I do not own Luna, Draco, or any other characters, I just love them. Here's the fic: read and review!
Draco is not in love with Luna Lovegood.
He does not love the way she stretches and yawns after she has been sitting for too long. He does not love the way her earrings bounce against her face as she waltzes herself around the room. He most certainly does not love the way she laughs when he stares at her across the room.
Maybe it's her eyes.
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"Why do you read that silly magazine?" he asks her once.
She peers over the top and he sees the eyes that he thinks he (maybe) loves. "Well, I like it," she said vaguely. "Don't you ever like to imagine these sorts of things are real?"
He steals it off her bedside table and spends hours reading it.
She smiles next time she sees him. "Was I right?" she asks.
She was.
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She dances to silent music and he watches from the doorway. Her hands touch invisible hips and necks and her feet are light as she moves.
He slides into the room and watches the fire in the fireplace grow old and die.
"May I have this dance?" he asks, offering his hand.
She presses her fingers to his palm and smiles. "Why certainly, good sir," she says politely. Her voice is high and airy. He can hardly tell if he means anything by accepting, but then, he doesn't know if he means anything by offering.
But anyway, she lets her face rest in his neck, and when he touches her hair it is soft and smooth.
He is not in love with her.
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She has nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.
He is legally an adult, after all, and he can make his own decisions.
"Which side are you going to be on?" he asks once. "In the war?"
She sighs vaguely. "Why, I'll be with Harry Potter, of course," she says, sounding more matter-of-fact than he has ever heard her. "And what about you?"
He hates himself as he answers, because he should not be so weak, and he should not let her do this to him. "I'll be with you, of course," he replies.
She kisses him, then, and he distantly wishes that he could have made the first move.
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She sleeps one of two ways:
The first is stretched out all across the bed, arms and legs extended, hair fanned out behind her face. She reminds him of some Roman goddess, exquisite and beautiful and dangerous to touch.
The second is curled up beside him, arms around his torso and head buried in his shoulder. Then she reminds him of himself, too small and far too scared and almost but not quite entirely alone.
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He thinks it's ridiculous that he is still so insecure.
"Luna," he asks. "Do you love me?"
She laughs and touches his face. "Of course, you silly boy," she says. "What do you think I've been telling you all along?"
He laughs and kisses her and tastes cranberries. "I love you too, Luna," he promises fervently. "I have forever. Well," he adds. "At least, your eyes."
Well, you managaed to read the whole thing, so why not spend a few more seconds and review. Even if you just say "lfdmgl," it's good to know people are reading. Besides, if you review, I'll give you chocolate! If that's not incentive enough, I don't know what possibly is.