Chapter 8: Mudblood Madness
The room was alight with shouts of concern from the healers and utter shrieks from Narcissa Malfoy, who was awake and sitting up in bed, restrained with leather straps that kept her on the bed as she tried to free herself. Lucius appeared to still be unconscious, though his eyes were open and he stared vacantly at the ceiling of the ward. The healers were shouting at each other about how best to calm the shrieking woman while others were once again scuffling with Draco, who was desperately trying to reach his restrained mother.
"Draco!" the filthy, blonde woman in prison robes tied to the bed shrieked, "Where is my son? Draco where are you?"
Hermione could see that her eyes were wide with terror, her motions frantic despite the restraints on her wrists, ankles and thighs. It was clear that though she was screaming for her son, she had no idea where she was or that Draco was in the room. Hermione could tell that she was still suffering some kind of nightmare.
"Someone give her a Calming Draught!" one of the healers shouted over the noise.
Narcissa fought viciously against the pair of healers who tried, choking on the liquid and spitting most of it back up as she thrashed violently.
"Oh for Heaven's sake!" Hermione said, shoving her way into the room past where the healers were restraining Draco as he tried to reach his mother and past the healers who were recoiling in annoyance after having been spat on by the woman.
Hermione snatched up another Calming Draught from the table where they were kept.
"Narcissa!" Hermione said in a loud, sharp voice over the sound of her shrieks. The woman stopped shouting abruptly, her grey eyes fixed upon Hermione and alight with recognition.
"The mudblood girl," Narcissa muttered, reaching her hand out towards Hermione though she didn't get far before the restraints stopped her, "You! Have you seen my son?"
"I have, Narcissa," Hermione told the woman, coming closer until she was within reach, "He asked me to give you this. You need to drink it."
"What is it? What has my Draco given you for me?" Narcissa asked, her voice was rough and cracking from the amount of shrieking she'd been down, hoarse and ravaged.
"He said you would know," Hermione lied quickly, "He said that you would know and that you would drink it so he'd be able to come to find you."
Hermione flinched slightly when the witch snatched the potion out of Hermione's hands, uncorked it and downed the contents quickly. The effects were immediate, her taut body going lax against the pillows of the bed and her eyes losing their manic gleam.
"Let him go," Hermione told the healers who were still loosely holding Draco back. As soon as he was free Draco hurried to his mother's side.
"Mother?" he asked, his voice tight with worry and Hermione could see the concern etched into his face.
"Draco?" Narcissa whispered, turning to meet his gaze.
Hermione watched as tears of relief and happiness welled in Narcissa Malfoy's eyes and leaked down her grimy cheeks as Draco took her hands.
"It's me, Mother. It's alright. We're safe. You and Father are in the hospital. You need to relax, alright?" the blonde boy told his mother, reminding Hermione not of the intimidating wizard he could be when irate but instead of a little boy afraid for his mother.
"My Draco. My son," Narcissa muttered over and over. When she tried to reach for him and couldn't due to her bonds, Hermione waved her wand, releasing her arms and watching on as the witch pulled her son into a crushing embrace.
"How did you do that?" one of the healers who looked like he might be a trainee asked her, stepping close and speaking softly as mother and son were reunited.
"By being someone she recognised," Hermione shrugged her shoulders.
"But she was manic. She shouldn't have recognised you. She was delirious with wanting to see her son, so much so that she didn't realise he was in the room," the healer protested.
"She knew he was here. But he was being restrained and shouting for her in distress. That only fuelled her manic behaviour," Hermione told the young man.
"Then why not just tell us to release him so he could go to her?"
"Because none of you would've listened," Hermione said simply, "Someone needs to see to Lucius too. He's awake."
She watched as the healers, who had all been focusing on the reunion of mother and son, suddenly recalled that there was another patient in the room. Hermione suspected that while Narcissa seemed to have her wits about her enough to recognise faces and to know she was once again in the presence of her son, Lucius was not so fortunate. He seemed catatonic as he lay on the bed staring at the ceiling and oblivious to everything going on around him.
Hermione wondered as she watched him if he would ever be quite right again. She knew the brain was a powerful force to be reckoned with and that if his brain believed it was protecting him by blocking out everything then the healers would have a hard time bringing him out of his current mental slump.
"Draco, what was that mudblood doing conveying things from you to me?" Hermione heard Narcissa ask Draco quietly in the silence that followed as the healers began focusing their attention on Lucius, waving their wands and muttering spells to diagnose his current ailments and begin healing him.
"Don't use that word, Mother," Draco murmured back quietly in admonishment, "The war is over and the Dark Lord is vanquished. Blood mania is over. Granger was helping us because she'd responsible for my being able to get you and Father out of Azkaban."
"What have you done, Draco?" Narcissa asked and Hermione could see that the woman was already beginning to recover now that she had her son back and she was no longer locked in Azkaban.
"The Ministry offered us a deal," Draco murmured to his mother quietly, tucking a lank strand of hair behind her ear when it fell into her face, "In return for your freedom and Father's, and for the sum of fifty thousand Galleons, I must father a child with Hermione Granger."
"And she agreed to that idea?" Narcissa laughed clearly believing it to be a joke.
"They're giving her fifty thousand Galleons and restoring her parent's memories after she modified them to protect them during the war," Draco nodded, "In return, Granger and I have to have a child together. It's a ploy of the Ministry's to encourage more magical births after such losses during the war and to convince others that blood mania can be overcome and forgotten."
"This is not something to jest about Draco," Narcissa said sternly, her face regaining some of its colour beneath the layer of grime as she began to frown in concern.
"It's no jest, Mother. Hermione Granger will be the mother of your first grandchild and the mother of the next Malfoy heir. I've already signed the contract, which is why you've been brought here and will be released to the Manor on house-arrest once you're healed," Draco informed the woman, sitting up a little straighter and eyeing his mother nervously.
"You mean to father a half-blood?" she demanded and Hermione cringed.
"I mean to keep you and Father from losing your minds and you lives in Azkaban. That comes at the price of siring a half-blood child with one of the brightest and most formidable witches currently alive today, Mother. I expect you and Father to accept this and to realise that without this sacrifice made by me and by Granger, you would both rot in Azkaban prison until the day you both died," Draco retorted and Hermione was surprised and mildly flattered that he thought her to be so bright and formidable.
Narcissa pursed her lips for a moment before her piercing eyes scanned the room to land on Hermione once more. Hermione stood proud and undaunted as the soon-to-be grandmother of her child looked her over from head to foot. She didn't speak as her eyes trailed over every inch of Hermione from the array of curls atop her head to the black low-heeled boots adorning her small feet, but Hermione felt the weight of her judgement just the same.
"Need I remind you that the Malfoy name is one that is currently disgraced throughout the wizarding world, both among those who fought against the Dark Lord and those who fought for him? Among the three of us we named every Death Eater and associate who worked for the Dark Lord. Most of the free remaining pureblood families disdain us for our actions and the others openly despise us for landing members of their family in Azkaban. The only people who will even still speak to me are Blaise Zabini and Greg Goyle. There is no hope for recovering any kind of pureblood match and what's more, I don't want one," Draco informed his mother when she continued to eye Hermione with an unreadable expression on her grimy face.
"I beg your pardon?" Narcissa asked of Draco, turning her gaze on him at his words.
"You heard me, Mother," Draco said, "I don't want to wed and bed some pureblood witch to breed another pureblood heir for the sake of blood mania. Look at the mess blood mania landed all of us in. The world is doing away with Blood Mania, with some hefty incentives from the Ministry to do so. The Malfoy family will be among them. That's all there is to it."
Hermione watched the way Narcissa Malfoy eyed her son strangely for several long moments in total silence. She didn't know if it was his mother or Hermione herself that was the most surprised by Draco's pronouncement.
"Is she already pregnant?" Narcissa asked finally and Hermione felt a blush flood across her cheeks, realising that the woman must think that they'd already shagged and perhaps that Draco's change in attitude had something to do with him developing feelings for Hermione.
"No," Draco answered before shooting a semi-amused glance at Hermione, "I'm told there's a window of ovulation that must be utilised for that to occur."
Narcissa Malfoy looked stunned for a few minutes after that, her expression going slack with shock. And then she began to laugh. It began with a little snort of amusement but grew quickly to giggles and then the full-bellied laughter, her head thrown back as she laughed and laughed until tears of mirth ran down her cheeks.
In spite of herself, Hermione began to chuckle along with the woman, wondering idly if she had gone into information overload and become unhinged. Malfoy got up from his perch on the edge of his mother's bed when the healers began jostling him aside so they could diagnose and treat his mother before the Calming Draught wore off. He was smirking a little as he came towards Hermione and she noticed that he looked more cheerful than she'd seen him look in years.
She flinched a little when he stood beside her and took hold of her hand in his again.
"She likes you," he told her in a soft voice, watching as his mother giggled from the bed while the healers set about healing the damage done to her while she'd been in prison.
"You think so?" Hermione asked doubtfully.
"Yes. I can tell," he nodded, still holding her hand.
"How?" Hermione wanted to know, recalling the judgemental eyes the woman had worn when looking at Hermione.
"She didn't start screaming," Malfoy replied, smirking at her crookedly, "Thank you for what you did."
Hermione stared up at him in surprise to hear the expression of gratitude on his lips.
"Not just with getting that Calming Draught into her, or telling me I was being an interfering git. Thank you for signing the contract and helping me get them out of that place," he went on sincerely. Hermione found herself wondering what had befallen Draco Malfoy that had so drastically changed his attitude towards her and towards muggle-borns like her. she knew some of the basics, such as being stuck on Voldemort's team and being shunned by the entire wizarding world in the aftermath of the war, but she suspected there must be much more to it than that. In fact she was beginning to think there might be a lot more to Draco Malfoy than she'd originally suspected too.
He held her hand in silence after that for a long while and Hermione didn't really know how to respond.
"Dare I ask what prompted you to make the decision so quickly when I gave you a week to make it?" he asked finally, glancing down at her.
Hermione bit her lip at the reminder of the fact that Ron had gone and signed his stupid contract before consulting her.
"The decision was taken out of my hands," Hermione answered quietly, "I didn't need to discuss the idea of going through with it or not with Ron. He'd already signed his by the time I got home, believing that I'd signed mine when he saw us holding hands to apparate."
"He lashed out spitefully," Malfoy nodded, looking unsurprised. Hermione nodded too, "Looks like you're stuck with me then, eh?"
Hermione glanced at him sideways for his tone as he said it, sounding mocking and yet chipper at the same time.
"Looks like it," Hermione replied dryly.
"You never answered my question about when this window of ovulation opens?" Malfoy told her seriously, smirking at her and clearly finding amusement in saying it as though her meant window of opportunity.
"Nine days from now," Hermione told him, "You're sure you're fine with me coming to Malfoy Manor for this?"
"I don't much fancy the idea of shagging you into exhaustion with Potter and Weasley in the next room, Granger," he replied, smirking now.
"Right," Hermione nodded, blushing.
"How much liquor do you think you'll need?" he asked her.
"How much have you got?" Hermione asked him, glancing up at his face.
"An entire cellar full of whiskey and another with wines. There's a vineyard on the ground of the Manor too," he replied seriously.
"Probably going to need all of it," Hermione answered seriously, unsure how much liquor it would take for her to be drunk enough to shag him.
"I peg you for a lightweight, we won't need all of it," he grinned, "But I'll have the elves on hand to fetch more if it becomes an issue. I'll open the East Wing fireplace to the floo network so you can get in, shall I?"
"Which one is the East Wing?" Hermione asked, "Last time I didn't get much of a look."
"The East is one you've never been anywhere, Granger. It's my wing. Mother refused to let Aunt Bella, the Dark Lord or anyone but me and her into my wing. She even blockaded it against Father," he informed her, and Hermione suspect that was his way of telling her it was nowhere near the drawing room where she'd been tortured.
"Do you want me to just floo over next Thursday then?" Hermione asked him.
Malfoy nodded, "Bring a bag. You're not leaving until you're pregnant."
"That sounds like a threat," Hermione said, feeling kind of nauseas.
"It is a threat," Draco told her, "You said this window is open for six days and after that it's shut for a month. So you're not leaving my bed until you're pregnant with my son."
"Do you think the healers would mind if I vomited here," Hermione asked, pointing vaguely towards the floor at her feet.
"Probably not, but you'd splatter my shoes and then I'd be annoyed," Malfoy said, looking amused rather than offended.
"Why do you keep referring to this child as your son?" Hermione asked him, noticing that he'd been saying 'son 'every time they spoke of the child they had to make, "There's just as much chance that it'll be a daughter."
"Malfoys always have sons, Granger," he told her seriously, "It's been that way for the past sixteen generations of Malfoys."
"Malfoys always have bratty little purebloods too, but that's going to change," Hermione told him impishly.
"You won't be using the word little in regard to me after next Thursday," Malfoy told her lasciviously and Hermione had to cover her mouth when she gagged, "Did you just gag?"
"I just gagged," Hermione confirmed, laughing a little when he looked a little miffed, "And besides, just because history suggests that we might indeed have a boy does not make it so."
"Either way you're not leaving my bed until you're pregnant," Malfoy told her, "And since we're supposed to share the bed and live together once you are, you might want to pack all your stuff."
"That's not happening," Hermione said, "I'm not moving in with you until we're back at Hogwarts and have no choice."
"I thought you read that contract we signed?" he said, "They'll make you, Granger. If you don't it violates the terms of the agreement and you risk losing the incentives we've bargained for."
"Hogwarts doesn't go back for almost a month!" Hermione protested, feeling her heart begin to race as panic began to set in.
"True. But you're not coming around for nine days. And then you're spending the following six drunk and shagging me. So it's only two weeks that you'd have to stay at the Manor once you're pregnant."
"Maybe I won't get pregnant," Hermione said.
"Maybe, but then you'd have to spend another sixs day next month shagging me until we pass out from exhaustion."
"Why did I agree to this again?" Hermione asked, her heart thumping wildly and her skin beginning to crawl at the idea of having that shag him for six days straight two months in a row.
"Because we both love our parents too much to want to avoid each other," Malfoy told her, his eyes straying back to where his parents were both resting easier in their beds, asleep now that the healers had done what they could.
"I'm leaving now," Hermione told him seriously, "Better make the most of having my bed all to myself while I still can."
"You better make the most of being a carefree kid too," Malfoy told her, "In a little over two weeks you're going to be the mother of my son for the rest of your life."
Hermione didn't know where he pulled the bucket from, but Malfoy managed to hand it to her just in time for her to vomit up her breakfast as that nugget of information sank into her brain.
"You're going to hurt my feelings if you keep that up," he told her chidingly as Hermione clutched her bucket, unsure if she needed it again.
"Merlin forbid," Hermione muttered darkly. Malfoy laughed and waved his wand, vanishing the evidence of her sudden sickness.
"I'll see you next week, Granger," he smirked at her when Hermione glanced at him one last time.
"Don't remind me," Hermione groaned, still clutching her bucket as she made her way towards the door. Malfoy laughed again when she waved half-heartedly before she exited the room and the hospital, her mind already dancing to all the things she wanted to do before she became a mother.