Apus is a small constellation that represents a bird-of-paradise. These birds mostly live in the tropical islands of Papa New Guinea, and are known for their beautiful, vivid plumes of feathers.

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The minutes ticked by as he sat in the darkness. Angel should have been here about twenty minutes ago, and he was starting to become restless. He picked gingerly at the lint on his jacket and thought about Hogsmeade today.

Cedric Diggory. What a massive plonker. Always there to save the day, wasn't he! And how did he know Angel didn't like pumpkin pasties? She had only told him that and not Cedric, surely? Their secret meetings in the Tower were special. The fact she had shared this same personal information with someone else was a slight against their friendship.

The way she let him put his arm around her, like she belonged to him, like they were together. Why did she let him do that? He must do it very often, because she had been smiling. What did that ditzy Hufflepuff boy have that he did not?

He suddenly remembered what Pansy had told him back at the pub. It must be Angel then, the person Cedric was seeing. Thorns of jealousy prickled his heart.

To think she had actually tried to talk with him before Cedric had come, and he had been rude for no reason at all. Maybe that was the reason she had decided not to come tonight. Probably canoodling with Diggory in their stupid Hufflepuff dorm, laughing about how Pathetic Draco Malfoy was dating Pug-Faced Pansy Parkinson.

"Hey, Malfoy!" Angel almost tripped on the landing before flumping down next to him, trying to catch her breath. "Sorry I was late, but you'll know why in a second, promise!" She adjusted the heavy-looking basket that hung in the nook of her arm.

"What's that?" he asked.

She was beaming from ear to ear as she set the basket down and pulled out a blanket, which she spread carefully on the floor on the deck. "Come on! Sit!" She patted the space beside her. He did so, all while staring at her in confoundment.

She took out two bowls from the basket, and he could see now that it was filled with a bunch of fruits. A flask of something was tucked in there as well. She retrieved the fruits one by one - three apples, two oranges, a mango, and a bunch of grapes. Then, fishing out a small knife from her pocket, began slicing them into the bowls.

"Would you just tell me what you're doing?" he demanded impatiently.

"It's for us! Nicked these from the kitchen." She looked pleased with herself as the blade pierced the paper-thin skin of the fruit. "That's why I was late."

"You? You stole from the kitchen? I mean, you actually stole something?" He wanted to laugh.

"Shut up, Malfoy. Look at this mango, it's perfect! It only grows in tropical climates, but the house elves managed to get some! You do like mangoes, don't you?" She finished cutting the last of the fruit and put away the knife.

"Never had them."

She held out his bowl, and he took it, still very much confused. "Why you're doing this?"

"I just don't see you eating much," she said, popping an orange slice into her mouth. "Since I have easy access to the kitchen, I figured we could have some. You need the energy to continue being dark and broody." She laughed at her own joke.

He shook his head at her, but could not stop the corners of his mouth from turning up. She gestured at him to eat. Hesitantly, he picked up a cube of mango, studying it in the moonlight.

"This isn't Herbology! Just try it, it's gorgeous." She kissed her fingers, mimicking an Italian chef.

He put the soft flesh into his mouth, a burst of honey-sweetness immediately enveloping his tastebuds. He did not want to admit it, but it was indeed delicious.

Angel leaned back, propping herself up with her elbows. "It's beautiful tonight."

"You say that every night," he mumbled, but as usual, she only chuckled.

It was a beautiful night. Cold, but beautiful. From so high up, they could only see the snowfall and nothing much beyond.

The fruits were fresh and sweet, and he was surprised she had even noticed his recent loss of appetite. Did that mean she looked for him during meals too? Even with stupid Diggory always fawning around her?

She got up suddenly and disappeared into the shadows behind them, before reappearing once more, dragging a telescope out to the front. Her bowl of fruit was soon forgotten as she twisted this knob and that, smiling to herself every so often as she spotted Merlin-knew-what in the sky.

She was unhealthy addicted to that thing, he thought somewhat affectionately as he watched her in silence, popping another grape into his mouth. She seemed content for a few minutes just looking at the stars before she turned around and pulled the flask from the basket.

"Almost forgot this!" she exclaimed, uncorking it. "Firewhiskey."

He almost choked. "What! The fruits weren't enough? You had to steal Firewhiskey too?"

"Come on, Malfoy. You look like you need it." She took a sip and held out the flask.

He wasn't even going to ask her what she meant by that as he drank. The liquid burned pleasantly down his throat. She looked at him as if to say I told you so, before turning back to her telescope.

They fell back into another bout of comfortable silence, taking turns to sip from the flask.

"Draco," she muttered suddenly, her eyes locked onto the eyepiece. He startled. The last time she had said his first name was way back in their first year.

"What is it?"

"No," she giggled, motioning for him to come. "It's Draco, the constellation. Look." 

He scooted over and winked into the telescope. "I don't see anything," he huffed.

She pushed him aside gently and pointed to the stars. "There!" she said, tracing the points with her fingers. "Do you see it?"

His shoulder burned where her hand still lingered. She was swaying a little, leaning into him. Her face was dangerously close to his, and he could smell her freshly-washed hair and warm floral scent. If he inclined his head just a few inches, their lips would meet.

All this while, she had always made sure she kept a comfortable distance from him. Every time she moved too close, instinct told him to back away. But now, he was acutely aware of the way her hands moved along with her voice, and the urge to hold them was overwhelming.

Heat rushed to his cheeks, and he felt himself growing red, but caught himself quickly and cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah," he lied.

"You're in the stars, Malfoy!"

She turned to smile at him, and he froze. 'Dazzled' would have been the perfect word to describe how he felt right then. Her eyes were sparkling, and against the backdrop of soft, drifting snow, she looked absolutely beautiful. 

He felt unable to tear his gaze away from her, to look at anything else. Maybe it was the Firewhiskey, but in that moment, he knew that if he touched her, his entire being would be set ablaze.

"Hey, Malfoy? Thanks for doing this." Her voice slurred, but her eyes looked like they had the entire night sky trapped within them.

"Doing what?"

She shrugged. "Listening. Watching the stars with me. It... it reminds me of the nights I spent with my dad. Makes me feel close to them." 

Her smile was sincere, her eyes downturned in unfiltered delight. No one had ever smiled at him like that before, and he did not know how to return it.

She lay back down on the blanket and closed her eyes. Her fingers toyed absentmindedly with her necklace, the one she never seemed to take off. "I wish you could've met them. They would've liked you a lot."

He could only stare at her. She was definitely slightly drunk. Why else would she be saying all these things?

The effects of the whiskey were starting to hit him as well. His body felt like a balloon that would lift off the ground and float away at any moment. "How's Cedric?" he asked, laying down beside her.

"He's is great, isn't he?"

"Not really."

"Why not? He's smart, kind, understanding... and so, so good to me. He cares for me so much."

I do too, he almost blurted. "Bit arrogant, don't you think?" he said instead, his voice drawling like hers. "Always strutting about like he's all that."

Angel laughed breezily and lolled her head to the side to look at him. "You do realise you do that too? Walk about like you're all that."

"I'm a Malfoy."

"And?"

"I am all that."

She giggled again, the sound echoing into the night sky like piano notes.

"How do you do it, Angel? How are you so happy all the time? Even after your parents..." He trailed off, wondering if he was going to regret asking this.

She thought about his question for a while. "I don't know," she said. "You just look at the world... and it's so beautiful, you know? Bad things happen, sure, but think about it. You've survived all of your worst days, haven't you? You're unstoppable! Look at the stars, look at the moon, look at the snow. There's so much to live for. That's what my dad told me. It's just nice to be alive."

But my worst day is yet to come, he thought. "Sounds like bullshit."

"So do a lot of things you believe in, Malfoy."

She had said this tenderly, but the words shot him like arrows. "It's okay to feel angry and jaded," she continued. "But it's like what Dumbledore said to us before, isn't it?"

Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.

He remembered this silently before thinking of his own parents. Their world was all he had ever known. Never let them see weakness, boy, Lucius would rap him on the knuckles with his staff and say. They'll grab it by the neck and strangle you. They'll destroy you. And us Malfoys, we cannot - and will NOT - be destroyed.

He repeated those words out loud for Angel, and she turned to face him fully, resting one arm under her cheek. The other reached out to brush the hair back from his forehead. A thousand volts of electricity zapped and crackled where her fingertips had grazed his skin.

She made him want to grab her and run away, but also lay out here under the stars forever. He wanted to chase her down the hallways and across the fields, but also hold her close and hug her to sleep. It was like he wanted to do a thousand things at once, and also absolutely nothing at all. He felt... alive.

"The strudel," he said out of the blue.

"Hmm?"

"The strudel... from Madam Puddifoot's."

She nodded drowsily. "The one Pansy liked... What about it?"

"It wasn't for Pansy." His voice was quiet as he averted his eyes. "It was... it was for you. That's what I've been meaning to tell you, before- well, I mean... Angel, I have to ask. Are you going out with Diggory? I mean, really going out him."

"What's it to you?" She puckered her face like his, mimicking his words from earlier that day and laughing, but quickly became serious again when he failed to join in. "What's wrong? Are things alright with you and Pansy?"

"You fancy Diggory a lot, don't you?" he pressed woozily, not feeling a hundred percent in control of himself.

"I do," she sighed wistfullly, and his heart plummeted. "He's terribly kind, and funny too... He looks out for me, you know? I don't need him to, but he does anyway. And it's nice, feeling taken care of. Strange, isn't it? There's Cho, Hermoine, Hannah, Susan, Luna, and yet... he chose me..." Angel smiled contentedly at the thought and closed her eyes once more.

He wanted to tell her that none of them would ever hold a candle to her, that she shone brighter than a thousand flames; that she was a prism, and if one day darkness were to shroud his eyes forever, he would have still seen her colours.

"Angel..." he whispered. "What would you do if... if you knew I choose you too?"

She was silent. He held his breath, listening to the sound of her breathing and watching her sides rise and fall in tempo. She had fallen asleep.

Slowly and quietly, so as not to wake her, he took off his jacket and placed it on her curled up figure.

The wind slung icicles through his back, but he barely noticed. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and her dark tendrils fluttered weightlessly in the wind. Against the stark black covering, she looked positively angelic. It took him everything not to put his arms around her.

Instead, he reached out as close as he could, his fingertips resting just a millimetre away from hers. Touching, but not quite. He did not dare.

He also tried not to look at her lips again, because all he could think about in that moment was what it would be like to kiss Angel Dawson.

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A/N:
Hey babes! This was by far one of my favourite chapters to write. I truly love Angel and Draco so much. I tried to capture Draco's quiet and blossoming love for her with words but I don't know if you can imagine the scene as well! 🥺

Let me know what you think in the comments!