dislike ↠ draco malfoy

forty

The Death Eaters took me and Luna's wands and opened a door and shoved us down into the dungeons. We collapsed onto the cold, hard floors. It was so dark that I couldn't even see Luna.

I crawled around on the floors. "Luna?" I called. "Where did you go?"

"I'm here!" she said.

I found her voice and crawled toward her. I reached out and grabbed onto her arm so I wouldn't lose her. My eyes started to adjust to the darkness, and I could faintly see her bright eyes.

"I can't believe they did this," I muttered. "Are they just going to leave us down here?"

"I don't know," Luna answered.

"We have to get out!" I exclaimed in a panicky tone.

"Hey," Luna said, her voice switching back to its usual dreamy sound. "We'll be okay, all right? As long as we're together."

Her words seemed to instantly soothe me. I never understood that about Luna. She could say something and instantly make someone feel better.

"Yeah," I whispered. "As long as we're together."

"This is Draco's house, isn't it?" she inquired.

"I think so," I replied. "I mean, his mother and father are here, so it must be. Oh gosh, he'll probably be here soon." I looked at her. "Maybe he can help us."

Her lips pressed together. "Are you sure that Draco would help us?" she asked.

"Of course he would," I said, but my voice faltered. "Well, I think he would."

Luna looked at me as though studying my face. "I know you love him," she said.

My eyes widened. "Wha--"

"I see the way you look at him," she continued. "And I see the way he looks at you, too. He loves you. I'm very good at observing people, you know. I've gone years with no friends, so I've gotten good at it."

I shook my head. "You're wrong, Luna. I don't love Draco."

"Stop lying to yourself," she said. "And it's okay if you love him. He's changed, Evangeline. I know he has. He's better now."

I gulped. I had never even thought about being in love with Draco. It had never even come to my mind. But then I thought about how I felt when I was around him, like there were butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. How I felt when I kissed him, like I was melting into him.

"Maybe I do love Draco," I said. "But I'm not sure if he'll help us. He's very loyal to his father, and his father is very loyal to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Well then we'll just have to wait," Luna said. "And see if he does."

I sighed. "Well, while we're waiting, we might as well explore our new home," I said sarcastically, gesturing around at the dungeon.

Still clutching Luna's arm, we stood up. My eyes had now completely adjusted to the darkness, and although I couldn't see everything, I could see my general surroundings. It was completely bare. There was no furniture, no bed, nothing to sit on. There was absolutely nothing.

There was a grunt from behind us, and we both spun around. Sitting on the floor against the wall was an old man with long grey hair. He looked awful, as though he had been in this dungeon for months. His skin was pale and he was very thin.

Luna crept forward. "Mr. Ollivander?" she asked.

I squinted my eyes, and I recognized the man from seven years ago when I had bought my wand. This was Ollivander, the wandmaker.

"Hello, children," he said, his voice dry.

"How long have you been here?" I asked, my eyes wide.

He shifted. "Oh, well, I'm not completely sure. Is it still summer?"

"It's winter," I replied. "It's nearly Christmas."

"Dear god," he muttered. "I've been here since...July, I believe."

"July?" I exclaimed. "That was five months ago. You've been in this dungeon for five months?"

He nodded gravely. "Yes.. I suppose I have."

"I remember when I first heard of your disappearance," Luna said, her head tilting. "And you were here, in this dungeon, the whole time."

"Yes," he said. He looked up closer at the both of us. "I think I remember your faces... I'm not sure, though."

"I'm Luna Lovegood," Luna said. She gestured to me. "And this is Evangeline Hastings."

"Ah, yes," said Ollivander. "I sold you your wands, didn't I?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Listen, we have to find a way out of this place."

Ollivander shook his head. "I'm afraid there's no way out."

"There has to be a way out," I said. "There has to be."

He looked at me with a grim expression on his face. "I've been in here for five months," he said. "Don't you think I would have found a way out already if there is one? There isn't."

I sank down to the floor. "Are we every going to get out of here?"

"I don't know, dear," Ollivander said quietly.