Well, here it is. I didn't think I would do it, but I have started back on this story, and I'm going to finish it this summer. I started writing again and I read through these old reviews, and I couldn't believe the support. I teared up reading the compliments and how much people had enjoyed this. I hope maybe a few of you are willing to stick with me until the end.
Draco was seriously considering brewing his own Felix Felicious potion. He'd had little progress on the Vanishing Cabinet, what with Loony Lovegood getting in the way, and he was no closer to successfully killing his Headmaster. The stress was overwhelming. Draco didn't eat dinner that night, instead staying in his dorm room, laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling.
Everything he did failed. The Vanishing Cabinet was far from the only thing. He had never beaten Potter at Quidditch, and then know-it-all Mudblood Granger managed to somehow surpass him in every single class, except for potions from the last five years. Now, though, Slughorn showed the little witch favor and Draco had fallen to third place. Behind Potter, of all people! The scarred bastard who couldn't normally get even an "A" without Granger's help, and now he was even beating Granger, taking top of the class with straight "O"s. It was disgusting, to say the least.
Draco rolled over onto his side, curling up on top of the silken black sheets. Draco was intelligent. He was handsome, rich, and had the best blood out of anyone at Hogwarts. So why did he feel so... inadequate? So useless? Even Loony Lovegood had friends. She had Longbottom, the two Weasels, Potter, and even Granger. Not that Draco wanted them as friends! Merlin, no. But he couldn't deny, he wished he had a friendship as strong as they seemed to have. Blaise was as close as they came, but his family wasn't involved with the Dark Lord. He couldn't discuss his mission with Blaise. And Theodore was too involved.
Sitting up straight, Draco conjured a mirror with the flick of his wand and examined his reflection. Pale skin with a tinge of grey that seemed to stick too closely to his cheek bones. Silver eyes were dead and clouded. Even his prized hair seemed less healthy. It was dry and not as sleek as it had once been. Stubble lightly dusted his jaw, and he couldn't be bothered to shave it off. What a sorry state he had gotten in.
He rose slowly from his bed and straightened his grey button-up shirt, the same color as his eyes. Draco fixed his hair back into it's impeccable style with a simple charm and threw on an outer robe, forgoing the sanctioned tie. Then, he left to go to one of the last places he wanted to be: detention with the walrus and Ravenclaw chit.
Draco walked slowly to his doom, dragging his feet down the staircases. As much as Malfoy dignity would allow, in any case. He was at the door to Slughorn's classroom far too quickly, and was, disappointingly, only a minute late.
"Ah, Draco, m'boy." Slughorn greeted, although he seemed less than pleased to see the young pureblood. Luna Lovegood was standing in front of the man's desk, blonde hair tied back in a very long ponytail that reached just to the swell of her bottom. Draco quickly took his head away from those thoughts and onto what the Potions' Master was saying.
"-would have sent you off to the greenhouses with Professor Sprout, as she needs some help with the Mandrake roots, but it's raining buckets out there. Instead, you shall be brewing Madam Pomfrey five vials of Blood-Replenishing Potion each." Draco suppressed a groan. Blood-Replenishing Potions were notoriously difficult to cut ingredients for, as they were so testy about the exact size of the leaves and such. It was also incredibly boring, as there was nothing to do after setting the potion a boil, except for to make sure the temperature stayed steady for thirty-three minutes precisely.
"I will know if you try and leave this room." Slughorn warned, backing his large body towards the door. "I shall be in my office if either of you need me. You are free to leave after all ten potions have been made. Do well!"
With that, the blustering walrus was gone, and Draco was left alone with the current pervader of his thoughts. Surely Slughorn had just put up a simple warning charm to alert them if they left. Draco could get past that. But then Luna would tell on him... damn. It looked like he really was stuck with the abominable witch for the entire hour.
"Let's get this over with." He sneered, going over to the supplies cabinet and hauling out a rusty pewter contraption that was clearly made for the likes of Weasley's, and not Malfoy's. Draco sniffed in disdain, mostly for show, but set the cauldron on his own chosen table and gathered the necessary ingredients in silence.
At first, he was hopeful. Luna didn't say a word, and he began to cheer up. Perhaps this would go better than he thought. However, after five minutes of silence, he began to grow annoyed. Was his presence not... bothering her? She seemed to not care less whether he was around. It was frustrating. Malfoy's were simply not ignored.
This whole time, he had been determinedly looking at his own ingredients and cutting them meticulously. The muleraddish was shaved and cut into small, 1/8 inch by 3 inch slivers. Finally, after a total of ten minutes had passed, according to the heavy silver watch on Draco's wrist, he looked up.
Luna had not moved an inch. She was sitting on her own table only two away from him, watching his progress. Her ingredients were gathered, but she had not even started to prepare them. Draco scowled and opened his mouth to snap at her, but then he noticed where her eyes were fixed. On his hands.
"You have beautiful hands." She told him, her permanently wide blue eyes not moving away from them. "Pale, long, and slender. I think they would be at rights playing the piano. Very precise and eloquent." Luna added dreamily, her voice breaking the silence like so many crystal beads falling on the hard stone floor.
Suddenly, she stood, and started walking towards him. Her movements were not hesitant, nor confident. It was more as if she were simply wandering in a direction that he so happened to be in. Draco stood completely still, his hands still poised on the muleraddish and silver blade. His heart was thumping loudly, but for what reason, he didn't know. Nothing made sense anymore.
She reached out with her own small hands and gently covered the fist holding the knife. He almost jumped, looking down at their hands. His knuckles were pure white from gripping the hilt so hard. Draco released it suddenly and it clattered to the wooden table. The sound broke him from his odd trance and he set down the muleraddish, making to back away.
"What are you-" he started, but even to his own ears the venom was gone, replaced by something wary and ever so slightly... curious?
"They are masculine, though." Luna suddenly said, cutting him off completely. Draco was too stunned to take insult. "They've caught the snitch so many times." She said, tilting her head as she took each of his hands in one of hers, studying them as though they were unicorn foals, rare, wild, and beautiful.
Her small fingers were so warm and soft. They felt like bliss, fire melting away the cool of the dungeon. Draco could smell her scent now. Wild clover and something spicier, almost musky. It was her natural scent. And it smelled better than all the perfume in the world.
Luna leaned closer to him, bringing his hands up to her eyes, intertwining their fingers. "I wondered how they would feel." she commented lightly. "Calloused," she decided after a moment, nodding her head as if to affirm her own statement. Her hair blew with a small breeze, a few silky strands floating to tickle his cheeks. Her shampoo must have been clover, because that smell pervaded all, even the stink from the muleraddish on his fingertips.
Draco looked up at her and was surprised to see that she was peering into his own eyes now, apparently done with her examination of his hands. She smiled at him suddenly, and Draco felt like reality was melting away even more. She leaned in a little bit closer, and Draco was frozen, unable to move. She closed her eyes, and just as Draco became convinced she was going to kiss him, she spoke again.
"Would you chop my ingredients for me?"
