Warnings: NC-17 and some drama

"You've got your lanyard on?" Neville shot Harry a boyish grin while his fingers, crusted with soil, gripped tightly the spade he held between his legs.

Harry nodded and tilted down his chin, making a perfunctory visual inspection of his lower body. Then he looked at Neville, ticking off with his fingers. "Lanyard on, the slip line is secure, and I've checked the tree for cankers, nests of wild animals, and also how much it leans."

Harry shook his head, recalling how Neville had drilled these rules into him just before they began their first tree care operation. He smiled wryly at the recollection of Neville's handsome face scrunched up in concentration which reflected his utter thoroughness when handling the realm of plants.

It had paid off handsomely, though. Magical Tree Care, the company he and Neville started, had thrived attending to the needs of the magical community. It had even expanded to take care of certain Muggle woods.

After all, spells could be very helpful in reaching difficult trees.

"Good. We have to use the smallest amount of magic here so the healing potion works." Neville nodded in satisfaction, taking a deep breath. The scent of the fresh loam, mixed with the wildflowers which sprouted near the trunk of the large oak in Hatfield Forest filled him with peace, bringing to his mind the memory of blissful days spent in the greenhouses at Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, Harry stepped towards the old oak and started his ascent, the climbing spurs on his boots thudding softly against the rough bark of the tree as he pulled himself up towards the crotch. It stood 15 feet above the ground.

Having reached his goal, he attached a secure line to his belt to anchor himself and raised his hand, indicating to his partner below that he was safe. Harry patted the pockets of his safety vest and fished out the potions vial. Then he nudged up the leather strap on his chin which secured the gaudy silver helmet, wanting to relieve the itching.

His gaze slid down towards the tall grass below, and Harry sighed while he basked in the peace of the forest, the afternoon sun limning the tree crowns in a golden haze which felt so thick he was tempted to touch it. It brought to his mind the endless forests he had crossed in the company of Hermione and Ron during the hunt for the Horcruxes.

This time he didn't have to face the end of the world if he failed in his endeavors.

Harry opened the vial and upended it, directing the thick liquid towards the ugly scar which marred the symmetry of the old bark in the tree. The pungent scent of the potion wafted up the air to his nostrils and Harry shivered, for it reminded him of Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy provided them with the special potions they sometimes needed to heal infections in incurable trees, like this old oak.

Harry put away the empty vial and from the pocket of his vest he took out a small piece of cloth which he secured against the scar. Then he leaned down to pat the old tree in farewell before he made his descent.

Having reached the ground, he was too busy untangling the lines to notice someone approaching. It was Neville's soft greeting that made him turn around.

"Malfoy, what brings you here?"

"Longbottom, Harry." Draco nodded curtly at them, unaware of the shudder that ran the length of Harry's body when he heard his name coming from Malfoy's pouty lips. Glancing at the silver mop of hair which shined in the slant of the late afternoon, Harry couldn't help but notice Draco's downcast disposition. The Slytherin's eyes were puffy and his skin had a grayish shade as if he had spent several nights without sleeping.

"If you bring the Antifungal potion, you should've just left it at the office with Luna," Neville pointed out, the corners of his lips lifting up in a smile at the mention of his girlfriend.

"It isn't that," Draco said, tilting down his chin to stare at the ground. "I… need your help."

Harry was puzzled by Draco's words. He cocked an eyebrow at the forest surrounding them. "Something wrong with the woods around your Manor you want us to fix?"

Draco sighed tiredly, raising his gaze to shoot an imploring look at the wizards. "It's more important than that, I'm afraid." He raised his chin to gaze at the heavy bulk of the oak in front of them as if to draw strength from it, and then the words just rushed out of his mouth. "Way more important. You see, Mother is dying."

oOoOo

Draco walked along the lonely path that meandered through the grove beyond the Manor gardens, his black cloak contrasting sharply with the foliage of the trees.

Harry walked a few steps behind him, Neville by his side.

Neville touched the rough bark of a tree while he studied the grove intently. His keen gaze noted the sickly yellow leaves, the way the branches drooped down disconsolately, some trees tilting dangerously as if a giant had leaned on them.

He grabbed Harry's elbow and then cocked his chin at a pine tree whose foliage was almost translucent.

Harry shuddered, his eyes leaving Malfoy's slim figure to take in what Neville was pointing out.

"Something is indeed wrong with this grove," Harry said in a loud voice.

Draco stopped and turned towards them, his hands stuck in the pockets of his cloak. "Now that you've seen the extent of the damage," he said slowly. "Can you fix it?"

"You're asking something that is nearly impossible." Neville pointed out. "We can certainly try to save some trees, but a whole grove? That's a tall business."

Harry had been trying to puzzle out the meaning of Draco's cryptic words back in Hatfield Forest, so it was him who cut to the chase. "I just don't understand what this has to do with your mother."

Draco nodded tiredly. "It's something I wasn't aware of, until Father broke down and finally told me some family secrets."

Neville crouched near the trunk of a pine tree and ran his hands through the mulch, scooping a handful which he raised, feeling its texture against his calloused fingers. "Seems to be all right," he said. "I'll have to do more analyses, but the problem doesn't seem to be the soil."

"That's good to know, Longbottom." Draco nodded.

"And what about your family secrets?" Harry prodded, mentally cataloguing the equipment they would need to try to salvage the more important trees.

"Turns out there is magical blood in the Black family. Centuries ago they mated with a magical creature."

"Was it a Veela?" Harry said, his gaze fixed on Draco's blond hair. It would certainly explain why his hair looked so soft and silky. He yearned to run his fingers through it and trace a path down those pale cheeks and the ivory expanse of Draco's neck.

"No, it was a dryad," Draco said simply. "Through the long generations the magic of the dryad became thin; and yet Father assures me this blood runs strong in Mother. It is the reason the gardens flourish so under her gentle care, and why she finds such solace in walking the length of them."

Harry noted the import of Draco's words and cocked his chin at the trees. "You think her welfare is tied to the health of this grove?"

Draco's eyes widened as he glanced at Harry. The Gryffindor certainly possessed the knack of surprising him with his abilities. He had expected Harry to become an Auror and remain in the spotlight of the Wizarding World, yet Harry led a tranquil life taking care of the trees in the company he founded with Longbottom.

Grey eyes scrutinized Harry's face, his gaze sliding down broad shoulders, highlighted by the jacket he wore, down to his slim hips.

"You haven't answered me," Harry said irritably.

"The grove and Mother have a connection, Harry, but it is way more complex than it appears." Draco hunched down his shoulders, his mood crashing down to the ground at his mother's plight.

He started walking towards the center of the grove, followed a few seconds later by the Gryffindors.

"Mother has always been very protective of me." Draco spoke softly, his voice punctuated by the soft crunching sounds of the leaves under his shoes, the muted chirping of the birds in the distance creating strange echoes in the sick grove which made it seem as if the three wizards were cut off from the world.

He jerked his pointy chin at the trees in front of them. "This was my refuge during the time the Dark Lord lived at the Manor. When things got too heavy in the house – the Death Eaters leering at me, Bellatrix threatening me more than usual – I came here to seek respite. I always found it."

"Reckon that's good." Harry said, his fingers itching to touch Malfoy's shoulders, to try to soothe his obvious anguish. Harry knew through Voldemort's visions how miserable his life had been under the deranged Dark wizard, and if he found some solace in these woods, that made their preservation more worthwhile.

"Of course, it wasn't until later that I puzzled out why this happened." Draco walked slowly, his gaze lost in the distance.

Neville shivered at that, recalling old stories Gramps told him when he was a child. He was reluctant to voice his opinions, though, having noticed the way Harry and Draco appeared to drink each other's words, how they tended to lean towards each other like two stems of a tree that really sprout from the same roots.

"None of the Death Eaters ever followed me here, or Aunt Bellatrix. Not even the Dark Lord."

"Maybe they never considered it to be important," Harry said.

Draco snorted. "The Death Eaters behaved like trolls, they stuck their noses everywhere."

"Why do you think they didn't, then?" Harry raised his arm to pluck a leaf from a branch that drooped particularly low. Running it through his fingers, he noticed the slimy, sick texture before he pocketed it, thinking that Hermione might be able to help them research a cure.

Draco stepped towards Harry and raised his hand, his fingers hovering for a moment over Harry's arm, unsure if Potter would allow the intimate touch. Finally, he laid his hand on Harry's shoulder, the two wizards shivering at the contact.

"Your mother loved you very much, and she was willing to die to protect you," Draco said, his voice breaking at the end. He paused for a while, breathing deeply until his strength returned. "I believe Mother used the same methods through her dryad magic by shielding this grove so no harm could befall me while I dwelled here."

Harry gulped, a hard lump forming in his throat at the anguish reflected in Draco's handsome features.

"By doing so, she entwined her life force with these woods. If they die, so does she." Draco sighed dejectedly. "Do you see why I need your help, Harry?"

Harry raised his arms, leaning towards Draco to wrap him in an awkward hug. Draco sobbed, nestling his chin in the crook of Harry's neck as the dying sun highlighted their black and blond hair, the swaying of the sick branches like a soft sigh around them.

oOoOo

Hermione stared at the leaf she held between her fingers and then a brief smile lit up her face when she saw the healthy glow on Harry's face that came from his outdoors job.

"I've run all sorts of diagnostic charms," she said, her glance sliding towards the shelves of books in her apartment. "But they were inconclusive at best. All they tell me is that the leaf is sick, though no hint of magic was detected, Dark or otherwise. It appears to be just a sick leaf."

"That's not very helpful, is it?" Ron mumbled, squinting at the thick sheaf of parchment upon the desk. He shrugged off the glare Hermione sent his way and picked up his quill. "And I've still got to prepare the bloody reports for the case I'm working on!"

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, fidgeting on the couch. "So, any new theories about the grove?"

"No, Harry." She leaned forward to place the leaf on the table. "I'm convinced the grove is dying because of the Dark magic oozing out of the Manor while Voldemort was there."

"Why is it that the gardens aren't affected, then?" Harry raised his eyebrows at her. "Do you think there was some kind of interaction…"

"Between the Dark magic and the spell Narcissa cast? Sure, I think so." Hermione nodded. "She must have been using the inherent magical qualities of the trees to power the spell. Because it was natural, based on the life already present there, it was undetectable to Voldemort and his minions."

"Cool concept," Ron said, pausing in scribbling his report. "We could use something like this in our Auror work."

Hermione nodded at her boyfriend and then glanced at Harry's worried face. "What about Neville, does he have any theories?"

"He said basically the same things you've just told me; he even got Luna on this case," Harry said. "We're busy trying to salvage the core of the grove."

"Any success, mate?" Ron eyed Harry from below his red fringe.

"Too early to tell," Harry mumbled. "Narcissa hasn't got any better, though."

"That's too bad," Ron said.

"I thought you disliked the Malfoys," Harry said wonderingly.

"Losing your mother must be very hard, Harry," Ron said. "Wouldn't wish that on anyone; besides, Malfoy isn't really that bad."

"You're right, he isn't that bad," Harry said dreamily while Ron exchanged a pointed look with Hermione, who shrugged.

The unresolved sexual tension between Malfoy and Harry was well known to Harry's friends; and Malfoy's too, she supposed.

"Well, I had better go. There are still four trees we have to work on today," Harry said. "Just came by to see if you had new information."

Harry stood up, his knees creaking from seating for too long. He turned to the door at the sound of someone knocking.

"Who is it?" Hermione said.

"It's me," Luna said. "Neville said Harry's here."

"Do come in, Luna." Hermione pointed her wand at the door and with a flick of her wrist, it clicked open.

Luna strolled into the room and plopped down on the couch.

"Any news?" Harry said.

"Just the usual. Neville told me Mrs. Malfoy hasn't improved?" Luna said wonderingly.

"Nope. Draco said it is still a good sign, though. Her health had been deteriorating at a massive rate," Harry said softly.

"But she's not getting any better." Luna raised her eyebrows.

"She isn't. It would seem our work is in vain, but we have got to keep on doing it!" Harry struck the palm of his left hand with his fist.

"I vetted an article for the Quibbler the other day." Luna tilted down her chin, staring at the row of Macadamia nuts that formed her necklace. "It dealt with the rites of the ancient druids."

Harry pricked up his ears at that. Hermione had mentioned the importance of the woods in druid lore.

"It seems to me the Malfoy woods suffered a lot of negative energy in the form of Voldemort's Dark magic," Luna said. "Dark magic has been known to stunt growth, for example, the Glinty Galores…"

"What rites are those?" Hermione said sharply, trying to steer the conversation into a more sensible direction.

"The druids did a lot of fertility rites in the woods." Luna pointed out. "If Draco performs those, the magic imbued in growth and life should serve to dissipate the noxious residue of Dark Magic that cloys the grove."

Harry growled at that, picturing Draco's smooth body as he dared to perform those rites. "So there's lots of shagging I guess. Draco had better not do it with that bint Astoria, or Pansy, or Daphne!"

"Don't worry, mate," Ron said. "Malfoy's bent."

At Harry's gasp, Ron shrugged and mumbled, "Thought you knew, what with the tension and all."

Harry heaved a sigh of relief, but then his brow furrowed in a frown. "So he's going to do it with Blaise or Nott?"

"Nope, according to the article, the druids used virgins for those rites," Luna said.

"Those sluts are not good enough for him!" Harry glared at the door.

When he noticed his friends looking at him with knowing glances, Harry blushed hotly and dashed out of the room, muttering, "See you later."

After Harry left her apartment, Hermione sighed in relief. "This incident has brought forth something good. All those heated glances they shot at each other were making me sick!"

Ron went back to writing his report, mumbling disconsolately, "But with all that tension gone, what will entertain us?"

oOoOo

Harry found Draco in the center of the grove, his blond hair shining in the evening sun.

"Another potion?" Harry pointed at the crystal vial Draco held in his left hand.

"In case your work doesn't pan out." Draco pocketed the vial, his eyes glancing at the withering foliage of the tree.

Harry brushed his hair with his fingers, suddenly unsure about the proposition he was going to make to Draco; but then he noticed Draco's forlorn gaze directed towards the Manor.

Squaring his shoulders, Harry decided to plunge into the situation, as was his wont. "Luna has a very good idea about how to heal the grove." He stepped towards Draco. "It's something he found in the Quibbler."

"Well, let's hear it."

"Aren't you going to say something sarcastic about her?" Harry lifted his eyebrow.

"For your information, it was an oddball comment of Lovegood's that set me on the way to marketing my potions," Draco said with a frown. "So, what does she say?"

"Err… she said that the growth magic involved in a druid ritual should clear up the Dark magic residue from Voldemort."

"Bloody hell, I should've thought of that!" Draco ruffled his hair, glaring at the ground. "Been too busy brewing healing potions to use on the trees, though."

"So you know this ritual?" Harry said, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Depends. There are several that I know of."

"It involves… virgins," Harry said, feeling heat blooming on his face.

"Oh." Draco turned to the direction of the Manor. "It'll be difficult, given my inclinations."

"I know." Harry scuffed his leather boots on the soft loam, and then blurted out, "I'm a virgin!"

"Oh!" Draco averted his gaze, his face turning a bright red that almost matched Harry's. "So you're offering?"

"If you want," mumbled Harry.

Instead of answering, Draco stomped away though, raising his arms to the sky while he called out over his shoulder, "I can't accept, Harry!"

"Wot?" Harry said thickly, and then dashed towards Draco.

"We would make love because we were under obligation," Draco drawled. "I never wanted our first time to be constrained. Wanted it to be special."

Hearing that, Harry tackled Draco and the two fell upon the tall grass. "You git!" Harry growled into Draco's ear. "Our first time? You haven't even asked me out yet!"

Draco poked Harry's chest with his finger. "Because you were unapproachable, that's why. Besides I thought you and Longbottom…"

"Neville is Luna's boyfriend!"

"I was never told!" Draco huffed.

"You saw them kissing several times!" Harry said indignantly.

"How was I to know? You Gryffindors behave inscrutably," Draco growled.

"Pointy git!" Harry said, cradling Draco's head with the palms of his hands as he leaned down to breathe in the Slytherin's woodsy scent.

"Scarhead!" Draco said hoarsely, his fingers gliding over Harry's smooth cheek before he gently took off his glasses and laid them upon the ground.

Harry kissed the pouty lips which felt as soft as he had always imagined, his tongue gliding across the bottom lip asking for entrance.

Draco opened his mouth and Harry pounced, the vial in Draco's cloak poking his chest uncomfortably as his tongue slid inside to entwine against Draco's. The kiss was messy and sloppy and wet, but this time the wetness drove him wild. Harry rubbed his clothed arousal against Draco's bulge, smirking against soft lips at the moan escaping Draco's mouth.

Breathing harshly, Harry straddled Draco's lap, not without teasingly rubbing his ass against the girth which felt enormous under him.

"So this ritual? How does it go?" Harry said.

"Involves making love to a virgin in the woods."

"Any special circumstances?"

Draco averted his gaze to avoid answering the question. The ritual in question required love. He knew he loved Harry; had done so for a long time in fact, but he didn't want to scare Harry away.

"What is it?" Harry asked softly, cupping Draco's cheek and pushing it so he would face him.

"It must involve real feelings. Which is true in this case." Draco took a deep breath. "I want you. I've wanted you for so long."

Harry glanced down at the Slytherin, noting grey eyes darkened by passion. The way Draco handled him, his initial refusal to do it with him because he wanted a special time for them; all this bespoke his deep feelings. Harry shot him a grin, knowing he had to give Draco time to gather the courage to speak about this.

"I know," he said softly.

Harry knew well that serpents are slippery creatures.

"Any special time, like during the full moon?" Harry said, wriggling his bottom against the hard flesh below.

"No time like the present." Draco fished out his wand from his cloak and swished it with a studied, elegant motion.

He conjured a blanket under them, and then their clothes vanished. Harry shivered at the sensation of Draco's arousal rubbing against his own. Glancing down, his mouth watered at the thick, fleshy cock whose tip glistened with the evidence of Draco's desire.

Draco swished his wand anew and Harry squirmed as a cool liquid coated his insides.

"What the hell?" He glared down at Draco.

"Lube."

"Who says I'm gonna bottom?" Harry said indignantly, his treacherous hole clenching reflexively at the thought of being stuffed full.

"The way you're looking at my dick. You can't wait till I fuck your face, can you?" Draco's fingers ghosted over Harry's inner thigh, tracing a path upwards to fondle his balls.

Harry's cock twitched at those words.

Draco's thumb pressed gently against Harry's rump, and then he rubbed his hole, the tip dipping inside to swirl around the rim. "I want to make it good for you; so good that you'll crave more."

"Teaser," Harry said in a wrecked voice, wanting more of Draco inside. His thumb, those elegant fingers, his cock.

Draco's thumb finally breached him. Harry sucked a breath at the stinging sensation. Draco pressed forward until Harry's body swallowed his thumb up to the knuckle while he studied the tanned face above him for any sign of pain. Finding none, Draco withdrew his thumb with a long, corkscrewing glide that had Harry's hips pressing down, chasing the delicious burn of the digit that invaded him.

"You'll be on your hands and knees, begging me to stuff you full of cock." Draco smirked.

Harry wanted to kiss that smirk away, but when he felt two fingers penetrating him, he groaned.

Harry's evident lust nearly drove Draco out of his mind. He wanted nothing more than to throw Harry on the grass and mount him like an animal, but he had to make sure that Harry was stretched enough to enjoy his first time.

Draco hooked his fingers just so, and when Harry whimpered, his cockhead throbbing an angry purple, he knew he had found Harry's prostate. Draco pressed against the small nub repeatedly. The sensations shooting up and down Harry's body made him wanton. Harry slammed down his hips as he fucked Draco's hand.

He groaned in disappointment when Draco's fingers slid out of him, his needy hole clenching around empty air. Then Draco grabbed Harry's hips, guiding him up while Harry leaned forward, his ass rising as Draco grabbed his shaft between the fingers of his other hand.

Harry grunted when the cockhead glanced against his spasming hole. He lowered his hand between his legs, grasping Draco's dick to guide himself. He sank his hips with a sigh, wincing as the thick head breached him.

Draco's hands around his hips held Harry up while he got used to the burn, and then Harry allowed gravity do its job, wiggling his hips as he sank down on the dick, enjoying the feeling of Draco bare, with just a slick of lube between them.

His erection flagged due to the pain of the initial penetration, but Harry doggedly bucked down his hips, his body swallowing more of Draco. The blond stared at the place their bodies met, his lust spiking at the sight of his cock stretching Harry's rim.

Growing tired of Draco's careful handling, Harry finally slammed down his hips, impaling himself completely.

Harry squirmed when Draco's cock rubbed against his prostate, the electrical sensation shooting sparks up and down his body. Chasing the feeling, Harry rose on his haunches, his hamstrings straining with the effort, until Draco was half inside him. Then he closed his eyes and slammed down his hips, groaning as his prostate was stimulated so that sparks flew inside his closed lids.

Harry lifted his ass and then sank down again, faster this time as he sought to enjoy the feeling of Draco's cock rubbing against his sweet spot. The squelching sound as he rode Draco's cock made him blush, his erection jutting proudly as his unloved cock bounced around.

Draco was lost in the blissful feeling of Harry all around him, his tight heat clenching around his dick while Harry rode him. He raised his hands and splayed them on the back of Harry's thighs, holding some of his weight so Harry's legs wouldn't tire out so fast.

Draco groaned when Harry sat flush against his groin; he was completely sheathed inside Harry's welcoming heat. He bucked up his hips, the friction of his shaft against Harry's fluttering walls driving him mad. Draco craned his neck to gaze at the muscular body on top of him, glistening with sweat, and his eyes flicked to his neglected cock. He lifted his hand and wrapped his fingers around the wet dick, fisting it while Harry thrust up and down. Fucking him into oblivion.

Draco's dick randomly jabbed against his prostate, so Harry knew he wouldn't last long. His cock fucked Draco's fist as Harry pushed himself down on the thick girth inside him, his sweaty balls rubbing Draco's abs when he landed on his lap.

He came with a hoarse grunt, his release coating Draco's hand, dripping down from those long fingers and landing on the pale abdomen.

Harry's orgasm caused his walls to clench hard around Draco, and the Slytherin bucked up his hips, thrusting into Harry two more times before he came with a grunt.

Harry squirmed atop Draco due to the strange sensation of the warm liquid coating his insides.

The two wizards shivered in the aftershock of their orgasms, and Draco nudged Harry's hips. Harry took the hint and climbed off Draco, wincing as come dribbled down from his swollen hole to fall on Draco's thighs and balls.

Exhaustion visible upon his tired features, Harry lay himself down on the blanket alongside Draco while the Slytherin picked up his wand and cast a cleaning spell on them. Then he picked up Harry's glasses and gave them back.

"Do you think the ritual worked?" said Harry, nuzzling Draco's shoulder as he put on his glasses.

"Do you see that?" The Slytherin cupped Harry's chin and gently tilted it upward, so the tree beside them swam into his vision. Harry grinned like a madman at the sight that greeted him. The branches of this tree, like many others in the grove, had drooped forlornly, the foliage brown and matted.

Now there were sharp spikes of green at the tips.

"They are budding!" Harry said excitedly. "The promise of new growth!"

Draco looked at Harry through lidded eyes, noting that the green of the buds matched exactly the hue of Harry's eyes. It was a shade he knew well, for he had always longed to see it again.

Every time he took a walk in his mother's grove, he had sent prayers to the gods of yore so that one day at the end of the War, he may see the green of Harry's eyes again.

"Yes, the promise has been fulfilled." Draco ruffled Harry's hair, his eyes filling with tears of joy.

oOoOo

Two months later

Narcissa strode regally through the gardens, her heels clicking against the cobbled stones. The afternoon sun warmed her exquisite features, and her nostrils flared as she inhaled the fragrant scent of her gardenias and roses.

This spring, the garden was a riot of color as her favorite flowers bloomed, sharing their joyful colors and aromas with the world. The breeze gently ruffled her silver hair as she made her way to the end of the garden, her pulse quickening as if reacting to the verdant life that surrounded her.

The corners of her lips lifted up in a fleeting smirk as she remembered the sight that had greeted her when she neared the fountain at the center.

Harry and Draco had been engaged in a heated kiss and some groping, to judge from their clothes in disarray. It had been quite delightful to see their cheeks blooming a fierce red that rivaled her begonias, Narcissa reflected. She should arrange things so as to be able to surprise them in compromising positions more often.

When she woke up from her debilitating disease and Draco stuttered the facts about his relationship a few days later, Narcissa hadn't been surprised. A mother knows best, after all.

With a sigh, she reached the end of the gardens. She glanced back at the neat row of hedges as she took out her wand and transfigured her shoes into more sturdy ones.

Narcissa had always felt that the serenity of her gardens was contagious, soothing her soul in troubled times.

Draco took after her in this regard, she knew. He loved to climb on trees and play around them. As a child, he had always preferred green apples to the regular ones, so she made sure to have plenty of them in stock.

Green was the color he loved the most, but not because it was the color of his Hogwarts House.

Draco loved it because of his dryad heritage, and Harry's eyes, of course.

As Narcissa walked along the meandering path on her grove, her hand would reach out to fleetingly touch the trunks of the trees, needing the reassurance of their presence.

The luxuriant crowns of the trees above her softened the glare of the afternoon sun, dappling the grove in golden and green hues.

The safety she felt walking along these lonely path had made it easy to cast her protection spell upon the grove the day Lucius told her the Dark Lord and his mad entourage would take up residence at the Manor.

She had no difficulty using her innate magic to weave her life force to that of the trees in order to protect her son. There had been no need to reveal this to Draco; Merlin knew the boy was under enough stress to last a lifetime.

Narcissa knew Draco's habits inside and out, and she was aware this grove was his place of refuge. Like mother, like son.

Narcissa basked in the soft breeze that still carried the scent of her gardens as she reached a special spot in the grove. She wondered if her gift would work today. It was another part of her dryad heritage which seldom appeared, only in her moments of greatest joy.

It had manifested the day she married Lucius, and also the day Draco spoke his first word: to Lucius' utter chagrin, it had been 'mommy.'

Narcissa swept her gaze around the grove and made her way to the thick oak that stood at the center of it. She leaned forward and splayed her hand upon the rough bark to greet her old friend, and then she closed her eyes.

She saw ephemeral images that rushed past her, shapes barely recognizable as people, the landscape altering in the blink of an eye. The world as seen through the leaves of a tree.

Fleeting life that was as impermanent as Narcissa's cherished roses, and yet as immortal as the landscape around her. And in between, love and hope took root and bloomed.

THE END