October 2008
Wizarding London, England
Friday
Draco returned to his flat in London after his release from hospital that morning. He spoke with Shacklebolt before leaving who informed him that, since he would be required for questioning and eventual testimony, he would have to remain either in London or at his parent's home in Wiltshire. Clearly, he elected to stay in town. The old Auror also informed him that the trace on his magic would be reinstated, until the case was settled. This was protocol, apparently for anyone suspected of using an Unforgivable, which applied since he'd allegedly put his mother under Imperious.
When he'd asked again after Lyra, the man had only told her that she was awake and talking, but no more.
His flat was exactly as he'd left it, only covered in a thin layer of dust with a huge pile of newspapers and parchment lumped gracelessly inside his front door. Shortly after he arrived home, he received a passive aggressive owl from his mother asking to see him. Well, I'm not going to Wiltshire, back to that hellhole. Plus, it's probably crawling with investigators, so she can come here, he thought, as he scribbled out a response to her, inviting her to dinner.
He spent the majority of his day spelling things clean, clearing clutter, going through month old letters and thinking about Lyra. He sent an owl to Astoria, asking to see his son as soon as feasible, since he'd been cleared from compulsion. He hoped she wouldn't make him wait long. He'd been away in Spain for two weeks prior to his father casting the spell, so he hadn't seen Scorpius in over six weeks and he missed him terribly.
His mother arrived an hour early, on her own time as always, with several shopping bags on her wrists from designer stores in both Diagon and SoHo. "How are you, my love?" She asked, kissing his cheek as he dutifully helped her with her things.
"I'm...I'm alright. Good to be home I guess." He replied tightly.
"Keep yourself busy, darling. If you don't you'll go mad." She advised, heading in to his kitchen to get herself a glass of wine.
"Have you seen Lyra?" He asked, hopeful for some news.
"I did, I just came from St. Mungo's, actually. She's awake, quite tired. Harry Potter and his wife Jenny were there with their two little ones. The older one, James, you should have heard the noise. I don't know how Lyra didn't shout him out of the room. Patience of a saint, that one." She mused.
"Ha. You should tell her that. She'd love it. It's Ginny, by the way." Draco replied.
"What's Ginny, dear?"
"Potter's wife. It's Ginny. She's the little Weasley girl that father gave a horcrux to my second year," Draco pointed out, bitterly.
"Oh dear. Well, she certainly has grown, hasn't she? Lovely little thing, round as a pumpkin right now." His mother replied, ever the master of denial and the expedient subject change.
Narcissa installed herself on the couch in his living room, and sipped on her wine. "I saw Blaise there also. It was so nice catching up. You know he and Katie broke up some time ago. I had no idea. If I didn't know better, and of course I know better, I'd say that he's rather taken with our Miss Black."
"She's not ours, Mother. WE nearly killed her." Draco bit out, settling with a thud on the other end of the couch.
"But we didn't," she let out in a hiss. "Lyra could have thrown me from the room today if she wanted to, but she didn't. She was happy to see me. Said she was glad I was alright and proud that I gave Harry a 'run for his money' during our fight. She's an incredible woman, Draco, truly. An excellent choice. Don't give her up."
Draco laughed harshly. "Are you taking those trendy mushroom tonics again? You sound absolutely mad right now! She'd be crazy to let me within a mile of her after what I did."
"You think so? She asked about you," his mother informed him.
"She did? What did she say? What did you say?" Draco inquired, anxiously.
"Oh you care what I say now? I thought I was just some mad old woman taking mushroom tonics," she replied, feigning offense.
"That's...Mother, I'm sorry. Tell me."
"She heard about the killing curse and wanted to make sure you weren't hurt. I told her that you were doing as well as could be expected and that you wanted to see her. She said she needed some time to recover but that she'd consider it." she replied.
"You did what?! Why?!" he exclaimed.
"Why what?!"
"Why did you say I wanted to see her?"
"You don't want to see her?" She questioned.
"Don't be absurd, of course I want to see her! But now she knows! And her response! That's just a polite way to tell someone's Mum that there's no sodding chance in hell of it ever happening!" He threw his hands up and sulked into the couch.
"Draco watch your language! You don't know that."
"Yes I do! I know her, Mother. Since forever. But regardless of that, it's just common knowledge."
"As if there was a best-practice manual for what to do after your father curses you to kill your true love. Draco, honestly, you're being so strange right now," she dismissed sipping her wine.
"Well, I'm sorry. I just nearly died, and all but killed my oldest friend after a month-long compulsion set upon me by my rat of a father. I also came within hours of trying to kill your grandson. I do apologize for not seeing the hope of romance there." He scowled.
His mother's expression softened immediately. She set her glass on the table and encroached on him, putting her arms around him. He resisted at first, but then melted into her.
"I'm sorry, darling. You're right. Whatever she needs. We are in her debt." She said, squeezing him tighter. "I love you, son." She said then kissed the top of his white-blonde head.
He knew his mother loved him. Felt it in his soul, but even still, she rarely came out and said it. The few times she did, it always made him feel uncomfortable. He felt the instinctive urge to play it off, but decided against it. Call it lingering sentimentality from his brush with death. "Love you too, Mum."
"Dinner?" His mother inquired, smiling.
"Sure, let's go out." He replied, helping her off the couch.
October 2008
Wizarding London, England
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Friday Evening
"LYRA! LYRA!"
"Yes James! No need to shout. Auntie Lyra just had her bell good and rung. Let's everybody play the whisper game," Lyra responded to the boy, dropping her voice.
"What bell?" he inquired in a dramatic whisper.
"I mean my brain, kiddo. Hey! Do you think you and your dad could go to the tea shop upstairs and get your dear Auntie a cup of coffee? That would make my bell feel much better," she whispered back to him.
"DADDY! WE NEED TO GET AUNTIE LYRA SOME COFFEE FOR HER BELL!"
Well, it was worth a shot...
"What are you on about?" Harry asked his eldest.
"I would give my right eyeball for a coffee, Harry. Do you mind?" She explained, letting her gaze wander over to James who was trying to pull a medical instrument of some kind off the wall.
"Ah. Yes. I think we can do that for you. Simple thanks will do, no need to be detaching eyeballs. James! Come on, son. Let's go upstairs." He collected the rambunctious little boy and corralled him out the door.
Lyra rested back into her pillows with a wary sigh.
"We should get going soon. I'd say you're about done there, meatloaf," Ginny observed.
"Did...did you just call me a meatloaf or am I having a stroke?" Lyra inquired.
Ginny laughed, setting Albus down on Lyra's lap. "It's nice to know that getting killed didn't affect your sense of comic timing.
Lyra smiled. Albus settled in, reaching up to play gently with her unbound hair, which had been carefully cleaned at her request. She'd awoken with it bloody and thrown up in a topknot, which had almost made her pass out again on its own.
"Did you hear what Mrs. Malfoy said before she left?" Lyra asked Ginny.
"What about the ferret? I did," she replied.
"Do you think I should see him?"
"Do you want to see him?" Ginny asked.
"No." Lyra spit out. "And yes...I don't know. I know that when I saw him at the manor, when I was trying to get him into the ballroom, it was harder than I expected to remain neutral. There was a point...he...he just surprised me is all. Confused me, I guess."
"Ok..." Ginny replied, raising an eyebrow.
"I kissed him," Lyra blurted out. "Not...not because I had to. Because I wanted to. I feel so weird about it," she explained.
"Ugh. Gross. You're too good for him," Ginny dismissed, rolling her eyes.
"Because he blew up your house?" Lyra quipped.
Ginny waved her off. "No, because he's a gutless little prat who doesn't deserve to lick the rain from your shoe," Ginny replied plainly.
"I see," Lyra responded.
"I don't blame Malfoy for blowing up my house, or scaring my boys. I blame his father. You know he did a similar kind of nasty to me when I was a girl," she said stiffly.
Lyra nodded.
"Made me do awful things. People were hurt," Ginny said, staring sadly at the wall. "Having someone else use your body as an instrument to hurt others, it's the worst kind of violation. Lucius Malfoy did it to me and I was nobody to him. What kind of soulless animal would do it to their own son? I dislike Draco on his own merit, but not because of this," the redhead explained.
"Gin. I'm so sorry for all the trouble this has caused you-" Lyra surprised herself, and Ginny by starting to cry. Albus was very concerned and looked up at Lyra saying "Oh-no!" before snuggling into her arm to comfort her.
Ginny walked over to sit on her bed, facing her. She grabbed one of Lyra's hands and squeezed it. "You didn't do this. Any of it. Harry and I let you stay knowing someone was after you. We knew there would be risks. Give us a little credit, eh?"
Lyra simply nodded and rested her cheek on Albus's dark hair, trying to control her sniffles.
"I mean, honestly, Lyra. You only died a little. No need to be so sentimental. Snap out of it," Ginny quipped.
"So true. Hardly died at all even. You're right," Lyra said back with a watery smile before wincing when Albus accidentally squeezed her on one of the cuts on her arm causing it to reopen.
"Ugh. Tomorrow cannot come soon enough. They'll be able to heal these" Lyra remarked, shifting the little boy to her other arm, which was in a wrap from her fracture. "Being unconscious for a full day had it's advantages, though. They gave me Skele-Gro for this arm. Didn't feel a thing. It was amazing."
"Now, that's the spirit," Ginny replied.
"I mean, I don't know if I have brain damage or can still read or whatever, but at least there is that," Lyra added sarcastically.
"Eh, who needs it," Ginny replied, patting her hand.
They spent another few minutes chatting before Harry and James returned with the blessed coffee, which really did improve Lyra's headache. They visited for a little while longer before the Potters went home for the night. Lyra's favorite night mediwitch came to see her after and Lyra was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. She absorbed just enough to take note that they wanted to monitor for a bit longer, heal her cuts, but if nothing changed, she would be eligible for release on Sunday evening.
Lyra knew that she would have to stay in England for the investigation and trial, despite almost every instinct in her body telling her to make a break for New York and never ever return. Where was she going to go? She didn't feel comfortable at the Leaky Cauldron because of what had happened. She didn't think going back to the Potter's would be wise. She was exhausted, having frequent headaches and didn't relish the thought of a screaming James Potter tearing around the house at 6am while her temples pounded. She'd talk to Kingsley. He'd know a nice quiet place for her to hole up. She knew one thing though, as soon as the Ministry allowed, she was out of here. Harry and Ginny would just have to come visit her in New York. You are dead to me, England. Never again. No frigging way...she thought to herself, falling quickly into a potion induced sleep.
