Draco was relieved when the meal finally came to an end. The few that were making comments about him were getting braver as their bellies were getting fuller, and Draco thought that someone may actually deliver a spell soon. He had ceased eating completely, opting to hold his wand in a tight, sweaty palm up under the sleeve of his Slytherin Robes.
The hall seemingly rose in unison to follow both their Head of House and their Prefects. Once they were out of the Great Hall, Draco's feet were tempted by habit towards the lower levels of Hogwarts. As it was, there was an adequately sized pack of Ravenclaws that he was trailing behind to keep him moving in the right direction.
Draco was smart enough to keep his guard up, yet his small dose of bravery from earlier seemed to be allowing more bravery to find its way inside; at least in the small things. A few of the students in the murmuring mass before him turned to cast glances at him. Draco followed without stumbling, meeting their eyes. He didn't glare, he simply looked back. He didn't know if it meant anything, but he felt good doing it.
He couldn't help but let his attention waver from the wandering, and sometimes accusing, eyes as they came to a bronze spiral staircase. Draco had been on the fifth floor from time to time, but never to this part of it. The students went up the staircase two-by-two, silencing as Professor Flitwick reached the door. Draco looked up from the bottom of the staircase, though he couldn't see the door from there. A gong-like knock resounded through the corridor, and a voice called out loud enough for them all to hear: "For many of you, I symbolize evil and death and treachery; but do not let it slip your mind, that I also symbolize transformation, healing, and immortality. What am I?"
Draco stood at the bottom of the spiraled staircase with his mouth hanging uncharacteristically open. Had the door just asked a question? About serpents? Snakes? What kind of luck was on his side—or against him, depending on what part of the door's hint the students chose to retain?
"As you can see," Flitwick was saying, speaking mostly to the first years at the top of the stairs, "the Ravenclaw Tower needs more than a password to be accessed. It needs you to use your mind and come up with a suitable answer; otherwise…well," he chuckled, "you'd better hope another student comes along to answer for you."
There seemed to be a nervous murmuring from the first years, as well as from some of the other students. Draco didn't murmur or squirm, but he certainly wanted to. A password would have been much more convenient. He couldn't help but fear that he would spending a night or two out on the spiral staircase because he wasn't able to answer a question.
"Would anyone care to answer?" Flitwick called out cheerfully.
Draco, though he was positive he knew the answer, said nothing. No one said anything at first, then Draco slowly raised his head again as Luna's voice called out softly, "Professor, I believe the door is referring to a Snake, as it is viewed through the eyes of more than one culture."
"Well said," the voice Draco came to think of as the door answered. Another sound signified that it had been opened, and the students began trooping excitedly up the staircase and into the room.
When Draco reached the top, he realized that the door was actually a bronze eagle with a knocker hanging below it. He stared at it for a moment before hesitantly entering his new home while at Hogwarts.
Again, Draco couldn't stop his mouth from dropping open. His eyes widened as he took in the vastness of the room. Everything was blue: the floor, the ceiling with its littering of stars, the walls, and the satin drapes that fell from ceiling to floor to accent the long, wide windows. It was too dark for Draco to see what view the Ravenclaws would have, but he was just excited to have a view at all.
Everything was so different than the dungeons. The Slytherin Dungeons seemed to encourage surliness, boredom, and even evil. Everything was green and dark, with an eerie wet feeling. But this room…Draco felt like he had taken his first breath of fresh air. The room, and the knowledge that he had become a part of it, made him feel expectantly empty…that kind of empty a room must feel like when it's been shut up for too long, then suddenly the doors and windows are thrown open, and a cool, cleansing wind echoes around all its empty corners, preparing it to be filled. Draco felt refreshed.
"Eighth Year students, if you'll follow me! First Years, you listen to your Prefects!" Flitwick issued the instructions, and Draco walked towards him, along with the few other Eighth Years. One of the boys passed him a look that suggested Draco was no more than gum on the bottom of his shoe. Draco looked away, but once again felt the wand in his sleeve. "Good, now as you can see, another door has been added here," Flitwick began. Draco looked past the little man to a statue of what must have been Rowena Ravenclaw. In an alcove behind it were three doors; Draco assumed there must have been only two before. "The one in the middle will lead through to a smaller common room. Shall we?"
The small group of Eighth Year Ravenclaws followed Flitwick thru the door, up a short staircase, and through an archway into a smaller version of the main common room.
"This will be your private quarters; the younger students will not be able to access this room unless accompanied by one of you. There are two doors on each end of the room," he paused to motion to the doors on opposite sides of the room, "the left is for you gentlemen, and the right is for our returning ladies. Now, I'm sure you are all very anxious to get unpacked and into bed so that you will be well rested for your first morning of classes. You will receive your schedules at breakfast, as usual. Any questions?" He smiled at the group, and Draco was relieved when Flitwick met his eyes in turn and smiled. He hoped it was a good sign.
"What about him?" The same male that had given Draco a nasty look just moments ago motioned at Draco, not hiding his disdain at the idea of having to share a room with the former Slytherin.
Flitwick folded his pudgy hands in front of him, leaning slightly forward, raising his white brows at the sneering young man. "Mister Corner, I'm sure the magic in the Ravenclaw Tower can more than adequately provide another bed for Mister Malfoy in the Eighth Year Dormitories." Flickwick's tone suggested that he knew he wasn't answering the question in the way that Michael wanted him to; nevertheless, his point came across. "Any more questions?"
"No, sir," Corner said quietly. The other students shook their heads, most of them looking to the floor.
Flitwick turned to exit the room in short, quick strides. At the door, he turned, looking at Draco and added, "I nearly forgot. You'll find amongst your things a new tie and a Ravenclaw badge to replace the Slytherin one on your robes. I'm afraid you'll have to order any additional articles of clothing yourself." He didn't wait for a reply before leaving.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind the short Head of House, all eyes turned on Draco Malfoy. He swallowed, eyes darting between all the sets of eyes. Luna's eyes held the briefest, followed shortly by Padma's. They were the only girls in Ravenclaw to return for the Eighth Year, and they silently left the boys alone. Draco watched them leave before looking back at the three other boys in the room.
Draco immediately recognized one of them. The boy had disappeared from Hogwarts the previous year after shouting in the Great Hall about Harry Potter's break-in at Gringotts. Draco remembered how he had been dragged away by the Carrows, still screaming about Harry Potter being the Savior.
"Let's not make this any more awkward than it must be," spoke up another boy that Draco vaguely recognized. The boy approached Draco and extended his hand, "I'm Anthony Goldstein."
None of the shock that Draco felt at the non-hostile introduction showed on his face. He made himself more aware of the wand up his sleeve, and extended his own hand, keeping his senses peeled for any approaching attack. "I'm Draco. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"We know who you are, Malfoy!" Corner half-shouted at him from behind Anthony. Everyone's attention snapped to the other boy. Draco used the distraction to move his wand down enough so the handle was securely in his hand, but still hidden.
"Michael, calm down," Anthony said, but was cut off.
"No, I will not calm down! They expect for us to share a room with that—that Slytherin!" He looked Draco up and down like he was the most disgusting pile of vermin he had ever come in contact with.
Anthony looked about to say something, but Draco rushed ahead, not wanting for any of them to have to act as his defender. "I'm sure if I speak to Flitwick, other arrangements could be made-"
"Oh that's just like you to want special treatment, Malfoy!" Michael spat, cutting Draco off completely.
"That's not what I meant!" Draco's voice rose slightly before he could stop it. "I just thought you'd rather not share a room with me. Flitwick could move me, I'm sure."
Draco was surprised to notice that not one wand had been drawn since the altercation began. If this had been Slytherin…well, he reasoned absently, Slytherins wouldn't be shouting in their common room.
Anthony stood between the two, looking back and forward as though he wasn't sure what to say. He seemed to come to a decision, and tried again to speak to Michael, "Michael, you know what Flitwick said. We have to dorm with him. He's a Ravenclaw now."
"Bullshit, Anthony! You know you don't believe that! He's a fucking Slytherin that snaked his way in here!" Michael shouted with a hot headed fury that was Gryffindor-worthy.
"The Sorting Hat put him here, Corner!" Anthony said firmly, using the boy's surname. The tactic worked. Michael still looked ready to scream, but he kept his mouth shut.
The third boy stepped forward slowly and stood in front of Draco. He didn't say anything at first, but the piercing—analyzing—look he was giving him made Draco have to work hard to not squirm under the scrutiny.
"I'm Terry Boot," he finally said. Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Terry continued, still speaking softly, "It's obvious you're trying to prove that you're not an evil bastard." He paused here, and Draco couldn't help but squirm after that blunt statement. "Even if you're not, you're obviously very selfish. You didn't even think about the feelings of any of us."
Draco blinked, taken aback by the unexpected statement. He was at a loss for words, so didn't try to speak for fear of spluttering. Terry didn't seem to need him to say anything, though.
He continued, "Did it never occur to you how uncomfortable it would make us to have you here? Did you not even think of Luna?"
Draco visibly flinched, unable to control it this time. It was obvious he was listening to the cleverest of the Ravenclaw Eighth Years. What could Terry possibly say to him about Luna? What did he know? Draco felt he may panic if the boy didn't continue speaking and be done with the suspense his words had invoked. "What about her?" Draco said quietly, curiously, careful not to sound suspicious.
Terry cocked his head to the side, looking at Draco with that analyzing stare. "Did you ever think of how hard it would be for her having you here? After what she went through at your house?"
Draco's mouth opened in a silent "o", momentarily frozen. He hadn't thought of that at all. He shook his head and looked to the floor, feeling that Terry was absolutely right. He was selfish. He had only thought of himself when he chose to be resorted. It would be better for everyone else if he had stayed in Slytherin.
"I…" he tried to say something, but came up with nothing adequate enough. He felt like crying again, but swallowed it back for the third time that day.
Suddenly Michael had an outburst, "Yeah! You didn't think of that, did you, you selfish prick?" Draco had forgotten about the two other boys while Terry had been speaking to him. It was obvious that Michael hadn't calmed down for even a second.
"You don't need to shout, Michael." All four young men jumped at the voice. Draco's spun his head around and was met with the eyes of Luna Lovegood. But she wasn't looking at him. Her arms were crossed and she was looking between Terry and Michael. Draco watched, along with the other three as she silently moved across the floor until she was standing in the midst of them. "While I appreciate your concern, Terry, I do not need you to speak for me. And I definitely don't need you to defend me." Her voice was quiet and not unkind; however, the effect it had was instant.
Terry backed down immediately. "Sorry, Luna. I was simply making a point, but I shouldn't have involved you in it."
"What!" Michael sounded exasperated and angry, "But Luna! After what he put you through at his-"
"How would you know what I went through?" Luna silenced him. Draco noticed that while her eyes still held the wide eyed wandering look, her jaw was set more firmly, making her quite intimidating. "You weren't there with me. I'll have you know that Draco is not part of the group that took me from the train. He never tortured me or did anything unkind to me…" She paused to look at all of them—except for Draco. "He never stole my shoes, or laughed at me behind my back, or called me Loony Lovegood…"
They all had the decency to look apologetic and guilty, but Michael had to say something, "but Luna, what he did is different. He let Voldemort live in his house!" He was pleading with her to side with him.
Luna studied him for a moment. When she finally opened her mouth to speak, all of them had to hold their breaths and lean slightly forward to hear her low voice. "None of us can imagine what he went through…having that madman in his home…" She looked at Draco, her eyes held pity. "It must have been hard."
Draco found that he couldn't look at her. He looked at his feet, hardly able to believe that she was defending him. A large part of him wanted to lash out—to tell her that he didn't need a girl to defend him. But that sounded childish to him, though he knew that he probably would have said just that only a couple of years ago. He held his tongue, and looked up to find Luna still looking at him. He realized in that moment, that he never wanted to say or do anything to make that face look upon him with pain or disappointment. The memory of it flashed before his eyes, and he squeezed his eyes shut against it. When he opened them, Luna was studying him with a puzzled expression.
"Fine," Michael said between clenched teeth. "But don't think I'm going to be all buddy-buddy with him." He looked right at Draco, pointing a rigid finger at him. "I don't like you. I don't trust you."
"I really don't blame you," Draco said before he could stop himself. At least he was telling the truth, he reasoned.
"Save it! I don't care about anything you have to say!" Michael replied.
"Mike-" Anthony warned.
"No! I'm going to bed." With that, Michael Corner spun on his heel and stomped through the door to the boys' dormitory.
Anthony shrugged at Draco before following Michael. Luna and Terry were both looking at him now.
"I'd wait a few minutes before you came to bed, Malfoy," Terry stated calmly, but in a matter-of-fact tone. "Give Michael time to get into his bed, so he doesn't have to see you when you come in."
"Sure," Draco shook his head, not about to argue, "I understand."
"Alright. Goodnight, Luna…Draco." Draco couldn't help but notice how Terry's eyes darted between the two, as though he was uncomfortable leaving Luna alone with him.
Luna seemed to notice to, "Oh go on, Terry. I can handle myself."
"I know, I just…" his eyes darted to Draco one more time. "oh, alright, goodnight." He turned and left the room.
Luna turned to Draco as soon as they were alone, but she didn't say anything. She just looked at him, analyzing the way Terry had done. Draco found it nearly impossible not to fidget as she looked at him. He had to break the silence, so he said the only thing that came to his mind.
"Thank you." Somehow, saying the words calmed him down long enough so that he could stand still and look back at her. And that's when he realized that looking at Luna Lovegood was something he hadn't done enough of. She was so much like him in appearance: white-blond hair and pale skin. Their lips were even similar, though he had not seen his reflection slowly curving into a genuine smile the way her lips were doing now. He looked at her eyes, unable to miss how alike the stormy grey color was to his own; except…before he knew what he was doing, he had taken a step forward to get a closer look into those eyes. No, he thought, her eyes are much more beautiful than mine. Bluer, definitely bluer.
"Wrackspurt got your tongue?" Luna whispered.
Draco halted mid-step, knocked out of whatever zone he had been in by Luna's voice. His eyes widened as he realized how close to her he had gotten. He dropped her gaze and quickly retreated, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"I'm sorry, I seemed to have gotten a bit distracted." He tossed off, not knowing what else to say.
"It's alright," she assured him, "Wrackspurts affect a lot of people, though few believe in them."
"What's a Wrackspurt?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"It's an invisible creature. They float into your ears and make your brain go all fuzzy." She said as though she were teaching a very interesting lesson.
"Oh," Draco said, still puzzled. "But…those aren't…they're not real." Draco wanted to beat himself over the head for making such an idiotic response.
Fortunately for him, she didn't seem to mind. She just shrugged and replied, "Like I said, few believe. I think it'd be okay for you to go to bed now."
Draco had to blink to catch up with the sudden change in subject. Never had anyone been able to befuddle him so completely. If she could just turn those eyes away from him for one second, he thought he might have a chance of getting his brain under control and under his command. As it was, she didn't stop looking at him, and he found he couldn't even get words out at this point.
She smiled softly—shyly, Draco thought—and said, "See you tomorrow, Draco." She began walking to the door that would lead to her dormitory, and Draco couldn't help but watch her go. She turned around just as she reached the door, "Draco?" she met his eyes again.
Draco had to swallow before replying, "Yes?" He felt as wide eyed as she looked, and suddenly breathless.
"Would you like to walk with me down to breakfast in the morning?" she asked, chewing slightly on her bottom lip when she finished. Draco absently wondered if this was a nervous reaction. The idea made him braver.
But then what she had asked sank in and he could only sputter in the worst way for a Malfoy.
"I'd understand if you'd rather not-"
"No! No!" His hands flew out of his pockets, and he knew he must look and sound like a lunatic. He took a deep breath, desperate to regroup. "I would really like to walk to breakfast with you, but…" he paused.
"But what?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.
"Are you sure you want to be seen…with me? I don't think your friends would approve."
"Oh," she seemed surprised by his answer, though Draco thought it was a perfectly reasonable argument. "Padma's the only friend I have in Ravenclaw. The rest of them never talked to me until after the war. My other friends are mostly Gryffindors, and I think some of them will actually give you a chance. Besides," she continued with a gentle smile that showed no sign that she had known war, "I don't really care what people think of me. Do you?"
The truth came to Draco's lips before he even realized he knew the answer, "Not anymore."
"So you'll meet me in the morning?" she asked again.
"Yes, I'll be here waiting," he replied and watched her walk away.
Draco felt paralyzed as she left him alone. He felt far too light; the sensation snapped him out of his stand still, and he stumbled into the sofa behind him. His brain ran circles around the evening and around all that had transpired between Luna Lovegood and himself. It didn't seem real.
Luna had said he could probably go to his dormitory now, but Draco was far too cautious to go in just yet. He quickly located parchment in one of the desks scattered around the room, and sat to write to his mother. He told her of his resorting, but didn't know what to say beyond that. Should he mention Luna? What would his mother think? He reasoned that he would leave Luna out of the letter for now…no doubt he was far too excited and reading far too much into her request to walk with him to breakfast. She was probably just being nice, and perhaps trying to set a good example for the other students. These excuses sounded solid enough for now, so he finished his short letter, tucked it into his robes, and went to the door that would take him to his dormitory. He entered silently as he could, letting his wand drop out of his sleeve and into his hand. He was relieved to see a candle burning beside what he presumed was his bed.
He tiptoed over, realizing as he did that he was actually being considerate of others, something he would not have been doing two years ago. He knew he would have burst into his Slytherin dormitory, not giving a damn about his sleeping roommates.
He unpacked his robe pockets, returning his trunk to its normal size. He silently cast an array of spells to protect his belongings, undressed quickly, and slipped into the bronze sheets, pulling the blue drapes shut. He casts more spells to protect him while slept. He would not make the mistake of underestimating any of the Ravenclaws.
He thought it would have been more difficult to fall asleep that night, but exhaustion from the day's events got the best of him, and before he knew it, he was breathing evenly and dreaming—not for the first time—about Luna Lovegood.