Luna Lovegood is resting in the Astronomy Tower when the Hogwarts Hooligans approach her. 

She is sitting on the ledge, swinging her feet, confident, for reasons unbeknownst to them, that she will not fall. She knows the truth and if the truth is that she will not fall, that sure danger is not set in her path, then it is as is. 

"Harry," she greets. She doesn't greet the others. Draco sticks up his nose, because he has always been an entitled Pureblood and all that will not change just because he has got a crush. I Am Owed An Introduction. (He's not.) Hermione takes no offense. "How are you?"

"Swell," he says. He knows he serves his heart and he serves justice (he's hesitant to admit that they do not always overlap.) And he knows, more than he knows he cannot trust Albus and that he loves Ron and Hermione, that Luna serves the truth, even if it is her very own brand. He is very prepared for such. It is why he came. "I was wondering if you knew something that has been troubling me."

Draco finds their exaggerated type of talk both obnoxious and endearing. It is an inside joke he has not been let in on and it leaves him unsure if he should be laughing. 

"Ask away."

"Do you, sire, know who cursed me?" Harry taps his head and it is all the context Luna needs.

And Luna almost wants to lie -- the urge is very much there. But something small whispers in her ear and her ear alone, and she says, "Aye." She has known for far too long now. 

Harry would be excited at this confession. Would be, if not for the somber tone she carries and the disappointment that she has known and did not tell him. Because, really, if she has known, then why did she seel her lips? Why did she sit by him in a field of grass, hand him a potion, and tell him about her troubles with the Ministry? Why would he promise that he would help if she would not return the favor?

He gets where this is going, because his head is not riddled (Riddled) with nightmares, because his hand is scarred and healing, and his dissociation all but gone, and his mind is his own. He gets where this is going. He does not like it.

But Draco Malfoy, ever the charmer, seems to understand, too, and is more mad than Harry is. Harry admires him for it. "There's two options then, huh? Either you know who fucked with his head, and are on their side, a double agent best at play, or...

"Or you cursed him."

Hermione chirps, "Draco!" but Luna is not offended. She's not mad her acquaintance -- her friend of a friend -- would suspect her. She's not mad at all.

She gets it. 

"Aye," she repeats. 

This time, it is not only Hermione filled with rage. But, needless to say, she holds enough anger to fill an ocean.