A/N: Hello. This fanfic was inspired by Don't Let Me Fall, by Lenka. You might want to give the lyrics a listen before, after, or while reading. Or not. It's up to you, really. In any case, Enjoy!

Oh, and cover photo is not mine.

He would bet the manor she did that to annoy him.

She did plenty of things that annoyed him, only a fraction of which are intentional. He wasn't sure yet what to make of this latest stunt, only that it made him want to shake her by the shoulders. Or laugh while hugging her. He wasn't sure most days.

Granted, he'd irritated Luna Lovegood a few times; he feels a curious mix of pride and revulsion at the fact that he was the first one to think of periodically swiping her things and having them appear in the oddest places. He did not think others would follow his lead, but when he saw one of the castle's suits of armor wearing her radish-patterned jumper, he had to believe his prank had gone school-wide.

"May your utensil drawers be forever cursed with Permanent Sticking Charms," she told him serenely when he confessed to being the progenitor of Let's Hide Luna's Stuff.

"I hope you never find yourself underneath a nest of Nargles," she said, when he called her Loony in front of his Slytherin friends.

"You're a tricky question, Draco Malfoy," she murmured last night, as she rested her head on his chest, both of them hidden in the shadows of the Quidditch pitch.

She was tracing and retracing lines on his arm. He brought it around her, and she sighed, her robes rustling against his as she snuggled closer.

"Why am I a tricky question?" he whispered near her ear.

"Because I never quite know the real answer," she said. He fell asleep breathing in the scent of her hair—she had to wake him up hours later so they can sneak back inside the castle.

Right now, though, he watched her float dreamily from the Ravenclaw table and approach the Gryffindors'. That ridiculous hat was dwarfing her, and he looked around in dismay to see that most of the people in the Great Hall were pointing and laughing at it. At her.

"I'm supporting Gryffindor," he heard her tell Potter and the rest of his sorry crowd. It wasn't only for Potter, though, and Draco knew it surely when he heard what she had to say next.

"I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time."

She definitely did this so she can laugh at his expense, but he wanted to hear it from her, so he could have the satisfaction of insulting her himself. So when he spied her drifting out of the hall, he excused himself and followed her out. He caught her eye and beckoned her to come close, which she did.

"In here," he said, pointing to an empty classroom. He looked around the hall surreptitiously before shutting the door and whirling around.

"This is your idea of motivating me before the game?" he whispered, his face inches from her face. She stared at him with her wide blue eyes, and for a second he was lost in them, but she tapped her hat and it roared aggressively at him, which made him flinch.

"It's quite a pickle I'm in, see. Harry and Ronald are my friends, too. I was supposed to have a snake as well, only I ran out of ti—"

"You think I'll appreciate seeing that from the bleachers? A lion devouring a snake!"

"Yes, well, don't fret. And you're one to talk. I see you've your own motivational tactics," she said lightly, pointing at his Weasley is our King badge.

"Yes, well," he said, mimicking her, "I'm not snogging Weasley regularly, am I?"

"Would you like to?" Luna said, which turned Draco several shades of pink.

"No! Merlin's saggy—" Draco stopped mid-sentence and sighed, sitting in one of the chairs and rumpling his blond hair with one hand. She sat beside him and patted his back sympathetically.

His chest tightened as she brought her hands to his face and cupped them against his cheeks. Slowly, she brushed the planes of his face with her thumbs, and he felt something inside him break open.

"Just have fun, Draco. I know you'll do fine. Don't think of winning," she whispered.

"The team—they want to win—what'll everyone think?"

"Who cares about what people think," she murmured, and she pressed her lips lightly against his.

She can afford to not care what others will think, but he's a Malfoy. He was born for the sole purpose of reinforcing what people think of Malfoys. At that moment, though, the Quidditch match seemed to be ages away. Luna's hat was tumbling off her head, she was lacing her hands around his neck, and he could feel the weight of so many things lifting from him as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Everyone else can wait.

Thank you for reading. Please review? :)