The Way You Held Me Tight

Disclaimer: JKR owns it all. I'm just having fun.

A/N: Just a reminder that this story is not compliant with Deathly Hallows. It is, however, compliant with my SSHG fic, Enraptured. *winks*

Chapter Three

The Way You Held Me Tight

Luna's office at the Ministry of Magic was tucked away in a far corner on level three, where her experimental Charms could be easily contained. Typically, her work day was filled with new Charms to research or test, paperwork to be completed (in triplicate, of course), and meetings to be attended.

The current day, however, found Luna sitting behind her desk, the surface littered with neglected parchments requiring her attention. Her gaze was fixed upon a small crack in the plaster that resembled a Nargle, her head tilted to one side as her fingers toyed absently with one radish earring. Near the ceiling flew dozens of pale violet paper airplanes that had been sent via the Ministry's interdepartmental memo system. Around and around they soared, occasionally nudging into each other or flying into a wall before returning to their circular pattern along the ceiling. Luna ignored them all. Her attention was presently focussed upon one person...Draco Malfoy.

She closed her eyes and allowed the music to fill her mind; the steady rhythm of the repeated chords from the song Draco had taught her to play that morning was echoed by the beating of her heart. A blissful smile graced her features as she submerged herself in the memory of being held in his arms, and her tummy flipped as she recalled her very first kiss. Had it only been a few hours? It felt as though days had passed. Luna wanted nothing more than to kiss him again ... and again ... and maybe once more for good measure. Then he could kiss her so that things would be nice and even between them. She hummed along with the music in her head, not caring in the slightest that she possessed the singing voice of a Fwooper without a Silencing Charm.

It wasn't uncommon for her to be consumed by thoughts of the wizard she adored; however, it was not the norm for her to be so consumed that she could not focus on anything else. Of course, it wasn't every day that she could say Draco Malfoy had kissed her.

He had kissed her.

Draco Malfoy had kissed Luna Lovegood.

And he had said he wouldn't mind doing so again.

A giddy shudder swept over her at the thought. Perhaps their next kiss would happen that very evening, after their date.

Her brow furrowed in contemplation, and her wistful smile slid from her lips. The piano lesson and the kiss had been the loveliest things to ever happen to her, and her recollection of that morning would be amongst her most cherished memories, closeted away in a corner of her mind with the precious, vague memories of her mother. Something niggled at her, however. The Draco who had sauntered into the kitchen and asked her to dinner had been different from the one in the drawing room. She had recognised the look in his eyes...he was up to something.

Luna was no fool; she had an idea of what the wizard was thinking. She was all but certain he was using her somehow to gain something he wanted. What that something was, however, she had no idea. What she did know was that she would have to keep her wits about her when dealing with Draco Malfoy.

Dutifully, Luna reminded herself that she needed to make certain that her feet were planted firmly on the ground whilst her head was in the clouds. She did not want to end up as nothing more than yet another notch on his broomstick. She was after his heart. It was only fair...he had already captured hers. All right, so he wasn't aware of that fact, but that was neither here nor there.

A paper airplane soared into the office and crashed into the middle of her forehead before plummeting onto her desk. As if it were an everyday occurrence, she merely picked up the crumple-nosed plane and gently unfolded it. She gasped, her eyes widening comically, as she read the memo. It was from him. With a dreamy sigh, she tore open the plane and began to read.

Luna,

DM

Her eyes narrowed. Now she knew he was up to something. She had seen the way he spoke to women he was interested in shagging; he was treating her as if she were one of his one-offs, and she was not about to stand for that. Draco Malfoy would have to learn that she would not be spoken to in such a fashion ... unless, of course, he truly meant the words, because that would be lovely, but in this instance, she was quite certain that he did not. At least, not yet. In the meantime, she would demonstrate just how different she was from the witches he usually encountered.

She rummaged around her desk until she found a quill and a pot of ink and then quickly penned a reply. Her eyes scanned the page before she nodded, satisfied with her response.

As Luna watched the paper airplane zoom out the door and fly off toward Draco's office, she caught sight of the clock. It was nearly noon! She removed her wand from where it rested behind her ear and cast a quick organisation spell in hopes that it would look as though she had accomplished something that morning, and then she all but ran from the office. If she didn't hurry, she would miss lunch with Hermione ... and Merlin, did she have things to discuss with her!

Four levels away, Draco Malfoy was knee-deep in Arithmantic calculations and equations, his mind completely focussed upon his work. He was certainly not distracted by thoughts of Luna Lovegood and her delectable mouth. Absolutely not. He glanced at the equation he had been working on for the better part of the morning. It was gibberish.

He snapped his quill in two and tossed it away in disgust.

All right, fine. So he was distracted. It meant nothing. He was still in control. Everything was going according to plan. He was fine ... even if there had been more truth than false flattery in the smarmy message he had just sent to the eccentric witch.

He let his head fall to the desk with a thud, groaning when the resulting ache reminded him that he needed to stop banging his head against hard surfaces. Twice in one day...he would be lucky if he didn't bruise.

Malfoys did not bruise.

He never should have kissed her. That had been a mistake. Merlin knew that now all he could think about was kissing her again, and he could not afford the distraction. He should have known better. His attraction to Luna would be his downfall if he wasn't careful, and he truly did not wish to see her unnecessarily hurt. That would be unavoidable if he shagged her. If he could rein in his raging libido, they would be able to exit the "relationship" as friends, he would be able to find a decent witch to marry...one suitable for a Malfoy...and Luna would have a plethora of eligible wizards who would have finally taken notice of her.

He resolutely ignored the sudden ache in his chest that appeared with that thought.

Shaking his head, Draco retrieved a new quill, and with renewed determination, he attempted to return to his work. It was not to be, however, as he was almost immediately interrupted by a swooping and diving paper plane. He watched in fascinated amusement as the plane flitted about the room before it nose-dived onto the desk, shuddering slightly before falling over on its side. He knew it had to be from her.

Draco,

Luna

Draco couldn't have stopped it if he had tried – he burst out laughing.

"All right, I get it. No sweet talking," he said aloud, sniggering for a moment longer until he realised he had been conversing with a piece of parchment. He scowled darkly. The loony witch was rubbing off on him already.

He sat back in his chair, his eyes scanning her message again. A reluctant smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and he sighed in resignation. He should have known he could not treat her like any ordinary witch...Luna Lovegood was far from ordinary.

Perhaps he needed to re-evaluate his plans for their date that evening. Luna was not the type to be impressed by expensive dinners and baubles. He had planned to take her to a very casual but chic little bistro in Paris, but now he wondered if that was the right approach to take with the unusual witch. What would be appropriate?

When no immediate answer came to mind, he panicked. He needed help. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was time for lunch.

"Good," he muttered aloud as he rose from his seat. "I know just who can help me."

As he walked to the door, he paused by the decorative mirror which hung on the wall of his office and shrugged on his outer robes. Catching his reflection, he stared for a brief moment and then cautiously stuck out his tongue, just to be certain ....

He breathed a sigh of relief as he strode from the office. No blue polka dots.

A/N: According to the HP Lexicon, a Fwooper is an African bird with brightly-coloured feathers whose song will drive the listener insane. Therefore, all Fwoopers are sold with a Silencing Charm already on it, which must be reapplied once a month. The Tootlewomper, however, is all mine.

I apologize for the long wait and for updating with such a short chapter. I am completely focused on this story now, and I hope to have it completed by the end of the month. Thank you for being so patient!