Chapter 7 - Occultusum Malfoy
He’s changed.
She noticed this every time Draco let out his easy laugh. Weeks after their first, and so far, only, interview, she still couldn’t believe that the man before her was the same man who’d tortured her and her friends only a few years ago. She found herself fascinated with the way Draco tilted his head slightly back as he laughed. The way his eyes glazed over when recalling how Harry and company had bested him all those times.
“And I was stupid enough to insult the bloody hippogriff to his face!” He shook his head as he remembered how childish, how thick he’d been in Hogwarts and dug into the meal before him.
“How come you’ve only realized that now?” Luna asked, only half-joking.
Draco shrugged. “Seeing the death and destruction I had once dedicated my life to wasn’t as glorious as I had thought. I lost my friends in the war. I lost my family. I mean,” Draco wasn’t smiling anymore, “I watched most of them die before my very eyes, some of them so close to me, I could see the fear in their eyes as they lay there, useless.”
Draco suddenly seemed remorseful and old. “I did a lot of growing up after I escaped. I think I had tried to blame everyone else for how I’d suffered in my childhood. I tried to make it everyone else’s fault. I hated Hermione because of what she was. I hated Ron for what he was as well. Harry. Well, I hated Harry just because he was the symbol of my father’s hatred toward me. I was blinded for half of my life with this… this… loathing for everyone around me. Of course, I’d be lying if I said my change had nothing to do with the fact that the side I chose lost.” He tried to smile. “And here, I had promised not to bring up anything for the story.”
Luna struggled to keep calm. “Who said this would be part of the story?”
Draco laughed dryly. “Who, indeed.” Draco picked up his fork again to resume eating. “How about you?” He glanced up at Luna. “What have you been up to? Besides marrying that weasel, of course.”
Luna stiffened slightly. “Writing. Here and there.”
“Oh?” Draco nodded in interest. “About what?”
Luna hesitated, certain Draco would laugh at her if she mentioned the stories she’d been writing. “Theories, mostly,” she replied off-handedly.
Draco grinned. “You’re hiding something, Luna. I promise, I won’t laugh.” Luna had told him about how she’d been teased throughout her years at Hogwarts for her ideas and her…well, loonyness.
Luna faltered before finally giving in. “I’d written some things for my friends. You know, when they were down. I wrote something for Harry entitled Behind the Veil or Behind the Walls of a Caribbean Hut? I had developed a theory about where Sirius Black had gone. It seemed to cheer Harry up quite a bit and had given my father a big boost in sales. I’d written Hermione another theory as well: The Sight and Vodka: How Trelawney Has Both. It made her laugh, though Father said the Seers weren’t too happy with that one. For Ron…” Luna’s voice wavered before she plowed on. “For Ron, I’d prepared to write a story about his brother Percy. They became close after the deaths in their family, so I wanted to write something about how successful Percy’d been. Except… well, Ron got the wrong idea.”
Luna knew her downcast expression had caught Draco’s attention. “Oh?” he asked. “How so?”
Luna let out a shaky sigh before continuing. “Well, I had wanted to write about how Percy’d been invaded by an outside force and that he’d been out to hunt aliens. But then, I remembered how Ron always hated it when I wrote those theories. He’d said it was nonsense, so I decided to write an article he’d believe was true. Except…when he heard I was writing an article, he kicked me out of the house.” Luna tried to keep her voice conversational. “So here I am!”
Draco stared at Luna. She couldn’t quite describe the look; it seemed pitying, but thoughtful.
“You know, Luna,” Draco began cautiously, “you don’t have to be chipper every time you talk.” When Luna opened her mouth to object, Draco raised a hand. “No really, Luna. Lately when we’ve been talking, I noticed you’d always seem to take things so lightly. You talked of your mother’s death as if it was as insignificant as the weather. You can show your emotions, you know.” His voice quieted to a whisper.
“Sometimes,” Luna replied as calmly as she could, “these emotions should remain hidden.”
“Not around here, Luna.” Draco picked up his wine glass and swirled the contents. “I’ve never told you what my family had named this house, have I?” He continued without giving Luna the opportunity to answer, “Generations of Malfoys have come here as a retreat, a sanctuary, if you will, from their emotions. As a great family, sometimes we’re not allowed to show our true emotions, always forced to keep a mask on. Occultusum Malfoy. ‘The Hidden Malfoy.’” He waved a hand at the window. “One day, I’ll take you out to see the inscription over the doorway. It’s my favorite part of the house, really.
“So it’s no wonder why I chose this small home to run to out of all the estates my father owned “ to finally come in touch with my true self. Well, that and the fact that this home has a Secret-Keeper so no one else could find it “ another reason why it’s called ‘The Hidden Malfoy.’”
Luna bit her lip. For years, she’d been hiding her hurt, her pain, her love “ herself. She wondered if she could really open herself to feel the emotions she had really meant to feel all these years. She sighed. It was worth a try; it had been tiring having to bottle everything upside of her.
So after dinner, Draco led Luna into the sitting room where windows running from the roof to the floor allowed for a glorious view of the mountains, the forest, and the town that she realized she’d visited just weeks before. As the sun slipped back to its bed beyond the horizon, she talked, pouring out her story, leaving nothing out. She poured her soul out that night, emptying its contents at Draco’s feet as the tears of anger, remorse, frustration, and laughter overflowed.
She talked throughout the night to her quiet, yet willing audience about her anger toward her peers, her gratefulness toward Dumbledore, her devotion to writing, and her love toward Ron. She described everything in great detail.
Her classmates in first year had hurt her relentlessly for her mad ideas. Those who didn’t participate in the teasing couldn’t bear to look at her, let alone save her. She’d encountered Dumbledore when he’d found her gazing longingly at the other first years running outside. She’d listened enraptured as Dumbledore described his own inability to fit in with his peers so many years ago, and he encouraged her to keep her head up. She’d found escape in writing in a journal of different things she’d noticed about the people around her and in reading what others had to say in the Quibbler. Finally, she described her relationship with Ron, how he’d been so funny in school and how he always seemed to need a shoulder “ her shoulder “ to cry on. He’d been a mess, she recalled, but they were compatible.
And all the time she talked, Draco, she noticed, just sat there across from her, his eyes and posture telling her he was always listening. Not once did he seem tired or bored. He seemed, she noted with surprise, interested in everything she had to say. And not just that. His eyes followed her every movement as well. Whenever she threw her arms around wildly to emphasize a point, his grey eyes seemed to soak it all in. He was, she realized, engrossed with not only her story but her person as well.
When she was finally finished, she let out a sigh, suddenly becoming aware of how tired she really was. As her eyes fluttered shut, she felt a pair of arms gently reach down to pluck her from the couch and carry her up the stairs. She could almost smell the bed before she was placed carefully on top of the covers, still in her day robes.
She swore she heard a man’s voice say, “Good night, Luna Lovegood,” before she allowed herself to indulge in her dreams.
End notes: This chapter follows as closely to canon as my knowledge of the Harry Potter universe as of July 24, 2006 allows. Any information revealed to be false by Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will not be changed.
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