"I love you, you know," Draco's sultry voice broke through the silence.
"I know, I love you, too," Hermione responded, her eyes looking away from her King's silver ones before looking up at the stars, "You know, my love, you still haven't told me that story."
"What story?" Draco studied his Queen, his body growing tired from Hermione's petting and the intense sex they had moments before. He yawned.
"Never mind, you're too tired."
"No, I'm not," he said and crawled up Hermione's body, caging her beneath him again, "What story?"
"The Tales of Beadle and the Bard," Hermione gave in.
"Oh," Draco gave a chuckle as he remembered the book, "Well, I only remember one story from perfection."
"Anything is fine with me," Hermione said and looked up at him, "As long as I get to hear you tell the story."
Draco chuckled and rolled off of Hermione. She pulled herself close to him, throwing one of her legs over his. The weather was warm out now and so the water on their bodies dried very quickly, their bodies barely sticking. She nuzzled herself into Draco's side, his arm coming to wrap around her naked waist. He cleared his throat, "There was once a handsome, rich, and talented young sorcerer, who observed that his friends grew foolish when they fell in love, gamboling and preening, losing their appetites and their dignity," Hermione looked up to the stars, imaging the story play out before her in the sky, "The young sorcerer resolved never to fall prey to such weakness, and employed Dark Magic to ensure his immunity.
"Unaware of his secret, the sorcerer's family laughed to see him so aloof and cold.
"'All will change,' they prophesized, 'when a young slave girl or governor's daughter catches his fancy!'
"But the young sorcerers fancy remained untouched. Though many a maiden was intrigued by his haughty mien, and employed her most subtle arts to please him, none succeeded in touching his heart. The warlock gloried in his indifference, and the sagacity that had produced it.
"The first freshness of youth waned, and the sorcerer's peers began to wed, and then to bring forth children.
"'Their hearts must be husks,' he sneered inwardly as he observed the children of the young parents around him, 'shriveled by the demands of these mewling offspring!'
"And once again he congratulated himself upon the wisdom of his early choice.
"In due course, the sorcerer's aged parents died. Their son did not mourn them; on the country, he considered himself blessed by their demise. Now he reigned alone in their palace. Moving his greatest treasure to the deepest dungeons, he gave himself over to a life of ease and plenty, his comfort the only win of his many servants.
"The sorcerer was sure that he must be an object of immense envy to all who beheld his splendid and untroubled solitude. Fierce were his anger and wrath, therefore, when he over-heard two of his servants discussing their master one day.
"The first servant expressed pity for the sorcerer, who, with all his wealth and power, was yet beloved by nobody.
"But his companion jeered, asking why a man with so much gold and a palace to his name had been unable to attract a wife.
"Their words dealt dreadful blows to the listening sorcerer's pride. He resolved at once to take a wife, and that she would be a wife superior to all others. She would possess astounding beauty, exciting envy and desire in every man who beheld her; so that their offspring would inherit outstanding magical gifts; and she would have wealth at least equal to his own, so that his comfortable existence would be assured in spite of additions to his household.
"It might have taken the sorcerer fifty years to find such a woman, yet it happened that the very day after he decided to seek her, a maiden answering his every wish arrived in the small village to visit her kinfolk.
"She was a governor's daughter of prodigious skill and possessed of much gold. Her beauty was such that it tugged at the heart of every man who set eyes on her; of every man, that is, except one. The sorcerer's heart felt nothing at all. Nevertheless, she was the prize he sought, so he began to pay her court.
"All who noticed the sorcerer's change in manners were amazed, and told the maiden that she had succeeded where a hundred had failed.
"The young woman herself was both fascinated and repelled by the sorcerer's attentions. She sensed the coldness that lay behind the warmth of his flattery, and had never met a man so strange and remote. Her kinfolk, however, deemed theirs a most suitable match, and, eager to promote it, accepted the sorcerer's invitation to a great fest in the maiden's honor.
"The table was laden with silver and gold, bearing the finest wines and most sumptuous foods. Minstrels strummed on silk-stringed lutes and sang a love their master never felt. The governor's daughter sat upon a throne beside the sorcerer, who spoke low, employing words of tenderness he had stolen from the poets, without any idea of their true meaning.
"The maiden listened, puzzled, and finally replied, 'you speak well, Sorcerer, and I would be delighted by your attentions, if only I thought you had a heart!'
"The warlock smiled, and told her that she need not year on that score. Bidding her fellow, he led her from the feast and down to the locked dungeon where he kept his greatest treasure.
"Here, in an enchanted crystal casket, was the sorcerer's beating heart.
"Long since disconnected from eyes, ear, and fingers, it had never fallen prey to beauty, or a musical voice, to feel the silken skin. The maiden was terrified by the sight of it, for the heart was shrunken and covered in long black hair.
"'Oh, what have you done?" she lamented. 'Put it back where it belongs, I beseech you!'
"Seeing that this was necessary to please her, the sorcerer drew his wand, unlocked the crystal casket, sliced open his own breast, and replaced the hairy heart in the empty cavity it had once occupied.
"'Now you are healed and will know true love!' cried the maiden, and she embraced him.
"The touch of her soft white arms, the sound of her breath in his ear, the scent of her heavy golden hair: all pierced the newly awakened heart like spears. But it had grown strange during its long exile, blind and savage in the darkness to which it had been condemned, and its appetites had grown powerful and perverse.
"The guests at the feast had noticed the absence of their host and the maiden. At first untroubled, they grew anxious as the hours passed, and finally began to search the castle.
"They found the dungeon at last, and a most dreadful sigh awaited them there.
"The maiden lay dead upon the floor, her breast cut open, and beside her crouched the mad sorcerer, holding in one bloody hand a great, smooth, shinning scarlet heart, which he licked and stroked, vowing to exchange it for his own.
"In his other hand, he held his wand, trying to coax from his own chest the shriveled, hairy heart. But the hairy heart was stronger than he was, and refused to relinquish its hold upon his senses or to return to the coffin in which it had been locked for so long.
"Before the horror-struck eyes of his guests, the sorcerer cast aside his wand, and seized a silver dagger. Vowing never to be mastered by his own heart, he hacked it from his chest.
"For one moment, the sorcerer knelt triumphant, with a heart clutched in each hand; then he fell across the governor's daughter's body, and died."
Hermione's eyes prickled with tears as Draco concluded the story, "Are all the stories like that?" she asked, glancing up at him.
"Not all," Draco responded, his glazed over.
"Why did you pick that particular story to memorize?" she asked.
"Because I feel like that is what would happen to me if I fell in love," he responded, "This was before I found you."
Hermione shifted her body, her elbow folding up underneath her, holding her head to look down at him, "Why would you think that?"
Draco's silver eyes connected with hers, "Because I thought I would never be able to find love."
STORY CREDIT TO J.K. ROWLING