Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All of this belongs to J.K. Rowling

A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Melisse

Draco went back to his life, just like he'd told himself he would. He didn't bother sparing a thought for the kooky girl in the weird shop who had healed him. He was better. His headaches were gone, so he had no need of her anymore. She had said she would be okay, too, so he didn't have any obligation to her. In fact, it had been awfully nice of him to have even seen to her comfort enough to pick her up off of the floor, he told himself.

So why did he have this niggling feeling in his chest? He was all right when he was busy and working. He made sure to keep himself occupied all day. At night, though, alone and unguarded, these thoughts kept sneaking past his defenses. They were as bothersome as little gnats that flitted around his head. He kept shooing them away, but a minute later they would resettle.

What if everything he believed in was a lie? What if he wasn't who he thought he was? What was real? What was the nature of reality, then? Draco wasn't usually an introspective guy, and this was the first time he had ever doubted himself. He didn't like the feeling one bit. He didn't like the idea that things were not certain, that he was not king of his kingdom. That was why he had come here, after all. He had left behind everything he had ever known, so that he could have an absolute of at least some kind. Now that girl had shown up and rocked his boat. Well, he couldn't live with that.

When, after three weeks, it became evident that she wasn't going to contact him, and she wasn't going to bill him, Draco got mad. This was not acceptable. How dare she show up in his life, disrupt it like this, and then leave him in the lurch with all of these questions? The only reasonable thing to do would be to go and demand some answers! He intended to do just that.

Draco waited until a Saturday morning, and then showed up on her doorstep. He didn't bother even knocking; he just barged right in. He had worked himself into a temper with each step over, and he was going to give her a piece of his mind. There she was, sitting, calmly sipping something in an earthenware mug, as if she had all the time in the world! The sight of it rankled him unreasonably, and his ire ratcheted up a notch. "Luna," he nodded at her icily, determined to be the victor this time and not lose his wits.

"Draco?" Luna looked up dreamily, as if he was the last person she expected to see. "Hello!"

"Hello," he sneered. "Just sitting here, enjoying your weekend?"

"Yes, thanks. I know this shop that makes the loveliest baguettes, just down the street. You really ought to try one. Is that why you're here?" Luna smiled in invitation.

Draco's mouth fell open. He had forgotten that she didn't seem to understand sarcasm. Perhaps she really was dull-witted. "No, Luna, don't you remember our previous conversation at all?"

Luna considered. "Not especially, to be truthful. After a healing, I am a bit woozy. Did I say something scandalous? I figured you would be back whenever we agreed." She shrugged. "Here you are, so I suppose I'm right. Want breakfast before we begin?" She held out a plate of pastry.

Draco felt like all the wind had gone right out of his sails. Never had anyone done that to him before. He had always had the upper hand in any conversation or confrontation. This slip of a girl was somehow bulldozing right over him, and she didn't even seem to realize it! He had to do something to regain his ground. The problem was, every time he opened his mouth, he was at a loss. He didn't even know where to begin; he wasn't even that angry anymore. Had she put a spell on him or something? Draco eyed her suspiciously.

"Go on, take one. They're made by this woman who must be part pogrebin, I think. You can't stand near her for too long, and she is a little short. It's the red eyes that give her away, but you just can't beat her baklava." Luna was babbling contentedly and fraying a piece of said delicacy to shards while she concentrated.

"Thank you, no," Draco said stiffly, having forgotten entirely where the thread of the conversation had started. How frustrating.

"Oh, Draco, I must warn you, if you have a notion to get some pastry of your own to steer clear of her for now," Luna added hastily, seeing his face. "Just accept mine, there's plenty. You know how pogrebins can be, even half-blooded ones, and I shouldn't think you would be ready to tackle that in your current state."

Draco felt his temper swell, and he grabbed onto it for dear life. Any reason for provocation was better than this constant state of befuddlement! "Oh, and why shouldn't I be able to handle a... whatever you can handle?" he finished, somewhat lamely. As if he, or anyone else in their right mind, had a clue what the hell a pogrebin was.

Luna gazed at him. "Oh, I'm sure you could handle quite a bit, Draco," she answered cryptically.

He was again stymied by her constant acquiescence. He needed to vent at someone, to sting her with his rapier wit, but she refused to play the game and be a target, even for a minute! He felt out of sorts. That made him sulky. He heaved a dramatic sigh. "If you are done indulging in your leisurely morning, would it be too much to ask that we begin? Some of us have other things to do, you know. We can't all sit around eating pain du chocolate."

"Oh, Draco." Luna shook her head. "I thought you knew your geography better. The pogrebin is Russian, not French, although I can see how you easily mistook it, what with the baguette I offered you earlier. Still, if you ever do see the dear lady, I would caution you not to make that mistake in her hearing. She is touchy about it, and you know what happens then!" Luna chuckled, then broke off suddenly as if imagining a scenario that might not be something to laugh about.

Draco felt his face turning red. "It was an expression," he gritted out, "meant to convey my annoyance. Could we please just get on with it?"

"Uh-huh. Whenever you're ready," Luna said, as if for all the world it had been him holding them up.

Draco strode over to his customary chair and threw himself into it somewhat petulantly. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. I'm ready." He tried not to sound put out. "Go ahead, heal me."

He could hear, rather than see, the slight smile. "It isn't as simple this time, Draco. Remember what I told you last time? I think I got all of the poisonous influence. All that remains is the stain that is left behind. In order to fix that, I have to do some reconstructive work to remedy the areas that have atrophied..."

"What!?" Draco screeched. He leapt to his feet in outrage. "Are you trying to imply that I have brain damage?" His voice was nearly inhuman in its pitch. Probably only bats could hear it in this range. He was too distraught to notice.

"Well, of course," Luna continued blithely, seemingly unaware of the insult she had just dealt out. "I thought that I said that at the outset. However, I think it is reversible. This part is different, though. It calls for your participation! Isn't that exciting?"

Draco could believe he might have suffered a degree of brain damage, because none of this seemed to be sinking in, and he had thought he was a pretty quick study. "Huh?" was all he could manage. Then he wanted to kick himself. Oh well, his chance for first impressions was long past, and this was, thankfully, only Luna, after all. She already thought he was mental. Still, he endeavored to smooth his hair back and snap his jaw shut to preserve whatever dignity he might still maintain. If wit was lost to him, at least he might have his appearance!

For her part, Luna seemed not to notice his floundering and continued with her explanation. "Yes, that is the part that I've been working on and I'm anxious to try. Your morality centers and certain parts of your memory seem to be affected, so I have constructed scenario rehabilitation maneuvers for you to try out. The more success you have with them, the quicker you will be healed. So your health is dependent on your cooperation in these exercises. Are you ready?"

Draco was beginning to feel a little nervous again. "What exactly am I going to be doing in these 'exercises'? And why do you think my morality is lacking?"

"I will put you into a sort of hypnotic state, and you will be in a situation that feels very real to you. You will need to use your ingenuity to solve a series of puzzles to unlock health points. There is no 'right' way to solve a drill, but there are ways that will award you more health benefits than others. Should you choose to do it the 'wrong' way, we will be at this for as long as it takes to completely heal you," Luna explained breezily. "Don't worry; it's perfectly safe. You will never actually be gone from this chair, no matter what you think is really happening in your imagination. Are you ready?"

Draco looked at the girl in front of him doubtfully. This was going to require giving up a lot of control. He wasn't sure he could do that. "How do I know you won't just leave me like a zombie, Doc?" he sneered.

"I have a fairy coming by at three o'clock who needs a charm for mending her wing. I don't think I want to involve you in that!" Luna sighed. "Fairies are a lot of maintenance, especially with men around, and good-looking blonds to boot! You are too much trouble for that. She would put a glamour on you in two seconds flat. Have I told you about the time I happened to find the gateway to Faerie? It only opens..."

"No, uh, some other time. I'm ready now," Draco interrupted her hastily. Luna's stories tended to wander off-topic a bit, and they could be here a while. He eyed her closely. Had she called him good-looking? Of course he was, everyone knew that, but she'd said it very matter-of-factly, not much like a compliment. He shrugged to himself. "What should I do?"

Luna sat in the armchair across from him and crossed her legs. "Just settle in and get comfortable. You won't notice anything is even happening until you begin. Then you will be in a situation. It will be pretty obvious what needs to happen then. But Draco, I am telling you to try and do the right thing, okay?"

Draco sniffed and sat back. "I always do the right thing, Lovegood. Why would you even doubt it?"

"So close your eyes," Luna instructed.

He did. He didn't feel sleepy, just bored. He waited a moment, but he didn't hear anything. Luna wasn't talking or chanting; he didn't feel her hands on his temples. He wanted to fidget, but he quelled the urge. He waited a moment more, but nothing was happening. "Luna?"

No answer. Draco began to become impatient, and he cracked an eyelid. He started when he saw the room around him. He wasn't in Luna's shop anymore! How had that happened? The scenario must have already started! That was fast. He stood up. He was in a store, a Muggle grocery store.

All of a sudden, Draco realized that he was hungry. Starving, in fact. He couldn't recall ever having been so hungry in his whole life, and he had seen some pretty rough times. He recognized the feeling of lightheadedness that came over him, and he swayed on his feet. 'It's just a dream,' he told himself, though it was hard to believe, with the sharp pangs gnawing in his belly. He was nearly delirious. He breathed in slowly through his nose and held his breath, waiting for the feeling to pass. It did, after a moment.

Draco assessed the situation. Luna had said that it would be obvious what to do. Well, he was hungry, and there was food all around. Pretty simple. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

Empty.

What the hell? Draco patted himself, but to no avail. He shoved his hands into his pockets, but there were neither the Muggle bills that he had become accustomed to dealing with, nor even a meager coin. Other shoppers were beginning to give him funny looks, but he didn't care. He was desperate for food, and it was surrounding him. The fragrant odor of some rotisserie chicken from the deli section chose that moment to waft towards him, and it nearly brought him to his knees with longing. He had never wanted anything so much as he wanted a piece of that chicken right then.

His eyes cut over to the bakery, and the sight of the freshly baked bread made his mouth water. He could just take a loaf; no one would ever know, and as soon as he got his wallet, he would bring some money back. It wasn't stealing if you paid it back later, right? Draco's feet started towards the bakery of their own accord, as if drawn by magic.

Desperation made Draco tremble, and he clenched his fists as shame washed over him. 'Stop it!' he told himself sternly. Malfoys did not behave this way, not in public, not for any reason! He had to get a hold of himself, whatever it took! Luna had said that this was not real, that none of this was happening. He grabbed onto that thought as a beacon, and somehow found the strength to walk, one step in front of the next, to the exit of the store. He didn't know how he did it, but he walked out slowly, the doors sliding shut in a silent whoosh behind him.

Draco stood alone in the parking lot, the gathering gloom highlighting his misery. It was, of course, winter, and snowflakes began to fall on his head. He felt the bite of the wind more keenly than he would have normally because of his extreme hunger, and he sorely missed his coat. He had nowhere to go, but could only stand there dumbly under a mercury vapor light that flickered on and off, blinding him and making his eyes water in the icy air. When would this be done? Luna had said that he had to solve the scenario and it would be finished. Surely turning his back on temptation was enough of a challenge?

"Damn you," Draco muttered up at the sky, shivering as a gust of wind tore through his thin shirt. He hated himself for shaking, even if it was just with cold.

"Excuse me?" A woman was walking by and heard him. She was startled, thinking Draco had cursed her.

"Oh, nothing, ma'am. Sorry," Draco mumbled. Great. Now he looked crazy and sounded crazy.

The woman gave him a concerned look and hurried away.

Draco stared after her, but saw that she had dropped her wallet. He reached down to pick it up, and it fell open, spilling its contents out onto his palm. There had to be several hundred dollars in there! His voice died in his throat, as the image of the roast chicken popped into his mind. She wouldn't miss a few bills...five dollars, that was all. He would see her name and return the five anonymously, even. Yes. That was what he should do.

Wasn't that still stealing? Draco's conscience nagged at him. She didn't give him five dollars, after all. He was taking it.

Well, he wasn't going to ask her, he told that stupid voice mutinously. He would rather starve than beg! If he returned it later, then no harm was done, he reasoned. Intent was what counted here. Decided, Draco slipped the bill out of the wallet and ran after the woman.

She turned around suspiciously when she heard Draco approaching. He held up her wallet, wheezing slightly with the jog he had had to work up to catch her. The fear melted out of her eyes when she saw it, replaced by recognition, anger, and finally amazement, as all the pieces of what must have happened clicked into place in quick succession in her head.

"Oh, young man, how can I thank you? You have no idea what this means to me. I was just thinking about how there isn't an honest soul in this world today, and how perfect that you came along to prove me wrong just now!"

Draco began to feel something bad creep up his spine. Surely not guilt; he was in the right here! He also started to see spots in his vision, and just nodded his head.

"Please," she continued enthusiastically, heedless of Draco's growing discomfort, "allow me to reward you. It's the least I can do for your restoring my faith in humanity!" She held out a hundred dollar bill to him.

Draco gulped. He had earned that, hadn't he? He had returned her wallet, right? His hand wouldn't reach out. "I can't."

"Nonsense! Take it, with my gratitude," the woman insisted.

Draco began to feel lightheaded again. "No, really, I can't. Please, just let me go." He tried to stumble away. Somehow, it seemed as if this had gotten mixed up. Maybe he hadn't done the right thing after all?

"Are you okay?" he heard the woman ask, just before he fell.

"Of course!" he retorted haughtily, his head hitting the cement.

"Someone, call an ambulance..." She sounded so far away...

Draco opened his eyes to tell her he was fine; he didn't need an ambulance – but he saw Luna sitting across from him.

"Welcome back," she chirped.

He grimaced, disoriented.

"Of course, you weren't gone anywhere to need a welcome back to, but I figure you feel as though you were, and that's what counts, isn't it? So, how was it?" Luna grinned.

"Don't you know?" Draco felt like he had been through a war.

"Well, not the particulars." Luna shrugged. "I could peek in on you, but you seem like the type who would want privacy. I know the outcome, though."

"So do I," Draco replied wryly.

"Ha! I suspect you think you do, but go ahead and tell me what you think." Luna propped her chin on one knee.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "I did just fine, thanks. You really threw me to the wolves on that one, you know."

"Well, they aren't designed to be easy. They are designed to exercise your brain," Luna commented. "You did okay. You got half points. In some things you chose the optimal solution. In others," Luna shrugged, "not so much."

Draco curled a lip at this report. "Well, well, I suppose you would have done it better, right, Lovegood?"

"Not really, but it isn't about me. Don't you want to know where you got it right?"

Draco stood up. "I am going home now," he said frostily. "Thanks ever so much for your torture. I think I have had enough for one day. I don't need to sit around and chat like your girlfriend. Don't you have fairies for that sort of thing?"

"Sure," Luna said sadly. "So I'll see you next week then?"

"Maybe. Why, is your social calendar so full that I have to book this far in advance?" Draco asked loftily.

"No, Draco, it's just common courtesy. You know I'm here for you. I'll be ready when you are," Luna said quietly.

Draco was abashed, but he tilted his head up to hide it and looked down his nose at her. "It's good to know you are at my beck and call. When I feel like dropping by for a bit of torment, I'll be back. See you, Lovegood."

"Bye, Draco," he heard her say, just before he shut the door behind him. He didn't know why, but he knew that he would be back first thing next Saturday morning, come Hell or high water.