||Black Scarves and Careless Hearts|| A Dramione Fanfic

14. The Greengrass Family

----
"I've learnt that people will forget what you said, they will forget what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel."
~Maya Angelou
----

Draco reached his flat to find Astoria sprawled on his couch, reading a the week old copy ofWitch Weekly. She looked up at him and smiled, but her smile disappeared when she saw what state he was in.

"What happened to you?" She sat up and rushed over to his side. 

He pushed her fussing hands away, "Got drenched in Alihotsy Draught."

"Then why aren't you in hysterics?" Astoria said, and looked proud at having remembered that Alihotsy Draught caused hysterical laughter. 

"It wasn't actually the draught, it was just hot water which was supposed to be the draught," Draco explained impatiently. He pulled off his sopping wet and smelly shirt and tossed it into the laundry. Finding another clean one, he tugged it on over his head, "Why are you here now?"

Astoria's face fell even more.

They hadn't talked about their fight at all. Not even once. Draco had known that he had been inconsiderate, and so he had taken her out to dinner again, and they had just gone back to being how they used to be.

Draco frowned, trying to think of any skipped dinner dates or anything.  They hadn't planned anything, had they?

"Draco," Astoria said with a taciturn sound to the way her voice wobbled slightly, "It's my birthday."

Draco froze in his task of buttoning his shirt up. Seconds passed in silence. 

"You forgot?" Astoria asked. It was evident that she was trying very hard not to look upset. 

There was no point in lying, "Yes."

Astoria's lips formed a sullen smile, "I thought you would."

Draco swallowed guiltily. He forgot every year, but every time he managed to narrowly dodge getting into the scrape by talking to Blaise or Pansy or Theo. This time, he had truly and completely forgotten. Which was terrible of him.

With an enormous sigh, Draco ran a hand over his face, "Look, I'm sorry- I'll- we can go somewhere, if you want-"

"Adrian asked me to go with him to Hogsmeade."

Draco stopped short, and bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from saying anything harsh. He had vowed to himself to not hold her back. But he couldn't help the slight twist of his insides.

"Great." 

Astoria looked so worn out, so tired, that Draco's guilt multiplied manifold. 

"You can come, if you want," Astoria said in a low voice, "Pans and Blaise are coming. Theo said he would try his best. Millie and Daphne too."

It was the nature of things such as love to be capricious and full of twists and turns. If given and received well, it would flourish. If not, it was most likely to begin wilting. 

In this case, the comparison was inapt. There was no love here other than platonic. 

Astoria was looking at him with undisguised expectation in her eyes, expectation such as one would have from their closest friend.

But Draco could not take  the pretences anymore. He could not. His head would explode. 

"I have work."

The words caused an expeditious change to Astoria's usually guarded and careful mien. Her eyes glistened, suggesting an oncoming downpour. Draco clenched his teeth and waited for her to say something.