** Penny has graciously given me permission to post her gift to me on my site.**
Title: Christmas Bride
Author: pennymintlick
Gift for: oracleholly
Pairing: Draco/Luna
Rating: Universal
Disclaimer:JKR owns Harry Potter.
"I cannot believe I just got married with a Weasley as my best man." Draco Malfoy stripped off his dress robe as he stormed into the honeymoon suite, letting it puddle into a luxurious pile on the floor.
"I had a Weasley as my maid of honor," said his new wife, floating in airy white silks and veils. "I'm more surprised you had a best man at all. It's more a Muggle tradition than a Wizarding tradition."
"Yes, well, you're wearing the figurative Muggle pants in this relationship, aren't you, Lovegood?" spat Draco.
Luna smiled at him as if his tantrum was merely another way of saying I-love-you. "You can call me Luna, since we're married."
"You're still the boss of me," grumbled Draco, flopping on the bed and blowing one escaped strand of platinum hair back. He eyed her crudely. "At least they'll look like Malfoy children."
"Of course they will," Luna said, slowly unpinning her veil. "You'll be the father." She turned to look at him, round blue eyes finally fixing on him. He refused to be pleased that for the first time all night, his bride's dreamy gaze was focused on him. "Will we be fucking tonight?"
Maybe, Draco thought, her evil plan was to disarm him, and then make him fall off his chair with crude comments. After all, he was now on the floor, gaping like some horrid fish. "What?"
"Will we be sharing a bed?" Luna had stood and gone to the mirror, and now appeared to be stripping.
"I-I didn't marry you for that."
"No, you married me to stay out of Azkaban."
"I know." She really didn't need to remind him. Draco remembered
quite well, all on his own, why he was now wedded to Lovegood. He remembered quite
well the bedraggled state the Weasley female and stupid Longbottom had found him
in, and their ridiculous sense of pity that had ended with him in Longbottom's
house rather than with his throat firmly under Potter's hands. He also remembered
how, in Dumbledore's name, it had been decided he would be protected by
being married off to some lightsided bird and hidden away.
Potter and the Weasleys outright refused either Granger or the Weasley girl. He'd then been turned down by the Patils, Brown, Chang, and a score of other families with young ladies.
Until finally, with the Aurors ready to escort Draco to Azkaban for holding, a sweaty Longbottom had dashed up with Lovegood in tow.
"Luna," gasped Longbottom, pointing at the blonde girl, who just looked a little confused about her whereabouts. "Do it."
She'd blinked, and at Longbottom's urging, knelt. "Hullo, Draco Malfoy, will you marry me?"
And of course he'd had no choice to say yes and be the husband of the looniest witch in the world.
He was Mr. Loony. Loony Malfoy.
"Draco," came Lovegood's voice into his thoughts. He started, finding her pale hands on his shoulders. "You're talking to yourself again."
His cheeks burned. "Shut up."
"I was just going to say you don't have to do it so quietly," Luna told him gently, and to his surprise, kissed him on the mouth.
He looked away, cheeks still hot, and held his chin high. "I will not be won over
by this," he told her. Cool fingers took his face and turned it back to the girl's.
His lip curled, but he was struck, quite suddenly, with the fact that she looked
rather pretty. Her hair, almost as pale as his own in this light, fell in loose
waves down her back, and she'd left the wreath of her veil on, holly and small
red berries. And her eyes, which he had always dismissed as stupid and vacant,
were brilliantly blue and focused on him, and it was like having the universe
rotate around his suddenly small and haughty self.
He rather liked it, and so he leaned forward and kissed his wife. They were too young for this, he thought, and of course he'd have to put up with Potter and company forever, but Luna's warm mouth and lithe form crawling into his lap was pleasant compensation.
"Tomorrow is Christmas, Luna," he told her, his nose rubbing against her temple.
She glanced up at the clock, and against his mouth, she whispered, "It already is."
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