"I listened as she gently whispered,
'I love you
like the sea loves the shore'
I couldn't help but be reminded of the Sahara
how he too had been loved by the Shore
how the Shore had left him;
broke him into a billion billion pieces.
how he confuses the blue of the skies for his lovers hues
and begs for the rain to fall,
to bring him what he can of his lost Sea."
- B. Damani
Draco was pained when he learned what it was that Luna wanted.
She had been hinting at a separation between the pair of them for weeks. It had only been a few months since she had finished her final year at Hogwarts and decided to join him for a lengthy holiday at Malfoy Manor, with the intention of soothing the pain that the late war had caused him.
Of course, Luna had her own wounds to lick, but she wouldn't see someone she loved suffer first.
They had kept up a silent relationship during their time at Hogwarts, since Luna was in her fourth year. It had been a rocky river to cross, particularly when Luna was brought to the manor during the war. He had been forced to sit on his hands while she was trapped in his basement.
However, she had been easily forgiving, and they had flourished better than ever when Voldemort was finally put to rest.
Luna had too much love and help to give, whereas Draco had been left hollow.
"It's just not going to work anymore, Draco," she told him gently one evening while they lay in bed together. Draco rarely left their bed in those days—the aftermath of the war had struck him down with a sickness of the brain. Some days, he would feel mentally well enough to leave the manor and attempt some kind of a life, but he would catch sight of the ugly mark on his forearm as he reached out for something, and the flickering black fire in his brain would begin to burn malevolently once again. It was awful, to be just eighteen and to suffer such torment.
Each word that left her mouth was like another slap in Draco's confusion-riddled face. Her face was soft and unmoving, nothing but a wan smile on her vacant, porcelain features. It was a beautiful pain, like nothing he had ever felt before.
"I don't understand," he whispered back, his voice reaching unnatural heights.
Luna rolled onto her back and sighed, gazing up at the ceiling. "There are things that I need to do," she continued airily. "I haven't seen Daddy for weeks, or many of my friends."
"You don't need to see Weasel and the gang," Draco muttered, and Luna shot him a look.
"This is what I'm talking about. I need my friends, Draco. They need me. We all went through so much together. And I am starting my job at the Quibbler permanently next week, and I won't be around that much to...help you."
Draco looked almost venomous when the last two words escaped her pearly lips. "I don't need help."
But it was a bitter lie. Draco needed Luna like his lungs needed the air around him. She was his reason for waking up in the morning; the only candle in his dark, dark world. Without her essence, he would dissolve back into the shred of a man he had been before, a desolate, barren void.
The thought of returning to the pit of nebulous, constant twilight made him feel nauseous. He wouldn't be able to manage without her. He wouldn't be able to survive.
Every dream was plagued with images of the Dark Lord, or Albus Dumbledore plummeting to his death. During worse nights, he was subjected to endless visions of the abhorrent crimes his Aunt Bellatrix had done to the prisoners they reprimanded in the basement. Draco couldn't even look at the door to that basement without feeling bile rising in his throat.
Luna knew how to push those dreams and visions out of his head. She knew what to say, and how to gently ease him into a calm state of sleep. Her magical energy seemed to flow out of her fingertips and seep below his skin; permeating every vein in his body. The perfect drug.
But as he watched Luna sit up in bed, the moonlight causing her flaxen hair to shimmer icily, he knew deep down that she wasn't wrong.
Draco was a wounded snake. He remained with his belly flat to the ground, hiding in the darkest bushes to remain safe from predators while he healed. But Luna couldn't be slippery and silent and serpentine. She couldn't be confined to the darkness like he was. Luna was a glorious, colourful bird; she longed for the open skies and the summer sun, and to swoop and soar and circle the fluffy white clouds. Her kind heart kept her wings clipped, and Draco took her for granted.
Luna couldn't be a caged bird, and if they weren't separated, he would soon consume her vibrant light.
He had to set her free.
Word Count: 902
Written for:
The Quidditch Leagues Fanfiction Competition
Hogwarts Music Club - Prompts:
(Plot Point) Depression/Suicide - Bonus!
(Age) Eighteen
(Genre) Angst
(Emotion) Confusion