Title: What's Right
A/N: For the "You Choose!" Competition, pairing Draco/Luna
Blonde hair, grey eyes, pale skin. They stared at each other, standing in the middle of one of Hogwarts' many deserted corridors.
"Out of my way Lovegood," Draco snapped irritably. She merely cocked her head to one side and spoke in that dreamy voice.
"It's like looking in an obnoxious mirror," she commented, sounding a little surprised.
"What are you on about woman?" He was not having a good day at all.
"Can't you see?" Luna caught hold of his arm and pulled it up next to her own, tugging up the sleeve as she did so. Their arms lay side by side in mid-air, almost exactly the same pale shade. The ugly black tattoo adorning his forearm stood out in sharp contrast, the snake twisted in a knot. She was watching him sadly.
"You'll do what's right."
He jerked his arm away, hastily covering the Dark Mark. Draco nearly ran away.
That night he twisted and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Surely she would hand him in; Lovegood was as bad as Weasley. And then all his carefully crafted plans would come crashing down around him. He would have his wand snapped, be forced to live in the Muggle world… No, he would go straight to Azkaban. A Dark Mark was the most damning evidence there was.
He didn't sleep at all that night, or the next. Dark bags developed under his eyes and he couldn't concentrate in classes. The third night he passed out from sheer exhaustion.
One whole week had passed. Draco hardly dared to believe it – had Lovegood kept quiet? He couldn't see any reason for her to keep his secret, to protect him. Maybe they were trying to lull him into a false sense of security.
Four weeks. She couldn't have said anything. A dangerous Death Eater could not be left wandering around a school after all.
That night his dreams were full of Luna, in her sunshine yellow robes. He woke to fleeting memories of warm hugs and an inexplicable feeling of loss.
Luna never strayed far from his thoughts over the next few years. Even during Voldemort's reign any flash of blonde hair or yellow fabric pulled Luna to the front of his mind. The last words she had spoken to him hung over Draco's head like a death threat. She featured in both his good dreams and his nightmares, watching him being sent to Azkaban for his failures.
The battle was terrifying, horrifying, disturbing and heart breaking. Draco flattened himself against a wall as curses shot past, one grazing his arm while another hit a Death Eater. Blood fountained into the air and he quelled the urge to throw up.
He paced on the seventh floor, diving into the Room of Requirement the second a door materialised. Crabbe and Goyle had caught up with him at some point and they followed him in. He followed Potter's voice and duelled in some kind of daze.
"You'll do what's right." He caught sight of the diadem lying on the floor, too far away for Potter to grab.
What's right.
"Crabbe! Fiendfyre, now," he ordered in his usual imperious tone, already running for the door. Heat licked at his heels as he climbed a tottering stack of rubbish. He hoped that this was worth something, that he wasn't dying for nothing…
A hand came out of nowhere and grabbed him. He was pulled onto a broom behind Potter, reflexively clutching the wooden handle to stop himself sliding off of the bristles.
"If we die for them, I'll kill you Harry!" Ron yelled. They crashed onto the hard stone floor just as the fire reached the door.
Draco picked himself up and turned to say something, but Potter and his friends had already left.
He re-joined the fight, but this time Draco was where he belonged. Death Eaters fell, not expecting an attack from an ally.
I'll do what's right. He promised Luna in his head.