A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

For Nocturnal Smile, who wanted: I haven't seen any DracoxLuna for a while, how about a bit of time after the war she helps improve his view on life through her sheer insanity?

Warning: angst, language

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

Part II: XXXI

He stares bitterly out at the bleak grounds, wind whipping at his slightly greasy hair. He absentmindedly adjusts the scarf that keeps falling off his meagre frame and hopes that the gusts of air are loud enough to hide him from his echoing thoughts.

"They're not, you know."

He sighs expressively, though not as impressively as he did before the war. Nothing is as impressive as it was before the war, he supposes. "Lovegood," he says curtly. "I'm not going to even pretend to understand how you know what I'm thinking."

Wild blonde hair swirls at the edge of his vision, and he ignores the reflexes of his traitorous body, shuffling him towards her.

She whispers conspiratorially, "It's the Nargles. I've infested your brain with them, and now I can hear every single thought you've ever made."

Fuck off, he screams silently, and grimaces when he can practically feel her beaming at his shoulder.

"Shan't," she sings, and he groans and cradles his head in heavy woollen gloves.

Frustrated, he turns for the first time and glares at her. "What can I do to make you leave?"

She smiles at him softly, and he ignores the way his breath catches in his throat. "Haven't you figured it out yet, silly boy? Why I won't ever leave?"

Distracted by bulging washed-out blue eyes that shouldn't be attractive but somehow are, he mutters, "Why won't you, then?"

She places her tiny palm gently against his cheek, and he feels the skin warm almost magically beneath her touch. She breathes, "I make you feel alive."

He pulls back sharply, shocked but not surprised. It clicks, somewhere in his chest, that this insane little girl smoothes out all his rough edges and makes them fit together once again. Just for a little while, when they're together, he doesn't feel quite as broken.

Reaching out almost blindly, he gathers her to him, and their foreheads bump in the frosty air. He gazes past snow-dusted eyelashes to dilated irises, and asks quietly, "What do I make you feel?"

She smiles, uncoils languidly, and with a brush of cold noses, replies, "Thirsty."

He blinks. Quirks an eyebrow. Exclaims, "The feck, Lovegood?"

She laughs and grabs his hand, tugging him away from the tower's edge. "You've always told me I was mad, Draco; why should this instance be any different?"

He shakes his head wryly, but allows her to tow him back into the flickering light of the castle. She chatters on about this and that, and he doesn't hide the fact that he's completely ignoring her.

But in the moments that she doesn't happily glance at him, he lets a small, secret smile slip from his lips.

He's never felt more alive.

oOo

A/N: -blinks- I wasn't expecting that to turn out to be a flangst fest, but I rather liked the result. And cheers for present tense. ^-^