Summary: Draco sat with his parents in the Great Hall, quietly watching the victors celebrate. Then Luna approaches and insists on helping tend to their injuries, ignoring Draco's protests.

Rated: K+

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warning: Mentions of Blood

Forgiven, Not Forgotten

The war was over. Voldemort is dead. Draco witnessed it along with hundreds of others as the Dark Lord fell to the ground, nothing more than a corpse. He and his family were free—at least of Voldemort, anyway. They were now at the mercy of the Ministry. Trading one for the other.

His mother was the only one who spoke reason between the three. Draco wanted to quietly slip away when no one was looking, and his father held the same opinion. They had done enough damage; slipping through the cracks was what they did best in these sorts of situations. Narcissa, however, knew that running would only cause them more harm than good. They needed to be noticed by the victors and seen among them. Their very fates rested in these people's hands now, and the Malfoys had to show everyone they no longer meant or intended any harm.

Narcissa knew what she was talking about, and neither Draco nor Lucius questioned her insistence on the matter. She was one of the biggest reasons they were alive. Why he was alive. Why Harry was alive. They had no room to question her reasoning.

After helping his father get seated, Draco perched himself on a large piece of rubble nestled in the corner the Malfoys took refuge in. It gave them clear sightlines while keeping their backs protected from unsuspecting attacks. The three were wandless—completely defenseless and at everyone's mercy. This naturally put Draco on edge. Every person in that room had a reason to lash out at them, defenseless or otherwise, and it was a vulnerability Draco did not like being aware of even if they deserved every hex sent their way.

His head was pounding from the gash in his head; falling rubble packed a punch when it struck just right. Nevermind the throbbing wrist he cradled to his chest, it was nothing compared to what his father had endured. A blow from some falling debris had broken his leg, but their pain told them they were alive and some of the few lucky ones who managed to survive with nothing more than a few scrapes and broken bones.

It was their punishment to suffer with their injuries, after all. All of their rights and privileges no longer mattered, and with good reason.

Draco scanned the Great Hall in a dazed state as the crowd's cheers of celebration died down and people started to thin out to do who knows what. No one seemed to notice them at all, which was fine with him. All he could hope was that no one did take notice of their presence while emotions still ran high and the aftermath of war was still at the forefront of everyone's minds. He only stayed and endured the uncomfortable exposure because his mother said to—it was the right thing to do.

"You're injured."

The bell-like voice startled him out of his hazed thoughts. Draco met the silver-speckled eyes he'd grown all too familiar with the past several months, and the pit in his stomach churned at the encounter. Luna was busy eying his forehead, unbothered by his horror-struck staring.

"Your leg needs immediate attention, sir," she said, sliding her gaze over to Draco's father sitting nearby. "It's out of my expertise and simple healing charms."

Silence followed Luna's statement. The three were too baffled by her calm demeanor and words to know how to respond. Lucius pulled his leg back to hide under his robes, but the flinch did not go unnoticed by Luna.

"I'll send for Madam Pomfrey." She drew her wand and sent her rabbit patronus hopping away with a muttered message before looking back to Draco.

"Are you experiencing sharp, headache-like pain right now?" she continued, moistening a cloth in a bowl of milky water beside her. "May I?"

Draco saw that she had an array of various medical items laid out. He pulled back when she attempted to wipe the blood from the side of his face.

"What are you doing?" his tone was sharper than intended, but it didn't seem to faze her.

"I'm treating your injuries," Luna said simply. "But I do need to know if you're experiencing any headache-like pain or strong, sharp pangs from this gash. If it was caused by a blow to the head, you could have gotten a mild to moderate concussion from it."

She sounded so professional and unaffected by everything she went through at his family's and his own hands not so long ago. If it were Draco, he'd leave the ones who held him captive to suffer. He knew that wasn't in Luna's nature, but he still didn't feel like he should accept her care despite this.

Draco ignored her question again. "Why are you helping me?"

"I volunteered to help Madam Pomfrey with the injured," Luna replied. "And you are clearly injured."

He shook his head, wincing at the action. "So? I—we don't deserve it. We're only here to be seen, not tended to."

Luna didn't seem bothered by Draco's standoffish behavior, instead she placed her clean cloth carefully back into the bowl of healing solution and wrung it out. "It's the Healer's Code to treat all the sick and injured regardless of affiliations. Denying someone care violates this code and goes against what Healers are sworn to do."

"But you aren't a Healer, so that code doesn't apply to you," Draco countered.

By this time Madam Pomfrey was addressing an equally standoffish Lucius. The stubbornness of the two Malfoys was only taking away from other's care now, which wasn't setting well with Draco.

"It's good to practice regardless," Luna said, not easily discouraged. "Being an apprentice mediwitch is a good skill to have, don't you think? It was what I was doing before I was taken."

Draco scoffed, looking away from her as his stomach twisted at her last statement. "What about your undiscovered creatures?"

She pressed the cloth against his head then, and Draco flinched at the contact but soon felt the warm throb of the gash slowly be pulled away. Underneath the stinging fumes of the medication, the healing solution smelled of lemon and pine—so much like the polish the Malfoy elves used on the manor's furniture and doors. While he could pretend she wasn't there offering him healing, grace, and conversation, he couldn't hide from the feelings and memories that scent dredged up.

Despite Luna being a prisoner in the Malfoy's home, Draco had often found himself with his back pressed against the door to the cellar, talking to her about whatever came to mind. He was the one ordered to all but drag her back to the cellar after she had been tortured for information. He was the one who left the pitiful meals...

It brought them both a strange comfort during those times, at least until other prisoners were added to the mix. He stopped visiting after that.

"I still plan to pursue them," she said, holding the cloth firmly in place. "You don't have to set aside one thing for another."

"Witch of all trades?" he prompted.

"Master of none," Luna said, nodding.

"It doesn't bother you, though?" he asked suddenly, wincing when she removed the cloth. "We… I hurt you… yet you're still here wiping blood off my face and talking to me like an old… something."

She took a deep breath at the question, reaching for a salve in the meantime. "Harboring a grudge of such magnitude causes far more harm than good in the long run to both people. You are a victim as much as I was even though we were on opposite sides of the cellar door. Besides," Luna said, sweeping a heavy portion of a medicated numbing salve over the gash on the side of Draco's forehead, "you helped more than you hurt, so I believe that says a lot about you."

He allowed the calm buzz of background noise to rest between them for several seconds as he pondered her words.

"Although, if you'd like to start building a little good will, there is one thing you could do," Luna added, gently reaching for his hand next.

Draco was more compliant this time, holding it out to her despite the agony flaring up his arm. "What's that?"

Her small smile blossomed into a grin. "You could start by answering my question about your head injury."

Originally Written For:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Monthly Challenges for All

Word Count: 1,400

Originally Written: May 2019