Drastoria: arguing about the past, for Raquel

“Oh, so what, you’re just going to get up and leave again?” Astoria yelled, and Draco stopped, turning back to face her.

“You are never going to let that go, are you?” He shouted back, stepping into the room again. “How many times do you want me to apologise?”

Astoria threw up her hands. “Oh, I don’t know, until I know you won’t do it again? Why do you think I waited this long to tell you about this pregnancy when you ran out on me the last time?”

“For one night. I wasn’t ready to be a father, I’m still not. You didn’t have the childhood I did, you have a clue of how parenting is supposed to work; I don’t!” He paused, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous, Tori. I was going to Floo a Healer, not run out on you.” He took a step towards his wife, face sombre.

Astoria remained stoic until his arms wrapped around her, and she relaxed into him, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder. “I’m just afraid that it’ll be the same as last time, and we’ll lose him too.” She whispered, and Draco stroked her hair soothingly. “And you leaving with that panicked look – it brought me right back to it.”

“I know, and I am truly sorry that I left. But this baby will be fine,” he gently lifted her chin up so she looked at him, teary eyes meeting stormy grey. “You’ll have the finest Healers, we’ll go for weekly check-ups; I’ll take time off work if it’ll make you feel better.” He offered.

Astoria smiled. “And have you stir-crazy and bouncing off of the walls? I think we’ll get enough of that if the baby comes.”

When.” Draco corrected, pulling his wife into him once more.

Drastoria: Noticing things at a party, for anon.

Draco had come to the party determined not to notice anything about Astoria Greengrass. She was too- much, he felt. She made his knees weak and his stomach flutter, and he disliked how small and unimportant she made him feel. It had made him determined to ignore her, for as long as he lived, but so far it was not something he had had much success in that night. She was impossible to ignore.

He noticed the way that her dress caught the light as it shimmered, and he wondered what material it was. It looked like velvet, in a deep moss green colour. He noticed the way that the thin straps around her upper arms seemed rich against her creamy skin, the swell of her breasts that the sweetheart necklace failed to cover. He noticed how the fabric hugged her figure tightly at the waist before relaxing, outlining the smooth curves of her hips and then running down to pool at her feet.

He noticed the deft grip her fingers had on her glass of red wine; relaxed, a picture of elegance and decorum. He noticed the flush that the alcohol had left on her cheeks.

He noticed how vibrantly green her eyes were, a few shades lighter than her dress, and the smoky shadow that outlined them. He noticed the rich crimson colour her lips had been painted, a perfect pout. He noticed the blunt line of her black bangs, casting a shadow over her face that made him think of mysteries.

He noticed the bright white of her teeth as she smiled, the tinkling, bell-like sound of her laugh when it drifted to his ears like music across the room.

He noticed how she would brush off any suitors who came to her, her eyes glinting whenever she would occasionally glance over to where he leaned against a wall, isolated in a corner.

He noticed how his heart sped up when their eyes met, how his guts would twist and turn uncomfortably and his face would heat up.

Draco could only think of two words:

Oh, fuck.