A/N: This is a shorter one but I like it a lot. I feel like we got some places. Next chapter will be a decent length one.

July 7th

"You went to a party?"

Luna was at Ginny and Harry's home in the country. Although it was a relatively new move, they had already filled it with furniture, paintings, photos and the like. Little stacks of mess sat peacefully here and there. The building felt cozy and warm. Even more so, when guests were about. Ginny was having everyone over for an early supper and after eating, people had spread out around the house and the garden to relax. A casual game of quidditch had emerged and a bonfire emerged as the sun began to set.

Luna sat under a tree in the garden with Ginny a little bit away from the rest of the crowd. Gatherings like this had a first been every month but as people had begun to settle into their lives it seemed they only occurred a few times a year. At first they could only be around each other. It was as if they spoke a language only they understood. It was one that was heavy and full like a rag in desperate need for ringing. But already, they were returning to real life. Relearning what was normal.

"Yes," Luna said. "And it was… not unpleasant."

Luna looked out across the large yard. It sprawled and met with a large field of untended wheat that was not part of Ginny and Harry's land but was unused by anyone else. The sun was gone but the glow still remained just above the rolling hills that surrounded their home. She was glad they had gotten out of the city. They both deserved some peace and quiet.

She thought about how wholesome this gathering felt compared to the party she had attended just last night. No pipe-smoke or jazz band or contortionists here. No most of her old school friends stopped drinking after a couple pitchers of ale. Got home by 9.

It was a quiet life and they all deserved some quiet after the war. But times were changing within the city- artists were finding new ways to starve, a muggle cinemaplex grew evermore popular, protests at the ministry from squib-rights activists was quickly becoming a norm, ex death eaters were trying to return to mainstream life.

Luna had been thinking about Draco lately more than ever. In fact, and for this she felt positively guilty; she had even grown a little weary of her other clients. Like many specialists she had a full load of wizards wishing to trade prison and isolation for the chance of a new life. But none of them she had known in school. And none of them made her feel rather disappointed when they left if only because she wanted them to stay a bit longer.

When she was hired she attended a 9 hour workshop discussing ethics and confidentiality. Something that wasn't explicitly stated but was heavily implied – don't date your clients.

The sound of Ginny's voice pulled Luna out of her thoughts and back onto the soft patch of grass she was sitting on.

"-what exactly did you not understand when I told you to be safe?" Ginny was livid with concern.

Luna shrugged. "It was just a party. And it was fascinating. So many different types of people in one room. Nott is a… what did Draco call him? A collector."

"First name basis, client my ass…" Ginny muttered under her breath and then sighed. "What will Hermione do when she finds out your fraternizing with the patient?"

"Probably hold a meeting. And then perhaps fire me. Or simply take him off my roster… and then fire me."

"Don't you care about your job Luna? I thought you got into head-healing because… well I don't know! Why did you?"

"I think…" Luna looked up at the sky. The clouds were tined dark purple and blues like bruises. She always had to work hard to keep her mind from wandering these days. "I wanted to help because it seemed like the right thing to do after the war. I understand what it's like to feel isolated from society. To feel alone. To doubt your own emotions, thoughts, and feelings. Compassion. Respect. Those are the mantras of my work but I don't see it in other specialists. Draco-" Ginny scoffed at the sound of his name. –"had three specialists give up on him before he was given to me. He has attachment issues. Probably PTSD. If I leave him, then I'll just be another person who's left him and given up. Another reason for him to be mad at the world. Another reason for him to hate everything and everyone. I think I can help him but… I think after he laves, I may be done. I want to travel Ginny!" Luna smiled at her friend as a summer wind whipped through her hair, tangling her blonde with Ginny's scarlet. A blade of grass fell in her eye, hesitated, then flew off to join it's kind. "I want to live in the future. No more of this past nonsense. It's so outdated."

"Oh Luna," Ginny sighed and put her arm around her friend.

"Oi! Luna!" Neville waved from across the lawn. "I found a thorny percillus flower!"

Luna stood up, brushed the grass off of her legs and floated over to her dear friend. "Those are good for warts caused by Yunko bugs!" she exclaimed.

"I hope you find what you're looking for," Ginny murmured into the air.

There were some things Luna hadn't told Ginny about the party. She hadn't told her about the lanterns filled with real fairies, or the room filled with nothing but people snogging each other, or all the house elves that scampered about the house bringing food and booze to the guests.

She hadn't told Ginny about how uncomfortable Draco seemed at first, only to down a few shots of fire whiskey and then appear well at ease. She didn't tell her about how pleasant all her conversations with Nott and his eccentric friends were – even if he was a "collector" he couldn't be accused of having no taste. She didn't tell Ginny about the half werewolf wizard who told her stories of his experiences in Kazakhstan and Niger. About the contortionist who knew how to lift ten pounds using the muscles in her vagina. About the wand-making apprentice who had studied Naga's in India and Egypt.

She didn't tell Ginny about how she finally decided it was time to leave around 5 in the morning and how she gathered Draco in her arms. How he leaned against her heavy with drink. How he smelled of alcohol and spice and his own unique warmth. How when she attempted to use the portkey to get them back to her apartment the weight of his body and their drunken states made them fall in a heap in the middle of her living room – her on her stomach and him half on top of her, almost passed out.

She hadn't told Ginny about how soft his features looked in the moonlight that fell through her French windows. Or how she had leant down to caress his fine cheekbones, moving his hair out of his eyes so she could see him better. Or how he opened his grey eyes and looked up at her and smiled.

"That was fun," he had said. "I forgot how fun old Theo can be..."

"You can sleep here," she had told him. She felt light headed. At least, more than usual. "On my sofa. I'll get you a blanket. Don't want to get any mumbunger – I mean, mumwunger infestations this time of year."

Draco had laughed- nearly giggled – "What the bloody hell are mumdungers!" he turned over onto his back and covered his face with his hands. His speech was slurred. Then he had looked at her and said, "Come here. Come here."

I don't want to be alone.

And then she had moved towards him and he had traced the outline of her lips with his fingers, and then he had cupped her face in his large hands, and then he had pulled her down and kissed her on her mouth – slightly off center – and let his tongue caress hers in the darkness. And then he kissed her again and again. She hadn't told Ginny how his mouth tasted like whisky and smoke and longing but also like nothing at all. And he hadn't asked anything else of her.

In between kisses he had murmured things in her ear. Trailed down her jawline and found the sensitive points on her neck. Told her how long he'd wanted to do this to her. How he watched that damned half-breed werewolf talk to her at the party how he could tell he wanted to fuck her. But look who had her now. And other terrible things she dare not let herself remember.

When his hand had moved down her body and caressed more than she had wished, she had sobered slightly and separated from him.

And she had gotten up to help him fix the couch with blankets and an extra pillow. And when she turned to leave he caught her hand in his fist and said, "Stay." And she let him wrap himself around her and breathe into her hair. And they were concealed by the darkness and there was no talk of the past or the future.

And sometime after that they fell asleep.

She hadn't told Ginny any of that.

She also didn't mention Draco awaking soon after falling asleep. He was shouting incoherently. His head writhed back and forth and sweat pored from his brow. Luna awoke with a start and tried to get up to see what the matter was but he pulled her back in his sleep screaming – "No!"

She had noticed how he flinched whenever there was a loud bang in public and how he avoided eye contact with people on the street. How he isolated himself. How he seemed to take constant vigilance to heart. And now he was screaming in his sleep. And she was very uncomfortable and slightly hung over and she wanted him to let her go.

She tried again to wriggle out of his vice like grip and almost made it. Suddenly, he awoke – his eyes violent and crazed – grabbed her and pushed her onto the hardwood floor. Pressed his thumbs into her neck. Tried to squeeze the life out of her.

Self preservation set in and Luna brought a small hand up to his face to punch him. He reared back and shook his head like a dog coming out of the sea. He looked at her. Looked at her bruised throat. Looked at his hands. The empty sofa. The pale morning light. His face crumpled and Luna thought he looked so small. He wasn't there.

"Shhh…" she crawled over to him and gently urged him back onto the sofa. She caressed her head and soothed him. Coaxing him back to sleep. "Have good dreams… it's over…. You're safe Draco…."

When she woke it was late in the day. Draco had awoken before her and left. He left her a note, however. Told her he needed to water his plant. It didn't seem insincere.

She had taken a long bath, thinking about mumwungers and also Draco. About her job. The state of the ministry. Her youthful self who once dreamt of traveling the world, navigating through valleys and mountain cliffs, documenting every mythical beast she could find.

She thought about how odd and inevitable it felt that she would have feelings for a client. She wondered how long it would take for her to get fired. She wondered if she was attracted to people that had problems because it allowed her to feel healthy for once. She always knew she had a different perspective than other children growing up. Watching your mother die does that to a child. But for a long time, she was able to just be the odd girl. It was better than being the depressed girl.

She got out of her bath and glamored her bruises away. She had never been attacked by a client before. Once, one destroyed her whole office and threatened to kill her but he came back the next session with a piece of cake and an apology. Three months later he was able to return to civilian life.

Draco's hands had felt so solid. What if he had killed her. This is why we don't go to parties with our clients, get drunk, bring them home and make out with them. She was going to be fired.

And indeed, when she walked back into her kitchen for some water, two owls were waiting for her at her window.

She took both envelopes from the owls and gave them a treat each. They blinked and fluffed their wings.

She opened the first letter – a familiar ministry seal was burned onto the parchment. The letterhead read, Elijah Mink, Rehabilitation Supervisor. Her supervisor was requesting a meeting with her to discuss her clients. Luna sighed and sent a hasty reply, which included the days she was free in the near future.

The other letter as on unfamiliar letterhead. When she opened it she was not unpleased to see it was from Theodore Nott. He thanked her for coming to his party and asked that she come again some time. He told her he enjoyed her perspective on life and that he thought it would be good for his dear old friend Malfoy. Perhaps she was just the medicine he needed.

Luna wasn't sure what to write back so she sent his owl on his way empty handed and kept the letter on her dining room table. She still thought Draco ought to have one. But one thing at a time.

Then she had gotten dressed and left for Ginny and Harry's.

A/N: Tell me what you think. Till next time friends.