Malediction: the love and life of Astoria Malfoy

Chapter Sixteen

"Wow." We were standing before the towering gates of Malfoy Manor. It was nearly akin to Hogwarts. Okay, perhaps that was an overstatement, but it surely felt big. Big and intimidating. I grew up in a mansion myself, and yet it was a shack compared to this.

It had been about eleven years since I'd last been here for one of the Pure Blood family parties. It sent an unsettling shiver down my spine; how had so much changed since then?

It felt wrong, bizarre to see Draco here; he was so different than that boy I'd met all those years ago, he was changed. Not to mention the entire premise of our trip -- that we were together.

It was easy to forget the fact he was a Malfoy, the fact he came from all this. My mother and father had always hoped Daphne would marry him (despite her plainly telling them that would never happen). Me being the one here was the crude humor of fate. A juxtaposition: the Draco Malfoy everyone saw -- my parents, Daphne, the Malfoys -- and the Draco I knew; my Draco.

He let out an uneasy sigh. I looked at him, silently asking him what was wrong. He looked out at the fortress of a house distastefully. "It just feels weird, you know, having you here, seeing the whole" -- he gestured his hand toward the house -- "Malfoy thing."

I looked in his eyes, no longer clear, but stormy, uncertain. A pause. I felt a pang of guilt, knowing I was just thinking the exact thoughts that were causing his turmoil. I searched for the right words. I attempted to vanquish my nerves, put on a brave, calm face for him.

"You had to suffer through meeting my parents and they're," I laughed, "mental." He let out an exhale, a kind of small laugh. "I swear, whatever they're like, I won't hold it against you." I said it with a lightness, a breeziness, but I meant it entirely. He looked slightly relieved, but still unconvinced, meaning all I'd managed to do was suppress his emotions, not calm them.

"You ready?"

I did a half nod, half shrug thing, with an artificial smile. He took my hand and pulled me through the gates. Literally pulled me through, like we were smoke or ghosts.

My eyes widened with surprise, and he made a small smirk.

My heart was pounding, my legs felt like jelly, and my hands were shaking. I was about to have dinner with proud, blood-purist, ex-death eaters. I tried my best to push the thoughts from my mind, but what else was there to think about?

He opened the door and I was washed with nostalgia. The house had hardly changed at all.

There they were, walking toward us. I was taken aback at first -- they couldn't have been much older than my parents, but they had aged tremendously since the last time I saw them. I knew it was over a decade ago, but still, it was almost illogical.

Deep lines etched both their faces, sallow skin and purple bags beneath his eyes made Lucius look sickly, ill. Narcissa wasn't so much infirm as she was frazzled. Her eyes were jumpy, but bright, her smile wavering constantly.

"Draco," she said, a happy light in her eyes, which then moved to me. "Oh! Astoria, it's been ages and, oh, you look lovely, doesn't she Lucius?" She turned to her husband, who nodded, a bored distant look in his eyes, a fake smile that resembled a scowl on his lips.

I smiled as sincerely as I could. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy, you look lovely as well." My voice came out meeker, shyer than I'd intended.

"Oh, please, call me Narcissa," she said. I nodded, still sporting a smile. She took my shivering hand and walked me into the dinning room. The house seemed to somehow get even colder the further you progressed. Draco gave his father a nervous smile, unable to hold eye contact with him, and followed us.