So this is a little random oneshot I wrote. I thought of it because my leg hurt really bad the other day, and I felt old (even though I'm only nineteen), and for some reason, I thought of Draco Malfoy (probably because I'm always thinking of Draco Malfoy) and decided to write about the odd little scene that popped into my head. Enjoy!

Also: I do not own Harry Potter. Trust me, if I did, Severus, Fred, Remus and Tonks would've lived; Draco would've realized that he's stupid and fought for the good side, Draluna would be canon and there would be future novellas. And the names "Hugo" and "Albus" would never have even been a thought in my mind (at least, not as a first name, in Albus' case)…

Sorry; got sidetracked. Read on, dudes.


"Come on, Dad, sit down."

"Ah! Merlin, that hurts!"

"Mum! Dad needs medical attention!"

"No I don't! I'm fine!"

Luna exited the kitchen, stepping into the living room. Her poor, dear husband, Draco, was seated on the sofa, his left leg propped up on one cushy of the foot rest. Their son, DJ, stood over him, and their oldest daughter, Artemis, sat next to him. "What happened?" Luna asked, worried.

"Dad hurt his knee," said DJ (nearly the spitting image of Draco at that age, which was sixteen).

"I pulled something," Draco said, his face screwed up in pain. "Or tore something; or something fell out, a ligament; I don't know."

"How?" Luna went to her husband's side. She gently touched his knee, but pulled back when he winced in pain.

"He was racing DJ," said Artemis.

"What?"

"Oh, you know Dad," Artemis rolled her eyes and adjusted the cuffs of her shirt as she stood. "Always trying to show off how young he still thinks he is."

Draco scoffed at her. "I am still young!"

"It's okay, Daddy," Artemis smiled her snarky fifteen-year-old-girl smile and ruffled her father's hair. "We still love you, even if you are old and senile."

"I'm thirty-seven! I'm still younger than dirt!"

"Thirty-seven is the new eighty, Dad."

"Is not!"

"And the fact that you don't know that only shows how old you are."

"I'm not old!"

"Whatever you say, Daddy…"

Luna scowled at her daughter. "Artie, go back outside with your brothers and sisters; you're distressing your father." The young girl rolled her eyes again and headed out the front door. "You too," Luna added, looking at DJ.

"I didn't even say anything!" he argued.

"Out."

He frowned and shoved his hands in his pocket. "Whatever," he muttered, kicking the doorframe as he left the house. Luna turned back to her husband, waving her wand over his knee with a simple (and quite mediocre) healing charm. "I'm really not all that great at healing spells… perhaps we should go to St. Mungo's?"

"No," Draco said shortly. "I'll be fine…"

"Oh, my poor Darling…" Luna put a hand to his cheek, but he pulled away, twisting so his back was to her.

"Don't look at me," he mumbled. His wife frowned.

"Why ever not?"

"... Because I'm old..." he answered in a very melancholy tone. Luna tried not to giggle, but couldn't suppress the fit escaping her mouth. Draco turned back to her, his specialty Malfoy scowl planted upon his (still quite young-looking) face.

"Are you laughing at me, woman?" he spat. His tone did nothing to stop Luna's laughter.

"Darling, you're not old! Like you said, you're only thirty-seven. Only a year older than me; and I'm not old yet."

"You're right; I am only a year older than you, aren't I?" Draco mused. Luna thought he got it and would be fine, until he put a gentle hand on her shoulder and continued, dramatically, "Enjoy your youth while you can, Love. Next year, it's all over."

Luna scoffed and slapped his shoulder, making him flinch. "Stop that now. Neither of us is old. Daddy always said that you're never old until you feel old. Now, come here."

She smiled and cupped his face in her hands, drawing him toward her. Their lips met in the kind of kiss only true lovers can share; one of love, trust, passion, and the essence of forever. It would've been a perfect moment, had Draco not pulled away, looking pained.

"It's like kissing Hugh Heffner, isn't it?" he asked, crestfallen.

"Kissing… what?... Kissing you is nothing like… You're nothing like that Muggle… savage! Kissing you is like kissing my wonderful, loving husband." Luna pulled him back to her, but he quickly pulled back again.

"Your husband who's as old as Hugh Heffner!"

"Are you really that worried about being old, Draco?"

"Yes! I'm terrified! I'm afraid of wrinkles, and age spots, and going bald, and using a walker, and not being able to eat steak; you know I love steak; I can't not eat steak, Luna, I'll die!"

"You could still eat steak," Luna giggled. "We'll just have the attendants at the nursing home puree it for you."

"Not. Helping."

"My God, Draco, you're acting like a woman!"

"Like a woman, she says! So now I'm an old transvestite, am I?"

Luna sighed and stood. "Get up," she said. Draco obeyed and stood with her, and welcomed her arms as they slid around his waist.

"You. Are. My. Husband," Luna said, looking him in the eyes. "I love you. I always have and I always will. You're not old yet, but even when you are, it won't matter. You will always be my Love; I will never think any different of you, age spots or none. And I will always think you're the sexiest man in the world. Because it's true, and you know it, you sexy, self-centered git."

That got him to smile. "Yeah… yeah, it's true."

"But," Luna continued, smiling suggestively. "If you really want to feel young… we could lock the children out of the house and try some of those new moves we've been looking at…"

Draco smirked as Luna aimed her wand at the door and a clicking noise was heard, telling him she'd locked the front door. She took his hand an led him to the stairs where he stopped to kiss her.

"I love you, Luna," he whispered against her lips. "so, so much."

"Mmm… I love you too, darling… How's your knee feeling?"

"Lovely; why?"

"Carry me up the stairs?" Luna pleaded, her eyes open in her favorite puppy dog look. Draco just smiled and wrapped one arm around her tiny waist and bent to hook another behind her knees and lift her. It was then that his knee decided to let him know that it was most certainly not feeling lovely, and give out on him, sending both Draco and his wife crashing to a heap on the hard floor, both crying in pain.

"Owwww!" moaned Luna. "Oh, God, ow!... Oh, my back!"

"Your back? My back! Son of a banshee!"

"Uuugghh… Now can we go to St. Mungo's?... Ouuuuchh!"

"Yes," Draco panted. "Yes, Luna; Now we can go to St. Mungo's… Oh, dear sweet Dumbledore; the pain!"


The convo between Draco and Artemis is the scene I thought of when this idea came to me, and I went from there. Hope you liked it! :3 Also, for those of you who don't know what "younger than dirt" means; it comes from "older than dirt," which is what you say when someone or something is really old. The phrase is mostly used to describe adults once they hit forty (at least, that's how I've always heard it to be used), but since Draco isn't forty yet, he's "younger than dirt." Get it? Teeehee.

Now that you're all the way here at the bottom of the page, you might as well click that pretty button underneath and review. Much appreciated!

~Alpha~