The moon shone over the castle and somebody was laughing.
It was a hard, cold sound; devoid of any emotion but pure hysteria.
Draco Malfoy looked up from the book he was now clutching like his first-born child, the maniacal gleam in his eyes fading as his eyes re-focused and slid around the room. Everything seemed to be fine; nobody had entered the room since he had found what he was looking for.
Slipping the book under his robes, stifling the smug, triumphant smirk that turned his skin a snowy white, though his cheeks were flushed pink, he left the dormitory.
Malfoy was absent from his lessons for the next three hours.
Curled up underneath his own emerald silk sheets, eyes gleaming frantically as he turned pages in the book that he would now value over almost his own life, Malfoy read. He gently marked the pages that held most interest to him with the end of his wand, creating a thin, gold web around the page that glittered for his eyes only.
He snapped the book shut as someone's heavy footfalls alerted him to their presence, he glanced up, sliding the book underneath his covers and lying back, eyes closed.
He didn't know who it was coming into their dorm, but he didn't want them to find him awake and reading what was clearly a diary.
Whoever it was left quickly and without much thought for Draco, who was lying perfectly still, his cheeks still tinged red and his heart beating so fast and loud that they must surely have heard it.
To be on the safe side, Draco lay still for ten further minutes, then slowly slid out of bed and sat on the edge of his rumpled sheets. He flipped the book open to the next page, his shaking fingers tracing the neat italic writing as his eyes devoured the pages, his breathing becoming more laboured as he imagined her head bent over the book, her pale hands flitting across the pages as she wrote.
Closing his eyes, he flung himself backwards across his bed and felt pleasure rush through him with a hoarse cry. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around, blushing dark crimson, eyes gleaming with excitement, fear, embarassment, desperation, hope.
"Malfoy," someone shouted, and with a hastily muttered curse, Draco wiped himself down as best as he could, pulled on a long coat to hide the worst of the dark patches on his clothes (it was a mixture of excited sweat and some less familiar and more worrying stains) and glanced in the mirror above his bed. He pressed a hand to his cheeks; they were boiling hot.
"Coming," he called back down the stairs, and was pleased with the huskiness of his voice; perhaps he could convince Madam Pomfrey to allow him to stay in his dormitory for a few more days.
Pansy.
"What's the matter, honey?" she pouted, steel-coloured eyes narrowing in what she thought was a sultry way. Draco shrugged off her warm hand that pressed against his clammy forehead. He shrugged.
"You're all bundled up in that coat, babe," she continued, tracing a line down his chest and undoing several buttons as she went. Draco turned around.
"If that's all you want," he said, regretting the shake in his voice as he backed away slowly. "Then I'm going back to bed."
"Lemme come with you," Pansy suggested, winking. Her mouth turned up at the corners, and Draco closed his eyes momentarily.
"No," he said, slowly. Pansy blinked, hurt.
"Fine," she said, flouncing away. She turned around - "See if I ever sleep with you!" she hurled at him, face set in a hard line of anger.
"I'm so sorry," Draco murmured, once he was back upstairs. He kissed the front of her book, whispered, "I love you so much", slid the book under the covers and blew out the candle that was resting on his bedside table.
He saw her in the great hall.
His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the mask of carefully perfected arrogance falter for a moment. He breathed deeply, turned his eyes away from the back of her head, and fixed the sneer back on his face.
She was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, her blonde hair somehow different this morning. What had she done to it? It seemed curlier; Draco stared at it until his eyes ached. It gleamed almost orange where the sun hit it, waving gently to the middle of her back. She wore Hogwarts robes, her tie loose and hanging down near her chest. Draco tried not to stare too much, there was certainly not much there to fixate on, but somehow that made him want her more. Her skirt was riding a little above her knees; she wore no tights, and her legs were slim and pale.
"Draco?"
He turned around, mouth forming her name as Goyle stared down at him. "Y'OK?"
"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively, waving him away. He took a drink of pumpkin juice and winced; just because he was a wizard didn't mean he didn't hanker after a good old fashioned orange juice with his breakfast.
He saw her again at lunch.
His eyes misted over, his mouth hung slack. He could see her face this time; her perfect eyes, almost almond shaped, bright blue. Her nose, tiny as it was, seemed to fit perfectly on her face. Her mouth, which he stared at most of all, was a light pink colour, and he was sure she wore no coloured lipgloss. The V-shape in the centre of her top lip was perfect, making her mouth look round, plump, kissable.
Luna.