Flower Petals

-8-

Luna Lovegood liked to fix broken things. She liked to wander into attics and basements hidden within the walls of Hogwarts to seek out treasures between cracks in the cement. She made music boxes with dancing elves dance again, she breathed life back into things most people thought long dead. This was the nature of Luna. Luna never quite liked the idea that things were either wrong, or right, or people good or bad. Rather she liked the idea that everyone had the ability to change themselves at anytime and choose to heal. Luna would fix many trinkets, reanimate many flowers and heal many people in her lifetime but today she stood in the Owlry humming a jolly tuned she swore was a sailor song she heard in a tavern in Ireland with her father, or maybe she dreamed it, or maybe it was a bit of both. She was double checking the health of each and every owl she could lay her hands on, which happened to be every owl, since they all took quite a liking to Luna. 

Luna looked off the terrace of the Owlry, she wanted to see the view of the grounds which she so fondly took in every morning, but rather then the green hills and sprawling lake she saw Draco and Alstroemeria laying in the grass below her. They were searching for pictures in the clouds, something Luna often did. She didn't want to disturb them, but she just couldn't help the prospect of cloud gazing with friends. Luna Lovegood was called rather mean names including "loony lovegood", she always thought to herself though that she wasn't loony, just curious. She didn't have very many friends due to her oddness, or very many opportunities for social gathering, she took the opportunity when she could. 

That morning was quite a wonderful morning for Luna. 

It had been days since Alstroemeria had gone a full day without seeing Malfoy. They infected each other with hope and pierced each others loneliness with joy. Her mornings consisted of Paula's snores and Ginny running in because the pair always ran late. Ginny would shovel her out of bed with unbelievable strength and drag her to class. Alli wished to think of her new friend, but her first thoughts were still of Ron. She woke in the middle of the night, every night. 

He's Back. 

She'd say. Every night the nightmare would be different, images of snakes, of teapots screaming and dark marks being tattooed. She'd see tiara's and lockets caked with blood, but she would also see him. She would see him every night. She'd see Harry dead, hanging lifeless from Hagrid's arms, and ruin. Hogwarts, destroyed and everyone she ever knew, dead.  

She'd fall asleep again, and the second time she woke would be morning. In the morning she thought only of Ron. Her dreams lay in the back of her head like a murderer with a dagger waiting to strike at any moment, but when she thought of Ron he stood guard at her throne of fear. She had been avoiding him, seeing him less and less. Malfoy was Alstroemeria's secret, a friendship she'd rather not subject to trauma before it had properly bloomed. She knew if Ron knew that he'd throw a proper Weasley fit, no Weasley wants his family hanging around with a suspected death eater.  Suspected, but Alli never thought Draco possible. They'd grown so close. Alstroemeria knew of Draco's mother, of his elves, his favorite quidditch players, surely a boy who liked chocolate frogs THAT much is not capable of fascism. It pained Alstroemeria that Ron would object in a brotherly way, and not because he wanted to sweep her off her feet before Malfoy got the chance. Alstroemeria thought of Ron constantly, Malfoy had kissed her once, but she wondered so intensely what it might be like to kiss Ron. Ron would pull her in with his hands on her hips, drawing circles with his thumbs, humming to her songs from his head, he'd run a hand up her back and neck, resting it below her ear and tell her 

"You are my flower love." and he'd kiss her. Alli couldn't imagine this part, it was almost like a locked part of her brain. Kissing Malfoy was wonderful in it's own way, but would Ron's lips feel softer, would he be gentler and would he kiss her like he loved her, not just like he needed her?

Every night with these thoughts, of Ron, and of Malfoy, she would sleep. 

This night was not like any other, it was late and pitch black like ink had spilled into the air. When Alstroemeria awoke in a sweat, shaking, she said 

"He's coming" she stopped breathing for a moment, "he's coming for Harry". Alstroemeria jumped out of bed to get Paula to break her out of the trance she was in, begging it to to be a dream. Paula was missing, though this wasn't concerning because Ginny had recently stolen the invisibility cloak. "Borrowed" as she put it. 

'Ron.' Thought Alli. 'I need Ron.' But on second thought he would ask where she was, where she'd been these last few days, and she surely couldn't answer 'with Draco Malfoy'. Alli started walking, anywhere her feet could bring her, anywhere but the black hole that was her bed, but her mind followed her everywhere. The footsteps in the hallway echoing across miles were hers, but couldn't they be his? Couldn't they be? Cracks in the cement felt like tripwires, creaks in floorboards like pipe bombs waiting to explode. Before Alstroemeria knew, she was at the Slytherin common room entry way, she wasn't sure how she knew where to go, she'd never been here before, but she did have an innate ability to sense these things when she wanted too.

Draco Malfoy too had a nightmare. He was drowning, and the Dark Lord held his head. When the knock came Draco jumped, but in the oddest way he knew who it was, so he let her in. Alstroemeria plopped herself on the couch, looking at the beautiful art that swung from the Slytherin walls. There were paintings of Kings, Queens, all in deep, emerald green. There were skyline's of big cities and golden fields, gorgeous beyond belief, massive just like a Slytherin should be. The skylight pointed right towards the astroid belt which shone silver and greens down into the center of the room, silver chandeliers cascaded from all angles, even if it seemed to be physically impossible, no emergence or end, just beautiful crystals and light. She could not help but feel stupid for being proud of bean bag chairs and potted plants, but she was still proud even after seeing the elegance and refinery of the Slytherin common room. 

Draco lay on the couch, half asleep, and Alstroemeria stared at him. He had bags under his eyes and the silver looked grey in the darkness, but he still looked sharp, expensive almost. Alstroemeria shivered, the Slytherin common room was a different kind of cold, an almost hollow kind of cold. Draco took his night robe off for her and she took it gladly, brushing aside that suddenly Draco Malfoy was subconsciously committing acts of kindness. Draco held his arms out and Alli crawled to him like a child that needed coddling. She was terrified, and Draco offered a partner in fear. 

Draco wrapped him arms tightly around her, and fell asleep almost instantly. His head lay on hers, snoring lightly. He was warm, and his fingers twitched in his sleep which made Alli remember that Draco was a human, rather then the prima donna he had tried to portray. But try as she might Alstroemeria could not get to sleep. She grappled onto Draco like he was her last hope of salvation, she stared at the stars and made pictures in the constellations, but even Draco's arms could not lull her, could not make her calm or rid her of him. 

She slid Draco's arms off her peacefully. He rolled over without so much as a groan. His hair flopped to one side and he shoved his face deep down into the couch cushions muttering useless nothings liked 'loooooony'. Then Alli walked, where she knew she needed to be in the first place. To the Gryffindor common room, to the red hanging curtains with golden tassels, to the bed which always seemed to have room for her, to the arms which fit her like a glove, to the boy who smelled like earth and vanilla. 

To Ron.