For Jane

Word Count: 1005

He's in his mother's garden, and his heart is so heavy that he can feel it in his stomach. Draco can't remember the last time he's smiled. Since the Dark Lord's defeat a week ago, most of the wizarding world has been celebrating. Really, he is happy, but not for reasons others may understand.

He is happy because he and his family are free. Because he doesn't have to worry if the Dark Lord will force him to do things. Because his mother is safe and he doesn't have to hear her crying every night.

But he will not celebrate. He isn't sure that he deserves to anyway. Maybe he hadn't had much of a choice, but he had still taken the Dark Mark. He had still caused so much pain because he had been determined to prove himself.

His mother says that it had been a childlike, foolish mistake. Draco isn't as kind to himself. He calls himself an idiot and can barely stand to look at his reflection.

"Such a lovely garden," comes a voice behind him. "Much nicer than the cellar."

Draco turns quickly, but he doesn't draw his wand. If someone has come to punish him for his crimes, he won't stop them. When he sees Luna's wide eyes and dreamy smile, he relaxes ever so slightly, though guilt sours his stomach.

"Your mother let me in," Luna explains, answering his unasked question. "She seemed quite surprised to see me."

"Probably because we held you captive," he points out, wincing as he says it. "No one in their right mind would come back."

Her lips quirk, and she giggles softly. "I think most of Hogwarts will tell you that I'm not in my right mind," she says, grinning up at him. She pauses, bending down and smelling a bright orange flower. "Did you know they call me Loony? Quite a clever play on my name, isn't it?"

Of course he knows. He has called her that and worse over the years. Just more things to feel guilty about. He really has been such a hateful person.

"You look sad," Luna notes. "Galleon for your thoughts?"

Sad. It's such an understatement that Draco almost laughs. He wants to tell her to piss off, that she doesn't need to know what he's feeling. Why should she care? His family hurt her; she should hate them for that.

Instead, he sighs and hangs his head. Tears sting his eyes, and he blinks them away. He can't cry. Not here. Not in front of her. Malfoy men are not supposed to be vulnerable.

"I wonder what it would be like to disappear," he whispers, cheeks burning at his confession.

"Why would you want that?"

He looks up, brows raised. It should be obvious, really. Then again, he has the feeling Luna lives in her own world. "Because of all the damage I've caused."

It's hard to admit, but the past few days have forced him to reflect on himself, his thoughts, his actions. He's really made a mess of things.

"If you disappeared, how would you learn to grow?" she asks, moving along, fingertips grazing over each plant as she walks.

Draco frowns. Grow. She says it like he's a flower, like he can transform into something beautiful. Dumbledore had said that his soul is still intact, that he hadn't murdered anyone. Draco isn't sure if that's the best way to measure it. He feels like his soul is dirty, and he doesn't know if there's a way to make it clean.

"Who says I want to grow?" he snaps.

She comes to a stop right in front of him, only inches away. There's something about her smile and the way she looks at him that makes Draco tremble inside. "You wouldn't be so miserable if you didn't want to grow," she answers, shrugging. "Daddy says that sometimes we have to be completely broken down in order to grow. It's like the earth. Sometimes they have to burn the ground so that things can grow better."

"I'm not a plant."

She purses her lips, considering. "No," she agrees. "Similar, I suppose, but with complex emotions."

He can't tell if she's making a joke or not, so he just stares, uncertain. "Why are you even here?" he asks.

They aren't friends. She doesn't owe him anything.

"I thought you might need someone," she answers, and she says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She's right, and he hates to admit it because he doesn't want to need anyone. No. That isn't quite right. He doesn't deserve anyone's kindness or pity. Maybe he isn't as bad as some of the people he knows, but he isn't innocent. There's no forgiveness for his crimes. He ought to be in Azkaban with his father, but Potter kept him and his mother out of prison.

"I don't need you," he says sharply.

Luna doesn't even flinch. Maybe she's so used to the way people treat her that it doesn't even faze her. All she does is smile and hold out her hand.

Draco is reminded of that time so long ago. Merlin, it feels like a lifetime ago now. He had held his hand out to Potter, offering his friendship. Does she know about that? It seems unlikely, really.

"It's okay," she says softly. "I don't hate you. I forgive you."

And that's all it takes. Something washes over him, and tears trickle down his cheeks. He furiously swipes his hand over his skin, shaking his head. He doesn't want to be vulnerable, but there's something so liberating about it.

Maybe he hadn't wanted forgiveness, but he thinks that maybe it's what he needs. The world is still so dark as the community learns to heal and carry on. Maybe, now more than ever, he just needs someone's hand to hold, a reassurance that everything will be okay, one way or another.

He takes her hand, sniffling. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I'm pathetic."

"You're human," she answers.