"Mother," Draco said, and then, when she continued to stare silently into space, repeated more insistently, "mother."
Narcissa blinked, and a measure of focus reappeared in her eyes. "Oh, Draco," she said, in a pleasantly bemused tone of voice, "how nice of you to stop by for a visit." It was just, for all the world, as if he hadn't already been sitting with her for over twenty minutes. Smiling distractedly, Narcissa glanced around the room. "Why on earth didn't you bring Pansy, dear?" she asked. "And where can your father have gotten to?" Her brow knitted slightly. "I don't believe it's his fox hunting day… although… come to think of it…" she turned hopelessly confused eyes on her son. "What day is it again, darling? I've gone and plain forgotten."
Draco dropped his face into his hands in despair.
The room he was in was furnished with many of his mother's favorite things from her personal sitting room in the manor- but though she seemed to genuinely believe herself at home, which was some comfort to Draco, he knew better- they were in St. Mungo's hospital, in the ward for the incurably mentally damaged- the same ward occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Frank Longbottom, as a matter of fact, though Draco's mother had her own private room- or rather, a suite, consisting of a bedroom, this sitting room, and a lavish bath, all done to resemble her favorite spots at home. Her most devoted house elf, Peepsy, had even taken up residence here in the hospital with her.
It had been a week since the final battle had ended with the defeat of Lord Voldemort and the death, among many others, of Draco's father. Six days since Snape, after laying an unconscious Draco back in his bed, had apparated directly to Malfoy Manor and found Narcissa huddled on the floor in the corner of a darkened room, rocking back and forth and babbling incoherently to herself, completely oblivious to the half-dozen or so house elves that were crouched in a semi-circle around her, staring aghast at their mistress with their gigantic, luminous eyes.
Five days since Draco had awakened to discover that not only was Hermione still as deeply unconscious-bordering-comatose as ever, but that his mother had been placed in the hospital, in the mental ward no less- the combination of which two facts had caused him to fly completely off the handle, shouting about the utter unacceptability of his mother occupying a bed in a common hospital ward; first demanding her immediate release and then, once Snape had managed to convince him, not without considerable difficulty, that St. Mungo's really was the best place for her at the moment, insisting that she at least be given her own private rooms, to be furnished with a list of items from the manor that he quickly drew up himself. As money was no object, his wish was quickly granted by the hospital.
Four days since Draco had felt strong enough to make his first brief visit to his mother- he'd only dared stay fifteen minutes or so, and there hadn't been much to see at any rate; Narcissa had been practically catatonic at that point in time, lying motionless in her bed (an ornate affair straight from her bedchamber at home) and staring fixedly up at the ceiling; tears slipping steadily down the sides of her face to dampen her white-blonde hair, so like Draco's own. Feeling miserable and helpless, Draco had returned to the cottage deeply fatigued from even such a short time spent away from Hermione, only just making it back to his bed as the room began to lurch and spin; collapsing fully-clothed on top of the blankets, just managing to throw an arm over Hermione's still form before the darkness took him.
Three days since he'd returned to the hospital to find his mother sitting up in bed- but he'd only stayed a moment that time, because when she'd seen him come into the room she had called him Lucius- then glanced down at her hand- the place where her wedding ring should have been- and, finding nothing there (her ring with the cracked and blackened stone had been removed by the hospital staff at some point while she'd slept), had screamed and screamed and screamed. She'd had to be sedated. Draco had asked Snape to apparate to the manor, find the insurance paperwork on his mother's wedding ring- it included a photograph and a detailed description of the piece- take it to a certain jeweler in Hogsmeade Village and commission a replacement ring to be completed as soon as wizardly possible. The new ring would have no magical properties whatsoever; it would simply be a look-alike, with a crystal-clear, sparkling stone in the center.
Two days since the replacement ring had been completed- it had only taken a matter of hours, as there was no magic to incorporate into the design- and Draco's order had been bumped to the head of the queue because, again, money had been no object; Draco now being in control not only of his own independent inheritance from his grandparents, but of the entire Malfoy estate as well. He had taken the ring to the hospital and slipped it onto his mother's finger himself- she'd still been heavily sedated- then stooped to kiss her forehead before returning to the cottage once more. Later that day as the sun had gone down- dusk was the traditional time of day for a Malfoy funeral to occur- he and Snape had stood solemnly in the private cemetery on the grounds of the Malfoy estate, the only two witnesses as Lucius and Pansy were lowered into the ground, to join nearly twenty generations of Malfoy ancestors in eternal slumber. Draco had thrown the first fistful of sod onto each casket- for his wife he'd even tossed a single flower- a Pansy, her namesake, of course- before turning his back on the two fresh graves with their painfully new, ornate markers; for Lucius, a black marble obelisk; for Pansy, a graceful white angel. As they'd walked out of the graveyard, Snape had informed Draco that he was under close investigation by the Ministry- but that he didn't think Draco need worry very much, as Dumbledore himself had already testified on his behalf, and besides, there was no punishment the Ministry could impose on Draco without imposing it also on Hermione. Taking his leave of his mentor in the wake of this information, Draco had barely made it home- so wrung-out did he feel; both physically and emotionally exhausted.
One day since Severus had arrived at lunchtime with the news that Narcissa was up and about, and seemed in good spirits- yet appeared to have no recollection of anything that had happened from the final battle on; she believed herself to be at home, and kept asking for her husband. Draco, who was seated at the kitchen table with Pinky, reading a newspaper article about Harry Potter's slow and painful recovery, and who had spent the morning with Hermione, sitting beside her still form on the bed, just talking to her, alternately holding her hand and playing absentmindedly with her hair, felt his heart crack just a little bit more at this news. There were two women he loved in all the world and both of them, in different ways, were lost to him.
And now here he was in his mother's hospital room, head in his hands as Narcissa, not seeming even to sense that anything was amiss with her son, gazed about the room dreamily and called to Peepsy to bring more tea, asking the little creature, when she appeared, if she knew where "Master Lucius" was- the elf, with a small curtsy, replying that "no, ma'am, I hasn't been seeing the Master today."
Not a lie, Draco thought, growing slightly hysterical and rising to leave- he couldn't stay and watch this any longer, it was tearing him up inside- no, not a lie at all.
"Draco, darling," his mother called out as he made for the door, bringing him up short in surprise; she'd seemed so out-of-it today, he hadn't honestly expected her even to notice his departure. He turned slowly back to face her.
She tutted him gently, shaking her head. "Honestly, Draco, leaving without saying good-bye? Did I teach you no manners at all?" She sounded so much like her old self, it caught at Draco's heart.
"I'm sorry mother," he said contritely, re-crossing the room to her, bending to kiss the cheek she proffered him. "That was positively rude of me, you are right. It's just that my… my mind is on other things."
"Well, of course it is," Narcissa said, a wide, knowing smile spreading over her face. "You're a newlywed, aren't you? …But that reminds me, where is dear Pansy? She always visits with you." She glanced around the room once more, her smile vanishing to be replaced by that look of bemusement that seemed so common to her today. "And where has your father got to?" she asked fretfully, starting to twist her new, fake wedding ring, nervously, around and around on her finger. "He'll be so disappointed to have missed you. You know, Draco, your father is not the most… demonstrative man, but he really is so proud of you, and very fond of Pansy."
"I know, mother," Draco managed to choke out, through a throat that was suddenly very tight. "I- I'll call ahead next time, give you some warning. Then maybe… father… can…" He trailed off; he couldn't bring himself to say it. "But I really need to be going now; Pansy, she's… indisposed."
(Which was not a lie either, strictly speaking.)
"Oh," Narcissa exclaimed, "oh my, then you must get home to her at once, darling! Why didn't you say something earlier, I never would have kept you! I hope it's nothing serious?"
"No, mother, she's just… resting."
(Right. Resting in peace. The mediwizards had been absolutely adamant that he play along with his mother's delusions, not say anything to upset her- but Merlin, this was horrible.)
A sly glimmer came into Narcissa's eye then. "Well, I do hope whatever trouble she's having is only a little one."
With a pang, Draco remembered the toast his father had made at his wedding reception- to the young couple he had said that he hoped all their future troubles would be "little ones"- referring, of course, to children. Narcissa was hinting, in a less-than-subtle way, that she was ready to be a grandmother.
"It's nothing like that, mum," Draco said, his voice cracking just the slightest bit, "don't get your hopes up. But look, I'll be back really soon," he added, seeing her face fall, "in fact- we'll do tea tomorrow, all right? I just can't promise that Pansy will be feeling up to coming, that's all. But I'll be here; count on it." And giving her one more peck on the cheek, he took his leave.
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He had just closed the door to her rooms behind him, blinking in the sudden harsh, white hospital glare that assaulted his eyes- a shock to leave a place that really did resemble his mother's softly-lit and feminine sitting room at home, only to find himself abruptly in such a bare and sterile atmosphere as a hospital hallway- when it hit him.
The intensity of it almost knocked him off his feet- he actually did stagger sideways and fetch up against the wall, his legs nearly buckling with the force of the knowledge that was crashing over him like a tidal wave; Hermione was awake, and she needed him.
He leaned against the wall, fighting to regain his bearings; he had not expected this, that his newfound connection with Hermione, the result of the binding spell, would have an almost telepathic quality- yet there was no denying that what he was experiencing right now was something akin to telepathy. There were no words involved, just the overwhelming certainty that he had to get home right the fuck now, because-
Hermione was awake, and she needed him.
His lips formed her name soundlessly, and then he was running- shoving away from the wall and taking off down the corridor, heedless of the startled glances and even shouts of those he passed, racing with every ounce of speed his lithe frame possessed toward the hospital's lobby- the only area of the building that was cleared for apparition.
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It was a wonder he didn't splinch himself, so great was his haste. He arrived, thankfully all in one piece, on the front walk of the cottage, and was in motion instantly; sprinting up the walkway, taking the little house's half-dozen or so front steps two at a time, blowing the door inward nearly off its hinges with the force of his shouted "Reducto!" Not just anyone would have been able to do that, mind you; the wards and protections on the cottage would have been pretty worthless if they had- but the house had been "programmed" to respond to Draco's magic; his and Hermione's, and no one else's.
Ignoring Pinky's startled cry, he took the steps to the second floor as quickly as he'd taken those to the porch, then hurtled down the corridor and through the door to the master bedroom only to come to a skidding halt, breathing hard, one hand still on the doorknob and his eyes trained across the room, fixed on-
"Hermione."
His voice was uncharacteristically hoarse- hoarse with emotion as he spoke her name.
She was sitting up in bed, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders in all its thick, tumultuous glory, her eyes wide and confused. She had awakened alone in a strange place- after all, she'd only ever been in this room one time before- conscious, anyway- and only briefly then. Clearly it was her shock and disorientation that had called out to Draco so stridently.
They stared at each other for a long moment in silence, Hermione's chest rising and falling with hitching rapidity, breathing nearly as hard as Draco with the shock of her awakening. Then, wordlessly, Hermione raised her arms toward him, almost like a child asking to be picked up, and suddenly all of Draco's troubles- his mother, the Ministry investigation- seemed far-off and unimportant, for that moment at least, and he was across the room in two great strides, engulfing her in his arms and burying his face in her hair and thanking God, thanking Merlin, thanking God.
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(A/N: It's Thursday afternoon at 3:30! That's about 6 hours earlier than I usually post on Thursday evenings, but since this chapter is also like, 3 weeks late, I figured I can jump the gun by a few hours. Besides which, I know for a fact that the computer will be dismantled in 6 hours, as tonight we are moving it to the new place. It's the last thing to go- that and the cats. Ah, the joys of taking a long ride with two seriously stressed out cats in the back seat... but I digress. Hope you like the chapter- dunno when the next will be out, or even when the computer will be plugged in again! Don't take that as an excuse not to review, though- I can still check those from my parents' house!)