Luna Lovegood wasn’t your typical Ravenclaw.

She was intelligent, that was for sure, and she could recite spells and potions ingredients and facts like nobody’s business. But that didn’t change the fact that for a Ravenclaw, she was just a little bit … odd. In fact, one could even venture to say that she was downright illogical, which was entirely out of line for a Ravenclaw.

For instance, tonight when everyone else was in their respective Common Rooms, chatting by the fireplace or playing Exploding Snap, Luna was ambling along the corridors, looking for signs of the Nargle infestation that her father had written to warn her about. She was wearing a belt fashioned out of Hawthorne leaves to protect herself from the Nargles and she was carrying a small vial of Dragonsvine nectar (which she’d collected herself from the Forbidden Forest) to get rid of the Nargles. It would be her good deed for the day.

She’d just turned the corner onto the Charms corridor when she heard voices. Curious, she ventured closer until she could just make out what they were saying. One of the voices was extremely familiar.

“Give it to me!”

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you to say ‘please’?”

“Malfoy, I’m warning you…”

“What’re you going to do, recite bad love poetry at me? I consider myself warned.”

“I’m not above making you scream like a girl, Malfoy.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Aaarrghhh!”

There was a thump, and Luna peered into one of the classrooms to see Draco Malfoy on the floor, looking decidedly rumpled (for once) and her good friend Ginny Weasley sitting atop him, skirt spread around her, one hand clutching her wand.

They were staring at each other with some intensity. Luna actually felt the temperature in the room go up by a few degrees. Ah. She saw how it was. So this was why Ginny was always stomping around and ranting about ‘Malfoy this’ and ‘Malfoy that’. This was one of those things. Luna smiled to herself.

“Hello, Ginny, Malfoy,” she greeted, nodding at them placidly, as if she hadn’t just witnessed the stunner of the century.

“Luna!” Ginny sprang off Draco, who stood up slowly, brushing imaginary lint off his clothes.

“I’ll thank you not to jump me in the future, Weasley.”

“You wish, Malfoy.”

Luna realised – too late – that if she had not greeted them, things might have progressed quite differently. “Oh, don’t let me interrupt; I just wanted to say hello. Carry on, please.”

“What are you talking about?”

“No, I insist. I’ll just be on my way. You were about to make some progression in the way of relieving your repressed sexual tension, I believe.”



~



Draco had heard many strange things in his life. However, none (not even when Goyle had confessed that he and Millicent had been secretly shagging for months) seemed to rival the words that were coming out of Loony Lovegood at the moment. Him? The Weaselette? Sexual tension? The idea was so ludicrous that he would have laughed out loud if not for the fact that he had been stunned into silence.

Draco had never had feelings for the Weaselette other than those of hate. Sure, it was hate that was fuelled by their respective parents’ animosity, but it was sincere nonetheless. Her hair was an awful garish red, they were dirt-poor and they did lack class. Beyond that, the Weaselette herself was a typical Gryffindor – loud, annoying and self-righteous. She also had quite the backbone (a trait he grudgingly respected, though he wouldn’t admit it, even if a wand were pointed to his neck).

“Luna!” Ginny sounded horrified. “You can’t be serious.”

Draco was certain that he looked equally horrified. “You’re touched in the head.” He turned to Ginny, who, being accustomed to defending Luna from people who cast aspersions on her sanity, had made a noise of protest. “Do you disagree?” His mouth widened into something which might be called a smile. “Did you think we were about to relieve some of that ‘repressed sexual tension’?

Ginny glared. “That’s disgusting, Malfoy. I’d have to be Imperiused before I’d touch you with a ten-foot pole.” She turned to Luna. “How can you possibly think that I have any sort of feelings for him?”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that plenty of girls do,” Draco told Ginny indignantly. “Though I wouldn’t expect a Weasley to have taste,” he added, bristling at her look of disdain. How could the Weaslette speak of him as if he were dirt off her shoe? He was a Malfoy and she a mere Weasley! “In any case, you can be certain that I have absolutely no interest in the Weasel,” he told Luna.

“Oh, that’s what you say,” Luna said knowingly, “but there clearly is some unresolved sexual tension going on here.”

“You’re nutters,” Draco told her.

“That’s what everyone tells me all the time. But what I really am is right,” Luna corrected triumphantly, smiling benignly at Draco and Ginny, who were eying each other with unconcealed hostility.

Clearly, there was some serious denial going on here.

But she knew better. There was something there.

Something would have to be done.



~



As Ginny and Luna walked back to their respective common rooms (which went along the same route for some part of the way), Ginny was aware of Luna’s eyes on her. She resolutely ignored the Ravenclaw until she saw the small, secretive smile playing at the corner of Luna’s lips, which always spelt trouble.

Ginny felt it necessary to clear things up. “Luna, what you saw was completely the result of an accident. The stupid git took my wand, and I fell onto him while trying to get it back. That’s all.” After their Prefect’s meeting she’d absentmindedly left her wand behind and had to go back to get it. With her luck, Malfoy had been the only one left and had pocketed it. She had lost her balance while trying to get it back. Why was Luna making such a big deal out of nothing?

“That may have been the case,” Luna allowed, “but what happened after is what’s interesting.”

“Nothing happened after that! You said hi, and he removed his grubby hands from me.” Granted, there may have been a slight pause after she had found herself sitting astride him, but that was clearly attributable to shock, and absolutely not anything like attraction or sexual tension or something equally ludicrous.

“And what if I hadn’t showed up? Think you’d be in a broom closet now?”

“I’d be stuffing him into a broom closet, more like,” Ginny said darkly.

So Malfoy had looked kind of good with his hair all mussed and collar out of place when she’d accidentally fallen onto him. Not to mention that he had nice broad shoulders that she’d never noticed before. And that his eyes were quite lovely. But these discoveries didn’t change anything. She wasn’t one of those shallow girls who fell for guys based solely on looks.

“In any case,” Ginny continued, “you can stop with all this speculation. You of all people know how much I hate Malfoy.”

“Tsk. Hate is strong word, Gin,” Luna warned. “And from what I saw, something was definitely up, if you know what I mean.”

“Huh—ohh! Luna, that’s disgusting!”

“I was joking,” Luna said with a grin. “But you did look perfectly content sitting on him,” she continued with a little eyebrow wiggle.

“Luna, how can you possibly think I like Malfoy? He’s arrogant and rude and a total pain in the butt.”

“Yes, but I was just thinking on it, and he fits all the things you like in a boy – he’s tall, he’s got a nice chest, nice intense eyes…”

Yes, Ginny had noticed. She’d also noticed that up close, Malfoy’s lashes were very long – extremely long for a boy; quite unfair really – and that he smelt faintly of peppermint, but there was no need for Luna to know that. “You mean all the physical things.”

Luna shrugged. “That’s half the battle.”

Ginny made a noise of exasperation. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t even consider Malfoy a boy, to be honest. He’s just … Malfoy. His personality stinks.”

“Really? How would you know? Have you talked to him? Have the two of you had long, deep, secret conversations with him that you haven’t mentioned?” Luna asked archly.

“Luna.” Ginny rolled her eyes at how ridiculous her friend was being. “I don’t need to have a conversation with him to know what he’s like. Don’t forget, he’s made my life a living hell the past six years.”

“But—”

“Ohh, I’ve got to turn here. See you tomorrow, Lu!”

With that, Ginny hopped onto a moving staircase, glad to get away from her friend. Luna was often coming up with one harebrained scheme or another, but this one had to take the cake. She and Malfoy? Pfft. It would never happen in a million years.



~

Ginny Weasley was not a morning person. Generally she was seen dragging her feet down to the Great Hall right around the time when breakfast was ending, muttering to herself and snapping at anyone who dared wish her a good morning. This morning was no exception. Coupled with the fact that she’d had to do her Prefect’s rounds the night before until 3am (no thanks to Mr Head Boy), she was in an exceptionally bad mood.

That was why, when said Head Boy told her to ‘kindly look in the mirror, no wonder you can’t get Potter’, she did not coolly tell him to get a life as she normally would (it wasn’t a sore spot as she had got over Harry an age ago). Instead, she didn’t hesitate to fling back a few choice insults about his suspiciously meticulous grooming habits and probable sexual preferences (she had crafted them before and saved them for times when her mind wasn’t functioning properly, like right then).

Before long, it had escalated into full-blown mud-slinging, involving incidents dredged up from years past (the ferret incident and the Valentine incident being favourites), and people were seen ducking behind pillars and taking alternative routes to avoid being drawn into the fray.

Luna Lovegood, with her usual detached air, walked right into the fray. “There, there,” she said, placing a placating hand on each of them. “No one else is here now; you can drop the act.”

This was a strange enough pronouncement to cause the sparring duo to stop in their tracks and stare.

“What in Merlin’s name…” Draco muttered. He could tell it was going to be another one of those days.

“Luna,” Ginny demanded, “is this about the ‘unresolved sexual tension’ again? Because if it is, I swear—”

“You know, I think we need to have a nice bit of chat. I’ll go get some tea and cookies, and you can just talk.” Luna winked exaggeratedly at Draco, who in return gaped at her with unabashed horror. After the incident on Friday (during which the Weasel had nearly knocked him out cold), he had thought that had been the end of that, but the loopy blonde was apparently thicker than Hogwarts, A History.

Ginny looked ready to redirect her temper. “Luna, breakfast is nearly over and we have to go for Charms right after.”

“Later, then.”

“That’s besides the point. There is no unresolved sexual tension. Malfoy and I hate each other. End of story.”

“Denial is a river in Egypt, Gin,” Luna said, wagging a finger at her and regarding her with large, solemn eyes. “It doesn’t belong in Hogwarts.”

“Look,” Draco interjected, although he would dearly have loved to see the Weaselette lose her temper with her friend (which, by his astute calculation, would have happened extremely soon), “I can understand if the Weasel is secretly besotted with me, or something. It happens all the time. But you can be absolutely certain that I, for one, have never looked at her with anything other than unbridled dislike and no small amount of pity and condescension. No offence, of course,” he added, smirking at Ginny.

“None taken,” Ginny replied, rolling her eyes. “Frankly, I’d be more worried if you had any other feelings towards me.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Weasel.”

“You won’t even try?” Luna asked, turning her large blue eyes on them.

Ginny huffed, while Malfoy stared back at her, unblinking. “I’ve got a class to get to,” he said after a moment, and strode away.

Fine. Clearly, Malfoy was too besotted with Ginny to fall prey to Luna’s beguiling big eyes. And Ginny, well, Ginny was just being Ginny, i.e. stubborn as a hippogriff. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two were just trying to postpone the inevitable, stubborn dunderheads that they were. She would just have to take matters into her own hand.

“Luna, you’ve got to stop with this ‘unresolved tension’ thing; it’s ridiculous!” Ginny exploded after Draco had left.

“This is just like the time with the thestrals!” Luna exclaimed. “People always tell me I’m being ridiculous. But then people always refuse to see what’s staring them in the face,” she added pointedly. “Don’t you agree?”

“This is different! Malfoy and I… it’s an impossibility. Like… Filch and Madam Pince,” she said, her tongue alighting on possibly the two most incompatible people in Hogwarts. Just thinking about them together made her stomach curl.

Luna looked doubtful. “You know, I saw them the other day—”

“Nope, I don’t think I want to hear anything about it,” Ginny interjected, slapping her hands over her ears to avoid being scarred for life.

Trying to convince Luna was like trying to coax a dragon to take a bath. Ginny thought about the time Luna had insisted on dancing naked on the Quidditch pitch at midnight on the Summer Solstice. And the time Luna was convinced that Terry Boot was a vampire. And the time Luna tried to petition for the inclusion of Nargles in their Care of Magical Creatures syllabus. In all those cases, Ginny had given up persuading her friend to drop the matter after a while and had left her to her own devices. But then those instances didn’t personally involve her. This time, though, she was just going to have to try a little harder.



~



“I think the little blonde girl is stalking you,” Blaise Zabini observed with a touch of envy as he and Draco left the library on a cold Thursday night to see Luna hovering by the door for the fourth time that week.

Draco repressed a groan. He had entertained Luna the first time, but after it had become clear that her object was to ‘counsel’ him about his ‘repressed emotions’, he had begun ignoring her, hoping she would eventually give up. After all, didn’t she have anything better to do than follow him around and annoy him? As it turned out, she didn’t.

“Malfoy charm and all that,” Draco muttered to Blaise in explanation. It was best not to tell Blaise what was going on. He’d probably find the whole thing a hoot and give Loony all sorts of ‘helpful’ tips. The thought of Loony and Blaise working together to ‘counsel’ him sent a shudder through his body.

“Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” he told Blaise.

After making sure that Blaise had turned the corner, Draco turned furiously to Luna. “Lovegood, what is it this time? And if you say one word about Ginny Weasley, I’ll dock points off Ravenclaw.”

“Why, I just wanted to inform you that Professor Flitwick was looking for you. However, since you mentioned Ginny—” here she smiled, and Draco was suddenly hideously aware that she probably wasn’t the vacant little girl everyone thought she was “—I think we need to have a little talk about her, don’t you?”

“For the last time, there’s nothing between the Weasel and I!” Draco exclaimed furiously. “Give it up, Lovegood, it’ll never happen.”

Draco stalked off, but Luna’s airy voice chased him down the corridor. “You know, Father always tells me that I’m extremely persistent when it comes to things I believe in. If I fail, I try again and again and again…”



~



Ginny was walking along a corridor when someone grabbed her and pulled her into an empty classroom. She opened her mouth to scream, but the aggressor had apparently thought to cover her mouth as well.

She reached for her wand, just as the aggressor spun her around to face him, and she found herself face to face with Malfoy.

“Weasel,” Draco greeted cordially, as if he hadn’t just scared the living daylights out of her.

“Malfoy! What do you think you’re doing!”

“Well, I needed to speak to you about something,” he said, smirking at her discomposure.

“And you thought the best way was to kidnap me? Why don’t you just look for me at lunch, like a normal person?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I have a reputation to maintain. I can’t be seen strutting up to a Weasley for a little chat. In fact, I can’t be seen talking to you except by way of insult.”

“Like that wasn’t an insult,” Ginny muttered darkly, pocketing her wand. “Anyway, next time just send me an owl or something. I don’t really fancy this whole cloak-and-dagger thing. You probably shortened my lifespan by ten years.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I want to call you for a bit of a chat.”

“Just consider yourself lucky I didn't take your head off,” Ginny grumbled. “Well, get to it. What’s so important that you had to kidnap me?”

Draco was annoyed with himself for getting so carried away with their banter that he had forgotten the purpose of their chat. Wait—banter? They didn’t banter. That sounded too much like flirting. They were arguing, that’s what it was.

“We need to do something about your friend Lovegood,” he told her.

“Why, what’s wrong with Luna?” Ginny demanded hotly, her hackles rising at the mention of a problem with her friend. “Granted, she’s a bit odd sometimes, but she’s extremely sweet and lovely, and there’s no need to ‘do something’ about her!”

Draco’s lips quirked at how defensive she was being. She was an amusing little thing – some of the time.

“Luna isn’t just ‘a bit odd’,” he clarified. “She’s definitely gone around the bend. She’s bloody stalking me. She thinks I need counselling. She thinks I have a crush on you!”

“Oh Merlin, not that again!” Ginny exclaimed, looking apologetic.

Luna had been very persistent about this whole ‘secret love’ thing. It was enough to drive anyone mad, and for once she was glad that her friend was in a different House. However, she had no idea that Luna was also seeking Malfoy out. After all, it wasn’t like they routinely spent time together.

“She’s outside the library like clockwork every night, waiting for me,” Draco complained.

Ginny had to snigger at the mental image of Draco creeping out of the library like You-Know-Who was after him. “Scared of a little girl?”

“I’m not scared!” Draco protested. Really, the Weasel was entirely missing the point. “As I said before, it’s bad for my reputation to be seen talking to people from the lower echelons of society. My friends are starting to notice.”

“Well, what do you want me to do? It’s not like I haven’t tried to get her to stop, but when Luna gets an idea, it’s … well, it’s very hard to change her mind.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m about to start docking points off Ravenclaw for annoying the Head Boy.”

“Look,” Ginny began in what she hoped was a calm and reasonable voice, although at this point she thought her friend deserved getting points docked (stalking Malfoy? Really? ), “perhaps it’s best to just lie low for a couple of weeks until Luna gets bored. Avoid the library. In fact, avoid lingering in public areas alone.”

Merlin, she was speaking as if Luna were an axe-murderer. How had it come to this?

“Look ,Weasel, I’m not about to fail my NEWTS just because Lovegood thinks we’re secretly in love.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a bunch; I’m sure there are plenty of other places in Hogwarts for studying.”

As it turned out, there weren’t plenty of other places in Hogwarts for studying, proven by the fact that one Tuesday evening, Ginny found her study session interrupted by the appearance of Draco.

“Go away, I was here first,” she said, annoyed.

“Last I checked, the Room of Requirement was still Hogwarts property. Anyway, you’re the one who suggested I find another place to study,” Draco retorted, setting his books down.

“Yes, well, I meant someplace else.”

“It’s just your luck, then, that Loo—na seems to have found me in every single one.”

She’d even found him in the room between the third and fourth floor which could only be gotten to by stepping on certain trick steps, and which only he and a few other Slytherins knew about.

“Don’t you have your own room?” Ginny persisted. She had fifteen inches of The Use of Hellion Leaves in Levitating Charms left to write and she dearly wanted to finish it by the end of the night. She did not appreciate this disruption.

“The bed’s too distracting.”

“And here I thought the Great Draco Malfoy didn’t have a lazy bone in his body.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Draco said with a lift of an eyebrow, letting his meaning sink in fully.

“Oh, eww! Too much information there. I did not need to know that.”

“Well, now you do. Scoot over.”

“Fine. But if you make so much as a sound, I will personally see to it that you never need a bed again.”

“You know, that’s technically wrong, because if you maim me I’ll probably have to be in bed all the time.”

Ginny shot him a withering stare. “Dead people don’t need beds, do they?” she snapped, to which he had no answer.

They worked in silence for the best part of an hour. Ginny was surprised to note that Draco was a disciplined worker. Unlike her, he wasn’t prone to bouts of staring into space or doodling. He was one of the top students in his year, and now, when she actually thought about it, it made sense. Before, she’d always dismissed it, thinking that Snape had pushed up his grades. But now she saw that it had been pretty stupid of her. Favouritism would only go so far, especially considering that Potions was only one out of six or seven subjects.

“Malfoy?”

“Hmm.”

“How good are you at Herbology?”

“I’m good at everything, but that doesn’t mean I want to help you.”

“You’re a real arse, you know that?”

“Thanks, I get that all the time.”

She sat there frowning, and after a few moments of this strangely sullen Ginny, Draco caved. “Fine. What is it? And make it quick.”

Ginny’s frown was instantly replaced by a grin, and she pushed her book towards him. Draco Malfoy knew just how to push all her buttons, but perhaps he wasn’t so bad after all.



~



Draco was surprised to see her there again the next evening.

“Apparently you don’t find me that hateful, do you?” he said with a smirk.

She shrugged. “Yup, and ‘not hateful’ is probably the best compliment anyone can pay you,” she replied smoothly, and promptly went back to her work.

As NEWTS were approaching, Draco didn’t have much choice. Every evening, he went down to the Room of Requirement, toting his books and notes. The Weaselette seemed to have got used to having him around. Without a word (though with some huffs of annoyance), she’d shift her things to make space for him and they would study in companionable silence (for the most part).

Sometimes, they would talk when taking short breaks or when bored with their work. They’d tacitly called a semi-truce since this whole ridiculous debacle with Lovegood, and he found that she could be quite good company when she wasn’t yelling at him or trying to hex him.

She was interesting, he’d give her that. Unlike other girls, she wasn’t overly concerned with what he thought (in fact, she wasn’t concerned at all, which was to tell the truth a bit ego-bruising). She was quick-witted and they could banter for ages (though he’d suddenly feel uncomfortable with the fact that he was conversing so easily with a Weasley, and would stop).

On one of these occasions, Draco was just finishing up a chapter for Astronomy when Ginny closed her book with a loud bang.

He frowned at her, annoyed, but she seemed not to notice him.

“Merlin, I’m hungry,” she said to no one in particular, stretching her arms above her head.

“Me too,” Draco said offhandedly, contemplating the way the buttons on her slightly sheer cotton blouse seemed to strain when she did that.

He was shocked out of his reverie when she suddenly said, “Want to grab some supper?”

What was he doing, looking at the Weaslette as if she were a girl?

At his silence, Ginny laughed. “Close your mouth, Malfoy; I was just being polite. I won’t be offended if you say no. In fact, more food for me is always better!” Her stomach rumbled, as if on cue.

“If I don’t go, will there still be food at lunch tomorrow?”

Ginny played along, refusing to let him spoil her good mood at having finished her monstrously long and tedious essay. “Nope, I’ll have sent it all home to my starving, dirt-poor family. They rely on my handouts, you know.” She peered over his shoulder. “Are you done for the day?”

In fact, Draco had a few pages left to read. But what the heck. “Yeah, let’s get some supper,” he said.

As Draco packed his things, he felt thoroughly unsettled. He was a systematic kind of person – he woke up at seven-thirty every morning like clockwork (unless it was a weekend, in which case he woke up at ten-thirty) and took his baths at nine every night. He liked things in order and enjoyed making lists and plans. Part of his study plan was to finish Chapter Eight of his Astronomy course book by today. His preparation for the NEWTS was coming along quite splendidly, but why had he compromised? A spot of supper sounded good, yes, but he could have easily had it after he had finished his work. He didn’t need company. He especially didn’t need her company.

“Finally,” Ginny said as he made his way towards the door. “I thought we were going to have breakfast instead at the rate you were going.”

Nope, he had no idea what he was doing with the Weaslette.



~



As they walked down the corridors, Ginny couldn’t help but be painfully aware of the unlikely situation they were in. A Weasley and a Malfoy, having a meal together. What if her housemates saw them? What would she say? Would she tell them to sod off, Malfoy was—what? A real git overall, but all right sometimes? He probably wouldn’t extend the same courtesy to her, had they run into Slytherins.

As it turned out, her concerns had no chance to materialise as they reached the kitchens uneventfully.

“It’s the Miz Weazy!” Dobby exclaimed happily as he spotted Ginny. "And Master Malfoy," he added uncertainly, probably remembering his sock-less days at Malfoy Manor.

“Hello, Dobby! Nice socks,” Ginny said, nodding at the fluffy purple-and-orange striped confection on his feet.

Draco snorted, and Ginny elbowed him. “Be nice,” she warned.

Dobby preened at the compliment. “Harry Potter is giving it to Dobby for his birthday, Miz!” he informed them, eyes brimming with tears of joy at the memory. “What would the Missus and Master like to eat?”

“Everything you have. ‘Miz Weazy’ here is sending it home to her family,” Draco said as Ginny shot him a glare.

“Two plates of dinner will do, Dobby. Thanks!”

There was a silence as Dobby scrambled to get them food.

“So,” Ginny said, wracking her brain for something to say. “This is pretty strange, isn’t it?”

"It is now that you've gone and said it,” Draco told her.

Ginny frowned. “You don’t have to be an arse all the time, Malfoy. I was just making conversation.”

“Actually I do have to; otherwise I’d get kicked out of Slytherin.”

Ginny couldn’t help a grin at that. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I guess you’re forgiven then.”

“Really? You’re giving me permission to be an arse?”

“Like you can help it.”

They tucked in happily as Dobby set plates of bangers and mash in front of them. Neither of them heard the portrait door slide open.

“Well, isn’t this cosy!” Luna exclaimed happily, considering the uneaten plates of food in front of Ginny and Draco. This was perfect. She had them right where she wanted them – with plates of unfinished food and nowhere to run.

She settled herself on a chair and whipped a notebook and pen out of her satchel. “You know why I’m here, don’t you?”

Draco suppressed a groan. All of a sudden, his bangers and mash looked more traitorous than appetising. He looked at Ginny, who shrugged in resignation.

“Fine. Fire away,” Draco said. “Just know that we vehemently deny that anything’s going on.”

“The boy speaks on behalf of both,” Luna said aloud, writing in her notebook and earning a glare from Draco. “All right, let’s start. Why isn’t there anything going on?”

“We can’t stand each other,” Ginny quickly pointed out.

As the words left her mouth, she realised that they weren’t entirely true. Given the past week, she could no longer honestly say that she couldn’t stand him. Was he a pleasant person? No. Could she stand him? Yes. In fact, she kind of enjoyed his dry, caustic sense of humour, although she would never in a million years tell him that.

“Really?” Luna queried. “Why are you eating together, then? Did you meet in the kitchens by accident?”

Ginny and Draco looked at each other guiltily. Damn Luna for being so darn observant. “Well…”

“I think we need to get this out first.” Luna turned to Ginny. “Do you hate him?”

Ginny looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Well…”

“Is that a ‘no’?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I can’t say I hate him.” The words were nearly a whisper.

Draco looked extremely smug.

“And you?” Luna asked, turning to Draco.

“Well, I don’t hate myself, obviously—”

“Malfoy,” Luna said warningly.

Draco sighed. Really, there was no point making this long and painful; he might as well give the girl some answers so that maybe she would leave and he would be able to eat in peace. “No.”

Luna’s face broke into a grin. “Right. So far we’ve established that the both of you don’t hate each other. This is going splendidly, can you tell?”

Draco scowled.

Oblivious, Luna read the next question off her checklist. “Why don’t you give each other a chance?”

Draco snorted. “Are you kidding? I think it speaks for itself.”

“No, it doesn’t. You don’t hate each other—”

“Luna,” Ginny interjected, “if I dated every guy I didn’t ‘hate’, I’d be dating half of Hogwarts, as in all the males.”

“But you’ve got wonderful chemistry! Why don’t you think it would work?”

“For one, I can’t imagine my parents would be too pleased, can you?” Draco pointed out.

“Yeah, his dad tried to kill me once, remember?” Ginny added through a mouthful of mashed potato.

“Merlin, Weasel, could you be any more uncouth?”

In answer, Ginny grinned at him and mimicked a burp, to which Draco snorted.

“Wonderful chemistry, check,” Luna said, putting a small tick in her notebook. She turned to Draco. “Now, why don’t you think your parents will be pleased? Ginny is a pureblood, no?”

“Yes, but she’s a Weasley,” Draco said slowly, as if speaking to a very small child. “That red hair is reason enough for my father to write me out of his will.”

“You know, I think the hate is back,” Ginny muttered, but Luna didn’t seem to hear her.

“Is this the only ground for your parents’ objections?” she asked Draco, scribbling.

“Probably that I can’t speak Parseltongue,” Ginny piped up sarcastically.

Draco pointedly ignored her. “As mentioned, she has terribly poor table manners.”

“Like being rude and obnoxious is good manners,” Ginny snapped.

She had no idea why she was suddenly in such a terrible mood. She didn’t want to date Malfoy, so why did she care? Obviously, her brain reasoned, it’s because she was insulted by his offhanded dismissal of her altogether as a possible candidate. After all, who was he but an annoying prick? How dare he put her down as if she were entirely unworthy?

“Anything else?” Luna pressed.

“It just wouldn’t work,” Draco said emphatically. “Not that we want it to work.”

Luna blinked. “I see,” she said in a way that made it abundantly clear that she did not see. “Ginny, what about you?”

“Given that he just spent the past minute insulting me, I think you know why,” Ginny said lightly, hoping that the hurt she felt didn’t show. “Not to mention I’d be responsible for giving Ron a heart attack.”

“That’s the first positive thing you’ve thought of, Weasley,” Draco said. “Anyway, Lovegood, it’s getting rather late and as this interrogation has been about as enjoyable as my last tooth extraction, I think I’ll be going now.”

Draco strode down the corridor, feeling unsettled by the whole encounter. When Luna had asked why he and Ginny didn’t give each other a chance, he’d considered it a stupid question. Now that he got to thinking about it, though, why was it that his family’s disapproval was the only reason he could come up with in answer to her question?

Ginny was still loud and brash and didn’t shrink from telling him when to stuff it (which she did quite often, and enjoyed far too much), but somewhere along the way it seemed he’d forgotten how to be annoyed at these characteristics – at least on her.

What had changed, and when?



~



Lucius was in his study, engaging in his favourite pastime – counting money – when he heard a strange scratching sound outside his window. At first he ignored it, but the sound became more persistent. He went to check and realised that it was a scrawny miniature owl bearing the Hogwarts crest. Strange. Draco never used school owls; there was no need to use them when he had his own eagle owl. Perhaps it was from one of the staff?

That’s my boy, Lucius thought, his lips quirking as he remembered his own ‘bad boy’ reputation in Hogwarts. Although, on the other hand, Head Boy did have a nice ring to it.

He opened the letter, and had to sit down almost immediately.

Dear Mr and Mrs Malfoy,

Let me first introduce myself. My name is Luna Lovegood, and I go to school with your son Draco. Mr Malfoy might remember me; we met at the Department of Mysteries. You may not have recognised me though, as at the time my head was swollen and also it was quite dark…



~



Luna Lovegood enjoyed mealtimes. It was the one time everyone from all four Houses sat together in one place, and she enjoyed observing the behavioural quirks of the different people. She had concluded very early on that House stereotypes were quite accurate (technically), but also quite misleading in that they only skimmed the surface of the myriad of characteristics possible in any given person.

For instance, Hermione Granger (who was currently lecturing Ron and Harry about something, as far as Luna could tell), was righteous and dared to stand up for her beliefs (she had set up an official Hogwarts S.P.E.W., although attendance was dismal, to say the least), as a Gryffindor should be. However, she was also extremely resourceful (a Slytherin trait) and much smarter than many Ravenclaws.

Luna pondered on these things as she slowly worked her way through her bacon and toast, but her enjoyment was interrupted by an angry voice.

“Lovegood!”

“Oh, hello, Draco. Good morning,” Luna greeted breezily.

Draco was brandishing what appeared to be a few crumpled pieces of parchment. “What is the meaning of this?” he bellowed.

Luna read:

Dear Draco,

Imagine my surprise when I received a letter from one of your schoolmates this afternoon informing me of your attachment to the Weasley girl. I have attached the letter for your perusal and demand to know what is going on.

Your mother and I are pleased that she’s a pureblood, but as I have always said, all that red hair is absolutely ghastly. Gentlemen (such as yours truly) prefer blondes, and you should be no exception. In short: what are you thinking, going after a Weasley? I hope I have brought you up with better taste than that.

Your mother is also extremely miffed that she is always ‘the last to know these things’. Please placate her before she spends our entire fortune in Madame Malkin’s and Twenty-Four Carats.

Regards,

Your father

P.S. I shouldn’t have to remind you that the Weasleys breed like rabbits. If you feel the need to partake in certain unsavoury activities with the Weasley girl, be sure to take the necessary precautions. I do not want to see pink-haired babies running around here anytime soon.



~



Ron Weasley was stealing some of Hermione’s bacon when he noted that a silence had befallen the Great Hall. Oh, Merlin, it must be You-Know-Who, was his first thought.

Ron looked frantically around, and was about to warn Harry and Hermione when he saw that Malfoy was stalking over to the Ravenclaw table as the rest of the Great Hall watched on. Oh, just one of those things, he thought, sinking back into his seat in relief. Malfoy was waving a piece of parchment around and gesticulating wildly to Luna, who looked only mildly interested in his ramblings.

Ron elbowed Harry. “Hey, look, Malfoy’s finally gone bonkers.”

Then he felt a rush of air beside him. Ginny had got up and was going over to the Ravenclaw table as well. Ron put his head in his hands and groaned. Why was Ginny always getting herself involved in these things? Malfoy was a prat, no doubt, and Luna was a friend, no doubt, but couldn’t she let Luna fight her own battles? As her brother, it was his duty to ‘make sure she didn’t get bullied’, as Mum had put it. Ginny? Get bullied? Ron scoffed. Who had Mum been living with the past sixteen years?



~



Ginny stalked over to the Ravenclaw table.

Although she’d come to know that Draco’s bark was much, much worse than his bite, it didn’t hurt letting him know that there was at least one other person on Luna’s side, given that those spineless Ravenclaws wouldn’t do a damn thing to help her.

She got there just in time to hear Luna saying, “You know, I never pegged you as the sort of person who did things just because your parents told you to, even if you thought differently. I thought you were your own person, Malfoy. Perhaps I was wrong.”

Draco was silent, and Ginny took this as her chance to interrupt. “What’s going on?”

In response (although Ginny had actually addressed Luna), Draco shoved two pieces of parchment under her nose. She recognised Luna’s loopy handwriting, and felt some measure of dread well up in the pit of her stomach.

… I write pertaining to your son, Draco Malfoy. It concerns his love life, which you would agree is of extreme importance. You see, I have recently found out that Draco is secretly in love with Ginny Weasley. However, he is hesitant to make a move – a very important move, I might add, which concerns his future happiness – because he believes that you will not approve. Before you get upset and cut him out of your will (as Draco predicts you will), I would like to point out that although Ginny may not have the best table manners, she is one of the best and nicest girls at Hogwarts. She is also smart, kind and good at Quidditch. And although she cannot speak Parseltongue, in my opinion, being able to curse effectively in twelve languages is a far superior skill.

Of course, Ginny herself is not too amenable to the idea of a relationship with Draco, but that is another matter altogether. In the meantime, I hope that you will give him your blessings and encourage him in this pursuit. Thank you.

P.S. Have you heard of Romeo and Juliet? With your help, hopefully it will not come down to that.

Regards,

Luna Lovegood

“Luna!” Ginny wailed. “You’ve gone too far this time!” She hated the whiny sound that was issuing from her mouth, but the situation well and truly warranted it.

“Ginny, I know what you are going to say; however, this is for your own good.” Luna said, sounding serious and mature for someone who had written a letter to Lucius Malfoy telling him that his son was in love with his mortal enemy’s daughter.

“Did you consider mine?” Draco snapped. “My father is going to have my head for this.”

Luna peered at him. “Did you read the letter properly? I rather thought he seemed okay with it. He even considered what your children might look like.”

This was apparently too much for Draco, who looked faint. Snatching the pieces of parchment away, he stormed off, muttering to himself.

On the other side of the Great Hall, Ron looked relieved that he wouldn’t have to go over and stop the fight. “Definitely bonkers.”



~



Luna thought hard as she lay in bed that night. The map that she had ‘borrowed’ from Harry (without his permission, but she fully intended on returning it as soon as she got what she needed out of it. And, anyway, what use would he have for it? Saving the world? Pfft.) had come in useful in pinpointing exactly where Malfoy and Ginny were, but it wasn’t enough. They had proven terribly stubborn, but Luna was not about to give up without a fight.

Something more had to be done. It was time to bring in the professionals.



~

Draco was in an irritated mood when he went down to breakfast the next morning. He shot a dark look at the Ravenclaw table, where Luna was staring into space.

Damn that Luna Lovegood! Not only was she singularly the most meddlesome person he had come across (rivalling even his mother), he decided that everything that was not right in the world was most definitely her fault. What had she meant by writing to his father like they were old chums? And how dare she tell lies about him! For Draco was most definitely not ‘secretly in love’ with Ginny Weasley – not even a bit. That Lovegood had some nerve carrying on with this deluded plan of hers when she knew full well how he felt about it. Not to mention that with all the talk about sexual tension, Lovegood had opened his eyes to the fact that the littlest Weasel was a girl. He would’ve had to be a saint not to start thinking of Ginny as a member of the opposite sex. Wait—Ginny? When had he started thinking of her as Ginny?

In any case, it was all Lovegood’s fault that he’d started thinking about Ginny in the strangest way. For instance, that day he’d overheard Ginny discussing with a friend her favourite place to buy lingerie, and his imagination had gone wild. And then yesterday he’d happened to catch a whiff of perfume on her as she’d walked past him, and it had driven him crazy for the rest of the day. He imagined her dabbing a little on her wrist, on the pulse point on her neck… Little Ginny Weasley had certainly grown up, and Draco had definitely noticed.

These treacherous thoughts had culminated in an extremely odd dream last night, which he did not want to think about in the Great Hall. For all he knew, Potter might be a Legilimens and tell the Weasel (the ugly male one) what was going on in Draco’s head, and then the Weasel would finally try to kill Draco for thinking of his little sister in that way (Draco was willing to bet that the ugly Weasel was one of those people who still turned red when the topic of sex came up).

The blond had woken up extremely frustrated and had sworn that no one would ever find out about his dream. It was only a dream, and had no special meaning. It must have been the combined effect of the suggestion in his father’s letter about taking ‘necessary precautions’, and the fact that he hadn’t got any in a while. Yes, that had to be the reason.

Draco carefully avoided looking at the Gryffindor table (where he knew she would be, laughing or eating in the most distracting way possible). As Draco sliced his bacon, he resolved to put the dream firmly in the back of his mind. He was a self-respecting Slytherin, and a Malfoy at that. He would not be brought to his knees by foolish thoughts of red hair on black silk sheets.



~



“Dr—Malfoy?”

“Yes?” Draco decided not to dwell on the fact that she’d nearly called him by his given name.

“Don’t move.”

Draco stilled. They were packing up their belongings to leave the Room of Requirement and return to their Common Rooms for the night. Although Ginny hadn’t said a word about it, he knew that her exams ended the next day and there would be no reason for her to come back. For some reason, going down this train of thought gave Draco a low hollow feeling in his stomach. If he had been more schooled in emotions (in particular, feeling and not hiding them), he would have realised that it was dread.

Very slowly, Ginny came closer until she was right in front of him. Draco struggled not to make any movement. What was the Weaslette doing? Was she going to—? Did he want her to—?

“Weasel,” he began.

“Shh,” Ginny cautioned. Excruciatingly slowly (at least that’s how it felt to him), Ginny lifted herself on her toes. With her head tilted up, Draco could almost feel her breath on his chin. It was intoxicating. He resisted the urge to grab her and kiss her senseless; at least if she were the one to do it, no dignity would be lost on his part.

Slowly, her hand went up to his ear and, quick as lightning, it shot out and grabbed a handful of his hair.

“What in Merlin’s name!” Draco cried, leaping back in shock.

Ginny showed him the creature now cupped in her hand. “It’s a cricket.”

Draco sputtered in indignation. He would deal with the disappointment later. “What was it doing in my hair?” he demanded, trying to smooth down his immaculately gelled hair. He willed his heart to slow its quickstep. Nothing had happened. It had just been a cricket in his hair.

“It’s attracted to blonds, it seems,” Ginny said, shrugging. She scrutinised him for a moment. “You know, your hair looks better like that; a little mussed up.”

Draco couldn’t help the half-smile that edged up the side of his mouth. “A Weasley complimenting a Malfoy? I never thought I’d live to hear it.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Ginny quipped.

There was a protracted silence as Draco struggled to think of something to say. Anything to keep her around for just a bit longer.

“Well, I’ll be off now,” Ginny said, giving him a strained smile. “I’ll see you around then, Malfoy.”

Draco stood rooted to the spot as he watched her leave. Was he going to let her leave like this? Then again, why not? What did he want to do, anyway? So what if he never saw her again?

As Ginny reached the end of the corridor, she abruptly turned around, and, in that instant, Draco felt like he had taken a kick to his stomach; had she always been this beautiful? And damn it all, what was happening to him?

“Malfoy?”

“Yes?” he asked, fully hating how eager he sounded; how desperate, how transparent.

“All the best for NEWTs.”

“Uh—thanks.” Draco didn’t know what to say. Where had his acidic wit and sharp tongue gone? He could hear Blaise in his mind’s eye, taunting him: They’ve hibernated for the winter, together with your spine. No, it was not going to end this way.

“It’s late. C’mon, I’ll walk you back,” he said in a voice that brooked no objection.

“All right,” Ginny agreed.

As they walked down the corridor together, Draco wondered what the hell he was doing and what this strange feeling blooming inside him was. For damn if he didn’t feel like he wanted to walk her everywhere.

Draco thought it might be awkward afterwards, but as he turned to leave, Ginny grinned impishly at him. “Well, thanks for walking me back, Ferret.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at the nickname. “Weasel.”

“Albino.”

“Carrot-top.”

“Big-Head boy.”

“Freckle-face.”

“Boot-licker.”

“Muggle-lover.”

“Stupid head.”

“… Stupid head?”

“Shut up, Malfoy.”



~



Blaise Zabini studied the blond seated across him at the Slytherin table.

His friend had been acting very strangely as of late. He’d been disappearing every night for the past few weeks. Draco said it was to study, but then he refused to say more on the matter, and when he returned, he’d be in a much better mood. Not that Blaise expected Draco to break out in song or anything (displaying happiness was not a trait Malfoys possessed, apparently), but the boy was less snappy and, for the most part, more relaxed. In the mornings, though, he’d revert to being terribly jumpy and generally just behaving in an odd manner. Not to mention that owl he’d got that had made him so snippy.

Blaise would bet his last penny that this strange behaviour had something to do with a girl. Perhaps that blonde Ravenclaw that had been following Draco around like a puppy. She seemed involved in the owl incident as well.

Perhaps it was time to do some investigation.

As it turned out, there was no need to investigate. The aforementioned Ravenclaw came up to Blaise as he was exiting the Great Hall, and introduced herself.

“Hello,” she said, “I’m Luna Lovegood. Some people call me Loony, but I really prefer ‘Luna’. Pleased to meet you. What is your name?”

Disconcerted as he was by her introduction, foremost in Blaise’s mind was the fact that she had no idea who he was.

“Blaise Zabini,” he replied, feeling quite injured.

Was she kidding? He was only the most popular and best-looking person in Hogwarts, and she didn’t know his name?

“Hello, Blaise. Am I right to say that you are a Slytherin, and also good friends with Draco Malfoy?” Luna asked, staring at him with large eyes, which was frankly disconcerting.

Blaise nodded.

“Well, I have a proposition for you…”



~



When Blaise heard Luna’s theory on Draco and the Weasel girl, he had a hard time keeping his face straight. If there were ever two people whom he thought would kill each other before dating, it would be them. They were constantly quarrelling, though now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen them doing so in a while. Come to think of it, she was one of the few who could truly cause Draco to lose his cool. Not that this was a good thing.

At the end of the day, Blaise didn’t need much persuasion. He loved schemes of all kinds, the sneakier the better. Given that this one was against the King of Scheming himself, a.k.a. his good friend Draco Malfoy, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Besides, Draco couldn’t fault him for partaking in a plan that was for his own good, could he?

“Those two are so pigheaded, they’ll never admit anything,” Blaise explained to Luna. “What you have to do is force them.”

Luna’s eyes got very large. “You mean like Veritaserum?”

“I was thinking something more along the lines of locking them in a broom closet until they admit it, but that works too. Or jealousy; jealousy always works. What have you done so far?”

“I gave Ginny a dippetberry bracelet. It helps to overcome one’s inhibitions and prejudices,” she explained earnestly, when Blaise just stared at her, open-mouthed. “But it didn’t work. The dippetberries were probably too old or something.”

“Hmm.” Blaise was tactful enough not to say anything dismissive. After all, they were working towards the same end. “Anything else?”

When Luna told him about the owl, Blaise couldn’t help but marvel. This girl had some guts writing to Lucius Malfoy. The man still gave him the creeps.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked. “Can we make them admit they’re in love before Malfoy graduates from Hogwarts? I know Ginny will be devastated if nothing happens, even if she does pretend so well sometimes,” Luna added with a concerned sigh for her friend.

Privately Blaise thought that Luna was off her rocker for thinking that the Weasel Girl was only ‘pretending’ to dislike Draco. Then again, as he thought about what Luna had told him concerning the events of the past weeks, it occurred to Blaise that, in denial or not, Draco had been happier and he had a sneaking suspicion that it actually might have something to do with the Weasel Girl.

“Well, it can’t hurt to try,” he conceded. “But with Draco, you’ve got to be a little sneaky…”



~



Ginny had been rather relieved when Luna had promised to stop bothering her and Draco about each other if they’d go for one last counselling session.

Now Ginny sat in a cushy chair in the Charms classroom, quite happy that she would no longer have to defend her views on Malfoy. Luna had gone all out (she probably felt bad about the whole thing, especially as Draco still had NEWTS to study for), with hot tea and shortbread and soft fluffy chairs for them to sit on. It really wasn’t bad. The worst that could be said about the situation was that it was boring; Luna had gone on at length about the importance of chemistry, and was now talking about overcoming childhood prejudices.

Ginny took another bite of her shortbread, and then another. It was really quite delicious.

She sneaked a look at Draco, whose eyes were slightly glazed over, and fought a giggle. He looked positively angelic when he wasn’t wearing a scowl. It had occurred to her that despite all his complaining (which he loved to do), he had been surprisingly sweet about the whole thing, agreeing to humour Luna (some of the time, at least) when he could have just told her to bugger off.

“Now, on to the questions!” Luna said brightly. “The first question is whether you find each other attractive.”

“What? How is this relevant?” Ginny demanded, the chunk of shortbread that she had been holding freezing in its trajectory towards her mouth.

Ginny understood (from a purely disinterested, objective viewpoint, of course) that Malfoy was incredibly drool-worthy, and she also knew that Luna knew this. In fact, Luna had gotten Ginny to admit this to her not long ago. Why was she pushing the matter now?

“If you’d paid any attention at all in the last ten minutes,” Luna stated with a small frown, “you would know that attraction is very important in any relationship. Shall we start with you, Gin?”

“I went first the last time; I think it’s Malfoy’s turn.”

Ginny knew she sounded childish, but she did not want to admit in front of Draco that she found him attractive. She could lie, but then she’d always been bad at it, and then Draco would know. Obviously, Luna was being downright evil wanting Ginny to reveal this embarrassing bit of information in front of the Slytherin. It was true that Luna was her good friend, but Ginny was going to maim her someday; she swore it. If looks could kill, Luna would be six feet under by now.

“Fine.” Luna turned to Draco. “Malfoy, do you find Ginny attractive?”

Draco took his time, letting his eyes wander over Ginny before speaking. What he’d intended to say was, Well, she’s not as hideous as her brother, I suppose. But what came out instead was, “Much, much more than I should.”

The tea that Ginny had just sipped promptly came spraying out of her mouth. “What?”

Draco himself looked equally shocked at his comment.

Luna hid a smile, taking advantage of Draco’s confusion to ask him another question. “That is to say, you think she’s hot, right?”

“Yes, you have no idea what dreams I’ve been having—”

Suddenly, Draco slapped his hand over his mouth and turned towards Luna accusingly. “You’ve drugged me with Veritaserum!”

Luna considered him placidly. “You catch on quick.”

“Luna, how could you!” Ginny cried, outraged that her friend had so thoroughly betrayed her and had stooped so low to do it.

She’d really thought that Luna was losing patience with this scheme of hers. But, then again, when had Ginny ever known Luna to give up on anything? In retrospect, Ginny thought she should have known that it was too good to be true. Still, she couldn’t deny the tiny shiver of pleasure that had shot through her at Draco’s admission. It always felt nice to be wanted, and she couldn’t help wondering what kind of dreams Draco had had.

Luna gazed at Ginny with an air of martyrdom. “You’ll thank me someday, Gin. Now, where were we?”

“Like I’m going to sit here and let you take advantage of me!” Draco retorted, trying to stand up, but his legs suddenly felt as heavy as lead.

“There might have been something in the shortbread as well,” Luna informed him.

Draco let out a groan of exasperation and then turned to Ginny. “This is all your fault!”

“What do you mean, my fault? I’m a victim too!”

“If you hadn’t kept giving in to her—”

“Don’t fight, children,” Luna interjected. “I’ve only got two questions for each of you, and then you’re free to go. Deal?”

Draco glared at the blonde. “Don’t think Professor Flitwick won’t be hearing about this tomorrow morning.”

Luna dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Let’s just say it’s a less potent version of Veritaserum; one no one has thought to ban in schools. Anyway, let’s get on with it. Gin, I believe it’s your turn. Do you find Malfoy attractive?”

“Yes,” Ginny whispered, thanking her lucky stars that she didn’t say more.

With the knowledge that there was Veritaserum working against her, Ginny had at least had time to prepare a truthful answer that didn’t totally strip her of her dignity.

“And are your feelings towards Malfoy the same as they were three weeks ago?” Luna asked.

“What do you mean?” Ginny responded, avoiding the question.

The simple answer was no, but to say it without giving an explanation might give Luna the idea that she liked Malfoy. Which she most certainly didn’t.

Luna, however, was not so easily fooled, and took the opportunity to make it known.

“After lengthy observation,” the blonde remarked, “I’m more positive than ever that you and Malfoy are meant for each other.”

Ginny shot her a look of disbelief, prompting Luna to continue.

“Oh, don’t pretend. I saw you staring at him during lunch the other day; you looked like you wanted to eat him alive.”

“Luna!” Ginny was horrified, although she didn’t care to examine whether it was at the thought of wanting to eat Malfoy alive (figuratively) or the fact that Luna was telling Draco this.

“Well?” Luna asked. “Do you deny that you were mentally undressing him with your eyes?”

Ginny was forced to answer, though she avoided looking at Draco and resolutely stared into her tea as she did so; she knew he’d likely be sporting a self-satisfied smirk.

“No.”

If she had looked up, she would’ve seen the way Draco held his breath when Luna asked the question and the spots of pink that appeared on his cheeks at her answer. In fact, if she had thought about it at all, she would have realised that he had been strangely quiet throughout the exchange, making no smarmy remarks or boasts about how all the girls loved him.

Luna, meanwhile, had not been so oblivious. Humming as she pretended to jot down notes, she surreptitiously observed Draco’s reaction to Ginny’s answers.

Pupils dilated, check. Uneven breathing, check.

Success! The sexual tension was so palpable now that she could barely stand to be in the same room as the both of them. It was like a ticking time bomb – it was only a matter of time.



~



It was fitting that NEWTS ended on the Friday just before a Hogsmeade weekend. Draco spent his Saturday with his friends, admiring the new brooms for sale and cleaning out Honeydukes. Spent, they then went to The Three Broomsticks for a mug (or ten) of Butterbeer. Snape wouldn’t mind as long as they didn’t embarrass themselves or Slytherin house.

Settling back in his seat with a mug of Butterbeer, Draco contemplated his newfound freedom. Now that his NEWTS were over, he was home-free – soon to leave Hogwarts for good. It was what he’d been looking forward to since his first year; he was ambitious by nature and had wanted nothing more than to leave school and prove himself in the outside world. Now, however, the thought of leaving Hogwarts filled him with dread for reasons that he didn’t want to examine.

“What’s up with you, mate?” Blaise asked as Draco’s head snapped towards the entrance of The Three Broomsticks for the tenth time, as it had every time the door opened.

“Nothing,” Draco said sullenly.

Blaise took a swig of his Butterbeer. “I’m so glad we’re done with Hogwarts.”

Draco grunted.

“Just think, we’ll never have to see any of those Gryffindorks again.”

Draco shrugged. “It’s a small world.”

“Not that small. No more Hufflepuffs, no more Potter, no more Weasleys…” Blaise paused, noting with some satisfaction that Draco’s napkin was balled tightly in his fists. “They probably won’t remember us after a while, anyway,” he added after a moment.

Draco downed the rest of his beer, looking quite miserable. He suddenly wished he’d got firewhisky instead of Butterbeer. He needed something stronger. The thought of never seeing Ginny again made his stomach curl, and the thought that she might forget about him altogether was frankly terrifying. They could almost be considered friends now, but so what? It wasn’t like they would write to each other after he’d left. There were plenty of guys in Hogwarts, and he had seen the way they looked at Ginny. She would be snapped up in no time. Not that she was his to claim, but, still, the thought of her going out with another boy left a sour taste in his mouth.

She had a wicked sense of humour, quite compatible with his. And she was very easy to talk to; he never felt like he was being anything other than himself around her, though she never shrunk from telling him off if she felt he deserved it.

Most importantly, he would miss her company, and could not bear not seeing her again. In fact, he thought, it would be nice if he could see her all the time.

It was then that Draco realised he was in love with Ginny Weasley.

Immediately put on guard, he considered the possibility that Lovegood had drugged him with a love potion, but ruled that out. He wouldn’t put it past her to do something like that, but he had fallen victim to love potions too many times not to recognise the symptoms. The feelings they stirred were passionate and sudden. This… thing with Ginny had been more gradual. Now that he thought about it, every night for the past week he had been going to sleep with thoughts of her in his mind. And not in a naughty way either, which was a first for him. Did he have a chance in hell with her? She’d revealed that she was attracted to him, but how much could that possibly count for?

Could he really leave Hogwarts without giving this a try?



~



Ginny Weasley was in a terrible mood. Although her exams were over, she wasn’t feeling the jubilation that everyone else felt necessary to express in loud and obnoxious ways.

She had come to realise that she was kind-of-maybe-sorta in like with a total prat who would never look twice her way (except to insult her). In addition, she would probably never see said prat again, and this had sunk her mood entirely. The whole revelation had come, most fittingly, from a casual chat with Luna as they ambled through the pebbled streets of Hogsmeade.

“Gin, about the Malfoy thing… I hope you know I really was only doing it for your own good.”

“I know, Lu. It’s sweet that you care enough to do something. But, really, there was no need.”

“But there was no harm, right? Anyway, you’ll never see him again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. Malfoy’s already in his seventh year; he won’t be at Hogwarts after graduation. This is probably the last time you’ll be seeing him ever.”

Ginny had felt like she’d suddenly been doused in ice-cold water. The panic that had shot through her at Luna’s words revealed that Luna had been right all along – she was in love with none other than Draco Malfoy, git extraordinaire.

It had thrown her off-balance, and she’d spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze. It didn’t help that things had been strained between her and Draco since their last counselling session. He’d admitted to having dreams about her, but then boys were boys and couldn’t really help such things. It did not mean that he was going to suddenly declare his love for her or anything like that. He was going to leave Hogwarts and forget that she ever existed.

Luna had noticed her abrupt change in demeanour, and, concerned, had suggested that she take a nice relaxing bath that night instead of her usual shower (“Nine is probably the best time; it’s after hallway traffic clears but not too late so your hair will still be wet when you go to bed”). Ginny thought it sounded perfect. At 8.50 p.m., Ginny grabbed her bath things and headed towards the Prefect’s bathroom, fully intending on spending the rest of the evening relaxing as far as possible.

As she turned the corner onto the corridor where the Prefect’s bath was situated, she saw a familiar snarky blond holding a black bath bag, also striding purposefully towards the bathroom. Her heart skipped a beat, but Ginny was feeling too self-piteous to care. She felt like she’d already lost him, somehow. She needed to wallow for a while; she’d been counting on an indulgent bath to lift her mood. How dare he take that away from her, especially considering that he was the reason she was in such a mood?

Oh, no you don't.

Picking up speed, she almost-ran towards the bathroom, intending to get there before Draco did. Only, of course, with the way her luck had been the past week, what actually happened was that she tripped and pitched right into Draco, whose arms came around her waist as the both of them slammed into the wall.

There was a sense of déjà vu about the whole thing. Hadn’t they been in a situation quite similar to this not very long ago? Hadn’t it, in fact, started this whole thing?

Except, this time, it was somehow different. It wasn’t just that this time they were standing, whereas previously she’d been sitting on him. They weren’t as physically close this time, yet this felt more … intimate, somehow: his hands loosely around her waist and her head barely resting against his shoulder. When she inhaled, she could smell the lovely peppermint smell that she had come to associate with Draco.

She chanced a look at him. He was looking down at her, his eyes a dark, intense grey, searching hers. He still hadn’t let go of her, and his breathing was harsh and uneven.

Ginny’s breath caught at the undisguised want in his eyes. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure that Draco could hear it. She wondered if he was going to kiss her. She had never wanted anything as badly as she did at that moment.

And then, ever so slowly, he bent his head towards hers. His lips were a hairsbreadth away when he murmured, “Don’t kill me, okay?” before lowering his lips to meet hers in a kiss that was as gentle and warm as it was passionate and intoxicating.

Just around the corner, Luna removed the Extendable Ears and passed them to Blaise, who listened for a while and then put them down, smiling smugly. “Told you it’d work,” he said. “Never underestimate the power of a Tripping Jinx.”



~



A few days later…

Luna chewed on the end of her quill as she considered her words carefully. Finally, she set her quill down to paper and began to write.

Dear Mr and Mrs Malfoy,

It’s me again, Luna Lovegood. As you have no doubt heard, your son, Draco, has got a girlfriend, the wonderful girl that I wrote earlier to tell you about. If you are wondering why your son has been smiling so much these days (though it’s a creepy look on him), look no further.

Anyway, I am writing primarily to call dibs on naming their first pink-haired baby. After all, much of their courtship’s progression can be attributed to me. Though young Bobby (or Snookie, if it’s a girl) may not appear for a few years yet, do not fret; I am working on it. As experience has shown, this means that it will happen soon. Cross your fingers!

Regards,

Luna Lovegood

P.S. Congratulations on your acquisition of Twenty-Four Carat Enterprises. I never knew that you could acquire a company jewel by jewel.

~