Chapter 4

                                    

                                          
    Lucy Rosier 🐺
1st of August, Waxing Crescent 🌒
   Here I stood again - in front of that great manor house of Malfoy family. I had not met Lucius again, as the way he looked at me and the growing feeling in my chest were becoming overwhelming. Every time I was near him I felt like my wild side was taking over and I could not allow myself such behaviour especially with a way older man and a respected ally of my family. One wrong move and years of common alliance could fall into ruin. 
We've been writing though and... oh... how wonderful his letters were! We spoke of poetry and plays, we shared our summer days in long pieces of writings. I waited impatiently for each and every one of them, barely able to withdraw myself from writing hastily back as soon as possible. My heart grew weaker and weaker for him, it was crumbling. I wished to meet him again, look into his eyes, listen to his tempting voice. 
    Finally one July morning an invitation came through. Lucius Malfoy was hosting Lughnasadh, marking the peek of the harvest season. I felt anxiety at the thought of meeting him but also counted the days down.
   This time the party was taking place in his gardens at the back of the house. Familiar faces greeted me and my aunt. I wore a lacy, summery white dress, reaching my ankles. I tied my hair into a long braid which rested comfortably over my shoulder, not getting in the way. The garden was decorated with magical fairy lights and the nature was blooming over the tables filled with beverages, salads, baked apples, corn and cherry pies. My aunt went ahead and began speaking with one of the elder ladies, her bright green dress and matching hat melting in the background of surrounding nature. I walked towards the quiet corner of the garden. Mister Malfoy seemed occupied with one of the guests inside his house, so I still had time to sooth down before meeting him. I smiled and headed between hedges, enjoying the faint sounds of chatter and music. The air smelled of abundance, bees were flying around, buzzing quietly and the birds chirped cheerfully high up in the trees. 
'I'm going to miss you, summer' I pouted at the thought of fast approaching Autumn even if it had its beauty as well. As I walked deeper and deeper in the garden, I spotted a swing. I chuckled at the thought of having a go and I glanced over my shoulder just to make sure I wasn't followed. I slowly sat down on the wooden plank, making sure it was sturdy enough to hold my weight, and I began swinging. My braid loosened up, letting some curls go up in the air as I swung higher up. A childish laughter erupted from my throat as one of my beige ballerina shoes fell off to the ground, leaving my foot bare. I shut my eyes, enjoying the moment, warm air of the evening on my skin, the smell of ripe berries in the bushes. As I was nearly out of breath swinging my legs back and forth, I slew down and descended to the ground, panting softly, trying to see where did my shoe land. 
'Looking for this?' I glanced up with a gasp as I realised Lucius Malfoy had been leaning against the tree, watching. My missing shoe in his hand. As I was still trying to catch my breath, I nodded, chuckling a little. 
'Good evening, monsieur Malfoy' I breathed out and watched him approach me, as he kneeled down in front of me. His icy blue eyes travelled up my leg, to my rising and falling chest and onto my eyes as his fingertips palmed my calve and he slid my shoe back on its place gently. I stared at him in awe as he did that. His white shirt was resting neatly over his toned chest, a  family crest in shape of entwined snakes pinned at his collar. 
'My garden has been haunted by the Goddess of Harvest' he held out his hand to me and I took it, getting up slowly. The warmth of his hand brought butterflies to my stomach and I did not want to let go. Instead I stared into his eyes, drowning in their endless depth. 
'I'm hardly a Goddess, my lord' I saw him breath in sharply as his fingers caressed mine, before he brought my hand to his lips again, to rest those teasing small kisses all over it. At each kiss he kept eye contact and I just accepted them, my mouth almost watering for more. I felt my body tremble in need, a feeling so new and peculiar, I could think I were poisoned with a love potion. My lower lip hung open as I took a step closer. The humid air, the scent of roses, berries, various flowers I could not name and his touch made me let out a quietest moan as he rested one last kiss upon my fingertip. His eyes burned through me and all of it felt like a dream.