Title: Angel in Disguise
Author: Annearchy
Rating: K+
Word Count: 4,428
Summary: Following Dumbledore's death, Draco Malfoy is on the run. He comes across someone he hadn't expected to see again.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything associated with his world belong to J.K. Rowling and/or Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's notes: Requested by shellydkitty on Livejournal.. Thanks to my wonderful betas, abigail89 and tomeraider, for their insights and help.
Angel in DisguiseIt was late June, but it felt more like September, Luna Lovegood thought as she pulled her legs up beneath her and settled into the large chair near the fireplace. That strange chill in the air, the one she'd felt off and on since last summer, had returned. Dumbledore was dead and Hogwarts might not reopen. The world seemed tilted now, like a skew plane. It was like when her mother had died: everything out of balance, impossible to make sense of things. So she came here to think, and stew, and perhaps draw some of the images in her head.
When Luna was six years old, she discovered this abandoned cottage in the woods outside Ottery St. Catchpole. At the time it seemed huge to her, and fascinating. The main room combined a living area with a kitchen. Three wooden chairs surrounded the rough-hewn table, while three stuffed chairs of different sizes were set in a semi-circle in front of the small stone hearth. The only room that didn't have three of everything was the bedroom. There Luna found one large bed with a thick, pillowy mattress, and one small bed that only a child could have slept on.
Luna lay down on the child's bed that day and napped. She dreamed of Crumple-horned Snorkacks, her favorite of all the magical creatures Daddy had told her about.
She didn't know why no one seemed to live in this cottage or why there was a film of dust on pretty much every surface. But she knew she wanted to come back.
Luna returned to the cottage often over the next ten years. In many ways it became her home away from home, a place where she could go when she needed to get away from her father or the busy-ness of The Quibbler, or just have a quiet place to think or to remember her mother. The dust didn't bother her, well, not at first. As she got older, she realised that whoever had lived in the cottage did not leave as suddenly as she'd originally thought. The beds were all made up, dishes were stacked in the cupboards, pots hung on hooks around the fireplace. Nothing was out of order. But nothing was in order either. No clothes hung in the bedroom cupboard; no food awaited in the kitchen; there were no toys anywhere in the house, though the smaller bed was obviously made for a child.
It was sad, really. The family had not left suddenly. They must have made a careful plan and then disappeared without a trace.
That was what Luna decided as she curled up in the big chair in front of the empty fireplace. It was early morning. Although she'd just had breakfast before leaving the flat, she'd not slept well and was quite tired. Pulling a purple afghan around her shoulders for warmth, she stuck her wand behind one ear, leaned her other ear against the padded chair, and fell asleep.
It was cold for late June, Draco Malfoy thought as he pulled his cloak about him. His cloak, he thought sardonically, was barely fit for a Malfoy these days. His mother had bought it for him only last year at Twillfitt & Tattings. Now, after only three weeks on the run, it was full of rips, stains and imperfections that would make Narcissa Malfoy blanch. Being the third most sought-after person in Wizarding Britain (after the Dark Lord and Severus Snape) left Draco with little time to perform repairing charms on his cloak or any other clothing. He'd worry about that when he was sure he wouldn't be caught.
Right now, Draco was trying to figure out his next move. To his horror, he'd failed the Apparition test that spring, and after Professor Snape killed Dumbledore -- a fact that still made Draco's mind reel – he and Snape fled Hogwarts on foot, just barely head of Harry Potter and his bumbling helpers. Snape then blindfolded Draco and took him, by side-along Apparition, to a cave somewhere on a seacoast.
"It's better that you don't know where you are," Snape told him. "And it's most important that you don't know where I'm going."
Draco had merely nodded. He knew, finally, about Snape's Unbreakable Vow; the former potions professor was now a marked man too. Snape left the next day, but not before giving Draco a map with a few marks scratched on it, marks indicating the general location of structures where a person might hide out by day after traveling on foot by night.
So that had been Draco's life for the next three weeks: hiding and sleeping (if he could) by day, running by night. Feeding on nuts and berries he foraged in the woods or fields (or transfigured into something heftier) or food he managed to steal from Muggle homes he invaded while their owners were off at their Muggle jobs. Draco still could not use the Killing Curse, not even on animals he wished to eat. Even if he could kill them, he'd never be able to butcher one, not even a chicken or a rabbit, without making a horrible mess that he couldn't afford. The pampered life he'd led had not prepared him for this at all. After three weeks on the run, he was thin, pale, wan and hungry.
Draco had spent the previous night up a tree; there were only so many charms that could protect him from predatory animals. Staying awake all night was very difficult; it went against his natural diurnal nature. It was also difficult to forage for food in the darkness. So when he spied the small cottage tucked away in the woods, he decided to take a chance after the sun rose.
It seemed an ideal hiding place, really – set back from a footpath that meandered through the forest, not easily seen from the clearing closer to the Muggle roadway. From his perch up the tree, he could occasionally see an automobile drive through the countryside, which (according to the map) was in Devonshire, in southwest England. His main question was whether the cottage was occupied or, as he hoped, abandoned. The only way to find out, he finally admitted, was to take a closer look.
Jumping down from the tree, he landed on his arse on the vines beneath. Unable to Apparate, he moved stealthily until he could peer into the cottage to see if it seemed inhabited.
He peeked through a side window and found a room containing one large bed and one small one. Beyond that, through an archway, was a larger room that seemed to contain a small kitchen, then a living area. He would not chance the front door at this time of day; too easy to be detected if someone were puttering around out there.
Alohomora, he muttered, and the window rose on its own, creaking a bit as it moved in the casing. Draco cringed, hoping that if anyone were in the house, they'd not heard the noise. He then crawled through the open window, crouched between the beds and listened.
Nothing. Or rather, almost nothing. The only thing he could hear was a soft whuh-whuh-whuh sound from the living area.
It sounded like…snoring.
Bloody hell, it's not vacant, he thought, grimacing at how foolish he'd been to enter the house without making sure it was unoccupied. The sibilant snoring was getting louder. Perhaps the snorer might wake up soon. Draco knew he had to check things out quickly. It couldn't be all that hard. Just creep into the kitchen, find some food, stuff it inside his cloak and leave. He would much rather spend the day in the cottage, resting – how he longed to sleep on that big, thick mattress – but obviously he'd made a mistake here. Best to get whatever he could, as quickly as he could, and disappear back into the forest.
Sneaking into the kitchen, he slid quietly across the wood floor and was almost at the kitchen table when he realized where the snoring was coming from. Someone was curled up in the biggest chair, tendrils of long blonde hair trailing over one of the chair arms as the sleeper murmured incoherently.
Draco could see a pair of slender legs, a long gauzy skirt and a bulky jumper, but not the sleeper's face. A young woman, he thought, not sure if this development pleased him. All he really wanted was some food. If she were a Muggle, he'd have to think up a story, quickly, to explain why he was in the house. If she were a witch – well, he'd have to incapacitate her, then Obliviate her. He wasn't going to kill anyone if he didn't have to, not when he'd risked so much to avoid detection.
He had almost reached the cupboard when a floorboard creaked loudly. The snoring stopped.
"Da – Daddy, is that you?" came a dreamy female voice.
Moving more quietly, he opened the cupboard door to see what he could find. More creaking. And just his luck, the cupboard was bare.
"Daddy, did you come looking for me again?" the voice said, stronger now. "You know I always come home when I'm ready."
So she doesn't live here, thought Draco. Who the bloody hell is she?
The young woman stretched, stood up, then turned slightly until Draco could see her face. As his eyes scanned the blonde hair and slight figure, her eyes widened.
"You're not my daddy. You're Draco Malfoy." Despite the look of surprise on her face, her tone was even, almost dreamy.
"And you're not in Slytherin," he replied automatically. His entire life he'd been taught not to trust anyone outside of Slytherin House, and he knew that this girl could never be in his house. He'd seen her many times in the Great Hall, trailing people in the corridors, usually alone. In a school full of Muggle-lovers and weirdos, she was one of the weirdest.
"Of course I'm not," replied the girl with a note of amusement. "I would not have wanted to be, either."
Her voice was pleasant, almost cheery as she said this. How dare she insult the house of Hogwarts' greatest founder?
"Slytherin wouldn't have wanted you in his house," rejoined Draco, sneering at her.
His hand twitched as he considered hexing this stupid girl, who smiled at him as though he was some interesting painting she was examining in a museum. He ought to know her name, Draco thought. He knew she hung out on the fringe of Harry Potter's circle, was one of the kids who tried to fight against the Death Eaters just weeks ago.
A new memory dawned. "You went to Slughorn's Christmas party with Potter."
She nodded. "Yes. I don't recall seeing you there, though. Weren't you in the Slug Club too?"
Was she always this…dense? Why wasn't she screaming and shouting and threatening him with a life sentence in Azkaban? "Yes, I was in the club and at the party. I just didn't stay long."
The girl noticed that his hand seemed to be twitching, as though he was trying to decide whether or not to use his wand. "You're very anxious, Draco Malfoy," she said thoughtfully. "And you look very tired. Would you like to sit down?" She pointed to the larger empty armchair. The small one would never do; Draco was much too tall to fit in it.
This weird girl was as pathetic and foolish as she looked; apparently she wasn't planning to hex him, at least not immediately. Mustn't have learned much in that Dumbledore's Army group, he thought smugly. Mustn't know how to hex anyone properly.
Perhaps he could find out whatever she knew – especially where to get some food – without having to coerce the information from her. He could be charming when he wanted to be. Perhaps now was the right time.
"You're being very kind, Miss –"
"Lovegood. Luna Lovegood."
"Right, Lovegood. Er, look," he began.
"Yes?"
"You know who I am."
She nodded. "I also know what you did."
His hand clutched his wand beneath his robes. "Oh really?"
"Of course. Everyone knows now. You brought the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. And you wanted to…" – her voice hitched slightly – "to kill Dumbledore." She would not let him know she feared him. She willed herself to sound calmer. "But Professor Snape did it instead."
Jaw clenched, Draco raised an eyebrow and fingered his wand. He might have to use it sooner than he'd thought. "How'd you know that?"
"It was in the Daily Prophet." Luna wished her own wand was someplace less obvious than stuck behind her ear. There was no way she could grab it and use it against Malfoy without him noticing. Nothing she'd learned in the D.A. had prepared Luna for this. It occurred to her that she just might have to talk her way out of the situation. "You should sit down. You do look very tired."
Draco eyed Luna suspiciously. "I'm not that tired. Besides, I think you'll be the one sitting down…" With that, Draco raised his wand toward Luna until a pair of thick cords flew out the end and wrapped themselves around her, binding her arms to her body.
A small "Oh!" left Luna's mouth as she toppled backward into the plush armchair in which she'd napped.
"You're good at non-verbal spells," she said, mentally berating herself for not anticipating what Draco would do.
"I'm good at almost everything I need to do to survive out here," answered Draco. "You, on the other hand, apparently did not learn much in that hopped-up club of Potter's year before last."
Eyebrows raised, nostrils flaring, Luna felt more annoyance toward Draco Malfoy than she'd felt toward anyone in a long time. "It was not a hopped-up club. It was the Defence Association, and Harry taught us things that Umbridge wouldn't let us learn."
Draco sneered, his lip curling at the mention of Potter's name. "Ah, Saint Potter. He's nowhere close to a saint, you know. Almost killed me last month, did you know that?"
She shook her head. "You're lying."
Sidling over toward Luna's chair, he pointed his wand just behind her jaw. "Afraid not. He found me in…well, it doesn't matter where he found me. He used a very dark curse that sliced my chest open. I would have bled to death if Professor Snape hadn't come by and rescued me. Of course, Potter just served detention for a few weeks," he continued, his lips set in a thin line of disgust. "As usual he got off almost scot-free. He should have been expelled."
Luna sat in silence. The ropes binding her arms felt very tight. It was useless to try to fight against them. Especially useless with Draco's wand pointing at that vein that always pounded whenever she felt tense or things seemed to be spinning out of control – like now. But this accusation against Harry must be wrong. This did not sound like the Harry Potter she knew. "Harry would never use such a spell knowingly," she said finally. "He's not a killer."
Draco's wand pressed more firmly into her jaw. "Doesn't matter what you think. I know what he did."
She raised her eyes until she met his. "Why are we talking about Harry? Did you think you'd find him in this cottage?" The absurdity of that thought suddenly made her giggle.
"Stupid twit!" Draco yelled, pressing his wand harder into her jaw. "Don't laugh at me, you Muggle-loving moron. I came here to find food. So where is it?"
Luna gave him a long, exasperated look. "There's no food in this cottage. I just come here to read and think. Sometimes I take a nap."
Draco's face contorted until he looked furious. "No food? In a place like this?" He stared at her in an odd way, his eyes almost seeming to bore into her own. "You're not lying, are you?"
"No, I'm not lying. I don't lie. Sometimes I say things people don't want to hear, but that's not the same as lying."
Her voice was level, her eyes clear, her face perfectly serene. Although his strength was in keeping people out of his mind, Draco knew enough Legilimency to know that Luna wasn't lying. There was no food here. Shoulders sagging, he let the wand slip from Luna's jaw.
"Bloody hell."
Shoving his hand through his now-greasy hair, he let out a sigh and sat down on the chair next to hers. She was still bound in magical ropes, so she posed no threat to him right now.
"I'm sorry," said Luna kindly. He seemed genuinely distressed. Though the lack of food was not her fault, Luna felt a glimmer of compassion toward Draco, who now seemed a shadow of his usual swaggering self. His defeated posture and breathing didn't escape her notice, nor did the fact that he seemed thinner and paler than usual. "You're very hungry, aren't you?"
"Yes," he admitted. "I haven't eaten anything worth eating in three days. I've been traveling by night and resting in abandoned buildings by day."
"That sounds like a difficult way to live."
There was no derision in her voice, he noticed, merely a statement of fact. Perhaps she was not as stuck-up and judgmental as the rest of Potter's friends.
"It is."
"Why are you traveling by night? Aren't you of age? If I were you I'd be Apparating everywhere. It's much faster than walking!"
He gave a half-laugh to her unintentional joke. "I'd Apparate if I could. But I failed the test. Crabbe and Goyle passed, but I failed. Can you imagine how humiliated I was when those cretins passed but I couldn't?"
Luna's compassion for Draco grew. He'd told her something very personal and embarrassing. It must be difficult for someone like him to admit something like that. Perhaps if she could gain his confidence, she could help him do the right thing, and help Harry in the bargain.
"Those two look like they could not tie their shoes without help," she observed, unable to suppress a giggle. She didn't like to say unkind things, but truth be told she'd never liked those two brutish boys.
"Bugger all, that's true!" said Draco with a smirk. "I've known them since they were babies. Their mothers had to teach them a shoe-tying charm before they came to school. Do you know they both got only two O.W.L.s apiece? And they just barely got Acceptable in those subjects."
He paused, surprised by what he'd told her. There was something about Luna Lovegood that invited people to take her into their confidence. Though still bound by magical ropes, she was watching him with a calm but interested expression, as though he was some unique species of butterfly she wanted to observe.
This girl was not going to hurt him. He ended the incantation and the ropes fell away, then vanished.
"That's very clever!" said Luna, genuinely surprised that he'd freed her. "How'd you do that?"
"The usual way. I just didn't speak it," he said simply.
"Well, thank you. I was quite uncomfortable. Those ropes were very tight."
He nodded, then said urgently, "Look, Luna, can you help me get some actual food? I'm tired of transfiguring leaves and whatnot into tasteless sandwiches."
Luna observed Draco carefully. He'd had her at his mercy but did nothing more than tie her up and talk with her.
"I can get some food for you," she said finally. "You stay here and wait. I'll be back in an hour."
"How do I know you won't send an owl to the Ministry of Magic and tell them where I am?"
"Because you had the chance to kill me, and you didn't. You're not a killer, Draco Malfoy, any more than Harry Potter is. Now stay put and I'll bring back some food."
Luna cast a window-obscuring charm that would enable Draco to see out but no one else to see into the living area. As she left the house, Draco set a locking charm on the door, then settled back into his chair and drifted off to sleep.
When she reached the flat she shared with her father, Luna made several sandwiches and put them into a box along with fruit, cheese, a bottle of milk and something extra for good luck. She then shrank the entire box to the size of a matchbox, tucked it into one sleeve of her jumper and walked slowly back to the woods. Arriving at the cottage she was surprised to find the front door soundly locked for the first time in all the years she'd visited.
"Alohomora!" said Luna, pointing her wand at the door. She'd never actually had to open a door magically before and was pleased that she remembered the charm. The door opened and she found Draco asleep where she'd left him.
"Wake up. I've got your food," she said, prodding his leg with her foot.
As Draco's eyes fluttered open, the blurry image of a young woman appeared before him. Her face was kind and gentle, with large, silvery eyes, and her blonde hair, backlit by a ray of sunlight, looked almost like a halo round her head.
She was either Luna Lovegood or an angel in disguise.
"I've got your food," she said in an oddly nonchalant tone, pulling a matchbox from the sleeve of her jumper, then muttering the enlarging charm. The box expanded until it was larger than a picnic basket. It contained more food than Draco had seen in one place since he'd run away from Hogwarts.
"Th – thank you," said Draco, truly grateful for what he had received.
"You're welcome. I made the sandwiches myself," said Luna, beaming.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "How very…domestic of you. You're sure I won't be poisoned by any of this?"
"I've never managed to poison anyone yet." Malfoy had an odd sense of humour, Luna thought, as he grabbed the box from her hands and shoved a chunk of cheddar cheese into his mouth.
"Whassis udder ting?" he asked through a mouthful of cheese. "Onion?"
Luna suddenly looked serious. "It's a gurdyroot. For luck. In case you have to ford any streams, you'll need it to ward off Gulping Plimpies."
He had no idea what she was blathering about. If he got really hungry, he'd probably slice the blasted thing with his wand and eat it. Ignoring the Gertie-root, or whatever it was, he ate ravenously for the next quarter-hour while Luna watched him silently. Finally sated, he wiped his mouth with the edge of his cloak and leaned toward her.
"Thank you, again. I really mean it."
Luna nodded and gave him a luminous smile. "You're not as bad as they say. Even if you did try to kill Dumbledore."
He shook his head. "They're wrong about that. I didn't try to kill Dumbledore. I was supposed to. The Dark Lord commanded me to. But when I had Dumbledore cornered in the Astronomy Tower, I just couldn't do it."
Leaning forward, she patted his hand. "That's because you're no more a killer than I am."
Her hand was warm and soft on top of his. She'd shown him the first shred of kindness he'd seen since Dumbledore offered to protect him even while he threatened the headmaster's life.
"You're right," he said, putting his other hand on top of hers. "I'm not a killer. Now I'm one of the hunted. I know the Dark Lord's minions are searching for me. Which is why I need your help again."
"How else can I help you?" she asked, genuinely curious. His hand had not moved and she made no effort to remove her own.
Draco looked at her carefully. She certainly didn't have the upper-class breeding he was used to; instead, she had qualities he rarely saw among his social equals – honesty and compassion, both of which he needed badly now.
"I need to know where Potter is. Do you know? Please don't lie to me. I'll know if you're lying."
"I don't know," answered Luna honestly. "I've not seen nor heard from him since Dumbledore's funeral. It was a lovely funeral, you know. Very sad, but lovely. Did you know the tomb is huge and – "
"Just tell me about Potter," he cut her off, his voice almost breaking. "Do you have any idea how to reach him?"
Pulling her hand away, finally, she leaned her cheek into her palm and looked deep in thought. "I think I might see him soon, at a wedding. One of Ronald Weasley's brothers is getting married on July twelfth. Daddy and I are invited. I'm sure Harry will be invited too."
"Just let him know that you saw me. Don't tell anyone else. Tell him I know a bit about what he's got to do." At this Luna looked puzzled, but Draco forged on. "Tell him I can help him. Tell him I didn't want to threaten Dumbledore on the tower but I had no choice. The Dark Lord was going to kill me if I didn't try. And now he's going to kill me because I've failed -- but not before I do what I can to help bring him down. He's ruined too many lives, including my mother's and my own."
The Draco Malfoy in front of Luna was not the strutting, swaggering Slytherin who'd been cruel to so many of her friends the past five years. He was bone-tired, dirty and, she thought, telling the truth about the dilemma he was facing.
"I'll help you," she said finally. "I'll tell Harry you want to help him. So what are you going to help him with?"
"Nothing much," he said quietly, "just the fate of the Wizarding world."
"Well, if that's all it is," she said, smiling. "I'll do my best to convince him you want to help. But now I have to go home and make dinner. I always make dinner on Tuesdays." She stood, gathering her skirt around her and smoothing her jumper. "Goodbye, Draco Malfoy. You'll stay here until the sun goes down?"
He nodded, his whole body sagging with exhaustion. "Thank you again. You'll talk to Po – Harry, won't you?"
"Of course I will," she said soothingly as she opened the door to leave. "Take care of yourself. And please clean up and shut the door when you go. Who knows who might need to stay here tomorrow?"
THE END