A Harry Potter fanfic
For years, Draco Malfoy had been known to be Hogwarts' resident bully and bad-boy. There wasn't anything—or any girl—that he couldn't have. Even Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley had to admit that he was good-looking. He had that air of confidence, which was usually followed up by arrogance, which made girls go weak in the knees. Draco led a charmed life, and he knew it. He relished it, and even flaunted it. But there was one person who seemed to be immune to his antics: Hogwarts' resident nut-case (not Professor Trewlaney), Luna Lovegood.
Luna Lovegood, the girls who wore radishes as earrings and seemed to have a craving for pudding, puzzled the great prince of Slytherin. She always had a positive outlook on life, never had a bad word to say about anyone, and she smiled more than anyone else Draco knew. Not only did it cause him frustration to see Luna waltz through the corridors of Hogwarts completely oblivious to its horrors, but that people thought she was crazy. If everyone at school thought the way she did, maybe things wouldn't seem so bad. Maybe his life wouldn't seem so bad.
The morning was bleak and grey, but for Luna the sun just went to visit the clouds. She was seated on the floor of the library, tucked away between shelves of books, her waist-long hair pulled back into a messy braid. Draco observed Luna with fascination and contempt. There she was in the middle of the library, shoes off, wand tucked behind her ear, reading an issue of The Quibbler upside down. She didn't have a care in the world. And here he was, charged with a dark task, sacrificing his life, and practically stalking the girl who could see nargles, whatever they are.
As he watched Luna flip through the pages of her magazine, he felt something other than scorn and curiosity. Envy. Draco Malfoy had never envied anyone or anything. Until now. Draco envied the Ravenclaw girl. He wanted to be just as carefree as she was; not to have any responsibilities to the Dark Lord, shoulders relieved of the burden he had to bear alone—the task he had been given and had to complete. She probably had parents who loved her more than the world itself. Angrily Draco forced himself to look away from the girl; lest he became so overcome with jealousy he went up to her and did something he would later regret.
But he couldn't help himself. He had to look at her. He needed to look at her. Draco raised his head from the book he had opened, not even reading its contents. He grazed his eyes over to the spot where she was sitting, only to find that she had left. This wasn't right, she was just there a second ago. Surely he would have noticed if she had moved. But he didn't. And now she was gone. Draco slammed the book shut, and shoved himself away from the table. He practically trampled over a third year as he made his way over to where she had been.
Draco ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair. He had missed his chance. He should've talked to her while he had the chance. He paced in a circle thinking of all the places that she could be. As he racked his brain for any information that would help him, he realized that he really didn't know her. He knew absolutely nothing about what she liked, or who she hung out with, her interests, her family, or her hobbies. Some stalker he turned out to be.
With a sigh, Draco slid down the bookshelf and sat on the floor in the exact place she had been. The sun had begun to shine through the clouds illuminating the rows of books. The shelves casted a shadow over Draco as he continued to sulk in his failed attempt at connecting with Luna.
He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, but he was joined by another body sitting unnaturally close to him. Draco had the type of personality that either attracted or repelled a person. The only people who were ever this close to him were Crabbe and Goyle (though even they stayed a good foot away from him), Pansy Parkinson (she was almost too clingy. Not an attractive quality, but then again, she wasn't that attractive in first place), and whatever girl he had managed to tangle himself with for the night. It was strange for Draco to think that someone would actually want to sit next to him; hands almost touching on the floor, feeling the heat radiate off of one another.
There was a new feeling that Draco had never experienced before. He had felt pain, anger, hatred, fear, sorrow, envy, anxiety…what was left? Relief? Or was it love? His breathing became labored. He could feel little beads of sweat form at his hairline. Did she really come back to sit next to him? And why would she do that, unless…unless she felt the same way Draco thought he felt. There was only one way to find out.
Draco continued to stare straight ahead as his fingers walked their way towards the hand next to him on the floor. All the while he could feel his stomach doing backflips and his heart rising up into his throat. As painful and frightening as it was, he had never felt better in his entire life. If that was what being in love felt like, why had he not admitted it to himself sooner? Finally, his fingers began to make their way across the top of her hand. But there was something wrong. Her hands felt colder and rougher than he had imagined. Perhaps she was just as stunned as he was.
Draco never looked away from the far bookshelf. If he did, he would've cast a spell and regret it, run away and regret it, or vomit. All of which were not an option at a moment like this. His left hand found the fingers of the girl sitting next to him. Intertwining his long one with hers, Draco's mind and heart began to race. He had done it. There wasn't a chance that she would pull away. Now if he could just look at her, everything would be right in the world, even for just that moment. He pulled in a sharp breath and whipped his head to face the girl he had been longing to touch—hell, to just even talk to—for six years of school.
Then there, at his side, clutching his hand with a vice-like grip, sat a giggling girl with black hair, and a pudgy face. This was definitely not Luna Lovegood. It was Pansy Parkinson, cackling and snorting at the fact that Draco Malfoy was holding her hand. With the most undignified of yelps, Draco snatched back his hand as if he had been burned and stood up so fast Pansy didn't even have time to blink. How could he have been so stupid? He should have made sure it was Luna. He shouldn't even have tried to reach out his hand. It was a complete disaster, but it wouldn't be the first time he had done something idiotic, nor he doubted the last. But there was the proof staring back at him from the library floor, a lopsided, crooked-tooth grin etched on her face with an upturned nose.
"What's wrong Draco?" Her voice was shrill and whiny. How Draco had ever been able to endure all those endless one-sided "conversations" with her was beyond him. He turned away from her, trying to compose himself. It wasn't working.
"What the hell are you doing here Pansy?" His voice shook with anger. He was angry at her for fooling him, and angrier at himself for falling for it. The Slytherin girl just looked up at him in mock sadness. Her eyelashes fluttered unnaturally, like moths trying to escape from fly paper.
"But I thought you wanted me? You wouldn't have held my hand if you didn't." Her crooked-teeth appeared once more in an attempt at a smile. This was too much for Draco to take. He couldn't stand her, but he still needed to be a gentleman about it.
"Pansy, please understand when I say this: I do not love you. I have never loved you, and I will never love you." He combed his fingers through his hair. The perspiration that had formed earlier now made his forehead sticky and hot. The rejected girl blinked several times before turning her expression dark and murderous.
"You don't love me?" The shrillness and volume of her voice caused several students to end their work and stare at the pair. One such person was Luna Lovegood, who had come back to her spot only to find Draco shouting at Pansy. "You've been leading me on this whole time!"
"No I haven't! I've made it very clear that I had no interest in you!" Lie. There was no use denying that he had led Pansy on. He had used her to make other girls jealous. Yes he did feel bad, but that was then, and this was now. Pansy went slack-jawed as Draco said these things to her.
"Oh? Well then tell me Draco," she spat, "who do you have an interest in? Hmm?" He couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell anyone. Worst of all he couldn't admit it to himself. By this time, half the library had tuned into the very loud, very public argument. "Well Draco? Who is it that has captured your heart?"
"Lunalovegood." He muttered, making Luna's name sound like someone had said it with a mouth full of potatoes.
"Excuse me? Who?" Pansy shrieked. Her face had turned from it's sickly pale color to flaming red. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, Draco thought to himself, backing into the bookshelf.
"I said, you ignorant, heartless twit, Luna Lovegood." Might as well go out with a bang.
Those in the library gasped in shock and horror as Draco made public his interest in "Loony" Lovegood. If Draco declared feeling for her, the world might as well be ending. Pansy stood petrified. How could he, Draco Malfoy, love Luna Lovegood? It seemed to defy the laws of nature to some. Even to Luna who was listening in secret seemed stunned.
"H-ho-how? How could you love that lanky, insane—freak?" Pansy had lost her mind (not that she had one to begin with).
Draco became enraged again. "Don't you dare call her a freak!" His voice rose as did his temper. He must have really loved her if he was willing to do this in public. "Luna has more creativity and compassion and brains in her little finger than you do in your entire body. And let me tell you something Pansy, she may be a little different and let's face it, down-right bizarre, but she's happy. I doubt that you could say that same thing for yourself. So why don't you take your attitude, and your pig nose and go sleep with someone who gives a crap?"
Pansy fumed silently. No one made a fool of Pansy Parkinson and got away with it. "Well," she huffed, puffing up her chest like an overgrown, greasy-haired chicken, "if that's how you feel—" She turned on her heel and began to storm out, only to whip around and smack Draco square in the face. There were gasps and giggles as he massaged his throbbing cheek. The slap didn't hurt nearly as much as when Granger had punched him third year, but that was because she had punched him in the nose instead of slapping him. Still, the emotional trauma to his ego stung even more than his face.
With his cheek still producing its own heartbeat, Draco glared at anyone who dared whisper or sneak glances at him. Straightening his clothes, he caught sight of Luna standing behind the bookshelf, wand behind her ear, still without shoes, holding the magazine she had been reading earlier under her arm. Draco dropped his gaze once he realized that she had seen everything. She had probably heard everything too—who hadn't? Draco pretended to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt, well aware that his right cheek now matched his left in color. Much to his dismay, he knew there was the possibility of receiving another slap. Only if that did happen, it would in more places than just his face.
Luna quietly moved from behind the bookshelf, ignoring the whispers and stares of those who had come to watch Pansy assault Draco. She moved slowly towards him, trying to catch his gaze. Her dreamy eyes softened as she saw the damage that Pansy had done to his face. People were still looking on, wondering if she was about to do the same.
"Draco?" Her voice was soft and fluid, like a small stream that glistened in the sunlight. It sounded much more soothing than Pansy's high pitched shrieks. Draco shoved his hands in his pockets, still avoiding her eyes.
"You're not going to hit me too are you?" He might as well ask and brace himself now while he still had a chance.
"No." Luna looked down at her mismatched socks. "I just wanted to know if you meant all those things you said about me." Draco looked at her face. Her eyes did that dreamy-hopeful thing that he had found so fascinating and annoying at the same time.
"Yeah—yeah I did." The corners of his mouth pulled up into a small smile. Not a smirk, a genuine smile. Luna gazed into his grey eyes. The sunlight through the windows made them almost transparent, like she was seeing into his soul.
Without giving it a second thought, Luna raised herself on her toes to plant a soft kiss on his right cheek. Once she was close enough, Draco turned his head causing their lips to meet instead. As much as those around them were shocked at the sight, the library erupted in applause and cheers. Draco pulled away first, though he did not want to. It was the most amazing feeling that he had felt in his whole life. Luna looked dazed—which was normal—but a faint blush appeared on her cheeks as the other students, and even some faculty, cheered them on.
Draco took hold of Luna's hand and led her out of the library into the very crowded corridor. A few fifth years stopped and stared, one of them Ginny Weasley. Ginny's wide eyes fell on the entwined hands of Malfoy and Luna. Luna noticed this and softly said that she'll tell Ginny later. Ginny's gaze shifted towards Draco who was sporting a fresh red mark on his cheek she knew to be from Pansy. Her eyes narrowed at him as if to say, "You hurt her and you will have an army after you." Draco shrunk back into Luna's side as Ginny walked on with her friends.
As they made their way towards the Great Hall, they said very little to each other, but that was fine to Draco. Luna didn't need to say anything for him to know what she was thinking. Along the way, groups of people would stop and stare at them in disbelief. The Slytherin prince and "Loony" Lovegood, holding hands, smiling, together. When they reached the Great Hall, they stopped and went to sit on the steps, wondering what would happen once they went in together. Draco had let go Luna's hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "You know, sometimes I wish I didn't go to this school. Wouldn't have to deal with the drama and the expectations."
Luna took his hand back in hers and just gave him that dreamy look that he loved so much. "You could always go to Pigfarts." Draco raised his eyebrow at this suggestion.
"Pigfarts?" He smiled at Luna. He knew that if he wanted this thing to work, he was going to try. He was going to have to try really, really hard. "Tell me more." Luna beamed at him, launching herself into the details about the school on Mars whose headmaster was a lion who could talk. Draco just listened to her, lost in her voice and her eyes, not caring if he was ever found again.