CUT TO RIBBONS

Pairing: Draco/Astoria

Prompt: little black sheep

Rating: K+

Summary: Draco wants to be left alone, Astoria won’t let him be.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Set during HBP. Similarities between my Astoria and blackalnair’s are the result of an odd case of convergent evolution. If I’ve goofed on any of the details surrounding Draco’s 6th year, I blame it entirely on the fact that I haven’t read HBP in a while. Written for a rarepairs prompt table on LJ.

Additional Note: I normally wouldn't upload something this short to this site - I'd keep it for my LJ. Astoria is so new, and fresh, and has so much potential though that I feel the need to spread the love.

As he lay slumped elegantly on a small mountain of plump white pillows, Draco Malfoy seethed with anger. The fine line of his jaw was sharp with tension, and his eyes were possessed of an almost unnatural brightness as he stared at an invisible point fixed somewhere on the opposite wall of the mercifully silent infirmary. The sheer force of his gaze would have scared away even the sickliest of occupants had Madam Pomfrey not already shooed the usual riffraff away. At present, any walk-in patients were being dealt with in the matron’s office – well away from the Draco and the chance for gossip that a glimpse of him would provide.

The thought made him bristle. Each shuddering breath he drew in strained the shiny new flesh knitting together the wounds on his chest and all the rest of the school wanted to do was spread rumours about him.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and let his head loll to one side. It would be dinner soon, and then Pansy would appear with fresh tittle-tattle and half of the rest of Slytherin house at her back. Maybe, if he was lucky, Madam Pomfrey would send them away, though he doubted that she would. She might dismiss some of them, but the woman seemed to take a perverse pleasure from exposing him to so-called healthy bouts of Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise.

Well, maybe Blaise wasn’t so bad, but the rest of them… Didn’t they realise that he just wanted to be left alone?

“You know, the way that people are talking about it, you’d think you’d been cut to ribbons.”

Draco jumped and whipped his head around so fast that it hurt. Blood rushed to his brain, clouding his vision momentarily, and it was only when it had cleared again that he recognised the speaker. He frowned at the sight of the slender fourth year Ravenclaw who was stood in front the cloth screens that were intended to shield him from the rest of the room.

Astoria was the Greengrass family’s dirty little secret: an imperfect, though loved, daughter of their perfect bloodline. For as long as Draco had known her, she had walked with aid of a walking stick and a magical leg brace. The latter had been charmed to be invisible, but it still stiffened her movements enough to broadcast that there was something amiss.

“It’s not even that bad,” she added, apparently undaunted by his shock. “Kind of makes you look a bit dangerous – a bit rakish, in fact. Or it will do, anyway.” She paused, tilting her head to one side. The movement caused a heavy wave of hair to slip from behind her ear, adding to her quizzical look expression. “Did Harry cut out your tongue as well?”

Draco slammed his mouth shut with an audible click of his teeth. He had been gawping at her, he realised - staring at her as if he had never seen her before. He supposed he hadn’t, really, because the girl standing in front of him now was not the shy, quiet creature that he remembered. On the handful of occasions that they had actually spoken to each other, it had usually been because Daphne was present and it was expected.

Scowling at her, he said, “I’m sorry that I don’t find the prospect of being scarred for life very amusing.”

“No, I suppose that wouldn’t be much fun.” It was said kindly, but with a wry smile.

Madam Pomfrey’s office opened abruptly, admitting the harried looking nurse to the infirmary and startling the two teenagers. Poppy hesitated on seeing Astoria stood by the end of Draco’s bed, obviously surprised.

“Astoria!” she exclaimed cheerily. “You’re early, dear. Our appointment wasn’t supposed to be for another twenty minutes yet.”

The Ravenclaw turned to smile at her. “I know, Madam Pomfrey. I finished my dinner early so I thought I would come up.”

“Very well, come through when you’re ready.”

As Madam Pomfrey disappeared back into her office, Astoria turned back to him. “How long is she keeping you here?”

Draco shrugged, and then instantly wished that he hadn’t bothered as the movement tugged at the wounds on his chest. He must have winced because Astoria offered him a sympathetic look.

“I don’t know,” he said, feeling foolish.

She gave a small nod of her head, as if coming to some decision. “I might see you tomorrow night then,” she said.

Draco opened his mouth to tell her not to bother and then stopped himself as he realised that she probably had an appointment with the nurse anyway. Besides, for some reason, the prospect of talking to her again after yet more of Pansy’s fawning was oddly appealing.

END