Lovegood was stupid. There was no other fact but that running through Draco Malfoy's mind as they dueled. Stupid… and lucky. Just like the rest of Potty's little friends. What spells had she used that proved effective? Which were part of the repertoire of an advanced wizard? The answer to both his questions were simple through his frustration. None, neither. All were easy, first and second year spells, and the only thing they succeeded at doing was irritating him.

But she was a rather good dueler, he had to admit that. Each spell was sent at a whirling speed, one right after another. Luna Lovegood, whirlwind of magic. Easy, boring spells spoken quickly and crisply: Avis, Rictumsempra, Jelly-Leg Jinx; they progressively got closer to his face, his hair, his limbs. And even still, she refused to kill him when she had the opportunity. There were plenty of chances, of course, yet Luna had began to cast them away. She didn't care that he was ready to die.

And so it went, the ongoing battle staying an uneven shade of grey. Neither of them had the advantage, nor would they ever find out who had won.

"Lovegood," the older boy began, casting a rather nasty jinx towards her. Though he had the slight opening for a kill, Draco was most certainly not going to waste his energy right then and there, in the beginning of the battle. "Are you even-"

His words were cut off by a sudden explosion, the right hand wall of the library caving in, dust and rocks falling to the ground. And it seemed to happen in slow motion. They both turned their heads, the curse rebounding off an unseen shield, the same protection falling immediately. Shock, anger, and confusion were evident on their faces, blending into one simple emotion that reigned above the rest. The largest: fear.

Fear of death, of the unknown. Fear of losing their loved ones. Fear of failure. And then it happened. Debris fell onto their bodies, covering up what words, screams, and feelings they shared. Gone, everything, in such fast seconds that only a soft whimper was heard before the world had come crashing down. And from the dark abyss of rock, it was all Draco could do from shrieking with the large emotion of fear.

Blood.

Crimson blood. Her blood. The blood that kept her alive, now running over him, her tangled body dropped like a stone across his legs. Light blonde hair, tinged with blood. Her uniform, red and frayed. And her dreamy face, awash with the liquid, cuts and scratches adding to her marred demeanor. Blood, coming from her mouth, spilling out easily. Her eyes glazed over, and began to cease their focus. Luna was dying.

And suddenly he understood. He knew why she talked, what she felt, how she managed to live. How and why they all teased her- and why she was able to take it. As well as the little urge to kill him… Draco felt it all.

And now she was dying.

"No," he croaked. "No, no, no. Luna…Lovegood. Wake up."

Scrambling to push the debris off of her body, Draco gently hurried to find her wand, the crash having knocked it from her pale and graceful hands. Find it, find it Draco. And then he did, lodged cross shaped on top of his mother's.

And 'X'. 'X' marks the spot. Draco cracked a weak smile, climbing piles of rocks to grasp both. But then his short lived laughter was over, replaced with a silent fear and anxiety.

She was dying.

Quicker was his path back to her, using magic to clear a spot. And there she lay, bleeding and silent.

"Think, Draco, think. Th…" It had come to him. He would have to save her, obviously, by taking her with him. But no, Potty would be mad, and Luna would be upset, and then he would have to deal with that. So he would heal her, then, and run? Less noble, but smarter.

Now… what would he need? Dittany, spells, books… time. All of which he did not have. "Accio Dittany," the wizard whispered, his eyes hooding in concentration, attempting to care less about the task. But he could not not care. He was already emotionally attached. Curse this. Curse this, curse her, curse Him. Curse them all. As he thought this, Draco worked quietly on the paling girl, switching back and forth from spells to potions. It had to work.

It had to.

And it did. Luna flickered her eyes open gently, staring up at the star ridden sky with glassy orbs. Seeing, but not realizing. The man before her smirked triumphantly, taking this moment to do what he should have done years earlier. He should have realized, should have known. Pressing his lips to hers quietly, Draco Malfoy gave the dazed witch a brief tweak on the nose as well, laying her head back gently as he swept out of the room.

It worked.

She was alive.

He had grown up.