i s o b e l
Isobel was not sure how long she had kissed Draco. One minute, maybe ten. Maybe longer.
All she knew was that for a short, blissful time, she had forgotten the world that lived on outside his apartment walls. Had forgotten her mother, and Lucius Malfoy, and everything that they had done. Had forgotten the silver necklace that still rested in the pocket of Draco's trousers.
She had kissed him under green, glowing plastic stars, and ignored that he might possibly marry someone else within a matter of months.
And now that person was standing in the doorway of Draco's bedroom.
For a long moment, everything seemed frozen. The seconds dragged: Draco and Isobel stood, speechless. Staring at Astoria, whose eyes were fixed on Isobel.
Then, Astoria flung a hand to her mouth, and the world was set in motion again.
Draco started forward; reached out a hand to her, but she stepped away.
"I'm sorry," gasped Isobel. "Astoria, I'm really sorry."
Astoria tilted her head. Her long, shiny hair rippled with the movement. "You're alive."
"Astoria," said Draco. "Let me explain."
From what Isobel had heard of Astoria, she had a temper to match her own; responded to situations of injustice with anger and outrage. So the long, calm, expressionless look that she gave Isobel now was incredibly unsettling.
"I came back here," she said, "because I thought I saw someone in Draco's room when I left. I didn't think that person would still be here when I returned." Her eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. "And I never, in a million years, thought that it might be you."
"I'm sorry," repeated Isobel. Astoria took a step backwards, threatening to run; so Isobel said, quickly, "there is so much to explain."
Astoria's face remained impassive. "You're alive," she said again, quietly. She turned to Draco. "All this time, she's been alive," she said. "So, what? This is some kind of sick joke? Against me, or against my family?"
"It's not like that," said Draco, his jaw pulled tight. "Just listen."
"Did you ever plan to marry me?" she asked. "Or was that a lie, too?"
"The engagement plans," said Draco, "were my parents' doing. Never mine. You know that, and if you give me a minute I can tell you everything you want to know -"
"What I want to know," said Astoria, a quiver of rage sounding in her voice, "is how the fuck your parents thought it was okay to marry you off when you're still in love with your ex-fucking-girlfriend. Who is supposed to be dead -"
"They didn't know I'm alive," Isobel said quickly. "Or, they did know, but then they didn't -"
Astoria's gaze shifted back to Isobel. "You're insane," she said. "You're all insane."
"Please," said Isobel. "Please, we just need you to listen -"
Astoria shook her head, her lip curled in disgust. "I'm leaving," she said.
She spun, and swept out of his room. Isobel met Draco's eyes, and a split-second later, they were both running after Astoria, down the stairs of the apartment building and into the lobby.
Together, they followed Astoria into the bitter cold. The roads were empty and silent, but for a sporadic passing taxi in the distance; headlights flooding the street and fading within seconds. Astoria's silhouette was crossing the street, her figure rapidly retreating.
"Astoria," Isobel called over the wind. "Please wait."
Astoria turned in the middle of the road. Wind whipped through her hair, blowing it around her face as she looked back; her face shadowed beneath the streetlights. Her eyes passed between Draco and Isobel, standing side by side. "How are you alive?"
"It's a long story," said Isobel. Her voice was faint in the wind, so she raised it; said, "It's complicated. Please come inside, and we'll tell you."
Astoria looked at Draco. "I don't want to speak to you," she told him. "I never want to speak to you again."
"For fuck's sake, Astoria," Draco said, and Isobel was startled by the roughness in his voice. "Let me explain. This happens every time we have an argument: you run, instead of just fucking talking about it."
"Only because you never want to talk about it," said Astoria coldly. "I've tried to talk through things with you so many times but every time, you shut me out. Well, now I'm shutting you out. Leave me alone."
"No." He shook his head. "I'm not leaving you alone, because I can't. I can't let you go off and tell your parents about this."
Astoria said nothing. Only glared at Draco, anger raging in her eyes.
"Fine," he said, and Isobel saw a muscle jump in his jaw. The restraint of his anger. "Isobel will tell you. And I'll go inside, and you don't ever have to speak to me again, if you don't want to. All I ask is that you try to understand."
They remained rooted in place, and for a moment, Isobel felt she shouldn't be there. Felt that despite Draco and Astoria's rifts and tensions, they knew each other - had known each other for a while, now - and she was just an outsider. An outsider, who had walked in and fanned the flames that already licked at their ankles. Had unintentionally created an inferno.
Astoria nodded, and Isobel heard Draco exhale the softest sigh of relief. He turned on his heel and walked back to the building, leaving them alone in the cold.
Isobel nodded to the stairs of his apartment building. "Shall we sit?"
Astoria crossed the pavement towards her, but did not sit down. She folded her arms over her chest. "How are you alive?"
"My mother enchanted a necklace that I was wearing," said Isobel. "It saved my life."
Astoria gave her a long, calculating look. "Impossible," she said, slowly. "I thought, maybe, it might have just been the Malfoy family who claimed you were dead. But Blaise said it to me; so did Daphne. Everyone thought you were gone."
Isobel nodded. "That was what Lucius and Narcissa wanted people to believe. My mother, too. She allowed everyone to believe I was killed in the battle. She and Draco's parents took my memories of him."
Something shifted in Astoria's expression. "You don't remember him?"
"I don't remember dating him."
"How did you find out that you did?"
"I found a letter," said Isobel. None of this was relevant, really, to what they needed from Astoria. But she would answer any question Astoria had, if it meant she would stay here. "I found a letter that he had written to me," she said, "and figured it out from there."
But Astoria didn't ask any more questions. She stared at Isobel, her eyes swimming with tears.
Isobel felt burning guilt, deep within her. "I'm sorry," she said. "I understand how you must feel."
"No," said Astoria. "No, you don't understand. I am so - humiliated -" Her voice broke. "I spent so much time begging Draco to make our engagement work, because I genuinely thought it was the best thing for both of us. Even if the marriage was our parents' idea. Even if they were the ones that had organised it all, I thought we would be happier together than we would be alone."
Astoria's eyes lifted to the windows of Draco's apartment, then fell back to Isobel. "I've been in that apartment so many times," she said. "And almost all of those times, I thought that Draco would one day be my husband. Even if we weren't ever officially engaged, I really believed it would come around to it, eventually. I had no idea that -" she broke off, dark eyebrows knitting together, "that behind my back -"
Isobel's heart skipped at the misunderstanding. "He didn't know," she said. "He didn't know I was alive until just last week."
"When?"
"Last Friday. Ginny - my friend - took me to this nightclub, that he was at too -"
Astoria closed her eyes. "I was there," she said, her voice dangerously quiet.
"He only really understood the next day, though."
She watched Astoria piece together the timeline. "So, when I saw him at the bar. He knew, then?"
Isobel hesitated. "Yes." She added, quickly, "We're in danger. His parents don't want us together, they want him to marry you. They can't find out he knows I'm alive."
"Why didn't he tell me, though?"
"Because he didn't trust you not to tell your parents. That's all. We wanted to tell you."
Astoria scoffed. She glanced up at Draco's apartment, then turned away. Shook her head, bitterly.
"I'm sorry," said Isobel, again. And from the bottom of her heart, she meant it. "I wish it wasn't like this."
"So kind of you."
"I do," said Isobel. "We didn't tell you in order to protect our own relationship. And that meant stringing you along in the process. I really am sorry for that."
Isobel was sure that Astoria was angry about much more than Draco hiding Isobel from her. She knew that her anger stemmed from the frustration of her life being laid out for her and those plans crumbling. Maybe it even stemmed from jealousy. But apologizing for this seemed like a good place to begin.
Astoria glared at the pavement. "I need to go," she said. "I need to be alone."
"Please don't tell anyone," said Isobel. Her voice came out thin, shamefully weak. "Please. Just for now, keep our secret."
Astoria stared at the pavement without saying anything. Isobel almost thought that she would leave, would simply Apparate away into the dark; but Astoria nodded. "Okay. For now."
Isobel breathed out a sigh of relief, and it fogged in the cold air. "Thank you."
Without another word, Astoria walked away.
Isobel turned, slowly, back to the apartment building. She looked up and saw Draco, at his window. His face angled to face her, one long leg resting on the windowsill. Watching.
When she reached the apartment again, he was already crossing the room to meet her. "Are you okay?"
Isobel nodded. "She won't tell anyone, for now."
"What did she say?"
"Well," said Isobel. "She wasn't happy with either of us. Whether she'll speak to you again is up for debate."
Draco frowned. "I don't care if she speaks to me again."
A small, selfish part of Isobel wished that were true. But even if Draco had no romantic interest in Astoria, Isobel knew that he would mind if they never spoke again. Would, at the very least, feel guilty about having hurt her.
"She said she wouldn't tell her parents," she said. "That's all that matters for now."
"I don't think we can trust that."
"No?"
Draco shook his head. "Astoria acts on emotion. Overreacts when she's angry. Maybe she'll keep her word, but I don't think we should trust her."
"Okay," said Isobel quietly. "So what do we do?"
"You should go back to your house," he said. "At least for a while."
Isobel didn't say anything. She had known that was what he might suggest. She just hadn't wanted to hear it.
Draco brushed his thumb against her scar. "I know you hate it there," he said. "But I'm afraid someone will storm in here again."
She looked into the black fabric of his shirt. Wanted to reach out and curl her hand into it, but could not push the image of Astoria's livid, betrayed expression from her mind.
She settled for saying, weakly, "Will you come with me?"
He moved his hand from her cheekbone, down the side of her face, and grazed his thumb over her jawline. "I'll Apparate with you. But I need to stay here in case someone comes looking."
Isobel blinked away tears. "Alright."
"I'll visit you tomorrow," he said. "In the morning."
She nodded. "Alright."
Five minutes later, she had gathered her things, and they were back in his living room; ready to Apparate.
"I'll visit you tomorrow," he said, again.
He didn't promise. They were in no position to make promises.
She held his gaze a moment longer. "Are you going to keep up the stars?"
"I'll keep them up forever," he said. "If forever is enough for you."
She mustered a smile. "Forever will do."
Draco took her hand in his. "Ready?"
"Ready."
Together, they Apparated. She clung to his arm, moved closer to him. Within seconds, their feet were finding solid ground, and they were standing in the driveway of her countryside house. She stared at the house; at its lightless windows and the trees that curled around it. She felt very numb.
Draco dipped his head to speak into her ear. "Be brave, Gryffindor," he mumbled.
Then, with a crack, he was gone.