Loveless

Daph barges into the Janus Thickey Ward hall like she is Boudicca herself leading her people into battle. 'How is she? Where are they keeping her?' Draco waves his hand in the direction of the room. '6P. The usual. She’s awake, but very weak. I also made her cry, so let’s schedule when are you going to Avada me. I have a vacant slot on Wednesday.' Daphne flaps her mouth, clearly unsure which problem to address first. Then rolls her eyes and storms off for room 6P. 'Tori, darling, he’s a nob, and I’ve told you,' she coos, and that’s the last thing he hears before the door closes. She’s like a mama bear to Astoria, and it’s truly endearing. What wins him over even more — despite all the things she often says, Daphne is surprisingly supportive of their relationship. Draco is truly thankful that for everything he’s unable to give his bride in terms of affection she has a sister at the ready. Well, maybe not everything. Draco heaves a sigh. Asta promised she’ll be fine in a loveless marriage. He’d asked time and again, and she promised. Was she lying to him? Or to herself? He shuts his eyes and tries to find words for their upcoming reconciliation. Because it’s inevitable: they will reconcile or else he wouldn’t even know what’s next. 'How’s it going?!' Draco jumps up and tears his eyes open. Daphne plops next to him on the sofa and grins, an obnoxious imp she is, scaring the living daylight out of him! 'What?' 'Eating yourself up.' He drags his hands over his face. 'What did she say?' Suddenly, Daph turns her undivided attention to the state of her manicure. He knows her enough to wait patiently. 'Not much,' she finally announces. 'Mostly that she doesn’t deserve you.' Draco doesn’t even understand how these words assemble together. It’s as if she speaks a foreign language. 'Wha-' Daph leaps up from the sofa and covers her ears deliberately. 'Don’t you both try to drag me into your nonsense! Gods know, you’re my friend and she’s my sister, but just don’t!' She starts for the door, but Draco manages to catch her by the wrist. Apparently, years as a Seeker haven’t been for naught. 'Daphne, wait. Can I ask just one thing?' She turns back to him, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder. 'Fire away.' 'Did you know about our betrothal?' She snorts. 'Of course. Mommy told us both the day they’ve cut a deal with your parents.' Draco arches a brow at her. 'And you didn’t tell me…' 'Oh, I wanted to, but-' She lets out an exaggerated sigh. 'Do you remember how we knocked heads at the very beginning of our Eighth year?' He does. They were this close to throwing hexes at each other, and now he can’t even recall what was the reason for the row. 'Hard to forget. So, you couldn’t talk to me because we weren’t on speaking terms…' 'Not exactly. We had that fight the very day I learned about your family’s proposal. And I came to talk about that, but you were an arse and I was even worse, and everything grew out of proportion in seconds, so, naturally, I couldn’t talk of marriage in the end.' With each word she’s grown more sullen, but then she shrugged it off and smiled. 'Well, everything turned out wonderful because of that quarrel, so bless our stupidity, four founders.' 'Wonderful, huh?' He darts his gaze to the faceless white door that has Astoria behind it. And while he isn’t looking, unaware and exposed, Daph hugs him out of nowhere. 'You came to love Tori. And she you. Would that ever have happened if you knew about that deal between our families?' she whispers, resting her head on his shoulder. Draco clenches his teeth. Love. They all say that, but how can they know? He doesn’t have a clue how a love should start, but certainly not like whatever they have. Well, Merlin knows he cares for her, he wouldn’t feel like he’s on the verge of death right now if he didn’t, but love? He’s not capable of that. *** Dear Astoria, I’ve wronged you horribly, and you have every right to burn this letter without even opening it. But if you’re reading this, then it’s not yet burnt and I’ve already received more of your benevolence than I deserve. If you can find it in you to endure a conversation with me after the outrageous shit that I’d let myself pull off — I’m begging you for a chance to explain myself. I’ll come at any day and time to any place of your choosing. Desperately hoping this letter won’t die in flames. Yours, Draco He heaved a sigh and plopped his signet into the sealing wax. After he finally acknowledged his own cowardice back in Sixth year, he tried to fight it. But on either side of the war he’d stayed a coward no matter what he did. Now he’d made peace with that part of him. A coward wasn’t necessarily a bad person, he thought. Pathetic, but not outright bad. But of course, writing to a girl after he fucking ran away from her practically with his pants down wasn’t even remotely as scary as murdering a living person or diving into roaring Fiendfyre to rescue your idiot friend. So he mustered up all of his courage and squeezed out a stonking five sentences of coherent thoughts onto parchment. Still, he didn’t know how he would utter a single word of his thoroughly rehearsed explanation if she really invited him for a talk. Draco opened the window for his owl to come and go freely and slumped onto the bed. The week that had passed since the soiree had been agony. He had spent his days hovering over an avalanche of crumpled parchment, and nights suffocating in feverish dreams featuring Astoria’s thighs. Or trying to wank. Not much success in that department, since every time he felt like coming, his mind kindly offered Draco the image of her, dishevelled and lost, watching him go. Well, he did send a letter. If she had a heart… He groaned and rolled over on his back. A stripe of sunlight crawled onto the wall, and Draco fixed his stare on it. The day promised to be endless. He came out of it, when his eagle-owl landed on the table and knocked an inkwell over. The sunlight stripe was long gone from the wall, and Draco’s bedroom was drowning in darkness. 'Lumos Maxima.' The bird turned away from the bright flash and made a disgruntled noise. Draco sat up and swept his eyes over the room, but there were no signs of an envelope anywhere. 'No luck, Sterling?' he asked the owl after plunking back down. Sterling made another noise and tried to peck Draco’s hand. 'Ah. Food. Of course, I’ll feed you, it’s not your fault.' He accioed a snuffbox and transfigured it into a mouse, which Sterling accepted gladly. While he had his time with the dinner, Draco watched absentmindedly until a peculiar white stripe on the owl’s leg caught his eye. It was a thin strip of parchment… Astoria had answered! It took every drop of his resilience to wait for Sterling to finish his meal. He even managed to scratch the owl on the forehead, which he rarely did. After all, Sterling was his first pet and Draco had never been good with animals. 'Now, let me see what she says,' he murmured and finally got his hands on Astoria’s note. Tomorrow, noon, Floo straight to my rooms. As soon as Draco stepped out of the fireplace, all the efforts he made not to flap went down the drain. Astoria was already there (which he more or less prepared himself for) without a stitch of clothing on her (which he had fantasised about, but wouldn’t really expect) other than his shirt collar (which he couldn’t imagine in his wildest dreams). 'Hi,' she said indifferently and gestured at the second armchair. He managed only a small nod in greeting and proceeded to the armchair, his legs stiff as pokers. And not only his legs. After he finally sat down, placing his hands in his lap in a sorry attempt to hide his boner, it became clear he had to raise his head. Looking her in the eye was impossible right now, and he couldn’t let himself stare at her naked body, even though her legs were crossed and her arms folded, hiding her bare breasts. So, after a short surge of panic, he glued his gaze to the collar on her neck. His shirt collar. 'You begged for me to hear your excuses. I’m here, but I won’t waste my whole day on this,' Astoria said, while Draco watched his collar flutter on her neck. 'I can’t love.' This wasn’t what he rehearsed. He had prepared a short version of his speech in case Astoria would give him some ridiculous time limit, but it still hadn’t been that straightforward. 'And? None of us can, Draco.' 'No!' He raised his eyes to meet hers at last, but she was studying the stucco on the ceiling. 'No, I don’t mean that I’m not allowed or I don’t have such a luxury. Thing is, I literally lack the ability.' He took a deep breath and started from scratch. 'Do you know the side effects of Amortentia?' Her head was still turned away, but he saw her eyes dart to him for a brief moment. 'Are you implying that one of your parents had been on Amortentia when you were conceived?' she asked, and his hands went cold. He’d never heard that actually said out loud, after all. 'You’re sharp,' he mumbled with a painful smile. 'I’m a Ravenclaw.' She finally looked at him openly, and he had to make a serious effort to not avert his eyes. Her gaze was still guarded, but not defiant like before. 'It’s so bizarre, you know?' she started in a quiet voice after a while. 'Gradually understanding that our parents weren’t these prim and proper pureblood scions they always try to mould us into… That they’d been young and stupid. And they had longed to be loved to the point of plying their assigned spouse with a dangerous potion.' She started making small gestures — her hand waved, her shoulders shrugged — and Draco had to remind himself that he was here to talk and not feast his eyes on the peach coloured halo of her nipple that came into view after a careless motion. He made an effort to assemble a coherent sentence. 'Not exactly. Mother, she- She was taking it herself.' Astoria scoffed and licked her lips. 'Willingly?' Draco stopped his eyes from following her tongue. 'She brewed it herself, too.' 'You can’t be serious.' She leaned to him, too stunned to hold her indifferent demeanour. 'No, she did!' He leaned to her in turn. 'She was… Well. The reason isn’t the point, but she wanted a love marriage no matter what.' 'Wait, I’m too intrigued now!' She flailed her arms, baring her chest completely. 'You can’t just say something this barking mad and then give zero explanation.' Draco slumped back into the armchair and looked up deliberately, determined to stay civil with her this time. 'See, it’s not my secret to share.' He spoke slowly, and it helped to calm the arousal. 'In truth, I shouldn’t have said anything about Amortentia at all, but you deserved to know.' 'That you are entirely blameless in that pathetic escape?' His eyes darted back to Astoria. Her lips curved in a sarcastic smile. 'That you’ve done nothing wrong.' He whispered and winced at how soppy that sounded. 'Of course I’m not blameless! I should have thought of that at least before vanishing your underwear… But I just went on like I usually do until it struck me.' 'What?' She leaned in further, stretching her arms over her knees. His gaze swept lower despite his will, but before falling on her breast it fixed on something unexpected. The skin on her inner forearms and further up was marked with dozens of scars. Draco froze and almost felt Potter’s curse all over his body. 'That I could hurt you,' he croaked. She burst with laughter and folded her arms again, the scars hiding from view. 'And you think you didn’t? Running away without a single word like you saw the Dark Lord rise! Leaving a girl alone in someone’s garden and knickerless!' She leapt up from her armchair, as if to demonstrate what knickerless meant. 'With your last words being “I can’t do this with you!” You honestly think that didn’t hurt?!' Draco rose too, ignoring the offensively indecent state of his fly piece. 'No, please, no! I was ruthless, I get that! But if you-' he stuttered, made a step to her and squeezed her bare shoulders. 'If you fell for me, wouldn’t it hurt a million times more? With me being as I am? ' Astoria’s eyes widened; she shrugged his hands off and turned away. He had to go on, he knew that. 'I was an idiot and a coward. I wish those were also Amortentia’s consequences, but that’s just me. And I’m not saying you must forgive me, no, but I don’t want us to be awkward around each other every time we happen to attend the same party.' Draco heard her sigh and take a sharp breath, as if she was preparing to scream at him, but then she took her seat silently. He clearly tired her and overstayed his questionable welcome. 'So that’s that. I only came to say I didn’t want to cause you pain,' he summarised and started for the Floo, when she spoke at last. 'You know, back then you were causing me so much pleasure that I wouldn’t have minded a little pain afterwards.' Draco felt a jolt in his cock. He’d just gotten used to the view of her naked body, he had even prepared to leave, and now she was talking of pleasure! A merciless woman… 'Pleasure, you say?' He chuckled and turned back to her. 'Mhmm. Especially with your tongue,' she drawled, crossing her legs again. 'I really enjoyed that.' 'Why were you trying to close your legs shut all the time then?' All the smugness washed out of her expression in a flash. 'Well, I- It’s- It’s a girl thing, you know? At that time my experience mostly came down to entertaining myself on my own, and, well, clenching one’s thighs is an easier way to get off. The only one I’d known before you got on one knee, like you were fucking proposing, and started snogging my lower lips!' It sounded like the pleasure part offended her more than his ugly leg bail. 'You didn’t come then, did you?' She snorted and gave him an indulgent look. 'I didn’t. But I certainly felt the… escalation. So after I’d let out all the bitter tears that night, I tried to caress myself with thighs wide open. And I really enjoyed that, so thank you.' Her pose was relaxed, her gaze placid and her body wickedly seductive. 'Well, may I show you how it was supposed to go that first time?' he said without thinking and hurried to add, 'As an apology.' Astoria raised her arms, exposing her breasts shamelessly, and let her hair loose. 'You vanished into thin air, leaving a girl half-pleasured and half-naked in a gazebo. Of course you may not. But I’ll show you how it really went down in the end.' And without another word or any build-up, she spread her mesmerising milky thighs and reached to her cunt, already glistening a bit. Draco felt his heart beating out of his chest and up his throat. He wanted her, wanted to fall to his knees again and maybe never get up, too busy giving her pleasure until they both died on the same day. 'Asta…' he croaked, too overwhelmed to pronounce her full name coherently. 'Please, I-' 'No, ' she breathed out, laying her left hand over her breast. 'You’re… Watching…' A painful pulse surged up his hard cock. He needed to do something with that, but Astoria ordered to watch, so he watched. Watched how her hips bucked up, searching for more pressure from her hand, and how she threw her head back, as if to show off the shirt collar on her thin neck. How her left nipple, sandwiched between her first and second fingers, became swollen and red, while the right one budded by the minute, envious of its twin. Draco could’ve helped. He had his mouth and his hands, and they were itching to help her wonderful body find what it seeked. 'Watch…' she huffed, as if she’d Legilimensed his longing thoughts. 'I’m watching, ' he whispered, his gaze transfixed on her belly, too indecisive to follow either of her hands. She threw her hips up again, then stopped for a second, which was more than enough for his brain to cook up a foolish hope that she wasn’t able to handle this on her own. But before he could open his mouth to offer his services, Astoria pulled her legs apart even wider and threw them over the chair’s armrests. Now Draco saw more than he’d ever seen in his life, to be honest. Every raspberry-coloured fold and wrinkle of her nether parts. He saw her swollen clit and a clear trickle of fluid running down from her vagina. He felt his tongue licking his lips, unbidden. His cock hurt as if twisted mercilessly when she doused a finger inside herself. 'Did you know… My first… Kiss… Was with… Daphne? ' she asked in a hoarse voice, moving her hands faster, and raised her head again. Her eyes stuck to his, widened with curiosity. All the indescribable things he immediately saw in his mind’s eye for her and her sister to do almost made him choke. Daphne teasing Astoria’s perfect breasts, Astoria licking Daphne’s long pianist fingers one by one, both of the sisters whimpering, legs criss-crossed, backs arched while they grazed against each other’s nipples. 'Please…' Draco begged, feeling his pants and trousers too distinctly after all this torture. 'Is it… Too much?.. Watching me?' she asked between heavy breaths. 'Y-yes,' he blurted out. Oh, he was such a mess; thank Merlin, she had mercy. 'Well, then-' she failed to finish the sentence and just waved her left hand impatiently. He rushed to hold her, falling to his knees, but Astoria, all unravelled like this, huffing and moaning, still had nothing but her diabolical revenge in mind. So Draco met with the point of her wand, and after she breathed out something too concise for a simple huff yet too indistinct to make out the incantation, he suddenly lost his vision. 'Better?' she forced out and moaned louder than before. It was worse. It was a nightmare. Standing right in front of her, Draco now felt more than he did with his eyes open: the heat of her body, the all over the place smell of her sweat mixed with perfume and laced with the tangy whiff of her cunt… His mouth literally watered simply from that, and there were sounds too — oh, gods, the sounds she made! They were subtle, even cute, but that was a thousand times worse than Pansy’s eager screams or suppressed whimpers Alannis Shepley produced when he’d shagged her at the top of the Astronomy Tower back in Seventh year. He couldn’t see a thing, but his imagination made up for that. He pictured Astoria up there with him. No. Scratch the Astronomy tower, he couldn’t stand that place. Ravenclaw tower, it would be there, under the silver raven, blabbering stupid riddles. Him, pressing her against the door; Astoria, blushing preciously, making all these sounds non-stop… Draco groaned and went for his fly. Oh, how he hated fumbling with the buttons blindly — honestly, the things this witch made him do! 'Asta…' he breathed out heavily, when his ears caught a rich wet sound, followed by a small cry, brimming with pleasure. When he finally gripped his cock, it was so hard it could fucking burst into pieces. 'Stop- No, I- You can’t… Touch yourself!' Apparently, Astoria got too engaged in her own sensations and missed his daring rebellion. 'No- Please-' he begged, not one bit certain that she wouldn’t bloody Petrify him for disobedience. 'You arse,' she spit out and groaned helplessly. 'Just put- Put it in already!' He yanked off the blindfold and was inside of her faster than his new Thunderbolt Supreme. It was heaven, but also hell, with how desperately he needed to come, having absolutely no right to do that before her. Luckily, she’d done a fantastic job at riling herself up, leaving only the finishing touches to him. 'Say it again, ' she breathed into his ear. 'Say my name.' 'Astoria…' 'No, like you said before.' 'Asta?' She nodded feverishly. 'Asta…' She locked her ankles behind his back, pulling him closer. 'Don’t move,' she pleaded, and he couldn’t deny anything asked in such a voice. When she started grinding her pelvis in circles against him, Draco silently cursed himself again and again. 'You moron,' he thought, unable to tear his eyes from Astoria’s face, twisted by the pleasure tide closing in. 'Asta,' his lips let out. 'Useless git,' he thought, feeling her insides contracting around his cock. 'Asta, Asta, Asta…' his mouth repeated endlessly, while he hammered himself into her, finally free to come. 'Pathetic coward,' he thought, shuddering from head to toe in his hard-won orgasm. 'Asta!' She caught his face and dragged down to hers, drawing him into a warm and fluttering kiss. 'So much for making you miserable,' she whispered with a sad chuckle, when their lips parted. 'Are you kidding? I almost died there,' he protested, still wallowing in pleasure — his eyes closed, his forehead pressed to hers. 'Well, good.' Astoria tapped his shoulder, feigning bitterness. 'I still haven’t forgiven you.' Draco slipped out of her and went down on his knees again, pressing his cheek to her thigh. She reached out to stroke his hair, damp from sweat. 'It’s fine if you stay cross with me forever. Leaving you was despicable-' 'Oh, I forgive you for leaving.' He planted a kiss on her thigh. 'Then what..?' She cupped his cheek and studied his face, stalling the answer. 'You backed down out of pity. Which is honestly the worst, and you’ve never pitied me before.' Her voice wavered ever so slightly, but even from that, Draco pictured her crying, and his heart clenched. 'I didn’t want to hurt you.' She raised an eyebrow, clearly calling him out on this hogwash. 'You wouldn’t give that possibility another thought, if it wasn’t me, would you?' He absolutely wouldn’t. He could shag any other girl without an ounce of remorse. 'You mattered,' he tried to protest. A painful laugh escaped her throat. 'No, you just decided for me. Poor little Astoria! A sickly girl that has seen nothing of the world and certainly is naive enough to fall helplessly for a guy after a single shag.' 'I didn’t think that!' Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck as he caught her hand. That was exactly what he’d thought then. 'I really like you, Draco.' She cocked her head to the side and smiled — honestly, like he made her happy in a way a perfect Christmas present would. 'Most of you. But all I wished for was an adventure. A saucy drunk one-night stand before you marry Daph.' His eyes went blank for a second. 'Before I what?' He watched Astoria throw her head back in slow motion, as if someone cast Arresto Momentum. 'Oh, don’t make that face. You thought I wouldn’t know of my only sister being betrothed?' 'I thought I would know of my own betrothal,' Draco muttered and got on his feet at once. 'That’s not funny.' 'Agreed. May I use your Floo for a moment?' he asked, while trying to button his suspenders properly. 'Of course, but-' 'Much obliged.' Both of them didn’t say a word while he tuned the Floo for a talk. 'Malfoy Manor, West Sitting Room,' said Draco, his teeth set, and doused his face into the emerald flames. Narcissa was reading on her favourite daybed and only leaned her head to the fireplace when he greeted her. 'Hello, darling. What is the matter? You don’t often call like this. Lucius isn’t here right now, but-' 'Am I engaged to Daphne Greengrass, Mother?' She finally tore her eyes from the book and looked at him. 'Oh.' His mother didn’t say anything else, but that was more than enough for him. He recoiled, leaving the sitting room, and gazed into the green fire until it died out completely. 'Are your parents home?' he asked in a bleak voice and turned to Astoria just in time to see her nod. She was still in the armchair, naked, her inner thighs glossy with his spend. He didn’t know the first thing about love, but he wouldn’t want today to be the last time he saw her like this. 'Just wait for me, Asta.' Mr and Mrs Greengrass were having a light luncheon when he barged in, ruining the mood majestically. Or not, since Mr Greengrass only grinned at the sight of an intruder. 'Draco? My, what a pleasant surprise! Why didn’t anyone inform me that we are having guests? Sometimes I feel as if I’m not the lord of this house!' He turned to his wife, trying to look scandalised, but still smiling. She shrugged and smiled back at him. 'I came to talk about the engagement,' Draco said, quite tired of their performance. 'If you have a moment.' Mrs Greengrass beamed with an even wider smile, as if nothing could make her happier. 'Oh, of course, my boy! Are you ready to pick a date for the wedding? Daphne will fuss about every little thing, so it can’t be earlier than a year from now, and also-' 'I want to marry Astoria.' Dead silence was his answer. But at least this erased the damn grins from both their faces. 'Daphne and I haven’t announced our engagement and have never appeared together in public,' Draco continued. 'Her reputation won’t suffer in any way.' 'I’m not sure we can decide such things without dear Daphne present-' Draco couldn’t hold a scoff, and she cut herself short. 'I wish somebody protested like this on my behalf when this engagement was decided on without me,' he retorted, and Mrs Greengrass couldn’t find what to say. 'Astoria it is, then,' Bellerophontes concluded with a curt nod. 'If your parents are fine with the substitution, of course.' This sounded suspicious. What deal had his parents struck with the Greengrasses? 'Why would they be picky about which of the sisters they get for a daughter-in-law?' Greengrasses looked at each other in an obvious hope to saddle their spouse with explaining. 'Well, Tori is quite a weak girl, as you may have heard,' Bellerophontes muttered at last. Draco clenched his fists, recalling a pale girl all alone and out cold in a castle hallway. 'Thank you, I know that firsthand.' 'And I assume you are ready to take measures?' He frowned. Were they implying that Draco would throw Astoria away like a broken toy as soon as she felt unwell? Is this how his own parents painted him to his future in-laws? 'You mean, to support her health? Naturally. She’s going to be my wife, and moneywise-' 'To secure an heir for the Malfoy line.' said Bellerophontes, his face suddenly very grim. 'Tori may fail in that department, so you’d have to go out of your way, if you get what I mean, Draco.' For a moment he could hear nothing but his raging heartbeat drumming between his ears. His face probably betrayed him, since Mrs Greengrass hurried to elaborate with a nervous smile: 'We’ve been to many healers, and darling Tori has developed just as any other girl. She can bear children, I assure you, but her condition is a huge hindrance for pregnancy and delivery. The risks of-' His head hurt from the buzzing sound of Ipponema’s voice and even more from the hideous things she was saying. He had tried to stay civil, hadn’t he? They both didn’t deserve civility, after all, so why bother… 'Do you hear yourself?' Draco interrupted, fully prepared for this to end in a shouting match. 'Merlin, how can you speak like that of your own daughters? How many potential suitors or their parents have already heard you dissecting Astoria like this?' Mrs Greengrass stayed resolute. 'Fertility is an important characteristic-' 'Are you selling a fucking broom to me?! She’s not some exclusive item! She’s your daughter, for gods' sake! Who cares, if she has a weak womb or whatever; sodding Salazar, she is a human being, just like me, just like anyone!' His heart was pounding like crazy. Oh, how much would his parents hear out from Greengrasses after this… 'Draco, there is no need to raise your voice or use obscene words,' Ipponema said with a stiff smile. 'You know perfectly well there are certain standards for Lady Malfoy-' Draco heard a crash and realised with astonishment that it had been his fists that crashed onto the table. 'Screw that. I don’t need a Lady Malfoy, I need a person beside me, and I want it to be your younger daughter — with her fragile body, with her scarred arms, and with a grand total of zero heirs she can carry for the goddamn Malfoy line! Because I’d rather kill myself then condemn another child for a life ultimately reduced to a portrait in the family hall and a few stitches on a dusty tapestry.' His breath caught, and he felt everything too distinctly all of a sudden: the ringing in his head, their stares, his fists trembling from the tension, and most of all — the tears just at the back of his eyes, ready to fall at any given moment. He forced them back and straightened, panting heavily. 'I highly doubt your parents agree with you on that,' Bellerophontes pointed out, studying his nails with particular interest. 'My parents have made enough choices for me. Now I’m the one making them. Father probably forgot to mention, but the Ministry had freed him from the heavy burden of being a family head, and as of last year, this honour has been passed down to me after a very tedious litigation,' Draco said and heaved a sigh. Then he pocketed his hands nonchalantly and gave his best smirk. 'But it’s your call, of course! So, what do you decide: keep your agreement with my parents, whatever it was, only with Astoria as a bride, or have it null and void?' He cocked his head to the side in the most innocent manner. His views may have changed drastically, but manipulating unpleasant people was still fun. 'We’re certainly keeping it,' Mr Greengrass stressed after a silent glance argument with his wife. 'But since all of that is your idea, I hope you will at least have courtesy to go and deliver the news to Lucius and Narcissa by yourself.' 'With great pleasure.' 'While we inform our daughters.' 'If I may-' Bellerophontes glared at him, and Draco’s shut-your-claptrap ward, honed over the years by ferret transfigurations and hippogriff hooves, went off immediately. 'That’s my final word. You may have become Lord Malfoy, son, but I’m still Lord Greengrass.' Draco nodded and left the dining room without another word. He could owl Astoria, or Floo her, or whatever. The main thing had been done. When he tumbled out of his fireplace and fell onto his bed, his hands and legs were shaking, but he laughed like a child.