Thank you all so much for the review and story alerts! It means so much! :) this story is going to wrap up soon, maybe 1 or 2 more chapters.
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Draco poked at a slice of ham with his fork. He'd escaped what would have been another awkward dinner with the lame excuse of feeling sick. That wasn't entirely untruthful he thought, thinking back to Luna in the dungeon.
He had shown affection to the wayward Ravenclaw.
No, he was only helping her do what she obviously couldn't do herself.
Why would you bother helping her if you didn't care?
His mind was at war with itself and Draco didn't know which side he wanted to win. Draco pushed the half empty plate away, spilling food as he did so. He made his way to the giant bed and stuck his hand under the mattress. He pulled out the stained shirt triumphantly and marched out towards the bathroom.
He twisted the hot water on and watched it gush from the tap, filling up the sink basin. He dumped near half a bottle of soap into the mix, the water foamed at the top. Swinging his hand down he went to dunk the white shirt into the water, cleaning all memory of the odd blonde off of him. Closer the fabric got to the pink swirled water but at the last minute his hand flicked the shirt away and down safely onto the ground.
Draco slammed a fist onto the granite counter, grabbing his head in his hands. Bloody hell he had feelings for the girl. He slid onto the floor, contemplating his options. The first option, the one that made most sense, would to just continue on his life and forget about her, she's a muggle sympathizer after all. He was never a boy to do what made sense though, he thought proudly. He had made an enemy of the boy who lived, become a deatheater while he was still in school, and he was going to kill the Albus Dumbledor. And now he was going to add Luna Lovegood to his list of achievements.
Grabbing the shirt of the floor he sauntered from the bathroom, not bothering to empty the soapy sink. Stepping down the stairs his heart threatened to break from his chest. He didn't meet another soul on his way to the dungeon stairs and soon he was perched outside the door leading to the dank prison.
Here Draco faltered, he hadn't really thought of what he was going to do when he saw the lovegood girl. Surely he couldn't just sweep her off her feet and tell her they were ment for eachother. He knew his life was no fairy tale. He didn't even know if Luna had even the smallest inkling of feeling for him, good feeling mind you. Being tortured and locked away by a person doesn't usually make them fond of you. But she was different, Luna had forgiven him. Draco grinned, reaching to pull the door open. He'd win her over one way or another he chuckled, tightening is grip on the stained shirt nervously.
The door pushed open to reveal the same dark gloom that came with every dungeon. He was about to call out when another voice stopped him.
"Draco! Draco come here!" It was his mothers voice calling shrilly from upstairs. Draco froze, unsure of what to do. Did his mother know what he was up to?
"Draco we need you!" It was his dad's weakened voice calling this time. He turned back up the stairs to meet them.
"Draco?" Draco paused halfway up the flight of stairs. It had been Luna that time calling for him. Her voice whispery and thin. He caught the hurt laced in her voice and choked. He looked down at the shirt clutched in his hands then back at the door.
"Draco!" His father screamed this time, making Draco's mind up for him. He ran up the step two at a time, promising himself that he'd see Luna as soon as his parents were done with him. He'd hold her and make it ok.
Stepping out of the stairway into the sitting room he spun on his parent with a growl. "What do you need?" He hissed. Narcissa grabbed his elbow and steered him from the room.
"We need you to check something for us." His mother hushed excitedly. "It's important that you don't mess this up." She added as a confidence boost. Draco frowned.
She swung the doors open to the dining room and proudly showed her son what they had found that need so much attention.
Held fastened to the chairs sat Ron and Hermione, the two were about as disheveled as could get and Hermiones tears were leaving clean paths on her dirt covered skin. Draco snorted, they were bound to get caught eventually.
He turned to wear two people were holding a boy with as much authority as they could muster. The snatchers lifted the boys face up and Narcissa proded Draco over to them.
"Who is this Draco honey? Is it Harry Potter?" She asked hope dripped from her voice. The boy in questions face was pulled and pushed, flattened in places, and was a swollen and pink as fresh scars. But there was no denying that the boy in front of him was Harry Potter.