Hello!
Here is the not-cat-or-college-related post I was talking about.
Background: So a few days ago (or a week, or two weeks, I have absolutely no sense of time anymore), while I was trying to write some of Camping, I started wondering if Draco could ever fall in love with Luna and how he would do it. I scoured (skimmed, more like) the internet for Draco/Luna fic that could possibly satisfy my curiosity. Finding none - granted, I really didn't look very hard, and when I did find stuff, I wasn't really that interested in reading it - I took it upon my self to write a short fic that would answer all my questions and satisfy this strange curiosity of mine.
I didn't quite do that, but I learned two things.
One: Introvertive!Luna is kind of hard to write. Sure, it's Luna, and she came out of my head easily enough, but I have no idea if she's Luna-y enough, but seeing as how the story I wrote takes place very soon after the end of DH (minus the epilogue, of course), her lack of eccentricity may be justified.
And two: Draco should be with Ginny. :) You can take this fic and say it's pre-pre-Draco/Ginny if you like. Or you can say it's Draco/Luna. Whatever floats your boat. It could go either way.
Will I ever try Draco/Luna again? Who knows, but Draco/Ginny is my OTP. :D
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Title: Noticing
Rating: G
Word Count: 2222 (cool!)
Notes: Thanks to lyndsiefenele for looking over this for me!
Summary: She didn’t mind him calling her loony because he didn’t say it to hurt her. He was stating his opinion, in such a matter-of-fact way that she could almost believe it was true.
Luna crouched next to the lake, her chin on her knees as one arm clutched her legs, swirling a leaf in the water slowly. She studied the ripples that she created, seeking hidden meaning in their altitude and frequency, and, finding none, wondered what she had done to make people dislike her so.
The wind blew against her body and she fought to remain balanced. It pushed the leaf farther out into the lake where she couldn’t reach it. Above her, the sun shone with the intensity of an army of Heliopaths, so brightly that it hurt to keep her eyes open. She wrapped her other arm around her legs and closed her eyes.
Luna had returned to Hogwarts after the battle to complete her unfinished sixth year. It was mandatory for her. She, unlike some war heroes, were still expected to finish school. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone off to some island in the Caribbean to rest and to be together, but as soon as they returned, they’d be able to start their lives. Everyone in the wizarding world wanted to offer them a job.
Luna, Neville, Ginny, and loads others were at Hogwarts. It had taken all summer long to repair the castle, but by September first, it stood ready to be filled with students. Today was an uncharacteristically warm day in November, and most people were taking advantage of the good weather to study outside or lie in the sun.
Luna’s reason for being outside was not as carefree. She was escaping the confines of the castle walls, which had suddenly, and sillily, felt smaller since she had passed through the large oak doors in September. Something about being held prisoner in the Malfoy dungeons for months had ingrained in her a fear of enclosed spaces. Even though, rationally, she knew Hogwarts was not a dungeon, the sight of the stone corridors, wooden doors, and flickering sconces made her breath catch in her throat and her heart pound with panic. It did not help that there were dungeons, or that she had Potions class in them three times a week.
She preferred the outdoors. She loved the feel of the sun against her skin, her hair being blown around her face, the breeze cooling her from the heat. She loved the colors of the trees as autumn took its toll on nature. The oranges and browns of the leaves clashing with the green of the grass or floating on the surface of the lake.
However, outside had not offered her the solace she had sought. She heard the whispers of the other students and didn’t understand why they thought that she couldn’t, just because she was different from them.
“Watch out, Luna! The nargles will get you!” a girl cried as she left the lake and headed back to the castle. Luna didn’t lift her head to see who it was, nor did she acknowledge that anyone had spoken.
A loud whisper, then, from the girl’s male companion, carried to Luna’s ears by the wind: “You know why everyone calls her Luna, right? Because it’s short for her given name, Lunatic.”
“Lunatic Lovegood!”
Luna only knew when they had left because the sounds of their collective cackles grew fainter. She hugged her knees tighter, waiting, just waiting. Maybe someone else would appear and she’d hear their giggles and the gossipy mutters that they did not try to conceal from her.
Her black robe suddenly felt hot and oppressive. Luna stood and pulled it up over her head, tossing the unwanted garment carelessly onto the ground next to her. The sun continued to blaze and she knew she shouldn’t have dressed as warmly as she had. Her rainbow-striped, knee-high socks made her calves itchy. She began to sweat inside her lavender jumper. At least her light, flowy skirt kept her cool.
Luna heard the sound of someone approaching, the person’s feet stepping on dried up leaves and announcing his or her presence.
She didn’t get angry often, but this time she snapped. She had fought with Harry Potter at the Battle of Hogwarts. Didn’t she deserve as much respect as him? Or if not him, his other friends? Wasn’t she Harry’s friend too?
Luna grabbed her wand from behind her ear and spun around, crying, “I’m not loony!”
Draco Malfoy stopped in his tracks, staring at her through startled gray eyes. He had come back to Hogwarts with the rest of them. The world was not ready for another Malfoy to enter the workforce, and possibly blackmail every person in it to get the things he wanted. He bided his time at Hogwarts, starting his seventh year over again, like so many others.
After a pause, he pooled his expression into one of indifference, the corner of his lip turning up slightly in amusement. He came to stand next to her, staring out at the lake as light waves lapped against the shore and the sun beamed down on it like a blessing, or a miracle.
Luna could read people very well; she had always been able to. The mask on Draco’s face was only that: a mask, and one not crafted well, at that. She saw the crack in his façade, in his eyes. Though he appeared carefree, or maybe just curious, Luna could see a very slight wrinkle in his eyebrows as they knit together. It was such a subtle thing that she doubted anyone else would have noticed.
His hands were balled into fists in the pockets of his gray trousers. His whole body was still and tense; she almost felt the wind would knock him down if it blew just hard enough.
He looked at her with empty eyes, gray, cold, and light.
“I didn’t come here to call you names,” he said, “even though I do think you are a bit loony.”
Luna’s body relaxed and she replaced her wand back behind her ear, turning around to stare out into the lake as well. She didn’t mind him calling her loony because he didn’t say it to hurt her. He was stating his opinion, in such a matter-of-fact way that she could almost believe it was true.
“You don’t like the castle either,” she replied bluntly.
He stared at her in surprise, his mask slipping.
“No, I don’t,” he answered honestly, watching her as she began to rock back and forth between the balls of her feet and her heels, her hands clasped together behind her back.
“You don’t like the whispers,” she continued.
“How do you know?” he asked quietly.
“I notice things.”
His mask transformed once again, his lip curling into a sneer. “Keeping tabs on me?”
Luna picked up a rock at her feet and threw it into the lake, watching the ripples grow, looking for that hidden meaning again.
“No. I just notice things.”
“Like what?” he asked mockingly, clearly not believing her.
She picked up another rock as she thought about it.
“Like how Dennis Creevey carries Colin’s camera around his neck and takes pictures with it when he thinks no one is looking because he doesn‘t want anyone to see him saving memories for his brother. And how the Patil twins no longer talk to anyone other than each other. And how Ginny Weasley takes a walk around the edge of the Forbidden Forest every night after dinner, almost hoping something will come out and snatch her up. And how Dean Thomas hides in broom closets because he only feels safe in enclosed spaces ever since he was captured on the run and kept prisoner in your dungeons.”
Luna, with her wide, bright blue eyes, turned to face Draco Malfoy, who stared at her incredulously and with a bit of fear. She could see that too.
“And how Draco Malfoy does not trust a single person in the school because they whisper things about him behind his back, even though they know he can hear them. They do that to me too.”
“I didn’t even want to be here!” he cried savagely, his icy eyes defrosting and filling with tears.
“But your mum made you come back,” Luna whispered. “Or your father.”
Luna reached for his wrist, but he jerked away from her. With lightning speed that Draco did not expect, she snatched at his wrist again, this time catching it, and she held it, not letting him turn away to leave.
What did Luna Lovegood know about Draco Malfoy? Not much beyond what she had heard, what she had seen, and what she had noticed. He was a perfect example of a Slytherin, only interested in saving himself. He wasn’t brave. He did what he had to do to survive, and that could sometimes be mistaken for bravery, but rarely ever was. He felt fear and despair and desperation. He liked being alive and he sought glory. She knew all this from observing him, like she observed everyone else around her. She did not hate him for his part in Dumbledore’s death. She did not blame him because she had been kidnapped and held hostage in his home.
She pitied him, and she felt closer to him than to anyone else left in the school. They were outcasts - he for a legitimate reason, she because people wanted someone to blame.
“Do they pour ink in your open bag when you are not looking?” he asked as angry tears ran down his cheeks, his teeth clenched in fury. “Do they deliberately sabotage your potions? Do they Vanish your homework just as you are about to turn it in? Do they hex you in the corridors to make you late for classes? Do they steal your belongings and hide them around the castle?”
With those observant eyes of hers, Luna saw blood in his palms from his fingernails digging into his skin as he clenched his fists. She saw his body shaking from head to toe, with suppressed sobs, or rage, or fear, she didn’t really know. His fine, blond hair, she noted, had fallen out of order around his face, locks of it covering his eyes, while the wind did nothing but make him look more crazed.
He looked like the loony one, she thought.
She threw the rock she had been holding into the lake with all her strength, as far as it would go. The ripples it created were larger than the ones previously, but this time she thought she had deciphered their message.
“Yes,” she answered simply, and her hand slid from his wrist to his palm and clasped it tightly, their fingers interlocking. He tried to resist, tried to pull away, but she held on as if his life depended on it.
Even though they had won, even though evil had been conquered, the war had changed everyone. The world couldn’t go back to the way it was before Voldemort’s demise, because people would always remember those years tyrannized by fear, even after the reason for fear had gone. People just dealt with it in different ways. Some found the need to bully others to forget the people and innocence they had lost. Some disappeared to tropical islands to escape what had happened. Some took walks to clear their minds, or snapped photographs to commemorate peace, or locked themselves in broom closets to hide from their fear. Some people withdrew into themselves, unwilling and unable to trust ever again.
Luna didn’t want to lose trust in people, or to suffer by herself. She felt it was up to her to meet Draco at the edge, to bear his pain with him, and then to bring him back. To show him that he was not alone, and that not everyone hid their fears by blaming him.
Her thumb rubbed against his hand gently as he stared at the ground, crying without shame, though she knew that he was ashamed, but hid it under another mask, his mask of pain. His hand tightened around hers briefly, and she took it as a sign, as a signal.
“You won’t be alone if you are with me,” she said in her soft, dreamy voice. That is what the ripples on the lake had told her to say, what they had been trying to tell her.
“I don’t want to be with you,” he said, forcing the words out around his sobs.
But Luna knew he meant, “I don’t want to be alone.” That was why he had gone to the lake, in search of another forsaken body to understand his pain. That was why she had been at the lake, to wait for such a person to appear.
The world had a plan for them, even when they had no plan for themselves.
“Let’s try being alone together, okay?” she asked, watching him as he dried the tears on his face with his other hand, the one she didn’t hold.
“Okay,” he agreed quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. His mask disappeared for a moment as his gray eyes met hers, and though some people wouldn’t have noticed, she saw the hint of a smile on his lips. It looked like hope.
Sometimes, she just noticed things.
Background: So a few days ago (or a week, or two weeks, I have absolutely no sense of time anymore), while I was trying to write some of Camping, I started wondering if Draco could ever fall in love with Luna and how he would do it. I scoured (skimmed, more like) the internet for Draco/Luna fic that could possibly satisfy my curiosity. Finding none - granted, I really didn't look very hard, and when I did find stuff, I wasn't really that interested in reading it - I took it upon my self to write a short fic that would answer all my questions and satisfy this strange curiosity of mine.
I didn't quite do that, but I learned two things.
One: Introvertive!Luna is kind of hard to write. Sure, it's Luna, and she came out of my head easily enough, but I have no idea if she's Luna-y enough, but seeing as how the story I wrote takes place very soon after the end of DH (minus the epilogue, of course), her lack of eccentricity may be justified.
And two: Draco should be with Ginny. :) You can take this fic and say it's pre-pre-Draco/Ginny if you like. Or you can say it's Draco/Luna. Whatever floats your boat. It could go either way.
Will I ever try Draco/Luna again? Who knows, but Draco/Ginny is my OTP. :D
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Title: Noticing
Rating: G
Word Count: 2222 (cool!)
Notes: Thanks to lyndsiefenele for looking over this for me!
Summary: She didn’t mind him calling her loony because he didn’t say it to hurt her. He was stating his opinion, in such a matter-of-fact way that she could almost believe it was true.
Luna crouched next to the lake, her chin on her knees as one arm clutched her legs, swirling a leaf in the water slowly. She studied the ripples that she created, seeking hidden meaning in their altitude and frequency, and, finding none, wondered what she had done to make people dislike her so.
The wind blew against her body and she fought to remain balanced. It pushed the leaf farther out into the lake where she couldn’t reach it. Above her, the sun shone with the intensity of an army of Heliopaths, so brightly that it hurt to keep her eyes open. She wrapped her other arm around her legs and closed her eyes.
Luna had returned to Hogwarts after the battle to complete her unfinished sixth year. It was mandatory for her. She, unlike some war heroes, were still expected to finish school. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone off to some island in the Caribbean to rest and to be together, but as soon as they returned, they’d be able to start their lives. Everyone in the wizarding world wanted to offer them a job.
Luna, Neville, Ginny, and loads others were at Hogwarts. It had taken all summer long to repair the castle, but by September first, it stood ready to be filled with students. Today was an uncharacteristically warm day in November, and most people were taking advantage of the good weather to study outside or lie in the sun.
Luna’s reason for being outside was not as carefree. She was escaping the confines of the castle walls, which had suddenly, and sillily, felt smaller since she had passed through the large oak doors in September. Something about being held prisoner in the Malfoy dungeons for months had ingrained in her a fear of enclosed spaces. Even though, rationally, she knew Hogwarts was not a dungeon, the sight of the stone corridors, wooden doors, and flickering sconces made her breath catch in her throat and her heart pound with panic. It did not help that there were dungeons, or that she had Potions class in them three times a week.
She preferred the outdoors. She loved the feel of the sun against her skin, her hair being blown around her face, the breeze cooling her from the heat. She loved the colors of the trees as autumn took its toll on nature. The oranges and browns of the leaves clashing with the green of the grass or floating on the surface of the lake.
However, outside had not offered her the solace she had sought. She heard the whispers of the other students and didn’t understand why they thought that she couldn’t, just because she was different from them.
“Watch out, Luna! The nargles will get you!” a girl cried as she left the lake and headed back to the castle. Luna didn’t lift her head to see who it was, nor did she acknowledge that anyone had spoken.
A loud whisper, then, from the girl’s male companion, carried to Luna’s ears by the wind: “You know why everyone calls her Luna, right? Because it’s short for her given name, Lunatic.”
“Lunatic Lovegood!”
Luna only knew when they had left because the sounds of their collective cackles grew fainter. She hugged her knees tighter, waiting, just waiting. Maybe someone else would appear and she’d hear their giggles and the gossipy mutters that they did not try to conceal from her.
Her black robe suddenly felt hot and oppressive. Luna stood and pulled it up over her head, tossing the unwanted garment carelessly onto the ground next to her. The sun continued to blaze and she knew she shouldn’t have dressed as warmly as she had. Her rainbow-striped, knee-high socks made her calves itchy. She began to sweat inside her lavender jumper. At least her light, flowy skirt kept her cool.
Luna heard the sound of someone approaching, the person’s feet stepping on dried up leaves and announcing his or her presence.
She didn’t get angry often, but this time she snapped. She had fought with Harry Potter at the Battle of Hogwarts. Didn’t she deserve as much respect as him? Or if not him, his other friends? Wasn’t she Harry’s friend too?
Luna grabbed her wand from behind her ear and spun around, crying, “I’m not loony!”
Draco Malfoy stopped in his tracks, staring at her through startled gray eyes. He had come back to Hogwarts with the rest of them. The world was not ready for another Malfoy to enter the workforce, and possibly blackmail every person in it to get the things he wanted. He bided his time at Hogwarts, starting his seventh year over again, like so many others.
After a pause, he pooled his expression into one of indifference, the corner of his lip turning up slightly in amusement. He came to stand next to her, staring out at the lake as light waves lapped against the shore and the sun beamed down on it like a blessing, or a miracle.
Luna could read people very well; she had always been able to. The mask on Draco’s face was only that: a mask, and one not crafted well, at that. She saw the crack in his façade, in his eyes. Though he appeared carefree, or maybe just curious, Luna could see a very slight wrinkle in his eyebrows as they knit together. It was such a subtle thing that she doubted anyone else would have noticed.
His hands were balled into fists in the pockets of his gray trousers. His whole body was still and tense; she almost felt the wind would knock him down if it blew just hard enough.
He looked at her with empty eyes, gray, cold, and light.
“I didn’t come here to call you names,” he said, “even though I do think you are a bit loony.”
Luna’s body relaxed and she replaced her wand back behind her ear, turning around to stare out into the lake as well. She didn’t mind him calling her loony because he didn’t say it to hurt her. He was stating his opinion, in such a matter-of-fact way that she could almost believe it was true.
“You don’t like the castle either,” she replied bluntly.
He stared at her in surprise, his mask slipping.
“No, I don’t,” he answered honestly, watching her as she began to rock back and forth between the balls of her feet and her heels, her hands clasped together behind her back.
“You don’t like the whispers,” she continued.
“How do you know?” he asked quietly.
“I notice things.”
His mask transformed once again, his lip curling into a sneer. “Keeping tabs on me?”
Luna picked up a rock at her feet and threw it into the lake, watching the ripples grow, looking for that hidden meaning again.
“No. I just notice things.”
“Like what?” he asked mockingly, clearly not believing her.
She picked up another rock as she thought about it.
“Like how Dennis Creevey carries Colin’s camera around his neck and takes pictures with it when he thinks no one is looking because he doesn‘t want anyone to see him saving memories for his brother. And how the Patil twins no longer talk to anyone other than each other. And how Ginny Weasley takes a walk around the edge of the Forbidden Forest every night after dinner, almost hoping something will come out and snatch her up. And how Dean Thomas hides in broom closets because he only feels safe in enclosed spaces ever since he was captured on the run and kept prisoner in your dungeons.”
Luna, with her wide, bright blue eyes, turned to face Draco Malfoy, who stared at her incredulously and with a bit of fear. She could see that too.
“And how Draco Malfoy does not trust a single person in the school because they whisper things about him behind his back, even though they know he can hear them. They do that to me too.”
“I didn’t even want to be here!” he cried savagely, his icy eyes defrosting and filling with tears.
“But your mum made you come back,” Luna whispered. “Or your father.”
Luna reached for his wrist, but he jerked away from her. With lightning speed that Draco did not expect, she snatched at his wrist again, this time catching it, and she held it, not letting him turn away to leave.
What did Luna Lovegood know about Draco Malfoy? Not much beyond what she had heard, what she had seen, and what she had noticed. He was a perfect example of a Slytherin, only interested in saving himself. He wasn’t brave. He did what he had to do to survive, and that could sometimes be mistaken for bravery, but rarely ever was. He felt fear and despair and desperation. He liked being alive and he sought glory. She knew all this from observing him, like she observed everyone else around her. She did not hate him for his part in Dumbledore’s death. She did not blame him because she had been kidnapped and held hostage in his home.
She pitied him, and she felt closer to him than to anyone else left in the school. They were outcasts - he for a legitimate reason, she because people wanted someone to blame.
“Do they pour ink in your open bag when you are not looking?” he asked as angry tears ran down his cheeks, his teeth clenched in fury. “Do they deliberately sabotage your potions? Do they Vanish your homework just as you are about to turn it in? Do they hex you in the corridors to make you late for classes? Do they steal your belongings and hide them around the castle?”
With those observant eyes of hers, Luna saw blood in his palms from his fingernails digging into his skin as he clenched his fists. She saw his body shaking from head to toe, with suppressed sobs, or rage, or fear, she didn’t really know. His fine, blond hair, she noted, had fallen out of order around his face, locks of it covering his eyes, while the wind did nothing but make him look more crazed.
He looked like the loony one, she thought.
She threw the rock she had been holding into the lake with all her strength, as far as it would go. The ripples it created were larger than the ones previously, but this time she thought she had deciphered their message.
“Yes,” she answered simply, and her hand slid from his wrist to his palm and clasped it tightly, their fingers interlocking. He tried to resist, tried to pull away, but she held on as if his life depended on it.
Even though they had won, even though evil had been conquered, the war had changed everyone. The world couldn’t go back to the way it was before Voldemort’s demise, because people would always remember those years tyrannized by fear, even after the reason for fear had gone. People just dealt with it in different ways. Some found the need to bully others to forget the people and innocence they had lost. Some disappeared to tropical islands to escape what had happened. Some took walks to clear their minds, or snapped photographs to commemorate peace, or locked themselves in broom closets to hide from their fear. Some people withdrew into themselves, unwilling and unable to trust ever again.
Luna didn’t want to lose trust in people, or to suffer by herself. She felt it was up to her to meet Draco at the edge, to bear his pain with him, and then to bring him back. To show him that he was not alone, and that not everyone hid their fears by blaming him.
Her thumb rubbed against his hand gently as he stared at the ground, crying without shame, though she knew that he was ashamed, but hid it under another mask, his mask of pain. His hand tightened around hers briefly, and she took it as a sign, as a signal.
“You won’t be alone if you are with me,” she said in her soft, dreamy voice. That is what the ripples on the lake had told her to say, what they had been trying to tell her.
“I don’t want to be with you,” he said, forcing the words out around his sobs.
But Luna knew he meant, “I don’t want to be alone.” That was why he had gone to the lake, in search of another forsaken body to understand his pain. That was why she had been at the lake, to wait for such a person to appear.
The world had a plan for them, even when they had no plan for themselves.
“Let’s try being alone together, okay?” she asked, watching him as he dried the tears on his face with his other hand, the one she didn’t hold.
“Okay,” he agreed quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. His mask disappeared for a moment as his gray eyes met hers, and though some people wouldn’t have noticed, she saw the hint of a smile on his lips. It looked like hope.
Sometimes, she just noticed things.