A/N: By George, I do believe this is the last chapter. Can you believe it? It's been a long ride, and I want to thank everyone who reviewed, alerted, favorited, or even just read a bit now and then. After an intense writer's block, my Harry Potter muse has returned (praise be to God!). So although this is the last chapter of Eleanor Rigby, I certainly plan on writing more HP fics.

Disclaimer: I only wish I could own a fraction of the genius that is Harry Potter.

"I have to do it."

"I know."

"They'll kill my family if I don't."

"I know."

"This doesn't mean I'll ever stop loving you."

"I know, Draco."

It was the last day of the spring term, and Draco and Luna had come to the Owlery for old times' sake. They sat together on the windowsill, Luna's dangling legs tangled into Draco's longer ones. As the sun began to set over the lake, she turned into him and inhaled the scent that was Draco, cool and smooth and so very Slytherin. Draco's fingers played with the ends of her moonshine hair.

They stayed like that for a long time, holding onto all they had experienced that year. Draco had found a confidant, an open ear. He learned to trust others-a skill he'd never known or valued-and that someone, somewhere, cared about him. Luna had gained the best kind of strength; that to support those who depended on you through their hardest times. She had, for the first time, been needed, and it made her happy. They had learned much from each other; that love is not a vulnerability but a strength, that sometimes good people are victims of their own lives, and most importantly that the worst loathing can make the best of friendships.

Now, as they loafed in the Owlery, Draco spoke.

"Just know that-that no matter where I am, no matter whom I'm with, I'm wishing I were with you."

"I do wish you would visit Daddy and me this summer. We would love to have you, even if we would have to miss some prime searching days for the Crumple-Horned Snorcack." Luna sighed wistfully, longing for her father, her home.

Draco smiled sadly. "I wish I could, Luna, you know that. But this war is just beginning, and they have to trust where my loyalties lie."

Luna swung her legs inside, sliding off the sill. Draco watched as she wandered amidst the owls, stroking their feathers and murmuring to them.

"Promise me that you won't lose yourself," she said eventually. "You can be a Death Eater, you can fight for Lord Voldemort, but don't ever change what you believe. I don't care if you're a self-righteous pureblooded prat, Draco Malfoy, but don't start thinking that's all anyone should be."

"Luna, honestly, love. Do you think just anyone could pull off being the whole package? It's hard enough for me," Draco mocked, sliding back into the Owlery.

"I'm serious, Draco. Swear to me that whatever happens-with Voldemort, with Hogwarts, with us-that you will know what's right."

"Luna," Draco breathed, loving the way her name lilted off his tongue. He stepped close to her, grabbing her arms in his hands. "There are two sides to this war, and we both know where I stand. I know what's right."

Luna leaned up and kissed him once, twice, three times for luck. "I just wish it was easier for you," she whispered into his ear, standing on her toes.

"I have to join them to keep my family safe."

"You're a boy making a man's choices," she reasoned.

Draco shook his head. "I haven't been a boy in ages. I reckon I won't ever be one again. But all this weariness, this darkness, it brought me to you. And for that I'll always be thankful."

Instead of saying goodbye, Luna kissed Draco.

21 years later

Luna knelt next to Lysander, buttoning up his jacket. She took Lorcan's hand, pulling him next to his brother, and faced both her sons.

"Now, boys, I want you to have a great year. Remember to always answer the tower door seriously, it doesn't like being mocked. Keep up with your studies and make sure to write at least once a week. Always keep your dirigible plum in your pocket, and practice the charms I taught you this summer." Luna Scamander nearly shouted to be heard over the bustle in King's Cross. It was nearly time to board the train.

Both boys nodded to their mother, lavender eyes darting about in search of friends. Rolf had said goodbye to their children a few days prior; he had left for a magizoologic research trip in Nicaragua two days ago.

"Come, give Mummy a hug."

Loran and Lysander obliged, and the family held each other strong before the boys turned to board. As Luna reached for their luggage, she bumped elbows with a stranger. Looking up to apologize, she found herself staring into the startled eyes of Draco Malfoy. His hairline has receded some but his eyes were just as steely, his complexion just as pale. In his eyes Luna saw so much-shock, recognition, wist, love, so much love-but just as he opened his mouth, a cool woman took his arm.

"Come, Draco, wave to Scorpius," she said, her voice smooth and aristocratic.

Just like that, he was gone. Luna handed her sons their luggage, told them she loved them, and watched them board. This was her family, her joy, her love and life. But there had been a time when Draco Malfoy had been all those things to her, long ago though it was. And as she turned his way, glancing at him as she remembered each laugh, each tear, each kiss, she saw that he was looking at her, too.

Eleanor Rigby, wearing the face she keeps in the jar by the door.

Who is it for?

All the lonely people. Where do they all come from?

All the lonely people. Where do they all belong?

Father Mackenzie, writing the words to a sermon that no one will hear.

No one comes near.

All the lonely people. Where do they all come from?

All the lonely people. Where do they all belong?

A/N: 21 years after Luna's fifth year and Draco's sixth year, Rose, Scorpius, Lorcan, Lysander, and a whole other slew of next-gen babies would be going into their second year.

It's been a long and winding road, but thanks to everyone who alerted, favorited, reviewed, or even just lingered. All your feedback means so much to me, and I can't wait to become more involved in the HP fandom.