
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/92256.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Luna_Lovegood/Draco_Malfoy
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Luna_Lovegood
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot, Sex, Angst
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-05-16 Words: 911
****** had my heart on lockdown (and then you turned me around) ******
by magique
Summary
     Draco's stupid and weak and pathetic; Luna helps.
Notes
     Yeah, idk, I just felt like writing Draco/Luna again and this is what
     happened. I finished, like, all bar one paragraph in one or two
     sittings a few weeks ago and then got stuck on how to connect them
     (surprise surprise, I got stuck on the most sex-filled bit :/) and
     finally got it done tonight! \o/ It's probably kind of obvious, but I
     love writing unreliable narrative, and Draco is the most unreliable
     narrator, like, ever! He goes from, idk, "Hi, I am the most excellent
     person you will ever meet," to something like, "Mine is the worst
     existence ever and I deserve every bit of it boo hoo." Oh, Draco, you
     are so ridic. ♥
     Title comes from Boys Like Girls' 'Hero/Heroine'.
See the end of the work for more notes
“I hate you,” Draco mumbles, pressing kisses to the swell of her breast.
“You’re weak and pathetic and I hate you.”
Luna’s head falls back onto the pillow and she arches into the touch and she
moans. Her fingers curl into his hair; her nails brush against his scalp like
feathers as they run through it. She knows, without needing to be told, that he
doesn’t mean her, that it is nothing to do with her or anyone else, that it’s
about him because he’s stupid and self-centred and he can’t help it.
Draco knows, logically, that somehow this will come back to bite him in the
arse eventually, as everything always seems to with him. Whatever reason Luna
has to let him indulge in her soft body and his self-hate can’t possibly last,
can’t possibly be enough to prevent her spilling any sordid details she feels
like when the opportunity presents itself, but Draco never really learnt the
art of restraint. He can promise himself a thousand times over never again on
his way back to the dungeons afterwards but all Luna has to do is look at him
with that small, secretive smile that feels like it’s all his (even though it’s
not and it can’t be because nothing about Luna is his) and he has to have her.
And he’s stupid weak pathetic spineless self-centred but he does.
He’s not even sure how it started, really, except that he was crying in some
abandoned tower (stupid weak pathetic) and then she was standing in front of
him and speaking, then something and something and something, and Luna was
crouching, Luna was kissing the tear tracks off his face, Luna was curling her
palm around his jaw and smiling smiling smiling. And Draco was at his lowest,
at his very fucking lowest in that moment, so he pulled her closer and pushed
her down until she was lying under him, mouthing at his neck and rolling their
hips together. “Draco,” she’d promised into his collarbone, “I won’t judge
you,” and a cacophony of words fell out of his mouth.
“Draco,” she says now, sweet, “It’s okay to make mistakes,” because she sees
right through him and she knows, like instinct and without ever having to be
told, what to say and how to say it and what to do and how to do it. Anyone
else and it would be as sad pathetic stupid as everything else because who
wants to be that easily read but Luna’s a little mad and the silver of her eyes
is like clouds over the moon and she looks, dreamily, at nothing and smoothes
his fears away.
He shifts, lifts his hands to cup her breasts and flicks his thumbs across her
nipples.
“Oh,” Luna breathes. “Oh, yes.”
“Coward coward coward,” he tells her sternum, her stomach, her navel, her hips.
Luna groans and pulls him back to meet her mouth so they’re kissing, slow and
messy, as she fumbles with his belt.
She makes quick work of the rest of their clothes while Draco finds his wand to
incant a contraception charm, and then her legs slide open around him and he’s
pushing inside. Her eyes flutter shut, lashes making fans of dirty blonde on
her cheeks, and she murmurs, “It’s okay to be scared.”
Draco clenches his eyes shut against it because he’s not scared, he’s not, but
Luna’s fingertips brush down his cheek and (stupid pathetic weak) he is. He’s
terrified; he’s still failing over and over, and he’s running out of time. He
pulls out a little and thrusts back in, hard enough that she cries out, sweet
with an edge of pain. He pauses, waits for her to relax around him again, waits
for her to smile, waits for her to murmur, “It’s okay,” before he does it again
again again. Until his senses narrow to Luna, to her groans and her smell and
the line of her throat; until his movements become unsteady and his vision
whites out and he’s pressing his forehead to her shoulder and losing that train
of thought, losing the weak and the pathetic and the stupid and the spineless,
and then he’s coming.
She gives him a few seconds before she sighs quietly and says, “Draco, I still
haven’t...” so he pulls out and rolls off her. His fingers find her clit and
rub lazy circles over it until she’s gasping and trembling and whispering his
name like a mantra. She says, brokenly, “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed,” and
her forehead crumples and she’s shuddering and biting her lip, and then she’s
still.
Later, they will get dressed. Luna will tidy his hair, smiling, and press a
kiss to his nose. “Goodnight, Draco,” she’ll say, and Draco will look away
awkwardly and just say, “Yeah.” They’ll walk in opposite directions, Draco down
to Slytherin and Luna up to Ravenclaw, and Luna will fall asleep immediately
while Draco will lie awake and think about killing Dumbledore and feel the
stupid weak patheticclaw back in.
Now though, Luna frowns at his hollowed-out cheeks and the bags under his eyes,
she curls an arm across his thin chest and pillows her head on his bony
shoulder, and she says, “You need to look after yourself,” and Draco closes his
eyes tightly against the throb in the back of his head and pretends she could
possibly care about him as much as it sometimes seems.
End Notes
     i'm whatevermortal on tumblr & also dreamwidth and i always want new
     fandom buddies on both yo
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