Draco
Her gentle skipping comes to an abrupt halt when she sees the sixth-year boy leaning against one of the stone walls of Hogwarts, eyelids closed and hands clutching at his hair.
"Hello, Draco."
His cold grey eyes snap open, a sneer on his face – one that he has very rarely used this past year – at the very sight of her. His hair (almost an identical colour to hers) is released from the strong grasp.
"Loony Luna Lovegood," he mutters, pushing himself up straight.
"I think you could use a Wrackspurt or two; they help when someone is distressed… they may make your mind go fuzzy, but they can also get rid of troubling thoughts. And by the looks of it, you're not exactly at peace."
Draco Malfoy blinks at Luna, trying to think of what a Wrackspurt is. When he can not, he supposes it is a creature her mad old father has made up.
"You might be thinking that there isn't a way of that happening, because they are invisible, but I'm sure there's one strategy or another of catching them… Actually, I think Daddy told me once all you need is the Spectrespecs and a jar, of course the jar lid, as well, and it'd be easy enough…" she continues, just as dreamy as ever.
"Look Luna-" sighs Draco, before frowning at himself for using her real name, "I mean Loony – I don't need to hear your ridiculous ideas right now. I've got enough on my mind."
"That's alright. Just think about it - if you have any time to spare."
With that, she walks off with a slight spring in her step down the Charms corridor, humming a slow tune to herself, leaving the pale boy truly, truly confused.
