Sorry guys, no new chapter, yet. I had an oops pointed out to me in this chapter, so I fixed it. Chapter 12 will be up soon!

Draco was pacing a track in the carpet of the living room in his flat. The words of Luna's prophecy repeated themselves over and over again. He wasn't going to pretend that he knew what it meant, but he was going to try to puzzle it out. A birthday on the seventh anniversary of the battle. That much was clear. But whose birthday was on May 2nd? And somehow a difficult choice was going to have to be made. Draco sighed in exasperation. The prophecy was fairly straightforward, but he needed more information to grasp its actual meaning. The last line echoed throughout his thoughts. The pure do not always make pure choices. It bothered him. Something about the entire prophecy screamed "Luna!"

He didn't want it to be about her. He didn't want his friend to go through a difficult decision. He didn't want her to have the weight of the wizarding world on her shoulders. It was entirely too heavy of a burden to bear. But it wasn't necessarily about her, right? It could be about anyone. He didn't even know when her birthday was. It could have been bloody Christmas Day for all he knew. He decided that would be the first thing he would ask her about on Monday.

A clatter sounded in his kitchen, snapping him out his brooding. He drew his wand and approached, ready to hex whoever was there. Blaise came around the corner, jumping when he saw Draco's wand pointed at his chest.

"Bloody hell, mate. Put that thing down." He flopped into Draco's recliner unceremoniously, flinging one leg over the arm. "I don't know why you always do that. Who do you think would be coming through your wards?"

Draco gave a noncommittal grunt. "If I had some warning that you were coming over, I might not react like that."

Blaise chuckled, but sobered quickly. "Oi, what's eating you? Luna troubles?"

The blonde shook his head. "Not like you think."

Blaise sat up and put his feet properly on the floor, propping his elbows on his knees, the look on his face obviously urging his friend to continue. Draco was silent for a little while, still pacing. His appearance was disheveled, which was unusual. The button-down shirt he was wearing was untucked and the top couple of buttons undone, and the bottom was creased from having been tucked in all day. There was something that smelled like firewhiskey all down the front of his shirt, and his hair hung in his eyes. Those silvery eyes were troubled; that trouble bordering on dangerous.

"She's a beautiful girl, mate," Blaise said quietly. "I can't blame you for being so smitten that you're going crazy."

Draco sat down on his sofa in a huff. "It really isn't like that, Blaise. I like her, yeah, as a friend. She's just so bloody confusing! I know her better than I know anyone else, it seems, yet every day she springs something on me that completely rearranges everything I thought I knew."

Blaise chuckled. "As a friend my arse," he muttered. Draco scowled at him, but didn't say anything. "Look, Draco, how about you just tell me what you know?"

"She is beautiful," Draco conceded. "And bloody brilliant. You really don't know brilliant until you sit with her going over accounts for a day. She's sweet. I've never met anyone as selfless as she is. She was raised by her nutjob of a father, so that explains why she can be a little abnormal at times." He fell silent for a few moments. "Did you know that she was one of the prisoners kept in my own damn house during the war? They tortured her. And worse."

Draco reached for the glass of firewhiskey that he had sitting on the coffee table. Blaise left him to his thoughts for a little while before asking, "Why do you keep denying that you like her? You two need each other."

He was met with a thoughtful frown. "Do I? Like her, I mean? Or do I just feel obligated to help her because she's my friend, and she is still dealing with the aftereffects of time spent in MY house?"

Blaise studied Draco. "Did you participate?"

"NO!" Draco practically exploded at him. "How could you even ask that?" He threw back the remaining contents of his glass and reached for the bottle, but Blaise stopped him.

"You don't need that, mate. You need to be clear-headed to think about this. Do you love her?"

The blonde man scoffed. "Love, Blaise? Really? No. I'm not capable."

Blaise ignored the last part. "Do you fancy her?"

Empty silence reigned for several long minutes. "I honestly don't know," was the eventual response. "Can we talk about something else?"

His Italian friend settled back in the chair, staring into the empty fireplace. The two enjoyed the companionable quiet, and Blaise poured himself some of the dark, amber liquid that he had kept from Draco. Draco summoned another glass, and this time Blaise didn't stop him from pouring himself some more. They drank together without talking, just thinking.

After a while, Blaise broke the silence. "I'm seeing Harper."

Draco nearly choked on his firewhiskey. "Harper? Harper Camden?

Blaise's response was calm. "Do you know any other Harpers?"

"Well, no. But, how? Thought she hated you for being a party boy and a player and all that?"

"Yeah, well, I promised not to see other girls, and that I would clean up my act a little bit. I'm getting a job, too. I start at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes on Monday."

Draco laughed. It was a full, real, heartfelt laugh. "What a job! I have to say, mate, it couldn't be more perfect for you."

The two talked for many long hours. Blaise had gotten the job because he had been in the pub talking about the need for a job, but the dislike of confining things like desks, and rules. George had overheard the former Slytherin, and asked if he liked pranks and jokes, and the two had hit it off splendidly. Harper had suggested the search for employment and was almost upset about his choice, but she couldn't fault him for trying and finding something he enjoyed.

At first, Blaise had been trying to push Draco and Luna together because he suspected that Draco may have had feelings for Harper, and he didn't want Draco to be upset if anything came of his advances. Draco laughed at that. He hadn't felt more than friendship for his former assistant, and he was glad to see that she had found someone. He was even more glad that Blaise was finally making the effort to settle down.

Blaise fell asleep after a while, and Draco pulled himself off the sofa into his own room. The conversation from earlier was bothering him. He was slowly coming to the realization that Blaise was right. His relationship with Luna was past the point of mere friendship. He wanted to protect her, and make her happy. He wanted to be there for her when things went wrong, and celebrate with her when things went right. He just didn't know how far he was willing to take it yet.

He paced the floor in his bedroom now, unable to fall asleep. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that even if he figured out that he did like Luna, he would never be able to do anything about it. He was all wrong for her. She was beautiful; even more so on the inside than her very real beauty on the outside. He was anything but. He had been on the other side in the war, and had probably even attacked her at some point during the battle. He couldn't remember if he had or not, and the thought that he could have drove him crazy. Not to mention the fact that, more likely than not, she had never and would never think of him that way. No, he would never have anything more than friendship with Luna. No matter how much he might like her.