Chapter One
" I told you!" Tears streamed down Astoria's face, and she swiped at them, embarrassed at the emotion. It would have been better if she could have been cold and efficient with her words. Slicing her mother into pieces with well-placed jabs, and witty snips about their doleful job parenting her.
And if she could have hurt her mother.
But no, always, always in these arguments with her mother, she was the only one she ever hurt.
" I can't. I won't marry somebody I don't love, and you know that! I'd rather die! I'd rather leave him at the alter, and you can marry him for all I bloody well care!" Astoria stamped her foot petulantly, and immediately regretted it, wondering if that action was too childish.
There was silence, but Astoria dared not fill it. Dare not even think abou backing down underneath her mother's horrible, snake-like gaze.
Her mother's black eyes were focused on her, unyielding, unforgiving. She was gritting her teeth, and Astoria closed her eyes, preparing herself for what was coming. " Astoria Greengrass, stop behaving like a stupid child, and do as you're told. Did you not hear our reasons?"
Yes. Yes, she had, she wanted to scream. Of course she had heard her mother's reasons. A thousand times. The same reasons that got Daphne shipped off to some Durmstrang pureblood bloke. The same reasons that had started this conversation a million times! Did she think that she was an idiot?
That is what she wanted to say.
But she said nothing.
" That War, that godforsaken War, ruined us, Astoria Greengrass!" She inflicted Astoria's last name like a weapon, using it to remind Astoria how much she had given her. She had given her life. " We have no money, no connections, we are looked down on in the Wizarding World! Your father invested everything in . . . in . . . You-Know-Who."
Something inside Astoria snapped at this point, and words started coming forth, even though she had wanted to remain silent.
She laughed humorlessly. " There was a time when you called him Voldemort, and laughed at me when I was terrified of him. Now look at you."
Her mother didn't respond, merely turned her lip up in a sneer. " You need to marry somebody of honor, somebody pureblood-"
" An honorable pureblood? I haven't heard of such a thing. An honorable blood-traitor, yes, but a pureblood? Not after this War."
" Somebody of money," Her mother finished. " And you will please him. He may be the only thing stopping your father from utter hell."
Please him. Like she was some kind of prostitute. Some kind of house-elf to be ordered around, and to made to beg. Like she wasn't a Greengrass, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Please him. In his nightmares.
But her father . . .
Astoria glanced at her father now, hoping for a sign. For a release, a way out of this misery. But he was staring blankly at the wall behind her. Of course. Silly of her to try and trust father to stand up to his wife about anything. Everybody knew that her father was no more the head of the house, than Tilly, their house elf.
But still. She loved him. She could see the sorrow in his eyes. The way he was biting his lip. He wanted to say something, but couldn't. He never had been able to stand up to Aster. Not like Daphne could, or even Astoria. He didn't have her blood in her, and so, he couldn't look her in the eye.
She would say what had to be said, because there was nobody else to say it.
" Mother." She looked her mother full in the eye now, and willed determination and steel into her every word. " I will never, ever marry a man that you could possibly approve of. Honorable? You don't know the meaning of the word. Pureblood? The day I marry into one of the remaining pureblood families, is the day you Imperio me, and sign me off yourself!"
There was a nasty glint in her mother's eye, that Astoria didn't like. Like the thought of Imperio-ing her own daughter, wasn't too nasty a thought.
" I have already picked the man for you, darling."
" Tell him I'm sorry then. For resigning him to a life of bachelorhood." She smirked, but felt her stomach drop. This couldn't be real. Her mother . . . always got her way. Always. It was the way of things. Like the earth went around the sun, her mother always got her way.
" He's handsome, intelligent, a pureblood . . ." She closed her eyes, and felt her heart stop. This couldn't be happening. Not him. Anybody but him. For Merlin's sake, she would marry Theodore Nott, the imperious bastard, over- no. She wouldn't do it.
" Don't say it. Please don't say it." Her voice cracked.
" And after the War, his family still, miraculously had a fortune left!"
" Mother!"
" I've already talked to his parents, and they agree that this will be for the best." Her mother reached down and patted Astoria's head, where she sat, fuming on a chair, her back, board-straight.
" I will not marry that arrogant, ignorant, muggle-hating-"
" Your betrothal ceremony will be at dawn at Malfoy Manor." Her mother turned and left the room, with a flick of her dark green robes.
It was as if all breath escaped her lungs. She couldn't breathe. Not, she wouldn't breathe, she physically couldn't, and she gasped feebly for oxygen, fumbling behind her for the velvet surface of her father's stiff armchair.
Astoria collapsed backwards into her chair, her muscles aching for no reason, and the tears starting to pound in her head again. But she wouldn't let them fall. Over her dead body would she let them fall. She would deal with this. Like a Greengrass. Like Daphne would.
" Astoria, darling-" It was her father's pensive voice, and she stared up at him, almost wildly, begging for a way out. Any kind of release, any!
" Yes, father?"
" Your mother is right. That War did ruin us. I would never, ever force a loveless marriage on you, sweetheart-"
Yes! He would end the contract. Destroy the betrothal. She would be free, she knew it!
" -But I'm afraid there are more important matters. Please, Astoria, if you love me at all, at all! Please, marry the Malfoy boy. Please. He may not be so bad. It doesn't have to be a loveless marriage."
She stared at him blankly, her mouth slightly open, his figure blurring for the tears.
" Astoria, darling? Please promise me. It's not that money is more important to me! But dignity, Astoria! Heritage, and honor! We must do this to aid our family and all our descendants. Please." His voice was trembling, and he would not meet her eye.
Several deep breaths. She must regain control of herself. There was a Quaffle in her throat, she was sure of it.
" Father . . ."
He looked up. " For the family honor, Astoria?"
" Father . . ."
It took her a few moments to get the words out.
" If it is the only thing that can be done. The only thing. I will marry him. He is a vile beast, father. He was a bully when I went to Hogwarts, and a coward in the War. I do not love him, and I doubt I will even come to like him. But if I must . . ."
" You must!" Her father's voice was pleading, not demanding, but she still felt helpless.
" Then I will. For you, father. Only for you."
" Of course, darling, of course!"
Her father's face filled with glee again, and he was almost prancing when he left the room. " You have saved us all, Astoria! Saved our family!"
Astoria groaned, and sunk lower into the chair. If she had saved her whole family, why did it feel like she was drowning?
Dinner that night was, uncharacteristically, a pleasant affair. For her parents that is.
Her father piled food on his plate, and boasted about his Ministry job, and the esteem he could claim, when his youngest daughter was married away.
Her mother daintily refused second helpings, and gossiped greedily about the Malfoys, and Mrs. Malfoy's latest dresses, and how Astoria must be at the height of fashion.
Astoria ate nothing, and felt less. She was numb. She was nothing. Just a endless, floating, cloud of nothingness. She rather liked that image. If she were a cloud, nobody would think of forcing her to marry a Malfoy. She could just float off wherever she wanted . . . .
" And the waist on the pink evening gown! Absolutely riveting, the design. And oh, I wish I knew her diet, but she can't be more than twenty inches around! I would kill for that waist, absolutely kill-"
Astoria shut her mother out. Her mother had two moods. Furious and demanding, and gossipy and enthusiastic. She wasn't sure which she hated more, but at least her mother wasn't hitting her when she was gabbing on about dresses and parties.
" May I please be excused, father?"
Her tone was polite, but she interrupted her mother. Aster drew herself up in her chair, and looked scornfully at Astoria.
But before she could say anything- " Of course, dear, please."
It was the closest her father had ever come to disobeying her mother, and she loved him for it. She made a quick get-away to her room, where she lay on her bed and daydreamed of a time before this.
Before Daphne left. Before the War. Before . . . well, there never really was a before. Her mother had always been horrid. Draco Malfoy had always been in her life, spoiled child, to sniveling boy, to arrogant teenager, to bitter young man. Daphne and her father- they were her two strongholds. Her rocks.
Though her father . . .
He was not a strong man.
But she would be strong enough for the both of them. She would earn her dowry, pleasing her Betrothed, and she would pay off the wrinkles surrounding his eyes.
It was small comfort, but she still hugged it close to her, as she drifted off to sleep.
Astoria's dreams that night were filled with monsters, and blood, and the screams of the dying on the fateful day at Hogwarts, three years ago. She had only been fifteen when it happened. They had evacuated, but like many of the underage students, she had sneaked back to witness Harry Potter's last battle. Not that she had fought. Against her relatives, and acquaintances, and family friends? No. She had merely watched. She regretted that now.
Her dreams were littered by the Dark Lord's evil laugh. Green flashes. Bellatrix LeStrange cackling, and hexes and spells flashing everywhere. Monsters. There were monsters in the forest. She was in the forest, jumping, running forward, but she couldn't move. Not fast enough.
Werewolves in wolf form, roaring and leaping closer and closer to her. She screamed, and pushed her legs harder than ever, but she couldn't get away, her legs stuck in slow motion, and they were jumping closer!
The werewolves . . . All the werevolves had blonde hair. Blonde hair and grey eyes. One opened his blood-stained jaws and howled, and then leaped at her, and-
She woke up with a gasp, her mother, Aster Greengrass, shaking her shoulder. " Astoria! Astoria, you numskull, wake up!"
Astoria stared blearily around, looking at her mother in confusion. She could feel her curly black hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, the sheets tangled around her legs. " Wha-?"
" Are you trying to embarrass me?! Your screaming is waking up the whole damn house!" Her mother bodily lifted her daughter's slim frame from the bed, and dropped her on the floor. " The Betrothal Wizard is here!"
Of course. Of course. The betrothal. How could she have forgotten? The dreams meant nothing. She shook them from her head, as her mother yanked her up, pulling her nightgown over her head.
" What do you mean by lying abed? I knew it. I knew you were always the weaker of my two daughters. You are a failure and a disgrace!"
Astoria nodded dumbly, as she tried to help her mother pull her nice black dress robes around her naked body. A few spells fixed her hair and sleep-filled face, and then her mother was dragging her down the marble stairs.
And there he was.
Or rather, there was a fat, pudgy man, the Betrothal Wizard, she assumed. But also . . . Draco. Staring at her coldly, with little interest. His parents, Lucius and Narcissa were standing on either shoulder of him.
He hadn't changed much since his Hogwarts days, though she had never hung out with him much. He was in her sister Daphne's crowd, and she had avoided them like the plague. Daphne was great to her. Sweet and sarcastic, and made her feel like a teenager. Like a cool kid. But the others . . . Millicent, and Pansy, and Vincent . . . They had made her feel like a stupid little first-year. Draco had been the worst.
He had grown taller, she noticed vaguely. Some fact to hold on to in this tornado of goings-on and happenings.
His hair was brushed straight back from his high, arisocratic forehead, leaving only sharp edges, no soft lines. His jagged cheekbones and pointed chin, gave an otherwordly feel to his silver eyes, and straight, thin lips.
" Ah, dearest Narcissa!" Aster stepped forward, and air-kissed both sides of the Mrs. Malfoy's face. She returned the favor, and they stepped apart, leaving only cold air between them.
There was no love lost between the Greengrass family and the Malfoy family. Simmering about our own family's ruin, Aster Greengrass had a hard time not feeling bitter towards the obviously wealthy Malfoy family, who were even bigger supporters of Voldemort than we were.
Astoria took the moment to examine, not Draco, but Lucius. He had gone to Azkaban, that was true, but had managed a quick release due to his family's excellent lawyer and, as the rumor went, several large bribes. But in actuality, it seemed, he had never really left. His hair was long and thinned, his face haggard and worn, his eyes tired, yet determined.
She had never seen anybody who had gone to Azkaban. He looked . . . horrible, she supposed. She couldn't really remember what he looked like before.
His eyes flashed up to meet hers, and she was struck still for a second.
Gunmetal grey, piercing her to the bone.
" Good, good, all is good!" The Betrothal Wizard said, and Astoria jumped, turning to see the pudgy man's fingers, rifling through several documents that her father had handed him. Nicholas Greengrass looked resigned, and tired. He wouldn't meet her eyes.
" Daddy?" She whispered, and it echoed embarrassingly in the empty silence. He still wouldn't look at her. " Please, daddy . . ." She stepped for him, and was met by the firm arm of her mother, her tight, thin fingers snatching at Astoria's arm, pinching the flesh between her long fingernails.
" Astoria, behave!"
Astoria knew that if the Malfoys had not been there, her mother would have slapped her. Aster Greengrass was used to getting what she wanted, and while Daphne had interfered in most of her mother's 'discipline' sessions, Astoria still bore the marks of some of their encounters.
She yanked her arm out of her mothers, her white arms covered with whiter marks from her mother's fingernails. They turned red, like scars on her skin.
" So sorry for my daughter's disturbance . . ." Aster said smoothly, and Astoria glared at her mother's shoes. " She of course wanted to wish her father a happy good morning, didn't you darling!" She grimaced at Astoria. Astoria said nothing.
" The papers are in order?" Narcissa snapped, and Astoria's muscles tensed. " Good, then let us begin."
The ceremony was short and awful. Not a word was said but the Betrothal Wizard's unromantic nasally voice reciting the betrothal words for them to follow.
Gold light threaded its way out of the Betrothal Wizard's wand, and slowly looped around Astoria's still hands, pulling her closer and closer to Draco, until her hands rested in his. They were cold as ice, and tightened mechanically around her much smaller ones. She looked up at him, and his eyes were closed.
" Repeat after me- I, Draco Malfoy, do take this woman, Astoria Greengrass, to be my betrothed. May I protect her from evil, serve her with honor and love, and keep her pure until her wedding day."
Draco repeated the words tonelessly. He didn't stumble over a single word, and he didn't meet her gaze once.
Then it was Astoria's turn. As she followed suit, her heart skipped a beat. This was real. This was forever. There was almost no way to break a Betrothal Law once it had been completed. Her tongue stumbled over the word love, and she lurched it out, seeing her mother seethe on her left.
It wasn't like she had a choice anymore. It wasn't like her mother wouldn't track her down. She would have to run. Run after the ceremony, run far, far away, where her family didn't matter, and her own disownment wouldn't matter.
But her father. Those three words kept stopping her escape plans. She would never climb out the window on a rope made of sheets, because her father.
And they were done, suddenly. Astoria realized this too late, and saw, to her great embarrassment, and anger, that the gold light had disappeared, and she was still clutching Draco's hands. She released them instantly, wiping them surreptitiously on her dress robes.
" You may kiss your Betrothed . . ." The Wizard said, and seeing the cold glance Draco shot him. " . . . Or not . . . Either way, really."
" Do you have the ring?" Lucius asked his son, and Draco took a clear, glass box out of his dress robe pockets. Inside was a thin silver band, encrusted with strangely-cut emeralds. It must be the Malfoy Betrothal band. As Draco was their only son, it would automatically go to him.
Before she realized what was happening, his thin, cold fingers had grabbed her shaking hand, and willing her fingers to stop moving, Astoria watched as the ring slipped easily onto her ring finger, magically realigning itself to its new owner's finger.
" Oh, it's beautiful!" Her mother said, and hugged her daughter quickly. " Oh, it's just divine, and perfect!" Nobody else was saying anything, and the Betrothal Wizard cleared his throat.
" Well, if that is all, I must be off!" He disapparated with a neat pop, taking all of the formality with him. The Malfoys stood in a defensive triangle.
" It was lovely doing . . . this, with you, Aster, Nicholas." Narcissa pointedly ignored Astoria, and turned to exit. Lucius followed suit, after wishing her parents both a good day, and kissing Astoria's hand, which thankfully, had stopped shaking.
Then Draco turned towards me, and Astoria had a sudden fear that he would kiss her on the mouth. Please don't, please don't, please- But he only pressed his lips gently to her hand, and she felt a sudden bereavement. And . . . something else. His lips were warm, and her fingers tingled.
Then he was gone, leaving only Astoria and her mother and her father and a ring on her finger that she had never wanted.