A/N: Hi. I'm back. Kind of. If you're still here, thank you so much for your patience! The past year and a half have been a lot for me and getting in the headspace for this story has been hard.

But I have (sort of) good news! This chapter turned into a beast, so there will be two (short-ish) updates as I have split the chapter into two parts! So, without further adieu, here's part one of Luna's show!

—o—

Chapter 12 (Part I)

Soundtrack: "End of an Era" by The Strumbellas

—o—

Draco climbed out of the fireplace, glancing around Ginny's flat, which now somehow seemed more familiar than his own. He had spent nearly every evening and morning over the past week here, assuring himself that he was resting while keeping Ginny company. Throughout that time, he kept trying to convince himself that finding Ginny snuggled up against him, either asleep herself or watching her telly, was exactly what he needed to get back to normal. That spending time with her would bring that normalcy he needed sooner than if he sat around by himself.

However, he worried, deep down, that he had been hiding. Hiding from the press and people's reactions to what they were reading; hiding from his mother, who had been at his flat several times, and sending owls, awaiting his response to her last request; hiding from the fact that in less than a week his father would be re-entering the real world…

But in reality, all the drama aside, he really had been spending most of his time resting, or going over the research he hadn't allowed himself the time to think about. It had seemed that the more he slept the more fatigued he felt. Like his body was only letting itself relax in stages, slowly, not trusting him to actually allow it the time it needed to recuperate properly.

He wondered if Ginny had experienced something similar when her "forced vacation" had first started. He hadn't thought to ask.

All week, he had felt like he would never feel awake and alert ever again; and it had worried him. His depression had felt that way when it was bad: a chronic stupor, in which he could sleep all day but never feel rested. He didn't want to slip back into that state ever again. Especially not now, when there was so much to be awake for.

"Meow!"

Draco looked across the room to see her damned cat on his usual perch, glaring at him.

Sighing, he walked over to the thing and scratched his head.

"Can't even be bothered to come over and greet me properly?" he asked him. "We'll prove Weasley wrong yet."

He snorted. He was never going to like this thing, nor be its friend. He was determined to hate him forever.

It was principle of it, really.

"Gin," he called, giving the feline's ear one final scratch before turning around. "Are you"—he faltered— "Ready…?"

Ginny stood in the mouth of the hallway, watching him. There was a little smirk on her lips, that barely registered in his mind as his eyes wandered across a full length, midnight blue velvet dress, which hugged her in all the right places.

It barely showed off any skin, yet somehow it was still oddly scandalous.

He loved it.

When he finally looked up and met her eyes his heart skipped a beat.

It was a good thing, really, he realized absently, that she rarely wore makeup or had her hair pulled up in such a way that it framed her face so perfectly: otherwise, he never would have lasted this long without doing something incredibly, damnably stupid. Like confess his undying love to her. Or beg her to let him stay at her side forever.

Because, in that moment, that was all he could think to do: drop to his knees and beg.

"I am," she said, giving him a sultry smile and walking up to him.

His eyes locked onto her hips.

"Weasley," he said softly, dragging his eyes up to her face once more, his voice a little throaty.

She smiled up at him.

"You grew."

"I—what?"

He laughed at her incredulous expression and his own stupidity. He supposed it was better than begging. But not by much.

"You grew," he repeated, running his hand along her thigh before tugging the fabric up slowly, revealing three-inch stilettos.

"Are you sure you're going to be able to stay upright in these?" he asked, raising the fabric up even higher, appreciating the way her nylons accentuated the muscles in her legs. "It's just that you seem to have problems when your feet are flat on the ground."

"Keep it up and I might accidentally step on your foot," she all but snarled, yanking the fabric out of his hand. "As I fall."

Draco laughed again, then reached out, this time wrapping his hands around her waist. She leant back, scowling at him, so he took a step forward, shifting his grip.

He froze as his fingers brushed against bare skin.

Pulling back, he frowned, carefully pressing on her sides to turn her around.

She gave him an unimpressed look but allowed him to do so.

The dress did not have a back.

Instead, it swooped so low that he could clearly see the Venusian dimples near the base of her spine.

"I don't think we can go tonight," he said calmly, his fingers trailing down her spine before he could stop them.

"I don't look that bad."

"You don't look bad at all," he said, vaguely annoyed that she would even suggest such a thing.

He dipped his head and nipped at the side of her neck, making her squeak.

"Quite the opposite. That's the problem."

He kissed the same spot, his hands finding her hips as she tilted her head to the side.

He tugged her back against him.

"You should go get one of your brother's sweaters."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, her voice annoyed, even as she leant into him. "It's black-tie, remember?"

"You say that like I should care," he replied, holding her closer and nuzzling her neck.

He would just have to convince her that his plan was better.

But she stepped out of his grasp, turning around, and blocking his view of her exposed skin.

"You should care," Ginny told him, smiling in earnest now. "And you do." She poked his forehead. "Or at least, this brain does."

He caught her hand and kissed it, tempted to put her hand to better use, but let it go instead.

Bloody hell, this dress had put his mind straight in the gutter, hadn't it? And he had been so careful up until now, carefully hiding and Occluding those thoughts away, ever since that incident when her face had contorted in pain…

"Fine," he said with a huff, shoving all distracting thoughts back down into their box and shoving it aside. For now. "Then we should go before you make us late."

He glanced around, noticing the cloak draped across the back of her couch. Or rather, it had been a cloak, now it was more of a short cape: something he'd seen Muggle women wear before. He picked it up and held it out for her.

"Is this going to be our thing?" she asked, allowing him to help her into the garment. "I get all dressed up and you try to convince me we need to change our plans?"

Her words bounced around in his head, and a grin tugged at his lips. They were turning into a couple who had things.

"Would that be a problem?" he asked, pointedly ignoring the slight shake to his fingers as he did up the ornate brass buttons.

"I suppose that depends on what we have planned," she said with a coy smile.

His own grin spread at the sight of it.

"Oh?" he said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss below her ear. "So, you're saying I could convince you to stay in?"

He pressed a kiss along her jaw, smirking slightly as she titled her head once again, her fingers curling into the fabric of his coat.

A few kisses couldn't hurt. Kisses were safe.

"Because I'm sure Luna would understand. In fact,"—he kissed the side of her mouth— "I think she'd be quite happy."

He pressed his lips gently against hers.

"On any other occasion I might agree with you," she said when he pulled back, smiling at him. "But tonight is about her, not us, remember? It's her big night."

Draco sighed, stepping back and running a hand over his hair, annoyed that he had let that fact slip from his mind. Ginny Weasley had such a way of making things slip from his mind; she always had. And, he supposed, therein lay the problem.

"I know," he said finally, leaning forward and kissing her forehead.

He tried to lean back but was stopped by Ginny's hand gripping the lapel of his coat.

He frowned slightly before she tugged him towards her and crushed her lips against his. Then, before his brain could even get into the kiss, she was pushing him away again, her eyes smouldering.

She stepped back towards the door.

"Shall we?"

He gaped after her, then shook his head.

"You," he growled, stepping forward, catching her face and hip. "Are a tease."

He tilted her head and kissed her roughly, even as the rational part of his brain began to scream at him. This was supposed to be in the box! He couldn't follow through, so don't start!

So, as quickly as she had, he pushed her back away and tugged the door open. He shoved her now howling cat aside and dragged her out of the flat before she could react.

"What—" she sputtered, as he locked her door and led her to the elevator.

"Come on, Weasley," he drawled. "We're going to be late for Luna's show."

"You—"

"It's her big night, remember? We can't be late."

"You're the worst!" she exclaimed with a laugh, stomping her heeled foot.

Draco grinned at her, catching her hand, and kissing it.

"You love it."

—o—

"Draco," Ginny said, interrupting the companionable silence they had been walking through for the past five minutes.

Despite only being able to apparate a few blocks away, and the precariousness of Ginny's shoes, the redhead had insisted they walk rather than take a cab, as Draco had reasonably suggested. He suspected there were more charms on those shoes than one of her brother's inventions, otherwise he would have heard about it by now.

"Hmm?"

He glanced down at her, noting how the streetlights made her hair glow like fire. It was almost as distracting as the warmth of her hand where it rested on his arm.

"I've been meaning to ask you, but how popular is Luna in Muggle terms?"

He considered her words for a moment.

"Well, in terms of the Muggle art community, I guess she's as popular as you are in the Quidditch world."

"So, she's pretty famous," Ginny said, grinning cheekily.

"Someone has a very high opinion of herself."

"Well, I do play for the best team in the league."

"That's funny. I didn't realize you played for the Magpies."

Ginny stopped walking, forcing him to stop along side her.

"You can't honestly be serious," she demanded, her eyes flashing.

His heart thudded painfully against his chest. There was her fire showing through again. Merlin, it was glorious.

"Of course, I'm serious," he said, focusing on keeping his voice level. He refused to point out when this version of herself emerged, lest he make her self-conscious of when it wasn't around. "I've told you this before: I'm always serious. Except when I'm not."

"Then you're being ridiculous."

"No," he said calmly, smirking at her. "In this relationship, that's what you are."

A little thrill went through him at the word relationship, and another as Ginny continued on as though the word wasn't out of place. Which it wasn't, he supposed, seeing as they were officially dating.

"Obviously you're mistaken, because right now you're the one being absolutely ridiculous. Everyone knows that the Harpies are a far superior team. The Magpies didn't even make it into the finals last year."

"I honestly don't think you get a say, Weasley," he drawled. "Seeing as how you play for the League."

"I'm not playing right now," she pointed out, pain flashing briefly across her face, the fire diminishing once more.

"Yes," he agreed, bring her hand to his lips and pressing a firm kiss against her skin. "And the Harpies haven't been doing very well, have they?"

"They're just so devastated by my absence," she said with a dramatic sigh. He almost bought that she wasn't still upset. "People really notice when I'm not around."

"Probably has something to do with how quiet and serene it suddenly becomes."

Her expression fell further and she glared at him, eyes sparking.

"Just you wait, Malfoy," she said, shaking her head. "One day you'll regret your flippant words."

"Doubtful," he replied indifferently, shifting his grip to twine his fingers with hers. He looked at her intently, and her cheeks began to turn pink.

"We're going to be late," she said, glancing away. Though she squeezed his hand as she did so.

"We are," he agreed. "So, you better stop distracting us."

"Funny how it's always my fault," she said, rolling her eyes as they continued on. "You might be more trouble than you're worth, Malfoy."

"Doubtful," Draco replied, squeezing her hand again, even as his mind began to wonder the exact same thing.

Ginny stopped once more and tugged on his hand, and he turned to find her expression serious.

"I didn't mean that," she said quietly. She tipped up on her toes and kissed the side of his mouth. "You might actually be one of my favourite things. And thus, definitely worth the trouble."

Draco blinked down at her, his mind perfectly blank.

She grinned at him then spun away, tugging him along behind her.

"Come on, I'm ready to eat finger foods!"

"Always thinking with your stomach," Draco managed, following obediently after her, wondering, not for the first time, how this had become his life.

It wasn't until they were in the gallery, coats checked, and Ginny's hand resting in the crook of his arm, that Draco once again remembered why they had left her flat. He felt his pulse pick up in the most peculiar fashion as he looked around the gallery.

Luna's work sprawled, in all its massive glory, across the walls, each painting's pallet clashing profoundly with its neighbour, as though there was a story to tell. Which, Draco suspected, they did. And, though they weren't actually moving, as they normally did, the colours and swirls still seemed to dance across their canvases, vibrating in their intensity.

"What on earth has Luna gotten herself into?" Ginny asked him softly.

"I told you: this is as good as it gets in the British Muggle art world," he whispered back.

"Wow," Ginny said, then turned and grinned at him. "Luna's famous."

"Yah," Draco said with a snort. "She is. And no one on our side gives a damn."

"Bully for them." Ginny looked around. "It's too bad the Muggles can't see how they're supposed to move. That's my favourite part. Though they still seem to… shimmer somehow, don't they?"

As they moved through the space, Draco gave Ginny a quick once over. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, but her eyes, instead of flicking from person to person as he had seen them do during his presentation, were instead focused on the art hanging on the walls.

He let go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and began to lead her across the room.

He had just begun to relax when Ginny's grip on his arm increased.

"Is that him?"

Draco looked over to where she was focused, and saw Luna, dressed in a bizarrely lovely lemon and lime gauzy gown. He wondered how he could have missed her: she stood out like a bloody beacon. She was glowing like a sun, pulling in the attention of everyone and everything around her.

Standing beside her was the infamous Rolf Scamander, who looked stiff and uncomfortable in a tuxedo, but was smiling at whatever Luna was telling him and—Draco sighed—Neville Longbottom.

"Oh, and Neville made it," Ginny said happily, her grip on his arm relaxing.

Draco glanced at her but bit his tongue. He usually tried to forget Longbottom existed, let alone that he had been, and still was, so close with the two witches in his life. The three of them during his last year in Hogwarts…

But, if Longbottom had that sort of calming effect on Ginny, then Draco couldn't bemoan the wizard that much. At least, not right now.

"How delightful," Draco said before he could stop himself, earning him a glare from Ginny.

"Be nice," she chided him, now leading him forward.

"Malfoys aren't nice," he all but sneered.

"Then be kind," she replied, rolling her eyes, and relaxing just a bit more. "I know it's also not a word associated with Malfoys, but it is one I know applies to you."

"You don't know me," Draco said petulantly, though there was a fluttering in his stomach. He had spent so much of the past decade trying to embody a life of kindness—a life which had been so alien to him growing up—that hearing Ginny, of all people, recognize it, was… wonderful.

"Of course not," she said, squeezing his arm once more.

"Hi," Luna said dreamily as they joined them.

She stepped away from the two wizards beside her and gave each of them a hug. She lingered at Ginny's ear, whispering something, then waiting until the other witch nodded and smiled, before moving on to Draco, kissing him on the cheek as she always did.

"I knew you would get here soon."

"And here we are," Draco said with a smile. "You look lovely."

"Thank you, Draco," Luna replied, her smile brightening before she turned to Ginny once more. "Ginny, this is Rolf. Rolf, this is Ginny."

Ginny turned and offered her good hand to the other man, who fumbled slightly before managing to shake it awkwardly with his own left hand.

Draco watched, wondering how much of it was an act.

"Sorry," Ginny said with a bit of a laugh. "I like to make things awkward lately."

"No need to apologize," Scamander assured her, smiling, his cheeks ruddy. "I had a similar experience with your partner a couple of weeks ago." He turned to Draco, and held out his right hand. "Healer Malfoy."

"Mr. Scamander," Draco replied, not hesitating this time, though he was again surprised by the strength of the man's grip.

The other wizard's attention didn't hold long however, as his eyes were drawn back to Ginny, like a moth to a flame.

Unfortunately, Draco knew the feeling, though he didn't appreciate seeing it in another bloke.

They both watched her go on her toes as she kissed Longbottom on the cheek, who grinned back at her like they were up to something.

Draco sincerely hoped that they weren't.

"Hey, Gin."

"Hey, Nev."

Draco took her hand as she stepped back and Longbottom's eyes lingered on their hands, before meeting his gaze.

"Malfoy," he said, his tone almost resigned.

"Longbottom," Draco replied, his eyes narrowing.

"So, how is the show going?" Ginny asked, her voice a little louder than normal. Both he and Longbottom turned their attention to her. "There are a lot of people."

"A lot of very well-dressed people," Scamander said, fiddling with his cuffs. The stones in them matched Luna's dress.

"Not one for dressing up, Scamander?" Draco asked, watching him.

The other wizard shrugged, his face turning redder.

"No, not so much," he replied, shooting Luna a grin. "I'll never get used to you Brits and your fancy parties. But for Luna I'll wear a monkey-suit any day."

"And it's muchly appreciated," Luna said, reaching out and squeezing his forearm.

It was something she did to Draco often, and it made something in his chest hurt to see her do it to someone else.

"If it's any consolation, I'm not much of a fan either," Longbottom said with a shrug.

Draco frowned slightly, noting the very expensive and well-tailored suit the other wizard was wearing. It seemed incongruent with what he knew of him. Though, to be fair, most of his knowledge was about a decade out of date.

"I need to mingle for a bit," Luna told them, her eyes focused on something across the room. Draco wondered if anyone else could see what it was. "I'll be back as soon as I can." She stood on her toes and kissed Scamander on the cheek.

Again, Draco's chest hurt, almost like something was being torn away from him.

However, he was distracted from it by Luna's hand squeezing his forearm gently as she walked by. It was as though she knew he was feeling it.

Draco watched her move into the crowd of people, watching the Muggles' faces light up as she interacted with them. Her quirkiness would have put them off normally, but in the setting as artist she was embraced with open arms.

He wished, for Luna's sake, that people would be accepting of her in any setting.

"I believe that you are the first professional Quidditch player that I've met," Scamander was saying, causing Draco turned back around. He tried not to frown as he saw that the other wizard once again had his eyes fixed on Ginny.

"I'm sure you'll meet a few more if you stick around here," Ginny said, not seeming to notice how much attention Scamander was paying her.

Someone walked up with a tray full of champagne flutes, and all four of them declined with a series of shaken heads or waved hands. Draco focused on Scamander once more. Interesting.

"Our community is quite condensed here," Ginny continued.

"I've noticed that," Scamander replied with a nod.

And it was, compared to America, as Draco had realized with delight at the time. A wizard could easily hide amongst the millions of Muggles quite easily.

"How long have you been playing?" Scamander asker. "Luna tells me you're quite good."

"Gin's played for England's national team for the past three years," Draco said before he could stop himself.

Ginny looked up at him, and something inside him warmed pleasantly at the look of gratitude she gave him. He slipped his hand around her waist, a gratifying thrill travelling up his spine as she took a half step closer to him.

He also noted the odd expression on Longbottom's face. It was like he was re-evaluating something, but Draco wasn't interested in figuring out what it was. He didn't care what Longbottom had to think of him.

"Impressive," Scamander said. "That would be for the World Cup? I hear that's a pretty big deal over here." Ginny shrugged modestly, while Draco nodded his head curtly. 'Big deal' was an understatement really. "But you play for the League as well, don't you?"

"For the Holyhead Harpies," Ginny replied, smiling. "The only all-witches team."

"For a reason?"

"Nah, just habit, I think." She glanced at Draco once more, and he carefully squeezed her waist.

"I have to admit I've never been a fan of Quidditch," Scamander said with a sheepish shrug. "Quodpot is much more popular back home. No women on the teams though, which is a pity." Ginny snorted, though Draco was more inclined to be affronted for her. "Now if only Quidditch was a bit more exciting like Quodpot, then I'd be set."

"Quidditch is exciting," Ginny said, her tone light. "And far less violent than Quodpot, from what I understand."

"Ah, but that's where the excitement is," Scamander said, his eyes twinkling.

A fixation on violence and women… how properly American.

"I think most of us have had more than enough violence to last us a lifetime," Longbottom said quietly, and Scamander had the grace to look embarrassed. Draco was almost impressed by the former Gryffindor.

"Fair enough," Scamander replied, nodding his head. "Perhaps I'll come to appreciate Quidditch if I spend some more time watching it."

"You make it sound like you're going to be staying for a while," Draco said, keeping his voice and posture neutral. He wasn't sure he was ready to hear the answer he suspected was coming.

"I think I might be," the other wizard said with a smile. "Granddad's having trouble keeping staff, and my dad's useless when it comes to creatures. So, I'm the next in line to help out."

Scamander offered them a lopsided grin that made Draco want to punch him in the face. It was so… Hufflepuff. And Draco was no longer sure if it was an accurate reflection of who the man actually was. Was it all an act? Or was he both an awkward bumbling mess, and a broken arsehole? Could someone be both? A Hufflepuff shoved into a role that had ruined him?

"Though I think I need to invest in more wool," Scamander continued blithely. "The damp cold here is way more pervasive than I expected."

"You haven't been here before?" Ginny asked.

"Not in the winter," Scamander said, shaking his head. "We were usually home by September so I could go back to school. And the habit sort of stuck around after I was finished." He shivered theatrically. "Can't say I was missing much. Makes me just want to hibernate."

Merlin, what did Luna see in this bloke?

"It's not that bad," Ginny said with a smile, and Draco had to resist the strong urge to tug her closer to his side, to remind her where he was. He had nothing to be upset about. Nothing at all. Just some entitled American git charming his witches away… Not that they were his, per say, but still…

"It's really just an excuse to leave the island," Longbottom chimed in. "My fiancé insists on travelling as much as possible as soon as November hits."

"How is Pansy?" Ginny asked.

Draco frowned.

"She's doing really well," Longbottom said with a silly grin on his face. "She's at another show in Milan right now, and it sounds like her new collection is being really well received."

"Pansy?" Draco asked, his mind whirling.

All three of them turned to look at him.

"You don't mean—"

"You don't think you're the only snake that has a thing for Gryffindors, do you, Malfoy?" Longbottom asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Draco stared.

Well, that was just so… very unexpected.

"Not anymore," Draco said carefully, resisting the urge to think about the logistics of how that had happened, let alone how he hadn't heard about it before.

However, it wasn't like any of his former friends and classmates had gotten back in touch since he returned to England.

Though, to be fair, he hadn't reached out either. And Luna wouldn't have even thought to mention it. Ginny, however… well, there had been a lot going on.

"Snakes?" Scamander asked, watching them.

Draco caught the calculating look this time. Perhaps, he was just really good at hiding. Or maybe he would forget what he actually was from time to time? He wondered if Longbottom had noticed yet as well. How well did the New World train their Aurors?

"Slytherins," Longbottom said with a sneer in his voice, which was belied by the grin he shot at Draco. A grin he didn't quite know what to do with.

"Hogwarts has four houses," Ginny added, pressing herself a bit more closely against his side. "They're supposed to make it easier to find your place, but really they just create all sort of awful divisions."

"Ah."

The word seemed to hold more understanding than it should have. Scamander looked between the three of them for a moment, then grinned.

"Ilvermorny has houses too, though they're more just to indicate which wing of the institution you sleep in. No one really identifies with them."

"Why's that?" Ginny asked.

Scamander opened his mouth to reply, then frowned, looking at something over Draco's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, stiffening beside Draco.

"Who's that with Luna?"

He, Longbottom, and Ginny turned, and Draco felt himself recoil inside.

"Harry," Ginny and Longbottom said, while Draco said: "Potter."

However, Draco was too distracted to feel elated about The Git Who Couldn't be Bothered with Death not being recognized.

Luna was fervently talking to him, her hand on his arm. This wouldn't have been so out of place, if not for the fact that the bespectacled git was ruddy in the face, shaking his head.

Draco took a step forward, before he realized he had done so.

Ginny's hand on his arm stopped him.

Potter glanced over at them, as though he could feel all four sets of eyes on him, but he didn't even react, just turned back to Luna, nodding his head.

What the hell was he doing here? He never came to Luna's shows. And why would he? Yes, the two of them had been friends in Hogwarts, but once he became an Auror he had been too busy for Luna, or so she had told him. Which was ridiculous, considering Longbottom was also an Auror, and he made time for Luna (and apparently for wooing Pansy as well), much to Draco's chagrin. So, when had that changed for Potter?

A glance at Ginny told him she was equally as confused.

Was something wrong?

Draco glanced around the gallery quickly, free hand finding his wand in his pocket, but he couldn't see anything amiss. He noticed Longbottom was also looking around a bit wearily.

"Oh," Scamander said, an odd tone to his voice. "The love interest."

"The what?"

—o—

A/N: Whoops, did I forget to mention that I was excited to split the chapter because of this…? … I'll just show myself out.

See you soon!