Luna shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve got enough free time and I’d rather do something useful with it. Unless you think I’m not qualified?”
“Um…that depends.” Draco cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?”
“Oh, I’ve got lots of ideas,” Luna exclaimed, leaning forward. “I’d really like to teach the kids about all different kinds of magical creatures and Muggle animals. I’ve been doing a lot of reading and it’s fascinating. Oh, and I also thought it might be really cool to do some Muggle baking with them. Hermione showed me and it’s so much more fun than our way. Oh, OH, and I was thinking about swimming lessons and some Muggle sports!”
After his initial shock, Draco couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “It’s an infant school, not the Triwizard Tournament,” he sniggered. “But your ideas don’t sound too bad. I think they might like it.”
“Am I hired, then?”
Draco discreetly bit the inside of his cheek, which Luna seemed to notice.
“I won’t tell anyone about you. I promise,” she said.
Draco let out a sigh, hoping he wouldn’t regret this decision. “Alright. Meet me there on Tuesday at nine. I’ll show you around and introduce you to the others.”
“Great,” Luna beamed. Funnily enough, her cheerfulness wasn’t as annoying as Draco would have expected. It was almost contagious.
Monday, 20 January 2003
“That was fun! I haven’t been flying in ages.”
Draco quietly cleared his throat. Seeing Potter this happy and excited was doing terrible things to his heart.
“Yeah, I figured,” he said in his most haughty voice. “You weren’t able to keep up with me. You’ve let yourself go.” Draco’s smirk slowly faded when he caught the sudden emptiness in Potter’s eyes and the way he was clutching at his broom. What just happened? It wasn’t like Potter not to have a comeback.
“I was kidding,” Draco said, feeling extremely awkward. Bickering with Potter was easy. This, however, whatever it was, was uncomfortable. Potter seemed to think so as well and visibly tried to compose himself as he fumbled with his scarf.
“How about a rematch tomorrow?” he said, trying to sound lighthearted, but Draco could tell he was faking it.
“I can’t tomorrow.”
“Why?”
Draco inwardly smirked. Potter’s voice was dripping with disapproval. “I already have plans.”
“With whom?”
“I’m sorry, was I supposed to get your permission first?” Draco quipped. His heart skipped a beat when he saw how flustered Potter suddenly was.
“I didn’t mean—I was just—I—”
“Merlin, Potter,” Draco laughed. The prat was too endearing for his own good. “I’m meeting Luna.”
“Really?”
“I know. It’s the last thing I would have expected.”
“So…is this…like…a date?”
Potter wasn’t actually…jealous, was he? And if he was…was he jealous of Luna or Draco?
“Is it?” Potter looked like he was trying very hard to keep his cool.
“Maybe,” Draco shrugged. “You never know with Lovegood. She’s very…unique.” Draco had to force himself not to snigger when he saw the shock on Potter’s face. “Actually, I’m taking her somewhere I’ve never taken anyone before.”
Oh boy, was he overplaying it? Potter looked like his head was about to explode.
“Would you…Would you ever take me there?”
Draco stiffened. The obvious answer was No.
Or was it?
“Maybe…someday,” he said, evasively.
“So…is it a romantic spot?”
Draco snorted with laughter before he could stop himself.
“So it’s not really a date,” Potter said, to which Draco rolled his eyes.
“No, it’s not a date, Potter.”
“Okay…”
The way Potter was staring at the ground and fumbling with his scarf was unnerving. Draco could tell he wanted to say something else.
“You want to know where I’m taking her, don’t you?”
“Pfft, no,” Potter said with a scoff.
“Right,” Draco smirked.
“You’re not as mysterious as you’d like to be, you know,” Potter said. “I’m pretty sure wherever you’re taking her, it’s going to be full of pompous, snobbish people. I bet it’s going to be boring.”
“Oh, Potter, believe me when I say, it would blow your mind.”
“I doubt that. You’re so predictable.”
“I’m anything but predictable.”
“I knew you were going to say that. I guess Luna will be pretty disappointed tomorrow when she—”
“Fuck you, Potter! Nine am. I’ll send you the address.”
“Oh, I wasn’t—”
“Don’t be late.”
