Disclaimer: Not mine. But I wish a pair this wonderful was. Don't sue.
Unwritten
by Crzyangelchic
Summer.
Summer could've held many promises for Draco—if he'd let it. This summer celebrated the Malfoy's name being back in the top of society since the death of his father and the fall of the empire of the Dark Lord eight years ago. Summer also hoisted news of the big engagement of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. The Parkinson estate, though not as powerful as Malfoy's in the older days, still held a strong position in society. The unity of these two estates was an anticipated one. And yet, it was happening sooner than Draco ever planned.
Draco always knew he was to marry Pansy, and vice versa. Pansy had felt that was reason to attach herself to him as soon as possible, and it had annoyed Draco to no ends during Hogwarts. He felt if he had no choice but to spend the rest of his life with Pansy, he shouldn't have to see so much of her early on. After all, he had until his 34th birthday to take a wife before he would lose his inheritance. However, the War had been bad, and many of its top supporters (mostly the Slytherin families) took a big fall along with The Dark Lord. Along with the stress of the death of his father, Draco was expected to step into place as primary share holder for the entire Malfoy estate. But Draco had been badly hurt himself and haunted by all that had been the War. He disappeared for two years after his father's death while everyone was still recovering from the War. At first it had gone unnoticed by much of the media, as everyone dealt with the repercussions of the War, but once the papers had news of his disappearance, that story was all that was printed. A search had been ordered for Draco, as some people were afraid that he had an evil plan extending from the end of the War. That brought some of the hardest years of Draco's life, but when he finally came back (having avoided the media and aurors), he saw that all his responsibilities and Malfoy Manor was still waiting for him.
After years of working to clear his name—handing money over to the right people, making the right connections, and granting various favors—he was able to reassert himself in society. Part of that reassertion included stabilizing his household and that meant pushing up his marriage to Pansy. Draco scowled into his goblet of champagne. This Mid-Summer Festival was not only to celebrate the Malfoy's reclaiming of its place in society, but also to congratulate the bride and groom-to-be. The actual engagement ball was to be held at the beginning of autumn, and was something Draco dreaded day by day.
Draco came back from his dark thoughts when an arm was slipped into the crook of his and he leaned down in time for the obligatory peck on his mother cheek. Narcissa Malfoy stood regally before him, not looking a decade older than his own fiancée. She wore a summer dress of Sapphire blue and gems of the same name.
"Darling," she drawled in a tone that took away from the endearment. Her eyes expressed her displeasure, "you mustn't leave your wife to mingle alone in the party—"
"She's not my wife yet, mother."
He couldn't help himself. He was not up for this party and the many congratulations he would get for his engagement.
Narcissa smiled politely, though her eyes were now laced with anger. "She very soon will be, Draco, and had you not already shamed our family, you may have been able to put off this unhappy arrangement," she hissed. Narcissa, as her son already knew, hated the Parkinsons. She squeezed his arm in concealed frustration as she led him towards his fiancée, who was currently engaged in conversation with business friends of the late Malfoy. "But since you had disappeared, disowning and shaming your father's name, my darling, you have to accept responsibility for your …mishaps… and make our humble Malfoy name something to be proud of again, yes? And so today you must court your wife and adore her and—hello, Pansy! It seems I have found your husband scurrying around here somewhere."
They all enjoyed a very hearty and fake laugh, including Draco, who chose to put on his polite party face instead of scowling at his mother's use of the word "husband". He extracted himself from his mother and took his fiancée's hand to lay a gentle kiss there.
"And you, Pansy, will forgive me, of course, for merely stepping back inside to get you this…"
He reached into his pearl white, cotton robes to pull out the jewel case he knew contained a charming, ruby bracelet. Pansy played the thankful fiancée beautifully and once his mother had thrown him one last look of warning and left, he excused himself from the business patrons and Pansy and wondered off again.
Pansy's presence still bothered him. And although the wedding date had been moved up a decade or so he still didn't feel he needed to spend much time with Pansy until absolutely necessary. He couldn't deny she was gorgeous, but galleons could make that happen. She stood out among the other witches there, for her dress was the brightest, the most flowing, and the most flattering. It was a festive mango-orange, to match Draco's own orange under-vest. He didn't feel very festive, though. He delved into his thoughts again, and before he knew it, he had turned into the garden enclosure. It stood no different from when he was a young boy, housing tall plants and hedges—beautiful, exotic tall plants and immaculately trimmed hedges, but nothing seemed change. That was his life, nothing changed. They had lost the whole bloody war, all that Draco had ever learned from his father and fellow Death Eaters, and yet it seemed nothing changed. He was owner to one of the most powerful estates in England, he was going to marry Pansy Parkinson, and he was—unfulfilled.
Before the last dreadful word could enter his head, Draco had already started taking out a cigarette. It was more or less his dirty secret. His cronies, Crabbe and Goyle smoked too, actually, but Draco was supposed to be above that, above them. He lit the cigarette anyway and took a deep drag, lavishing in the thrill of doing something he knew he shouldn't do. Wasn't that what had been his whole life? Doing things in secret? Knowing things normal wizards his age didn't know? The whole idea of it calmed him.
Until a shadow stepped in front of him and a flash exploded, followed by a shutter noise.
The blinding light faded to show a young witch lowering a camera and a picture began to slide out. The witch caught the photograph just as Draco lunged forward.
"Give me that" Draco demanded. The cigarette tasted foul in his mouth now and he angrily tossed it on the ground and squashed it into the grass with his boot.
The witch kept her distance. "Hello, Draco." She said pleasantly, ignoring his command. "Those are really bad for you, you know. They attract Jotinspree's for one. And they can cause a fire."
The statement caught him off guard. Draco took his eyes from the incriminating photograph and finally took a good look at the witch. She was wearing a clash of colors, bright and repelling. Her tied-dyed top and yellow skirt made her petite form seem even more childish and ridiculous. Draco couldn't believe he had been caught smoking by someone so unimportant.
"Who invited you?" Draco questioned with genuine interest. He would have to be more selective with his guest list the next time. He blamed his fiancé who had insisted they invite half of London.
The witch gave a dazzling smile and held out a hand for a shake. "I'm with The Quibbler, Mr. Malfoy. I'm Luna Lovegood, top executive reporter."
He gave her hand a withering glare. Damn reporters, Draco thought viciously. He has been very suspicious about the media since his issue with them nearly 6 years ago when he had disappeared. He took another look at the photograph still in her hand. Though he knew few people took The Quibbler's stories seriously, something like his smoking could make big trouble for him. Especially now that he was trying to rebuild his name.
"Whatever," he said at last. "No reporters are allowed at this function. Now give me that photograph."
"Oh, but I can't," she stated sincerely. "I need them all."
"All?" Draco asked, disturbed. "How many—doesn't matter." He was still too close to the party to hex her and make it look like an accident. He gave her a seething look. "Ms. Lovegood, you took that picture on private property at a function in which you were excluded as a guest and now you must leave the premises. Without the picture. Now give it to me."
Luna stood looking at him for a long time. Draco felt stupid waiting for this obviously low-class witch to answer him. Her whole demeanor was very child-like and annoying. Yet this distraction did take away from the boredom that was overcoming him from just hosting this awful event.
He was just starting to decide to take out another cig and to screw whatever the witch did with her camera when she responded softly, "Did you used to play Hide-and-Seek here?" She gave a slight nod behind him to the garden.
Draco stared incredulously at her. Anger washed over him and one side of him ordered him to stop wasting time and have his men take her away. Or hex her regardless of the people yards away.
"Listen, lady, I'm not in the mood for your foolishness. I have a festival to get back to—"
"And to Pansy, too, of course," she added. "Do you think she'd like to play Hide-and-Seek as well?"
"That's ridiculous. How old are you—10? Give me the damned pic—"
"I know you're not happy Draco," Luna cut in again. Her protuberant eyes went wide and glossy and reminded Draco of someone on the Cannabis potion. "Neither you nor Pansy…maybe you do need to go run around in the gardens for a while. Come, let's play. I'll hide first."
Quick as ever, Draco pulled out his wand.
"Accio photograph."
Draco let a slow, smug smile spread across his face as the picture flew out of her hands and into his. He was almost sad to see the little witch bested so easily. He glanced lazily down at the picture and his eyes met the most horrifying of sights. He let out a yelp and the picture slipped out of his hand and landed face down on the grass.
"Good Merlin, woman! What have you been snapping?" Draco rubbed at his eyes as if he could some how scour out the image of his old school teacher, Professor Snape, doing unspeakable things in the Slytherin bathroom with a jar of body cream and massaging potion.
He looked back at Luna to see her lip tilt up in a sneaky smile. She picked up the photograph and Draco had no doubt she did not see the same image he did.
"You charmed that…" he accused coldly. Though his eyes promised revenged, he was actually somewhat impressed. Maybe she wasn't as dimwitted as her behavior suggested after all. This could be interesting.
Before he could say more, Luna rushed passed him into the garden, yelling over her shoulders, "You have to count to 50 Merlins before you find me!"
Draco considered letting her run around wildly in his garden enclosure. But as he watched her retreating back, feeling the sun beat softly against his head, the breeze blowing around the swirls of his robes and bending the tall flowers of the garden, he had a change of mind.
"Damnit all."
He hitched his wand back into his pocket and without a look back at his guests, charged full speed into the tall flowers and hedges.
It didn't take him long to catch up to her. Her blonde hair flew behind her like a golden flag and he grabbed a hold of its tendrils with one hand and reached around her waist with the other. The result was for her to trip over her sandals and land, face up, with Draco falling on top of her.
As she tried to catch her breath, for she had been laughing joyfully as she fell, he grabbed the picture and ripped it into tiny pieces, letting the wind spread them around the garden.
He knelt straddling her laughing form, caught between leaning down to strangle her or leaning down to…, well… he decided not to investigate why he suddenly had thoughts of kissing her. He chalked it up to the fact that he hadn't gone running through the gardens since he really was about 10 years old and now she was lying there laughing at him with a knowing gleam in her eye and he had no idea what to do. Her laughter eventually faded but her protuberant grey eyes remained laced with mirth.
He still straddled her, breathing hard, and trying desperately to understand these feelings that kept trying to surface. The garden enclosure cocooned them in a blanket of perfumed flowers and shaded sunlight. He felt light-headed and drunk off some potion. Now he felt like he too was using that Cannabis potion.
Oh why the hell not, he thought roguishly. He looked down at her supine form, responding in accusatory tones.
"You didn't wait for me to start counting."
Luna's eyes went even bigger than they normally looked as Draco Malfoy started to laugh. His voice rang out across the flowers and hedges. He laughed so hard his sides hurt and his eyes watered. It was that kind of laughter—the hard to stop, on the brink of hysteria, almost inappropriate kind of laughter, but some part of him was happy to hear Luna joining in.
He sat back on his hunches and she got up to kneel beside him. She leaned in close to whisper, her lips barely grazing his ear.
"Your turn."
And then immediately there was another voice.
"Draco? Draco is that you laughing in there? What are you doing?"
The voice was a far while away at the edge of the garden enclosure where the two gamers inside had forgotten there was a whole party of people.
Draco felt a jerk where his navel was at his fiancé's voice, like a recalling back to the present. For Draco really had been transported back to a time when he could play Hide-and-Seek. But Draco was not 10 years old; he was 25 years old and owner to one of the most powerful estates in England. And had more on his plate than a run through a garden enclosure could solve.
"You have to go, huh?"
Luna's solemn voice brought him out of his reverie. He was admittedly sad to see her childish enchantment gone. He just barely stopped himself from reaching up to stroke a strand of her hair, which he'd noticed was as golden and bright as the rest of her outfit today. It reminded him of the sunlight that was trying desperately to shine through the leaves of the enclosure but couldn't quite reach them. Just as Luna's light would probably never reach him.
Draco took one last look at her, taking in her vibrant shirt, her messy windswept hair and camera. Then he got up, took out his wand and ran it over his robes, making them pearly white again. He even felt older just by doing that. And now a little colder too, as if Luna's light was literally leaving his body.
She got up too, the dirt clinging to her legs and skirt, but she paid it no mind. She readied the camera to take a picture, momentarily concealing her face. Draco leaned forward, giving into temptation to touch her after all, as he tucked her hair away from her cheek and placed a small kiss in its place. Luna didn't release her stance, and Draco didn't look back as he made his way back out towards the back estate of the Malfoy Manor. He didn't hear the click of the shutter as she took one last picture. He headed back into the sunlight, to his world of beautiful people, parties, and false intentions. It had never seemed enough, and now a simple game of Hide-and-Seek held more value to him than all the persons present at the party.
Pansy caught sight of him immediately. Her outfit too was bright, in a tasteful way, but the light didn't quite reach her eyes.
"There you are," she said with a gorgeously fake smile. "You wouldn't have wanted everyone to think I could not hold on to my husband, now would you?"
Draco smiled graciously, taking his fiancé's hand and leading her back toward the merry people of the party.
A/N: What do you think? Please review:)
A/N: So there is the long awaited companion piece to Release Inhibitions. Ok, so maybe it wasn't long awaited, but I've always wanted to write that same scene from Draco's point of view. So here's Draco's story. His version goes into more detail and I think I will continue this story, using his version as the first chapter. I've already started writing the rest. And if you want to read the same scene from Luna's POV, Release Inhibitions,check out my profile.