Unconditional

Christmas, to put it in a word, was boring. Bloody boring. The stupid git Potter left him to spend the hols with a bunch of freckled redheads and Draco was left in the castle all alone.

It really seemed as though everyone had gone away this year. Luna Lovegood had remained, and a few younger students from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The rest of the Ravenclaws and all of the Slytherins were absent.

Admittedly, sometimes it was rather peaceful. Having the library to himself to study for the NEWTS was a blessing, and walking the empty castle was a new and interesting experience. Draco made the acquaintance of quite a few portraits he had never met before.

But even so, it was incredibly, astoundingly boring. He found himself thinking about that stupid git Potter more than was probably healthy. He even found himself being upset that he’d left. As though Potter owed him something. As though Potter should be considering Draco’s feelings about being left alone on Christmas. He was being childish. In an effort to get these inane thoughts out of his mind, he searched out Luna Lovegood. He found her in the common room.

“Hello, Loonyy-a,” he said, stumbling over her name.

“Hello, Black,” she said amiably. “How are your holidays progressing?”

“Oh, alright,” he said, sinking into his favorite chair. “They’re a bit… really bloody boring,” he admitted.

“I thought you might find them to be. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Harry recently and he’s left you to be with the Weasleys.”

“Yes, well.” Draco was annoyed. He quickly remembered why he never spoke to the girl.

“Oh, don’t be upset with him. What with all that’s going on, he just wants to spend time with his loved ones. That’s why everyone is home.” Luna flicked the page of her magazine. “They’re all worried that next time they go home, someone might not be there.”

Draco unconsciously scratched his tattoo.

“Is that your Dark Mark?” Luna asked, discarding her magazine. She leaned interestedly towards Draco’s arm.

“Who says I’ve got a Dark Mark?”

Luna blinked her large, owlish eyes at him. Draco was struck by the thought that the pale, round eyes looked as one might imagine a Seer’s eyes to look. “You think because you’ve stopped paying attention to the world, the world has stopped paying attention to you?” she asked.

Draco was a bit speechless. He looked down at his arm and rolled up his sleeve and showed the girl his obscured Mark.

“Ooh, that’s beautiful,” Luna breathed. She stood up and went for a closer look.

“Beautiful?” Draco repeated quietly.

“The vines, tangling and obscuring such a vulgar symbol, trying to hide it away, push it back, but never quite succeeding. The way they wrap around your arm almost make it look like they are holding the skull to your skin.” She started tracing the vines on his arm. It made Draco uncomfortable, but he was gripped by her strange opinions and didn’t want her to stop talking.

“And you think that’s beautiful?” he asked, too self-conscious to look up.

Luna looked up at him with such intensity that he was forced to return her gaze. “Yes.” Her fingers kept moving while she stared at his face, and her fingers skimmed from the vines over to the Mark, and such pain that Draco had never felt before blazed in his skin.

He clutched his arm and fell, screaming, onto the floor. Luna jumped up. It seemed all she could say was, “Oh, no, oh, no, Merlin, no—“

“Trunk… potion… clear vial… grey…” His words dissolved into tears and whimpers. Luna wasted no time running to the male dormitories.

It seemed to take forever for Luna to return, though it was probably only a few minutes. She applied the salve and almost immediately the burning subsided and Draco was able to sit up. It still hurt and the skin was red and angry. Draco smeared the rest of the contents onto his arm.

“Does that happen a lot?” Luna asked after a while.

“Not really,” Draco said.

“The vial is large,” she pointed out. “And empty.”

“It’s not usually this bad,” he amended.

Luna chewed her lip thoughtfully. “What do you think it means?”

Draco stared at her. “Probably that the bloody Dark Lord is feeling particularly asshole-ish at the moment.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “That’s probably correct.”

Draco shook his head. The bird was a strange one. “I gotta go see Snape.”

“Do you want me to walk with you?”

“No, I definitely do not.”

“I know you don’t. I just thought I should ask anyway.”

---

Draco couldn’t get Luna Lovegood out of his mind as he walked to the Professor’s office. Her bizarre behavior and huge, pale eyes. Her honesty about such strange opinions.

Beautiful. His Dark Mark.

Draco shook his head. It was just Loony Lovegood. That’s what happened when you talked to Loony Lovegood.