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Malfoy resisted the strong urge to reach out and run his hands through that fine golden silk. He clenched his uninjured hand in his coat and clenched his jaw. This couldn’t be happening to him. Not him, not Malfoy. Malfoy doesn't understand how one person can make him so uneasy. He can't understand how he can even think about those cherry lips...or that wavy blonde hair...and this confuses him to the extent. What happens when he makes a bet with Loony? Who wins?
Muffled cries reached his ears. Sobs, then a yelp. A scream that went as quickly as it came. His mind went blank, his heart skipped a beat. Luna... Malfoy slowly came around a corner. The scene was horrible. He felt himself want to puke.
Nobody was around anyway to hear her. She let the blank face and dreamy façade slip away. A loud cry broke from her lips, echoing all the way into the Forbidden Forest. She dropped on her knees, her long hair falling over her face as sobs overtook her small form. What happens when Luna's dreamy face becomes a dreamy facade to protect her?
Luna put a foot on the edge of the balcony, and then the other leg, steadying herself as she stood up. Nothing supported her hands—she would fall down into emptiness if she slipped or took one wrong step. But everything was so beautiful around her—the air smelled like her mother. It smelled like peaches. Sometimes, you have to remember to smile.
Pansy looked up and Luna gasped. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. What was going on? What did she have to do with any of it? Things aren't always what they seem, and sometimes, even behind a cold face can lie a bruised soul..
His eyes snapped open, and his lip rose in a derisive smirk. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped. “I just…..well, sorry…” she said, tears clouding her vision. Merlin, couldn’t he see how horrible he was? Couldn’t he recognize the pain in her voice every time she talked to him, even as softly as she did? How far will Draco go until he remembers the grave danger he's putting her in? That before all, he must save her from himself...
“Luna,” whispered a voice. Luna turned around. The walls of the corridor melted away, and were replaced by forestry. She heaved a couple of breaths, looking down. Blood covered her hands. She screamed loudly, terror invading her. "I've lost something. Will you help me find it?" Her heart almost stopped from shock. She knew that voice.
His eyes searched any innocent prey—any victim to quench his thirst. He spotted a blonde at the bar, crying her eyes out silently over a nearly finished glass of Firewhiskey, the half-empty bottle not far. She looked young—probably no more than twenty. Perfect. He grinned evilly, running his tongue over his fangs as he headed toward her. They thought he was gone forever...dead...they were wrong.
“Now you listen to me, Loony,” he whispered huskily, his lips moving against her cheek as he pinned her to the dungeon floor, “we’re going to have some fun.” His breath was labored against her neck. “Whether you’ll enjoy it,” he gave her a grin of malice, “is entirely up to you.” Will anyone be there for Luna this time?
Black silk hair fell over dark eyes that stood over high cheekbones, pale skin stretched across them. But these eyes were glinting, and their pupils yellow, in slits like a cat’s. Luna swallowed hard, feeling a sudden dizziness.
In His Hands
“The oldest story possible—he desires the one thing he cannot have. He desires someone so pure and different because in a way, he’s trying to prove to himself that he’s not so evil. Because Mr. Zabini knows that he can never get back his purity, his innocence, or perhaps even his heart.” Dumbledore paused slightly, to let the words sink in.
“I always get what I want, Luna,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her ear. He kissed it, and she squeezed her eyes shut. His hands rubbed her shoulders and arms soothingly as his lips made their way down her neck.
"I can give you the world Luna.” She had been looking down the whole time. Now she finally looked up, making him gasp. Streaks of mascara-colored tears came down her pale, porcelain cheeks. “I don’t want the world, Blaise.”
A tear fell from his watery eyes. His only hope was that she was safe and unscathed wherever he was. He buried his face in his hands, sobbing quietly. That would indeed be a miracle. Draco wasn’t so sure anymore that such a miracle could be real. Nothing was sure anymore...Except the faint beating of his cold pulse.
“Phoenix tears,” the old man said. “If this doesn’t save her, I don’t think anything will.” “It has to,” said Blaise, sitting down. He bit his lip, watching the man tend to Luna, and feeling a cool, metallic taste in his mouth, he knew he’d pierced the skin. His features twisted when the man pored some of the liquid down her throat and she only coughed it back up.
“We were hoping you’d wake up soon, Ms. Lovegood.” Her voice was flowing, soft and smooth, calming and reassuring in this confusing world around Luna. Luna once again loses someone dear...
Tears of Blood
“I love y…” But Blaise didn’t finish his sentence this time...
Luna remembers Blaise...but while mourning him, and unexpected person comes...and things get out of hand, badly.
His mouth was on her neck then, and even the taste of her skin was driving him insane. Her scent—her flesh—her blood—it was all too much.
Luna’s hunger was beyond measure, and the lust for blood was too much to bare anymore. ... But what happens when Draco's blood lust for her takes on a totally different direction?
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