Disclaimer: JKR owns it all. I'm just having fun.

Heart and Soul

by sshg316

Chapter Two

Your Lips Were Thrilling

o0o

A smirk played upon his lips as Draco watched the witch he had just thoroughly kissed exit the room with a bit of an extra swing in her step and swish in her hips. Tilting his head to one side, he allowed his eyes to linger a moment on the delicious roundness of her arse before he turned on the bench to face the piano once again. He grinned smugly. All the weeks of witty banter and teasing innuendo had paid off.

His plan was working perfectly.

He closed the fallboard on the piano and leant his elbows against it, his hands cradling his chin. It was an ingenious plan, one that had come to him unexpectedly as he had watched his blonde-haired housemate dancing alone at the Snapes' wedding reception.

Weddings, he thought with a mental shudder. Gods, how he hated them. It used to be that all the talk of love and commitment would give him the creeps. His parents had often said they "loved" each other. Draco was barely able to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. If lying, cheating, and hexing the shite out of one another was love, he had wanted no part of it.

In recent years, however, he had seen other examples of marriage that made him wonder if perhaps there was more to this love business than he had previously thought – marriages like those of Molly and Arthur, Bill and his late wife, Fleur, Remus and Tonks … hell, even Potter and Ginevra. Their examples had started him thinking. Watching Severus Snape, bastard extraordinaire, twirl his new wife around a dance floor, obviously deliriously happy – to the trained Slytherin eye, anyway – had given him even further pause. If he could find a love like that he would grab onto it and never let go.

He wouldn't hold his breath, though. That kind love and devotion was something special and not easily found. The problem was that after seeing what a truly loving marriage was like, Draco did not want to settle for anything less. That is why he now hated weddings: they reminded him that if he wanted to get married, he might have to do just that – settle.

But settle he would if it meant that he could have a family of his own. Draco was tired of playing the field, tired of meaningless shags with random women who didn't mean anything more than just that – a meaningless shag. He was ready for a wife, kids … the whole Quidditch pitch. Unfortunately for Draco, there was one thing hindering his wife-finding abilities.

His reputation.

And he didn't mean the "he might have been a big bad Death Eater" reputation. His role in the Order and the defeat of Voldemort had conveniently rendered that particular rumour an exaggeration. It was his reputation as a womaniser that was causing him grief.

He slid off the bench and began to pace the length of the room in agitation, his hands clasped behind his back and his brow furrowed in thought. Since the end of the war and the revelation of his part in the downfall of Voldemort, women had flocked to him, drawn by his aristocratic looks, charming personality (when he so desired, anyway), and the rumours of both his sexual prowess and the vast Malfoy fortune. The reality of those particular rumours was somewhat different.

In regard to the so-called 'vast' Malfoy fortune, it was true to some extent. There was a fortune. Unfortunately, Draco had no part of it. His father, after all, was very much alive – although currently residing in Azkaban – and had refused to sign over the fortune to "that blood-traitor," saying Draco would not see a single Knut until it was absolutely necessary – meaning until Lucius Malfoy had drawn his last breath. Draco knew his father would never cut him out of the will entirely, as his pure-blood sensibilities would not allow the Ministry to gain from "family issues," but he would make him wait for it. Even in Azkaban, his father could easily live another fifty years, and Lucius hoped Draco would suffer the wait every moment. Draco stopped in front of the window, his satisfied smile reflected in the glass. It was too bad for Lucius that Draco didn't really care about the money – of course, it helped that upon the deaths of his mother and aunt, he had inherited what was left of their share of the Black fortune. It wasn't much, but it was enough to have paid for University as well as his share of living expenses at Grimmauld Place. Some wise investments had proven fruitful as well, and whilst he couldn't afford the sort of lavish lifestyle his family had once enjoyed, he was financially comfortable.

As for the other prevailing rumour, it also contained a grain of truth. He had certainly entertained his fair share of witches, especially right after the war had ended. Although he liked to think of himself as a more-than-adequate shag, he reckoned he was no more experienced than most men in their mid-twenties. Contrary to popular belief, he did not shag everything in a skirt; he was actually quite selective about the women he … entertained. He did have some standards, after all. The women he bedded had to be smart – he couldn't stand dimwits. A sense of humour was also a must, the wittier the better. She had to have a positive outlook on life – he could be moody enough all by himself; he certainly did not want to deal with someone else's angst, even if only for a few hours. Obviously, the outer package was nice, but like most men of his age, he had learnt that physical beauty alone was not enough to keep him interested. He glanced out the door Luna had exited a few moments earlier. He needed substance.

He heaved a sigh. Beggars couldn't be choosers, however, and when it came to finding a wife, Draco was well on his way to becoming a beggar. Convincing a woman he was now reformed and looking for someone to marry and start a family with had proven to be more difficult than he had anticipated. After all, he had a reputation as the "love 'em and leave 'em" sort of bloke. Now, the women he tended to attract were the type who were only interested in a one-night stand. The question had been, how did one go about informing the witches of the wizarding world that he was marriage material?

That was where The Plan came in. It had occurred to him that what he needed was to show wizarding society that he was serious about looking for a wife, and the way to do that would be to have a serious relationship – or at least one that looked serious. The only problem had been finding the right witch to be a part of this plan.

Enter Luna Lovegood.

Oh, yes. Draco was well aware of Miss Luna Lovegood's little crush. He had always found it rather endearing, actually. She had never fawned or thrown herself at him like so many other witches had done. On the contrary, she had been the soul of discretion in her infatuation; but Draco had known that she was interested in him in that way since shortly after the war. He had seen the slight blush that would grace her cheeks when he spoke to her, the secretive smiles when he entered a room, the way her eyes followed him. To be honest, he had never given it, or her, much thought until two months ago at Severus and Hermione's wedding. It was then that he had seen her across the ballroom, and he had instantly known that she was the answer to all of his problems. And that was when he formed The Plan. He would have just what he wanted, and Luna Lovegood was going to help him – albeit unwittingly.

She was going to help him find a wife.

Returning to the piano, Draco sat, lifted the fallboard, and began to play a simple melody as he continued to mull over the situation. It was a straightforward plan, really. He would use his knowledge of Luna's fascination with him, lure her in, and ask her out. He would be sure that they had a grand time and that they appeared in public often. He would see her exclusively for a few months, thereby showing potential mates that he was capable of a monogamous, long-term relationship. And when he quietly broke it off with Luna – appearing suitably depressed over losing the love of his life (he couldn't help but snigger) – witches would be beating down his door to offer their condolences.

He stopped playing, his hands lingering on the ivory keys. Luna was his friend, of a sort, and the thought of hurting her in any way was troublesome, which was why Draco had decided that there would be absolutely no physical intimacies beyond a bit of snogging. He was aware of her inexperience with men; he didn't want her to regret her time with him, and sleeping with her and then dumping her would certainly give her cause for regret. As it was, his plan would benefit her as much as it would himself. Luna was a bit of an odd bird, and she certainly did not have a queue of interested suitors. As part of The Plan, she would be seen on the arm of a highly desirable wizard, and after he ended things and they parted amicably, some nice bloke would have taken notice of her and be standing in the wings waiting for his turn. He and Luna would remain casual friends, and everything would be tied up all nice and neat. After all, it wasn't as if Luna was in love with him; she just had a little crush.

It was a great plan – almost foolproof.

He dropped his hands into his lap and frowned as he considered the one potential flaw: he was desperately attracted to the loony witch. Draco had no explanation for it; Luna wasn't the usual type of woman he was attracted to – he preferred a more sophisticated woman – yet he found her strangely appealing. She could be wickedly clever, with a sharp wit that often surprised even her closest friends. She was generous and kind and modest to a fault. At the same time, she was, even by her own estimation, a bit peculiar. His lips twitched in amusement. That was putting it lightly. He never knew if a conversation with her would be about some new Charm she was researching or the latest wild-goose chase her father had sent her on for The Quibbler. Talking with Luna certainly kept one paying attention.

Perhaps the thing he liked most about her was her ability to laugh at herself, to just be herself, regardless of who was watching or ridiculing. Luna was a witch who was comfortable in her own skin. And that was something of which Draco was intensely covetous. Malfoy or not, he only wished that one day he would feel the same sort of quiet self-assurance as Luna. Lucky witch. What would it be like to see the world through her eyes?

With that thought, his mind turned immediately to Luna's rather large, silvery eyes. They were often wistful and unfocussed, but every now and again he had seen her gaze turn sharp and intent, a sure sign of just why the witch had been sorted into Ravenclaw. Draco wondered at times if her dreamy demeanour was camouflaging something more devious …. He shook his head, his lips curling into a smirk. No, the witch did not have a cunning bone in her body.

And while he was thinking about her body … Merlin, had she grown into hers. Luna was taller than average, although she was still a good three inches shorter than his own six-foot frame, with curves that would make any man take a second look … maybe even a third. She had cut her hair to shoulder length a few years ago, and although it still appeared a bit stringy at times, it was a flattering look for her. She had a strong nose, not too big but not dainty either; it suited her face. But it was her mouth that Draco found most appealing. It was wide and lush, perfect for kissing. Her lips were petal pink, and he now knew they were soft and warm and pliant beneath his own. He groaned softly at the reminder of their earlier snogging session, of how she had melted into him, eager for his kiss, his touch ….

Shite! he thought as he felt his body respond to the thought of just kissing her again. Draco ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at his scalp before allowing his head to fall onto the keyboard, the resulting dissonance echoing throughout the room.

He would have to make certain all their outings were in public – he could not afford to give in to temptation. It was too bad that they weren't more compatible. She was a nice witch who already had shown an interest in him, and she could make him laugh, a skill few possessed. She also seemed to enjoy playing with the new little Potter brat, so she probably wouldn't mind having a few sprogs of her own. If she had been less eccentric – of a more socially acceptable family – he might have considered courting her.

Instead, he would pretend to court her and hope that The Plan worked. It just had to … because if it didn't, the alternative was a lifetime alone, and Draco didn't think he could possibly survive the rest of his life with just himself, his own right hand, and a half-rate shag every now and again from some dim-witted tart looking to get a piece of the Draco Malfoy. He shuddered.

It just had to work. It had to.

Draco sauntered into the basement looking every bit the Investment Finance Arithmancer he was. He had carefully chosen his attire; the dark blue of his business robes complimented his colouring, and the cut emphasised the broadness of his shoulders. Of course this morning his intent was not to impress the witches at his Ministry office, but one witch in particular – the one who was currently singing off-key with the Weird Sisters on the Wizarding Wireless as she was slicing a banana and adding it to a bowl of oatmeal.

With a smirk, he quietly walked toward Luna, hoping to surprise her. He was just about to cover her eyes with his hand and ask, "Guess who?" when …

"Good morning, again, Draco," she said.

He dropped his hand and huffed exasperatedly, feeling a bit put out that she had ruined his fun. "I was trying to surprise you. How did you know I was here?"

Luna turned, and her small smile caused Draco's eyes to fall to that mouth that was oh, so tempting ….

"I recognised your cologne. You always smell quite lovely."

His nose wrinkled in distaste. "Lovely? Come now, pet," he said, noticing the hitch in her breath when he uttered the endearment. He moved closer to her, enough so that she had to tilt her chin slightly to meet his eyes. "No man wants to smell lovely. We want to smell divine or delicious or sinful …." With each word, he stepped closer to her until they were almost touching. Luna gasped slightly at his proximity, her lips parting and once again inviting him to partake of their sweetness …. Bloody hell. He had to stop looking at her mouth – now he was waxing poetic!

Slowly, he moved closer still, and just as Luna's eyes were about to close, he reached behind her and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. "An apple a day, right?" he teased as he backed away from her and took a bite of the fruit. "Mmm. Juicy."

Her eyes widened in shock for a moment, then narrowed, giving him the sense once again that there was more to Luna Lovegood underneath the dreamy façade. But then the moment passed, her eyes turned misty again, and Draco found himself wondering if he had imagined the sharpness in her gaze. Well, this was no time to wool-gather. He had a plan to implement.

"So it's Friday. Got any big plans for tonight?" he asked smoothly after swallowing the bite of apple. "If not, I was hoping you might be interested in joining me for dinner."

Now she did look surprised. "You … are asking me … to dinner?"

"I am. I realise that what happened earlier wasn't planned," he said with a casual shrug of one shoulder, "but I don't regret it. Do you?"

She stared at him and then shook her head slowly.

"Excellent. Neither do I. In fact, I wouldn't mind repeating it." I wouldn't mind at all. "But being the gentleman that I am, it wouldn't be appropriate to do so until I take you out on a proper date."

Luna blinked.

Draco waited.

And waited some more.

He sighed dramatically. "Well?"

Finally, she seemed to snap out of her bewilderment. "Oh! No – I mean, yes! Yes, I would like that. Definitely."

He allowed himself a rare wide grin. "Good. I'll pick you up around six. Dress casually." He winked at her and loudly crunched another bite of the apple before strolling out of the room.

Everything was going according to plan.

A/N: As you can see, I have decided – thank to you lovely readers and reviewers – to continue this story. My thanks to my wonderful betas, DeeMichelle and Subversa. You rock. My fabulous Brit picker, LettyBird, is moving this week, and so I have posted this chapter without her keen Brit picking eye. I hope I didn't butcher things too badly.

The chapter titles are from the lyrics to Heart and Soul.

I must warn you now that it may be November before I am able to get to chapter three. I am terribly busy writing a new story for the SS/HG Exchange on LiveJournal. Please be patient and know that I will never abandon a story. Chapter three will be coming, I promise!

Up next: Luna ponders and the first date.