Author: sshg316 PM
A collection of DM/LL drabbles and ficlets written for the DM/LL Last Drabble Writer Standing community on LiveJournal.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Draco M. & Luna L. - Chapters: 5 - Words: 1,948 - Reviews: 23 - Favs: 14 - Follows: 7 - Published: 09-16-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6328572
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: JKR owns all recognizable characters and settings. No copyright infringement is intended.
Title: La belle dame sans merci
Word Count: 300
Prompt: Dark!Draco (i.e. he's a DE)
Comments: War does interesting things to people. (I went a little dark on both sides here...)
La belle dame sans merci
Luna appeared in the isolated clearing with a gentle pop. She was a tad put out with her friends for having teased her. Honestly, she no idea why the Death Eaters insisted on referring to her with such a ridiculous term. It wasn't at all fitting. Well, she was a woman, but other than that...
La belle dame sans merci. Lunacy.
She grinned at her unintended pun, then entered the prison tent. "Hullo, Draco Malfoy," she greeted the bound wizard pleasantly. His usual arrogance had been replaced with thinly veiled uncertainty. She supposed she couldn't blame him; it had taken her hours to help clean up the mess he'd made at Grimmauld Place.
"You know, you really ought to have been more careful. You could have killed someone."
Draco eyed her warily. "That was the intention."
"I know," Luna replied sadly. "You have two choices: Azkaban, or I can set you free."
He looked at her oddly. "Set me free?"
He shook his head, as if trying to make sense of her words. "Erm… set me free."
"All right," Luna agreed happily. "Ready?"
Draco nodded, his relief almost tangible.
She raised her wand. "Avada Kedavra," she said simply, her tone almost wistful. She watched dispassionately as Draco fell limp, his body bathed in the green light of death.
Tutting at the waste of life, Luna prepared the body of her erstwhile schoolmate for transport. She paused when his robes fell open, her eyes lingering on the Dark Mark imprinted upon his chest, black ink forever frozen against porcelain skin. How awful it must have been for him, being at the beck and call of a monster.
And they said she was without mercy.
How could that be? She had set him free.
Death Eaters could be so silly.