d r a c o

His room was transformed. Stars shone from the ceiling, the wardrobe, the walls; glowing green and dim.

Belly's silhouette; her curly hair, faced him in their centre. Awaiting his response.

Draco had spent long months lying in this room, feeling nothing but apathy. Utter unwillingness to do anything or go anywhere, little care for anything or anyone. Staring at the blank walls and seeing nothing but grey.

Having her here, with him, made him feel like he had energy again. Like he could actually deal with life, again. Maybe even enjoy it.

And his breath was catching; a thousand words were hitching on the tip of his tongue, because he didn't know how to express how unbelievable it was that she was here, in front of him; that they had just stuck plastic stars to his walls together... It was astonishing. She was astonishing.

Belly drew her wand from her waistband and waved it at the stars. In unison, their glow intensified, the room became lighter, and he could now make out her features, tinged green; her dark eyes blinking up at him. "Is that better?"

"Yes," he said, reaching for her hand. "Thank you. This is good."

And then her fingers were on his again; the lightest brush, the faintest touch of skin. One that he had felt a thousand times before, but it was enough to set all his nerve endings on edge. "Thank you," he said, again, his voice low.

He stepped closer. Heard her take a shaky breath, but she too was moving closer, and her eyes darted to his lips and he knew - he knew that the world did not want them to be together and all hell might break loose if they resisted that, but all he could see was her; all he could feel was her fingers curling into his -

She took another step closer. And then his front door burst open.

He pushed Belly away, out of sight, into a corner by the head of his bed. Then he ripped open his bedroom door.

His gut tightened with anger as he caught sight of Astoria walking in.

"Astoria," he said, through gritted teeth. In the brink of his vision, he saw Belly step closer. He gave her the slightest, most imperceptible shake of his head that he could manage.

"Draco," Astoria replied haughtily. "I know we'll see one another at Christmas, but I would rather sort it out now." She combed her dark hair behind her shoulders. "Without our families watching."

Draco blinked. "Sort what out?"

Astoria stared at him. "Everything," she said, heatedly. "This entire mess. I haven't been able to focus on anything else, since our argument at the bar."

"I - fuck." Draco closed his eyes, head reeling. He knew he owed her an explanation, but Belly was standing feet away from him - feet away from Astoria, and all he could think about was getting Astoria out of his apartment and away from them.

He opened his eyes. "What's today's date?"

"The twenty-second," said Astoria. "My family is visiting yours for Christmas dinner on Saturday. Heavens, Draco, you need to get it together -"

"Let's just wait until Christmas," said Draco. "Alright, Astoria? Our families will help us figure it out."

"They're not our therapists," spat Astoria. She took another step towards him; stopped by his couch. Draco leant against the doorframe and looked steadily back at her. Prayed that she wouldn't come any closer. "We're adults, Draco," she said. "We have to figure this out on our own. They've sorted out every other element of this marriage for us; we have to take some responsibility ourselves."

"What happened to hating arranged marriage?"

"That's the point," she said. "Our parents are literally determining the course of our lives, and as we don't have much say in it, I'd prefer we figure out how to bloody communicate with each other on our own."

Draco glanced over his shoulder at Belly - saw her widened eyes, urging him to tell her. But Astoria would see his parents on Saturday, and he could not risk them finding out that he knew Belly was alive.

"I don't want to talk about this right now," he said gruffly. "Also, I'd really, really appreciate it if you knocked, the next time you decide to show up unannounced."

"Why?" asked Astoria, narrowing her eyes. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, but -"

She nodded behind him, at his bedroom. "Have you got a girl in there, or something?"

"Astoria," he said coolly, "who would I possibly have in my bedroom?"

She returned his gaze with a steely glare. "Some muggle girl, I don't know. I don't even care anymore." She crossed her arms. "I never expected us to have anything more than a platonic relationship but I hoped that that would be enough for you. And if it's not, I'd like you to tell me now so that I can save myself the embarrassment."

"For God's sake -"

"Answer me truthfully," she said. "Do you plan to marry me or not?"

"I don't have time for this right now."

"You never have time for this!" said Astoria, raising her voice. Her eyes filled with tears, and Draco saw Belly take yet another step closer -

"When are you ever going to pay attention to anyone but yourself?" asked Astoria. "When are you ever going to face reality and realise who you are, and who your family is and the duty you have -"

She broke off, taking a shuddering breath. Draco saw the tears on her cheeks, and his gut twisted with guilt. But it was not enough for him to tell her the truth. So he kept his mouth shut, and said nothing.

Astoria shook her head in disbelief. She stormed to his front door, flung it open. "You never make any effort," she told him, her voice icy, "and I don't want to bloody marry you either."

She left, slamming the door behind her. Draco heard her footsteps stomping away, all the way down the stairs.

i s o b e l

The moment the door slammed, Isobel ran to the window. She just wanted to see Astoria. If she wasn't allowed to talk to her.

The front door of the apartment building opened with a bang, and Astoria stormed out; stalked off through the frosty weather.

Then she stopped, whipped her head back to look up at Draco's apartment; long hair flying in the wind. And for a split-second, her eyes rested on Isobel.

Isobel sprang back, out of sight; hurried to the living room, to Draco.

"I think she saw me," said Isobel. "Actually, no. No, she probably didn't -"

The colour drained from Draco's face. "She saw you?"

"No," said Isobel. "I probably just imagined it. Her eyes met mine for just a second, but surely she couldn't see through the window. Right?"

Draco stared at her. "I don't know."

"No," said Isobel. She let out a nervous laugh. "No, I probably imagined it."

"I don't trust her not to tell her parents," he said tensely. His grey eyes fixed onto hers. "I know it's not fair."

"None of this is fair," she said quietly.

The whole, horrible mess. The way she couldn't see even a day into her own future. None of it was fair in the slightest.

"She can't know you're alive," said Draco. "She can't. Too many people already know."

Isobel breathed out; let the tension run from her shoulders. "I'm so sick," she said, "of being a secret. I just want to be normal."

He raised his hand. Brushed the back of one knuckle ever so lightly against the scar on her cheekbone. "I know. I'm sorry."

Isobel's chest felt tight, her breath all caught in her lungs. It felt as though everything was turning against them; that every person that existed outside of this apartment was pitted against them; strived to tear them apart.

"It's late," she said, though she didn't feel tired at all. "Let's go to sleep."

-

She showered, and changed back into Draco's sweatpants; looped them twice around her waist, stuck her wand into their waistband. She could have picked up pyjamas from her own house. But she liked the way Draco's clothes smelt like him; liked the way the sleeves of his hoodie hung over her palms, the way the sweatpants pooled at her feet.

She opened the door to let the steam escape. Then she squeezed toothpaste onto her toothbrush and began to brush her teeth.

She thought of Astoria's confusion, her determination; her loyalty to Draco and to her parents. She wished that Astoria could be on their side - that she didn't want to go along with the plan her parents had for her. She wished they could just - tell her everything, that maybe she could help them; tell them what to do.

She knew that Draco didn't want to marry Astoria. But only now, Isobel was starting to realise that she didn't want him to marry Astoria, either.

She really, really didn't.

She wiped the condensation from the mirror, and looked at her reflection. Saw her damp hair; saw the heat, pink on her cheeks -

Then Draco appeared behind her.

Without saying anything, he leant over her. Picked up the toothpaste and squeezed it onto his own toothbrush, then began to brush his teeth.

She stared at him in the mirror. A smirk tugged at the side of his mouth, and she realized that she had stopped brushing her teeth; hand frozen in place as she looked at him.

She turned on the spot, to face him: leant back against the sink, and began to brush her teeth again. She tried her very best to keep her composure - raised her eyebrows and blinked up at him - but her cheeks were hot and her heart was thudding and Draco was so very close to her -

His faint smirk stayed in its place. Then, he placed one hand on her hip.

Seconds passed, and he tilted an eyebrow at her, and she realised what he was waiting for. Isobel took a breath, and then she nodded.

Draco caught his toothbrush between his teeth, and Isobel's eyes fell to his mouth; his lips that were ever so slightly parted -

He placed a hand on her other hip, and she nodded, again. His grey eyes flicked between hers and she raised her hand; ran it, lightly, along the line of his jaw -

Draco moved his hands up; his touch feather-light, his movements achingly, teasingly slow. Moved them up, up; under his own jumper that she was wearing, until his hands found bare skin. They found the curve of her waist, and he rested them there.

And Isobel's heart was thundering now, was beating so fast she was sure he could hear it, and she cursed the toothbrushes in their mouths, mere obstacles in their way -

Draco leaned past her, and she heard him spit out his toothpaste. He dropped one hand to rinse his mouth.

He stepped back, and gave her the smallest, most innocent of smiles; amusement dancing in his eyes. And then his hand dropped from the curve of her waist, and he turned, and left the bathroom.

Isobel stared after him. She turned, slowly, and rinsed out her own mouth; all of her nerve endings tingling from the loss of his touch on her waist.

She pushed open the bathroom door slowly. The lights were off in Draco's apartment. He was sitting at the end of his bed, resting back on his arms. His head tilted up at the room of green stars.

She sat beside him, and curled a leg up underneath her.

His grey eyes slid to her. "What are you going to do," he asked, voice slow; "when I leave for Christmas? Where are you going to go?"

She raised a shoulder. "Maybe I can visit my mother for a while," she said. "It doesn't matter. I don't mind spending it alone."

The faint crease between his eyebrows appeared. "I don't want you to spend it alone."

"With everything that's going on right now," said Isobel, "Christmas doesn't feel all that important to me. Maybe next year I can celebrate it."

Her chest tightened as she thought about that. She had absolutely, entirely, no idea what the next year might bring. She had no idea if she would still know Draco, next Christmas.

"I have to go to the Manor," said Draco. "If I'm not there by Christmas Eve, they'll come looking for me."

"That's okay," said Isobel. "You can go."

He turned his face to her. "But what if I go," he said quietly, "and I never see you again? What if I go, and you forget about me? What if I forget about you?"

Isobel didn't know. She didn't know what could happen in three days' time: didn't even know what could happen in the next few hours. All she knew was that they were both here, right now. That of all the moments that waited for them, in the courses that their lives would take - this was the one moment that they could control.

So she leaned forward, centimetres. And she pressed a kiss to his cheekbone.

Then another, lower on his cheek. And another, just a little lower. Then she left one more kiss, on the corner of his mouth.

She leant back, heart speeding; took a breath. And within seconds, Draco's hands were reaching for her. Finding the gap between her hoodie and sweatpants again; pulling her back to him.

And then his hands were running across her bare back; her skin warming at his touch. And she was climbing across his lap -

She looked down at him, and she was so certain - so very positive - that he could hear her heart now, thudding in her chest. His face was tilted up to her; hard, strong lines; blazing grey eyes. And her fingers were resting on the back of his neck, her legs were placed firmly on either side of his; and she knew that they were doing nothing more than counting the seconds until -

She dipped her head, and closed the space between them. And finally, finally - she kissed him.

At first, they moved slowly. His lips were so warm, so much softer than she might have imagined but somehow, so familiar - and his hands were gentle on her back, pulling her nearer -

She curled her fingers into his hair, needing to be closer. She moved into him, moved nearer, and his hands ran across her back, his fingers dug into the soft skin on the sides of her abdomen, and soon their movements grew impatient, grew desperate - and she was knotting her fingers into his hair and pulling him up, wanting him closer - 

Somewhere in the distance, faintly, there was a knock. But Isobel could barely hear it, could not focus on anything but him, and his hands on her skin, running his palms underneath a t-shirt that wasn't even hers, but his -

The knock came again, and Draco stilled. Isobel pulled back, her hands still in his hair.

They stared at each other; breaths coming fast. And she could not tear her eyes from his, but the knocking persisted -

She dropped a hand and touched her fingers to his swollen lips. And then he was pulling her back down, pressing kisses to her jawline, and she found the hem of his t-shirt, ran her hand under it and up, over his chest. Both gentler now; both less impatient.

The sound came of Draco's apartment door banging open, and then Astoria's voice: "I know you told me to knock but I'm not going to bother bloody knocking if you won't answer the door -"

Her footsteps sounded across the living room.

And Isobel was getting up, detangling herself from Draco, and he too was standing, his eyes on her, frantic -

And she had barely taken a step towards the bathroom when his bedroom door burst open, and Astoria's eyes settled on her.