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Thunder rumbled off in the distance, louder than it had been earlier, but still not upon them. In the beats of silence, waiting for the flash of lightning to come, Draco counted. One… Two… Three… Four. The top of the tent lit up just before the next boom.
He had no idea where they were, but he wished it were somewhere with a roof and actual beds. It had been three weeks since they'd left on this mission and he was tired. Everything ached. He shifted to move a rock out from under him, where it had been pressing into the small of his back, and continued to stare up at the top of the tent, tracing the pattern of the fabric. There was little else to do in here when he was supposed to be sleeping, and closing his eyes meant nightmares.
"Fuck this," he muttered, getting to his feet. His hip ached as he stepped outside, looking for Severus.
His godfather approached him as soon as the flap of the tent had fallen shut behind him, his dark hair whipping around him with the wind. "Get back inside," Severus said wearily. "Even if you're not going to sleep."
"I thought we could trade off; I'll stand watch." Draco dusted his palms on his trousers. "You haven't slept in two days."
"Neither have you."
Rain began to fall, the drops cold and large, and they both moved inside in some sort of silent agreement. Neither wanted to get soaked, and if they were both awake anyway… they might as well both stay dry.
Draco folded his legs and sat down on his sleeping pad, looking away as Severus did the same, double checking the wards around the tent. They were both stiff, tired and aching, and in need of potions and salves. Neither had brought enough with them, and they were trying to save the last bits of what they did have in case they really needed them. He was tempted to down one of the vials now, though, to ease the pounding in his head, the pull in his shoulder. Would it soothe the nearly constant burning of his left arm?
He didn’t dare voice those thoughts to his godfather. He’d seen him go through worse and grit his teeth through giving reports before he went to take anything. His father had acted the same way the few times he’d been sent out with them.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to stave off the grief - and guilt - he still felt when he thought of Lucius. But behind his eyelids, the scene began to play out again.
Lucius, held in place by three Death Eaters, thrashed against a wall. His voice was hoarse from screaming. In the center of the room, Narcissa was on the floor, her body seizing and convulsing at the feet of the Dark Lord. Draco didn’t know how long it had been going on; he’d just returned from a mission and was on the way to his room to sleep when he heard the sounds and slipped into the library. He looked on in horror as his father broke away from the wizards holding him and flew across the room. The Dark Lord turned his wand from Narcissa to Lucius without uttering a single word, but there was a flash of green light and Lucius crumpled.
Draco opened his eyes again, the echoes of the screams ringing in his ears.
After Severus set his wand down, Draco cleared his throat. "I want to join the Order."
"I beg your pardon?" Severus's voice was so quiet, he was almost drowned out by the downpour now happening around them.
"I want to join the Order," he repeated. His heart was beating so fast, so hard, he felt like his chest was going to burst. It hurt to breathe.
"Now?" Severus was staring at him closely, searching his face intently. "Did the Dark Lord order you to do this?"
"No. He…doesn't know." Draco bit his cracked lip until he tasted blood. "I can't keep doing what we're doing, Severus. Torturing people, kidnapping them… killing them ." They both heard his voice crack.
"You'll still have to do it. The Order is in no position to take you and hide you from him." The older man's jaw worked. "He would know immediately."
"I don't need them to hide me. I can be another spy." Draco swallowed thickly. "Please, Severus.”
"Why are you telling me this? You could find a way to go to them yourself.” His godfather paused, a calculating expression on his face. “Or are you just trying to get killed?”
"Mother." Draco smiled sadly. "She told me to trust you if I had any doubts about all of this."
He pictured his mother’s face as they’d had that conversation, her imploring look. She had beautiful eyes, capable of being cold as glaciers, and that day was no exception. She was angry, though not at him; her rage was aimed at the Dark Lord. Her eyes softened a touch when she was speaking of Severus and Draco wasn’t sure why she trusted the man far beyond anyone else, but he knew better than to ask.
“You do realise this is treason?” His godfather had an odd look in his eyes. “I could hand you over to either side and gain favour for giving them a traitor or a hostage.”
“You could.” Draco paused for a moment. It wasn’t common knowledge among the Death Eaters that Severus was a spy, but the inner circle knew and nobody doubted whose side he was on. The Order suffered blow after blow and while part of that was due to Potter’s preference for non-lethal spells and potions, it could be argued that they also simply weren’t given enough information from their man on the inside.
“Or you could let me assuage my guilt in much the same manner you’re doing,” he said at last, hoping to sway his godfather.
They were both quiet for several minutes before Severus gave a soft sigh. Draco looked up at him quickly, his gray eyes meeting his godfather's black ones with confidence. Severus hadn't uttered a single word, but Draco knew what he was doing – and he didn't blame him. He'd have been shocked if his Occlumency skills hadn't been tested.
He was careful what he let through and what he tamped down. Since this wasn't the Dark Lord, he didn't bother to hide his revulsion of their last mission, the absolute disgust he felt with himself for tearing the family apart. Nor did he hide the memory of seeing Potter during a skirmish a few weeks ago, the way his heart had been beating furiously and how his stomach had been in knots. It would have been so easy to engage with him - to capture or kill him - but he couldn't bring himself to make either move nor to let anyone else know he saw him. The knowledge of that incident would get him killed for certain, should it make it back to the Dark Lord, but he wanted to give Severus something, some proof of good faith.
After several more minutes, the older wizard broke their eye contact and settled into silence again.
"We have another week before we're due back." Severus looked outside through the flap he'd left just slightly open, staring at the sheets of rain for several minutes. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion, reliving things Draco knew he wouldn't speak about. "I'll send the Order a message when this storm is over."
"Minerva, Kingsley." Mad-Eye Moody's rough voice was quiet, but still carried through the cracked door. He wanted Draco to know who was going to be joining them. "A word."
The three of them entered quickly, the tap of wood against the floor the loudest sound in the room as Moody circled it, casting privacy spells and checking every inch carefully for anything that wasn't supposed to be there. When he was done, he turned to them all.
"We're losing the war," the ex-Auror said, then he hesitated. "It's been months since we've gone a week without losing someone."
Nobody said a word. They didn't need to be reminded of the lives that had been lost alongside them or of the people who had been so badly hurt they couldn't fight again. They had all seen life leaving their friends' eyes and had held the hands of innocent people caught in the crossfire.
Draco sat in a chair in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, watching them. Moody's magical eye was focused on him. Shacklebolt was looking back at Draco, an unreadable expression on his face, and McGonagall hadn't taken her eyes off of him since she entered the room. He couldn't tell what either of them were thinking and that worried him.
"The Malfoy boy here has offered to turn for us. Severus vouches for him; he says this isn't under orders." Moody paused. "Severus says he's talented with attack strategy. He could be the advantage we need for finally winning back the upper hand."
"Have you talked to Harry?" McGonagall finally looked over at Moody. "Has he reconsidered his stance?"
"Potter knows," the Auror practically growled. "We're running out of opportunities and it seems our saviour has given up hope. He still maintains that inane rule about using 'harsher magic'. That'll be Dumbledore's fault…"
McGonagall was watching Draco as she spoke, though her question was probably meant for Moody. "Then the purpose of bringing him in is…?"
"You need any edge you can get." Draco looked his former professor in the eye. "When will there be raids? Are there any vulnerabilities in the group making the raid? In the Dark Lord's forces in general? Those are just a fraction of the things you don't know; I can give you answers."
"And Severus can't?" That was Shacklebolt. Draco shifted his gaze to him, feeling a bit more settled; he'd never met the Auror, though he'd heard plenty about him. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a deep voice and a commanding though calming presence that made Draco want to come off the defensive. His question wasn't voiced as an insult to Severus, just mere curiosity.
"The Dark Lord is increasingly paranoid - he doesn't tell most of us the same information.” How much did they know about the way the other side operated? He hadn’t asked earlier. “Severus knows more than most, but we're still given different details about various assignments. He's been tasked with creating and researching spells and potions more lately."
"What about you?" Shacklebolt had tilted his head and seemed to be studying Draco now.
Draco looked around for a moment before meeting the Auror's eyes again. He didn't want to see McGonagall's response, and Moody already knew; they'd had this conversation earlier, after all.
"I help them plan."
There were still four days until they were expected back and Draco wished it were four weeks. The safe house he and Severus were in was by no means a palace, but it was a step up from their shabby tent and it afforded him a shred of privacy he wouldn’t get at home.
Home. Could he even call it that anymore? The rooms where his parents had hosted dinner parties and balls were dark now, used only for the larger meetings. The library, where Lucius used to work for hours, was no longer a quiet refuge. Blood splattered the walls in so many rooms he’d stopped counting.
A board creaked outside his room, pulling him from his thoughts, and then he heard voices down the hall.
“I don’t care that he needs somebody with him; it won’t be me.” Potter.
“Oh, come on , Harry. Mad-Eye asked us to do this, and it makes the most sense for you to go with him!” That would be Granger.
They were arguing.
“Hermione, what makes you think he’ll come back if he comes with us? Or that we will?” And there was the Weasel.
Draco couldn’t help being amused; he’d never particularly liked the three of them and knew their feelings were mutual. And yet here they were, forced to work together. He hadn’t been surprised last night when Severus told him the Order was only letting a handful of people know about him - it made sense, as it would help minimise the damage done should he either betray them or be caught. He had been surprised when he’d been told that one of the handful of people that were aware of his new position would be with him on a quick assignment before he and Severus left.
It was a test, he knew, to see how well he could follow orders. Would he desert them immediately and go tell the Death Eaters what he’d learned?
He just hadn’t expected to receive an assignment this quickly.
The trio’s words were lost to him as they lowered their voices, no doubt not wanting him to know what they were on about, but he could tell from the strained tone of their voices that they were arguing.
With a slight eye roll, he stood from where he’d been sitting on the edge of his bed and stepped out of the bedroom. They didn’t hear him coming down the hallway, although he could hear their conversation tapering off, and just as he reached the end of the hall he heard a fourth voice chime in. It was softer than the others, but he recognized it even though he hadn't heard it in two years.
“I’ll do it.”
He raised his eyes from the floor to see Luna Lovegood standing right in front of him.
He hadn’t seen her since he’d left Hogwarts, though he’d come across her name on some intel during his meetings with the inner circle. She was a known associate of Potter’s, but they’d elected to go after other targets in lieu of her. If they won the war, Draco assumed they’d want her for the marriage laws the Dark Lord wanted to enact. She was a pureblood after all.
She looked striking, wearing a dark purple dress with bright flowers on it, her long blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. A few strands had escaped the band to frame her face. She was looking back at him good-naturedly, with nothing but kindness in her silvery-blue eyes, and he felt his cheeks redden as he quickly looked away from her.
There had been many nights he’d thought of her when they were at school, and he had the feeling there’d be many more to come. He'd always fancied her but he'd hardly been in any sort of position to act on his feelings, even putting aside the animosity between himself and Potter.
"Hello, Draco." Luna offered him a smile.
"Lovegood." He nodded to her, unable to bring himself to return the smile, and looked around the room at the trio of Gryffindors. "What is it you can't be bothered to do?"
The three of them looked at each other, a guilty look in their eyes, and waited a beat before Hermione spoke.
"A few weeks ago, the Death Eaters attacked one of our safe houses. We got everyone out, but it was a huge loss for us, as we were using it as an infirmary." She sighed. "Poppy needs potions that were left behind - specifically antidotes to some newer poisons - and some ingredients that are hard to come by, as well. Severus can get them again, but…"
"It will take more time than you might have." Draco finished the thought for her. "Why do you need me for this?"
"The Death Eaters don't guard all the places they've taken from us," Luna said, meeting his eyes again. "But they know this one was important."
"Exactly." Granger was speaking again, but Draco kept his eye contact with Luna, noting to himself that he felt oddly calm. She wasn't in his head and he didn't think she was using any magic to alter his emotions, but something about her was quieting. "Mad-Eye's belief is that you can get in and retrieve the items for us. The Death Eater on guard won't have a reason to doubt you."
Two days later, they apparated onto the bank of a small creek at dusk, far enough away from the safe-house that the crack couldn't be heard. Draco glanced to his right several times, forgetting Lovegood was invisible. It was disconcerting to not know exactly where she was, but he was glad that she had accompanied him instead of Potter, Weasley or Granger. He could concentrate on what he needed to do instead of wondering when they were going to incapacitate him.
If all went well, they'd be back at the intact safe-house within a couple hours, potions and ingredients in tow, and then Draco would have a day to prepare himself to go back. Back to a life of darkness, back to a life with company he'd much rather not have.
If it didn't…well, he'd figure that out later.
Draco stood in silence for several more minutes before there was a light touch along his side and then gentle pressure on his arm. He did as she asked, turning to face her so anybody watching from the vicinity of the house wouldn't notice his lips moving. "What is it?" he murmured. His eyes widened as he felt her press against him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders.
"I think there's somebody else here," she breathed into his ear.
He shut his eyes tightly, willed himself to focus on what she'd said and not how she said it or how good, how soft she felt against him. She smelled like honey, parchment and rain and he wanted to – No. He couldn't go there, couldn't let his mind wander, couldn't afford to be distracted. But most of all he mustn't let her feel that he was already half hard.
"Why do you think that?" he finally ground out, balling his hands into fists at his side, trying to calm himself.
"I don't know. I just …feel something." She paused. "I'm not sure who is here, but I don't think they're alone. Just be careful."
"You too." He kept his eyes closed and his hands still until he felt her step back. He missed the warmth of her touch immediately. "Take the right; I'll take the left. I shouldn't have any problems with whomever they've got here, but keep your eyes on them anyway. I'll be in and out of the house as quickly as possible."
He felt cold as he walked around to the front of the house, even though he'd been perfectly fine just moments earlier. Something wasn't right. He stopped short at the sight before him, echoes of screams and cries ringing in his head.
There was a Dementor.
Floating right in front of him.
Not a Death Eater.
His hands were clammy and shaking as he fumbled for his wand and he cursed under his breath as he felt it slip through his fingers to the ground. He hadn't been expecting this . The Dementor swooped toward him and he could hear the rattling sound of its breathing. He knew he should pick up his wand and cast his patronus. There were other ways to deal with Dementors but he hadn't learned them yet, and he really wished that he had, because he couldn't bring himself to focus. He needed to focus, needed to conjure that saving light.
He sank to the ground, shivering, as the worst moments of his life played out in his head. He could hear his father's screams again, could see his face in those last seconds. His mother's agonised shrieks. He could feel the terror of everyone he'd been sent to torture. The knot in his throat made it hard to swallow and he was gasping for air. The Dementor was directly before him now, beginning to lower its hood.
Light exploded on his right side and he saw a hare running furiously across the yard, its eyes narrowed with intense concentration as it slid between himself and the dementor. The dark shape flew backward and disappeared with the last remnants of daylight. Satisfied it was gone, the hare turned toward Draco and seemed to be waiting for him to recover. He grabbed his wand and pushed himself shakily to his feet, still gasping for breath.
A scream rang out from the other side of the house and he looked from the hare to the direction the scream had come from.
" Lovegood, " he choked out her name, stumbling forward. The hare ran with him until he rounded the corner and then it dissipated, leaving him to his own devices to help Luna.
She lay on the ground, her body bound by ropes that were tightening the more she moved. A Death Eater stood over her, making slashing movements with their wand. His back was to Draco, so he was unsure if this was somebody he knew, but at the moment he didn't care.
Draco didn't bother to speak, just pointed his wand and cast silently. Only when he heard the soft grunt of his spell hitting home did he smile.
The Death Eater stumbled backwards, dropping his wand. He was clutching at his front, confused as to what happened and why he was bleeding from so many spots on his chest and stomach. With a high pitched shriek he crumbled to the floor, dead. Draco stepped past him, not bothering to look down at him, and kneeled beside Luna. "Are you okay?"
She was bruised and bleeding from her shoulder, but she nodded as Draco began to undo the rope binding her. Neither spoke until he was done and had helped Luna to her feet, assessing her for any further damage. She was shivering from shock and had burn-marks from the rope, but there didn't appear to be any life-threatening injuries.
He glanced down at his own hands. They were still shaking. "I'm sorry. You should never have been attacked - you wouldn't have been, if you hadn't had to save me."
"You don't need to apologise for things beyond your control, Draco." Luna stepped closer to him. Her shivering had slowed and the warmth from her body was comforting to him. He always felt cold to his core when he killed anyone, disgusted with himself for doing it. This death was one he could feel good about, because the witch looking at him with nothing but trust in her eyes deserved nothing less. He would take on the world for her already.
"I knew there was something here. I told you. I just didn't know what. We couldn't have been prepared for everything." She checked for her wand behind her ear, sneaking a glance at the body behind him.
He nodded but didn't say anything else as she closed the gap between their bodies, leaning into him and cupping his jaw with one hand. He was still as she raised herself up on her toes to give him a quick kiss on his cheek. Draco was so unaccustomed to anyone's touch these days that he was torn between annoyance at her casualness and astonishment that she’d want to get that close to him.
Earlier her closeness and touch had been different - he hadn't been able to see her. How else was she to let him know where she was? But now? His heart was hammering in his chest and he wanted so badly to freeze the moment so he could live in it forever and remember what it felt like to feel alive .
"Thank you for saving me." She pulled her hand back from his face and glanced toward the front door of the house. "Shall we go in?"
"Please."
He settled into a pattern over the summer and his days seemed to fly by in a blur. There were never periods of downtime; something was always happening. There were Death Eater meetings, Order meetings, raids on both ends, potion brewing with Severus…
He had finally proven himself to the Order sufficiently enough to be given access to Grimmauld Place and it only took a couple nights for him to wish that he didn’t have to go there. The screaming portrait of Walburga Black was atrocious and set off by every little thing and Potter was always popping up when Draco didn’t expect him. The only thing he liked about headquarters was Luna.
“Have you heard a word I’ve said?” Pansy huffed. “This is the first time we’ve gotten alone with you in ages, and you can’t even be bothered.”
“Oh shut it, Pansy.” Blaise sounded bored. He flipped a page in the book he was reading and looked up. “He’s been like this for weeks now.”
“I’ve been like what for weeks?” Draco shifted on the couch to have a better look at his friends. Were they even still friends? He couldn’t be honest with them about anything; even if he suspected they might share his mindset, they’d all been taught to be the perfect little Slytherins for their whole lives.
“Utterly distracted.” Theo stopped whittling the chunk of wood he was holding. “Whenever you’re here, anyway.”
“I’ve been on assignments nonstop all summer,” Draco snapped. “I can’t exactly tell the Dark Lord I can’t do something because I need to spend time with you lot. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to stay alive.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, mate.” Theo exchanged a glance with Blaise and Pansy. “Just meant that you act like you fancy someone. You’ve got the same look you did at school when there was a witch you wanted to…."
"It's alright if you're seeing someone." Blaise set his book down. "You don't have to lie about assignments all the time, though."
"I'm…not." Draco felt his cheeks flush. He couldn't tell them about her without putting her - and the Order - in danger, although he wished he could. He'd been thinking about the kiss on his cheek every day since it had happened.
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Well, I hope she makes you happy."
The fire was hot, licking up the walls of the house rapidly and without hesitation. They hadn't even had to use magic to encourage it. If it didn't die out, it would incinerate the bodies inside and nobody would be suspicious of the deaths. All the Muggle authorities would say was that it appeared there had been faulty wiring in the house and it was tragic that all four members of the family were home when the fire broke out.
It made Draco want to throw up.
Working with the Order helped, slightly; he'd been able to save some lives already. But for every witch or wizard that he spared, it seemed double the Muggles were killed.
"Did you hear that?" Dolohov turned to him.
Draco shook his head. "I can only hear the fire."
"There was a crack. Sounded like somebody apparating." The older man scowled and motioned toward the third Death Eater. "Byrne, with me. Check the perimeter. Malfoy, wait here."
They disappeared into the darkness quickly and quietly. Once he couldn't see them anymore, Draco turned to survey the area behind him. He hadn't heard anything, but he had no doubt Dolohov had; he shouldn't have let himself get so lost in his thoughts.
Movement caught his eye, and he turned back around to face the house. He could make out the shape of a witch with light hair and his heart stopped. With the burning house behind her, he could see the other Death Eaters coming back and they saw her too. He had no time to shout anything to her and he couldn't hear what Dolohov shouted, just saw the jet of dark blue light shoot from his wand and hit Luna's back.
She pitched forward, reaching out as though she was grasping for him, and he felt as though a rope was thrown around his middle, yanking him towards her. He stumbled forward, his legs unsteady, sure that he shouldn't go to her and raise more suspicion, but unable to stop.
Draco reached Luna before the other men did. She was crumpled on the ground but still breathing; she appeared unharmed. He didn't dare touch her while they had an audience, so he stood looking down at her, his arms crossed in front of him, until Dolohov and Byrne reached them.
"What did you hit her with?" Draco tried to sound bored.
"Binding spell." Dolohov nudged Luna's shoulder with one of his boots, checking to see if she was conscious. "We have the rest of the assignment to do and she'll just slow us down. Byrne and I can finish while you stay here and make sure this goes as planned. Anywhere one of you goes, the other will go, so it should make it easier for you to keep her here."
"I'll just take her back to the manor, then, when the fire's out." Draco sighed and walked around Luna in a slow circle. "We can meet there and give our report."
Dolohov nodded. "Perhaps the Dark Lord will let you have her when we've finished the report. She is pretty."
Draco felt sick at the words but forced himself to give a slow smile and knelt down to examine her. "She is. I think she'd do nicely."
"I'll transfer the spell to you, which means you're the only one who will be able to lift it." Draco stopped walking to listen to Dolohov better over the roar of the fire. "I don't want to risk it malfunctioning and bringing both of you with me."
They finished talking about the particulars of the rest of the assignment before Dolohov and Byrne disapparated. Draco went back to Luna's side the moment they left. He'd seen the hare charm bracelet on her wrist when he'd been pretending to evaluate her and knew it had a protean charm on it. Most of the Order didn't have similar bracelets because they used their patronuses to send messages, or were able to get back to headquarters quickly, but Luna was often working out in the field. Hermione had created charms for those who wanted them, to be activated with a twist of the animal's head. It would let the Order know the user was in trouble and going to a safe house.
Draco wasn't sure how long it would take for them to get to the safe house, but he gave the little golden hare a twist and sat down at Luna's side to wait for her to wake up.
Their little cottage on the cliffside of Robin Hood's Bay was small but cosy. They'd been there for over a month and it had been one of the best months of Draco's life.
The fishing village itself was small, its streets steep and narrow. There were plenty of pubs - not that he frequented them often - as well as cafes and boutique shops. Luna had found a greenhouse she adored and visited at least once a week. The muggles were friendly, although they mostly kept to themselves, and there weren't too many automobiles. There were only two car parks and they filled up quickly, particularly on weekends, when couples and their children explored the village and the beach.
The beach was Luna's favourite part. At low tide, a hidden beach appeared, and she loved to walk along the sand exposed by the receding water, examining all the debris left behind. It was usually just seaweed and rocks, but she'd found some old pieces of driftwood that she'd really liked too. They sat nicely amongst her plants on their stands and on the small bookcase in the sitting room.
The two of them usually walked down to the beach and back together, and he let her have her time alone down there as he watched her. She had been happier since they started the practice, and this evening she’d been glowing.
“You know the older couple I met last week, Ben and Mary?” She’d slipped her hand into his as she asked, smiling up at him. This was part of their cover here; they were newlyweds staying in the family cottage on a long holiday.
“Yes?” He barely remembered any of the people she talked about; he was focused on the feeling of her hand in his.
“They said they’ve got a grandchild on the way!”
“That’s great!” He smiled over at her and found himself continuing before he could stop himself. “Do you want children someday?”
She was quiet for a long moment. “I do,” she finally said, as the cottage came into view. “Do you?”
“Yes.” His throat was so dry the word sounded strangled.
He was thinking of that conversation as he leaned back in his bed, hand wrapped around himself. He’d been half-hard since dinner, counting down the minutes until he could make it into his room. It was going to be a quick wank.
He gave a couple slow pumps, letting his palm create some friction, and looked down as he pulled the foreskin back. He’d never given much thought to what anyone else thought of what he looked like, and the girls he’d been with certainly hadn’t complained, but what would Luna think? He was about average in length, and thick - did she prefer thin?
He ran his fingers down the underside of his cock, tracing the veins, and cupped his balls. He was completely hard and thinking every dirty thought he tried to contain while around Luna.
Thoughts about how he constantly wanted to hitch up her dresses and skirts and bury himself deep in her. How he wanted to taste her, to kiss her, to wreck her entire body until she couldn’t move. He wanted to rip her jumpers off and see if her breasts would really fill his hand like he thought. He wanted her in this bed with him.
He would manage if it never happened. He would content himself with what she had already given him. When he was near her, he felt quiet. He felt like he’d come home. If his mother were there, she’d tell him he was in love, but it went beyond that. He didn’t know how he knew, but something told him he was meant for her.
But behind that closed door, when he was alone, he would give into his thoughts and fantasies.
He ran his thumb over the head of his cock, swirling the precum and running his hand back down. He closed his eyes, thinking of the softness of Luna’s hands, imagining her wrapped around him, or sliding down on him. He rolled his hips and thrust up, imagining her saying his name.
He was so hard it hurt, so close , and then—
“Can I help?”
His eyes shot open, his hand frozen. Luna stood in the doorway, looking slowly from his cock to his face, and Draco groaned.
“I’m sorry for coming in, I just….” She closed the door behind her and moved to the side of the bed. “Do you ever feel like you just can’t stay away from someone? Like you’re being pulled to them no matter what?”
“Yes. You.” Draco looked at her, brow furrowed. His cock bobbed as he shifted his weight and he sighed. “I just…didn’t think we’d talk about it like this.”
"Do you think it's the binding spell?"
"No." He shook his head, thinking of all the little moments that had made him fall in love with her, even without realizing it. "That may have…enhanced it, a bit. But I would feel that way for you regardless."
"Me too." She stood and pulled her wand from behind her ear. "We forgot to update the Order this morning."
They had been sending weekly messages to headquarters, even though they had very minimal information to convey. It was more for peace of mind, Draco thought, so that everyone knew they were still alive. He was usually reading when Luna sent her patronus off with the missive, as she liked to do it early in the morning, and he liked to have time alone with his tea and a book.
She conjured her patronus quickly and Draco blinked at the form standing in the room with them. He had seen her patronus before; it had been a hare. This was no hare. The Thestral was slightly smaller than his own, a bit more dainty, but he'd argue more beautiful, too.
"Luna, your patronus…" He blinked. "It's changed."
She smiled over at him and gave her report, then sent the missive on its way. She didn't speak for a while, though she climbed over him on the bed, settling over his lap and ignoring his quiet gasp. She cupped his jaw like she had on their first excursion. But this time, she leaned forward and kissed him properly.
Draco forgot about everything else.
He forgot about the Order and the Death Eaters, and how he was going to have to figure out how to spin things to the Dark Lord to make it seem believable that he'd been taken as a hostage. Severus would help him with that anyway. He forgot about the notes he'd been making on attack strategies and ways to adapt spells to suit both Potter and the Order.
He forgot about everything but Luna and the way her lips tasted like strawberries, or the way her body felt so soft against him. They kissed deeply, like they couldn't get enough of each other, for what felt like minutes and an hour simultaneously. Draco groaned when she pulled back from him but his disappointment was short-lived.
He had dropped his hand from his cock when Luna had climbed onto the bed and felt it bob painfully every time either of them moved, but he'd been powerless to do anything about it for the moment. But now that she'd sat back, he was painfully aware of his need for release and oddly hesitant to take himself in hand again.
As if she were reading his thoughts, Luna leaned forward the slightest bit and wrapped her fingers around him. He was so slick her hand met no resistance as she began to move it up and down him, slowly at first but taking a cue from him and speeding up as his hips began to buck up from the mattress. She applied the perfect amount of pressure for him, and he nearly whimpered from how badly he wanted - no, needed - to come.
It was going to be the sort of orgasm he was going to fall asleep from, the sort dragged out from his very core, taking all of him with it. "Luna, I– I'm not going to be able to… you… " He was panting the words, trying to get his thoughts out.
"That's quite alright." She slid her hand all the way to his base and used her other to cup his balls, fondling them as her other hand kept moving. "You need this."
He felt his breath hitch and his balls tightened, and then his orgasm slammed into him harder than any he could remember having before. He moaned Luna's name as he came, his eyes rolling back and hips arcing up. He could feel his come land on his stomach and his thighs as he pulsed in Luna's hand. She held him until his breathing had slowed and he'd begun to go soft.
He forced his eyes open when he could start to form thoughts again and there was movement on the bed. He felt as though he'd melted and sleep had never seemed so appealing, but he wasn't alone; he felt Luna settle against his side. He looked at the come pooling on his skin and then turned his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of Luna's head.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” she murmured.
There was so much he wanted to tell her. So much he wanted to do for her, starting by settling between her thighs and making her come on his tongue. But for the moment, this was enough.
He would give her the life she deserved, once this war was over.
“There’s something I’ve been wondering about.” Draco felt slightly bad, as though he were ambushing Luna, but the words just slipped out as he rose from between her legs to lay beside her.
She hadn’t even quite caught her breath yet; her chest rose and fell quickly and he could see the flush still in her cheeks. He wanted to slip over her, take her nipples in his mouth in turn and finally…. finally slip inside her. He’d wanted to that morning, but she’d taken care of him again, and he’d repaid the favour before their usual morning walk.
They landed in his bed immediately after the walk and he’d wasted no time in sliding her dress off, pushing her to the bed and settling his mouth on her.
“What’s that, then?” Luna turned to him a couple minutes later.
“How did you know where I’d be that night?” Draco felt his heartbeat quicken. “I didn’t tell any of the Order.”
“Severus said he thought that they were going to torture you for fun later that night.” She met his gaze and then looked back up at the ceiling, whispering. “But he didn’t know where any of you were. He didn’t know who you were with, either, and he said he couldn’t really ask.”
He couldn’t say he was surprised; Aunt Bella was probably behind the idea.
“I….” Luna rolled to her side, looking at him earnestly. “I don’t know how I found you. I just felt like I had to find you, and I thought about how much I didn’t want to see you broken. And then I found your magic and I followed it.”
“You found my magic.” His brow furrowed. There had been a chapter in one of the books he’d found in the library at home about…how did they phrase it? The lores of love? He thought that sounded right. It talked about the ways magic could manifest for soulmates; the bond could change the way some magic was channeled and could make the nearly impossible possible.
Soulmates .
“Luna, when did your Patronus change?”
“It started changing the week before that. Sometimes, my hare would come back.” She reached for his hand, twining her fingers between his. “I think it was waiting for us to be ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“For this.”
He was quiet for a moment and then squeezed her hand. “When I was a boy, I’d ask my mum to tell me stories. Her favourites were romances. I loved them too, but I couldn’t tell my father that. I never told him that I believed soulmates could be real because to him, that stuff doesn’t matter. It’s a bonus that he happens to love his wife. As we’ve grown up, I thought I’d stopped believing in them. What was the point if I was going to have to marry the witch my parents thought best anyway?”
“There are different sorts of soulmates, you know.” Luna gave him an encouraging smile. “Platonic and amorous. If we don’t meet our soulmates, our magic doesn’t change. Not like this, anyway.”
“And now everyone in the Order knows that we….” Draco coughed.
Luna smiled in response, tugging him close to her. “I really would like to know what you feel like inside me,” she whispered against his jaw.
They made quick work of his clothing and then Draco settled over Luna, kissing his way from her neck to her thighs. He was close to making her come again, her hands in his hair, when she gasped out that she wanted him inside her now .
He let out a shaky breath as she reached between them, grabbed him gently, guided him in. Her hand fell away as she gasped, and the sound made him want to lose all restraint.
“This okay?” He whispered as he slid a little deeper.
“Better than okay.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she wound a hand through his hair again. “Kiss me, please. And then don’t hold back.”
He held still for the kiss, expecting it to be soft and quick, but it was long and slow, the sort of kiss that he’d imagined and come to numerous times. And when they’d stopped to breathe, he’d done what she asked.
He could feel her nails digging into his back as he sped up and thrust harder, could hear her little gasps. When she came a few minutes later, he felt something surge and twine between them, but he didn’t stop to think about it. Every slide out of her was as torturous as the thrust in was fantastic.
When he felt his balls tighten, he gave a hard thrust and went as deep as he could, ducking his head and letting out a loud groan as he emptied himself inside her. He felt that sense of otherness again, this time coming from himself. It had been a while for him, but he could say with certainty it had never felt like that.
“That was our magic,” Luna said softly, pushing strands of his damp hair back from his face, reading his confused look and smiling. “You’ve found it now, too.”
He was standing in the kitchen looking at his Patronus when Luna found him later, a cup of tea in his hands and a tear splattered piece of muggle paper in front of him.
“I wish I could tell them about you,” he said hoarsely.
Maybe one day, when this war was over, being soulmates could be celebrated beyond the walls and roof of this house.
Until then, he wanted to learn everything he could about his.