By the Moonlight...

A cat was mewling, somewhere far away. She paid little attention to the sound, looking at the clear night sky, mesmerized by the moon. A perfect, round disk as pale as her cream complexion, yet, brighter than the sun stood there, surrounded by small, twinkling dots. It never failed to amaze her, this bewitching night sky. Humming a slow song, she walked into the woods, leaving Hagrid's hut behind her. My hut. It is my hut now. She slowed down her pace once she reached the path she knew so well. Letting her humming cease until it was nothing but a whisper, she sat down on the ground, not caring about the growing herbs that tickled her bare feet. She whistled once, softly, as her hand moved to touch her necklace, almost as if by its own accord.

A few moments later, a Thestral appeared. It slowly approached the young woman resting upon the grass, only to run away a few seconds later. Shivering, the woman got up slowly. Looking towards the exit of the forest, she saw him. A tall figure was standing there, long, blonde hair surrounding his pale face. She frantically tried to find her wand; Lucius Malfoy was supposed to have denounced his past actions and regretted joining the Death Eaters but she still would rather not be in the forest alone with him, especially unarmed. However, her wand was nowhere to be found; she must have dropped it on the ground when she sat. The figure moved a little closer, the moon lighting his face a little, and she realized her mistake. This was not Lucius Malfoy. He had the same long, faded blonde hair the former death-eater sported but his face was wrinkle - free, his lips fuller than the senior Malfoy had ever had - his features more elegant. She instantly recognized her former classmate, Draco Malfoy.

He slowly walked towards her like a cat approaching its prey. "What could possibly drive you into the Forbidden Forest in this unholy hour, Lovegood?"

"I would ask the same question, Malfoy," she whispered, not sure if she should stay or run. He sneered.

"Let me guess... You're celebrating the demise of the Dark Lord exactly where it happened, aren't you? Perhaps you were about throwing off what little clothing you have on and start dancing ritual dances around the trees? If that is the case, don't let me disturb you. By any means, continue." She had never liked the spoiled brat, but now she was furious with him. Finally finding her wand she took firm hold of it and stood up, wishing every single Sluag against him. She walked towards him, since he blocked the only exit of the Forest, marched quickly past him and took the path to the hut. "Running away, Lovegood? Why, could you possibly be afraid of me?"

"Let's just say that I don't enjoy your company very much - shall we, Malfoy?" That would be an understandment. She sighed in relief when he made no move to prevent her from leaving, only to have him grabbing her right arm seconds later. "Just leave me be, Malfoy." For a second, it looked like he was going to let her go. His expression changed, however, to one of pure mockery.

"I don't recall you telling me to leave you be a year ago, this same night," he whispered.

Of course. He had to mention this incident somehow. He wasn't named a spoiled jerk for no reason. In spite of her trying to push them away, memories filled her up. Herself. Standing in these same woods in a grey dress, exactly a year ago, having run away from the celebrations. Finding him here, bare-chested, his Dark Mark still visible on his left forearm. She was taken by the sight of him, wearing only grey pants, walking towards the Dangerous Forest. She still couldn't understand why she hadn't been able to take her eyes off of him. After all, he wasn't handsome, or at least she didn't think him to be. He was too pale; his features were too severe and delicate, having an almost feminine quality about them. He wasn't muscled, although she supposed he was prettier than he had been at school. But his long, silver hair, falling down his back like silk was calling for her to touch it. So, she had walked towards him, mesmerized by his cold, grey eyes. He had looked up at her, and sneered. "Come here, Lovegood," he had whispered. She, the willing prey, had obediently approached him.

She willed the memories away, looking at this monster -her one night lover- standing in front of her, his fingers still grabbing her arm. His expression changed yet again; it was almost pensive now. "You know, had you not muttered some nonsense about Nargle-mating seasons and the sidhe being most active by the twilight - sia, you called it - I would think it was merely a succubus I was mating with; not the lunatic Lovegood. When I woke up alone in this forest I was not sure if I had not merely been dreaming." He was speaking as if stating a random fact, his tone conversational; he could have very well been pointing out that the weather was chilly rather than mentioning the night she had lost her virginity; to him, no less.

"Look, Malfoy, I'd really enjoy to have a recollection of nice old times with you had I not been so busy. As it is, however, I'm afraid I have to leave. So, be so kind as to release my arm." He made no move to comply with her order; instead, his fingers tightened around her now aching arm. Damn you, Malfoy. I'll probably have bruises tomorrow. "You're pathetic at ordering me around, you know. So, I think not, Loony. You see, I have a question." He sat down, forcing her to imitate him.

"I would not sit here, if I were you," she made a try at his earlier conversational tone. "The place is almost certain to be infected with Acromantula flees; they are particularly drawn to blond males." Though, if you were to be infected I'd probably have a nice laugh- they are particularly vicious. He looked at her like she had just grown a second head.

"You really are lunatic." An exasperated sigh made its way through her lips.

"The fact that you are too narrow-minded to accept the existence of something you are not able to see does not make me lunatic. It just proves that I, contrary to you, have faith," she retorted, all the while wondering why she took the trouble of even talking to him. It wasn't likely that he'd ever see further than the obvious; actually it was impossible. Almost impossible, her mind corrected her. Nothing's impossible. Even the most seemingly crazy prospects carry a sperm of possibility. Be careful, don't turn out like him. He did not answer immediately; instead, he sneered.

"You know, Lovegood, believing in fairytales is useless."

"As opposed to believing in Voldemort's ideals?"

She should not have said this. His face hardened instantly - its previous mocking quality seemed almost pleasant compared to this. It was more reassuring, at least. "Make no mistake, Lovegood, I stopped believing in him as soon as I had a conscious mind. Some of his purposes suited me, that's all. Do not assume that I could believe in something or someone else other than myself - or that I would die even for my own beliefs."

"Oh, I know you have no faith, Malfoy. Now, I believe we both could do without each other's company."

"As I said, I have a question to ask you."

"Be quick about it, then. I have been following a shimmering spitfire for days- I'd hate to lose track of it now because I couldn't get up early in the morning."

"I'll have the good sense not to ask you what a shimmering spitfire is, since I doubt it's anything that actually exists. So, Lovegood, I need to know why."

"Why what, Malfoy? Why I'm still here, tolerating you? I thought I had no choice, given your grip on my hand, and the fact that this day of the year one should not be using harmful magic. However, some non-harmful magic can be especially useful at such situations. One can endure a tickling charm for so long, you see."

"Why you were here last year, Lovegood? Why you threw yourself at me?" Her nonchalant expression faltered slightly.

"The reason I was here is none of your business. I did not throw myself at you- if I recall correctly I was leaving when you begged me t o stay. And I'd rather not discuss any more about this."

"Well, that's a pity, because I want to; and I'm not above using harmful magic at Voldemort's demise anniversary. Why did you stay when I told you to? You weren't under the Imperius curse; that much is sure." She twitched, clearly unwilling to continue this conversation. "Answer me, Lovegood!"

"No, I was not under the Imperius curse. I have no idea why I stayed-perhaps I was a bit drunk." It was a lie. She was completely sober that night; but Luna was not above telling lies-after all she was not a Gryffindor, no matter how many Gryffindor traits she possessed.

"You were not drunk, Luna." Smirking at the shivers that ran through her body at his mention of her name, he kept on talking. "So, what was it? Were you just scratching an itch? Had you a schoolgirl crush on me? Had you been daydreaming about me all this time? Why did you stay, Lovegood? And why did you leave before I had woken up?" he added before he could stop himself.

"I told you Malfoy, I do not know why I stayed. You know all your possible answers to this question are foolish and unrealistic- perhaps you ought to ask yourself why you begged me to stay in the first place. As about why I left, I had to feed the Thestrals; and I was not in the mood to face your charming morning manners and reaction- whatever it would have been. Your question turned out to be questions and yet, I've answered all of them at the best of my ability. Let me go, Draco."

He was extremely surprised by hearing his name on her lips - she had only said, or better screamed his name a year ago, when he had been pounding in her hard and fast and... He chose to let that line of thought go, since his reaction to it was not one that would allow the woman in his arms to keep her foolish oath not to use harmful magic in this day; and he'd rather not have this forbidden harmful magic targeted at one particular part of his body - he intended to father a heir to the Malfoy line one day, after all. He only realised that in his surprise he had let her go when she stood and turned to leave. His reaction was nothing he had anticipated or could control. "Don't. Please, Luna, stay."

And just like last time, she could not resist. While her mind was screaming for her to leave, her traitorous feet moved completely on their own accord, taking this only step that separated her from his still sitting body. He stood up, and placed his hands firmly on her waist. She still couldn't bring herself to disengage her eyes from his, she still couldn't move, like a little creature hypnotised by a serpent's hypnotic gaze. She didn't even think why I am doing this; she just stood there, looking at him, waiting for his touch to enervate her. He cupped her cheek and it was almost gentle, and the spell was broken for Draco Malfoy was not gentle, and this simple gesture was so unlike him that she regained her conscious mind and disengaged herself from his arms, running towards the exit of the forest and her hut like hell had broken loose and all its demons were after her. No, not all its demons. Just one of them and still I can't bring myself to refuse him.

She was soon in her hut, having secured the door and warded the tiny construction; though she doubted that anyone could get past the Thestrals without her permission. She wasn't even sure whether she was grateful or sorry for the sudden consciousness that made her leave. Saved by fate? Then why does it feel that I have been crushed down and denied heaven? All she knew was that, somehow, she had wanted this to happen, she had wanted Malfoy inside her again, thrusting so hard that she wouldn't be able to sit properly after, branding her in his own, unique way. It must be my self - destructive instincts that push me to him. Surprisingly, she was able to sleep soon after she had arrived home.

When she woke up, it was still dark. A look at her enchanted ceiling was enough to confirm that she couldn't have slept for more than half an hour; the stars had barely moved from their former places.

She got up, intending to have a glass of water before going back to sleep. Her feet, however, carried her out of her home and into the Forbidden Forest. What was more alarming, however, was the fact that she only realised it when she stood above

his sleeping form. It was a wonder that he was such a heavy sleeper; one would expect him to be at least this much affected by what he had gone through the war -but he was not, she knew from her previous experience with him. Actually, the only lingering trait from the war seemed to be his Mark, faded but still there, on his left forearm.

Luna, on her part, could also not claim to have been drastically affected by the war. She had always been a light sleeper and the experiences she had gone through her captivity at the Malfoy Manor had let her unmarked- she was a pureblood and thus, mostly left alone. Perhaps the time she had spent there could be held accountable for her current behaviour: Malfoy had sometime descended to their prison, looking so frail and broken, almost haunted, that she couldn't help but feel pity for her former classmate. Even his occasional results had been anorexic, as if they had meant little to him.

Still staring at his sleeping body, she did the only thing that seemed natural, even correct. She lied next to him and he instantly cuddled her, fitting the curves of her body into his own, murmuring incomprehensible words in her ear, still sleeping. She felt herself drifting to slumber once more. It seems that I will lose track of the shimmering spitfire, after all.