AN: So, hi. This story started out differently, in my mind, but then I saw a Luna/Draco ship picture, and well... this is what happened. ANYWAYS. I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: Sadly enough, I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, the movies would be six hours each.
The House tables had been removed from the Great Hall for the welcome back party held for the older students. People were moving about, visiting the friends they hadn't seen for the last two months and downing their drinks as the band moved onto yet another song. Draco Malfoy was seated at the impromptu bar, a shot glass filled with Firewhiskey before him. His head rested tiredly on his hand as he stared at the liquid. Grey eyes saw not the drink, though, but instead the appallingly snakelike deathly pale face that was his master's. The Slytherin's task pounded steadily in his mind, in tune with his heartbeat. He couldn't think about it anymore, needed something, anything to bury the terror with, and so he reached for the glass in front of him, downing the liquid in one gulp. Leaving a searing trail, it ran smoothly down his throat, tears springing to his eyes at the burning. The discomfort quickly faded, replaced by the numbness the boy had been searching for and a cold grin grew on the blonde's face as he reached for another glass.
"What are you staring at Luna?" Harry asked as he followed her gaze. "Malfoy? That loathsome prat. I know the resemblance to a ferret is uncanny to say the least, but he's really not that much too look at,"
"Ferrets are animals Harry. Draco is human," Luna spoke as though explaining something to a small child. "Besides, he seems rather sad,"
"And? It's Malfoy, who gives a bloody fuck?"
"I do," Harry sighed as the Ravenclaw walked away from him, slightly bouncing as she made her way across the floor.
Luna skipped over to where Draco was seated. He turned to her with the infamous sneer upon his face.
"What do you want, Lovegood?" He demanded roughly as he downed the rest of his glass.
"What's wrong?" She asked quietly, complete innocence lacing her voice.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Draco snorted. "I've no doubt the Potter git sent you over here," The girl's head tilted slightly in confusion.
"No, I came over myself. You've seemed rather distracted this evening, I was wondering if the Nargles were bothering you,"
"Nargles? What the bleeding hell... I'm fine thank you, now kindly leave," Draco spat the words with the intention of venom, but the now three glasses of Firewhiskey slurred them terribly and it came out rather pathetically.
"Tell me what's wrong first," He rolled his eyes and glared at her.
"Whh -whyyy on earth would I talk to you more than absolute neca – neca -necessary? You're simply going to relay anything I say back to Potter and his merry band of do-gooders,"
"No I'm not," She said simply, catching his eye. Stunned by the intensity of her silvery-blue gaze, he went silent. "Please tell me why you're so sad?" The complete honesty in her words, coupled with the effects of his drinks, made his eyes glisten once again.
The Slytherin's head shook sadly and his voice was thick with unshed tears "Not here,"
She placed her hand over his where it sat on the counter. Luna stood, bringing the rather pathetic lad with her, out of the great hall. Draco remained silent as he followed her through the school. They stopped in a hallway on the third floor, where Luna paced three times before a door appeared on the wall. The room was small, a light blue and green loveseat placed in front of a small silver fireplace, from which the only light was emitted. Luna sat gracefully on the couch, and gazed expectantly to where he was still standing by the door.
"Now will you tell me?" She asked quietly. Draco stood silently for a moment. What was there to tell her? That he was a Death Eater? That the black and green skull and snake was now forever imprinted into his forearm? That the Dark Lord was now his master? He began laughing at the absolute ridiculousness of the possibility of revealing his secrets. The blonde's body shook with the sound as he wrapped his arms around himself, doubling over in hilarity. He fell to his knees, silence taking the place of laughter as he ran out of air.
"I can't," He choked out.
"But why not?" Grey eyes met blue as the now silent laughter stopped.
"Because,"
"That's not a very good answer,"
"And?"
"Draco, let me help you," The way she said his name, the fact that she hadn't used his surname, the care and kindness that laced the word, is what started tears anew, but they were fuelled by sadness rather than hilarity.
"I can't tell anyone. It's solely my task" As the weight of his words hit him, the tears came faster and faster. His hands rubbed angrily at his eyes, doing his best wipe away the warm salt water. Father would be ashamed. Suddenly, thin arms were wrapping around him, pulling him into a gentle embrace. A hand rubbed soothing circles into his back as the tears of frustration and terror slowly came to a stop. They stood in the embrace for a moment, the Slytherin's head resting on the Ravenclaw's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," He said finally, pulling away from the girl.
"Why are you apologizing? You're allowed to cry. It's not a sin,"
"I'm not worried about sinning. I've done and will be doing plenty of that," Her head tilted slightly, allowing her hair to fall from her shoulder and hand like a white curtain.
He studied her for a moment. She was clad in a black blouse and black tight-fitting jeans, both accentuating her figure nicely, a red knit beret set on her head. Her eyes had dark liner around them, and a rather smoky color on the lids. Little Loony Lovegood was hot. Draco gulped as his male teenage hormones cause his blood to rush a little faster. She threw him a little half smile, and he moved slowly, letting the testosterone that was ever present in his system take the lead. He leaned into her, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her into him. He kissed her lightly at first, testing the waters so to speak. When her lips began to move against his, he pulled her harder against him, the planes of her body pressed to his. Arms moved their way around his neck and one hand tangled itself in his hair. Draco slowly moved his mouth from hers, trailing it down her jawbone and neck before nibbling softly at the exposed skin of her collarbone. A contented sigh issued from her, and he smiled when she hitched her right leg around his hip. Spurred on by another sigh, he lifted her other leg around him and pushed her back against the wall. A giggle escaped Luna's lips, and Draco was positive it was due to the fact that this new position made her... feel... just exactly how much he was enjoying himself. What? He was a teenage boy who had a girl, a very attractive girl in fact, pressed up against a wall and who was using her apparently very skilled lips to trace his collarbone. Draco shuddered when he felt her teeth dig gently into his neck, no doubt marking him, but suddenly pull away. Blue eyes, clouded with desire that he was sure was reflected in his grey ones gazed heavily at him.
"I don't want to take advantage of you," Her voice was husky, but sarcasm was not in it.
"You? Innocent little Luna Lovegood taking advantage of Draco Malfoy? I believe you're mistaken, should it not be worrying about taking advantage of you? Worrying about ruining your virtue?" She giggled again.
"And I think it's you is mistaken, Draco, I may not be as innocent as I seem," She said mysteriously. He arched an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"I did date Neville, you know. And Ginny and I..." She trailed off. He was intrigued by this.
"Ginny? As in Weasley? She's a... wait, you... with a girl?" Heavenly images filled his head. After all, the Weaslette was rather attractive, though he'd never admit it.
"Just... experiments. It was fun, but, I prefer boys... and... maybe I've had my eye on one for a while," Draco was floored. He obviously knew nothing about Luna, who he was immediately intrigued with the moment he saw her. But, he never would have told anyone that, he could imagine the mockery he would be subjected to if anyone found out he liked Luna Lovegood, the strange little Ravenclaw. A devilish smile appeared on her face and Draco shot her with the most Malfoy-like smirk he could find before leaning back into her and letting his hands find the buttons of her blouse. While he removed the offending fabric, he heard his own shirt tear. Well, apparently the woman knew exactly what she wanted, and he was more than happy to give it to her.
The wall was quite useful, for a round at least. When they were both able to focus again, at least partially, they found a bed in the corner of the room.
Ah, the Room of Requirement. Always giving students exactly what they required.
There was not a mention of anyone's virtue again in that room that night.
"Well...umm. Thanks for coming with me Cormac, see you in class tomorrow I guess," I said awkwardly. He grinned mischievously at my words.
"What, don't I get a kiss?" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. This was the exact reason I had been avoiding the pompous git all night. I sighed, and pecked him lightly on the cheek. "Come on Hermione, you can do better than that," He said, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me towards him before crushing my lips with a hard kiss and forcing my lips open. I resisted, pushing against his chest, and he stopped, backing away slightly but not releasing me. I raised my hand and slapped him with all the force I could muster. His eyes flashed in anger when I did so, and he tightened his grip on my shoulders, shoving me into a nearby broom closet, before forcing me into the embrace again.
"Cormac- stop, you're hurting me,"
"You want this to. You know you do. Stop fighting it," I didn't want it. I hated the way he was pressed up against me, his tongue rolling around in my mouth, the way he smelled, everything.
"No, let go of me," He backed away for a moment, still holding me against the wall.
"You're such a tease. Leading me on all night, and now you're going to deny me? I don't think so," He removed one hand from my shoulder, moving to undo his pants. I attempted to escape, ducking under the arm that was still pushed against me, lunging for the door, but he grabbed my hair, pulling me back and slamming me into the wall. I heard the crack of my ribs as his elbow connected with my chest. He drew his wand from his robes, summoning ropes that wound themselves around my wrist, forcing my hands in the hair, before rendering me unable to move my feet and He went back to the task of his pants, pulling down them and his boxers, revealing himself, before pulling my dress over my head and proceeding to fondle me. I cringed at every touch, helpless to do anything but attempt to turn away from his hands. He ripped my underwear and forced my legs open with his knees, before pounding himself into me. It was incredible pain, him ripping into me so savagely. I whimpered at each thrust, but didn't scream for fear of him breaking another rib, or worse. I attempted to focus on something, anything else, anywhere that was not this broom closet, anyone who was not him, but it was impossible. The overpowering smell of him surrounded me, along with the more familiar scents of sex and sweat. He began to groan, and thrusted into me even more ferociously. I prayed that it was almost over, that it was a bad dream and I would wake up to Parvati shaking me, saying I was running late. Finally, he gave one last guttural groan, and forced himself even deeper into me, before collapsing against me. He leaned on me for a few moments, before pulling away and beginning to put his clothes again, while looking my body up and down. I was completely exposed to him, every inch of me available for him to see.
"You're just a filthy little whore, you had it coming, you deserved this, you wanted it. You can tell your friends about us if you want to, then they'll all know you for what you are; a dirty slut," He said finally. I didn't want to believe what he was saying, but he was right. I had been the one to ask him to the party, in an attempt to make Ron jealous, I had flirted with him, hadn't I? I couldn't tell anyone, they would hate me, they would know me for a whore. I nodded weakly, and a smirk crossed his face. He undid the ropes with his wand, throwing my clothing at me. "Put them on. No one would want to see your body, you should be glad that I was willing to ignore it," I nodded again as I silently obeyed him, slipping back into my dress. I winced as I lifted my arms, I was going to be bruised horribly. "Go back to your room," He commanded as he slammed the closet door behind him. I wanted to burst out crying, breakdown and fall to the floor, but the tears wouldn't come, so I exited the closet and walked slowly down the hallway, and up the staircases to the common room. I prayed that everyone had gone to bed, I knew I was in a state. Thankfully, no one was there, and I snuck up into my dormitory quietly. I slid into the bathroom and locked the door, before looking at my face. My lips were swollen, bleeding, my hair was a mess around my face. I slowly removed my dress –avoiding looking at my naked body in the mirror- and turned on the shower, hoping that the hot water could melt away all traces of him on my body. I could already see a bruise forming on my chest, my legs were sore, not even taking into account the terrible pain between them. I used all of my soap, trying to wash him away. I stood in the shower, letting the warm water fall over me, and then I saw my razor sitting in the corner. I grabbed it, breaking the head off. I held it gingerly to my wrist, and made a small slice. Red instantly began flowing out of the cut, it felt as though the blood was my hurt, my anger, my pain. I made another cut, then another, relishing in the sting, the red liquid that surrounded my feet. Flashes of the broom closet ran through my mind, his breath hot on my neck, his smell, all of it, and I finally was able to cry. The tears ran hot down my face, falling onto my arm and mixing with the blood. I sat on the bottom of the shower, watching the blood slowly flow out of my arm, then stop. My tears stopped, as well, and the water went cold. I lifted myself up, turning off the taps and stepping out. I quickly used what charms I knew to heal my wounds, apart from my wrist. I wanted the scars to be there in the morning, the one pain I had control of. I put on a baggy t-shirt and old sweatpants before throwing my dress out the window, setting fire to it as it fell. Finally, I went back into the dormitory and fell into my bed. Though I was exhausted, it took hours for sleep to take me, and the sleep I did have was filled with nightmares. When I awoke, I looked at my wrist, four bright-red cuts stood out against the cream of my skin. My fingers ran down them ever so lightly, feeling the slightly raised definitions. I sighed, and pulled myself out of bed to face a day which seemed impossible.