Summary: He didn't know why he asked her out the first time and had even less idea why he did it again and again. Lovegood was peculiar and not his usual type. But she was there and had agreed and somehow, they worked. They worked surprisingly well, until that summer day in Central Park.
Prompts:
2 – Red nails
3 - "Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you."― George R.R. Martin, "Game of Thrones"
5 – Dialogue: "Let's go somewhere a bit less dull,"
Word count: 2006
Betaed by: purple-psychopath
Disclaimer: Nothing that can be recognized belongs to me.
That Summer Day
(or From Paris to New York)
September 5th 1998
Where Is Draco Malfoy?
Former Death Eater and heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy, Draco Lucius Malfoy, has been unaccounted for since his trial. When questioned, the Lady Malfoy was suspiciously tight-lipped and only said that her son has decided to explore the world.
Is that true? What is really happening? And most importantly, where is Draco Malfoy? (for more information see p.3)
16th July, 2002
"Let's go somewhere a bit less dull," she had proposed on that sunny day and in retrospect Draco should have realized at that moment that their relationship was over. Not once had she ever wanted to go somewhere else in the middle of a date. Admittedly, the date was nothing special, just the two of them drinking coffee in a small old coffee shop in Bucklin, but it had never happened before. He should have realized it then and perhaps he had, secretly hoping he was wrong.
Their relationship was a strange one, Draco would be the first to admit that, but it was nice. Nice… since when did a Malfoy settle for nice? Even so, he felt content with her. They had this strange companionship, this closeness that he had only felt with his family. Luna (Loony) Lovegood was hardly his type, but for some reason they worked.
They had gone on one date, then on another and on another until one day she woke up in his apartment in Budapest next to him, kissed him lazily on the lips and went to the bathroom to take a shower. He had then realized that most of her belongings were in fact there. Draco just burrowed his head into the soft pillow and slept for another hour or so.
One day, almost a year ago, he had been browsing a magical bookstore in Paris when he had seen her. She had changed very little from their time in Hogwarts (he refused to think of her stay in Malfoy Manor). Her hair was not as long, its tips barely brushing her shoulders now, and her face had matured a little, no longer having this surprised look all the time. Luna still wore those strange accessories (he couldn't remember what ridiculous thing she had hung on her neck and ears that day), her eyes still held that dreamy look and her clothes were still somehow off.
Draco wasn't quite sure what exactly made him go and talk to her, but he did. The bookstore, which name now escaped him, had armchairs spread all over the place next to the store-high windows with small antique wooden coffee tables for each three. Luna had been sitting on one of them, her legs hanging off one of the arms and her head resting on her left and as she slowly read the book in her lap. There had been something eerie in that otherwise normal image and for the life of him, Draco couldn't say what exactly.
"May I sit here?" he had asked pointing at the chair in front of hers.
"Yes, Draco Malfoy, you may," she had answered in that soft dreamy voice of hers without taking her eyes of the large tome as she turned a page.
Draco had simply stood there, trying and failing to read the book he had selected for himself. It was a rare edition of Simon Beauvais' 'Dreams in the Snow'. It had been his favorite play since he had seen it for the first time at the tender age of six. This copy was one of the first ever published and he had spent several moths looking for it. And now, after he had finally managed to obtain it, he found he could not concentrate on the words because of the strange creature near him.
"What are you doing here? In Paris I mean?" had asked Draco several minutes later, unable to stand the silence any longer and long since abandoned any hope of getting immersed in the lives of Desire and Claude.
"I wanted to travel and Daddy thought it was a good idea," for once her answer had been straightforward. They hadn't known each other very well during Hogwarts, her being younger and Ravenclaw and then with the war things never got better, though he apologized for her 'brief stay' in the Manor's 'less comfortable rooms'.
After Saint Potter had testified for Draco at his trial and with a small 'donation' the Ministry had let him go free. Draco did not return to the old castle for an 'eighth year' as some people did. He studied at home, took his NEWTs and left the country. For the past three years, he had been traveling from country to country throughout Europe and Asia until he found himself in Paris.
"The Nargles agreed as well," the absurdity of the statement had nearly sent Draco into a laughing fit.
"Say, Lovegood, do you want to go out with me tonight? We can have dinner," he didn't know what compelled him to say those words and was even more surprised when she had finally taken her eyes off that thick book and looked straight at him. Her protuberant eyes had started at him, unblinking, for several long moments, before she blobbed her head and turned her attention to her read.
"I will pick you up at seven from here?" Draco had offered awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. She only nodded one more time and turned another page. He had stayed there for several more minutes before standing up and exiting the bookstore with his new purchase.
If one were to ask him what he remembered of their first date he would say red nails. Strange, yes, but the color of Luna's manicure was the one thing he remembered clearly from that night. Oh, he could describe the restaurant and if pressed to remember he might recall the dishes they had had and even the color of her out-of-place dress (dark purple), but the first thing would always be her red nails.
She had red nails when she asked him to go somewhere a bit less dull. They had been together for almost a year and never once did she paint her nails red after their first date; green, blue, pink, yellow, white, black, grey and all other colors and shades, but never red, not after that summer night in Paris. The closest they had gotten to that color was in the nightclub in Toronto, but when the couple returned to the penthouse they resided he realized that it had been a trick of the light. Her nails had been in a dark shade of pink.
The two apparated to Central Park and Draco followed Luna as she headed to the Pond. The man-made lakes were her favorites from New York but for some reason she preferred this one.
They sat on one of the benches and simply watched the shimmering water and ducks in front of them. Draco was used to the silence by now. Luna was not the kind of person who would chatter for hours without a reason and sometimes, when she found a conversation boring, would simply stop listening. He liked that quality in her. The blond girl (for he could not bring himself to think of her as a woman, like he still considered himself a boy) was peculiar but had one of, if not the kindest heart in the world. She perceived things around her in a way different from the rest and that led to people often mistaking her for stupid.
"Do you think I can find some Dabberblimps at the bottom of the Pond, Draco?" asked Luna.
"I doubt it, love. It is not an actual lake, after all."
"Still, they might be there, waiting for someone to greet them."
"Maybe," Draco smiled at her and hugged her closer to him. Luna laid her head on his chest and sighed dreamily, her eyes looking at the Pond but not really seeing it. He knew she was imagining meeting her nonexistent creatures. He loved that about her. That innocence she had somehow preserved, even after the war, especially after the war. He himself felt different, more than a boy and yet, less than a man.
The sweet aroma of Luna's strawberry shampoo engrossed him the second he buried is nose into her dirty blond hair. Another change in her, up until a week ago her shampoo had smelt of roses. She was changing he could see that. Little by little, she was changing. She was still Luna, though she will always be Luna.
"I am going back home," her soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Something in way she said 'home' made him instantly realize she wasn't talking about the house in the Hamptons they had rented for the duration of their stay in the area.
"You are going back to Britain," it was not a question and Luna did not feel the need to say 'yes'.
"I miss my friends and Daddy," there was longing in her voice. Longing he had first heard at the shores of Rhodes when she had talked about her mother Serena's love for the sea. "You can come with me," she offered, still staring at the Pond. "It is your home as well."
Was it, though? Was Britain his home still? After he had fled and spent years traveling the world, rarely writing a letter to his parents and friends. Draco could imagine going back there; he could almost see the sneers directed at him for being a 'slimy Death Eater' and a 'bribing evil scum'.
"I can't," he whispered to her, hating himself for admitting his weakness, for admitting his cowardice even if it was to the one closest to him.
"You can, Draco Malfoy, but you won't," it was easy to write off Luna as crazy, but if one were to stop and listen he or she would be hard-pressed to find someone wiser. Even that Mudblood Granger wasn't as smart as the seemingly fragile girl he now held in his arms.
"Makes no difference," murmured he with his mouth hidden in her hair, breathing deeply its scent.
"You are who you are, Draco Malfoy," she said, figuring out the problem easier than anyone else could, even his mother. "Don't ever forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you," how could someone so young, so fragile-looking, so out-of-the-world could be so wise, he would never understand.
"I am still not coming," he said stubbornly. It was too soon and he was too afraid.
"I know, the Nargles told me so. Still, I had hoped…" Luna trailed off, discontinuing her sentence. She shifted a little in his arms and looked at him. "I will miss you," the blond whispered, their faces so close that their lips almost touching. All he needed to do to kiss her was lean in.
"I will miss you too, love," and he kissed her; long and hard and sweet and sad. 'Goodbye, Draco Malfoy,' she was saying. 'Goodbye, love,' he was answering.
When they broke apart after eternity and a moment, they stayed together. Her head resting on his shoulder, his arms enclosed around her.
Soon, too soon, she left his embrace and with one last long look disapparated from Central Park. Draco stayed for hours on the bench, staring at the Pond. He knew that once he returned to the house she would be gone. Luna, the girl he might have loved, but never got the chance to find out.
December 21st, 2002
War Heroes Finally Together
Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom are finally together. The new couple was seen holding hands during a romantic stroll in London. Sources confirm that they are madly in love and plan to attend the annual Ministry Yule Gala together. (for more information see p. 8)