astoriias

[astoriias]

Send me a '✉' for five times my muse didn't text yours, and one time they did

[astoriias]

who: astoria + cassius where: ministry of magic, wizengamot member offices when: (flashback) tuesday, august 3rd, 2027. 10am.

astoria’s office without it’s usual accoutrements felt foreign and almost cold. gone were the ivy plants that floated in serene stasis and wound their vines around the bookshelf in the corner. her tomes on british magical law and her favored texts on charms and transfiguration were packed away and shrunk down for their trip down the hall to her new work space. on her desk lay an open box that she was, at present, filling with the pieces she didn’t wish to lose or break in the shuffle: a glass case that held a shimmering head girl badge, her certificate of completion of her law degree, and portraits of friends and family. daphne’s brilliant smile shone from a handful of frames, as did her mother and father’s imposing figures. emory davis and gretchen corner waved at her from their frame, hands linked and eyes alight. half a dozen or so of these photos held her most treasured memories — her and draco moments after exchanging their wedding vows, a newborn scorpius swaddled and cooing in her arms, her and narcissa enjoying a drink together on christmas. in two weeks time all of these things would be rearranged in her new workspace befitting of the chief warlock of the wizengamot — astoria couldn’t help but smile to herself at the thought — and there was much to do in the interim.

the clock on her wall ticked away to ten o’clock, and she looked up to find — “cassius.” right on time. a wave of her want sent all the items off of her desk and gently settling in the corner, save for a notepad and a gold pen.

“please forgive the mess,” she added as she gestured for the man to sit across from her. “so. i wanted to have you come by before this transition takes up any more of my time. i thought it was time to discuss your next steps with the ministry, if that’s something you want.”

[astoriias]

send a ‘👄 + character name’ and my muse will talk about that character

[astoriias]

draco:

     very rarely did draco wish he had gone into a different line of work, but in the past few weeks the department of mysteries has been on high alert in an attempt to keep both their research and prophesies safe from the now supposedly returned death eaters. he had considered retiring and becoming the trophy husband he always said he was meant to be. it wasn’t uncommon for the man to come home from work stressed out, but this day had been eerily calm for the unspeakable. his one solace had always been his family. returning home to astoria everyday was nothing less that the highlight of his days.

     seeing his wife on the balcony draco was awestruck. he didn’t know how he got so lucky to marry such an amazing woman. even twenty-five years since they got married, draco still found such comfort just in his wife’s presence. draco felt like a mere mortal in the presence of a goddess when he was with astoria. a smile crept across his face as he stepped out into the cool night air. he leaned into the kiss as astoria pulled him in. he couldn’t think of a better way to be greeted.

    “i heard about your accident, are you feeling alright, dear?” draco knew better than to worry too much about astoria. she knew how to take care of herself. “if i could talk about my work day it would bore you.” part of being an unspeakable meant that draco couldn’t vent about his work day to his wife.

“i’m quite fine,” astoria reassured her husband. “i had to ask some poor passerby to help me patch things up, but look—!” she brandished her left hand with the proud spirit of a child showing off their messy scrawlings. “—no scars.” at times, astoria felt a creeping sense of paranoia that her illness took center stage in her life and relationships. draco, however, could toe the line between careful concern and laissez-faire better than anyone she knew. he trusted her to tell him when her symptoms were cause for concern, unlike her parents, or the few coworkers who knew the details of her condition. 

she left her other hand at the back of draco’s head, carding her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, gently, gently, gently. hades, her scottish terrier, had followed him outside, and the dog affectionately bounded up onto the chaise. “i doubt that,” she teased as her attention fell to the dog in her lap. “i find you very thrilling.” 

she pat the space beside her in an invitation to sit with her and hades...before an issue that had poked around the back of her mind came to the surface. “have you spoken with pippa, lately? daphne hasn’t returned any of my letters in almost a month. it’s not like her, and i wonder if pippa knows if something is amiss.” 

[astoriias]

🖋 Family

the confession comes out all at once: “we wanted more children.” she looks to the side, a seeing thousand imagined afternoons that died long ago. “scorpius is my whole heart, of course, but draco and i knew what it was like to grow up lonely, and that wasn’t what we wanted for him.” 

she grimaces, thinking of the circumstances surrounding her only child’s birth. “it just wasn’t possible. but at the end of the day, really, my boys are all i need.” 

[astoriias]

🖋 sister

“we used to be close,” astoria says in a voice that sounds a few steps from crying. “but i’m afraid we haven’t spoken more than a handful of words outside of family gatherings in years. i’d attribute it to business, raising children...but something tells me i’ve done something wrong.”

[astoriias]

Send 🖋 and a word and I’ll tell you some headcanons relating to it!

[astoriias]

💼

💼 for a work headcanon

astoria loved bringing scorpius to work with her when he was young. her own parents balked at the idea — she and daphne were left under the constant supervision of nannies and governesses growing up, and trips to work with daddy were out of the question. astoria spent early childhood relegated to quiet corners, kid’s tables, and the old adage that she was to be seen but not heard. 

she wanted to foster her son’s curiosity while he still had it, so astoria would take little scorpius on tours of the courtooms, whispered in his ear about all the things she and the other grown-ups did all day, answered his babbling queries with enthusiasm. she’d let him sit at her desk, scribbling pictures with her quills. “you can be whatever you want to be, my love,” she’d say. “you can do anything.”

[astoriias]

♬ luna

hand in my pocket by alanis morisette 

what it all comes down to is that i haven't got it all figured out just yet 'cause i've got one hand in my pocket and the other one is giving a peace sign 

[astoriias]

♬ (for cassius)

deep green by marika hackman

just because I love your skin doesn't mean I'll jump in the water's clean and warm and green i'm not allowed to swim i'm scared of getting in

[astoriias]

* talk about your muse!

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[astoriias]

send me ♬ for a song that reminds my muse of yours.

[astoriias]

jordanweasley​:

where – inaugural ball who – @astoriias​ 

Felix has never felt any shame in regards to his tears –– not as a child, when there was plenty of room for his emotion, nor as a teenager and especially not now, as a young adult. It allows him to breathe, to process, to feel. But tonight, tonight he’s not particularly happy about the tears burning in his eyes. They’ve been threatening to fall all evening: when Hermione was speaking, when he saw aunt Ginny with Harry, when he saw Kingsley’s statue. It’s as he’s staring at the last-mentioned, that his eyes start to burn especially hard. For a moment, he lets the tears tremble on the edges of his eyes, before moving through the crowds, in search for either some fresh air, a bathroom, or a friendly face. 

Instead, he finds his shoulder slamming into that of Astoria Malfoy and – rather awkwardly – responds to his own clumsiness with a, “Shit. Shit,” as the contents of his glass slosh over her side. He glances at her, apologetic, then wipes at his eyes, sniffs, and lets out a sad chuckle. There’s saltiness on his lips. “Sorry, Mrs Malfoy. I should really look where I’m going.” He wants to go, in all truth. “You’re lucky I’m not fond of red wine.” That doesn’t help. Felix curses himself in his head, and pats his dress robes pockets. “I … have a handkerchief, somewhere.”

She feels the uncomfortable slosh of liquid on her arm and torso before she registers the hit; it causes her to stumble, pulls her from her conversation with the Turkish Ambassador to Wizarding Britain, makes the grouping of wix around them gasp or hide laughter in golden flutes of bubbling champagne. Astoria whirls to find a crying young man as the culprit, and any barb or exclamation she was prepared to give dies before it reaches her mouth. They’ve only a few seconds before the shock wears off and the moment turns irreparably awkward, so Astoria nods at him, following his lead: “I’d hate to be unlucky in this moment,” she announces to those nearby, dry affectation leaking into her tone. It’s not her best line, but it’s enough to cut the tension and stop people from staring. 

Normally, she’d fix herself up and allow this young man to slink off wherever he intended, but she’s a high-ranking Ministry official at a Ministry event, and her sense of duty wins out. Astoria pulls the hands that are searching his pockets away from his torso and loops her right arm through his left, guiding him out of the grand arches of the ballroom and into the vast entry hall beyond. “I don’t trust you to keep sprinting through the crowd like that without causing a scene,” she explains under her breath. “And I happen to like Minister Granger enough to ensure that does not happen.” 

[astoriias]

wholehevrted​:

Lysander is fairly certain the only reason they reacted as quickly as they did was years of experience getting into sticky situations that led to the more than occasional injury. They didn’t stop to think as they reached into the bag, snagging the vial and uncorking it before handing it over to the woman in front of them before they even thought to speak.

They were thankful they had this occur on their way to lunch, rather than on the way back, their stomach turning at the sight of the blood in front of them. Lysander watched with concern as she took the vial, finally managing to find their voice when she did. “You alright, Madam Malfoy?” they asked, tone polite. “Is there anything else I can help you with? Someone I can grab for you?”

Even with the slight urgency of her bleeding hand making Astoria’s heart race, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the title madam. “Oh, no, that would be my mother-in-law,” she joked, thinking of Narcissa’s commanding posture and calculated air. Astoria still sometimes felt like a timid girl of nineteen whenever they shared a meal or went together on an outing — there was just something so sharp and clever about the elder woman that was inimitable. 

The witch plucked the vial from Lysander’s outstretched hand and made quick work of pouring the silvery powder on the wound. The skin knit back together in the time it took for Astoria to shake her wand loose from its holster in her sleeve, whereupon she cast a swift ‘terego!’, siphoning the mess away. “Yes, I’m quite fine. I’m well past the point where I would faint, but even if I had, I don’t think one could find my husband in the Department of Mysteries. That place is a labyrinth.” 

[astoriias]

ENTER ASTORIA 

i. nobody - mitski ii. instrumental - dodie iii. no room for doubt - lianne la havas (feat. willy mason) iv. past life - maggie rogers v. some unholy war - amy winehouse vi. nothing arrived - the villagers vii. une minute - pomme viii. (they long to be) close to you - the carpenters ix. from the morning - nick drake x. april come she will - simon & garfunkel xi. always this way - laura marling xii. saro - the westerlies xiii. these days - nico xiv. where is my mind (pixies cover) - maxence cyrin

[LISTEN]

[astoriias]

where: malfoy manor, draco & astoria’s bedroom balcony who: astoria & draco

Her little scrape that morning — and the drama that ensued — had tired out Astoria considerably enough that she’d bid her assistant goodbye after lunch, promising to answer any major work correspondance through owl for the rest of the day. Now early evening, she nursed a Gillywater and a slow-blooming headache on the balcony accessible from hers and Draco’s rooms, eyes trained on the vegetation in the small garden below — planted upon her request after their marriage. In the twenty-five years since their wedding, the topiary hadn’t changed much; a few exchanges of seasonal plants here and there, most of it non-magical (Astoria kept a small greenhouse for the magical ones). The layout remained the same, the sleek marble fountains shone as brightly in the late-summer sun as they ever did. In times as tumultuous as these, Astoria enjoyed the things in her life that remained constant. 

Speaking of. Astoria heard her husband’s footsteps behind her and turned to grin up at him from her chair. Despite his name, she’d never quite thought “dragon” when she looked at him, though she couldn’t deny the fact that there was always something astral about his countenance, something divine in the way he held himself. Not godlike, not awe-inspiring, but beautiful in a way she had no words for. There was something so particular about her fondness for him. How fervent. How quiet. How gentle. 

“Hi.” She pulled Draco down by the collar for a kiss. 

“Was your day as eventful as mine?” 

[astoriias]

where:  ministry of magic, main entrance atrium who: astoria + CLOSED! PLEASE NO MORE REPLIES LOL

“In my bag, you’ll a green vial. Front pocket. Quickly, please.” Astoria’s smile was demure and her voice light and casual despite the blood coursing from her left forearm. Her right hand was clasped tightly over the small wound (merely scraped on a rough brick upon exiting the Floo into the Ministry’s main entrance no less than thirty seconds ago, but bleeding as if she’d been slashed by a hippogriff) to prevent the blood from streaming down onto the sleeves of her fine, robes or onto the floor. The bag in question hovered in stasis a few inches off the black tile (charmed, in order to keep the leather from gettin dirty or scuffing). 

She was accustomed to these little accidents by now — even better at avoiding them altogether at her age — but there were days when her luck ran out. Thank Merlin for her propensity to carry medical supplies; this would be a quick fix. Collapse on the ground from a minor scrape? Astoria snorted. Perish the thought.