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Title: Chapter 6: In Which Draco Realises He Needs To Talk To His Mother
Disclaimer: J.K Rowling and associates are the legal owners of these characters and settings. I am writing for pleasure not profit
Warnings: None for this chapter
Rating: PG - again for this chapter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Wordcount: 847
Summary: Harry and Draco are colleagues, who become friends who become... A simple love story about two not so simple boys.
Author's Notes: This is my first Drarry fic, and also my first Drarry series... obviously! I hope I'm doing it right. This fic is also available on tumblr and AO3 where you can find more of the story that I will be posting here. Enjoy!

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five

Draco clutches at the serviette in his lap and tries to resist the urge to run his hand through his hair. He’s slicked it back, because his mother thinks it looks better that way, and because he is really on this ridiculous date for her. He feels the frown tug at the corner of his forehead, and he takes a deep breath, settling his face into one of placid indifference.

“Mother says you’re working?” Astoria Greengrass smiles at him from across the table and he looks at her. Her dark hair falls over her shoulders and she peers up at him demurely. His mother would approve of that. She likes demure women. Her eyes are large and she flutters her eyelashes as she looks at him.

Objectively he can see that she’s very pretty.


“Yes, as an Auror,” Draco smiles and Astoria smiles back, cutting her food into small pieces, her fingers long and delicate. The quiet scrape of metal on fine china fills the large restaurant and Draco picks up his wine, taking a sip. It’s good wine, round and warming. And not at all what he wants. His mind slips to a slightly warming pint of butterbeer and a raucous table. Draco pushes the thought away.

“Do you see yourself working at the Ministry for long?” Astoria asks before taking a small mouth-sized bite and chewing carefully. Draco feels his back stiffen. He’s well-rehearsed in this conversation, having had it on more than one occasion with his mother and father. He wasn’t expecting to talk about it tonight.

“For the foreseeable future,” he drawls, smiling politely. He picks up his cutlery and cuts a bite of food, not really tasting it, but knowing that it tastes good. At these prices it should taste like fucking nectar and ambrosia. Astoria nods slightly, and Draco watches her. She is enchanting, beautiful even. He can see why his mother wants her as her daughter-in-law.

“Your mother suggested that perhaps it wouldn’t be… permanent,” her voice is smooth and light and Draco knows from years of training that she’s pushing for something. He feels his hand twitch for his wand and he has to remind himself that he’s in control. That nothing bad is going to happen. His robes feel too tight around his neck and he tilts his head slightly.

“Oh?” Draco raises one eyebrow, his heart pounding in his chest, anger bubbling in his stomach. His mother. He grips his cutlery harder, his knuckles going white and he tries to resist the urge to run his hand through his hair. Again.

“Perhaps…” Astoria leans back and fixes him with a strong gaze and Draco stills. He’s reminded of Daphne for a moment, sitting in the common room, watching with disdain. “Perhaps if you had an heir.”

“Astoria,” Draco takes a deep breath, trying to steel himself. He puts his cutlery down, and looks Astoria in the eye, “I enjoy my job. I worked hard for my job. I do not plan to leave it any time soon.”

“Not even after we’re…” Astoria pauses and Draco closes his eyes. Right. He really needs to talk to his mother. He runs his hand through his hair, feeling the crispness of the gel in his fingers, crunching it slightly. He knows it’ll be a mess. He doesn’t care. It’s a chilling thought, because he always cares, but right now there are more… pressing issues to deal with.

“Astoria, I don’t know what my mother has told you…”

“I just feel like we shouldn’t skirt around the issue any more…”

“But it isn’t going to happen.” Draco sounds stern. He knows he’s using the voice that he uses in interrogations. He knows he’s being… harsh. Astoria frowns, creasing her perfect features and Draco sits back, smoothing his hair back down, regaining his Malfoy composure. He thinks he’s probably been spending too much time with Gryffindors. Astoria relaxes her face, her eyes warm.

“Draco, darling,” Astoria smiles, leaning across the table and resting her hand on his arm, “I don’t think you can really say that. We all know your family isn’t in a position to turn down a match like this. Our marriage is the only thing that will save the Malfoy reputation in respectable circles.” She nods and removes her hand, placing her cutlery together and dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her serviette. Draco clenches his fist in his lap and watches as she rises, smiling at the waiter as she weaves her way through the restaurant, people looking at her in her elegantly figure hugging robes. The waiter leaves the check on the table and Draco throws some galleons down, not bothering to look at he’s much he’s tipped. It’ll be enough.

Astoria comes back and he holds his arm for her. They walk through the crowd and Draco is aware that eyes are on him, on them, speculating. Astoria gives his arm a squeeze and he glances at her, watching as she looks giddy with it.

He really needs to talk to his mother.


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