It was a very nice dining hall, Luna had to admit. But it was just a little too baroque. The chandelier gave off sterile light. The chair she was sitting it was uncomfortable and demanded a precise body position. The table looked too shiny, as if it were rarely used. Luna recalled her kitchen table at home, pockmarked with the family's schizophrenic scribbles and some droopy flowers in a colorful porcelain vase. She eyed the many different utensils and wished she knew etiquette and how to make small talk and all those other high society things.

Narcissa Malfoy smiled patronizingly at her from across the table as they waited for the house elves to serve dinner. Her husband, and Draco's father, leered from the fireplace, seemingly naught but a severed head. Draco himself was seated next to Luna, staring straight ahead, face void of all emotions.

Luna's thoughts raced. Don't belch, there's a fine line between curiosity and downright nosiness, refrain from grunting, compliment the food but not too excessively or they'll think I'm being possessed by a mankraug. Anything involving bodily functions is not allowed as conversation, but Crumple-Horned Snorkacks might fit the bill. Small bites, don't slurp if the host's robes are green. She glanced at Draco again. Still not looking at her. His shoulders were tense. She wished he would give her even the tiniest sign of comfort or support. Her thoughts returned frantically to what little she knew of table manners. Back straight, don't slouch or I'll crack my mother's pavement, don't put elbows on table, arms at sides will do-no, hands folded neatly in lap to see how fattening the food is by feeling the plumpness of my thighs-but when she attempted to fold her hands neatly in her lap something stopped her.

Another hand. A soft, warm hand that enclasped hers. Soothing, reassuring. Luna surreptitiously sneaked another glance at Draco. He was still looking ahead without the slightest facial expression indicating that he cared. The corner of his mouth twitched.

The house elves streamed in with steaming platters. "Dinner will now be served," one squeaked.

Luna and Draco continued to hold hands underneath the table throughout the duration of that grandiose, uncomfortable, now-made-slightly-better meal.