to struggle with himself for several long seconds. “The Malfoys have always been influential in politics,” he says. “I don’t know why you’re surprised that I’m interested in current affairs."
"But you weren’t…” Astoria looks up at him. “You weren’t opposing the legislation.”
“No,” Draco says bluntly, putting his hands in his pockets. “No. I wasn’t. But if it makes you feel better, my father and mother both are."
"You didn’t sign the letter,” Astoria says. “Why didn’t you sign it?"
"I didn’t realise I was required to sign every letter I write,” Draco says levelly, and Astoria recognises a bite of frost in his tone.
“You don’t,” she says hurriedly. “Of course not. I just thought…” She shakes her head. “I didn’t understand… I’m sorry.” She looks him right in the face. “I’m glad you support it. It proves… I don’t know. I’m just glad."
A satisfied smirk stretches across Draco’s face. "Astoria Greengrass approves of something I’ve done. This is a momentous occasion. I’ll have to remember this forever.”
“Yes,” Astoria replies, unable to keep herself from smiling. “You will, because it isn’t going to happen again any time soon.”
Draco laughs. “That sounds like a challenge.”
Astoria lifts her chin. “Perhaps it is.”
Draco grins. “Challenge accepted, then.” He gestures to the door. “I should probably go and get started right away. It seems I have a lot of hard work to do.” He gives Astoria a small, slightly ridiculous bow, and walks toward the door.
As he goes, Astoria is seized by a moment of madness. She steps forward and calls after him. “Draco?”
He turns back to look at her. “Yes?”
She swallows. “It’s my birthday in a couple of weeks. I’m having a party. Would you like to come?”
Draco blinks at her, then a smile spreads across his face and his eyes go soft like silver silk. “That would be nice, thank you. Owl me the details and I’m sure I can find room for it in my social calendar.”
“Your social calendar,” Astoria snorts.
“I’m very much in demand,” Draco says seriously.
“I’m sure,” Astoria grins.
“I am!” Draco protests, and when Astoria continues to grin at him, he shakes his head and turns away. “Have a nice evening, Astoria.” She can hear the smile in his voice as he says it, and when she follows him to the door and watches him retreat down the hall, she’s certain she doesn’t imagine the new spring in his step, as though he’s walking on air.
Astoria leans in the doorway and grins until the front door snaps shut. At that precise moment Daphne materialises on the stairs.
“Oh,” she says, a vision of innocence. “Has he gone?"
Astoria turns on her sister. "You abandoned me with him deliberately! You didn’t have to fetch anything, did you?"
Daphne skips down the stairs, smirking. "Are you not grateful?"
Astoria glares mutinously at her for a moment, then looks down at her hands. "I invited him to my party,” she mutters.
Daphne gives a shriek of delight and hugs her. “Did you ask him as your date?"
"No!” Astoria protests, pushing her sister away. “I don’t like him like that.”
“Mmhmm?” Daphne says, a smug grin on her face.
“I don’t!” Astoria says. Then, when Daphne doesn’t stop grinning she elbows her in the ribs. “I don’t… but I might need you to help me pick something to wear…”
“Okay!” Daphne chirps, and hugs her again.
—
The party is too noisy. Astoria has been bounced from conversation to conversation all evening. Her feet are aching, her head is aching, her ears are aching, and she feels faint from the heat. The one person she’s been excited and anxious to see all week is here, she’s seen him, but she hasn’t had chance to talk to him all night, and now she’s going to have to leave before she passes out.
She looks around one last time for Draco, but doesn’t spot him among the crowds, so she grabs a glass of water from a passing waiter and hurries out of the door into the cool hallway.
She sinks onto the stairs, sets the glass down beside her, and buries her face in her hands. Her circulation has always been terrible, so her hands are cold even though the rest of her is burning hot. They cool her down, to the point where she starts shivering. She hugs herself and curls up, wishing she’d worn a warmer dress. This one is beautiful, soft, and floaty, and enchanted to mimic the colour of the night sky - at the moment purple and pink at the top, with vivid red near the bottom, courtesy of the setting sun - but it isn’t warm, and now she’s sitting still, Astoria has never felt colder.
She folds herself up as small as she can and tucks her fingers under her arms as she leans against the bannister. She could try and get a cardigan or a coat or something, but her feet ache from the stupid shoes she’s wearing, shoes she’ll never get off because they’re so intricately strapped to her feet, and she isn’t sure she could climb the stairs anyway. Her legs feel weak, and she’s not just shaking from the cold. She knows the difference.
It’s been a long time since she was last really ill, in her third year at Hogwarts. She was alright one day, not well, but normal for her, but then she slowly deteriorated over a few days. It had been awful, she can still remember the pain and exhaustion, and she’s always been terrified of it happening again. Maybe this is it… She’s never been naive enough to believe it wouldn’t happen again at some point.
She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against the bannister. This would be a great time for Daphne to come and rescue her. Her sister normally has a sixth sense for this sort of thing. It’s probably only a matter of time before she-
The door opens. Astoria looks up in hope, but she’s disappointed to see that it isn’t her sister. It’s actually the very last person she wants to see when she’s in a state like this. Draco Malfoy, looking as handsome and well put together as always. He’s wearing an icy blue jacket today, over a pristine white shirt. His neatly slicked hair falls almost to his shoulders, and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the party. Astoria turns away from him and tries to make herself invisible. Unfortunately it doesn’t work.
“Astoria,” he says, and his voice is flooded with concern. “I saw you leave. Are you alright?"
She nods. "Fine,” she lies. “I’m fine. I just wanted some fresh air. You should go back inside."
"But you’re out here. If I wait for you inside you’ll be accosted by at least a hundred people, and I’ll never get a look in. We Malfoys believe in taking opportunities when they’re presented to us.” He strides across the room, shoes clicking on the stone floor, and sits on the step beside her. “You’re shivering,” he says softly. “Are you sure you’re okay?"
"It was too hot in there,” she murmurs. “But now I’m out here I’m cold…”
Without hesitation, Draco shrugs off his jacket and tries to wrap it round her shoulders. She does her best to push it away.
“No, don’t. I don’t want you to get cold too."
"I won’t,” Draco says confidently. “Besides, I’m wearing far more clothes than you are, and warmer ones. You need this far more than I do. Please. If I get cold I promise to steal it back. Does that make you happy?"
Astoria thinks for a moment, then she nods and lets him slide the jacket round her shoulders. She doesn’t regret it. His warmth folds around her and she immediately relaxes a bit. She hugs the jacket closed. Even though he’s thin, she’s always been tiny thanks to her illness, so she’s swamped in all the blue fabric.
Draco adjusts the collar of the jacket, and doesn’t remove his hand from her shoulder. "This is an excellent party, thank you for inviting me. I must say, your taste in music is exquisite."
Astoria smiles. "I didn’t choose the music. Daphne insisted on playing DJ for the night."
Draco frowns. "D… J?”
Astoria’s smile broadens and she glances up at him. “Muggles have them at parties, to look after the music.”
Draco nods. “Of course. Well, perhaps I should start borrowing Muggle dictionaries from the library next. Clearly I have a lot to learn."
"I’m sure I have one you could borrow,” she offers, shuffling closer to him on the step.
“That would certainly be enlightening,” he says. His hand slips sideways on her shoulder, until his arm is curled round her. She throws caution to the winds and leans against him. As she does, his hand brushes the bare skin on her shoulder and he screws his face up.
“Merlin, you’re freezing. How can a person be so cold?” He gathers her in closer and starts rubbing her shoulder to try and warm her up.
“I have poor circulation,” she informs him.
“If you get any colder you’re going to turn into an ice block. Here.” He draws his wand and waves it over her.
Warmth trickles slowly through every fibre of her being. It’s like being plunged into the most perfect bath. It creeps and curls from her head, down her spine, spreading into her fingers, sinking into her bones, making her heart sing. Her toes, which had been starting to go numb, revive, and already she feels considerably less ill. She rubs her hands together and smiles at Draco.
“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you."
"Do you feel better?” He asks.
“A lot."
"Then of course I had to do it,” he says, returning the smile.
Astoria puts her feet flat on the floor and flexes her toes. “I think… I might be able to go back inside in a minute. At least my head doesn’t hurt anymore.” She looks around for her glass of water and picks it up, draining it in one. “My feet do though.” She sighs and relaxes against Draco’s side.
“How can you move in those shoes?” He asks, looking down at them. “They’re just straps and stilettos. They can’t be comfortable."
"They’re not,” Astoria says, stretching her feet out in front of her. “But they look nice. They make melook nice."
Draco nods and looks at her. "I can agree with that."
She knows she’s blushing, but she can’t help it. She ducks her head and brushes a stray bit of hair out of her eyes, hoping he can’t see how red she’s gone. "Well…” She pushes herself unsteadily to her feet. “People are probably missing me inside.” She steps off the stairs and discovers she still feels a bit faint. The world spins, and she reaches for something to hold onto, except there isn’t anything. But then Draco stands up beside her and grips her arm, holding her steady.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit for a bit longer?"
She shakes her head. "No. But I might need to use you as a leaning post for a bit."
"I’m yours for as long as you want me,” Draco says.
He ends up staying by her side, holding her arm, for the rest of the night.
—
Two days after her birthday, Astoria is admitted to St Mungo’s. She’s been told for years that the older she gets the worse the curse will affect her, but she never wanted to believe it. Now, though, she has no choice. She’d thought her illness in third year had been bad, but this is far worse.
She’s so exhausted she sleeps almost constantly for a week. When she tries to move her whole body screams in agony. She bruises easily, and ends up looking a battered mess after just a short walk around her room. The one time she has the energy to try and read, she gets a paper cut that bleeds for hours.
Mostly she just feels sick, and shaky, and a small part of her thinks that if this is going to get worse with time, maybe it would be best to just give up now. She’s not even sure what could be worse than this, but she isn’t that keen to find out.
By the time she’s been in hospital for two weeks she’s starting to feel a bit better, and is also starting to get bored. Constant sleep sounds wonderful, but it gets a bit repetitive after a while. And there’s no one to talk to most of the time. Her mum and Daphne drop in and see her, Daphne is there every day for at least an hour or two, but they both have other things to do. Lives and jobs. Astoria has never wanted anyone else to stop living on her account, so she spends every weekday alone, at once wishing she had more to do and feeling too tired to do anything at all.
On Tuesday morning, two weeks after the party, Astoria is not asleep. She’s curled up in bed, buried under a mountain of blankets, and the room is dark. She’s supposed to be sleeping, but she’s aching all over and finding it hard to drift off. Her mind is wide awake too, which doesn’t help. It’s buzzing with boredom, urging her to occupy it with some form of entertainment, be it a book or a person or really anything at all.
She’s still struggling to sleep when there’s a quiet knock on the door. Curious, she lifts her head just high enough to see over the top of all the blankets, and peers through the gloom. She’s not expecting any visitors, Daphne’s at work, and her Healer only left twenty minutes ago.
“Come in,” she says, rubbing her eyes. For a moment she thinks whoever is outside can’t have heard her. Her voice is weak and hoarse at the moment, and she can’t project. She certainly can’t get out of bed to let anyone in. Maybe they’ll just stay standing out there until they get bored and leave.
But then the door opens, and standing silhouetted against the light from the corridor is Draco. He hesitates on the threshold, looking torn between coming in or running away. “Is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to wake you…"
Astoria shakes her head and struggles to claw herself upright, so she’s propped against her pillows. Her joints and head protest, and it takes several seconds, but finally she’s sitting up, and she hopes she looks at least a little bit dignified. "No,” she says, picking up her wand and directing it at the bedside lamp, which flickers into life. “Please come in."
Draco steps inside, closing the door behind him, and hovers around by the foot of the bed. He looks like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, uncomfortable and uncertain. He’s still wearing his coat and gloves. "I heard you were…” he trails off, gesturing to the bed. “Are you recovering?"
"No,” Astoria says, a sharp bitterness in her voice. She runs her fingers through her hair and shakes her head. “Sorry. I-I am getting better. But I’m not going to… you know, get better.” She emphasises the last two words and separates them, hoping he’ll understand without her having to spell it out. “Not in the end…"
He nods and looks down at his hands, but doesn’t say anything. Silence stretches between them, long and melancholy. In the half-light Draco’s eyes sparkle like rain on a grey day.
Astoria takes a breath. She hates silences like this, the ones she always has to deal with once people realise what her illness means. "I, um. Did my sister tell you I was here?"
Draco shakes his head and runs his fingers along the metal frame of the bed, right by Astoria’s feet. "No. I was at the Ministry and I noticed you weren’t at your desk. One of your colleagues told me you were sick.”
Despite the exhaustion and the pain, Astoria manages a weak smile. “Did you enquire about my health, Draco? That was sweet of you."
His cheeks colour pink. "I did nothing of the sort. I was merely concerned that you might have been… kidnapped by a mad Muggle or something."
"A mad Muggle,” Astoria repeats, shaking her head. “Never change, Draco."
"I don’t intend to,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, then glances at her. “Once I knew you were ill I did ask your sister if I could visit. I didn’t want to intrude. I know you don’t like me much."
Astoria frowns. "When have I ever said I didn’t like you?"
Draco shrugs. "It was implied."
She looks down at her hands and pulls the covers further up in her lap, bunching the material between her fingers. "Well, I don’t. Not like you. I think you’re decent. You’re certainly not boring."
His expression twists into something unreadable. "I think there might be a compliment in there somewhere?”
Astoria sighs. “I was trying to be nice.” She brushes her hair out of her eyes with slightly shaky fingers. “I think I’m starting to… you’re the only person who’s come to visit me. Apart from Daphne and Mum. And at the party, you…” She smooths a crease out of her blanket. “I think I could consider you a friend at this point.”
Draco raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Could you? We’ve never had a conversation that lasted more than two minutes. Apart from at your birthday party, but I don’t think that counts. I was more a glorified leaning post than a conversation partner.”
Astoria looks up at him and smiles. “Well, now’s your chance.” She beckons him toward her. “Take your coat off, pretend you’re staying. You could even sit down if you wanted to be really daring."
Draco hesitates. "Are you sure you’re not too tired? I don’t want to-”
“If I get tired I’ll just fall asleep while you’re talking at me. It’ll be obvious when I need you to leave."
Draco smiles. "Alright then.” He shrugs out of his coat and hangs it up by the door, then he sits on the chair beside her and leans back, folding one leg over the other. “This room is rather nice. I always imagined hospital rooms would be a bit dingy an uncomfortable."
Astoria looks around. "I think they give me a nicer one because they know I’m going to be here for a while.” She points her wand across the room at a pile of sweets lying abandoned on a table. “Would you like a Jelly Slug?’ She asks, glancing at Draco. "Or a bean? I have more sweets here than I could ever eat in my life. I think word’s got around that I like them…” She summons the packet of Jelly Slugs from the side and holds it out to Draco. “I’d offer them to my clients at work, but can you imagine a Muggle finding a vomit flavoured Bertie Bott’s Bean? It would amount to torture. I’d have to arrest myself.”
Draco smiles and takes a Slug. “Imagine if a Chocolate Frog got loose in the Muggle world. You could cause a diplomatic incident."
Astoria sighs dramatically and bites the head off her Jelly Slug. "I’d never be allowed to work again. And I do quite like my job."
"I’ve always been curious about that,” Draco says. “You’re a Greengrass. You’re a Pureblood. But you work with Muggles. It always felt like a-” He looks at her, eyes bright with genuine curiosity rather than contempt. “I don’t know. I’ve never understood."
"If the war didn’t make you understand,” Astoria says, tone harsh, “then I can’t help you."
Draco sighs. "I didn’t mean… I know why it’s important. But you could do anything. You could be anything. Why this? Why them?"
Astoria shrugs and looks down at her hands. "Life is short. Why not do something worthwhile with it? No one else is going to defend them. The fact that I’m a Pureblood, whatever the hell that means, just makes it more important."
Draco surveys her, leaning back in his seat. "You’re a far better person than me."
"Everyone’s a better person than you, Draco.” She looks at him. “But don’t worry. The only way you can go from here is up."
Draco seems to consider that for a moment before he smiles. "How inspirational,” he says drily. “You should have considered a career in motivational speaking."
Astoria grins and eats another Jelly Slug. While she chews, Draco looks at the books on her bedside table. He flips through one, a Muggle novel, and sets it aside with a contemptuous expression. The next he opens up and his eyes widen. He plucks something out of it, a thin silver bookmark that he holds up, marking the page with his finger instead.
"This was your birthday present. I bought you this. And you’re using it."
"Oh,” Astoria smiles. “Yes. Normally I use scraps of parchment, but they always fall out. This is useful. It sort of sticks to the pages."
"If you want to read at night it’ll light up too,” Draco informs her. “So you don’t have to mess around with your wand. I used to have one for reading under the covers."
"Did you?” She asks. “I never thought of you as that much of a nerd.” She grins at him as she says it, teasing.
“I assure you,” Draco says, straight-faced, “I was an enormous nerd. It was the only way of trying to keep up with Hermione Granger. It didn’t work of course, but Father would never have forgiven me if I hadn’t at least tried."
"I’ve hear you’re an Alchemy nerd these days. When you make your Elixir of Life you should let me have some.” She grins at him and curls up against her pillows. “But seriously. Tell me about Alchemy. I don’t know much about it."
"I’d hate to bore you,” he says.
“My Healer will be grateful if you get me to fall asleep,” she says. “You might even be allowed back if you do that. Go on.” She settles down in bed, facing him, and listens as he begins to talk. Occasionally she interrupts his monologue with questions, but mostly she just lies there and listens. His voice is smooth and comforting, and the animation in it, the way he comes to life while he’s talking about his studies… it’s comforting, and beautiful.
She closes her eyes while she listens, and as she falls irresistibly into sleep, her heart begins to fall too, slowly, beat by steady beat, in love with Draco Malfoy.
—
When Astoria gets back to work a few weeks later, the first thing she finds on her desk is a package and a note. She sits down, kicks her shoes off because they’re already making her legs feel like jelly, and tears open the parcel. Several packs of mundane Muggle chocolate buttons spill out onto her desk, and she frowns down at them for a moment before remembering the note.
She breaks the seal without looking at it, and slides out the single small square of parchment. There are three words written there, and two familiar, precise letters.
For the Muggles,
DM
Astoria gives a snort of laughter and buries her face in her hands. Her grin blossoms across her face, and joy floods through her. Any nerves she’d had about being back at work melt away in an instant.
She picks up her quill and a scrap of parchment, and scribbles a reply. Thankfully there’s no one else in the office yet to judge her as she skids barefoot across the tiled floor and runs off to the Owl Mail room downstairs.
That afternoon, a response comes sauntering into her office in the form of Draco himself. Today he’s wearing a green shirt and perfectly tailored grey trousers. When Astoria spots him, her first instinct is to hide in her cubicle. He looks too good to exist, and she’s supposed to be working. Work is impossible with Draco in the vicinity.
Unfortunately, he knows which desk is hers, and he comes over and leans in the entry-way. The way he’s draping himself against it tells her he knows exactly how good he looks. She makes sure to take her time finishing the document she’s reading before finally looking up at him.
“Oh, hello Draco. What are you doing here?"
He smirks down at her. "I had some business to do, but I thought I’d drop by while I’m in the building. How is it being back at the Ministry grindstone?"
"It was fine until you showed up,” Astoria says, deadpan. “I can’t believe you sent me chocolate buttons. Where did you get them from?”
“I stole them,” Draco replies, without a flicker, then he grins at her look of horror. “Of course I didn’t. My delinquent days are behind me. I ordered them from that shop on Diagon Alley that sells Muggle sweets.” He picks up one of the packets and inspects it. “Are they good? I’ve never tried them."
She steals it back from him, tears it open, and offers him a button. "Try one."
Draco pulls a disgusted face. "It’s a Mugglesweet…"
Astoria rolls her eyes. "It’s chocolate, Draco. Muggle chocolate is no different from Magical chocolate. It won’t kill you."
"It might,” he says, but when he catches her look he takes the button and eats it. There’s a thoughtful frown on his face as he chews and swallows, then he shakes his head. “Magical chocolate is better. I’m all for greater acceptance, but really. Magical chocolate is clearly far superior."
Astoria shrugs and throws a couple more buttons into her mouth. "All the more for me then.” She waves a hand at Draco, shooing him away. “Leave now, Malfoy. I have work to do."
He leans in closer. "What are you doing?"
She sets the buttons aside and opens her file. "Top secret and highly confidential work for the Ministry of Magic, which is none of your business."
He plucks the top sheet out of her file. "Artefact investigation? I thought this was your sister’s department."
Astoria snatches it back. "It is, but this one hurt a Muggle. It’s a pocket watch that ages you when you open it up to check the time. It was sold as an antique to this elderly Muggle woman, who… well…” she swallows. “She died. I’m trying to help her husband get compensation, but it was stolen before we could get a look at it, so I have no idea who it came from or who has it now. It could be with some other unsuspecting person as we speak.”
Draco reaches out a hand. “Do you have any information about the watch?” As he waits for her to find the right bit of parchment he unbuttons the cuffs on his shirt and absentmindedly rolls his sleeves up. Even th
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If you still want to take part, send us an ask saying whether you want to write a fic or make some art, along with any dates you can’t do. We’d love for everyone to take part, and you don’t need to have a popular blog or even have published anything before to sign up.
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Also, if you have any prompts or pairings you’d like to see, please send them in. Remember to make them back to Hogwarts themed and HPCC related. The more creative the better.
We look forward to hearing from you soon!
Thanks to everyone who’s signed up so far! We’re really excited to have you all taking part. If you’re thinking about signing up or aren’t sure, you still have a few days! Send us an ask with any questions and we’ll be happy to answer, or if you want to get involved let us know whether you want to write a fic or submit some art (fic writers, don’t forget to mention whether you’ll need a beta or not), by midnight BST on Monday the 21st of August. Also, if you’d like to help with betaing fics please drop us an ask. This event really is the more the merrier so get involved!
If you don’t want to submit any fic or art, maybe you’d like to help inspire our writers and artists by sending in prompts? All back to Hogwarts themed ideas are welcome, and if there’s a particular pairing you’d love to see let us know that too.
Much love to you all, and thanks for your enthusiasm so far.
Who doesn’t love a good holiday fic to get into the right mood for the festive season? We certainly do.
With the holidays drawing closer, we thought we’d share a compilation of Christmassy fics written by the collab’s authors.
Christmassy Drarry Fics (<5K)
All The Songs That Remind Me Of Youby@ladderofyears (T, 2,515)
Harry and Draco are driving to The Burrow on Christmas Eve when their children finally fall asleep. Listening to a soundtrack of Harry’s favourite songs, the two wizards pass an hour reminiscing about their Eighth Year at Hogwarts and remember just how they fell in love.
A New Family Traditionby@ladderofyears (T, 3,577)
Draco is pregnant and exhausted after a busy day at the Apothecary while Harry is excited and and full of Christmas cheer.
This is a small fic where they talk about their new baby, the Christmases of their childhoods and discover a new family tradition of their own.
Boyfriend In A Tangleby@ladderofyears (G, 341)
Draco manages to get himself tangled in Muggle Christmas lights.
Christ Had John, and I Have Harryby@aedwritesfic (G, 800)
After researching bonding ceremonies for his best friend’s wedding, Draco and Harry walk the grounds of Malfoy Manor.
DracoHarry100 Christmas Ficsby@ladderofyears (G-M, 24x100)
Drarry Advent 2020by@ladderofyears (G-M, 24x100)
‘For Harry’by@evaeleanor (T, 363)
On Christmas Eve Harry gets a surprising present.
How to Ruin Your Favourite Shoesby@drarrelie (G, 365)
Draco has been fighting the pull all day, but with only months left until his wedding to Astoria, it’s getting harder and harder to resist…
This work is part of a series of connected weekly drabbles written during 2020.
Just Another December Nightby@ladderofyears (T, 4,863)
A heartbroken Draco is finally cajoled into dating again by Pansy, but he gets the shock of his life when he sees who else is waiting at the restaurant.
Lovely Weather for a Sledge Ride (Together With You)by@drarrelie (T, 1,166)
The snow is glittering in the sun and the Eighth Years can’t resist heading out to savour it, revisions and essays be damned. Only question is, can Harry coax his roommate to join them?
Of Mistletoe and Malfoyby@jessica-doom (T, 1,370)
“I don’t have a scheme!”
Hermione ignored his protest, too busy apparently consulting with the Slytherins by way of cryptic eye contact. Daphne lifted one too-skinny eyebrow. Theo huffed a disbelieving noise which felt far more insulting than any actual insult could have. And Blaise… Well, Blaise was still actually trying to cram despite the distraction of the mystery mistletoe.
Photographic Evidenceby@janieohio (G, 1,536)
It’s Christmas, and Harry and Draco are newly engaged. But even now, Harry likes to snoop. When he finds some old pictures in Draco’s childhood bedroom, old vows of secrecy are endangered and some relationships will never be the same.
Potions N.E.W.T.s, Potions N.E.W.T.sby@eva-eleanore (G, 394)
Harry really hates studying for his N.E.W.T.s, especially for Potions.
Snow Falling on Usby@bottseveryflavorbeans (T, 4,652)
It is Christmas Eve, Draco has roped Harry into helping him break into Snape’s potions stores for an ingredient. Harry agrees because he owes Draco for all his help in potions. So invisibility cloak in hand, they head off to Snape’s stores, but things go wrong and they end up in detention on Christmas Eve.
The Birds And The Beesby@drarrymadhatterstuff (T, 1,107)
After walking in on 18-year-old Teddy and 17-year-old James being intimate, Harry and Draco decide to tackle the situation head-on. Their solution? A sex talk over breakfast. What could go wrong?
The Decorationby@ladderofyears (G, 273)
Harry finds a Christmas decoration that belonged to his mother.
Work Of Artby@ladderofyears (E, 1,782)
Quidditch player Harry Potter returns from his tour of America with an extra special Christmas gift for Draco Malfoy.
Christmassy Drarry Fics (+5K)
25 Days of Draco and Harryby@ladderofyears (M, 5,299)
A series of interconnected drabbles where Harry attempts to convince Draco to adore Christmas as much as he does. Draco, of course, just loves Harry.
A Series of Unfortunate Ghostsby@bottseveryflavorbeans (E, 25,650)
It’s sixth year and Draco Malfoy’s life is about to change thanks to some meddlesome ghosts who show him the path he is on is not the only path for him. Between their ghoulish advice and some deep soul searching, Draco regains some of the hope he lost.
Bill | Comfort & Joyby@jessica-doom (M, 5,461)
In a way it never had before, Christmas suddenly felt so entirely domestic to Draco. This likely was in direct result of the floral apron tied around his waist and the scents of laborious cooking and spice-scented candles in the air. But the feeling went even deeper than those surface signs. It was an intrinsic feeling he had of warmth and wholeness, so new and unlike anything else.
A feeling which was very nearly ruined when Harry brought an unexpected guest to Christmas Eve dinner.
Part 4 of Comfort in the Unexpected
Christmas Day with the Potter-Malfoysby@ladderofyears (T, 13,599)
It’s Christmas Day at the Potter-Malfoy house in Chelsea.
Join Draco Malfoy - thirty-six and already a father of four - as he copes with Harry’s inability to let their teenage daughter grow up, their squabbling, magical twin boys and the most theatrical toddler in England. Will he ever find the five little minutes that he so desperately needs?
Christmas Memoriesby@janieohio (E, ~30K, WIP)
It’s Draco’s first Christmas living with Harry, and okay, maybe it’s a little bit “extra”, but he’s Draco sodding Malfoy and if he wants to give Harry the best Christmas ever, it’s his right as his boyfriend. So strap on your Santa hat and hang on tight, because this is going to be a bumpy and, slightly ridiculous, sleigh ride.
One chapter posted each day for 25 days. Set in the That’s Life Together universe but can be read alone.
Cold Hands, Warm Heartby@janieohio (E, 5,953)
Draco should probably be freaking out. He’s stranded in a frozen wilderness with no wand, no supplies, and no way home. But he isn’t freaking out, and it’s totally NOT because he has his Auror partner with him. Not even a little bit. Or maybe a little bit. But probably not. Now, if only that little cabin they found had more than one bed.
Fred | He Lives in Youby@drarrelie (G, 6,931)
When the whirlwind that is Harry Potter approaches him to commission a portrait, Draco knows he has to say no. Too bad the annoyingly cheerful git won’t let him.
Or, how getting to know a deceased Weasley turns out to be a life-changing experience.
George | The Night When All Your Dreams Are Supposed To Come Trueby@ladderofyears (T, 6,543)
Arsenal are on the telly, so Harry and George settle in to enjoy the match. As they watch, Harry tells his best mate the story of what occurred on Christmas Eve, and how Draco Malfoy and he went from being friends to being something far more significant.
Of Christmas Shopping and Surprising Giftsby@eva-eleanore (T, 6,030)
Of course, Draco can help Harry with his Christmas shopping, no problem at all. He might be in love with the git, but feelings can be ignored.
Or not?
Santa Claus is Coming to Townby@drarrelie (G, 7,039)
Teddy knows exactly what to wish for when Uncle Harry takes him to meet Santa Claus. Now he’s just hoping Santa will be able to deliver.
Santa Claus is Comingby@drarrelie (E, 13,761)
Harry is mortified to learn what Teddy asked Santa Claus to bring him for Christmas. Only question is, will Santa be able to deliver?
The E-rated version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town.
That Christmasby@janieohio (T, 18,729)
25 years of Christmases in the life of Harry, Draco, and their friends and family.
25 drabbles, one per day, set in my That’s Life Togetheruniverse.
The Best Giftby@ladderofyears (E, 28,410)
Harry Potter’s whole world is upturned when he discovers that his close friend and colleague Draco Malfoy is pregnant by an unknown wizard.
This Time Next Yearby@janieohio (E, 5,310)
Their kids are friends, their friends are friends, and though Harry and Draco have floated through each other’s lives for decades, it’s never been like this. Tonight, at Neville and Pansy’s Christmas party, something clicks, and things will never be the same.
(This Will Be) An Everlasting Love by @drarrelie and @janieohio (T, 45,138)
Life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan. That’s what Draco’s mother always used to tell him, but Merlin, who could have predicted how right she would be?
A story about feisty dragons, loneliness, family, and friends — and finding love in places you least expect.
A Drarry cover of the romantic comedy While You Were Sleeping.Also available in podfic format, thanks to the amazing @melcarrianna
To Live, or Just Exist — That is the Questionby@drarrelie (E, 96,450)
Living with the Weasleys after the war turns out to be more challenging than Harry could ever imagine. So, when he finally finds some peace and quiet in Andromeda’s cottage, he’s not going to give it up easily. Not even if it means he’s going to have to live under the same roof as that annoying blond git. Now, if only he didn’t have to look so bloody gorgeous it might have been a little easier.
How Shakespeare, a crossword and a sleeping baby can turn enemies into friends, and maybe even friends into lovers.
Christmassy Non-Drarry Fics
Always Been a Morning Person (Scorbus)by@ladderofyears (M, 1,161)
Just an average December morning in the Potter-Malfoy house. Expect spilled cereal, list making and just a few lustful thoughts.
Better Late than Never(Scorbus)by@ladderofyears (T, 1,441)
Albus Severus Potter had never felt quite so humiliated in his life. He could no longer deny the truth. He had been stood up for a date. Scorpius Malfoy was supposed to have been here twenty-five minutes ago, which either made him very, very late indeed or meant he was not coming…
Albus Potter has finally got the date of his dreams, with fellow Ministry worker Scorpius Malfoy. But he’s late! Lets hope this Christmas tale has a happy ending.
Christmas in St. Mungo’s doesn’t have to be all bad (Lily Luna/Lorcan) by @ladderofyears (G, 614)
An early Christmas present arrives for Lorcan and Lily.
Christmas Lights in Hogsmeade (Scorbus, Hinny)by@ladderofyears (T, 1,344)
It is Christmastime in Hogsmeade. Ginny reflects on her past, her children and the happiness that Scorpius has brought to her son’s life.
I’d Rather Dress as An Elf (Drastoria)by@ladderofyears (G, 999)
Draco considers some of the different Christmases that he has experienced throughout his life.
It Happened One Night(Linny)by@aedwritesfic (E, 2,297)
Confessions and acts of love are made at the Burrow.
Have a Biscuit, Hooch(KittyHawk)by@aedwritesfic (E, 2,112)
Rolanda Hooch has a difficult time wrangling the Christmas tree. Minerva decides to reward her efforts.
Part 3 of Biscuits & Broomsticks
My Best Friend (My Heart)(Wolfstar)by@evaeleanor (T, 1,102)
The day of the annual Gryffindor Christmas Party poses one of the hardest challenges for Remus.
Take On Me(Dramionarry)by@janieohio (E, 8,644)
It’s nearly a decade after the war, plenty of time for the world to have moved on and Draco to have become friends with Harry and Hermione. But Draco wants to be more than friends, and it only takes a couple of Firewhisky-inspired dances and wine-laced kisses to find out that he’s not the only one ready to take their friendships to the next level.
Twinkling Lights(Destiel)by@jessica-doom (T, 3,308)
Castiel loves Christmas lights. Even on a freezing Christmas Eve, he won’t waste his opportunity to savor his favorite part of the holidays. What he doesn’t anticipate, however, is bonding with a stranger over his brilliant twinkling lights. Nor does he ever even hope for the comfort he ends up finding in that night and that man.
Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes make perfect Christmas Presents (Gen)by@ladderofyears (G, 1,399)
It’s the most wonderful time of the year! Take a sneaky look at the inner workings of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and learn about some of the fabulous products they sell.
But is it the most wonderful time of year for George?
Draco & Astoria Moodboard
Blaise: Maybe you should try to flirt with her
Draco: Oh ok, I’ll try
[Some time later]
Draco: I like your name
Astoria: Thanks, I got it for my birthday
Blaise and Ginny :*facepalm*
