valentine_veela (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
valentine_veela) wrote2010-02-18 01:28 am
valentine_veela) wrote2010-02-18 01:28 am
Eternal Spring - Draco/Luna, PG13
Title: Eternal Spring
Author:crazyparakiss
Pairing: Luna/Draco
Prompt #: #110
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,700
Summary: Their winters were endless until they found each other.
Warning(s): (highlight to read)* Almost R but not quite! Flangst, um Het? Also I kinda suck at the fluff so please don’t kill me.*
Beta: E, a personal acquaintance.
Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
Eternal Spring
She thought it was always weird that they had been so good to her. There was no such thing as friends, that much was obvious now. Why had she been foolish enough to believe that people could like a girl with her odd habits? Her ‘Loony’ nature?
“How could I have been so stupid?” She wonders aloud as she enters a hidden alcove in the vacant courtyard. She sits on the cold stone bench and watches the melancholy decent of large snow flakes. Winter, it’s a season she has never enjoyed. At least not since her mother passed away has she felt anything more than sorrow when watching the world die. It’s not fair, she thinks, Demeter’s daughter Persephone will return in a few months time and the world will thrive once more. Yet Mummy is never coming home. I will never have her again. My winter will never end. She kicks up the settled snow on the ground in front of her covered bench, and watches as it catches the wind, swirling about before falling elsewhere. Wondering again about how she could have been so naive, she thinks about the conversation she over heard in the library.
Down the isle on potions texts Luna watches as Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron walk past with their school bags heavy with homework. A smile steals over her face and she decides that once she’s located her book she will join them at their table. Yet as she reaches up to take her tomb by its spine she falters, as her name and not so quiet laughter reaches her ears.
“Of course it was awful, did you see she was wearing the radish earrings again? I don’t know why she thinks they go well with her uniform; honestly they don’t go with anything.”Hermione’s prim condescending voice causes Ginny to give off a bell like laugh.
“Oh I know! But I don’t want to say anything about it because she is Luna and I would feel bad about making her feel insecure.” Ginny’s voice taking on her gossip tone.
Luna peers through the bookshelf; making sure not to be spotted and watches as Ron grunts, scratching behind his ear with his dry quill, saying, “As if she would, that girl isn’t normal enough to get her feelings hurt.”
Harry sits quietly for a long moment after that, looking rather torn. He too fiddles with his quill, passing it over and under his knuckles absentmindedly. Luna hopes he will defend her, yet he doesn’t and for that she is severely disappointed. She believed, at one time, that Harry understood. For isn’t he a freak as well? Yet there he is allowing her to be belittled by her “friends,” if anything, he is worse for it.
Ginny is the one who speaks next, “I think she may be getting worse. She told me this barmy story the other day.”
Hermione looks at her, giving her undivided attention, unlike when she listens to Luna. “Well what did she say?”
Ginny chews her mouth for a moment, looking a little hesitant, before she responds, “Something about how since she had her birthday last month she has started changing.”
Ron snickers as he starts flipping through pages of his DADA textbook. “I tell you what’s changing, that girl is losing touch with reality.”
“Well we already knew that Ronald.” Hermione scolds scathingly before nodding at Ginny, “Anyways you were saying?”
“Apparently she believes it is because she is part Veela.”
Harry’s eyes snap up from his doodling on Ron’s worn book, “What?”
Ron is turning purple from trying to suppress the boisterous laughter caught in his throat. Hermione just looks too shocked for words, which is entirely unlike her.
“Apparently her mother was a Veela and she has come into her inheritance.” Ginny folds her arms on the table; leaning forward she dramatically whispers, “Whoever kisses her first will be her husband.”
“Um I am pretty certain that Bill was not Fleur’s first kiss.” Ron says with a sceptical look.
“Well when I asked her that she said Fleur had obviously given her first kiss away before her inheritance came. So she was one of the many who have to take it to the next step, meaning she lost her virginity to Bill. Which came after inheritance hit so she bonded with him, then.”
Hermione looks disgusted, “Really, this is the last straw.” She imitates a kind yet dismissive voice, “Yes Luna radish earrings are fab. Of course Nargles exist Luna. Sure there are fairies behind the owlry. Of course your mother was a Veela, and since you’ve come into your inheritance you will marry the first person you kiss.” With a huff she crosses her arms and in a tired voice she says, “I will not encourage these delusions anymore!”
To Luna it hurts to hear and so she silently retreats away from the bookshelf and goes round the back of a few more to avoid their table. Once she is far enough away she exits the library.
That’s how she winds up here, alone in the cold. From her right she hears the sound of crunching snow, and so she turns to see another wayward being looking lonely and confused. Of course she is familiar with him, everyone knows that crown of silvery blond hair; he is the infamous Draco Malfoy. Quietly she studies him, noting his movements. Something doesn’t seem right with him; his head is bent, and he is doing nothing about the fat flakes of snow clinging to his hair, nor is he wearing anything more than his casual wear. No coat? She wonders what caused him to come out here in such a manner. Perhaps he is lonely too... As she ponders that she slowly begins to feel sorry for him.
“How lonely it must be to be Draco Malfoy.” She says softly, yet he hears it.
Pale grey eyes snap up and at first there is a small second of shock before Draco covers it with his indifferent mask. Luna knows all about those...
“How tragic it must be to be Loony Luna Lovegood.” He replies with a shrug. The words sting, and she pretends that hearing it from a stranger is better than hearing it from her friends. However, for some reason it hurts more. Perhaps because it is obvious to all that I am delusional and not a real girl, with real feelings.
“Yes it is tragic.” She whispers, but again he hears. Something in his glassy glance cracks, and he smiles, a sad world weary curve of pale pink lips.
“Yes, Loony, it is lonely.” Draco’s gaze penetrates to the core of her soul, and she feels as if she hasn’t felt this understood in a long while. It is enough, and for once the word Loony doesn’t cut so deep. Standing she nods at him, finally aware of the chill in her bones she moves in the direction of the castle.
Pausing she smiles lightly, “One day Persephone will come and melt the snow around our hearts.”
With an understanding nod he says, “For you maybe. The gods won’t forgive me.”
“Then I shall pray for you.” With that she walks away.
Walking the many busy corridors she notices that only the seventh years are scarce. Many, if not all of them were not her friends, but that doesn’t lessen the pain of the truth. She isn’t surprised by their low numbers, after all most who fought died or were severely injured, and those that sympathised with the Death Eaters would not be welcome. Their numbers is what caused McGonagall to mesh the entire group of seventh/eighth years together. So now she shares classes with Harry and the others. In the beginning she was quite happy about that, having no friends in her classes the previous years, but now she doesn’t know how she will stomach sitting with them. Pretending she didn’t hear is harder to do now that she has been betrayed by those she believed in the most.
Clutching her bag closer to her breast she enters the dungeon classroom. Foul perfumes from the bubbling cauldron at the head of the classroom hang thickly in the air, and Luna tries hard to suppress a gag. As usual she is the last one in and her seat selection is very minimal. She chooses to take the rickety seat at the back, and acts as if she doesn’t see Ginny smiling, trying to wave her over to her table. Luna is saved the trouble of avoiding eye contact when Professor Slughorn calls for attention. Ginny seems disappointed as she turns back around to face the instructor, but Luna doesn’t really care. She idly draws little fairies across her note parchment before giving a subtle wave of her wand and bringing them to life. With a lazy grin she watches as they dance across the paper, making ripples in the inky lake she gave them to play in. Luna comes quickly from her daydreaming stare when a rather loud explosion happens. Wide blue eyes take in the scene as it unfolds.
Slughorn is at Malfoy’s side instantly glaring darkly at the large foamy purple mess that covers his classroom with its terrible smell. He yells, “What were you thinking Malfoy!? You cannot add the pickled newt liver! This is elementary knowledge!” The professor doesn’t notice the way Ron and Harry grin at one another, or the way they exchange a not so subtle high five. Luna cannot see Draco’s face but the rigid line of his back makes her heart clench in pity.
“I am sorry Professor; I must have grabbed the wrong ingredient on mistake.” His voice is void of emotion as he begins clearing the mess away with his wand.
“Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
After that class is relatively boring and Luna tunes the surrounding noises out as she waits for the period to end.
In the courtyard, during lunch she sits on the same bench looking at the settled blinding white frozen ground. Once more she hears feet crunching the ground as a body approaches, and a subtle glance reveals that it is Draco. He stands with one hand in his robe pocket and the other holds a cigarette up to his chapped lips.
“That isn’t good for you, you know?” She says calmly, in the same soft voice she used the last time.
Without looking at her he replies, “I wouldn’t do it if it was.” Taking another hit he glances over his shoulder at her and exhales, the smoke coils around his face like a protective aura. In a way Luna finds it very endearing. “So what’s it to you if I do it or not Loony?” Again that hurtful nickname falling from his lips does not affect her. In a way she enjoys the way he says it. Honestly without a care that she hears it, unlike the way other people speak behind her back and pretend to be sorry when she over hears.
“I don’t really care, either way; I just wanted to tell you that it isn’t healthy.” Luna cocks her head sideways, her hair a long cascade of soft blonde curls over her robed shoulder. He pauses a moment, the fag halfway to his lips, an unreadable emotion momentarily crossing his face. Similar to their last meeting, it is gone seconds later.
He turns and walks over to the bench, “Why do you even talk to me? I know you are a friend of Saint Potter’s so why aren’t you bothering him?”
Head still cocked to the right she stares up at him with wide glazed eyes and smiles sadly, thinking about how a week ago she would have asked herself the same thing. Instead of saying that she asks, “Do you think I’m a bother?”
Draco looks startled, and he sits next to her without answering. Looking at his nearly finished cigarette he sighs, tossing it onto the snow covered ground. She watches as the cherry dies, soaked in a matter of seconds and looking less appetizing than it had between Draco’s lips. For a long while they sit there, together, Draco looking at the ground before him with his large hands hanging limply between his knees. Luna with her feet tucked beneath her bum, curiously studying the side of his face, noting the interesting imperfections. She is so entranced by a small scar where his cheek meets the left side of his nose that she almost misses his quiet omission, “No, I don’t think you’re a bother.” He leans back against the stone wall behind their seat and studies her smiling face before continuing, “In fact, when we talked last you gave me a little something to look forward to.” He grimaces, as if admitting this leaves a sour taste in his mouth, “I have become so used to being invisible or yelled at that you’re loneliness grabbed a hold of me, and made me realise that I am not the only one suffering.” His smile is self-depreciating, “In a way it was almost as if I had found a friend in all of this.”
With unblinking eyes she stares at him for a long while, silent and confused as well as happy, but he mistakes her silence for rejection. Standing swiftly he says, “Never mind, forget I said that.”
After he starts walking away she halts him with her imploring, “Will you really be my friend?”
Turning back to face her she marvels at the way his black cloak whips about him, a stark contrast to him and the world surrounding them. Their eyes are hopeful, fearful, and sorrowful conveying everything only the other can understand. To Luna it feels as if no one else has ever been forced to live in a world where they cannot join. At least not until now, and she is almost positive that having everything then watching it all crumble before you is more painful than growing up knowing you can never be one of the group. Draco had been in the group, he had sat at the top; an immortal among unworthy men and when the war ended he received more contempt than common garden gnomes. She figures in this, her offer of friendship, he has more to lose than she does. “After all, I wasn’t the god that everyone turned their back on.” Luna thinks sympathetically.
He steps towards her, his usual guard down and she can see the trepidation in his movements. When Draco stands before her, he gazes long and hard at her face, pink with the cold, “Yes, I will be.”
The months pass after that, winter leaves them as Persephone returns to her mother and spring appears. They meet everyday some weeks, and others they don’t find the time to see one another. Yet their friendship is growing. Luna is learning so much about him that she can pick up on his moods easily and confidently. So when he comes to meet her in an empty classroom with his shoulders slumping, Luna knows that he is anxious about something. Hopping off the dusty teacher’s desk she joins him by the door, “What is wrong Draco?”
He chews the right side of his bottom lip, a weakness he only allows her to see, and gives her a shocked glance. “Why do you ask that?” He asks as he takes a step away from her.
Rolling her eyes, Luna laughs at his antics, “You practically reek of fear. Bloody coward.”
“Shut it you.” He glares, but the affect is deplorable for a Slytherin. Then with a sigh he leans back against the wall, looking at his expensive Italian leather shoes, obviously thinking about a delicate topic.
Luna reaches out, her small palm brushing his pale cheek. His grey eyes are wide and strangely childish when she does such things, and the vulnerability in them makes her heart ache, “Speak to me.” It is soft, pleading, and generally concerned; she knows he cannot resist when she asks so sincerely. Draco’s eyes are fearful; he licks at his raw bottom lip, and grabs her wrist tight before running his long fingers over the back of her hand.
“Come home with me.” He closes his eyes, leaning into the warmth of her palm, and she savours the lovely feeling coiling in her belly. “I know your friends don’t know about me, because I asked you to keep this quiet. Yet, I am selfish and am begging you to tell them to fuck off, and come spend the summer with me.”
Coyly she smiles, “And if I refuse?”
He accepts the challenge, “I won’t accept no for an answer, and will kidnap you anyway.”
“Then how can I refuse Lord Malfoy?” She laughs as he rolls his eyes and pushes her playfully away.
“Sod off!” He grumbles despite the fact an unwilling smile twitches at the corners of his mouth.
Summer at Malfoy Manor differs greatly from Luna’s previous summers with her father. The main difference being that they stay in one place for a long period of time; oddly she finds it peaceful and comforting. She and Draco spend their days basking in the sun, exploring the gardens, and swimming in the pond. In this environment he is care free and almost reckless, as if nothing can touch him in his realm. Yet, some days, when his mother calls him into her private parlour, he is that moody youth she remembers from their first encounter. It is at those times that he pulls away, recluses to that secret corner of his mind that she has yet to reach. On those days, she feels helpless, insignificant, and worse yet completely invisible.
She is lounging on the bank of the large pond, wondering if she can discover some new and incredible creature in its depths, when Draco approaches. Candidly she smiles and pats the soft grassy ground beside her, momentarily he hesitates. Luna pretends not to notice his brief uneasiness as he takes her offer. Silence encompasses them, as it has for the past five days of this week and again Luna feels discomfort coiling in the pit of her stomach. Will today be the day? She wonders fearfully, Will today be the day he decides he no longer needs me? She is startled from her wayward thoughts by Draco’s warm palm closing over the back side of her hand, toying with the inseams of her white fingers. She relishes the new sensation and wonders if this is the same stir a person being hit by lightning feels. Watching his face, she tries to find confirmation that he is feeling this strange desire as well. However, his face reveals nothing. His eyes blank and expressionless as they stare out across the rippling surface of the pond. Without thought Luna reaches out with her other hand, caressing the side of his jaw. Grey eyes snap to her face, alarm, worry, and something warm yet anguished that Luna cannot place fly across his face. She pulls him closer, her nose nuzzling his, her smooth cheek rubbing at the invisible stubble on his, and as she moves her lips closer to his he yanks back. Rejection she is used to, but somehow it hurts more coming from Draco.
“Luna!” He calls out to her, and she doesn’t remember leaving him. Yet suddenly she is running and the wind is warm on her face, but coolly caresses the wet tear tracks on her face.
She misses dinner. Lady Malfoy comes to personally fetch her, and she pretends that she is not feeling well. Which isn’t much of a lie, but she doesn’t want to tell Draco’s mother that she is embarrassed to be seen by him. Her, little Loony Lovegood and him, Draco Malfoy the fallen prince; only in fairy tales do princes fall for girls like her, and even those girls are better than she will ever be.
Her eyes are swollen, red rimmed, and tender, but she cannot stop looking at them in the vanity mirror of her guest room. They mock her, telling her again what she already knew, and she figures it is a just punishment. Of course Luna, Draco Malfoy will fall in love with you. Hermione’s dismissive tone rings in her ears. Why would you want a stupid ferret boy like him? Ron’s voice sharper than Hermione’s had been. I am sure it will all work out for the best. Ginny’s friendly, giggling voice cruel in her mind. As she looks into her own eyes she can see Harry, reflecting out of the other side of the mirror; silent as always, with a pitying look in his eyes. She wonders again why she always seems to fall for the ones who will never have her.
Brushing her hair, she counts the strokes and remembers a time when her mother used to do this sort of thing for her. In her nose she can smell the lavender scent of her mother’s shampoo and the clean smell of her soft skin. Her beautiful mother with her lovely black wings that used to surround them, and cradle Luna in warmth; her mother humming and holding her until she fell asleep. She wants that. Wants that loving relationship that her parents had, and that child that symbolises the love between them; in scared realisation she knows that her “fever” has set in. If she doesn’t kiss someone she chooses soon, she is liable to grab the first person she sees and kiss them senseless. As she rubs her eyes wearily there is a knock on her door.
“I’m busy,” she calls.
“I don’t care. Let me in.” Draco says, his voice muffled by the thick wood.
“I’m naked!” she calls out again.
“All the more reason to open the door,” She can visualise his cheeky smirk and despite her best efforts it makes her smile.
Without knowing why, she gets up her feet muffled by the plush carpet as she moves to let him in. When the door opens he looks her over before donning a disappointed face, “What happened to the naked girl I was talking to?”
“She left.” Luna waves her hand dismissively, “She can’t be seen by any other man except her betrothed.”
His face falls a bit at those words, but quickly he covers it up by clearing his throat, “Yes well I assume he is a lucky man.”
“Maybe, she wouldn’t know because none has come to claim her yet...” This is new, and looking at Draco Luna can tell it is terrifying to him as well. They have journeyed into uncharted territory.
His gaze sparks with a challenge as he says, “None are worthy of such a girl.”
With a self depreciative smile she replies, “Or perhaps it is the girl who isn’t worthy of them.”
Draco hisses in anger, “She’d be a complete fool to believe that.”
Her eyes are on him again, as her heart hammers erratically against her sternum and an angry flush warms her cheeks. He stands there calmly collected, staring her down as if his words are not meant to lead her on. That makes her burn with rage, sorrow, and lust as she advances on him. Tears blinding her as she stands looking up at his pale pointy face and the gentle exhales from his nose cool their damp tracks. “You have no right to say that!”
He appears unaffected, and she wants to hit him, wants to push him until that mask crumbles. All this time and there are still things he buries from her; it makes her feel lowly and common. “It’s not fair!” She wails at him, her small fists hitting his chest with all her might. He allows it, his arms curling about her thin shoulders and pulling her closer to him as her sobs deepen. Tears run rampant, staining the white button up shirt he wears, but Draco holds her tight. And despite all that she hates about him, Luna knows in that instant that she loves him more deeply than she will ever hate him. “Why?” She sobs against him. She despises the fact that he’s made her feel this deeply.
His fingers curl through the strands of her hair, and she can feel his nose nuzzle against her temple. Draco’s deep inhale surprises her, but even more surprising is the fact that he starts gently sobbing. “I don’t know how to make you happy.” He whispers, childish insecurity shinning through his perfected facade. She clings hopefully to it, and instinctively reaches her hands up to touch his neck, running her fingers over the soft skin. Savouring his feel, and relishing his warmth, hoping that this won’t be her last moment to hold him.
“Kiss me.” She whispers without a thought. He stills, and tries to withdraw from her hold.
“Luna,” He is serious, his childish uncertainty receding as he starts withdrawing emotionally and physically. “I can’t kiss you.”
Luna, despairingly, asks, “Because you don’t want to confuse a non Veela?” Looking into his eyes she says, “You don’t want to be the one to get stuck with Loony Luna Lovegood and her delusions.”
Cold steely grey eyes glare at her as large hands grip her upper arms painfully, “I do not think you are delusional.” Shaking her lightly his voice rises, “Don’t you dare assume that I am like those ignorant fools you call friends!”
She isn’t backing down from him, and glares back as she digs her fingernails into his chest through the fabric of his shirt. “You are the one giving off mixed signals! One minute I think I may have actually found a boy who likes me, and the next you are cold and distant!” Tears well up once more, making it hard for her to see his face clearly, “Just tell me honestly, don’t lead me on, if I am wasting my time here I want to know!” Breathing deeply she adds, “I need to know if I should search for a partner somewhere else.”
She doesn’t have time to think or react as he slams her up against the dresser to her left, his eyes almost black from the dim lighting of the room as his face moves closer to hers. Draco’s breath hot as it ghosts her lips, and she can taste the spices from his dinner and cigarettes on it; gods how she yearns. Her fever is raging, pheromones rising, and she is scared that she will actually lose control. His voice jostles her out of her fearful thoughts, “I will never share you!” He licks his chapped lips, his eyes dilated and blown as if he’s downed too many recreational potions, “I know I’m not worthy, but I cannot stand the thought of you belonging to someone else!” His hands release her, and travel up her bare arms, caressing her and igniting a fire within her veins as they move. When they tickle the delicate curve of her neck she trembles and arches into him, “I would kiss you.” He whispers against her mouth, “I would claim you, dominate you as your mate, but...” He trails off, his sharp yet soft nose rubbing against hers. His shaved cheek caressing hers, as his hard thighs press against her body; it is electrifying and she wants, no, needs more.
“But?” She asks, and is unsurprised by the breathless tone of her voice.
“To kiss you would be to damn you.” His lips ghost the shell of her ear, “I would never forgive myself for that Luna.”
“What if I chose you?” Her lips brush his strong jaw, and the shiver she feels running down his spine ignites a boldness she’s never known.
He groans, “Veela don’t have choices, they fall for whomever is lucky enough to claim them first.”
It is as if ice water splashes over their raging embers of desire, and yet she is happy because, “You believed me?”
He moves back, his eyes are glassy but serious, “Of course I believe you. If I didn’t I’d make fun of you, what kind of person do you think I am?” He smirks, “I am not the sort to pretend to care for the sake of being nice.” He strokes her brow with light barely there touches, “Besides I truly believed when my mother said you were perfect for me.”
She frowns; Lady Malfoy had stayed as far from Luna as possible the entire summer. Mostly Draco said she had been out visiting relatives and taking care of the Malfoy family affairs. “What does that have to do with me being a Veela?”
He leans against her once more, his mouth curving with sinful intent, “You couldn’t tell, could you?”
Pressing flat against the dresser she asks, “Tell what?”
He chuckles, “For a Ravenclaw, you are awfully dim Loony.”
Her stomach flutters, “Quit teasing.”
“Never.” His forehead rests against hers, and his mouth hovers centimetres away from hers, “She’s been in your position before.”
Realisation dawns on her as he says that, “What?”
“You heard me.” He says with a roll of his eyes, “That’s why she believes you will be the perfect Mrs. Draco Malfoy.” He sighs but doesn’t move away, “At first I willingly agreed with her idea, after all you are a great person to be around so marrying you wouldn’t be a chore.” Draco gently cups her cheek, “Yet, as Mother kept telling me to ‘seal the deal,’ I kept having flashes of our future. I knew that you would wither in the type of life I’d enslave you to.”
In a way she is confused, because she was sure that somewhere Draco only knew selfishness. However, as she studies his torn expression she knows that all he knows, deep down, is goodness. Somewhere he is beautiful, and she savours the fact that she is one of the few who have had the pleasure of seeing him like this. “I would never wither, because I will always have you.” She smiles, and feels the tension that has been mounting melt away. “Love me Draco, as only you can.”
“I can’t do this to you Luna.” His resolve is stronger than she anticipates and so Luna does the one thing she never hoped to use on a member of the opposite sex. It’s allure time She thinks.
The allure is a release of pheromones that cater to the desires of all the males around her, or any Veela for that matter, and Luna hopes that her instincts will push Draco to break. Then perhaps he will take what she wants him to have. She could kiss him, but then her creature self would forever feel as if he did not desire her enough to claim her, but it won’t mind giving him a helping hand with seduction tactics.
She watches as perspiration begins beading on his forehead and lip, her senses are sharper in “Veela mode” and she can smell as well as taste the salty essence of him on the air. Desire coils within her, like a cobra ready to strike with the thought of killing. She feels predatory, and in fearful fascination Luna discovers she likes it, a lot.
“Draco,” She intones softly, her eyes and voice laced with desire, “You’re sweating.”
“I-,” He swallows, his pupils contracting to small circles despite the dimness, “I’m alright, just a little warm I suppose.” A nervous laugh escapes his throat, “I should have told Cretin to keep the cooling charms on at night.
Luna arches forward, her own body perspiring lightly as the passionate hunger courses through her veins, “Yes, perhaps my nightgown wouldn’t be sticking to me if he had.” She pretends not to notice how his eyes flit to the thin coverings, lingering on her unbound breasts.
“Yes...perhaps.”
“Well goodnight.” She says suddenly, causing him to startle out of his entranced staring at her hidden body.
“Uh-what?” He watches despairingly as she moves easily away from the dresser and over to the large bed. Odd for he had been putting up more of a fight only moments ago, and Luna longs for his forceful demeanour to return.
She glances at him over her shoulder, being sure to pull her long hair over her other one allowing him to stare at the taunting sight of her backside through her thin white gown. “I will see you at breakfast, yes?”
He remains silent for a long time, then suddenly, “Hmmm? Ah, yes! Breakfast!”
“Well goodnight,” Lowing her lids, she looks at him through the veil of her lashes, as she had seen Ginny do many times with boys, caressing his name as it rolls off her tongue, “Draco.”
He swallows, nodding before turning and exiting the room. Yet the door doesn’t click letting her know that it hasn’t been shut. As well as telling her that this scheme is working, with a wicked grin she climbs up onto the plush comforter of the bed. She hears the door creak slightly, and makes sure to appear as if she hasn’t noticed while she faces the opposite direction. Luna pulls the tie keeping her nightgown closed in the front, and allows it to fan open. He sucks in a breath, but she again pretends not to notice as she allows it to whisper against her spine on its downward decent to the comforter; exposing her for Draco’s greedy gaze.
She breathes in deeply, and sighs out blissfully as she lightly runs the pads of her fingers along her shoulders and clavicles. That is all it takes for his tenacity to shatter, and Luna almost laughs triumphantly as the bed dips behind her before warm cloth covered arms envelope her. His lips moist against her ear, breathing heavy as he moans, “Loony, do you know what you’ve been doing to me?”
Coyly she says, “No Lord Malfoy, why don’t you tell me?”
He presses flush against her back and she can feel him through the layers of his clothing, electricity burns through her as she giggles nervously. Draco’s hot, moist mouth travels down her neck, his tongue tickling a path along her sensitive vein there before sliding back up and seeking out her jaw. “I’d rather show you.” With that he cups her cheek and gently turns her face towards his. The angle is awkward, but Luna doesn’t mind. Especially when thin lips press against hers, before Draco’s pale pink tongue dances along the seam of her lips and enters her virgin mouth. Luna’s never been kissed before so she has nothing compare it to, and at first she is awkward. Yet, after a few moments she starts mimicking Draco’s slow torturous movements. When she reciprocates a low humming starts ringing in her ears, as a magical force envelopes her and races through the entirety of her being. As her closed eyes open she sees him, and in that instant she knows that this is who she’s meant to love for now and forever after.
They break apart, Draco staring at her with reverent lust filled eyes asks, “Lovely Loony Lovegood, will you forgive this selfish man-boy for claiming you as his own?”
“Of course.” She wraps her arms about his neck, and pulls him in for a quick chaste kiss, “I wouldn’t want any other man-boy, Draco, just you.”
Epilogue (one year, six months later)
Winter is upon them again, the cold furious winds whip at Luna’s long waves. Demeter’s agony is palpable, and the dark grey skies reflect her inner turmoil. Used to Luna would pity such pain, but now she smiles as she skips down the stone walkway in Diagon Alley; the snow tickling her rosy nose as she moves. Pausing in front of a fruit stand, Luna admires the imports of vivid turquoise star shaped fruits from South America. While wondering if Draco would enjoy this peculiar food she hears a familiar male voice call her name.
“Luna,” at once, she remembers a time when that timbre caused her to feel a rush of excitement. “Is that you?”
Turning she smiles, a tight sort of feeling that she knows doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “Harry. How have you been?”
He is the same as she remembers him, broader in the shoulders and she assumes that is from the Auror job the Prophet keeps going on about. His usual self depreciating smile is in its usual place, but somehow the effect of it has dimmed for her. It isn’t as charming as it once was, and perhaps it never was anything special. What a realisation that is for her, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on that thought for Harry says. “Oh I’ve been alright, working mostly, how about you?”
Luna glances away for a moment, wondering if there is an excuse she can make to get away as quickly as possible, but when she sees none she turns back and says, “Oh I’ve been well. Bought a cottage not to long ago and am in the process of fixing it up.”
He smiles, a genuine looking turn of the lips, “Well that’s good to hear, I’ve been worried about you. Haven’t heard from you in quite some time, and it was beginning to make me uneasy.”
She frowns, the thought of him worrying about her a foreign concept, “Why would you worry?”
Harry seems shocked by her question and responds, “Because we’re friends.”
Not so long ago she would have killed to hear such a thing fall from his lips, but now she feels barely anything for those words. She doesn’t need friends like Harry, Ginny, Hermione, or Ron. She has someone, and he fills her with every emotion a person needs, what they all yearn for. He is her Draco and she is his-
“Loony!” She smiles brightly, and notes Harry’s dark scowl before she turns to the source of her heart. He is even paler in winter, with a faint pink flush staining his cheeks as the air coming from his mouth makes steam in the cold. Draco is beautiful as always, his body and being a siren call to her own as he approaches. Without any hesitation she moves to him, and with equal ease his arm curves around her back possessively.
“Malfoy!” Harry asks in anger and mild shock, “What are you doing?”
Cool grey eyes look at Harry with hostility and irritation as Draco replies, “Rescuing my wife from the clutches of Evil Saint Potter.”
Harry looks too stunned for words, and Luna takes the moment to admire the black cigarette tucked behind Draco’s ear. She is too wrapped up in his perfectly imperfect face to bother with Harry any longer. She notes those wonderful pale strands of his hair that are growing into his eyes. Which causes her to smile as she rubs a hand absentmindedly along the soft brown leather coat his mother bought him before saying, “I thought you weren’t going to wear this outfit because it was, ‘Horribly Muggle’?” Both Draco and Luna have forgotten Harry as they fall into their own private world of laughter and sunshine.
“Of course I said that just to terrorise her. In fact, I quite like the way my bum looks in denims.” He sniffs dramatically, before dropping the act and grinning mischievously, “I also know that you really enjoy my bum in denims, so I must exploit that fact.”
Luna laughs lightly, “Well I enjoy your bum the most when it’s uncovered.”
“Oh ho ho, who knew that little lovely Loony was such a pervert?” He leans in, whispering against her mouth, “I say we go back home and exploit this little revelation to its fullest.”
As he turns her, and begins leading her away from the little fruit stand Draco calls over his shoulder, “Potter, you should’ve scooped up on this Snitch while you had the chance. I guess I caught it first for once.” Luna pinches him lightly on the side which causes him to smile and add, “Now go find your Weaselette and leave my Veela alone.”
“Draco.” She chides softly, but her giggle ruins the reprimand, and Luna can’t help but smile up at the grey overcast sky.
Once they were both frozen in perpetual winter, feeling the agony of Demeter weigh upon them constantly. Knowing how she felt to have nothing, and feeling unsure while wondering if perhaps death was better than here. Now they face the winters with optimism, for they have each other and know that as long as they are together their sunshine will melt the snow. Eternal spring that is what Draco is to Luna and what Luna is to him.
~Fin~
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Author:
crazyparakissPairing: Luna/Draco
Prompt #: #110
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,700
Summary: Their winters were endless until they found each other.
Warning(s): (highlight to read)* Almost R but not quite! Flangst, um Het? Also I kinda suck at the fluff so please don’t kill me.*
Beta: E, a personal acquaintance.
Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
“O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?”
She thought it was always weird that they had been so good to her. There was no such thing as friends, that much was obvious now. Why had she been foolish enough to believe that people could like a girl with her odd habits? Her ‘Loony’ nature?
“How could I have been so stupid?” She wonders aloud as she enters a hidden alcove in the vacant courtyard. She sits on the cold stone bench and watches the melancholy decent of large snow flakes. Winter, it’s a season she has never enjoyed. At least not since her mother passed away has she felt anything more than sorrow when watching the world die. It’s not fair, she thinks, Demeter’s daughter Persephone will return in a few months time and the world will thrive once more. Yet Mummy is never coming home. I will never have her again. My winter will never end. She kicks up the settled snow on the ground in front of her covered bench, and watches as it catches the wind, swirling about before falling elsewhere. Wondering again about how she could have been so naive, she thinks about the conversation she over heard in the library.
Down the isle on potions texts Luna watches as Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron walk past with their school bags heavy with homework. A smile steals over her face and she decides that once she’s located her book she will join them at their table. Yet as she reaches up to take her tomb by its spine she falters, as her name and not so quiet laughter reaches her ears.
“Of course it was awful, did you see she was wearing the radish earrings again? I don’t know why she thinks they go well with her uniform; honestly they don’t go with anything.”Hermione’s prim condescending voice causes Ginny to give off a bell like laugh.
“Oh I know! But I don’t want to say anything about it because she is Luna and I would feel bad about making her feel insecure.” Ginny’s voice taking on her gossip tone.
Luna peers through the bookshelf; making sure not to be spotted and watches as Ron grunts, scratching behind his ear with his dry quill, saying, “As if she would, that girl isn’t normal enough to get her feelings hurt.”
Harry sits quietly for a long moment after that, looking rather torn. He too fiddles with his quill, passing it over and under his knuckles absentmindedly. Luna hopes he will defend her, yet he doesn’t and for that she is severely disappointed. She believed, at one time, that Harry understood. For isn’t he a freak as well? Yet there he is allowing her to be belittled by her “friends,” if anything, he is worse for it.
Ginny is the one who speaks next, “I think she may be getting worse. She told me this barmy story the other day.”
Hermione looks at her, giving her undivided attention, unlike when she listens to Luna. “Well what did she say?”
Ginny chews her mouth for a moment, looking a little hesitant, before she responds, “Something about how since she had her birthday last month she has started changing.”
Ron snickers as he starts flipping through pages of his DADA textbook. “I tell you what’s changing, that girl is losing touch with reality.”
“Well we already knew that Ronald.” Hermione scolds scathingly before nodding at Ginny, “Anyways you were saying?”
“Apparently she believes it is because she is part Veela.”
Harry’s eyes snap up from his doodling on Ron’s worn book, “What?”
Ron is turning purple from trying to suppress the boisterous laughter caught in his throat. Hermione just looks too shocked for words, which is entirely unlike her.
“Apparently her mother was a Veela and she has come into her inheritance.” Ginny folds her arms on the table; leaning forward she dramatically whispers, “Whoever kisses her first will be her husband.”
“Um I am pretty certain that Bill was not Fleur’s first kiss.” Ron says with a sceptical look.
“Well when I asked her that she said Fleur had obviously given her first kiss away before her inheritance came. So she was one of the many who have to take it to the next step, meaning she lost her virginity to Bill. Which came after inheritance hit so she bonded with him, then.”
Hermione looks disgusted, “Really, this is the last straw.” She imitates a kind yet dismissive voice, “Yes Luna radish earrings are fab. Of course Nargles exist Luna. Sure there are fairies behind the owlry. Of course your mother was a Veela, and since you’ve come into your inheritance you will marry the first person you kiss.” With a huff she crosses her arms and in a tired voice she says, “I will not encourage these delusions anymore!”
To Luna it hurts to hear and so she silently retreats away from the bookshelf and goes round the back of a few more to avoid their table. Once she is far enough away she exits the library.
That’s how she winds up here, alone in the cold. From her right she hears the sound of crunching snow, and so she turns to see another wayward being looking lonely and confused. Of course she is familiar with him, everyone knows that crown of silvery blond hair; he is the infamous Draco Malfoy. Quietly she studies him, noting his movements. Something doesn’t seem right with him; his head is bent, and he is doing nothing about the fat flakes of snow clinging to his hair, nor is he wearing anything more than his casual wear. No coat? She wonders what caused him to come out here in such a manner. Perhaps he is lonely too... As she ponders that she slowly begins to feel sorry for him.
“How lonely it must be to be Draco Malfoy.” She says softly, yet he hears it.
Pale grey eyes snap up and at first there is a small second of shock before Draco covers it with his indifferent mask. Luna knows all about those...
“How tragic it must be to be Loony Luna Lovegood.” He replies with a shrug. The words sting, and she pretends that hearing it from a stranger is better than hearing it from her friends. However, for some reason it hurts more. Perhaps because it is obvious to all that I am delusional and not a real girl, with real feelings.
“Yes it is tragic.” She whispers, but again he hears. Something in his glassy glance cracks, and he smiles, a sad world weary curve of pale pink lips.
“Yes, Loony, it is lonely.” Draco’s gaze penetrates to the core of her soul, and she feels as if she hasn’t felt this understood in a long while. It is enough, and for once the word Loony doesn’t cut so deep. Standing she nods at him, finally aware of the chill in her bones she moves in the direction of the castle.
Pausing she smiles lightly, “One day Persephone will come and melt the snow around our hearts.”
With an understanding nod he says, “For you maybe. The gods won’t forgive me.”
“Then I shall pray for you.” With that she walks away.
Walking the many busy corridors she notices that only the seventh years are scarce. Many, if not all of them were not her friends, but that doesn’t lessen the pain of the truth. She isn’t surprised by their low numbers, after all most who fought died or were severely injured, and those that sympathised with the Death Eaters would not be welcome. Their numbers is what caused McGonagall to mesh the entire group of seventh/eighth years together. So now she shares classes with Harry and the others. In the beginning she was quite happy about that, having no friends in her classes the previous years, but now she doesn’t know how she will stomach sitting with them. Pretending she didn’t hear is harder to do now that she has been betrayed by those she believed in the most.
Clutching her bag closer to her breast she enters the dungeon classroom. Foul perfumes from the bubbling cauldron at the head of the classroom hang thickly in the air, and Luna tries hard to suppress a gag. As usual she is the last one in and her seat selection is very minimal. She chooses to take the rickety seat at the back, and acts as if she doesn’t see Ginny smiling, trying to wave her over to her table. Luna is saved the trouble of avoiding eye contact when Professor Slughorn calls for attention. Ginny seems disappointed as she turns back around to face the instructor, but Luna doesn’t really care. She idly draws little fairies across her note parchment before giving a subtle wave of her wand and bringing them to life. With a lazy grin she watches as they dance across the paper, making ripples in the inky lake she gave them to play in. Luna comes quickly from her daydreaming stare when a rather loud explosion happens. Wide blue eyes take in the scene as it unfolds.
Slughorn is at Malfoy’s side instantly glaring darkly at the large foamy purple mess that covers his classroom with its terrible smell. He yells, “What were you thinking Malfoy!? You cannot add the pickled newt liver! This is elementary knowledge!” The professor doesn’t notice the way Ron and Harry grin at one another, or the way they exchange a not so subtle high five. Luna cannot see Draco’s face but the rigid line of his back makes her heart clench in pity.
“I am sorry Professor; I must have grabbed the wrong ingredient on mistake.” His voice is void of emotion as he begins clearing the mess away with his wand.
“Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
After that class is relatively boring and Luna tunes the surrounding noises out as she waits for the period to end.
In the courtyard, during lunch she sits on the same bench looking at the settled blinding white frozen ground. Once more she hears feet crunching the ground as a body approaches, and a subtle glance reveals that it is Draco. He stands with one hand in his robe pocket and the other holds a cigarette up to his chapped lips.
“That isn’t good for you, you know?” She says calmly, in the same soft voice she used the last time.
Without looking at her he replies, “I wouldn’t do it if it was.” Taking another hit he glances over his shoulder at her and exhales, the smoke coils around his face like a protective aura. In a way Luna finds it very endearing. “So what’s it to you if I do it or not Loony?” Again that hurtful nickname falling from his lips does not affect her. In a way she enjoys the way he says it. Honestly without a care that she hears it, unlike the way other people speak behind her back and pretend to be sorry when she over hears.
“I don’t really care, either way; I just wanted to tell you that it isn’t healthy.” Luna cocks her head sideways, her hair a long cascade of soft blonde curls over her robed shoulder. He pauses a moment, the fag halfway to his lips, an unreadable emotion momentarily crossing his face. Similar to their last meeting, it is gone seconds later.
He turns and walks over to the bench, “Why do you even talk to me? I know you are a friend of Saint Potter’s so why aren’t you bothering him?”
Head still cocked to the right she stares up at him with wide glazed eyes and smiles sadly, thinking about how a week ago she would have asked herself the same thing. Instead of saying that she asks, “Do you think I’m a bother?”
Draco looks startled, and he sits next to her without answering. Looking at his nearly finished cigarette he sighs, tossing it onto the snow covered ground. She watches as the cherry dies, soaked in a matter of seconds and looking less appetizing than it had between Draco’s lips. For a long while they sit there, together, Draco looking at the ground before him with his large hands hanging limply between his knees. Luna with her feet tucked beneath her bum, curiously studying the side of his face, noting the interesting imperfections. She is so entranced by a small scar where his cheek meets the left side of his nose that she almost misses his quiet omission, “No, I don’t think you’re a bother.” He leans back against the stone wall behind their seat and studies her smiling face before continuing, “In fact, when we talked last you gave me a little something to look forward to.” He grimaces, as if admitting this leaves a sour taste in his mouth, “I have become so used to being invisible or yelled at that you’re loneliness grabbed a hold of me, and made me realise that I am not the only one suffering.” His smile is self-depreciating, “In a way it was almost as if I had found a friend in all of this.”
With unblinking eyes she stares at him for a long while, silent and confused as well as happy, but he mistakes her silence for rejection. Standing swiftly he says, “Never mind, forget I said that.”
After he starts walking away she halts him with her imploring, “Will you really be my friend?”
Turning back to face her she marvels at the way his black cloak whips about him, a stark contrast to him and the world surrounding them. Their eyes are hopeful, fearful, and sorrowful conveying everything only the other can understand. To Luna it feels as if no one else has ever been forced to live in a world where they cannot join. At least not until now, and she is almost positive that having everything then watching it all crumble before you is more painful than growing up knowing you can never be one of the group. Draco had been in the group, he had sat at the top; an immortal among unworthy men and when the war ended he received more contempt than common garden gnomes. She figures in this, her offer of friendship, he has more to lose than she does. “After all, I wasn’t the god that everyone turned their back on.” Luna thinks sympathetically.
He steps towards her, his usual guard down and she can see the trepidation in his movements. When Draco stands before her, he gazes long and hard at her face, pink with the cold, “Yes, I will be.”
The months pass after that, winter leaves them as Persephone returns to her mother and spring appears. They meet everyday some weeks, and others they don’t find the time to see one another. Yet their friendship is growing. Luna is learning so much about him that she can pick up on his moods easily and confidently. So when he comes to meet her in an empty classroom with his shoulders slumping, Luna knows that he is anxious about something. Hopping off the dusty teacher’s desk she joins him by the door, “What is wrong Draco?”
He chews the right side of his bottom lip, a weakness he only allows her to see, and gives her a shocked glance. “Why do you ask that?” He asks as he takes a step away from her.
Rolling her eyes, Luna laughs at his antics, “You practically reek of fear. Bloody coward.”
“Shut it you.” He glares, but the affect is deplorable for a Slytherin. Then with a sigh he leans back against the wall, looking at his expensive Italian leather shoes, obviously thinking about a delicate topic.
Luna reaches out, her small palm brushing his pale cheek. His grey eyes are wide and strangely childish when she does such things, and the vulnerability in them makes her heart ache, “Speak to me.” It is soft, pleading, and generally concerned; she knows he cannot resist when she asks so sincerely. Draco’s eyes are fearful; he licks at his raw bottom lip, and grabs her wrist tight before running his long fingers over the back of her hand.
“Come home with me.” He closes his eyes, leaning into the warmth of her palm, and she savours the lovely feeling coiling in her belly. “I know your friends don’t know about me, because I asked you to keep this quiet. Yet, I am selfish and am begging you to tell them to fuck off, and come spend the summer with me.”
Coyly she smiles, “And if I refuse?”
He accepts the challenge, “I won’t accept no for an answer, and will kidnap you anyway.”
“Then how can I refuse Lord Malfoy?” She laughs as he rolls his eyes and pushes her playfully away.
“Sod off!” He grumbles despite the fact an unwilling smile twitches at the corners of his mouth.
Summer at Malfoy Manor differs greatly from Luna’s previous summers with her father. The main difference being that they stay in one place for a long period of time; oddly she finds it peaceful and comforting. She and Draco spend their days basking in the sun, exploring the gardens, and swimming in the pond. In this environment he is care free and almost reckless, as if nothing can touch him in his realm. Yet, some days, when his mother calls him into her private parlour, he is that moody youth she remembers from their first encounter. It is at those times that he pulls away, recluses to that secret corner of his mind that she has yet to reach. On those days, she feels helpless, insignificant, and worse yet completely invisible.
She is lounging on the bank of the large pond, wondering if she can discover some new and incredible creature in its depths, when Draco approaches. Candidly she smiles and pats the soft grassy ground beside her, momentarily he hesitates. Luna pretends not to notice his brief uneasiness as he takes her offer. Silence encompasses them, as it has for the past five days of this week and again Luna feels discomfort coiling in the pit of her stomach. Will today be the day? She wonders fearfully, Will today be the day he decides he no longer needs me? She is startled from her wayward thoughts by Draco’s warm palm closing over the back side of her hand, toying with the inseams of her white fingers. She relishes the new sensation and wonders if this is the same stir a person being hit by lightning feels. Watching his face, she tries to find confirmation that he is feeling this strange desire as well. However, his face reveals nothing. His eyes blank and expressionless as they stare out across the rippling surface of the pond. Without thought Luna reaches out with her other hand, caressing the side of his jaw. Grey eyes snap to her face, alarm, worry, and something warm yet anguished that Luna cannot place fly across his face. She pulls him closer, her nose nuzzling his, her smooth cheek rubbing at the invisible stubble on his, and as she moves her lips closer to his he yanks back. Rejection she is used to, but somehow it hurts more coming from Draco.
“Luna!” He calls out to her, and she doesn’t remember leaving him. Yet suddenly she is running and the wind is warm on her face, but coolly caresses the wet tear tracks on her face.
She misses dinner. Lady Malfoy comes to personally fetch her, and she pretends that she is not feeling well. Which isn’t much of a lie, but she doesn’t want to tell Draco’s mother that she is embarrassed to be seen by him. Her, little Loony Lovegood and him, Draco Malfoy the fallen prince; only in fairy tales do princes fall for girls like her, and even those girls are better than she will ever be.
Her eyes are swollen, red rimmed, and tender, but she cannot stop looking at them in the vanity mirror of her guest room. They mock her, telling her again what she already knew, and she figures it is a just punishment. Of course Luna, Draco Malfoy will fall in love with you. Hermione’s dismissive tone rings in her ears. Why would you want a stupid ferret boy like him? Ron’s voice sharper than Hermione’s had been. I am sure it will all work out for the best. Ginny’s friendly, giggling voice cruel in her mind. As she looks into her own eyes she can see Harry, reflecting out of the other side of the mirror; silent as always, with a pitying look in his eyes. She wonders again why she always seems to fall for the ones who will never have her.
Brushing her hair, she counts the strokes and remembers a time when her mother used to do this sort of thing for her. In her nose she can smell the lavender scent of her mother’s shampoo and the clean smell of her soft skin. Her beautiful mother with her lovely black wings that used to surround them, and cradle Luna in warmth; her mother humming and holding her until she fell asleep. She wants that. Wants that loving relationship that her parents had, and that child that symbolises the love between them; in scared realisation she knows that her “fever” has set in. If she doesn’t kiss someone she chooses soon, she is liable to grab the first person she sees and kiss them senseless. As she rubs her eyes wearily there is a knock on her door.
“I’m busy,” she calls.
“I don’t care. Let me in.” Draco says, his voice muffled by the thick wood.
“I’m naked!” she calls out again.
“All the more reason to open the door,” She can visualise his cheeky smirk and despite her best efforts it makes her smile.
Without knowing why, she gets up her feet muffled by the plush carpet as she moves to let him in. When the door opens he looks her over before donning a disappointed face, “What happened to the naked girl I was talking to?”
“She left.” Luna waves her hand dismissively, “She can’t be seen by any other man except her betrothed.”
His face falls a bit at those words, but quickly he covers it up by clearing his throat, “Yes well I assume he is a lucky man.”
“Maybe, she wouldn’t know because none has come to claim her yet...” This is new, and looking at Draco Luna can tell it is terrifying to him as well. They have journeyed into uncharted territory.
His gaze sparks with a challenge as he says, “None are worthy of such a girl.”
With a self depreciative smile she replies, “Or perhaps it is the girl who isn’t worthy of them.”
Draco hisses in anger, “She’d be a complete fool to believe that.”
Her eyes are on him again, as her heart hammers erratically against her sternum and an angry flush warms her cheeks. He stands there calmly collected, staring her down as if his words are not meant to lead her on. That makes her burn with rage, sorrow, and lust as she advances on him. Tears blinding her as she stands looking up at his pale pointy face and the gentle exhales from his nose cool their damp tracks. “You have no right to say that!”
He appears unaffected, and she wants to hit him, wants to push him until that mask crumbles. All this time and there are still things he buries from her; it makes her feel lowly and common. “It’s not fair!” She wails at him, her small fists hitting his chest with all her might. He allows it, his arms curling about her thin shoulders and pulling her closer to him as her sobs deepen. Tears run rampant, staining the white button up shirt he wears, but Draco holds her tight. And despite all that she hates about him, Luna knows in that instant that she loves him more deeply than she will ever hate him. “Why?” She sobs against him. She despises the fact that he’s made her feel this deeply.
His fingers curl through the strands of her hair, and she can feel his nose nuzzle against her temple. Draco’s deep inhale surprises her, but even more surprising is the fact that he starts gently sobbing. “I don’t know how to make you happy.” He whispers, childish insecurity shinning through his perfected facade. She clings hopefully to it, and instinctively reaches her hands up to touch his neck, running her fingers over the soft skin. Savouring his feel, and relishing his warmth, hoping that this won’t be her last moment to hold him.
“Kiss me.” She whispers without a thought. He stills, and tries to withdraw from her hold.
“Luna,” He is serious, his childish uncertainty receding as he starts withdrawing emotionally and physically. “I can’t kiss you.”
Luna, despairingly, asks, “Because you don’t want to confuse a non Veela?” Looking into his eyes she says, “You don’t want to be the one to get stuck with Loony Luna Lovegood and her delusions.”
Cold steely grey eyes glare at her as large hands grip her upper arms painfully, “I do not think you are delusional.” Shaking her lightly his voice rises, “Don’t you dare assume that I am like those ignorant fools you call friends!”
She isn’t backing down from him, and glares back as she digs her fingernails into his chest through the fabric of his shirt. “You are the one giving off mixed signals! One minute I think I may have actually found a boy who likes me, and the next you are cold and distant!” Tears well up once more, making it hard for her to see his face clearly, “Just tell me honestly, don’t lead me on, if I am wasting my time here I want to know!” Breathing deeply she adds, “I need to know if I should search for a partner somewhere else.”
She doesn’t have time to think or react as he slams her up against the dresser to her left, his eyes almost black from the dim lighting of the room as his face moves closer to hers. Draco’s breath hot as it ghosts her lips, and she can taste the spices from his dinner and cigarettes on it; gods how she yearns. Her fever is raging, pheromones rising, and she is scared that she will actually lose control. His voice jostles her out of her fearful thoughts, “I will never share you!” He licks his chapped lips, his eyes dilated and blown as if he’s downed too many recreational potions, “I know I’m not worthy, but I cannot stand the thought of you belonging to someone else!” His hands release her, and travel up her bare arms, caressing her and igniting a fire within her veins as they move. When they tickle the delicate curve of her neck she trembles and arches into him, “I would kiss you.” He whispers against her mouth, “I would claim you, dominate you as your mate, but...” He trails off, his sharp yet soft nose rubbing against hers. His shaved cheek caressing hers, as his hard thighs press against her body; it is electrifying and she wants, no, needs more.
“But?” She asks, and is unsurprised by the breathless tone of her voice.
“To kiss you would be to damn you.” His lips ghost the shell of her ear, “I would never forgive myself for that Luna.”
“What if I chose you?” Her lips brush his strong jaw, and the shiver she feels running down his spine ignites a boldness she’s never known.
He groans, “Veela don’t have choices, they fall for whomever is lucky enough to claim them first.”
It is as if ice water splashes over their raging embers of desire, and yet she is happy because, “You believed me?”
He moves back, his eyes are glassy but serious, “Of course I believe you. If I didn’t I’d make fun of you, what kind of person do you think I am?” He smirks, “I am not the sort to pretend to care for the sake of being nice.” He strokes her brow with light barely there touches, “Besides I truly believed when my mother said you were perfect for me.”
She frowns; Lady Malfoy had stayed as far from Luna as possible the entire summer. Mostly Draco said she had been out visiting relatives and taking care of the Malfoy family affairs. “What does that have to do with me being a Veela?”
He leans against her once more, his mouth curving with sinful intent, “You couldn’t tell, could you?”
Pressing flat against the dresser she asks, “Tell what?”
He chuckles, “For a Ravenclaw, you are awfully dim Loony.”
Her stomach flutters, “Quit teasing.”
“Never.” His forehead rests against hers, and his mouth hovers centimetres away from hers, “She’s been in your position before.”
Realisation dawns on her as he says that, “What?”
“You heard me.” He says with a roll of his eyes, “That’s why she believes you will be the perfect Mrs. Draco Malfoy.” He sighs but doesn’t move away, “At first I willingly agreed with her idea, after all you are a great person to be around so marrying you wouldn’t be a chore.” Draco gently cups her cheek, “Yet, as Mother kept telling me to ‘seal the deal,’ I kept having flashes of our future. I knew that you would wither in the type of life I’d enslave you to.”
In a way she is confused, because she was sure that somewhere Draco only knew selfishness. However, as she studies his torn expression she knows that all he knows, deep down, is goodness. Somewhere he is beautiful, and she savours the fact that she is one of the few who have had the pleasure of seeing him like this. “I would never wither, because I will always have you.” She smiles, and feels the tension that has been mounting melt away. “Love me Draco, as only you can.”
“I can’t do this to you Luna.” His resolve is stronger than she anticipates and so Luna does the one thing she never hoped to use on a member of the opposite sex. It’s allure time She thinks.
The allure is a release of pheromones that cater to the desires of all the males around her, or any Veela for that matter, and Luna hopes that her instincts will push Draco to break. Then perhaps he will take what she wants him to have. She could kiss him, but then her creature self would forever feel as if he did not desire her enough to claim her, but it won’t mind giving him a helping hand with seduction tactics.
She watches as perspiration begins beading on his forehead and lip, her senses are sharper in “Veela mode” and she can smell as well as taste the salty essence of him on the air. Desire coils within her, like a cobra ready to strike with the thought of killing. She feels predatory, and in fearful fascination Luna discovers she likes it, a lot.
“Draco,” She intones softly, her eyes and voice laced with desire, “You’re sweating.”
“I-,” He swallows, his pupils contracting to small circles despite the dimness, “I’m alright, just a little warm I suppose.” A nervous laugh escapes his throat, “I should have told Cretin to keep the cooling charms on at night.
Luna arches forward, her own body perspiring lightly as the passionate hunger courses through her veins, “Yes, perhaps my nightgown wouldn’t be sticking to me if he had.” She pretends not to notice how his eyes flit to the thin coverings, lingering on her unbound breasts.
“Yes...perhaps.”
“Well goodnight.” She says suddenly, causing him to startle out of his entranced staring at her hidden body.
“Uh-what?” He watches despairingly as she moves easily away from the dresser and over to the large bed. Odd for he had been putting up more of a fight only moments ago, and Luna longs for his forceful demeanour to return.
She glances at him over her shoulder, being sure to pull her long hair over her other one allowing him to stare at the taunting sight of her backside through her thin white gown. “I will see you at breakfast, yes?”
He remains silent for a long time, then suddenly, “Hmmm? Ah, yes! Breakfast!”
“Well goodnight,” Lowing her lids, she looks at him through the veil of her lashes, as she had seen Ginny do many times with boys, caressing his name as it rolls off her tongue, “Draco.”
He swallows, nodding before turning and exiting the room. Yet the door doesn’t click letting her know that it hasn’t been shut. As well as telling her that this scheme is working, with a wicked grin she climbs up onto the plush comforter of the bed. She hears the door creak slightly, and makes sure to appear as if she hasn’t noticed while she faces the opposite direction. Luna pulls the tie keeping her nightgown closed in the front, and allows it to fan open. He sucks in a breath, but she again pretends not to notice as she allows it to whisper against her spine on its downward decent to the comforter; exposing her for Draco’s greedy gaze.
She breathes in deeply, and sighs out blissfully as she lightly runs the pads of her fingers along her shoulders and clavicles. That is all it takes for his tenacity to shatter, and Luna almost laughs triumphantly as the bed dips behind her before warm cloth covered arms envelope her. His lips moist against her ear, breathing heavy as he moans, “Loony, do you know what you’ve been doing to me?”
Coyly she says, “No Lord Malfoy, why don’t you tell me?”
He presses flush against her back and she can feel him through the layers of his clothing, electricity burns through her as she giggles nervously. Draco’s hot, moist mouth travels down her neck, his tongue tickling a path along her sensitive vein there before sliding back up and seeking out her jaw. “I’d rather show you.” With that he cups her cheek and gently turns her face towards his. The angle is awkward, but Luna doesn’t mind. Especially when thin lips press against hers, before Draco’s pale pink tongue dances along the seam of her lips and enters her virgin mouth. Luna’s never been kissed before so she has nothing compare it to, and at first she is awkward. Yet, after a few moments she starts mimicking Draco’s slow torturous movements. When she reciprocates a low humming starts ringing in her ears, as a magical force envelopes her and races through the entirety of her being. As her closed eyes open she sees him, and in that instant she knows that this is who she’s meant to love for now and forever after.
They break apart, Draco staring at her with reverent lust filled eyes asks, “Lovely Loony Lovegood, will you forgive this selfish man-boy for claiming you as his own?”
“Of course.” She wraps her arms about his neck, and pulls him in for a quick chaste kiss, “I wouldn’t want any other man-boy, Draco, just you.”
Epilogue (one year, six months later)
Winter is upon them again, the cold furious winds whip at Luna’s long waves. Demeter’s agony is palpable, and the dark grey skies reflect her inner turmoil. Used to Luna would pity such pain, but now she smiles as she skips down the stone walkway in Diagon Alley; the snow tickling her rosy nose as she moves. Pausing in front of a fruit stand, Luna admires the imports of vivid turquoise star shaped fruits from South America. While wondering if Draco would enjoy this peculiar food she hears a familiar male voice call her name.
“Luna,” at once, she remembers a time when that timbre caused her to feel a rush of excitement. “Is that you?”
Turning she smiles, a tight sort of feeling that she knows doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “Harry. How have you been?”
He is the same as she remembers him, broader in the shoulders and she assumes that is from the Auror job the Prophet keeps going on about. His usual self depreciating smile is in its usual place, but somehow the effect of it has dimmed for her. It isn’t as charming as it once was, and perhaps it never was anything special. What a realisation that is for her, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on that thought for Harry says. “Oh I’ve been alright, working mostly, how about you?”
Luna glances away for a moment, wondering if there is an excuse she can make to get away as quickly as possible, but when she sees none she turns back and says, “Oh I’ve been well. Bought a cottage not to long ago and am in the process of fixing it up.”
He smiles, a genuine looking turn of the lips, “Well that’s good to hear, I’ve been worried about you. Haven’t heard from you in quite some time, and it was beginning to make me uneasy.”
She frowns, the thought of him worrying about her a foreign concept, “Why would you worry?”
Harry seems shocked by her question and responds, “Because we’re friends.”
Not so long ago she would have killed to hear such a thing fall from his lips, but now she feels barely anything for those words. She doesn’t need friends like Harry, Ginny, Hermione, or Ron. She has someone, and he fills her with every emotion a person needs, what they all yearn for. He is her Draco and she is his-
“Loony!” She smiles brightly, and notes Harry’s dark scowl before she turns to the source of her heart. He is even paler in winter, with a faint pink flush staining his cheeks as the air coming from his mouth makes steam in the cold. Draco is beautiful as always, his body and being a siren call to her own as he approaches. Without any hesitation she moves to him, and with equal ease his arm curves around her back possessively.
“Malfoy!” Harry asks in anger and mild shock, “What are you doing?”
Cool grey eyes look at Harry with hostility and irritation as Draco replies, “Rescuing my wife from the clutches of Evil Saint Potter.”
Harry looks too stunned for words, and Luna takes the moment to admire the black cigarette tucked behind Draco’s ear. She is too wrapped up in his perfectly imperfect face to bother with Harry any longer. She notes those wonderful pale strands of his hair that are growing into his eyes. Which causes her to smile as she rubs a hand absentmindedly along the soft brown leather coat his mother bought him before saying, “I thought you weren’t going to wear this outfit because it was, ‘Horribly Muggle’?” Both Draco and Luna have forgotten Harry as they fall into their own private world of laughter and sunshine.
“Of course I said that just to terrorise her. In fact, I quite like the way my bum looks in denims.” He sniffs dramatically, before dropping the act and grinning mischievously, “I also know that you really enjoy my bum in denims, so I must exploit that fact.”
Luna laughs lightly, “Well I enjoy your bum the most when it’s uncovered.”
“Oh ho ho, who knew that little lovely Loony was such a pervert?” He leans in, whispering against her mouth, “I say we go back home and exploit this little revelation to its fullest.”
As he turns her, and begins leading her away from the little fruit stand Draco calls over his shoulder, “Potter, you should’ve scooped up on this Snitch while you had the chance. I guess I caught it first for once.” Luna pinches him lightly on the side which causes him to smile and add, “Now go find your Weaselette and leave my Veela alone.”
“Draco.” She chides softly, but her giggle ruins the reprimand, and Luna can’t help but smile up at the grey overcast sky.
Once they were both frozen in perpetual winter, feeling the agony of Demeter weigh upon them constantly. Knowing how she felt to have nothing, and feeling unsure while wondering if perhaps death was better than here. Now they face the winters with optimism, for they have each other and know that as long as they are together their sunshine will melt the snow. Eternal spring that is what Draco is to Luna and what Luna is to him.
“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.”
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