Bonjour, my friends. First-thanks to all the people who reviewed, favorited and followed. And 'House of Cards' is now at 510 views. I love you all soooo much. So this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction. I'm sorry for any mistakes and OOC-ness. But I just wondered how he met Astoria and he says in the Cursed Child that she changed him and I kinda wanted to write how. Drastoria is seriously underrated compared to Dramione and Drarry so we need some love for this amazing ship here.

Thanks to my amazing beta Tempest Novastorm for her usual amazing work. Thanks to Queen of the dork people for being the first to hear the plot and yelling at me to finish the damn story. Love you both.

Also, this is my one year writing anniversary! Yes, I purposely waited to publish it then. September 23rd. Here's to many, many more years!

WARNING: Strong language and a lot of hurt.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the Queen herself, the Prophetess-JKR.

He couldn't stay. He needed to get away.

The Dark Lord was dead. They had won, though he wasn't sure if "they" included him. He was alive. His parents were too. They had all lived. He should've been happy for being able to stay alive. Or he should've been mourning the end of the Dark Lord. But this, this was hollowness. He couldn't feel. He was afraid of what outburst would escape him if he tried to feel. And he was a Slytherin, and a Malfoy- they don't show their feelings. That was for lesser men.

He couldn't bear it. All those people crying or talking with their family. People rejoicing the death of the greatest Dark Wizard. His parents had left after the original mayhem. They had been overjoyed that he was alive and they were all together again. He wished he felt the same feeling. He knew it would only be days before the Ministry came knocking and probably carted him and his father, maybe even his mother, to Azkaban. But that was not what was eating him up.

He couldn't bear it anymore.

He walked down the halls of that place that he used to call home. He had hated it at first. He thought himself better than it. That was until the Carrows had spoilt the one place that he realized with a jolt, where he had actually been happy. He entered the Slytherin Common Room. There were damages all over the castle but somehow, this place had escaped unscathed. Sighing, he slumped down on one of the chairs and stared into space. One thought pounded in his head:

No one understands.

And that was the problem. No one understands what he, Draco Malfoy, had gone through. To the Slytherins, he had been their Prince. To the others- the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, he was the epitome of the Dark Side at Hogwarts. He was the bully who picked on people. He was the guy who had caused all of this.

Nothing would ever be the same.

Draco was tired, so very tired- of keeping up the façade that all of this didn't bother him; that he didn't give a shit about all the other non-Slytherins; that he was still faithful to the Dark Lord. He couldn't stand looking at himself in the mirror. He was a monster. He was vile, evil, a coward and repulsive, even to himself. He was even worse than Wormtail. He deserved Azkaban. He deserved much worse for all the suffering he had brought.

He was stuck in a stupor when he heard the click of the Common Room door being opened and in entered a girl. He blinked once, just to make sure lack of food and sleep hadn't made him start hallucinating. She was real, all right. He groaned to himself. He couldn't handle anybody right now, and definitely not some annoying junior. He looked closely at her for a second. Ah, the little Greengrass. Daphne's sister.

He scrutinized her for another second. She was OK-looking, he supposed. Could be classified pretty, if she dressed up and all, but right now-she only wore a T-shirt and jeans. Long blonde hair in waves which, right now, was covered with soot and dust. She had blue eyes that stood out from her pale complexion. She had an OK figure but he had been with way more gorgeous and voluptuous women before. She didn't bother him. "What was her name again?" he thought. Something with the letter A.

She was looking at him, and he was aware of that. But not in a way like he was something abhorrent nor in a way like he was an angel or something. She was looking at him with….concern. And pity?

"What do you want?" He asked, sullenly. He was over anger or disgust or any feeling.

"Well, you were missing and they're taking a kind of roll call to see how many people survived and are not injured."

He replied, in that same sullen tone, "It doesn't matter. Let them think I'm dead. At least I won't go to Azkaban that way."

She shook her head gently, "Are you dumb, Draco? They don't blame you or your parents. They know you were coerced. Merlin, I thought you were smart."

He gave her a nod as acknowledgement. He wouldn't have to go to Azkaban. Good, he could stay here and complete his education. He hoped they would redo the whole year again. They hadn't actually learnt anything of use except the Cruciatus Curse and how to conjure up FiendFyre, which would probably become illegal again.

All of a sudden, a question popped into his brain. "I thought all of the Slytherins had left Hogwarts?"

"You stayed behind." she quipped

"Huh. Very funny! Didn't your sister drag you to safety?"

She pursed her lips. "Yes, she wanted to. But I wanted there to be at least one Slytherin fighting for Hogwarts, so that our name isn't completely tarnished after the battle."

He was surprised at her bravery-noble but foolish. Never mind.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, physical exhaustion taking over. When he opened his eyes, he realized she was still there and was still staring at him.

"Can you please stop staring, Alicia? It's getting kind of creepy." He muttered grimly.

She rolled her eyes. "It's Astoria. And you're hurt, Draco. You need healing. Look at you, you look exhausted. You need to come up to the Great Hall. There's a makeshift infirmary there. You can get treated."

He shook his head and said, "I'm fine."

Astoria placed her hands on her hips and gave me a look that was vaguely reminiscent of Weasley's mother.

"No, don't think of that!" he chided himself.

Draco saw the whole Weasley family huddled together, wearing identical expressions of grief. In the centre of the group was the lifeless body of one of the Twins, his face still having the ghost of a smile…

No, he couldn't think of that. He couldn't.

Astoria brought him out of her reverie by tugging at the sleeve of his robe. "You are coming with me! You are hurt, despite what you may say or think." She declared firmly.

He gritted his teeth. She was seriously getting on his nerves.

He stubbornly said, "I am fine. Can you please leave?"

"No, can you please stop saying that you are fine! You are not fine and I can see that!" Astoria sharply retorted.

Draco gave a defeated sigh, "Getting healed is for people who get to lead a proper life after being cured. Getting healed is not for people like me. It's for those people who deserve to live."

She placed an arm on his shoulder but he shook it away.

Draco looked up at Astoria's hurt expression and it made him feel bad. But he suppressed the feeling.

Just another thing for the list of regrets.

"I know that you deserve to live. You're not a bad person, Draco. You've just been…misguided," She gently comforted.

Draco shook his head. He wanted to believe what she said but he held himself back. He didn't need more lies in his head.

"You can heal anybody but me."

She smiled at him, "No, you will get better. I get it, you had problems but it's going to be OK."

Anger suddenly crept into Draco. Anger he hadn't felt in a long while. How could she just assume that she could take away his problems and make him better? How could she get it? No one could! It wasn't simple "problems". Greengrass didn't know anything.

He snarled, "I've got scars that you can't heal, Greengrass."

She raised her eyebrows in doubt but kept an even tone. "Everybody's got scars."

He saw red. How dare she suggest that anybody's pain, anybody's anguish came close to his? They would never, ever know how it felt!

He growled, "Oh really?!"

He rolled back his left arm sleeve to show her his Dark Mark. It was faded, more light than he had ever seen it but still visible. He expected her to flinch or wince. She didn't. She gave a slight gasp when she saw the mark that had been on the hands of all those people who had murdered her friends but that was all.

After a minute or so, he demanded, "Well?"

She tore her eyes away from the Mark and said, in a placid voice, "As I told you, everybody has scars, Draco."

Draco said, mockingly, trying to conceal his anger, "Uh-huh. What great scars do you have, Greengrass? A Quidditch mishap or did you spill a potion on yourself?"

Astoria smiled indulgently "Very hilarious, Draco."

Before he could respond, she had removed her T-shirt. His jaw opened slightly. He had taken in the sight of her pale, creamy skin and her periwinkle blue bra for hardly a few seconds before his eyes immediately went to the bruises all over her body.

Some of them were new, probably from the battle. But some were old, they were healing. They were ugly, yellow mars and some were purple. The new ones were turning a nasty shade of violet. Draco felt a surge of anger towards the Carrows when he saw the marks on her bodies. Astoria turned slowly and he could see the whip marks from Filch's equipment on her back. And there, near her shoulder blade was a carving on her skin:

Blood-traitor.

It was almost identical to the one Aunt Bellatrix had carved on Granger at Malfoy Manor except that it was deeper and much more shoddily cut. Draco got up, in half a trance and walked up to Astoria.

His voice was a hoarse whisper when he asked, "How?"

He could hear the barely concealed pain in her voice when she said, "Carrows. Alecto did it."

He brushed a finger over the cut and she shivered at his touch. He placed his palm on her waist and turned her around. They were practically face-to-face (she was shorter than him) and he could feel her warm breath on his face.

Draco could see that she was hurting, mentally and physically but there was no sign of tears in her eyes. She instead had this blazing look.

He asked her softly, "You're pure blood. Why would they do that?"

Astoria moved away, slightly uncomfortably. He shuffled awkwardly back to his seat and she sat down next to him.

She said, after a few minutes, "Well, the DA were all about overthrowing the Carrows and Professor Snape, but someone had to teach the little kids proper magic and not just the Dark Arts."

Draco stared at her, utterly flabbergasted.

He half yelled, "You did what?"

She smiled, in a guilty sort of way and said, "I found out that the First Years could barely Transfigure matches into needles. I had to help them and make them understand that Hogwarts isn't usually like this and that this was just temporary. I had to teach them that blood purity isn't important. The Carrows caught me and this was my punishment. The whipping. When I didn't stop, they used the Cruciatus Curse on me. And when they found me helping the Muggle-Borns, Alecto carved my skin."

He was astounded. How could someone be so damn righteous and moral and not give a damn about their own well-being at all? He would have to be lying if he said that this witch was not fascinating him.

He knew he was staring but at that moment he didn't care. She was looking so damn intriguing and he felt like he was getting to know a completely new person.

Astoria blushed a pale shade of pink as she noticed him staring and averted her gaze and looked down, which led to him looking down-and that wasn't helping his case at all, what with her clothes or the lack thereof.

He shifted in his seat and crossed his legs. She had seen what he was doing and blushed a dark shade of crimson. She slowly picked up the T-shirt she had thrown on the chair and straightened it. As she tugged it on, Draco decidedly looked the other way.

"No point lusting after her, Draco-she's not your type! She needs someone dependable, not you!" He mentally scolded himself.

She gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder and he turned to face her, all decent. And he was not expecting her to be an inch away from his face. Her hair hung in waves about her face and she just looked so damn… he honestly didn't know which word to use to describe her at that moment. The way she was smiling at him. The way she smelled- of dust, smoke, sweat, berries, the Forbidden Forest all forming something so intoxicating and numbing.

Draco turned away with Herculean effort. He would be lying if he hadn't been tempted to kiss her.

Why was this happening? Stop!

Astoria placed her petite hand on Draco's shoulder and said, softly, "Draco, what's the real reason you don't want to go up and face everybody? You're not scared of Azkaban, I know that."

He shook his head. He didn't want to open that box of hurt in his chest.

"You're not a murderer, Draco," Dumbledore's kind face peered at him, his blue eyes reading every molecule in his body.

No! No! No! He couldn't think of that! He shouldn't!

"Come Draco, we must give punishments were punishments are due. It's simple," Voldemort's cold voice sounded like mockery but anyone who was present would know there was nothing there but anger. "Simple-like this," The Dark Lord raised his wand, directed it at Bellatrix and shrieked, "Crucio!" Bellatrix twitched and screamed uncontrollably. Draco winced. The moment didn't go unnoticed by Voldemort. He said, softly, "Now Draco, do what I just did to Lucius and show him what happens when he disobeys his Lord." Reluctantly, Draco raised his wand and pointed it at his father's fearful face and whispered, "Crucio." Even the simple whisper caused Lucius Malfoy to writhe painfully on the floor. Draco shut his eyes. He had caused this. All of this.

He opened his eyes to see Astoria close to him, so close her eyelashes were brushing his cheek. She gingerly hugged him and said, "Its' going to be alright."

Draco leaned into the hug. Something about her was so comforting and reassuring. She was youthful yet motherly. She lightly stroked his hair and murmured, "It's OK, Draco. You didn't do anything. It's not your fault. Everything's going to be alright."

He wanted to believe what she said with every fibre of his being. But he couldn't and he knew that. He had ignored the faults of his parents for years, instead choosing to blindly follow their words and where had that got him?

He said, his voice muffled, "No, Astoria. It's my fault."

She pulled away and stared into his eyes for a long time. Then she said, with finality, "No! You may feel guilty but you did not do anything and I will go against the goddamn Wizengamont."

Draco looked away and vehemently said, "You don't understand! The year Dumbledore died-I'm the one who let the Death Eaters into the castle! I was there that night in the Astronomy Tower! I'm the one who disarmed him! If I wasn't there, Dumbledore needn't have died and all this- Voldemort taking over, the Carrows, none of it would've happened! All those people who're dead up there-the Fallen Fifty, they're dead because of me! Creevey, Weasley…" his voice broke before he continued, "All of them dead! Do you know what that can do to anybody's conscience? I'm a monster! A fucking monster and a coward to boot!"

He stared at her eyes which were wide with shock for a few seconds, tears rapidly creating a thin film. He yelled, "I knew it! I know you hate me because who was I kidding? No one is ever going to accept me! And you know what, I deserve it! I'm horrible! I'm despicable! ADMIT IT!"

Astoria touched his cheek gently. He tried to shrug her off but her grip became firmer. She turned him towards herself and looked at him with those goddamn blue eyes. She whispered, "It wasn't your fault. You're not a bad person, Draco. You're just a good person who bad things have happened to. Maybe it's to whom you were born, maybe it's the way you were brought up, maybe it's what you understood, but let me tell you this-You are not bad and any fucker saying different will have to deal with me!"

Draco's eyes welled up with tears. He was used to taunts and hardship from his teachers and peers. All his parents did was spoil and tutor him to be a 'proper little pure blood'. But kindness… that was unheard of.

She was looking into his eyes and he couldn't resist the temptation to stare back. They were blue. Beautiful blue-just a bit of sky blue to feel summery, just a bit of aqua to give it depth but not too much to make it look turquoise and there was a smidge of black giving her a mysterious aura. He could see himself reflected in her eyes-not cool, calm and debonair Malfoy but scared, remorseful and depressed Draco.

Suddenly she hugged him fiercely. He leaned into her touch. She whispered, "Draco, you mean something to people. Don't let your past define you."

He said, his voice croaky, "But I'm me! I'm never going to be accepted! Not after all I did!"

"Bull! You're fine!"

"No, I'm not. You don't know what I did, Astoria. I'm a horrible person!"

She sighed, "Fine, then fucking tell me what you did."

"I shouldn't. I can't just dump all my feelings and wrongdoings on you. You're not my shrink or something. I don't deserve your attention," he said, his voice cracking with emotional strain.

She gently rubbed his back and said, "Try me, Draco. Tell me! Let it all out!"

He choked out, "Don't hate me…please." God, he sounded pathetic. "I was the one who did everything. The year Dumbledore died-it was me. I'm the one who Imperiused Rosmerta and made her give Bell the cursed locket. She could've died. And it would've been my fault. The poisoned mead that Weasley drank, that was me. If Potter wasn't there with the bezoar, he would've died too. And the night Dumbledore died, I was the one who caused it. I left the Death Eaters in. I Disarmed Dumbledore! Without me, he would've lived. Voldemort would never have risen. All those Muggle-Borns beings tormented, all the people who died in this battle-it was my fault. And Creevey, Weasley, Brown, all those kids dead-because of who? Me!"

He was aware that he was half screaming now, "And Crabbe, Crabbe's dead too." She gave a gasp as he said that but he continued, "He died too. Because of me! I never called him Vincent or Vince or anything and he was one of the persons I was closest too. I never met his parents; I never treated him like a person and guess what? HE'S DEAD!"

He broke out into sobs-something he rarely did. Draco knew it, he was being stupid and pathetic and weak. But the strain of all the years and months and weeks of torture and fear were finally coming out and he couldn't stop. He sobbed on Astoria's shoulder, aware of her soft hands rubbing his hair.

She murmured softly, "It's OK, Draco. Let it all out. It's OK. Let it all out-you'll feel better."

And so he sobbed, sobbed uncontrollably but quietly, somehow into her shoulder. When the last sobs were done racking his body, he lifted himself from her shoulder, slightly embarrassed.

She smiled and said, "Salazar's snakes, are you actually embarrassed, you weirdo?"

He gave her a guilty smile and nodded.

She gently touched his hand and replied, "I promise I won't tell. It'll be our secret, 'kay?"

Draco grinned and answered, with a bit of mockery, "'Kay!"

She held out her hand, "So, you want to come up now?I promise no one's going to eat you," She giggled slightly.

He gave a slight beam and exclaimed, "Your faith in my manliness is shocking! I am hurt! I am very much hurt!" He feigned dying of a heart wound while she chortled.

Then, Astoria extended one petite hand his way and asked, "Come up with me?"

He took her hand and his and answered, "My pleasure!"

As Astoria led him out of the Slytherin Common Room, Draco had two thoughts in his mind: Maybe everything would be fine and two-Damn! This woman was something.

So, yeah-not exactly a lot of Drastoria moments but this isn't the end! I'm going to write a sequel which I've already thought of but you know, need to write(ugh!). I hope you liked it. I'm sorry to all the Dramione ( I used to be one of you) and Drarry fans waiting to kill me-Drastoria's too cute!

Same routine, read and review. If you really like it, go ahead favourite or follow it. Constructive criticism appreciated. Flaming sucks, so try not to.

Also, I have two Easter Eggs in this fanfic. They're dialogues or expressions from other HP books. (:)(:) cookies to those who figure it out.

Love,

more-like-reyna

PS: I am working on a Jily, Jeyna and the 2nd chapter of Jackie Molotov's Story. Thank you for being patient with my tardy updating:)