Elle!Fic | Dark Heart Silhouette | Draco/Ginny, Draco/Astoria | Adult
Title: Dark Heart Silhouette (8/12)
Author: Elle, aka elle_blessing
Characters: Draco/Ginny, Draco/Astoria
Rating: R
Word Count: ~28,000
Summary: In a world where Voldemort won the Second War, Draco finds himself in the fortuitous position of being one of the Dark Lord's favored. The love of two women will drive him to question who he is and what he has become, but it is betrayal that set in motion the beginning of the end.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKR’s sandbox, not mine.
Author’s Notes: This was written for the 2010 round of dracobigbang. I have taken the liberty of making Daphne and Astoria cousins instead of sisters, and Michael Corner is Astoria’s half-brother through marriage. Also, endless thanks go to fiery_flamingo, amazonmink, goddessvicky & mugglechump for helping me beta this story to make it fit for public consumption.
Chapters: Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI
@FanFic.net
Chapter 7
It was barely a tingle, just something that made the hair of her arms stand on end, but she knew that Draco was home. Astoria was getting better at reading the wards. It was both something one heard and felt and the longer she'd been in residence at Malfoy Manor, the more it seemed to resonate within her.
The estate was beginning to draw her in, claim her. It was a decidedly odd experience in all honesty. Such old magics as were laid in the foundations of her uncle's home and here in Malfoy Manor seemed to be sentient things, choosy of their masters and mistresses. Her father had told her that Greengrass Estate hadn't ever taken to Daphne's mother, that she'd been somewhat of a null in her own home until her early death in a miscarriage not long after her cousin had been born. Both mother and child had died, and uncle Devon had never remarried.
Astoria supposed she should be pleased that the magics several hundreds of years of Malfoys had laid into the foundations of the castle seemed to like her. It was odd to be accepted, to feel them occasionally slide over her skin, a weighted thing, but it would have been worse to feel the void. It was always worse to be without the magic than overdosed.
Such were her idle thoughts as she padded through the dark manor, mug of warm milk clutched in both hands. She was having trouble falling asleep and her mother had always given her warm milk when she was a child for such an ill. She was certainly no girl anymore, but the practice made her feel close to the woman who was no longer there.
Though, as she passed through the familiar shadows of the manor, Astoria wondered where Draco was coming from at such an hour. Several outlandish things sprung to mind, things the Dark Lord had commissioned he do. He hadn't ever said what he did for Voldemort, but her mind was always ready to supply her with grisly images. Such things were rarely congruous with the man she was slowly coming to know, however.
There was always the possibility he had a mistress.
Astoria didn't particularly like to dwell on such an option and it irritated her that she hedged around it so. It was the more likely of her explanations for his whereabouts, and she was even half sure there had to be someone. How a man like Draco would be without some kind of companionship she wasn't sure. He surely didn't seek her and hadn't in the handful of months they had been married.
Perhaps it was because she'd been caught up in her thoughts, but when a body swept around the corner right in her pathway, a startled yelp escaped her and the warm milk she'd been clutching went flying.
Right on Draco.
"Shite," Draco swore, angry glare looking for who had doused him. His wand was in hand, habit putting it there quickly when faced with any kind of unexpected danger, but the 'threat' that filled his gaze when he lifted his eyes was his wife; tiny, barely clothed and blinking at him with wide eyes.
Her image so soon after seeing Ginny was hard to reconcile in his mind, and the storm of his anger faltered as he dipped his head, wiped a finger at the liquid slowly seeping into his suit and robes.
"What the bloody hell is this?" It wasn't what he'd meant to say, but his face screwed up in confusion as he tried to study what she'd thrown at him in the candlelit hall.
There was a bevy of emotions littering the air around the tall man before her and it was surprising enough that Astoria only continued to blink at him for several long moments. She could so rarely read him, but just now he was projecting a lot, loudly; anger, first, hurt, perhaps?
It was his steady gaze that drew her own, though, and the confusion she read there had a tinkling laugh bubbling from her lips. Entirely the wrong reaction, she brought her hand up to cover her mouth as if to hide or stop herself. His further confusion and the way his face screwed up only served to make her laugh harder though, her shoulders gently shaking as she brought the other hand up then, trying the best she could to keep it inside.
He hadn't a clue what was so damn funny, but watching her dissolve into giggles of all things, her tiny frame shaking with it and the sound tinting the air, though muffled, had a smile curling Draco's lips. He still didn't know what was so amusing, but it was hard not to smile when Astoria was giggling, her whole body filled with mirth.
"It's milk," she was finally able to get out, hands fluttering as she took a step towards him, then two. Giggles still bubbled forth as her mind kept replaying the image of his face screwed up in confused bewilderment.
"I couldn't sleep," she explained, "and so I went to the kitchens for warm milk. My mother used to give it to me when I was young to help me doze off. I didn't expect anyone to scare my knickers off, though," she said wryly, voice still full of laughter as she slowly reached for the wand he held in his hand.
Only in her slip, she didn't have her own wand, but he didn't fight her taking his. Part of her was mildly surprised, but she was too mirthful just that moment to pay anything else much heed. "Here. My brother taught me some simple cleansing charms. He thought it was best to know at least a few practical spells," she explained before she flicked his wand, murmured the charm.
His wand was larger than her own, heavier, but the spell still seemed to work and she was pleased with herself when she finally looked up at him. "There."
It was Draco's turn to burst into laughter then. He wasn't sure exactly why the low rumbling chuckle was making his shoulders shake as he looked down at her. Perhaps the ridiculousness of the situation. Perhaps that combined with the fact that his emotions were already storming close to the surface.
Whatever it was, it felt good. A release, not unlike anger or passion. That Astoria was blinking at him again, surprise etching her features, only made him chuckle more.
"Scared your knickers off then?" he asked, a genuine smile curling his lips as he watched her.
"I douse you in warm milk and the only thing you can remember from all of the last ten minutes is the bit about knickers?" she said evenly, a single brow rising.
There was laughter in her eyes, however, a tiny curl to her lips, and Draco found he liked playing with her. "That sums it up nicely, yes."
"Typical man," she huffed, not quite able to hide the tiny grin that curled her lips.
She pushed his wand back into his hand then and bent to pick up her empty mug, making an internal note to tell the elves to scrub the whole area thoroughly in the morning.
Despite the events of the evening, the dark storm that had been in him when he'd left Ginny at Nightshade, Draco found himself lighter, the weight that had been riding him, less. He was not happy about what had transpired, but part of him was relieved that at least there was some kind of finality. Truth.
He had Astoria - his wife - to thank for lightening his mood, the weight on his shoulders. She'd done it unwittingly, even, and his gaze followed her as she retrieved her mug. Her silky slip was dark, the color of which he couldn't quite make out in the dimly lit hall, but it made her skin look even paler than he knew it to be. The contrast was stark, but lovely, as was her hair as it slid over her shoulders, down her back to melt seamlessly with the silk.
When Astoria stood, it was to find the laughter mostly gone from Draco's features, his eyes weighty as he watched her. It made her more aware of what she was wearing - and not wearing - and a faint blush tinted her skin. She was glad for the terrible lighting though, as it would likely pass by unnoticed.
"I think my taste for it has waned this eve, but I shall endeavor to find the sweetness of dreams regardless," she said then, compelled to fill the space with words. "With my knickers on," she added, lips curling wryly.
"Goodnight, Draco," she said softly as she slipped around him and continued on toward her rooms.
He turned and watched her pad lightly down the hall. Her footfalls didn't make any sound at all on the heavy Persian carpets lining the stone corridor, likely why he hadn't heard her coming in the first place. It was then he noticed she was barefoot as well, also tiny there, and his eyes lingered on the soft curve of her calf, the delicate sway of her hips.
"Goodnight," he said, more to himself than anything as she was too far away to hear him. His head tipped slightly before he pushed his current line of thought away, and proceeded in the opposite direction. He'd been on his way to his study for a drink. Perhaps to toss several of the highball glasses at the stone grate, but he found that he didn't crave it anymore.
As she padded away, Astoria wondered at what stormy emotions she'd initially found him in. She'd been able to see the distress in him which, now that she had time to think on it, was slightly alarming. Worry sluiced through her briefly and she glanced over her shoulder.
Draco was striding away purposefully. Softly sighing, she faced forward again and wondered at herself and all these emotions she felt, that it was dangerous in so many ways.
Compelled, though he didn't know why, Draco looked back once more, but it was only to see her round the corner as she headed for her suite of rooms. He wasn't sure what it was he felt, but it felt something of disappointment.
Tiny frown to his brow, he faced forward again, steps finding time with the echoing, magical clock as it struck the witching hour.
Chapter 8
Author: Elle, aka elle_blessing
Characters: Draco/Ginny, Draco/Astoria
Rating: R
Word Count: ~28,000
Summary: In a world where Voldemort won the Second War, Draco finds himself in the fortuitous position of being one of the Dark Lord's favored. The love of two women will drive him to question who he is and what he has become, but it is betrayal that set in motion the beginning of the end.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKR’s sandbox, not mine.
Author’s Notes: This was written for the 2010 round of dracobigbang. I have taken the liberty of making Daphne and Astoria cousins instead of sisters, and Michael Corner is Astoria’s half-brother through marriage. Also, endless thanks go to fiery_flamingo, amazonmink, goddessvicky & mugglechump for helping me beta this story to make it fit for public consumption.
Chapters: Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI
@FanFic.net
Chapter 7
It was barely a tingle, just something that made the hair of her arms stand on end, but she knew that Draco was home. Astoria was getting better at reading the wards. It was both something one heard and felt and the longer she'd been in residence at Malfoy Manor, the more it seemed to resonate within her.
The estate was beginning to draw her in, claim her. It was a decidedly odd experience in all honesty. Such old magics as were laid in the foundations of her uncle's home and here in Malfoy Manor seemed to be sentient things, choosy of their masters and mistresses. Her father had told her that Greengrass Estate hadn't ever taken to Daphne's mother, that she'd been somewhat of a null in her own home until her early death in a miscarriage not long after her cousin had been born. Both mother and child had died, and uncle Devon had never remarried.
Astoria supposed she should be pleased that the magics several hundreds of years of Malfoys had laid into the foundations of the castle seemed to like her. It was odd to be accepted, to feel them occasionally slide over her skin, a weighted thing, but it would have been worse to feel the void. It was always worse to be without the magic than overdosed.
Such were her idle thoughts as she padded through the dark manor, mug of warm milk clutched in both hands. She was having trouble falling asleep and her mother had always given her warm milk when she was a child for such an ill. She was certainly no girl anymore, but the practice made her feel close to the woman who was no longer there.
Though, as she passed through the familiar shadows of the manor, Astoria wondered where Draco was coming from at such an hour. Several outlandish things sprung to mind, things the Dark Lord had commissioned he do. He hadn't ever said what he did for Voldemort, but her mind was always ready to supply her with grisly images. Such things were rarely congruous with the man she was slowly coming to know, however.
There was always the possibility he had a mistress.
Astoria didn't particularly like to dwell on such an option and it irritated her that she hedged around it so. It was the more likely of her explanations for his whereabouts, and she was even half sure there had to be someone. How a man like Draco would be without some kind of companionship she wasn't sure. He surely didn't seek her and hadn't in the handful of months they had been married.
Perhaps it was because she'd been caught up in her thoughts, but when a body swept around the corner right in her pathway, a startled yelp escaped her and the warm milk she'd been clutching went flying.
Right on Draco.
"Shite," Draco swore, angry glare looking for who had doused him. His wand was in hand, habit putting it there quickly when faced with any kind of unexpected danger, but the 'threat' that filled his gaze when he lifted his eyes was his wife; tiny, barely clothed and blinking at him with wide eyes.
Her image so soon after seeing Ginny was hard to reconcile in his mind, and the storm of his anger faltered as he dipped his head, wiped a finger at the liquid slowly seeping into his suit and robes.
"What the bloody hell is this?" It wasn't what he'd meant to say, but his face screwed up in confusion as he tried to study what she'd thrown at him in the candlelit hall.
There was a bevy of emotions littering the air around the tall man before her and it was surprising enough that Astoria only continued to blink at him for several long moments. She could so rarely read him, but just now he was projecting a lot, loudly; anger, first, hurt, perhaps?
It was his steady gaze that drew her own, though, and the confusion she read there had a tinkling laugh bubbling from her lips. Entirely the wrong reaction, she brought her hand up to cover her mouth as if to hide or stop herself. His further confusion and the way his face screwed up only served to make her laugh harder though, her shoulders gently shaking as she brought the other hand up then, trying the best she could to keep it inside.
He hadn't a clue what was so damn funny, but watching her dissolve into giggles of all things, her tiny frame shaking with it and the sound tinting the air, though muffled, had a smile curling Draco's lips. He still didn't know what was so amusing, but it was hard not to smile when Astoria was giggling, her whole body filled with mirth.
"It's milk," she was finally able to get out, hands fluttering as she took a step towards him, then two. Giggles still bubbled forth as her mind kept replaying the image of his face screwed up in confused bewilderment.
"I couldn't sleep," she explained, "and so I went to the kitchens for warm milk. My mother used to give it to me when I was young to help me doze off. I didn't expect anyone to scare my knickers off, though," she said wryly, voice still full of laughter as she slowly reached for the wand he held in his hand.
Only in her slip, she didn't have her own wand, but he didn't fight her taking his. Part of her was mildly surprised, but she was too mirthful just that moment to pay anything else much heed. "Here. My brother taught me some simple cleansing charms. He thought it was best to know at least a few practical spells," she explained before she flicked his wand, murmured the charm.
His wand was larger than her own, heavier, but the spell still seemed to work and she was pleased with herself when she finally looked up at him. "There."
It was Draco's turn to burst into laughter then. He wasn't sure exactly why the low rumbling chuckle was making his shoulders shake as he looked down at her. Perhaps the ridiculousness of the situation. Perhaps that combined with the fact that his emotions were already storming close to the surface.
Whatever it was, it felt good. A release, not unlike anger or passion. That Astoria was blinking at him again, surprise etching her features, only made him chuckle more.
"Scared your knickers off then?" he asked, a genuine smile curling his lips as he watched her.
"I douse you in warm milk and the only thing you can remember from all of the last ten minutes is the bit about knickers?" she said evenly, a single brow rising.
There was laughter in her eyes, however, a tiny curl to her lips, and Draco found he liked playing with her. "That sums it up nicely, yes."
"Typical man," she huffed, not quite able to hide the tiny grin that curled her lips.
She pushed his wand back into his hand then and bent to pick up her empty mug, making an internal note to tell the elves to scrub the whole area thoroughly in the morning.
Despite the events of the evening, the dark storm that had been in him when he'd left Ginny at Nightshade, Draco found himself lighter, the weight that had been riding him, less. He was not happy about what had transpired, but part of him was relieved that at least there was some kind of finality. Truth.
He had Astoria - his wife - to thank for lightening his mood, the weight on his shoulders. She'd done it unwittingly, even, and his gaze followed her as she retrieved her mug. Her silky slip was dark, the color of which he couldn't quite make out in the dimly lit hall, but it made her skin look even paler than he knew it to be. The contrast was stark, but lovely, as was her hair as it slid over her shoulders, down her back to melt seamlessly with the silk.
When Astoria stood, it was to find the laughter mostly gone from Draco's features, his eyes weighty as he watched her. It made her more aware of what she was wearing - and not wearing - and a faint blush tinted her skin. She was glad for the terrible lighting though, as it would likely pass by unnoticed.
"I think my taste for it has waned this eve, but I shall endeavor to find the sweetness of dreams regardless," she said then, compelled to fill the space with words. "With my knickers on," she added, lips curling wryly.
"Goodnight, Draco," she said softly as she slipped around him and continued on toward her rooms.
He turned and watched her pad lightly down the hall. Her footfalls didn't make any sound at all on the heavy Persian carpets lining the stone corridor, likely why he hadn't heard her coming in the first place. It was then he noticed she was barefoot as well, also tiny there, and his eyes lingered on the soft curve of her calf, the delicate sway of her hips.
"Goodnight," he said, more to himself than anything as she was too far away to hear him. His head tipped slightly before he pushed his current line of thought away, and proceeded in the opposite direction. He'd been on his way to his study for a drink. Perhaps to toss several of the highball glasses at the stone grate, but he found that he didn't crave it anymore.
As she padded away, Astoria wondered at what stormy emotions she'd initially found him in. She'd been able to see the distress in him which, now that she had time to think on it, was slightly alarming. Worry sluiced through her briefly and she glanced over her shoulder.
Draco was striding away purposefully. Softly sighing, she faced forward again and wondered at herself and all these emotions she felt, that it was dangerous in so many ways.
Compelled, though he didn't know why, Draco looked back once more, but it was only to see her round the corner as she headed for her suite of rooms. He wasn't sure what it was he felt, but it felt something of disappointment.
Tiny frown to his brow, he faced forward again, steps finding time with the echoing, magical clock as it struck the witching hour.
Chapter 8