The Spring of the Satyr

Hermione sat shivering on the cold marble bench, her eyes fastened on the spot in the tall hedge where he’d disappeared – as if he would come back and explain everything in the few seconds before his son appeared.

“Gods Hermione!” Draco said, hurrying to her side, “I looked all over the manor for you. What are you doing? It’s freezing out here!”

“I’d like to go home now.” Hermione said blankly.

He looked at her, a forlorn expression covering his handsome face. “I’m so sorry about Mother.” Draco said, a note of pleading in his voice. “Please don’t go yet! We haven’t even had dinner. You can’t miss the Malfoy Christmas Ball dinner. It’s terrific!” He put his arm around her shoulders and led her back into the ballroom. “At least come in where it’s warm.”

An army of wizards in bright scarlet dress robes were in the process of floating in tables to line the outer walls of the ballroom. As each one settled in it’s spot it suddenly blossomed with platters and bowls of hot, steaming food. The scent of garlic, savory herbs, roasted beef and turkey assailed Hermione’s nostrils. She felt her stomach growl and realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“All right, I’ll stay for dinner, but then I’d like to go.” She whispered to him, causing him to smile delightedly.

Somehow, dinner led to “just one more dance” with Draco, which led to one more with Kingsley, which led to her first dance with Horace Slughorn, her school potions master. As they danced a quick-footed jig, Slughorn merrily regaled her with the tale of a potion a sixth year Hufflepuff had made that year.

“The silly girl was supposed to make a potion that would temporarily turn an enemy into a friend; instead she created a lust potion like I’ve never seen in all my years!” He snorted in amusement. “Every single student who breathed the vapor coming from the cauldron fell passionately in love with the first person they saw! Boys with girls, boys with boys, girls with girls, it didn’t matter at all! It took Madame Pomfrey and I a straight week to set things right.”

The story made Hermione suddenly think about the strange water of the spring and how it had affected her when she’d touched it. It had been almost like a lust potion!

“Professor Slughorn, do you know anything about a magical hot springs? In England?” She asked hopefully.

Slughorn thought carefully for a moment before answering. “I think I recall something about one in Southern England somewhere.” His round face scrunched as he dug the recesses of his brain. “Yes,,,, I think it was called The Spring of the Minotaur or The Spring of the Satyr or something silly like that. Of course the location of it has been lost for over a century.” He wiggled his bushy, caterpillar eyebrows up and down and grinned. “Trust me, many witches and wizards have looked.”

“Was it supposed to be anywhere near Bath?” She asked, heartbeat accelerating.

“Yes,, it would have been around there somewhere.” He said, smiling. He suddenly remembered the rumors and studies about the Spring and he smiled even wider. So, Little Miss Bookworm was interested in feeling the effect of The Spring was she?? Well well, sometimes people could still surprise him!

Hermione looked thoughtful, then earnest. “Professor, what does the spring do? I mean what effect is it supposed to have? Is it like the potion? Does it make the person touching it fall in love?”

Slughorn met his student’s brown eyes and felt his face turn red. “Well my dear, I’m not sure this is an appropriate conversation to have with a student, but, you’re of age after all.” He met her interested gaze again. “I wouldn’t actually say the Spring’s effects have anything to do with LOVE.,,,,” He let the statement hang.
Hermione looked at him in confusion for a moment before his meaning occurred to her. “Oh!” She paused for a moment. “So it is supposed to be like a lust potion?”

“Yes my dear, just on a much grander scale!” He enthused, beginning to sweat. “I remember reading that if a wizard and witch were to bathe in it together their passion for each other would last their whole lives! Imagine, feeling that brand-new, can’t keep your hands off each other, rip each other’s clothes off, beginning of a romance passion well into your nineties!” He chuckled lecherously. “Although I couldn’t say what it would do to the rest of your body at that age!”

“When you say “whole lives” what do you mean by that?” Hermione’s heart pounded as his meaning filled her with fear. “That’s just a saying right?”

Slughorn looked thoughtful and then shook his head adamantly. “No, I remember it clearly. The legend says that the bond is supposed to be for the lifespan of the couple, eternal.” Noticing the rapidly whitening face and amplified breathing of his dance partner, he slowed his steps. “Miss Granger are you alright?”

Composing herself, Hermione tried to smile. Oh Lord! What had Lucius Malfoy done to her in that Spring? She cursed her shattered memories.

Slughorn looked at the bright, feverish eyes of the young beauty in his arms and felt an old, familiar tingle in places he’d thought were long dead. True, he was old enough to be her grandfather,, but if she wished to try he was sure he still had a bit of the old juice in him,,,. He held her waist tighter and smiled hopefully.

Thoroughly disgusted, Hermione extricated herself from the old potion master’s quickly strengthening embrace. “Thank you PROFESSOR!” She huffed, nearly running across the ball room to get away. She found an unoccupied wall and propped herself up, pretending to watch the dancers. Draco, dancing nearby with a lovely young brunette, caught her eye and smiled.

“Are you okay?” He mouthed.

Hermione smiled encouragingly and nodded. She picked up an empty cup off a nearby table and pretended to drink. Her mind flew over the possibilities and Professor Slughorn’s words churned through her tangled thoughts. “Lifespan, eternity, passion, rip each other’s clothes off.” Hermione thoughts were increasingly panicked. She scanned the room for the object of her every thought. He was nowhere to be seen.

***

“But WHY can’t I sleep with you tonight?” Draco was furious. Other than the incident with his mother they’d had a wonderful evening! He’d let her dance with any older wizard she wanted! Okay, so he chased away all of the younger ones,, but that was only to be expected wasn’t it? All evening he’d fought the urge to throw that dress up over her head and take her right there on the dance floor. Only the thought that she was his and he would have her later had kept him in check. Now he couldn’t come up to her room?

“Answer me Hermione!” He demanded.

“I told you Draco,” She answered in growing exasperation, “I’m very, very tired, and I really need to think about some things.”

Draco’s cheeks filled with color. “Is it because of what I said to you tonight?” His heart felt like wood in his chest. Was she pulling away now that she knew how he felt about her? He’d been so scared to tell her, though he’d felt it since the first night. It wasn’t in his nature to leave himself so vulnerable. Yet he’d done it, and been hurt when she hadn’t replied in kind. He thought maybe she’d just been waiting for a more private opportunity, but now, suddenly, he knew he was wrong.

“What you said? What did you say?” Hermione asked, perplexed.

Pain cutting a gaping wound in his heart, Draco’s eyes turned cold. “That I love you Hermione. I told you I that loved you.” He turned away, hiding the depth of his hurt. “I thought it was a “moment”, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

Feeling like a monster, Hermione put her arms comfortingly around his waist and pulled him close. She knew what it must have cost him to be the first to say it. The stiff tension in his back filled her with trepidation. She might not be able to honestly tell him that she returned all of his feelings, but she did care for him! “Oh Draco I’m so sorry!” Tears of sorrow, fatigue and frustration filled her eyes. She tried to turn him around but he stood rigid, unwilling to face her. “I heard you, I did!”

He turned and faced her, eyes lit from within with a ferocity that was frightening. “Then say it back Hermione!” He demanded callously. “All this time together and YOU’VE never said it. Tell me you love me!”

Silently she stood stock still, tears running down her cheeks, eyes downcast and unable to meet the demanding accusation in his gaze. Unsure of how to heal his pain without admitting to something that she wasn’t sure was true, she pressed her lips against his and slid her hands inside of his cloak. “Come up to my room Draco. Please.”

He pushed her hands away from him as if they burned his skin. “Is this all I am to you Hermione? Someone to shag?” Angry tears filled his eyes and he tried unsuccessfully to will them away. A horrible, stomach clenching thought filled his being. “Are you just USING me?”

Crying harder, Hermione clutched at his cloak. “No Draco!” She insisted. “I truly care for you, you know I do!”

“THEN SAY IT!” He shouted, causing the light on the Granger’s front porch to come on and Hermione’s parents to glance worriedly out the window. Draco, seeing the concerned faces staring at him in alarm, took a deep breath. He stared at the witch he’d come to adore and felt something break inside him. Why didn’t she love him?
“Okay Hermione, have it your way. “ He said coldly, not bothering to hide the wetness on his face. “ I’ll be at the manor if you want to talk to me, ,,, probably.”

Before Hermione could move he was gone. Stunned, she sat on the top step of her parent’s porch and took deep, shuddery breaths, sobbing her heart out.
**