Chapter 1

It all started with a whim.

Astoria was sitting in St. Mungo's, wringing her hands, waiting for Healer Lyra Hiddlestick to return with a new potion she needed to take. It had not been a 'good owl' day; instead of the usual spell-and-potion-poof-you're-done routine, Astoria had been in her private room for almost 5 hours. Lyra, concerned about how pale Astoria looked, had run some tests and proved her worst fears true. The treatments weren't working as they once did.

You're 18 now, Astoria, she berated herself. What did you expect? Lyra told you things would get worse. Her thoughts were bitter. And that was before the rise of You-Know-Who, and last year at Hogwarts, and Tullia's… she clenched her eyes shut, desperately trying to block thoughts of Tullia out of her mind. She couldn't go there, not yet. She reopened her eyes reluctantly and cast them around the room, looking for distraction.

"Too young for grey hair? Charm it away!" shouted a garish purple headline, written under a picture of a perky auburn-haired witch smiling stupidly out of the cover of Witch Weekly's March edition.

At least I don't have grey hair, Astoria mused, briefly inspecting the end of a tendril as if to check it was still a boring light brown. She had never looked at a Witch Weekly magazine in her life. "Pitiful rubbish for common witches!" was the eloquent way her mother tended to describe it. But at this point, she was desperate for any kind of escape from her darker thoughts. She picked it up from the table beside her cot and started flipping through it.

"Tips to turn up the tint of your tired tousles! Here's a no-fail charm to make those luscious locks lively again!" She snorted at the terrible alliteration, but continued reading. As she scanned the proffered charm, Astoria found herself wondering what her mother would do if she came home with Weasley-ginger hair. She'd have kittens, she thought. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Maybe not red… but what about Ravenclaw blue?

It was not long after that that Lyra returned to the room to find Astoria with a head of deep blue hair. She looked paler than ever, but in a way so severe and eye-catching that the healer stopped in her tracks.

"Well, stun me silver. Your mother is going to jinx your head off your shoulders if you go home like that." She had said it with a smile on her face, so Astoria knew the healer was amused. Amused, but not wrong, her inner voice corrected.

As much to herself as to Lyra's comment, she responded boldly. "I am not afraid of my mother. I'm not afraid of anything anymore." Her eyes blazed with recklessness, and she found herself almost hoping for a fight.

Instead, Lyra's expression saddened. "Astoria, dearie, I've known you now for eight years. I know most of what you've gone through. You are a young woman with a strong mind and steel at the core." Her usual clipped tone was tempered by kind eyes that weren't afraid to hold Astoria's fiery ones. "But there's always something to be afraid of." She reached out to push a wave of blue-black off Astoria's shoulder. The fight fell out of her. Only Lyra could have ever got away with saying such things without Astoria wanting to roll her eyes or cry.

"But that's perfectly all right. Fear can be managed… as long as you're dealing with it," she continued. "For what it's worth, that colour looks stunning on you. Very dramatic." Lyra winked. Astoria managed a small smile in return.

"Now drink up. I think this will be just the ticket." She handed Astoria a glass of something wretched-looking. Bottoms up, she thought and threw it back.

Her parents' reactions hadn't been nearly as extreme as she had imagined. She wondered if it was related to Lyra's comment, that it was a way of her dealing with everything she'd been through. Astoria never doubted for a second that her parents cared for her - but sometimes, it felt like they cared way too much. Overprotective was an understatement. She had caught the shadow of worry or sympathy in their eyes when they didn't know she was aware they were looking at her. I may be cursed - I might even drop dead to the floor at any moment - but should that rule every single decision in my life?

Charming her hair had changed something in her. Ever since the failed potion plot when she was 9, Astoria had never misbehaved or broken rules. Not important ones, anyway. She started to wonder why that was, and came to the conclusion that her younger self had equated getting sick with acting out.

She felt a sad regret at how long this unconscious fear had driven her. Why had she never questioned it? It seemed that a childhood without some misbehaving was a wasted one.

Well, she thought, my childhood may be over, but that doesn't mean it's too late to start now. And with that revelation, Astoria started to push all her limits, one by one. That summer, she started going out for midnight walks in the gardens when she knew her parents were sleeping. She adventured into Muggle London alone after one of her St. Mungo's visits. One day, she'd told her parents she was going to lie down in her room; instead, she took the Floo to Diagon Alley and ate ice cream like a child who had never tasted sweets. She couldn't remember any time in her childhood when she'd ever been entirely on her own. She felt free, and properly independent. And she couldn't seem to get enough of it.

Her parents seemed to be entirely clueless about the matter. She had learned to hide her thoughts and feelings so well that they never suspected their daughter had become a secret rebel. It was harder to hide from Lyra, whom she saw so often and could tell when Astoria was being reckless with her health. But the greatest surprise was that her sister Daphne was the first to call her out on it.

One night, as she was silently locking the Manor back door behind her, she heard a rustle from a nearby bush. She spun around quickly, wand at the ready. Standing tall in the dim light, there was Daphne - dressed in a set of very tight-fitting robes and her arms crossed. She smiled smugly. "Well, well, what have we here? Prim and proper Astoria Greengrass, sneaking out."

"Shhh!" Astoria hissed. "Do you want to get caught?" She threw a panicked glance back at the manor for signs of movement.

"No, I don't. And since I doubt you want to get caught either, you should come with me." She turned on her heel and walked quickly (which was impressive, given the height of the heel) down the garden path away from the Manor.

Astoria wanted to call after her to stop, but didn't dare risk the chance that someone in the house would hear. Fletcher would run to Mum and Dad faster than a greased Snitch…

Finally out of earshot from the house, she grabbed her sister's shoulder to stop her. "Would you stop for a minute? Where are you going?"

Daphne smiled wickedly at her and threw her blonde hair over one shoulder importantly. "You mean where are WE going. I think it's high time you had more fun in your life."

Astoria rolled her eyes. "Daphne, you are well aware that your idea of 'fun' is not the same as mine."

"Oh, lighten up. Admit it - ever since you came home with that monstrous hair of yours-" she made a face, "you have just been begging to misbehave." She cocked an eyebrow knowingly at her little sister. Astoria opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again. Did her sister know she'd been sneaking out?

Without any real desire to argue, she shrugged her shoulders in surrender. "Fine. Whatever. Where are 'we' going?" She couldn't believe she was agreeing to this. Just a quiet night in the gardens, that's all I wanted, she thought.

Daphne, oblivious to her sister's grumpiness, gave a muted squeal of glee and hugged her. "Oh, you are not going to regret this." She held Astoria's shoulders and looked distastefully down at Astoria's trousers and black sleeveless blouse. "But you will regret dressing like that when you see where we're going. "In fact…" Daphne raised her own wand and before Astoria could object, she found herself wearing only the blouse. It ended far short of her knees, Astoria saw. She looked at it, then up at Daphne, and glared.

"Oh, fine." Daphne gave another casual flick of her wand, and the blouse lengthened some. It now covered her thighs. Astoria couldn't help teasing her, by asking "what, no belt?" Daphne gave a girlish giggle and flicked her wand again. "Accessories, accessories." A silver belt made of long links hugged her hips, while long strings of smaller silver links hung from her earlobes. On top of everything, and before Astoria could stop her, she felt her practical shoes sprouting heels almost tall enough to rival Daphne's. Oh, this is just bloody fantastic, she grumbled inwardly.

"I suppose it's the best I can manage," Daphne sighed dramatically, while Astoria rolled her eyes again. "Now let's go!"

A side-along apparition later, Astoria found herself beside Daphne at the entrance to a dark cobblestoned alley. Firelight shone from a sleek metal torch on the wall about halfway down, from where loud music pulsed into the night. "Come on!" Daphne said excitedly, and led them towards the light. Astoria followed her carefully and found she was having too difficult a time concentrating on not tripping over her ridiculous new heels to study any guilt or nerves she might have.

"Where are we?" Daphne glanced back at her sister over her shoulder.

"Falmouth. We're meeting Pansy and Tracey." Astoria made a face at her sister's back. She had definite opinions about the Slytherin girls Daphne was friends with. Without looking, Daphne said "Don't make faces - you'll ruin your look."

Great Godric, had she added cosmetics too? Her sister was a cleverer hand at Charms than she'd guessed.

As they approached the torch, Astoria was able to make out an iron sign underneath that read 'The Hidden Fiddle'. Just beside it was what looked like a door with no handle, flanked by two dark and narrow windows. The flame of the torch illuminated them like mirrors, and Astoria self-consciously snuck a look at what Daphne had done to her face while her sister pulled out her wand.

"Apertiportus." Daphne's wand shot a jet of sparks at the door, which slowly creaked open in response. The music tripled in volume.

"Come on!" Astoria was pulled inside. The corridor they entered into was long, dark and dimly lit in a way that caused everything in it to gleam dully like pewter. The music grew louder as they progressed.

Finally, the hall ended in a triad of openings. Through the one on the left, Astoria could see a sizeable dance floor. The music was pouring out from that room. Straight ahead was what looked like a long hallway to the toilets, and directly opposite from the dance hall was an intimate lounge with a long black marble bar. The room was scattered with tufted high-backed chairs, silver velvet settees and dark grey leather chesterfields. They were clustered around low bronze tables that glimmered in an ambient golden glow, lit by glowing crystal balls hovering a foot below the ceiling.

"Sweet Morgana, Daphne. Where have you taken me?" Astoria was in love. The beauty of the room instantly made her feel more at ease. She was reminded of the single time her sister had shown her the Slytherin common room with its tufted settees and cool stone walls. She'd been sufficiently impressed… but this was a thousand times more… well, sensual, really.

Daphne didn't answer what she must have dismissed as another of her sister's rhetorical questions, and instead charged across the room to a cluster of people that Astoria instantly recognized as Slytherins from her sister's year. Yes, there was Pansy and Tracey, but also with them were Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy.

Pansy made a show of hugging Daphne and squealing in delight. Astoria was momentarily distracted by wondering whether she had ever in her life made a sound as shrill. She was thus caught off guard then when Daphne introduced her to everyone there.

"Everyone, you might remember my baby sister Astoria. She was at Hogwarts a couple years after us, but she wasn't a Slytherin. We won't hold that against her, will we?" Daphne's charm was on full force, and everyone laughed.

"Of course we will," teased Blaise. He looked appraisingly at Astoria, and apparently liked what he saw, because he winked lustily at her. Blinking with surprise, Astoria turned to look at someone else - anyone else. Her eyes fell on Draco.

He was sitting in one of the ornate high-backed chairs, and luckily he wasn't looking at her. In fact, he wasn't really looking at any of his friends. Astoria thought he looked as if he were somewhere entirely different.

She sat down on the chesterfield with Daphne, who immediately launched into the conversation. Apparently Millicent Bulstrode had become engaged, and the group of them were gossiping about what desperate groom would want such a creature. Astoria remained silent and listened; she had always assumed Millicent was one of their friends and couldn't figure out the sudden enmity towards her. A few minutes was enough to demonstrate that that was simply how her sister's friends interacted. Apparently anyone not present, friend or foe, was fair game for gossip and judgment.

Feeling very much the outsider, she looked back at Draco. He was watching the group passively, still giving Astoria the feeling that he was barely there. Pansy was sitting in a settee right beside his chair, and often made flirtatious comments or suggestive gestures to try and get his attention. He smirked distractedly at most of them, ignored the rest.

What a spoiled brat, Astoria thought. He hasn't changed a whit since that summer day when Tullia and I… She instantly cut off her train of thought, not wanting to go there. Instead, she tried to distract herself by grabbing a drink off the tray the bartender had just approached the table with.

"Bottoms up," she said, to no one in particular, and threw the whole drink back. The cocktail turned out to be a Gilly Sour - what tasted like gillywater, sour lime, and a strong clear liquor that made her throat burn. Only after she set the glass down at the table did she realize that it wasn't a shot glass. Whoops, she thought. That's going to hit fast.

She straightened up, only to discover that Draco was staring at her.

"Knut for your thoughts?" she said to him, her voice ringing with irritation. Do I even want to know?

Draco, who had also taken a drink off the tray, raised an eyebrow and took a sip. "I've just never seen a well-bred witch throw back a whole glass of anything that quickly before."

Astoria's cheeks suddenly burned. She sat up straighter, furious with her blush. "It just so happens I've had a fair amount of practice with swallowing large..." She cut herself off abruptly before saying 'potions'. Great Godric, she thought. Shut your gob before you let something slip! These are exactly the people you need to be careful saying things around. It had been so long since she talked to anyone other than her family or Lyra that her social skills had become rusty. Time to relearn the habit of hiding things, she thought.

Draco was still watching her, waiting for her to finish speaking. "I can't wait to hear how that sentence ends," he smirked, his insinuation clear.

Astoria understood what he was getting at immediately, and was a little disappointed at him taking the easy shot. But it was better than raising suspicion about her illness, so she decided to go with it. Astoria arched her eyebrow aristocratically and shot back. "Oh, I'm sure that a fine young bloke like you can finish on your own." She sent him an intentionally cryptic half-smile and turned her back on him, diving into the other conversation as if it were the most interesting thing she'd heard in decades.

Draco was staring at her, stunned to silence. He'd barely ever met this girl before, and yet here she was, spitting some obscene dismissal and brushing him off like a common wizard off the street. For a second, he wondered if this blue-haired harpy even knew who he was.

How dare she, Malfoy fumed silently. She had attracted his attention now, and he looked her over critically. She looks like a freak with that hair, he thought. And yet… there was something oddly alluring about it. Daphne's little sister was a fascinating combination of high contrast: midnight blue waves and smooth pale skin; upper-class manners peppered with smartass remarks. She avoided being the centre of attention, and yet she was seemingly indifferent of what other people thought of her. He watched as she sat beside her sister and followed the tedious conversation of his 'friends', occasionally adding her two knuts by skewering weak arguments and snapping out witty comebacks. All with social grace and a smile on her face, like her sister was known for.

As for Astoria, she was finally starting to enjoy herself. Not because the conversation was all that interesting (there was only so much society gossip she cared to comment on), and not because she missed the 'good old days' and the stuck-up 'sacred' pure-blood views that most of the people she was with subscribed to. But because she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed debating, disagreeing, being challenged. Her wits had dulled over the past year since the death of the Dark Lord. Her solitary escapes had been just that - solitary - and she hadn't encountered any fresh perspectives in so long, she'd nearly forgotten what it was like to have to defend an opinion. She hadn't realized how much she missed it until now.

As Tracey and Blaise argued over which Quidditch player was the fittest, a topic she had little interest in, she took a moment to watch her sister. It was because of her that Astoria was even here, really. Daphne was patiently listening to Pansy complain about how her life had been 'inconvenienced' by the Death Eater trials over the past few months, all the while shooting sulky looks at Draco - who was paying more attention to the armrest of his chair than to her.

Astoria was, frankly, confounded at Pansy's insensitivity. Did she not understand that the Death Eater trials were probably the last thing in the world Draco wanted to hear about? It was certainly the last thing on her list of conversation topics. Determined to change the subject, she was about to offer another round of drinks when her sister beat her to it.

"Pansy, no one wants to talk about that. It's such a buzzkill. What we need is more drinks." She signaled the waiter and continued talking. "Draco, were you at the Quidditch match earlier? Falmouth vs Ballycastle? I assume that's why we're here in Falmouth tonight."

Astoria stared at her sister. She didn't think she'd ever heard her sister willingly talk about Quidditch before, not to mention be able to name the teams of who had played today. Draco looked just as taken off guard.

"Yes, I was. My father and I have season tickets for the Falcons." Astoria did very well to not roll her eyes. My father and I… ha. Still the same big-headed Malfoy show-off, she thought. Now she definitely had to tease him.

"What a shame," Astoria sighed. "I had thought you would have had more sense than to be a Falcons fan. I bet the Bats ripped them to shreds. What was the final score?"

Draco looked over to Astoria, annoyed. "320 to 190 for Ballycastle." Astoria let out a short laugh, hoping it would wind Draco up further. Toying with a prat like him would be far more entertaining than anything else she could expect that night.

But he had more self-control than she'd given him credit for. He merely smirked and reached up to take two drinks off the approaching waiter's tray. He handed one to Astoria. "But it was a much better game than that dismal display of flying at the Ballycastle/Holyhead game last week. You can't possibly be a Bats fan. I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart. You were a Ravenclaw, weren't you?"

That sly little… She caught herself gaping wordlessly, and tried for a scoff. Obviously, she'd underestimated the wit of Draco Malfoy. Maybe he did remember her from Hogwarts. But she doubted it; he had been so self-involved. And there'd been those rumours in her last few years. That he'd been a Death Eater himself, that his family had been one of Voldemort's closest supporters. And that despite all this, he'd been cleared of most charges. She'd chalked it up to the usual pure-blood privilege, that some well-connected galleon-greased hands at the Ministry had mitigated the fallout. But she now looked at Draco with fresh eyes, wondering whether there was a strategic mastermind behind the posh exterior.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Pansy was watching the two of them. She wasn't even trying to disguise her jealousy that Draco was giving his attention to someone other than her. I bet she too is used to always getting what she wants, Astoria thought. She then glanced at Daphne, only to be surprised by the expression of smug satisfaction as she monitored them. Astoria looked questioningly at her sister, but was ignored.

She took a long sip of her drink and then looked back at Draco, catching him looking her over with the same kind of thorough examination she'd just treated him to. She stared back at him until he finally met her gaze.

"Looking for something?" she questioned him.

"Hardly," he replied coolly. But his eyes didn't leave hers. She felt a rush of heat flood through her, and for one anxious moment she thought she might be about to faint.

Instinctively, without thinking it through, she set the drink down with a thud and rose swiftly to her feet. The tell-tale signs of the curse whispered in the background, and she felt momentarily light-headed. Her vision started to go black, but it was such a familiar feeling for her, she kept her eyes open so as not to draw suspicion.

Her sister, though, had obviously been watching her closely enough to see her eyes unfocus. "You all right, Astoria?"

Blinking once and holding on to the side of the chesterfield, she looked straight at Daphne and said confidently, "Oh, I'm fine. That first drink just hit harder than I expected." She smiled, hiding her private fear as best as she could. "I'm just going to step out for a moment." Her sister's face held a shadow of worry, but as she too had been schooled in keeping Astoria's condition a secret, she only nodded and smiled in return.

Pansy snickered maliciously as she walked away, and Astoria overheard her say to Daphne, "A bit of a lightweight, isn't she?"

"At least she's amusing," Draco shot back, dryly. Astoria wasn't sure whether she should feel insulted or complimented.

A moment later, after a splash of water on her face, Astoria felt much better (if still a little tipsy). She knew, though, that if she stayed longer and drank more, the chance of something serious happening would only increase. The very last thing she wanted was to end up in St. Mungo's trying to explain to her parents (or worse, Lyra) what she was doing sneaking out to drink at a club nearly 200 kilometres away from home. Not to mention exposing her family to gossip. And Daphne would get in trouble too. But the new rebellious part of her didn't seem to care at all about caution. She was having fun for the first time in far too long. And Draco Malfoy… well, she'd never have believed that she'd be enjoying a battle of wits with the Prince of Slytherin.

With his bored grey eyes on her mind, she left the girls' toilets. She stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Malfoy coming up the narrow hall.

He's obviously just going to the loo, moron, she told herself. But she didn't move. He was staring at her in a way that made Astoria wish that Daphne had made her blouse-turned-dress an inch longer.

It was like locking eyes with a snake. She stood, frozen, as he walked towards her. He looked as though he had meant to go right past her, but instead of stepping out of his way, she merely turned her body. He had assumed she would step back to let him pass, so when he moved by her, their entire fronts grazed.

It was as if it happened in slow motion. A zing of electricity seemed to crackle between them. Astoria felt herself flush with warmth. Draco's eyes still held hers captive. But a step later, he was past her and looking away. She exhaled deeply, and embarrassingly loudly.

He'd stopped, hearing her. The silence hung heavily. After what felt like a full minute to Astoria, he turned and repossessed her gaze. The flush of heat she had felt was now a feverish flame. She was about to stammer an apology, but found the words die in her throat.

"No witty comebacks?" His grey eyes were charcoal in the low light and were fixed on her in a way that made her itch to touch him again. She felt herself barely step towards him, as if in invitation.

Then, as fast as a lightning strike, they reached out for each other. Draco's hand clamped to the back of Astoria's head and pulled her lips towards his. Astoria had grasped his collar and pulled him closer.

She felt as though she were caught in an uncontrolled explosion. Her veins seemed to want to jump out of her skin, her heart was beating so hard. His hand on her neck was insanity, his lips on hers were ecstasy. She'd never been kissed like this in her life. It felt as though Draco was dying of thirst, and she was water. He devoured her, claimed her, ran his tongue teasingly over hers. Throwing all inhibitions to the wind, Astoria closed her lips around it and sucked lightly, rewarded with Draco inhaling in shock and drawing back.

They stood, bodies still pressed together, and stared at one another. Both were panting, as if they'd run a marathon.

"I think…" breathed Astoria, trying desperately to find comprehensible words (a difficult task after one has had their wits scattered all over the hallway). "I think you should come home with me," she whispered, her voice husky. What?! Why did you say that? What the hell are you thinking?! she screamed mentally. You've done some crazy things lately… but this, this is mad. Do you care at all about what could happen?

But she didn't care. Her body was lit up like a Hogwarts Christmas tree. She felt fully alive, unafraid of curses or memories, and all she wanted to do was bask in these sensations for as long as she could. And if that was dangerous… well, then, she needed a little more danger in her life.

Draco seemed to have reclaimed his self-control again but was still staring at her intensely. His hand reached up to cup her jaw, his thumb running over her swollen lips, and Astoria was thrown completely off-balance when he smiled softly - with no trace of arrogance or smirk.

"I agree," he breathed.