_ky_ (_ky_) wrote in dreamyeyed_luna, @ 2007-08-24 23:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | gen, luna/draco, rating: pg |
In the Eye of the Beholder
Title: In the Eye of the Beholder
Author:_ky_ (kyfairie on LJ)
Rating: Pg
Characters/Pairing: Draco/Luna
Warnings: Um...It's Draco and Luna, But, it's Pre-Romance, so none, really
A/N: This was inspired by a line in Rotton Wood by roma_fics and then nicbemused fed the plot bunny beautifully on the Cipher Forum until, alas, I had no choice but to write it. Then, it was suggested that I post it here. So, 'ello, this is my first posting. I did not have a beta for this story, all errors are my own.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these beautiful characters, I only play, and dream, and make no money. If I did own them, I would also own a pink 1967 Fastback Mustang just so my huband would cringe ever time he saw it, knowing that he finally had his dream car... but it was pink. However, that is the only malace intended with this story. heh.
Summary: Draco Malfoy's final year at Hogwarts was not what he expected it to be. However, one of the strangest days had to be the day that he went into the Forbidden Forest, and met a girl who was barefoot and comfortable with death.
********** In the Eye of the Beholder **********
Draco saw them diving in and out of the trees of the
Mainly, though, he was horrified that he could see them now.
Oddly, it was that feeling of horror – the knot of dread that constantly seemed to curl in his stomach these days – that lead him down the paths toward the clearing where the creatures seemed to be landing. Draco knew that a lot of people – such as Potter and his friends – considered him a coward; it was more accurate to say that Draco had never had a fear that he’d seen the benefit of facing. Then his world was filled with horror, and he had to find one thing that he could stand up to.
He hadn’t expected anybody else to be in the clearing. Much less that Loony girl. Luna Lovegood, he scoffed to himself. She’d always seemed more Hufflepuff than Ravenclaw to him, even with all her advanced classes. Even now she stood there, petting the beasts, barefoot with dirty knees that poked out from a dress that flared above them. His sneer turned into a grimace. The bright colorful pattern across the fabric was comprised of baby mandrakes in various dance poses. The random array of beads in her hair matched the wretched garment.
One of the ghastly beasts seemed to be playing with the beads; the end of her tiny plait kept slipping in its mouth.
“They’re gentle, you know.” She spoke suddenly, her voice breathy and soft. If they weren’t the only two in the clearing, Draco wouldn’t have been sure she was talking to him, since she didn’t even give him the respect of turning to address him.
“One of your gentle creatures is trying to eat you,” Draco spat out.
The blonde girl reached up and ran a hand along the neck of the Thestral playing in her hair. Draco blanched as he noticed the veins and muscles shift under the translucent skin at the merest pressure of her touch. “Oh, Harpagos, he just dreams of going flying again. Having a rider spoiled him. Perhaps the two of you should become friends.”
Luna glanced over at Draco, a mysterious smile on her lips. She laughed as he shook his head and took a step away from her – away from the monster beside her.
“You’re missing out on a great opportunity, Draco.” The Slytherin felt his eyes go wide that this girl – this blood-traitor who barely knew him – would call him by his name when so few would dare!
The girl continued softly, as though she hadn’t even realized she had said anything odd. “Too many people are scared of Thestrals because they are associated with death.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out an apple. Untangling her hair from the one she’d named Harpagos, she offered up the apple instead. It tilted its head, birdlike, as it contemplated the fruit for a moment. Finally, it devoured the apple in several bites directly from her palm.
Draco saw a flash of teeth that he would not wish anywhere near his skin.
Luna continued speaking in that voice that seemed so distant from everything around her yet mesmerized Draco and held him to her every word, “The thing is those of us who can see them are already associated with death. Death has already touched us in some way, and the Thestrals sense that. I believe they feel kinship for those of us that can see them.”
She continued walking around the circle, petting the creatures, feeding them, talking to them. Draco continued to watch her, wide-eyed, and he was uncertain why he hadn’t scoffed at her – at the very least – or better yet, turned and walked away from her and her monsters.
“Who did you see die this summer, Draco?”
Professor Burbage. Rotating slowly above the drawing room table, where so many memories from his childhood now lay tarnished. Professor Burbage. Not dead yet, simply waiting, because to kill her would be to show an ounce of mercy. If he’d never seen Snape cast the Avada Kadavera he still would be able to stand in this clearing and have this conversation about these skeletal monstrosities; the moment she’d had been strung up above the table for the pleasure of the Death Eaters, she was as sure as dead.
“Dumbledore,” Draco quietly lied, “I thought everyone knew that.” Though nobody knew that he was such a coward he’d closed his eyes as Snape’s wand had blazed. Though perhaps seeing the headmaster’s lifeless body as it fell was enough that he could now admire the same creatures he’d scoffed at Potter for being able to see.
Truthfully, Death lived in his house. Death ate his food, and Death made his aunt swoon and his parents bow and grovel.
Staring at the beasts, they reminded him of the horrors he’d witnessed, and it momentarily stole his breath. He tried to relax, to calm himself; then he noticed the blonde girl, Luna, who laughed, who pranced amongst the creatures. He felt his panic rising again. The beasts, perhaps he could understand them, but he could not understand her. She admitted that they were associated with death, but she felt kinship with them. She laughed, and danced around them, and fed them berries. He began to back away, and in his haste, tripped over an exposed tree root. He fell hard, a shooting pain traveling up his spine. Stars flashed behind his eyes, though he didn’t recognize hitting his head, then his vision went momentarily black.
As he regained his senses, he stared into the void of white eyes; life, intelligence, and curiosity shown out of them as they contemplated him. The tiniest of the Thestrals had made its way over to him while he was vulnerable on the ground and now regarded him from its perch on wobbly legs.
“What does it want?” Draco demanded of the strange girl, glad that his voice came out sounding strong.
Luna laughed, sounding delighted by his annoyance. “I think she likes you. I’m glad; she doesn’t seem to like most people. She usually avoids Hagrid and me. She always seems so lost and confused most of the time. But she seems quite taken with you, Draco. Perhaps she sees something in you that has finally made her comfortable around humans.” That annoying laugh that Draco didn’t want to like tinkled across the meadow again. “Or perhaps she just thinks you are the one that has the food.”
Luna threw something, and it landed on the ground beside him with a disturbing splat. Draco remembered the Thestral’s sharp teeth as it had taken the fruit from the girl’s hand. But the foal scrambled, half falling on him, trying to get to the food. He thought uncomfortably about Luna’s words on kinship, and then he wondered if this small creature had only come to him because he felt lost and alone as well. Tentatively, and somewhat disgusted with himself, he grabbed the food and held it out for the baby.
Whatever he had picked up was pulpy and wet. As the foal began to rip bites from it he looked down to find that he held a handful of dripping, raw meat. He dropped it, and pushed the foal from him as he scrambled away. He wiped his hand viciously against tufts of grass before he stood.
The rest of the herd was tensed, and they had turned on him at the baby’s cry. It was only Luna’s voice, speaking calmly as she knelt by the baby, which seemed to calm them down.
She kept the same tone of voice as she approached Draco. “Predators can naturally see Thestrals, Malfoy, because they are naturally associated with death.” She pulled a cloth from her bag and reached for his hand – it still seemed tainted and sullied, and he had the irrational urge to laugh that now he actually had blood on his hands. Gently, almost as though he were one of the wild beasts, Luna took his hand and began to wipe the filth from it.
“The herd has to be protective of the young. They are vulnerable until they grow their wings fully, which is why they need lots of protein in their diet. Until then, the rest of the herd – the elders – must protect them, because they cannot fly to escape attack.”
“What if their elders can’t protect them?” the question came out as a whisper, and he had never meant to ask it. His eyes grew wide, and she looked up at him. For a moment, they seemed to focus so that they no longer seemed so vacant. Then she smiled and it was again as though she were lost in another world.
“Then they often learn that the can fend for themselves.” She gave another laugh, turning away to begin packing her bag back up. “Or protection will come from where they least expect it. After all, I protected her from you, didn’t I?”
Draco scoffed, “I wasn’t going to hurt it.”
The mysterious grin that she seemed to where all the time reappeared. “The Thestrals didn’t know that.”
Suddenly, Luna reached up and ran a hand down his cheek, much as she had done with the animal. Oddly he found that he wanted to turn his face into her palm and nuzzle her skin just as the beast had done.
“I knew you wouldn’t have hurt it, Draco,” she proclaimed, her wispy voice even softer than normal.
She stretched up to her toes, kissing him on the corner of the mouth, before she bent to pick up her bag.
Draco stood frozen, hand posed half way to his cheek as he watched her walk to the edge of the clearing. Then he spoke a single word, and it was as much accusation as honest question: “Why?”
Luna gave him her smile again, the one that he would picture on her face every time he thought of her. “Because I don’t think Thestrals are necessarily the only things misunderstood because of their associations, Draco Malfoy.”
Long after she had walked away, Draco continued to stand in the clearing with the beasts he had feared only that afternoon. As he began to weave his way through them to head back toward the castle, he decided that he had faced one of his fears and successfully conquered it.
Now, though, he feared that he might have gained a bigger worry in his thoughts of a slightly addled blonde Ravenclaw.