When Pansy got to the bus stop, to start her shopping trip, she found there were two men standing there. They were postal workers, waiting for a bus back to the depot after finishing their deliveries, but she didn't know that so decided to walk. At the food shop she hesitated and then carried on towards the town centre. She had to know what had happened to Mike.

Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a hope she hadn't wiped his memory completely and they would be able to carry on as before. Even if he didn't know her, he'd fancied her enough to ask her out once, so maybe they could start again. This time, she'd tell him about herself sooner, and not be so worried about where they were. She wanted him back, she wanted it to be like it was when there was something in her life to look forward to, somebody who cared for her.

When she got to the coffee shop she looked through the window; he was there! He seemed well enough, so she knew she hadn't hurt him. He was serving a customer as Pansy went in, a girl about the same age as her. He was just setting down a cup of coffee and...

'...some biscuits, compliments of the house.'

'Thank you,' said the girl, giving him a shy smile.

'I've not seen you around here before, have I?'

'No. I've got a place at the Uni, starting in September. I thought I'd get myself orientated before I move into Halls. It's all a bit new to me.'

'Yeah? I'm there as well! I start my finals in September; I'm doing English.'

'That's the course I'm on!'

'Really?' Mike looked almost nostalgic. 'I remember when I started, talk about an innocent abroad! I didn't know anyone or anything! Look, if you want, I'll give you my number. If you have any questions, just give me a call.'

'That's so kind of you! I'm not even sure I can remember where the Halls are!'

There was a slight pause. 'I finish my shift at two. If you wanted I could give you the Grand Tour. You know, show you where things are.'

'Would you mind?'

'It'd be my pleasure! Like I said, I remember what it was like to be a fresher a long way from home. Now, I must get on. See you later!' He turned to Pansy. 'Hi! Table for one?'

Pansy steadied herself. She'd done her job properly, it had been a successful obviation. 'I've just seen the clock; I'm running later than I thought. Maybe another day.'

'No problem.'

Pansy looked at him, for what she knew would be the last time. 'Goodbye.'

'Bye!' He turned back to the girl. 'I'll get you my number.'

Pansy's sight was blurring as she left the shop and she almost ran to the park where they had enjoyed their picnic just a few short weeks ago. She found the spot where they had sat and dropped to the ground, ignoring the tears running down her nose and dripping onto the grass.

She needed something to cling to, but all she had was that Mike would be happy. He'd met somebody else, a girl from his world, who already knew what a phone number was, and could talk to him about his studies and helicopters. They had a common ground because she wasn't an alien creature who didn't belong here. Mike would be happy...

Once the tears had subsided and Pansy could cry no more she slowly stood and took some deep breaths. She would buy the shopping they needed and then go home to start her life over – once more.

-o0o-

'Mother? What shall we do today?'

Narcissa looked up from her ledgers. 'I don't know, I'm busy. What do you want to do?'

'When that girl was here she watched me flying on my broom. Do you want to watch me? Where is my Nimbus? Is it still at the school? You could ask them when you write to them. Have you written yet?'

'No. No, I haven't. I've got things to do today, but you can fly if you want to.'

'Aren't you going to watch me?'

'I said I'm busy,' Narcissa snapped and Draco flinched. 'Go fly your broom,' she said, in a gentler tone, 'and I'll call you when lunch is ready. Then we can decide what we'll do this afternoon, when I've finished my work in here.'

Narcissa watch him go, his shoulders hunched and head drooping, and threw her quill down in frustration. There simply weren't enough hours in the day to do everything needed to do, and she needed to do everything. There had always been a clear division of labour between herself and Lucius; he ran the "business" and she ran the house. Now she had to do everything. Lucius had delegated very little, so nothing was done unless it was first checked "up the Mansion". Nothing could be ordered without her say so, no bills could be paid, Dinky would not cook without first clearing the menu...it went on and on. Dinky could, however, be relied on to not know where the brandy decanter had got to. She had even suggested, once, that it might be magical and had apparated somewhere.

What made it even worse, and she hated herself for even thinking it, was that Draco was only adding to her problems. In normal events he would have been starting to take on some tasks now he was of age, in preparation for inheriting the estate one day, rather than adding to her burden. He would begin by accompany his father to meetings, learning what was going on, taking over more and more as his competence increased. Instead, he was demanding time Narcissa didn't have. There wasn't even the prospect of sending back to school for three months at a stretch, either.

With a sigh, Narcissa picked up her quill. 'This won't buy the baby a bonnet,' she said to herself, as she reached for the next item from her pile of business correspondence.

They sat at lunch in a strained atmosphere, Draco picking at his food and not talking to her. Narcissa put her fork down. 'Shall we visit your father this afternoon?'

Draco looked up, his face brightening. 'At St Mungo's? Is he getting better?'

Narcissa chose her words carefully. 'He still isn't well, but I think you visiting him may help. I also want you to speak to one of the healers.'

'Why? I'm not ill.'

'No, but perhaps they can tell you how you can help him,' she lied. She wanted to take up the offer of having Draco assessed.

Draco nodded. 'I helped him when we shared a dormitory at school. He wasn't well there, you know. I had to help him eat his food.'

'I know, and you did very well. I'm sorry I shouted at you this morning, but I had a lot of work to do.'

'I don't mind.'

-o0o-

Lucius was the same, when the arrived at the hospital. He still lay in the bed, completely unresponsive. The Healers told her he could swallow food unaided, but not be relied upon to chew it for himself. He was mostly being fed on soup and porridge and it showed in his face, which was becoming thinner.

Draco sat by the bedside, holding his father's hand and talking to him in a far more natural tone than Narcissa could manage. He didn't seem to care that he wasn't being listened to, but perhaps he had got used to that in Azkaban.

Narcissa left him to it whilst she searched out the Healer she had seen on her previous visit and he took her into his office.

'Is my husband going to die?' she asked.

The Healer took his time before answering. 'He is taking nutriments, we are turning him on a regular basis so that he does not get bedsores, and are sitting him up in order to avoid congestion affecting his lungs. We are keeping him alive.'

'How long for? When do you give up?'

'We will never give up on a patient, unless they instruct us to do so and he is not capable of that.'

Narcissa leant forward, putting her hands over her eyes as if trying to shut out the world. 'He's not capable of doing anything, is he? He used to be so strong, so...certain of his place in the world, and now...'

She took the tissue that the Healer offered her and wiped her eyes. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be. Tell me about now. What are you feeling?'

'I never realised how much I cared about him. I never knew how much I needed him, how much I...I don't know...'

'Love him?'

'Perhaps. I've never said that to him, not in over twenty years. I've never said "I love you". It's not the sort of thing one does, is it?'

'I wouldn't know. Each relationship is as individual as the people in it. It would do no harm to say it to him, if that is how you feel. Sit with your husband, whilst I talk to your son.'

Narcissa went back to Lucius's room and told Draco the Healer wanted to speak to him. He didn't ask why, but Narcissa watched his retreating back with a growing sense of dread. What he he ended up in here as well? She didn't think she could survive losing both her husband and son. What would be the point surviving that, anyway? It would confirm her final failure as both a wife and a mother, the only reasons she existed.

She sat in the chair, taking Lucius's hand. It felt cold and flabby, like meat on a slab. She wondered how a body could survive without a functioning brain. Or maybe it was still working, but buried so deeply she could see no sign of it. If it was there then perhaps, one day, she could reach it.

'I don't know if you can hear me, Lucius, but I'm here, sat next to you and holding your hand. I know you're still in there, somewhere. I suppose one never realises what one has until it's gone, and I miss you. I never knew I loved you, and I hope I'll be able to tell you that one day, when you come back to me. I'm trying to run the house and look after Draco, but it's all so very hard. Pansy's helping me sell things, we have to do that I'm afraid. Money's getting very tight.'

Narcissa found it comforting to talk to Lucius, to finally unburden herself of her problems. What surprised her the most, although it shouldn't have done, was that she could hear him answering her. He wasn't, of course, but she knew him so well that she knew what he would have said if he had been speaking to her.

Draco eventually rejoined her and she prepared to get them both home. She told Lucius that she would come again soon, and kissed him. Draco shook his father's hand and said that he, too, would be back.

As they left the hospital, Narcissa asked Draco what the Healer had said to him.

'He was very odd,' said Draco. 'He kept asking me when my birthday was, and how old I was.'

'I see. What did you say?'

'I told him it was the 5th of June.'

'That's right, and what did you say when he asked you how old you were?'

Draco fell silent and started chewing his lip. 'It's the strangest thing, but I can't remember how old I am. He asked me if I'd taken my OWLs yet, so I told him I hadn't.' He stopped walking and looked at his mother. 'I haven't, have I?'

'No, not yet. How many years is it before you do?' she asked, in a level voice.

'I think it might be two.' He nodded, confirming it to himself. 'Yes. I started my options last year, so there are two years to go. Where shall I take them?' he suddenly asked. 'I don't want to go back to Hogwarts if they're going to put me in that horrible dorm again.'

'We'll have to see,' Narcissa replied. 'Now, we must get along if we're to be home before dinner is ready.'

'Aren't we going to Diagon Alley first?'

'Not today. Perhaps another time.'

Draco was silent for the rest of the journey, and she knew it was because he was disappointed, but she couldn't bring herself to expose him to the opprobrium he may face in public, especially as he wouldn't know why.

Narcissa decided she would have to arrange to speak to the Healer on their next visit, she should have done it today perhaps, to see what his prognosis was. Would Draco have to mature all over again, having just been set back a few years, or was she fated to be the mother of a fourteen year old forever?