A/N: There is a rape scene near the end of this chapter. It's not graphic, but I don't want anyone to be unwarned. I will also warn you that having read it myself numerous times, I still cry over it.

Late 2002

It took eight months for Draco to formulate a plan on how to get into Blaise Zabini's place and talk to Luna Lovegood. His plan did not include rescuing her. That was a foolhardy mission he could not undertake. He figured he had used up years of good luck, karma, or whatever you called it, by managing to both kill Pansy and help George escape the country undetected. No, this mission only included getting information he hoped would help him track down Granger.

The Dark Lord had turned a blind eye to Blaise avoiding settling down. The dark-skinned wizard had little trouble catching the eye of various witches. Due to Blaise's loose lips during their school days, Draco knew that Zabini also had no trouble casting a contraceptive spell. Yet, after the second accidental pregnancy of an unattached witch resulted in a child that clearly belonged to Blaise, Draco suspected something was afoot. Dare he say, he was a smidgeon jealous of Blaise's sneaky way of avoiding marriage while supplying the mandatory pureblood children.

Zabini's aloof 'love them, then leave them' attitude had morphed into a 'love them, then leave them knocked up' attitude. When Draco found out a third witch was barely along with a little illegitimate Zabini in the oven, he manipulated the situation to give him the in he had been searching for.

Putting the woman under the Imperius, Draco began an insidious assault on Zabini's estate. The crafty Italian had managed to get ironclad agreements signed while paying off the first two witches to bear his offspring. This woman was not going to be so easy. And, as Zabini's solicitor, Draco was advising him to fight this third witch with everything he had, rather than settling.

Draco was beyond skilled at being a double agent by this point; playing a client off of a woman, who, via the Imperious, was in essence Draco himself, was child's play.

For the birth, Draco engineered a plot that took Blaise away from his estate for two days, forcing him to live in a guestroom at the house of the new mother. The convoluted agreement between both parties also involved all of Blaise's house elves being there to pledge themselves to the new young master. With the hope of finalizing some sort of agreement between himself and the witch, Blaise agreed.

Being the good mate he was, Draco offered one of his own elves to manage the Zabini estate during that time, apologizing, "It's the least I could do, to make up for not being able to win this one for an excellent client."

Draco's elf happily Apparated his master straight into the estate once it was empty - except for Lovegood. He found her quite easily after casting Homenum Revelio. Her signature showed up as the only one in the mansion.

Quietly walking towards the room she was held in, Draco had no idea what to expect. Heavy wards protected the area, necessitating help from Draco's elf once again. Random revelers drunkenly staggering around the manor wouldn't be able to get to where Luna was held if the head of the household and his elves were there. Luckily, Draco had expertly planned a way to be alone.

Draco certainly had not dreamt that Luna lived in an entire suite of rooms, so it was with some surprise that he took in her chambers. It was nothing like the cells any other prisoners he had dealt with were forced to live in. Luna surely had not been anywhere near that lucky when imprisoned for four months in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor as a sixteen-year-old.

"It's okay," he started out first thing upon opening the door to her outer sitting room, walking in with his hands raised where she could see they were empty.

"I know that," she answered serenely. "Although you don't have to try to pretend you can't perform wandless magic for my sake."

Draco lowered his hands to his side.

Still, he did not draw his wand; that would be beyond rude. Though he was in a position to retrieve it fractionally faster with his hand now next to his pocket.

A glance around the room showed him a good sized bookshelf full of tomes, more than one comfy chaise, and a window looking out over the grounds with an easel in front of it. The canvas sitting upon it contained a half-painted scene that looked nothing like what he could see beyond it.

"I'm painting what the land wishes to be, not what it is," the wispy witch told Draco, following his sight-line.

Unsure of exactly how to follow up that statement, Draco ignored it. "Just so you don't get your hopes up, I'm not here to rescue you. I couldn't help you the last time you were imprisoned, and I find myself in a similar bind once again," he began.

"It seems you wish to be something other than you are, too," Luna observed. "Perhaps if I painted you into my landscape, you'd be free to be yourself."

"Can you see me being free?" Draco's voice caught, a sudden hope constricting his throat.

Luna regarded him, eyes roaming from his family ring on his right hand, to the more recently added ring on his left. He tried not to flinch when her gazed skated over his left arm and instead came to rest on the pocket which held his wand.

"Show me your Patronus," she whispered.

"You know Death Eaters can't cast one," he obfuscated.

Her eyes raised to his. "Please don't lie to me, it's tiresome," she sighed.

Still, he hesitated. Only two people knew he could cast the complicated spell. One had taken endless pride in having taught it to him; the other had endlessly teased him for the form it took.

"My mother loved Muggle music. I remember the way her hair glittered like fairy dust in the summer sun. She always seemed to be listening to a transistor radio while gardening." Luna's mind seemed to be going off in a different direction after he took too long to comply with her request.

Luna's singing voice sounded nothing like her speaking voice. It was low and husky. With her eyes closed, she twirled slowly while she sang. "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose…"

Letting her words wash over him, Draco closed his eyes too. Emotions overwhelming him, he drew his wand out, a collage of moments and scenes flickering behind his eyelids. "Expecto Patronum," he stated clearly, focusing on the happiness Hermione had brought into his otherwise dark life.

Luna stopped singing. Sensing the spell had worked, he opened his eyes, finding Luna with a look of pure joy on her face as she took in the glowing little ferret floating between them. She clapped her hands and laughed.

"Mine's a hare, you know." No, he had not known. Luna continued, "Harry taught it to me. Hermione's otter Patronus liked to chase it. I suppose hers likes yours more than it did mine, though."

Completely forgetting any hesitation he had felt before entering the room, Draco latched onto Luna's use of the present tense. "Is Hermione alive? Can you see where she is?"

"Yes."

Like a candle being snuffed out, the glowing ferret snapped out of existence. Draco's fist clenched around his wand. "Yes? Just 'yes'?"

"Yes," she repeated. He waited a beat for her to elaborate, but she didn't seem inclined to say more.

"Can you tell me where she is?" he snapped.

Stepping towards him, her hand held up against her heart, Luna stopped only an arm's length from him. "I can feel her in here." Luna tapped her chest. "And I can see her in here," she added, pressing her palm to his sternum.

Draco ripped her hand away from his body. "I don't want your gibberish, Luna. I want to know if you can help me find her again. The real her."

"It's time for you to go," Luna said, turning her back on him to walk to her painting and pick up a brush. "Don't worry, I won't tell Blaise you were here."

"Wait! You haven't told me anything!" Draco's voice rose desperately. Stalking over to Luna's easel, he raked a hand through his hair, trying to think what to say.

Luna dabbed her brush in a dark red color and began to fill in the sun with it. "I told you, it's time."

The urge to grab her and shake her nearly overwhelmed Draco. He wanted to try out some of the things on her that he had done to Pansy. In the end, Pansy had talked. Doubtless, he could make Luna talk, too.

"No, no, no," he asserted, shaking his head, regaining control over his thoughts. Luna seemed to understand he wasn't responding to her when he spoke aloud; she did not acknowledge him.

Guilt flooded him, causing him to blurt out, "Is Blaise treating you okay? I mean, you seem fine here, not withstanding Blaise holding you prisoner for the Dark Lord."

Luna's strokes paused as she looked over her shoulder to him. A thin smile ghosted her lips without reaching her eyes. "He will keep me as safe as he can, for as long as he can."

The envy Draco had fleetingly held in regards to Blaise's sly way of avoiding marriage through bondless procreation had vanished even before he had his elf return him to Malfoy Manor.

Years after their conversation, when Luna died, it was a public spectacle. The Dark Lord called a revel at Zabini Manor and had her paraded out before them all. He wove a tale of Blaise capturing her when she tried to sneak back into England from South America. Draco could only assume her prophecies were no longer needed.

As a reward for apprehending such a high level traitor, Blaise was given the honor having her first in front of everyone. With a flick of his wrist, their Lord divested Luna of her clothing. With another flick, the woman was flat on her back with shackles holding her hands above her head and her legs apart.

The crowd began to form a circle around her, many jockeying for prime viewing, or a spot where they could be easily in line to have her next. Draco moved into place as expected.

Horror blossomed in Draco's chest, directly under the spot where he could feel the memory of Luna's hand ghosting over him, as he watched Blaise unbutton the fly on his trousers. The dark-skinned wizard's face betrayed none of his feelings - he wore the same sneer Draco had seen any number of times before when in this same situation. Draco forced himself to keep his eyes trained on Blaise's moving hips the entire time, with a fake smirk plastered on just in case anyone glanced his way. There was always someone watching the crowd, rather than the action, looking for signs of weakness.

When it came to be Draco's turn, he slipped inside Luna's mind, trying to give her the peace his body couldn't. He found her huddled in a dark corner, hands over her head. Calling her name, Draco begged Luna to open her eyes. Finally, his pleading tone broke through, and she raised her tear-streaked face.

Magic worked best when in proximity to its target, which could perhaps account for Draco's ability to pull every happy thought into the forefront of his mind to create a Patronus inside their shared conscious. One final time, his intent became reality, producing an ethereal ferret.

Luna choked out a sob when it nudged her hand. "Did you ever look up what ferrets symbolize?" she whispered, her bloodshot eyes meeting his.

"A secretive nature. Resourcefulness. A loner who can circumvent a problem through cunning and planning, rather than tackling it head on. Ruthlessness."

Canting her head to the side, Luna regarded Draco as he listed each characteristic. And then, surprisingly, she smiled. "You left one out. Methodically searching for a given target."

"Show me your hare," he cajoled, wishing to ask her for more, but knowing time was running out.

In an act more intimate than the one his corporeal body was performing, Draco witnessed Luna's happiest moments as she struggled to do as he asked.

He let her hare chase his ferret as long as he could.