In the Light of the Moon

. . . A collection of drabbles and one-shots about Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood . . .

Not Necessarily in Chronological Order

September 1st, 1992

As soon as she walked into the Great Hall, she caught Draco's eye.

After all, nobody but the Malfoys had that color hair. But this diminutive girl did. As she circled in place—spinning like a top, her eyes gazing at the stars above, her hands spread out like tiny wings—Draco caught glimpses of the back of her head: cascades of thick, wavy, and—frankly—deplorably messy white-blonde hair.

No, no wizard but a Malfoy could ever be that blond. It was a family trait—well known throughout the wizarding world. Portrait after portrait in the family gallery proved it. Draco had never seen another witch like this one. Maybe she was one of them, one he'd never known about.

Then again, no Malfoy would ever go into public looking like that.

Those strange beads, and those little pouches tied around her neck. What are those? he wondered. Perhaps she's foreign?

Before seeing her, Draco never wondered what it would be like to have a little sister. Now, he imagined how she'd look up to him, how he'd guide and teach just like Father taught him. A git like Harry Potter could ignore Draco Malfoy, but a little sister couldn't. No, she'd respect him. If she existed.

Wait, Draco thought with surprise and a little distaste, maybe I do have a sister. He knew his father spent a lot of time "working late," just as he knew that his father's lascivious winks at other witches made his mum sit stiffly, staring straight ahead as if she couldn't see what was going on.

If Draco didn't love his dad so much—if he didn't want so badly to impress him—then seeing the hurt on his mum's face might make him angry. But Lucius Malfoy was the best man Draco had ever known.

And maybe—just maybe—that girl was his secret daughter. Draco had heard such things whispered about, especially among older purebred students whose parents had been forced into arranged marriages.

A little sister in Slytherin, Draco thought. Even a secret one. She had to be better than 'Drab' and 'Boil.' Well, who could be worse?

Then, the Sorting Hat said the fatal word: "RAVENCLAW!"

Not my sister.

The thought gave Draco a twinge. For a few moments, he'd imagined having someone who'd look up to him—for real, this time, not just because of Lucius Malfoy's money. He'd imagined not being . . . alone.

When the white-blonde girl sat at the Ravenclaw table, he felt a wave of anger. Grabbing the nearest missile, he hurled it at the imposter—that almost-Malfoy, almost-sister.

With one smooth gesture, the girl caught the orange. She peeled and ate it, slice by slice. Her smile never wavered beneath Draco's glare.

DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter universe and all canon characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.

SEVEN FICS CHALLENGE: Prompt: Fake

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I have chosen to adopt the white-blonde Luna from the films instead of using the book!canon, dirty-blonde Luna. Useful for plot purposes, such as above.

And as always, your reviews—and especially constructive criticism—are warmly welcomed.