Narcissa sighed and waited as the healers and the unspeakable talked a few feet away from her. They'd used a spell to insure their privacy, but she could still read their body language. There was no good news.
Sitting in this utilitarian, scentless Hall was disturbing to her. The ward was not made to be comfortable. Unauthorized magic was banned. Treating the victims of dark magic didn't lend itself to the presence of other forms. She knew all the rules, but was some muggle painting to brighten the walls too much to ask.
Draco fidgeted beside her. She glanced over at him. His eyes were trained on the healers.
"They don't know what to do." Draco hissed under his breath. "This is ridiculous. It's been two days. They won't tell us anything."
"Your father is a strong wizard." She patted her son's hand. "We have to believe that magic will see him through this."
"We don't even know what this is." Draco clenched his fist on his thigh. "Why can't we see him?"
"I know as much as you do, my dragon." She sighed. "I'm sure they will tell us something soon."
She ignored Draco's expression of disbelief. Two days did seem a bit excessive, but she knew they had no power or influence on which to draw. Their money was all well and good, but it didn't buy them back what had been lost.
"Potter just tossed him at the healers and ran out of here." Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd like to know where he went in such a hurry."
Narcissa took a deep breath and ignored her son as he continued to quietly complain about Harry Potter, the government, and the general idiocy of the hospital staff. She was sure it made him feel better, but it served no purpose.
"They all responded well." Hermione plunked down her notes on the table and smiled at Claude. "I know there will be follow ups and more testing, but I'm hopeful."
"Your potion will work." Claude cupped her shoulder and smiled. "Your legend will grow. Remember to come and see me, my girl. An old man gets lonely."
"I'm staying in town. I'd like to continue working with you, if you can stand my cheerful warbling." She smiled at the smirk on his face.
"I can cast a proper silencing charm. Working with you would be a pleasure for this old man. I will even don some muggle clothes and meet your young man for some wine." Claude chuckled. "Your children will be magical. When you tell him, bring him here. I have plenty of dusty old things he can appreciate. Now, off with you. Young love requires a great deal of tending as I recall."
Hermione blushed and hugged him. She felt his arms tighten around her even as he blustered and complained about her overwhelming need to shower him with unnecessary affection. He pushed back from her, but held her hand gently.
"You have proven yourself, earned your mastery. I am proud of you." Claude squeezed her fingers with his own. "I went to that witless cousin of mine. I've gained his permission to adopt you. I have no heirs. I never much cared for children, but I would love you to be my daughter."
Hermione swallowed and looked into his eyes. The sincerity of his words was displayed on his face. She nodded.
"I'd love to be your family." She licked her lips. "What do we need to do?"
"I've already done it." He shrugged as he let her fingers go. "I knew you would say yes, but I didn't want to seem too presumptuous. Now, go. Spend a few days with that man of yours. Enjoy your youth. You can shower me with proper filial affection later. I won't even hex you for it."
Hermione darted forward and kissed his cheek before running out the door with a laugh. She'd never imagined staying in this little town when she'd started studying here, but her life was here now. All the things she needed thrived here.
She all but danced down the cobbled street, knowing Ambert was waiting for her.
Opening the door with the wave of her hand she stepped into the flat and froze. The entry was empty. The place smelled of cleansers and nothing else. She took two steps in and Harry stepped into her line of sight.
"What are you doing here, Harry?" She glanced into the room past her friend. "What happened here?"
"Why don't you tell me, Hermione?" Harry crosses his arms over his chest.
"I've just come home from Italy. There was a werewolf attack. They approved the use of my potion. I was there for the last month. My port key here arrived less than an hour ago." She blinked and focused on his posture. "What happened to my home?"
"You we're living here?" Harry waved his hand around.
"So, Ambert is a muggle. I didn't expect you to have a problem with him." She glared at Harry. "Where is he? Where is my fiancé?"
"Fiancé? Ambert?" Harry spun around. "You've been living with Lucius bloody Malfoy."
Hermione blinked and stood perfectly still.
"No. Ambert Sheridan is a muggle man. There is no magic in him. He has a record collection and degrees from muggle universities." Hermione swallowed. "I know there are some similarities, but he's got different color eyes and hair. His skin is darker. He smiles and laughs. They can't be the same man. You're wrong."
"I'm not." Harry took a step towards her, but her magic shoved him back. She felt the power in her body quake and seek an outlet.
"He loves me. Lucius Malfoy does not." Hermione forced her magic back under control. "They are not the same man. Why would Malfoy do such a thing? He wouldn't. He was sentenced to prison. He's in Azkaban. Ambert just looks a bit like him around the edges."
"Hermione, stop." Harry grabbed her shoulders. "This is complicated. The Ministry offered some of the convicted death eaters a shorter sentence if they participated in a rehabilitation program. I don't know all the details, but he didn't know he was Lucius Malfoy."
"He had no magic." She stared up into Harry's eyes. "I checked. He looked so much like Malfoy that I scanned him for magic and found none. That isn't possible. There would need to be a suppression device. You're wrong. You have to be wrong."
"I'm sorry, Hermione." Harry tried to pull her in for a hug, but she pulled away from him. She stalked around the now empty rooms as he trailed behind her going on and on about how sorry he was. There was nothing left.
"You have to come with me, now." Harry looked down when she focused on him again. "There is something wrong with Malfoy. You've been with him. The unspeakable and the healers need information."
"You want me to come with you?" Hermione shook her head. "My life is gone, and you want me to what? Go back to being your faithful sidekick?"
"I'm sorry, Hermione." Harry fidgeted before her. "You don't have a choice. If you don't come with me, they'll send a retrieval squad."
"This is France. You have no authority here." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Your squad might not like their welcome."
"The man you love is hurting." Harry took a step closer to her. "Are you really going to let him suffer?"
Hermione spun away from Harry. He knew her too well, knew she was going to go. She took a deep breath.
"What is wrong with him?" She turned back to face Harry.
"I don't know." She could see he was lying. "The team working on him need you because of some bond. I don't understand the problem."
"Fine. I assume you have a port key." She held her hand out. "Let's go.
Reginald Burke had been an unspeakable for most of his eighty five years. He'd seen a great deal in that time and had the sense to stay well clear of Riddle and his devotees. As he watched the witch approaching them, he wished he'd had the sense to stay clear of this program.
He'd heard she was powerful and dangerous, but this witch was more than that. He could sense her magic as it whirled around her. Hermione Granger had been cast as a lowly side kick in the tale of the last Great War, but she was clearly much more. Potter was chasing behind her like a child, chanting and panting as he tried to get her attention. She was not listening to him.
Her step faltered when she saw the Malfoys, but she paused and spoke quietly to the pair. The trio ignored Potter as they exchanged information. She narrowed her eyes when the auror tried to take control of the situation. She was magnificent.
She approached their group and tore down the spells securing their privacy with a casual wave of her hand. When the healers started squawking about her behavior, one delicate hand planted itself on her hip. Potter stepped back and shook his head.
"My presence was requested rather forcefully. If you want me to cooperate with you in any way, you will treat the patient's wife and son with respect." She locked eyes with each of them. "I think it would be best if we adjourned this little tête-à-tête to a room with chairs and a table."
"We just need you to answer some questions." One of the older healers looked her up and down. "You couldn't possibly understand the scope of the situation."
"You might be surprised at the scope of what I understand." She glanced back at Potter. "Find a room for us, will you?"
Draco settled into a comfortable chair next to his mother. The grumbling healers were glaring at Granger, but the witch didn't acknowledge any of it. She had included them with no hesitation. The healers had ignored them before she'd swept in. They'd been treated as unfortunate furniture.
The healers continued treating them as non entities. It was odd to be ignored, but Granger kept the whole lot focused on her with small shows of power. Opening doors with simple turns of her wrist wasn't necessary, but showing her strength so casually kept everyone off balance. The unspeakable tracked her every move, but made no complaint as she took everything in hand.
"Thank you, Harry." Granger smiled at the wizard but the expression seemed threatening in some way. "Please, wait outside."
"He's a prisoner, Hermione." Potter crossed his arms over his chest. "That makes treatment the Ministry's concern. You need to answer their questions, or I will have to take you in."
"Really, Harry?" She tilted her head. "You'll take me in?"
"I will. I have a job to do." Harry looked away from her. "I brought Ron in. I'll do the same with you."
"Auror Potter, you might want to reconsider making threats." The unspeakable managed to look stern despite the odd glamour disguising him. "I imagine she will be more helpful without your threats."
"You don't need to be privy to the patient's medical information." Granger took a deep breath.
"You do?" Potter shook his head.
"I'm a healer, Harry." She sighed. "My personal issues will not keep me from doing what is best for him."
Draco watched as the Gryfs spoke to each other in a strange mix of eye rolls and facial expressions before Potter tossed up his hands and left the room. Granger examined the back of the door for a moment, her distress obvious in her very stillness.
"We don't have time for all this drama." One of the older healers lightly slapped the table. "The death eater isn't our only patient."
"The death eater?" Hermione turned toward the healer.
"There's no denying what that man did." The healer met her gaze steadily.
"There is no denying that Saint Mungo's staff performed sterilizations on Muggle born witches and wizards that were deemed useful during the war. The experimental medical treatments that this facility practiced are the stuff of nightmares." Granger took a deep breath. "Did you comfort yourself with false platitudes about having no choice? Did you stand up to even one round or cruciatus? Did you take up a wand against the insanity?"
"My family would have suffered." The man's gaze slid to the floor.
"You went along. You survived. You were lucky enough in your professional choice to be deemed too useful to prosecute. Do not sit in judgement of any of us. We were on the frontlines of this war. Draco Malfoy and I were children. We were pawns, but he did more to save me than he ever did to harm me. Lord and Lady Malfoy were caught up in the madness for decades. She protected Harry. She did it despite the risk to her own life. Riddle would not have been quick about ending her if she had been caught." Granger looked at each healer in the face. "Their family did suffer. They didn't have the luxury of blaming someone else for their decisions. That you were allowed to do so was a travesty."
Draco found himself watching her in the stunned silence. He knew all the others were as well. He'd never in his life expected her to defend him.
Claude stared at his cousin as the man stammered about Harry Potter abducting the newest member of the Martel family. The tea had gone cold with all the fool's fits and starts. He sighed and pushed his cup away.
"She will be fine. My daughter is perfectly capable of defending herself." Claude smirked. "When she returns, we shall punish them for their temerity."
"There aren't many of us left. We can't go to war with all of Britain." The wizard sipped his tea and grimaced.
"There is no need to war with anyone. Hermione is Severus' heir as well as my own." Claude grinned. "I will simply invoke the penalties on our patents."
"With no warning?" His cousin's eyes flared wide. "For the whole country?"
"Perhaps." Claude shrugged. "The patents are controlled and enforced by the ICW. Their ministry doesn't have the funds to meet a week's worth of penalties."
"You would bring a country to its knees?" His cousin blinked.
"I have one child. That country killed my son." He looked out the window and watched the sun dance along the riots of colorful flowers. "I will not let them harm my daughter."
Hermione had answered all their questions without looking up at the Malfoys. Glancing toward them, she blushed. Some of the questions had been intrusive.
"None of your answers help us." The head healer glared at her.
"My husband and her fiancé are different men." Narcissa tapped the table. "I think I should have been told that the Ministry may have killed my husband in some misguided attempt to educate him."
"Father isn't dead." Draco looked at his mother before glaring at the unspeakable. "You did the spell. Just undo it. It can't be that complicated."
"They're trying to determine if my magic is interfering with the spell or if Ronald Weasley managed to damage it, but the problem probably runs deeper. The questions these fools asked..." Hermione took a deep breath and looked directly at Draco. "Your father's core is damaged. I've worked with similar cases."
"Where did you work with these patients?" One of the younger wizards examined her. "You certainly didn't train here."
"I studied in Japan, at the Osorezan Institute." Hermione smiled at the wizard's taken aback expression. "I earned my mastery in healing there before attaining my potions mastery in France."
"They accepted you in Japan?" Another healer looked at her appraisingly. "They haven't taken in an apprentice from Europe in fifty years."
"Why haven't you come to work here? There are so many people that you could help." The only female healer looked at her. "We need healers so badly."
"I am helping in the way best suited to my skills. I love research. Patient care does not suit me." Hermione smiled at the witch. "I can devise treatments and take on complicated cases without hexing anyone."
"You have a duty..." The witch gestured toward the door.
"To ease suffering?" Hermione tilted her head and examined the other witch. "You were still studying during the war. I am guessing you studied in Canada. Your family protected you. I didn't have that luxury. We all deal with our demons in our own ways."
"Can you save my father?" Draco slid his hand along the dark wood toward her.
"I would need to see his charts and diagrams of any active spells working on him. I might be able to design a treatment then, but I can not be the one to cure him. My personal feelings might impact the way my magic acted on him." She looked down at her hands and the ring still shining there. "I have a friend in Japan. I will ask him to come and help with the case, so there is no doubt that Lord Malfoy receives the best treatment."
"I respect your sense of honor." Narcissa Malfoy looked directly at her. "I can do nothing to help him at all. I know this is a lot to ask, but, please, look over the files and see if there is anything that might improve his situation until your friend can take over his care."
Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. The pain of it all would help to remind her that Ambert was the unspeakable's construct. Her fiancé was nothing more than a quirk of spellwork.