A/N: *gallops up, out of breath and smirking*

*sticks the chapter out, waiting for you to take it*

*begins to cackle evilly as you unfurl the pages and begin to read it*

MWAHAHAHAHA

xx-Kitten.

Tip of My Tongue

By Kittenshift17

Chapter 41

When the picture appeared in the newspaper the day after her visit to the hospital, Hermione wasn't overly surprised. Splashed across the front cover was a picture of her, Malfoy, Aurelian and Scorpius playing dragons in Draco's hospital room. It was innocent enough – a touching family moment captured amid the heart of a terrible tragedy.

She wasn't even angry about it, really. The story was factual, and it covered off on Draco's heroics in rescuing Astoria and Harry, and his action to capture Dolohov. It touched on Astoria's condition, which hadn't worsened but still looked rather grim. It spoke of the ongoing investigation into Dolohov's involvement in it all, going so far as to state that both Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had been arrested for questioning on the matter and were believed to have been harbouring the wanted fugitive since the end of the war. It touched on Harry's condition – which had improved; and the state of the witches still suffering the effects of the virus – which had worsened; and even touched on Hermione's involvement in everything – going so far as to mention that she had been consulting with the Healers and renowned Potioneers to develop a cure for the fairy virus wreaking havoc amongst the wizarding world's pregnant population.

The numbers had been growing by the day, and more than forty witches were now in quarantine within St. Mungo's. Even Ginny's attempts to leave the hospital for the sake of recuperating at home had been nipped in the bud and like all the others, she was cooped up inside and suffering the emotionally unstable symptoms furiously. On Hermione's last visit, Ginny had babbled incessantly about how the Healers were actually her jailors, and how Harry had abandoned her to her prison. Never mind that the poor wizard was unconscious in the bed beside hers.

As she perused the morning paper over her cup of coffee, Hermione read the entire story feeling rather detached. What a terrible mess they'd all gotten themselves into, and for what? An affair come to light featuring a love-child had somehow evolved into a monstrous tale of kidnapping, rape and attempted murder, featuring nefarious plots from scheming wizards bent on keeping their fortune and avoiding the very scandal she was reading all about alongside the rest of the wizarding community. Hermione shook her head to herself, wondering how things had gotten so far off course.

Just a few short weeks ago, it seemed, she was still attempting to conceal Draco's role in Aurelian's conception from him and getting along with her life just fine. Now here she was, featured as either the scheming and jaded former lover turned mistress coming between a power couple; in on the nefarious plot to do away with Astoria so she could have Malfoy all to herself; or simply the magnanimous and kind-hearted witch stepping into shoes she'd refused five years ago while poor Astoria fought for her life. The Prophet even went so far as to suggest that she was just doing the right thing and that, given the uncertainty surrounding viable offspring thanks to the fairy virus, her focus on the children was all the more inspiring. A photograph taken of her dropping the boys off outside the wizarding elementary school just a few days ago had been featured, where Teddy and Aurelian hugged her goodbye and ruffled Scorpius's hair before they both ran into school while Hermione held Scorpius's hand and looked on, smiling.

Considering the last few stories following the tale that featured her had all accused her of being a homewrecker, Hermione was surprised by the change of tune to instead paint her as some sort of Mother Teresa type, simply doing what was best for the children. Then again, a well-meaning mother doing her duty to those she loved was a better conception than to be accused of being the other woman coming between two prominent and respected purebloods and tearing their marriage apart.

She didn't like it on the whole, Hermione decided as she read over the tale that morning about her recent hospital visit, though the photograph that was featured of her with the boys was quite a nice one. Perhaps she would pay them a visit down at the Daily Prophet office. She still hadn't had a chance to confront Rita for publishing the first piece trashing her reputation while they'd been in France, and she might be able to get a copy of this photo from them while she was down there. She wouldn't mind having one for herself that she could place upon the mantel. They didn't have a whole lot of family photos, and as she eyed the picture while sipping her coffee, there could be no denying that this was her family.

Aurelian, her precious son, alongside his half-brother and his father. There was nothing for it. They were a family. A blended, slightly broken, entirely messy family. Hermione frowned, scanning the news article again and noting that this time the story favourably featured her, commenting on her current role as stand-in mother for both Scorpius Malfoy and Teddy Lupin alongside her own son. Rita had gone so far as to write that she was maturely and kindly ensuring that those sweet boys were being well cared for while their parents all fought for their lives. Merlin, the woman stopped just short of calling her a saint today, and Hermione could tell that the strongly worded letter she'd issued the reporter upon her return to England had obviously hit it's mark.

She was still furious for the original story, but looking at it all now with a little additional maturity born perhaps of the injection of caffeine into her system and the clearing of her head following the cure of her viral symptoms, Hermione could concede that there was little else that could've been done. Rita Skeeter, menace though she happened to be, did still have a job to do and this was the sauciest story since the war. Of course she had to put a spin on it for the sake of luring in her 'rabid readers', and Hermione could concede that they had agreed that she would never publish untrue information about her simply for the sake of besmirching her name to sell papers – as she'd done during the Triwizard Tournament playing Harry and Viktor off against each other as her potential suitor.

But this was different. Hermione did have a son with Draco that she'd kept a secret, and she did work with him on a daily basis and she had come into contact with Astoria and Pucey over the years since Aurelian's birth. She was involved in the mess, and she was caring for the children while Draco and Astoria were in the hospital. What was more, Rita wasn't alone in thinking that she might be involved in the entire ordeal more sinisterly than she actually happened to be.

Lying on the counter alongside the paper was a strongly worded 'invitation' from the Ministry, suggesting that the MLE had some 'things they'd like to clear up' where she was concerned. Evidently being ambushed and rushed from the country in the middle of the night – conveniently coinciding with the timing of Astoria's kidnapping – was grounds enough for an arrest warrant. According to that same strongly worded letter, the MLE didn't want to insult her prowess as renowned war heroine by issuing such a warrant for her arrest, but they did have some serious questions to as her whereabouts at the time of the incident, and her involvement in the entire ordeal. Hermione had the feeling they wanted to corroborate what little she knew about Lucius and Narcissa's involvement in it all, and maybe to confirm that Draco had been with her when they initially went to arrest him and found him missing. What she didn't know was whether they planned to use whatever answers she might provide to further indict Draco, Narcissa and Lucius, or to clear their names, so she hadn't made time to stop by there just yet.

With Harry still in the hospital, Hermione wondered who his second in charge might be and how he might be handling all of this. She needed to be getting back to work, soon, too. She'd been cured of the virus and she certainly wasn't pregnant – and thus not at risk, and she needed to get back to the grindstone unless she wanted to start coming up short for all the additional food she was needing to buy to keep three growing young wizards nourished. Rolf had been very good about excusing her leave of absence, given everything that had been going and on and everything that had come to light, and she had a letter from him just yesterday saying that he was keeping all of her creatures alive in her lab for her, but that the sooner she could get back in and get back to normal, the better.

She supposed she would have to make every effort to get down there today, after she got the Aurelian off to school. Narcissa had collected Scorpius yesterday, and Andromeda had taken Teddy for the night to give Hermione the night off from watching all three of the little terrors, so it was just the two of them this morning. It almost felt like old times, she supposed, and it was nice to think that things might all work out in the end. She hadn't been harmed, her son was fine, Rita had retracted some of her vitriol, Draco was recovering, Harry was on the mend, and the cure for the virus was well underway, and she was heading back to work. Things were looking good.

"MUMMY!" Hermione suddenly heard a bellow from upstairs and Hermione jumped so hard that she sloshed her morning cup of tea all down her front.

"Mistress, come quickly!" Della cried from Aurey's bedroom and Hermione leapt to her feet, casting aside the newspaper and her overturned teacup before running for the stairs.

She took them two at a time and raced down the hall, bumping into one of the hall vanities and sending it crashing to the floor. She didn't stop, skidding into the bedroom of her young son out of breath and with her heart in her throat. Della was at Aurey's bedside, already urging the small boy to stand, having stripped as much of his bedding as she could with him still on the bed.

Hermione's eyes widened in horror at the sight of her sweet, precious child when she spotted the cause of the commotion. He had peeled open the buttons on his pyjama shirt to reveal his skin beneath and Hermione's heart began to pound, fear twisting in her gut like a knife.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head and hurrying across the room toward the small boy.

"Mummy, it hurts," Aurey complained, his little voice strained as he scratched desperately at his skin.

"You mustn't scratch, darling," Hermione told him. "I know it's itchy, but you mustn't scratch."

"Mummy…" Aurey whined, tears leaking from his little eyes as he struggled, desperate to continue scratching, desperate to keep clawing at his already bleeding flesh.

Hermione fought against him, refusing to let him.

"Della, run him a bath of oatmeal and calamine," Hermione said.

"Mummy, no!" Aurey cried. "Not a bath. I don't need a bath. I just want to scratch."

"Now, Della. Leave the bedding. It's no use washing it. We'll have to burn it. The bath, quickly. We have to numb the itching before getting him to the hospital. Run the bath and then I want you to cleanse yourself. Destroy the sheets and his pjyamas, alright?"

"Yes, mistress," Della nodded, her huge eyes bigger than ever as she hurried about the tasks she'd been set while Hermione fought with Aurelian to keep him from scratching.

"They're just spots, Mummy," Aurey complained. "Really itchy spots. I don't need a bath. It's fine. No baths. I'll just scratch."

"Della, one of the blue vials from the top of the potions cupboard when the bath is ready, please," Hermione asked, trying to keep her head and trying to remember her training. She knew how to cure this. She knew how to control it.

Everything would be fine. It would be. It had to be.

"They're not just spots," Aurey," Hermione told her son sadly. "See how they're scaly and turning purple?"

Aurey looked down at his skin despite the way he writhed and squirmed violently in her grip, desperate to keep scratching even though he'd already made himself bleed in several spots.

"So?" he whined, fighting her.

"So, they're not just itchy bites, darling," Hermione told her son sadly as Della returned with the potion she'd requested.

"Is the bath ready?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, mistress," Della nodded.

"Aurelian, sweetheart, I want you to drink this. It's a healing potion. It will make it so you won't need to scratch anymore," she told him, releasing his arms to accept the vial of pale blue potion from Della before unstoppering it and handing it to Aurey.

"I'm so itchy, Mummy," Aurey complained again, though he took the potion and gulped it down.

"I know, darling," Hermione said, watching the effects immediately kick in.

Aurey slumped, unconscious on the bed in an instant, his writhing limbs lying still.

"Burn the bedding, Della," Hermione said. "And scour this house from bed-knobs to broomsticks with the strongest cleaning charms you know."

"Yes, mistress," the elf nodded while Hermione gathered Aurelian into her arms and hurried him into the bathroom.

She submerged him in the tub completely, trusting Della to have the temperature perfect and the contents just right. Pulling him up again, she quickly bathed the unconscious boy, rubbing at the spots he'd made bleed and rinsing him completely. When she was satisfied, Hermione fished him out of the water and wrapped him in a towel.

"Della, we'll be at the hospital," Hermione called to the elf, uncaring that she was only in her pyjamas and her housecoat and Aurey only in a towel.

She didn't wait for a reply before turning on the spot and disapparating them both to the hospital. Upon landing she immediately cast a bubble-charm around the two of them to protect the other hospital-goers from the disease.

"Ah, Miss Granger, back again…." The girl on the desk said before noting the state of the two of them and the glowing air pocket around them. "Oh, dear Merlin. Is it…?"

"Yes," Hermione said tightly. "Dragon Pox."

"Galloping gargoyles!" the receptionist cried, before tapping her wand to her throat and casting a sonorous charm. "Paging Healer Whitmore. Paging Healer Cartwright. Paging Healer Abbott. Main Receptionist. Healers Whitmore, Cartwright and Abbott to Main Reception immediately! We have a Code Purple!"

Hermione waited impatiently, not knowing how the hospital was going to handle the virus but at least knowing what she needed to do and the steps she needed to take to keep herself, her son, and everyone else as safe as was possible.

"Is it…?" Healer Abbott appeared, already speaking before he laid eyes on poor Aurelian. "Oh, Merlin... So young. Blast it all! Come. Come this way, Miss Granger. We'll get this sorted out. Have you been exposed long? How long has he been displaying symptoms? What steps have you taken? Good thinking on the air pocket. We need to get the two of your quarantined immediately. You've done the right thing. Now, just let us do what we can to heal both of you, alright."

Hermione let them lead her while she continued carrying her son, his tiny body covered in enormous scaly, purple spots and bleeding in several places. His head lolled against her shoulder and Hermione's heart hammered unevenly in her chest. She was so consumed with following the Healers and making sure that she didn't accidentally bump into anyone else in the corridors as they were rushed to the quarantine ward, she didn't even see Draco coming down the hall from a morning shower with the help of one of the other Healers – his body still weak after the total depletion of his magic.

"Granger?" his voice barely permeated the plague of worries bombarding Hermione's brain.

"Stay back, Mr Malfoy," Healer Abbott demanded, warning him away. "The last thing you need in your condition is exposure to an active case of Dragon Pox, young man."

As she swept past Malfoy while she clutched her ill son, Hermione's eyes briefly lifted and clashed with his grey pair – so like Aurelian's, and abruptly Hermione burst into terrified tears.