This is pure fantasy. A light-hearted, romantic little romp to celebrate the beginning of the summer holidays here in the States. Hope you enjoy.

Draco determinedly pushed through the heavy growth of underbrush. Even though he'd been searching for hours, he trusted his sources, and they'd assured him he should find what he was looking for in this area.

Should….not would, he reminded himself.

He didn't want to get his hopes up. Still, it was worth the effort to try. He wiped his forehead of the moisture that had accumulated there. Although he was in Scotland near Loch Lomond, the late spring night felt more in keeping with a Mediterranean summer.

Strange, that.

Up ahead, he finally saw by the water's edge the illusive plant he had taken such pains to find.

The little flower was the most potent within its species. It was also the rarest of that family of night-blooming plants.

Shadowort was highly regarded as the best ingredient in relieving wizards of many ailments, magical melancholy being one of them. In their world, what muggles referred to as depression was gaining ground among those who had fought and suffered during the war. It was like there was a residual blight, an almost spiritual poisoning that had silently spread throughout the U.K. Perhaps it was a sick parting gift from Tom Riddle himself. But no matter the cost or time it would take to gather enough of the flowers to make the brew; it was Draco's way of making amends for what his family had done; for what they'd been. He was determined to produce the highest quality potion for Britain's wizarding world. He had the time; he had the money. He also had the motive for leaving his home to search for it.

The Greengrasses had been persistent in insisting he honor the contract his father had made before the war; namely, that he would enter into marriage with one of their daughters. Draco shuddered. He prayed to all that was holy that he could escape that fate. Not that Astoria or Daphne were terrible choices; in Draco's opinion, the title of most horrible belonged to Pansy. But they weren't what he wanted. They weren't who he wanted. They didn't have dark, curly hair; they didn't have soulful brown eyes or dimpled smiles. They certainly didn't have a mind that would constantly stimulate and excite his or a magical prowess that was one of the most powerful he'd ever seen.

Nor did they have a scarred forearm that was testament to incredible strength of character within.

He sighed. He knew better than to wish for the impossible. The likelihood of him ever being with Hermione Granger was….

Well…..the odds were definitely not in his favor.

Draco knew he had been close to the loch. He'd caught a glimpse of the moon shining on the water. But where was the blasted thing now? It was if the woods had closed in on him. He felt a frisson of fear.

This was not right.

He paused; he'd heard a twig snap. His instincts, honed to a pointed sharpness by the war, told him to beware. Cautiously, he took a few quiet steps, looking around as he did so. He saw no one, but the feeling of being followed was strong. Above him, a partial clearing in the tree cover revealed the night sky, with a shaft of light beaming through the limbs to the ground where he stood. He looked up at the startling brightness that seemed to have caught him in mid step; a full moon, crowning him with its celestial splendor, was shining, appearing larger in size than Draco had ever seen it before.

He momentarily forgot about the sounds that had brought him to the opening in the woods and stared at the orb above. Draco swallowed, uneasy. He felt….strange, somehow. A prickling, tingling feeling of standing too close to unharnessed power began to grow in him; as if a lightning bolt was just about to strike. In spite of being damp with sweat, the hair on his head began to rise with static electricity. His flesh broke out in goosebumps. Another twig snapping had him whirling around in fright. He sighed, relieved. Nothing was there. He turned back around to the clearing and froze.

He had company.

Three comely women stood before him watching his every move with an interest that made him feel he'd been observed for longer than he knew.

"Who are you?" he shouted, taking a defensive stance. He raised his wand. "What do you want?"

They said nothing.

"Speak!"

It was then that the three women smiled at each other.

"Told you he'd be spirited, " said the shortest of the three. Although her face was youthful, her strange aqua eyes bespoke age, even though right then they were twinkling with childlike mischief.

Beside her stood a tall, regal blonde. Her countenance was calm and tranquil; but her eyes reminded Draco of deep scrying pools. Pools that could reflect a man's future, for good or for doom. They were eyes that held the wisdom of the ages; eyes that saw through lies. He suddenly felt horribly exposed.

"His spirit is what brought him through. But all is about to change."

The third woman tilted her head, assessing the wizard before her. An exotic beauty, her soft mocha skin sparkled like diamonds in the dim evening light. She finally nodded, pleased at something. "We did good work, Sisters. He is beautiful."

"Of course he is," agreed the short one. "We made sure of that."

Acting as one, the three ladies drew closer to where Draco stood.

"Not another step," he warned. "You don't know what I'm capable of." He somehow was able to keep his wand steady, even though his heart was beating out of his chest. Although the women had done nothing threatening, he sensed their power was infinitely greater than his. He hoped they wouldn't call his bluff.

The short one chuckled. "Bless him, he thinks we mean to do him harm."

"If that had been our intent, he would no longer be standing," said the raven-haired beauty. "Put your stick away, little wizard. It is unseemly for this occasion."

The wise one spoke. "Do not be alarmed. We come to bless, not destroy."

"Just as we did on the day of your birth," added the dark-skinned enchantress. "Go ahead. Show him Sister," she said to the blonde.

Nodding, she turned and stared into Draco's eyes, her large ones relaying a memory. The scene of the woods left Draco's vision; suddenly, he saw his parents in their bedroom. He could tell it was twilight; the candles had already been lit. His father stood hovering by the door, his face softened by a rare, genuine smile, his eyes displaying a profound relief. In the middle of the room, Draco saw his mother looking much younger but exhausted, lying on the bed, her hair hanging long and tangled. A tiny baby boy, blood and vernix still coating his skin, was squalling at the ministrations of the healer who stood by the foot of the bed.

This is me. I must have just been delivered. No wonder his mother was in that state.

Next, the scene before him gave way to a new one. It was later now. The moon, which had just been appearing on the horizon when he'd been born, was now at its zenith, its light shining through the window pane to peek at the baby wizard. Draco watched, astounded, as pure, sparkling particles of light traveled down the beam to dissolve into his tiny sleeping body. As they did, he heard the soft chant of each sister as his body absorbed their light.

Today this babe is claimed by Night

And gifts of night we bring

His hair, moonglow; his skin, starlight

These are our offerings.

These gifts shall draw the one to him

The one who'll one day be

An ally to the moon and she

Shall be his destiny.

Draco was suddenly pulled out of the vision. He stared at the expectant looks on the sister's faces.

"Who are you?" he asked again, but this time in a voice of wonder.

"We are of the family of Selene," said the blonde. "Some of the lesser. Humans at one time referred to us as the Moon Maidens. I am Ayla."

The beautiful one spoke next. "I am Mahina."

"And I am Meri," finished the short one.

Draco blinked. "The…..family of Selene? You mean…..the Titan? The goddess of the moon?" Surely not.

"Oh, but we are," chuckled the short one.

"You can hear my thoughts?"

Ayla nodded. "Your thoughts, your dreams…...your deepest desires….."

The short one laughed out loud. "Ahem….speaking of those desires, Young One…." she winked at her sisters, "Can I tell him?"

"Peace, Meri," said Ayla as she gently laid her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Do not tease. No need to overwhelm the dear boy."

Meri made a soft hmph sound. "He's about to be undone anyway, so why should it matter?"

The two other sisters looked at each other, identical smirks on both their faces. "She is right, you know," said Mahina.

The wise sister suddenly giggled. She put her hand across her lips to stop it, but it was too late. Now all the women were laughing.

Draco was baffled. What had them so amused?

"It is the time for all things to be fulfilled," explained Ayla after she'd gotten her mirth under control. "Our Great Sister is in her full radiance. She motioned to the moon overhead. "She who is queen is on her throne." She gave him a pointed look. "A perfect time when one may ask favors."

Meri nodded. "True. She is always more agreeable when she's in complete manifestation."

Draco was at a loss. "But what should I ask?"

Mahina spoke up. "What do you most want?"

He thought back to what he'd been thinking of earlier. What he thought he'd never have on his own.

Granger.

No, his mind corrected. Hermione. Granger had been the name of his enemy. Hermione would be his beloved.

That is, if he could ever convince her to give him a chance.

Ayla walked up to him. "Hold out your hand," she instructed.

Draco did as she asked and saw when she placed three stones in his hand.

"Moonstone, selenite, and quartz. Before you harvest what you need, ask for what you want. The stones will aid you in that."

Draco looked down at the gems she placed in his hand. "They're beautiful," he whispered.

"Our sister will recognize our tokens. She will listen. Now go, Bright Star. Your future has just completed her ritual. She has cast her incantations. All that remains is for her to be bathed in the waters."

She moved back to stand by her sisters. Holding out her hands, she said, " Come dear ones. We have completed our mission. It is time for us to leave."

Meri pouted. "Pooh. Why can't we stay and watch?"

As soon as the sisters left, Draco once again saw the loch just ahead of him and growing next to it the Shadowort he'd wanted. But now, his mind was no longer on the plant, but on the promise the women had given him. His heart's desire was just up ahead, waiting for him. He glanced down at the stones in his hand. Raising them to the sky, all he said was, "Please." He knew he had no right to ask for happiness. He had no right to wish for her. But he couldn't help it. The witch who'd always gotten under his skin had somehow burrowed into his heart. He would never be able to love another.

Hermione put out the fire and scattered the ashes. She'd done what she set out to do. Ever since she'd read of it, she'd known that one day she'd be a part of the sect. She'd always felt more drawn to the moon, even though Gryffindors were typically associated with the sun. When the golden trio had been on the run, it was the moon in all its phases that had been Hermione's faithful companion when she'd kept vigil on the cold winter nights. The moon, with all its secrets and powers. She needed one of them now. The moon's greatest influence on the earth was its gravitational pull. Hermione prayed that power would now be shared with her. It's what she had asked for…..hoped for. There would be no other way for her have what she wanted without it. What she'd always wanted from the first time she'd seen him…..

Bright hair….alabaster skin. Perfection in human form. With unfortunately, an atrocious personality to go with it. It was why she'd never attempted an association before, even though Hermione had been drawn to Draco from the start. He'd thought her beneath him. Inferior. A mudblood.

Now, the tables had turned. Blood purists were considered the scum of the earth. Especially those wearing a certain tattoo. Still, she couldn't help but hope. Maybe Draco had changed. She'd heard rumors. She hoped they were true.

It was worth a risk to try.

Unfastening the clasps, she let her robe fall from her shoulders. She'd worn nothing underneath. There could be no incumbrances. Nothing that could bind her as she'd made her vows. Hermione paused to consider the fact that she was totally naked and alone. Oddly enough, she felt no fear or apprehension. Her usual modesty was absent. Shrugging at the enigma, she walked over to the water's edge. The water was as black as coal. She couldn't see its depth; she had no way of knowing what lurked underneath the surface. Yet, once again, she felt no fear. It was a strange sensation; the utter lack of concern. It was a total departure from her personality. But she couldn't find it in herself to care. She moved as if in a trance. Whatever was going to be, would be. Destiny was beckoning. Taking a breath, she dove in. The northern waters should have felt frigid to her at that time of year, but for some reason, its temperature was pleasant. Tropical, even. Rising to the surface, Hermione let out a little murmur of pleasure and began to strike out for deeper water, taking sure, measured strokes. She enjoyed the way the full moon shone upon the loch's surface. Pure and bright. Hermione's heart lifted; she felt a sudden, inexplicable joy.

She began to laugh. She had never felt so free.

Draco heard the sound. It was a female voice, her voice, and she was laughing. It brought a smile to his own face. She sounded happy. It was a sound he'd not heard enough, but he could imagine just how her face would look; her eyes crinkling adorably, her cute button nose scrunching, almost as if she was about to sneeze. And then, two dimples would appear, one below each cheek that would be blushing the loveliest shade of pink. Those dimples. They'd nearly been Draco's undoing at the Yule Ball. Back then, he'd been disgusted with himself for wanting her. But now…..now he would love to kiss every inch of her face. He would love to kiss every inch of her body, too.

He finally made it to the clearing and saw the loch shining in the moonlight. And there in the waters was his heart's desire, swimming and giggling like a little girl. He watched, captivated, as she frolicked about. But when she got close enough to the shore to begin walking out of the water, Draco's jaw dropped. Hermione was naked.

Oh, gods.

It was torture of the most exquisite kind.

He knew he shouldn't be standing there like a peeping Tom, but he couldn't help it.

Hermione was…..she was…..

Oh, Merlin…..

She was perfection.

He watched, spellbound, as she made her way to land, looking for all the world like Venus rising from the sea. She'd obviously gained weight since the last time he'd seen her after the battle of Hogwarts. Back then, she'd been skinny and underfed and waifish. Just a slip of a girl. But now she was a woman; a woman with tantalizing curves to bewitch any wizard lucky enough to see them.

Her breasts were lush and full, in contrast to her waist which was tiny. Her bum was perfectly round with hips that ignited something instinctive in him. Hips that were perfect for childbearing. Draco was astonished with himself; he'd never thought of Hermione that way before, but after seeing her like this, all he could picture was her growing another curve, of being round with his child, of nursing his babe, or rather babies, for he could now imagine the manor noisy with the ringing laughter of children. Of the two of them creating a large, happy family.

Her beautiful curly hair, heavy with water, was longer, weighted down, and dripping water over her body. As his eyes traveled downward with the droplets that fell, Draco felt as if his pants were shrinking. He feared his body was aflame and was in imminent danger of spontaneous combustion. He recalled the sister, the short one, saying he was about to become undone. Well. She'd spoken the truth. He put his fist to his mouth, trying to silence the inarticulate moans he was powerless to stop. Finally, it got to the point where he could no longer stand it.

He moved out into the open.

Hermione startled, seeing a figure coming from the wood. She gasped when the moonlight shone on the distinctive blonde hair that could only belong to….

"Draco?" she breathed. She immediately accio'd her robe, but it was too late. He'd already seen her.

All of her.

She watched as her former enemy began to walk in her direction. Both of them feeling as if they'd been transported into a dream. A dream where secret longings found expression. Where nothing remained hidden.

He stopped at the place where she stood. Then hesitantly, he reached out and cupped her jaw with his hand. Clutching her robe to her chest, tears began to form in Hermione's eyes when Draco leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

Wait. That hadn't been what he'd meant to say. He'd meant to ask for her forgiveness. Nevertheless, what he'd said was the truth.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, tears running down her face. Hermione didn't know what had possessed her to confess that, but since she'd already bared everything else to him, she might as well bare her heart as well.

"I'm so sorry. For everything. Please say you forgive me. Please say you'll give me a chance to make you mine."

"I'm already yours." Hermione wondered who was controlling her mouth, because that was definitely not what she had intended to say…..but it wasn't a lie. She knew she had always been meant for Draco. Just as he had been meant for her.

He slowly lowered his head and captured her lips with his. Hermione swayed into the kiss, savoring the feel and the taste of him. He tasted like mint and smelled like lemons and her senses couldn't get enough of either.

Draco couldn't believe his good fortune when he felt her returning his ardor. He quickly deepened the kiss and soon both of them were lost to the sensation of finally being free to express their deepest feelings. Hermione forgot about clutching her robe and instead wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, her fingers making a mess of his hair. Draco gathered her delectable body close and moaned when he felt her curves pressed tightly against him. The feeling was indescribable; they were a perfect fit.

It didn't take much time for the robe to find a new function as a transfigured mattress. Soon, Hermione wasn't the only one bare, and before too long, the two moonstruck lovers thought they'd died and gone to heaven, so intense was the pleasure of their coupling.

Neither noticed the particles of light streaming down, making a nebulous cloud around them as they mated. Neither felt the shaft of moonlight heating up around their wrists. Neither heard the feminine chuckle of the one who had granted Draco's plea. Selene stayed in non-corporeal form as she watched the human couple in their first flush of eternal love. She smirked. She really shouldn't have interfered, but she was not as patient as she used to be. And these two would have taken forever to get to this point. She thought a little help was in order. Besides, they were so delicious. So divine. Such a perfect diversion.

Draco and Hermione stayed entwined for the rest of the night, alternating between bouts of lovemaking, quiet confessions of remorse and love, and snuggled slumber.

When they awoke together the next morning, they both stared at the other. A new day had begun. The night before had been so dreamlike, so surreal. Would the light of day shatter the illusion?

They need not have worried. It was Hermione who first saw the strange runic symbols etched around Draco's wrist. She looked down and saw a similar pattern on hers.

"Hermione," Draco breathed in awe, "this looks like…"

"A marriage mark," she finished for him.

He looked worried. She recognized the emotion for what it was. He was scared.

It was the truth; Draco feared she would think he'd planned it. That last night had been an elaborate ruse.

What will she say? Will she think I tricked her?

"Hermione…...love," he began, his voice betraying his anxiety, "I ….I swear, I don't know how this happened. I don't recall us saying the oath. Did we?" Right then, Draco didn't feel too sure of anything.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I….I don't think we did."

Then how had it happened? Neither knew.

"I won't hold you to this if you don't want it."

She shushed him with a kiss. "I do want it," she admitted shyly. But she had to know. "Do you?"

Draco squeezed her tightly. "Gods, yes. More than anything," he whispered against her hair.

"Then it's sorted," she sighed with satisfaction.

Draco sighed, too. "Thank Merlin."

He had forgotten thanks was due to another.

It may have been sorted by them, but news of their bonding shocked the rest of the wizarding community. Surprisingly, the ones who took it best were Harry and Ron. Just as Hermione knew her two best friends, they knew her and knew there had always been more cooking between her and Draco than put-downs and face punches. Their passion had been tangible. Neither Harry nor Ron were blind; they'd seen how the two looked at each other when they thought no one was looking. When they'd refused to dance with their dates at the Yule Ball, Harry and Ron had watched Hermione and Viktor instead. Both had noticed Draco's eyes as he too, watched Hermione that evening. Back then, they attributed his frowns to anger, but now, it was easy to see that it had been frustrated longing.

Oddly enough, the ones who ended up giving the couple the most grief were Ginny and Molly. It got so bad that Harry ended his relationship with the redhead and Ron moved into Grimmauld Place to get some peace. Before long, the two wizards ventured into uncharted waters by dating Slytherins. They figured it had worked for 'Mione; it might work for them, too.

They were right.

Ron began dating Daphne Greengrass; Harry followed Ron's lead and asked Astoria out. Both had Draco's approval and profound thanks.

And for a time, peace reigned. Hermione joined Draco in making enough high-quality potion to keep St. Mungo's supplied for months to come. They, with the help of Narcissa, redecorated and refurbished Malfoy Manor. Hermione hired Bill Weasley to come with a team of curse-breakers to rid the manor of all dark magic.

Life was bliss.

But She Who Held the Nightly Lantern was not happy. She'd been overlooked. It was time to teach the two humans a lesson.

It happened the night of Autumn Harvest. A full moon reigned that evening. Hermione looked out the window, smiling at the sight. She felt a shiver of a thrill at the news she would share with Draco that evening. Placing her hand on her stomach, she felt the tiny bump. She knew Draco would be over the moon with joy.

Over the moon. She chuckled at the phrase, thinking of all the joy that had come to her since she'd dedicated herself to the Order of Night. Perhaps an offering would be appropriate, she mused. Maybe if their child was a girl, they could call her Luna.

Selene might like that.

"Think again," said a voice behind her.

Hermione turned around to find three women staring at her. She felt the power emanating from them; she took in their otherworldly appearance. Unlike Draco when he'd been visited by the three, Hermione had a good idea who these women were, and it terrified her. For she knew who'd sent them.

Her knees began to shake, a wave of dizziness overcoming her. The room began to spin; then, with a loud thud, she hit the floor in a dead faint.

Draco, two rooms down, heard the noise and rushed into the room. He saw his wife crumbled on the ground and the three familiar women looking at him with closed expressions upon their faces.

"We bring a message, Bright Star, from She Who Remembers. To him who was given much, but thanked another, a lesson shall be taught. Just as her beloved Endymion slept, so shall your love. But all is not lost. When you awaken, so shall she."

Draco rushed over to take Hermione in his arms. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

His answer was silence.

When he looked up, he saw they were already gone.

The next two months were the hardest in Draco's life. Healers assured him Hermione's vitals were good, but that she'd fallen into a magical coma for some reason. None of them could explain why. Still, they assured him she was in no danger; neither was their unborn child, who continued to progress in the usual way.

That was what hurt Draco most. To find out Hermione was pregnant and not be able to share it with her. Harry and Ron became his comfort in the weeks that dragged out, one after another. They took turns in helping Draco keep vigil, sitting beside her while she slept, learning how to change the IVs so that she stay nourished.

During the week before Christmas, Draco finally reached his limit of endurance. While his mother took her turn by Hermione's bed, he went outside to get a breath of fresh air. It was mid evening, a cold, frigid night. The trees were bare, their naked branches looking much like dark lace against the bright night sky. A full moon shone, it's size reminding Draco of the night when it had all started; the visit of the three women, his encounter with Hermione, their lovemaking, their mystery bonding…

Only now, he realized it hadn't really been a mystery. It had been Fate. A Titan of old had heard his plea and granted his request.

And what had he done?

He'd flippantly thanked a long dead wizard.

Raising his face to the sky, he whispered, "If you're listening…...I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect. Truly, the words meant nothing."

He scratched the back of his neck, frustrated. Somehow, he knew he was going to have to do better than that to appease a pissed-off immortal. As he thought of what to say, he shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to keep them warm.

Blast, it's cold out here.

But when he felt something sharp against his hand and heard jingling from his pocket, he remembered those were the trousers he'd worn that fateful night. Draco pulled out the stones that had been a token from the three sisters.

Will they still work?

Placing them on the frozen ground, Draco promised, "I pledge my devotion if you will spare the love of my life. Just please…..please wake Hermione."

Then he stood. Looking up at the moon, he added, "You were in love once. Don't forget what it felt like."

He stood silently, looking at the moon. High and bright. Yet distant and aloof.

Would she bother to listen? Would she even care?

The answer was yes.

In the blink of an eye, the three sisters were once again in front of him. Looking very pleased about something.

Meri was the first to speak. "Well! That got her attention."

Ayla nodded. "Your pleas have been heard."

Mahina gave him a warm smile. "Go. Your wife is waking as we speak."

Draco's heart squeezed almost painfully with joy. But right before he apparated away, Meri came forward to touch his arm. She whispered contritely, " Our Sister does have a bit of a temper, I admit it. But can you really blame her? Immortality can be so deadly dull. I mean, one can take only so many eons of Hermes plucking that lyre of his before one just...explodes. Because believe me, Orpheus, he's not. So sometimes you just want to smash something, you know?"

No, Draco really didn't know. And didn't care. He just wanted to get back to Hermione. But Meri was still talking.

"So she had a bit of fun with you two. You were too tempting a couple for her to resist. But then your off-handed comment about Merlin put her in a mood. Do you know how tiring it is to always hear men getting the credit when it's the women who do the work? But Ayla and Mahina talked to her and convinced her you didn't mean it that way, and then after what you said tonight, everything's all set to rights again."

Okay, fine, Draco thought. But can I go now?

He'd forgotten the Maidens of the Moon could hear his thoughts. Shaking their heads in indulgent amusement, they said they each had a parting blessing to give him first.

"May all your days abound with joy," said Mahina.

"May your children be many and blessed," said Ayla.

Draco looked at Meri.

"What?" she asked. "Aren't two blessings enough?"

Ayla cleared her throat.

Meri said, "Oh, alright. May the love you share never dim." Then with a flick of a finger, she said, "Now off you go."

The next thing Draco knew, he was in his and Hermione's bedroom. She was yawning, stretching out her body as she did so, as his mother stood beside her, her tired face wreathed with smiles. Rushing over, he carefully took his wife in his arms.

"Hey," she said, her voice gravelly, still heavy with slumber. "Did I sleep through the bonfire?"

Draco frowned, confused. "Bonfire?"

"The one we'd planned for tonight." Seeing his puzzled look, she added, "For the Autumn Harvest. "

Draco looked at his mother. She shrugged her shoulders. Obviously, she was going to let him do all the heavy lifting in explaining the last two months to Hermione.

"Love," he began, "I think there are a few things you should know….."

Many, many, many moons later…..

Draco looked out at the lawn and grinned. His children, all seven of them, were arguing as to whom would be the seeker. Everyone of them loved Quidditch, and in spite of their mother's aversion to flying, they were all good at the sport. He scratched his scruffy beard and smiled. Hermione might not care for the game, but she loved it when he didn't shave. Loved it when she felt his scruff on her lips. And thighs. Hence the seven children. Three of them daughters.

Three sisters.

It seemed to be a pattern in his life.

The three sisters of the moon never visited Draco and Hermione again. Nor did Selene interfere anymore in their life. But sometimes, when the full moon shone over their lands in Wiltshire, Draco and Hermione could swear they felt the warm breeze of a Grecian night and smell the heady aroma of jasmine wafting on its wings. Every once in a while, their children would come to them saying they heard the laughter of a woman, and once Draco could have sworn he heard a lyre being played.

And often, when Draco would take his wife to bed, the moon would shine through the window as it did on the night of his birth and once again crown him with celestial splendor.

Draco, or Bright Star as he was known among the Immortals, was truly a blessed wizard, and his constellation, the one he was named after, shone above him, affirming that truth and the fact that happy endings were indeed possible.

A/N: What would I do without my Ayla and Mahina? To annamonk and daswhoiam, you are truly sisters of my heart and I love you to pieces. Love, your Merryweather (Meri for short) LOL

Ayla is Turkish for "halo of light around the moon".

Mahina is a Hawaiian lunar deity and means "moon".