Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: Uncomfortable Truths
6.5k words, G rated
Astoria was hoping her sister wouldn't find out that she was dating Draco Malfoy until after she'd talked to him about her illness. Unfortunately, nothing can be hidden from Daphne, and Astoria is convinced it's time to reveal the uncomfortable truths about her life. But how will Draco react?
This fic was written for @astoriafest. It was beta'd by the incomparable @abradystrix.
Read it on AO3
*
“Have you taken your medicine today?”
Astoria tries hard not to wince as Daphne pulls the vacant garden chair out from under the table with an awful metallic scrape and sits down.
“Good morning, Daphne. How lovely to see you today. Yes, I am well, thank you for asking.” Astoria takes a sip of her tea, looking coolly at her sister over the rim of the cup.
Daphne rolls her eyes. “Don’t throw a hissy fit about it. Mum told me to ask. I just thought I’d get it out of the way.”
Astoria sets her tea cup down with a light tinkle of china and folds her arms. “Yes, I have taken my medicine today, thank you. I take it every day. Which you would both know if you ever bothered to write.”
Daphne tuts. “You know Mum’s too shaky to write these days, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you. And I’ve been busy, but it’s not as if I don’t Firecall you twice a week, including, and correct me if my memory has been modified, last night.”
Astoria takes another sip of tea. “How is Mum?”
Daphne shrugs and reaches for the teapot. “She’s alright. Quite frail, but that doesn’t mean she’s not still razor sharp. And don’t stand within reach of her walking stick. She uses it as a weapon.”
Astoria snorts into her tea. “How many bruises have you got?”
“Several. They hurt.”
Astoria grins, has another sip, then puts her cup down and dabs her mouth on her napkin. “I will go and see her, I promise. But I know that if I go now she’ll spend the whole time lecturing me about how I need to eat more to maintain my weight.” She rolls her eyes. “That’s not productive for anyone. I know I need to eat more, and I am, but...” She gestures to herself.
Daphne nods sympathetically. “I know. You’ve always been stupidly skinny anyway...” She picks up three sugar lumps and drops them into her tea before adding a large splash of milk. “How are you doing at the moment anyway? You seem okay.”
“Do you have to take all the sugar lumps?”
“No. Just three. Don’t avoid the question.”
“I’m not! I was just...” Astoria gestures at the now largely depleted sugar bowl. “Concerned about the state of my sugar. Anyway. I’ve been better. I’m not bad, just tired. Going back to work is always hard, you know? I’ll feel fine at home, and then suddenly there’s all the extra stuff to do, and the walking, and all the talking to people. It adds up. And then there’s the new potion I’m taking, which is terrible for my appetite, so I never want to eat anything, even though I have to.”
“You should talk to them about that,” Daphne says, stirring her tea and then licking the spoon clean.
Astoria pulls a face at her. “You’re an animal. Mum would be appalled. And I am going to talk to them. I have an appointment next week. I think they’re going to end up keeping me in for some tests. Apparently my blood is ‘weird’, which is very non-specific and I’m also not sure why they’re surprised, because I have a blood malediction. But anyway. This is such a boring thing to talk about. How are you? I forgot to ask about your holiday.”
Daphne groans. “Oh, it was dismal. I’m never going on holiday with anyone else ever again. I’ll just take myself to a beach and lie in the sun and sleep for a week. All we did was walk around crumbling old ruins, and my feet still haven’t recovered.”
“You went to Greece, and you thought it was dismal, and you hated the sightseeing? I’m disowning you.”
“I’m not a history nerd like you.”
“Apparently not. I would die to go to Greece — the trip would probably actually literally kill me — and you didn’t even bother to appreciate it? I can’t believe you.”
“Well now I feel guilty.”
“Good,” Astoria says brightly. “You were meant to.”
“I did bring some pictures to show you,” Daphne says, leaning down for her bag. “If it helps.”
“It might. Come round here.”
Daphne scrapes her chair round beside Astoria’s and they start going through the photos. Astoria insists that Daphne recount as many facts as she can about everywhere she visited, and Daphne complies. Neither of them notice time passing, and soon an hour has passed, then an hour and a half, and next thing they know, their conversation is interrupted by a quiet, polite, throat clearing cough.
They both look up to see a tall, blond figure, smartly-dressed in black trousers and a green shirt, hovering awkwardly at the edge of the patio. Astoria greets him with a warm smile, while Daphne simply stares.
“Hello,” Astoria says, getting to her feet. “I can’t believe it’s three o’clock already. I completely lost track of time. I’m so glad you let yourself in.”
“I did knock first,” Draco says, gesturing to the passage at the edge of the patio that leads round the side of the house. “But there was no answer, and since the gate was open...” He looks at Daphne with a fearful hesitancy. She’s still staring at him like she can’t believe his existence. “I wasn’t aware that we would have company.”
Astoria smiles. “We won’t. Daphne was just leaving. Weren’t you?”
Daphne looks at Astoria. “Who is he?”
Draco frowns. “I’m... Draco Malfoy. We were at school together.”
Daphne waves an impatient hand. “Yes, yes, I know who you are. Why is he here?”
Astoria draws herself up very straight and turns her smile on her sister. “I invited him for tea.”
“You invited him for...” Daphne’s eyes have gone incredibly wide, and a grin is starting to form on her face. “We talked over the Floo for two hours last night, and we talked for two hours this afternoon too, and at no point did you think to mention-“ She jerks her head at Draco, who is still standing on the other side of the patio, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
Astoria sighs and looks at him. “I really must apologise. What my sister means is that it’s very nice to see you, and she hopes you’re well.”
Daphne nods and gives Draco a very wide gleeful smile. “Oh absolutely. It is marvellous to see you.”
Draco gives a curt nod in response. “Likewise. You look tanned. I trust that you had a good holiday. Astoria told me you went to Greece?”
“Oh she did, did she?” Daphne looks like she’s about to explode with delight as she turns a very significant gaze on Astoria. “You two have been discussing me, when I was unaware that you were discussing anything at all. In fact, I was unaware that you were anything more than very distant acquaintances.”
“And this is why, because I knew you would be this childish about it,” Astoria hisses. She takes Daphne by the arm and pulls her to her feet. Daphne doesn’t resist, she’s goggling at Draco again, apparently still unable to comprehend his presence in Astoria’s back garden.
“Please excuse us for a moment,” Astoria says. “I’m just going to take my dear sister outside and murder her.”
Draco smiles. “I won’t report you to the Aurors.”
Astoria grins at him. “I’m eternally grateful. Please take Daphne’s chair so she has to leave.” Gripping Daphne’s arm, she marches off inside the house, with Daphne hurrying along beside her.
As soon as they’re away from the patio door, Daphne pulls herself free and finally explodes into paroxysms of excitement.
“Astoria! Draco Malfoy is in your back garden. Because you invited him here for tea. Explain!”
Astoria sighs. “You’re being very loud. And I think you’ve just explained everything there is to explain.”
“But- But Draco Malfoy!”
Astoria’s cheeks heat up and she folds her arms. “Yes. Draco Malfoy. Is that a problem?”
Daphne holds up a hand and checks her points off on her fingers as she makes them. “Let’s see. He’s ludicrously rich. He’s supposed to be very intelligent. He’s from a significant family. He’s hot as fuck.”
Astoria gives a polite little cough and ducks her head as her cheeks burn.
“See?” Daphne points at her. “You admit it. You fancy him. There is just one problem here.”
“Which is?”
“Oh, nothing major, just the fact that he’s a former Death Eater, which isn’t exactly very you.”
Astoria nods. “I know. But-“
“But?”
“But.” She holds up a hand to stop her sister from interrupting again. “He’s working on it. Did you know he’s helping the Aurors at the moment? And I... I’ve recommended him some books. Which he’s read. And... and he’s not perfect, but who is? We all have to start somewhere, don’t we?”
Daphne stops looking like a Bowtruckle that’s just been handed a plate of fairy eggs and scrutinises Astoria. “Who do you think he is? Do you trust him?”
Astoria looks down at her hands. “I don’t think he’s who everyone else thinks he is. And as hard as it may be to believe, yes. I do trust him.” She looks up at her sister, and Daphne nods.
“Okay. And does he know about your illness yet?”
Astoria shakes her head. “No. I’m going to tell him this afternoon. I knew you would ask that question, and I wanted the answer to be yes when you found out about him. That’s why I didn’t tell you before.”
Daphne nods slowly, considering. “And how do you think he’ll react?”
“I want it to be good, but...” Astoria shrugs. “I want him to be the person who says ‘okay, we’re only going to get a few years together, let’s make them count’. I want him to be the person who knows he’s going to have to sit by my hospital bed and watch me fade away, but who wants to love me anyway. It’s a lot to ask.”
“But that’s your life,” Daphne says softly. “It shouldn’t be a lot to ask. If he feels any way about you at all.”
“I know...” Astoria murmurs. “That’s why I have to tell him now. Before I get in any deeper.”
Daphne tilts her head to one side and looks at her. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“Mmhmm.” Astoria gives a shy little nod, and Daphne steps across and hugs her.
“Oh, Astoria.” She kisses Astoria on the cheek and strokes her hair. “I hope he’s everything you need him to be.”
“Me too,” Astoria says in a tiny whisper.
Daphne kisses her on the other cheek too, then releases her. “Draco Malfoy though.” Her serious expression disappears as her delighted grin starts up again, making her eyes sparkle with amusement and mischief. “Astoria Greengrass you are such a Slytherin. You and your ambition. This is salacious.”
“If you tell Mum. If you tell anyone. I will hex you so hard your toes will fall off.”
Daphne throws her head back and cackles with laughter. “Now there’s a threat. Will it be enough to stop me?”
“It’d better be.”
“I’ll think about.” Daphne twirls around as she heads into the entrance hall. “Have a fun afternoon with your sexy Malfoy boy toy.”
“I hate you,” Astoria calls after her.
Daphne cackles again and blows a kiss over her shoulder as she dances out of the house, still laughing.
Astoria rolls her eyes and waits until the door is firmly closed behind Daphne, then she returns to the garden where Draco is waiting.
“Is everything alright?” He asks. He’s still standing up, but he’s moved closer to the table and looks to have been examining a pot of sweetpeas that have just come into glorious bloom.
“Yes, it is. I’m sorry about my sister. She wasn’t aware that we were seeing each other.”
“I gathered,” Draco says mildly. “I hope it’s not a problem.”
“It is very much not. She wasn’t even supposed to be here this afternoon. She has a habit of turning up uninvited.” Astoria rolls her eyes as she goes back to the table and starts sorting out some more tea.
“I’m not sure she likes me,” Draco says, coming across to the table.
“It’s not that.” Astoria gestures for him to take the seat next to her. “She’s just protective. And very excitable. She wants the best for me.”
“A good sister, then.” Draco picks the chair up and moves it round to the other side of the table.
“She has her moments. May I pour you some tea?”
“Please. I’m gasping.”
Astoria smiles and pours out two fresh cups of tea from the pot she’s just made, then she slides one across to Draco and keeps the other for herself. “Didn’t you have an auction this morning?”
“I did. Everyone’s trying to get rid of their more nefarious items now the Aurors are threatening more raids, and there’s that new legislation on the cards. It’s a buyer’s market.”
“And you’re not concerned about the raids yourself?” Astoria asks lightly, stirring a dash of milk into her tea.
“Today I was buying for the Ministry, so I wasn’t concerned at all. Although I did get something for you too.”
Astoria looks up from her tea in surprise. “Oh? Is it cursed? Because you know I refuse to accept gifts that don’t have the potential to kill me.”
Draco snorts. “I’m sorry to disappoint you. It’s not cursed.”
“Well that’s a shame. It would have been so romantic.”
“I’ll remember for next time,” Draco says drily. He fishes in his pocket and pulls out a very small package wrapped in black tissue paper. When Astoria takes it she discovers that it’s slightly squashy.
“What is it?” She asks, pressing her fingers against it.
“Why don’t you open it and find out? And don’t squash it too hard. It’s delicate.”
“Noted.” She picks her wand up and carefully cuts the Spellotape on the package. As she opens it, the Cushioning Charm inside bursts, and she can see a small, silver brooch fashioned to look like a spray of flowers. There’s a bright yellow sunflower, a beautiful pink rose, a couple of blue forget-me-nots, and a delicate lily. Each of the flowers is set with tiny jewels that sparkle in the afternoon sunlight as Astoria lets the brooch roll into the centre of her palm.
“I see what you mean,” she says, after a few moments of silence. “It is delicate. And rather beautiful, thank you.”
“It reminded me of you and your garden.” Draco looks around at the flowers spilling out of their borders in banks of effervescent colour. “I hope it’s okay.”
“It’s...” Astoria looks down at the glittering brooch and tries to find the right words. She’s rarely speechless, but this is undoubtedly the nicest gift she’s ever been given by someone outside of her family. “Yes. It’s more than okay.”
Her fingers tremble as she tries to pin it to her top, and she can’t even blame her illness because this is one of her better days. It’s simply emotion, and the overwhelming feeling that she likes this man beyond all reason. And she still doesn’t know whether she’ll be able to keep him beyond today. By the end of this afternoon he could have walked away forever.
“I think...” She draws a slightly shaky breath and gets to her feet. “I think I’m going to go inside and get some biscuits. And Daphne used up nearly all the sugar lumps so I’ll get some more of those too. Are there any particular biscuits you like?”
“I was always partial to a Ginger Newt.”
Astoria pulls a face, and Draco winces.
“Was that the wrong answer? I hope it’s not a deal breaker.”
“We’ll see. Between that and the not-cursed brooch you’re certainly on rocky ground.” She gives Draco a smile, and hurries away into the house.
Once she’s in the kitchen, she leans against the wall and closes her eyes, breathing deeply. It takes several minutes and a couple of glasses of water before she feels even slightly composed, but then she gets flustered again trying to find any biscuits. As a general rule she’s not a biscuit person, but now she’s promised them, she surely has to deliver.
In the end, she finds the biscuit tin at the back of one of her cupboards, and mercifully it has an unopened packet of Ginger Newts inside. She tips them onto a plate, nudges them into a vaguely artful arrangement, and hurries back outside.
“Your disgusting biscuits, sir.”
Draco gives an amused little smirk. “You could have brought some that you liked. I wouldn’t have minded.”
“No, I’d rather judge you for your terrible taste.” Astoria drops into her seat, pats the brooch on her blouse to make sure it’s still attached, then leans back, preparing her most judgemental expression for the moment when Draco bites the head off of his Newt. It’s a very short lived moment of judgement, because as Draco crunches the biscuit, he looks at Astoria, and she can see the question in his eyes even before he says a word.
“I...” Draco pauses and looks at the remaining half of his biscuit like it’s going to tell him what he’s trying to say.
“You?” Astoria prompts.
Draco nods. “I understand if you don’t want to say, but I’m curious. You and your sister are close, I know that. You get on well. So why did you decide not tell her about me?”
Astoria swallows. That wasn’t the question she was expecting, and she doesn’t know how to navigate it.
Draco puts his biscuit down on the edge of his saucer and cleans up a few of the crumbs with the tip of his finger. “If it helps, you can say that you’re ashamed of me. I would understand that. I know I’m not exactly at the top of anyone’s list of people to associate with.”
Astoria shakes her head. “No, that’s not it at all. I’m not ashamed to be with you. Who you are and what people think of you are two very different things. If I was ashamed I wouldn’t be doing this. The fact that people think you’re a terrible person doesn’t bother me at all, because they’re wrong. Misguided, yes; imperfect, yes; still learning, aren’t we all? But not bad.”
Draco frowns at her. “So what is it, then? Because that was the only answer I could think of.”
Astoria sighs, shoulders slumping. “I didn’t tell her because... because there were important questions that I needed answering before I did.”
“And... have I answered them?”
“No.”
Draco nods and picks up the rest of his Newt. Astoria can see the disappointment in his expression, the slight downturn of his mouth, the crumpled crease of his forehead, the way his eyes have gone the grey of an overcast Monday morning.
“Draco,” she murmurs. “I haven’t even asked you the questions yet. It’s not your fault you haven’t answered them. They’re not...” She waves a hand and casts around for the right phrase. “They’re not first date questions. Or second, or third, or... It’s bigger than that. It’s my whole life and whether it fits with yours.”
Draco inhales and exhales through his nose, less like a sigh and more like he’s bracing himself. “Go on, then. What are these questions?”
There’s a defensive edge to his tone, and Astoria knows what he’s thinking — that these are going to be questions about him and how he’s planning to change himself. She reaches across the table to where his left hand is lying upturned beside his teacup, and she brushes her fingers against his.
“Draco, they’re not about you. I mean, they are, but not in the way you think. In terms of problems that need solving, believe it or not, your past isn’t the biggest one.”
He shifts his hand to interweave his fingers with hers, and as he does, the rolled up sleeve of his shirt tugs just high enough on his arm that a fraction of the red Mark is visible just beneath it. “How so?”
Astoria strokes one of her fingers over his knuckles and decides that it’s time to just get on with it. “I’m ill,” she says simply.
Draco frowns at her. “You don’t look ill. Or sound it.”
“No,” she agrees. “I don’t. Not at the moment. But I am... Do you remember the day we first talked properly?”
Draco squeezes her fingers. “Of course. We were at the apothecary, and you were buying those weird herbs. We talked for about ten minutes and then you said you were tired and had to go home. I assumed you said that to get rid of me.”
Astoria nods. “I did go home, and I was in bed for three days straight. I only got up in the end because I was starving and Daphne came and made me dinner. It was only a few weeks after I was discharged from St Mungo’s, and I shouldn’t have gone out, but I was mind-numbingly bored.“
“St Mungo’s,” Draco repeats. “It’s serious then? And it’s still affecting you what, nine months later?”
“It’s affected me for my entire life,” Astoria says. She’s trying to be as matter-of-fact as possible. If she can lay it all out, simply and in all its detail, that’s best for both of them. The second that emotion seeps in, that’s where this gets painfully difficult.
“Go on,” Draco murmurs.
Astoria looks from their interwoven fingers, up to his face, which is inscrutable. Draco is impossible to read, and at times it’s infuriating, but at others, like right now, it makes everything easier.
“Have you heard about the Greengrass curse?”
Draco’s lips quirk into an amused smile. “Of course. I read about it while I was researching your family tree. It’s a myth, isn’t it? Just one of those stupid stories.”
“It’s not a myth,” Astoria says. “I’ve got it. It’s a sort of blood malediction. It means I have to take five different potions three times a day. If I get so much as a paper cut, I end up in hospital. It makes me more susceptible to other sorts of diseases, especially if I’m already sick. One day it’s going to kill me. If I make it to fifty I’ll have been extremely lucky. Forty is more likely. You’re probably less than a quarter of the way through your life. I’m half way through mine...
“If I’d been normal, if I’d been any other girl, I would have asked you out for a drink that day we met, but instead I went home to bed, and when I woke up I’d missed the Owl you sent me. That’s it. That’s my life. Frustrating and exhausting and difficult. One day I’ll be fine, going to work just like everyone else, and the next I’ll be in St Mungo’s for six months. And this is why I couldn’t tell Daphne about you, because I needed to be able to tell her that you knew all this and still wanted me anyway, and that’s not something that you can just... ask someone over dinner, or...” She waves her free hand and trails off, not sure what to say next.
There’s a very long moment of silence, then Draco tucks a bit of hair behind his ear. He’s been growing it out recently, and it’s almost to his shoulders now, wispy blond curls wafting in the breeze.
“You’re going to die,” Draco says. His face is emotionless, but his voice sounds thick and choked.
“Everyone’s going to die, but I’m doing it faster than most people. I’m just that precocious.”
Draco doesn’t laugh or even smile. He doesn’t react at all, he just presses on. “And this curse. How did it start? I don’t remember seeing that in the books I read.”
“One of my ancestors,” Astoria says. “They were cursed. I looked into it, and I found out the story. Someone was trying to bait a Muggleborn and they stepped in to stop it. It turned into a duel, and they got cursed. They saved the Muggleborn though.” She watches Draco’s expression as she says it, and for the very first time there’s a flicker of something.
“You’re going to die,” he says slowly, “because one of your ancestors decided to help a-” He cuts himself off with a brisk shake of his head. “That’s...”
“Does it make you angry?” Astoria asks, shifting her fingers in his grip but not letting go of his hand. “A Pureblood girl dying because her stupid ancestor stood up for a Mudblood?”
“Yes!” It explodes out of Draco, the most emotion he’s shown so far, pure, frustrated anger. He pulls his hand free and picks up another Ginger Newt, which he snaps in half and starts to crunch. Maybe it makes him feel better, because as he eats, his shoulders relax a little and he looks back at Astoria.
“Is this why you do what you do?” He asks. “Because of that? I suppose it makes sense.”
Astoria nods. “Yes, it is. It used to make me angry too. But then the war started, and there were all the stories in the papers. People disappearing. People getting hurt. People having their wands taken. They were no different to us, but just because someone decided that pure blood is better, a bunch of people were having their lives destroyed, were getting murdered. And I realised that the whole thing was stupid. My ancestor didn’t stand up for a Mudblood, Draco. They stood up for a human being. Let’s get over ourselves. If I’m going to die, I’m at least going to own it. I’m actually proud of the curse. I’m not happy I’m sick, but there are far worse things to die for.”
“Why does it have to be you though?” Draco murmurs. “It’s not fair.”
“What, because I’m a pretty Pureblood girl with her whole life ahead of her? I’ve heard that before, and it’s complete and utter-”
Draco shakes his head. “No.” It comes out sharply enough to stop Astoria in her tracks. “No, it’s not that, it’s...” He struggles for a moment, dusting his fingers off on his napkin, turning his teacup round on its saucer, then finally reaching for Astoria’s hand again and squeezing it tight. “We need you. The world needs you. To keep saying things like that. To keep looking at the stupid things we’ve always believed and telling us to get over ourselves... If people like you are going to die then what hope do the rest of us have?”
“Well...” Astoria turns their hands over and spreads Draco’s fingers out gently so she can lay her hand directly on top of his. “That’s very nice of you to say, but I’m not the only person who can say things like that. Hermione Granger says them all the time.”
Draco pulls a face. “Yes, but that’s-“
“Different?”
He nods.
“How about this,” Astoria murmurs, now closing her fingers into the gaps between his. “You can say things like that too.”
Draco curls his fingers round her hand and looks up at her. “Can I?”
She nods. “I think so. And if it’s different coming from a Pureblood girl then just imagine what people will think when they hear it from a former Death Eater.”
Draco falls silent for a moment, once again staring down at their hands. He looks rather lost all of a sudden, overwhelmed, and Astoria squeezes his hand tighter to remind him that she’s there.
“When you’re sick,” he says finally. “When you’re in hospital, what’s it like?”
“Ugh,” she groans. “Really boring. I mostly just sleep all the time, because I’m too ill to do anything else.”
“Does it hurt?”
She nods. “Sometimes. And I get really weak. It’s difficult to do much, and when I try it hurts even more.”
Draco looks down at his tea cup, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “It’s difficult to imagine,” he murmurs. “When I said you don’t look ill... sometimes you do look tired, or pale, or... I’ve noticed that you get these bruises on your arms.”
“I bruise easily.”
“I know. Now I know why. But aside from all that...” He shakes his head and looks up at her. “I can’t think of anyone I know who’s so alive. That’s what I meant when I said- You’re always so bright. Even when I worry that you haven’t slept, you’re still...” He waves his fingers in a little starburst motion. “You’re still sparkling.”
Astoria gives a thin smile. “I try to keep up appearances. A lot of effort goes into it.”
“And how are you feeling right now?”
Astoria thinks. “I wasn’t expecting Daphne to turn up, and when she’s like that it’s tiring. But you’re always calm. Maybe that’s why I like you so much. So I’d say a solid seven out of ten. It’s a good day.”
“Seven out of ten is a good day,” he repeats, and it’s not a question or a judgement. It’s more like he’s making a mental note of the fact. “And these potions that you take. What are they? What do they do? Do you have to take them all at once, or?”
“Why?” She asks, squeezing his fingers. “That’s a lot of questions.” She can’t remember anyone asking her so much before, especially not about the details. Normally people don’t like to pry, or they’ve already been scared away.
“You don’t have to tell me. But if we’re going to spend more time together then it might be useful for me to know. Just in case.”
Astoria blinks at him in surprise. Of all the answers he could have given, that was the one she had least expected.
“Would you like me to show you?”
“Not if it’s inconvenient or too personal.”
“It’s not.” Astoria gets to her feet and collects the used tea cups on to a tray, which she picks up with a flick of her wand.
Draco follows her into the kitchen and waits as she unloads the cups and saucers into the sink. He looks around thoughtfully, and she watches him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what he’s thinking. Finally he clears his throat.
“Astoria?”
“Yes, Draco.”
“Do you have knives in here?”
It’s such a random question that she laughs and turns towards him. “Yes, it’s a kitchen. Of course I have knives. How else am I supposed to cook?”
“But you said earlier that if you cut yourself by accident... and what happens if you smash something?”
Her laughter fades. “I suppose it’s a fair question. I’m just careful. And I use magic a lot. But I’m not fragile. I’m not going to drop dead from a single speck of blood. And I suppose it’s risk and reward, isn’t it?”
“Go on,” Draco prompts.
Astoria leans against the worktop behind her. “Well... I could decide tomorrow that it’s my ambition to become a world class Beater.”
Draco smirks at her. “That would be quite the career change.”
Astoria shrugs. “Maybe it’s my calling in life. Or not, because I have terrible hand eye coordination. The first Bludger I missed would hit me smack in the face, give me a nose bleed, a black eye, and probably kill me. But if it was my dream and I thought it would be worth it, I’d probably still have a go. Risk and reward. That’s an extreme example, but I’m not going to not cook myself dinner or drink tea from my favourite tea set just because I might one day accidentally cut myself. That would be ludicrous.”
“Touché,” Draco says with a nod. “It won’t make me worry about you any less, but I do understand.”
“Good. I think. You wanted to see my potions?”
“I did.”
Astoria gestures upstairs. “Let’s go then.”
“Into the inner sanctum,” Draco says, with a smile that glitters mischievously.
Astoria swats at him. “It’s hardly a scandal. Looking at my delightfully boring medication.”
“I’m sure if our mothers found out they’d be appalled at the intimacy.”
“My mother is appalled by everything I do.” She catches hold of Draco’s hand and pulls him along the hall, up the stairs, and into her bathroom.
“This really is the inner sanctum,” Draco says, pausing in the doorway and looking around.
Astoria glances over her shoulder at him. “Have you never seen a bathroom before, Draco? Do you still use chamber pots at the Manor?”
“No. It’s just... your bathroom. It’s very revealing. You have fancy summer berry shampoo.”
“And chamomile and ginseng bubble bath. Well observed.” She opens the medicine cupboard above the sink and starts pulling out the potions, arranging them in an arc on the counter beside the sink. Draco sits on the closed toilet lid and picks up the first one.
“So this is...”
“For Blood Replenishment. When I forget to take that one, I pass out. It happened once in school. I nearly gave Flitwick a heart attack.”
“I hope you never made that mistake again.”
“Not yet.” She picks the next potion up and presents it to Draco. “This is a sort of thickening solution. It helps my blood to clot properly. There’s another stronger version I have to take if I actually cut myself, but that can kill me in a whole other variety of exciting ways.”
“Well that must be comforting,” Draco says drily. “The potion that’s meant to save your life can also kill you.”
“Oh it is. It’s reassuring to say the least.”
Draco looks at her and they share a smile as he reaches for the next bottle. There’s something about sharing dark jokes with him that makes her feel lighter. He’s not panicking or backing away. He’s taking this in his stride, and it’s wonderful.
“I know what this one is,” he says, reading the label on the largest bottle, a big round thing full of purple potion. “It’s a Painkilling Potion. A very mild one.”
“Ten points to Slytherin. And this one?” Astoria hands him a much smaller bottle of blue liquid.
Draco squints at the tiny writing on the label, then shakes his head. “No idea. It just looks complicated.”
“It helps with my immune system. I’m not very good at fighting off diseases. Apparently most of the people who’ve had this curse before me have died of another illness, not the curse itself. So don’t sneeze on me, Malfoy.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Draco says loftily. “Malfoys don’t get sick.”
Astoria laughs. “When it’s winter and you’re moping around with a cold I’m going to remind you that you said that.”
Draco waves her away. “And the last one?”
“A Strengthening Solution. It’s the newest one I take, and it’s good. It helps me recover faster. But I don’t have much appetite while I’m taking it.”
“Have you told anyone about that?” Draco asks.
“Daphne’s going to love you,” Astoria smiles. “She asked the exact same thing. I’m going to talk to them about it next week.”
“Good. You need to eat. That seems important.”
Astoria sits cross-legged on the floor and beams up at him. “Seriously. I think you’ve just won my sister’s heart.”
Draco examines the last bottle for a few more seconds, then he sets it down with a soft clink of glass on porcelain and looks at Astoria, expression serious. “I have never done anything like this before,” he says softly. “I don’t know anyone else who’s ill like this. I don’t know if I’d be any good as a bedside companion. I don’t know if I can be the person you need. I certainly doubt whether I’m the person you deserve — you could do so much better than me, we both know that.”
“That’s still not true,” Astoria interjects.
“We’ll agree to disagree. But what I’m trying to say is that... if you want me, I’ll do my best to learn all this.” He waves a hand at the line up of potion bottles on the side. “The medication, and when you need to rest, and I don’t know. What food you need to eat, all of that. When you’re in hospital I’ll visit you, if you’re not sick of me. And like I say, I might be terrible at it. You might want me to go away. But I’ll do my best, and if that’s not good enough I’ll do better. Because I do love you, Astoria. Very much. And although I know I can’t understand yet what I’m getting into here... It’s a risk I’ll take, because this is your life, and I do think that I’d like to be as much a part of it as you’ll allow me to be.”
Astoria gazes up at him from the floor, and in a sweeping flood all the emotions she’s been holding back, the hope and worry and love and now relief, come rushing in. She blinks hard against hot tears that sting her eyes, and she rests a shaking hand against the sink to steady her as she rises onto her knees and reaches out to Draco with her other hand.
He takes it in both of his and squeezes it tight. “Are you okay?”
She nods. “Mmhmm.” It comes out high-pitched and squeaky, and she sucks in a trembling breath. “Okay. I just... would quite like to kiss you now.”
“I would be amenable to that.” He lends her enough strength to pull herself to her feet and when she stumbles upright, he shuffles sideways on the toilet seat to make room beside him.
Reason tells her that this isn’t romantic or hygienic, but her heart isn’t paying any attention. It’s thumping very hard in his chest, and it only gets louder as she sits beside Draco and reaches up to cup his cheek with her hand.
“Did you really just say you love me?” She asks, brushing her thumb along the sharp ridge of his cheekbone.
He nods, a sharp, silver intensity in his eyes. “I believe I did. I hope it’s not a problem, because I don’t want to apologise for it.”
“It’s not a problem,” she murmurs. “I was actually just thinking that I love you too.”
A little smile flickers across his lips. “Well isn’t that convenient.”
“Very.” She steadies his face with her other hand, then leans up and kisses him with as much warm, solid gratitude as she can manage.
He threads his fingers into her hair, supporting the back of her head in a gentle, steady grip, and she smiles against his lips. This afternoon probably couldn’t have gone any better. That doesn’t mean any of this is going to be easy, but it’s a start. Now he knows, now she has her answers, and she can’t help but think that Daphne is going to be thrilled.
