Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: The characters in here are Luna and Draco. If you want
this could be a romantic pairing, but I wrote it as, well, not even friendship.
More like them being the only ones who can understand each other. Thanks to
PirateQueen for beta-ing.
Very few people
could incur the wrath of the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale. It just so
happened that he was one of them, though ‘live’ was not the word he would use.
It wasn’t living when you had to look over your shoulder for fear of meeting
your end, with a single flash of green light if you were lucky. There were
worse fates if you were not.
Professor Snape was really the only one who could
possible understand the mess he was living in, and so knew that the best thing
for him was to be by himself and sort everything out.
Before setting off on his glorious quest to
destroy the Dark Lord’s soul, Potter had testified at Draco’s trial, stating
that the had only gotten the Mark to save his and his family’s life. Just like,
thanks to a left-behind Pensieve, he stated that everything Snape had done was
on the orders and specific wishes of Dumbledore.
Draco had curled his lip in a sneer at this
typical example of Gryffindor idiocy, before receiving his pardon. At least
Potter hadn’t been fool enough to expect any thanks.
Seventh year was hell. Those who had been
his…group, if not his friends, turned their back for fear of attracting the
Dark Lord’s displeasure. Those who did not like him and never had, looked at
him with mistrust and slight fear. The only thing that kept them from putting
him in the Hospital Wing on a permanent basis was the fact that the
Boy-Who-Lived had spoken for him, however curtly.
He found himself, more and more, sitting in the
Astronomy Tower, watching the stars outside. He took comfort in the fact that
at least something in this was world was unchanging; unlike everything else he
had known. His life had turned upside down, and he felt as if he were
desperately clinging to what he wanted to be the floor but had all of a sudden
become the ceiling.
That was the first time she came up to join him;
silently, without so much as a whisper, she sat beside him and turned her face
up to the stars. He looked at her with his head cocked to one side, but she
gave no explanation. That was all right with him. He didn’t feel like talking.
It was only after the fourth night she had sat
with him that he asked her why she came, why she visited the boy that the rest
of the school desperately tried to forget even existed. Still, she said nothing.
She just scooted closer to him and ducked her head so a loose piece of hair
floated down to settle on his shoulder, as if to say, we blondes should stay
“I suppose that’s as good a reason as the next,” he murmured,
and traced the constellations in the sky with his fingers. He wondered why he
had never noticed her before, even to taunt her. She certainly lent herself to
taunting, being easily the most eccentric person in the castle. He finally came
to the conclusion that she was the sort of person that, unless she came to you,
you would never notice.
Night after night, week after week, they sat
there, looking at the stars in the blue-black sky. They rarely spoke, to each
other or to anyone else who came there.
She was quite easily the strangest person he had
ever met. She kept her wand behind her ear, and stared at him with
disconcertingly wide blue eyes as if it was the natural thing to do, and he was
the odd one for not following suit. At times he thought he could understand
her, just a bit, but he always fell slightly short.
And then one night, abruptly, the world shifted.
Everything turned right side up again; the kaleidoscope sharpened clearer and
clearer, and he found himself seeing for the first time.
No one else understood them. No one else
understood their need for something unchanging, unchanging like the stars,
unchanging like their unspoken nighttime meetings that always happened. Others
pointed whenever they ventured up to the Astronomy Tower, as if they were some
sort of tourist attraction.
“…two of them sit there every night!”
“…never speak at all, they just sit…”
“…always knew she was loony, but looks like he’s
cracked as well!”
It didn’t matter, though. He knew there was
nothing wrong with them. They were just the only sane ones in their world, and
everyone else’s vision was too clouded to see it.