AN: 1,086 words QFL, prompt: "quest, a journey undertaken by characters to achieve a goal"
If there was anything that Astoria Malfoy understood, it was the importance of the quest. It was something that had to be done properly. There was a way things had to be done— with honor and respect to the special magic of such things. This was why she had agreed to embark on this one.
It had started with a fairytale. She supposed all good things should. But she was sitting in the library of Malfoy Manor with Draco— that was how, indeed, the newlyweds had spent most of their time after returning from America from their elopement.
Astoria had been nostalgic. She'd reached for a book of fairytales— narrowly avoiding the generally horrid Toadstool's Tales, a book so violently saccharine that it had caused her compulsively vomit whenever she had heard her mother recite it— and reached for an old, ornate book that she had not recognized. It did not look like the sort of book that she would give to a child. It looked delicate, old, and to be honest, quite boring— unless you were into the arcane and the occult of the magical world, like her husband was.
She had asked him, and he told her that it might have been misshelved— after all, one could spot that there was evidence once of Hogwarts' own label on the spine, that had been torn off.
Curious, Astoria had taken to reading it, and discovered an older version of the tales she had read as a child. Muggle-friendly and less violent, they were strange and wondrous to her. These tales of Beedle the Bard had the same magic as her other non-Beedle fairy stories— but there was one story in particular that had appealed to her.
The Fountain of Fair Fortune. How she wished to visit— not to bathe in the pool, but in hopes that she could discover, like Amalthea did, how to cure herself of her illness.
While that pleasant evening had been the start, it wouldn't be until months later that she would act upon it. It was another evening, alone in Malfoy Manor, one that was far less pleasant. She had returned from one of her few sojourns outside of work and the house— to the Healer's. A regular appointment, like clockwork, to see when she would succumb to the mysterious malediction that haunted the Greengrass family.
That's when they had discovered the life inside of Astoria.
She hadn't told Draco yet— didn't plan on it. He never wanted her to get pregnant, because of her malediction. How they had argued— how she had valiantly fought for her previously non-existent child! But now it was real. She could pass it to her baby, she could die giving birth to him or her! Draco would point out all of these things, and yet, she didn't want to fight with him. Not that night.
So it had been a lot of awkward dancing around each other, keeping an uncomfortable distance. Astoria had lied and gone to bed early that night. But she couldn't sleep— and when she did, she vividly dreamed of the fountain.
When she woke at the stroke of the midnight, she decided to do something about it.
After all, Astoria knew a quest when she saw it. And she had to do something about this. Orpheus descended into Hades for his wife, Inanna for her lover. Persephone to greet hers. Astoria would not run from her fate, and would, like those heroes, chase down hers. And would make it bend to her will.
It was an impulsive plan for a Slytherin, one perhaps relying on hopes and dreams more than she would have liked. But she knew to trust in herself and her magic. She was a witch, after all.
With only a vague note that barely explained anything, and her warmest cloak, Astoria took off in the middle of the night with the ancient book, hoping it might reveal some clue about this hidden hill, this garden with the Fountain of Fair Fortune.
It was a long journey, involving a lot more work deciphering the arcane symbols inside of the book than Astoria would have cared for.
But after a few months, she found the hedge she had been looking for. She knew that it had to be the one that she was waiting for. She wouldn't wait, however, for the magical midsummer. Instead, rather, she started climbing up the vines. Thorny, they writhed and they tried to shake her.
Astoria clung to them with the sheer determination of Bonny Janet, for she too was fueled by love for her unborn child and her husband that she had left behind for this quest. She just held on tight, and worked on getting up one vine to another, until she had climbed the hedge and descended into the garden that guarded the Fountain of Fair Fortune.
It was overwhelmingly beautiful. Full of exotic glowing fauna and flora, there were apples of gold and silver, statues of wizards and witches whose names were long lost to time. Upon the bases of all of these statues, she saw the mark of Grindelwald. Somehow, it was connected. . . Perhaps truly Grindewald was connected to one of the most ancient magicks in Britain?
But Astoria had no time for these questions. For she was on a quest and she had to keep going. She had to save everyone. Herself, her lover, and her child.
But before she could ascend the hill, she heard a voice, and smelled the burning of vines. Astoria turned to see a very haggard looking Draco Malfoy.
"What kind of place is this?" He demanded. "You left some vague bloody note, and you go chasing some kind of old magic— this place is bad news, you can just feel it—"
"I had to leave," Astoria declared, trying to summon the courage of every heroine she'd ever read about. She'd fought underage in the Battle of Hogwarts, one of the combatants who had come back with Slughorn. But she'd never done something like this. "I had to find it. A fairytale that could save our child. We have one chance, and it is at the top of that hill."
She pointed at the top, as the hill seemed to stretch infinitely into the colorful sky.
At one time, Draco might have argued with her. But instead, he clutched his wand more tightly.
"We do it together. I won't lose you." He wrapped his hand around hers. "Either of yours."