Disclaimer: All characters of this story do not belong to me. All credit goes to the queen herself, JK Rowling.
Warnings: This is a Dramione fanfic. With Romione as well. Please don't hate me if you support/hate one or the other.
CHAPTER EIGHT: St. Mungo's
The Weasley household was so crowded with guests that Molly had resorted to making the rash decision to eat all meals outside by the garden. No one was too pleased with this, except Hagrid, who was delighted to find out that his head no longer had to hit the ceiling of the Burrow while they ate.
When Ron and Hermione stepped outside, small droplets of rain already bounced onto their foreheads.
"A storm's coming," Hermione said to Ron, gesturing at the large grey cloud coming toward the Burrow.
"Blimey," Ron said slowly, as if he had a massive headache. "Mum's gone mad."
Hermione laughed as the two approached the long table.
"Ah, the newlyweds!" Molly exclaimed in their direction. She ran over to them and nearly pushed them into their seats.
Everyone around the table, although looking miserable because of the impending weather ahead of them, clapped at the couple's arrival.
"Oh thank you," Hermione said modestly as the two took their seats.
As everyone ate, they discussed her and Ron's possible plans for the future. Mostly Ron's.
"I presume Ron will work at the ministry," Percy said eloquently as he took a bite of his toast. "There are new positions for the Department of Mysteries."
"I doubt that he'll turn into a ministry bloke like you, Perce!" George laughed. "He's gonna continue his work with me at the shop –"
"Actually, I thought that 'e would want to travel," Fleur chimed in. "Possibly around ze world with 'is wife? I would 'ave done that with Bill, but the war –"
Hermione tuned out the conversation. Instead, she bit into her toast and looked up to find Ginny Weasley staring at her –
Apparently Ginny hadn't noticed, but Harry, who sat by her side, did. He nudged Ginny, who broke out of her daze and proceeded to reach for a biscuit at the other end of the table.
Hermione gave a look at Harry, who instantly turned away.
She finished what was left of her toast, and decided to just let the odd moment pass over her head.
Draco landed just outside of St. Mungo's. He hadn't been here in ages, ever since the aftermath of the war. He looked up, finding the tall hospital rather intimidating.
He stepped inside the sliding double doors. He was greeted by an unfamiliar looking woman, who sat at the welcoming desk.
"Welcome, Mister Malfoy," she said warmly. "I assume that you are here to visit your Great-Uncle Brutus? Thirty-fourth floor, down the hall labeled 'Eternally Insane.'"
Draco shook his head rapidly. The last time he ever visited his Great-Uncle Brutus was when he was nearly forced to by his father…
"I'm here on behalf of my wife," he stated. "She spoke to a doctor yesterday, regarding her pregnancy."
"Ah yes, Astoria Malfoy? I should have known," she said, mentally punishing herself for not making the relation.
She tapped at her muggle computer, and almost instantly, a paper bird whizzed by Draco's head and into her palm. She unfolded the odd note and read it quickly.
"Yesterday evening, Astoria Malfoy had an appointment with Doctor Geraldine Whitley," she read.
"Great," Draco nodded. "Is Doctor Whitley available at this present moment?"
The routine replayed again. She tapped at her computer, and another paper bird flew past Draco and into her hand.
"Yes, she is located on the seventeenth floor, office room number sixty-three."
"Thank you," Draco said, and he turned around and walked toward the elevators.
He reached room sixty-three. It was a large wooden door, engraved with the words, "Geraldine Whitley: Specialist in Complications of Magical Births."
He knocked sharply on the wood, and the door opened instantly.
"Ah, husband of Astoria Malfoy?" The lady inside said. She had bushy hair and thick, round glasses. She almost reminded Draco of his Divination teacher at Hogwarts, Professor Trelawney. "I expected that you would come sooner or later. Come, sit down, have some tea and biscuits."
Draco entered the office, rather hesitantly. It was decorated rather unwelcomingly: the walls were painted a dreary dark shade of gray, and the black window curtains were pulled shut, making the few tiny candles on her desk the only light source.
He took a seat in a wooden chair and denied her offering of a biscuit.
"I would like to discuss the matters of my wife and my baby," Draco began. "I would like to know any treatments that Astoria must undergo in order for both her and the child to survive."
Geraldine looked at him solemnly. "Well, Mister Malfoy, I'm afraid that I cannot confide in you the type of treatments that we have. They are strictly protected by the ministry."
"My wife works for the ministry –" he nearly shouted, but he was cut off.
"There are many complications that are included with the treatments," Geraldine continued, disregarding Draco. "Only a handful of witches have undergone and survived the procedure, and I find it best for you to consult with those witches before you make a rash decision to make your wife go through this process."
Draco stared at her, speechless.
"You see," Geraldine went on. "It's an extremely painful procedure. Not physical pain, it is entirely mental. Some women have been landed in the wing of the Eternally Insane. Others have died in childbirth. Only the women with the strongest mental ability will be able to survive this treatment."
"I don't understand," Draco said, perplexed.
"I'm saying that only the happiest of women would be able to undergo the procedure and survive." Geraldine said. "If you follow my advice and speak to a woman who has survived the process, you will understand."
He nodded. "All right. Would you be able to give me the names of some of those women?"
Geraldine stood up and strode over to the filing cabinet at the far end of her office. She went through it and picked out a folder. She walked back to her desk and opened it.
She adjusted her glasses and read out the names. "There is Estella Cormig, of New Zealand."
Draco shook his head. New Zealand was entirely too far away. He couldn't leave Astoria alone at home for so long.
"Madame Malkin –"
"Of Diagon Alley?" Draco interrupted.
"No," Geraldine said blatantly. "She has moved with her husband to Albania."
Draco shook his head once again. "Is there anyone in this country?"
Geraldine looked at him, slightly annoyed. She flipped through the pages.
"Ah, here we go. Molly Weasley. Complication with second child: Charlie Weasley."
A smile etched its way onto Draco's face. He knew exactly the woman whom he was to consult.
o0o0o0o0o0o, what will happen?
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Please Note: My field hockey preseason begins tomorrow, which means I may not be updating as fast as I have been (I know I've been just flying by with my chapter additions). But I can assure you that I will still update once a day! I just can't guarantee any more than that. But if I can update a second or third time, I'll definitely try!
Thanks for all the support! x
