Chapter 7

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

A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Melisse.

Draco was restless. He couldn't put his finger on why, but he had hardly been able to sit still all morning. The feeling had been growing stronger all week, first at work, and now at home. He felt hindered, somehow, and he was anxious to shake off those restraints. The fact that nothing was holding him back didn't ease his mind. He wanted to be gone from here, to be free. He was no Muggle. He was tired of pretending to be one.

The thought surprised him. Draco took a deep breath and settled into a chair, suppressing his excess energy by dint of will. He would not be a slave to his baser instincts. He forced himself to sit rigidly, one ankle crossed neatly over his knee, until the clock struck eight. Then he allowed himself to rise. It wouldn't do for Luna to think he was sitting around with nothing better to do than to show up on her doorstep. It wasn't as if he didn't have a life. He could have been doing anything right now. He had a lot of better things to be doing, in fact. She should just be glad that he remembered to show up at all. He was choosing to do this. It wasn't like she had any special appeal, Draco rationalized.

Feeling relieved about his motives, Draco made to grab his coat, then stopped mid-motion. His eyes caught sight of his wand, which was lying, neglected, on his dresser. He had been using magic in the scenarios, but not in real life. Suddenly, he longed to feel that sensation again. He reached out and grabbed for it.

The wand felt so familiar in his grasp, it was if it had never been gone. Why had he given up this part of his life, this part of himself? It was hard to remember now. Draco briefly closed his eyes, leveraging the weight, balancing the wand as a whole. He gently tipped it in a few graceful arcs, appreciating the feel of it, an extension of his reach. Then his gaze hardened. He would not forget who he was again. He would not allow himself to sink into the miserable stupor that had invaded his life for so long. With steel in his voice, he Apparated.

"Draco," Luna's singsongy lilt greeted him without the least bit of surprise at his unexpected intrusion.

"Luna," Draco replied. He was a little nauseous. He had forgotten the effects of Apparating. He was a little out of practice. He was just lucky he hadn't splinched himself in his vigor!

"So, Draco, I was thinking that maybe you might have some extra time today? You know, after our session?" Luna asked, looking over at him. "I was going to go down the street and see if I could help my neighbor clear his garden of gnomes, but it turns out that he spelled them out yesterday, and I have the weekend free after all. Do you think that maybe you would want to just stay for a while? We could play a board game or something. Whatever you like to do. What do you like to do, Draco?"

Draco was startled. He looked at Luna, and she was gazing at him with totally innocent eyes, just waiting to hear what the answer would be. Like she was asking a friend to hang out. Like they were... friends.

The idea was appealing. He could imagine them sitting, chatting, just having a nice time. After all, what was waiting for him back at his place? Nothing, like always. A cold, empty apartment. It was devoid of all human feeling. He didn't have another soul to care about whether he came or went, if he lived or died. Now this girl was asking to care. She wanted to know about him, his interests. What did he like to do? He didn't know. The idea scared him. He wanted it, wanted her, but he couldn't reach out and take the hand of kindness that she offered. Something hurt in the area of his chest, deep inside. He didn't want to think about that.

He slammed down his mask and narrowed his eyes. "What do I like? It would be too sophisticated for you, I'm sure. Games? The only games I am interested in don't involve a board, Luna." He smirked at her, making his words sting. "My stakes are high. Too high for the likes of you."

Luna looked mortified. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She had taken a chance, asked a simple question, and gotten into a conversation that was way more than she could handle. Her thoughts were easy to read in her huge, luminescent eyes. They glistened with the tears that wouldn't fall, making them look like mirrors. Draco could see his own brutish self reflected back. He felt like he had just trampled a flower, but he had had no choice. She was getting too close. He had to protect himself.

They stared at each other in silence. His haughty gray eyes, her misty blue, until she sniffled a little. He hated himself, but he couldn't show it. All of the good looks in the world couldn't cover the rot beneath, he thought to himself contemptuously.

"If you're ready?" he inquired.

Luna nodded. Her face was an unbecoming mix of red splotches, as sometimes happened to the fair-skinned when they tried to suppress tears. She walked silently to her seat, waiting for Draco to take his place.

Draco was surprised that she was still willing to help him, after the insults he had thrown her way. She seemed mightily intent on her do-gooding. He couldn't understand it, but he would not look a gift horse in the mouth. He settled in.

"As always... Draco." She seemed to pause over his name. "You know the drill."

He didn't look at her, but closed his eyes. "Indeed I do."

He heard the roar of the crowd before he saw it. Wait, something seemed familiar. Draco opened his eyes.

He was in the same place as the last scenario. Luna must have messed up in her distress. He was in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, with the dragon. Yes, Draco glanced around. Everything was the same. He felt his irritation rise. Would Luna see her error? She said she didn't watch, but she still seemed to know what happened. Draco stood there a moment, while the dragon became annoyed.

Draco felt silly. "Luna!" he shouted at the sky. Could she hear him? Nothing happened, except the crowd roared.

Draco sighed, tapping his foot in impatience. It seemed that Luna was not about to rectify the mistake. Well, what a waste. He would just have to redo this and get another situation. It would be easy, because he knew the key now.

A roar from the crowd drew his attention upwards, and Draco happened to spot some faces.

Wait. There was Professor Snape. And Pansy Parkinson. They hadn't been there the first time around, he was sure of it. Draco frowned. What was going on here? Draco scanned the crowd a little more carefully. He recognized every face there; likewise, he didn't see anyone missing, save one: Potter. Even that bushy-haired Mudblood and red-headed Weasel were there.

Draco began to feel nervous. A sheen of sweat began to slick over his face and body. Something was different here. This time, every person he had ever known was up in those stands, watching him. But he had already completed this task, hadn't he? And why wasn't Potter here? His nerves jangled. Better get this over with. He didn't like where this was going one bit.

"Accio thorn!" Draco shouted, pointing at the dragon and desperately hoping that that was the problem this time around. Sure enough, the offending thorn flew to his grasp, and the dragon calmed. The silver chain unlocked itself, and the dragon launched itself into the air and flew away, much to the amazement and delight of the audience.

Draco shielded his face and watched in faint puzzlement. So, that was it? Well, good. He needed an easy one for once.

When he looked back down, he saw the figure of a man standing there. Whomever he was had been behind the dragon the whole time. Draco stepped forward to get a better look. The man didn't move.

Draco's mouth fell open as he recognized that dark, disheveled mess of hair, those black glasses. "Potter!"

The crowd grew silent to hear every word of their exchange.

Harry dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Malfoy."

Draco couldn't keep the sneer off of his face. "What are you doing here? Come to slay the dragon? It isn't your challenge, you know!"

"I know. It's yours."

"You are no challenge to me," Draco snarled.

"What are you so angry about?" Harry asked gently.

"As if it's any business of yours what I feel about anything!" Draco was shouting. He was so angry, he could hardly stand it.

"Maybe it is," Harry said calmly.

Draco saw red. That smarmy git had nerve to even address him! The very idea that Potter thought that he had any control over what Draco thought or felt made him lose his temper. "Shows what you know, Potty! I'm not mad at all! You stupid, miserable, jerk..." Draco fell silent as he realized he was screaming at the top of his lungs. He struggled to regain control. He just wanted to hit Potter's idiotic face as hard as he could!

Harry was watching him. "No, Draco, I don't think you are mad."

"What?" Draco looked up, taken off guard by his agreement. Did he have to be so damn agreeable? That was annoying! Draco clenched his teeth.

Harry leaned in, so the audience wouldn't hear. "I think you are sad."

Draco gaped at him. "Sad? Sad! You are a sorry sack of sh..."

"...And embarrassed," Harry interrupted quickly. "And a whole bunch of other things, but mostly just sad. There is one other "S" word, but I can't help you with that one."

"Well, unless you mean sexy, Potter, you are out of your mind. And frankly, I didn't think you swung that way, but what do I know?" Draco looked him up and down and said, in as insulting a tone as he could muster, "Even if you did, I wouldn't help you out, because you aren't fit to shine my shoes, let alone look at my gorgeous face and dream about having a crush on me!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean 'sexy,' Draco. For the love of Merlin..." he trailed off, almost looking amused.

"What?" Draco's temper flared. How dare Harry Potter laugh at him? He was not a subject to be ridiculed or made fun of! He wouldn't have it! "Just what is so funny?"

Harry instantly sobered, pushing his glasses up in a way that made Draco want to rip them off and grind them under his heel. "Nothing, actually. Nothing is funny at all. Like I said, it's sad."

"I'm not sad!" Draco shouted desperately. This was at odds with the truth, which was threatening to bubble up inside of him.

"Well, what are you, then?" Harry asked.

Draco felt a well of feelings, and he couldn't push them down anymore. Before he could stop them, the words flew out of his mouth. "I'm sorry!" As he said them, he realized that they were true. He cringed at the realization, but it loomed up before him too big to deny. He was sorry. For so much, he couldn't possibly say it all, not now, not ever.

The echo of his words, his utter humiliation, hung suspended over the stadium. They seemed amplified in the perfect silence, every ear attuned to the interaction between Harry and Draco. Draco felt a dam burst inside of him. He couldn't hold it back any more. The prick of tears stung his eyes, and sorrow clogged his throat, but he forced himself to look his rival in the face and stand up straight. "I'm sorry, Harry." He couldn't say more, but he accepted the truth of the words, and the meaning shone forth.

Harry looked back at him and smiled slightly. "I know, Draco. It's okay."

Suddenly Draco didn't want to be Harry. He had tried, with the egg and the dragon. But now he just wanted to let it all go. The whole damn war, everything. They had all paid a price; would they have to keep paying forever? Draco put out his hand.

Harry shook it.

That's when Draco noticed that he felt lighter inside. He felt a hard knot dissolving. The people in the stadium started disappearing, one by one, and Draco was left facing Harry.

Harry looked at Draco. "I forgive you, Draco."

Draco could have said something bitter and clever. He had a comeback ready. Instead, he bowed his head, and for once just said, "Thanks."

The last thing he saw was a pair of green eyes looking into his; then he blinked, and it was over.

Draco sat up, amazed. He knew he was different; he could feel it. "Luna! Luna, you did it!" He jumped to his feet. "I think I'm cured! I can't explain it; I just feel so much better now."

Luna looked up at him. "Yes, Draco, I know," she said quietly.

"How much do I owe you?" he said.

"Owe me?" Luna repeated flatly. "You owe me nothing, Draco Malfoy."

Draco looked back at her, finally registering the fact that she seemed upset about something. "Is this about before? Sorry I was a bit of a prat. I was a little anxious. I know what I need to do now. I'm going to go back to the wizarding world. You've healed me. I still have a long way to go, but I'm back to my old self. I don't know how I lived without magic for so long. If you need references, I will be happy to furnish them for you. You performed admirably, Luna, you do know that?" Draco peered at her, but she didn't seem to hear his words. He shrugged. "Bill me later, when you figure it out. Owl me, in fact. I will no doubt be on an upswing of fortune, once I find my way in the world."

Luna slowly got to her feet and walked behind Draco. He had a spring in his step that he hadn't felt in a long time. She held the door for him, and just before it swung shut in his face, she pulled it back. "Oh, and Draco?"

"What?" he looked back at her, wondering what she had to say.

"I just want you to know that I play for high stakes, too. It's just that when I play, I play for keeps." And with that remark, Luna shut the door gently, but firmly, in Draco's face.

Draco frowned at the door, with the feeling that he was missing something. It was only after he was halfway home that he realized he could have just Apparated. Somehow, the thought didn't cheer him. He shoved his hands into his pockets to protect them from the chill and kept walking home.