when they became villains [draco malfoy] {book 2}

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She had asked him before they had left - what would they do if nobody photographed them - how could they make sure they got photographed. She hadn't wanted to believe his eyeroll and the words: "We don't have to do anything. As long as they see the two of us together, they'll have a million rumours to spread as it is." It was obvious now. She should've taken his word for what it was worth. She should've prepared herself.

It started with the short distance it took to walk to the restaurant from the nearest public Floo Network in Diagnoalley. The street was rather empty and the people that were there didn't recognise her at first. They only recognised Malfoy and gave this sort of semi-frown. None of it had been directed at her since most didn't even know what she looked like now, but even that alone had left her internally trembling. She had walked by him unphased when in reality all Astrid had wanted to do was curl into his side and close her eyes so she wouldn't have to witness any of it at all. 

Later, it only got worse.

She had survived the surprised yet recognising glare of the young hostess. She had straightened out a bit when Malfoy had barked at her to quit scowling and do her bloody job. But then they had walked inside. And there were so many people. So many people. Astrid had not seen so many people in one space for seven years. 

There was barely any air in the high-ceiling restaurant. The far-apart standing tables felt way too close. The light from the candle-lit chandelier was so bright and sudden that for a second Astrid had felt blinded. She had stopped, frozen in place, but even the sweat collecting on her brow wasn't warm enough to help her move again. She forced herself not to close her eyes and tried to calm her body by actually taking in the scenery around her.

The ceiling seemed to have been made entirely out of gold and marble. It went over their heads like a dome and nearly every bit of it had an engraving or a design of sort. An enchanted place, it had looked small from the outside, but now that she was inside it felt impossibly grand. All tables held a distance between them that only high-ranking restaurants could afford and all as one they looked identical - circular, with a white, beautifully polished tablecloth, a low vase with white and yellow flowers in it in the middle of it. The chairs all bore the same appearance too - white and wooden, but cushioned with a velvet material. But the most impressive part must've been the chandeliers - lined with what looked like a thousand candles they sparkled enough to remind one of a thousand stars but remained dim enough to set the restaurant in an atmosphere that was perfectly in between casual and romantic.

"Move along," Malfoy had muttered into her ear, placing his hand on her upper back and pushing her along. 

Save yourself, her mind had screamed at her in response.

But she had moved along as he had instructed anyway and followed the hostess to their table, right by a grand window, making them perfectly visible to the entire world outside. It was their plan after all - having their picture taken, securing an alibi for the fire that was bound to happen right around the same time. 

Sitting there, feeling the perplexed stares and knowing of those she wasn't even noticing right outside that very window, for the first time in a long while Astrid wanted to cry. She wondered if she had done her makeup thoroughly enough, if her Marks were covered. She wondered if her sleeves were long enough, whether the ends of her gloves wouldn't slide down. It was one thing being tough behind a closed door -  completely different to remain so under the judgment of the public.

Malfoy showed no sign of distress and she envied him for it. He had always done everything better. And although she knew both of them were holding up a seamless facade of a friendly date - he feigning joy, she feigning that and confidence - Malfoy was for sure doing a better job. As they ordered food he made her order for her, grinning subtly, nodding at the waiter with a small addition of words: "It's her favourite."  And it would've seemed nice if only the twat hadn't ordered fish. Bloody fish! Astrid wasn't picky but if there was one thing she didn't like then it was damn fish and he knew it. When she tried to call him out on it afterwards, Malfoy merely snapped at her that she had to snap out of her shell and start acting like she was actually enjoying the night.