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"You didn't have to come."
Draco looks over at the waif of a woman beside him, the sea breeze blowing her hair behind her, eyes closed with a serene smile on her face. She was beautiful in a way that had no room for him.
"I wanted to. You know that."
"I don't need your protection." She turned that contented smile on him and slipped her hand in his. "But I appreciate your friendship."
Friendship. The word was a bitter taste in his mouth, a dark shadow in his heart. But he held his tongue, knowing he had said his piece, had done his confessing and emptying, baring himself to her in a way he'd never done before, only to have her simply smile and tell him he'd get over her.
That he'd love again.
His hand felt clammy in hers.
"What's your plan, Luna? Are you going to just walk into the water? You can't even cast a proper Bubble-Head charm. Remember when we were in Southern California, and you were convinced the bioluminescent waves were actually accumulated stardust?"
She burst into a lyrical laugh, her hand gripping his elbow for support. "Oh yes! I tried to gather it, but it was only algae. It was delightful. I managed all right, though, faulty charm and all."
"Because I was there and cast a floatation charm." He kicked at the sand, feeling desperately unhinged, as though he was about to lose something vital and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
He wasn't sure if he loved her, but he wanted the chance to find out. Even though she'd said... No. She had been very clear. There was nothing to explore.
Nothing between them.
"Must we always dress like this when traipsing through wild jungles?" Draco pulled a thorny vine off his trousers, wishing he could simply blast a path through the undergrowth. But that would highly upset the flora and fauna, and he'd been expressly forbidden from anything of the sort by both her father, who had hired him, and Luna herself.
He was there only to protect her; his personal comfort was of no consequence to them. He could boil in his clothes, freeze in the arctic, get bitten by insects all and sundry, face unknown creatures both magical or otherwise, wear mosquito netting like a ridiculous swamp creature. But he couldn't make their trek any easier with a little magic.
Luna laughed her musical laugh, smiling at him over her shoulder. "Oh, Draco. This is part of the journey."
"I look terrible in khaki." He scowled at his ensemble. "Washes me out completely."
"I think you're completely adorable." She winked and continued leading the way.
Merlin help him, he was really starting to like her winks and her laughs and her nonsensical babble.
"I've got gillyweed." She held up a large pouch. "It's enough for hours down there. I've got this shell I found in my father's things. It's filled with magic, I can feel it. It's a different kind of magic than I've ever felt before, yet it feels familiar, too. Safe."
"I assume you've brought enough for two?"
She looked at him, a rare look of astonishment on her face. "You want to come with me?"
He snorted. "Your father hired me to protect you, remember? Only good luck trying to tell him you don't need protecting." He'd learned that after their trip into the wilds of Australia. Luna was more than capable of handling herself, but Draco had enjoyed the money and the travel, especially as it took him out of England where he wasn't quite welcome.
"He didn't hire you for this." Her voice was so quiet he almost didn't hear her. The sadness in her words made his heart ache.
"No."
"Then why are you here, Draco?"
As he stared out over the endless expanse of water, he asked himself the same question for the hundredth time. The ocean provided no answer.
He felt ridiculous. He was wearing seal blubber; it was touching his skin. He'd begged to be allowed to use a heating charm, but that had been against the rules. No magic in the Arctic Circle; it would scare away the creatures that come out during the Northern Lights.
Draco never saw a single one, but he watched from his suit of lard as Luna danced around, gleefully spinning under the sky.
She'd told him once that she didn't feel like she quite belonged on the earth, and when he watched her like this, he almost let himself believe it.
It happened the first time in Peru. Luna was there with a team—she always was—but she'd given them the night off to go into the nearest city.
"You should take your own advice." Draco had stayed with her, of course. "Go into the city. Eat real food, not this camping shite." What he wouldn't give to eat a meal at a proper table with proper utensils. There were definitely parts of the job he hated and always would. Though his present position—in a hammock with a good book—was always enjoyable.
"No. There are some things I want to get done without anybody around." She pulled her long, blonde hair up and tied it in a ponytail. Her back was to him as she stood in front of her makeshift desk.
Draco couldn't help but stare. Jungle attire was decidedly different from her usual robes. Luna wore a racerback tank top and shorts that barely covered her arse. Though she wasn't tall, her legs were shapely, toned and bronzed by the hours in the sun.
When she bent over to retrieve something off the ground, he swallowed hard and tore his gaze away. He was there as protection, and he didn't think Xenophilus would appreciate him ogling his charge. But Merlin, it was hard not to.
Luna sat down and started writing, and Draco went back to his book, but it was useless now; all he could think about was Luna's curves. He swung out of the hammock and set his book down. "I'm getting some air. It's fucking hot."
The glint in her eye should have caught his attention, but he barely spared her a glance as he left the large tent. It wasn't much better outside, but there was a slight breeze and no beautiful woman within arm's reach. He told himself he only looked because they'd been living out of tents for two weeks in the jungle, but the truth was that it hasn't started this trip. He'd been noticing her more and more each time, and it was now impossible to ignore her.
"Draco? Could you help me with something?"
He sighed heavily and returned to the tent, probably to give his input on something they'd observed earlier that day.
Luna was standing at the large table that day in the middle of the tent, leaving on her hands as she surveyed a map. "Come look at this."
Draco stood on the opposite side of the table and tried to see what she was pointing at.
"Over here, silly."
Forcing himself to think about maps and the ponds of fetid water they'd slushed through that day, he went around to stand beside her.
Luna's finger never moved, and neither did she, making it hard for him to see without getting very close in her personal space. She was pointing to a lake, the one they'd been trying to find but suspected was surrounded by magical enchantments to keep people away.
He stood and faced her, a question ready, but he never got to ask it. She kissed him, hard and furious, pulling at his shirt as she swept the map of the table. Somehow she managed to sit on the table and wrap her legs around his waist before he even knew what hit him.
But by then he was far beyond caring. The heat—the exquisite, liquid heat of the jungle—drove them, and before long, the table was rocking, creaking in time with their movements, the jungle swallowing their cries as they crashed together into bliss like he had never known.
"It's time. I won't try to stop you if you really want to join me."
"I'm coming." His reply was gruffer than he'd intended, but it suited his mood. "You've never needed me on land, but down there may be a different story."
"You've always been there for me, Draco. I appreciate that more than you know." She released his hand and pulled a handful of gillyweed from her pouch.
He took his portion, his thoughts swirling with emotion. It was never enough, though. Or he wasn't enough. He had never known where they stood, even when they slept together. She was always the same, no matter what. Screaming his name in ecstasy or gushing over some obscure plant. Luna had one setting, and it never really included him.
He hadn't seen her in over six months when she owled him to say her father had died. Her expeditions—the only times he saw her—were sporadic. With her father ill, she'd put a halt to them. She hadn't spared a single word to Draco about where they stood, what she might have felt for him. Just complete and utter silence.
He'd gotten the message anyway.
He was an outlet, a path to a release, nothing more.
A friend, she called him.
Well, she was the only friend he'd ever fucked regularly.
"Let's get going, shall we?" Without waiting for a reply, he shoved the gillyweed in his mouth.
Even in bitter grief, she was still Luna. Dressed in black, a veil over her face, she was still as radiant as he remembered. Her eyes met his briefly as the casket was lowered into the ground. They were rimmed in red but clear and strong.
He had no intention of speaking to her, but she caught him on the way out and gave him a hug—a hug like you give a friend you haven't seen in a long time, not a lover you can't live without.
He let her, his hands balled into fists. "I'm sorry for your loss."
She sniffled then and released him, dabbing her face with a handkerchief. "Thank you for coming, Draco."
Then she was surrounded again, and he melted away.
The water was bitingly cold, but he'd expected nothing less from the North Sea. As he fought to swallow the rubbery plant, he heard Luna follow him into the water.
He'd used gillyweed before on a trip down the Mississippi River with her, so he knew what to expect. As soon as he started gasping for air, he plunged into the water. Luna was beside him in an instant, the shell of her mother's in her hand. She closed her eyes and the shell glowed for an instant.
Then she smiled and pointed, taking off before he could respond. They dove deep, the water darkening with every fathom, until Draco began to despair of ever finding the surface again.
All was pitch black for what felt like eons until a faint light appeared below them, growing brighter by the minute.
Merfolk appeared in the dusky water, their wide, purple eyes gaping at them. Draco had interacted with a different tribe of merfolk once, so he knew something of their customs, but every tribe was different. Luna, however, was single-minded, not pausing or slowing as she swam further into the domain of the merfolk.
All the creatures they passed followed them, until there was a full procession escorting them to the gate of the city. Luna showed the shell to the gatekeeper, and the merman's eyes widened. There was rapid talk amongst the group gathered, then the gatekeeper motioned for Draco and Luna to follow him.
More merfolk watched them pass until the gatekeeper stopped outside what was clearly the royal palace. Draco looked at Luna, but her eyes were on the stately home she could see through the bars of the gate. They were then led into the palace, straight to the throne room where the king of the merfolk was speaking to some of his subjects.
Draco and Luna waited while the gatekeeper went to speak to the king. His eyes were on Luna the whole time, making Draco feel slightly anxious. He protectively moved closer to Luna, keeping his eyes on the king and feeling for his wand—not that he had any hope of successfully fighting his way out, should it come to that.
The king rose and motioned for them to follow, and he led them into a side room that didn't make sense. One half of it was water, and the other half, somehow, contained air. The water and air weren't separated by anything physical; magic kept the two elements apart. The king motioned for them to join him in the water half of the room, and when he spoke, they could understand him.
"I am King Jerb. In all my years, we've never had humans down here. Who are you, and why have you come?"
Luna gave the king the same placid smile she gave everyone, the one that used to make Draco feel special and now only felt like a stab to his heart.
"I'm here looking for my mother." She held out the shell that had led them here, and the king gasped. Luna then told him how she had started the journey and how she'd finally understood everything her father had left behind. When she finished, she looked the king bravely in the eye. "Do you know my mother?"
Nine days after Xenophilus's funeral, Luna wrote him again, asking for his help.
With a bitter laugh, he remembered that those were the words she'd used to lure him back into the tent that first time. Naturally, he went.
She didn't want to sleep with him, though he hadn't really expected it. What she wanted was to have one last adventure with him.
"My father was very sick at the end, but he had moments of lucidity." She peered at him with her wide, hauntingly beautiful eyes. "Near the end, he told me to find my mother. Which is impossible because she's dead. But he was rather insistent, even said something about his old notes."
Luna paused, a rare shadow passing over her. "I had all his notes, and I went through them after the funeral, and at first I didn't see anything strange. On a second pass, however, I realized what was missing: everything before he married my mother. I searched the house and finally found an old trunk, shoved against the wall, under the bed, shrouded in concealment charms. Inside… well."
She now motioned to an old trunk on the table. "My father used to be interested in aquatic magical plants and creatures. It was his obsession. He traveled the world studying them, and at some point, he found a tribe of merfolk, and... my mother."
Draco's entire body reacted with a hot wave of shock. "What do you mean?"
"I don't really know for sure. But his last journal entries mention that he made contact with someone from the tribe and was going to speak to them again. Three months later, my parents were married, and he never studied water life again."
"You think your mother was a merwoman?"
Their eyes met briefly, and he saw a mix of excitement and trepidation in hers. "I think she is a merwoman. I think, like the legend, she had to go back to the ocean. And merfolk have powerful magic, so they altered my father's memories—my memories—to make us think she'd died. But I've always felt her, so maybe she's really still alive. I want to find her. Or at least her tribe."
"Of course. How can I help?"
Help turned out to be an old book, buried deep in the Manor's library, on merfolk, containing a legend of a union between a human and a merwoman.
Luna read it to him, her melodic voice enchanting him.
The story told of a merwoman who was spotted by a fisherman. She charmed him with her beauty, and he drew her in with his words of love. Her father was the king of the merfolk, and to his dismay, she wanted to leave the water and marry the fisherman. Her father permitted it out of love for her, and with his powerful magic, he exchanged her tail for legs. He warned her that if she ever came in contact with the sea again, even one small drop, that she would begin to experience a longing for the ocean that she wouldn't be able to resist. Eventually, she would have to return to the water, where she would return to the form of a merwoman, never to walk on land again.
She accepted this whole-heartedly, and she and the fisherman lived happily for many years. They had children and grandchildren, and they loved each other more every day. Then, one day, the fisherman found his wife missing. He searched all over for her, finally ending up at the water, though he didn't know why he went there. The king of the merfolk was waiting, and when he saw the fisherman, he pointed his trident at him, and completely removed the memory of his daughter. The magic extended to all who had known her, and the fisherman went to his grave believing his wife had died.
"She must have touched the ocean." Luna reverently caressed the pages of the book. "And she had to leave."
She was tucked into an oversized chair in Draco's flat, a place she'd never been before, and he wanted to take her to his bed and keep her there. But she was slipping away from him already, he knew, so he told himself he'd be content with one last night.
Instead, she patted his hand with a sympathetic look when he tried to kiss her. "Thank you, Draco. This means everything." And she left him with a peck on the cheek when he desperately wanted her heart.
Luna's mother was, even by human standards, beautiful, and Draco could see why her father had fallen in love with her. After all, Luna looked just like her mother.
He wasn't privy to their conversation, which lasted over an hour, he merely tried to relax in the side of the room full of air while he waited. Finally he became aware that Luna, her mother, and the King were talking about him. He looked at Luna, who left the others and walked over to him.
"Draco, it's time to go."
He hid his delight as best he could; he'd been afraid she would somehow stay. "Great. I'm ready when you are."
Then and only then did Luna's expression become troubled. She stood on her toes and put her hand on his face, then kissed him. It wasn't a peck and it wasn't chaste; she kissed him like she wanted to memorize him.
He pulled her tight against him, forgetting everything else, wanting only more of this, more of her. But it ended far too soon, and she released him, taking his hand.
"Thank you for coming here with me. You're a true friend, Draco." Then she released him and walked back toward her mother.
Alarm bells started going off in his mind, but he was rooted to the spot, unable to move as he watched her reach the barrier between water and air. She put her hand into the water, and the King touched her with his trident. Her body began to shimmer and glow, and to his horror, Luna was transformed into a mermaid. She swam into the water half of the room, leaving Draco alone.
He could only stare at her, bereft and devastated. Then the king pointed his trident at Draco.
When he woke up, he was lying on the beach, waves licking his body. He sat up on his elbows, confused for a moment about where he was. Then he recognized the beach; it was one he frequented as a child, though why he was there now, he couldn't remember. Not to mention he was fully clothed, down to his shoes. Oh, right. He had a meeting later today about a piece of art his mother was interested in. Draco stood up and dried himself off. It was early enough in the day that there weren't any people around. He brushed the dust off and headed for home.