Dear Readers,

Hello, after many, many months. To those of you who follow my other story (Not Quite a Fairytale) I am so, so very sorry. For once, my delay in updating was due to a legitimate excuse. My computer died. And I am poor. It was quite a while before I could replace it, and even longer before I could get a word processor onto it. So here I am, with a rather dark one-shot to keep you all going until I can finish the current chapter of my story. This story contains non-con and violence. There is nothing graphically described...It is hard to write a non-con sex scene without it sounding...well, sexy. And this is NOT that kind of non-con. Also, I realize this is a bit of an odd pairing, but the more I wrote it, the more I like them. I may someday write a lengthy fiction with these two.



The first thing Luna was aware of when she woke was the cold. It wasn't the kind of cold that makes you shiver. It was a deeper cold, the kind that saturates your body until you had almost forgotten what it was like to be warm. It was a chill that could only be associated with evil, and darkness, and death. The next thing she was aware of was her position. She was bound to a pole of some sort, her hands bound above her head, her legs tied together. The blood had begun to leave her arms, and there was the sensation of a thousand pins lightly pricking her arms. It wasn't terribly painful, just uncomfortable. The room, for she assumed that she was in some sort of dwelling, was pitch black.

Her mind flashed back to the events that had led to this moment. Harry, Hermione, Neville...Luna could only hope that they had escaped the Ministry building unscathed. The Department of Mysteries, the thousands of shattering prophecies, and then steely arms grasping hers and turning on the spot; she had heard unfamiliar magic words uttered, and everything had gone black.

Luna Lovegood had the reputation of being fairly empty headed. That was entirely unfair. It was simply that most of the time she preferred to keep life light, think about the happier, less realistic parts of the world. If she were entirely honest (and she usually was), it was a coping mechanism. Everyone has them. Some people cope by secluding themselves from others. Some people go into depression. Some people become raging, murderous lunatics. So Luna considered herself fairly well off. Anyone who watches their mother day at the age of nine is bound to have some mental repercussions. But in a crisis, Luna had always been the level headed one, the one with her feet firmly planted on the ground. She'd had to be; after the death of her mother, Xenophilius had gone almost completely nutty. At home, Luna was the practical, realistic one. She made sure their little family was fed and cared for.

That sense of realism had come in handy at the Ministry, and now it consumed her. She held her breath, listening for any sounds that might give her a clue as to where she was. There was nothing but the sound of her own blood pounding in her ears. She let out her breath, and shifted, standing up on her tiptoes to grant some little relief to her arms. The result was a cramp in her right leg. She took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare for what was coming next. The problem was, she had no idea where she was, who had captured her, or what their plans were for her. She did know one thing; Death Eaters are never pleasant people.

Just as she was wondering how long she was be left in the dark, her eyes were flooded with bright light, and she was momentarily blinded. She blinked several times, trying to adjust to the sudden change. She was beginning to make out the shapes of the room around her. In her view she could several dozen chairs, most of them empty. The occupants of the room were mainly standing before her, identical robes, identical masks. They could have been her professors from school for all she could tell. If only things were that simple.

"Ah, she is awake!" A high pitched voice spoke from behind her, sending shivers down her spine. She knew, without even asking, who had spoken. "Two days...I wouldn't have expected a pureblood to be so affected by such a little bit of Dark Magic. How disappointing."

Two days? Luna started at that. Surely she hadn't been out for that long. The voice continued.

"Two days since the Potter boy and his little friends decided to play games at the Ministry. Two days since that idiotic fool of a teenager got lucky once again. But his luck didn't protect all of his friends, did it?"

The room was completely silent. Not a Death Eater in the crowd so much as moved.

"And now we have the chance to make him pay, don't we? One of his own to send back to him in pieces, to show that we are not afraid to play his games. To show him that I will triumph. It's only a shame she's a pureblood. It seems such a waste to spill the very blood that we fight for. What do you say, men?"

It seemed that Voldermort's servants understood him well enough to know that he had no desire to be answered. He would do what he wished to do, what he had planned all along, without any input from any of them.

"Perhaps she should live, after all. When we have won the war, she will be a nice breeding mare for one of you. She will help repopulate the wizarding world with pureblooded children."

Luna had almost stopped breathing. She was petrified. What would he say next? What would he do to her?

"Yes, that is a much better plan. We will send her back to Hogwarts, and let Potter deal with the knowledge that one of his friends was raped and beaten because of him. What a delightful plan."

Luna unconsciously let out a little sob at the word "raped." It was her worst nightmare.

"But who shall have her? Who will get the joy of having their way with her before they drop her outside the school gates?"

There was another long, pregnant silence, the only sound was Luna's breathing, now coming in rapid sobs.

"Why don't we let the little lady choose her suitor?" Luna could hear the disgusting voice behind her practically wheezing with glee. "Let us see if she can pick a gentleman out of the masks. No one move, or speak. Lady's choice."

For a long, long moment, Luna didn't truly register what had been said. What was she supposed to do? Did he actually want her to pick which masked body fulfilled her nightmares?

There was an angry hiss at her silence. "Choose, girl, or I will give you to them all, one by one, and there will be nothing left of you by the end."

Luna was struck with the strange and inappropriate desire to laugh. The man, if that is what he was, was insane. He truly wanted to watch as she chose her torturer, knowing all the while that it was no choice at all. She had no way of knowing who was the behind the mask.

Her eyes began to scan the room frantically, searching for something, anything to give her a hint . It was as though her panic intensified all of her senses. Suddenly everything was crystal clear, colors more vibrant, sounds more distinct. She caught a twitch of movement out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes came to rest on the mask of a Death Eater to her left. The eyes behind the mask were dark, almost black. Her eyes went to his hands. They were sallow, calloused, and stained with...potions? A chill went up her spine. Even if her assumption were incorrect, she was not willing to risk an encounter that would make even Hogwarts an unhappy place for her.

"You are trying my patience, little girl."

Later, when everything was over, Luna was not quite sure where her cool sense of calm and reason came from, but there it was. Her eyes flitted from one hooded figure to the next searching for a sign of familiarity. Why did it matter so much to her, to know the identity of her attacker? It would not change the circumstances, or make the pickings any less evil. After all, her choice would be unveiled soon after she chose anyway. But she needed to know. She needed to have some semblance of control.

Then she saw it. It was so small a detail, so insignificant, so unimportant that she nearly missed it. If he hadn't been standing so close to her, if the light hadn't caught his robes in just the right way, she would never have known. But there it was, on the front of the stark, black robe, a single hair. It was long, as long as her own. But it was lighter than her hair, blonder. White blonde.

"Him." the word was out of her mouth before she had even put a name to the figure. It came out weaker than she intended, choked.

"You'll have to be more specific, dear." She was glad she couldn't see the face of the monster behind her, or she may have lost her nerve completely.

"That one, to the left." She nodded her head as pointedly as she could, since her hands were still bound.

"Step forward."

The figure next to her choice moved toward her, and she shook her head.

"No, the other."

As the correct man stepped forward, Luna could hear a raspy chuckle from behind her. "Very well then. I'm certain you will come to regret your choice, although that was inevitable."

Luna closed her eyes briefly, knowing that what was done was done. At least she knew. At least she knew. She repeated that to herself over and over as the voice continued.

"Take her to your Manor. You have until sunrise to drop her outside the gates of the school. Be certain she has full memory of everything. I expect an entertaining show when I sift through your memories in the pensieve. You are dismissed."

The masked man nodded to his master, pulled a knife from his boot. Without a word, he cut bonds that held Luna's wrists and ankles. Her numbed legs would not hold her, and she collapsed in a heap at her feet. He reached down, grabbed a handful of her ratted hair, and turned on the spot.

It was only the second time she had ever apparated, (the first had been her actual capture), and she found that apparating while being dragged by the hair was incredible painful. Her scalp was on fire by the time he released her, or rather, threw her to the marble floor of the room they had apparated to.

For a moment she could focus on nothing other than the pain in her hip from the fall, and the burning of her scalp. When she could breathe regularly again, she tentatively looked up from under the curtain of blonde hair that hid her face.

He was still masked and hooded, but she could see his eyes watching her. She couldn't look away. Then he spoke.

"You know who I am, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Answer me when I speak to you." His voice was harsh.

"Yes-yes I know." She had meant to sound stronger than that, but her voice shook as she spoke.

"Who am I?"

For a moment she simply stared back into his cold, grey eyes. "You are Lucius Malfoy."

There was a long silence. He did not speak, or move. Luna began to wonder if she had guessed incorrectly. Who was it then? But her doubt was short lived. He pushed back the hood of his cloak, and she could see the long, silver hair, tied back at the nape of his neck. When he removed his mask, she looked away. Somehow she had felt a little braver when the mask had been between it had protected her from the inevitable. Now there was no barrier between them.

His handsome, cold face focused on hers for a moment, before he turned away. She watched him from the floor, as he unstopped a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass. "You can relax. I'm not going touch you yet." His words did nothing to soothe her fears.

He downed the contents of his glass in several fast gulps, and poured another. Then he turned back to her and barked, "Get up." She obeyed a little shakily—her legs were still unstable.

"Sit." he gestured to a chair in the corner of the room, and for the first time, Luna became truly aware of her surroundings. They were in one of the most elegantly rooms she had ever been in. There was a huge four-poster bed, hung with deep green velvet curtains. The marble floor had probably cost more than her father made in an entire year. Magically lit tapers bathed the room in a soft glow, much too beautiful and soft for the present circumstances. She sank gratefully into the chair, thankful to be off her feet again She felt, rather than saw, Lucius crouch down in front of her. He pushed her hair from her face, and his hand grasped her chin hard, forcing her head up.

"Look at me." Luna raised her eyes to his, but she could read nothing in them.

"How did you know? You knew who I was before you chose me—I saw the recognition in your eyes. How?" His voice was low, quiet, and intimidating

"You—your—there was a hair, on your cloak. I—I recognized it as one of yours.."

"Clever girl." The tone was complimentary, almost soothing, and it frightened Luna even further. "And you chose me because you like me?" The question dripped with sarcasm. "Answer me!"

Luna felt herself calm a little at the anger in his voice. This was familiar. Anger was what she expected from a Malfoy. "No, sir. I picked you because a bad choice is better than no choice at all."

He let out a short, cold laugh as he stood. "So I was chosen because I was the only one you recognized. How flattering." He stopped short when he caught the look on Luna's face. "No? You recognized another? Who? Who could possibly be a worse alternative to me?" He sounded amused, his tone was light, but Luna could still feel the anger.

"I-I'm not certain of who it was."

"But you think you know."

Luna nodded, thinking how very odd this conversation was. Why was he still talking to her? Why didn't he simply take what he had been commanded to take by his master? Every question he asked set her further on edge, intensified the suspense of what she knew would eventually happen.

"I want a name." There was no room for argument in his voice.

"Pro-Professor Snape" She mentally cursed the audible trembling in her voice.

Lucius smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Couldn't stand the thought of the rest of the year with a man who had raped you?"

Luna winced, and he caught it. "Don't like that word?" He paused to finish off his drink, and then leveled his eyes with hers. "I am not a kind man, Miss Lovegood. I may even be what you would describe as evil. But I am not a pedophile, not even with a mudblood. And you are a pureblood..."

For a moment, Luna felt a tiny ray of hope seep into her mind, but it was extinguished the next moment when he continued.

"But I was given the privilege of taking you home with me tonight, and the Dark Lord made it perfectly clear what he expects of me. If I deny him the show he anticipates I risk my own life." He finished his second drink and crossed the room to pour another.

"That's a rather selfish way of thinking." The words were out of Luna's mouth before she could stop them, and she froze in fear of how he might react. Lucius smirked, but somehow his eyes lacked the usual frigid anger that Luna was accustomed to. Behind the sarcasm, she thought she could detect just a hint of sadness. "If there is one thing I know, Miss Lovegood, it is that I am a selfish man. How else do you think I've survived this long?"

There was silence as he crossed the room, and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her. "You want to ask me a question, I can see it in your face. Speak."

"You said-you said that Volder-"

"Don't speak his name!" Malfoy's voice was raspy and angry.

Luna nodded quickly, afraid she had upset him. Using Voldermort's name had become second nature to her since her friendship with Harry and Ginny had developed. "The Dark Lord, then. You said that he—that he expected a show." She swallowed heavily. "Does that mean—I mean to say, will he actually..." She broke off, too horrified by the implications of such a thought to continue.

Lucius, however, seemed quite calm. "Indeed he will. He nearly always examines our memories in a pensive after an occasion like this...if, that is, he doesn't simply watch in person." He smirked when Luna paled considerably. "Oh yes, you are lucky he did not command the deed to be done right there and then."

"But won't he—I mean, can't he see that you are talking to me like this?" Luna wasn't certain which surprised her more: her actual curiosity about all of this, or her seemingly endless ability to compartmentalize enough to have a civil conversation with her soon-to-be attacker.

Lucius shook his head. "One of the Dark Lord's only weaknesses in magic lies in occlumency. He cannot read minds very well, so he uses a pensieve. I can simply omit the parts of the night I don't wish him to see." He anticipated her next question. "And before you ask, no, I cannot alter the actual events. I am proficient at hiding memories, but altering them flawlessly enough that he would not suspect is a different story. Severus is one of the wizards alive skilled enough to accomplish that."

Lucius flicked his wand casually, and the bottle of whiskey poured another tumbler of its own accord. The glass floated over to Luna and hovered before her. "Drink." He commanded.

Luna had never tasted whiskey before, but she didn't like the look of it. "No thank you." she said quietly.

Lucius stood and emptied the contents of his third glassful in one gulp. "It is your choice. But it will numb some of your sensations tonight."

Luna weighed her options and decided that any kindness he was willing to give she would be a fool to turn down. She downed the whiskey as fast as she could without choking, and ended up sputtering and coughing for several minutes. When she recovered, she saw that her glass had been refilled. She drank this one too, but knowing now what to expect, went a little slower and managed to avoid a repeat coughing fit. She could feel the alcohol warm her, and her head felt light and fuzzy.

Lucius for her to move to the bed, and her stomach dropped. For several minutes she had felt almost safe, as if the conversation would last forever, and she would never have to endure the hell she had feared. But now the nightmare was back, and about to take a turn for the worse. She moved to the bed and lay down awkwardly, unsure of what he wanted her to do.

Lucius flicked his wand again, and she felt manacles attach to her wrists and ankles, and pull tight until she was spread eagle on the bed. Lucius sat next to her and pushed her hair from her face, catching a stray tear that had fallen from her eye. Luna closed her eyes so she didn't have to look at him, and he let her. "Are you a virgin?" She nodded almost imperceptibly. Her eyes were still close, so she didn't notice when he closed his eyes briefly, and clenched his jaw. "This is going to be painful. It will be rough. It will be hell on earth for someone as young and innocent as you are. And if you fight me, it will be worse."

He stood up and let his hooded cloak fall to the floor. He never took his eyes off of her as he began to unbutton his shirt. "You should have chosen Severus, Miss Lovegood." Luna shook her head silently, her eyes still clenched shut. This could not be real. It was a nightmare. She would wake up soon.

Lucius summoned a leather flogger from another room and wrapped it broodingly around his hand. He shook his head, closed his eyes, and cleared his mind. "You should have picked anyone but me, Luna. And by morning, you will have realized that."


The eastern sky was only just beginning to lighten from black to tinges of grey when a hooded and masked figure appeared outside of the Hogwarts gates. He held a tiny figure in his arms, wrapped in a thick blanket. Her lips were swollen and bruised. Her back and breasts were covered in dozens of stripes and angry red welts, evidence of a brutal flogging. Her thighs were covered in blood and semen. Her neck and throat bore his fingerprints from when he had mercifully choked her into unconsciousness halfway through the ordeal, to put her out of her misery.

Even the thick blanket could not keep her frail body from shivering in the morning cold, although cold had little to do with her shaking. Lucius lay her down on the dewy grass as gently as possible. Her eyes were closed, and he thought she had passed out again. He brushed back a strand of blonde hair from her lip to look at her face. Even now, after all he had done to her, she looked so innocent, so young. He would kill any man who did to Draco what he had done to Luna.

"There are few things in my life I regret." he spoke quietly to the unconscious girl, confident she could not hear him. "Regret is a sign of weakness. I do what I must to survive. But if you ever come looking for revenge, if you ever find that you need to dole out justice to the man who destroyed you, you should know that I will not stand in your way."

Without another word, he took Luna's want from his pocket and sent up a fountain of red sparks that hung in the air over her body. Then he dropped it next to her, and disapparated.

When he left, Luna opened her eyes weakly, and groaned in pain. She heard shouts and footsteps coming nearer.

"Luna! Oh gods, someone get Madame Pomfrey! Luna, what happened?" Hermione's voice sounded panicked and shrill.

Luna didn't answer, her world was slowly starting to fade out. She faintly registered Harry's voice, and she could see a red-headed figure covering her with someone's cloak. Ginny. When Madame Pomfrey moved her magically onto a stretcher, she knew she was safe. She felt the slight prick of a needle in her arm.

"You didn't destroy me." she whispered, before she fell gratefully into a drug-induced sleep.


So? Comments? Please, please, please review. This was my first one-shot, so I'd love feedback. Hope you enjoyed it!