Heartbreak
“Where is the antidote, Astoria?” Draco said, his voice dangerously low and soft. Astoria can only think of a few times when her betrothed used this voice on her. She tried to ignore him and continued on, as if she heard nothing.
“Astoria, I asked you a question.” he said again. His voice was calm, but it was enough to make her shiver in her shoes. It felt like the quiet before the storm and she was not willing to brave this.
“What are you talking about, darling?” she asked, trying to feign innocence. Astoria knows that he already knew what she did but at this point, this was all she could do. “What antidote?” She tried to make her voice as sweet as possible, hoping that it could fill the void that stood between the two of them.
“Are you saying you did not create one?” His voice was ice and every word felt like a dagger being plunged mercilessly into her heart. “Astoria, are you that selfish that you are willing to take away the one thing that makes me want to live?”
This was not right. This was not how it was supposed to be. She was a Greengrass. She was of noble birth, one of the most beautiful ladies of her age. Her manners were flawless, her education was topnotch, her poise was impeccable, her beauty was unmatched. She would have been the perfect match for him. Is that not why she was betrothed to him at birth? She was the one promised to him. Tears threatened to fall from her sapphire eyes but she tried her best not to show. She was not in the wrong here.
Steadying her voice but gripping the edge of her boudoir like it was the only lifeline she had left, Astoria turned and looked Draco directly in the eye. “I don’t know what you mean, dearest.” she said. She did her best to be firm. She cannot falter and she must not fail.
She could see the frustration build up in his handsome face, his beautifully chiselled face she had hoped she would one day see on her own child. Platinum strands of hair hung over his bloodshot eyes as he glared at her with restrained icy fury. She could hear him grit his teeth as he held back. There was nothing but emptiness for her behind his stormy grey eyes.
The first time she saw him was when her sister brought her to one of their gang get-togethers in the Greengrass summer house. She was only 10 years old but she knew she had already fallen in-love. To her, he was like a knight in shining armour, the prince coming to sweep her off her feet. He was the man she was destined to be with and she couldn’t be happier. Of course, he did not pay her much attention then but he was hers. He had been promised to her since the day she was born.
Putting on her best posture, she sat on her vanity’s stool, like the pureblood that she was. She held her head up high and kept her cool. That was all she could do right now lest the earth and sky fall upon her shattering heart. The grip she had on the edge of the table tightened as her fiance inched closer to her until he towered over her small frame.
“If Hermione dies, you will regret the day you were born.” he growled before turning his back to her and walking away.
That was the last straw. Of course she could never measure up to THE Hermione Granger. Bright, sweet, and brave Hermione Granger who always spoke to her in the kindest of ways, like an equal. But she was not bright enough. She was not sweet enough. She was not brave enough. Astoria cannot count how many times she looked at the mirror and cursed that she was not Hermione Granger; that instead of eyes of molten gold, she saw sapphires; that instead of untamed curls of topaz, she saw sleek ebony. She cannot count how many times she prayed to whatever deity that was listening that their roles be reversed, how she begged and pleaded. Why couldn’t it have been her?
Astoria had seen the way her betrothed looked at Hermione. How his silver eyes mellowed with warmth and affection, how the sun seemed to radiate in his face when he looked at her. She had seen the gentle caresses he makes when he holds her hand in the briefest of instances. She had seen how he unconsciously leans to her when they were together. She had seen the most beautiful, most loving smiles he gave her. It was all for her, for Hermione Granger.
“Why?” she asked quietly, as if in defeat. “Why her?”
He did not even bother to turn around. He answered as if it was the only truth he held in life. “Because I love her.”
In that moment, Astoria’s heart, already battered and bruised from being in an engagement of unrequited love, died. “Why couldn’t it be me?”
“Because you’ll never be her.”