A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Thirty-One

He's delighted that Blaise is more like himself than he has been in years, without the shadow of fear clouding over him. Blaise hasn't genuinely laughed for a very long time, and if Ron Weasley is the first one to make him do that, then Draco has the highest respect for him.

However, it's not enough to make him okay with the fact that they're moving too fast, really. And Blaise won't see that because he's a sucker for boys with pretty smiles. And dare Draco say it, Ron Weasley does have a very nice smile.

And he plays sports. And he's the best friend of the Savior of the Wizarding World. And he's actually a very nice, understanding person. And he is definitely smarter than he leads on.

Blaise got the whole package really, and he's happy. So why does he feel this way?

You know nothing about relationships.

That's not true. Draco was in a relationship with Astoria Greengrass before her family moved to Spain. A lovely witch, very gentle and loving. With her dark hair and her flawless complexion. She always moved around gracefully, her hair floating behind her weightlessly.

Astoria was a beautiful girl. Even after she became sick. She was equally as kind and generous. And even though Astoria was younger, she had this old soul, this soothing aura about her that made Draco feel safe.

She had become one of Draco's favorite people, and it hurt him to watch her get thinner and thinner by the day. He would cry at her bed side, hold her hand delicately as to not crush her frail bones.

But she would always wipe the tears from his blotchy cheeks and smile slowly, tiredly.

"My dear Draco," she'd say quietly. "You mustn't cry on my bedside."

"But...you are dying."

"We all are, love."

"But I do not want you to die."

She'd smile, in that lovely way she did. "No one wants to. But it must happen."

"You are okay with it? You are okay with dying? With leaving me?"

"I won't leave you, ever. I'll always be with you. Wherever you go, you'll take me, in your heart."

And when he'd cry harder, she would just hum. Astoria had the most beautiful voice. Soft, like a queen.

"You don't love me like I love you, I know this. And it is alright. Because the time I've had with you has been the most wonderful. You are a brave soul, Draco. And you will thrive. I know it."

"I need you with me," he'd sniffle. "To do that. You can't go."

"If I don't go, you won't grow. We all need to go one way or another, love. My time just happened to come sooner."

"Are you not mad? Your life is being ripped from you!"

"I've come to terms with it," and she'd lay her head down on her pillow, exhausted. "It's no use putting up a fight if all it will do is tire me further. I have lovely news, as well."

"What is it?"

"My father has found a doctor in southern Spain. He wishes to move there for the time being, to see if the treatments will better me."

Hope had blossomed in his chest that day, and he had hugged her goodbye a million times the morn they sought new treatments in Spain.

He visited quite once, after the trials were over, and he never cried at her bedside again.