AN: Ever since I wrote Harry and Luna's conversation in the coffee shop, I've wanted to explore what Luna had been on the verge of saying when Harry wondered when she'd learned tact. This is not what I had originally envisioned, but it is what happened to come out of my keyboard (while I was trying to finish a different companion fic)!

"Bartender! Another one."

"Ye seem down, laddie. Got somethin' on ye mind?"

He tosses back the shot before saying thickly, "Saw a picture of an old lover. Brought back memories."

The Bartender nods sympathetically, "Ah, the one that got away, is she?"

"He. His name is Harry." Another shot.

"Slow down lad, or I may be taking keys from you."

"Didn't drive here." Another shot.

"Are ye friends nearby to help ye home?"

"Don't have friends. Not really." The liquid burns on its way down, but he welcomes the feeling as he drinks his way to oblivion.

A young woman with long blonde hair and radish earrings watches the man from four bar stools away, surreptitiously listening with rapt attention as her former Hogwarts classmate continues to spill his story to the scruffy muggle man serving drinks.

"I don't make friends easy. Never really learned how. Childhood wasn't particularly ideal for such things," the man grunts out. "And forget dating. Can't stop thinking about him anyway."

The woman listens to him rant, rather curious. She'd long since learned to let go of any lingering emotions surrounding her time at Malfoy Manor and the Malfoy family in general, partly because she'd seen Malfoy's eyes when he'd brought food down to the dungeons. He'd been just as scared as she, perhaps even more so; she'd known they wouldn't kill her because they needed her to ensure her Father's good behavior. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, had no such guarantee.

"Hey now lad, I think you've had enough."

"Jus' one more," the man slurs.

"Do ye want me to call a taxi for ye?"

"I'll take him," Luna speaks up, surprising even herself. "I can take him home. He's an old…friend."

"Alright there lass. Have a good night now. Have some coffee in the morning now, ye hear?" he says to the man now drunkenly trying to stand from the bar stool.

Luna helps him outside. "Do I know you?" he asks, leaning heavily into her arm as she guides him to a nearby ally.

"You must be really drunk if you don't remember me," she observes. "Listen, I can apparate you home. Give me your address."

Malfoy slurs out an apartment number and Luna turns on the spot, concentrating carefully on the destination. They arrive inside a one-room flat that's sparsely furnished, and she can't help but look around in wonder. The spoiled little rich boy she'd known from school wouldn't have lived like this before the war. She brings Malfoy to his tiny bedroom and lays him as carefully as she can on the bed. "Thanks fo' bringin' me home," the man manages sleepily.

Luna looks at the man, curled up around a pillow. Something inside her stirs; perhaps it's pity, perhaps it's understanding, perhaps it's a mixture of both, but impulsively she reaches to gently tuck a blanket around Malfoy. "You're welcome," she says softly.

She leaves him lying there and walks out of the apartment before apprating home.

He wakes up with a headache. Grimacing, Draco reaches for the hangover potion he keeps in his nightstand for the rare occasions where such a thing is needed and swallows it quickly. Blinking as his senses return to him and he begins to feel better, he looks around the familiar room. How did he get home? He remembers going to the muggle bar, talking to the barman, but little else. He frowns. Getting out of bed, he walks out to the living room and reaches inside the potted plant on the living room coffee table, the one thing that appears to be the only decoration in the place. He pulls out what looks to be a small muggle camera. He'd magically modified one so that it started recording if someone other than himself entered using magical or muggle means. He selects the recording for the night before and presses play. "What the hell," he murmurs when he sees himself appear in the room, holding onto Luna Lovegood. She half carries him out of the line of sight of the camera, presumably to his bedroom. A few minutes later she leaves.

"Why would she help me?" he wonders aloud. Guilt bubbles up. His family had held her captive, for Merlin's sake! And he'd done nothing to help her. She had every right to hate him, and yet –

He shakes his head, marveling at how she had helped him home when she had no reason to do so. The world needs more people as forgiving as you, Luna Lovegood.

Luna waves goodbye to Harry and leaves the coffee shop smiling. It had been nice to talk with him. She misses her friends from Hogwarts; she loves traveling, searching for her elusive creatures, but she rarely has time anymore to visit with her old school mates. She shakes her head. She'd nearly mentioned that she'd seen Draco Malfoy only a few days earlier and that he clearly wasn't over Harry, but at the last minute had thought better of it; Harry hadn't seemed like the topic was something he wanted to discuss. At one time, this wouldn't have stopped her, but she'd spent enough time immersing herself in other cultures and learning how to act in other environments that tact came more naturally to her these days.

She skips merrily into her hotel room and gets to work packing; she's left it late this time, and her next expedition starts tomorrow. A tapping at the window startles her, and she turns to see an owl. She hurries to let it in. As soon as she takes the letter from its leg it hoots softly and takes off, quickly shooting out of the still open window. "Wait!" Luna cries, but it's too late.

Curious now, she opens the letter.

Miss Lovegood,

I have instructed the Gringotts goblins to transfer a rather large sum from my vault to yours. This in no way repays my debt to you, but it is all I have to give. Do what you will with it, but perhaps consider it my contribution to the search for whatever exotic creatures for which you are looking.

She frowns in thought. The letter isn't signed, and she hadn't recognized the owl. She reads the letter again. This in no way repays my debt to you. Who would feel indebted to her? She's helped a lot of people in her travels of the world, who would do such a thing for her?

At last, deciding she wouldn't be able to figure it out at the moment, she went back to packing.

"Luna! I didn't know you were back from your trip. How did it go?"

"Can you help me?"

"Of course," the other witch says, sounding slightly taken aback. Luna can't blame her; she'd showed up at her work and had been rather abrupt in asking the question, but this mystery had been in the back of her mind during the entire expedition and she wanted it solved.

"Is there a spell that can tell me who wrote this?" She holds out the anonymous letter.

The witch nods, her bushy hair bouncing. "Yes." She takes the parchment and murmurs a spell. A shudder seems to go through her and she closes her eyes, and Luna guesses that this particular spell must make some sort of odd sensation run though the casters' body.

Hermione opens her eyes. "Why did Draco Malfoy write you?" she asks curiously.

Luna feels a wave of shock. Unable to speak, she makes a gesture at the other girl. She understands, quickly opening the letter and scanning the words on the page. "He's changed quite a lot, since the war," she says quietly when finished.

"We all have changed," Luna says in the same tone.

Hermione slowly nods, her expression taking on a faraway look. "That we have."

She dances down the sidewalk, humming some popular muggle song that regularly plays on the radio station at the coffee shop she frequents. The people she passes by seem to stare at her, but she doesn't give them much thought until she bumps into someone standing in line at a small food cart. "I'm sorry," she says airily before recognizing the man. "Oh, hello Draco."

Draco stares at her for a moment and then gives her a cautious smile. "Hello…Luna. How are you?"

"Quite well, thanks." She flashes a bright grin.

Draco seems to hesitate a moment before saying quietly, "Thank you for helping me that night."

Luna nods knowingly. "You're quite welcome. Thank you for helping me in return."

The man looks shocked for a moment. He shuffles his feet, looking down. "How did you know it was me?" he asks in the same quiet tone.

Luna disregards his question, instead moving to touch his arm. He looks up at her, startled. "Tell him."

"I'm sorry?" He looks confused, his eyebrow rising in question.

"Tell Harry how you feel."

Draco looks at her, his mouth opening in shock. "How – how did you know?" he manages at last.

"I heard you – "

"That night at the bar," he finishes her sentence. He looks away. "We've been reconnecting lately," he says softly. "Getting to know each other again. I'm falling even deeper for him but I don't want to screw this up like I did last time."

"Tell him," Luna repeats.

"Hey you, you going to order or what?" the food cart vendor grumpily asks.

Draco turns to look at the burly man. "One hot dog, the works please," he says briskly. The vendor grunts in acknowledgement.

Once he's exchanged some muggle money for his hot dog, he turns back to Luna, but she's no longer there. Frowning, he looks around, but she's disappeared. He sighs and makes his way along the sidewalk, pondering her words. Tell him. Soon, he decides. Another few days and it will be exactly two months since they'd been meeting every morning at the coffee shop. Their – anniversary, for lack of a better word – would be the perfect time.

His heartbeat quickens as his thoughts race ahead, planning how to best to share his feelings.

~fin~