TW: PTS symptoms
Note: lil spicy scene!

Retrograde refers to the period when a planet or asteroid appears to stop briefly and backtrack in the sky because of the changing viewing perspective caused by Earth's orbital motion.

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"-and then Ron here, said - very bravely, might I add - 'you let my girlfriend go!' But then! He drops his wand!" Hermione touched Ron's shoulder as she giggled.

"Sounds like you've got the makings of a fantastic Auror, Ronald!" Hannah guffawed. Everyone at the table joined in the laughter, and Ron turned pink. "Piss off, Hannah!"

"What happened next?" asked Susan as she popped a cherry tomato into her mouth.

"I had to save the day, of course," Hermione chattered on. "Kicked Abigor in the shin and wriggled out. That distracted him enough, then Harry blasted him with the Jelly-Legs curse. He fell down all... floopy and weird."

"Jelly-Legs curse?" I interjected suddenly. They turned to look at me in surprise, and across me, Hannah rolled her eyes at my insolence. "I didn't know Aurors used amateur spells like that."

"They have to incapacitate them first, you see," explained Hermione politely for Ron. "Then they can arrest and take them in for questioning. They can't just barge in there and attack them. There are rules to be followed as proper Aurors. Funny spells like the Jelly-Legs curse make their job so much more interesting!"

I scoffed, bringing the wine glass to my lips. All this talk about Abigor was making me uncomfortable. I had not forgotten what his son had tried to do, but it bloody well seemed like everyone else had.

"So what happened to him?" I enquired casually.

"Oh, his son?" Ron jumped in. "No worries, mate, he'll be trialed too. You know... for attempted murder... and whatnot..." He trailed off and a dull thump sounded from under the table as Hermione kicked him.

A silence befell the table as everyone turned back to their food awkwardly. Some Christmas, this was.

Susan cleared her throat and opened her mouth to say something when Angel burst from the kitchen, carrying two plates of cakes. "Pudding!" she sang.

A round of cheers and 'yes!'s circled the table, everyone grateful for the distraction. "That looks amazing, Angel!" Neville grinned, already poised to cut a piece for himself. "I reckon it's the best pudding in Britain!"

"Careful you don't choke, Longbottom," I muttered under my breath.

"Alright, that's it!" Hannah threw down her fork suddenly, startling everyone. "You know, you don't have to be such a twat all the time, Malfoy."

"I'm just worried about your stupid boyfriend here," I shot back. "Don't want him falling down on his fat arse again now, do we!"

"Don't get smart. If you don't shut that gob of yours..."

"What, you're going to set me on fire?"

"Oh, there's definitely something of yours I'd like to set on fire," said Hannah sweetly.

"DRACO! HANNAH! Stop it, the BOTH of you!"

I don't think anyone had ever heard Angel raise her voice in anger before. It was harsh, piercing, and frankly, rather intimidating. Hannah and I shrank back into our seats obediently.

"It's Christmas," Angel sighed, sinking into the chair next to me. "Well, not for another two days. But can't we all just... get along for once?"

I very much wanted to argue that it was not my fault Longbottom was such a greedy git. But of course, I couldn't ever say no when she was looking at me like that. I nodded reluctantly, and so did Hannah.

Everyone held out their plates as Angel heaped pudding onto them. "So, what were you guys talking about earlier?" she asked brightly. Ron and Harry started blabbering about their jobs again, and the tension in the air soon dissipated.

I refused to participate in their conversation, choosing to seethe in silence as I sipped my wine. I still detested the lot of them. Arrogant pricks, waltzing about like they're all that. What was all the big fuss about being an Auror, honestly.

There was a moment when Angel rested her hand on my knee as she laughed. All of a sudden, it felt like I, myself, had been cursed with the Jelly-Legs jinx. I reached for her leg under the table cloth, drawing circles on her inner thighs with my fingers. She wasn't looking at me, but I felt her muscles tense beneath the thin fabric of her dress. I thought of later, when we would have the house to ourselves - the things I'd do to her.

Had I been paying attention, I would've caught the context of their conversation, and I would've known Angel had egged Ron on to show her how they had captured Barnabas. But of course, I hadn't been listening.

So when Ron suddenly pulled out his wand and aimed it at Angel, I immediately leapt from my seat and pulled her behind me.

"Stupefy!"

Immediately, Ron was thrown backwards, toppling over his chair and falling to the ground unconscious. Everyone stared at the wand in my hand, dumbfounded.

"He- he was... I thought he was..." I stammered in confusion. Why had he been trying attack Angel?

Hermione fell to Ron's side, touching her wand to his chest and uttering the Reviving spell. He coughed and spluttered as his eyes blinked open slowly.

"Ron, I'm so sorry!" Angel pushed past me to help Hermione heave him to his feet.

"It's getting late," Harry commented, pretending to look at his watch. "Think it's best if we headed home."

Angel looked like she was about to protest, but instead chose to look on defeatedly as they gathered their things. I remained at the table, still in shock, while she saw them to the door. There was a chorus of farewells and 'Merry Christmas's as she bid them goodnight.

"I can stay," I heard Susan say worriedly to Angel as she pulled on her coat. "Help you clean up and all that." Angel only smiled and shook her head.

"You sure you're alright? I know it's been a tough year... for the both of you. "

"I'll be fine, Suze. Don't worry. Love you, and Merry Christmas."

The door clicked shut, and we were alone again. I was still frozen at the dining table, wand in hand like an idiot as Angel started clearing the table. She worked in silence, deftly stacking the plates and gathering the cutlery.

"I'm sorry," I blurted. She gave me a brief smile before going into the kitchen. I knew she was disappointed. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment. I hastily pocketed my wand and began collecting the remaining bowls and half-empty wine glasses.

She stood by the sink, watching the enchanted brush scrub the dishes. Even with the invisible grey cloud hanging over her, she still looked breathtaking in her navy-blue satin dress. Polaris shone in its little orb against her bare clavicle.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled again. "I- I thought he was going to attack you. I mean, I know he wasn't. I don't know why I thought that, really."

"I know. It's alright Draco," she said half-heartedly. I knew it wasn't alright. Panicking a little, I took her waist and brought her close to me. "It's just- they've taken you away so many times. I can't let that happen again. I can't lose you." Just thinking of that possibility made me sick to my stomach. I needed her to understand this.

She huffed and put her arms around me. "I'm here with you, Draco. And you're here with me. I just wish you'd make an effort with them. They're my friends. I would do the same for yours."

She was being generous. We both knew I did not have any friends of my own.

"I'll try. I promise." I closed my eyes against her head, and we stood in the kitchen, just hugging. It was comfort like I have never known.

I tilted her chin and kissed her, which she accepted readily. They soon became heavier, and my hands began to travel over her body - down her back, over the mounds and dips. She moaned softly into my mouth. That was all I needed. I swooped her up without warning and carried her up the stairs and into her - I mean our - room.

"What about the dishes!" she yelled, struggling in my arms. "Screw the dishes," I growled, throwing her onto the bed.

My mouth crashed back into hers and we kissed hungrily. Her fingers fumbled to unbutton my shirt, and I slid my fingertips up her thighs, pushing back her dress.

Over the months, I had learned to read her body like a book. Every tensed tendon, every flinch, every minuscule expression. So when her muscles suddenly stiffened again, I took my hands off her immediately, and my words slipped between our shared breaths. "Is this alright?"

"Y-yes," she whispered shakily. "Just kiss me."

I obeyed, but slower this time. Her dress slipped easily over her head, and I nipped at her neck, causing goosebumps to erupt over her skin.

She made quick work of undoing my belt and pants, palming me through my underwear. "Fuck," I grunted into her shoulder.

It wasn't long before the both of us were fully undressed. Our movements were tender, and our kisses passionate, as we savoured each other.

"I love you, Draco," she panted at one point. It consumed me with a fire, and I thrust into her harder than ever.

It was the one time in a handful that we could have each other completely. Fear did not exist, and we were unstoppable. Infinite.

I love you too.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The late December wind howled outside in the balcony, throwing the snow like a hurricane. Behind the glass doors, I was comfortable under the warm silk sheets. In a brief waking moment, I turned to my side and my eyes fluttered open.

Angel lay beside me, fast asleep. I scooted closer, placing my fingertips just where hers rested. It was surreal how I had done this that one time in the Tower, longing for her. Only this time, I could touch, hold, kiss.

There was a sudden shift in her body and she shook her head. Her eyes were still firmly shut, but her eyebrows furrowed, lips parting in distress. Her limbs began to flail, and I immediately moved to hug her.

"No... nonono..." she whimpered, fighting and pushing against me, but I held on. "Angel, it's me," I cooed. "It's just me, my darling. It's Draco."

Her tear-stained cheeks glistened in the darkness, but her slumbering mind heard me. The struggling ceased, and her breathing soon steadied again. 

I sighed, stroking her hair. She got like that sometimes. She never wanted to talk about it, but I knew. I hear her calling their names in her sleep sometimes, pleading with them. Yaxley, Bellatrix, Snape, and even mine.

Please don't hurt Draco, she had sobbed once. Take me instead. I'm a mudblood, I'm a nobody. Take me. Just don't hurt him! I remembered her hands moving to cover her breasts and in between her legs. I had to wrestle her arms away as she wailed and cried. I do not know what fantasy her broken mind had been concocting at that time, but it absolutely shattered my heart.

I had dreams of my own as well - horrific scenes of Angel dying right before my eyes. The most common one was Bellatrix slashing her into ribbons with the Sectumsempra curse. I knew the counter-curse in real life, but Dream Me never did.

Her blood-soaked jumper would squelch horribly in my arms as I picked up her limp body, begging her to tell it to me. She would cough up blood, her lips a pallid grey. And I had no choice but to watch the life ebb from her and the final embers in her eyes blow out.

My warped mind conjured the worst possible scenarios, until I could no longer distinguish nightmare and real life. It was why I had reacted that way at Christmas dinner. The thought of her being taken away from me again was so unbearable, I always wanted to jump to her rescue at the slightest possibility of a threat.

I placed protection charms around our house obsessively, and lost nights of sleep from being shaken awake from screaming - both hers and mine.

As for Angel, what happened at Malfoy Manor never left her. Sometimes when we would make love, her eyes would cloud over, and she would burst into tears and scramble away. She would then get dressed and huddle up in the other end of the bed, far away from me. It made me feel like a monster, when I knew I would never do anything to hurt her, ever.

She could not help it, but it frustrated me - sometimes to the point of anger. I would lie awake afterwards, furious at myself for letting her go through what she did.

Such were the demons we faced in the aftermath of the war. Viciously infiltrating our minds and twisting what we thought was reality. Day by day, night by night, we relived traumas we thought we had left behind.

Our post-war world seemed safe now. And in many ways, it was, thanks to people like Hermione and Harry, who were doing all they can to better it. But below this façade of repair, we were all twisted in one way or another. People like Hannah, Neville, and even Harry himself; Merlin knew what paranoias and fears still plagued them beneath their skin and inside their minds.

Angel and I have already lost a year together. Our healing had only just begun, and it took a lot of patience - sometimes too much. There were times we would be so overtaken by exhaustion that we lost our tempers, argued in raised our voices. I threw things and punched pillows. She would sit sullenly on the couch, or silently disappear into our room.

I would get aggravated and cold if she suddenly became averse to touch, when I all I wanted to do was hug her or take her arm. She would despair at my overprotectiveness and the aggressive shields I put up to her friends. 

But one thing always remained constant. We had each other. We would take turns comforting the other, stroking their heads, or making tea, or sometimes just holding each other in silence. Our love was a refuge, somewhere we could run to when it was unsafe.

I would protect her with my life, and I know she would do the same for me.

She already had.