Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.
Being a Medic was a difficult job. The shifts were demanding and Daphne, one of the few Slytherins on staff, got the worst of them. This time she was working two shifts back-to-back, which might actually be illegal, but she wasn't going to risk her job by protesting. The receptionist who arranged their schedules, Odilia Fowler, seemed to particularly enjoy giving Daphne the worst assignments.
"I can't believe he got sick while I'm pregnant!"
Daphne's smile became even more strained.
"You can't choose when you get sick," she pointed out. "Congratulations, by the way."
The announcement should have been a joyous occasion, but Pansy waved the comment away as if it meant nothing.
"Yes, yes, we're having another little brat, how wonderful." She glared at her son, who looked downright miserable. "Do something about him, won't you?"
Daphne consulted her notes. "It's likely a case of the common cold," she said.
Little Julian's nose had been running ever since he arrived, and Daphne had mopped it up several times for him. He seemed to be barely holding himself up, which was a commendable achievement for a boy who wasn't yet two years old. He reached pleadingly for his mother, who stepped back with a look of disgust. Daphne had to remind herself that she wasn't allowed to slap patients.
"Even an idiot could guess that." Pansy crossed her arms, her lip curling into a sneer. "Do they just pay you to state the obvious?"
Then why did you bring him in? Daphne wanted to demand. Only years of practice kept her from saying it aloud.
"I'll have a Healer review it just in case," she said instead. "If I'm right, you can get a decongestant potion at the apothecary. The Antifrigus Potion can eradicate it completely but we don't recommend it for children."
"I'll determine what's good for my son," snapped Pansy.
Daphne nodded as she pulled out her Alert Key to call for the Healer. She inserted it into the slot by the door and then wrote Healer Prescott, Room 557 on the tablet next to it.
While they waited for the Healer to appear, Daphne turned to Pansy and made small talk. At one time, they'd been roommates. Surely Daphne could stand her for a few more minutes. Stars above, help me, she begged as she plastered another smile on her face.
"When's the baby due?" she asked.
"July," said Pansy. "He was conceived on Samhain."
That was not information Daphne needed to know.
"I'm hoping for another boy," Pansy continued. "Merlin knows how useless girls are. Plus it'd be nice to have a spare in case Julian dies."
She paused.
"He won't die from a cold, right?"
"If his fever has already broken, then it's unlikely," said Daphne.
She felt a minor sense of relief. Even if Pansy sounded callous, this was the first time she'd shown any concern for her son.
"But he could die if he got another one." Pansy frowned. "I really hope this one is a boy, then."
Daphne looked up at the clock. Healer Prescott was certainly taking his time. Unfortunately, this was a common occurrence with her assignments.
"I'm thinking about naming him Severus," said Pansy. "Marcus' family tends to use Roman names and I think it'd be a nice tribute to Professor Snape."
Daphne could list all of the reasons why that was a bad idea. Knowing Pansy wouldn't listen to them, she said instead, "It could be a girl."
Pansy shrugged. "Then Severa. But I have a feeling it'll be a boy."
For the child's sake, Daphne hoped she was right. She feared what Pansy would do with a daughter.
They chatted for a few more minutes. Pansy asked some pointed questions about Draco and Astoria, which Daphne avoided answering. When Healer Prescott finally reached the room, Daphne could have cried. He frowned at her look of gratification, but by the time the visit ended, he evidently understood the reason.
Fortunately Pansy's son was her last patient of the day and she was able to go home at an almost-reasonable hour. She was looking forward to enjoying a nice, long bath - possibly even with bubbles - and then sleeping for at least a week.
Her sister had other ideas.
When Daphne stepped into her flat, it was to find her sister lying on the floor with papers scattered around her. Astoria was staying with her until the lease expired for the flat above the shop. Since she had more regular hours than Daphne, she was supposed to be preparing dinner for them. A glance at the kitchen revealed that hadn't happened yet.
With a sigh, Daphne headed for her bedroom. As she changed into more comfortable clothing, she took a moment to gaze longingly at her wonderful, comfortable bed. Then she squared her shoulders and went to see what Astoria was doing. She picked up one of the papers and read aloud from it.
"'Hello, Anus. I'm Primus Loser Malfoy, but you can call me Loser.'" She glanced from the paper to her sister. "Did a twelve-year-old write this?"
"Two drunk men, actually," said Astoria. "I've tried rewriting that scene. How does this sound?"
She thrust another paper into Daphne's face.
ALBUS: My name is Albus.
SCORPIUS: Hi Scorpius. I mean, I'm Scorpius. You're Albus.
The scene was awkwardly sweet, but Daphne had to wonder about the name choices. She'd heard multiple complaints about Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.
"Wasn't Scorpius the name Draco was insisting on?" she asked.
"I thought it was more realistic," said Astoria. "Not that we'll ever publish it, but it's still very cathartic."
Looking at the page again, Daphne was too scared to ask who Anus was supposed to symbolize. There'd been a lot of children named after Dumbledore, but most of them were a variation: Alba, Percy, Brianna, Wolf… There weren't many people who'd saddle their son with a name like Albus.
Then it occurred to her. There was a family of very staunch Dumbledore-supporters who had a son named Percy. Daphne wouldn't be surprised if they named another child after him.
"Let me guess," she said. "Albus is a Weasley and the most annoying person in the world."
"Something like that," Astoria muttered, and then in a much more offhand tone, she asked, "Anyway, how was your day?"
If this was how Astoria dealt with her frustration, then Daphne wasn't going to stop her. She helped her sister collect the pages as she explained Pansy's visit to the hospital.
"Sounds like the Weaslet as a mother," Astoria snorted.
Daphne's brows lifted. She couldn't see how Astoria would know anything about the Weaslet's parenting style. Still, it said much about the role of Albus in the script; Daphne was now almost certain he was a Weasley.
After making sure her papers were in order, Astoria carefully set them on the table next to the sofa serving as her bed. Daphne had requested a room expansion a few months ago, but unsurprisingly, the Department of Figuration had yet to process it. Until she got another bedroom, her guests were sleeping on the couch.
"Anyway, how does pasta sound?" Astoria asked as she padded into the kitchen.
"Like calories," Daphne replied.
Astoria looked alarmed. "Is calories a disease?"
Sometimes Daphne was very concerned about her fellow wizarding kind.
AN: This one has been knocking around in my head for months. I eventually decided to make Pansy 'Slytherin Ginny.' Two different sides of the same coin, so to speak.
It also required me to open CC, which was a horror unto itself.