Luna Lovegood is always touching things. Every time she passes Draco in the corridors, her fingers brush the wall as she mindlessly skips. He can't help but watch her for a minute then forget where he was headed. When he sees her in the library, both of her hands are out, grazing the books on the shelves on either side of her. Not even looking like she was searching for a specific book. And it always seemed to happen while he was trying to study. When she's in class with him she takes her wand out from behind her ear and is constantly twirling it in her hands, thumbing at the smooth curves at the bottom. He tries to tell himself that was the reason he had failed his last Charms exam.

Normally, someone wouldn't give these simple gestures a second thought, so why did Draco? It was just so irritating. It was interfering with his life. But if he tried to justify this to anyone they would think he was crazy. Or worse: think he fancied Looney. He decided to try to ignore it.

Easier said than done. He shared most of his classes with her and she was hard to miss. More than once he had to restrain himself from standing up and shouting, "ENOUGH ALREADY!" But after a while he started noticing more. She always seemed to daydream but one day when she seemed particularly out of it, she dug her nails into her palm. And then her arm. Draco stared at her, perplexed. What was that about? He saw her take a couple of deep breaths and look around the Ravenclaw table. She was sitting alone on her end of the table so no one else noticed. When her eyes landed on him she smiled sheepishly. His eyes widened and he ran out of the Great Hall.

He did his best to ignore the nagging thoughts he had about the ditzy blonde but to no avail. He lay awake in the Slytherin dormitory, staring at the canopy of his bed. Why had she hurt herself? Why did she seem so scared? Why did he care?

He threw the covers off of himself and, putting on his robe, left the room. He didn't really know where he was going but he knew he wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon so he kept walking. He knew these corridors well by this point, being a 6th year, so he didn't need any light. Good thing too, because Filch could be anywhere and the people in the paintings are snitches. It would be a 1st year mistake and Draco was more cunning than that.

He walked up the stairs and into the owlery. The only time he could allow himself to visit this place was at night. Otherwise anyone could be up here: a professor, a younger student, or god forbid, Potter or one of his friends. There was a chill in the air and he could hear the howl of what he assumed was a werewolf. But he didn't mind. He liked the fresh air and the infinite stars just for his eyes. A particular sharp gust of wind rushed at him as he sat on the ledge and he thought he was losing his mind. It smelled like a mixture of fresh soil, clover, and sweets. He knew only one person that held that unique scent...and she happened to be lying on the ledge on the opposite end.

Luna was leaning against a pillar with her legs outstretched along the railing, one ankle tucked under the other. She wore an oversized, fluffy blue sweater and a short skirt to match. His eyes followed her legs to see she was wearing green/blue tights and silver ballet flats. Looking back to her face, he saw that her hair was pulled back in a purple bow and she wore her odd radish earrings. None of this seemed to be tasteful or go together in any way but it somehow worked on her.

She smiled when she caught his eye. "Hello, Draco." Her voice was barely heard. For a moment he tried to pretend that he hadn't seen or heard her but knew it was fruitless. He curtly nodded, not looking her way. "Lovegood." From the corner of his eye he could see her climb down and slowly make her way toward him. He started to back away and nonchalantly exit but she stopped and laid down in the middle of the floor, her blonde hair sprawled around her.

"You don't have to leave. I just couldn't sleep. I envy these beautiful creatures." She pointed above her and Draco glanced up and saw dozens of dozing owls in the rafters. "But, of course, if I had such an enchanting view I wouldn't be able to sleep here either. Then again, if I had wings I wouldn't want to sleep. Because I could go wherever I please and every moment I was awake would be like a dream. What dream would you like to fulfill, Draco?" She had been so lost in her ramblings that he thought she had forgotten he was even there and was about to make his escape.

He sighed. "I don't know what you're mumbling about, Lovegood, but I don't live in your ditzy dreamland. I live in the real world where not everything is unicorn horns and fairy wings. A world where there happens to be darkness and war and evil that is all-too familiar… So snap out of it for once in your life and wake up to reality." He started walking away.

"I don't know what that is anymore," came her soft voice. He stopped, huffed out a breath, and turned around.

"What do you mean?" he asked, impatient. Luna looked thoughtful and sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"I'm not sure what is real and what is made up. My mind likes to create these colorful lies to protect me from reality, which I know is bleak at best. But I have a defense mechanism that shields me from pain and sadness. Don't get me wrong, I feel sadness, I know dread, but, at times, I don't know what's real or magic." She looked up at him. "I don't know if you're real right now. I hope so. I like talking to you." Draco's eyes softened for a moment before scrunching back up again.

"Of course I'm real. It's those weird creatures you always talk about that no one's ever heard of. They're what's fake."

Luna smiled a little. "Maybe. But I have found ways to stay in the realm of reality when I have to and when to drift into a purgatory of here and 'la la land.' I can't always control it but it helps." She started drawing patterns on the floor with her fingertips. Draco knew exactly what she was talking about. That was why she was always touching things around her. The sensation told her it was real. He moved closer to her but still kept his space. Luna's head lulled to the side, a lopsided smile on her face.

"When I was born I was blind. For the first couple years of my life I relied on touch. My father had lost hope that I would ever see, but my mother never gave up. She taught me colors based on different feelings." She stood up and walked over to Draco. He backed up until his back hit the railing. She got into his personal space and, before he could say anything, she blew lightly on his neck.

"Blue. Cold feelings were always blue." She picked up a flower petal that had blown inside and brushed it lightly on his cheek. "Pink. Always soft feelings." She placed her mouth just below his chin and breathed out hot air. "Orange. Warm." He swallowed audibly. She reached up and lightly dragged her fingernails down his neck. "Red," she whispered, "Pain." Draco was in a daze and almost wanted to tell her he knew what she meant when she said she didn't know what was real. He didn't know, himself, at the moment. He didn't know why he hadn't just left her here. Or why he was letting her do this to him. But now she was walking back to the middle of the room.

"I used to have really horrid nightmares and when I woke up I didn't know if I they were still happening or if everything was okay. So I started feeling around for a sense of normalcy. Sometimes petting a soft pillow would help, sometimes it wouldn't be enough. So I started scratching at my arms or pinching myself. This assured me that I was awake. I stopped doing that after my parents saw the scars. Anyway, when my mum was killed in that horrible magical accident I was nearby and the force of the explosion knocked me out. I woke up a couple days later and I could see. None of the healers at St. Mungo's had an explanation as to how it had happened since they didn't know the experimental spell mum had used." She smiled fondly. "I may have lost my mother that day but I feel like she personally gave me the gift of sight and I cherish her gift everyday." Draco had been standing in awe at her story. So much so, that he hadn't noticed that he walked over and sat next to her.

"...So you still do it?"

She looked at him curiously. "Do what?"

"The pain thing. To help yourself know that you're awake."

"I haven't done anything drastic since I was younger. Only when it's really bad do I leave scars. But I mostly just discretely press my nails into my hand or arm or whatever is near. I do this when just simply touching things does not help." She shrugged and rested her chin on her knees. Draco stared at her, something mulling over in his mind.

"You know...you're gonna have to get that in check, the la la land thing, if you want people to stop making fun of you. You don't wanna be Looney-" he paused.

Luna giggled. "I know the name everyone gives me. And I'm okay with being Looney Lovegood. That doesn't bother me; I find it quite charming, actually. And I'm okay with dealing with my problem how I always have been. I'm quite good at helping myself when a problem arises. Not many people are willing to help." This made Draco angry.

"Well you must have some friends! What about Potter and his crew? Don't they care? Are they not as saint-like as they seem?"

"Oh no, they are all wonderful friends of mine. They just don't know about my problem. I don't want to bother them in any way. I don't want to go back to having no friends at all. They are the best of friends that I could ask for."

"If they were really that great they would have noticed you were suffering." Luna rested her hand on his, successfully making Draco uncomfortable.

"I don't think of it as suffering. It's more like a little road block at times. It always keeps me on my toes and it's never boring. But I don't doubt you know what true suffering is."

"What!?" Draco was taken aback in this change of topic.

"You say that evil is "all-too familiar." You speak from experience when you talk about the dark side of the world. I feel selfish, talking about my minor inconvenience when there is a tortured soul sitting right in front of me." Draco pulled his hand back.

"I am not your...your charity case. I don't want a pity party from you of all people!" He saw the hurt expression on her face and spoke a little softer. "Look, is my home life perfect? No. My family is made up of crazies and psychos and some of them are actually pretty dangerous. But I deal with it just fine. I keep it inside so I don't draw attention to myself."

"But didn't you just tell me I should go to my friends when I'm dealing with my problem? Speak out, Draco. Your voice won't fall on deaf ears." Draco scoffed.

"In my situation, when you speak out you get shot down and told to man up… or worse. Besides, I don't have close enough friends to talk about this kind of stuff with. Do you think Zabini or Crabbe or Goyle will still look up to me if I told them what I was going through? No, instead of fearing my power they would walk all over me. It's best to keep people at a distance-" Luna wrapped her arms around him and pulled his head to her chest.

"We are more alike than you can imagine. You keep people at a distance out of fear of seeming weak. I keep them at a distance for fear of seeming crazy." Draco was a little shocked at this kind of affection he wasn't used to getting. Maybe that's why he didn't pull away. He listened to the steady rhythm of her heart and took a deep breath through his nose. There was that earthy, sweet smell again. When she spoke again, the vibrations weirdly comforted him.

"Don't push me away, Draco. We can help each other. I know how scary it can be, trusting someone. But trust me, the result is magical. You just gotta let me in." He looked up at her. She tucked her chin down and angled her head to try and look into his eyes.

"We can help each other," he repeated. The tears filled his eyes but he refused to let them escape. Luna nodded but he barely registered it because he kept staring at her lips…

No. No. He was not gonna kiss her. Not now…