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fanfiction, fic: far away as moonshine, writing

Far Away as Moonshine 6/28
Title: Far Away as Moonshine, Part I: Malfoy Manor
Author: zephre
Rating: PG-13 (R for whole fic)
Prompt: 100quills table 50.2: His
Word Count: 1,382
Summary: For Draco Malfoy, the war was one endless nightmare. Until Luna Lovegood gave him a reason to hope. Can he find his courage, make his luck, and become more than a pawn to those in power?
Warnings: (for whole fic, highlight to view) *mature themes, imprisonment, mention of rape, abuse, battlefield violence, various canon and other character deaths, sexual situations*
Notes: The story has three parts, each broken into chapters. The title is from the song, "Street of Dreams" by Oysterband.
Chapter Index:
Part I:   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Part II:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Part III: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Epilogue

Chapter 6: In which Malfoys make many assumptions


Draco's mother cornered him after lunch, which was a tense and mostly silent 'family' meal with Bellatrix, Rabastan, and Rudolphus attending. Bellatrix delighted in finding flaws with the Malfoy hospitality, but on this occasion she was obviously - and ominously - distracted. Draco tried not to imagine what the afternoon would have in store for his aunt, as it would surely kill his appetite.

Lucius had been closer to his old self today, at least, and Draco took some comfort in seeing his father at the head of the table once more.

Narcissa pulled Draco into her parlor as they walked upstairs together from the dining room. "I want to talk to you," she said as she closed the door. "I thought you said you had no designs on the Lovegood girl."

Draco's jaw dropped as he turned. "What? I don't - what do you mean, designs?"

Narcissa set her hands on the back of the nearest chair. "Emmy tells me that the girl's bed wasn't slept in last night. She said you were both in your bed this morning. Is this just a game to you, as it is to Antonin? Will you break her and cast her aside?"

Draco sat down on the sofa with a thump, letting his legs splay to the side. "You think that I would hurt her - would claim her just to, just to rape her in the comfort of my own bed?" He felt sick.

"I won't allow it in this house, Draco. Not from any man, but most especially not you." The expression on her face was all the worse for being directed at Draco. He had seen her direct her contempt at Muggle-loving politicians, at the common crowds in Diagon Alley, even at followers of the Dark Lord with less rank. It hurt to be the sole focus of it now.

"Mother, I haven't - I could never -" Doubtless his uncles would believe it more cowardice on his part, but he was Narcissa's son, after all, and some pureblood traditions were worth upholding. "She was hurt, and she panicked at the thought of being alone. She wouldn't say what had happened to her. I healed her, as much as I could, and I just held her when she cried." He looked at his hands, feeling his cheeks burn, and shrugged. "I don't want to hurt her," he whispered.

The sofa cushion dipped as his mother sat beside him, and her hand entered his line of sight as she clasped his hand in hers. "I see." And something in her voice alerted Draco that perhaps she was assuming too much. He looked up, a denial ready on his lips, but she spoke first. "I do not want you to become like them, Draco," she whispered. "Not like Amycus, or Antonin, or Merlin forbid, Rudolphus. Take Severus as your example if you cannot look to your father. Do you understand me? There are monsters here, but we must not be they."

Draco pulled his hand free and crossed his arms. He hated that he was so pale he could never hide his blush. "Let them all think the worst, what difference will it make? As long as no one else comes near her. I won't let them hurt her again." He was not certain, he could not know yet, what they had done to Luna in the dark of the cellar for ten days. She was not entirely mad, but she was not the Luna he had known either.

Narcissa brushed his hair back from his face, letting her palm rest against his cheek. She had often done so when he was a boy, and then it had been comforting. "Very well then. Give her what ease you can, while you can. The Dark Lord may return at any moment, and there is no certainty. I will make sure that Antonin understands that she is not his to torment, now."

"Did he-" Draco could not even finish the question. The very thought that Dolohov may have abused Luna, even touched her once, was abhorrent. Such gentleness and innocence were not for Dolohov; they were not even for Draco. He felt his fingernails cut into his palms. The sting centered him, helped him keep his outward calm even as his mother's words cut him to the quick.

"He visited her room, and Ollivander's, several times, but what he did there I have not been able to discover. You will have to ask her, Draco." Narcissa sat back, letting her hand fall to her lap.

Draco looked at the mantel. "I tried. I can't ask, and why would she tell me?"

"You can only ask, and be willing to hear her answer. Do not get too attached, Draco, and try to wean her from you. You will be on the Express in January, and she must remain here."

Draco took a deep breath. This was the reality he faced. Luna's safety came only from the tolerance of the Dark Lord's favorites. Draco's own father would give Luna over to torture and slavery if it would gain their Lord's favor and the family's safety once more.

"If we're done?" he asked carefully. "I have some studying to finish in the Library."

Narcissa gave him one last searching look before she nodded sharply in dismissal. He practically ran for the door.

Later, Draco dozed over a book of obscure potions in a curtained window seat in the library. He became aware of voices just within his hearing, and withdrew his wand, silently casting an amplification spell.

His mother and father were in their reading nook three windows away. Draco still cringed slightly to hear the ruin that Azkaban had made of his father's once smooth and cultured voice.

"He is not being contrary, but he is being foolish."

"He has not endangered our place, my sister may even think better of him for it."

"Our Lord will not tolerate distractions, Cissy, and where will all this nonsense get us once the truth of it comes out? We cannot afford to risk His favor on such childish obsessions."

"Oh, you must remember being his age, everything is so much bigger, more important, more passionate. We fought hard, we needed so much, we loved recklessly at his age, too."

"It was different then. This child is not a good match, in any case. She is -"

"A pureblood, and powerful, and clever.  You remember her mother?"

"Hmph. Rees was a right terror when the prefects looked the other way. Clever little bitch."

"And a better duelist than you expected."

"Mm, yes. I still have the scar."

"Her daughter is strong, too. In a war, is there ever a good time to fall in love? We did not time it so very well, did we? But what else gives anyone incentive to go on? Let him have this one thing to defend for himself."

"He will go back to Hogwarts and forget about her."

"Perhaps. But I do not think so."

Draco closed his book and eased out of the window seat, letting the spell end. His head spun as he made for the stairs and the quiet of his rooms.

Love? They thought he was in love with Luna Lovegood? Love was such a soft and gentle concept to encompass his need to possess and protect. His father was right, it was a terrible match. Draco couldn't marry Luna. They could never be together. She was a prisoner, she would never forget that. No matter how pleasant he made her new incarceration she was still a prisoner, the enemy, a blood traitor, her life worth nothing should the Dark Lord choose to interfere. No soft emotions could overcome that horror.

Yet if it were Pansy or Daphne in her place, would Draco feel such longing to see them free? Would the thought of their hurt fill him with guilt and rage? Would he need to make such dangerous reparation for their pain? He'd thought so once, but the truth was no one else besides his parents seemed important enough. Was that love or was it simply obligation? Did it matter? She was not even his friend, let alone his girlfriend, and he was fairly sure he did not love her, but nonetheless Luna was his.

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