The Spring of the Satyr

Hermione shut the book in her hands with a victorious slam and placed in on the top of the stack. She’d done it! She clapped her hands in glee, causing Madame Pince to look at her in disapproval. Hermione didn’t care. Finally, after four straight weeks she had found the correct spell of revelation! With it, she would be able to see the aura of any spell or enchantment, see the invisible strings that bound it to it’s victim and hopefully be able to untie them. She would be able to cure Lucius of the spell that plagued him, that had left him so apprehensive he’d barely been able to touch her! Grabbing her notes, she headed to the girls bathroom, locking the door behind her.


Removing all of her clothing, Hermione stood in front of the tall, chipped mirror and chanted the words of the spell. Suddenly, her entire body was covered in golden, swirling light. White, blinding radiance emanated from her forehead and from the V between her legs. “The sexual centers.” She said in wonder. So this was the enchantment of the Spring! It was beautiful! She could see the surging mosaic of light as if it were a living thing feeding off of her body; see where it began, how it connected to her, how it lead off through the wall, connecting her to him. She could even see how she could remove it if she wished. She stared at the spot where the knots could be untangled and contemplated a life without the all-consuming passion she felt for Lucius. Her hand reached tentatively up to grasp the tactile stream of illumination, fingers gently tugging, testing its strength. It felt strong, resilient – oh good!

With a shudder, she waved her wand and spoke the words to end the spell of revelation. Her hands shook as she pulled her jeans back over her hips and picked up her shirt and bra off the bathroom floor. She knew she’d rather die than to ever break any of the bonds that held them together.

When she’d finished dressing, she stepped out into the now crowded corridor. Not even hearing the greetings of the students she passed, Hermione made her way down the corridor to her last class of the week – Advanced Charms 2.

Draco watched her enter the classroom from his seat in the last row. Utterly attuned to every subtle nuance that was Hermione Granger, he sensed her distraction and frowned. She seemed completely preoccupied, not paying the least attention to Professor Flitwick, who was demonstrating a very difficult spell they would need to master for the N.E.W.T.S.. Normally, Hermione would have been raptly scribbling notes, trying to memorize every word from the diminutive teacher’s mouth. Now she sat there, staring at the sky through the window, lost in her thoughts. He studied her profile, love and hate so tightly intermingled they seemed to create a whole new emotion. His heart thumped painfully in his chest as he contemplated her fate. Mother had said everything was ready. She’d done her part. The rest was up to him.

As the lesson neared an end, Hermione sat on the edge of her seat with impatience. Would this class never end? Finally, Professor Flitwick told them all to have a nice weekend and Hermione had to force herself to walk normally from the room. She only had to grab a few things from Gryffindor Tower before she could leave!

Draco gave a start as he realized that she was gone and he hadn’t even seen it. Damn! He grabbed at his books and parchments and fled after her. His heart raced as he pushed through the milling students, using his height to see over most of their heads, looking for the familiar curly hair. Where in the hell did she go? Shit! Seeing a small, second year Slytherin, Draco shoved his belongings into the startled boy’s arms. “Take them to my room!” He ordered and then ran out of the castle. He couldn’t miss her!

He raced half-way down the familiar path to Hogsmeade, knowing he was three times faster than she could ever be, yet he still couldn’t see her. He stopped to catch his breath. She must not have left the castle yet. He ducked down behind a large, bare-limbed tree and waited.

Hermione could barely contain her urge to run down the path. Her mind flew over the possibilities of what she would find when she used the spell on him. Suppose she couldn’t remove the frustrating spell at all? The shield charm worked to block it, but with it in place she couldn’t get close enough to touch him. She imagined a life together of unfulfilled, unsatisfied longings. No! She WOULD get it off of him! Her brain sent her a new thought, nearly freezing her in her tracks. Suppose she couldn’t remove it without breaking the strings that bound them? Would she do it? Could she? Would he want her to? What if he did? Hermione thought she would lose her mind before she even got there.

So deeply ensconced in her thoughts, Hermione did not see the tall, blonde boy who stepped out from the tree behind her. Without making a sound, Draco crept close and raised his wand in a shaking hand, pointing it at her back. She never knew he was there. “Stupefy!”