He looked positively miserable, sitting under the sinks of the public bathroom of that fancy ballroom, eyes closed. He was wearing an extremely elegant black suit and a slightly opened silver shirt. Draco Malfoy, all marble skin and sunray-silk hair was sprawled on the floor of a bathroom with his yes tightly shut. He was barefoot, his expensive black shoes thrown on the side. His head was resting against the cool tiles of the room and the sinks partially hid him, but it was clear that someone dangerously pale was there.
It was not by pleasure that he'd ended up there. This was a party of the minister, and he had only been invited because the secretary had requested the presence of all employees to give the impression of a big crowd. Everybody disliked him. The long-way-back pureblood families considered the Malfoys oportunists blood-traitors and people like the Weasleys or the new muggle-born talents of magic still considered them arrogant racists.
All the people looked at Draco with disdain. They interrupted him when he talked, they ignored him when they when introductions were made. It was truly a delight. And to top it all, his stomach hurt in a extraordinary way that day. So he entered the men's room, put an out of order sign on the door so nobody would bother him and decided to wallow on his own misery for the rest of the evening. No such luck.
Luna recognized him inmediately even if he was half hidden, and the made her think about the bathroom fairies who harmoniously co-habited with the native bacteria of the place. Come think of it, Draco looked more like a bathroom angel. She could totally visualize it now, two big white wings framing his slender figure, a silver glow surrounding him. Groovy!
She promptly decided to take off her shoes too (and she really enjoyed freeing her feet, as light as her shoes were) and to join that angel on the floor. She took a sit right next to him and wordlessly stared at him for a few moments. That was when Draco finally acknowledged that there was someone else in the room and decided to open his eyes.
"Luna Lovegood" he said "What are you doing in a men's room?"
Luna looked around her as if she had no idea of what he was talkking about.
"This is the men's room? Yeah, that would probably explain the sign on the door, wouldn't it? I just had to get out of there, there were so many people, and everyone was talking... They were filling my head with words!"
Draco tried to suppress a smile. It had been years since the last time he'd seen her, but she hadn't changed at all. She still maintained that naive charm and that odd charisma.
"So, how's life? How did everything turn out?" He asked, happy to have a distraction.
"Quite good, actually" she answered, smiling. "I mainly work in the Quibbler, but I also write in Mythical Creatures Digest and Magical beings weekly, and I'm doing a research on Threstrals. I have a couple of them in my house. Which is a nice place except when I try to find something, the place has become so chaotic that even summoning charms have trouble working. And I still maintain contact with some people from school, which is nice, too."
Draco noticed that each one of her toenails was painted in a different colour. It was really an striking individual, this Luna.
"What about you, oh fair skinned prince? You seem troubled."
Something about her (her voice, the way she looked at you and make you feel like she could see everything) made him lower his defences and want to pour out everything he carefully kept from the rest of the world.
"Do you ever have nightmares, Luna?"
"Not very often, no." She answered, as he knew she would.
"Well, I do, I have lots of them. I dream that Voldemort comes back and tortures and kills my parents, just for the fun of it; I dream that aunt Bella reappears and punishes me for being so weak; even that Potter and his friends make me pay for ever being in the wrong side. I tried the dreamless sleep potion, I tried everything... But each and every thing that I did -and that I couldn't do- during those two years I spent under the Dark Lord's orders haunt me, and eat me inside, and I just..."
Two crystal taears rolled down his cheeks. Luna had watched him while he talked and had barely resisted the urge to stroke his silver hair, to caress that porcelain skin, to touch those thin lips... but she didn't stop herself from wiping those tears. Those pain-filled eyes looked at her and she smiled:
"No more tears, Draco. Everything will be ok now. Come on, put your head on my shoulder"
And he did, and they stayed like that for a while, until Draco spoke.
"That's a muggle song."
"Put your head on my shoulder."
Luna didn't ask why he knew that, or if he wasn't supposed to loathe all those muggle things. She didn't care for the Draco everyone knew and hated, she didn't care about his name, about his upbringing. She only cared about this tormented prince, the one with the sparkly eyes and of him she only asked one thing:
"Could you sing it to me?"
And why wouldn't he? She had cheered him up when he thought no one would, he'd stayed with him, no questions asked. So he started:
"Put your head on my shoulder...whisper in my ear, baby...words I want to hear, tell me...Tell me that you love me too."
"Well, I do" Luna said, out of the blue "I love you too."
Neville hadn't seen Luna for the last part of the party and was getting worried. He had found her purse (with her house keys in it) and had asked Ron and Hermione to help him find her. It was after twenty minutes of search that they decided to enter the broken bathroom of the basement floor. They would never had imagined the scene they were going to find in a millon years.
There they were, in a hastily made for the moment with a charm bed, half naked, half covered by the sheets, Luna Lovegood and the one and only Draco Malfoy, cuddled together and sleeping with smiles on their faces.
Hermione let out an "awww" at the cuteness of the whole thing, Neville nearly had a heart attack and Ron (as usual) said the first thing that came to his mind:
"Their kids are going to be so blond!"
A/N: Hope you liked it! The song is Put your head on my shoulder by Paul Anka, although I was thinking on Michael Bublé's version. As always, excuse the english mistakes, I'm just a spanish anglophile. It probably sounds a little less out of character if you read my other Draco/Luna and think of this as what happened some years after. ^^
Anyways, pleaseeeee tell me what you think! Any thoughts are welcome! You know you want to review!