The Pond, A Magical Fable

Thank you to my wonderful beta, DHLane – you made this so much better. It is a fable so I edited the title, accordingly. I wrote this fic ages ago and never finished it, until now.

I'm still working on Scars, as well as a few other stories that I'll post at the end of the month. Thanks for reading.

******************************************

The bastard! How. Could. He?

No. How. Dare. He?

Hermione ran, not once looking back to heed the male voice calling her name. The man clearly had forgotten who she was if he thought she would, for a moment, entertain a single word he had to say. She cherished her pride and self-respect more than a disgusting, lying, sneaky, dirty, rotten prat!

The Annual Remembrance Charity Ball, held at Malfoy Manor, had been in full swing when she had returned from the loo to seek out for her escort for the evening, Anthony Goldstein. To say she was surprised when he’d asked her to accompany him was an understatement. Tall and handsome with dirty blond hair, the former Ravenclaw was quite the charmer.

So charming, in fact, that she’d found him in a secluded, dark corner of the balcony grinding up against some other moaning witch. Thinking quickly, she sent a Jelly-Legs Hex their way and turned to flee the scene.

She was embarrassed.

Expecting a magical evening, she had purposefully dressed carefully in an exquisite, dove-grey, Muggle designer ball gown. Truthfully . . . she felt beautiful. Upon entering Malfoy Manor, a small collective gasp was followed by brief silence as all eyes trailed her entrance. Smiling slightly, she was pleased at making an impact.

Now, she was wandering aimlessly through this endless maze in the Malfoy Gardens. She was angry, humiliated and nearly in tears. At some point, after making countless right then left turns, she rounded a corner and noticed a clearing up ahead. Perhaps, it was an ending to this maze. She thanked her lucky stars because she just about to send out red sparks, hoping someone would see them and rescue her.

Having slipped off her shoes long ago, she silently padded her way across the grass.

The sight greeting her was spectacular. An idyllic and placid pond lay in splendid stillness surrounded by lush greenery. Like small splotches on a water canvas, the occasional splash of color emanated from delicate wildflowers dotting the edges.

With a heaving sigh of relief, Hermione plopped down on the bank, the voluminous yards of delicate silk and tulle spreading out around her like the open petals of a blossoming peony. Delicate fingers combed out the curls of her elaborate hair style until her mane framed her face in a mass of unruly curls. She shivered slightly as the cool air caressed her skin. Plucking the little tiara, on loan from a prominent magical jeweler in Diagon Alley, from her head, she toyed with it in her lap, contemplating whether to toss it into the lake.

“It would be such a shame to see such a lovely piece of jewelry flung into the water, don’t you think, Granger?” A deep, masculine voice cut through the night.

Hermione started and turned to see a tall figure outlined in the dim moonlight. As he approached, she could make out the muscular, lean frame of Draco Malfoy. ‘Wonderful,’ she thought. Now her evening would be perfect. No doubt he had witnessed her embarrassing little display and was here to humiliate her further.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Her voice was tinged with a layer of annoyance. She had no intention of moving, she was here first, after all.

Moonlight fell across his handsome features, his platinum blond hair falling into his eyes and that trademark smirk gracing his lips. “Actually, I was here first, Granger. You’re the one intruding on my personal sanctuary. How did you find it? No one has ever found this place or even knows of it, except for me.”

Blushing at the thought of having encroached on someone else’s privacy, Hermione began gathering up the material of her skirt and made to stand. Suddenly, Draco kneeled down next to her, stilling her movements with a touch on her shoulder. Warm brown met cool grey, in an instant.

“You don’t need to leave, Granger. I was merely curious as to how you got here.” His eyes bore into hers.

Looking away, she cleared her throat, delicately. “I became lost in the maze. I couldn’t find my way out and kept walking until I saw a clearing. It led me here.” Her voice dropped to a gentle whisper.

He said nothing as he stared at her, seeming to mull over her words. She saw his brows furrow slightly before he grinned, a sparkle gleaming in his eyes.

“I see.” He looked at her in amusement. “Well, I think I’ll join you. It’s nice to have company, don’t you think?”

Hermione was caught off-guard. Why was he being so . . . nice? “Why are you being so nice?” she blurted out.

Draco burst out laughing. “Always to the point, Granger. That’s what I like about you.”

“Pardon?” Had she heard correctly? “Did you just say you liked me? You don’t like me, you hate me!”

Silence followed a long heavy sigh from Draco, who shook his head before looking at her again. “For someone so smart, you can truly be stupid, sometimes. Oh, don’t look so affronted. Merlin, woman, I don’t hate you. Everyone’s noticed except you, of course.” Draco leaned in a bit closer.

Hermione felt her heart beat faster and small Goosebumps tingled along her skin. What was that warmth beginning to burn in her lower body? It felt like the beating of tiny butterfly wings fluttering in her belly.

“You . . .” Merlin, he had beautiful lips. “You, don’t hate me?”

Draco inched his body closer, his hand traveling around her waist to pull her into his chest. “Oh, no. Let me show you how much I don’t hate you . . .”

Time seemed to slow down as his lips drew closer to hers and captured them in a gentle kiss. A jolt of desire shot through Hermione’s body as she relaxed in his arms and kissed him back. A warm, wet tongue traced her lips as they parted to allow him entrance.

Lost in his arms, she felt every bit of her body catch on fire while Draco’s kiss became more fervent and demanding. Expertly, he suckled, nipped, licked and swirled his lips and tongue with hers. Her arms, somehow, wrapped themselves around his neck, while her hands lost themselves in the soft threads of his hair.

His hands were gripping her body tightly. One buried itself in her tresses, the other roamed over her back, possessively. She moaned as his hands pressed her soft body into his hard one.

Neither knew how long they kissed by the water’s edge but when they broke apart, they were both panting. She lay on the soft grass staring up at him, his body covering hers. Draco peppered her face with tiny kisses before burying his own in her neck, inhaling her sweet fragrance.

“Granger, what you do to me . . . Merlin . . .”

A nervous laugh escaped from her swollen lips. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t know.”

He head reared up. “And now that you do? Does it make a difference?”

Goodness, he was looking at her with such honest longing it caught her completely unawares. Did it make a difference? “Yes. Yes, it does . . . Draco.” His name came out in a hushed whisper.

Grinning, the man above her continued gazing at her intently. “That’s good to hear . . . Hermione.” He pushed a stray curl from her face. “Have dinner with me tomorrow . . . and the day after that and the day after that and the day after that . . .”

“Draco!” She laughed in genuine delight.

Grabbing her tightly, he rolled them both so she was sprawled on his chest. “Just say yes.”

Giggling in a very un-Hermione-ish way, she threw caution to wind with her breathy reply. “Yes and yes and yes and yes and yes!”

It wasn’t until two years later, while enjoying the third night of their honeymoon, that he made a small confession. Lying under a blanket of glowing stars, with a warm Mediterranean breeze caressing their nude bodies, he whispered his secret into her ear. The pond, hidden so deep on Malfoy grounds, was enchanted, he explained. Its location remained shrouded in secrecy to anyone outside the Malfoy family.

The only time the pond revealed itself to an outsider was when its magic sensed a future Malfoy bride. In the olden days, maidens came far and wide to run through the maze in hopes of being “the one”. As time progressed, this tradition slowly petered out; then the legendary Malfoy Balls were borne. His family would use these events to see who the pond would lead to its quiet waters.

There was always one fete, war or not, or another thrown at Malfoy Manor, the Annual Remembrance Charity Ball was merely one in a long list until the pond showed Draco who was meant for him. He prayed it would lead the lovely Hermione Granger to him, as she was the one who held interest. In truth, he’d been fearful that it would be someone else; for the pond had never unveiled its path to a Muggle-born. Then again, a Muggle-born witch had probably never graced Malfoy lands or entered its magical maze.

But the pond seemed to always know what the Malfoy men wanted and, more importantly, who. Never a match was made with a witch whom a Malfoy heir didn’t want. No, the pond seemed to know. Ancient magic, linked to the very earth, floated through its air, after all. The secret still waters and mossy banks a gentle lure to an unsuspecting feminine heart. Protected from outside influences and negative forces, the pond’s sole purpose was to ensure the Malfoy family’s happiness, generation after generation.

Indeed, as Draco caressed the satiny skin of Hermione Malfoy, nee Granger, he would admit that he was well, and truly, happy.

- fin -