My first shot at a Draco/Luna fanfic.
I've had this story locked away for a bit
until I could do something with it,
but I really like where it's going!
Review and follow! (: (:
chapter one: we danced once
It became the highlight of my day, watching her sit there by herself and it took everything I had to not go up to her and tell her just how beautiful I thought her to be. How her intelligence exceeded more than any Ravenclaw I'd ever come across. How her individuality gave me the strength and courage to break free of the barrier in which I had been caged in. How her eyes gave me a sense of comfort and how her hair was as white as snow in the most beautiful sense.
I had been watching her far longer than anyone else had, and I had longed to converse with her before that brute Potter and his gang accidentally found their way to her. To see her sitting next to the person that I hated by reputation, knowing that she saw him as a friend. That she thought him nice.
We danced once; I doubt she remembered. It was before she recognized me as her enemy, as Potter's enemy. Before she truly knew anything about the Malfoy family. It didn't seem she was one to concern herself with any matters such as that, possibly what drove me to her so. She was untainted by the bias and hatred that had come to find me. Draco Malfoy was a name and face that was feared and admired. She knew not the name.
During the Yule Ball, she donned a vintage sky blue dress that frilled outwards towards the bottom. It accented her curves in a very pleasing but conservative way, a way that drove my insides crazy. It still does. She stood outside the Great Hall in the courtyard looking upon the lake all alone. The moonlight shone off of her pale skin revealing every essence of her tranquil beauty. I followed her outside, so curious and desperate to see and comfort her. It was a time where the name Potter was simply of legend, a famous boy who went to her school. She was all mine at this glorious moment.
At first, she didn't notice me as I hid towards the entrance to the Great Hall, examining her from a fair distance. At the start of a new song, she began to dance alone, her hands positioned in front of her with the illusion of dancing with a lover. My mouth gaped open as she floated along the courtyard, her eyes closed and her mouth humming quietly along with the music bricks away from her, separated from every living soul that had come to harm her. I swore…no harm would come to her as long as I knew her, mentally or physically. I would protect her. I would always protect her.
My cowardice lifted and my feet found themselves involuntarily moving towards her. As she had her back to me, my hands nervously lifted and found their place to the back of hers, clutching them like a lifeline. It was the first moment I'd ever experienced any sort of ecstasy with the touch of a woman. The touch neither shocked nor frightened her and she continued dancing as if I had always been there, as if I had never left.
When I twirled her around where we faced each other, her chin tilted up and the edges of her mouth widened in the most delicate smile I'd ever beheld. I remain unsure if she knew who I was at that moment, if she ever figured it out or remembered, but regardless of her opinion of me then or now, I will always treasure that moment. We said not a word to each other as we intertwined our bodies closer together, and continued our tribute to the moonlight. Our bodies meshed beautifully together as if we were meant to do this forever and, for a simple moment, I thought of the future. I thought of a world without evil or deceit. I thought of a world with two little blonde children running around…and my blonde wife kissing me on a balcony in the moonlight.
Once the music stopped, our hands slowly released their hold but our eyes remained entranced in the others. We did not speak. We did not kiss. Oh, I wanted to. I was a coward. What would my family think? My friends? I was selfish and cruel – every bit a Malfoy that Potter had claimed me to be. She sensed my reluctance and her eyes broke the gaze, setting itself down to the ground. With both of our dignity still intact, I half-kneeled and gently grasped her hand, placing a deep and desperate kiss on the back of her palm. Her eyes twinkled with glee and I gave her my first genuine smile; then I did what I did best.
She looked for me often. I only knew that because I was always watching her. Her eyes lifted at the sight of every blond man, then looked down in disappointment at her failure. She knew not my name or my house. It was a best-kept secret and I'd rather her not know, but my curiosity and longing was stronger than my desire to remain anonymous.