Draco Malfoy was enjoying a lazy morning at the Manor over the Spring break of his 7th year when he saw a golden unicorn trot by.

He blinked. Unicorns were rare enough, but golden unicorns? He'd never heard of such a thing.

The unicorn was stunning, its head lowered majestically. Draco shifted slightly, and he could see the unicorn's horn touching the ground as the unicorn ate, a rich spiral of heavy gold. The unicorn's coat shone and sparkled as the wind blew across its coat, and a calm, peaceful expression rested on its face as it munched on the grounds' jonquils.

Wait – jonquils?

With a yell, Draco threw open the manor doors and ran at the unicorn.

"Shoo! Go away, unicorn! Get!"

The unicorn looked up briefly at the young man running wildly at it, before calmly lowering its head to continue crunching at the flowers.

"No! Stop it, those are mother's flowers, you git! Stop it!"

"Draco!"

Draco froze at the sharp tones of his father, his voice carrying across the lawn. The unicorn looked at him without raising its head, and Draco could have sworn it looked amused.

"Cause your caterwauling this instant," Lucius Malfoy said sharply as he strode across the grass. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he'd already fallen silent at his father's command. "What possible cause could you-"

Lucius stopped short, the golden unicorn coming into his view. Draco watched curiously as his father froze, his eyes widening and his breath coming short.

"Draco," he said, his voice carefully even. "Is that a golden unicorn?"

Draco shot a puzzled look at his father.

"Yes, father," he said. He turned back to glare at the unicorn, who hadn't moved. "It was eating mother's jonquils, so I was trying to scare it off-"

"Draco!" Draco froze at his father's sharp voice once more. Getting annoyed now, Draco turned to look at his father, only to see his father had gone a ghostly white.

"You yelled at a golden unicorn and told it to go away?"

Lucius' voice was low and dangerous, and Draco felt his stomach tighten, despite the fact that he hadn't done anything wrong.

"It was eating the flowers," Draco said, not meeting his father's eyes.

Lucius' breath escaped in a hiss.

"Clearly, you have no idea what you might have done," his father said quietly. "Rest assured, I will inform you of what you nearly did later. As for now, however, the unicorn-"

Lucius moved forward slowly, extending a hand towards the unicorn tentatively.

With a whinny, the unicorn reared back suddenly and sprinted away, vanishing behind the Manor, leaving nothing but crushed grass and jonquils in its wake. Lucius' hand remained floating outstretched in air for a moment, before he slowly lowered it back to his side.

Draco looked at his father for a long moment, waiting patiently.

"Well," Lucius said, finally. He sighed. "It appears I'm not the Spring's Chosen." His eyes fixed upon Draco and gleamed. "Draco, the unicorn didn't run when you approached it?"

Draco felt uneasy under his father's gaze. "No..."

His father's eyes lit in triumph, and Draco felt his stomach sink.

"We will owl the Prophet," Lucius said, taking Draco's shoulder to lead him inside. "If you have been chosen, the unicorn will return, and the whole world will know that this honor was the Malfoy's."

Falling into step beside his father, Draco glanced at his father, unnerved, before casting a glance back at the spot the unicorn had stood.

A golden unicorn was unusual, to be sure, he mused, but surely it couldn't be that special.

Right?

Hermione had been enjoying passing the Spring and Easter break with the Weasleys at the Burrow. She'd been enjoying some morning tea while reading a new book, Transfigurations of the Thai, when Ginny started shouting.

"Mum! Mum!"

Ginny's yelling caught Hermione's attention, distracting her from her book. Her concentration snapped, she marked her place and set her book aside, looking up to where Ginny was looking out the window.

"Oh, what is it, Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley's tone was harried as she hurried in, clutching a basket of laundry.

"There's a unicorn in the yard," Ginny said, pointing. "Can you see it?"

Hermione watched as Mrs. Weasley squinted through the glass, peering.

"There is," Mrs. Weasley said, surprised. "How odd. I didn't think unicorns often left the forest. It's a beauty, though, isn't it?"

She murmured to herself for a moment, while Ginny watched the animal on the yard.

"Mum," Ginny said suddenly. "Don't you think it looks a little funny?"

Both Hermione and Mrs. Weasley turned to look at Ginny, who flushed under their collective gaze.

"Well, it does," Ginny said defensively. "It doesn't look white at all. It looks gray, really. It almost looks metallic when the sun hit it, like it's-"

With a sudden gasp, Mrs. Weasley shoved the laundry away and grabbed Ginny's wrist, heading for the door. She paused by the table, hesitating, before grabbing Hermione's wrist as well, catching Hermione by surprise as Mrs. Weasley tugged them both fiercely outside.

"Mrs. Weasley!"

"Mum!"

Mrs. Weasley shushed them frantically, her eyes darting as she looked out at the field. Sighing to herself, Hermione shielded her eyes and peered out into the field.

The unicorn was galloping about in large circles, Hermione could tell, but from this far, she couldn't tell what color its coat was at all. She watched as the unicorn changed its course, slowly approaching the house, drawing an excited gasp from Mrs. Weasley. Together, they watched as the unicorn drew near, finally coming to a stop a short way from the Burrow. From here, Hermione could see that the unicorn was a glittering silver color, its horn a spiral of metal.

"Okay, girls," Mrs. Weasley said, her voice hushed. "I'm going to approach it. If it runs away, don't worry – it'll be back. But stay here, and do not move."

Hermione watched as Mrs. Weasley moved slowly toward the unicorn, which regarded her with alert eyes, before taking off running into the field. Mrs. Weasley's face fell for a moment, before she turned back to the two girls, an expression of wonder crossing her face.

"Ginny next," she said, watching the unicorn in the distance.

"But Mum, what's-"

"Ssh!"

Hermione watched as the unicorn looped around in a large circle, once again slowing to approach the Burrow at a trot. When the unicorn stopped again, Mrs. Weasley pushed her daughter forward.

"Careful, now, Ginny, easy does it..."

Ginny moved toward the unicorn, but she got no father than her mother had before the unicorn ran away again, vanishing into the field.

Mrs. Weasley gasped, turning to Hermione, her eyes wide. Hermione fell still at the expression on Mrs. Weasley's face.

"Mrs. Weasley-?"

"You're to be the Spring's Chosen," Mrs. Weasley said faintly. "Oh, my. A muggleborn. Never in all my years... what an honor..."

"Mum! What are you talking about? What's that mean, the Spring's Chosen-?"

Hermione ignored them both, watching as unicorn turned again, nearing the house for the third time. As it drew to a stop once more, Hermione drew herself up, knowing what she was to do, even if she wasn't quite sure why.

"Careful, Hermione! Gentle!"

Hermione approached the unicorn warily, her eyes locked on those of the unicorn. The unicorn watched her approach slowly, its large black eyes unblinking, and Hermione moved steadily closer.

She heard Mrs. Weasley gasp behind her as Hermione passed the point both she and Ginny had reached, but Hermione kept her gaze focused firmly on the unicorn. The unicorn seemed to be regarding her almost with amusement at this point, its black eyes gleaming with laughter.

"I have no idea what you want with me," Hermione muttered, just loud enough for the others to catch. "But I suppose I'm about to find out."

Haltingly, hesitating, Hermione reached out her hand slowly to the unicorn.

Without hesitation, the unicorn moved underneath her hand, whinnying softly as it moved its head beneath Hermione's hand, letting her touch and pet it freely. Its large eyes looked up to meet Hermione's once more as she stroked its nose softly, and Hermione felt as if she'd somehow passed some unknown test.

"Well!"

Hermione turned sharply, startled, her hand still on the unicorn, and though the unicorn started as well, it didn't run away.

Mrs. Weasley approached, though she stopped a ways away, looking at them both thoughtfully.

"The Spring's Chosen," she said aloud, almost to herself. She paused, before smiling at Hermione brilliantly.

"Arthur will definitely have to hear about this."

By the time the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, and a whole host of reporters and photographers had assembled on the Manor's lawn, Draco had received a quick rundown on the Legend of the Golden Unicorn from his father.

The Golden Unicorn, Lucius had explained, was the messenger of Spring itself. It was very rare, and a very high honor to be chosen by the Spring. When the Spring sent the golden unicorn, it was a message from the Spring – to become the servant of the Spring itself, and receive immense power and wisdom in doing so.

Draco hadn't understood at first – spring was just a season, like any of the others. His mother had rapped him sharply over the head for his ignorance. The Seasons controlled the flow and ebb of magic through the earth, and Spring was the most powerful of these elementals, bringing new life, hope, guidance, and leadership to the entire earth. She told him how the Autumn had sent a black unicorn before the reign of Grindelwald, to warn that he was a harbinger of doom. The Spring's unicorn, however, hadn't been seen in centuries. The Spring had only chosen eight leaders in the history of magic, all from well-established magical families. It was a great honor, she emphasized, a great honor.

Draco's parents were still rapidly explaining what all it meant when they took him outside once more, amidst the roar of the reporters.

"This is a real opportunity for us, Draco," Lucius said lowly, a hand on the back of Draco guiding him carefully through the throng. "To be acknowledged by the Golden Unicorn is to be named a leader of the people by Magic itself. This is a historical moment."

"I haven't even touched it yet, though," Draco objected has he was hustled along. "What if I'm not really the chosen-?"

"Of course you're the chosen one," his father snapped. "It wasn't me, and there's no one else here."

"Of course, you'll have to marry whoever the Silver Unicorn's chosen," his mother said, matter-of-fact. "To do otherwise would be to stand deliberately in the way of the Spring's choice. But you'll need to break it off with Pansy immediately if you're still seeing her, unless she's been Chosen – your betrothed won't take too kindly to you cavorting with another when you're her intended."

"Marry? Mother, what-?"

"Hush, Draco! Look, there it is!"

There was a murmur as the unicorn approached once more, stopping far back from all the reporters. Draco looked up at his father, who pushed him forward.

"Go, Draco. Carefully. Make our family proud."

Ignoring the buzzing behind him, Draco walked toward the unicorn carefully, almost afraid of it as he approached. His eyes locked with the unicorn's large black eyes, and Draco was struck by the unicorn's expression. It was almost as if it were laughing, like it was enjoying this.

Before he knew it, he was right next to the unicorn, and a hush had fell over the entire estate.

"I'm going to try and touch you now," Draco told the unicorn. The unicorn raised an eyebrow at him, and Draco swallowed heavily. "Please, please, if I'm the Chosen, please just let me touch you," Draco murmured under his breath, wrenching up his face and closing his eyes as he reached out toward the unicorn with his hand. "Please, please, please let it be me, my father will kill me at this point if I'm not-"

A warm nose came under his hand, soft fur rubbing against his palm, hot breath buffeting his arm. Wonderingly, Draco opened his eyes to see the unicorn looking at him, wearing an expression almost akin to a smirk.

"It's him!"

"It's the Spring's Chosen!"

A cheer came from the crowd, and flash bulbs went off across the grounds as photographers jockeyed to try and capture the historic moment. Draco blinked, disoriented, before looking back down at the unicorn. The unicorn smirked at him, and for a moment, Draco felt like he'd been tricked, that this was all some horrible trap.

"Unicorn," Draco said, his gaze suspicious. "Any idea what my mother was going on about before, about there being a silver unicorn too?"

The unicorn laughed at him. It laughed at him, Draco would swear later, there was definitely a laugh in the amused whinny that it gave. But it looked him in the eye and smirked, deliberately not giving him an answer in any way.

"It's a rare part of the Spring Equinox," Mr. Weasley explained, watching with amazement as Hermione brushed out the silver unicorn's coat. "When the Spring chooses a new leader by sending his out his golden unicorn, he sends a silver unicorn to designate the leader's fated companion."

"So it's a match-making thing?" Hermione asked, her voice incredulous.

"It's much more than that, Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Hermione, whoever your unicorn leads you to, he will be faithful to you beyond measure! It is said that the Spring's chosen leader is motivated by his desire to capture to the love of his chosen one, not through any desire of his own. The one the Golden Unicorn has chosen for you will go to the ends of the earth for you to win your affection. You could not find a more perfect match than one declared by the fates."

"So he'll have to listen to me?" Hermione cocked her head. "So even though whoever the golden unicorn chose will be the leader, he actually has to listen to the person the Silver Unicorn chose?"

"That's the way of it, Hermione," Mr. Weasley said, nodding. "Together, the gold and silver come forward to lead the magical world forward into the future."

"What if the guy the golden unicorn chose refuses?" Hermione asked. "What if it chose Voldemort or someone else who hated me?"

Mrs. Weasley gasped at the name, and Mr. Weasley frowned.

"Only once has a leader chosen by the Spring denied their fated match," Mr. Weasley said slowly. "He was a war lord, and his match was the daughter of the leader of the enemy camp. If I remember correctly, he ended up crushed under the hoof of the silver unicorn as his fated mate bravely led her father's army to victory."

A slow smile spread across Hermione's face. "So no matter what happens, what I want will win out?"

"That's a very narrow view to take, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said, admonishing. "The Spring might not have chosen this time to send his messengers because of You-Know-Who. It could be any number of things, really-"

Hermione rolled her eyes, before turning back to Mr. Weasley. "So what happens next?" she asked. "Does the unicorn suddenly turn into my fated match, or what?"

"At midnight, the equinox will arrive," Mr. Weasley said. "At that time, you'll need to get on the unicorn, and it will take you to the fated place to meet the leader chosen by the Golden Unicorn."

They all fell silent at that, save the soft neighing of the unicorn as Hermione finished grooming its coat.

"Well, that gives us several hours yet to make you look as pretty as possible," Mrs. Weasley said sensibly, casting a critical eye over Hermione's wild hair. "You can't start off your magnificent future without looking your best, you know."

Pansy hadn't been the one chosen by the Silver Unicorn. Neither had the Greengrass girls, or Tracey Davis, or Millicent Bullstrode (thank Merlin). But as Draco watched his father fire off owl after owl, he finally realized what was making his father so frantic.

The Silver Unicorn's chosen wasn't going to be a follower of the Dark Lord.

His mother was occupied with the house elves, having them take his measurements. She wanted them to construct him an entirely new outfit by midnight for him to wear when he rode to meet his match, one that would suit him as the new leader of the magical world. If she was bothered by the identity of his future consort, she didn't show it.

Draco turned to look at his father.

His father, obviously, did.

Draco considered it. It was a great honor to be chosen by the golden unicorn, sure. But it meant that he'd have to obey the wishes of some random girl fate had chosen for him, or else he'd suffer the consequences?

There was only one girl Draco had ever cared about enough to listen to, and from what he'd heard of the history of the legend, she wasn't likely to be picked.

The whole idea was flawed, then, Draco decided. Fate be damned, if the Silver Unicorn hadn't picked the girl he loved, then Draco wasn't going to listen to her. He could still go along with her plans, he guessed (so he didn't end up dead and trampled), but he wouldn't marry her, and he certainly wouldn't go to the ends of the earth for her. If fate knew anything at all, it should know that Draco wasn't one to abide being bossed around by anyone he didn't want.

So there, Draco thought stubbornly, ignoring the fact he was being childish.

"Draco."

Draco turned to look at his father, then suppressed a gasp, startled by what he saw.

His father seemed like he had aged twenty years in the space of an hour. His face was haggard and drawn, his hair mussed, and his eyes bleak.

"Draco, no one has heard who the Silver Unicorn has picked," Lucius said wearily. "You must know what that means."

Draco nodded. "It's no one from the Dark Lord's camp, then," he said aloud. "They'd all have called for the press like we did."

Lucius nodded once, hopelessly.

"If the Spring has not chosen one of the Dark Lord's daughters as consort, we-" He stopped talking and swallowed heavily. "-We have to recognize the possibility that he has chosen someone who actively works against our cause. A Bones daughter, perhaps. We'll pray it's not the Weasley girl."

Draco watched his father struggle, keeping his own thoughts quiet and to himself.

"If the consort works against us, that means-" Here, again, his father stopped, struggling to form the words, "-that the Dark Lord has been fated for defeat. For even if you stand against your consort, it is fated that it is the path of the Silver's chosen will be lead to victory, not the path of the Golden."

There was a silence.

"So that's it, then," Draco observed. "I'll stand against the Silver, and I'll die."

"No."

There was a sudden noise as Lucius hurled a goblet against the wall in fury, and Draco fell silent, watching his father warily.

"The Malfoy Family," Lucius hissed, his eyes glittering, "has stood strong for over a thousand years. And its heir has been chosen to lead the magical world by the Spring himself. I will not see the Malfoy family's legacy crushed, all because we were too proud to bend ourselves to the winning side."

Draco blinked. "So- what, we're defecting? Becoming Dumbledore's men, now?"

Lucius dragged a hand through his hair, looking haggard.

"There's no other choice, Draco," he said roughly. "You, at least, will have an easy time of it, being the Spring's Chosen and unmarked as you are. I'd never thought I'd be grateful you refused to take the mark until you graduated. I, though... I'll have to throw myself on Dumbledore's mercy. Or at the mercy of your consort, at least." His eyes looked bleak. "I pray that she is more merciful than Dumbledore, at least. I don't think my pride could take bending my knee to that buffoon."

Draco watched as his father muttered to himself, dragging his eyes back to the piles of scrolls the owls had brought. All people trying to curry favor with the new leader, Draco guessed. He'd let his father deal with that.

His father's words echoing in his mind, Draco scanned the article the Daily Prophet had written and printed, the ink not yet an hour old. Draco Malfoy, the Spring's Chosen Leader. The Spring's Chosen Consort, still a mystery. What the lack of a consort implied, what the world was to do.

In the space of a day, the Wizarding World had nearly turned itself inside out. The Prophet was practically screaming "Abandon ship!" and declaring Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix to be the victors in the war. No one, it seemed, wanted to be on the losing side.

There was a lone editorial encouraging people to wait to see who the consort truly was, warning of the punishment of betrayal, but even that seemed rather half-hearted.

Draco closed the newspaper and tossed it back to the table. He murmured a word to his father, who nodded helplessly, before going outside.

The Golden Unicorn was running wildly about, dodging the crush of reporters and photographers who desperately tried to get close for a better shot. Amused, Draco weaved his way through them to approach the unicorn, who stopped and stood still to wait.

"You're causing a ruckus, you know," he told the unicorn, and the unicorn sniffed, as if to say "So what?" Draco led the unicorn to the edge of the grounds by the forest, showing it to a group of daffodils. The unicorn bent its head to munch at the flowers, and Draco sat down, reclining against the majestic creature.

"So the Dark Lord's fated to be beaten," Draco said, picking a wayward iris and feeding it to the unicorn. "Know anything about that?"

The unicorn's eyes gleamed with intelligence, but it otherwise remained silent.

"It's time!"

Hermione's eyes were dragged down from the full moon hanging in the sky to look at Mrs. Weasley, who was waving at her. She sighed, before getting to her feet.

"You do know how to ride, don't you, Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "If you can't, I don't know what I was thinking, making you wear that dress-"

"I'll be fine, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione reassured her. "Unicorns can account for their riders, you know. You don't actually have to know how to ride."

"Oh." Mrs. Weasley paused. "I don't know how I forgot that," she said, shaking her head disparagingly. "I suppose I've just been so busy-"

"It's fine, Mum." Ginny stepped up beside her mother, laying a calming hand on her arm. "We were all busy with all this. Don't worry about it."

"I suppose that's true," Mrs. Weasley admitted. She turned to look up at Hermione, offering her a smile. "You look magnificent, dear."

Hermione smiled. She did look stunning. Mrs. Weasley had transfigured her old wedding dress and a spare tablecloth into a lovely white gown edged in silver and gold. The skirt was full and very dramatic, and the bust and sleeves fit her perfectly, reminding Hermione of old medieval style dresses and robes. Her hair had been coaxed into gentle waves that tumbled gracefully down her back, and Ginny had loaned her a hairband for her head that Mr. Weasley had turned into a circlet of gold.

"I only wish the boys were here to see this," Mrs. Weasley said, choking on tears. "Poor Ron. Even if he wasn't the one the Spring chose, he'd have liked to see you like this."

Hermione glanced at the unicorn, who looked bored. She kept her own face carefully expressionless – Harry and Ron had vanished the first morning of Spring Break, leaving a note that they were on a dangerous mission for Dumbledore. Mrs. Weasley was still upset at the thought of the boys risking their lives, no matter what the cause.

"I wish we didn't have to be so secretive in these times," Mr. Weasley agreed. He clapped Hermione on the back. "I'd have liked to owl the twins to come over. They'd have gotten a kick out of all this. Their shop isn't under Fidelius, I'd wager – I wonder if they've heard who the Golden one's chosen." He offered a hopeful grin to Hermione. "Hopefully all that'll change soon, eh?"

Hermione shrugged helplessly, and the unicorn pawed at her once, neighing.

"Oh my! You really must get going!" Mrs. Weasley hustled Hermione over to the unicorn. Careful not to make a mess of her skirts, Hermione swung herself up onto the unicorn.

"Oh, don't you make such a sight." Mrs. Weasley's eyes glittered with tears. "Go on, now, dear. Go."

With a magnificent whinny, the unicorn reared back on two legs, Hermione gripping its sides tightly with her legs, before they raced off into the night.

Riding a unicorn wasn't nearly as fun as he'd thought it'd be.

His mother had gotten the outfit done on time, somehow – Draco suspected threats of clothes to the house elves had done the trick. It was a finely cut shirt and trousers from a rich white fabric that Draco couldn't recognize, and there was gold and silver embroidery edging the sides and the hems. To show willingness to the union, his mother had advised him. Every little bit helped.

The reporters and photographers all clapped and cheered as the golden unicorn had reared back and whinnied at midnight before setting off, and for a moment, Draco had felt every bit the leader he'd suddenly been called to be.

But now? Now, Draco couldn't help wondering if the unicorn was somehow trying to kill him.

Every turn the unicorn took in the forest seemed designed to unseat or jostle him. The unicorn kept running directly into low-hanging branches, forcing Draco to duck awkwardly and get swatted in the face with leaves, and once, the unicorn had trampled through an easily-avoidable pond, soaking the bottom part of Draco's trousers with water.

To top it off, the unicorn seemed to be doing it on purpose. Every time he yelled at one of the unicorn's antics, the unicorn seemed to smirk at him. Like it was funny.

Draco looked up at the moon, big and full above the trees. If nothing else, it was a beautiful night. It almost seemed magical, and Draco supposed that it probably was – Spring's Chosen or not, the Equinox held a power all its own.

Finally, finally, the unicorn broke through the trees, slowing to a trot, approaching the middle of a vast grassy plain.

Draco craned his head, trying to see. It looked like the other unicorn had arrived and was about to join them. It was hard to see in the dark, but Draco could see from the glimmer of the unicorn's fur that it was silver. The girl who rode it was also wearing white, Draco noted with faint surprise. If he wasn't mistaken, she had on a circlet of gold holding back her hair, which was-

With a loud laugh, Draco swung himself down off his unicorn and ran to Hermione, who'd swung off her ride to run to meet him. Laughing, Draco swept her up and spun her around, her skirts dancing around them, before setting her down and kissing her, her lips sweet on his.

When they broke apart, Hermione's face was flushed a lovely shade of red, and Draco grinned.

"I should have known," he said, pushing a wayward strand of hair behind Hermione's ear. "How long have you had this planned?"

"Since you said the only way your father would consent to us being together was if the Fates themselves insisted on it," Hermione said promptly. She smiled at him. "I couldn't manage to get in touch with the Fates, but if I could have, I think they'd approve."

"And these are what? Potter and Weasley?" Draco turned to the unicorns, who had moved to stand together and were definitely snickering at him. Definitely snickering. "I thought I was going mad, thinking my unicorn deliberately running into things."

"Harry was supposed to behave," Hermione said reprovingly, shooting a sharp look at the golden unicorn, who looked unrepentant. "Ron had a harder time of it, I think, being so close to his family, but he managed it masterfully." The silver unicorn preened for a moment, before nudging the golden unicorn, and the two began a race around the field as Hermione turned back to Draco.

"The transfiguration wears off in another two days, at the end of break," Hermione said. "I thought it'd be more dramatic if we rode back together on both of them, holding hands. You know, to present a united front to the press? We could ride into Hogsmede – I think that'd be dramatic, don't you?"

Draco laughed. "Whatever you want, Hermione." He bent to kiss her again briefly, before pulling back to see her smile. "How did you manage to convince them?" he asked. "I remember you telling me when you swore them to secrecy that they were okay with us seeing each other, but giving you over to me to get married is a fairly different thing."

Hermione waved her hand carelessly, waving away his concerns. "Once I'd found the legend of the unicorns, they were all for it. It was a way to turn public opinion decidedly in our favor to win the war, and Harry knew all the help he could get would help for the coming Final Battle. Ron instantly understood the strategy – he knew how much traditional purebloods rely on magical legend."

She shrugged, then smiled up at him. "The only chance we were taking was you, really. We knew your father would make a fuss over the whole thing – he did, didn't he?" Draco nodded, and she continued on. "-And the only other thing we were worried about was that you'd refuse to get on the unicorn at the end."

Draco laughed again. "I considered it," he said, impish. "But I figured it would've been impolite. The least I could have done would be to turn whatever horrid girl it was in person. After all, it wouldn't have been her fault the love of my life wasn't a pureblood."

Hermione grinned at him, and he grinned back.

"We have the whole night to ourselves," Hermione said, taking his hand. "Traditionally, the Spring's Chosen spend it doing the Spring's Bonding Wedding Ritual, so they can both show the Bonding's markings when they return to the people."

"Well, we've already done that," Draco said, pushing back her sleeve to kiss the winding vines curling around her wrist, the year-old marks still vivid as ever on her flesh. "So what shall we spend our time doing, then?"

Hermione laughed, and threw her arms around him again, and Draco pulled her to him, still giddy with the knowledge that she was really and truly his. She pulled back a moment to smile at him.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," she said, before leaning in to kiss him with everything she had.

As Draco kissed her back, winding a hand through her hair, he briefly spared a thought for the heart attack his father would surely have when finding out just who his fated bride was to be.

Not that Draco cared. His father's terror was the dead winter, now far in his past, and Draco couldn't wait to celebrate his Spring with Hermione.