A/N: It looks like some people are reading this which is nice. Just a warning, the opening scene is a sex scene so if that bothers you please move to the next page break.

June 15th

The headboard clapped obscenely against the thin wall of his bedroom. It was times like this when he was able to forget about things and just exist as the filthy, angry beast he felt like. The witch bouncing on his lap lived down the hall and sometimes came over for tea. Marigold was a tiny wraith of a girl, and even smaller of mind, but was a proper substitute for anything of real substance. They used each other and they liked it like that.

"Ah… ah….ah…" She sighed as she ran her long black nails over his chest. He grabbed her- flipped her over. Pounded into her, unrelenting. Put a hand over her mouth. Shoved two fingers in. She almost laughed. Sucked at his long fingers obscenely.

He let out a final groan, muffled in mess of his pillow and her hair. He stayed like that for a moment while they both caught their breath, then he slid out of her, off of her, and onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling. He felt her sit up and reach for her cigarettes. She sighed.

"You don't mind, do you? Incendio." she wasn't really asking. She lit up, and ashed in a water glass on his nightstand. He got up and went to the bathroom, throwing her a washcloth before closing the door. He bathed quickly half hoping that she'd be gone by the time he was done. Knew she would be sitting on his sorry excuse for a balcony, chain smoking and reading a magazine. She'd stay there for the rest of the day while he went to the shops. She'd ask for him to buy some booze. And maybe a pack of cigarettes. And some biscuits. He'd come home and she'd still be there but she'd be dressed. They'd fuck again and then she'd drink and listen to the radio. In the morning she'd be gone with half of his food. Sometimes she'd be gone for weeks. But she always came back. She was around his age but he knew better now than to ask if she had gone to Hogwarts.

After his shower he went to the kitchen. His mood instantly soured as he looked at the sad plant on his windowsill. Marigold hadn't noticed it yet.

The stupid plant sat, wilting slightly, judging him on the sill. He had done what she told him. He stopped watering so much. Let it drain for thirty minutes in his sorry excuse for a sink. Placed it back in the southern sunlight. Turned it every day just slightly so each bud received an equal amount of light. And still, it was wilting.

He knew what he had to do but… he didn't want to. He paused his pacing. Scowling. Pale face flushed with embarrassment. Finally, he leaned close to the plant- so close his lips almost touched the small buds. Then, in a quiet voice, below a whisper he said, "I traveled thro' a land of men, a land of men & women too. And heard and saw such dreadful things a cold earth wanderers never knew." (1)

And instantly the small plant seemed to perk up. Appeared to move and wiggle and reach for the sun. Draco shot backwards, almost fell. Merlin. How foolish.

Yet as he put the kettle on and munched on an off-brand biscuit absently, he felt pleased with himself. That plant would die when he wanted it to die. Until then, dying would be unacceptable.

"Bring me some tea love?" Marigold called from the balcony. "And put a spot of brandy in it."

With a final smirk at his plant, he turned to his cabinets to find his liquor.

June 19th

"You seem pleased today."

He looked at her through the hair that had fallen in his face. He shrugged.

"I was thinking, maybe next time we won't meet here in my office." He looked at her, a little too quickly for his liking. Was this it? Was she getting rid of him?

"Instead, we should go see the botanical gardens." Draco's eyes narrowed. The gardens were all the way across town near the river. It would take him hours to walk there.

"I know you're not allowed to apparate or use floo yet," she continued. "But we can take my port key. It's ministry sanctioned." She looked at him and smiled. Her large grey eyes as calm and still as the surface of a lake in spring. "How does that sound to you?"

He nodded. Once. Twice. Stiffly. He did want to go the botanical gardens. He wanted to see more than his grimy flat, the café he went to every week, the laundry, the office where he filed his expenses, the shabby park near his building that was filled with vermin and homeless at night.

"Alright," she said cheerfully. He tried not to notice how her smile made her face brighten, how long her eyelashes were.

She scribbled in her notepad. Her quill was a long peacock feather that made everything she wrote look flourished.

"9 am, next week, we'll meet here. I'll need to send in the paperwork for the portkey this afternoon." She seemed to be speaking to herself. Her voice was excited, hurried, and seemed to float through his head like a cloud might- fuzzying everything in it's wake. "I haven't been to that part of town in a while. It will probably take longer than an hour is that alright?" He nodded but she didn't look up to check. Why were women always asking questions they didn't want the answers to?

After she was done scribbling, she looked up at him and smiled. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me about your week?"

They sat in silence for the next 40 minutes. He left quietly and she watched him walk down the street as usual.

June 26th

Draco hated to admit it, but he was rather excited to go to the gardens. He wore his nicest grey suit, with a charcoal dress shirt. The shoes were scuffed and second hand. The fabric was cheap and needed tailoring but it made him feel closer to his old life. Or perhaps at the very least, something different than what he was now. It was too hot for such an outfit but he refused to wear anything short sleeved in public. There was no known way to get rid of the mark yet. Yes it had faded into a reddish scar but it was still noticeable.

As he walked to her office, he kept feeling as if she was going to pull the rug up from under him – tell him that she couldn't get the portkey permit, was too tired, was pulling a cruel joke. He'd certainly deserved it.

But when he walked into her office, he saw her standing by the window in a faded lavender dress. Little white sandals with one-inch heels covered her feet. Her signature radish earrings hung from her ears. Her blonde hair shone like a halo around her head. Draco doubted his own pale head had ever looked so pure. She draped a light grey cloak around her shoulders and motioned for him to stand next to her.

On the sill sat a small owl figurine.

"On the count of three," she said "One, two…" They both placed their hands on the small owl and with a lurch were transported to the steps in front of the gardens.

Draco hadn't used a port key in ages. The familiar feel of slight nausea settled in but he managed to land firmly on his feet. Luna floated down next to him, the chiffon of her skirt made her look so graceful. She looked serene as she smoothed her skirt out and tucked her hair and her wand behind an ear.

"Shall we?" She said and they made their way up the stone steps to the cathedral-like greenhouse before them. Luna paid for both of them since she could write it off as an expense, carefully tucking the receipt in her bag.

They walked through the indoor facilities, then made their way through the outdoor gardens. Luna stopped every so often to point out a favorite plant or creature crawling on said plant. Occasionally she rattled on about a creature Draco had never heard of and got the impression it didn't exist. But it was nice to listen to someone talk about common things and it was nice to walk alongside another person without feeling less than. So he nodded along when she went off on a tangent and neither dissuaded nor egged her on.

The summer sun beat down pleasantly, reminding them of their time in space. It was hot and Draco had taken off his cloak and jacket. Luna had pinned her mane of hair up on top of her head like a nest. Draco thought it looked embarrassingly bohemian. They both sweated politely in the sun and made their way down to the river.

The water stretched all along the west side of the city. It was nearing noon but neither person was feeling the need to go home.

"Are you getting hungry?" Luna asked. "I could go for something…"

Draco was feeling pretty hungry but he didn't want her to buy him anything.

"Maybe a nice café… there's so many up here," she mused to herself.

They ended up choosing a small café with an outside patio. Luna ordered iced tea and Draco ordered an ice water.

As they sat, Luna took out her notebook and quill.

"How do you feel about muggles?"

Draco spit into the bushes beside them. Without missing a beat, Luna scribbled in her little book and moved on.

"How do you feel about muggle-borns?"

"There's a difference?"

Her eyebrow twitched but she continued to scrawl.

"Do you aim to complete rehabilitation, find a job, and return to mainstream society?"

"Yes."

Luna nodded and scribbled some more.

"We need to set a goal," she said. "It's part of what I'm expected to do. I'd like to say, 12 months should be an appropriate time. If by then you are still unfit I will have to send you on to another specialist."

Draco drank his water and tried not to feel upset at the notion of not seeing her again.

Finally Luna put her quill down. "I was thinking," she said. "That we should take more of these trips. They probably do much more good than sitting silently in my office does. How about next week, we go to the Memorial?"

The war memorial sat in the middle of town in front of the doors of the ministry. Large white stone structures with the names of those who died carved into the faces stood as pale beacons for pilgrims and locals alike. A definite tourist attraction but also something filled with great history and depth. Draco had never seen it. He'd read about it in the prophet and felt sick.

"Why?" he said, avoiding her eye contact. He didn't actually want her to answer. But he realized that he wanted her to keep talking.

"I haven't seen it yet. And I'd like to." Simple as that.

"Fine," he shrugged and gulped down his water. Motioned to the waitress for another.

"Then next week we'll do the same thing."

They finished lunch – Luna paid ("I can write this off!") and made their way further down the river. They went into a few bookshops, bought some flavored ice, laughed at tourists together, realized they had walked miles down the length of the city and were actually nearing their own neighborhood. They stopped into a small grocery where Draco purchased some non-perishable items. They were sore, tired, and sweaty from the heat, but content. It was nearly 5 when Draco realized they had spent the whole day together. And he hadn't minded at all.

"You live near here, right?" Luna asked him.

He cleared his throat. "A few blocks away."

He brought her to his dingy flat. Thinking over and over again in his mind –she's going to think you're a poor rat, she's going to laugh in your face because you're such a said sack of bones, is your flat even clean, have you made your bed, she's going to leave you...!

But she didn't. Instead, as Draco unlocked his door, she slipped in before he did and set the groceries on his counter. She navigated through his tiny apartment with ease and began putting the cans of peaches, beans, and bags of rice away. She went over to the window and smiled to the plant. Recited a poem Draco had never heard of.

He watched her as she did all this. Leaned against the doorframe and thought about how normal this felt. She was in his home. This little girl. This rehabilitation specialist. Didn't she know this was dangerous? His family was currently on trial for war crimes. He was a threatening figure. And she was so small. Yes his wand was banned from certain spells but there were things large men could do to small girls without the help of magic. He could pick her up and throw her like a rag doll. He could do anything to her. Didn't she understand? Was she always this irresponsible? Did she behave this way with… all her other … clients?

"You need a table," Luna said as she looked at him over her shoulder. "A dining room with table. Where do you eat?"

"On the sofa, or standing in front of the sink," he shrugged. He never found the need for a dining table because he never had guests.

She does this with all her clients...

"We'll get you one. I'm sure we can write it off on your expense report." She floated through his flat, picking up this and that. Looking at his one lamp, his radio. She avoided his bedroom, allowing him to keep that private.

She wiggles her way into their lives then drops them because she can…

"And maybe a rug," she said. "I'll bring some flowers by we can-"

That's all you are to her, you're not friends, you're not colleagues or peers, you're a project she gets paid by the government to handle…

"Stop." He was suddenly angry. Who did this girl think she was? Coming into his home and judging him like she thought her Mudblood-loving self was better than him?

"I've had enough of your nonsense for today – leave." He marched to the door and held it open for her. She looked disappointed but not angry or indignant. He wished she had. Wished she had yelled at him. Stomped her feet. Slapped him. Pressed her body onto his and –

"Leave!" He roared. Her eyes grew wide and she moved next to him in the doorway.

"I'll see you next week," she murmured before disappearing down his dark hallway and out onto the street below. She left the faint scent of something fresh mingling with her sweat and the smell of the city.

Draco wanted to slam the door behind her but instead he closed it tightly, softly, as she left.

He let out a groan and punched the dry wall next to the door. It left a small dent in the wall and the pang of impact vibrated all the way up his arm through his shoulder. He turned the shower on and stood there, ignoring the familiar throb between his legs that had jumped up somewhere along the way.

1. The Mental Traveler by William Blake.

A/N: So that's the second chapter. Opening with a sex scene is kind of corny but this is Fanfiction not my dissertation. Hope you liked it.