alisanne

Title: A Time for Comfort
Author:

alisanne
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy.
Summary: Luna tries to cheer Draco up with a party. Yes, he's scared, too.
Word Count: 2059
Genre: Hurt/comfort.
Warnings: Hurt/comfort.
A/N: Written for

hd_fluff's prompt #120: “Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.” - Edith Sitwell
Beta:

sevfan and

emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

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A Time for Comfort

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If someone had told Draco a year ago that he’d be taking advice from Luna Lovegood, he’d have called them mad and then tried to get them committed to the Janus Thickey ward. And yet, here I am. “So you don’t think I should go away for winter?”

“No. I think that would be running away from your problems, and nothing’s ever solved when you run away. You have to face them—”

The problem with that of course was that Draco would have to admit he had problems, and he simply refused to do that. He’d managed to find a job since the war, hadn’t he? Albeit with Luna at her wacky newspaper, but still, all those people who had refused to hire him had been proved wrong. He was even her best reporter now, even if she did have him haring off to investigate make-believe creatures, it was still a job. And it paid enough to keep him in dragon hide boots and relatively stylish robes. So what if he didn’t eat at exclusive French restaurants anymore? He needed to maintain his svelte figure anyway, especially if he planned to travel and maybe snag a rich husband.

“…are you listening to me, Draco?”

Draco focussed on the woman in front of him. “Yes, Luna. You think I need to stay home for the winter. But what I’m saying is that there’s nothing for me here. Mother and Father are in Europe for the foreseeable future, and before you suggest it, no, I’m not inviting people over, because no one will come.”

Luna regarded him calmly. “They would, you know, but I can’t force you. Which is why I’ve decided to throw you a party.”

Draco raised his left eyebrow and tried to look stern. “You’re throwing me a party?”

“Yes. And I promise to invite all the people you would have invited.” Luna smiled and it sent a wave of dread through Draco. “This will be fun! I think we should have a theme. Wondrous winter wonderland? Fabulous frosty fete? Stupendous social—”

“Luna, there’s no need—”

“Well of course there is. Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home. And I’ll prove it to you.” Looking down at her parchment, Luna began to jot some notes. “Don’t worry, Draco, I’ll see to it.” And with that, she seemed to dismiss him.

Mouth opening and closing, Draco stood before her desk for another full minute before turning away to head back to his own. He could forbid her, of course, but he owed her more than he could ever repay. He was no more capable of saying no to her now than he had been when she’d turned those big eyes on him when she’d been in the dungeons and he’d snuck food to her.

And I can’t ask Pansy to intervene because she’d just agree with Luna, the cow. In fact, Draco was beginning to wonder if Pansy hadn’t been the one to plant that idea in Luna’s head in the first place. They did spend an inordinate amount of time together.

Teeth gritted, Draco resigned himself to the fact that Luna was throwing him a winter party. And if I’m lucky she’ll just invite Slytherins and I’ll be fine.

Luna didn’t just invite Slytherins.

Draco wanted to rub his eyes in disbelief, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t change what he was seeing. There were Gryffindors in his home. And not just any Gryffindors. The fucking Golden Trio was there, plus Thomas, Finnigan, McClaggen and a whole host of others Draco only knew by face. Some of them could have been Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs, he supposed. Luna did know a lot of people.

Fucking Potter looked stupid, of course, with his stupid hair and his stupid broad shoulders and slender waist that made him look like a bloody Muggle male model. Not that Draco studied Muggle fashion mags or anything.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” he muttered to Pansy, who was sipping a martini.

“You’ll have to be more specific, darling. There are any number of men here to whom you could be referring.”

Draco glared at her.

Pansy smirked. “Oh! Potter. I should have known. I imagine he’s here because Luna invited him. I’m pretty sure no one can say no to her.”

Draco huffed. Pansy was right, more’s the pity. “Well I imagine he’ll stay the fuck away from me,” he muttered, grabbing Pansy’s martini and taking a sip. “And where did you get this? I need one.”

“Get your own,” Pansy snapped, taking back her drink and downing it in one swallow. “And since you’re the guest of honour, guess again.” Handing him her empty glass, she sauntered way.

Growling, Draco ditched the glass and looked around for an escape. It wouldn’t do to have Potter talk to him and realise that Draco had a crush on him, would it?

“…here he is.” Luna patted Draco’s hand. “I was just telling Harry what a good job you’re doing at The Quibbler, Draco. Now where did my Pygmy Puff go—?”

As Luna wandered away, Draco sighed, looking into Potter’s eyes, and completely losing track of what he’d been doing. “Hullo, Potter.”

“Hey, Malfoy.” Potter looked even stupider up close. His cheeks were flushed, his hair softly tousled, his clothes actually fit for a change, and even his glasses had been updated with new silver wire rims that showed off Potter’s eyes to their full potential. “Happy wondrous winter wonderland.” His mouth twitched.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Before you take the piss, Potter, you should realise that this wasn’t my idea.”

“Oh, I know.” Potter grinned outright. “This whole thing has Luna written all over it.”

Draco groaned. “Yeah, I suppose it does.”

They both glanced over to where Luna was chatting with a group of people. “It’s amazing how she gets people to do exactly what she wants,” Potter finally said.

“Isn’t it?” Draco shook his head. “I swear, she could tell me to climb Mount Everest and I’d be halfway up before wondering why I was doing it.”

Potter laughed. “She can be persuasive. She somehow manages to get things out of me that I—” He paused, eying Draco. “Well, let’s just say she’s a good interrogator.”

Draco nodded. “I can see that.”

As they drank companionably for several moments, Draco watched Potter from the corner of his eye. Surprisingly, Potter was watching him, too, and the look of interest on his face made Draco inexplicably warm.

Potter sipped his drink. “So Luna never said. Why are we having this party for you? What are we celebrating?”

Draco shrugged. “Who knows? I think this was just an excuse to throw a party. Does she have to have a reason?”

Potter smiled. “I suppose not, although she usually does.”

Draco snorted. “Well her reasons are often not understood by mortal men.”

Laughing, Potter raised his bottle of ale in salute. “You’re right about that.” After another sip, he said, “So, what are you doing these days? Other than being a Quibbler reporter, that is.”

Draco hummed. “I investigate by day, and by night I sell heroin. It provides some nice extra income.” He smirked. “That’s a Muggle drug, by the way.”

Potter rolled his eyes. “I know what it is, I’m an Auror. And I know you don’t do anything illegal like that because—” Biting his lip, he looked around. “I say, are you hungry?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “No. And how do you know what I do in my spare time?”

“What? I, don’t know what you’re talking about—” Potter looked everywhere except at Draco.

“You are a terrible liar,” Draco declared, crossing his arms.

Potter’s shoulders slumped. “Look, you have to understand. Luna is…innocent. Sometimes she can’t see the world for what it is…”

“Tell me, Potter.”

“Right.” Potter squared his shoulders. “I checked you out when Luna told me she was hiring you.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Checked me out? How, exactly?”

“I, um, followed you for a few days, looked into your finances, that kind of thing. I didn’t find anything.” Potter’s face was red. “You have to understand! Luna means a lot—”

“I understand,” Draco said dully. And he’d been so proud that he’d got this job on his own with no intervention from anyone. “So you’re the reason she hired me? You, what? Vouched for me?”

Potter was shaking his head. “No! I just checked for myself because I care about Luna.”

“But you told her your findings, right?” Draco couldn’t seem to stop shaking. He wasn’t sure why this should upset him so much. After all, everyone loved Luna. Why should he be upset that she didn’t love him for himself, warts and all? “And she hired me after you told her I was clean?”

“I suppose, but—”

“Excuse me, I have to go.” Draco had no idea where he was going, only that he had to get out of there.

“Go? But it’s your house—”

Pushing past Potter, Draco made for the door, somehow managing to not have to speak to anyone. Looking around wildly, he finally strode towards the front door. Once outside he spun, spotting Luna approaching. He Apparated away.

She found him slumped over his desk at The Quibbler. “I would have hired you even if Harry had found that you were doing something bad.”

Draco didn’t look up at her. “I don’t believe you.”

She placed a hand on his back and he flinched. “Have I ever lied to you?”

Raising his head, Draco looked into her face. “By omission, yes.”

“Because I didn’t tell you that Harry investigated you weeks after I hired you?” Luna smiled. “I knew it would hurt you, and I didn’t want to do that.”

Draco exhaled. “Weeks after?” he said carefully. “So you hired me before he showed you his findings? Why?”

“Because I knew I was going to hire you no matter what he found.”

Draco steeled himself. “Out of pity?”

Luna crossed her arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. That’s no reason to hire someone! I hired you because I knew you’d be good. You’re smart, you’re tenacious and, well, you needed someone to believe in you, and I do.”

There was no guile in Luna’s face, only sincerity. Something inside Draco loosened. “So what else did Potter say about me?”

“Oh a lot of things.” Luna smiled. “I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re cute.”

Draco gaped at her. “You…what?”

“Oh, he has a huge crush on you. I think that’s the real reason he followed you around like that—”

“That’s enough, Luna.” Potter emerged from the shadows, looking sheepish. “You weren’t supposed to tell him that bit.”

“Wasn’t I?” Luna winked at Draco, then moved away from his desk. “I’ll give everyone your regrets at the party, Draco. And don’t worry, everyone will be gone by the time you get home.”

As she passed by Potter, she murmured something, then she was gone.

“What did she say to you?” Draco asked as Potter walked towards him.

“She told me not to hurt you. She really cares about you.” Potter smiled. “You have to have become something special for Luna to care about you so much.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve always been special, Potter.” Draco smirked. “Now, what was all that about me being cute?”

Potter blushed. “In my defence, I was drunk when I may or may not have said that to her.”

“Ah, but alcohol only allows us to say what we’re really thinking,” Draco replied, getting to his feet and leaning against his desk.

“So basically I need to get you drunk to know what you’re thinking?” Potter shook his head. “Well, I suppose if I must.” Coming to a stop, he offered his arm. “Shall we?”

Draco smiled, and after only a brief hesitation, he tucked his hand in the crook of Potter’s arm. “I don’t drink cheap liquor, Potter. Just so you know.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Potter chuckled. “Don’t worry. No cheap liquor.”

“Fine, then lead on.” Draco smirked. Perhaps Luna wasn’t so bad at advice after all.

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