My heart hurt so much.

I spent the next few days in a numb sort of state. Harry had buried Dobby on the beach where he had died, and I often found myself visiting the grave, crying uncontrollably despite not having known the house-elf that saved us.

I cried for so much. I cried for my mother. I cried for the pain and torment I had endured at the hands of my step father. I cried for all the death and destruction that my real father had caused.

But most of all, I cried for Draco and for the future we would never have together.

I didn't think the tears would ever stop.

"Harry has decided we're definitely going to hunt the Horcruxes," Hermione said as she joined me by the grave one warm evening.

My stomach clenched uncomfortably as the world tilted on its axis for a moment. The realisation that Harry and I had to both sacrifice ourselves made me feel sick to the very core.

"Okay," I shivered, not taking my eyes from Dobby's gravestone. "What do we do next?"

"He wants us to break into Gringotts," Hermione murmured, sitting down next to me. "He's certain the next Horcrux is in Bellatrix's vault."

"Great," I sighed, feeling exhausted by the thought already.

"We can do this, Astrid," she said, placing a gentle hand upon mine, "think about what we're doing this for. Think about Draco."

A tear rolled down my cheek as I looked at the words upon Dobby's grave.

Here lies Dobby, a Free Elf.

If Dobby could sacrifice himself for those he loved, so could I.

And then maybe I could finally be free, too.

...

I was still bitter with Harry for stealing Draco's wand.

"Look, Astrid, we are in the middle of a war!" Harry bellowed at me as I scoffed at his suggestion of Polyjuicing Hermione into Bellatrix for the break in.

"I know, Harry, I was made fully aware of that when I witnessed my father feed a woman to a bloody snake!" I snapped. "All I was going to do was suggest that I become Bellatrix seeing as I know her mannerisms a bit better!"

"Well, I suppose she is practically family," he retorted sneeringly.

"Bloody hell, you two," Ron breathed, "it's like you've both got monsters inside of you that keep rearing their ugly heads!"

Little did he know.

So, in the end, I was the one who became Bellatrix whilst Hermione hid under the Invisibility Cloak with Harry and Griphook.

It was a disaster really. But in the end we did manage to secure the Horcrux - a Hufflepuff cup.

Harry started clutching his scar and screaming dramatically after we climbed out of the lake that the dragon had dropped us in upon our escape.

"What is it?" I cried above the roaring wind.

"Your father!" He shouted back, clutching his scar. "He knows what we've done. He's gone on a killing spree in loverboy's mansion."

"What?!" I cried, feeling my heart constrict violently. "Draco - tell me, Harry - is Draco okay?"

"I'm sure he's fucking fine," Harry snarled. "Malfoy usually is."

I saw red.

And the next thing I know, I'm straddling Harry after throwing him violently to the ground.

"You fucking bastard!" I yelled spitting down at his face, "You have no idea about Draco, no clue about the shit he has had to deal with! And you went and stole his only means of defence, you arsehole!"

"Astrid!" I heard Hermione cry from behind me, but I ignored her, my anger at Harry overpowering me.

Harry cowered beneath me as I leant in close to his face, pinning his arms to the ground above his head.

"I even felt sorry for you once, when I first met you!" I snarled, "But now I completely understand why Draco stamped on your face!"

I felt arms go around my waist as Ron pulled me away from Harry.

"Bloody hell, Astrid!" He cried, as he dragged me a safe distance away from the Chosen One, "we know you love the Slytherin git, but there's no need to take it out on Harry!"

I slumped helplessly into Ron's hold as hot tears spilled down my cheeks. "Draco doesn't deserve the hate," I sobbed, "he doesn't deserve any of it."

"It's okay," Ron soothed, tightening his arms around my middle as he nuzzled his chin against the top of my head. "He'll be okay."

But I didn't know that. And thanks to my father making me a Horcrux, I probably never would.

...

Draco had been having a late night shower when it happened.

He didn't normally take showers so late, but he couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about Astrid. He yearned for her so much, desperate for her touch, desperate to be able to make love to her. He was being driven mad with longing.

So he decided to have a shower.

All he could think about, as the steam billowed around him and the hot spattering of water hit his skin, was making love to Astrid. He thought of all the showers they'd shared together, and as he started the slow rhythmic stroking, he imagined it was her hand wrapped around him, not his.

Just as he got to the point where his legs started to shake, his breathing had been reduced to short shallow pants, and as the tightening in his abdomen began to take over all control - the arm that he had been using to steady himself against the wall while the other one pumped vigorously, gave a violent jerk as the black ink etched upon it burned fiercely, making him cry out in pain instead of the pleasure that he had been chasing.

Gasping, he dropped his cock and clutched at the Dark Mark on his left arm instead.

Someone had called Voldemort. This could only mean one thing - they'd finally caught Potter.

Draco roared in frustration.

Bloody Potter couldn't even let him have a wank in peace.