A/N: Moments between Draco and Astoria, bouncing back and forth from their days at Hogwarts to their marriage. My HP trivia is a little rusty, so bear with me, hm? Reviews would be lovely, thanks! Edited 2/7/13

Winter, 1997

Astoria trailed behind Daphne and Millicent, her sister's robes dragging in the snow. Daphne had insisted Astoria wear something of hers, but Daphne refused to believe that her robes were a bit long on Astoria.

Hogsmeade was packed with seventh years on this Friday evening, and Astoria wished she'd brought Malcolm with her. As much as she liked her sister's friends, she had a feeling some of them didn't like her as much.

Some of them being Pansy.

"Astoria, stop lagging," Daphne called over her shoulder as they entered the Three Broomsticks.

Inside at a table in the far corner sat Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. Crabbe immediately caught Astoria's eye and waved.

Astoria ducked her head and followed her sister. Ever since the Yule ball, Crabbe had developed a bit of a crush on her, and she was embarrassed whenever he expressed these feelings in public.

Daphne, being as pushy as she was, forced Astoria to sit on the edge of the booth next to Crabbe.

"'ello, Astoria," Crabbe said with a toothy smile, scooting closer to her.

"Hello," She said quietly, already feeling a little uncomfortable.

After a few failed attempts to make conversation, Crabbe gave up and began talking to Blaise, who was seated across the table.

Astoria sat silently, listening to the buzzing conversation around her. Someone handed her a butterbeer, and she looked up, surprised to see Draco Malfoy. "For me?" She asked, glancing subtly at Pansy.

"No, I bought it for my ex-girlfriend," Draco said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Astoria would have thought him serious if it weren't for the sly smile on his lips. "It's for you," He said again, his smile turning into a smirk.

Astoria blushed and took the mug. "Thanks," She managed to say. She took a sip of the warm drink and sighed.

"Come on, move over," Draco said, giving her shoulder a nudge.

She scooted to her left, closer to Crabbe, so Draco could squeeze onto the edge of the bench. He lifted his arm and rested it on the top of the seat behind her, and Astoria told herself it was only so he could have more room.

The conversation at the table was revolving Quidditch, as usual. "I don't know about you, but Warrington has been completely worthless this year," Draco muttered, taking a big drink of Astoria's butterbeer.

Astoria frowned, not used to boys drinking from her cup, and she looked over at Daphne to see if her sister made anything of it.

Daphne was wearing a strange, unreadable expression, her eyes darting back and forth from Draco to Astoria, and Astoria felt her cheeks burn.

Blaise spoke up. "Well, Draco, you haven't exactly been showing up to practices lately, with your new hobby and all."

All conversation at the table ceased, as everyone heard Blaise's jab and gaped at him, open-mouthed, Draco included.

He quickly composed himself and sneered. "Funny, Blaise, that you're so quick to judge, seeing as you've never played a minute of Quidditch in your life."

Everyone remained silent, and Draco got up from his seat. "I'm leaving," He said sharply. He held out his hand to Astoria, who looked at him as if he was mad. "Well, you coming, Greengrass?"

Astoria glanced at Daphne, who was still wearing that unreadable expression, before she took Draco's outstretched hand and let him yank her to her feet. She followed him out of the pub and onto the street.

They walked in silence for a few moments, their intertwined hands swinging between them. After a few silent minutes, Astoria spoke. "Blaise is a bit thick sometimes; don't let him get to you."

Draco looked down at her with his sly smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," She said quietly. She remembered something he'd said in the pub, then. "When you said your ex-girlfriend, were you—"

"I broke up with Pansy weeks ago, Astoria."

"But Pansy didn't say anything—"

"Of course she didn't," Draco said, smirking. "She wouldn't want anyone to think she got the boot, would she?"

Astoria nodded. "Poor girl. She really fancied you, Draco. I hope you weren't too harsh."

"Are you sticking up for Pansy Parkinson?" Draco asked.

"She's not all bad, I'm sure."

Draco chuckled and nodded. "I suppose."

He looked off down the lane at a group of squealing fourth years exiting Honeydukes. When he looked back at her, his expression had turned serious, as it always did when he was thinking about something. "Astoria," He said quietly.

She liked the way he said her name. It rolled off his tongue in a deep baritone voice as smooth as butterbeer, and the way his lips tugged up at the corners gave her a fluttery feeling in her stomach. She knew she was mad for thinking such things because this was Draco Malfoy, sixth year Death Eater who despised just about everything.

Draco continued. "Do you remember your third year? When you snogged that bloke who was a year younger than you?"

Astoria couldn't have turned any redder had she tried. "Malcolm is my friend," She defended.

"Doesn't make a difference. You still snogged the git."

She scowled. How dare he insult her friends and mock her. "It was a silly bet, and as I said before, it's none of your concern!"

"Have you ever gotten a real kiss, Astoria?" Draco said, leaning close.

"It's none of your concern," She repeated, a little nastier than she meant it. She was cold and angry, and she just wanted to go back to the pub where Daphne was. She yanked her hand out of his and decided to do just that.

She was a fool to ever think that he was anything more than a heartless twat, but surprisingly, before she could get too far, Draco gently clasped her arm and tugged her backwards. He bent down, his face inches from hers, and said, "Yes, Greengrass, I think it is my concern."

Then he kissed her.