AN: All recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

She hadn't really planned to jump. She was a mature sixth-year, usually more serious than her playful, carefree older sister. She knew it'd be a waste of a pureblood life if she jumped off the Astronomy tower that night. She knew that, but apparently Daphne didn't.

"How could you do that, Astoria?" her sister screeched, almost tearing out her blonde hair as the younger sibling sat stoically on the infirmary bed. "How could you be so selfish? Do you have any idea how Mother and Father would have felt? Did you even care?"

Astoria tuned her out. No one ever understood her, not even her own sister, who she would have said was the person who knew her best. No one cared for her, and they were the ones calling her selfish.

"Do you have any idea how I would have felt?" Daphne's hysterical voice pierced her thoughts again. "Can you imagine how much grief we'd be in, knowing the youngest member of the family, who was actually only pretending to be happy, had killed herself, and no one knew why?"

It was always about them. Them them them. Nothing was about her, for her, with her, anymore. She was always the last in line, chosen for someone else, having no say in what went on in her life.

"Do you have any idea what your friends would have felt?" The incessant screaming was starting to annoy the dark-haired sister. She felt her ire grow with every word of her older sister's rant. "They would be feeling guilty that they couldn't help you! Or Pansy, she's been like another sister to you; you've always gone to her when I wasn't around. How would she have felt if you just offed yourself, and she had no idea why? And what about him?"

Astoria's temper was dangerously close to boiling point. In a low, cold voice, she hissed, "Leave him out of this."

Her sister ignored her. "Do you have any idea how he would have felt? It would have been like a slap to his face if you just jumped without a care in the world!"

Astoria stood up. "But that would've been it, wouldn't it?" she yelled back. "He would have felt nothing more than fake sympathies for a girl he didn't even know! I would have been nothing more than a breeding machine for him, sent to make sure he had an heir to his vast fortune!"

Daphne took a shocked step back. She and Astoria had never really argued, and now, she realized that her younger sister had her own mind, saw thing differently from her, and was willing to fight for it. Astoria had grown up.

"You don't understand," Daphne said softly, shaking her head.

Astoria let out a humorless, cold laugh. "Please, Daph. Don't kid yourself. It's the curse of our heritage: that we never marry for love. We always marry for money, prestige, fame, name. Draco Malfoy doesn't even know me. All he knows is my name, my face, and I can keep his bloodline pure."

She faced her sister with an icy stare. "And you know what? I don't love him, either. When Mother and Father decided I'd be the ideal wife for the Malfoy heir, I never got to say anything. And you know what's really unfair, Daph?"

The dark haired girl's face twisted in a snarl. "That I was the one chosen, reserved, for him, when you, my dear older sister, get to continue your friends-with-benefits relationship with Theo Nott."

Astoria turned her back on her anguished sister, and climbed back on to the infirmary bed, rolling on her side until she heard her sister's steps heading out of the Hospital Wing. Astoria let out a sigh, and closed her eyes wearily.

"You're supposed to marry Draco?" a soft voice asked. Astoria, who hadn't been expecting an audience to their shouting match, sat up quickly and turned around. Lying on the bed in the corner, hidden by shadow, was Blaise Zabini.

Seeing him breached the dam of tears and frustration within Astoria, and she started sobbing. Swiftly, Blaise stood up and walked over to her, his right arm in a sling. He circled his left arm around Astoria's shaking shoulders, and hugged her to him.

Usually, Blaise was a proud Slytherin. But seeing the younger Greengrass sibling crying her heart out broke something in him, took a chink out of his armour. She'd always been something of a soft spot for him.

"Everything's going to be okay," he whispered, leaning his chin on top of her head. His left hand stroked her hair, but his facade was slowly weakening, the shield around him breaking, as his heartbeat became slower and heavier.

"It's not, Blaise," Astoria whispered, the tears still in her voice. "Nothing's going to be okay."

He gently pulled her from him. He stared into her tear-filled eyes. "Don't ever say that," he growled.

Without another word, he pushed her face towards hers, and kissed her. For a minute, there was silence, as Blaise finally dropped his shield, and lay, breakable, at her feet. When he pulled away, Astoria's eyes were closed and her mouth pinched, pain clear on her face.

"It's why I don't love Draco, why I don't want to marry him," she whispered. Then she opened her eyes, and Blaise could clearly see the sharp pain in those dark green depths. "Because I'm in love with you. I always have been, ever since you came to my coming-out ball."

Blaise's heartbeat quickened as disbelief coursed through him. He, too, had fallen in love with her that night. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly. "Why didn't you tell anyone? Why did you never even look at me for longer than necessary?"

She looked away, tears threatening again, but Blaise wanted answers. He pulled on her arm, demanding her to look at him. "I fell in love with you that night as well, Astoria," he growled. "I tried getting closer to you, but you've ignored everything I've ever done for you. Why?"

Tears pouring down her face, she shouted, "Because I got engaged the night before that, you prick!"

He let go of her arm as if he'd been stung. Astoria held her head in her hands, the tears escaping her palms' restraints and dripping down her wrists.

"I was engaged before I could even celebrate my coming-of-age," she sobbed. "I don't want Draco. He's like his father; he rules with an iron fist, there's no place in his life for a beloved woman, only for a serving wife. And I hate it."

She tried to stem the flow of tears by drying her eyes against her wrists, but Blaise grabbed onto one to demand her attention again.

"I've got the perfect idea, Astoria," he breathed, something fierce subtly throbbing in his voice. "We love each other. Let's elope."

Her mouth hung open as she stared at him, dumbstruck. "But my parents..."

"They'll only disown you if you marry a Mudblood, and I'm as far from a Mudblood as a wizard can possibly be." His eyes shone in the darkness as fervor burned within them. "Think about it. They won't be able to say a word. My mother is a Lestrange, and through her sister-in-law Bellatrix, she's connected to the Malfoys."

Astoria flinched on the last name, but the tearing feeling she could feel in her chest had stopped. As she looked into Blaise's eyes, she felt hope stirring within her.

"That's it," she whispered ecstatically. "Oh, you're a genius, Blaise!"

And before he could reply, she crashed her lips unto his. Maybe, finally, Astoria's future was brighter, and she could look forward to it instead of dreading it. And whatever obstacle would trouble her, she knew she wouldn't be alone in facing them.

The next morning, a thoroughly windswept owl flew into the Greengrass manor, followed by sudden silence.

"Blake, let her," came the soft, soothing voice of the lady of the manor. "Perhaps we let the sound of gold in Lucius Malfoy's pocket sound louder than our daughter's thoughts."

"She should know we only did it because we wanted the best future lifestyle for her," Blake Greengrass replied gruffly.

"I know, Blake," Caylea Greengrass crooned, still soft, still pacifying. "But at least the Zabinis are well connected and have a substantial amount of wealth."

Blake Greengrass humphed.

Finally: "I fully expect a dower greater than Draco Malfoy's."

"Blake."

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AN:

Originally written for misswhiteblack's This Is A S t r a n g e Challenge, but then I lost inspiration for it and stopped writing it. I decided to just get over the agonising muse-less-ness of this story, and just wrote it.

The result: Meh.

Review your thoughts and opinions.