This chapter switches to Luna's point of view. I'll admit that it was a little difficult to get inside her head, but I did my best. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Day 2

Warmth seared his eyelids as he lay in the grass the next morning. His eyes fluttered open, but he immediately had to cover them because they were looking directly at the sun. He turned his head and saw dry grass and an empty plate. He bolted up to a sitting position and stared at the fields around him, slightly confused for a moment.

"Oh… right," he breathed as he ran a hand down his face, trying to wake up. He had conjured himself a cot to sleep on, since he did not want to sleep in the same house as Luna Lovegood, and he hoped that someone would come to retrieve him during the night. He needed to be present so he could leave without Luna knowing.

He pulled out his wand, pointed it to his chest and muttered, "Scourgify." A cool blast of freshness ran through him. He ran a hand through his feathery blonde hair. It felt as if he had just taken a shower. That would rid him of any grime or somesuch that came in contact with him during the night.

He stared around a bit and noticed that the sun was just a bit over the horizon. It must be around seven o-clock. He looked back at the wood-and-stone shack. He noticed Luna looking through a window at him, but she didn't budge when he saw her, like most people would. She just smiled. He turned away and huffed through his nose. He might as well go inside and out of the grass and dirt.

As he walked up the path to the house, his mind flashed to the dream he had during the night. Screams and flashes of light… Helena and Luna side-by-side fighting Draco, pointing their wands at him. Green light spewed from his wand and hit Helena in the chest, sending her lifeless body back onto the stone floor. He looked down at his green hand and long nails, gripping his wand, and pointing it at Luna.

"Please!" she screamed. "Spare me!"

He hissed a laugh and shouted the killing curse, hitting her in the head. He cackled and looked over into the mirror on the wall. Bald, green head, bright red eyes, and slit nose.

He was the Dark Lord. Evil. Merciless. A monster.

Draco shook his head as he felt vile rise in his throat. He shook those dark thoughts away as he took the few steps up to the house, his shiny black shoes clicking the stone as he went. He got to the wooden door and rose a fist to knock. He wouldn't just barge in—he knew that much of manners. His eyes darted to the bush right next to the door, one with levitating plums attached by vine to it. There was a sign that read "Keep off the dirigible plums." Draco's nose twitched.

The door suddenly opened, and Draco jumped at the surprise. He put his hand down and stood in a dignified manner.

"I saw you walk up," Luna said, her whole person dirt-free, and her long, kinky blonde hair traveling down passed her waist. "I saved you the trouble of knocking." She looked over to the plums. "You may have one if you like. I saw you looking at them. They are quite delicious."

He huffed through his nose. "No, thank you."

Luna moved aside and indicated with her arm that he could come in. He walked into a circular room that had a small spiral staircase going up to the next floor, right in the center of the room. One half of the circle, most likely the living room, had a leather chair, sofa, and desk and small side tables, all of which were covered with several papers and books. There was a small stone fireplace in between the sofa and leather chair, and a window above the sofa, letting morning sunlight in. The other half of the circular had multi-colored pink, blue, yellow and green counters and cupboards, and a window above the sink. That was probably the kitchen area. The walls in that half seemed painted in a mural of yellow and blue.

Draco's nose twitched at the circle-room. This is the Lovegood home, a place he never even dreamed of walking into, and it was about as big as a broom cupboard in the manor.

"Make yourself comfortable," he heard Luna say. "The house looks a bit different than before—the living room was upstairs and the kitchen was on this floor. It seems that your spell to erect the house again changed it. But I don't mind."

Draco ignored that as his eyes darted around the living room half and thought it better to just stand, rather than sit in the ratty brown leather sofa or chair. His eyes stopped on a moving picture on the mantle above the fireplace. He found himself stepping closer to the picture, which was in a wooden frame that had pink and purple flowers etched into it. The sun hit the picture causing the person in it to illuminate. She had long, wavy blond hair going past her waist, she was slim and curvy, and had a broad smile on her triangular face. Her eyes were a deep blue, and seemed to shine from the sunlight hitting the picture. Draco had to hold his breath for a moment. He's seen handsome women before, but this woman was beautiful.

"My mother," Luna said next to him as she suddenly stood next to him. "Beautiful, isn't she?"

Draco looked away from the picture at that question, but glanced back at it again. He couldn't help it.

"When we have guests over, they always stop to look at her," Luna explained. "Especially the men."

Draco felt his cheeks heat up, embarrassed that Luna Lovegood noticed him ogle over a picture. Of her mother no less. Yet he still couldn't tare his gaze off it. He has heard his father talk of the Lovegoods before, but he has never mentioned a mother, just a father and daughter living alone.

"You're wondering what happened to her," Luna surpised, practically reading his thoughts. "Well, she was a witch who loved to experiment with new spells. Unfortunately, one of her spells went dreadfully wrong. I was only nine, and was there in the room when it happened."

For some reason, Draco felt his heart lurch. This beautiful woman... is dead? And Luna witnessed the death? He glanced at her gazing at her mother's picture, not a hint of sadness on her face. How does she keep all the emotion in? If she does at all… Merlin, he couldn't imagine losing his mother, the only person who really cares about him…

"I have seen your mother before," he heard Luna say, and he darted his eyes to her. "In Diagon Alley."

"When?" he asked, truly curious.

"A few years ago. I remember she was with you, probably helping you get school supplies. I remember stopping and gazing at her. She was tall and very beautiful, and walked with such grace and confidence, like she could take on anything. I remember wanting to be like her when I grew up." She smiled. "I guess she became a kind of role model for me."

Draco stared at her in disbelief. His mother? A role model? And for her?

"I suspect you are hungry," Luna said, but Draco had already left the room and walked down the pathway away from the house. He stopped a distance away and slammed his hands into his pockets, trying to suppress his pounding heart.

Luna was making all that up. No one thought about his mother in such ways. Even he didn't have such opinions of his mother, even though he's been around her his whole life. What she saw was only on the outside, not the inside. Sure the woman cared for him, but she was also a follower of the Dark Lord. Like his father. And him. Who would want their role model to be such a person?

He heard a door creak open in the distance. He looked back and found Luna walking down the steps, and then down the path to him. He noticed the red overalls that she was wearing, which hugged her torso and nipped in all the right places.

Luna Lovegood has curves? Well, why wouldn't she? She's a girl, after all. He huffed through his nose as he turned to the horizon and heard her approach in the dry grass.

"Would you like some breakfast?" she asked as he saw a plate of eggs, brown toast, and sausage. He saw nothing wrong with it. In fact, it looked delicious. But he turned his pointed nose away.

"No."

Luna turned away, humming the same tune from the day before. His stomach ate at him as the scent of that breakfast wafted away. He turned and saw Luna twirling around, both arms out, and, like a wispy dance move, placed the plate on a stone near the path, and danced up the steps, still humming. He eyed the plate. As soon as Luna was inside the house, he walked over and grabbed it, and finished it in minutes.

Luna sat in the leather sofa in her living room, only she sat backwards as she looked out the window at Draco Malfoy walking up to the plate she left on the rock, taking it, and eating the contents on it as he went and sat down, knees up, in the grass.

She smiled. She knew he was hungry. Those blue eyes of his wouldn't be darting to and from the plate if he wasn't so. She figured it was his proud personality that made him turn away from food, either that or he was repulsed by her. She wouldn't be surprised if he was. Most people were.

She sat back in the sofa and pulled a magazine off one of the small tables next to her. She opened The Quibbler and flipped through the articles. She was looking at the magazine upside-down, since she found it easier to read that way. She came across an article that her father wrote, titled "Malfoy Manor, Home of Darkness." Pictured there was the manor itself, tall and castle-like, large windows lining the whole front of the four-story mansion.

She remembered the day her father came home from gathering information on this story—he was covered in cuts and bruises. He told her that he was tortured into vowing not to publish the article, as the manor was a private home.

Luna read the article—

Malfoy Manor is the home of the wealthy pure-blood Malfoy family, located in Wiltshire, England. It is mainly used as the base of operations of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Death Eaters, much to the immense discomfort of Lucius, Nerissa, and Draco Malfoy. I personally saw the horrid looks on all three of their faces after asking the question of how they liked their home being inhabited by the dark wizard.

After a tour by a small house elf, I found that the manor is large, with windows lining the walls of the building, but curtains covering every one from the inside. Elaborate gardens surround the structure, along with a fountain, but I only saw them as I looked back behind a thick black curtain. The interior of the manor is dark, dismal, and creates negative feelings to all who enter it.

Luna paused for a moment. She had to disagree with her father right there, even if it was from his own personal experience. She remembered back to when she was brought into the manor. She didn't feel any sort of negative feeling when she entered, even though she knew she was going to be a prisoner in it for a time. Just as she had told Draco yesterday, she thought the house was lovely, even though the walls were dark, and the windows covered. She couldn't take her eyes off of the sumptuous decorations of paintings, suits of armor, fancy, deep red foreign rugs, nor the elegant crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. The place was a wonderment and a beauty in her eyes.

She read on—

The cellar of the manor, or the dungeons, are directly below the drawing room, allowing those in the manor to easily retrieve prisoners for punishing. The house elf that directed me took me down into the cellar, and a cold chill entered my bones. The room is completely dark and escape-proof. Only house elves can bypass the room's securities.

Again, Luna had to disagree with what he he. She escaped the room. With Draco. Of course, he may have not even noticed that he grabbed onto her arm before they apparated out. Maybe the family has the power to escape the place as well.

And she wasn't punished or taken out and tortured. She sat there on the hard floor for three whole months, humming sad tunes to herself, thinking of what was going on in the world as she was there, and what was has become of her father. She had to block those thoughts whenever they came and just decided to imagine what it would be like to literally sit on a cloud. It comforted her. When she heard someone open the door and slam it shut, she bolted up and walked to the stairs and saw a tall, lean figure at the top. Someone she recognized. She momentarily thought it curious that Draco Malfoy would enter the dungeon. He looked so scared—terrified, even. But she was inextricably happy to see him at the top of the stairs, as frightened as he was. Her heart soared at seeing a familiar face. Her heart was bursting so much with happiness at that time, the emotion caused his name to escape her lips.

But what had happened up above that caused him to look so scared? She did hear screams and banging. Maybe a battle with the Lord Voldemort? She couldn't be sure. But she was sure that she was happy to see Draco, even though he's the school bully and has called her names. Seeing anyone from school would have made her happy.

Luna leaned back in the sofa, staring up at the light blue ceiling.

"Draco Malfoy," she said, and her heart soared again, like in the dungeon. Curious.

Luna turned again and looked behind her and out the window again and saw Draco sitting in the grass, staring off into the sea of fields. She noticed how much he did this since they arrived at her home. She wondered what he thought about. What he ran from. Or he could just be admiring the scene in front of him.

She noticed him take his suit jacket off and then roll up his left sleeve. She squinted to try and see what he was looking at on his left arm, but she couldn't make it out. Was it his Dark Mark? She knew that he had become a Death Eater, on account of what she heard Harry, Ron, and Hermione talk about one day at lunch as she sat at the Ravenclaw table right next to them. She was shocked at their accusations, and couldn't believe it because he seemed far too young, and too innocent.

She turned back around and looked at the magazine again. She watched the moving picture of the Malfoy family, standing prim and proper. She eyed Draco. She thought him a good person on the inside, only that goodness was tainted with the evil that he was forced to live around all his life. But she didn't know him well enough to judge on that.

She put the magazine aside after a good three hours of reading various articles, and danced to the kitchen and started putting some food on a plate—the same grapes, cheese, and brown bread. Simple, yes, but it was all her and her father lived on since they were poor. She left out the door after she finished and stepped down the stairs to the path and glided to where Draco was, only he wasn't there.

"Oh," she said, and looked around.

She walked around the house with the plate in her hand, not able to spot him. Did he leave? She wouldn't blame him if he did. Her home is a place most people are uncomfortable coming to, no matter who they are. Plus, whatever happened at his home has most likely died down, so he decided to go back.

Luna set the plate down on a rock and started twirling about in the grass, her bare feet crunching the short yellow stalks. Her face to the sky, she inhaled the fresh breeze, and imagined herself dancing on a cloud. She danced around the yard, then around the house, letting the noon sun warm her cheeks.

How wonderful this was, to dance in the breeze, feeling like a breath of air dancing with the wind.

Luna had her eyes closed as she danced, her arms waving in every direction as she hummed a light tune, and her hair flying with her. Her eyes opened when she heard a light grunt near her. She stopped and saw Draco. He stood there, arms folded, and looking at her, shaking his head from side to side.

Her spirits elevated. He didn't leave! Luna wasn't sure why she felt so happy at seeing him standing there with a somewhat disgusted look on his face. She smiled.

"Draco," she said, and went over to the plate on the rock, "would you like some lunch?"

He stared at the plate, then back at her. "No."

He walked off and around the house, and she wasn't really sure where he went after that. She left the plate on the rock, knowing that he would come back and get it later. She went on to dance in the grass.