Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter: No money is made from this. The "Playmate" plot is mine.
A/N: I think after this chapter, we can start with some funny stuff again. It will likely be a week or two before anything else goes up. The semester is winding down and the test schedule's becoming insane!
The For the Future clinic was woefully underprepared for the number of potential matches that arrived at noon the day after the Grimmauld Place meeting. In fact, Randolf's staff was forced to lead would-be donors into the cafeteria, and call them in for testing in groups of four or five. Thankfully no one complained about the wait. Everyone simply grabbed a cup of coffee or tea, and shared any tidbits of information they had regarding Hermione and Draco's precarious situation. Information was scarce, so talk quickly turned to Quidditch or stories from The Prophet.
When a testing group was taken into the lab, they were made to stand in a square or pentagram formation facing each other. Healer Randolf would then cast a spell similar to the Transfusion Charm. However, this version failed to remove any energy or time from the subjects. Randolf revealed that he was looking for very specific combinations. If more than one person in the group had the same color, both were evaluated for which would be the better fit. There was no question of what happened with an energy clash - Draco and Ron Weasley were in the same group, and though they had different colors, their energies deviated from the necessary path in order to engage each other. The Healer also concluded that while Ron cared deeply for Hermione Malfoy, his feelings toward her unborn child were ambivalent at best. Weasley was deeply put out when they informed him that he was unfit as a donor. All parties were shocked when Draco sought the redhead out immediately after testing, asking to speak with him privately. Harry made to follow them; stopping only when Malfoy assured him the conversation would be civil. The blond led his former rival into a small conference room and closed the door.
"Come to gloat, have you? I bet you just loved that they said I wasn't good enough," Weasley spat.
Draco casually took a seat and gestured for Ron to do likewise. "Like I said to you yesterday, don't be an arse. Frankly, I'm surprised at their findings." Ron rolled his eyes.
"Look Weasley, there is too much going on right now to fight with you. Okay, we've never liked each other-"
"You can say THAT again."
Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose, making a purposeful effort not to antagonize the ginger idiot that his wife called a friend. "The only thing that matters to me is Hermione's health and happiness, not your anger and certainly not my bloody pride. I wanted to tell you that even if you can't help this way, remaining her friend and coming to see her would be a tremendous lift to her spirit."
"Coming to see her? Can't she meet me somewhere like Diagon Alley for lunch?" Ron looked confused. Well, that was better than pissed off.
"It's not likely, Weasley. The Healer ordered her on bed rest already, and I've been advised it may stay that way for the duration of the pregnancy."
"Merlin's balls! She'll lose her mind!"
"Precisely why I wanted to take the chance to invite you over to help keep her occupied."
Ron searched his one-time enemy's face for traces of sincerity, and he was surprised when he found them. "You really do love her, don't you Malfoy?"
"More than anything, barring our son."
"I still think you're a prat."
"Fair enough," Malfoy smirked, "I still think you're a wanker."
"So...coming over to visit her, but not dueling with you. That'll be new."
"I'll make myself scarce if it comes to that." The blond looked like he was sucking on a lemon, "Please, Weasley."
The ginger looked down at his hands for a long time. "You don't have to leave. I can behave if you will." He nervously held out a hand, "Truce?"
Malfoy gratefully took it. "Truce."
Both men stood awkwardly, and Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I'm gonna get out of here, since there's nothing else I can do right now. Keep me posted on who gets picked, yeah?"
"Sure. I'll owl you."
After Weasley left, Draco returned to the cafeteria and found a seat with Pansy and Blaise. The elder Malfoys were camped nearby.
"Thank you two for coming. I know it was short notice."
"How many years have we been friends, Draco?" Pansy's voice was soft but cool.
"With you? Since we were both in nappies. Almost as long as that with Blaise." Malfoy's brow furrowed in confusion.
"So there is no such thing as short notice," Blaise explained. He took a sip of his tea and looked Draco in the eye. "How bad is it? Just how much trouble is she in?"
"It's bad, mate. She could lose the baby, or I could lose both of them. I feel so fucking helpless." The blond wiped roughly at his eyes and started as he felt Pansy's hand on his forearm.
"Look around this room, Draco. You've got some seriously heavy hitters lined up to help."
"I know, Pans. But what if-"
Blaise broke in. "I suggest you drop the 'what if's' for now, mate. All they'll do is drive you mad. And that helps no one. I am curious, though, how energies from such opposite people could be made to work together."
"From what I get out of it, if the people care about her and the baby, then they're focused on a common goal. Apparently that transcends conflicting ideologies or whatever."
All three ex-Slytherins considered this for a moment before Draco spoke again, "I really appreciate you coming, but if you aren't compatible, it's cool. I mean, if you don't want to keep waiting..."
"Malfoy?"
"Yeh?"
"Shut up." Blaise grinned, his teeth glowing white in his face. "We might not have been fans of Granger in school, but after we started meeting up with the two of you a few years back, Pans and I both became fond of her. So we aren't just here to support you, got it?"
"Got it. Thanks."
"Everyone? May I have your attention, please?" Healer Randolf was standing on a chair. The crowd turned to him as one.
"Thank you for taking the time today to be tested for donation compatibility. I know it took a while as we had to go through more than one round to get the perfect set. I am pleased to report that in this case, one group's energies lined up so well we will be able to use 12 donors, instead of the eight previously estimated. If I call your name, please line up at the door. If your name is not called, you are free to go, with our thanks." Randolf looked down at the list: "Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy; Harry Potter; Molly, Arthur and George Weasley; Luna Lovegood; Minerva McGonagall; Neville Longbottom; and Blaise and Pansy Zabini."
Those who had not been selected filed past the dozen donors, saying goodbye. Narcissa, Lucius, Draco and Harry made sure to thank each of them. Once the rejects were gone, George Weasley surveyed the group pensively.
"Interesting mix we've got here that's supposed to be compatible: five Slytherins, six Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw."
Everyone nodded in agreement with a shrug here and there. Randolf must know what he was doing.
At 12:50 he led the donor group to the lab, instructing Draco to Floo home to get Hermione. They returned in record time and Randolf took Granger-Malfoy by the elbow, leading her to the center of the room.
"You'll need to hold on to the bars on either side of you. We can't have you collapsing." She looked concerned and he rushed to reassure her. "It doesn't hurt, but the power surge has been known to throw some recipients off-balance." Hermione relaxed and watched the 12 file in, thinking the same thing George had voiced. What a strange group!
Randolf had everyone take positions in a circle around Hermione. "All right: raise your wands and point them toward the witch in the center, if you please. Your wands will serve as the necessary conduit. During the procedure, concentrate on how much Mrs. Malfoy means to you, and your concern for the fetus."
When everyone was in position, Randolf began to sing the spell. Though the language was unfamiliar, the song had a haunting tone and the Healer vocalized it beautifully. As he continued, voices could be heard joining in harmony, though no one else was visible. After three or four minutes, the need for compatibility became apparent. Each witch or wizard emitted a different-colored glow, and the beams of light formed a tightly woven tube of energy around Hermione from her head to her toes, with the colors shining brightest over her abdomen. Arthur's energy was copper, George's red, Molly's orange, Pansy's yellow, Draco's green, Minerva's blue, Blaise's indigo, and Harry's violet. Interspersed was Lucius' gold, Narcissa's pink, Luna's purple, and Neville's mix of pink with pale violet. Hermione's eyes stayed open in wonder at the beauty being created around her. She had read about chakras in the past, and if she wasn't mistaken, each person's color related to a chakra or sub-chakra. Without meaning to sound egocentric, it felt like she was at the center of the universe, watching the cosmos moving around her. Even while she heard Randolf singing, her mind was replaying a song from the musical Fame called "I Sing the Body Electric." It fit her experience perfectly. Tipping her head back and closing her eyes in ecstasy, the Muggle-born witch basked in the comforting warmth emanating from the tube surrounding her. It was like flying without the fear. This must be the physical manifestation of love.
Randolf apparently received a cue to stop as he hit and sustained an incongruously high note for several moments. He collapsed after ending the song and the power surrounding Hermione was no longer tangible. She suddenly understood why he had advised her to hold onto the rails; when the energy dissipated, a hollow feeling overtook her, driving her to her knees.
An assistant ventured into the room to help Healer Randolf stand, and he conjured chairs for everyone, bidding them sit and rest; he would return shortly to assess individual conditions. Rather than sit in his chair, Draco made his way slowly to his spouse.
"Are you all right, love?" His narrow face was pale and weary, and he looked exhausted, but with the way his grey eyes were shining at her, she thought he'd never been more beautiful.
"I'm fine. Felt rather empty when the song stopped. It was weird. How are you? Do you feel okay?"
He smiled slightly. "I feel like I could sleep for a week, but looking at you right now, I'm happy. You're glowing."
Draco laid his head on her knee, distracting her from replying. Instead they sat quietly while she carded her fingers through his hair. She surreptitiously glanced at the other 11 people who had given so selflessly. They looked much as Draco did: tired but pleased.
The Healer returned in half an hour and ran a diagnostic spell over Hermione, stating "I knew this was a difficult case. Approximately 36 years' worth of magic was given."
"Healer Randolf, is there any way to tell how much was taken from each person?"
"Absolutely. This shouldn't take long," and he began calling donors to him one by one. Blaise, Pansy, Luna , Neville, Narcissa and George had given two years each. The remaining 24 years showed Arthur, Molly and Minerva donated three years. The cost had been heaviest for Lucius, Draco and Harry as it was discovered each had lost five years. Tears welled in Hermione's eyes at this. She hugged each donor in turn, clinging the tightest to her husband, her father-in-law and her best friend. Harry shrugged and told her that he had expected to give up a decent amount of time. Lucius reminded her that at least he hadn't given 24 years by himself, and Draco favored her with a purposely conceited grin, "We both know I'm utterly perfect, so I'm sure I'll be around to annoy you for decades to come, Granger."
"That's 'Granger-Malfoy' to you," echoed from his parents and his wife as the rest of the participants either looked bemused or laughed. Healer Randolf prescribed continued bed rest for the foreseeable future and respectfully shooed everyone out of the clinic.
Lucius and Narcissa followed Draco and Hermione home. She changed into her bedclothes and climbed under the covers whining about dying of boredom.
"Don't worry, Fiend. I may have a solution."
"What?" Draco and Narcissa perked up, as well.
"How close are you to being done with that charms manual?"
"Not that close; my interest in it has waned lately. Why?"
Lucius eyed her speculatively. "How would you feel about co-authoring a book?"