Disclaimer: I do not own—nor am I affiliated with—Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling, or Warner Brothers.

Author Note: This was once intended to be a multi-chaptered fic, but I left it as a stand-alone. I rather like how it ended.

Chapter One: Breeze

She was beautiful. One of a kind. She was faster, stronger, and more graceful than any other. And she was calling his name.

Draco Malfoy stood outside Flyte & Barker's, almost touching the glass as he surveyed the beautiful specimen on the other side of the glass. The handle was made of black ironwood and polished to a high sheen. Each twig in the sweep was individually selected by hand to ensure perfect aerodynamic support and maximum speed capacity. It was unbeatable—incomparable—the Penumbran. Draco was practically drooling as he gazed at the broomstick. It must be obscenely expensive, he thought to himself with a smirk.

Turning from the storefront, Draco mentally added it to his must-have list and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. He was wearing Muggles clothes, which he found completely repulsive, but unfortunately necessary for the time being. The denim of his jeans was bunching around the backs of his knees awkwardly and he longed for tailored-to-fit dress pants and black robes. Every few steps he over-flexed his calf muscles to dislodge the troublesome fabric and prayed to whoever might be listening that no one he knew recognized him.

But no one was listening, it seemed, for at that moment, Blaise Zabini strode around the corner and spotted him.

"Draco," Blaise said half-heartedly and Draco noticed on the other boy a smirk that he himself had perfected while they were students at Hogwarts. "You're, uh, looking well," Blaise said.

Draco grinned predatorily. "Don't patronize me, Blaise," he said. "You were never much of a liar."

Blaise nodded. "Fair enough. How've you been, Draco? I heard a rumor that—"

"Yes," Draco said, cutting the other boy off, looking annoyed. "Everyone's heard that rumor. I can assure you I'm doing everything I can to quash it," he added meaningfully, eyeing Blaise dangerously.

"Same old Draco, then," Blaise said as though Draco's veiled threat had confirmed it.

Draco shrugged as though that should be obvious and opened his mouth to excuse himself, but Blaise interrupted him with an unexpected question.

"Any parties planned this summer, then?" Blaise asked. "We're all graduated now. It would be a nice send-off. D'you remember we had parties every summer on your dad's yacht? D'you still have that old thing?" he asked. The implication was clear; he was trying to find truth in the rumor he'd heard.

Draco flippantly waved one hand in the air to dismiss the suspicions and said, "Nah, he traded it in for a bigger one. Named it after my mother, the sentimental nutter. Expect my owl early next week and make sure your weekend's free, Zabini. You wouldn't want to be excluded… by mistake."

Draco smirked nastily and walked away and up the street without another word to his old friend. He ran his fingers through his hair, which was not slicked back as he had kept it for much of his childhood. It was longer now, but not long enough to tuck behind his ears, so it fell to either side of his face. The pale blond had fallen to the color of wheat after puberty, and his eyes, had darkened from their icy hue to a blue slate color.

Now, those eyes were forced to refocus to a clipboard being thrust into his face by a young woman who seemed to be collecting signatures for some petition or another. He hardly looked at her as he took the pen and scribbled his name quickly across it without looking for its purpose. If it would get her to go away, it was worth the three seconds it would take to sign it.

As he walked away, he heard her call out, "Thanks for your help!" Ignoring her, he turned a corner and was out of sight.

Have to figure out what to do about this party, he thought to himself with a frown.

The owls went out two days later; Draco Malfoy was hosting the party of the season on his father's boat, the Narcissa. Everyone who had called him a friend in Slytherin had been invited, as well as many younger and older Slytherins he remembered were from important families. The party was to be wizard-formal—dress pants and robes for the men, gowns for the women. A fine selection of wines and champagnes would be made available to the attendees, and hors d'oeuvres would be served throughout the evening, according to the calligraphy on the textured invitations.

Let them believe the rumors after seeing this, Draco thought to himself as he'd tied the final one to a messenger owl and sent it off. The party would cost a fair mint, but it would all be worth it if it paid off. Thirty-four of the wizarding world's finest had been invited and Draco intended to send them off from graduation with a party that would remind every one of them exactly who he was and how much power the name 'Malfoy' still carried.

The location was to be at the marina at which point the yacht would sail away from harbor so the party, if it got wilder than intended, wouldn't draw the attention of the Muggles—specifically, the Muggle police. Draco stood on the deck of boat and waited for all of the invitees to arrive, counting them in his head even as he greeted them and directed them toward the champagne table which contained only empty glasses. When picked up, however, the glasses would instantly fill with whatever had been stowed below deck for just that purpose.

Blaise was the thirteenth to arrive, though Draco had been sorely tempted to simply neglect to invite the boy after the tone he'd taken in their conversation before. He would've found a way in, anyway, Draco thought as he shook Blaise's hand and pasted on the Malfoy smile. And then it would have been nasty.

"It's a posh set-up," Blaise said, releasing Draco's hand. He still looked smug and unconvinced and Draco's blood boiled beneath the surface, though only his eyes flashed with any change of emotion.

"A bit large for my taste," Draco said in a bored voice. "But father keep buying bigger and bigger boats."

"It's far larger than any I've been on," said a voice from behind them.

Draco turned around, both glad and annoyed for the distraction. He blinked at the girl who had interrupted their conversation. He vaguely recognized her, but couldn't place the face with a name at first. It was a wonder he could at all, because once he had remembered her name, the difference between the woman standing in front of him and the Luna Lovegood he recalled from school was… impressive.

This woman had blond hair in impeccable ringlets on either side of her face that at once appeared painstakingly sculpted and carelessly tossed into place. Her face had thinned out from school, as had her waist a bit, though she had rather filled out in, er… other places. She was also not wearing any crazy sort of clothing as she would have in school aside from her radish-like earrings which had always been an oddity, but now seemed merely quirky—almost fashionable.

The gown she was wearing was quite stunning, if unusual. It had a high collar and full sleeves, but when she turned to remove her coat and place it in the hands of a waiting witch wearing servants' uniform robes, he saw that the back was open all the way down to her waist save for a choker-like strip of material around her neck that connected to the shoulders and sleeves. It wasn't cream or black or red as were those of the other female guests who had arrived; this dress was a bright lavender-magenta with pomegranate accents lined in pale yellow. The pattern had no reason or rhyme other than the designer's whim, apparently.

It took Draco a moment to realize that he was staring, his mouth slightly open in surprise. He came around, however, when Blaise's sneering voice asked, "You invited Loony Lovegood to the Slytherin party?"

Draco's mouth snapped shut and he realized that the boy was right. He hadn't invited her to the party. So what was she doing there, dressed like… that? Without answering Blaise, who was really an inconsequential future failure anyway, Draco made his way over to where Luna was walking onto the ship.

"Draco!" she greeted graciously, presuming to take his left hand gently in both of hers. "It's really swell to see you again," she said.

"Yes, but what are you doing here?" Blaise asked from behind Draco.

Draco, all but furious with the other man, snapped, "Shut up, Blaise." He glared over his shoulder until Blaise shrugged and cleared off.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked Luna, turning back to her.

"You invited me, silly," Luna said, smiling. "We met last week in front of Flyte and Barker's, remember? You signed my petition to help pay for the education of House Elves."

Draco stared at her for a moment, unable to determine what he should say, but she continued, her gaze turning skyward thoughtfully. "Or maybe you were talking to someone else about the party and I assumed you were inviting me since you were talking quite loudly. Oh, well," she said, shrugging. Without another word to him, she wandered off into the party and began to greet the former Slytherins, introducing herself.

Draco watched her go, his mouth still hanging slightly open. So she'd just… invited herself? He didn't know entirely how to respond to that. So, he didn't. He shook his head and left to schmooze the rest of his invited guests. Eventually, someone would make her feel unwelcome and she would leave the same way she came in… maybe. He smiled nastily at the thought of someone cursing her overboard. Have someone else take the trash out, he thought to himself.

Eventually, though, Luna made her way through all of the guests who either sneered and tossed back-handed insults in her direction or were too shocked to react to her strangeness. She worked her way around the ship in an air of semi-dreaminess, smiling to everyone, finally making a full circle back to Draco a couple of hours later.

Draco had made his own social rounds with considerably more ease and certainly more speed than she had and was by himself at this time. The sun was setting already against the faraway horizon and Draco was standing near the bow of the yacht, sipping on a glass of champagne and smirking smugly to himself as he watched the guests enjoy themselves. That's where she joined him, walking over on pinkish heels and wearing her dazed expression.

"It's a lovely party," she said, sipping on her own drink.

Draco just stared at her. How was she still standing on the ship? How had she survived what must have been a nearly never-ending stream of snark from his frien—er, acquaintances?

"The champagne is very tasty," she said next.

Draco exhibited more strained and surprised silence.

Luna cleared her throat, smiling. "You seem to be enjoying yourself," she said then, raising her volume like one might speak to someone who is hard of hearing. He scowled.

To give himself time to think properly, Draco took another sip from his glass and cleared his throat. "I am," he said shortly. Then, voicing the question that had been running through his head since he'd first seen her, he asked, "Why are you here?"

Luna's dreamy expression broke up into a genuine grin. "Sometimes it's nice to pretend you have friends, even when you don't," she said, looking happy as though the statement wasn't nearly heart-breaking.

Draco's mouth fell open at the statement, his expression readable only as disbelief. "You… came here to pretend that we were your friends?" he asked, certain he had misunderstood.

She nodded, smiling cheerfully. "It's a good break to a boring day," she said. "Even when people say nasty things, you just pretend that it's an inside joke between the two of you and you can laugh with them when they laugh at you. It's quite a self-esteem booster."

Draco was struck dumb by this revelation, watching Luna with opened-mouth shock. "That… doesn't make… any bloody sense," Draco managed to sputter.

"Doesn't it?" she asked, her expression turning lucid as she gave him an almost knowing wink. "It's all about attitude, Draco," she added.

Draco opened his mouth to tell her she was completely off her nut, when a commotion off portside distracted him. A Muggle Coastguard ship was shining a bright spotlight onto the ship and a voice on a loudspeaker was barking instructions. Draco's wand was in his hand in the next instant, as were those of half of the guests—the ones with pockets.

"Attention, all aboard the Serendipity! You are in illegal possession of a private sea-faring vessel! Do not move! We are attempting to pull alongside you to board! Please remain on the boat! Please do not resist apprehension! We must take you all into custody until the responsible party is discovered!"

"I thought your ship was named after your mother," Luna said, lifting her arm to point into the bright light. As she did so, her arm hit Draco's, knocking his wand from his hand and sending it flying into the water below.

"No!" Draco shouted, nearly jumping over the side of the ship to grab at his lost wand. He hit the railing, his arms dangling over it uselessly as he stared at the ripples in the water where his wand had fallen in. He could see now, from this angle, the name of the ship—Serendipity—and cursed. The charm he'd cast hadn't held nearly as long as he'd hoped.

"Sorry!" Luna said, hand over her mouth, but Draco couldn't bring himself to look back at her. He turned his attention to the commotion going on on the stolen boat and his heart sank further into his stomach.

Nearby, the voice in the loudspeaker was repeating its instructions, but the witches and wizards on board had already started Disapparating.

"I repeat, do not leave the ship!"

The Muggle Coastguard thought the partygoers were jumping ship. They were deploying life rafts manned by two guards each who were searching the waters for the jumpers. Draco had barely enough time to think how stupid Muggles could be when one of them was standing over him. He slumped to sit on the deck floor, looking utterly defeated. The Transfiguration on his Muggles clothes had faded along with the one on the painted name on the side of the boat, and he sat there wearing his faded, torn jeans and plain t-shirt. Luna, he noted mentally, was gone.

So much for my reputation, he thought bitterly as the man yanked him to his feet, jerked his arms behind his back, and placed handcuffs around his wrists. This is absolutely newspaper worthy.

Draco was tossed into a jail cell when it was confirmed by two girls who had been abandoned by their dates that they had been invited to attend a party on a ship that supposedly belonged to him. So much for Slytherin solidarity. The cell was a rather dreary bit of scenery, with a toilet at one side and a set of benches in the middle and around the edges of the small room. He was, luckily, the only person in the cell since the two guests had been released with the apology of the Muggle police, because he looked as awful as he felt.

One of his sleeves was torn at the shoulder seam. His hair was disheveled, sticking up on one side, and his pants had been ripped further at the knees when he'd tripped over his own feet getting onto the Coastguard ship. Looking completely miserable, Draco walked over to sit on one of the benches against the wall, leaning his head back so that his eyes were staring directly into the bare bulb above the center of the room. He sat like that for what seemed like hours, slipping into a sort of trance that wasn't quite sleep, but still made him mostly unaware of his surroundings. Small blessings.

"You'll ruin your eyes that way."

Draco blinked when he heard the voice and lowered his eyes to look into the smiling face of Luna Lovegood. She was standing on the other side of the bars next to a fat police officer who was fooling with a set of keys at the lock. She was wearing normal, Muggle clothes and her hair was down now.

"Let's go, then," the officer said. "We caught the man responsible, so you're free to go."

Draco looked stunned and didn't move at first. Then, at once, he popped up from the bench and quickly exited the cell, following Luna into the station lobby. The fat officer arranged some paperwork behind the desk, got Draco's signature on them, and then sent the pair of them out of the station without so much as a backward glance.

"What just happened?" Draco asked out loud as they walked down the street in the middle of the night. He wasn't really addressing Luna, but she answered him anyway.

"I used a Memory Charm on him," she said, smiling brightly. "It was dishonest."

"D-dishonest?" he said, not sure if he was impressed or baffled. Probably both. "It… But, why?"

Luna shrugged and continued walking. "You were my pretend friend tonight," she said without thinking about it. "Oh!" she exclaimed, stopping suddenly. She turned to him, holding her hands out in front of her. Resting in her palms was Draco's wand. He noticed, then, that her hair was looking slightly damp as though it had been hastily dried after being soaked through.

Still stunned by the slew of ridiculous events that had occurred that evening, Draco carefully picked up the wand from Luna's hands and held its familiar grip between his fingers.

"Thank you."

He didn't even realize the words had come from his own mouth until Luna replied with a chipper, "No problem." She started walking again and Draco, unsure what else to do, followed her. She seemed to know where she was going.

"It's true then, isn't it?" she asked casually as they walked down the street in the dark. "That your dad disowned you?"

Draco's throat constricted, but he asked, "Everyone knows, don't they?"

"If they didn't before, they will in the morning," she said, her tone still insufferably cheerful. "It was a good party, though. How did you afford it?"

Not sure why he was telling her, he said, "My… dad. When he kicked me out, he threw a handful of gold at me. Told me to never come asking for more."

"Bet you used all of it," she said conversationally, stopping in front of a worn-down looking building and fishing in her jacket pocket for a set of keys.

Draco didn't answer the question, but that was its own answer. Instead, he asked, "Where are we?"

The street where they had ended up was not in any neighborhood Draco had ever been in before, which was hardly a surprise since anyone dressed like Draco normally dressed would probably wind up in an alley with a headache and no money shortly after arriving.

"My place," Luna said, unlocking the door and swinging it open. A slight breeze carried the stench of stale air and carpet mold to Draco's nose from the open doorway. "Coming?" she asked, looking expectantly.

Draco stared at her, but she only smiled kindly, seeming to understand his hesitation.

"Tonight," she began with surprising clarity, "I pretended to have friends. I pretended to like and be liked by people who did not like me and who would never speak to me if they knew where I really lived. What did you do?"

Her eyes were too kind; she disappeared into the doorway and up a set of creaky, wooden stairs.

A moment later, Draco joined her, locking the door behind him.