Luna's Conversations with Eros (among other things) [PG] for elyaeru
Title: Luna's Conversations with Eros (among other things)
Author/Artist: lynnec114
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Oh, god, if they were mine...but they're not. Nor am I being paid. I'm just a lonely, bored college student who looks for any excuse not to write papers.
Warnings: None
Summary: Cupid is given a mission for New Year's Eve.
Notes: elyaeru, I really hope you like this. I enlisted lots of help because sometimes I'm really slow. XD Also, I happened to fit in the ENTIRE quote... I hope you're okay with that!
Thanks to my beta, rivertempest for, as usual, preventing me from sounding like a ten year old on crack and also helping me sound funny. I promise, anything remotely giggleable in this piece was her idea. THANK YOU FOR THAT.
-
New Year's Eve is a special night in the world of magic. Witches, wizards, magical creatures, faeries, and pixies -- they’re all affected by this event. It’s not as magical as the Winter Solstice perhaps, but there is a certain tension-- an aura of excitement -- as we all turn another year older. And because it was a special night, Zeus - that unpredictable despot imitating Laurence Olivier - decided to set about seeing what mischief he could embroil his minions in.
This brings us to the Greek gods, specifically the one named Eros, or as the insipid Romans like to call him, Cupid.. Although there are no longer believers-- monotheism nipped that in the bud -- they still reside on Mount Olympus, laughing and singing the eons away. Tonight, however, is where things start anew.
Eros, of course, will be our guide tonight per Zeus’ orders. Though he’s gone by many a moniker, Eros’ game has largely remained unaffected. There was that Helen of Troy debacle that Zeus never let him live down - he steadfastly maintained there were just too many suitors milling about to get a clear shot with his arrows - but for the most part he enjoyed immense success. It’s true that love is blind, and therefore, so is Eros. Tonight though, he chose to see by taking the form of a guest at a particular party, because this assignment was too important to allow a mere misguided love-dart the chance to create chaos..
~*~
I never understood why, of all nights, Zeus wanted me to do work this particular one. I mean, not that Zeus is the brightest star in the heavens, but still. It’s not like he got stoned and wanted me to create something monumental in between drags- that’s how the platypus came about and Hades loves to rub his face in that enigma. I remember that brainstorming session quite well.
Taking a toke on the ‘magic’ weed, Zeus had said, “Let’s take a beaver.”
I scratched my head for two reasons. “What’s a beaver and where are we taking it?”
“Quiet, lowly earthworm!” he coughed and drew in another sampling of the sweet smoke. “So, we take this beaver and stick a duck’s bill on it…”
“Uh, my god supreme -”
His raised eyebrow of doom effectively shut me up at that point.
“And this whatshewhosit is a mammal, but it lays eggs like a chicken,” Zeus continued after blowing out a puff of smog.
“Is that its name? A whatshewhosit?” I dared to ask.
For my daring, I got a lightning bolt tossed at my ass as he thundered, “No, you capricious bastard! It’s a platypus.”
As if that explained everything. Even to this day, scientists are still completely baffled as to how this creature exists. So are we, the gods, but we’ve stopped asking about it since we value our nether regions.
But I digress. I’m not complaining about my mission - I get double rations of ambrosia for a week - but I'd prefer to go to one of Dionysus’ parties and get my freak on with Psyche.
I’m being sent into the Wizarding world, as they've labeled it now. Call me behind the times, but I remember when Merlin was doing his hocus-pocus thing with no complaints from the non-magic folk. Well, no complaints until I accidentally shot Elaine, the Lady of the Lake, and Merlin with a lust dart. Then the grievance department on Mount Olympus got flooded with sacrifices galore because Merlin had been trapped by Elaine in a crystal cave. Personally, I think it was just his way of taking a vacation from the nagging peasants, but I guess things have changed since then.
So here I am, standing beside a dark, handsome man who has just passed out from too much elfish wine and hoping he passes as someone inconspicuous so that I can shrug off my toga. Unfortunately, most of the human populous envisions me as a snot-nosed cherub in a nappy with tiny wings that couldn’t carry the weight of a humming bird with aspect to ratio. I take on his shape and head up a flight of steps to this kid’s New Year’s party, knowing others will only see me as this person and I can mingle at my leisure.
Strolling up the main pathway, tall hedges on each side, I notice these ‘old blood’ wizards have many fountains outside. One is so ornate that it makes the Fontana di Trevi in Rome look miniscule in comparison. White peacocks still strut on the front lawn, preening for the guests as much as they do for their masters, even though it is now bitterly cold with clouds gathering to coat the land in porcelain dust. To their credit, the ostentatious birds don’t seem to mind the frigid temperatures all that much.
I am admitted inside, and what I see is almost disgusting in its grandeur - Hades would give his primordial ooze just to look around this human abode. The young wizard’s taste in extravagance and his father's vary little, from my observation. The ceiling was charmed to reflect the night sky, and since it was overcast outside, only a few stars and the moon were visible through a small hole in the clouds. A quick look past the window panes confirmed my suspicion of snow falling softly, almost silently upon the massive grounds, and soon the ceiling echoed the atmosphere outside.
Ensembles of instruments are floating in midair, charmed to play various selections from Mozart, Chopin, and Tchaikovsky - including one that sounds suspiciously like Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star hooked on speed. As I look around and take in the scene, I notice the same pattern of behavior that would happen at his father's parties; people splitting off into groups that gave the undeniable impression that there was animosity between some of them.
These cliquish groups amuse me to no end. Eventually, they’ll provide fodder for the gods, but for now I’ll just observe them as they go about their merry ways. It may seem like I know what I’m doing, Zeus having trusted me and all, but while I’m the patron of male love - isn’t that a kicker - I really have no clue as to what the Hades I’m supposed to do.. I know, I know, Eros and all, one would think I have an idea or a general conception about my mission. Just because I allow myself to ‘see’ tonight doesn’t mean I’m infallible. In fact, I really am blind.
Zeus told me I was to shoot two arrows tonight, but even with this new eyesight, my vision is hazy at best. Instead, I'll be leaving drops in their drinks. Foolproof, right? No mistaken guests accidentally hit with a stray dart. Best idea I’ve had in eons. What were his instructions? Ah, yes… he had said third from the left, second row and first on the right, last row. There we go, two drops in each glass - any more and they’ll be playing naked Twister… with the peacocks. As I walk away and return to my spirit shape, I perch myself on the balcony to watch.
~*~
Honestly, Hermione would much rather have spent New Year's Eve at home with Crookshanks, the wireless on as New Year's Live from London came through on the telly, and a pint of Fortescue’s best chocolate almond ripple than to be standing amongst all these boot-lickers. She could’ve spent it in good company, and happy, instead of being here, playing pretend and trying to get drunk on expensive champagne.
Pity it wasn't working.
Wandering around, she spoke to old house members and colleagues from the ministry, in general being social, no matter how she felt otherwise. Unable to locate their generous host yet, she wandered over to the punch table in search of something stronger. Spying a fuller goblet towards the back, she plucked it from its companions and cradled it in her hands, hoping it would be spiked.
Sipping, she downed half of the glass in record time, licking her lips of the lingering sweet taste. The warmth of the liquid spread through her like wildfire and she started to feel tingles in her stomach, making her giddy. Good. At least something was working.
~*~
She looked gorgeous tonight.
Well, so did he by that token, but it was very rare to see Miss Granger all dolled up. Her hair was piled upon her head and her gown was lovely; a deep burgundy with gold trim in typical Gryffindor colors. The scoop neck in front emphasized the swell of her breasts and a dip in the back, teasing to the line of her spine. The empire waist accentuated her trim hips, and the hemline was shorter in the front than in the back, showing off her long legs. A gold chain adorned with a ruby pendant that settled in the hollow of her throat completed the ensemble.
He had to admit, common though she may be, red was definitely her color. Hermione Granger radiated beauty, and she absolutely sparkled.
Hang on a tic. Why was he talking like this? To himself even!
Malfoys never waxed poetic! But especially, this Malfoy never waxed poetic about that Granger. He was much too utilitarian for that. But as he sipped his punch, Draco found the ache to spend another New Year with Astoria - his now ex-wife - grew less, and the curiosity of how to officially ring in the New Year with Hermione grew more and more.
~*~
Still perched on the balcony ledge, Eros watched as his two victims - erm, his two love potentials - drank his potion. He smiled wanly as their cheeks became flushed, the woman giggling with her redheaded friend, and the blond man leaning against a column with his pelvis thrust forward in an I’m sexually dangerous kind of way. He sighed heavily, wondering why his master had not chosen Aphrodite for this mission, as she was more suited. Probably one of her I’m-A-Bitch-And-I-Will-Curse-Men-With-Random-Bald-Patches-For-Eternity days.
"I didn't know the Malfoys were in the graces of the gods," a voice behind him said, startling him..
"Who in Zeus' name are you?” he spluttered, darting his eyes to the sides. “A-and you shouldn’t be able to see me," Eros stuttered.
"I'm Luna Lovegood, thanks for asking.” The blonde woman smiled genially at him, her gaze focused just above his hair. “And of course I can't see you, but the Wrackspurts hanging around your head gave you away. That, and the breeze, which I am assuming is originating from your wings."
Damn it! He’d totally forgotten about his wings. Eros let himself appear in the form of the young man he’d chosen earlier, and crossed his arms, glaring at her.
"Oh, Blaise!” she exclaimed, nearly falling over the edge of the step she stood on. “I didn't realize you were Eros. No wonder Pansy ever gave up on Draco!"
He frowned, tilting his head to study her. “I'm not that Blaise bloke,” he said slowly, as if talking to a child. “He's in one of the downstairs chambers, probably waking up.” Scooting over, he indicated that she should sit next to him, which she prompt did. “Zeus gave me a job to do,” he continued, “which I can't tell you about, so don’t even ask.” Rubbing the back of his neck he sighed. “I needed to look like someone, and he was a handy candidate. I don't think a toga or nappies would pass for the dress code at this event."
Luna nodded. "Very true."
There was silence for a moment between the two of them as they scanned the crowd. "Your job wouldn't have anything to do with Hermione, would it?" she asked, ignoring his warning about questions.
"I told you, I can't say anything." He then looked over his shoulder at her, wondering what in Hades she was, because while she smelled human, there was something ethereal about her. "But… saying I could,” he hedged with a smirk. ”Who would that be?"
Sitting up straight, Luna peered at the throngs of party-goers and pointed at a woman in red who was twirling in a black haired man’s arms. As the dance wore on, the brunette giggled madly and the poor, bespectacled fellow looked rather nauseous.
"That one."
The girl in question broke away from the first bloke and began dancing with someone invisible to everyone but her, laughing at his unheard jokes.
Eros scowled. "Maybe." He shrugged. "Looks like she was our winner tonight."
It was Luna’s turn to stare at him in curiosity. “Don’t you know who you’re supposed to bring together?"
Pursing his lips, the god sneered at his temporary companion. “And when has Zeus deigned to tell any of us anything?” he snorted. “All I was told was ‘Go forth and meld together a strong union from within Merlin’s society’.” Eros shook his head in exasperation. “The supreme commander of the world was probably stinking drunk on wine from Dionysus’ special grove.”
“Well, she doesn’t look mortally wounded, nor has she sprung a leak from holes caused by the arrows,” Luna theorized. “So how did you do it?”
He mumbled something under his breath.
“What?”
“I said, Aphrodite’s Love Potion, version nine.”
The petite blonde’s eyebrows rose. “She has nine love potions?”
“Actually, she has three-hundred and twenty-seven,” Eros explained.
“Why does she need that many?”
Grimacing, he tried to think of a delicate way to phrase just how base men and the god’s lusts could become. “You’ve heard of, erm… well, you see,” he faltered. “There are many kinds of love,” he started, but was thankfully stopped by her raised hand.
“I understand.” She returned her gaze to the ballroom. “So who received the other half of the potion?”
Eros turned his head to answer her, but was enchanted at her winning smile. Following her line of vision, he snickered as he watched Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger lock eyes. They were both doomed at that point, drawn to each other as they were, though one had to wonder if it really was the potion causing them to look at one another as if they were a banquet to a starving person.
Poor lovesick fools.
~*~
Her eyes lit up as she spied him, a captivating smile opening across her face.
He felt as if she was a magnet and he was metal, pulled to her charge helplessly.
When he pulled her close, his world suddenly became lighter; the prospect of a new year was no longer so daunting, not with her in his arms. With her, he would never be alone.
~*~
They were dancing.
Dancing - in public!
His arms were strong and manly around her, caressing the exposed flesh at the bottom of her spine. His scent was musky and deep, his breath warm and moist with a hint of cinnamon from the spiced punch.
She knew, in the back of her mind, that she was insane. What on earth was she doing? At that moment, however, she didn't care, and she would never have a care in the world if only she could stay within his protective embrace.
"Excuse me!" A highly perturbed voice snarled, followed by Hermione being yanked away from Draco. "So sorry to break this up, but I have to speak to my friend of ten years." The last words were said through gritted teeth.
Turning, she found a shock of russet hair and a ruddy complexion, and her ire flamed instantly. “What are you doing?” she hissed. Another voice intruded into her bliss and it felt like nails scraping across a blackboard.
"Good, because Draco - my friend since nappies - needs to talk to me." Narrowed eyes and a pugnacious glower showed the dark-haired woman was not pleased.
"But I want to stay -"
"Couldn’t we just -"
Both pleas were met with growls from their respective parties and a sharp tug that pulled the would-be lovers apart.
~*~
Seeing the distressful scene unfold before her, Luna admonished Eros. "That's not very charitable … messing with other people's lives like that.”
Bowing his head in shame, the Blaise look-a-like murmured, "No, it's not." He glanced at her balefully. “But it’s what the boss-man told me to do.” .
She pulled at some stitching on the hem of her gown. "They feel the need to hate each other, you know?"
Eros cocked his head. "No, surely not."
Luna nodded sadly. “It’s an important factor in their past. He was taught to hate her, she hated in return.”
“Well,” Eros drawled with a smirk. “Love Potion, version nine mind you, will work out perfectly then.
“I'm not sure our world is ready for them to be in love just yet."
He nodded in approval. "Good. You'll be pleased to know that when they wake up tomorrow, they'll be as good as new - or as new as they can be. Number nine only exposes feelings of a truly deep nature, ones that are buried so far beneath the surface that it was only a fleeting thought to either of them in the past and pushed aside for the stronger feeling of abhorrence. Everything will fade - except for that whole admitting their actual feelings for each other in public part."
Giving him a meaningful look, Luna hopped off the marble ledge. "That's good, I suppose.” Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill. “I must get going. Rolf will be looking for me. Nice talking with you."
Intending to follow her inside, Eros paused when she halted in front of him. He watched her eyes flash from grey to blue, then to indigo in a matter of seconds, causing him to frown. “What are you?” he whispered, entranced.
Leaning close, the blonde nuzzled his neck. “Eros, my love, you are not the only one on a mission.”
Eyes widening, the god made to grab the woman, but she backed away. “Psyche?” he breathed, desperate to feel her.
The enigmatic girl smiled. "Just so you know," she added with a tinge of menace, “I don’t expect to see you around here again.” Walking backwards, she opened the doors without looking. “If you interfere further with this fated pair, I would hate to see what happens when I get… upset.”
Eros gulped and nodded, acknowledging her poorly disguised threat. "I'll make note of that.” He smiled shyly. “Seems you’re the only one who can see my Wrackspurts, remember? Don't want to be revealed again."
"They're not yours, but nonetheless, yes. Goodnight."
She glided down the stairs and out of sight.
~*~
"Have you gone mad?" Ron barked, causing Hermione's back to stiffen. "What are you doing making moon-eyes at Draco bloody Malfoy?" he continued, until Harry pulled him back.
"What he means to say, Hermione,” Harry interceded, “is that you’ve had several glasses of champagne, and it’s highly possible that it could’ve gone to your head, making you do or say things you normally wouldn’t.”
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know.” She rubbed at an invisible ache in the vicinity of her heart. “I keep getting this tingly feeling whenever I look at him and he really isn't all that bad. I mean, we work together, for Merlin’s sake! We’ve even gone out to dinner a few times."
"So what, you’re dating him now?" Ron shouted, pacing behind Harry and tearing at his hair, as if this was all too much.
"Not exactly,” she admitted hesitantly. “We're good friends, and I don't know, maybe we -
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Ron seethed, glaring at her.
She opened her mouth to inform him what an arse he was being, but she stopped after catching Draco’s eye across the courtyard. Without a second thought or glance to the fuming Ron, she walked past them and towards the blond Slytherin.
~*~
Draco was not faring much better on his side of the courtyard. Pansy was berating him about Astoria and that if he ever wanted her back, he would need to stop associating with the lesser folk.
That was the point of no return.
Holding up his hand, he halted her tirade with a sigh. "I don't want Astoria back."
Pansy spluttered, "W-what?"
“You heard me. I. Don’t. Want. Astoria. Back.” He ran his fingers through his blond locks. “She was wretched and sometimes unbearable to be around. I miss what she represented, certainly, but I don't miss her, and I don't want her back."
This confession left his former classmate silent.
"And what's more, Granger and I have been seeing each other casually for a while now.” Draco reveled in Pansy’s shocked look, so he continued. “She was the one who talked with me, who dragged me to work when I didn't want to get out of bed, who actually gave a rat’s arse!” he said fervently, followed by what seemed to be a calming breath. Running his hand through his hair, he continued. “What I was missing in Astoria, I think I found in her."
Exhausted from the emotional upheaval his declaration wrung from him, he pinched the bridge of his nose, only to open his eyes and look across the courtyard to where his gaze caught Hermione’s. When she started to move towards him, there was no question as to whether he’d made the right decision, and he nodded to Pansy, who simply watched as he left..
~*~
For all I am a god of male love, two people in love really get me going, regardless of sex. And watching these two? Zeus, I want to cry. They were destined to be together, even if I hadn't used Aphrodite’s love potion. It’s that obvious.
So when I saw the boy cross the courtyard and stop short of the girl, I knew he was looking for something.
You know when I said I knew little about love? That wasn’t true. I know a lot about love. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen centuries and centuries of it, and it was the only thing that made watching this world bearable. All those wars. Pain and lies. Hate… It made me want to turn away and never look down again. But to see the way that mankind loves… You could search to the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful.
In this spirit, I made my way over to, nudging him closer to her. And just when he was about to make a fool of himself, I whispered in his ear...
~*~
The crowd inside was getting restless and people were starting to count down the last remaining moments of a year gone by. Who the bloody hell started at one hundred seconds to midnight, he’d never know, but apparently this group liked to draw out the anticipation, so he went along with it.
He was walking towards her, and not knowing what to say, but knowing that what he was about to say would probably be among the most dangerous things he did in his life, not counting his Hogwarts years.
Meaning to stop a few feet short of her, unsure of his welcome, the decision to complete the distance was made for him when he tripped, bringing him those few steps closer. Suddenly, she was standing there in front of him, stars in her eyes, waiting to bravely tread the path alongside him. She was beauty personified.
The countdown was nearing fifty as he opened his mouth a few times, desperate to say something, only to falter in the face of her obvious affection. At the moment he began to truly flounder, a light breeze teased his ears, like a lover seducing with words, and he then knew what he should tell her.
Taking her slender hands in his, Draco whispered, "I know that love is unconditional. But I also know that it can be unpredictable, unexpected, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing.” He had the grace to blush profusely at the reminder of their feud from the past. “What I'm trying to say, Hermione, is I think I love you. My heart... it feels like my chest can barely contain it. Like it doesn't belong to me anymore, that it belongs to you.” He took her tearful and tremulous smile as a good sign. “And if you wanted it, I'd wish for nothing in exchange. No gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine."
The countdown stopped as the house had reached one - they’d obviously started too early. The moment of hushed stillness stretched on, for what seemed like forever, as the smile on Hermione’s face grew. Grasping her fingers with an intensity he’d not realized before, he released them and inhaled deeply, fully prepared to convince her of his sincerity when she opened her mouth and effectively silenced him.
"Oh, Draco,” she murmured. “I love you, too. More than you’ll probably ever know."
Then she was kissing him. And as the clock tolled midnight, the fireworks he’d set up with the house-elves started to go off. It didn't compare to the fireworks going off before his eyes, of course, with the way her body felt against his. Finally, he found where he knew he belonged.
Her mouth, soft, warm, and sweet, tasted of promises and the future. The sable richness of her long beautiful curls begged for his fingers to thread themselves throughout her mane, and her eyes bespoke of everything he’d exactly wanted from love.
The fireworks were going off for him, for them, as a testament to the power of a little four-letter word. They’d been waiting for months, even years, to convey the level of love and trust they held for each other, and now they were free to do so. Pulling back from his delectable mouth, she rubbed her nose with his and grinned, indicating that he should look to the side. When he did, a mischievous smirk spread across his face, making him more handsome than usual. There stood Weasley and Potter, jaws gapping wide as they tried, and failed, not to look at their best friend snogging their nemesis. In a way, it was poetic justice.
"Happy New Year, Draco," Hermione breathed against his lips.
And in Draco’s opinion, it was only going to get better.
~*~
Shrugging off the visage of one quirky Luna Lovegood, Psyche shook her head and smiled at the lovers. Yes, Happy New Year, indeed. Come tomorrow, there would definitely be more than a little bit of explaining to do, but for now, she had her own appointment with Eros... and she fully expected to be unavailable for any mission for a very long time afterwards.
~~~~~~
For those curious, the prompt was this quote:
"You know when I said I knew little about love? That wasn’t true. I know a lot about love. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen centuries and centuries of it, and it was the only thing that made watching your world bearable. All those wars. Pain and lies. Hate… It made me want to turn away and never look down again. But to see the way that mankind loves… You could search to the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful. So yes, I know that love is unconditional. But I also know it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing, and… What I’m trying to say, Tristan, is… I think I love you. My heart… It feels like my chest can barely contain it. Like it doesn’t belong to me any more. It belongs to you. And if you wanted it, I’d wish for nothing in exchange. No gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine."
Neil Gaiman, Stardust/Screenplay writers: Jane Goldman, Matthew Vaughn
Also, the inclusion of a platypus and Variations on Mozart's “Ah vous dirai-je, Maman.”
ferretbush_post is the account the mods use to post the gifts. It has not authored or created any of the gifts.
Author/Artist: lynnec114
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Oh, god, if they were mine...but they're not. Nor am I being paid. I'm just a lonely, bored college student who looks for any excuse not to write papers.
Warnings: None
Summary: Cupid is given a mission for New Year's Eve.
Notes: elyaeru, I really hope you like this. I enlisted lots of help because sometimes I'm really slow. XD Also, I happened to fit in the ENTIRE quote... I hope you're okay with that!
Thanks to my beta, rivertempest for, as usual, preventing me from sounding like a ten year old on crack and also helping me sound funny. I promise, anything remotely giggleable in this piece was her idea. THANK YOU FOR THAT.
-
New Year's Eve is a special night in the world of magic. Witches, wizards, magical creatures, faeries, and pixies -- they’re all affected by this event. It’s not as magical as the Winter Solstice perhaps, but there is a certain tension-- an aura of excitement -- as we all turn another year older. And because it was a special night, Zeus - that unpredictable despot imitating Laurence Olivier - decided to set about seeing what mischief he could embroil his minions in.
This brings us to the Greek gods, specifically the one named Eros, or as the insipid Romans like to call him, Cupid.. Although there are no longer believers-- monotheism nipped that in the bud -- they still reside on Mount Olympus, laughing and singing the eons away. Tonight, however, is where things start anew.
Eros, of course, will be our guide tonight per Zeus’ orders. Though he’s gone by many a moniker, Eros’ game has largely remained unaffected. There was that Helen of Troy debacle that Zeus never let him live down - he steadfastly maintained there were just too many suitors milling about to get a clear shot with his arrows - but for the most part he enjoyed immense success. It’s true that love is blind, and therefore, so is Eros. Tonight though, he chose to see by taking the form of a guest at a particular party, because this assignment was too important to allow a mere misguided love-dart the chance to create chaos..
~*~
I never understood why, of all nights, Zeus wanted me to do work this particular one. I mean, not that Zeus is the brightest star in the heavens, but still. It’s not like he got stoned and wanted me to create something monumental in between drags- that’s how the platypus came about and Hades loves to rub his face in that enigma. I remember that brainstorming session quite well.
Taking a toke on the ‘magic’ weed, Zeus had said, “Let’s take a beaver.”
I scratched my head for two reasons. “What’s a beaver and where are we taking it?”
“Quiet, lowly earthworm!” he coughed and drew in another sampling of the sweet smoke. “So, we take this beaver and stick a duck’s bill on it…”
“Uh, my god supreme -”
His raised eyebrow of doom effectively shut me up at that point.
“And this whatshewhosit is a mammal, but it lays eggs like a chicken,” Zeus continued after blowing out a puff of smog.
“Is that its name? A whatshewhosit?” I dared to ask.
For my daring, I got a lightning bolt tossed at my ass as he thundered, “No, you capricious bastard! It’s a platypus.”
As if that explained everything. Even to this day, scientists are still completely baffled as to how this creature exists. So are we, the gods, but we’ve stopped asking about it since we value our nether regions.
But I digress. I’m not complaining about my mission - I get double rations of ambrosia for a week - but I'd prefer to go to one of Dionysus’ parties and get my freak on with Psyche.
I’m being sent into the Wizarding world, as they've labeled it now. Call me behind the times, but I remember when Merlin was doing his hocus-pocus thing with no complaints from the non-magic folk. Well, no complaints until I accidentally shot Elaine, the Lady of the Lake, and Merlin with a lust dart. Then the grievance department on Mount Olympus got flooded with sacrifices galore because Merlin had been trapped by Elaine in a crystal cave. Personally, I think it was just his way of taking a vacation from the nagging peasants, but I guess things have changed since then.
So here I am, standing beside a dark, handsome man who has just passed out from too much elfish wine and hoping he passes as someone inconspicuous so that I can shrug off my toga. Unfortunately, most of the human populous envisions me as a snot-nosed cherub in a nappy with tiny wings that couldn’t carry the weight of a humming bird with aspect to ratio. I take on his shape and head up a flight of steps to this kid’s New Year’s party, knowing others will only see me as this person and I can mingle at my leisure.
Strolling up the main pathway, tall hedges on each side, I notice these ‘old blood’ wizards have many fountains outside. One is so ornate that it makes the Fontana di Trevi in Rome look miniscule in comparison. White peacocks still strut on the front lawn, preening for the guests as much as they do for their masters, even though it is now bitterly cold with clouds gathering to coat the land in porcelain dust. To their credit, the ostentatious birds don’t seem to mind the frigid temperatures all that much.
I am admitted inside, and what I see is almost disgusting in its grandeur - Hades would give his primordial ooze just to look around this human abode. The young wizard’s taste in extravagance and his father's vary little, from my observation. The ceiling was charmed to reflect the night sky, and since it was overcast outside, only a few stars and the moon were visible through a small hole in the clouds. A quick look past the window panes confirmed my suspicion of snow falling softly, almost silently upon the massive grounds, and soon the ceiling echoed the atmosphere outside.
Ensembles of instruments are floating in midair, charmed to play various selections from Mozart, Chopin, and Tchaikovsky - including one that sounds suspiciously like Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star hooked on speed. As I look around and take in the scene, I notice the same pattern of behavior that would happen at his father's parties; people splitting off into groups that gave the undeniable impression that there was animosity between some of them.
These cliquish groups amuse me to no end. Eventually, they’ll provide fodder for the gods, but for now I’ll just observe them as they go about their merry ways. It may seem like I know what I’m doing, Zeus having trusted me and all, but while I’m the patron of male love - isn’t that a kicker - I really have no clue as to what the Hades I’m supposed to do.. I know, I know, Eros and all, one would think I have an idea or a general conception about my mission. Just because I allow myself to ‘see’ tonight doesn’t mean I’m infallible. In fact, I really am blind.
Zeus told me I was to shoot two arrows tonight, but even with this new eyesight, my vision is hazy at best. Instead, I'll be leaving drops in their drinks. Foolproof, right? No mistaken guests accidentally hit with a stray dart. Best idea I’ve had in eons. What were his instructions? Ah, yes… he had said third from the left, second row and first on the right, last row. There we go, two drops in each glass - any more and they’ll be playing naked Twister… with the peacocks. As I walk away and return to my spirit shape, I perch myself on the balcony to watch.
~*~
Honestly, Hermione would much rather have spent New Year's Eve at home with Crookshanks, the wireless on as New Year's Live from London came through on the telly, and a pint of Fortescue’s best chocolate almond ripple than to be standing amongst all these boot-lickers. She could’ve spent it in good company, and happy, instead of being here, playing pretend and trying to get drunk on expensive champagne.
Pity it wasn't working.
Wandering around, she spoke to old house members and colleagues from the ministry, in general being social, no matter how she felt otherwise. Unable to locate their generous host yet, she wandered over to the punch table in search of something stronger. Spying a fuller goblet towards the back, she plucked it from its companions and cradled it in her hands, hoping it would be spiked.
Sipping, she downed half of the glass in record time, licking her lips of the lingering sweet taste. The warmth of the liquid spread through her like wildfire and she started to feel tingles in her stomach, making her giddy. Good. At least something was working.
~*~
She looked gorgeous tonight.
Well, so did he by that token, but it was very rare to see Miss Granger all dolled up. Her hair was piled upon her head and her gown was lovely; a deep burgundy with gold trim in typical Gryffindor colors. The scoop neck in front emphasized the swell of her breasts and a dip in the back, teasing to the line of her spine. The empire waist accentuated her trim hips, and the hemline was shorter in the front than in the back, showing off her long legs. A gold chain adorned with a ruby pendant that settled in the hollow of her throat completed the ensemble.
He had to admit, common though she may be, red was definitely her color. Hermione Granger radiated beauty, and she absolutely sparkled.
Hang on a tic. Why was he talking like this? To himself even!
Malfoys never waxed poetic! But especially, this Malfoy never waxed poetic about that Granger. He was much too utilitarian for that. But as he sipped his punch, Draco found the ache to spend another New Year with Astoria - his now ex-wife - grew less, and the curiosity of how to officially ring in the New Year with Hermione grew more and more.
~*~
Still perched on the balcony ledge, Eros watched as his two victims - erm, his two love potentials - drank his potion. He smiled wanly as their cheeks became flushed, the woman giggling with her redheaded friend, and the blond man leaning against a column with his pelvis thrust forward in an I’m sexually dangerous kind of way. He sighed heavily, wondering why his master had not chosen Aphrodite for this mission, as she was more suited. Probably one of her I’m-A-Bitch-And-I-Will-Curse-Men-With-Random-Bald-Patches-For-Eternity days.
"I didn't know the Malfoys were in the graces of the gods," a voice behind him said, startling him..
"Who in Zeus' name are you?” he spluttered, darting his eyes to the sides. “A-and you shouldn’t be able to see me," Eros stuttered.
"I'm Luna Lovegood, thanks for asking.” The blonde woman smiled genially at him, her gaze focused just above his hair. “And of course I can't see you, but the Wrackspurts hanging around your head gave you away. That, and the breeze, which I am assuming is originating from your wings."
Damn it! He’d totally forgotten about his wings. Eros let himself appear in the form of the young man he’d chosen earlier, and crossed his arms, glaring at her.
"Oh, Blaise!” she exclaimed, nearly falling over the edge of the step she stood on. “I didn't realize you were Eros. No wonder Pansy ever gave up on Draco!"
He frowned, tilting his head to study her. “I'm not that Blaise bloke,” he said slowly, as if talking to a child. “He's in one of the downstairs chambers, probably waking up.” Scooting over, he indicated that she should sit next to him, which she prompt did. “Zeus gave me a job to do,” he continued, “which I can't tell you about, so don’t even ask.” Rubbing the back of his neck he sighed. “I needed to look like someone, and he was a handy candidate. I don't think a toga or nappies would pass for the dress code at this event."
Luna nodded. "Very true."
There was silence for a moment between the two of them as they scanned the crowd. "Your job wouldn't have anything to do with Hermione, would it?" she asked, ignoring his warning about questions.
"I told you, I can't say anything." He then looked over his shoulder at her, wondering what in Hades she was, because while she smelled human, there was something ethereal about her. "But… saying I could,” he hedged with a smirk. ”Who would that be?"
Sitting up straight, Luna peered at the throngs of party-goers and pointed at a woman in red who was twirling in a black haired man’s arms. As the dance wore on, the brunette giggled madly and the poor, bespectacled fellow looked rather nauseous.
"That one."
The girl in question broke away from the first bloke and began dancing with someone invisible to everyone but her, laughing at his unheard jokes.
Eros scowled. "Maybe." He shrugged. "Looks like she was our winner tonight."
It was Luna’s turn to stare at him in curiosity. “Don’t you know who you’re supposed to bring together?"
Pursing his lips, the god sneered at his temporary companion. “And when has Zeus deigned to tell any of us anything?” he snorted. “All I was told was ‘Go forth and meld together a strong union from within Merlin’s society’.” Eros shook his head in exasperation. “The supreme commander of the world was probably stinking drunk on wine from Dionysus’ special grove.”
“Well, she doesn’t look mortally wounded, nor has she sprung a leak from holes caused by the arrows,” Luna theorized. “So how did you do it?”
He mumbled something under his breath.
“What?”
“I said, Aphrodite’s Love Potion, version nine.”
The petite blonde’s eyebrows rose. “She has nine love potions?”
“Actually, she has three-hundred and twenty-seven,” Eros explained.
“Why does she need that many?”
Grimacing, he tried to think of a delicate way to phrase just how base men and the god’s lusts could become. “You’ve heard of, erm… well, you see,” he faltered. “There are many kinds of love,” he started, but was thankfully stopped by her raised hand.
“I understand.” She returned her gaze to the ballroom. “So who received the other half of the potion?”
Eros turned his head to answer her, but was enchanted at her winning smile. Following her line of vision, he snickered as he watched Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger lock eyes. They were both doomed at that point, drawn to each other as they were, though one had to wonder if it really was the potion causing them to look at one another as if they were a banquet to a starving person.
Poor lovesick fools.
~*~
Her eyes lit up as she spied him, a captivating smile opening across her face.
He felt as if she was a magnet and he was metal, pulled to her charge helplessly.
When he pulled her close, his world suddenly became lighter; the prospect of a new year was no longer so daunting, not with her in his arms. With her, he would never be alone.
~*~
They were dancing.
Dancing - in public!
His arms were strong and manly around her, caressing the exposed flesh at the bottom of her spine. His scent was musky and deep, his breath warm and moist with a hint of cinnamon from the spiced punch.
She knew, in the back of her mind, that she was insane. What on earth was she doing? At that moment, however, she didn't care, and she would never have a care in the world if only she could stay within his protective embrace.
"Excuse me!" A highly perturbed voice snarled, followed by Hermione being yanked away from Draco. "So sorry to break this up, but I have to speak to my friend of ten years." The last words were said through gritted teeth.
Turning, she found a shock of russet hair and a ruddy complexion, and her ire flamed instantly. “What are you doing?” she hissed. Another voice intruded into her bliss and it felt like nails scraping across a blackboard.
"Good, because Draco - my friend since nappies - needs to talk to me." Narrowed eyes and a pugnacious glower showed the dark-haired woman was not pleased.
"But I want to stay -"
"Couldn’t we just -"
Both pleas were met with growls from their respective parties and a sharp tug that pulled the would-be lovers apart.
~*~
Seeing the distressful scene unfold before her, Luna admonished Eros. "That's not very charitable … messing with other people's lives like that.”
Bowing his head in shame, the Blaise look-a-like murmured, "No, it's not." He glanced at her balefully. “But it’s what the boss-man told me to do.” .
She pulled at some stitching on the hem of her gown. "They feel the need to hate each other, you know?"
Eros cocked his head. "No, surely not."
Luna nodded sadly. “It’s an important factor in their past. He was taught to hate her, she hated in return.”
“Well,” Eros drawled with a smirk. “Love Potion, version nine mind you, will work out perfectly then.
“I'm not sure our world is ready for them to be in love just yet."
He nodded in approval. "Good. You'll be pleased to know that when they wake up tomorrow, they'll be as good as new - or as new as they can be. Number nine only exposes feelings of a truly deep nature, ones that are buried so far beneath the surface that it was only a fleeting thought to either of them in the past and pushed aside for the stronger feeling of abhorrence. Everything will fade - except for that whole admitting their actual feelings for each other in public part."
Giving him a meaningful look, Luna hopped off the marble ledge. "That's good, I suppose.” Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill. “I must get going. Rolf will be looking for me. Nice talking with you."
Intending to follow her inside, Eros paused when she halted in front of him. He watched her eyes flash from grey to blue, then to indigo in a matter of seconds, causing him to frown. “What are you?” he whispered, entranced.
Leaning close, the blonde nuzzled his neck. “Eros, my love, you are not the only one on a mission.”
Eyes widening, the god made to grab the woman, but she backed away. “Psyche?” he breathed, desperate to feel her.
The enigmatic girl smiled. "Just so you know," she added with a tinge of menace, “I don’t expect to see you around here again.” Walking backwards, she opened the doors without looking. “If you interfere further with this fated pair, I would hate to see what happens when I get… upset.”
Eros gulped and nodded, acknowledging her poorly disguised threat. "I'll make note of that.” He smiled shyly. “Seems you’re the only one who can see my Wrackspurts, remember? Don't want to be revealed again."
"They're not yours, but nonetheless, yes. Goodnight."
She glided down the stairs and out of sight.
~*~
"Have you gone mad?" Ron barked, causing Hermione's back to stiffen. "What are you doing making moon-eyes at Draco bloody Malfoy?" he continued, until Harry pulled him back.
"What he means to say, Hermione,” Harry interceded, “is that you’ve had several glasses of champagne, and it’s highly possible that it could’ve gone to your head, making you do or say things you normally wouldn’t.”
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know.” She rubbed at an invisible ache in the vicinity of her heart. “I keep getting this tingly feeling whenever I look at him and he really isn't all that bad. I mean, we work together, for Merlin’s sake! We’ve even gone out to dinner a few times."
"So what, you’re dating him now?" Ron shouted, pacing behind Harry and tearing at his hair, as if this was all too much.
"Not exactly,” she admitted hesitantly. “We're good friends, and I don't know, maybe we -
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Ron seethed, glaring at her.
She opened her mouth to inform him what an arse he was being, but she stopped after catching Draco’s eye across the courtyard. Without a second thought or glance to the fuming Ron, she walked past them and towards the blond Slytherin.
~*~
Draco was not faring much better on his side of the courtyard. Pansy was berating him about Astoria and that if he ever wanted her back, he would need to stop associating with the lesser folk.
That was the point of no return.
Holding up his hand, he halted her tirade with a sigh. "I don't want Astoria back."
Pansy spluttered, "W-what?"
“You heard me. I. Don’t. Want. Astoria. Back.” He ran his fingers through his blond locks. “She was wretched and sometimes unbearable to be around. I miss what she represented, certainly, but I don't miss her, and I don't want her back."
This confession left his former classmate silent.
"And what's more, Granger and I have been seeing each other casually for a while now.” Draco reveled in Pansy’s shocked look, so he continued. “She was the one who talked with me, who dragged me to work when I didn't want to get out of bed, who actually gave a rat’s arse!” he said fervently, followed by what seemed to be a calming breath. Running his hand through his hair, he continued. “What I was missing in Astoria, I think I found in her."
Exhausted from the emotional upheaval his declaration wrung from him, he pinched the bridge of his nose, only to open his eyes and look across the courtyard to where his gaze caught Hermione’s. When she started to move towards him, there was no question as to whether he’d made the right decision, and he nodded to Pansy, who simply watched as he left..
~*~
For all I am a god of male love, two people in love really get me going, regardless of sex. And watching these two? Zeus, I want to cry. They were destined to be together, even if I hadn't used Aphrodite’s love potion. It’s that obvious.
So when I saw the boy cross the courtyard and stop short of the girl, I knew he was looking for something.
You know when I said I knew little about love? That wasn’t true. I know a lot about love. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen centuries and centuries of it, and it was the only thing that made watching this world bearable. All those wars. Pain and lies. Hate… It made me want to turn away and never look down again. But to see the way that mankind loves… You could search to the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful.
In this spirit, I made my way over to, nudging him closer to her. And just when he was about to make a fool of himself, I whispered in his ear...
~*~
The crowd inside was getting restless and people were starting to count down the last remaining moments of a year gone by. Who the bloody hell started at one hundred seconds to midnight, he’d never know, but apparently this group liked to draw out the anticipation, so he went along with it.
He was walking towards her, and not knowing what to say, but knowing that what he was about to say would probably be among the most dangerous things he did in his life, not counting his Hogwarts years.
Meaning to stop a few feet short of her, unsure of his welcome, the decision to complete the distance was made for him when he tripped, bringing him those few steps closer. Suddenly, she was standing there in front of him, stars in her eyes, waiting to bravely tread the path alongside him. She was beauty personified.
The countdown was nearing fifty as he opened his mouth a few times, desperate to say something, only to falter in the face of her obvious affection. At the moment he began to truly flounder, a light breeze teased his ears, like a lover seducing with words, and he then knew what he should tell her.
Taking her slender hands in his, Draco whispered, "I know that love is unconditional. But I also know that it can be unpredictable, unexpected, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing.” He had the grace to blush profusely at the reminder of their feud from the past. “What I'm trying to say, Hermione, is I think I love you. My heart... it feels like my chest can barely contain it. Like it doesn't belong to me anymore, that it belongs to you.” He took her tearful and tremulous smile as a good sign. “And if you wanted it, I'd wish for nothing in exchange. No gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine."
The countdown stopped as the house had reached one - they’d obviously started too early. The moment of hushed stillness stretched on, for what seemed like forever, as the smile on Hermione’s face grew. Grasping her fingers with an intensity he’d not realized before, he released them and inhaled deeply, fully prepared to convince her of his sincerity when she opened her mouth and effectively silenced him.
"Oh, Draco,” she murmured. “I love you, too. More than you’ll probably ever know."
Then she was kissing him. And as the clock tolled midnight, the fireworks he’d set up with the house-elves started to go off. It didn't compare to the fireworks going off before his eyes, of course, with the way her body felt against his. Finally, he found where he knew he belonged.
Her mouth, soft, warm, and sweet, tasted of promises and the future. The sable richness of her long beautiful curls begged for his fingers to thread themselves throughout her mane, and her eyes bespoke of everything he’d exactly wanted from love.
The fireworks were going off for him, for them, as a testament to the power of a little four-letter word. They’d been waiting for months, even years, to convey the level of love and trust they held for each other, and now they were free to do so. Pulling back from his delectable mouth, she rubbed her nose with his and grinned, indicating that he should look to the side. When he did, a mischievous smirk spread across his face, making him more handsome than usual. There stood Weasley and Potter, jaws gapping wide as they tried, and failed, not to look at their best friend snogging their nemesis. In a way, it was poetic justice.
"Happy New Year, Draco," Hermione breathed against his lips.
And in Draco’s opinion, it was only going to get better.
~*~
Shrugging off the visage of one quirky Luna Lovegood, Psyche shook her head and smiled at the lovers. Yes, Happy New Year, indeed. Come tomorrow, there would definitely be more than a little bit of explaining to do, but for now, she had her own appointment with Eros... and she fully expected to be unavailable for any mission for a very long time afterwards.
~~~~~~
For those curious, the prompt was this quote:
"You know when I said I knew little about love? That wasn’t true. I know a lot about love. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen centuries and centuries of it, and it was the only thing that made watching your world bearable. All those wars. Pain and lies. Hate… It made me want to turn away and never look down again. But to see the way that mankind loves… You could search to the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful. So yes, I know that love is unconditional. But I also know it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing, and… What I’m trying to say, Tristan, is… I think I love you. My heart… It feels like my chest can barely contain it. Like it doesn’t belong to me any more. It belongs to you. And if you wanted it, I’d wish for nothing in exchange. No gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine."
Neil Gaiman, Stardust/Screenplay writers: Jane Goldman, Matthew Vaughn
Also, the inclusion of a platypus and Variations on Mozart's “Ah vous dirai-je, Maman.”
ferretbush_post is the account the mods use to post the gifts. It has not authored or created any of the gifts.