This story 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 and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Authors Note:

Written for my friend Bellatrix Black, because I said I would write a Luna/Draco.

This Life

By Lady Coia

When we are children the simplest things amaze us. A butterfly with violet wings can amuse us, while we try to catch it. And if we do happen to catch that butterfly, we are usually careful not to hurt it.

Is it really so much different now? Was that butterfly not the dream of that moment? Now our dreams have just moved onto bigger things. Catching a butterfly cannot satisfy our wants anymore. There are some gaping holes that may never be filled. What can fill them we may never know. And as we grow older, those holes do also. Because your want for whatever can fill it remains, and grows stronger as time goes on...

Many of my best memories are from the past, as most are. After all, they can't very well be from the future, can they? But I mean that most come from my childhood. Then, everything was simple. The rules and what happens in daily life did not affect us as much as they do now.  Then, they were odd things that our parents would take care of, and we were protected from them. Now we are supposedly odd enough to deal with it all, and our left basically left alone to come to terms with this new world.

What happens when a person tries to hold onto the innocence of childhood? What happens when they decide that this world is too complicated for them, and that they need to be sheltered still, so they create their own world?

I am afraid I found that out without meaning to. I slipped into my own world, where everything was simple. Yet it wasn't really. There was evil, but it was of a different sort. The evil was the actual world that would seep through my protective walls. Being able to see the Threstrals were one of them. I tried so hard to believe that I had never seen anyone die, but they were living reminders of the fact I tried so hard to hide from.

When you do not expect it, and someone close to you dies suddenly, it is hard to come to terms with it all. When things are suddenly shoved into your face, and your shield of childhood suddenly breaks in one swift movement, it is hard to live with it all. So I slipped into this new world… one of my creations, where everything that was odd became true, and whatever somebody said affected me in no way. I became the odd Luna Lovegood, and moved away from that sweet, quiet child that everyone simply knew as Luna Lovegood. Two totally different people made from the same person.

Don't come to the wrong conclusion, though. I still live in that world, in a way. Except the real world has begun to seep through more and more as time goes on. I'm older now: 16, in fact. And darkness has fallen across our world, and no matter who you are you cannot escape it. It is impossible. People die, and people cry. People have become new people. Everyone has changed. So I suppose in a way, I am now the third person coming from one body.

But I have really noticed the biggest change in one person. That one person happens to be Draco Malfoy. The cold, stuck up, rich Draco Malfoy, whose father is a Deatheater, and could live in the lap of luxury if he chose to. Everything could, and probably was, be served to him on a silver platter with engravings along the side. Except he pushed it all aside for what he felt was right.

No, he did not betray his roots completely. He just did what he knew was best, and what every person on the Dark side felt. They all know that their time is ending. Everyone can feel it. It may not have raised the spirits of the Light side much, but the Dark Side can feel that they are failing. Slowly their group is falling apart, torn by what they believe is right within their one right that unites them.

They are too afraid to leave, though, but Draco Malfoy was not yet there. No, he had not yet been initiated, as I have heard they do. So he told Dumbledore of anything Lucius Malfoy wanted Draco to do, but still carried on with Lucius's plans, so he did not lose trust. Everything was subtle, and no one knew except Draco Malfoy and Dumbledore themselves.

Until I found out.

I didn't mean to, really. I just put the pieces together until it made sense. See, many underestimate me. They believe that I am not smart. My marks are average, yes, but you do not have to get good marks in order to be intelligent. There was a reason I was sorted into Ravenclaw, and it rarely shows through, but it is there.

As soon as I confronted him about it, I had a suspicion of what was going to happen. And I was correct. From his amazement that I had found out grew a new respect, in a way. I do not know how to phrase much of my experience, but I will say that it was wonderful. Sneaking out at night to meet him, and sleeping in the next morning. Light kisses on the forehead, cheek and holding hands. Laying in bed staring at my canopy during nights when I did not see him, simply thinking of the things that made him him.

The sneaking around, the telling my deepest secrets such as the experience of my Mother dying and other little things brought out a whole new person in me. I slowly became once again that quiet girl that people knew me as before my mother died. Of course, you can never let go of yourself completely, especially after living one way for years. Odd things often emerged, such as my fascination for things that could not be explained by books, and were yet to be proven as real.

The little things that were once simple are still simple, and yet I live life as people expect me to in my own way, and face the darkness that is taking over many of our hearts. For I am Luna Lovegood, and whether I be with snogging Harry Potter in Hagrid's pumpkin patch, as the odd rumors say, or be with Draco Malfoy, I am still her.

And I will face this life head one, and possibly get knocked out along the way. Because who knows what will be thrown at me, but at least I will be remembered for being me.