the girl who lost it all [d.m]

fifty nine: tempestas

tempestas: tempest, storm, rainstorm

———

DRACO walked Astoria home.

It had been the longest evening of his life—from hosting the Ball, to worrying about Elara, facing off his mother and then shutting everything down, only for Astoria to remind him they were still obligated to take pictures for the newspapers right after.

He'd wanted to protest—but he knew he and Astoria were the faces of the Dark Lord's movement. If Voldemort's right hand man was betrothed, that meant an heir—and if an heir was in the equation, it meant things had to be good. The Dark Lord's reign was stable. Firm.

That couldn't be further away from the truth, of course. Especially when Draco was the one taking down the entire regime—and he didn't stop until he got what he wanted.

"Looks like Theo went to bed," Astoria murmured as they came to a stop in front of the gate to Theo's home. The windows were dark. "He's been in a bad mood all day."

Draco sent her a sidelong glance, tucking both hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Because you were going out?"

"Because I'll be plastered all over the newspapers tomorrow morning with you and all the headlines would read 'Draco and Astoria: Heir on the Way?'"

Draco scoffed, looking down the street to where a couple Death Eaters were on patrol. "He's still bothered by that?"

Astoria nudged him in the ribs, clutching her little golden purse in her hands. "Wouldn't you be bothered if that mystery girl you were dancing with was seen with another man?"

Draco's heart thudded. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She shook her head with a laugh. "No one else may have noticed," she said, pushing open the small gate and beginning to walk up the driveway. "But I know what a man in love looks like. I see it every morning in the bed next to me."

She sent him a wink over her shoulder and said, her tone still amused, "You're welcome to come in for something to drink. I'm sure Theo won't mind."

Draco waved a dismissive hand at her. "Sleep well."

He waited until the front door had shut behind her before turning and making his way towards the Apparition point.

His thoughts seemed to be scattered all over the place, lost in crevices of the night's events—from the Horcrux to Elara. Mainly Elara.

When he'd seen her for the first time on top of that landing at the safehouse, it felt like she'd reached into his chest and yanked out his heart. She'd looked like salvation and home, like everything he'd ever loved and everything he always would.

But there had been other body parts—apart from his heart—that had been involved too.

The dress had hugged her body, perfectly. He knew because he'd already memorised every dip and curve—and the dress only accentuated them. He'd nearly collapsed when he'd taken in the diamond choker wrapped around her neck—and then the necklace he'd given her, the snake charm resting neatly on her chest.