Title: The (Fairy) Godfather
Author: Antidisestablishmentarianist / Kitty-kitty
Disclaimer: Not mine. All characters belong to JK Rowling, Warner Bros.
Scholastic, Bloomsbury and Raincoat books.
Rating: PG for cross-dressing poor Severus.
A/N's: A bit of a surprise in the next chapter. cackle It's more of a mix and match between Witches Abroad and Maskerade as we progress, isn't it? Anyway, I'm a bit distressed. Still, no-one's asked just where Luna inherited HER wand. Once again, it was written on paper and will end up horribly disjointed. . I'm unloved. Four reviews? Eech, like Luna I'm losing my groove… thanks to Cat, Tango (Uozumi), CastusAlbusCor and Forever Tainted.
Chapter Eight
Luna's losing her groove
The story was going quite smoothly and for such a simple story, it had her favourite rival tied up in knots (Then again, that man tied himself up in knots over simple things… he'd had such a temper tantrum over being called "grasshopper" that she'd made it a permanent nickname.
Once upon a time, there lived a handsome but cold hearted noble who loved nothing more than himself… until, one day, a fairy lost her temper and cast a spell on him. "You will fall in love," she told him, "with the first muggleborn you see."
Humiliated, the noble (a keen hater and abuser of muggle borns in general,) tried to avoid all of them but set eyes on a fiery hearted Gryffindor and fell instantly in love. From then on, he was much nicer… for at the Yule Ball that was quickly approaching, he would win the fair Gryffindor's heart.
Yes. That sounded perfect.
Luna mused on her story as she strolled through the hallways and leaned against the bathroom door inconspicuously. She was in plain clothes, having just been visiting (i.e. meddling) with Ron in the hospital wing, so apart from the wand tucked behind her ear and the mad state of her hair, she didn't stand out enough to be commented on.
She walked backwards through the push door of Myrtle's bathroom door and tripped over the prone figure on the floor.
"Malfoy?" she asked, before regathering herself and getting down on her knees onto the floor. "What was it that did this to you? Snorkacks? Heliopaths? Rabbits?"
"…" Draco opened one eye and flinched. For the first time in his life, he didn't look either perfect or charmingly messy. His hair was soaked and clung to his face, while his skin had gone from pale to bone-white. His uniform was sodden. "I'm not talking to you," he murmured.
"I knew it," whispered Luna, "it was the squirrel Mafia, wasn't it?"
This statement was so absurd that Draco forced himself onto his back just to give Luna a look of damp scorn. "If you call that," he said blandly, nodding to the space behind her, "the squirrel Mafia."
"He started it," whinged Myrtle in her equally damp and sodden tones. "He called me washed up!" suddenly, her voice turned rough and vicious, "so I washed him up!"
"She's insane," said Draco, "I've been stuck in here since yesterday."
"Didn't you call for help?" asked Luna.
"Mademoiselle! Rule number 23 of the Malfoy code ™® © clearly states that Malfoys do not call for help! They simply take the situation in their stride and belittle others by standing around calmly and looking pretty in the process!"
Luna took in the soaked hair and uniform, sweat leached face and slightly fearful grey eyes with a mildly sceptical look on her face (as a rule, Luna never wore any expression that was stronger than mild. She simply let the dominant look - misty - take over her face) "Why didn't you do that, then?"
"I didn't have my comb," said Draco obstinately, "Wait until I get my claws into Potter!"
"… what did he do now?" asked Luna, taking one of his clammy hands into hers and pulling him to his feet. He was surprisingly light (To Luna's triumph. That rumour about pureblood vampires, she thought, must be true. Blood has to be low in calories.)
"Shoved me in here and locked the door, I'm sure of it -"
" - no-one ever comes to see me! Oh, no, they have to be locked in with miserable moping moaning Myrtle -"
" - 24 hours of bloody torture, let me tell you - "
" - Weeping, whining, whinging Myrtle! They all hate me - "
" - I could have gotten a split end!"
" - ESPECIALLY HIM!" Much to Luna's amusement, Draco and Myrtle finished their own little rants at the same time before looking venomously at each other. She giggled softly to herself, but stopped when both living and deceased's glassy gazes turned on her.
"Harry didn't do that," she said abruptly, "That was honourable grasshopper Sevvie."
"Sevvie?" repeated Draco, "wait… Snape?" He looked at her expectantly, but when she did not answer he had no choice but to break Rue 17 (Never let them know that you don't know) and bombard her with questions. "You know why he's acting odd, don't you? Why? Why's he cross dressing - in pink? Why isn't he brooding? How did you open the door if it was locked? And WHY ME?"
"Because when it comes to you, dear Draco, everything has hormones," Luna said simply, and, having no desire to explain the entire Hermione/Ron/Draco/Severus/Herself/Minerva conundrum, she began to sing a verse of 'Weasley is our King' under her breath.
Draco lined up the questions he'd asked in his head and considered the answer, before drawing the only possible conclusion he could in the given situation.
"Snape fancies me?" he asked in a small voice.
The door swung open. Draco took the opportunity to duck under the entrant's arm and run for sweet freedom. The floor squeaked under his wet shoes as he let. Minerva McGonagall chuckled to herself, shutting the door behind her.
"Agent neko-chan" said Luna. Her back was turned to Minerva, but she used her inner eye to predict the identity of the newcomer with astonishing accuracy. (Her inner eye saw Minerva McGonagall's reflection in the mirror as though she was right before her."
"Loveg-" started Minerva impatiently. Luna held up her hand.
"Ah, bup bup bup?" she said quickly.
Minerva groaned. "Agent Tsuki'no," she said. "You got the job done?"
"Soon," said Luna in an Italian accent, "soon. Is that any way to talk to the God Mother? Respect, my daughter, works both ways. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours and together we'll sleep with the fishes."
Minerva wrinkled her nose. "What?"
"I don't know," admitted Luna, "but it sounded good."
"It sounded practically perverted to me," Minerva said, coughing politely. "Have you gotten Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley sufficiently distracted?"
Luna thought about this for a second. While Hermione was now open to suggestion, she was arguing with the currently mute and paralysed Ron. "Depends. Did you talk to Dumbledore?"
"I talk to him every day," Minerva said flatly. "That's the point... sorry. Sorry! I'm sneaking around Severus too much lately. Yes, he thinks another Yule Ball would be an excellent idea."
"Then it's sorted," Luna smiled. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten the agreement?"
"15% of all bet winnings and no transfiguration homework for a month. IF you succeed."
"2 months," said Luna suddenly. "And I've been a Fairy Godmother since I was five, you know, have more faith in me."
Minerva nodded at the girl, a small indication of utter and total faith. She then turned, mumbled "we never met, Agent Tsuki'no," and walked out the door with great dramatic effect. Watching her go, Luna felt the slightest bit proud of her Professor.
"Oh ... peachfuzz," she said to herself, "I'd better think up a plan quickly."
· Luna, like most lunatics, liked anime. She also, by a sad turn of fortune, liked James Bond. The combination was lethal.
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