Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and make nothing from this.

A/N: Sorry about the delay. I've kept up with reading fics, but couldn't seem to write. Hopefully this will score low on the suckometer. Like I said previously, let's move this along, shall we? Thanks to Trelawney & anyone else who suggested the excursions!

Months had passed since the day the donors compared their lists in Healer Randolf's office, and with three weeks to go, everyone was eager for the ordeal to end. A little-known potion from Rapa Nui had been deemed safe and effective in keeping Mireille in a non-yarn-chasing mode. The only disturbing side effect was that it also kept the growing baby as still as the statues for which Rapa Nui was famous. As a precaution, wellness visits were doubled so that Randolf could keep a close eye on his clinic's most interesting patient.

Hermione and Draco's latest visit had been two days previous, and the young mother-to-be found herself annoyed and slightly disturbed at the lethargy she had been experiencing since. Randolf had said everything was fine, right?

She really didn't want to bother anyone. Better to stay focused on something, in order to keep needless worries in check. The notes from her collaboration with Lucius were stacked neatly on the bed next to her as she worked to streamline the manuscript. Granger-Malfoy smiled to herself as she re-read some of Lucy's exploits. While many were good for a laugh, others had been surprisingly touching.

It had been impossible not to notice Lucius' empathy increasing over time, so when he lost a bet to the Fiend one day, she directed him to volunteer at an animal shelter for a week. He agreed, with the stipulation that he would not perform duties involving...waste. In fact, he assured her, he wasn't likely to lift that ban for two-legged creatures, either, so don't get any ideas. After all, Draco had been raised by house elves and nannies, and look how he had turned out.

He received an arched brow in response, and made a mental note to research nappies.

To the surprise of his daughter-in-law (and his wife, and his son), Lucy's time at the shelter went swimmingly. The director of the facility was no fool, and she immediately noted how people responded to the urbane gentleman. His fears of handling waste were unfounded; he handled applicants instead, taking them through the shelter and introducing them to its occupants. His enthusiasm for the beasts (the pets, not the Muggles) was infectious, and adoptions went up 28%. When his week was over, he made two arrangements: one to continue donating a couple of days per month, and the other to adopt a bulldog he named Angus. The creature had taken to following Malfoy faithfully from his first day and vague disgust at the canine's slobbery ways had quickly grown to grudging affection. Narcissa had not been sure what to make of Angus when Lucius brought him home, deposited him on the parquet floor, and introduced the Lady of the Manor to its newest occupant. She tilted her head to the right to regard the dog. It did likewise, appearing to smile as it panted. Cissa looked from the dog to its proud owner and shook her head good-naturedly.

"Really, Lucius. And just what type of a dog is this?"

"A bulldog. He-" Lucius quickly noted that Angus had headed for the back door and was signaling his need for egress. He let the dog out, turned back to his wife, then spun again as a horrendous racket ricocheted 'round the grounds.

Angus had discovered the peacocks. Lucius sighed happily.

"Just when I thought I couldn't like that bloody beast more."

After the Animal Shelter, the Fiend convinced him to try volunteering for one day at a soup kitchen. Cissa's only request was that Lucius refrain from bringing anything home this time. Unsurprisingly, the elder Malfoy was uncomfortable and out of his element doling out food to the less fortunate. His memory even showed that to his shame, for the first couple of hours Lucius had a very difficult time not reverting to previously-held beliefs regarding Muggles. Sometime during the third hour, his curiosity got the better of him, and he began asking questions of those he served, trying to locate a common thread. Many told stories of substance abuse, some were obviously 'off' (Hermione discussed mental illness with him after), and others had simply fallen on hard times. A good number of those he interacted with were unwashed, ragged, and wild. He had a long talk with the Fiend after she reviewed his memory.

"Hermione..." Her father-in-law's tone was unusually somber.

"Yes, Lucius?"

"No more assignments like this one, please. It, well," he paused, trying to best express his upset. "It is not that I am without sympathy for those Muggles. But there were moments around some of them today where I felt like I was back in Azkaban."

Granger-Malfoy compressed her lips in thought. "I'm sorry; it never crossed my mind that you would feel that way. What if we agree to screen any future excursions to guard against this happening in the future? Would that be better?" Lucius nodded, grateful both that she understood, and that she was kind enough not to press the issue.

She touched him gently on the forearm. "You've paid for past sins. I wouldn't want to subject you to unnecessary misery."

Speaking of unnecessary misery, driving lessons with Hermione's father had begun. The duo investigated various cars before Richard settled on a purple Renault Twingo. Lucius' reaction was such:

"That." He looked down his nose at Mr. Granger, who nodded. "That. Really?"

"Yes, Lucius. Really."

"It's hideous. The interior is blinding - it looks like a clown threw up multicolored tapeworms."

Richard grinned. "I agree. This means that if you wreck it, you won't miss it."

"Point. Sold."

Mr. Granger went through all of the basics of driving, and the various parts of the car, inside and out. He was as thorough as one could be. If only Lucius had listened to more than half of each sentence. Richard told his daughter he was convinced he'd have a Valium addiction by the time Lucius was finished tearing up the countryside.

Hermione set the notes aside, her smile fading as she splayed a hand over her abdomen. What she wouldn't give to be able to feel Mireille kick! While she had complained bitterly at times over Scorpius' in-womb acrobatics, at least they were an indicator of his well-being. She hated to say it, but she felt less connected to her daughter, though she was sure the feeling would fade once they were able to interact.

"Three more weeks, Little One. I can't wait to meet you." She laid back, her eyes drooping as she lost what little energy she possessed. Her arm fell to her side, knocking papers everywhere.

And that is how Scorpius found his mum, the energy over her middle gray and darkening as he watched.

"Bitsy! BITSY!"

His mother never moved as he screamed for their elf. Acting on impulse, the youngest Malfoy stuck his hands into the murky section of his mother's aura and prayed for assistance. 'Dad, Grandfather Malfoy, Grandmother, Uncle Harry - HELP!'