Post-War Shorts
Feb. 24th, 2007 11:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morgynleriSeries Title: After the War
Story Title: Draco & Luna I
Word Count: 2137
Status: Complete
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG13
Commentary: Characterization, how well it draws you in, interaction.
Draco paced the small room, a scowl on his face. He'd run through the books the little Ravenclaw had left in his hiding space again, not that they provided much entertainment. Read the books, twice in some cases, and remeasured the pace of his self-imposed prison. Rearranged his meager furniture three times, and gotten entirely bored with the deck of Muggle playing cards she'd left for him.
"Bloody wench. Where are you?" he muttered to himself, pausing in his pacing to run one hand across his unshaven chin, grimacing at the stubble. Another thing to try to have his hostess bring him. A razor, since he couldn't have his wand. Facial hair was something he detested.
Luna sighed as she opened her front door and slipped into her apartment, looking around for any nargles that might be hiding. "Loony Luna" had just about disappeared after the war, the harsh reality of everything that had happened, coupled with her father's murder, had left her a little more bitter, but, still a little flighty. She dropped her briefcase, containing articles for the next issue of the Quibbler. She pulled a hair tie out, letting her hair down and walking to the small room where Malfoy was kept in. She wasn't quite sure why he stayed with her, or why she let him... she just did. "Draco?" she asked softly.
Draco let out a growl when he heard the Ravenclaw call his name. "You were supposed to be back an hour ago, Lovegood. What the bloody hell kept you?" He glanced down at his robes, futilely neatening the threadbare garments. He'd never have allowed his robes to come to this before the war. Before his father had destroyed the Dark Lord's trust in the Malfoy name. Before he'd found he didn't have the stomach to follow in Lucius' footsteps.
He wouldn't have allowed himself to be dependent on anyone before then, either. Especially not Lovegood. He supposed it could be worse. He could have a smirking Weasley holding his dependance over his head. Draco ran a hand through his hair to try and get some of the tangles out of the long strands,
"I need a shave. And a bath. Not a rag and a basin."
Luna sighed and shook her head. "I got caught up." She said simply, turning away from the doorway, moving the small bookcase that hid the door from the naked eye.
She hadn't really been able to let him use most of her flat, mainly because her job was pretty high-profile, and there were always people watching her. But, perhaps, she should've let him out more often. After all, hygiene was important. She sighed, taking a seat down in the chair across from the bathroom and kitchen areas. "Bookcase is moved. You can come out. I don't bite. Although... the nargles might."
"There are no such creatures, Lovegood." Draco peered out of the room suspiciously for a moment before setting foot in the hallway, rapidly making his way towards the bathroom. With any luck, Lovegood had a razor in her possession that he could make use of. After a long bath and soak to rid himself of the accumulated dirt, and relax the muscles knotted tight from stress.
He paused outside the bathroom, a reluctant feeling niggling at the back of his mind. "I..." he trailed off, gritting his teeth against the unfamiliar words. "I apologize for snapping earlier." He let it all out in a rush. He couldn't afford to actually offend her, and possibly end up on the street where the Ministry could pick him up.
Luna smiled and tilted her head softly as she watched him move towards the bathroom. "Apology accepted. I understand your frustration. Go bathe, Draco." Luna sighed and leaned back before standing again. "I'm going to make dinner." She said firmly, very matter-of-factly.
Draco nodded distractedly, closing the door to the bathroom behind him, his attention focused on restoring his standards of beauty, as much as posible. It wouldn't do to have the Ministry catch up and have him look like they hauled him out of a miserable little hovel. No, he would not allow himself to drag the Malfoy name further into the muck than his father already had.
Luna aimlessly began to organize things in her kitchen with a flick of her wand, watching as ingredients started to come together while she heard the sound of water running from the bathroom. Malfoy had a foul temper, that was for certain. Perhaps it was time that he showed his face once again... but, no. Of course he couldn't. That would be impossible.
Draco leaned back in the tub, closing his eyes as he soaked in the blissfully hot water. He heard the faint sounds of Lovegood making dinner, but dismissed them to the back of his mind once he'd identified them. Cooking was a job for others, and never to be worried about. No, his concerns focused on finding a way to ensure that once the Ministry's hunt for former Death Eaters had died down, he could bring the Malfoy name back to the prominance and prestige it deserved.
He shifted in the water as it began to cool slightly, reaching for the razor and the can of Muggle stuff that passed for shaving cream, the small mirror next to the tub silent as he began the ritual of shaving the irritation of a beard from his face. He really needed to remind Lovegood that he prefered the proper, traditional equipment, if she'd bother to purchase it.
Luna finally finished making dinner, charming the plates to the plain coffee table in her small apartment, and she sighed, walking back over to the bathroom. She leaned over, knocking on the door swiftly and clearing her throat. "Dinner, Malfoy. Hurry before it gets cold." She said simply, turning and sitting down to begin eating without him. Maybe she could try to clear his name through the Quibbler... like they'd done with Harry Potter. Anything to get him out of her house.
Draco pulled on a clean set of robes, a sneer twisting his face as he looked in the mirror. They were more grey than black, and the fabric looked fragile and thin where it shouldn't. The boots didn't shine, and he lacked cravat or gloves. He turned away, stalking out of the bathroom after gathering his pride around him to shield himself.
"I can only hope your cooking skills have improved since the last time you actually cooked, instead of bringing home whatever slop you can acquire at some Muggle hole." He settled into the seat across from her, spreading the napkin neatly over his lap. Manners had to be observed, even in the company he kept now. A lesson he knew his mother had despaired he'd ever learn.
Luna simply looked up at him, a very matter-of-fact expression on her face. "You could always eat somewhere else." She said simply, smiling politely before going back to eating.
"If you would be so kind as to point out a place that I might do so, with the level of quality I am accustomed to, I would, Lovegood." Draco's nostrils flared as he drew in the scents of the food. Even when he enjoyed it, he rarely let her know. His nature didn't allow for such shows of kindness to those who served, no matter how dependent he was on her willingness to shelter him.
Luna simply shrugged and continued to eat. Malfoy was staying here because she had been kind enough to let him, and she really didn't care what happened to him afterwards. Or did she? Why was she letting him stay? She took another bite of her food, then glanced up at him. "It's not my job to direct you where to go, I'm only your landlady." She smirked.
Draco scowled, setting his fork down with more force than neccessary, the metal rattling against the ceramic plate. "A Malfoy does not rent, like some petty city merchant."
"Very true, otherwise I would've received payment by now. Instead, you are a free-loader," Luna said softly, putting her plate down, folding her hands onto her lap and leaning closer to him.
"What do you want from me?" Draco dragged the words out, hating the sensation of being caught helpless in a trap he didn't spot until too late. Even if perhaps one of his own making, this time.
"A simple, sincere, 'thank you for harboring my wanted self' for all this time would have sufficed." Luna said, and she brought up a single finger. "Believing in nargles is more realistic than believing you can honestly be sincere, Malfoy. You do not care about me, or this home, only about your name. Which means nothing right now." She said all of this with a very simple air about her, as if she was talking about a grocery list.
Draco tightened his jaw, grinding his teeth together as Lovegood spoke, her words acid in his ears despite her calm and rational tone.
"I shouldn't have to be thanking you for keeping me out of the hands of those fools at the Ministry. I shouldn't have to be concerned about restoring the glory my family deserves, and the prestige that the Malfoy family has enjoyed for the last seven and a half centuries, Lovegood." He stood as he spoke, dropping the napkin on the table next to his plate, his gaze meeting hers with anger boiling dangerously close to the surface.
"My only concern should be marrying a proper pure-blood woman, and siring an heir for the oldest living pure-blood family in Britain. My father destroyed that name before I even had the chance to realize the idiocy of that half-blood upstart. Put my mother at risk, and ruined my life. All I did was protect what remained of my family the best I could."
He began to pace, his temper sinking claws into his mind, dragging out all the bitter anger he'd harbored in the last year.
"For this, I am branded as nothing more than some common murderer, the follower of a deranged mad-man who proved incapable against an untrained child. And in the end, my mother is still dead, and my father a fool rotting in Azkaban. A failure, a stain on a family name he taught me to hold above anything else."
"I have nothing to thank anyone for. What use is thanking someone for keeping me alive when I can do nothing to return to the life I deserve? Why should I thank you for keeping me out of Azkaban, when all I can do is read books I know all too well, and pace a room little better than a cell?" He knew that he shouldn't blame her for his predicament, but those he could hold responsible were all out of reach, save one. And he would never admit his own faults in front of someone else, least of all someone whom he depended on. It would make it all too easy for that person to use those flaws against him.
Luna considered his words rationally, but, to her, they made little sense. She could understand where he was coming from, but she didn't understand why it was so important to him. She watched him pace, leaning back, and she followed him with her gaze until he finished speaking. Finally, she stood, walking over to him, simply crossing her arms over her chest. "Maybe you should stop thinking about your name, and think about who you are. You talk about wanting a better life, but you've done nothing to prove to anyone, in your actions or otherwise, that you even deserve freedom. Especially not to me... and I'm keeping you here."
Draco stared at her for a long moment, fury contorting his features in a snarl that made his pointed face ugly. "Who I am? I am a Malfoy. Pure of blood, wealth not seen anywhere else this side of hell, and supposed to be the most powerful wizard of our world. Politically and socially and of magic. All of this, stolen by a half-blood bastard and an idiot child! Every bit of fame Potter ever had he stole from others. From his mother, from the Dark Lord, and from me."
He reached out to grab her shoulder, shaking her sharply, his gaze boring into hers. "I am the only protector my family has left, and I can do nothing. NOTHING! I have nothing, I can do nothing, and I am supposed to take it with a smile, and think about who I am. Stupid, idiot little Ravenclaw. Can't you see beyond your fantasies and your rag of a publication? Who I am matters nothing against who and what my family is supposed to be!"
Story Title: Draco & Luna I
Word Count: 2137
Status: Complete
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG13
Commentary: Characterization, how well it draws you in, interaction.
Draco paced the small room, a scowl on his face. He'd run through the books the little Ravenclaw had left in his hiding space again, not that they provided much entertainment. Read the books, twice in some cases, and remeasured the pace of his self-imposed prison. Rearranged his meager furniture three times, and gotten entirely bored with the deck of Muggle playing cards she'd left for him.
"Bloody wench. Where are you?" he muttered to himself, pausing in his pacing to run one hand across his unshaven chin, grimacing at the stubble. Another thing to try to have his hostess bring him. A razor, since he couldn't have his wand. Facial hair was something he detested.
Luna sighed as she opened her front door and slipped into her apartment, looking around for any nargles that might be hiding. "Loony Luna" had just about disappeared after the war, the harsh reality of everything that had happened, coupled with her father's murder, had left her a little more bitter, but, still a little flighty. She dropped her briefcase, containing articles for the next issue of the Quibbler. She pulled a hair tie out, letting her hair down and walking to the small room where Malfoy was kept in. She wasn't quite sure why he stayed with her, or why she let him... she just did. "Draco?" she asked softly.
Draco let out a growl when he heard the Ravenclaw call his name. "You were supposed to be back an hour ago, Lovegood. What the bloody hell kept you?" He glanced down at his robes, futilely neatening the threadbare garments. He'd never have allowed his robes to come to this before the war. Before his father had destroyed the Dark Lord's trust in the Malfoy name. Before he'd found he didn't have the stomach to follow in Lucius' footsteps.
He wouldn't have allowed himself to be dependent on anyone before then, either. Especially not Lovegood. He supposed it could be worse. He could have a smirking Weasley holding his dependance over his head. Draco ran a hand through his hair to try and get some of the tangles out of the long strands,
"I need a shave. And a bath. Not a rag and a basin."
Luna sighed and shook her head. "I got caught up." She said simply, turning away from the doorway, moving the small bookcase that hid the door from the naked eye.
She hadn't really been able to let him use most of her flat, mainly because her job was pretty high-profile, and there were always people watching her. But, perhaps, she should've let him out more often. After all, hygiene was important. She sighed, taking a seat down in the chair across from the bathroom and kitchen areas. "Bookcase is moved. You can come out. I don't bite. Although... the nargles might."
"There are no such creatures, Lovegood." Draco peered out of the room suspiciously for a moment before setting foot in the hallway, rapidly making his way towards the bathroom. With any luck, Lovegood had a razor in her possession that he could make use of. After a long bath and soak to rid himself of the accumulated dirt, and relax the muscles knotted tight from stress.
He paused outside the bathroom, a reluctant feeling niggling at the back of his mind. "I..." he trailed off, gritting his teeth against the unfamiliar words. "I apologize for snapping earlier." He let it all out in a rush. He couldn't afford to actually offend her, and possibly end up on the street where the Ministry could pick him up.
Luna smiled and tilted her head softly as she watched him move towards the bathroom. "Apology accepted. I understand your frustration. Go bathe, Draco." Luna sighed and leaned back before standing again. "I'm going to make dinner." She said firmly, very matter-of-factly.
Draco nodded distractedly, closing the door to the bathroom behind him, his attention focused on restoring his standards of beauty, as much as posible. It wouldn't do to have the Ministry catch up and have him look like they hauled him out of a miserable little hovel. No, he would not allow himself to drag the Malfoy name further into the muck than his father already had.
Luna aimlessly began to organize things in her kitchen with a flick of her wand, watching as ingredients started to come together while she heard the sound of water running from the bathroom. Malfoy had a foul temper, that was for certain. Perhaps it was time that he showed his face once again... but, no. Of course he couldn't. That would be impossible.
Draco leaned back in the tub, closing his eyes as he soaked in the blissfully hot water. He heard the faint sounds of Lovegood making dinner, but dismissed them to the back of his mind once he'd identified them. Cooking was a job for others, and never to be worried about. No, his concerns focused on finding a way to ensure that once the Ministry's hunt for former Death Eaters had died down, he could bring the Malfoy name back to the prominance and prestige it deserved.
He shifted in the water as it began to cool slightly, reaching for the razor and the can of Muggle stuff that passed for shaving cream, the small mirror next to the tub silent as he began the ritual of shaving the irritation of a beard from his face. He really needed to remind Lovegood that he prefered the proper, traditional equipment, if she'd bother to purchase it.
Luna finally finished making dinner, charming the plates to the plain coffee table in her small apartment, and she sighed, walking back over to the bathroom. She leaned over, knocking on the door swiftly and clearing her throat. "Dinner, Malfoy. Hurry before it gets cold." She said simply, turning and sitting down to begin eating without him. Maybe she could try to clear his name through the Quibbler... like they'd done with Harry Potter. Anything to get him out of her house.
Draco pulled on a clean set of robes, a sneer twisting his face as he looked in the mirror. They were more grey than black, and the fabric looked fragile and thin where it shouldn't. The boots didn't shine, and he lacked cravat or gloves. He turned away, stalking out of the bathroom after gathering his pride around him to shield himself.
"I can only hope your cooking skills have improved since the last time you actually cooked, instead of bringing home whatever slop you can acquire at some Muggle hole." He settled into the seat across from her, spreading the napkin neatly over his lap. Manners had to be observed, even in the company he kept now. A lesson he knew his mother had despaired he'd ever learn.
Luna simply looked up at him, a very matter-of-fact expression on her face. "You could always eat somewhere else." She said simply, smiling politely before going back to eating.
"If you would be so kind as to point out a place that I might do so, with the level of quality I am accustomed to, I would, Lovegood." Draco's nostrils flared as he drew in the scents of the food. Even when he enjoyed it, he rarely let her know. His nature didn't allow for such shows of kindness to those who served, no matter how dependent he was on her willingness to shelter him.
Luna simply shrugged and continued to eat. Malfoy was staying here because she had been kind enough to let him, and she really didn't care what happened to him afterwards. Or did she? Why was she letting him stay? She took another bite of her food, then glanced up at him. "It's not my job to direct you where to go, I'm only your landlady." She smirked.
Draco scowled, setting his fork down with more force than neccessary, the metal rattling against the ceramic plate. "A Malfoy does not rent, like some petty city merchant."
"Very true, otherwise I would've received payment by now. Instead, you are a free-loader," Luna said softly, putting her plate down, folding her hands onto her lap and leaning closer to him.
"What do you want from me?" Draco dragged the words out, hating the sensation of being caught helpless in a trap he didn't spot until too late. Even if perhaps one of his own making, this time.
"A simple, sincere, 'thank you for harboring my wanted self' for all this time would have sufficed." Luna said, and she brought up a single finger. "Believing in nargles is more realistic than believing you can honestly be sincere, Malfoy. You do not care about me, or this home, only about your name. Which means nothing right now." She said all of this with a very simple air about her, as if she was talking about a grocery list.
Draco tightened his jaw, grinding his teeth together as Lovegood spoke, her words acid in his ears despite her calm and rational tone.
"I shouldn't have to be thanking you for keeping me out of the hands of those fools at the Ministry. I shouldn't have to be concerned about restoring the glory my family deserves, and the prestige that the Malfoy family has enjoyed for the last seven and a half centuries, Lovegood." He stood as he spoke, dropping the napkin on the table next to his plate, his gaze meeting hers with anger boiling dangerously close to the surface.
"My only concern should be marrying a proper pure-blood woman, and siring an heir for the oldest living pure-blood family in Britain. My father destroyed that name before I even had the chance to realize the idiocy of that half-blood upstart. Put my mother at risk, and ruined my life. All I did was protect what remained of my family the best I could."
He began to pace, his temper sinking claws into his mind, dragging out all the bitter anger he'd harbored in the last year.
"For this, I am branded as nothing more than some common murderer, the follower of a deranged mad-man who proved incapable against an untrained child. And in the end, my mother is still dead, and my father a fool rotting in Azkaban. A failure, a stain on a family name he taught me to hold above anything else."
"I have nothing to thank anyone for. What use is thanking someone for keeping me alive when I can do nothing to return to the life I deserve? Why should I thank you for keeping me out of Azkaban, when all I can do is read books I know all too well, and pace a room little better than a cell?" He knew that he shouldn't blame her for his predicament, but those he could hold responsible were all out of reach, save one. And he would never admit his own faults in front of someone else, least of all someone whom he depended on. It would make it all too easy for that person to use those flaws against him.
Luna considered his words rationally, but, to her, they made little sense. She could understand where he was coming from, but she didn't understand why it was so important to him. She watched him pace, leaning back, and she followed him with her gaze until he finished speaking. Finally, she stood, walking over to him, simply crossing her arms over her chest. "Maybe you should stop thinking about your name, and think about who you are. You talk about wanting a better life, but you've done nothing to prove to anyone, in your actions or otherwise, that you even deserve freedom. Especially not to me... and I'm keeping you here."
Draco stared at her for a long moment, fury contorting his features in a snarl that made his pointed face ugly. "Who I am? I am a Malfoy. Pure of blood, wealth not seen anywhere else this side of hell, and supposed to be the most powerful wizard of our world. Politically and socially and of magic. All of this, stolen by a half-blood bastard and an idiot child! Every bit of fame Potter ever had he stole from others. From his mother, from the Dark Lord, and from me."
He reached out to grab her shoulder, shaking her sharply, his gaze boring into hers. "I am the only protector my family has left, and I can do nothing. NOTHING! I have nothing, I can do nothing, and I am supposed to take it with a smile, and think about who I am. Stupid, idiot little Ravenclaw. Can't you see beyond your fantasies and your rag of a publication? Who I am matters nothing against who and what my family is supposed to be!"
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Date: 2007-02-25 11:08 am (UTC)Luna has backbone and it's obvious here. Would she stand for his physically handling her as he has, though? I'm not sure. It's also not clear why she's harboring him in the first place, but that can come later, right? Always good to whet the appetite but leave them hungry.