Chapter 43
“Narcissa! What a lovely surprise,” said cousin Xeno. He had opened the door himself, wearing flannel pajama pants and a lumpy purple sweater.
Narcissa stepped forward and kissed her cousin on the cheek in greeting. “Sorry to arrive unannounced. Draco’s in a mood and insisted on us coming.”
Ever accommodating, Xeno was all smiles as he welcomed them in. “No trouble, no trouble at all! I was just about to continue my studies of mercury amalgamation, and could use a mind as sharp as yours to help catalog the findings.”
“How many times must I tell you not to bring out the mercury?” Narcissa chided gently as she took off her coat and gloves.
Xeno’s eyes twinkled. “At least one more.”
“Well enough of it today. Draco dragged me from the house before luncheon, would you mind terribly if we ate?” It had been a long time since Draco saw his mother be so forward, There was light in his mother’s eyes and color in her cheeks. It gave the vague impression of what she’d been like before.
Motioning his guests to follow, Xeno led off into his home where he managed to scrounge up a large block of cheese and some crackers. “I’ve got quite a good brandy, too, if you’re up for it.” Shockingly, Narcissa was.
“What sort of mood have you collected?” said Luna, who had snuck up when Draco’s attention was focused elsewhere. He shouldn’t have missed her, seeing how she wore an eye-catching white, green, and pink shawl.
Draco startled like always and took a step to the side to gather his wits. “I should put a bell on you,” he wheezed.
Luna tilted her head sideways. “Don’t you think that would scare the little folk?” Draco had never considered.
Luna put on a pink hat and green gloves, and her own pair of muddy work boots before tromping outside with a jug of cream. Since he was already dressed in warm, sturdy clothes, Draco accepted an invitation to join her. Together they ventured down a path to the grounds.
Luna paused near a garden to fill a tin pail hiding in a patch of flowers. Draco kicked a rock off the path as he waited. “Check if it’s a pretty rock before sending it away. The little folk love when you leave behind treasures.”
“What sort of little folk?” Draco inquired.
Luna got to her feet and heaved the jug back up into her arms. “It draws their attention if you say their names too openly.” She gave Draco an apology smile. “Best not discuss it until they know you better.”
Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “Alright,” he said skeptically.
It wasn’t a short chore Luna undertook. There were tin pails all around the grounds and Luna painstakingly filled each one. Draco followed dutifully behind her, finding peace in the tranquil landscape and chill autumn air.
“Do you always do this?” Draco wondered.
Luna tilted her head thoughtfully. “I watch for the signs the fae folk are hungry,” she said cryptically.
“Oh, right,” Draco muttered.
Luna shot him a conspiratorial smile. “I know you don’t believe,” she said. "Most people don’t. They think I'm a bit odd, you know. Some people call me 'Loony Lovegood' actually."
Draco actually gasped. “They wouldn’t,” he said, even as he imagined which people he knew would.
Light laughter burst out of the woman. “You’re sweet, Draco.” Draco ducked his head and kicked at another rock without checking. Luna looped her arm around his and pulled him in close, forcing him out of his bashfulness. “Tell me about this mood that’s descended on you.”
It was Draco’s turn to laugh, even if his laugh was rough around the edges. “My mother exaggerated.”
“Did she,” Luna said serenely, like she wasn’t second guessing him at all.
“She did,” Draco insisted. Luna looked up at him with a sweet smile and patted his arm. It was disarmingly accepting. Draco found himself burrowing into his coat again even without someone to hide from. It took several minutes for him to admit, “The king visited.”
“Ahhh,” said Luna. “And you don’t like the king.”
Draco harrumphed. “The king doesn’t like me.”
Luna made a thoughtful noise. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“It’s obvious. He’s always glaring and yelling at me,” Draco insisted.
“I suppose so,” murmured Luna as she looked dreamily off into the leaves of a tree that were coloring in the cold weather.
“It’s taken years for him to put up with me, but now he just acts like I’m one of the servants,” Draco continued complaining.
Luna patted his arm again. “That sounds very hard.” her tone was consoling but not committed.
Draco breathed deep and let it out in one large woosh. “I get it, you’re his friend first. You’re supposed to take his side.”
“There are no sides, Draco,” it was the gentlest of reprimands.
Draco couldn’t help but snort. “Sure there are. My side locked you in a dungeon, and the king’s side rescued you and the entire kingdom.”
For the first time, Luna tensed on his arm. It lasted only a moment before she relaxed back into their afternoon stroll. “I suppose you’ll never move past the war,” she reflected.
It was Draco’s turn to tense. He didn’t relax at all afterwards, just stared forward and took rigid steps on Luna’s arm. “How could you have moved past it?”
Luna slowed down her steps until they’d both stopped walking. They were next to a small pond with a bench. Luna pulled Draco over to it so they could sit down and stair at the lilly pads in the water.
“My mother was from the north,” Luna began. “She was from an old family, well established, so no one judged father for it. We traveled each winter up to the north to visit my mother’s family” Almost offhand she added, “That’s where I first met Harry. We weren’t close, but he was often kind. Except for when he was angry, and he always had a reason to be angry.” She said it so sadly that Draco didn’t think she judged him at all for it. Luna cleared her throat and returned to her point. “My mother was quite an extraordinary alchemist, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her concoctions went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine." Silence stretched for a long time. Draco had no words to comfort so instead he reached out and took Luna’s hand and squeezed it. Luna smiled at him then, her eyes watery. “What does time in a dungeon compare to that?” she asked Draco.
Draco remembered well the pit of sadness in him that only came to the surface when he dwelled on his father’s execution. It ached in him if he let it, even years after the fact. Draco didn’t even have the blessing of thinking it an injustice his father died young. Instead he held a cold understanding for why it happened and how it cemented Draco’s lowly place in the world. A place where he still lived, because his parents loved him enough to fight for his life instead of their own. So Draco was supposed to be grateful, no matter what lot he was given in life. Only, he never managed to figure out how to be grateful for the things he didn’t like.
“Grieving one bad thing doesn’t mean all the other bad things don’t count anymore,” said Draco.
“Hmm,” Luna said again. “I try to dwell on the positive. Feed the things that bring me joy,” she held up the empty jug. Draco saw the moment she had a thought that made her laugh. “I never thought I’d return to the castle. I’m not one to dwell. But when Harry asked me to help with the ball I found it wasn’t too hard to be there as long as it was to make happy memories.”
“What do you mean you don’t return to the castle?” Draco asked. “Does the king not invite you?”
This time her laughter was at Draco’s expense. “He’d never,” she said merrily. “I’d hate to turn him down, and he’d hate if I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy it.”
Wheels were turning in Draco’s head. The king had been so awkward at who he suggested be guests. “But he invited you to the ball?”
This time Luna’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “He truly needed the assistance.” Luna looked around as if there might actually be someone she’d need to hide from before saying, “This is a secret and you must not tell. But Harry practically begged me to let him plan the ball. George wouldn’t pass on host to him, and only the host gets the previous invitation list. Harry was looking for someone and he asked me to help.”
The wheels turned faster. “He planned the entire ball just to get his hands on a list?”
Luna nodded. “For nothing, as it turns out. The king checked every name and the man wasn’t on it! So Harry changed the rules and invited every eligible gentleman in the kingdom in the hopes that it would draw his crush out.”
“No!” Draco gasped. He lifted a hand to cover his mouth and did his best to restrain the shock.
Luna laughed merrily at Draco’s reaction. “Exactly! It’s so scandalous. But you can’t tell, because Harry didn’t find him in the end and now he’s going to have to marry Prince Viktor. Or Colton Slughorn, who won the king’s game.”
Draco’s eyes widened at that revelation. The king had lied to his friend about what happened and why he’d narrowed his choices down to non-Draco suitors. Draco could feel the surprise on his face being far too vivid and he had to do something to change it. “The prince gets very jealous,” Draco supplied to the story.
“Does he?” Luna asked, leaning forward. Her light-hearted interest was a bane for the heavier topics, so Draco gave in and told her everything. Well, almost everything. At least the light-hearted version of events focused on Draco making a fool of himself and everyone misconstruing that for him charming the king. She reacted at all the right places and in the end Draco found himself happy. Not for the gossip, but for the company.
“Did you make good memories at the ball?” Draco asked, since he didn’t know and genuinely wanted to.
Luna tilted her chin up and stared into the far distance. “I made sure other people had fun, which can be very happy in a way.”
“Sounds a little lonely, the way you say it,” noted Draco. Luna did a half shrug but didn’t answer. “Didn’t George wanted to go with you? What happened with that?”
This smile was a little sad. “I promised Harry I’d help make sure no one got left behind, but that wasn’t going to be fun for George so I sent him on ahead.”
“That’s too bad. He really wanted to go with you,” said Draco.
Her smile grew a little sadder. “I’m never going to be a replacement for Fred.”
“Who’s Fred?” Luna sighed and leaned onto Draco’s shoulder, not answering.
Afterwards, they strolled again back towards the house. Draco chewed on his lip as he considered how to broach the topic. Finally, he just spit it out. “George really does like you. Should I tell him to let it go?”
Luna hummed a tune Draco didn’t recognize as she thought. “Our compatibility is unclear,” she said vaguely. That drew a chuckle and a head shake from Draco. If he needed to, Draco was certain he could be there for George when his heart broke.
When they got back to the house Draco had one final question for his cousin. “What would you have planned, if you had been the host?”
Luna pondered dreamily. “You’ll see in the spring.”
Draco and Narcissa left the Lovegoods not long after a poorly cooked dinner. Draco’s mother was tipsy and didn’t care that the bread had been burned and the vegetables stringy. Draco would have cared, but he’d been side tracked by terribly long and more terribly inaccurate stories on the history of trade routes. Xeno was fascinated with them since he relied on new discoveries to bring in materials for his experiments.
So, both Malfoys were in high spirits when they returned home to Grimmauld Place.
Despite the late hour, Andromeda was still up and in the main rooms of the house. She heard her family’s return and greeted them in the vestibule to hand Narcissa a missive before Andromeda retired to bed.
“What’s this?” Narcissa asked even as she opened it. Inside was a small note written with very bad penmanship. Narcissa looked up upon reading it. In an alarmed tone she repeated, “What’s this?”
Andromeda shrugged and answered, “He just asked me to give it to you. I didn’t read it.”
“Read what?” Draco asked, pulling the paper from his mother’s hand despite her noise of protest. Draco squinted to better read the scribble.
“Dear Narcissa, I’m sorry to have missed you earlier today. I came to invite you to join Andromeda and Teddy for their trip to the castle this October. It would be my pleasure if the entire family could attend. Sincerely, HJP.”
“No fucking way,” said Draco. Both of his elders scolded his language but Draco couldn’t be bothered to care. He looked at his mother, who could only look back at him. Although she didn’t look back with the same helpless desperation roiling inside Draco. She looked back with shining eyes and a smile tugging the side of her lips. That was how Draco knew he’d be giving in to the king.