It took until she heard Draco on the floorboards above them before Luna finally released the tears she had been holding in. And there were too many to count. There were feelings coursing through her body which made her limbs heavy and weak and her heart hurt. Her head was spinning and it was all she could do to not scream with all her might. Whatever Voldemort might do to her in the future could not possibly hurt her more than she was hurting in that moment. Because she had done the unthinkable. She had betrayed them. She had given up. Ollivander was trying to counsel her, his words failing to break down the wall of sorrow Luna had built around her. Because everything Draco had said was right. She was a hypocrite. She pretended to be so hopeful and optimistic and yet she had gone so far as to even give up on herself and in the process, every other person who was helping her.

But she would make it up to him. She would eat and she would get strong and she would not give in. She had to live for her friends. She had to live for Draco.

Upstairs, Draco was rifling through his third year textbook to find the spell used to fix plaster, glass and brick, ignoring the blood that was dripping from his knuckles onto the pages.

He wasn't usually physical in his anger, particularly when it was directed at himself but when he had finally reached his room that night the wall didn't stand a chance.

He had been right in what he'd said, he knew that but he'd been wrong in shouting at her. Wrong to call her most of the things he'd called her. Why hadn't he stopped? He couldn't get her face out of his head or the thought that he'd done that to her. It was worse than when he had left her tied up before he'd gone to kill Dumbledore.

He tried to figure out when the fear had turned to anger. One moment he'd been so scared he was going to lose her and then suddenly he was calling her a hypocritical bitch. What had possessed him? He was usually so rational and calm and yet in that moment all logic had gone out the window because he was so angry that she didn't think about how much it would hurt him if she died. That she didn't think about how much he needed her.

But his anger had hurt her and he would do whatever it would take to heal the pain he had caused her. Because she was the first and only friend he had ever had and Draco wasn't about to give up on her like she had given up on him.

So naturally he got her flowers.

He stole them from the conservatory. They weren't real and they had faded slightly in the sun but florists were in short supply in the war and he figured that the low light in the dungeon would prevent the lack of colour being at all noticeable anyway so it wouldn't matter. He'd bought flowers for girls before. Usually for Pansy when he'd been caught with another girl. He'd buy her roses and she'd forgive him on the spot. It was one of her more useful qualities. But these were not a get out of jail free card and he didn't expect Luna to be as easily satisfied as Pansy had always been.

Which is why he never could have anticipated the welcome he received when he finally worked up the courage to go down to the basement.

Luna greeted him with a familiar 'Oh hello Draco' and most baffling of all, she smiled at him as she stood up, taking the flowers as he handed them to her.

'I got these for you. To say sorry. I think it's what friends are meant to do.'

Luna's smile grew into a grin which even in the darkness of the basement lit up her whole face.

'I've never been given flowers before! It's really quite lovely.'

Draco shrugged. 'They're hardly roses but you're welcome.'

Luna took his hand gently. 'It's the sentiment that counts.'

Again Draco shrugged. The absurdity of a romantic meeting in his basement was making him more and more uncomfortable. 'I upset you. I thought it make make you more likely to forgive me. It worked with Pansy.'

Luna shook her head.

'No you were right to say what you did. Abrupt and maybe a little offensive in your language but you meant well and I needed to hear it. Otherwise who knows what could have happened, I could have really given up hope and then where would we be? And in a way it made me happy.'

Draco smirked. 'You have a funny way of looking happy, Lovegood.'

Luna looked at him seriously. 'It made me happy because you cared. It's one thing to be kind and comforting but it takes a deeper kind of love to tell someone what they need to hear even though they don't want to hear it.'

'Who said anything about love, Lovegood?'

Luna met his eyes and found them not to be mocking her as she expected but challenging her. And to her own surprise she met the challenge. Gripping the lapels of his jacket she pulled him towards her and pressed her lips to his. It took Draco less than five seconds to get over his surprise and respond, one hand around her waist pulling her as close as was physically possible and the other on her neck. All too suddenly pulled away from Luna, resting his forehead against hers.

'I don't think friends do this.'

Luna met his eyes. 'No, I don't suppose they do.'

'Then what are we, Lovegood?' Luna looked at his face but the smirk that should have accompanied such a question wasn't there.

'You already know, so why ask me?

'Luna.'

'I think that we are lovers, Draco.'

And as Draco planted one final kiss on her lips, he smirked.

'much better.'

But as he made his way up the steps, a voice at the back of Luna's mind reminded her that it probably was not much better at all.