I hate cramming three of these together, but Narcissa always struck me as a very January sort of person, and so does Scorpius (at least the way I imagine him)... hahaha and yes, if you were wondering, I think of people in terms of what month they most remind me of. XD

31 January 2006

Narcissa closed her eyes, bringing her hands to rest under her chin. Lucius rubbed her back in small circles. She looked sideways at him. "How can you be so calm?" she asked in a strangled whisper.

He turned a page of the newspaper in his lap. "Because there is nothing I can do to help by worrying."

"You might show a little feeling, this is your grandchild, too," she snapped, standing up from the waiting area sofa and pacing in a circle.

Lucius folded his paper and looked up at her, his expression somewhat apologetic. "I didn't say that I wasn't worried," he told her. "But I believe it was you, Narcissa Malfoy, who told me on a lovely day in June almost twenty-five years ago that this sort of thing takes as long as it takes, and there is no getting around it."

Narcissa paused, frowning at him. "You really remember that?"

One corner of his mouth lifted in her favorite smile. "I remember that day very clearly," he said, holding out one hand. "I think that's the happiest I've ever been with you."

She took his hand, smiling as well, and came to sit down again. "Me, too."

"Personally, I like the little fellow's timing," said Lucius, reaching a hand into his pocket.

"Or lady," Narcissa said. "It could be a girl."

Lucius rolled his eyes, producing a flat velvet box. "Would you like your birthday present, or not?"

"Lucius," she said happily, taking it. "Oh—thank you!" She kissed his cheek.

"I was going to give it to you at dinner," he said, smiling again, "But I'm not certain that's going to happen. Happy birthday, Narcissa."

She opened the box to reveal a beautiful bracelet of pebble-sized garnets. "Oh, Lucius," she gasped. "It's—it's spectacular."

He took it and began fastening it around her wrist. "What better way to mark the birth of our first grandchild?" he asked.

She scoffed. "You couldn't have known that was going to happen today." She leaned in and kissed him. "But thank you."

He nodded. "Now may I read my paper in peace?"

Narcissa elbowed him. "If you must." She took a deep breath. "I just want to hear that she's fine, and the baby's arrived—"

"Potter, please, here for Healer Washburn?"

"Have a seat, the Healer will be with you shortly."

"Thank you."

Lucius's eyes had slid out of focus; he was staring blankly at the wall straight ahead of him, his newspaper forgotten. Narcissa stiffened in her seat and turned slowly to look around at the people who had just arrived in the Maternity Ward waiting area.

It had been about eight years since the last time she had seen Harry Potter—seen him, she thought with a laugh. That was one thing to call it. But right now, his face was not the one that transfixed hers, nor the face of his pregnant wife—a Weasley, she knew—nor even their little boy, about one year old, who squirmed in his father's arms.

She was staring at the other boy—eight years old, if she wasn't mistaken, though he was tall for his age—who was not a Potter at all. This was the Lupin boy, the child of the werewolf and her only niece—her sister's grandson.

He was handsome, very much so, as he giggled with Mrs. Potter, who was allowing him to feel the baby move in her belly. But for the turquoise hair he sported, (was he a Metamorphmagus, then, like his mother?) he looked like a Black, Narcissa realized. Even Bellatrix wouldn't have denied it.

Well, possibly.

Potter had seen Narcissa looking at his family. He nudged his wife's arm, and she looked around, her eyes widening for a moment.

Narcissa felt her cheeks flush, but didn't break her gaze. She was suddenly painfully aware of Lucius, who was pointedly ignoring them. It was so strange—so strange—to see her great-nephew (was that what he was? Merlin's beard…), one of the last few living descendants of the Blacks, in the company of the man whose existence had ended the power of families like that—like hers.

"Mrs. Potter?" A nurse had come to see them, and Narcissa looked away at last. "Healer Washburn will see you now, if you'll follow me."

Potter needed to help his wife to her feet, and she took the older boy's hand. "Come on, Ted," she said, in a curiously loud voice.

Ted, Narcissa thought. He was named after Andromeda's husband, was he? She felt winded, as though she had just run a long distance. She heard a sudden cough and looked up again. Potter was staring at her, his infant son babbling at him in his arms.

Their eyes met for a long moment, and then Potter gave her a nod. He walked away after his wife.

Lucius's hand closed tightly over hers. She could tell that he thought himself supportive, that he believed she felt uncomfortable because of Potter's rudeness in staring back at her. If only he knew, Narcissa thought, lifting a hand to rub her face, not that she would ever dare to tell him. How could she suddenly feel so tired?

"Mother? Father?"

Narcissa looked up at once. Draco looked shocked, white to the lips, but he was visibly thrilled. "Oh, Draco!" She leapt to her feet and threw her arms around his neck.

He pulled back after a moment. "It's a boy," he said, still looking very startled. "And—wow, he can—he can really cry. He's really healthy, everything's great."

Lucius clapped his hands happily. "Congratulations!"

"And Astoria?" Narcissa asked.

"She's completely fine, but she's really tired. She wants you to come and meet him before she falls asleep," he said, taking her hand. "Come on."

Narcissa put a hand over her heart, beaming over her shoulder at Lucius, who smiled back at her. Draco led them down the corridor to one of the private suites. Astoria lay in the bed with a small blue bundle in her arms, smiling in a dazed, exhausted way.

"I hope you don't mind sharing your birthday, Narcissa," she said tiredly, as Draco came around the bed and lifted the baby out of her arms, bringing him to Narcissa. "This is Scorpius."

The little face crinkled, and the baby grunted, sticking one hand out from his blankets as he yawned up at Narcissa and Lucius. And quite suddenly, unexpectedly, tears filled Narcissa's eyes. She held out one finger, and the little hand closed on it.