"A bit of fresh air always does the spirit good, I always say," chirped Healer Malone more to her own benefit than to his. Draco shuffled along next to her dramatically, dragging his feet. This was the third day in a row he was being subjected to an hour-long walk with the overly cheerful woman. He'd gotten to hear all about her cats Tibbles and Momo and about her grandchildren in Glasgow and how she was making them cookies for the holidays. He didn't care to hear about any of her constant yakking.
"I had no idea St. Mungo's put in an outdoor section, and I wish they hadn't," Draco mumbled bitterly.
"Ah yes, it's our newest ward of the hospital. Too many stir crazies if you know what I mean," the woman giggled. "Aren't you glad to stretch your legs a bit? That bed was getting the permanent impression of your backside in the cushions."
Glad was not the word Draco would use to describe his current emotional state. Not only was he being held against his will and forced to eat the same dried out hospital food every day, but now they were forcing him to leave his bed for casual strolls with a woman he despised, all for 'his own good'. "This is worse than detention," he muttered to himself.
"What was that dear?"
"Nothing."
To add insult to injury, the only other patients in the outdoor ward at this particular time of day were vegetables being pushed around in wheeled chairs or levitated through the paths like ghosts.
"Are we done now? I feel very refreshed." He forced a fake smile onto his face, much to the delight of the elderly healer.
"You do?" she exclaimed. "Oh, that's wonderful! Let's get you back to your bed then. I heard it's meatloaf and brussels sprouts for lunch today. Yum yum!"
Draco groaned as he followed her out of the well-lit and airy room back into one of St. Mungo's many white and sterile hallways. "Is there an alternate menu I could look at?"
As they entered his ward, Draco noticed someone sitting by his bed. From behind, he thought it might be one of his father's friends come to collect him, but on a deeper look, it was only Potter.
"You," he snarled. Two healers quickly turned down his covers as he approached and they helped him into bed. "I'm not a cripple," he snapped, shoving them away.
"Hello," Harry said lightly. "All right, Draco? How are you feeling?"
"Cut the act. Why are you here?" Draco asked. He didn't feel like playing along with the unnecessary charade today.
Harry leaned forward, putting his weight onto his elbows. "I was about to ask you the same thing, Draco. Why are you still here?"
"You know good and well they won't let me leave wit-"
Harry cut him off. "I understand why they're holding you here, but what I don't understand is why you're still letting them. You know what it would take to leave, so why haven't you?"
Was Potter seriously suggesting a riot? That he smash his way past the healers and just leave? He had thought about it several times but it hadn't seemed like a logical thing to do without his wand, but if even Potter had been considering it, then maybe it was high time he made a break for it. But of course, that wasn't what he meant.
"All it would take is putting a bit of trust in Hermione," Harry continued. "And I know you don't want to do that, but it wouldn't be difficult and you could sleep in your own bed and eat regular food." Harry eyed the tray of mystery meat that had just been set down on the table next to Draco's bed.
"It's meatloaf," Draco snapped, almost in childish defense of his dreadful meal.
"If you say so."
About a minute went by with neither of them saying anything. The silence was filled with tension. Finally, Harry spoke again. "Come home, Draco."
"Home?" Draco spat. "My home is Malfoy Manor. Where you want me to go is a house that probably smells terrible thanks to the mudblood and where I'll be even more a prisoner than I am here. And here they literally lock us in at night."
Harry was on his feet halfway through Draco's sentence. "If you call Hermione that one more time I swear I'll-" His hand was tight on his wand, knuckles white. He stopped himself and allowed himself to take a deep breath before sitting back down, leaving his wand in his pocket as he flexed his fingers nervously. After a moment's pause he continued, "You need to try harder. You are being a fool and it's only causing you more discomfort. Try."
"No matter how many of you come in here and beg me to believe you, I won't. There is no way I would have ever married that girl. None. She's a disgusting know-it-all with dirty blood and I want no part of whatever life you claim I had with her. Your begging is pathetic and I refuse. If the only way I can leave is to go live with her, then I'll just stay here forever thanks."
Draco turned his head dramatically, hoping Potter would get the hint and leave. However, the conversation continued.
"This is all hard on us too, Draco. The thing is though, the first time round, we didn't have to convince you of anything. You just let yourself start believing you could be a good person. Hermione never begged you to date her or to marry her. On the contrary, there were times you almost begged her. You made all the choices yourself, and now we're just begging you to believe that you could have because otherwise it will destroy her. And if you ever do get your memories back, it will destroy you too."
Potter presumed to know what would hurt him, and that was the deepest slight of them all. "Leave," he growled. "Leave and don't come back. I want no part in the life you claim is mine. Get out."
"Have it your way then." Harry rose to his feet and turned for the door. "But know this- the longer you fight, the more of her you'll lose. If you lose her, you lose your family. And she's the only one you've got left."
Draco locked his jaw and threw his head back against his pillow. He watched as Potter walked out of the ward without another word. His breath was coming in short spurts. His brain began working in overdrive.
Hypothetically, what would happen if they had been telling the truth? He entertained the idea of a life with Granger in his head. If all they had said was true, then he had been happy. Happily married to a muggle-born. Happily sharing his life with the girl he had grown up despising the most. What had he become? What changed? Every part of his body felt like it was being ripped in half. At this point he only had two choices and he hated both of them; he could sit around in St. Mungo's for however long they held him until he was deemed mentally sound or he could sit around Granger's house with the child until he drove her crazy enough that she let him leave. The only question is, which option would give him the quickest escape.
The next day, Hermione went back to the hospital. It had been a week since her last visit, and this time she brought Lacey with her. Her head was telling her it was a bad idea, but her heart needed her daughter to see her father. The little girl had been asking about him incessantly.
Before they got to the doors of the ward, Hermione stopped and crouched down beside her daughter. "Lacey, do you remember what we talked about earlier?"
Lacey nodded. "Daddy's still sick and if he says something mean I should forgive him."
Hermione gave her daughter a kiss on the head. "That's exactly right. Daddy isn't himself right now and we don't know how he'll be feeling today so we need to be patient with him."
"But this will make him happy, right?" Lacey asked innocently, holding up a little bag of Draco's favorite foods that Hermione had put together the night before.
"I hope so," Hermione sighed. She didn't think it would, but at least it might look like a peace offering when it was given from such an innocent little girl.
She stood up and held out her hand for her daughter to take before she plucked up the courage to push through the double doors.
Hermione knew that bringing her daughter back into this toxic environment would likely do more harm than good, but she also knew that she would never forgive herself if she didn't try every option at her disposal to make him remember.
They entered the ward and Hermione slowly wrote their names on the parchment on the counter designated for visitors. She watched Lacey out of the corner of her eye. The young girl glanced around the room curiously, still holding her mother's other hand. Her eyes made contact with her father who was currently napping and none the wiser as to who was here to see him.
Hermione felt her daughter's grip loosen on her hand, and before she could get in a word of protest, Lacey had taken off at full-speed. "Daddy!" she cried, much like their last contact. She jumped up onto the foot of his bed and crawled the rest of the way up until she was sitting beside him.
Hermione and two healers were right behind her, but they couldn't stop her in time. The little girl started a sing-song chant about sleepy kisses as she kissed Draco on his forehead and each cheek. Hermione held her breath as the man's eyes opened and his brow furrowed.
Draco looked to the little girl next to him and then up to Hermione. For a second, Hermione thought everything was okay. He hadn't reacted violently and he hadn't raised his voice. Yet.
"What the bloody hell?" he finally mumbled, sleep still thick on his voice. "Is this your army, Granger? A child?"
Lacey was nuzzling herself in next to him, babbling about the eggs mommy had let her crack into the bowl to make breakfast and how she'd only gotten a bit of shell in them. "Mommy said soon there won't be any shell if I keep pwacticing."
Draco stared blankly at her like he didn't know what she was. "Is this a sick joke?" he asked Hermione darkly. "Did you think I couldn't possibly resist baby talk and little kisses?" He said the last words in a mocking tone.
"You haven't pushed her away yet," Hermione pointed out with an eyebrow raised as she eyes the pair of them. "So yeah, maybe."
"And we brought you this, Daddy. It's your favorites!" Lacey held up the bag of food she had brought in with her. "Candied yams, shepherd's pie, lemon squares..."
Hermione continued to stare at the two of them in awe. Draco was simply letting Lacey babble and snuggle into his side like there was nothing out of the normal. Despite the things he was saying, Hermione took it all as a good sign. However, the more the little girl talked, the darker Draco's expression became.
He too seemed confused by his reaction, but he tried to justify it. "Well," he scoffed, "She's the only person so far who is probably just as innocent in this whole scheme as I am. It's hard to train a child." He looked down at the little girl and pulled back a little so he could see her face. "Excuse me child, how much are you being paid for this? Are your parents getting paid? You can stop the act now."
"Stop it," Hermione hissed quickly as her daughter's confusion began to show on her little face. The woman leaned over and scooped her child up and out of the bed. "This is not an act, Draco, and you have to know that by now. Stop being stubborn. For as damaged as your parents have made you, you'd think you would be a bit more hesitant to damage her. Even if you think this is an act, did you think of what this is doing to her if it's not?"
Draco locked his jaw and crossed his arms like a pouting toddler.
"So you can eat the food I've brought you and let your daughter spend some time with you without ruining it despite your current feelings, or you can let yourself revert to the man you used to be."
Draco reached down for the bag of food and dramatically dropped it on the floor. "I didn't ask to be part of your family. I want nothing from you," he snapped. "I never have and I never will."
Lacey was starting to cry thanks to the confusion, the harsh tones, and the spilled food. "For Merlin's sake..." Hermione sighed, kissing her daughter's cheek and brushing hair from her face. "Shhh, Uncle Ron will be here soon to take you to Diagon Alley to meet Uncle Harry for lunch. You'll like that, yeah? Not to worry, pet." Hermione glared at Draco who was staring off into the distance, removing himself from the situation at hand.
"I'll be back," Hermione said to the healers as she stormed from the ward to deliver her daughter into more friendly hands.
No sooner had she disappeared through the doors, then Draco reached down and grabbed the bag of food he'd so carelessly discarded. He opened the bag and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of home cooked food. Tentatively, he reached inside and pulled out a lemon square. It had been weeks since he'd last had dessert. Taking a bite, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to find bliss in this one small thing. It tasted almost like a memory.
"I like the green," Hermione said.
"Really?" Draco asked, a bit of shock in his voice.
The two of them were lying on the floor in the middle of the living room of the house they had just purchased. The wall in front of them was slathered with different paint options. They had narrowed it down to five choices, a deep and hearty red, a very pastel yellow, a medium blue, a creamy off-white, and a forest green.
"It's not too Slytherin for you?" he teased, reaching over to stick his finger in the paint to put a dab of blue on the end of her nose.
Hermione laughed and did the same to him with the yellow paint beside her. "I think it's just Slytherin enough, in fact. It's part of who you are and I like that about it. I also think it's the most relaxing of the five. Honestly."
"Red for the bedroom then?" Draco asked casually "To even the score." They were doing everything they could to ease any awkward tension that may arise because of their school houses, especially given their personal history.
"I was thinking the cream for the bedroom actually. Keeping it simple. But how would you feel about a red front door? I've always thought they made homes look so inviting."
"Whatever you want," Draco said honestly. "If you want a red front door, consider it done. And the bedroom could be a violent shade of purple for all I care. I don't think I'll be doing much focusing on the wall color in there."
The couple held eye contact for a long period of time, drinking in each other's faces, paint and all. Finally, Hermione burst out laughing and broke their gaze. "What? What is it?" Draco asked with a hint of paranoia, joining in her laughter.
"You look ridiculous," Hermione smiled, leaning over to give him a long, drawn-out kiss, her thumbs smearing even more paint onto his cheeks.
Hermione returned to the ward after about an hour after dropping off Lacey and allowing herself some time to cool down. Despite the interaction not being as aggressive as she had expected, it had somehow been worse. There was no change in him. He was refusing to see what they were putting right in front of his face. She knew it would take him awhile to adjust, but she hadn't expected it to take this long for any sort of breakthrough.
She sat down in the chair by his bed. He didn't even bother to glance over at her or acknowledge her presence.
"Do you remember her name?" She twiddled the end of her homemade scarf around her fingers, not looking at him so there was a chance he would actually respond. However, all she heard was silence. "You picked it," Hermione continued casually. "Do you remember?" she asked again. He was sitting with his arms crossed in front of him, his usual scowl drawn across his face, eyes unblinking.
"Her name is Lacey. Your daughter's name is Lacey." Hermione dropped the end of her scarf and stared at him. "Do you remember what it means? Surely you remember because you said you'd always known you would pick that name if you had a daughter. Do you remember? Lacetonia Andromeda Malfoy..."
Draco sniffed in a disgusted manner and turned his head from her, but his eyes had softened considerably.
"Draco," she stretched out her hand to place it on his arm comfortingly. "I'm trying to help you. Please answer my questions. Can you remember what her name means?"
There was another uncomfortable silence as he turned to meet her gaze, allowing the quiet to permeate completely before he finally grunted, "No."
Hermione stared at him, making him squirm a little as her fierce hazel eyes pierced directly into him, seeing past his walls and forefronts, straight to the root of his thoughts. "Yes you do," Hermione whispered. "I can see it in your eyes. That name means something to you, even now."
A couple of tears leaked out of the corner of his eye and started to roll down his face as he hastily wiped them away with the sleeve of his hospital robes.
"You remember," she pressed, scooting her chair a few centimeters closer to him in anticipation. "Tell me what her name means for you, Draco. Please. Tell me."
He mumbled something under his breath. Her raised eyebrow of confusion made him sigh and finally he spoke up, simply stating, "It means 'beautifully twisted together'."
A strangled noise of joy broke from Hermione's mouth as she leaned forward, grasping his hands in hers and pressing her forehead into the enclosed mess of fingers. "Thank Merlin..." she whispered. "I thought I had lost you."
Her happy tears began to fall heavily on his blanket as he yanked his hands back in disgust. "Gods, Granger. I just said what a word means! I didn't say I remember anything about the little twit!"
Hermione recoiled as though she'd been slapped. However, she continued her relentless pursuit, knowing in her heart that she was on the verge of a small victory.
"Beautifully twisted together," she echoed, her voice cracking, but only slightly. "Beautifully twisted together. We are beautifully twisted together. We are twisted and bound by her, our child, our blood; twisted together by our love that is so beautiful it could only be materialized through her. Draco, do you remember what you said when she was born?" Hermione's voice was shaking now, full of hope.
He was purposely ignoring her now, trying not to be drawn in by the familiar words on her tongue, trying not to give into the fate he feared most.
"I remember what you said. You said, 'She is perfect. She is our one good thing. Our lives have been destroyed and turned upside down time and time again, but now we have her. Together. A proper family.'" Hermione reached out and grabbed his hands again. "Draco, we're your family."
"Leave."
"What?" She stared at him blankly.
"Merlin, Granger! Are you deaf now too? I said leave!"
As his anger escalated, Hermione ignored him and closed her eyes. She started to hum, and quickly that humming turned into soft singing:
"I was never alive
Till the day I was given you
When I hold you late at night
I know what I was put here to do
I turn off the sounds of the outside world
And listen to you sigh
And I will sing my Lacey's Lullaby
I'm here close enough
To kiss the tears you cry
I will drive away the darkness
And fill your world with light
Sing you sweet hellos, but never a goodbye
And I will sing my Lacey's Lullaby
A life that's filled with love
That's the life you'll have
I will force the evil out
And everything that's bad
You're my girl and I'm your man
This love is do or die
Let this be my Lacey's Lullaby"
When she had finished the song, she opened her eyes to see Draco gaping at her with an odd expression. For a moment, an odd and chilling silence filled the space between them before Draco finally spoke.
"What the fuck was that? Was that a joke? Was it meant to calm me?"
"That was the lullaby you gave to Lacey the day she was born. And up until a month ago, you had sung it to her every night before she went to sleep. It's her special song."
"Piss off, Granger. I don't sing." He rolled his eyes and settled back into his pillows in his usual grumpy position.
"That's not my name," Hermione stated.
"What?"
"Granger. That hasn't been name for years. My name is Hermione Jean Malfoy, and yes, you do sing. But only for her."
With that, she stood up and grabbed her purse, turning on heel and marching from the room without so much as a backward glance.
Less than an hour after Hermione's dramatic exit, another familiar face entered the room, but one he hadn't seen yet since his accident. "Longbottom?"
Neville was standing next to the sign-in parchment chatting casually with the healers. His face was thinner and his shoulders more broad than Draco remembered. He wasn't the round, meek boy that he recalled from school.
"Oh, erm- hello Drac- Malfoy," Neville mumbled. "Feeling better?"
Draco scoffed. "Have you come to bring me flowers and kiss my arse like the others?"
Neville shook his head. "No, I actually didn't come here to see you. My parents," he pointed to the curtain at the end of the ward that Draco had never actually seen opened. "They live back there."
Draco had assumed that behind the curtain was merely a supply area or something because he had never seen anyone except the same two healers go in or out. "They live back there?"
Neville nodded. "Bellatrix. Your aunt. She drove them mad a long time ago. You already knew that."
"I had heard that," Draco said quietly. "They're still... you know?"
Neville nodded. "I visit once a month now. They don't have any idea who I am. But I owe them that much."
Draco continued to nod, letting the conversation fall flat as Neville followed one of the healers through the dark curtain. Draco heard muffled speaking and ten minutes later, Neville came back out with a solemn expression.
He then walked right past Draco without giving him another glance and Draco actually felt a little hurt. "Longbottom!" he called, telling himself that it was just the loneliness of the ward getting to him.
Neville turned back around to face him.
"Longbottom, were we- rather, are we friends?"
Neville nodded again. "Partners actually. At work I mean. Sometimes you're paired with Potter, and the other times you're with me. We're sort of a team, you and I."
Draco bit his lip and furrowed his brow. "So you're an Auror then?"
"Sometimes I am. I'm also a substitute professor at Hogwarts. Herbology."
"That's nice," Draco muttered, picking at the edge of his blanket. "You got the marks for that?"
"Not really," Nevillie admitted quietly. "But help save the world and there's a lot they'll let you do."
"You?" Draco scoffed. "You can barely help yourself. You're a-" his voice trailed off as he saw Neville's face harden. "I mean, erm, save the world? How'd you manage that, eh, Longbottom?"
"Are you making small talk with me?" Neville asked out loud, although he'd probably meant to keep the question in his head.
Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's just- better you than him, eh?" He gestured to Lockhart who was playing with what looked like an action figure of himself.
Neville lowered his head a little. "Yeah, right. I guess so." He made it back to the clipboard and began to sign himself out. As his hand reach the door to the ward, he turned back. "Listen, Malfoy. You're probably tired of hearing this, but you've got a good life going and it would be a shame to miss out on it. I should know." He gestured back to his parents behind the curtain. "They spent my entire life not knowing me, and even though it wasn't their fault, it's hard to love them sometimes because of that. Don't do that to your daughter. Don't make her wish you'd just died instead." With that, he made his exit, leaving a very disgruntled Draco behind him.
Draco flipped over onto his side, holding his pillow closer as a form of comfort. As he did, his hand happened to nudge something on the underside. He pulled it out and found that it was the marriage certificate he'd shoved under there weeks ago. He stared at it for a moment and then let out a loud, hair-raising roar, crumpling the paper into a ball and throwing it toward the rubbish bin.
When Hermione returned home and looked at the clock, she realized it was already well past 8:00. Groaning, she headed up the stairs to find Ginny tucking Lacey into bed.
"There you are!" Ginny exclaimed, relief thick on her voice. "I was starting to worry."
"I'm here," Hermione whispered, moving to her daughter's side. "Thanks, Ginny. I don't know what I would do without you. Truly. You can go relieve Harry of the boys now." She smiled at her friend. She felt guilty that she had pulled her friend away from her own children at bedtime.
"Don't worry about it. It's always nice to have some girl time with Lacey. Not to mention, up until about an hour ago we were with Harry and the boys. Alby was already in bed and James and Teddy just wanted to build model racing brooms, so no doubt they haven't even noticed I've been gone." Despite her words, Ginny smiled as she made her exit, happy to be going home to her family.
"How was your day with Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry?" Hermione asked her daughter, tears in her eyes that she was desperately trying to keep from falling.
"We got ice cream," Lacey said through a yawn. "They let me get chocwate sprinkles. And then we read stories."
"What was your favorite story?" Hermione asked.
"Babbity Rabbity," Lacey replied with no hesitation.
"Ah, that was one of your Uncle Ron's very favorites too when he was a child. He told me once."
"Really?" Lacey asked with a sleepy smile.
"Mmhmm... Now go to sleep. You and I will have our own adventures tomorrow, okay? I don't have to work, so we'll have a girls day, just you and me. Anything you'd like to do and we'll do it."
Lacey snuggled down under the covers and closed her eyes. As Hermione listened to her daughter's deep, peaceful breaths, she began to sing:
"I turn off the sounds of the outside world
And listen to you sigh
And I will sing my Lacey's Lullaby..."
A/N: So, this chapter was the one that made my update take so long. "Lacey's Lullaby" was the original working title of this fanfiction, so I wanted to do the chapter justice. Just as a side-note, the lyrics of the lullaby aren't really that important. Song writing is not my specialty. However, the fact that it exists is what's important. So if you don't focus on the lyrics, that is 100% okay with me.
I hope you liked this chapter. Just as a hint-hint, we're prepping to move out of St. Mungo's at this point, so I'm very excited to show you all Draco's reactions to the house and to mix it up a bit. As always, please feel free to point out if I've made any grammar mistakes, and also feel free to leave constructive criticism for me. I don't have a beta, so there's no one else to do it. Let me know where you think it's going or what you're most excited to read about!
xx Ashley