Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter. No money is made from this.
A/N: You guys were certainly outspoken this time. :-) A big 'Thanks!' to those who follow and/or favorite. In response to the reviewers: chupeechan (See the note below on why I chose that name); Mirrorsdeath17 (Thank you - there's a note below about that, too). dutch potterfan (And I love you for sticking with this for so long. I love Lucius in this, too. He pretty much writes himself. Angst won't be as bad as expected. I'll save that for 'Imitation.'); SlytherinGurrl (Thanks. You're right!); Trelawney (read on- I am going somewhere with this. Promise); BuTtErFlYgUrL214 (Hope you're doing better. No D/H this time because I gotta set some stuff up. They'll be in the next chapter); SerpentofDarkness (Hope this eases things a bit!); BigTimeGleekBTR (Hi! Here!); nutmeg11199 (Cool. So am I. This is my favorite fic to work on); PeytonKMC (Chill, chica! LOL How could I kill my beloved Lucy? I'm only a semi-evil bitch); Robin Hawkes (Two things: #1 the research I found pointed to it being too much trauma on the fetus & placenta in an existing pregnancy. #2 I already had a direction I wanted this to go); keyra89 (me too); Beccarwen (Probably not. Probably. Yes, see note below. Glad you liked the chapter!); Calimocho (see note below, and here it is!); midnight shadow of darkness (I'm happy you're enjoying it!)
OK, like I told BuTtErFlYgUrL214 - No Draco/Hermione this time. Don't hate! They're my favorite part, too, but it's going to seem kind of stupid if I gloss over everything else just to get to their scenes (though it's very tempting). This chapter's setting stuff up for the real fun.
The website I was on had the name Mireille meaning 'miracle.' This is why I chose it. Sorry if some of you don't like it (neither does Draco and he'll make that known), but since there's a reason for it, and it's already in the story, it stays. Mireille was also the name of a character in Katharine Neville's "The Eight," which was a very good book.
The dream sequence happened to my mother when she was pregnant with me, with a couple of changes: her mother-in-law was the one on the mountain instead of her nana, and she took progesterone to keep the pregnancy, instead of any more exotic solutions. She didn't receive any details, just the assurance that I would be OK. To this day, she swears it was like she really was on that mountain.
True to his word, Lucius awoke early the following morning and sent out six owls to the Healers-in-Charge at four hospitals and two private facilities. The letters were an oddly compelling mix of orders and pleading. He received responses from two hospitals stating they were not advanced enough to aid the younger Mrs. Malfoy. The remaining hospitals seemed ambivalent. One of the facilities never wrote back, and when he read the missive from the 'For the Future' clinic, he wasn't sure what to think.
Dear Mr. Malfoy:
We have encountered cases similar to the one mentioned in your letter. While it is not easy to enable a witch to carry such a pregnancy to term, it is not impossible. It is necessary to warn you, though, that our procedures are exceptionally costly; in more ways than one.
Kindly respond if you wish to engage our services.
Regards,
D.N. Randolf, Chief Healer
With a prayer and a pen, Lucius replied immediately.
Dear Chief Healer Randolf,
Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter. I am encouraged by your statement that there is hope. As far as the cost is concerned, I am a Malfoy. I can afford whatever is required.
I will contact my son and his wife. Please advise soonest of an appointment. We believe she conceived on Halloween.
The sounds downstairs alerted Lucius to his wife and grandson being awake, so he headed for the dining room. After all, the owl could find him just as easily there.
Lucius leant down and kissed Cissa's cheek before he took his seat at the head of the table. "Good morning, all."
Scorpius' cheeks were stuffed full with Merlin-knew-what, so he waved hello with a jam-covered hand.
Narcissa muffled a giggle. "Good morning, dear. I was hoping you would arrive soon; apparently women aren't as good at experimenting as men."
"That's only 'cause girls don't throw as well," Scorpius reminded her nonchalantly.
"Yes, of course." His grandmother rolled her eyes. "Well, now that Grandfather is present, the two of you can get down to business."
Which they did.
Half an hour later, when the room and its occupants had been Scourgified, Lucius took Scorpius outside to work on his flying. The child had inherited Draco's natural ability and fearlessness, and he had started to fly before his mother's phobia could infect him. It would be a safe bet that the boy would play Seeker for whichever House claimed him. Like his father, he was small for his age, slightly built, and intelligent. If it was possible to get the child to take Quidditch as seriously as he did Aggravation, they would be able to add 'ruthless' to the list.
Lucius beckoned to his grandson and held up a small box. "I bought something for you in Diagon Alley the other day," he opened the lid and out flew a Beginner's Snitch. Still gold, it flew much slower than the regular version and didn't go more than four feet off the ground. It could be charmed to be more difficult when the user had mastered the lower levels. It left Lucius' hand and hovered in front of Scorpius' delighted face.
"A Snitch? COOL!" The toy flew away, and Scorpius went after it like a shot. Distantly Lucius wondered if either of Potter's sons would be a Seeker like their father. If so, he fervently hoped history would not repeat itself.
He was so entranced watching his grandson that he failed to notice the owl before it landed on his shoulder and nipped his ear. "Cheeky bugger," he grumbled. The owl held out a leg and Lucius removed the message. "Don't have any treats on me, sorry," the owl glared at him. "Fly over to the back of the garden; I've seen numerous mice there." The bird's demeanor brightened considerably, and this time it nibbled his ear gently before it flew away. With some regret, he temporarily ended Scorpius' training session and the two trooped back to the house.
Mr. Malfoy:
Tomorrow at two will be acceptable for an examination.
The monetary portion of the procedure is 200,000 Galleons. If you wish to discuss the remaining cost, I am available at 4:00 today.
Regards,
D.N. Randolf, Chief Healer
Lucius let out a low whistle. 200,000 Galleons was more than small change. However, he had pledged to do whatever it took to keep the Fiend healthy and save his granddaughter.
He dashed off two notes: one to Draco and Hermione informing them of the appointment specifics, and the other to Healer Randolf accepting his offer of a private meeting.
The rest of the day was spent engaging Scorpius in various activities: some socially acceptable, some not-so-much. Narcissa even joined in occasionally, as long as it didn't get her dirty or land anything in her hair. An owl from Draco let them know that he and Hermione would make sure they were on-time tomorrow at the clinic, and that they would keep him apprised. The elder Malfoy nodded in satisfaction and checked his pocket watch for the 200th time that day.
3:48.
He excused himself and freshened up, entering the Floo at 3:59. It took him to an office that looked like something from a gentlemen's club. The room was done in dark paneling with spaces for two floor-to-ceiling windows. Between the windows stood a huge, paper-inundated desk. A glance at the front and side revealed it to be mahogany. Overstuffed chairs and a sofa were of excellent quality, if slightly worn. Orderly bookcases lined two walls. Speaking of, it was interesting to note the lack of a Brag Wall. The Chief Healer's diploma held a place of honor behind the desk, and that was it. The scent of pipe tobacco hung in the air, and the aroma was quite pleasant; probably a cherry blend.
"Mr. Malfoy, I presume?" Lucius turned quickly toward the sound and gave the man before him a thorough once-over. With wizards, it is difficult to guess their age. The stranger appeared to be in his fifties, with hair more salt than pepper and a matching goatee. He was small, trim, and impeccably groomed. His dark eyes shone with a quiet confidence. This was the sort of person who could command a crowd without raising his voice once.
"Indeed. Chief Healer Randolf, is it?"
"It is," Randolf offered him a small smile. "Please, have a seat. Would you care for some tea? Perhaps something stronger?"
"Thank you, no. I am fine for now." Malfoy relaxed back into the chair. It really was comfy.
"If you change your mind, the offer will still stand. I take it you accept the fee set forth in my letter?"
"The 200,000 Galleons? Yes. That won't be an issue."
"To be sure. The Malfoy name is known worldwide, sir."
"Both a blessing and a curse, I assure you."
Randolf smirked then regained his professional demeanor. "Kindly give me the specifics of your daughter-in-law's case."
"This will be her fourth attempt to carry a child. The first two ended in miscarriages. The third resulted in my grandson. She isn't very far along. The Healer told her with the last pregnancy that carrying another child could result in uncontrollable hemorrhaging. Best-case, she would be confined to bed for months."
The Healer scratched his chin thoughtfully. "What is her background? Are we looking at possible inbreeding issues?"
"Far from," Malfoy chuckled. "My daughter-in-law is a Muggleborn. I can promise you that we share no close relatives."
"Well, that much is good, then. Mr. Malfoy, I have studied both Muggle and Wizarding techniques to begin or sustain a pregnancy. In the Muggle world, a doctor might prescribe progesterone - a substance normally made by the body, and bed rest. Or if it's already known that the mother will have too much difficulty, she can hire a surrogate to carry the fetus for her. Unfortunately, that avenue is closed regarding trying to move an existing fetus from one womb to another. It is simply too traumatic. Surrogacy must be done using an egg fertilized in the lab, and then implanted." The Healer trailed off for a moment then resumed.
"But - we have had great success with an experimental method here..."
And now we get to the other cost. About time..."Please continue." Lucius schooled his features into a gracious expression.
"As I am sure you are aware, magic is a great source of energy and power. We have been using a spell to transfuse donor energy to the women in the program. It strengthens both the mother and the child, enabling the baby to survive full-term. The energy must be obtained from one who truly cares for both the mother and child's welfare. Transfusions from strangers are ineffective. As I alluded to in my letter, the cost is quite dear."
"How dear?" Lucius leaned forward anxiously.
Randolf's eyes never wavered. "The procedure shortens the donor's life, depending on how much energy is taken. I've seen it range from six months to 24 years. The amount donated is in direct correlation to the expecting mother's need. Granted most wizards live a long time, but who's to say how long any of us truly have?"
"Sweet Circe," Malfoy whispered. "Years off of one's life."
"Now you see why I said it was 'costly.'" Randolf regarded him sympathetically. "You don't have to make a decision right now. I'll see your daughter-in-law tomorrow and-"
"You'll have it."
"Pardon?"
"I said you'll have it." The blond's jaw tightened. "Anything you need to protect Hermione and bring this child into the world will be provided. I ask only one thing, Healer Randolf."
"Sir?"
"Do not mention this portion of your methods to my daughter-in-law. My son, either. It would only upset them. Hermione is a very giving person, and while she would make the sacrifice for another, she'd feel horribly guilty if the roles were reversed."
"Wow," the Healer looked awed. "I'd read so many articles that stated what a bastard you are. It's nice to see they were wrong."
"Oh, they weren't wrong, old man. Not in the least. I've always been a selfish, duplicitous arsehole, and I'll likely continue that path. But this is family, and I owe a huge debt to my son's wife. I've met my grandson, and if my granddaughter is anything like him, losing her is not an option."
"Your daughter-in-law must be quite special indeed. I look forward to meeting her and your son tomorrow. I'll be in touch." Both men stood.
"Thank you, Healer Randolf. If you will excuse me, I must speak with my wife." Shaken, Lucius Flooed home.
Narcissa wasn't at the Manor when he returned. The house elf let him know immediately that Mrs. Malfoy and Scorpius were at Young Master's house. It was unsure if emergency circumstances were involved.
When he burst out of Draco and Hermione's Floo, he found his wife reading calmly on the couch. She told him that she thought the children needed a bit more time, and she had shooed them out of their own home. Scorpius was looking a bit peaked, and she had sent him to his room to rest.
Cissa moved over and made room for her husband on the couch. It did not escape her attention that something was troubling him, but it was usually best to let him speak in his own time. He reached over and took her hands in his.
"Love, we need to talk."
A scuffling sound came from the back of the house.
"Did you hear that?" He cast about for the source.
"It was probably our grandson. He gets a bit restless every so often. Now, why do we need to talk? You look like someone made shoes out of your favorite dragon."
"You know I saw the Healer today about Hermione." He paused to ensure that she remembered, and he continued at her confirmation. "Aside from the monetary cost, the clinic has been working on a magical transfusion program that takes energy from a donor and gives it to the mother, and indirectly, the baby. It greatly improves the chances of a healthy full-term pregnancy."
"I see. Why do you look so worried, darling?" Her hand came up to caress his cheek.
"Cissa, the donor must be someone who cares for the well-being of the mother and the child, and losing the energy takes time off of the donor's life." He flinched at her gasp. "Healer Randolf said it can range from losing a few months to several years."
His wife had gone very pale. "Lucius," she whispered, "What have you done?"
"I've agreed to be the donor-" He held up a hand to forestall her argument. "You have been my love, my life, my dearest mate. But we pledged to do anything to help the children. We swore we would be there for them. Sweetheart, I could live to be 200; what's 20 years in that scenario?" He gathered his wife to him as she sobbed, and rocked back and forth slowly.
Footsteps were heard as someone emerged from the kitchen. Lucius looked up praying it wasn't his grandson.
"Potter. What are you doing here? How much did you hear?"
Harry stared at Malfoy grimly as he took a seat nearby. "I stopped in to return something for Ginny, and I heard enough. 'Mione's expecting? She must be beside herself."
"That is a huge understatement. She just found out. I don't know who she is planning to tell, or when. Kindly refrain from saying anything to her right now."
"I'll keep it under my hat. For now." Potter looked pensive. "This energy thing works?"
"Per the Healer, yes. It has a high success rate. I do not plan on informing anyone else. Draco and she have enough to worry about at the moment."
Green eyes contemplated the ex-Death Eater. "You care enough for Hermione and that baby that you would potentially shorten your life for them?"
"I do." Malfoy's chin rose defiantly.
"So do I. I'll keep your secret, but do me a favor - get hold of that Healer and see if they allow more than one donor. If he says yes, get details, please."
"Done."