Written for the 2008 fic contest on Ethereal Ravenclaw.
Prompt by: shelledavenger
Betaed by: Emily
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: strong language, brief non-graphic references to consensual sex and attempted abuse.
Neither Here Nor There
"Draco?"
"Leave me alone, Lovegood."
"Do you miss Vincent?"
"Leave me alone, Lovegood!"
"I think I've found a way to talk to them – to those who died."
"You're crazy."
"You've said that before. But don't you have anyone you want to talk to?"
"Leave me the fuck alone."
"All right."
She gets dressed, and leaves.
-
"I can't find it."
"What, your mind?"
"The Hallow. Harry said he dropped it in the Forest. He probably shouldn't have told me. They might have to erase my memory now."
"Potter wouldn't Obliviate you, you fool. He likes you."
"Hermione did it to her parents, and I'm sure she liked them too."
"But her parents are Muggles. That's different."
"How is it different?"
"Their minds are – less complex than ours, Lovegood. That's why they can't grasp magic."
"You think my mind is complex?"
"More complex. Like Hagrid is more intelligent than an average troll."
"Oh. Don't you want to come with me though?"
"No."
"To the Forest, to find the Hallow. Maybe you could talk to someone too. I want to talk to my mum. I need to ask her opinion about Snorkack mating rituals. I'm writing an article about them for Magizoology Monthly."
"You're – you're really insane. You don't just bring back dead people."
"I wouldn't bring her back forever, just for a little while. To see her."
"Luna, you don't tamper with death. It's the darkest kind of magic; it would probably kill you or drive you insane."
"You said I already am insane."
"You're – I don't care what you do. Just - I have better things to worry about."
He throws the book in his bag and leaves.
-
Draco,
I've gone to the Forest to find it. I took enough food to last for a week and mushrooms in case I run into a herd of Pippins. Daddy says they are actually vegetarians.
If I don't come back, tell Ginny I'll say hi to Fred. I hope everyone won't be angry with me.
Luna.
She's not at the table; she's already left.
-
"LUNA!"
Draco was sprinting towards her, looking displeased. She stopped and smiled at him.
"Hello! I've heard you calling my name."
His face was rather red. "Why didn't you – oh for fuck's sake, let's just go!" He grabbed her shoulder vaguely.
"Go where?" she asked.
"To the castle. Now!" He was pulling at her, quite unreasonably.
"I haven't found the Hallow y – "
"I don't bloody care! You'll get killed, or worse."
"I'm not scared of animals, Draco." Daddy had taught her that most monsters were just creatures with a bad name.
"Ani - are you really that stupid? Don't you know the Dark Lords took camp here?"
"Yes, that's why – "
"Don't you think they left wards? Curses?"
"Surely any wards would have dissolved when Voldemort died."
"They didn't at my house, Lovegood. We had to call the fucking Aurors to let the Healers in."
She blinked. "Healers? Were you ill, Draco?"
"Silencio!"
Draco was rude, really. She had never been unable to talk before.
"I'll put Imperius on you if you don't get moving. Just take the same path we took here..."
She didn't move and he made a growling sound.
"I don't care what you'll tell your little friends. It's not like Potter didn't use Unforgivables on anyone who pissed him off."
He had quite a nice chin, really.
"I should have told them you were here. I should have."
But his habit of arguing with himself was silly.
"I'm going back to the castle, Lovegood, and you can follow me if you want to. If not, I'll burn the note and act surprised when the centaurs bring out your skinless dead body."
She opened her mouth but no sound came out and he hissed.
"Finite Incantatem!"
She breathed deeply in relief. "You shouldn't be worried about me, Draco. I can take care of myself."
"You? Right. I saw you taking care of yourself at the Manor."
She nodded, pleased. "Yes, I think I did rather well. I survived, after all."
"Lovegood, I watched you talk back to Greyback until he wanted to eat your blank little face." His skin seemed a bit grey now. "I actually had to Obliviate him when he finally realised that there were ways to hurt you that wouldn't leave immediately recognisable marks."
"Yes, I remember that. I never thanked you for it." There had been so much to do since the war ended, and some important things were left out.
"What about that little romp in the Prefects' bathroom?" Draco asked, unhappily. "A fine Ravenclaw display of gratitude, I would say."
"That wasn't gratitude, Draco."
"Oh?"
"It was definitely not gratitude." She said it with special force. He was such an unreasonable boy!
"Oh."
They stood side by side for a while, looking at each other.
"Have you tried Summoning your holly-thing?" he asked, after he turned away.
"No. Daddy said it's important to find it – the journey of finding it. Not everyone is worthy of using the Hallows."
"And you are?"
"If I am, I will find it. If I don't find it, I'll know I am not."
He frowned. "Well, Potter found it, and he's not worthy of anything except spit."
"Harry saved –"
"My life. That doesn't mean I have to respect him."
Honestly, she thought it did, but she didn't say so. Instead, she continued.
"He saved a lot of people but I don't think that's why he found the Hallow. He said it was because he lost so many people and was ready to go join them."
Draco looked like he wanted to say something nasty, but he didn't. Instead, he stepped even closer and looked at her, sharply.
"Well, are you ready to die, Luna?"
Luna hesitated. What an odd question!
"I..."
Was she?
"It would be a wonderful adventure," she said but her voice wasn't so sure. It would be an adventure, she knew that, but there were so many adventures left here. Trees she'd never seen, animals she'd never touched, conversations she'd never had. And what about Daddy? He often got tremors since the war. Mrs Weasley promised to take care of him while she was at school, but if she never returned home, he'd be alone. But she didn't actually have to die, did she?
For the first time in a long, long while, Luna didn't know what to think.
"Maybe," Draco said, and his voice was softer than usual. "Maybe you could summon your mum – that's what you want, isn't it? – and talk to her, and even get back to Hogwarts in one piece. How long do you think it would be before you summoned her again? A week, a day?" His lips were set in a thin line. "You can't have them back. It's hardest when you think you can."
She pondered this. All she wanted was advice on Snorkacks... and Draco... and Daddy. But she was a Ravenclaw; she could figure it all out by herself. And anyway, Mummy would find a way to intervene before she did something really wrong. Mummy had been a Ravenclaw too.
"All right," she said, and smiled at him. "I'll come back with you. It's too early for this adventure yet."
He frowned. "What, the werewolves aren't out yet?"
"No, I don't really need it yet. In about seventy years, I think."
"Seventy?"
"Well, I can't tell for sure, obviously, so it might be eighty or even more. I have to do things first."
Draco half-smiled (it was nice) and shook his head.
"You're insane, but I don't suppose I'm any better, coming in here." He jerked his head towards the path they had taken here. "After you, Lovegood."
She held her hand out, like a lady, and was a bit surprised when he took it. Hogwarts was waiting for their return.
-
She'd let go of his hand minutes ago, and now she was skipping and babbling away about gathering Unicorn tail hairs for her friend Ollivander. For once, Draco didn't really mind: her absent-minded chatter was a far sight better than what she was like when she focused her mind on resurrecting rotting relatives.
"They are all very shy, but maybe more of them will come now that you're with me."
Draco snorted. "Unicorns like girls, Lovegood. In case you don't remember the anatomic details, I'm not a girl." She had been focused that night, focused on him, so that was different.
"They wouldn't mind, they'd think you're pretty."
"Wha - I am NOT pretty!"
"No, you're not. But equines have truly bad taste, I've always thought."
She then proceeded to share a surprisingly racy theory on the evolution of centaurs. It was ridiculous, but restful, and he caught himself actually smiling by the time they approached the grounds. He'd managed to convince Lovegood she was wrong! Neither Granger nor the Dark Lord had ever managed to reason with her – it was some kind of unique skill, like training Skrewts, probably.
They were running out of trees. They'd have to leave separately, discreetly, avoid being seen – the last thing he needed was detention or, worse, rumours. She seemed to know this, because she pulled him behind a thick oak tree and said:
"Thank you for this. And for that too."
He felt suddenly uncomfortable. "Let me go."
She didn't.
"And thank you for that night in the Prefects' bathroom, though I think we should thank each other."
She never made sense and never acted normal.
"You're welcome, Lovegood, now get off."
"No."
"No?"
"I want to do the things I've not had the chance to do. This is one." She kissed him.
They had kissed before, but that was more horizontal and it didn't make Draco feel like a foolish little girl with his back pressed against the tree. That's why he seized her and took lead – he had to have control, after all.
"Hey," he said, breaking off the kiss, "Lovegood. Are you – all right?"
You can't have them back. Would Luna change now? It wasn't an easy discovery. He remembered realising that his father was now a strange balding man with no pride, no wit and no gold. Not easy.
"Yes, I am. I will need to think, though."
He nodded, coughed. "Best get going then; I guess there's nobody outside."
She didn't appear to hear. "I also need to write Daddy a letter. It's – best to pay attention to who we do have, you know?" She smiled again, and it seemed less vapid then usual, though maybe he was imagining it. "I'll see you soon, Draco."
She walked away, suddenly serene, and didn't look back at him.
He waited. Who did he still have? Well, Mother. She was still here. The only useful thing he'd done in the war was to keep her company, and now he wasn't even doing that. He was too busy pretending the previous two years hadn't happened, but nobody else seemed willing to play along.
It had been a mistake, returning to Hogwarts. Potter hadn't, after all. Luna was equally out of place wherever she went, so it didn't matter for her. But Draco didn't belong here any more, he understood with sudden clarity, not in the Forest or the Prefects' bathroom or his dorm. He was supposed to be at home, helping Mother like he'd just helped Luna.
Maybe that was the reason he came back – to save one of their lot, and gain a... friend, he supposed she was. He'd done something right, finally. And it was time to return.
-
Luna,
I've received your notes. Apart from the doodles and that poem – did you write it? Of course you did, I don't suppose anyone else would rhyme joy with Silver-Scaled Fallamoy, whatever that's supposed to be – they seem to be proper. I am grateful. It's lucky, if somewhat disturbing, that we share so many NEWT classes. I'm surprised you never took Ancient Runes (for the last time, I do not want Granger's old notes. They're probably copied word-for-word from textbooks anyway), but I suppose Muggle Studies suit you too. I've been meaning to ask - what is the new Professor like? Is she really a Squib? I've heard rumours, but I don't want to believe Hogwarts has sunk that low.
I am also grateful for your discretion. Your little Weasley friend will have reason enough to mock when I come to take NEWTs with your year. I doubt the Headmistress will allow me to come in to take them separately. She seems to think that allowing me to finish school now is a favour in itself – I don't care. I am very glad to be out of there, there is absolutely nothing that I miss, I assure you.
Yours sincerely,
Draco O. Malfoy
PS: In response to your inquiry, my mother is definitely not in any kind of flower-cult. Or any cult that included Potter's mother, thank you, and I truly don't want to know where you got that idea. She is well, the trip to Sweden did her a lot of good. Father is the same as ever, happy with his new hobby, though he will be quite upset when he realises that no main-stream newspaper wants to print his musings on how The Mudbloods Started It. I omitted mentioning your dad (has the Weasley woman managed to poison him yet?), because I don't think that the Malfoy name appearing in the Quibbler would do either of our families any good.
Draco is fond of that owl. He wishes it a swift return.
