Having Draco back terrified me.

It terrified me because I knew it would just destroy me to say goodbye to him again.

Saying goodnight to him at the end of every day was hard enough, and it didn't help that I could see - too - the reluctance in his eyes with every parting.

And then, out of the blue - towards the end of the holidays - he didn't show up for four consecutive days. Panic gripped me. I knew it was unhealthy for me to depend on him so much, but I couldn't help it.

Draco was the only reason I hadn't runaway from my father. Knowing I would see Draco again kept me where I was.

Besides - where would I even go? Draco didn't know it, but he was my home.

And as I said - that terrified me.

I had almost given up seeing him again when, on the last day of August, he showed up. Relief flooded me like I had never known before.

Except something was different about him.

Despite the heat, he kept his black jacket firmly on. He also couldn't meet my eye.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, desperate to know it wasn't about me.

"Yeah," he muttered dully, straightening the sleeve of his left arm as he sat down on the swing next to me.

"Where have you been?" I asked, inwardly cringing at how needy I sounded.

"Mother needed me to do something," he gritted stiffly, but said no more.

"Oh," I replied, sensing his despondency.

We sat in silence for a little while before I couldn't take it anymore.

"Draco, has something happened - at- at home?" I asked quietly, reaching out to touch his left arm.

"You tell me, Astrid," he spat, immediately snapping his arm away from me, his grey eyes flashing angrily into mine, "you tell me about stuff going on at home!"

I stood up at once, my heart hammering in my chest. I didn't like Draco being like this one bit. He was frightening me.

"W-what are you talking about?" I stammered, backing away slightly.

"Tell me," he snarled, standing up himself now and for some reason looking furious, "why is it you don't like going home? What is it about your father that makes you stay away?"

"S-stop it!" I gasped, feeling my chest heave with a sudden torrent of emotion. A roaring in my ears began to build up and black spots had started clouding my vision.

"What does he do to you, Astrid?" Draco went on, taking a step towards me, not dropping his menacing tone, "what does he do to make you this way?"

Panic had now taken full flight, I turned away from him and did the only thing I could think of. I ran.

I didn't stop running until I neared my home. As I hit my street, I leant against a wall to catch my breath, sank to the ground and covered my face with my hands. I realised my cheeks were soaking wet from crying.

I didn't know what to do. All I knew was that I definitely couldn't face going home, but I too couldn't face seeing Draco.

He wasn't the Draco I knew. In the space of a few days something had happened to him, but I had no idea what.

...

Draco felt shit.

He hadn't meant to round on Astrid like that. He hadn't meant to take out what had happened to him on her.

As he watched her run away into the distance, he swallowed. His left arm itched uncomfortably under his suit.

He didn't know what else to do, so he returned home. He thought about going after her, but he didn't trust he wouldn't continue to take his anger out on her, and she didn't need that.

She didn't need him.

Not now that he was a Death Eater.

...

I froze as my bedroom door creaked open.

No please, not tonight, I prayed. I knew I wouldn't have the strength to conjure up happy thoughts of Draco. Not after what happened earlier.

I immediately jumped out of bed and leapt over to my dressing table, my heart beating fearfully in my chest.

I quickly wrapped my old cardigan tightly around my pyjamas as my father fell through the door, blinking at me bleary eyed.

"Wh-rry ent in bed, pumpkin?" he slurred, staggering slowly towards me.

"I- I'm not tired," I stuttered, backing into my dresser.

The room swayed as the foul odour of stale beer hit me. It was a smell that would haunt me forever.

"Gerrin to bed, pumpkin," he grunted, coming closer.

"No," I tried to say with conviction but instead it came out as a pathetic squeak.

He stopped in his tracks, blinking down at me in confusion. "I said gerrin to bed."

"NO!" I shouted this time, as beads of sweat started forming across my brow. My whole body was trembling in terror as I braced for what was coming next.

He lunged at me with surprising force given his drunken stupor. His rough hands turned me around and slammed my head painfully down on the dresser. I kicked and struggled beneath him as he forcefully pinned me against the unit - but he was too strong, and I was too weak.

"You little bitch!" he spat above my ear, as his fingers dug painfully into my skull.

Tears fell down my face onto the contents of my dresser as my father started to tug at my clothes. Something was digging painfully into my cheek but I couldn't make out what it was.

Managing to wriggle my hand up, I pulled the object free from under me, and without taking any notice of what it was, I summoned all my strength and whacked it as hard as I could behind me.

There was a loud crack as it connected with my father's head.

All of a sudden, the weight which had been pinning me down lifted as my father fell sideways and dropped heavily onto the floor.

I stood up breathing hard as I looked down at the unconscious body of my father. My heart racing, I shakily lifted the object in my hand that I had used as a weapon. It was Draco's mirror. And the glass had smashed into pieces.

Horrified by what had just happened, I dropped the mirror on the floor and ran.

I ran out of the flat, into the street and didn't stop until I had reached the only place I could think of to go.

As I reached the sanctuary of the church, I was relieved to find it unlocked. I crept to the back, huddling up on the pew where Draco and I would often sit together.

I had no idea what I was going to do. I was so frightened, so fearful of what lay ahead. I couldn't even bring myself to think about what lay on my bedroom floor right now.

Shivering, I wrapped my cardigan tightly around me. Something sharp pierced my hand making me gasp. I looked down to see a small shard of the mirror embedded in my cardigan. Pulling it out I looked at it, and a fresh wave of tears fell from my eyes.

Draco, I thought, I need you.

...

Draco couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about Astrid.

He didn't want to care about her. She was a God damned Muggle for Merlin's sake! What had he been thinking, getting involved?

His position in the wizarding world now made it even more dangerous for him to be associated with her. And he had a job to do - a very important task that had been entrusted upon him. He couldn't afford any distractions.

But as he tried to erase his mind of her, he found he couldn't.

Sighing, he got out of bed and went to his trunk which was all packed ready for Hogwarts. He felt sick about his return the next day; sick about how he had left things with Astrid. Sick about the impossible task that lay ahead of him.

Slowly, he pulled out Salazar Slytherin's mirror. And as he looked into it, his heart nearly stopped. For he was not looking back at his own pale grey eyes - but blue frightened ones.

Astrid's.

She needed him. And, he thought - hastily pulling on his clothes - come hell or high water, he was going to find her.

...

😘