All Luna could ever think when she looked at him was how recessive he was. Not that she was a collection of dominant genes herself, but Draco always looked as if he had been drained of almost all color. Even in the aftermath of battle, he shone like a star. Pale. Pale. Pale. His eyes didn't even have enough colour to be blue. His hair was more white than blond.

Of course, right now he was also covered in blood and ash.

"What are you staring at?" he snapped, jerking her out of her reverie about colour and fate and how we become what's down deep in our blood whether we want to or not. He certainly had and hadn't wanted to. The Mark on his arm proved he was his father's son. The lost look on his eyes confirmed he was floating on a sea of someone else's making.

"You," Luna said because it was true. She was staring at him, which was rude, and she ought to feel awkward and bad she'd gotten caught, but she didn't. "Hair doesn't want to be blond," she said. "You have to tell it twice, but if you do, it will listen."

"Are you okay?" he asked. It wasn't an unreasonable question given the circumstances. She was rather touched he asked, though. Most people just dismissed her as too crazy to bother with. That made her try to give him a gift.

"You can tell your heart love twice too," she said. "Hatred wants to win, but you can force it down. Be the unobvious thing that wells up from the deep. Be the unexpected. You are in every other way. You can be in this one too."

"Yeah," he said. "Okay, you must have gotten hit on the head or something." He looked around, presumably trying to find a Mediwitch, but in the triage going on around them, she was not important. Draco realized that almost at once, and his mouth twisted in a grimace. "Why don't you just come sit with me out of the way, see if you feel better in a bit."

"That would be nice," Luna said. She slipped her hand in his. "You are more than you know."

"From the depths," he said. The words were half a sneer, but only half. The other half was worry for her and maybe a little bit of hope for himself.

She squeezed his hand. He didn't understand yet, but he would. "Exactly," she said.