Erstwhile on TUB:
"I'm sorry about all this, Harry. I can't think of anything else to do," she said softly, smoothing the hair across his brow. Hermione pressed a kiss to the scar on his forehead, and gently placed a finger on his chin. "Open wide..." she instructed, though he most likely could not hear her, and propped open his mouth. Carefully, she dripped an incredibly large dose of exactly twenty four drops into his mouth, watching them fizzle and create little red welts along his tongue and in the back of his throat. She hesitated, then added a twenty fifth drop for good measure, and closed his jaw quickly to prevent the vapors from escaping. When sure the acid had absorbed, Hermione placed another kiss on his forehead. "I'm sorry, Harry." She said, and apparated into thin air.
-
Chapter Fourteen: Apria, Eliot, and Harold
Neville approached the wooden door carefully, biting his lip and hesitating before rapping his knuckles on the soft wood. There was no reply and so he tried again, rapping harder and more determinedly.
"Draco?" he asked, opening the door, though he had not been invited in. Draco was sitting cross legged on his bed, surrounded by tiny bits of what seemed to be confetti. His hair was messed from sleep, eyes tired, and chin scratchy from neglect to shave, but his suite and tie were smooth and pressed, as if he planned to attend a formal engagement. As Neville looked on, Draco paid him no attention; he silently tore page after page from his open book, then, slowly, destroyed each page, bit by bit, shredding the writing over his bedspread. Neville swallowed. "Draco, Janelle wanted me to tell you that... that Hermione's run off again." Draco looked up in alarm, momentarily pausing in his defilement of the classic novel which lay in his possession.
"Where's Harry?" he asked, sounding innocently surprised. Neville looked ashamed to be the bearer of such unwonted news.
"He's missing too," he admitted, eyes trailing to the carpet. Draco's tenseness left him and he turned back to his chosen task at hand.
"Well, then I doubt she wants me to come after her, does she?" Draco relayed bitterly. "She's made her choice; let her do what she pleases." Neville hesitated, wary of how to approach the situation.
"Draco, if it's any consolation, I-"
"Leave me," Draco said, voice soft and void of emotion. Neville sighed, nodding sadly, and left Draco to solemnly shred the pages which told the story of a group of young children, lost in a candy cane forest.
-x-x-x-
Hermione opened her eyes to see a large, stone edifice and shuddered at its resemblance to the former Hogwarts castle. Pulling her cloak tighter around her, she tiptoed through the rusted, broken gate and crept up the path to the front doors. Tearing a line through the large yellow sign which proclaimed the building foreclosed and drawing her wand from her pocket, Hermione charmed the entrance unlocked and forced the rusty hinges to move. The doors groaned in protest as she pressed herself through them, and Hermione sighed in relief. She sent a charm to fix the broken lights on the ceiling, then another in succession to light them, and stared around her in awe.
"Wow," she noted, sounding impressed. "So this is the infamous Malfoy Manor..."
After taking a moment to view the entryway, Hermione began to wander through the corridors, peaking into rooms and taking in the scenery. She came to the room she had hoped to find with a surprisingly small amount of trouble. Pushing the dusty door back on its hinges, she quietly stepped into the study and made her way toward the little desk against the opposite wall.
As she entered, the candles lit themselves automatically- sending a dull yellow light over the various items on the desktop. Hermione scanned the poorly lit surface until she located a long metal box which held within it a million address cards. She smiled to herself.
"That was easy. Now... S, s, s... where are you?" she mumbled, fingering through the cards until her fingers fell over that which she had searched so tirelessly for. "Here. Now-" Hermione began, turning back toward the door, but was interrupted as a tiny orange owl flew directly into her chest. "Fagan! Oh, I'm sorry love- forgot all about you, didn't I?" Fagan hooted his disapproval, but did not seem angry as he cooed against her chest and lovingly rubbed his head over her collarbone. She allowed herself to take pleasure in his presence for a moment, then sighed and pulled him away. Fagan squawked in disapproval and Hermione chuckled in his expense. "I'm sorry, love, but I've got to apparate. I'm on a strict time limit... here," she said, and recopied the address on a scrap of paper from the desk. "This is where I'll be. Do you think you can find me there?" she asked, and Fagan hooted happily, taking the note in his beak. "You'll have to be quick; I won't have much time to wait for you." The little orange owl shot up in the air and made a slow loop before diving again toward the ground and expertly directing himself through the door and out the way he came. Hermione smiled after him, shaking her head, and sighed before disappearing.
-x-x-x-
Faced with an unfamiliar green door, decorated with peeling paint, Hermione couldn't help but feel nervous. She lifted a heavy hand to rap against the surface and bit her lip as she waited for any tenant to acknowledge her beckoning.
After only a few heartbeats, running feet could be heard pounding on the floor, and a small body impacted the wooden entrance. Hermione herself winced, wondering if perhaps it were a bad time to come asking favors, but was appeased as a small child appeared in the doorway, rubbing at his head and looking slightly embarrassed. Hermione smiled, squatting to be eye level with the boy.
"Hello, love," she greeted friendlily, admiring the amount of his father she could see in the child. "You must be Eliot." He grinned from ear to ear, standing straight and tall as he puffed out his chest.
"Yes'm. Are you here to see me?" he asked, sounding excited even through his manly facade. Hermione laughed softly, enamored by the precious child, and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Eliot. But, you've been a charming host and I am very glad to meet you," she assured, holding out a hand for him to shake with a disappointed and lethargic grip.
"Ellie, dear, who's that at the door?" called a womanly voice from further in the small, one story house, and Eliot rolled his eyes dramatically.
"I dunno, Mum," he called back, and Hermione rose to her feet. A moment later, a thin, dark haired woman who looked to be nearing the age of thirty bustled into view, straddling a toddler on her hip.
"Eliot, take Luca into the den," she directed upon realizing that she did not have acquaintance with the girl in the doorway, and her son groaned.
"But, Mum!"
"Eliot," she mocked. "Do as I say." He did so grudgingly, dragging his little lump of a brother nearly across the floor, and disappearing into a room adjacent to the entryway, which seemed to be the kitchen. Once the young ones were safely out of earshot, the dark haired woman turned to her guest with a tired smile. "Can I help you?" Hermione returned her grin and produced a slight nod.
"Yes, I'm looking for..." she began, and her smile dropped quickly. "Drat, I don't even know his first name... a Mr. Sergio, former care provider for Draco Malfoy? I believe him to be your husband, if I am not mistaken." The woman looked slightly wary.
"Yes, he is. May I ask whom it is that has sent you?"
"No one, Mrs. Sergio," Hermione said, producing her hand once again to be shaken. "I am Hermione Granger, an... affiliate of Draco Malfoy. I just need to speak to your husband for a moment- it really shouldn't take a very long time." Adora Sergio nodded softly, shaking her guest's proffered hand.
"Of course, it's no trouble at all. Please, come in," she said and Hermione entered gratefully, standing on the clean tile floor as Adora closed the door and moved quickly toward the room her sons had recently entered. "Landon!" her voice bellowed through the little home, causing a stir about the inhabitants.
The man Hermione had come to know fondly as Sergio soon appeared in the kitchen, his wife tagging along behind him, and stopped in surprise as he recognized his company.
"Miss," he said in astonishment, blinking against the sight as if he thought her a ghost. "What... What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Your master, is he quite all right?" Hermione, smiling at the comforting sight that was concern, shook her head and held a hand to stop him.
"No, no, nothing like that. As far as I am aware, Draco is in perfect health," she assured, then paused to sigh. "Sergio, you once told me that you would do anything that I wished of you."
"Yes..." he admitted, sparing a glance to his wife. Adora looked intrigued with the conversation, and not at all suspicious or intoned with jealousy.
"Well," Hermione began. "I've come to ask a favor."
-x-x-x-
After leaving the broken down Malfoy Manor, Fagan made a direct and determined path to the farmhouse. He counted the windows, assessed possible admission, and burst through an open portal, breaking furiously in just enough time to land gracefully on a blond headed brow.
Draco woke from his restless slumber with a small smile, identifying the little ball of orange feathers which had startled him from sleep.
"Hey, Faygie. Did you find her?"
Fagan hooted excitedly, taking into flight again and circling the room. Draco sat up, rubbing his brow and laughing airily in amusement. When the little bird came to land again on the bed, hopping around in protest of the soft surface, Draco's smile fell and he sighed.
"Was she all right?" he asked, almost tentatively, and Fagan hooted his response before extending an encumbered leg. Draco looked surprised, taking the letter gently from its messenger. The little owl immediately took flight, disappearing out the window and into the sky at lightning speed while his superior curiously fingered the parchment in his hands. Draco debated for a moment whether to open it and prolong his self inflicted mental torture, but rationalized that it could bring him peace of mind.
He unfolded the doubled slip, identifying an address with hesitation. Does she want me to come after her? It was only after reading the address several times that Draco realized that he knew to whom this abode belonged, and he found himself doubly torn.Sergio? What would she be doing with Sergio? Is there something going on between them as well?
With fiery eyes and fierce determination, Draco swung his legs over the side of his bed and exited his room with purposeful strides. After grabbing his cloak and broom, he made a beeline for the front door, ignoring the dark haired girl who rushed toward him frantically. Before she could manage a word, he silenced her.
"I'm going out," Draco stated with an air of finality.
"You can't," Teige protested, latching her fingers into his arm. Draco turned his angry eyes on her, noticing with relish the look of surprised fear that flashed quickly in her eyes.
"And why, is that, exactly?" he asked, spacing his words as to accent his demonic aura. Regaining her conscious, Teige glared with a distaste to rival his own, and wrenched her fingers from his tense limb.
"Because," she stated, almost as if she didn't plan to continue. "Janelle is in labor, Neville's having a nervous breakdown, she won't let me anywhere near her, and... she's asking for you." Draco dropped his broom in surprise. All determination and anger dissipated from his features, and he looked innocently confused; eyes flashing between the front door and the first at the top of the stairs. After a moment, he sighed and gave a nod before shedding his cloak and leaving it piled on the entry room floor.
"How long has she been experiencing pain?" he asked professionally, making his way directly up the stairs. Teige trailed behind him, somewhat surprised, and shook her head.
"I... I don't..." she stuttered, and he interrupted her with another defined question.
"Did you call the medi-witch?"
"Of course I did; she's on her way."
"All right, I want everyone out of that room," Draco said, eyes fixated on the brown wooden door.
"Everyone?" Teige questioned, confused, and he corrected himself.
"Neville can stay and everyone else she asks for, but I want as few people in there as humanly possible. In the meantime, we should prepare for the medi-witch. Get some towels, boil some water, and find something proper for the little thing to wear once it's out here."
Teige considered making a snappy remark, but held her tongue for the sake of her sister and did everything Draco asked of her. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he entered the room and quickly closed the door behind him, leaving her to wonder of the events unfolding behind it. A moment later, the door opened again and a flow of disappointed onlookers seeped onto the landing and made their way, grumbling, in opposite directions.
-x-x-x-
Sergio led both Hermione and his wife into a smaller room off the kitchen, and all three adults seated themselves while the children lingered, eavesdropping from outside the door.
"Miss, I'd like to help you any way I can... I'm just not sure what I can do," Sergio began, wringing his hands nervously and shooting repeated glances at his curious wife.
"Well..." Hermione began, hesitating and trying to decide exactly how to phrase what she needed from him by way of favor. "Something's come up, you see, and I... I can't stay at the farmhouse anymore. I don't quite know my way around the wizarding world, as of yet..." She fashioned herself with a lopsided smile. "I was supposed to take that class in the final semester."
"We..." Adora began, licking her lips. "We don't have much room, Miss Granger, but we'd be happy to put you up as long as you're recovering... as long as you don't mind a couch." Hermione smiled.
"That's very kind of your, Mrs. Sergio, but that's not what I mean. I have more than enough money to support... myself, for quite some time. I just need... a tour guide. I need help finding a place to stay," she explained, and Sergio beamed.
"That's not a difficult favor at all, Miss," he agreed. "I'd be honored to help you, and I know just the place."
"Thank you very much, Sergio. It is greatly appreciated."
-x-x-x-
"Draco!" Janelle called once the crowd was gone and she could view him properly. He strode to her bedside and she took his hand in a crushing grip. "Don't leave me."
"I'm right here, Nell," he promised easily, smiling and squeezing her hand in reassurance. Janelle looked instantly calmed, but tensed again a moment later, squeezing both Draco's hand and Neville's, which was tangled in her opposing palm.
"It hurts," she moaned through clenched teeth. "Why didn't you tell me it would hurt this much?" Draco laughed softly.
"I thought you knew."
Janelle grumbled as she waited for the pain to cease, then fell exhaustedly into the bed pillows. Draco, smirking, turned his attention to Neville, who whimpered as she released his hand and cradled it to his chest.
"Holding up?" Draco asked him casually and Neville looked startled, as if he'd only just realized that the blond had stayed behind.
"Draco! You have to do something! Is this supposed to be happening? It's all happened so fast... where's the medi-witch? How long does it take to bloody-fucking apparate, for Merlin's sake!" Neville rambled, digging his fingers, wounded and healthy, deep into the matted black tresses atop his head. Janelle, now recovered from her episode, beat him shallowly on the chest.
"Nevy! I can't believe you! I-" she began, but was interrupted by a stab of pain. "Ah- I,I... What right do you have to be hysterical?" she screamed at him. "I'm in pain! I'm in danger! If I want to be hysterical, I'm going to bloody be the hysterical one!" Draco was amused for a moment, smirking to himself at her rambling screams, but a concerned frown crossed his face as Janelle arched her back and bore down on his hand; she was, in fact, having another contraction.
"They shouldn't be this close," he said softly to himself, and Neville spun.
"What? Something's wrong! Something's wrong, something's wrong... I knew something was wrong!"
"Will you both just calmed down for a minute, please?" Draco asked, standing from his kneeling position beside the bed and beginning to fold down the layers of sheets that covered the blonde woman's legs and hips.
"What are you doing? Draco?" Janelle asked, somewhat in fear, as the pain ebbed away. Draco ignored her question.
"When did all this start?" he asked firmly, placing his hands on her stomach. Janelle sighed and leaned back in the pillows, thinking.
"I don't know... early, early this morning. I had some foreign tea before bed, I thought it was just a stomach ache, so I... I took an antacid and went back to sleep," she said, almost as if the realization had just come to her. Neville's jaw dropped in surprise.
"That long?" he asked. "That long and you didn't tell me?"
"I didn't think it was anything!" Janelle claimed in defense, but Neville refused to back down.
"Nell, you should know better."
"Neville, what did you do with the emergency kit the medi-witch gave you?" Draco asked, ignoring their bickering and concentrating on the more urgent task at hand. Neville looked completely oblivious, but Janelle took a breath to speak.
"On the-" she started, bit her lip against a moan of pain, and strained to continue. "The bureau... on the bureau." Draco retrieved the little kit, leaving Neville to intercept the bone crushing grip of his wife.
"All right," he began, handing the kit to Neville as he started at the top of the list of instructions. "If contractions appear to be less than a minute apart... yes... pink potion first." Neville, listening sparsely, worked slowly at his duty and was quickly reprieved by Janelle, who wrenched the pink bottle from the box and downed it all in one swallow. She breathed quickly for a few moments, then sighed in contentment and relaxed into the pillows. "You should feel numbness..."
"Wonderful, god sent numbness," Janelle praised, closing her eyes and relaxing. Draco smiled.
"Right- next. Did your water break?" he asked her and she nodded.
"About half an hour ago... which reminds me; there's an awful bit of mess in the bathroom," she said, laughing airily as if intoxicated, and Draco quirked an eyebrow.
"Right..." he mumbled, reading the next line and approaching her. "Do you feel pressure?" Janelle nodded. "Here?" Draco asked, pressing two fingers to a spot in the lower region of her abdomen. Her eyebrows knotted themselves.
"Yes, and it's very uncomfortable. Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Draco. What a wonderful friend, you are," she grumbled unhappily and Draco smiled at her sarcasm. Then, he frowned.
"Neville, I'm going to need your help for a moment," he said, turning to his stocky friend, and Neville's face flushed with fear. "You've just got to look and tell me if there's anything to see," Draco explained, and Neville's brow tightened in confusion.
"I assure you, it's something... now can we get back to this baby business? Please?" he asked, embarrassed at such admittance. Draco laughed and pressed a fingertip to his temple.
"I meant the baby, Longbottom," he said, moving to the top of the bed. "See if it's at all visible yet."
"Oh, no; I-I... I can't. I'm squeamish, and I... I just can't!" Neville wailed, turning away from his sweaty, exhausted wife.
"It's either you or me, and I think Nell'd prefer it be former rather than latter."
Janelle bent her knees in a classic, baby-birthing position and shoved her husband toward the bottom of the bed.
"Look, Nev, it's the least you can do," she pleaded, pressing her hand to the spot Draco hand touched and trying to relieve the bloat-like pressure. Neville swallowed his pride and crept to the bottom of the bed, lifting her skirt and peeking under it. He came up again, white as a sheet and twice and bland-faced.
"There's definitely... something."
"Can I push now, Draco? Please?" Janelle begged, becoming more and more aware of her natural instincts and needs. Draco shook his head.
"This isn't good. We can't wait, we're going to have to start this ourselves. Take the purple potion next," he instructed, then crossed the room to the door and opening it to find Teige crouched on the ground amidst the findings of her instructed scavenger hunt. Draco took the items carefully and nodded his head to her. "Check in with the medi-witch again... it won't be long now," he told her civilly, disappearing back into the room and closing the door on the wide-eyed sister of his child-rearing friend. "Here," Draco said to Neville, handing him a towel which had been soaked in warm water.
"What's this for?" he asked innocently, and Draco patted him softly on the head.
"To catch your baby, Nev. Get ready, it'll be coming very soon. Nell, you can push if you need to push."
"Oh, Merlin, save me," Neville whispered, holding the towel a foot from Janelle, as if he expected the child to literally need to be caught. Draco corrected him and moved again to stand at the head of the bed and coach Janelle on her pushes.
Less than ten minutes later, Apria Charisse Longbottom was introduced to the world, directly into her father's arms. Janelle spared a few moments to view her daughter and share joy with her husband before drinking the final potion of the set and falling into a deep sleep as her body healed itself.
-x-x-x-
It was dark in the little building, despite the fact that the sun was high in the afternoon sky. Hermione crept in silently, though she knew there was still a good few hours before she needed any such thing as stealth.
"Hi, Harry," she whispered, smiling as she approached his body, which lay as limp and twisted as it had when she had left him. "Ready to go home?" Hermione kissed the top of his head and moved further down his body, to crawl over him. She straddled his waist and pressed her chest to his upper torso, latching her arms behind him, and apparated.
She had Harry landed standing in the middle of small, cabin-like structure with four rooms and a loft. Harry, being sound asleep as he was, fell ungracefully to the floor and continued his slumber. Hermione laughed at him, and used her wand to direct him into bed. She administered a few more drops of lotic acid, to keep him sleeping until a proper waking hour, and tucked him into bed before leaving the home and locking the door, then hurrying off to the little town down the road for supplies.
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A/N: Uncensored version available at http:tangledupinblue.