The Forgiving Sky

The Forgiving Sky

Draco Malfoy was in a bad mood. He hadn't had the chance to confront her at the end of fifth year, but he hadn't forgotten. No, he'd have to confront her about this. What did she think she was playing at?

He stormed into the Ravenclaw common room, muttering the password, "Metamorphic rocks," and looked around the dark room furiously.

The Ravenclaw Common room reminded him of the library. Thousands of bookcases towered over him and the fireplace sent a warm unearthly glow around the room.

There she was. Curled up in front of the fire, her head hidden in a large book. She was completely and utterly alone.

"Luna!" he bellowed.

She looked up. Well, actually the whole common room looked up but what did he care what a bunch of book worms thought of him? No, Luna was the only one that mattered right at that moment.

"We need to talk," he said briskly. Her eyebrows, though always high, rose a little higher but she gave a swift nod and led him up the stairs to her room.

She always walked like she was in a dream. Floating in a world of her own. Draco could never understand Luna Lovegood, and by Merlin, he had tried.

She paused at the doorway, leaving him brush past her and stand by her bed. Her pale blue eyes burned holes in him with her questioning gaze, but she did not speak. She was used to his tantrums and she had known he would confront her sometime.

"What did you think you were doing?" Draco raged. "Going on an adventure with Potter and the group? Don't you ever think, Luna? You could have been killed! I didn't even know you were friends!"

"Draco," she breathed.

"Luna, that was dangerous! You're in trouble now. All those Death Eaters know you now. They've seen you. My father saw you."

"I don't mind," she said calmly.

"You don't mind? When Voldemort takes over Hogwarts, you're going to be killed! And you don't mind?"

"Draco, please don't get mad."

"Don't get mad?! Of course, I'm going to get mad! You put my father into prison! You helped Potter! What kind of a friend are you?"

"Oh," she said still in her quiet voice. "So, we're friends, then?"

He froze, in mid-temper, to stare at her.

"You haven't talked to me in a long time, Draco," she said. "In a very long time."

Draco couldn't help noticing that she really wasn't ugly. If she brushed her hair more often and wore nicer clothes, she'd be quite pretty. But she was always so strange.

"Harry has been much nicer to me. Even after all his loses, he's still polite. And Ron. He's been nice to me too. They think I'm odd but they are always polite. Hermione is nice sometimes and Ginny is lovely. Ginny introduces me to her friends. You don't. You're mean."

She had a way of speaking. Simple. Like a six-year-old. Only her words affected Draco. More than anyone could ever realise.

"You're mean. You call me 'Loony Lovegood' in front of your friends. You act like I don't exist. I don't like that."

It was true. He hadn't been a good friend. After all she had done for him, after all they had gone through. But in school, it was so easy to forget about her. It was so easy to be cruel and cold all the time.

Luna and Draco had been friends since they were very small. Luna had moved across the street from him. His other neighbours had all been old and grey but Luna had been his age. She had been a strange little girl. She was pretty and giggly, but most definitely strange. Draco had liked her because he had been strange as well. The mischief they had got up to. Even his father had let Draco play with her because he had liked the fact that she was a Pureblood. Mr Malfoy had quite liked the girl because she had always treated him with great respect.

Then her mother had died; Luna had been so strong. Draco had been ten then and old enough to know that death was bad and if anything had happened to his parents he would have been devastated but Luna had been strong. She had believed that her mother was safe and watching.

She was always so full of strange ideas. She told him some of them when they used to sit at the pier. She used to tell him all about the stars too. It was only when he went to Hogwarts and learned astronomy that he learned that she had made up it all up. He had been sure "Mars" had been called "Pretty Girl" for so many years. The only star she had got right was the star named "Draco" but she had told him, they had named the star after him.

Staring at her now, he remembered another one of her stars.

"Father hit me today, Luna, and it hurt." Tears rolled down his face. He was not ashamed. She had seen him cry many times before.

They were sitting at their usual place, the pier. It was so close to their houses, yet always deserted. The fishermen only did their business at morning. Draco always felt when they sat here, that the world only consisted of Luna and himself. He wished it could be so but sadly it wasn't.

She enveloped him in a hug. She was so warm. He accepted her comfort, gloried in it. With Luna, he could be a nine-year-old child. She didn't want him to act cold and mature. He could be himself.

"Draco," she said, "no matter how much he hurts you, it's okay. Because he can never really hurt you. Pain is just another feeling. But love counter-acts pain. You can never really be hurt, if you love and are loved. And I love you, so you won't hurt."

It was another one of Luna's mad theories but Draco believed them like the gospel.

"See that star," Luna said, pointing out to a glinting star, "That's called 'The Heart.' And when people love 'The Heart' shines. You can't see 'The Heart' if you don't love. Can you see that star, Draco?"

He looked, wide-eyed, and could see the star. He turned to her and nodded importantly.

"See, so that means your father cannot hurt you. 'The Heart' is shining. You love and you are loved by me. So, whenever your father hurts you, think of 'The Heart' and you'll be okay."

He let her hug him again; his eyes fixed on the star. His father, if he were here, would tell him Luna was a lunatic. But she wasn't, because he could see 'The Heart' too. And his father wasn't here. It was just Luna and Draco.

"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry."

Her misty blue eyes bore into his for a full minute then she nodded and said, "That's okay, Draco."

She sat down, brushing aside the many editions of the Quibbler and asked him, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

He laughed. She was so forgiving. Strange, definitely.

He looked around her room. She was such a good artist. He had been in her room before, of course. He hadn't abandoned her totally. But he loved it. It was much more homely than his room, either at Hogwarts or at his home. For one, her ceiling was decorated like the starry sky. He could point out some of the stars himself but he only knew her names and not the proper ones.

On the wall by her bed was a dragon. Draco always thought it was too signify him. Because he had been such a big part of her life.

And then he remembered another time:

"Father says my name means Dragon in Latin," young Draco said.

She sat across from him, gazing up at the stars. "What else did he say?"

"He said that a dragon is a wild and vicious beast that can blow fire and that's why he named me after one." Draco's voice was not proud or smug, like one would presume. Instead it was laced with childish fear.

She was silent.

Draco turned to face her. He thought she had still been looking at the stars but she wasn't. Instead she was looking at him, searching his face with her pale probing eyes. "Luna," he asked, "Is that what I am? Is that what a Malfoy is?"

"Draco, there are different kinds of dragons. And some seem to breathe fire, yes, but just because one is able to breathe fire, doesn't mean one does it all the time. A dragon is not a beast. A dragon is a creature, just like a human is a creature. And if you are a dragon, than you must be able to fly. Can you fly, Draco?"

He snapped back to the present. She was watching him, silent as always. "I am sorry," he said earnestly.

"I know, Draco."

"I was worried, you know, when you went to the Department of Mysteries."

"I am okay," she told him gently. "I just wanted to help Harry and his friends. Because they were so nice to me."

He nodded. He understood her more than he had previously thought, because she really wasn't that complex. She was like a child. She believed what others couldn't. She didn't doubt naturally. She was gullible, innocent and yet she somehow came out smarter than the rest because of it. She had got herself in terrible trouble because people had been nice to her. She really was one of a kind.

"I want to make it up to you," he said. Not just for ignoring her. He wanted to make it up to her because of all the people that made fun of her because they didn't understand. All the people that hid her books and called her crazy. He wanted to make it up to her.

She looked at him, watchful and wondering.

He took her by the hand and led her out of her room. The Ravenclaw common room watched them with assessing and sniggering eyes. He did not care. Perhaps he had before but not anymore. Because Luna meant more than that to him.

He brought her out to the balcony. The wind was cool and blew in her hair, tangling it even more. She looked at him dreamily and then looked up at the stars.

"I am a Dragon," he said.

She looked at him, and if it had been anyone else, they would have been confused. Not Luna, though. Instead, she whispered, "Can you fly, Draco?"

"Yes," he told her, "I can fly."

They stood for a minute, gazing at each other, simply enjoying each other's company, and then Draco rose his hand with his wand and said, "Accio Broom."

His firebolt appeared; he hopped on. Luna, although he knew she had never flown before, followed him without hesitation.

Then he flew. She clung onto him, but she was not afraid. She was braver than the normal person was. He flew quickly but soon slowed down and asked her to tell him about the stars.

They floated in the air together, her hands circling his waist, as she told him about the 'Pretty Girl' and 'Draco' the star named after him. Then she told him about 'The Heart'.

"Can you see the star, Draco? Is it shining?"

He landed the broom in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. Then he gazed up, gazed up at the dark shining sky and said, "Yes. I can see the star."

"And why can you see the star, Draco?" she asked, in a voice hardly above a whisper.

It was just the two of them. Everyone else was inside, away, in practically a different world. He turned to face her, smiling and said, "Because I'm in love."

"And you are loved," she said gently. She looked down at his lips, still smiling.

He cast one glance up at the stars, promising to keep her safe and loved for the rest of her life.

And then he kissed her.

***