Author's Note: For the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season Two/Round Twelve, as Captain for the Caerphilly Catapults, substituting for Keeper of the Caerphilly Catapults, writing a version of Cinderella with Harry Potter characters. Also, for the If You Dare Challenge, prompt 529. A Midnight Dance. If you like this, check out my story "The Last Poison" for a Snow White story.
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Cinderelly Girl
(Luna is a servant to her stepmother, who's holding a dinner-and-a-murder party, where the murder must be solved by midnight. During the party, Luna meets an interesting boy named Draco…)
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Once upon a time…
Luna was sweeping the kitchen, humming a song under her breath. After this, she only had to wash the mirrors and windows, polish the furniture, trim the plants, and do the dishes, which somehow seemed like less than normal.
"Are you still only sweeping?" her stepmother demanded when she entered the kitchen. "How do you think you're going to have the house ready for the party?"
"I'm almost done," she said dreamily, and put the broom and dustpan aside. She reached for a cloth to start on the windows, and her stepmother scolded:
"Well, hurry," before she left.
Luna wiped the grime off of the windows in swirling patterns, still humming.
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The first party guests arrived in the evening, when the sun was setting amongst an array of pinks and yellows and oranges and reds and golds and—
"Luuuuuuuunaaaa!" called her stepmother. "Where are the appetizers?"
"On the table," said Luna.
"No, they are not on the table, they are nowhere to be found—oh." She looked where Luna was pointing, and snapped, "Go put out more."
Luna picked up a tray and brought it out into the main area, where the guests were chatting—dinner and a murder, what a delightful idea….
She had just put the tray on the table when someone drawled, "What are those?"
Luna looked up. "They're pumpkin pasties. Would you like one?"
"No."
"All right."
The boy was still looking at her.
"Is there something else I could get you?"
"No."
"—Luuuuuuuunaaaa, why are you pestering the guests!"
"Not pestering," said the boy, to Luna's surprise, but someone interjected from behind him:
"And why are you talking to the servants?" He seemed to be the boy's father.
"Lucius," said her stepmother, "I didn't see you come in. I saw Draco, but…."
Their conversation continued, and her stepmother ordered her back to the kitchen to prepare more food, so Luna slipped away, but she glanced back at—Draco, apparently—and wondered if she'd see him again.
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Someone spoke from behind her in the kitchen, and even though there had been no one there before, Luna didn't start.
"Hello, Draco," she said, turning and being greeted with a scowl. But she was used to that.
The dinner part of the night was over, and the guests were again socializing—snacking, dancing—before the murder would be solved.
"My father wants me to dance with a girl," said Draco. "And you're the only one who's talked to me all night." He looked down as he said this, but then continued, "So come dance with me."
Luna thought about this for a second, then blinked. She was supposed to make the guests happy, after all. "All right."
She followed him back out to the main area, to the dance floor, where a waltz was playing, and they began to dance.
Draco had evidently done this before—perhaps he had lessons? But while Luna knew hypothetically how to waltz, and swayed well to the music, she had never actually done the dance before, and it took her some moments to find her pace.
They moved a bit slowly compared to all of the people around them, and didn't speak until Luna asked, "You really couldn't get any other girl to dance with you?"
"Well," Draco spluttered, "I—I didn't try very hard."
"I see." She gave him a knowing smile and earned another scowl in return.
"Let's just dance."
So for another while it was just the music. They danced for longer than Luna should've been out of the kitchen, but they got to actually talking, and Draco talked about how he hated these stuffy parties, and Luna agreed she thought they were silly, and it was 11:59 when he was leaning in and—
The clock chimed, making them jump apart.
"It's time to solve the murder!" called Luna's stepmother.
The guests were being called to assemble around the tables, and Luna wasn't supposed to be with them; her stepmother would see, and— "I have to go," she told Draco hurriedly, and ran off towards the kitchen.
She took a moment to catch her breath; but, Draco had been about to kiss her… she giggled, and poked her head out of the kitchen.
The guests were giving their final conclusions about the "murder", what they'd gotten from talking to other guests and especially from the clues left around the house.
"Now!" Luna heard her stepmother calling. "Murderer, reveal yourself."
(Luna didn't know who her stepmother had had pretend to be the murderer, and she didn't really care until—)
One hand went up—Draco Malfoy's.
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Luna was again cleaning, thinking of ways to sneak back into the party, when she heard a drawl of, "So, now you're the girl who danced with the murderer."
"Indeed," Luna said, cheerful again, turning around.
There was silence, and she babbled, "You certainly didn't give them any hints. You didn't talk to anyone other than me that I saw."
Draco shrugged, as if he didn't make the purpose of the party more difficult.
More silence.
Luna continued. "You were going to kiss me earlier."
He avoided looking at her. "Yes."
She made a show of wiping her hands on her clothes and clearing her throat and walking over to him. "Well?"
He blinked.
Finally, Luna just leant over and kissed him on the cheek, but Draco turned and they kissed, for just a second because they both started and again jumped apart.
But Luna smiled.
(She knew it would be the first of many kisses.)
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It was.
The next most important one came years later on their wedding day, after Luna had escaped her stepmother's grasp and her and Draco had fallen more and more in love.
They served pumpkin pasties at the wedding. "Do you remember asking me what they were?" Luna asked, and of course Draco said yes.
… and they all lived happily ever after.
THE END