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Canis Familiaris by Paradoxically
Story Notes:
Let me make it clear right here and right now that no, I don't actually think all men are dogs. This is just a fun fic.
Break-up by Paradoxically
Author's Notes:
So I have this theory about Luna... I think the aloof/ out of it demeanor is just a mask, a way of keeping people from actually affecting her. This definitely influences the way that I write her, so I'm sure that most people will feel that she is out of character.
Luna Lovegood was, when she was in a “mood”, most certainly not a woman to be trifled with if one had any hopes for a peaceful life; her ethereal air vanished without a trace when she had been crossed. She had a tendency to become very focused on the object of her ire in those moments. Unfortunately for Blaise Zabini, he was a man who didn’t know when to quit—a right-fighter to the very end, he was most definitely the type to beat a dead horse when he had a point to prove. He also had a tendency to rely on his ability to talk his way out of almost anything. Luna seemed to have an unnatural resistance to that—as Blaise was learning all too well. A relationship that had been perfectly dignified and altogether tranquil rapidly descended into squabbling chaos sometime around the fifth month—and Draco Malfoy became an unwitting party in the rapid decay of his best friend’s bliss when, one breezy morning in late autumn, he quite literally “popped” over to Blaise’s to confirm all the details of Gregory Goyle’s stag party that night. In the half-second it took him to settle his insides after apparating, a Wedgwood vase cracked him in the ear and clattered to the floor noisily. Dead—and deadly—silence was all that followed as clapped one hand over the injured appendage, but judging by the fuming Luna on his right and the glowering Blaise on his right, he’d waltzed right into the middle of their latest altercation.

Perhaps it was that his grey matter had been a little rattled, and it could have been the sight of his own blood on his fingers when he pulled his hand from the side of his face, or maybe it was because he just didn’t have that much experience interacting with a woman that he wasn’t intent on charming into his bed, but “Bloody hell, Blaise, is this how you let that harpy treat your friends?” slipped out before he could think better of it. He completely missed the icy flash of Luna’s eyes, one that Blaise had become all too familiar with of late, as her face suddenly smoothed and her wand hand snapped up. He did register the wand pointed right at his chest, and the woman on the end of it with the dangerously flared nostrils—funny, that, noticing all the little things just a moment too late.

“Fine. If you want to be a dog like him, go right on ahead. I won’t stand for it,” she sniffed, then Apparated with a harsh crack. Draco’s eyebrows knit together in the middle of his forehead as he turned to his best friend, mouth open, surely ready to utter something else terrible.

It was probably for the best that Blaise, in a fit of pique, Stunned Draco in that moment, before he could ask what exactly she meant by that.

Yes, Draco definitely needed to notice those little things a bit sooner.
--
Ginny Weasley knew the drill all too well by this time—that frenzied knocking on her door meant that Luna had appeared at her flat. Her eyes would be fierce with rage, but that never prevented her from bursting into bewildered tears sometime before the end of the night after giving voice to her hurt. It always amazed Ginny that Blaise could make her best friend lose her ethereal composure with little to no effort at all. No one else had ever affected Luna quite the same way, which was exactly why Ginny was convinced that the two were soul mates. Privately, she thought that Luna’s imperturbable aura was just a way to keep others at arm’s length—and it was good for her to let someone past that. With a sigh—she’d really been hoping for a quiet night tonight—she drew back the bolt on the door and swung it open. For just a moment, Luna looked to be her detached, unruffled self, but burst into tears with a tiny wail as soon as Ginny opened her arms for a hug. Shushing her softly, Ginny pulled Luna over to her comfortable broken in sofa and detached herself with a slightly soggy squelch to fetch the tissues. This wasn’t good. Waterworks were supposed to wait until at least an hour in, right about the time that Ginny broke open a hand-packed quart of Florean Fortescue’s Triple Chocolate Mayhem, complete with Chocolate Frog garnish (childishly, they always named the frog Blaise and proceeded to chase it down with spoons before putting the enchanted chocolate out of its misery).

And Luna was not a pretty crier—her whole face seemed to dissolve and melt. Merlin knew she usually went through enough tissues to make it look like a blizzard had rolled through Ginny’s living quarters every time she had a tiff with Blaise. But this time, Ginny was genuinely worried. Luna and Blaise hadn’t ended things, had they? Just last week, she’d been effervescently bubbly; delighted over some vacation he had planned for them to the habitat of some obscure (and possibly unreal) animal, and wasn’t it such a good sign, that he knew her interests and listened? Ginny was sure that her friend loved Blaise, and though she was less sure of Blaise’s feelings, he surely had some inkling of how wonderful Luna was… didn’t he?

As Ginny sat next to her friend, Luna drew her knees up into her chest and let her long hair spill over her shoulder. She fixed Ginny with an unnaturally clear gaze as Ginny proffered the first tissue. “I don’t know what to do now,” she whispered, leaning her head on Ginny’s shoulder and blowing her nose heartily. One tear trickled slowly down her cheek.

Something in the region of Ginny’s heart cracked. This was not Luna, this defeated, heart-broken creature. “Well, why don’t you tell me what happened and I’ll see if I can’t come up with something?” Ginny said, injecting a false amount of cheer into the statement. She poked Luna in the ribs with one bony elbow in a bid to win a smile. “I’ll even be the judge and jury for you. Let’s see if Blaise deserves to have his balls fricasseed or maybe something more creative. I’m not a Weasley for nothing!” A bare shadow of a dimple showed itself in Luna’s cheek.

And so Ginny teased and prodded her friend into a better mood, laying it on thick enough for Luna to finally giggle just a bit. And that was reason enough to break out the wine and chocolate, which in turn led to some very interesting conversations. Somewhere after the second bowl of ice cream and before the third glass of wine, Luna started to spill the beans—and found herself utterly unable to stop.

“I told him I loved him, and he didn’t say a thing, Ginny, not a thing! For a minute I thought he must have stumbled into a nest of Nargles, but then he opened his mouth and told me that no, no, I didn’t love him, how could I possibly? I hadn’t known him long enough!” Luna huffed, her cheeks pinking with anger, before continuing sarcastically, “And he’s right you know, we haven’t been together that long, and of course I’m stupid for thinking that five months is long enough to know that I love him, how could I? And then he says that I should date other people. Diversify. We should be smart about this, date around and compare, like Draco bloody Malfoy. Like a relationship is the same shopping for a- a new mattress or something!” Ginny couldn’t help but snort in her glass at that, as she felt a secret sense of relief that Luna’s vengeful ways had returned. That, she knew how to handle. Ginny pulled a throw pillow into her lap, hiding her face so that Luna couldn’t see the start of a smile on her friend’s face as Luna continued on. “So of course we shouldn’t be exclusive, because how could I possibly know him or anyone else well enough to know that this is it, how could I trust my own judgment when my head is always in the clouds? And then he didn’t say a thing when Draco called me a harpy, seriously, a harpy Ginny, who the hell does he think he is?”

“Hold on, when did Draco show up into the middle of this?”

“Well, roughly about the same time that I threw one of Blaise’s knick-knacks.” There was that blithe, slightly dotty demeanor again. Luna was hiding something, and that Ginny knew for sure.

Ginny snorted again. “Seriously? And who were you throwing it at, Blaise or Draco? And Luna, did you forget all about your wand? You are a witch, you know, and there are all these brilliant hexes...” Luna broke off that train of thought by dealing Ginny a heavy thwap with the other throw pillow.

“I wasn’t trying to actually hit Blaise, but Draco just Apparated into the middle of everything, and it was already too late by then. And anyway, all men are dogs, so I’m convinced he deserved it anyway, giving Blaise ideas and all.”

“Wait, what did you say?”

“That Draco gave Blaise ideas?”

“No, right before that, the bit about all men?” Ginny was alert now, on the verge of what the twins like to refer to as a “diabolical breakthrough.”

“That all men are dogs?”

Ginny snapped her fingers and bounced up off the couch, eyes burning with purpose—and maybe a little too much alcohol. “That’s it! That’s his punishment—we’ll turn him into a dog!”


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