Astoria, now changed into her nightgown, crossed her legs with open ease. The slightly lifted hem revealed her fair, shapely calves.
Though two years younger than Pansy and the others, she possessed a tall, model-like figure that many women would envy. Those long legs, the clean curve of her arches—features that could easily drive foot enthusiasts wild.
Yet compared to the advantages of her appearance, what Draco admired most was her maturity and composure. If one had to put it plainly, Astoria Greengrass truly embodied all the qualities a noble should possess.
That may have been because she hadn't met Draco at a young age, and because the Greengrass family's upbringing was notably strict. From childhood, Astoria had been shaped by a classic aristocratic education. As a result, compared with Hermione and Pansy, she lacked that trace of innocent liveliness.
One only had to look at her sister's pureblood supremacist views and aristocratic airs to understand why...
But there was a deeper reason.
Whether by fortune or misfortune, the Blood Curse unique to the Greengrass family—practically an incurable terminal illness even in the wizarding world—had chosen this beautiful girl without mercy, a girl who should have had a boundless future ahead of her.
A life fated to be short gave rise to a soul that matured far too early.
'The Greengrass blood Curse...'
As Draco studied the blonde girl before him, there was more than admiration in his eyes. Hidden deep within was a faint, almost imperceptible regret. He knew the secret of the Greengrass family.
Or rather, it seemed they had deliberately allowed the Malfoy family to learn of it.
Draco believed they were seeking a potion from his godfather that could suppress the Blood Curse, which was why they had no choice but to be honest with Lucius—or strike a deal with him, using him as the bridge between the two families.
That also explained why Draco would occasionally see Snape summoning Astoria to his office...
In truth, after the Quidditch World Cup ended, Draco—driven by his relentless curiosity—had taken it upon himself to look into the Blood Curse afflicting Astoria.
The answers he found were bleak.
Potions could ease the symptoms when the Curse flared, but they could not save Astoria's life.
One day, this unsolvable Blood Curse would mercilessly take everything from the beautiful girl before him.
Fate, it seemed, had already been decided...
...
"..."
"..."
A strange silence settled between them.
How could the sensitive blonde girl fail to notice another's gaze? Especially when Astoria had long been subjected to countless looks just like it.
Sympathy. Pity. Even a greedy desire to unravel the mysteries of the blood Curse.
After all, while the Blood Curse brought with it the threat of death at any moment, it also bestowed unparalleled power.
That power was not something to be underestimated. In fact, it was precisely this death-bound strength that had allowed the Greengrass family to rise into prominence and secure their place among the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
The wizarding world had never lacked madmen who worshipped power.
And Astoria had grown up, and matured quickly, beneath such gazes.
The only difference was that Draco, standing before her now, was different.
There was no sympathy in his eyes. No pity. As for greed, the very idea was laughable.
"So... what do you mean?"
Perhaps it was exactly this difference that unsettled her. Astoria had always believed she could bear it calmly, yet now an inexplicable resentment stirred within her chest.
Her rational composure snapped without warning in front of him.
"Hah... don't look at me like that. It's not as if I'm about to die. Or is this how the Malfoy family treats its guests?"
"Pitiful? Yes! I don't even know how long I'll live. I really am worth pity!"
"Why me? A clever and powerful Mr. Malfoy like you must know the answer, right? Tell me! Why is it me?!"
She didn't give Draco a chance to respond. The blonde girl uncrossed her legs, clenched her fists, and shouted as if she were trying to defy fate itself.
As though she had forgotten why she had come here in the first place, she let her emotions spill out freely in front of someone else—for the first time.
Astoria herself didn't even know why she was lashing out at him. All she knew was that her emotions were spiraling out of control. Her hoarse voice, trembling with sobs, was almost impossible to associate with the Astoria renowned for her flawless aristocratic poise.
Her usually fair, smiling face was now tinged with a faint, almost unhealthy flush...
...
Why would Pansy, who seemed like a little princess, rely on Draco?
Why would Hermione, whose status and background differed by a gulf, draw close to Draco like a moth to a flame?
Why would those followers choose Draco? Was it really just for profit?
When she was alone, Astoria often found herself thinking about these questions.
Was it trust?
Her thoughts would always circle back to that night. The night she had been able to set aside her mask and laugh without restraint. It was brief, yet enough to stay with her for a lifetime.
Perhaps only in front of this person could she truly show her real self...
The thought suddenly resurfaced in Astoria's mind.
Facing the blonde girl who had lost control so abruptly, Draco did nothing more than remain quietly at her side, a perfect listener.
It was also then that he realized his earlier gaze had struck a nerve in this sensitive girl, one who carried far more pressure than most.
After she seemed to calm down, Draco didn't rush to comfort her. Instead, he silently conjured a tea set with magic...
"Looks like you've gotten it out of your system."
"..."
Watching the teacup drift toward her through the air, filled with Gurdyroot Infusion, Astoria was still breathing heavily. She froze for a moment and didn't reach out to take it right away.
Draco didn't seem bothered. He spoke gently.
"With me, you can take off your mask for a while."
At last, under the steady gaze of those calm gray eyes, Astoria reddened at the corners of her eyes. Pressing her lips together, she reached out and cradled the floating teacup in her hands.
She stared blankly at the strange green liquid inside the cup. Holding it with both hands, she gradually fell silent...
She took a sip.
Then her small face scrunched up at once.
Sure enough, it tasted just as strange as its owner.
So bitter that it even drew tears from her eyes...