The Spring of the Satyr

The next two days passed so slowly that Hermione wondered if some time-altering spell had been cast. True to his word, Draco hadn’t contacted her. She thought she would lose her mind. “I’ll go to him.” She thought for the millionth time. “I’ll tell him I’m sorry and beg him to come back.” A snide, knowing voice spoke in her head – “And maybe run into his father while you’re there, eh?”

“No!” She told the voice, knowing she was lying. “The only things I want from Lucius Malfoy are the answers to my questions!”

“Liar.”

Fed up with discussing things and arguing with only the voices in her head, Hermione flung open the doors of her wardrobe. She would go to Malfoy Manor and find Draco, talk to him, beg him to come back. That was ALL she would do, and she would get the hell out of there as fast as she could!

**

Lucius Malfoy sipped on his third glass of scotch and stared into the large, blazing fire in the grate. His long, elegant fingers danced over the cold, smooth glass, caressing it. He thought about Draco, still, to the best of his knowledge, holed-up in his room. The boy was impossibly miserable. Unable to help himself, Lucius smiled.

The sight of his son with the woman who’d controlled his every waking thought for the last three years had been enough to drive him mad. The sight of her with ANY other man would have done the job of making him jealous, yet for some reason the fact that she’d been with his son had hurt slightly worse. When Draco had come back to the ball, alone and so obviously broken, Lucius had been torn between pity for the boy and the desire to dance with glee.

His thoughts strayed repeatedly to the conversation he’d had with her in the garden. He tried to imagine how memories that he’d thrust so deeply into her mind could be resurfacing so quickly. Perhaps in the depths of his agony he’d mangled the spell, but no. He’d been careful!

He considered her request,,,, again. The thought of allowing her to remember his feelings for her, and hers for him--he’d dreamed of it! But how? How could he rip the never-healing scab off the wound and let it start again? It would destroy any hope of a relationship with Draco, her reputation and in the end, when the age difference really became an issue and she left him for someone younger, it would destroy him too.

Draining the glass, he walked to the bar to get another. As he tilted the bottle and the amber liquid began to flow, the sound of voices outside the door made him pause to listen. He peered through a small crack in the door at the activity in the entry.

“I’d like to speak with Draco please.” Hermione glanced around the hall nervously. She’d never realized how large Malfoy Manor really was. The only other times she’d been here there’d either been lots of people, or she was being tortured. Neither situation had let her truly appreciate the magnificence of the place.

“Miss is here to see Master Draco?” Millie, one of the youngest and newest house elves, asked warily. Master Draco had left VERY strict orders. He was NOT to be disturbed for anyone but a Miss Hermione Granger. Millie wondered if it would be rude of her to ask this witch if she were the girl Master Draco wanted to see.

Wondering why the little elf wasn’t going anywhere, Hermione looked at her quizzically. “Is Draco at home?”

“My son is upstairs Miss Granger.” said a deep, familiar male voice from the doorway in front of her. “Millie, please go back to your duties. I will bring Miss Granger to Master Draco in a few moments.”

Millie smiled, pleased that she needn’t be the one to risk the young master’s growing wrath. Putting the whole thing from her mind, she returned to the kitchens.

Feeling nailed to the floor, Hermione caught and held the eyes of the man she’d vowed she would avoid. She was only here for one reason! “Mr. Malfoy,” she said softly, her voice barely audible to her ears above the thundering of her heart. “I know we had words the other night, but today I’ve come only for Draco. Will you take me to him,,, please?”

Stabbed with jealousy, Lucius held her eyes, pausing for an indecent length of time to arrange his thoughts. “But, Miss Granger,” He drawled finally, “I was greatly intrigued by our conversation, before we were interrupted that is.” He paused again, his unseen fingers clenching nervously on the doorframe. “I would like to continue it if you don’t mind.”

But I do mind! Hermione thought, torn between wanting to fulfill her mission and beg Draco’s forgiveness and wanting to know what had happened between herself and the man before her. It was a sad little battle, as the second voice won much too easily. Frowning with irritation at herself, Hermione stalked into the study and jumped as he closed the door behind her. She felt naked and incredibly vulnerable as she stood in the smoke-fused, elegantly masculine room.

“Would you like a drink?” Lucius asked, losing a bit of bravado as he stared at her back. He could see her hands trembling violently at her sides. Was she afraid of him?

Hermione nearly grinned. “Would I like a drink?” She thought. “How about a bottle?” “Yes please Mr. Malfoy.” She said, turning back to face him.

“Lucius.” He demanded. “Call me Lucius, Hermione.” His commanding eyes were inscrutable. He poured her a glass of the scotch he’d been drinking and smiled as she sputtered at the taste before draining it. He hesitated, allowing her to catch her breath. “Now, where were we?”

“Another one please ,,, Lucius” She said, handing the glass back.

“Sit, please.” Lucius said, gesturing towards a short, burgundy leather couch. Hermione sat and primly tucked the knee-length skirt she was wearing around her legs. Lucius poured another shot into the glass. His eyebrows rose comically as she drained the second glass with barely a grimace.

“I believe you were telling me about a fascinating place in Bath?” He asked, sitting a far from her as he could get on the couch, fearing if he got too close she would bolt. As he watched her try and form words, a reflection from the fire flashed in her hair. He fought and won the battle with his hands, which had wanted beyond all sanity to reach out and touch the fiery sparkle.

Desperately excited that he seemed willing to give her answers, Hermione stared determinedly into the fire and searched for the questions. “We both know you were in Bath three years ago. We both know that you know all about the Spring. Now it’s the rest of it I don’t understand.”

Settling back on the couch, Lucius crossed his long legs and felt his heart pounding. “The rest of it?”

Meeting his eyes, Hermione tried and failed to keep her voice level. To hell with phrasing her queries delicately! “Why did you take away my memories?” She leaned closer to him, the need to know far outweighing her caution. “Were you afraid I would tell someone? Were our times together very terrible?” She swallowed the lump that was growing in her throat. “They didn’t seem so in my dreams!” Hermione thought she would burst if she weren’t given the answers she sought.

Lucius turned his head from the accusation in her tone, unwilling to answer.

Hermione let out a frustrated sob. She wanted to shake him, force the truth from his arrogant and tightly pursed lips. “Please! Answer my questions! That’s why you brought me in here isn’t it?” She lay her shaking hand on top of his. “You wanted me to know! You MUST have or you would have allowed that elf to take me to your son! You would have allowed me to go and apologize and be happy with Draco!” Unconsciously, her fingers caressed the skin on the top of his hand, feather-light. “You know, in my dreams I’ve heard you, night after night. I’ve heard you promising me you wouldn’t hurt me. This is hurting me, this knowing but not knowing.”

Eyes wide and face set in stone; Lucius listened to her words in astonishment. The trembling hand over his grasped his fingers and squeezed painfully. He decided. Alright, if that’s really what she wants. “I told you in the garden that you had no idea what you were asking me.” He picked up his wand from the side table and held it in front of her pleading face. “Perhaps I was wrong.” He began to speak the words, removing the charm, and then halted, pain and fear clearly written on his face. He moved closer to her, close enough to see himself perfectly reflected in her impenetrable chocolate eyes. “Are you sure?”

Valiantly, Hermione scooted closer to him until their thighs were touching. Tentatively she reached out a hand to stroke the long platinum hair that hung loose around his face. “Yes, I’m sure.”

As his wand and words untied the complicated knots in her mind, all of the visions from the dreams poured into her waking conscience. In the course of only a few moments she relived it all: Bath, Paris, Prague, Florida, Tokyo, Bath again; passion, desire, love, happiness, anguish, agony, emptiness. Hermione lay flat on her back on the couch, gasping and weeping as every memory, every emotion solidified and became real. As if it all happened only yesterday.

Lucius watched worriedly as the memories which had tortured him alone became shared once more. Fear replaced the concern and filled his racing heart as he saw her bright, tear-filled eyes looking at him with a new, impenetrable expression. He held his breath. In his every fantasy of this moment, she always became the soft and innocent witch he’d fallen in love with. She always forgave him instantly, no explanation required. He wasn’t sure that reality, now that it was truly here, would be as pleasant.

“Lucius!” Hermione exclaimed, staring at him in something like awe. A completely unexpected wave of the deepest delight filled her heart and body. She understood everything and it was so much better than she had expected! He had loved her! He hadn’t obliviated her to cover up a rape or to keep her quiet or anything resembling the foul things she’d half-suspected. He’d actually loved her and wanted to protect her!” She moved a quivering hand to wipe the tears from her face. “And I loved him!” She thought, nearly giddy with an excess of emotion. She laughed and met his moist, caution-filled eyes, smiling happily. She stared into the cautious eyes of the man at her side. “He is mine!”

Without further word, she grasped the back of his head and drew his body down on top of her. She found his mouth with hers and Lucius felt as if he would die from the simple pleasure of this kiss. “Oh!” He gasped and felt himself grow painfully hard the moment her tongue slid tantalizingly between his lips. “I suppose I’m forgiven.” He thought deliriously, returning the kiss with a fervor that equaled hers.

Ravenous for the feel of him, Hermione ripped at the starched white shirt that covered the flesh she so needed to feel against hers. Tearing, rending at the delicate fabric she pulled it from him, pushing his hands away when he tried to help her. Running her palms over his gloriously warm, smooth skin felt to Hermione like coming home. Impatiently, she pulled his hands to the waist of her own shirt, begging with urgent little whimpers for him to remove it. Her hips bucked against his wildly, needing him with a hunger she’d not known for two years -- since their first session in the magical spring.

Lucius sat up, straddled the wildly gyrating witch and stared down at her face. His breathing was harsh, rasping, ragged, uncontrolled. It felt like a wonderful dream. “I’ve waited for this for too long to rush my darling.” He whispered. Forcing her hands down to her sides and pinning them beneath his knees, he kept her eyes locked on his as he slowly unfastened the buttons on her blouse. “Oh Hermione my love, you’ve grown into such a beautiful woman.” He said, awestruck, as he pulled her bra off, leaving her heaving breasts bare to his scrutiny. Gently, he pulled them together and sucked both stiffened peaks into his mouth, tantalizing tongue teasing both nipples simultaneously.

Moaning incoherently, Hermione tried to be patient as the hot mouth feasting on her breasts drove her to increasing madness. It was physically impossible. A live, shocking jolt of electricity connected the tissues he was teasing directly to the fire between her legs. There would be time for this later. “I need you inside me Lucius!” She begged pathetically, wiggling her hand down to unfasten the zipper of her skirt. “Please!”
He grabbed her hand, fiery iron eyes challenging her control. Leisurely, infuriatingly, he bent and let his tongue travel down the skin of her stomach. He undressed her slowly, lips and tongue grazing every newly exposed bit of skin, until she lay naked on the couch before him. He marveled at how much her body had changed, yet had remained absolutely, achingly familiar.

“Undress for me!” She implored, voice deep, husky and nearly unrecognizable.

Unwilling to take his eyes from her, Lucius stood and removed the rest of his clothing until he stood naked before her hungry gaze. His prick was leaking copiously, imploring him with bounding, painful jerks to heed the little witch’s wishes and bury it as deeply inside her as he could. Now! He bent and picked her up off the couch and carried her to the mammoth desk. Sliding everything it held onto the floor, he placed her bottom on the edge, facing him.

Leaning back on her elbows, Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing his hips close and positioning his thickness at her entrance. Her gaze warred between the sight of the raw, feral lust filling his beloved, beautiful face and that of his large, rock-hard cock slowly pressing into her. Both were equally delicious, and both were driving her to lunacy.

As his molten length invaded her writhing body, Lucius tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He thought he had never before felt anything so completely fucking perfect. He grabbed her thighs and placed her knees over his shoulders, raising her bottom off the desk. Sinuously, he thrust into her, leaning forward so that with each stroke the top of his dick and pubic bone ground against her swollen clitoris.

Hermione howled in ecstasy as he methodically increased the tempo. She reached to grab his ass, pulling him even deeper, shoving him inside with as much force as her strength and position would allow. “Yes!” She whispered. “Oh yes, yes, yessssssssss!” Her inner muscles clenched devastatingly around his driving shaft as the release exploded through her body.

Lust addled, Lucius grabbed her thighs tighter and pounded. Sweat poured from him, plastering his long hair to the clenched muscles of his face. Aching, tormented with need, he plunged harder and harder, faster and faster. He felt Hermione’s fingernails rake his back as she tumbled over the edge again and he snarled in rapture as the spasms filled his body. Over and over , his seed poured into her womb, filling her full.

Afterwards, they lay together, curled in a soft, woolen blanket on the floor in front of the fire. Lucius lay behind her, the curvature of her spine lying deliciously against his chest, fitting perfectly. He’d never been so content or felt so complete in his life. He traced the curve of her shoulder and collarbone with delicate fingers. “I love you.” He whispered softly. “From that first day at the Spring and every day since.”
“How did you do it?” Hermione asked, tears welling in her eyes. “How did you go on every day feeling like this and not go mad?. She turned in his arms, facing him. “If I have to live my life without you now,, needing you like this, loving you like this,,,, I don’t know if I can!”

She told him what Professor Slughorn had said about the Spring. “He told me that this crazy lust we have every time we make love won’t ever go away. Ever. It’s the reason we feel this way for each other, maybe the only reason.” She ached to deny the words—her feeling for him too deep, too real to just be a spell. “Aren’t you the least bit scared to know that we’ll feel like this for the rest of our lives?” She buried her face in his chest, overwhelmed.

When he didn’t answer right away, Hermione spoke again. “Did you know what would happen,, before?”
Lucius shook his head. “I had no idea.” Of course he hadn’t known. He’d never intended to use the waters with another person, so he hadn’t bothered to ask what the effect would be– it had just “happened”. “And you said Slughorn told you that the waters of the Spring don’t induce love, only lust.” Lucius smiled. “I know lust, and I promise you, my feelings are much more.” He kissed the top of her head and stroked her back. “And you won’t ever have to know what these past three years have been like for me Hermione. I’ll always be here.”
***