Before- September of 1990
Draco stared frowning at the broomstick lying upon the grass. His opened palm was directed to the limp wood, waiting for it to command what he says. However, he was getting really impatient. It was already past two in the afternoon and he had been trying to activate the broom for the past thirty minutes already. Still, so far, it was far from his hand.
"Up"
His command, although forced and powerful, was limp to the broom. It shook quietly, but it always failed to rise from the ground.
"Have some connection with it Draco, maybe it just needs a little coaxing," the girl with huge odd looking spectacles and wild hair said. It might be extremely bizarre to follow her suggestion, seeing that she looked as if she was not from their world- nonetheless from earth, but he ushered her to show off. "I would like to see you try then, if it looked so easy for you," they were friends for quite a while now, and he was still strangely alive.
The girl smiled despite the heavy specs that might be awfully discomforting to wear. Her little feet carried her to his station, the grass cuts seem to shy willingly as her toes meet them.
"I think you don't need to force it Draco, you just have to be comfortable with it." Her hand slid to his strained one, her nimble fingers applying pressure to his muscles. He glanced sideways to her face, his eyes searching for hers'. Despite the huge glasses upon her nose, he saw the eyes behind it and they were bright and encouraging, egging him to try again. Gentle, they said. Believe.
He sighed and let her touch connect to him as if a thread that binds them together. From the nerves of his hand, her energy crept up to his puzzled brain. Her power massaging the tensed muscles to relaxation.
Up.
Bear with me.
"Please." His voice lowered a tone gentler, the word felt foreign in his mouth. Luna gently lets go of his hand and watched him with interest, not an ounce of worry in her seemingly permanent placid face. Besides the calmness of his voice, his hand tilted up, as if offering a hand to a troubled soul. He felt submissive, quite out of his element.
Slowly, the broom lift itself from the ground, shaking, trembling with the newfound power that ushered them to life.
Draco's smile stretched wide, his heart leaping with joy. In comparison of his heart, the girl also jumped, clapping both of her hands as she felt excited for her best friend.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Lets ride it then"
"Are you planning on getting us both killed?" He looked at her ad if bewildered. Immediately, he grasped the broom tightly, holding it against him for the fear that she might grab it from him and suddenly whisk away.
"You said you haven't tried flying it more than hips high and I think this is an opportunity to try. If not now, then when would that be?"
"That's non of your business Luna-"
"But your thinking about it Draco, what's holding you back?" She glanced at his flexing hands. One look from his face, he knows she already had the clue for her question. He squirmed from her scrutiny, feeling submissive and uncharacteristically insecure.
"Even better reason to go on," she said, as if he already voiced out his reason "there's not a thing to be ashamed off Draco! I for one do not know how to swim. I would try to jump in your lake someday. Probably tomorrow, I am still uncertain. It depends upon the creatures lurking in it, if they would have me that is."
"If we both die, just remember I told you so"
"Ok point taken Draco. Though we would not die just yet"
"How could you be so sure?"
"Just cause"
"Just cause?"
"Yes"
He groaned but he found himself surrendering to her suggestion anyway.
It was probably to shut her up.
Yes.
Okay.
He slung himself to the handle, grabbing the top with both hands. Luna, who's eyes were being hidden by her ridiculous accessory, looked more excited and more than ready for the ride.
She stopped mid step as she stared at him.
"What?"
"I would like to sit in front Draco"
"Why?"
"I'm afraid you have to wait"
He rolled his eyes and scooted over, presenting her the top half of the broomstick. She happily obliged, the thick glasses of the specs she's wearing glistened with the sun's rays.
As if on reverse position, Luna was the one who's hands were wrapped on the handle this time.
"Wait for what?"
"Good afternoon Mister Malfoy, welcome to the fear management class with your professor, miss Luna Lovegood. Now, please warm up this spectacles for me and see with your ears open wide alright?" Just when she placed the huge eyewear to his eyes, his whole surroundings went pinkish in hue. Also, the things scattered around such as the trees and the bushes turned quite blurry, swirling with bluish aura or probably with energy.
"How in Merlin's pants can you see in this? Luna what are you-"
Luna stomped her foot down and immediately, the broom tilted and carried them off of the ground. Out of sheer panic and remembering just who's handling the broom, he pushed his arms hurriedly on both her sides, grasping the hint of wood between her tummy and her hands.
The spectacles stayed glued upon his face. As heavy as it looked, it was quite comfortable atop the nose and ears, it was incredibly soft and light weight.
Though still, he was having such trouble operating the broom. All he sees were strands of hair and blue particles.
A rush of soft wind blew around his face, caressing him into a cold embrace. He could already feel that his feet was nowhere near the ground and expectingly, he panicked.
"What now Draco? I haven't tried riding a broomstick before you know"
"What-what now? I cannot see with this bloody thing! Oh bloody bullocks, we're actually going to die"
"Not when you're going to save us from this. Hmm, yes. You will, just listen to my directions okay?"
They were really going to die weren't they? Directions plus dreamy Luna Lovegood plus panicking Draco is not a good formula. His father would kill him double dead if he'll find his death was a result of his reckless actions. Oh why on earth did he even let her lead him to that kind of trap?
He tightened his grip around the broom. He feared that if he loosened them, his slippery palms would slip and he'll fall to his death. His heart was beating really fast, probably the most it ever did. He did not care if Luna could feel his panic right away, his main goal was to manage living through such risky stunt.
Strangely, Luna had the nerve to raise both of her hands off of the handle and lead them to his shivering ones. It was clear that she was not affected by their situation at all. He wouldn't even be surprised if she could stand and perform gymnastics as he would eventually die out of sheer panic.
He screamed once her hands moved. The broom temporarily went shaky and their speed doubled. As soon as the speed turned to a dramatic change, the broom tilted down, rotating them as they both feel their heads hanging down and hair strands standing.
Draco felt Luna's hands tighten their grip against his, and instinctively, his arms squeezed her inside, protecting her from the possibility of falling. Questions be damned, they needed not to let one of them fall.
Luna, with all the might inside her system, put all her strength to her side in an attempt to shift them back to their place. "Draco-" he obliged without instructions, he edged as well, bobbing to their right as the broom flipped.
"Luna-"
"Shift left, turn left now, Draco"
He felt leaves slap across his cheek the moment he swerved sharply. They stung quite a little bit, but the panicky feeling inside his chest went numb and an adrenaline rush replaced it instead.
Thankfully, as a substitute to his sensitive skin, their direction and the leaves decided to change their victim and lapped with the violent rush of air that the two children caused. Somewhere in the far distance, he felt laughters pealing. Judging by his scratching throat, the sounds actually came from his heaving chest; the heart inside his chambers was beating loudly in his ears as well.
"Now, right. Yes, another one." The girl in front of him was still composed. Oddly enough, her voice did not falter one bit. Not even when they almost gotten themselves killed. She still continued giving him directions, though as to where? He does not know. Somewhere inside his lurking thoughts, his inner dialogue answered him about how much he trusts Luna Lovegood.
And it was probably right.
What harm would that lead anyway? Luna was purely good, sometimes he felt as if he was selfish to chain her to him.
He felt as if he trapped her to him.
His surroundings turned purely pink, no shade of blue was in sight.
"I would take that off of you now" She shifted against him, her eyes shining in sparkling blue against all the pink hue surrounding him. He was speechless, finding nothing to say to her. But she seemed to be not baffled by his silence though, she in return, removed her troubling eyewear from his vision.
Once removed, he stared at her face. It was probably the adrenaline that pumped him to feel as if his heart was racing as her smile stretched itself. It was the very first time he felt that shift of rise and fall, near to death experience after all; his head must've been wracked too hard.
He removed his gaze and stared at the sky filled of low clouds. His mouth widen and Luna chuckled with his reaction. The sky cottons were terribly low, he felt as if he could touch them if he raised his hand. Underneath them, just a few inches below their feet was a huge calm lake, their pale skin illuminating from the little light shining randomly against its body.
He cannot reach the puffs and his feet were still dry, but he felt surreal though.
"Congratulations Draco. I believe we temporarily died and went to Heaven. This is not much of a bad aftermath isn't it?" She shifted as well, her feet were dangling underneath the broomstick. He chuckled back, his words were stuck, locked in his vocabularies for a moment.
"Do not jump yet Luna"
"No, I am afraid we have dosed ourselves with too much Heaven for now"
Her hand squeezed his' and he squeezed back. The thread that looped its way around their hands tightened. He could feel her much closer to him. If it was possible, he felt as if he could trust her with anything. It was dangerous, he was taught not to depend on someone, but Luna was different. She was his friend, and she made it pass the point that she could even risk her life just to help him face his fear.
"Luna? Thank you"
"What for?"
"Don't push it"
After- June of 1996
The room was quiet. Much so that he could feel his ragged breathing bounce to the intrigued walls. It was also huge, just a shy away from the Great Hall's spacious capacity.
He did not know how he successfully entered it, knowing it was supposedly saint Potter's little room of nonsense. Yet, he did. He ushered himself in, demanding entrance to some place, anywhere he could sulk in just to finally allow himself to let loose his restrain.
It was quiet, except for the selfish beating of his heart. He assumed he was alone.
Yes. He is, isn't he?
His fist clenched his wand, his knuckles turning sharp and defined against his skin.
When he received the letter from his mother, anger aroused in his system. He did not care if Potter was mourning. How could people even support such a selfish boy? Just because he was the golden favorite did not mean he was all holy. Quite a biased overrated hypocrite, that he is. He always leave Draco with humiliation. He digs the boy's grave with the hands of manipulated fools for shovels. He ruined his life. As well as his family's. His poor, poor mother.
The room casted a looming shadow, eating half of the room with it's ferocious darkness.
He stood still in his spot, his eyes indescribable with the searing hot pain that threatens to leave. He only stared, his gaze as vicious as his teeth that were clashing to one another. He was 'not' sad. He wanted something to hurt. He wanted to blame anything, destroy something.
It was unfair. It was not right for him to feel such- such weakness.
From behind him, a small sound emitting from heavy doors closing could be heard, though still ignored by the ringing shells of his tinted ears. It was not that he was distracted, he grew up being cautious after all. But he, however, is a liar, delusional, body filled with pride no matter what angle. He once again, ran away from what was truly handed to him by reality that he tries so hard to avoid. That he could honestly want to change.
A petite and pale blonde Ravenclaw stood awaiting for his reaction. Her arms, her fragile little limbs were steadied to the the direction of his frame, as if deciding- uncertain. She was sad, terribly sad and quite scared, scared of probably what he was capable of doing. She was no idiot, she knew there was something he must've felt when he found out she was there. He was sad. He was angry. And so she became cautious, her movements were planned, if it was possible, quite softer than her usual lightweight actions.
As if trapped in a cage long forgotten by the world, a drench of fresh air was bewildering. A caveman alarmed and accusing.
Slow, steady, questionable hands touched the cold flesh of his arms. Like a functioning heart, the room throb one tug, lightening the lonely room. Though as quick as it came, it vanished. His eyes turned into slits and his anger stilled. He knows that touch too well.
He swat her hands away, his movements too sharp, there was a light snap that triggered the two connected bones in his surprised elbows.
Her hands backed away, halting to the space between them. There was a chord that snapped, their connection cut. The distance became somewhat wider and his thoughts were louder.
"Draco" His name upon her persuasive tongue left a bitter scent in the air. All the suppressed accusations were piling up upon his own sharp one.
He did not bugger, his eyes stayed as the light and shadow fought in the vast area in front of them.
"Please speak to me." She looked as if she was hurt. Though probably, Potter trained her to look so vulnerable. He scoffed mockingly, the wand in his hand was burning with his restrain.
He raised the wand in his hand and flicked it to a form that sharply resembled incendio. The red hot anger landed on the innocent pillar close to him. He watched as he ignored the searing warmth surrounding it.
She uttered his name again. Her melodic, soft little voice joining the crackling of fire that danced with the smoke. The fire wrapped her pale silhouette with a harsh glow, her ethereal being looked aloof. It seemed unreal. She seemed to look like the embodiment of deception.
Dainty.
Deadly.
"What do you want Lovegood?," he spatted before muttering the same incantation to the other pillar.
"You need me, Draco. Is that not what this room is? To provide for you?"
Fire bombarded the cold, penetrating silence. It was as if it was in sync with the hidden tugs inside his chest, crackling and flowing like a beating heart. Despite the overwhelming atmosphere and the perspiration that began to formulate on his pores, he flinched more profoundly when he felt her presence, her strong lingering gentleness, come closer.
"Why would I need you?"
"Perhaps, you need a friend?"
He scoffed. Quite ironic.
"I get on just fine without that"
"It gets a little messy trying to carry laundry with just two arms"
"House elves can do better than, I don't know, lousy traitors"
"Traitors you say? Though why would you lend something private to a traitor?"
Because they are angels who, for a few glances and shared conversations, made you feel something. They lingered far enough in your life, you would somehow think you can be comfortable with them. Yet, it turned out, you do not mean a single dime, or a dust to such glorious creatures.
'She would leave you just when you thought she won't'
"Because you trusted them once. Such a foolish choice" His father was right. He knew about people like her. Of course she would grow tired of him, why on earth would she stay and act as if she was his conscience if he left that same room he locked her in? If he was in her place, he would do the same thing.
Still..
The fire was thrashing all around the untouchable pillar, demanding and angry.
They took his father.
He woke up in the midst of a comfortable dream. He was not that little boy who takes comfort in loneliness anymore. He was forced to live in it, with no keys to the locks that filled all around the dark and cold chamber.
"Draco-"
She insisted once again.
"Stop this Lovegood"
"Draco-"
Against the warmth of the fierce flames, he shivered from the cold liquid that left his eyes. He felt nervous, drenched to the core; cold water was poured to his cowering frame. He was unprepared, but he was left alone to deal with all of it.
He knows she knows. If she was smart enough, she could have left him then, could have walked away from the dirt her own friends dug for that obnoxious boy from Slytherin. Instead, she insisted. Her own hand found its way in the tight mess of the one that's holding his wand.
The two sides of the thread snapped, their connection touched faintly. The fire was blazing in front of them and his mind clicked.
"You call yourself a friend," his voice was hoarse and his face must've been in the middle ground of sadness and condemnation "and yet you helped 'him'"
His wand tumbled from his hand, rolling like a helpless stick being kicked by an oblivious foot. Lovegood caught up with it and kneeled just to pick the weak wood with her hands.
"Go on, fight me like how Potter showed you. Bet your little boy friend would be so ecstatic when he finds out you'd do the same with the death eater's son. Bet you'd be happy to retell him about how weak and unreliable he was, won't you? That would be quite a snog to look forward to"
Somewhere in that middle ground, the night sky of logical reasoning whispered. He knows he has no right to accuse her of such thing. He ended their friendship after all. Yet in the spun of the moment he cannot blame anybody but her. It was incredibly hard not to blame himself when his father had already warned him about her but some force still cloths her with the younger version of herself's earnest quality.
"I won't do that to you, Draco. I am your friend. Still. Always"
There are certain things that need to be done
Even if it means it has to hurt you
Sacrifices
Did he not do it enough?
"I am sorry, Draco"
Her arms around him. One innocent wand behind his back, ready to aim. Two pillars set on both sides of them, fiery and vicious. He could push them along with the downfall that erupted in his body. He was strapped to the pillars of anger and blame he relinquish himself in. She was there, his father painted her to be treacherous. But he came running back to the comfort he was so afraid to lean on. She was comfort, she was his heroine.
"Why must you meddle in? Why must you make me feel this?"
She always looked as if she meant every single thing she does and says.
She did worse, much worse than what Potter did to him.
She made him trust her. And in a way, she's making him feel so confused for still believing, for still needing her.
His poor father. Her new, contrasting friends.
She let go without the curse leaving from her mouth, or the tip of his wand behind his back. Instead, his wand was back inside his fist, her cold hand wrapped around it.
"There's no such thing as right and wrong in loyalty, Lovegood. You've picked your bed, go lie in it."
He was hardened like a warrior who only had his pride left for him. It was clear upon her chapped lips and faint scratches that she took a path much further than his. Maybe she was at the pinpoint of her faith in him. He made it look as if he does not intend to wait for her after all.
If that was to happen, then so be it.
He does not need her.
He does not care.
He hates her.
He should.
He left her watching him as he walk out of the destruction he made and she partially began. His dangerous Delilah glued to the ruins of their rendezvous. Although he was fully awoke, he was blinded by the clouds of deception.
He found himself asking of whom it was exactly from.
"You always wanted to make him proud. He is, I think"
Her voice, a soft linger to the air, a sting in the cages of his chest.
The fog became thick at the top of his head. Even though the room was closed, the shadows and her words lingered, barely touching him, but swallowing him with mocking giggles. The darkness, though he became comfortable of, looked aloof without a single moon appearing from it.
How was it? My apologies for the grammatical errors and misspelled words. Please do leave a review :)