A/N – Well, I saw that this fic got added to story alert lists, so, I guess that I should continue. Thank you for your support and curiosity readers!
Many thanks to Jill and Melissa. To you both: Three person Apples-to-Apples is fun in so many ways! I love you with all my heart.
I started writing this chapter in my mother's seventh grade social studies classroom, while her students were blathering and yelling and carrying on with the general loudness that comes along with being a middle school student learning about the wonders of Pre-Renaissance Europe.
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4:20 am.
I haven't slept yet, and I don't think I'll be able to. I've been thinking about how in a few weeks, I'll be able to rectify the problem I caused. 'Everything will be as it should have been.'
I didn't expect Hermione to sleep with me last night, and I wasn't surprised when she didn't. I was more than happy to have the house elves fix up a room for her and Hugo (I had freed the elves after the war, but for some reason or another they had all stayed. Rose decided that she would sleep in the sitting room, with the books.
"You can take the books with you to bed, you know?"
"But then I would have to decide what I wanted to read now! And there are too many!"
She had made an excellent argument, that both Hermione and I understood, so neither of us made a fuss about it.
The twins had wandered away earlier in the evening, when Hermione and I looked for them, we found them in my old bedroom, already asleep.
"Thank you for letting us stay here Draco." Said Hermione, as she pulled the blanket up on the boys' shoulders.
I put my arm around her, "It's the least I could do…considering."
"Of course. But, this is wonderful."
"Are you going to leave him, for good?" The words were out of my mouth before I had adequate enough time to actually think about them. I looked at her face, and watched as the thoughts moved across it. She seemed to wrestle with an answer; I waited a few moments and hugged her tight.
Opening my mouth say, "I understand." She answered "Yes. I want to divorce him."
"Excellent." I said, "Then, we will go to the Ministry, first thing, in the morning. Sound good?"
"Sounds great." She flashed me a smile, and we lingered for a moment before both heading to separate beds.
Which brings us to now: me, lying in bed, debating on whether to get up and possibly make breakfast, or try for the fortieth time to go to sleep.
I closed my eyes, and squeezed them tight trying to will myself to sleep. I stayed that way for about five minutes, when I felt something tugging at the sheets and then something moving across the bed. Opening one eye I saw an out of focus pair of dark brown ones staring back at me. Opening my other eye, I noticed that they belonged to Hugo. He was just sitting there. Staring. "Good morning, Hugo. You're up a bit early aren't you?"
"…" He offered a small shrug.
"Is your mother up?"
"…" Again he shrugged.
"Well, then...let us go see!" As I picked the small boy up I wondered if he had said anything since their arrival at the Manor. Babies usually start making noises and talking at about eight months, right? I think I read that somewhere. Didn't Hermione say that Hugo was eighteen months old? I headed down the corridor to the room he and his mother had slept in, still wondering.
I was about to push the door open when is was yanked open by an extremely frizzy-headed Hermione, whose wide eyes immediately flicked to Hugo. She took him and about to cry as she said, "Hugo, my baby? Where were you? I woke up just now and you were gone! I was worried that the house might've eaten you! Or that your father had stolen you away in the night!" I refrained from pointing out that Malfoy Manor does not 'eat' people, and that the wards surrounding it would most definitely keep out Ron Weasley. Instead, I wanted to ask about Hugo, "Out of curiosity, what was Hugo's first word?" As I feared, Hermione became quite still.
"He didn't have one...he's mute" she said quietly. "The doctors couldn't do anything for the fever he had right after birth, they also told me that there is a great possibility that he might be a squib, but we won't be able to tell until he's Rose's age, or so." Hermione sniffed back the tears that threatened to fall, and in an attempt to change the subject she asked what time it was.
I looked down at my watch.
4:50 am
"It's too early to be worried about husband trespassing into baby eating houses." I reassuringly hugged her and told her to get a few more hours of sleep before we head out to the Ministry to get started on her divorce, which I reckoned shouldn't take more than...
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"TWO AND A HALF MONTHS?!?!" Hermione was furious. I was too to be honest. I assumed about two weeks to be normal maybe a month, the Ministry does everything else that quickly.
"Yes Mrs. Weasley. Divorce is a very delicate process, you see." According to the name on the door the man was "Mr D. C. Sarisson—Head of Magical Marriges, Annulments, and Other Sundry Errands." He was a rather sort and squate older gentleman, who seemed to cover up the fact that he was balding with an off-colored toupee that was much to large for his head.
"A delicate matter?" Hermione sat with her arms folded. She wasn't going to put up with this man's shit, if indeed that's what it was. I wasn't so sure he was joking.
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. A delicate matter. You see, first you and your husband must fill out this paper work." He produced a stack of parchments about a foot high. "Then once you have returned that, it must be sent off to the Processing Department, where a team of skilled professionals will go over each document and validate the...well...validity of each statement. That takes about two to three weeks depending on how honest you were." Mr. Sarisson began writing on a small calendar, indicating where the major events were with huge circles. "Then! Copies of the paperwork must be made and sent to each member of the Magical Divorce Council. This also takes about two weeks. Once that has been completed you and Mr. Weasley will be summoned to appear before the Council to present your arguments. Friends and family will also be summoned to giver their sides of the story. And depending on how complex and confusing the situation is, the Council may have a decision within another two weeks or so. But! Even if the Council does make a decision, it must be approved by the Minister of Magic, and well....you know how that goes. So assuming that you and your husband are both totally honest, that everyone in the Processing Department is healthy, that no one on the Council drops dead at any given moment, and that the Minister gets back from his holiday on time, I reckon you'll be divorced by...July 22 at the earliest!"
He handed the small calendar with his calculations on it to me, as well as the foot high load of parchments. I feebly managed to get Hermione standing and walking towards the door, when I turned back around and asked, "What other sundry errands are you in charge of?"
"Why, Mr. Malfoy. I am in charge of getting a tin of meat for the cat."
"The Ministry has a cat?"
"Of course it does." He beamed at this, as though it were relevant and important.
"Huh. Imagine that." And I closed the door.
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End Ch. 3
A/N—I'm not very pleased with this chapter, because not much happens. I apologize for this. I do encourage you to write me reviews. Please, please, please! Reviews are not only entertaining, they are also helpful to the writer!
itou