Daymares and Dance Steps

"Since most of you were entirely unsuccessful during our first attempt at Legilimency," Professor Snape drawled with contempt, "this time we will make things even simpler. Water. Think about water. A fishbowl, a glass of water, a waterfall, it matters not, but think about water. That way your partners will have a starting point to focus on. Concentrate. Put everything else out of your mind. Don't think about what you are doing...just do it. Look at your partner and reach inside his or her mind and find the water."

Water, Draco thought. That should be easy enough. Look for water. He latched his eyes onto Luna's and found himself contemplating their color. He had never, not even yesterday, noticed their color before. They were blue. Blue like water. He tried to remember how it had started yesterday, when their minds met. He had felt a tickling and then she was just there. But how was he to do that? How did he get out of his own head and into hers? This couldn't be a one-way street, could it? Was he was vulnerable to her but she impervious to him? That couldn't be . . . could it? Just when he was starting to feel the beginnings of hysteria he felt it again, that tickling. But it was in his head. That wasn't him reaching out to her; she was reaching out to him again. This time it didn't feel like an assault. It wasn't brutal like when she had slammed into his mind before, when she'd forced her way into his memory. This was like ringing a doorbell. It was a polite introduction between minds. It was an invitation. She was looking at him with a peaceful face but he was unsure what to do next. How did he respond? He looked at Luna, took a breath, and started thinking to himself, Water, water, water. In his mind the tickling sensation turned into sprinkles of water showering. His pupils dilated and he was no longer seeing with his eyes.

Luna was so at peace and so happy. She was feeling fat water drops as they splashed onto her upturned face. It was glorious. She hadn't a care in the world for that moment. Her bare feet were splashing in ankle-deep puddles and she was humming to herself. For no particular reason she began to hum a slow song and to waltz along with it, holding her arms out in proper form to embrace her invisible partner. It was the song Daddy had played on the old Victrola when he had first taught her how to dance, and she knew it well. She could almost hear the instruments playing along in the back of her mind as she swept across the yard in the squishy, muddy grass. Her damp hair hung heavy down her back and whipped her with sodden clumps when she made sudden turns. She moved with natural grace but also with a practiced air that spoke of many dance lessons since that first one. She held her neck straight and moved in easy, sweeping motions practiced to compliment her dance partner's movements. Her eyes closed, but still she was moving across the yard in her delicate dance steps.

Eventually she ran out of song to hum and came to a stop. Smiling, she bowed a deep formal curtsy to her imaginary partner, her eyes cast demurely toward the ground, and sighed. When she looked up she saw that she was behind the house and her traitorous eyes turned to face the back garden. Daddy had stopped planting there years ago. He hadn't had the heart after her mother had died in that very field. Luna's throat swelled suddenly as she stared at the plot of land that had grown wild into a patch of knee-high grass. She had been there the morning her mother had died. Mum had warned her to stand back but said Luna could watch her work with the new charm she was going to try. Luna had been just a child then, watching intently so that she could be a great witch like her mother one day. She wanted to be just like her invincible Mother who loved her and Daddy so much.

In a fraction of a moment Luna saw a flash and thought how pretty it was. Maybe her mother would teach her to make that light. But then as her eyes searched through the brightness to see if her mother was pleased with her new spell, Luna saw her crumpled form fallen in the garden. Her mother did not move. Luna didn't know what she was seeing at first, and when she did recognize what she saw she didn't know what to do. She just stood there locked in place. That was how her father had found her; she didn't know how much later that she had been standing rigidly, staring unblinkingly at her mother's body. All thought and command of speech had left her. She was just there. And her mother's body was all she could see. And she couldn't do anything about it.

She stared now at the bare field that held such a terrible memory; she was drenched from the rain she had just been dancing in and her heart was aching. Her body shivered against her will. The rain that had moments ago been refreshing to her was now sinister and mocking. She felt the weight pressing down on her again, crushing her into the muddy ground, reminding her that she was still the same helpless girl who hadn't known what to do. She couldn't reach her mother that day, she hadn't known how. And her father, even as much as he loved Luna, had withdrawn since losing his wife. He and Luna were still close, but she knew she would never truly reach him again. She was cut off, alone, and she cursed herself for being so helpless. A fat raindrop hit her squarely on the nose then and startled her out of her macabre musings. The summer rain was still falling. And then the garden was gone. There were just falling raindrops. Falling water drops. Just water.

Luna was aware again of her classroom at Hogwarts, but the water was still there. It was filling her eyes as she looked at Draco. She didn't always cry when she thought about her mother. In fact, more and more she was able to control her reaction, schooling herself so she didn't show this sign of vulnerability around others. She didn't want to give anyone an idea of what her weak spots were, so they couldn't use them to torment her. Whatever others did to mock her, she acted as though it didn't bother her in the least. That took the power away from them and took the fun out of their teasing. Truth be told, most of the time she really didn't care what other people thought.

But now Draco was looking at her; Draco Malfoy, the school bully who spent a great portion of his time ridiculing other students, had just seen her most painful thoughts. She didn't have to let him know that, though. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath and the tears spilled silently out of her eyes, but she smiled a wistful, dreamy smile and said in her usual gentle voice, "You did great, Draco." Draco, however, was looking at her gobstruck. He really looked confused and ill at ease. If she hadn't been so out of sorts she probably would have been amused by his expression. Once he sorted himself out he would probably be disgusted at her show of weakness, especially since he himself was so driven to be master of his own feelings. If he hated himself for crying out in pain, he was sure to be put off by her sobbing like a simpering little girl who'd got lost at the market.

Well, no matter; she wasn't crying. She wouldn't cry. She nonchalantly raised her hands up to fiddle with her hair and in the process brushed the sleeves of her robes across her face to hide the tracks of her tears. When she lowered her arms again she looked down at her books, hoping the class would let out soon. She didn't want to see if Draco's startled expression had changed into the sneering look of disgust he so often wore. She simply was not in the mood to contend with a pompous Malfoy just now. Thankfully it was only moments later that Professor Snape dismissed the class. She risked a glance towards Draco as she rose weakly from her seat, but he was already walking away with Blaise.

As she followed them from the room she heard Blaise say, "That was utterly boring, mate. I concentrated so hard I gave myself a headache, and when I finally sorted it all out Pansy was thinking of a bleeding swan pond! What a waste, eh? Ah, but you were stuck with Looney Lovegood, right? Tell us, old man, what was she thinking of? Some deep-sea creature no one's ever heard of that steals knickers?"

Luna's heart started beating double time. Come on, Draco, she thought, give me a reason to believe in you. It was an odd thought, since she should've only been thinking about maintaining her privacy. Why was she hoping she could believe in Draco Malfoy? But she did hope he would be a kind custodian of her vulnerability.

Just then Ginny rushed up to her, flushed with excitement. She started to rattle on excitedly about the weekend trip to Hogsmeade and Luna couldn't make out what Draco was saying. She thought she heard the word "rain", and that was all she could catch. Her heart went from double time to a hunk of lead that dropped to the floor. Well, that was her relative anonymity circling the drain. By this time tomorrow she would be poor pathetic Loony who went cuckoo after she lost her mum. She would survive this just like she had years ago when she'd had to find a way to keep going without her mother, only now she would have to find a way to keep on without her dignity. At least she would still have her daydreams to content her.

Well, that was it; his worries were over, Draco thought to himself. The danger had passed. He now had something on Luna as collateral for his secret. Surely she wouldn't dare betray the involuntary confidence they had shared when he now knew about her moment of helplessness and self-recrimination. He thought of her standing there in that field as a child, not knowing what to do. Her mother should never have allowed Luna to be around if she was practicing something volatile like that, he thought. She'd put her daughter in a position to watch her die, and she could've easily hurt Luna as well when casting her misguided charm. In fact she had hurt Luna, in the worst possible way. It was her mother who had died, but the life had just gone out of Luna like an enchantment had just worn off. Her mind had started out so peacefully in the beginning when she had been dancing in the rain. He had envied her then for her simple life. She had it easy. He father wasn't a raging lunatic. He was a fool, judging by what Lucius Malfoy had to say about him, but he wasn't cruel. Luna wasn't going to grow into a hated Death Eater. She wasn't always being watched over and groomed to be meticulous and merciless. She was free as a peasant to spend her days frivolously prancing about a muddy yard, so he had concluded disdainfully that she was as empty-headed as he had always presumed her to be. Just when he had passed this judgment on her she'd stopped dancing. What she showed him next took him by surprise.

The delight she had felt from the rain was an easy feeling. The adoration she had for her mother was warm and enveloping and absolute. But the complexity of her grief was overwhelming. Luna's shock at seeing her fallen mother was wrenching. She would have been less alarmed if the sun had suddenly fallen from the sky. When Draco felt the weight of the situation dawn on her child mind, he felt that he too would stand motionless until he grew into the ground. Those horrific moments stretched on infinitely, and they brewed a caustic poison of agony that threatened to choke Luna when she saw that miserable field. It was a familiar hollowness to her he somehow knew. He was surprised to find that she was not empty in her head. Luna was . . . Luna was . . . he didn't know what the hell Luna was. There was more to her than she showed. But she was not a threat to him. He wouldn't have to learn everything about her in an effort to protect his secret.

He found himself disappointed by this thought. He actually wanted to get to know more about her. He laughed at himself for the very idea. But she was a mystery to him. She'd shown him more depth of emotion and honesty than he had ever seen from any other girl. The girls in his House were coquettish and calculating. Even his own mother had long ago learned to school her emotions and choose her words carefully, and he knew those carefully chosen words omitted a multitude of sins. But he supposed if he were to be absolutely thorough it wouldn't hurt to learn more about the girl. He probably ought to study her a bit more. After all, she might panic now that he had her memory and blurt out his secret as a pre-emptive attack. He felt much better as he decided that he did indeed have cause to get to know Luna better. Just to be on the safe side, he told himself.