for editing

as it pertains to draco malfoy

these are drafts that have shit to do with Draco Malfoy, which is a subplot that i have to incorporate somehow

Wailing cries: gut-wrenching, terrible, unbearable cries like that of a wounded animal. They were male, but high and feeble. They were quiet, but howling, penetrating the silent corridor with the broken sounds of a soul in pieces.

"Make it stop," came the voice, words more eligible now. "Please make it stop..."

"I can't," said another: a familiar, dreamy tone.

Pure curiosity fueling his decisions, Harry crept down the corridor and rounded the corner, his eyes scanning for the source of the noises as those wailing cries died down into equally devastating indications of someone crying.

And there, as huddled and collapsed in on himself as he had been for months, was Draco Malfoy: his face hidden from view, curled into the side of the wall like a dog being reprimanded.

Beside him, murmuring and trying to pry him away from the wall, was Luna Lovegood. Her dreamy expression had been replaced with obvious, clear worry. She acknowledged Harry with an obscure nod but placed a finger on her lips to tell him to be quiet. He understood and tried to make himself smaller, difficult with his newfound height, feeling wary but overwhelmingly curious.

"I should've just done it," said Malfoy, deathly quiet. "She told me to..."

"Yeah, you probably should have," said Luna bluntly.

Harry winced. Despite having no context, he knew this was likely very brutally honest of her.

Malfoy rubbed his eyes violently, still sniffling. "I DONT KNOW WHAT HE SAYS HERE AHHHH
——
Malfoy shook his head vigorously. "This is my fault."

"No it's not," said Luna definitively. "You can't control his actions. That would be impossible, he's all the way in space and you're here on Earth."

Malfoy picked his head off the wall and stared at her. "Space?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" she said happily as Harry rolled his eyes, knowing what was about to come. "Everyone knows Azkaban is in space — Dad wrote a full-page article on it. It's all part of the Rotfang Conspiracy to bring the Ministry down from the inside with Dark Magic and gum disease. How else do you think Dementors float like that?"

"Really?" said Malfoy, sniffling.

"Of course," said Luna, as if she meant business, as if this was highly sophisticated, intelligent matters. "By moving Azkaban to space, you detach Dementors from the Ministry and make it easier to train them for their army. The Ministry doesn't know. They think the copy of Azkaban on Earth is real." She laughed. In her dreamy tone, it was like a soft breath. "I'm sure you know this already. You're smart."

Malfoy simply looked at her. By the confused, stupefied expression on his face, it was clear he did not often receive compliments without ulterior motive, nor had ever come across Luna Lovegood and her blatant honesty. He watched her as if only realizing what an oddity she was at this particular moment.

"I think you're the smartest out of all my friends," said Luna punctually. "Hermione is too, but that's books and memorizing. Ron can be smart when he likes what he's doing. Ginny's brilliant as well." Her tone was dreamier, softer. "She's really smart... and her hair is so pretty... have you seen her hair?"

Malfoy mimed a vomit, all previous appreciation dropping from his face. "Yes," he said disgustedly. "It's impossible not to. Her whole family looks like a bunch of carrots —"

"Don't be rude," she said dreamily, swinging her feet under the bench. "They're really quite nice."

"Why are you friends with so many Gryffindors?" asked Malfoy, sounding slightly suspicious.