679Well, this happened.
-Off Dreaming
ON THE OTHER SIDE
Chapter 18: Recovery and Renewal
Astoria lay sprawled out on the sand after a big Greek lunch. She liked the feeling of the salt water drying on her skin and not having to wear a uniform. She liked scrunching her toes and letting the sand rub against the bottom of her feet. She liked the quiet and tranquility and how the sea seemed to extend to a blue infinite. Daphne seemed to enjoy herself as well. She took up painting the glorious sunsets on the island and played the piano in the villa. She wrote letters to Millicent Bullstrode, Alastair and Victor (who had gone back to the Estate after a week), Theo, and even the Malfoys. Astoria could hardly be bothered, but at last wrote to Theo, Fiona, and Luna. They did not receive many letters in return, but one day a letter penned in Greek arrived at the villa.
"What does it say?" Daphne craned her head to see the letter.
"It is from our Prasino cousins."
"The Prasinos? But we haven't seen them in ten years!"
"Father probably kept ties with them."
"Well, what do they want?"
"They are inviting us to the ancestral Prasino Grasidi Estate for lunch."
"Well that's…"
"Yeah."
"Do you think they know? About the war? About Mum and Father?"
"I don't know. They must have heard about the war. And I have been in the Prophet."
"Do you think it's safe? We don't know where they stand."
"I think it should be safe. Greece is different, not as many old wizard families. I mean, you see that Mikros is a free elf."
"We haven't seen them in ten years, Tori."
"I told you to keep up with your Greek," Astoria admonished her sister.
"But it's so hard!" Daphne protested. "How did they even know we were here?"
"Probably through Mikros. Weren't you just saying the other day how you wanted more company?"
"English-speaking company, Tori. We can't stay here forever," she added softly.
"I don't want to go back yet," Astoria said quickly, shaking her head.
"I know, but you need to start thinking about when you will. June is almost over."
"I need more time."
"I know, Tori, I just want you to think about it," Daphne wrapped her arms around her sister. "You don't have to make a decision yet."
"I should write to the Prasinos and tell them we will come," Astoria said at last. Daphne pouted. "It's not too late to brush up on your Greek. Worst case scenario, just smile and nod." Daphne gave her a saccharine smile and flitted away. Astoria wrote back, changed into her swim suit, grabbed her hat and sunscreen, and walked out to the beach, ready to make sand angels.
"Oh look, Draco, a letter from Daphne! How thoughtful of her. Lucius, isn't that very kind of her? Oh, they are on holiday in Greece. How lovely it must be…" Narcissa grew pensive and quiet as she read the letter over tea. Draco and his father quickly glanced at each other and knew better than to say anything. How they would all like to be anywhere but stuck within the grim manor. Not even the beautiful summer they were having had erased the darkness in the house. "They will visit some of the old family, the Prasinos. And apparently island life is suiting Astoria well after all the tumult. Daphne says that we will hardly recognize her when they come to visit."
"They are visiting?" Draco nearly choked on his tea.
"I put in a new request, and the paperwork has gone through. Some company would be nice. The Greengrasses are a fine family and still quite well-respected in all circles. They would be a beneficial association. Don't you agree, Lucius?"
"I cannot disagree."
Narcissa raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at her husband.
"Then it is settled."
And so it was. Draco downed the rest of his tea and went to wash up in the kitchen.
It had been two weeks since Draco stayed up all night waiting for the newspaper. In the end, he decided that he was relieved that Little Greengrass got off. It was one less person he knew that ended up in Azkaban.
He had a long time to think about everything, whether he liked it or not. There were times when he had been unnecessarily cruel to Little Greengrass. He let the Carrows out during the Battle, and Alecto nearly killed her; that made him sick. In the end, they settled their accounts with each other, neither being in debt with the other anymore, and so those moments of nastiness made him feel a little guilty. She wasn't always nice to him, but she was always honest. Perhaps that was why he put so much weight on her words. That thought didn't sit too well with him either because he still didn't particularly enjoy her company. Even now he wouldn't be spared of her. His mother was relentless.
The sisters wore white sundresses and floppy hats to the Prasino Grasidi Estate. The letter said that it would be a very informal gathering and that most of the day would be spent outdoors. The estate was hidden in Meteora Park in central Greece and seen by Muggles as a dangerously crumbling monastery. To wizards, the house was in fact quite regal, perched atop one of the many shear rock cliffs that shot up from the ground out of nowhere. Between such rocks was green wooded valley, perfect for hiding the family's Winged Horses. The land was, simply put, magical.
The Greengrass sisters were generously greeted with hugs, kisses, and Greek exclamations on how much they had grown since the family last saw them. Introductions were made to the innumerable cousins, and the girls were quickly ushered to a pavilion for lunch, where grandmother-types continuously piled food on their plates and pinched their cheeks. The meal was loud, conversations spilling across the table and hands flourishing to the person they wished to speak to. It was a little overwhelming, but there was that unmistakable Greengrass grace. It was the sort of grace that charmed people to Thomas, Calliope, and Daphne within minutes; it assumed familiarity and intimacy with the added touch of a sharp attention to detail. It was the sort of grace to capture the attention of a room without bending over backward. Astoria's grace rarely showed up in social situations, and so she looked rigid compared to Daphne, who was doing a very good job of smiling and nodding. However, Astoria did most of the talking when she was able to get in a word edgewise.
At last during dessert, an old man who everyone called Papous pulled Astoria aside. She knew that he wasn't her actual grandfather, but he seemed to treat all the younger cousins as his grandchildren. He asked her if she wanted to see the horses, and Astoria eagerly nodded. He told her to hold onto his arm, and they Disapparated down to the basin floor. It was cool in the shadows, but Astoria felt safe surrounded by the trees. Papous gave a long and lilting whistle, then smoothed Astoria's hair. The gesture was comforting and made her miss her father. Then in the distance, she heard a whinny.
"How many are there?" she asked in Greek.
"Eighteen, not including the foals. This year we got five babies. It was a good year for the herd. Ah, there is one of the little ones," Papous pointed at a spindly-legged horse. "That one is particularly precocious. Do you know what breed they are?"
"Granian. They are all grey."
"Yes, grey and beautiful and fast. It is a shame that your family has lost theirs."
"We still have the barn."
"You still have the Prasino blood. You look so much like your father."
The little foal nuzzled Astoria's shoulder. The protective mother unfurled her wings, ready to defend her baby, but Astoria made a tutting noise and held out her hands. The mare studied her for a few seconds, then slowly curled her wings back in. She took a step forward and reached out to Astoria, gently touching Astoria's chest with a soft muzzle. Astoria stroked the grey fur, feeling calm.
"You have the touch," said Papous. "Perhaps there is hope for your empty barn." Astoria smiled at the thought. "Have your parents been found yet?" Astoria's smile fell.
"How did you know?"
"Thomas always wrote to his Papous. But it has been almost a year since he last did. We have heard of your war. We sent an investigator to England, who discovered that you had been named sole heir of the estate. We knew what that meant. And then we learned of your trial." Astoria hardly knew what to say, but felt the need to redeem herself to Papous. However, he spoke again, surprising Astoria:
"We are so happy to have you back, my granddaughter. We feared we had lost you forever." Astoria looked up at Papous, who was teary-eyed. "My blood is your blood, and your blood is my blood," he covered Astoria's hands in his rough palms. "My heart is broken by the loss of Thomas and Calliope. But astéri, my star, my Astoria, you are still most loved. I would paint the sky black for you every night so that you could shine a little brighter."
Astoria could feel her chest tighten.
"Papous," she began, but could not continue. The old man wrapped his arms around her small frame and held her, gently smoothing her hair as she calmed herself.
"You are never alone, my astéri. You always have your family here. How do you like your island?"
"It is paradise," Astoria responded, quickly pushing away her tears. "Papous," she began carefully, "do you remember my uncle, Alastair?"
"Yes, I do."
"You should know that he is part of the family again." Astoria held her breath.
"Does he love you and care for you?"
"Yes."
"Then that is all. My star, are you ready to rejoin the family?"
"Can I take this little one with me?" Astoria joked, wrapping her arms around the neck of the little foal nibbling her shirt sleeve. Papous laughed.
"Perhaps when you have finished school. We have been calling her Leto…"
Lunch turned into dinner, and it was well past midnight when Astoria and Daphne Disapparated back to the island villa.
"Come back to us, often," Papous said to Astoria as he hugged her goodbye. "And when you find Calliope and Thomas… I want to say goodbye to them."
Upon arriving to the villa, both girls collapsed on the nearest sofa.
"Oh, that was lovely, but I am so full!" Daphne exclaimed.
"And to think that you did not want to go."
"Did Papous show you the horses?"
"Yes, he did. They are so beautiful, Daph."
"And did he know about the war?" Daphne asked carefully. Astoria nodded.
"The family hired a private investigator. They know as much as the public knows."
"And what do the Prasinos think of it? They mentioned nothing of the war to me. Or at least I think…"
"I wish you could have seen Papous, Daph. He—they—love us so much. They would do anything for us. We must visit them more often. They are our family."
"It did feel like home, didn't it?" Daphne said softly. "For awhile, I thought we had lost our family. And I still miss Mum and Father so much, but we are hardly short of love."
"We can go back home in a week," Astoria suddenly decided.
"Will you be ready by then?"
"Yes, I think I will. I haven't felt this whole in a long time."
"I'm glad, Tori," Daphne hugged her sister. "Tori?"
"Yes?"
"I was thinking…"
"You were…?"
"Could we ask Alastair and Victor to stay at the estate for awhile? You will be off at school, and I don't really want to be alone…"
"Of course, Daph. I think that is a very good idea. I don't want you to be alone either. You know you can come back here without me, right? I will be very jealous, but it is yours too."
"Yes, I know," Daphne laughed. "And I also had another idea."
"Yes?"
"Didn't you think that Filos was cute?"
Astoria thought of the meek, yet affectionate and elegant Cretan hound whose big ears followed the rapid conversation of his family.
"He was a lovely dog."
"And you like dogs."
"Yes, I do."
"Really, you like all animals."
"Also true. What is your point, Daphne?"
"Couldwegetadog?" Daphne blurt out in one word. Astoria stared at her sister and then blinked. "I'll take care of it while you are away, and it'll keep me safe. And when you're home, you can take it on walks, and it can keep your toes warm when you read, and…"
"Daphne."
"It could be brilliant, Tori!"
"Daphne!"
"Yes?"
"Why would we get one dog when we could get two?" Astoria asked. Daphne then released a shriek that Mikros would complain about for the next week.
Theodore Nott was in Draco's sitting room. Auror Owens was extremely suspicious and protested the visitation rights of the Nott son—after all, Owens had an unfortunate run-in with Nott Senior. The Auror situated himself right behind Nott, seeming to refuse to let him out of sight.
"If it is any consolation, my father and I did not get on very well either," Nott drawled to the Auror. "How are you, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Well enough. Firewhiskey?"
"Yes, thank you. And Mrs. Malfoy, how are you?"
"Very happy to know Draco has a friend."
Draco knew his mother was a bit worried about Theodore Nott visiting the Manor. Public opinion on Nott seemed to be divided: they either loved him for killing Alecto Carrow and fighting for Potter or hated him for all he did before the Battle. Nott, Draco, and Little Greengrass were the favorites of the Carrows. In the end, Narcissa realized that Draco lacked friends and the prospect of the Greengrass girls visiting didn't thrill him as much as she had hoped.
Frankly, Draco was quite surprised when Nott Owled him. Granted, the Aurors didn't let him see the letter, but they read it to Draco. It was just vague enough to peak Draco's interest. Really, it didn't talk about much of anything at all. Draco didn't know if he considered Nott a friend, but he did respect Nott and admired the workings of his mind. If Nott reached out to him, he probably had a reason. And Draco, eager for company that didn't have green eyes, took the bait.
Nott still looked a bit like shit. His hair had gotten longer, and the bags under his eyes had not disappeared. It had been almost two months since the Battle, but for Nott it looked like he was still in the middle of it. He drank his Firewhiskey easily, too easily. But there he sat, with all his Pureblood manners and posture.
"It is very kind of you to allow me to visit you in your home, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Really, The Heights is a little big for one person…" Nott trailed off, and once again, Draco was forced to inwardly admit that Nott was fucking brilliant. With two sentences, he had garnered the sympathy and respect of his parents.
"Draco, did you enjoy the books I sent you?" Suddenly, they were on first-name basis.
"I enjoyed The Great Gatsby in particular, Theo," Draco smoothly replied.
"I thought you would. I'll send you something similar in the next few days. I have something in mind."
"So, the youngest Greengrass got off. I believe you were quite close," Lucius began.
"We are quite close. I was not allowed in the courtroom—witnesses and family only—but I was very much relieved when I heard the verdict. I sincerely hope Astoria's troubles end soon. She wrote to me recently, from Greece. Apparently, her family owns an island, and she didn't find out until she was sorting the family finances. She will return to England in a few days, and then it looks like the Greengrass girls are adopting two dogs."
"We have never been a dog family," mused Narcissa. "For awhile, I did have a cat."
"Would you consider getting a dog, Nott?" asked Lucius.
"I have always admired the Shetland Sheepdogs for their nice coat and intelligence, but one would have to spend significant time training the dog. And it would only be fair to the creature if it had sheep to herd."
The conversation continued, both banal and pleasant, for awhile longer until Theo asked if he and Draco could take a walk around the grounds. Draco's parents excused the young men, and they were at last able to talk freely.
"You've been keeping up with the papers, I assume?"
"That is the only way to get information about the world outside this gate," Draco grumbled. Theo searched for words and found only one.
"Blaise."
"I read."
"Astoria said that he was himself during the trial. A little too blasé for the judges' liking—his moments of remorse were not quite enough to redeem himself. It was a quick trial, and it ended horribly messy… the Aurors had to drag him away." Draco swallowed heavily, trying not to imagine the scene. "I know he was your best mate. I do think he was punished too harshly. But when he gets out, he is going to need people, people who were there, and know, and understand. We are on the same side, Draco."
"Why are you doing this?"
"I think everyone is making amends now in any way that they can, don't you think? Besides, if your mother is like any Pureblood mother, she'll be trying to set you up with Daphne, and we both know that will never, ever happen—"
Draco looked insulted. He could get Daphne, if he wanted.
"—because she is more of Blaise's type, anyway," Theo quickly explained. "And so what other company will you have? Astoria? I know you don't like her, and we can't both indefinitely only have the Greengrass girls as our friends. Witches," he said, bewildered, causing Draco to snort. The Firewhiskey appeared to loosen something in Theo; suddenly the idea of being friends with Theodore Nott didn't seem too far-fetched. "How has it been? Really."
"It is strange not having a wand, that is certain," Draco began. It felt cathartic to tell someone how it was. The words came more easily as they circled the property, doing laps.
"Did you really like the books?"
"It is something to pass the time. Most of the books in our library have been confiscated anyway. Some of the references were a little beyond me, though."
"That is why I figured you would like Gatsby."
"Who was Fitzgerald?"
"A well-known American Muggle novelist, most prolific in the 1920s during the aftermath of the First Muggle World War. They called the writers of that era 'The Lost Generation' because they had a certain disillusionment after the horrors of the war. There is another writer in that group who I think you will like, one Ernest Hemingway. If you want, I can send you some of his novels and stories."
"Where do you find these books?"
"At the local Muggle book shop in town," Theo shrugged. Draco looked at him incredulously. "It really isn't much different than Flourish and Blotts, other than that the books are extremely tame. They aren't so different from us, you know."
Draco was quiet for a moment. Then he said honestly:
"So I am learning."
"And so you said you have plenty of room for the dogs?" asked the Muggle. Astoria and Daphne sat in the pet adoption office of the local animal shelter, trying very hard to not look suspicious in their Muggle clothing.
"Oh yes, we have a very large house and a couple of acres of land, as well as a lake. Well, it's really more like a pond, but safe to swim in. Would that be a problem?"
"No, it shouldn't be. Have you had dogs before?"
"No, but there is a first time for everything," Daphne smiled.
"We expect the dogs you were interested in adopting to grow to be quite big. They will need proper training and socialization."
"We have done a lot of research about dog training and are willing to seek out help if it comes to it. But I doubt that will be the case," interjected Astoria. "You saw how within minutes I had showed them that I was in charge."
"And how old are you both?"
"Well, I am 18 and my sister is 16," said Daphne. The woman frowned.
"You must be at least 18 to adopt a dog, but we don't normally adopt dogs to young adults, as they are usually not ready for the responsibility. Are you going off to university or working?"
"No," said Daphne cheerily. "I'm done with school and will be at home all the time to be with the dogs." The woman looked over Daphne once. It was a look Astoria knew. Privileged trust fund witches/bitches.
"And where are your parents?"
"Well, they actually passed away in a horrid car accident this past spring," Daphne began. "It was… heartbreaking. Our uncle has come to live with us during this difficult time, but really the house feels terribly empty. It's like there is this giant, gaping hole in our hearts that can only be filled with the unconditional love of a dog," Daphne dramatically dabbed her eyes with a tissue. "Or two dogs. Preferably two. To become part of our family in a big house with lots of land where they can run to their hearts content while being safe and loved and pampered like the little princes that they are. We need those dogs as much as they need us," she embraced the pet adoption agent's hand. "We are trying to start again, and those dogs are too. I think we were just meant to be."
"Could you… could you possibly phone your uncle and have him come to the center and confirm some of the details?" asked the agent, obviously moved by Daphne's heartfelt speech.
"Um, yes, we could, uh, phone him." Astoria's mind went back to Muggle Studies class. Was that the talking box…?
"Okay, and I'll need some IDs from you all."
"Right, yes. Right."
"Here, you can use our phones," the agent expectantly pushed the talking box to the girls, who stared at it. Astoria didn't know what to do until Daphne suddenly began to bawl.
"I'm sorry, this is just such a difficult time," she blubbered. "I was just thinking of our mum and papa and how much they would have loved for us to get a dog, and it just brings back so many emotions and memories…"
"Could we possibly have a moment alone?" Astoria asked. The agent pulled a sympathetic face.
"Of course, take your time. Just poke your head out of the office when you have made the call and you are ready. I am so sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," Daphne sniveled. The door clicked shut behind them, and Daphne's face immediately changed.
"Shit, Astoria, what are we going to do? We don't have Muggle identification!"
"Sometimes, you are bloody brilliant, Daph."
"I know, I surprised myself a little there," she placed a hand over her heart. "I didn't think I would have to cry twice. But what are we going to do now?"
"We need Victor."
"How are we going to get in touch with him?"
"Does this place have any owls?"
"I thought I saw a parrot."
"Parrots are the worst messenger birds ever. Just Disapparate back to the house, get Victor and Alastair and our IDs, and you Apparate here and have them Apparate somewhere nearby and walk in the door."
"But what if someone comes in or sees?"
"They won't. I will make sure of that," Astoria began closing curtains and making the room soundproof with a swish of her wand. "Just get back quickly, there is only so long I can stall. See if Victor has some sort of Muggle identification, and use the Doubling Charm to duplicate it, and then modify it with our details."
"I may be a fair actress, but I will never be as bloody brilliant as you, Tori."
"Oh, go home so we can get our dogs!"
And with a pop she was gone.
Draco watched the smoke curl from the cigarette as he sat on the front steps of the house with McMorrow and listened to the crickets.
"Owens was in a right mood about Nott coming to the Manor."
"Did he say something?"
McMorrow gave him a look to suggest that Owens said nothing much of anything, ever.
"Are you and Nott friends?"
"I did not think we were until he showed up."
"Well, I think that is a sign of a true friend—someone who shows up. The Greengrasses are coming tomorrow."
"Really. So soon?"
"It has been a week since Nott was here," McMorrow noted. The Ministry limited their house visits to once per week. Otherwise it defeated the purpose of house arrest, apparently. "Are you looking forward to it?"
"Not really," Draco responded, causing McMorrow to raise a brow. "Why does everyone give me that look?"
"Because you have history with the younger girl and the older girl is a lovely bird."
"Please don't encourage my mum," groaned Draco before taking another drag of his cig. "It will only end in disappointment."
"You think?"
"Would you allow your daughter near me, even with a ten-foot pole?" Draco asked. McMorrow didn't respond. "I am not exactly up for the running of 'most eligible wizard.'"
"You just turned eighteen," McMorrow began. "Your life isn't over, Draco."
"Do not trivialize the decisions and errors that I made. I am not being a melodramatic teenager when I say that romance, let alone friendship, is hard to come by."
"I wasn't doing that, and no, you aren't being a melodramatic teenager. But don't complain when people still show up despite your poor decisions and errors," McMorrow put out his cigarette, pushed himself up, and dusted off his hands. "True friends show up."
Draco sat and finished his cigarette, trying very hard to find a loophole in McMorrow's logic. He ran out of ideas long before he crushed the cigarette in the ground and covered it with soil so his mother wouldn't find it.
"I don't want to go to the Malfoys. Why would we go and see anyone when we have fluffy puppies at home? Yes, you two are the cutest, and I love you forever," Astoria crooned to the husky-German shepherd mix puppies.
"It's like meeting a completely new person," Victor mused, watching Astoria lavish the dogs with attention. Alastair had also taken to the dogs, and seeing the two most uptight people Victor knew crumble to bits for puppy love made Victor chuckle.
Astoria had always been good with animals. Her quiet presence made even the shyest pets approach her. Most people had assumed that she would prefer cats for their hushed and independent nature, but Astoria was truly a sucker for dogs. She loved how dogs loved, whole-heartedly and unconditionally. She liked how everything was new and exciting in the eyes of a puppy, how canines could take pleasure in the simplest of things and never get sick of it. She had always wanted a dog, but her parents had never been keen on the idea. And now, the Greengrass family had two dogs.
Castor and Pollux had the built and coloring of a small German Shepherd with the fluffy coat and distinct blue eyes of a husky. Castor had a lighter brown and tan coat while Pollux, his brother, had a blacker coat with splotches of tan and white. Together, the pups were quite happy to roll around and play with each other before turning to the humans for belly rubs. They were taken on twice daily walks around the estate grounds, and Astoria had begun house breaking the dogs and working on some basic commands. They were intelligent, eager to work and please, but they were still curious and mischievous. Alastair had already lost a pair of shoes to Castor and Pollux's puppy teeth. Still, he forgave them quite easily.
When Astoria and Daphne met the puppies at the dog shelter, it was a case of love at first sight. And when they learned the history of the dogs, they knew it was meant to be. Castor and Pollux's mother died during a flood. She labouredly swam to carry all the puppies to safety on high ground, but she was not able to pull herself out of the waters. She was very sick by the time she and her puppies were reached by animal rescue, and the shelter decided the most humane thing was to put her down. At the time, her puppies were barely old enough to be weaned off of their mother. Castor and Pollux spent most of their lives in the animal shelter, waiting for a family to take them home. The shelter had been hoping that they would be adopted together, but knew that finding a home for one large, strong, high-energy working dog would be difficult enough, let alone a home for two. When Astoria and Daphne came along, despite the suspicions of the animal adoption agent, it was nothing short of a miracle.
"But could you at least give them normal names?" Victor asked when the puppies were introduced.
"They are names from Greek mythology. That is perfectly normal," explained Astoria, as it were the most ordinary thing in the world. Really, she did not know how her father and Alastair ended up with such mundane names, when the rest of the family—and many other Pureblood families—were practically constellations. Besides, she liked the story behind the names: Castor and Pollux were half-brothers. When one died, the other gave his immortality so that they might stay together.
Astoria wanted to stay home with the dogs all of the time. It was the beginning of July, and there were still a little less than two months before school was back in session, but that amount of time seemed dreadfully short. The dogs would grow so much while she was away, and that made Astoria terribly sad.
Greece had helped Astoria recover. She felt well rested, less anxious, and had more energy. Still, every once in awhile she would get nightmares. It happened only a few times in Greece, but at night she couldn't push away the fears lingering in the back of her mind. The night before she was to visit the Malfoys, she woke up screaming and she could hear the dogs howling downstairs. The commotion of Astoria screaming and the dogs acting up caused Alastair to be convinced that there was an intruder in the house, but when he got Castor and Pollux, they ran straight out of their kennels and pounced on Astoria, showering her with kisses while whining. Astoria stroked their fur as she evened her breathing and cleared the images of her nightmare from her head. Of course, there was no intruder in the house; the dogs were only trying to protect their master from her own subconscience.
In addition to the dogs, she had other better things to do than see The Great Git's face. Theo had been worrying her. He would seemingly disappear for days at a time, then suddenly respond to her letters. He would make a haggard appearance without offering any explanation for his silence, and then return to his solitary ways. She knew he was still grieving, but she also suspected he was heavily drinking. She was surprised when he admitted to visiting the Malfoy Manor.
"But… why?" Astoria wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"He is not as much of a git as you make him out to be, Astoria."
"I think I know the full extent of his git tendencies. Shall I remind you who released the Carrows?"
"He is changing, like all of us, Astoria," Theo explained with a flourish of his hand. "You forget that Draco Malfoy used to be the prince of his father's society, and now he is a stain on a House Elf's frock. It is going to take a bit of time. Besides, he is not as much of a git to everyone else, mostly just you." Astoria grumpily crossed her arms, causing Theo to sigh and continue: "He is not all bad. You and him simply clash."
"Oh, and now you are an authority on the character of Draco Malfoy?"
"I have him more figured out than you do, that is certain."
"Since when are you two friends?"
"Astoria," Theo laughed at her, "let it go. You can't be my only friend in the world forever. And you aren't going to get any closer to figuring out Draco Malfoy by despising him."
"I do not care to 'figure him out,'" she snootily retorted.
"Hippogriff shit," Theo called her bluff. Castor and Pullox barked in agreement. The dogs were initially very wary of Theo—after all, his Patronus was that of a wolf—but they soon sensed that Theo was on their side as a protector of their green-eyed human. And he gave excellent belly rubs. "Well, it is time that you are off to tea with the Malfoys. Have fun!" he flashed his teeth at her sardonically. Astoria shook her head disapprovingly, but he had already Disapparated.
"Come on, Astoria, it's time to go!"
"Why?" Astoria whined to herself, and then went to find her shoes. If she was going to do this, she had better get it over as quickly as possible.
Meanwhile, Draco's mother was panicking. She had spent all morning cleaning the house, which meant that Draco and even Lucius got roped into helping. At last she shooed them off to shower before the Greengrasses arrived, and Draco got a chance to breathe. Two months after the Battle, the skin on his left forearm was almost completely healed. It would always have a silver tinge to it and a strange elasticity, but at least it was much stronger now than when he first arrived back at the Manor. After he had showered and changed, he walked downstairs, only to have his clothes criticized by his mother.
"We aren't going to a funeral, Draco. For Merlin's sake, put on a different shirt."
"Yes, Mother," he rolled his eyes once he had turned around and went to change. He changed his black shirt to a light blue shirt, which apparently appeased Narcissa. Lucius strolled into the sitting room wearing all black.
"Your attitudes are abhorrent," she shook her head at the men in her family before going to check on the tea.
"Was it something I said?" Lucius sardonically drawled before pouring himself some Firewhiskey. Draco sniggered. "Oh, keep laughing, my son. You are the one walking a fine line. If you aren't nice to Daphne, your mother will be terribly disappointed, and I just may have to tell her about your late-night smoking sessions with McMorrow."
"How did you…?" Draco sputtered. Lucius gave him a derisive sneer.
"I am your father, and you are a moody teenager. It's hardly original."
"Would you prefer I picked up a different habit?" Draco shot back.
"No, smoking is absolutely fine. Anything worse and I would really have to tell your mother," he languidly threatened before taking a long sip of Firewhiskey. Draco glared at his father, and his mother came fluttering in.
"Wipe that look off your face, Draco. And both of you, behave. Honestly, I have no idea what has gotten into you two today."
"It has always been my dream to spend the afternoon with two teenage girls talking about the latest in witch's fashion and beauty trends," Lucius retorted, earning a lethal glare from Narcissa. It was early in the day, and Draco could tell that his father had already had an abundance of Firewhiskey. He would never dare to talk back to Narcissa like that, otherwise.
"Please be decent," she said softly, sternly looking up at her husband through her eyelashes. There was an edge of desperation in her voice, but it was clearly an order to be obeyed. Lucius said nothing, but seemed to relent.
Just then, the sitting room door opened up. Daphne was at the tail end of saying something reassuring to her sister. Little Greengrass did not seemed pleased, wringing her hand near her wand pocket inside her cloak. Draco was finally starting to get out of the habit of doing that and knew how naked one felt without a wand. Daphne immediately smiled sunshine and rainbows, all sleek blonde hair and pearly whites. She looked like there was no where she would rather be.
"Mrs. Malfoy, thank you so much for inviting us in your home. A visit has been long overdue," her honey voice dripped. Daphne was radiant, anyone could see that, but he found his eyes lingering on Little Greengrass. Daphne was right: he hardly recognized her.
Her eyes were the same, that lime green he remembered peering into his face as she cauterized the wound on his arm. Her face had filled out slightly, making her not seem as gaunt, but she still had high and sharp cheekbones. Her skin had tanned, making her pale eyes stand out even more. Her hair was finally pulled out of her eyes, allowing the full strength of her calculated gaze, seeming to decide how civil she wanted to be. She looked older, but not in a bad way. At her worst at Hogwarts, she looked like a little girl with old eyes. At least now she looked more in synch, as if time had healed the worst wounds. She had freckles—he didn't know how he hadn't quite noticed that before.
"Hello Draco," Daphne made her rounds to him. "I told you that you wouldn't recognize her." Draco kissed Daphne's hand, the typical formal gesture, before his eyes returned to Little Greengrass.
"Hello Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy," was her clipped greeting. Then, she turned to Draco out of feigned politeness. "Hello."
"So, you are the Greengrass heir," drawled Lucius. "How was your island?"
"A true paradise."
"And your trip to the Prasino Grasidi Estate?"
"Welcoming, boisterous, and enchanting," were her carefully chosen adjectives as Lucius stepped toward her, like a lion nearing its prey.
"And the new dogs?"
"Two German Shepherd Husky mixes. Brothers, equal parts intelligent and loving."
"And your uncle?"
"In our home and family, where he has always belonged," was her smooth reply. She met Lucius' icy gaze steadily, but she might as well have bared her teeth back at the predator. Lucius studied her for a minute, then smirked.
"Firewhiskey? No, you are still too young. Miss Daphne, would you care for something other than tea? Perhaps some wine, or something stronger?"
"Oh no, tea would be lovely. Two sugars and some cream."
"And Miss Greengrass?" Lucius turned to Little Greengrass. The title seemed to catch her off guard.
"Tea, black, with a lemon." Then, as an afterthought, "Thank you."
"Well, Astoria is leaving out most of the details," Daphne brightly smiled as they settled on the sofa.
"You are much more captivating when telling stories than I am," Little Greengrass sipped her tea, content to slip back into the shadows. Draco turned to look at his father, who eyed the Little Greengrass with the same calculated gaze as she gave Draco when she walked into the room. The conversation settled once Daphne took the lead, with the blonde and his mother navigating the social niceties for the rest of the less inept (or inclined) people in the room. Daphne walked them through Astoria's impromptu decision to leave England for Greece right after her trial and practically drew an architect's floor plan of the villa on the island. She painted every sunset in word and brushstroke (the collection now hung in the breakfast sunroom of the Greengrass Estate) and swept her listeners to the dynamic coast of the island. They feasted on her mouth-watering descriptions of the Greek food and their welcome to the Prasino Grasidi ancestral estate.
"Oh, but Astoria got to see the Winged Horses. Do tell, Tori," Daphne finally redirected the conversation back to her sister after a half hour. The brunette looked at her over her tea cup. Daphne gave her sister an expectant gaze.
"Well, as Daphne said, the ancestral estate is in Meteora National Park, which is geologically stunning. The valleys are heavily wooded and very green, yet out of nowhere sheer rock walls shoot up. The house is located at the top of one of these natural towers, and the horses are kept in the valley below. They are Granians, which you would recognize as the grey horses used for racing. They are larger than most draft horses, yet they have the built of a racing horse, long legs and high withers. Their wings are truly magnificent. Their feathers make lovely quills, as you know, because they are extremely resilient and retain their pure color. One always wishes to touch their wings, but Granians tend to be very finicky about that."
"Were you able to approach them?" Narcissa politely asked.
"Yes, I did spend some time among the herd, despite their general protective nature. Granians are not proud like hippogriffs, nor do they respond to a master the way a dog does. One has to approach them as an equal, but a harmless equal. My grandfather's herd—well, he is not my grandfather, but he is like one to all of the family—anyway, the herd has the same weaknesses as most Granian horses: they like peppermint candies and a good scratch under the chin. They… they seemed to recognize something in me and accept me. Granians are a little peculiar like that. When a person acquires a Granian, it is much like getting a wand. The most successful relationships are when the horse chooses the witch or wizard. In a typical sale, each potential buyer proves that they can supply the asking price; but the buyer who takes the horse home is the one who can first ride it. The offspring follow a herd mentality: if their elders accept an owner, they accept that owner until they are sold. But Granians imprint very, very strongly to their owners. When a young Granian imprints on a new owner or a rider, it is a very magical connection, I have read. Almost as if one could read the other's thoughts."
Draco had never heard Little Greengrass say so much at once. At least so much in a monologue that didn't completely annoy him.
"Astoria is excellent with animals and knows so much about them. And yet Care of Magical Creatures isn't her favorite subject!" Daphne added.
"And why not?" Lucius asked.
"It is interesting, but not very complex. I prefer Charms. Many say that it is a softer subject than, say, Transfiguration, because it has a more personal rather than formulaic approach, but I find that this element of creativity makes Charms a more nuanced branch of magic. Would you care to differ, Mr. Malfoy?" Astoria raised a brow upon seeing a change in Lucius' expression.
"I always was attracted to the art of dueling. The strategy, the quickness, and the grace of a good Dueler are the same as a good politician. One must be sharp, one must be a few steps ahead, and one must be precise and poised. It is not simply skill, but refinement. Draco, on the other hand, has always held a fondness for Potions."
"Well, he has always been so adept at following instructions," Little Greengrass looked at Draco, unreadable. The subtext made the skin on his left forearm crawl.
"Oh, I completely forgot to show you the pictures of Castor and Pollux! The dogs, I mean," Daphne explained, reaching into her purse and breaking the silence. "There's quite a funny story behind how we got them…"
"I doubt the Malfoys will be very interested in how we adopted mixed-blood dogs from a Muggle animal shelter," Astoria quipped.
A moment of tension hung in the room. Draco hoped that his parents didn't grasp the implication. Little Greengrass had apparently decided that she didn't want to be that civil, after all.
"Astoria, are you feeling alright? You look pale," Daphne said, full of concern. "How about you go outside and get some fresh air?"
"That sounds good, thank you for your concern, Daphne," Little Greengrass eagerly stood up. Lucius and Draco rose, but Narcissa remained seated.
"You can show yourself out?" Lucius asked her. Draco watched Little Greengrass' knuckles turn white as she gripped the sofa.
"It is the same way I came in," was her quiet reply before her dark hair swished behind her.
"Please excuse her," Daphne apologized for her sister. "She struggled when she had to give up her wand at the door. Of course, we recognize that it is merely a formality, but it gave her great anxiety."
"Draco, sit down," Narcissa ordered her son. He hadn't realized that everyone had sat. When Little Greengrass first walked in and he saw how normal and healthy she looked, he was a bit jealous. She had undoubtedly been sleeping through the night and eating well, and her sister's explanation of their time in Greece was so idyllic it almost made him angry. Clearly, Astoria Greengrass had not forgiven him. And clearly, he cared.
With a trembling outstretched hand and angry eyes, Astoria silently demanded to have her wand back upon leaving the front gate of the Malfoy Manor. She felt like something in her had snapped, although she had no idea why. As she slowly regained her composure and loosened the tightness in her chest, she analyzed the emotions that made her blatantly lash out against the Malfoys.
She didn't want to go to the Malfoy Manor in the first place. That put her in a bad mood. She hated the social niceties and the banal small talk, and she definitely didn't want to do that song and dance with the Malfoys. She didn't want to see The Great Git and his stupid face. She hadn't forgiven him. Because of him, Alecto Carrow hurt people. She hurt Astoria. And because she hurt Astoria, Theo had to kill her. And because Theo was busy protecting Astoria, Tracey died. And because Tracey died, Fiona lost her sister. And it was all Malfoy's fault.
(But maybe it was a little more complicated than that. But maybe she didn't care.)
Then she had to give up her wand. That didn't help. While in Greece she finally managed to sleep without her wand tucked under her pillow, at the Estate she had gotten back into the habit. She had felt powerless before—laying on the dungeon floor screaming with Alecto Carrow above her came to mind—and she never wanted to feel that way again. No one mentioned anything about giving up her wand until she got there. Perhaps she would have handled it better if she had received a warning. She and Daphne argued about it for five minutes at the gate while the Auror silently watched. Daphne lectured her on being a good guest, but Astoria would have none of it. Finally, the Auror spoke.
"How much would you like see Draco Malfoy receive a powerful Bat Bogey Hex directly to his pretty face?"
"I would pay good money to see that," Astoria smirked.
"And that is why I need your wand," the Auror replied, causing Astoria to scowl. Daphne thought Astoria's reaction was pretty funny, but as they walked through the grounds to the Malfoy Manor door, Daphne realized that her sister was still upset.
"Really, Astoria, it's just for an hour. There are Aurors outside. We're safe. The fight is over."
"Is it? Because Alecto Fucking Carrow is still in my dreams, and that git was the one who let her escape," Astoria protested.
"This visit is for you, Astoria," said Daphne. "It's not for the Malfoys. You need to forgive Draco and move on. Otherwise you will never recover."
Astoria was very tempted to ask Daphne if she had forgiven Blaise, but just then, they entered the Malfoy's sitting room and she shut her mouth. Daphne knew how to play the game of being a charming guest and went over to greet people. Astoria stood behind her sister, not particularly sure what to do. She couldn't feign familiarity with people she hardly knew—or worse, people she didn't even like.
But there The Great Git was, looking at her like he had never looked at her before. She met his gaze. She knew that she had changed, and she wanted him to know it. She was better (almost). At least she looked a lot better, and her life was going far better than Malfoy's. She wanted him to feel jealous. She wanted him to feel guilty and small and broken compared to her. And she was almost a bit surprised when it looked like he did feel all of those things and more.
Lucius Malfoy began his interrogation. He was trying to intimidate her, she knew that. Lucius Malfoy saw her as an opportunity; after all, Astoria was an heir, and a wealthy one at that. And despite how far the man had fallen, he still thought that he could toy with the sixteen year old girl in front of him. His questions were those that the heads of the house would swap, fishing for information and leverage. Astoria would give him none, not even when the man asked about Uncle Alastair. She kept her responses short and met Lucius Malfoy's cat-ate-the-canary smirk with a neutral expression. She knew better than to play word games with the wizard; he was notorious for his silver tongue and playing with his food before he ate it. She was happy to let Daphne take control of the conversation. Merlin, Daphne could weave a story.
It angered her how Lucius Malfoy sat there drinking as if he was still wizarding royalty. She recognized where The Great Git's former haughtiness, arrogance, and superiority came from. She wondered what the family was like now behind closed doors. She wondered if Narcissa got angry at her husband for drinking. She wondered what The Great Git did with his endless time shut up in his own house. She wondered if Lucius Malfoy still thought he was so wonderful when he was sober. She couldn't help but snap and jibe, but afterward she felt a bit bad. At least Narcissa had tried to handle the situation with as much grace as possible, and she was the one who did the least harm and probably suffered the most. And at least The Great Git hadn't been a great git. And at least Lucius Malfoy… well, at least he had eventually gotten bored of trying to intimidate the Greengrass heir. Daphne's disappointed glare as Astoria had made her exit was enough to have made her feel guilty.
She resolved to return to the Malfoy Manor once she composed herself. She handed her wand back to the Auror and slowly walked back through the grounds (taking the long way through the dead rose garden) and into the house.
"Feeling better?" Daphne asked, trying to hide her surprise.
"Yes, much," Astoria responded. "Mrs. Malfoy, I couldn't help but notice that your rose garden has suffered a bit."
"Oh yes," said Narcissa, disappointed in the failure and confused as to where Astoria was going with her comment. "The gardener… well…"
"I must insist that you take some of our roses. I do not know if Daphne has mentioned it yet, but my sister's latest hobby has been re-landscaping parts of the grounds. However, she got a little overzealous when ordering the roses and ordered about ten too many. They are very low maintenance—magical roses, self-pruning and such. You must take them."
"But—"
"I insist," Astoria said, then looked to Daphne for confirmation. "We insist. We will have them dropped off tomorrow morning, if that is convenient for you."
"I—"
"I will Owl the gardener this evening, although I doubt it will be a problem since he normally comes to the estate that day anyway."
"Oh. Well, thank you, Miss Greengrass. That is most considerate of you." Astoria couldn't bring herself to say anything more and merely nodded.
Lucius Malfoy used that moment to excuse himself. The room watched the former patriarch leave the room, swaying a little in the doorway. When Astoria shifted her focus back, she found the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy giving her the same cold, calculated look she gave him when she walked in the door. Daphne cut the tension in the room with a comment about the garden, and Narcissa happily continued the conversation. Draco and Astoria, not the aspiring botanists, feigned interest to the point of exhaustion. At last, Astoria excused herself to go to the toilet, hoping to find somewhere to hide in the house for awhile.
She found the house rather disappointing, to be honest. As she wandered down a corridor, she wondered how it ever could have been a grand manor with how barren and dark it was. She traced the places where the wallpaper had a richer color, where expensive paintings used to rest. Even then, how much could fancy paintings, ornaments, and furniture make the house that much more appealing? A house needed light—that's what her father always said.
"If you are going to put four walls around you, use them to bring the beauty of the outside world in, not keep everything and everyone out."
She wondered what the elegant parties and soirees could have been like. She imagined the world of the wizarding elite swathed in dark, rich velvets, whispering conspiratorially in corners. She imagined sly, calculating gazes across the rooms, looks that held only secrets and scandals. Daphne would probably say that the image had a dark romanticism to it, but Astoria was glad she had missed out on the experience. Light would never touch the house, even in the middle of one of the prettiest summers England had experienced in the past few years.
Astoria caught a whiff of a familiar smell—books. She peered into the crack of a slightly opened door and saw a shelves of books. She had found the Malfoy family library. She pushed the door fully open and slowly stepped in the room. The shelves were now mostly empty and many of the books had tipped over without a friend to support its spine. But it was a library, and Astoria loved libraries. She ran her hands along the shelves, eyes looking at the titles, all ordinary. Most of the more controversial and darker books had obviously been seized in a hurry, and no one had bothered to reorganize the library since.
"Nosy," drawled a voice across the room, causing Astoria to jump and reach for her wand, which wasn't in her pocket. "Draco was right."
"Mr. Malfoy—" Astoria began to defend herself. The man silenced her with a hand.
"If you insist on intruding, you might as well stay. Sit. We will play chess," he gestured her to the empty chair across from him. "Sit," he repeated and Astoria figured that this was probably what she deserved for snooping. She walked across the room without breaking eye contact with the man and sat down with her arms supported by the armrests. "Do you fear me, Miss Greengrass?"
"I used to think I was afraid of nothing, but then I saw war and knew that there was plenty in the world to fear. However, you do not belong in that category, Mr. Malfoy."
The silver haired man gave a barking laugh. It would have sounded surprised had there not been a bitter edge. He tapped the chess board and the players re-set themselves.
"Ladies first."
They moved their pieces in silence for a few minutes.
"How is the estate?" he asked.
"Well in order. We are at the beginning of a new era. Changes were obviously necessitated."
"Naturally."
The game continued in silence as they began to capture each other's pieces.
"Will you return to Hogwarts in the fall?"
"I will. I want to finish my education."
"And how will you manage the estate while you are away?"
Astoria hadn't really considered what it would mean to manage a house while being a full-time student, but she found a response: "Magic," she met Lucius' cold gaze like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Do you always speak with such a churlish attitude?"
"Do you always try to intimidate your guests?"
"Did you learn that from your father?" he jeered back.
"Did you teach that to your son?" was her smooth reply although she internally fumed. "And if you must know, I learned how to turn my words into knives by my mother. How else would she have managed to get her way?" Astoria moved a piece. "Have some respect for the dead, Mr. Malfoy, and maybe one day you can get some respect from the living. Checkmate." She pushed her chair back, stood up, and turned to the door to find Draco Malfoy looking at her curiously.
"I was sent to look for you."
"Well done, Malfoy. You did it. You found me," Little Greengrass gave an encouraging smile the way one would congratulate a toddler for shitting in the toilet instead of his own pants. She marched down the hallway until he widened his stride and stepped in front of her.
"My mother has been looking forward to your family visiting us since before your trial," he hissed. "Do not fuck this up."
Greengrass peered up at him so that he could see the cogs turning in her gaze. She opened her mouth for a moment, seemed to think better, then closed it again before she spoke:
"I didn't realize," she said evenly. "How long was I gone for?"
"Long enough for your sister and I to realize that you had gotten nosy, bored, or antisocial and had taken a wander."
"And when did you become an expert on my lack of social prowess?" Once again, she spoke evenly. If they had been friends, he would have suspected that she was teasing him, but she still had the look in her eyes as if she was trying to study him under a magnifying glass.
"Oh believe me, I've had an abundance of time to contemplate all sorts of things these past two months. And it's not as if it is new information," he quickly added.
"Then tell me, how was Theo when he came?" she asked quietly, conveniently changing the subject. Draco chose his words carefully.
"Poised, and yet unwell to those who know better."
He heard her sigh disappointedly.
"He… I—"
"Draco, there you are!" his mum called out down the hallway. "Daphne and I are going to take a turn about the garden to decide where to put the roses. Miss Greengrass, I trust you are well?"
"Yes, I merely stopped for a chess game with your husband in the library."
"Pleasant, I hope?"
"Of course. I won. To the gardens, shall we?" she brushed by him, bumping his shoulder. And this is what he got for volunteering to save her social faux pas.
"Has your sister gotten lost?" Draco's mother had asked once Little Greengrass had been gone for over twenty minutes. Daphne saw she was defeated.
"I doubt it, although I am not sure if she is well today. She… she didn't sleep well last night."
Draco understood. He was constantly plagued with nightmares, even after days when he ran until he collapsed gasping for air. Some nights he would lay in bed, eyes wide open, too afraid to close them…
"I'll find her," he stood up.
"Draco—"
"She probably went to get some fresh air."
"Yes, probably," Daphne nodded.
"Draco!" his mother repeated more sternly. She wanted him to stay.
"I insist," he bowed his head to Daphne, who smiled at him gratefully. This seemed to appease his mother.
"Come back soon."
He went to check the obvious places first, peering through curious doors around the toilet. Then, he heard his father's voice:
"And how will you manage the estate while you are away?"
"Magic," was the whispering reply. Little Greengrass.
"Do you always speak with such a churlish attitude?"
"Do you always try to intimidate your guests?"
"Did you learn that from your father?"
"Did you teach that to your son?" her voice grew stronger as Draco hovered behind the door. "And if you must know, I learned how to turn my words into knives by my mother. How else would she have managed to get her way?"
Draco slid into the room. His father didn't look up.
"Have some respect for the dead, Mr. Malfoy, and maybe one day you can get some respect from the living. Checkmate."
She turned her head over her shoulder, about to leave, and he felt his stomach jolt. There he was, in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, looking at her bloodied back, the knobs of her vertebrae jutting out from under her skin. Blood, pale skin, dark hair, and green eyes. She walked right past him.
"I was sent to look for you," he lied.
"Well done, Malfoy. You did it. You found me."
They walked through the gardens, dead and brown. Daphne and Mrs. Malfoy conversed, planting imaginary flowers with a graceful arch of their hands. Perhaps a garden gave them comfort, Astoria thought as she picked bark off a tree. The peacock was nowhere to be seen.
The world of the Malfoy family was strange. The Great Git walked behind her and didn't say another word to her, only giving smiles and small comments to his mother and Daphne when prompted. Astoria watched him out of the corner of her eye, trying to find traces of the Malfoy she thought she knew. She found his Pureblood grace, which was impossible for wizards and witches like them to shake off. And she found his fear. She wondered how long they would carry it, how long they would be afraid.
Astoria managed to signal to Daphne that she wanted to leave. She had enough of the Malfoy Manor for the summer. Mrs. Malfoy and Daphne gave each other generous goodbyes and Mrs. Malfoy insisted that they return in a few weeks to see how the roses were growing. Daphne stretched out her hand to Malfoy; he kissed it and said goodbye, and then kept his hand out for Astoria. Daphne nudged her sister, and Astoria warily held her hand out to him. He took it with equal caution and brushed his lips against her knuckles for a second before releasing her.
"Goodbye, Miss Greengrass."
Astoria nodded and walked away briskly, stretching out her shaking hand at her side.
That evening, she sat outside with the dogs, enjoying the cool air and the stars above. Daphne sat down beside her.
"How are you?"
"Fine," Astoria shrugged.
"I know that was difficult for you," Daphne took her sister's hand.
"Do we have to go back?" Astoria asked, thinking of the darkness in the house, Lucius Malfoy's sneering smile, Narcissa's suspicious glare, and The Great Git's lips on her hand.
"I think it would be kind."
"Why do we have to be kind?"
"Because there's been too much hatred."
"But why do we have to be kind to them?"
"I think the Malfoy's have fallen a lot harder than they have let on. You haven't been at the Manor since you were very little, Astoria, but I have. Only a few years ago, really. And it was marvelous. You should have seen it at its finest, Tori. I know, it seems dark, but there was something very impressive and regal about the house. All of the paintings and most of the furniture are missing. I bet that most of the wings of the house are empty now, and I'm sure that most of Narcissa's jewelry has been sold off. They used to have so many roses in the garden and that ridiculous peacock," Daphne gave a little laugh. "And now it's all gone, and they are stuck inside an empty, dark house that has been filled with Death Eaters and… and that monster."
"They deserve it. At least the men do. They deserve more."
"That's rather vindictive."
"Blaise is in fucking Azkaban, Daphne, and Lucius Malfoy sits in his library getting drunk. They deserve more."
Daphne's lower lip trembled, but she pressed on.
"What was Draco's greatest crime, Astoria?"
"He took the Dark Mark."
"And?"
"He let the Carrows free. He tried to kill Dumbledore."
"And why did he all do that? Out of fear? To protect his family? Those motives are not far from yours."
"Are you trying to justify his actions? Are you actually comparing me to Malfoy?" Astoria leapt up, causing the dogs to jump in surprise.
"You must not have hated him so much to help him cut off his Dark Mark. Forgive him, Tori."
"And have you forgiven Zabini? How's that going?" Astoria hissed. This time, Daphne's face crumbled.
"That was cruel, Astoria," she began to cry before retreating inside. Castor and Pollux whined and nudged Astoria to rub their bellies. She stood up, pushing away the puppy faces licking her knees, and went to the library, knowing that sleep would allude her that night. With her secret brass key, she opened up a series of drawers, leading to more keys, until she peeled off the loose floor board and gazed at the pair of green eyes painted on the final lock. When she heard the final click of the lock, she reached into the hidden compartment and pulled out the records of the farm and her grandfather's diary.
July 1, 1945
Today, my legacy begins. Today, my horse won. Today, I met the woman who I hope to make my wife.
Astoria sort of knew the end of the story. She knew that the woman, her grandmother, died young, leaving behind a grieving husband and two very young children. She knew that the barn went up in flames not long after, killing every horse on the Greengrass Estate. She knew that her father had few memories of the horses and even fewer of her grandfather, who kept his distance from his children for the rest of their lives. She remembered her grandfather's funeral when she was young, not too much before Alastair left the family for good. She remembered that no one cried and almost no one came.
Exhausted of the mystery named Malfoy, she opened the diary and hoped it would give her answers. Perhaps here she would discover how a man could fall.
"So, how did it go?" McMorrow asked.
"Cig?" Draco stretched out his hand. McMorrow sighed and handed one over. "Matches?"
"You're always using mine."
"Shall I pop down to the shop and get us some more?" Draco drawled.
"Touché," McMorrow muttered, striking a match for Draco. He deeply inhaled. "Now, I'll ask again: how did it go?"
"Fine."
"Fine? Just fine?"
"Yes, just fine."
"You're no fun."
"Really, because I thought it was my middle name," Draco sneered.
"Well, you're in a right foul mood."
Draco sat in silence.
"I still think she hates me."
"Who?"
"Little Greengrass."
"Ah. Well, were you expecting her to forgive you?"
"No."
"Well, that's that."
"She's changed. She looks… different. Well. Almost. At least better," Draco attempted to explain.
"Nice?"
"No," Draco snorted. "She's sixteen, she's a child. She spent weeks on her private island in Greece, and suddenly it's as if the war never happened. At school, she was… she was a shadow of herself. We didn't eat, we didn't sleep, we were anxious all the time. And today she showed up in my living room, and it was like meeting a new person."
"But you weren't expecting her forgiveness."
"No," Draco coughed and changed the subject. "And my father knows about the smoking."
"Fuck."
"He said, I quote, that it was 'absolutely fine.'"
"Really?"
"Really. He found it suitable for my age. He also then proceeded to threaten to tell my mother unless I was nice to Daphne." McMorrow sniggered. "He talked with Little Greengrass a lot. She played chess with him in the library. And won."
"Impressive."
"Not really. He isn't a great chess player. I think he was more impressed by her being the youngest heiress in the country, her actually knowing what she's doing, and her not being afraid of him."
"Well, that is quite impressive for sixteen. But as you said, she's a child, right?"
Draco and McMorrow were quiet for a few minutes.
"I didn't expect her forgiveness. Not today, no. But I think… I think that one day I'll want it and she's not going to make it easy to earn it."
"You might want to try forgiving yourself first," the Auror squashed his cig on the ground, stood up, and dusted off his hands. Draco dug his cig into the ground and looked up at the night sky, spying the Scorpius constellation twinkling off in the distance.
"Yeah. Right."