Be Careful
51: Who You Tell Your Story
By Anne B. Walsh
"Don't get cocky, boy," Macnair warned, pushing forward. "You've had your reward for Granger—"
"What's the matter, want her for yourself?" Draco gave the mustached Death Eater the contemptuous up-and-down look that worked so well on uppity first years. "Bit young for you, isn't she?"
"It's not what she's here for—"
"So what is she here for?" Draco looked back at Luna again. She returned his gaze levelly. "Pressure on her kook of a dad to quit writing that muck about Potter, right? I should think he'll stop all the sooner once he knows I'm taking her in hand."
"The Dark Lord left orders—"
"Not to put any more prisoners in the cellar," Draco interrupted in a bored tone. "So she doesn't go to the cellar, she goes to my room. Which we already know works just fine as a lockup, even against someone who's got a wand. She doesn't have hers anymore—at least I'd assume you lot aren't thick enough to let her keep it—and I'll be making sure she doesn't have any little surprises up her sleeves. Or anywhere else on her." He let his eye rove up and down Luna's figure, taking his time. "Personally."
"But—" Macnair started to bluster.
"Pardon me, gentlemen, but it was a long ride back from Hogwarts and I'm sure Miss Lovegood's tired," Draco cut in, using his best society tones. "Allow me to offer you the hospitality of our home, madam. If you'd be so good as to follow me."
He turned and bounded onto the stairs, dragging Luna behind him—
Though it's not really dragging when she's coming under her own power. Not as fast as I am, but I've got longer legs…
The thought of legs, his own and Luna's, went in several directions at once, none of them anything he'd ever have dared to say in front of his mother, one or two he'd even have been embarrassed to admit to Ray and his other dormmates. By the time he turned into the first floor hallway, his face was burning fit to light the way for him.
You're not going to do that with her, any of it, he reminded himself sternly. No matter what you told those imbeciles back there, you're doing this to protect her, to keep her out of Azkaban or anywhere worse. Like one of their beds. They'd do it, too, as long as they could prove they weren't any danger to her being able to have kids someday—
They started up the second staircase. Luna wasn't panting at all, Draco noticed absently, but of course the Ravenclaws lived in a tower like the Gryffindors did, so stairs must be second nature to her.
She's not fighting. This impressed itself upon him suddenly as they neared the top of the stairs. She squirmed a bit at first, but since we got out of sight she hasn't even twisted her wrist. Weasley'd have me bleeding by now, and Granger would be burning a hole in the back of my head with her eyes, or possibly with my wand. But Luna—
He resisted the urge to glance back at her once more. Have to get her safe first. Get us both safe. Then I can explain. Not far now. His bedroom was halfway down this hall, and he'd learned a useful little spell from the book Potter had stashed in the Room of Hiding that should keep them from being overheard. Ten more steps—five—two—
Draco shoved his own door open and flung Luna inside, sending her sprawling facedown across the bed. "Get used to that position," he said loudly, stepping into the room after her. "You'll be using it a lot."
Luna lifted her head and half-turned, looking at him through a curtain of hair without speaking.
Maybe a bit too much, even for the sake of verisimilitude… but too late now. Have to go on from where I am.
Draco slammed the door and locked it both with his wand and with the Manor's magic, then sent a burst of that same magic to infuse the window, setting a charm on it similar to one Ray had told him about. If anyone tried to spy on him through it, they would see precisely what they expected to see.
Whatever that may be. And considering the favorite pastimes of some of the people around here, I'm not sure I want to know.
A quick "Muffliato!" around the room made Luna's eyes widen more, and he wondered if Potter had taught it to her, or to someone else who had. She was sitting up now, stroking her hair back into place, watching him with curiosity but without fear. Her robes were torn and dirtied, and of her usual pair, only the left radish was in evidence. He wondered if that was an accident or not.
Sounds like an opening line to me.
"You're missing an earring."
She touched her right ear. "Yes, I know. It fell out when they caught me in the toilet on the train."
"You never made it home, then." Draco slid his wand away.
"No. Daddy will be worried about me." Luna drew her feet up onto the bed and crossed her legs. "More worried, when he hears what they say about who I'm with."
"Yeah." He put his back to the door and slid down it into a seat on the floor, staring at one of the bottom bedposts where it met the boards. "About that. I haven't actually dragged you up here to rape you or anything."
"I know."
He jerked his head up to meet her eyes. She was smiling. "You do?"
She nodded. "You made them all think that, just like you've made everyone at school think you hate us and enjoy hurting us. But no one you push down in the hall before their detentions can feel the curses people use on them, and I found the password to Professor Snape's office in one of my books the day you first stole my bag, and you weren't with the other Slytherins when they sneaked out to try to do something to Neville and Ginny and me when we had detention with Hagrid in the Forest. What were they going to do?"
"Try and get you eaten by acromantulas," Draco said automatically, most of his mind still whirling. She noticed about the Painless Potion—God, I hope no one else has, I could get in so much trouble for interfering with detentions—
"I wouldn't have liked that much." Luna began untangling a knot in her hair. "Daddy would have been upset about it too. Thank you for stopping them."
"You're welcome—wait, how did you know—"
"And you even came out with us to make sure it worked," Luna continued as if Draco hadn't spoken. "How did you get transfigured without forgetting who you were? Was it a potion?"
"No, it's an amulet, my mum gave it to me—I'd show you, but it's only got one more use and I think I might need it for something else—" Draco cut himself off forcibly. "Hold on a second. Are you telling me you knew that mongoose was me?"
"All I knew to start with was that you weren't just an animal." The knot came undone. Luna moved a few strands back to another. "You could have been a Somnius, like I told Hagrid about, or a cappie—they're a bit like jarveys, but they only speak in languages that aren't the same as the one the humans speak in their country. But then you talked to me, and I recognized your voice."
"I—you—" She had seemed to be answering his chittered comments, Draco recalled dimly. He had put it down to lucky guesses, but now that he thought about it, she'd been spookily accurate. "How did you hear me? I wasn't speaking aloud—I can't speak aloud when I'm transformed—"
Luna worked her fingers out of her hair and pulled up her left sleeve. Several small puncture scars marred the inside of her left forearm, grouped in a crescent-shaped curve. "I got this when I was nine," she said, tracing it with a finger. "My mum was working on a new kind of scrying spell, and her bowl exploded. She pushed me down on the floor to try to protect me, but I got hit a little anyway. She got hit worse. It's how she died. But there was some of the potion she'd been using to scry on the shards that hit me—"
"And it got into your blood," Draco finished, recognizing the story. "So now you're a Seer, more or less."
Luna nodded. "I sometimes know things about people that they don't even know about themselves," she said. "It doesn't always work, but it did for you. I knew as soon as I saw you on the train that you had changed. That you didn't think about me the same way you had before, or about anything." She looked up, and her eyes caught Draco's as they had after the Opening Feast. "Why have you changed? What happened to you in between the Astronomy Tower and coming back to school?"
Draco opened his mouth, then closed it again. I thought I'd be spending at least an hour convincing her I wasn't going to hurt her—I was so sure she'd be afraid of me, or at least uneasy around me, after everything I've done to her—
But no. She skips right over all that, accepts that I've changed without a qualm, and wants to know why. What am I going to tell her? I don't think "I've seen the error of my ways" will fly, but the truth is just a little bit unbelievable—
He looked again at the girl sitting cross-legged on his bed.
And since when has a story being unbelievable ever stopped Luna Lovegood from believing it? She might just be the only person alive today who'll take this whole bloody thing at face value. And let's face it, I could use a friend like that on this side of the worlds.
I could use a friend on this side of the worlds, full stop.
Might as well start at the beginning, then…
"I made a wish," he said.
Nearly an hour and a half later, Draco stood at the window, gazing out over the snow-covered grounds. He could see Luna's reflection in the glass; the blonde Ravenclaw was listening to him with her head tilted to one side, as though she were considering the truth of his words.
"…came through the door and saw you with them," he finished, picking up the cup of water he'd got from the bathroom around the time he'd started talking about Pirates and draining it. "And I knew I had to move fast, because they wouldn't keep you down in our cellars after the escape, so that meant you must have just been brought here as a waypoint, and they'd take you away again if I didn't grab you first…"
And I'm babbling. Control, Draco, control.
"So that's my story." Draco set the cup down on the inside sill of his window. "You're right. I have changed. I hope it's for the better. But one thing's sure." He focused on a spot at the sill's corner where the paint was starting to peel. "I'm through with hurting people for fun. So you don't have to be afraid of me." Kneeling down, he peered more closely at the spot, hoping his flaming cheeks weren't too apparent. "I won't do anything… inappropriate."
A moment of silence. Then bedsprings squeaked, and soft footsteps crossed the floor behind him. A hand touched his sleeve, fastened on it, pulled gently, bringing him around in an awkward shuffle.
Luna smiled down at him and pushed against his shoulder. Startled, Draco half-fell out of his upright kneeling pose, landing on one hip. Luna sat down on his legs, pinning him where he was, and matter-of-factly placed his arms on her shoulders, then slid her own around his neck.
"Not even if I want you to?" she breathed, and leaned forward.
Draco retained precisely enough presence of mind to tilt his head to accommodate her angle of attack, and to have one fully coherent thought.
I guess she believes me.
Then he lost himself in her lips, and her arms, and the soft fall of her hair over his hands, and the way she laid her face against his chest every time they broke off to hold one another close.
If this is what being lost is like, may no one ever find me…