All Or Nothing

Chapter One. The Hardest Part of Leaving

Draco watched almost disinterestedly as servants rushed to and fro, trying to get his things packed for Hogwarts. He was sitting on the bed, legs dangling off the bed, elbow on knee and face in hand. A wide-mouthed yawn completed the picture. On the outside, he was the perfect picture of a spoiled little eleven-year boy who was totally unaffected by what was going on around him. On the inside, however...

He wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling. Not nervous, exactly, because he already knew most of his fellow Slytherins (and of course there was no doubt that he would become a Slytherin). He definitely wouldn't be homesick because there was hardly anything to miss here. His father was demanding and controlling and his mother was smothering. In truth, he knew what was holding him back from getting caught up in the excitement: Luna.

Luna, his one true friend, the only child that went beyond the exterior. Luna, who was his best friend and he her's. Luna, who he was leaving behind.

It was very much unlike him to have such strong feelings for a person, and one who wasn't quite normal at that. In fact, the only other person who elicited much emotion from him was his father, whom he was constantly intimidated by. His mother was simply tolerated. Miss Beth had long ago left the picture (and while he was never told why, there were rumors from the servants of an affair, though the how's and why's were still unclear), and he had only ever felt a fondness for her anyway.

But Luna was different, and in more ways than one. She was pureblood, yes, but that never made a difference one way or another to her. That was very different than what he had always been taught. She never judged him, yet she was never afraid to voice her opinion. He liked that about her.

However, Luna certainly was not a normal girl, by anybody's standards. She believed in things that he was pretty sure did not exist. And she honestly didn't care what anybody thought about her. She said whatever came out her, no matter how random they were. Nothing fazed her.

And he was leaving her. Leaving her to be with a bunch of snotty upshots that simply thought they were the best, him being the leader of them all. He would undoubtedly have a good time, though; after all, he wasn't exactly crying about leaving. Even though he and Luna were parting, to everything else in Draco's life, he could not see himself looking back.

Feeling to anxious to sit still, he leapt off the bed. He actually had no desire to be in this room anymore. He was starting to feel suffocated. As he passed the servants paid him no mind, still hurrying about. He scooted out the door and into the corridor, shutting the door behind him. Draco knew exactly where he was going; his playroom. It was where he spent the majority of his time. Of course, being eleven, he hadn't actually played with toys in there for years. However, he did have a variety of games that he loved to play there, and it was a great place to go to when he just needed to escape. Now, of course, was one of those times.

But when he walked in there was already somebody there waiting for him.

"Honestly, Luna, do you ever do anything right?" he asked but smiling nonetheless. He should not have been surprised, actually. Nothing she did should surprise him. And yet it did.

She looked up from the magazine she was reading in an armchair (his favorite armchair!). He knew without even looking that it that wacky tabloid her father printed. She read the thing religiously. She also sent him a copy every month just as faithfully, though he made no secret of trashing it every time. In fact, this month's issue was being used as the lining for his owl's cage.

"Surely you were expecting me," she said. It wasn't a question.

Draco shrugged. In truth, she always made him so uneasy with her insightfulness. Because although he hadn't been expecting her per say, he had been thinking about her. "I guess," he said in a non-committal way.

"I'll move," she said and sat in the chair next to his. He strode and sat down, and suddenly everything felt just right. Many days and nights they had spent in these chairs talking about everything from death (he was the first person she had come to when her mother died and, very awkwardly, he had let her cry on his shoulder; it was the only time she ever cried about it) to Knock-Kneed Whispons. And though it sounded horribly clichéd to Draco, he knew this was just a new chapter in their life. The end of the beginning, if you will. Sure, they would miss each other. But they could still write and they would always be friends. Loath as he was to admit it, he needed her.

Luna was looking at him. It was slightly creepy to have her gazing at him so intently like that. Finally, she asked, "What are you thinking?"

"Funny, because I was just wondering the same thing."

"So you were thinking about what I was thinking, while I was thinking about what you were thinking?" she asked, her eyebrows lifting.

Draco laughed. "Exactly. In other words, we were thinking about each other."

She laughed too. When she laughed, she did it with all abandon. It always made him laugh harder.

Finally, when they had calmed down, she asked, "I'll be thinking about you when you're away. Will you think of me too?"

"Of course I will. In fact, I'll even do you the honor of writing you letters. You'd better save them because one day you can say that you have letters from 'The Great Draco Malfoy' and they'll be worth loads of money. Remember that," he said, half joking with her.

"Yeah, I will," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously though, you have nothing to worry about. I couldn't forget you no matter how hard I tried."

"I'll take that as a compliment and hold you to it," she said loftily.

And so they sat, two best friends about to leave each other for a long time and trying to hold on to each other's companionship as long as they could.

Luna sighed. "I have to go. Dad will probably need help with dinner."

Draco wrinkled his aristocratic nose distastefully. "That's what cooks and servants are for."

"For you and your rich friends, maybe. But for the other half, we do things ourselves. You should try it one day."

"No, thanks."

"I thought so," she said and chuckled. She walked over to the fireplace and prepared to take a handful of Floo Powder. Suddenly, though, she stopped and threw her arms around him. Draco was so surprised that he staggered back a few steps and struggled to regain his balance. He was filled with some kind of emotion, he just wasn't sure which one. Maybe it was just a mix of all he was feeling, rolled together to make a new emotion.

Luna pulled back and he was astonished to see that it seemed like they were feeling the same thing, whatever the feeling may be.

"Godspeed," she said suddenly. Quickly she stuck her hand in the elaborate vase in the mantle, threw the powder into the roaring fire, and disappeared with a crackle.

He almost felt like laughing. Godspeed? Who said that in the twentieth century? Draco remarked on how weird his best friend was.

Nonetheless, as he was preparing to leave, he whispered a Godspeed of his own as he closed the door with a soft click.