Chapter Sixty-Five: Two Kinds of Crazy

"And but for a moment's rest to contemplate, the madness of the victor shall be more complete than that of the vanquished ever was."
-Lao Chi Phnem, 2986 b.c.

Julie had been unconscious –asleep, it seemed, since de Diablo's death. The Aurors were all amazed that a glorified figurehead, a mere girl, no less, who had been chosen merely because of her family and because her eyes could glow red, had literally singlehandedly killed the South American terrorist. The headline of one of the more playful American national papers, the Daily Orb-Star, read 'And With Her Left, No Less!' This same paper was making the biggest fuss it could over Mitchie's involvement, since it was, naturally, Pittsburgh-based. Reporters camped about the corridors of Sarah Goode Memorial Hospital, hoping to catch an interview or at least a glimpse of one of the unlikely heroes. The best they got was Mitchie and Donaghan raiding the candy and soda machines.

On this occasion Donaghan had blushed furiously in the glare of the flashing bulbs, and Mitchie had casually inquired of the adoring throng whether anyone had change for a Galleon. She was still suffering from what the Aurory mediwizards termed 'battle dementia,' which was basically a state of semi-shock where nothing registered as seriously as it should.

Considering it was Mitchie, though, it was sort of hard to tell.

She answered the reporters' questions fairly obliquely, almost as if they were inquiring how her last Potions lesson went. Donaghan stammered his way through it, suggesting more than once that he really had very little to do with things. At that point a rather disgusting female reporter began to gush about how cute his accent was, and Mitchie, incensed, remarked 'Isn't it?' and kissed him full on the mouth to demonstrate that 'this one was taken' dramatically. This display of boldfaced affection drew applause, cheers and loads of flashbulbs from the admirers.

At length the poor wolves were rescued by several fairly imposing Aurors, who divided like an amoeba, one part to assist the teenagers away and one part to inform the press not only that the Yank was suffering from battle dementia, but that they really weren't supposed to be there, anyway. The result of that misadventure was several fairly impressive wizard pictures of werewolves snogging in international newspapers, as well as a positively saccharine editorial about the expatriated orphan American finding love in Scotland by the disgusting female reporter from L.A.

Draco read several of the newspaper accounts to Julie, occasionally brushing her hair out of her face and holding her uninjured right hand. She slept on, of course, but the idea that she might hear him was comforting. Her left arm was in traction due to the broken collarbone, which they couldn't fix until she regained consciousness, and her scar had swollen and blistered from the energy in the Killing Curse she had stopped. She also had some few minor scratches, which had been carefully bandaged the Muggle way, meaning band-aids striped her good arm like a tiger's. Malfoy hadn't left her side, nor did he intend to. The Aurors had warned him of the possibility she might not wake up, but he knew she would. It was simply too unfair for him to fathom, the idea of Julie dying at barely sixteen, just as she had found her family, her magic, and -dare he hope? –a man who loved her despite her age.

Did she know how he felt?

Did she even care?

Was she really in love with him, too? Could she be? Or was her affection the kind of crush that would wear away? Was he doomed to love her, while her liking wore off into friendship?

Or would she simply not wake up, leaving him to nurse his wounded heart forever, without even Severus to turn to for comforting advice, since he had loved his friend's baby girl?

He laid a gentle kiss on her forehead, hoping against hope. Suddenly she stirred, but it was only to cough spasmodically and fall back, unconscious features twisted in pain. Draco squeezed her hand.

"I love you, Julie."

In the doorway Severus's heart jumped a beat.

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"Oh, come off it, Chloe!" Aldous raged. "I let you go off alone and you nearly died! It's over! You don't need me for anything anyway!"

"Merde, Aldous! You're blaming chance as an excuse to get rid of me!"

"It's my own fault! Go on!"

"I'm not leaving," the first-year announced in a steely tone. "What is it really, dear?" she inquired sarcastically. "Am I too blond? Too French? Too young, maybe?"

"Chloe, you're twelve years old, goddamn it! How do you even think that fast?"

Silently, Chloe crossed the room to where Aldous stood and smacked him solidly across the face with a crack. She then kissed him as well and as passionately as she could, which was something no ordinary twelve-year-old could have done.

"You don't do your research, now, do you, Brit?" she asked coldly as she swept out of the room.

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Again Julie coughed, and this time Hermione raced to her other side.

"Julie? Julie, wake up. It's –it's Mum."

At last she had given the name for herself to Julie. She had acknowledged her daughter entirely.

Julie coughed again and a little blood flecked her lips. Severus touched her good hand.

"Mawnin', mawnin' glory," she mumbled oddly. "I nuked the bad guy."

"Yes, you did, sweetheart. You finished everything," Hermione told her child, eyes tearing up.

"Mitchie helped a lot. My neck hurts like hell in jars. Hey, Dad, Draco. How'd you guys get up here?"

"Your uncle Harry flew your mother and I over. Draco's been here with you since –it happened."

"That's good. When do we go home? I've got to start the strategem field reports on that pentacle Voldemort rises from. And then there's been reports of some Dark wizards out in Bulgaria, I think I'd like to go after them for a bit. Suppose I can dual-enroll between Hogwarts and the Auror Academy? Wait, is there an Auror Academy? Dad, do you know-?"

"The President of the United States," the bootlicker announced. Immediately Hermione and Draco stood, and Severus followed a moment later. Alden Feldman strode into the room and leaned over Julie's bed. She merely sat up in bed straighter.

"Miss Snape?" the President held out his hand, which Julie shook with her good left one, inverting the wrist Quidditch-style. "Our nation owes you a debt of gratitude. It is the will of the United States Congress that you and your party be presented with the Medal of Salem as soon as your and your agents' injuries are recovered from. You have also been voted honorary full agent status in the American Aurory for your deeds of bravery." In a way that sort of reminded Julie of Professor Longbottom, Feldman swallowed as if to gather his nerve. "On a personal note, I would like to inquire how it was you defeated him."

"I intercepted an Avada Kedavra curse and redirected it to the source of its origin, to be purely technical." Julie realized she shouldn't talk too much like an Auror or risk offending them. "In personal terms, it hurt like a bugger to do."

Nervously the President chortled.

"That is quite a feat, Miss Snape. If I may, I would like to meet with your parents and Mr. Malfoy after you've had a few moments, if that's alright?"

"Sure," Julie responded regretfully. All her homesickness for her family had come back.

"It has been my profoundest pleasure to meet you," Feldman finished sincerely.

"Pleasure's mine," Julie responded absently, as the President left. Her arm hurt and right at the moment she just wanted a hug from her mum and dad. Draco quietly slipped out, and the instant the door shut, Julie burst into tears.

"Julie!" Severus cried, picking up her hand.

"Oh, Dad, I just missed you and Mum and A.J….I was so scared!"

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Ron tiredly got up from the chair he'd been reading the reports in. A sound at his shoulder distracted him. He turned, and there was a snowy white owl.

"Hedwig?" he asked in amazement.

"No, this is Galadriel," Judy announced, quietly stepping from behind the hospital partition. Ron's jaw dropped and he saw her eyes filled with tears of joy. "Harry gave her to us when he flew me over."

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A/N: Short chapter this time, I'm sorry, guys. More soon on this and the prequel, though.
-J. McN.