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Author: [is chasing unicorns in the Forbidden Forest]
Recipient:
slumber
Title: Duck and Parry
Pairing: Draco/Astoria
Rating: PG (merely for language)
Word Count: 1146
Summary: To escape a visit from a marriage broker, Draco plots a rebellion of his own at Hogwarts, and finds himself at the sharp end of a Ravenclaw’s pointed words.
Author's Notes: Canonically speaking, it’s assumed Astoria was Slytherin, but not explicitly stated. I took the liberty of making her a Ravenclaw for the purposes of this story. Please forgive artistic license.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Draco began, looking at his mother incredulously, “for a moment I was sure I’d misheard you.”
“I assure you,” she replied, biting back a smile, “I spoke quite clearly.” Her son was home for his brief holiday from Hogwarts, though he (and his father, truth be told) had balked at the idea of him returning to the school at all after the rebuilding.
“You intend to employ a marriage broker because unlike Potter and his lot, I haven’t rushed about the countryside announcing an engagement?” Her son stared at her with horror in his face.
“I believe you did misunderstand me,” she said. “I merely made the suggestion that if you didn’t find someone of your own choosing soon, your father considered that we would have to consider the option. You know how he feels about continuing the Malfoy line.”
“And you know that I’d just as soon let the line die with me,” her son spat. Narcissa Malfoy nodded understandingly.
“And that is why I’m warning you now, Draco. Find yourself a wife, before your father gets involved in the process,” she said, not unkindly, but as firmly as she could.
Draco dropped into a chair and threw his hands up in exasperation. It was the most emotion she’d seen from her son since his infancy, a sure sign that his father’s influence had slipped beyond the point of reclamation. “Find a wife?” he said with a sardonic laugh. “Mother, everyone, and I do mean everyone, at the school hates me. Half of my own House won’t even deign to look at me because they aren’t entirely sure what side I was on there at the end, and the other half – well, they’re worse than useless to begin with and run out of the room, convinced I’m worse than Father.”
“What about the other Houses?” she asked.
“Terrified,” he said shortly. He seemed to think for several moments. “He’s already done it, hasn’t he?” Narcissa said nothing. “Damn him,” Draco muttered. “Mother, I’m returning to Hogwarts for the holidays. It’s bad there, but it’ll be worse here if he’s got a marriage broker and Merlin knows what kinds of women prancing about trying to marry me.” He shuddered.
When Draco arrived back at Hogwarts, he found himself coolly assessing every female of his acquaintance as a potential mate. He knew that his father expected him to marry Pansy, or someone like her: another Pureblooded Slytherin like himself. To spite his father he might have married Granger at this point – if she weren’t already taken and he didn’t despise her anyway. There were limits, after all.
But spiting his father got him thinking. Surely there were other ways to foil this plan of his father’s. And there were plenty of Pureblooded (even he wasn’t sure he could stomach a Muggleborn, no matter what he wanted to believe) Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Gryffindors were out of the question, he decided.
He went to the library and began to make a list, methodically marking down every line he could remember in either House.
“If you’re planning to expand the Pureblood Army outside of Slytherin House,” a soft, feminine voice at his ear said, “you’ve forgotten me.”
He looked up to see a girl, a few years younger than he, at least, who still looked oddly familiar. He found his head tilting sideways as if looking at her from another angle would somehow make her face come into better focus.
“You know,” she said, “I always heard Loony Lovegood say that you were quite strange, and not the least bit as cruel as you were rumoured to be, and I have to say that I quite believe her now.” The girl sat down next to him and snatched the list out of his hands.
Draco stared at her. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had acted so completely free around him, as though he weren’t an enemy, but simply a regular person – especially someone from one of the other Houses. She must be some Gryffindor he didn’t know about; perhaps a hanger-on of Potter’s. It would explain that nagging sense of familiarity – and her acquaintance with Lovegood.
“An army of women only?” she mused after reading down the list. “Very peculiar. This looks more like a list of Eligibles. I wonder why you’ve excluded your own House, then,” she said, turning to him. “Rebellion?”
He realized he hadn’t had a friendly conversation of the sort she was offering in months – if ever. “You’re very clever,” he said, smirking at her. “Not Gryffindor, then. Granger’s the only one in the whole House with those brains. Must be Ravenclaw.”
“Quite right,” she said with a nod. “Though I think you underestimate them a bit. But then you would, wouldn’t you? You being you and them being – well – them.” She laughed, and he realized he liked the sound of it. It wasn’t like Pansy’s laugh, or any of the other girls he knew. It almost tinkled like the bells he’d heard on Christmas, sweet and uplifting.
“You said I’d forgotten you, but I’ve listed every Pureblooded family not in Slytherin – rebellion only goes so far,” he added. Silently he wondered if he’d make an exception in her case.
“But in my case, part of my family is in Slytherin, which is probably why you didn’t think of me,” she said, laughing again. He shivered. “You’re in my sister, Daphne’s, year, aren’t you?”
That was why she was so familiar, he realized. Greengrass was Pureblood, naturally, but it was rare for siblings to be in different Houses. He’d assumed that if she’d had any siblings, they would be in Slytherin, like she was. And for some reason, he found himself grateful that this time, it hadn’t happened that way, even though this girl was at least a year behind him, perhaps more.
“You have me at a disadvantage, Miss Greengrass,” he said, standing to offer her a polite bow, one that would make his parents proud. “You know a great deal about me, and I know very little about you. I appear to be at Hogwarts for the holiday. Perhaps we could venture into Hogsmeade together and rectify that situation?”
“Only if you call me Tory,” she said. “My given name is Astoria, but can you imagine anything more awful?” she laughed again and tugged on his hand, forcing him back into his seat. “And tear up that stupid list. If you want to rebel against your parents, there are much better ways than marrying someone they don’t like. You could be stuck with someone you’d hate forever,” she added, as an afterthought.
Draco found himself laughing. Apparently Tory Greengrass had decided to befriend him, and whether she realized it or not, she was now the only name on his list, and it had absolutely nothing to do with rebellion.
Recipient:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Title: Duck and Parry
Pairing: Draco/Astoria
Rating: PG (merely for language)
Word Count: 1146
Summary: To escape a visit from a marriage broker, Draco plots a rebellion of his own at Hogwarts, and finds himself at the sharp end of a Ravenclaw’s pointed words.
Author's Notes: Canonically speaking, it’s assumed Astoria was Slytherin, but not explicitly stated. I took the liberty of making her a Ravenclaw for the purposes of this story. Please forgive artistic license.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Draco began, looking at his mother incredulously, “for a moment I was sure I’d misheard you.”
“I assure you,” she replied, biting back a smile, “I spoke quite clearly.” Her son was home for his brief holiday from Hogwarts, though he (and his father, truth be told) had balked at the idea of him returning to the school at all after the rebuilding.
“You intend to employ a marriage broker because unlike Potter and his lot, I haven’t rushed about the countryside announcing an engagement?” Her son stared at her with horror in his face.
“I believe you did misunderstand me,” she said. “I merely made the suggestion that if you didn’t find someone of your own choosing soon, your father considered that we would have to consider the option. You know how he feels about continuing the Malfoy line.”
“And you know that I’d just as soon let the line die with me,” her son spat. Narcissa Malfoy nodded understandingly.
“And that is why I’m warning you now, Draco. Find yourself a wife, before your father gets involved in the process,” she said, not unkindly, but as firmly as she could.
Draco dropped into a chair and threw his hands up in exasperation. It was the most emotion she’d seen from her son since his infancy, a sure sign that his father’s influence had slipped beyond the point of reclamation. “Find a wife?” he said with a sardonic laugh. “Mother, everyone, and I do mean everyone, at the school hates me. Half of my own House won’t even deign to look at me because they aren’t entirely sure what side I was on there at the end, and the other half – well, they’re worse than useless to begin with and run out of the room, convinced I’m worse than Father.”
“What about the other Houses?” she asked.
“Terrified,” he said shortly. He seemed to think for several moments. “He’s already done it, hasn’t he?” Narcissa said nothing. “Damn him,” Draco muttered. “Mother, I’m returning to Hogwarts for the holidays. It’s bad there, but it’ll be worse here if he’s got a marriage broker and Merlin knows what kinds of women prancing about trying to marry me.” He shuddered.
When Draco arrived back at Hogwarts, he found himself coolly assessing every female of his acquaintance as a potential mate. He knew that his father expected him to marry Pansy, or someone like her: another Pureblooded Slytherin like himself. To spite his father he might have married Granger at this point – if she weren’t already taken and he didn’t despise her anyway. There were limits, after all.
But spiting his father got him thinking. Surely there were other ways to foil this plan of his father’s. And there were plenty of Pureblooded (even he wasn’t sure he could stomach a Muggleborn, no matter what he wanted to believe) Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Gryffindors were out of the question, he decided.
He went to the library and began to make a list, methodically marking down every line he could remember in either House.
“If you’re planning to expand the Pureblood Army outside of Slytherin House,” a soft, feminine voice at his ear said, “you’ve forgotten me.”
He looked up to see a girl, a few years younger than he, at least, who still looked oddly familiar. He found his head tilting sideways as if looking at her from another angle would somehow make her face come into better focus.
“You know,” she said, “I always heard Loony Lovegood say that you were quite strange, and not the least bit as cruel as you were rumoured to be, and I have to say that I quite believe her now.” The girl sat down next to him and snatched the list out of his hands.
Draco stared at her. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had acted so completely free around him, as though he weren’t an enemy, but simply a regular person – especially someone from one of the other Houses. She must be some Gryffindor he didn’t know about; perhaps a hanger-on of Potter’s. It would explain that nagging sense of familiarity – and her acquaintance with Lovegood.
“An army of women only?” she mused after reading down the list. “Very peculiar. This looks more like a list of Eligibles. I wonder why you’ve excluded your own House, then,” she said, turning to him. “Rebellion?”
He realized he hadn’t had a friendly conversation of the sort she was offering in months – if ever. “You’re very clever,” he said, smirking at her. “Not Gryffindor, then. Granger’s the only one in the whole House with those brains. Must be Ravenclaw.”
“Quite right,” she said with a nod. “Though I think you underestimate them a bit. But then you would, wouldn’t you? You being you and them being – well – them.” She laughed, and he realized he liked the sound of it. It wasn’t like Pansy’s laugh, or any of the other girls he knew. It almost tinkled like the bells he’d heard on Christmas, sweet and uplifting.
“You said I’d forgotten you, but I’ve listed every Pureblooded family not in Slytherin – rebellion only goes so far,” he added. Silently he wondered if he’d make an exception in her case.
“But in my case, part of my family is in Slytherin, which is probably why you didn’t think of me,” she said, laughing again. He shivered. “You’re in my sister, Daphne’s, year, aren’t you?”
That was why she was so familiar, he realized. Greengrass was Pureblood, naturally, but it was rare for siblings to be in different Houses. He’d assumed that if she’d had any siblings, they would be in Slytherin, like she was. And for some reason, he found himself grateful that this time, it hadn’t happened that way, even though this girl was at least a year behind him, perhaps more.
“You have me at a disadvantage, Miss Greengrass,” he said, standing to offer her a polite bow, one that would make his parents proud. “You know a great deal about me, and I know very little about you. I appear to be at Hogwarts for the holiday. Perhaps we could venture into Hogsmeade together and rectify that situation?”
“Only if you call me Tory,” she said. “My given name is Astoria, but can you imagine anything more awful?” she laughed again and tugged on his hand, forcing him back into his seat. “And tear up that stupid list. If you want to rebel against your parents, there are much better ways than marrying someone they don’t like. You could be stuck with someone you’d hate forever,” she added, as an afterthought.
Draco found himself laughing. Apparently Tory Greengrass had decided to befriend him, and whether she realized it or not, she was now the only name on his list, and it had absolutely nothing to do with rebellion.
no subject
Date: 2013-01-25 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-25 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-25 11:04 pm (UTC)To spite his father he might have married Granger at this point – if she weren’t already taken and he didn’t despise her anyway. There were limits, after all.
“My given name is Astoria, but can you imagine anything more awful?”
Thank you for a very enjoyable story! :)
no subject
Date: 2013-01-27 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-30 05:38 am (UTC)AstoriaTory, she's simply wonderful, and your Draco is characterized perfectly. I just love this ficlet so much, you should absolutely write more of this pairing. I would definitely read it.