A cruel war was ending in front of his eyes, a war in which he could not define himself as either the victor or the vanquished.
War becomes eternal. They are a representation of hell on earth and show us how the world is not the world. A war is a war, whether it is won or lost , there is always damage. There are material losses, which are the most insignificant, although many blinded by greed see it otherwise, and painful losses; friends, family... love, the real treasures, are lost.
Love seems to be forgotten during a war. Opponents look at each other with pure hatred and lose themselves in the heat of battle, forgetting that once one could have been a friend to the other. Fear flows along with anger. But the good thing is that many people struggle to keep alive that love and peace that may have been taken from them or that they are prevented from obtaining just because someone else is not happy.
What friendship, compassion or love could he expect after that war? Only that of his parents, who fled by his side without a word, all three of them exhausted.
He was alive... But where was that life going to go now, what was the right thing to do now? He wondered, what would the end of this war bring? There was no chance. He must have been lucky enough to get out of that hell. Now he was drifting and walking briskly away from the bustle of the crowd around the castle, which a few hours ago had radiated majesty and now seemed to be fading into the smouldering embers of war. Even if he closed his eyes and paid attention, it seemed he could hear the screams of the victims and see the flashes of wands casting deadly spells and curses. But he had simply survived, a cunning as well as a cowardly act, according to various opinions. He had protected what he cared about, but not everything he wanted most. He was disturbed.
What kind of peace would he get now? Although the cause of the war and all the pain had been defeated, he did not feel safe. He had lost something very valuable during this fight, he didn't know if it would last forever. He was not able to defend it; out of fear, out of doubt, out of wanting to defend other things he cherished, his parents in particular. Now he was far from finding again that valuable treasure that he abandoned in the midst of the struggle. It was not something material; it was a look; the look of someone peculiar, full of light and serenity. Striking eyes in a mixture of grey and blue. It was the look of someone who did not want to give up, of someone who had suffered a lot, the look of someone who had his back, of someone who looked at the world from a strange perspective, totally different from his own. The loving gaze of someone he had left at the mercy of the Death Eaters during the fight.
Deep inside Draco Malfoy felt sharp pangs of pain and regret with every step he took, remembering what he had just left behind. He wasn't sure if it was a physical pain, it was the pain of a heart that seemed to have started beating and feeling only a short time ago thanks to that look. He was caught in a tangle of thoughts, walking without being fully conscious, hearing his father's agitated breathing and feeling the warmth of his mother, who held his son's hand tightly. He felt empty and at the same time he felt his heart was about to burst every moment that the memory of that look and of how he let her go came flooding back to his mind. But he would never reveal such feelings, at least not very easily.
What was he supposed to do?
He was afraid to look back at the castle.
Would he have lost the possessor of that magical gaze? A part of him said it couldn't be possible. -A little of his optimism had rubbed off on him. She had a special way about her that made him draw strength from even the worst situations.
Luna Lovegood was definitely unique.
At first, the expression of that strange girl looked to him like any other; When he did not see her smile, a gesture that at first seemed exaggerated and ridiculous when the girl curved her lips, her expressions were indescribable to him, with time he came to realise that she was a master of dissimulation regarding most of her emotions and not because she needed to hide anything, simply because the girl thought that one should try to smile at least once a day, when she felt like it she was transparent with others and he at first did not take much interest in her either. As time went on, she discovered that she had a great inner world that she sometimes preferred to keep to herself. He had to look closely the first time the girl laid her hand gently on his shoulder and spoke words of comfort to him, he looked straight into her eyes and discovered a special part of her, it made him feel good, a little calmer at least. And now he was running away and he didn't know what could have become of the young girl with the dreamy voice and the dreamy eyes.
A horrible thought came to him: Could the light in his eyes have gone out forever?
Suddenly he was forced back to cruel reality all at once, for as they walked along he noticed that a group of trees, rocks and debris began to move, blocking their path. He looked up on guard and took a closer look around, it was obvious that someone didn't want them to leave and had conjured up a whole group of obstacles. His mother had a look of panic on her face, and his father, who was ahead of them, his face tired and dull, had remained static in a guard position, thinking that it was time for him to pay for all the damage.
They heard a voice behind them.
"Draco!" It was a familiar male voice.
The former Slytherin, a bit fearful and embarrassed - who would have thought it - took a breath and tried to stand up straight to turn around and face the young wizard who was demanding his attention. The victorious Harry Potter stood a few feet away from the bewildered Malfoy family. In those moments Lucius wondered if the boy, 'The Chosen One', the victor, had come to ask for justice - and who knows what Lucius Mafoy's concept of that word had left him? 'justice' - while Narcissa wondered if he had come with the intention of taking Draco away. The young Malfoy, waiting for Potter to make the first move for whatever it was. The way his old rival was looking at him was strange, for there was no rancour in his eyes, no smile of triumph towards either of them, only serenity and weariness, a lot of weariness.
The Gryffindor spoke slowly, thinking about how he was going to give her what seemed like strange but serious news:
"I don't know if you're really interested in knowing this..." He didn't seem to know what words to use to make the situation less awkward after the harsh events of the battle"My friend, Luna Lovegood, has been attacked and she's in a serious condition. And, I don't quite understand why, but she said your name." he said suspiciously "She wants to see you, she needs to tell you something, and perhaps taking you with her will help her to recover."
At these words, the young Malfoy's heart skipped a beat again. He slowly let go of his mother's trembling hand and took a few steps.
"Draco... We have to..." Lucius tried to speak in a broken voice, not understanding what was happening.
Draco turned and stared at his parents; he couldn't force them to go back, the situation was too strange and complicated for them. They had spent the whole morning on the sidelines in the castle watching the results after the battle, in a corner of the Great Dining Hall wondering what reprisals would be taken against them and feeling totally out of place, and when they finally decided to go home, they were startled to find that none other than the victor of that tiresome war was asking for a few minutes of their time.
Perhaps this was all a ruse to get the Malfoy family to return to the castle with their heads down?
"I'm not forcing you to come, Draco" Harry said as the Slytherin looked doubtful "but, if it turns out that you can help her get better and what I'm telling you means something to you, you should come with me. I'm just trying to comply with my friend's request."
His friend...
The thoughts of who he had protected during the battle flashed through the young Slytherin's mind again for a moment; he had failed to fully protect the most precious thing he had, the rare bond he had with this strange girl. He had left her alone fighting to fetch his wand and then his mother. He hadn't seen her again after the fight - or maybe he had, he thought he had seen her from afar, he wasn't quite sure, because his desire to see her and see her safe was deceiving him, and he knew she would be busy after the battle - and now he received the news from his old opponent, with whom he had had several run-ins that night - a few hours ago he had saved her from being burned to death in the Great Hall, damn it... - that she was hurt and had something to say to him. Fear came over him again, if it was serious he had to hurry, he didn't know if he would ever see her again even if she was all right. He wasn't going to stay calm either until he saw what had happened to her. He owed her at least that much.
What was happening to him?
"Dra-Draco..." his mother murmured this time, seeming to have calmed down a little when she saw that they weren't trying to take her son away by force. His nervous countenance had changed to a sad and confused look.
No, his parents could not and would not back down, it would be the worst humiliation for Lucius, worse than those he suffered from the defeated Dark Lord. That faith in the bloodline had gotten out of hand. And going back to the castle would be nothing compared to a hearing from the Ministry, which would surely not be long in coming after a few days when the magical world tried to return to normal and it didn't matter where his family was. One way or another they couldn't get away so easily.
"Go on ahead a bit' the boy said at last, looking mainly at his mother, 'I promise I'll catch up with you later."
Narcissa sighed at the same time as her countenance hardened again and Lucius didn't think much of it, they had somewhere to hide for a short period of time, he took his wife by the arm and began to walk nimbly looking for a nook and cranny between the obstacles Potter had placed in the way.
Draco turned his attention to Harry waiting to get going. The Gryffindor followed the Malfoy couple with his eyes for a moment and then looked at Draco. Both young men watched the ravages of war on the other closely.
In wars there are no winners, only losers.
"We'd better hurry" Harry said, his tone of voice sounding neither resigned nor annoyed. The Malfoy didn't understand why such a change. "She's in the Great Hall."
On the short walk back to the castle neither of them said anything. Perhaps anything that needed to be said was too strange at the time. Both had in mind that the goal was the castle and nothing else. Once near the gardens, the young Malfoy occasionally noticed the stares of a few students on him, 'And this has only just begun...' he said to himself. He, who had always wanted to be the centre of attention, had succeeded, but not in the way he had hoped.
The Great Hall was crowded, as were some of the corridors, the wounded were numerous; lying, bandaged, sharing food and blankets amongst themselves, some wandering about nervously, others talking in small groups. There were no full smiles of victory, only tired faces. The worst were the dead, they had been moved to a room behind the Great Dining Hall and before he marched off with his parents he had time to see how they covered the bodies of some of them with white sheets as a sign of respect, which made the boy's blood run even colder. Sobbing, murmuring and the occasional innocent, quiet chuckle, the laughter came mostly from the younger ones. It was a bittersweet mix of victory.
Suddenly he saw her:
She was lying on the side of the large platform near a window, on two benches that had been used as a stretcher, her head resting on a cushion. She was pale.
"What's happened to her?" Draco asked Harry before approaching and breaking the silence at last.
"We were outside getting people in order, we've ordered some shuttles to King's Cross and Luna offered to help, when suddenly a Death Eater, who was apparently hiding in the rubble, I don't know if he was playing dead or disguised by a spell, stunned her from behind before escaping. He was trying to hit me... and she... got in the way..."
Malfoy noticed that Harry's gaze was darkening as he explained what had happened, the scarred young man was blaming himself. It was clear that the Death Eater who attacked thought he should do something for his late Dark Lord, try to kill Potter in a last, absurd attempt at desperation and revenge, but unfortunately Luna was in the middle of it and got the worst of it.
"She has the right side of her body paralysed" continued The Chosen One, 'we believe the curse has moved closer to her heart so they are afraid to intervene here without the necessary ingredients for some potions. We're going to take her to St. Mungo's, but she's started to come round a bit and we need to take care of helping here and... well, you were one of the people I wanted to see."
A part of young Malfoy began to boil with rage;
Why was Potter so slow?
Why, as the most powerful wizard, the boy who survived, the one who had just defeated the Dark Lord, did he let this misfortune happen?
The Chosen One couldn't protect his friend from the hands of a stupid, insignificant Death Eater, because after all, he knew that everyone was insignificant at heart. He hoped that he could meet and find the bastard and rip off his arm where the Dark Mark was tattooed... That he would feel all the pain that Luna was feeling at that moment.
Draco had always looked out for his own and only cared about humiliating his own enemies, but now it seemed that he was trying to settle a score with the young Ravenclaw by seeking revenge for her. Although the boy knew that the girl was not spiteful or vengeful, seeing her lying so weak and motionless on the benches of the Great Dining Hall only made him angry and helpless, he wished to do something for her and revenge was the first thing he thought of. After a few seconds, those bad thoughts faded away as he took a closer look at the girl.
At that moment he noticed the curious and accusing glances of many who passed him: a feeling of discomfort and embarrassment was beginning to grow in him, and even more so as he stood next to Potter and watched the Weasleys, Granger and Longbottom approaching with cautious expressions, all looking horrible and exhausted both physically and mentally, they were all in agreement.
It seemed that Malfoy had missed something important in Luna's first moment of lucidity, and even if Potter had told him, seeing those people with those strange eyes, so tired and showing as much discomfort and uncertainty as Harry's seemed surreal to him. But Luna needed him at that moment, she knew she needed him and everyone around her at that moment.
The young Lovegood was semi-conscious and under Malfoy's gaze and that of the Gryffindor's she looked more fragile than ever: she was lying with her left arm resting on her belly and her right lying stiffly on the bench, as were her thin legs. Her face and hands were bruised, and it looked like a bruise was beginning to appear over her right eye.
It was hard to see her like that. And from what it seemed to Draco, it looked as if her friends had never been so aware of her before. All with expectant eyes.
No one expected that Madam Pomfrey would come out of nowhere with a green glass jar in her hand. She had a serene expression, the woman had spent the entire battle relentlessly assisting those present and helping to preserve the dignity of the deceased.
"It will take time, but she'll be all right,'"she said, addressing Potter in particular. "Fortunately, Miss Lovegood was attacked from the side. The hex hit her right belly area and has spread from the bottom up, first weighing her right leg down, causing her to lose her balance, and then she lost feeling in her arm until it reached her neck. We have to be very patient. What worries me most is the lung and the eye as they are the organs that take the longest to return to normal, but she will get through this. Luckily she did not receive the attack from the left side, as it would have been more dangerous for the heart. This ointment will do him good until the healers come."
"What is it?" Draco asked, unable to contain himself.
"Some kind of ointment to relax the muscles," the woman looked at him with the same expression of surprise and disbelief as the rest of them, not expecting to see a Death Eater there. "It will do for now until she's settled in at St. Mungo's, we're looking for the ultimate counterspell, depending on how she responds later we'll give her something stronger. She'll be breathing hard now and she might be a little blurry, we won't know until she can gesture better."
The young girl at that moment had her eyes closed and her mouth half open, trying to catch her breath.
The nurse handed the little green bottle to Harry, who, with the rest of them, listened and nodded as she gave the instructions, "Apply a drop of ointment to his arm, eye, neck and ankle, just a drop and it will spread by itself. Every half hour." and then he left to tend to another group of wounded.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley along with Percy, Charlie, Bill and Fleur left to continue the task of reorganising the people in the shuttles, but not before looking at Draco, each in their own way, wondering the same thing as the rest.
What was he doing standing there so attentively? He didn't seem to know himself.
"Well, Harry, Hermione and I will put the ointment on Luna,' said Ginny approaching the boy and taking the jar, "You guys go to another task, it won't do much good to stand here waiting around doing nothing... You need some rest too. At least try."
"Yes, there's nothing left to do but wait," Hermione added, approaching the bench where Luna was lying at the same time as Neville Longbottom.
Draco analysed the boy more closely: the sturdy brown-haired Gryffindor placed a hand gently next to the healthy hand of the Ravenclaw girl, conveying in that gesture everything he was unable to express. Malfoy didn't quite understand that, but he knew that at that moment Neville was showing a lot of concern, he looked uneasy and he knew that it hurt him to think that the most he could do to help the girl was to shake her hand. As Draco watched that simple gesture and the look Longbottom was giving Luna, he noticed how the Gryffindor's presence bothered him, because through those details he was showing sincerity, concern, protection, confidence and a hint of hidden desire. In some ways it seemed that he knew how she felt and could identify with him, taking away the note of sincerity that she feared so much.
"Come on Harry, she's in good hands."said Ron with his brother George, both looking worried. We'll take turns looking after her until St. Mungo's comes.
"How are you going to take her to St. Mungo's if she's paralysed?" Malfoy questioned.
All eyes turned defiantly to him as soon as he opened his mouth, he expected it.
'Why do you care?" Neville spat at that moment, which didn't cause much surprise among those present, but it did surprise
Draco, who wasn't prepared to be as sincere as he was. 'What are you doing here again?" Neville raised his eyebrow in disbelief. "What do you care what happens to Luna? You've always thought her insignificant and a freak. What little attention you've paid to her has been to let your entourage mess with her. You have no business here, you don't know Luna or what she's going through because of bloody Death Eaters like you. Well, you don't even come close to being like them because of how pathetic you've been...
The Slytherin saw clearly, it was easier to get defensive, even if he didn't have much left to be proud of.
"Shut your mouth, Longbottom, because you don't know anything,' he replied as calmly as he could, slurring his words, but giving the boy a look of hatred and some resentment as he could see that, although he had sat up, Neville was still holding Luna's hand more firmly and protectively than before.
"Well, if we don't know anything, then explain yourself, Malfoy" Harry interjected, preventing the start of a possible fight. I think we need to know why our friend called your name and said she needed to see you. That she needed to tell you something.
"Luna was delirious, Harry, how could she want to see this one?" said Ron dismissively.
It seemed that neither the red-headed boy nor Longbottom believed that Draco and Luna could have had any contact at all, and they put the young girl's mumbling down to memories of the battle, having refused to let Harry go and look for Malfoy as they saw it as unnecessary.
"No, let him explain,' Ginny objected, crossing her arms, 'he came voluntarily after all, right, Harry? That must be for a reason. We know that she was kidnapped in your house, Malfoy."
Draco Malfoy was under pressure again, but this time in a different way. He looked at the fragile Luna and before answering, he thought his answer through:
"Lovegood said my name and I was simply curious to see. Whats going on?"
"But why exactly does he want to see you?" the red-haired girl asked again suspiciously.
Draco had had enough.
"Have you ever done anything to her before to get her to say your name?" Harry asked.
Ron Weasley rubbed his knuckles.
"Did you two argue during the battle?" Granger interjected, giving him another suspicious look.
"Something like that. I ran into Luna twice in some hallways, but we didn't argue,' the boy clarified a little, tired of so many questions. This is very strange for me too, but instead of bothering about what happened before, why don't you just give her the medicine at once?
At that moment Neville stood up and took a few steps towards Malfoy with an uncharacteristically menacing look on his face. For Draco, he didn't look at all like the same boy he had known in his early days at Hogwarts and had messed with so much years before, but he glared back at him without taking a step back, expecting a punch or a shout from the one who was now a complete and savage stranger to him.
"If I find out you've done something to my friend, you'll pay for it," the Gryffindor spoke firmly, clenching his fists.
"Do you think I'd be here so calmly if I'd done anything to her?" Draco questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe. You snakes can be quite devious if you want to be. By the way, I cut the head off one a few hours ago," he showed a sarcastic half-smile. "Don't think I'll hesitate to face you."
"Good to know, Longbottom. One day you'll have to step out from under your grandmother's skirts…"
"That's enough," Harry interrupted, his tone firm and weary. "Luna has mentioned nearly everyone here. If it turns out she was speaking with purpose, maybe Draco being here will help."
"For what?" Ron asked, still unconvinced. "Pomfrey said she only hurt her muscles…"
"The curse might have also affected her consciousness, Ron," Hermione informed, "it was a stunning curse, and she hit her head when she fell, so it's possible that even if she wakes up, her memory might be affected, and everyone's presence here might help… Though I think it would be better if Malfoy stayed out of it until Luna fully comes to," she said, frowning at the boy.
"As far as I'm concerned, pretend I'm not here." replied the boy with blonde hair, relaxing his tone and ignoring the inquisitive looks from everyone. "But I'll ask again, how are you planning to get her to St. Mungo's?"
It looked like Neville was about to resume their argument, but he was interrupted just in time:
"We're waiting for the protective spells to be lifted so we can move people to Hogsmeade using Portkeys," Harry explained. "Then we'll take Luna with a levitation charm to a carriage that'll take her to the village, and there we'll wait for a vehicle charmed by St. Mungo's."
They had to wait, and as the saying goes, "waiting makes one despair," but there was something good to take from the situation: Luna was there, there was still hope; that weary, pearly face hadn't faded away. The girls began applying medicine to her, while the rest dispersed around the Great Hall, trying to make use of their time in other tasks. Draco stayed near the platform, isolated in the spot where the Slytherin table used to be, once again the subject of curious glances from students, professors, and parents. He tried to block out the commotion by focusing only on Luna.
What could be going through young Luna Lovegood's mind?
The minutes passed agonizingly slowly, and the noise and bustle didn't stop...
Bored, he decided to get closer than before to the bench where Luna now lay, watched over by Granger and Dean Thomas, who had appeared out of nowhere a few minutes ago to relieve the youngest Weasley. He knew that as long as Longbottom and Weasley weren't around, there wouldn't be as much of an issue, and he'd be able to observe Luna more closely. Perhaps something would occur to him to bring her back.
The girl's expression was more serious; she seemed to be starting to move slightly, but her eye still looked bad. She was unconscious, but the tension in her face suggested that, in addition to being paralyzed, she was enduring severe pain.
For the second time in his life, Draco Malfoy felt helpless and useless.
He had always hated weakness, especially his own. He couldn't deceive himself, exactly as this strange girl lying at his feet had once told him. He hated so much brutal honesty; perhaps that's why he ended up as unhinged as he had considered her to be in the beginning, and why he ended up secretly admiring the ease with which Lovegood tended to drive him mad with her words.
And there he was, watching her with sadness.
No matter how much time had passed, he still didn't understand anything. He knew the war had changed them all, but he'd been so blinded by fear and anguish that he hadn't stopped to think until he saw Lord Voldemort's corpse. Until that moment, he'd felt like a puppet, but he neither wanted nor could allow anyone to cut the strings—not even her, no matter how drawn he might have felt to her. That's why he silently apologized the first time he saw her in the cellar of his mansion.
It was so curious to think how our way of seeing the world changes when we start to get to know people. And that was also strange to admit, since for Draco Malfoy, confined in his luxurious bubble where his behavior was programmed like that of a robot and he was reminded every day of the need to make distinctions about everything and everyone, almost nothing seemed curious to him—until she entered his thoughts.
Up until then, for him, everything had been either black or white, light or darkness, Aurors or Death Eaters, and she, in the midst of it all, was a gentle "gray."
When they first met, he hated her instantly.
He had always used many adjectives to describe her, the first being "weird"—it was so obvious to him... And he only held one opinion in common between what he thought of her back then and what he thought now: the girl wasn't of this world, she wasn't of *his* world. She was unusual enough to make it clear that getting close to her was dangerous.
For him, it was his second year at Hogwarts. They had just arrived, and it was time for the sorting of the first years. He was sitting quietly at the Slytherin table, unaware of the many events that would take place that year, and, bored with his friends' conversation, he decided to look up at the platform and pay attention to the Sorting. When he saw her, a look of disgust and doubt crossed his face; she was such a small girl, with such a loud appearance, that it was unpleasant. She wore the school robe like everyone else, but at the same time, she didn't seem to fit in with that group of newcomers. Her gaze made it seem as though she was disconnected from reality, as if she were a visitor from another planet. In her mop of light blonde hair, full of tangles, dangled a pair of radish-shaped earrings. As soon as she put on the Sorting Hat, it looked like a giant mushroom, which made him chuckle quietly and reveal a slight smile. Then they heard, "Ravenclaw!" and he felt immensely relieved that this bug-eyed little character was walking toward a different table.
And over time, that memory stayed in his subconscious, waiting to resurface whenever he needed to smile to himself once he got to know her better.
The nickname he used when he truly got to know her was "Loony," nothing unusual for those who made fun of her. He wanted it to sound hurtful, but she always remained unfazed and sometimes even amused, as if to tell him that no matter how hard he tried to ridicule her, she was stronger than he thought—which was true. And as strange as it sounded, over time, that nickname became his feeble way of saying that the girl caught his attention to the point where he cared what she thought. He considered her someone unusual, special. And by Merlin, it got to the point where he missed her madness and thought about the kind of remarks she might make when she wasn't around.
How can so much magic be created with a simple greeting?
The first time they exchanged words was when they met in the Forbidden Forest. He was already in the beginning of his sixth year, struggling with that depressing inner conflict about his duties—how to prove himself a loyal follower of the dark side and its arts while trying to protect his family from further punishment. He had skipped his last class of the day; by that point, everything seemed a waste of time. Yet he had no desire to return to the Room of Requirement, and as he wandered through the forest, distracted by his thoughts, he had the misfortune of stumbling into a trap set by the gamekeeper to capture a creature unharmed for his next class. The unlucky Slytherin found himself stuck and immobilized, tangled in vines at the bottom of a deep pit. He cursed, searching for his wand among the folds of his robe as best he could, moving his only free arm stiffly and without success. Only his head and part of his shoulders were exposed, as the branches and vines seemed to have a life of their own, preventing him from climbing out, though he kept trying. Night was falling, and the idea of remaining there much longer without his wand was not appealing.
Suddenly, he heard several footsteps, and from among the bushes emerged one of the strangest and most horrid creatures Draco had ever seen. It filled him with aversion and discomfort; it was a small, skeletal, grayish animal with bat-like wings, the body of a horse, and the face of a reptile.
The creature approached and began sniffing him, making sharp, high-pitched sounds. The boy felt utterly humiliated and, at that moment, was grateful that no one was around to see him in such a state. The strange creature rubbed its snout through his hair, messing up his blond fringe so badly that he could hardly see clearly.
"Relax, it won't hurt you," he heard a small, amused voice say amidst the curses he was muttering at the creature as he complained about its breath. "It just likes your head, that's all—but it doesn't eat human flesh."
"Very reassuring!" he exclaimed sarcastically, fed up with the little creature ignoring his shouts and threats and refusing to leave him alone. "Get me out of here, whoever you are!"
"Linebrus, come here, behave yourself," the feminine voice called to the creature, addressing it as if it were a baby. "Look what I've brought you today."
The creature backed away from the Slytherin's face and trotted over to the girl, finally giving him a bit of visibility. Through his tangled hair, he could make out another head of blonde hair, belonging to a small, crouched figure in front of the creature as if it were a puppy. She was pulling food from a bag and tossing it to the animal, which would scamper after it as if they were playing. She looked cheerful and at ease, as though she felt perfectly at home here, seemingly unaware of the boy's rather unusual predicament. Was she mocking him?
"Hey! In case you hadn't noticed, I'm trapped."
"Hm?" the young girl murmured, looking directly at him for the first time, with a distracted air.
Suddenly, that gaze sparked a memory—he'd seen that look a few times before, though he hadn't paid it much attention. He pieced it together until he recalled the first time he'd seen her. Now he knew who she was; she hadn't changed a bit... Potter's strange friend. This only irritated him more. Not only was he trapped, but his only help was Hogwarts' resident Ravenclaw oddball, who could easily run off and tell her friend with the scar what she'd found in the forest that afternoon.
What else could go wrong?
"Well, well, a Kolmein trap…!" The girl stood up, moving closer to the edge of the pit and examining the tree behind him with curiosity. She paced back and forth, running her fingers through her side ponytail. "I'm afraid Hagrid didn't set it up quite right; he forgot to put rock salt around the hole… Do you want me to help you get out?"
Was she serious?
The girl stared at him curiously, which made him turn his gaze away, focusing instead on the winged animal that was still trotting around, looking for more food.
"Yes! Hurry up, girl!"
A strange pause followed, during which the girl remained completely still, unfazed.
"My name is Luna. I've seen you before... You're Draco Malfoy," she responded thoughtfully, her eyes wide and innocent.
"I know, 'Loony Lovegood,'" he replied, exasperated. "Does that mean you're going to leave me here?"
"For Linebrus, you'd make great entertainment; he doesn't seem very upset about it. But no, it's not wise to stay here after dark."
The boy met her gaze again. She was still fiddling with the curls of her messy hair, her robe seeming to fit her better than usual, adorned with her strange trinkets, and her wand tucked behind one ear as if nothing could possibly go wrong. What bothered him most at that moment was her passivity. She was definitely mocking him.
"Fine, forget it. Just leave and take that creature with you. I'll manage… somehow," he muttered, struggling again and feeling pain in his shoulders.
The girl knelt in front of him, coming within a head and a half of his height and respecting the personal space between them very little. Her wide eyes looked bewildered, but not in the same way Draco's did.
Another brief silence fell as the girl seemed to be planning something outrageous, while he cursed himself because, even if he wouldn't admit it, her help was exactly what he needed right now.
Suddenly, turning slightly between the creature and the boy, Luna asked him:
"Do you know what kind of creature Linebrus is?"
"Neither do I know, nor do I care," snapped the Slytherin. "Just make sure it doesn't come near me again," he added threateningly.
The girl's curious expression shifted to one of pity for the boy. He noticed, and resented her even more for it.
"Well..." Lovegood sighed. "No, no way, you won't get out on your own. But you know, that attitude isn't going to help you either."
"What are you talking about?"
"First of all, I have to say that ever since I saw you behind those bushes, all you've done is act unpleasant," she said, gesturing behind her without taking her eyes off him. "Even the trees in this forest can sense it, which attracts some rather unfriendly creatures…"
Who did this girl think she was, and why was she talking to him like he was a child?
Linebrus approached again, nosing around her robe for the bag of food she had brought. She didn't move an inch, letting the creature rummage freely.
"Are you really going to give me a lecture on manners while we're just standing here?" he asked incredulously.
"Well, in this case, you're the one more *planted* than I am," she replied, glancing at the edge of the pit with a slight smile, "and I think you could use a few lessons you seem to have lost along the way. But I'm telling you because everything here is connected. This trap has a life of its own; it must have mistaken you for a wild animal…"
"Perfect!" he snapped sarcastically. "Stop beating around the bush; you talk too much. If you're going to help me, then do it. If not, just leave."
"That's your problem... you're too aggressive. To get out, you need to calm down, Draco Malfoy."
The Slytherin couldn't understand how this insignificant girl was talking to him so casually. True, she didn't seem angry, but her unfiltered boldness irritated him to no end.
"It's easy to tell me to calm down when *you're* not the one trapped," he grumbled, now shaking his head to move the hair that, thanks to the creature's "grooming," was flopping down into his eyes.
"If you want to get out, you don't have much choice," she replied, holding back a laugh as he shook his head like that.
"And what good will that do?"
The girl finally moved to act. Before answering, she reached over and gently pushed the strands of hair out of his eyes as if they were bothering her more than him. Draco felt even more uncomfortable; why was this girl taking such liberties? He thought about telling her off, but complaining about something so small out loud would only make him feel even more exposed.
"It's a magical trap; I've seen them many times on outings with my father..." she commented casually, as if talking to a close friend. "Let's see… there must be a way to deactivate it, some spell or lever… But it won't work if you don't stay still and calm down." She put a hand on her chin, scanning the area with an analytical gaze. "I think I can lower you, but it'd be nice, and your situation would improve a lot, if you asked me nicely."
"Oh, come on…" he said, narrowing his eyes.
"Well, in that case, I'm afraid I won't be able to get you out…" she replied, smiling in a way that seemed to say, "What can you do?" while shrugging.
"I *told* you, if you don't want to help me, *don't help me!*"
"And I told you, it's not that I don't want to, but until you calm down, I *can't.* If you keep this up, your circulation will cut off. The best thing is to relax and just say *please*…"
The boy was beginning to rethink things—his so-called helper was driving him mad within minutes. He wanted her to leave, along with her strange creature, so he went back on the defensive, hoping that by humiliating or annoying her, she'd get fed up and go. Then he could say whatever he wanted back at school. Let's see who would believe this lunatic about what she saw in the Forbidden Forest.
"Oh yeah? And why would *you* even want to help me? You know I wouldn't do the same for you."
"Well, I don't know that."
"Well, I'm telling you…"
"Just a while ago, you had no idea you'd end up half-buried here. How can you be so sure about what you'd do if you saw me in your place?" she asked, her tone filled with pure curiosity and innocence.
"I know myself," he responded, utterly convinced. "Besides, you're friends with Potter, aren't you? He'd find a way to help you sooner or later," he added, with a hint of disappointment and resentment.
"Ah, I see... But Harry isn't part of my scenario—only you are."
"Lovegood, you're wearing my patience thin. Just go away and stop distracting me," he grumbled, already feeling mentally exhausted.
"No, I think I'll stay a bit longer. I can help you; just let me know when you're ready, ask politely, and I'll get you out," she replied sweetly, standing up again under the blonde's incredulous gaze before moving toward another tree.
She had a disconcerting kindness that unsettled him.
"Take that creature with you!" he exclaimed when Linebrus returned to sniff at his face.
Lovegood let out an undisguised laugh, pulling an apple from her bag to entice the creature away from him.
"It's funny how much effort he puts into not working…" she commented, petting the winged colt.
A while passed in silence, with Draco deciding not to speak to Luna, who also respected the quiet. He was out of ideas and growing more embarrassed by his situation. His resentment toward the Hogwarts gamekeeper had only intensified—those blasted traps! He would have loved to expose the man with his father's help, but he was the one caught, the one who'd skipped class... and things weren't the same as before; he didn't have time to waste.
Reflecting on the girl's strange explanations, he reluctantly considered that she might be right. Perhaps the trap was indeed alive, and maybe it wouldn't hurt to try asking politely. She already thought him low enough—what difference did it make? She was just "Loony Lovegood," after all.
She sat on the branch of a nearby tree, her back turned, flipping through a magazine. Was she aware of how bold she was being?
Fed up with it all, Draco decided to start counting to ten to calm himself, just in case she was right. It was getting darker, and his hands had started going numb…
His resolve strengthened when, out of nowhere, two more winged creatures like the one the girl called Linebrus appeared. Draco was stunned. He'd been right to think the first was a youngling; these newcomers were much larger, with impressive, darker wings. He found himself in awe, though he didn't relish the thought of more creatures coming to sniff him out.
Taking a deep breath, he counted to ten, then twenty, then angrily all the way to fifty. Finally, he said:
"Lovegood!"
"Hmm?" She turned around, blinking a few times.
"Could you... help me get out of here... please?" Each word was a dagger to his pride.
"Of course, as long as you're calm, no problem." She got up unsteadily, took a few strides toward him, and removed her wand from behind her ear, aiming it at the tree behind him, which made Draco feel like the target of a dartboard. She said, "*Finite!*"
Draco felt the vines and branches release him, and the hole gradually widened, giving him space to climb out. However, his limbs were stiff, and he struggled to move, swaying and ending up leaning against the edge of the pit.
"You might have to wait a bit before you can move again," the Ravenclaw explained. "You're probably pretty tangled up…"
"Alright…" He felt filthy and his whole body was numb, but having the pit open up was a relief. It seemed the girl knew what she was doing, but he wasn't fooled—he knew that whole relaxation bit was just a trick. After all, the spell she'd used was very simple; she'd just wanted him to say "please," that was all.
Lovegood knelt down again in the same spot, waiting for him to recover, and seemed to notice that Draco was staring fixedly at the two creatures that had appeared.
"What would you say they are, Draco Malfoy?"
"Some kind of mutant horses, probably raised in secret by that idiot Hagrid," he replied disdainfully, without taking his eyes off them.
"They're Thestrals. You have nothing to fear—they're very peaceful."
"I'm not afraid of them; it's just that they're hideous, and I've never seen them before, so I'm not used to them," he responded peevishly.
"I think they have a certain classical beauty… I'm sorry that you're able to see them."
"Why?" He almost regretted asking.
"Because the only people who can see them are those who've witnessed death." He noticed a slight change in her tone of voice. The entire time she'd been speaking to him in that irritatingly soft, serene voice, talking casually about anything, with a calm, slightly amused, curious tone. But now it had shifted to one of sorrow and nostalgia. He caught it even though it wasn't obvious—perhaps because he, too, had noticed the change in his own voice from one year to the next, now heavy with sadness. Her explanation darkened his mood further, bringing back memories of everything that had happened at his home just a few months ago during the summer.
Remembering his status as a Death Eater, he wondered why the girl was even being like this with him, given that they both knew whose company each of them kept, even if they'd never spoken about it.
He straightened up and quickly climbed out, brushing off his robes and shaking off branches, muttering curses under his breath. The girl heard him and couldn't help but laugh softly.
"You have scratches on your hands," she observed, still kneeling but now looking up at him, "and a little twig in your hair…"
"What?" he snapped defensively, brushing off his robes again and tidying himself up as best he could. "Am I that amusing to you, Lovegood? I bet you've enjoyed yourself this afternoon."
"Well…" She shrugged slightly, not quite agreeing with him.
"Not. A. Word!" he interrupted, before he could embarrass himself any further.
At that moment, one of the adult Thestrals approached them, spreading its wings with a slow trot.
"Easy," she advised as she stood up. Even then, she was shorter than him and had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes.
Draco, who was eyeing the Thestral cautiously, decided to give in to her warnings. He didn't want things to get any worse.
"Alright," she said, bringing a finger to her lips as if to request silence. "If you raise your voice too much, they won't attack, but if they see you getting close to someone they think is more defenseless, they sometimes react by getting a bit nervous. Especially Tenebrus, but he's not around right now…"
"Thanks for the private lesson on Care of Magical Creatures," he said sarcastically. "Damn it…" He was searching through his pockets, ignoring the creature in front of him, and grew alarmed when he couldn't find that prized magical object. "My wand. It must've fallen in the pit."
"Hold on," she said patiently, taking hold of his sleeve when she saw him about to step back into the trap. "If you step there again, you'll get stuck."
With a spell from her own wand, Lovegood pulled the Slytherin's wand out of the pit and caught it deftly with her free hand while he watched her closely. Then, she handed it to him, and he took it immediately, still wary.
"Why are you doing this?"Draco asked in a tired, subdued voice, sounding genuinely confused.
All this time, his tone had been threatening; he'd been frowning, alternating between aggressive and sarcastic. But as time passed, he seemed to have finally run out of steam and had managed to calm down.
"Doing what?
"Why are you helping me?
"Well, because you were trapped" the girl replied casually, with a half-smile, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "People say I overthink things…" she sighed, turning away to start gathering her things.
"Listen, Lovegood" he said, grabbing her arm quickly but trying not to use force, so she would turn without being alarmed. When she did, he was met with her innocent eyes, and it took him a moment to gather his thoughts. "... I want you to get this very clear: You didn't see me at all today. This incident never happened, understand? If you tell anyone...
"All right" she interrupted calmly. "If that's what you want, I won't say anything. Although you have to admit it's been quite an entertaining afternoon. "She raised an eyebrow, giving him another slight smile.
"Yes, incredibly entertaining" the Slytherin retorted sarcastically. "I'm being serious. I don't have time for your nonsense.
"I understand, your reputation and all that, I suppose. I swear I won't say anything. "She seemed completely unbothered by the situation. "By the way, did you know it's Thestrals that pull the carriages to the school?" she asked, tucking her wand back into her tangled hair with an expression that was both delighted and amused. "People think it's a charm, but it's not.
"You're not right in the head..." he muttered, letting go of her arm.
"Maybe not" she walked off to retrieve her bag" or maybe I'm just as sound as you, considering you can see them too…"
That last comment left Draco speechless, still searching for the right insult.
"Linebrus likes you," the young girl went on. "I'm heading back; I have an assignment to review, and I want to finish before dinner... "She looked back at him as she walked toward a clearing in the forest. —You're welcome, Draco Malfoy.
"Thanks" he whispered to himself with a pang of reluctance, watching her walk away. Then he called out clearly, "I'm warning you, not a word!"
They'd reapplied the muscle salve, and he was beginning to seriously question the point of sitting there. He was starting to regret coming back; seeing her in such a pitiful state only fueled his anger. But he reminded himself that if he didn't do it now, he might not get another chance to hear from her.
After a while, Granger moved away from the benches where Luna was resting—apparently, she had just received a letter via owl—and Thomas was deep in conversation with a few Hufflepuff students about the events of the battle as they organized various items on the platform. Draco took the opportunity to sit beside the Ravenclaw. Maybe his limited knowledge of curse reversal, gleaned from his wretched aunt, might be of some use. At least in the chaos of the Great Hall battle, he'd managed to get hold of an extra wand when a student stunned a Death Eater nearby. He'd taken it in the confusion, slipping it into his jacket while his parents were distracted.
After the second application of the ointment, her face seemed more relaxed, her body less tense, and the swelling in her eye hadn't worsened. Gently, he took her paralyzed hand, feeling how cold it was, and a shiver ran down his spine.
"Luna, wake up," he murmured. "You need to wake up, Loony." He brushed a stray curl from her face.
They had been frequenting the Forbidden Forest for months, treating it as a kind of refuge. There, he felt as though time and the hardships he'd faced throughout the term were frozen, unable to touch his memory most of the time, as if under a spell. And that girl seemed to respect him in her own way; she didn't pressure him, didn't try to make him be or act a certain way, unlike those in his usual circles.
He noticed a dark, depressive transformation within himself, which seemed to stabilize somewhat when he was near the girl with her extraordinary beliefs, though even after all this time he couldn't understand why. All he knew was that he was bound to explode from frustration sooner or later, as his resources to complete his mission were being thwarted.
She wasn't his friend.
She wasn't his ally.
They didn't share the same tastes or hobbies. Though, perhaps, they both felt lost in their own pursuits.
And those views were mutual.
She wasn't his confidante either, since she never pressured him to speak, and when he did, he only revealed half-truths.
They were always alone with the Thestrals, listening to the sounds of nature and getting lost in varied conversations.
"I understand why you don't want to tell me," Luna commented after a long silence.
They had been tasting Every Flavor Beans, and she was now toying with one of the wrappers as if it were more interesting than the topic at hand.
"It's too much for you. Besides, you're loyal to Potter, so you'd be the first to get hurt," he said coldly, as he'd been doing for days since she accidentally discovered the Dark Mark on his arm. At the time, neither of them knew how to react; they had simply resumed speaking because they returned to the forest at their usual hour.
Their meetings had started a little before Slughorn's Christmas party. They never planned to meet—they simply knew how to find each other, and Luna Lovegood, aside from admitting that she found his company entertaining, felt that he was the most defenseless creature in the forest.
She wasn't afraid of him, and Draco knew it, even admired her composure, though he could have used his dark arts tricks to control her at will—an Imperius Curse, for instance—but if he did, she'd be just another puppet, and she would lose the liveliness that now so fascinated him.
"But maybe it would help you to talk to someone, even if it's not me... I think you're carrying too much on your shoulders."
"What do you expect me to do, Luna? It's my mission. Anyone else would be thrilled to have the chance to do this job. He could have chosen anyone, but he chose me, because... because my family deserves it..."
"You don't seem very proud of that..." she said, her expression somber, rising from the log where they always sat. "You might fool many, but you won't fool yourself for long. And, worse yet, you won't fool him. I just hope you don't get hurt too badly."
"It's best if we stop meeting before my task... takes shape..."
"If that's what you want... whatever he's ordered you to do, think about whether it's worth it."
"Luna, with him, there's no time to think—only to act, and if I take a wrong step, I lose everything."
"Putting myself in your place, I understand why you don't trust me—I wouldn't either—but there's still time to switch sides."
"No, absolutely not. This isn't about sides, Luna, it's about ideals."
"It's those ideals that may destroy you—not Potter, but at the hand of *You-Know-Who*."
"Enough…"
"I suppose this will be your last visit to the clearing," she said, starting to walk around her favorite tree. "Linebrus is starting to lift his hooves off the ground."
He raised an eyebrow with mild curiosity and answered, "You suppose right."
"You know, a lot of Hogwarts' ghosts are good listeners. You might say that, for keeping secrets, they're as good as graves."
"I don't need to talk about anything, and the last thing I'd do is share my life story with a ghost, Lunatic. If I told you anything, it's because you saw it."
"I know. And I almost wish I didn't know more; it doesn't feel right hiding things from my friends," she said, frowning for the first time since Draco had started to spend time with her, a clear sign of her discomfort. "But sooner or later, the truth comes to light, and things fall under their own weight."
"Did your mother say that too?" he asked calmly, looking at the sunset.
"No, it's something I've come to see since I've been at this school," she said with a smile, sitting beside him again, offering him a handful of Every Flavor Beans. He took them without hesitation.
Neither of them would admit out loud that they would miss each other.
His nerves were frayed. He had checked the girl's pulse—it was very faint, and her skin was so cold. He noticed she was slightly opening her mouth, as if she were suffocating or struggling against the curse itself within her.
He kept a discreet distance when the girl's friends returned to the hall, but he didn't move away from the benches.
"Potter, her pulse has gotten worse. When the hell are the St. Mungo's healers going to arrive?"
"What do you mean her pulse has gotten worse?" Ginny cut in, clearly concerned. "We've been applying the medicine…"
"Yes, Ginny, but that was just for her muscles," Hermione warned.
"Didn't Pomfrey say that her heart wasn't damaged?" the Slytherin asked, frustration in his voice. "Besides, it's like she's struggling to breathe."
He was already tired of waiting for the healers; if they didn't do something soon, he wasn't sure how he'd react.
"Damn it, I'm going to find Madam Pomfrey, just in case," Ron said, looking at the blond with unease.
"The curse may have spread," Harry said gravely, checking his friend's pulse with an almost paternal look of worry.
Madam Pomfrey appeared shortly after, with Ron explaining that Potter and Malfoy had been right: the curse was spreading. Perhaps a revival spell might work, but given the girl's condition, it could be risky. As soon as she woke up, they would have to help her sit up and drink a potion. All those present needed to give their consent since her father wasn't there, and the eldest Weasley couple agreed.
Draco felt an enormous pressure in his chest from the stress, and the agonizing slowness of it all was driving him to the brink.
The nurse raised her wand to perform what was supposedly high-level healing magic, reserved for highly qualified healers. The others gave her room, with Potter supporting Luna by the shoulders, and Neville Longbottom volunteering to monitor her heartbeat.
A series of spheres surrounded by a blue glow began to pulse on the young girl's chest at three-second intervals. Draco fixed his gaze on Luna, feeling as though he was torturing himself watching her convulse with each impact of the blue light. After many impacts, he noticed her eyes and mouth parting slightly.
"Come on, Luna, hold on," said the boy with the scar, who had also seen his friend's faint response. But her eyes closed again.
After ten impacts, there was a pause, and Longbottom nervously indicated that her pulse hadn't increased. The nurse took a vial from her case, the necessary potion, and resumed the resuscitation from the beginning.
At the third spell, the girl gasped loudly, trying to breathe and opening her crystal-clear eyes briefly before seeming to lose consciousness again.
And that was as far as he was willing to endure:
"LUNA, HOLD ON!" Malfoy shouted, his voice booming across the Great Hall without thinking. He noticed the slight movement and realized he himself was starting to struggle for air. "You can't leave, come on, react!" He moved closer to the girl, noticing she was staring into nothingness, and helped Harry support her. "You're strong! Stronger than you think! YOU CAN'T GIVE UP NOW!"
They were words of encouragement, fueled by the fury built up after all that painful waiting.
A fourth sphere of light hit her, and Neville pointed out that her pulse was improving.
She was coming to, and with her healthy arm, she clung to Harry. The Gryffindor and the Slytherin lifted her, trying to keep her sitting up so she could drink the potion as soon as possible. Since she was partially paralyzed, it was a difficult process, so Mrs. Weasley intervened, while Draco kept talking to Lovegood, insisting that she not give up, comforting her as though they were alone in the Forbidden Forest again.
"Don't close your eyes, I'm here. You called me, and I'm not going to keep watching you like this. Everyone's here. Breathe..." It was as though he were scolding her, but deep inside, a mix of desperation and euphoria grew within him. Cold sweat began to form, and it wouldn't stop until the girl stopped coughing and said something. He took her hand with resolve. "Damn it, you're strong, Luna Lovegood, this won't defeat you." His tone softened as he tried to calm her with his words.
To everyone's surprise, Malfoy's words seemed to make the girl react, guiding her. She began to calm down and leaned into her healthy side, breathing more easily.
"By Merlin, it worked," the nurse said with a deep sigh once Luna had taken the potion in slow sips. She started testing the patient's reflexes and memory with Potter's help.
The others shared smiles and words of relief at seeing their friend stable. Meanwhile, Draco kept watching her motionless, feeling the weight on his heart ease as he watched the young girl breathe serenely, her curious eyes taking in her surroundings with amazement, as if she thought she had just returned from an incredible journey.
The Slytherin stepped back, feeling uncomfortable again, separating himself from the others, limiting himself to observing and processing what had just happened.
When the nurse left them alone again, after receiving heartfelt thanks from everyone present, the younger students moved closer to the girl, trying not to overwhelm her too much. She was now sitting, her right side supported by soft pillows as if she were in an armchair. After taking the new potion, it seemed the only thing weighing on her now was her shoulder. She tilted her head more comfortably, and her features relaxed, allowing her eyes to open more.
Luna eventually found Draco's gaze in the midst of the hugs, smiles, and confusion around her.
He wanted to say so many things to her but couldn't manage to utter a word; he felt so stupid. Although he also knew that Luna was more of an observer than a talker. But it bothered him to think about how the others would view the strange silence of the Slytherin at that moment.
Each person took turns saying something to her or showing a sign of relief. They hugged her slowly and stayed seated on the benches without overwhelming her.
"Such a scare, Luna," George Weasley commented.
"That damn Death Eater got away," Neville cursed.
"But what matters is that you're okay," Hermione added with a smile.
"It could have been much worse... but I'm here," the Ravenclaw spoke in a slow, deep voice after the healing. Even so, she still sounded sweet and peculiar, just as she was.
"Why are you always so absurdly optimistic?" thought the Slytherin, revealing a slight half-smile.
Although he was now keeping his distance, he could feel how the warmth was slowly returning to Luna.
"I'm sorry for giving you all a scare," the girl continued, "especially you, Harry."
"I'm the one who should be sorry, Luna. Everything happened so fast that I didn't have time to..."
"No one expected this. It's normal that you reacted that way," Ginny encouraged, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Now it's best for Luna to rest."
"We've agreed that it would be good for you to be transferred to St. Mungo's, just to be cautious," Mrs. Weasley commented.
"That's fine, I agree.
"Madame Pomfrey assured us that since you're fully conscious, the worst is over," Mr. Weasley informed. "We were unsure of how much the curse had affected you, and the nurse feared you might not survive the healing, but when we saw that the healers were taking so long and that you had gotten worse... Well, it worked. That's what matters."
"Ginny and the Weasley boys are so lucky to have you," Luna replied in gratitude.
"Luna, explain something to me," Harry intervened after a while, "did the curse make you have visions or something like that?"
"Well, I felt really overwhelmed when I got hit, I felt slight stabs, now it feels like a dragon is sitting on top of me... I'm like when you have a part of your body asleep. After that, everything was a long dream, where it seemed like I was wandering around Hogwarts, you were all there," she said, slowly pointing to her friends.
They all shared a look, thankful that Luna was still Luna.
The conversation continued for a while. At that point, everything had calmed down, and they decided that the best thing for Luna to recover on her way out of the school was for everyone to go back to doing something. The healers were already near the grounds. So, young Malfoy decided it was time for him to leave. The scene reminded him that his parents were waiting for news from him. Those present seemed to have forgotten about his presence once the young girl managed to speak. He started thinking that she had forgotten about him too, until, as if reading his thoughts, when everyone had scattered around her, she called him.
Although the others were standing, their confused glances never left them.
He took a deep breath, his expression meant to be unreadable and calm, and approached, standing next to the girl who was resting, watching him with a kind of fascination.
They began to say a lot of things without uttering a single word.
Regret returned to the boy's mind, bringing back the thoughts that had plagued him when he was leaving the castle with his parents. But seeing her more recovered lifted some of the heavy burden.
She didn't know if he would come to her call, but she simply had hope in him. And she wasn't disappointed.
He didn't know if she had heard his voice, wasn't sure if she knew it was him who had spoken to her when she was unconscious moments ago, nor was he sure if she had heard him in the heat of the battle. He had left her fighting with a masked Death Eater in a hallway and had yelled, "I'm sorry," as if that apology could fix everything that had happened. He never thought he would say it, but he needed to express it—not only from that battle in Hogwarts but since he found her confined in his mansion, since his Slytherin friends started mocking her after their visits to the forest, since, unintentionally, she became a very powerful person for him.
"I wanted to tell you that I forgive you," Luna whispered. "You were also in my dream."
The boy would never fully understand why she was able to shed that magic of reading his thoughts and analyzing his gestures in such a way. Nor why he allowed himself to be read like that. He associated it with the time they had spent together, but it still felt strange to him.
"I noticed."
"You were the one who spoke the loudest to me."
"Of course, it makes sense..." he tried to sound casual. "I didn't want you to get distracted, like always. Besides, when have we ever had a normal conversation?"
"That's true" she weakly laughed.
"Now it's better that you rest."
He once again forgot, for a moment, the stares that pierced his neck all around. And she felt even better after talking with all the people from her dream so closely; she felt strong and completely awake.
"You know that war isn't an end, right? Even though it seems like it."
He simply nodded. She had just taught him that.
"Maybe we'll meet again."
"Who knows, Lovegood? Now it's my turn to wake up completely."
And with a simple gesture, they said goodbye and went their separate ways, leaving the castle, each preparing in their own way for whatever the future held for them. Keeping the promise to learn from each other.
The End.