Harvest Moon

Happy early Ostara everyone. To meankitty69, Heidi191976, bluezazua, Taz, slytheringriffindor21 and Zets; thank you for still reading and reviewing. I’m so glad you’re still enjoying this.



Margaritama: Thanks for pointing out the song being confusing, it wasn’t supposed to be in that particular part of the story. It’s what I get for working on too many pages at once.



Voracious Reader: Yep, own it and just about everything else Jackie Chan has been in. Jackie Chan’s work was partial inspiration for the scene; the other was actor Luke Goss in his role of Prince Nuada in Hellboy 2. It’s rare that I’m impressed by martial arts skills but he’s amazing to watch.

***



One of the house elves led Hermione to the massive library. For a few minutes she sat comfortably on the divan near the fireplace but it wasn’t long until the call of so many books made her squirm and finally get up to explore. The library was enormous and she wondered if Lucius had actually read all of these books. They were all categorized and put into various sections, labeled and in alpha by author. She doubted that any public library was ever so well organized. Everything was obviously well taken care of and to Hermione it felt very much in sacred space. At very least she was in a temple of written word.



She wandered around for a few minutes, looking over multiple divisions of the carefully labeled cases. What caught her attention was the poetry section and she spent a good ten minutes just scanning titles and authors.



She tentatively reached out and touched the spines of several before braving what was sure to be Lucius Malfoy’s wrath and pulling one from its place. The smell of oiled leather and parchment teased her nostrils the moment she opened the book. She was instantly caught up in the imagery the poet presented. She stood reading until Lucius’ voice behind her made her jump as he read aloud over her shoulder.



In the orchard and rose garden

I long to see your face.

In the taste of Sweetness

I long to kiss your lips.

In the shadows of passion

I long for your love.



Oh! Supreme Lover!

Let me leave aside my worries.

The flowers are blooming

with the exultation of your Spirit.



These sad and lonely people tire me.

I long to revel in the drunken frenzy of your love



I’m sick of mortal kings.

I long to see your light.



You are the Essence of the Essence,

The intoxication of Love.

I long to sing your praises

but stand mute

with the agony of wishing in my heart.





She managed to suppress the shiver that threatened to run down her spine. She knew she’d never be able to read that particular poet again without hearing Lucius’ voice in her ear.





“Rumi does some of the most beautiful love poetry ever written,” Lucius said. “Interesting that it was written for another man.”



“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to . . .”



Lucius laughed and waved away her apology. “Of course you meant to. Gods know Draco always said you could never resist a book. We are much alike in that matter. It took me ages to get the library back into some decent semblance of shape after the title passed on to me. I kept getting distracted. Every few books I found something I wanted to read. Now, what did you need to ask me?”



“It’s concerning the Dawn Morris case.”



“I’d presumed as much,” Lucius said, motioning her back to the divan in front of the fireplace. He sat down on one end while she occupied the other but the divan was so small that she couldn’t turn in the seat without touching him. “Now, where shall we begin?”



***



Behind the looking glass is a world of its own

Reflecting a distant past, imagery of the unknown

A vision that chills to the bone



A startled hiss then a low growl as the mirror’s reflection came into sharp focus.



“I see you already have her in your clutches, Lucius. Pity she’ll be taken from them so soon. But first things first. She isn’t my quarry. Yet. Soon enough though.” One hand drifted over the surface of the mirror and the scene changed. For a few moments it showed a woman with long, red hair pacing an ornately done office before moving along the corridors of that particular building to one of the other rooms. And there she was. The next piece of fuel for the fire being built under Lucius’ feet. One more log for the funeral pyre. Couldn’t recall her name just now but it hardly mattered. She didn’t need a name to be made use of.



Have you ever felt like you were facing the end

Never to see the light of day again?

You feel it in your heart, it's tearing you apart

Until an empty soul is all that remains



“Ah, yes, my dear. I have something special in mind for you. A new twist to the tale I’m writing for Lucius. You’ll look lovely dressed in white lace.” With the wave of a hand the mirror faded back to dark. “Magenta! Columbia!”



“Yes, Master?” Magenta said, keeping a firm hand on the shoulder of a shaking Columbia. Neither of them liked being in this room. It terrified both of them and they tried as hard as they could to avoid looking up at the illuminated jars containing pieces of what had once been human beings.



“Go and bring me the box I had you carry up here from storage. I believe I have use for the contents this evening.”



The house elves nodded and scrambled off to do their master’s bidding. One elegant hand traced along the glass jars, while its owner was humming softly and smiling all the while. Catching the reflection in the glass a small smile played over beautiful lips.



“Ah, but we are beautiful are we not, Lucius. How many over the years have sought to bask in the glow of our light? Hundreds? Thousands? Bottom feeders trying to attach themselves to the top rung of the social ladder. But I’ll extinguish your light soon, Lucius. You’ll be cast off into the dark while I take my rightful place again.”





***



The poem used in this chapter is The Agony and Ecstasy of Divine Discontent by the poet Rumi. Nods and thanks to dextrousleftie for pointing out that particular poet to me.



The song is Capture The Magick by Icarus Witch.