Disclaimer: Characters belong to JKR, song is Scotty McCreery's Out of Summertime :) I own Olivine, though. And Daphne's summer house (ha, I wish).

Dedicated to Drishti (Skandar-Loves-Redvines), because it's her birthday and she's an awesomely amyzing friend of mine :) Happy birthday, Dri! I hope it's marvelous, and I hope you like this enough for it to make your special day even more fantastic :D

and i've never seen days go by so fast
a little more sand slipping through the glass

-:-

She's not a princess, not really, and maybe that's why he falls in love with her.

-:-

When he first meets her, he has a pumpkin juice stain on his shirt.

(He remembers this because the very first thing she says to him is, "You have a pumpkin juice stain on your shirt.")

Draco blinks at her, trying to recall why this little, impish blond girl with bright, apple-green eyes seems so familiar. He doubts if he's seen her around Hogwarts – she doesn't look like the type of girl he'd really notice – but something about her long golden curls and the tilt of her nose seem oddly recognizable to him.

"Here," she says, a small smile playing on her lips as she hands him a dainty little blue handkerchief. "You might want to use this to clean it up."

"Oh," Draco answers oh-so-eloquently and accepts the handkerchief, looking down at his shirt to realize that she's right. "Thank you. Um, who are you?"

"Astoria," she replies lightly, "Astoria Greengrass. I'm Daphne's sister."

That would explain it.

Draco glances up from cleaning his shirt, ready to ask her why she's talking to him, only to find she's disappeared back into the crowd of partygoing purebloods.

It takes another summer before he sees her again.

-:-

When they next meet, it's at Daphne's brand new summer house in France, and she's invited all her friends to come visit for a few weeks. Summer in France means long, languid days watching sunshine melt across blue skies and bright, breezy nights spent laughing and joking and counting glittering constellations in the depths of the night sky.

Summer in France means getting to know Astoria, means smiling at her and laughing with her, means slowly falling heads over heels in love with her.

"You're very pretty, you know that?" he remarks casually to her one day out on the balcony of the house, early on in their vacation. It's just the two of them out there, surrounded by swirling breezes and rustling trees and the bright, heavenly glow of moonshine upon their world. It's one night from many that lets her steal his heart.

"Thank you," she replies, just as primly and properly as a pureblood witch ought to, folding her hands on the stone of the railing and looking down at the gardens below.

Draco joins her by the railing, abandoning his glass of wine at the table beside the door. "You don't sound like you believe me," he tells her, more than a little curious.

"Oh, no," Astoria laughs, "I do believe you. Why wouldn't I? My whole life, I've been told I'm pretty. Fair skin, long hair, bright eyes, pure blood – what's not pretty about that?"

"Then what's the matter?" he presses, genuinely interested, absently raising a hand to brush a gold curl out of her face, the way he'd done so many times with Pansy's darker locks back when they were dating.

Unlike Pansy, though, she doesn't let him, pulling her head away before he can touch her. "Nothing," she sighs. "It's just that pretty is all I've ever been called. Not smart or funny or bright or artsy. Not spunky or outdoorsy, like Daphne. Just pretty. It seems so insufficient."

Draco stares at her, dumbfounded. "You don't want to be called pretty."

"Not really."

She offers him one last smile before turning around and heading back inside, leaving him standing there alone with his thoughts for company.

-:-

When she finally lets him see her sketchbook, the first thing he says is, "Wow, you're a brilliant artist."

Astoria sends him a bemused look when he says this. "You've…only seen one of my drawings," she points out validly.

Draco flashes her a grin. "Yes, but it's brilliant," he says matter-of-factly, winking at her. She may not be quite like other girls he's flirted with in the past, but he'll be damned if he can't charm her, too. And it's not like he's lying, either; he honestly is impressed with her beautiful rendering of Hogwarts.

"Thank you," she says after a pause, surveying him thoughtfully. "This isn't because of that conversation we had about me not wanting to be called pretty, is it?"

Draco coughs. "Um, no, not at all."

Astoria laughs. "You are unbelievable."

Grinning, he flips to the next page and whistles in appreciation at her drawing of a phoenix feather quill doodling phoenixes in a notebook. "Quite the striking image here," he tells her.

"Thanks," she says, and her smile is as genuine and dazzling as he's ever seen.

-:-

When they first kiss, it's on top of a dragon.

He had his mother send the family dragon – a Welsh Green named Olivine – so his friends could see her. After taking everybody else for a ride, she's the only one left who hasn't met Olivine, and by the time she approaches him in the gardens where he's feeding Olivine, stars are glittering in the velvety-black sky and nighttime breezes spin around them.

"Hey, Tori," he greets, his voice soft to match the peace and tranquility of the nature around him. "You wanna go for a ride?"

Astoria smiles at him, hugging her blue coat tighter around her figure to defend from the wind. "Isn't it a little late? I just came to meet your famous dragon."

Draco grins. "It's never too late for a dragon ride. Hop on!"

It takes some persuading, but he eventually manages to coax Astoria onto Olivine's back, and Olivine into the sky. For a few moments, he can feel nothing except Astoria's warmth behind him and the steady comfort of Olivine's scales beneath him, nothing except the wind and the stars, nothing except pure, unadulterated joy.

When she finally lands, Draco doesn't slide off immediately. Instead he turns to face her, a grin on his face, and finds her smiling at him. If he's honest, it makes his heart beat at triple its normal rate.

"That was amazing," she says softly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replies easily, working up his courage, and then leans down to kiss her.

She tastes like melon and moonshine and happiness; it's the best summer of his life.

-:-

if the days had only stayed that long
and those autumn leaves didn't have to fall

Author's Notes: If you read it, I really hoped you liked it! And Dri, I hope you loved this, because I love you :) Please drop me a review to tell me what you thought, guys; it'd make my day! :D

And don't favorite without reviewing, please and thank you.