"Has her condition changed, Healer Bogrov?" Lucius asked upon entering the guest room suite Hermione currently occupied. Well, occupying was perhaps not the best term in describing the woman's inhabitants inside his house. For a solid week, she laid unmoving on the bed with an IV lodged in a vein in her left arm, doused to the eyeballs in Monitoring Charms and being tended daily by Healer Bogrov.
The healer gently held Hermione's wrist and studied his watch. With a light cough, he released her limb and carefully rested it against her side. He removed his glasses and nodded while pulling out a cloth and cleaning the lenses and droned, "Her pulse is slowly returning to normal as is her body temperature. I'm confident in saying she is out of the woods, Mr. Malfoy. When you called me, and I saw the condition she was in, I thought for sure she was not going to make it. In fact, I thought for sure she was no longer with us, but that rennervate Mr. Nott cast on her must've done the trick. It most certainly prolonged her suffering. However, I assure Miss Granger is no longer in pain. The pneumonia is gone so to speak." He slipped the glasses back on his face and sighed. "The lungs are clear, relatively. They healed which is what matters; however, the scar tissue left behind will cause problems for her if she is not careful. Her diet will need to be adjusted, and a simple exercise plan will assist in keeping her health intact. I almost guarantee she will be prone to contract respiratory infections very easily in the future, and above all else, the smoking must stop and not just for her. Secondhand inhalation needs to be avoided."
"I understand," Lucius said crisply and shot a glance at Hermione. "When will it be safe removing the Comatose Spell?"
"It will lift naturally when the body and mind is ready. Don't be alarmed if it takes another week or even more, Mr. Malfoy. Her body went through life-threatening trauma and may not be ready in conquering everyday life just yet, but I think it's now appropriate to allow visitors. I'm sure her son would like to see her."
"Indeed," commented Lucius. Alexander had grown despondent over the last week, not uttering a single syllable. At first he'd been distraught, rightfully frightened at what he'd seen and wanted nothing more than to visit his mother. Lucius may not like the boy's mother and couldn't deny that a part of him wished the worse for her. Not that it would have done a lick of good if she had departed from this plane of existence. She probably had a legal guardian or godparent all figured out in case of such tragedies.
But as much as Lucius despised the woman, she was the mother of his grandson, and most importantly, Alex was Draco's son. Draco had loved the boy enough to claim him and bestow the Malfoy name upon him; therefore, he had to take it upon himself to watch over and protect the next in line, ensuring health in the physical and emotional sense.
Healer Bogrov left Hermione's side and slipped on his cloak and hat. "I shall return tomorrow at the same time. Alert me if there are any changes before then. Give the wife my best."
Lucius followed the man to the main Floo and bid him farewell before meeting Narcissa in the Yellow Tea Room for brunch. Blaise and Alexander were joining her, the boy appearing tired and sullen and much to his worry, a tad thinner. The plate of piping hot mini muffins and orange wedges lay untouched on his plate.
"How is she?" asked Blaise upon noticing his arrival. He set down his fork and wiped the crumbs from the corners of his mouth, and Alex gazed at Lucius with naked hope.
Settling himself into the master's chair, he sipped at his tea before answering, "I was assured she will make a full recovery. The only question is when she'll wake up." Lucius' focus rested on Alex and gave him a small but comforting smile. "Which she will. I won't pretend to know everything about your mother, Alexander, but she is anything if not stubborn. I was also given the permission by Healer Bogrov that it is permissible for her to have visitors. Fancy making a trip after brunch?"
Alex nodded vigorously, his small hands fisting his napkin like it was the only thing keeping him from making a mad dash to the fourth floor where his mother dwelt.
"That's relieving news, Lucius," said his wife and smiled gracefully at her grandson. Like him, Narcissa had been more frightened for the boy's health rather than his mother's. Seeing Alex shift from sobbing hysterically to withdrawn and morose had caused her undeniable grief. With Miss Granger incapacitated, his wife had fawned over the child, showering him with loving words and gifts. She had given him many toys, among those a child's broom of which he gazed up at her wide-eyed, solemnly shaking his head as if to tell her he couldn't without his mother's permission.
Of course Miss Granger's absence had caused Narcissa in becoming more relaxed around the child, but not as much as they both would have preferred due to Blaise's constant presence. Lucius knew the moment Alex's mother woke up, Hermione would demand a full debriefing from Blaise on what her son was exposed to during her time of healing. He also knew when she woke up that all of their previous encounters were going to resemble a trip to a candy store in comparison.
Suddenly, a sharp throb pulsed inside his head. He needed a spot of tea with a nip of brandy.
"I have good news," Narcissa spoke, setting her teacup down on the saucer and smiling pleasingly.
"Do tell," urged Lucius, snapping his fingers to summon Mippy, code for 'get me a hard cup of tea this very instant'. She arrived instantaneously with a bow and his drink and Disapparated.
"I got word from one of Alex's tutors. Professor Quincy will be here in three days. They will be starting on Potions. Isn't that lovely. Oh, Alex," she beamed at the boy in pride, "you'll do so well. Your daddy was exceptional at Potions, and you will be, too, I'm sure of it. But of course we'll have to go to Diagon Alley and fetch you a potion's set as soon as possible."
Both Blaise and Lucius coughed noisily in discouragement, the former piping up, "Mrs. Malfoy, is it wise to make a trip? I highly advise against it."
"I'm sure we can place an order for one and have it by this evening if necessary, darling," Lucius pointed out gently, thinking a trip to Diagon Alley was still too soon. The press had yet to let up on wanting a current picture of the boy, and he'd be damned to let them have it. They were like mongrels offered a fresh slab of bloody, red meat. Tongues salivating and lapping, they'd bombard the boy with questions and overwhelm him, frighten him most likely. His grandson was not like his father in that aspect who had craved and relished attention from strangers but yearned for it from his mother. Yes, he'd noticed how attached Alex and Miss Granger were with hugs, handholding, and kisses. It reminded him a great deal of Draco and his wife of when his son had been a lad. The boy was always pleased having been given tight, loving embraces from his mother. He always wanted to be carried and had been almost impossible to get him to walk, and Cissa had cooed and fussed over him, telling Lucius that it was fine that Draco wasn't walking yet.
"However is he supposed to walk when you keep holding him? For Merlin's sake, he is thirteen months old, Narcissa!" he hissed at wife as she carefully held their chunky lump of a son in her arms, her lips smooching a series of soft butterfly kisses across his cheeks and forehead.
"He's just a baby, Lucius, and he needs his mummy." She grinned adoringly at the baby who gifted her a high-pitched giggle. "Don't you, sweetheart?" She sighed contently and brought Draco's small head to her shoulder, the child curling his tiny fist close to his mouth and sucking on his thumb.
Lucius could not contain the feeling of pride swelling up inside him at seeing how adorable his progeny appeared. Some parents had cursed the world with physically inadequate offspring, and he was very pleased not to be one of them.
Once brunch had finished and with the headache lessened considerably, Lucius, Narcissa, Blaise, and Alex left the tearoom and walked the hallways leading to the fourth floor. The boy kept close to Blaise while passing the portraits with his eyes straight. His grandparents had advised him to keep his eyes forward at all times when passing them, not giving him a reason why.
He couldn't help but keep his eyes peeled and wandering, though. He had not been on this floor of the manor. In actuality, he had not been in most parts of the property. His grandfather had told him not to go scouting about, and despite being tempted to do so, he resisted. Not that it was possible anyway. His father's parents had kept an especially close eye on him. Blaise, too. All of them giving him all kinds of attention like something even worse was going to happen. Like watching his mom fall through ice and into a river and not resurface wasn't bad enough.
Alex knew it could've been worse, but he wasn't going to go there. Not yet, anyway. He'd save his troubled thoughts for when his mom woke up. The last thing he wanted was for his grandmother, someone he was just getting to know, fussing over him even more than she already was. The toys and new clothes made of nice fabric were fine, but he really just wanted his mom. Everyone gave him a reason why he couldn't see her yet. Something about how her immune system was fragile and how her body was fighting off infections. But his grandfather saw her every day, though not for very long, Alex was told.
They came to two closed doors, and Alex watched on shifting feet as his grandfather slowly opened one of them and offered his hand to him. The child stared at the gloved hand pensively before placing his smaller one in it and was led into the room while the others stayed behind at the threshold.
The room was gargantuan with a large window on the west wall with parted, emerald-green drapes where the sun shining through the glass acted as the light source. The floors were hard marble, and the walls were plainly white. He noticed outlines on them where portraits must've been taken down and took note of the room's clean smell, having the faint odor of disinfectant.
His mother lay motionlessly on her back underneath starchy, white sheets with a fluffy pillow underneath her head and was reminded of the Muggle fairy tales she recited on occasion when he was a little younger. He thought she looked like someone in need of a kiss to wake up, so he shuffled closer to the side of the bed, realizing he'd have to climb up on it to do so. It was big, though, and his mom was right in the middle laying unnervingly still. The sound of her breath and the rise of her chest comforted him, so he reached over as far as he could and brushed his fingers against hers and frowned when they didn't even twitch in response.
"She's not asleep," his grandfather told him carefully but firmly. "But she is resting."
That didn't make sense to Alex at all, so he scowled at his mother's slack face. Her eyelids were shut, and her mouth was partially opened, taking in air. She most certainly looked like she was sleeping, but then again, he knew she wasn't keen sleeping on her back but favored her side. He remembered that from when he'd crawl into bed next after having a nightmare. She was always on her side and would scoot closer to him and place an arm around him, whispering how much she loved him.
His scowl started to crumble, and he felt a hand pat his shoulder. He looked up at Blaise who told him, "She'll be fine. I promise."
Unable to help it, he whispered squeakily, his voice rusty with misuse, "I want my mom."
"I know," he sighed and patted his head and then gestured to his mom. "And she knows. She only needs time, Alex."
"Did my dad need time, too?" Because of if people needed time to die or live then…then...he didn't understand.
His grandfather left the room at once as Blaise shook his head. "I'm sorry to say that your father had no time, and it's not fair he left so soon and so unexpectedly. But your mother will wake up. She is," he paused and lightly chuckled, "the most stubborn woman I've ever known. She won't want me telling you this, but I think you should know."
"Know what?"
Blaise sunk one knee to the floor to get on eyelevel with the Alex. "Your mum survived a war. She survived a war where many people like her did not. And do you know how she did it? Because she's resilient. She tough. All that righteous nobility thickened her skin."
"You sound like my dad," Alex murmured, casting a forlorn glance at his mom. "Mom said she wasn't in the war. She said she was out of the country. She said she never got hurt, and that she was safe."
Such lies, Granger, Blaise inwardly told the unconscious woman in the bed. He disapproved of her dishonesty regarding her part in the war, but he was not a parent, so he could only fork out so much judgment. He vowed when it was his turn to procreate, he'd tell his offspring the truth: he was of the neutral party.
"You'll have to talk to her about it then. It might be a little rough for her to tell you. It was a difficult time for everyone. Now what say you we take to the library? When your mum wakes up, she'll be impressed how fast you learned Italian."
"I haven't learned," Alex denied bashfully. "I only know a few words."
"So let's go learn a few more. Like your father once told me, the most important thing a bloke can learn is how to order a pizza in Italy. I, of course, knew that already, but he learned for himself the hard way, poor chap. A story for another time, I'm afraid."
The air was warm as Hermione watched the sun set from her place on the picnic blanket. With her legs crossed in front of her, she smiled while watching the sky darken.
"What are you smiling at?" Draco asked as he lay beside her, munching on a half-eaten green apple.
"This is nice." She wiggled her bare toes which were painted a glossy lime green. "Don't you think this is nice?"
"Indeed," he commented and took another crisp-sounding bite out of his snack.
"We never got to do this, though. I rarely ever saw you during the summer. You hardly got to enjoy a proper summer in Salem. I would have liked to take you here. Abigail's Lake is wonderful during that time of the year."
"It's too warm," he complained, finishing off his apple and tossing the core to the side and swallowed. "And muggy."
"I like it." She let her head fall back while sighing contently. "It's relaxing here. Don't you agree?" She craned her head to stare at him. He had his hands interlocked behind his skull, staring blankly up at the sky where the stars started poking out to greet them.
"We've been here for so long. I need to get back. So do you," he whispered.
Hermione frowned at him. "I don't need to go anywhere, and you can stay for a bit longer. Please stay. I've never asked you before. Will you do it for me now?"
"I can't stay and neither can you. Scorpius is waiting, and you know his patience is limited. He'll start throwing fits, and you know it, Granger."
"You're speaking in tongues, Malfoy," She scoffed and playfully swatted at his stomach. "Alex is over there by the swings." She pointed a finger at her son who was pushing the two year old girl harnessed inside a protected belt, the younger child giggling happily while building height and speed. They were twenty or so yards away. "He's pushing Eliza on the swing. They're having fun."
She lowered herself down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder and felt his arm wrap around her and he said, "Why you call her that, I haven't the slightest. Her name is Cassiopeia." His larynx bobbed and lowly added, "Or it would have been."
"I know," she replied in a soft breath and buried herself deeper into his embrace, brushing her lips underneath his jawline. "Do you think she would have really looked like that? Would she have really had my eyes?"
"Perhaps, but you can't stay here, and I have to leave." Draco pushed her away and sat up, extending his hand towards the children on the swing. "Bring her to me, Scorpius. We have to leave."
Alex gently maneuvered his little sister out of the swing and grabbed her hand, leading her towards their parents, their feet bare and grass-stained and lips red and wet from their ice-lollies eaten a few minutes prior.
The little girl let go of her brother's hand and toddled over to her father and clung to his shoulder as he climbed to his feet. Hermione sadly stared up at him and begged, "Please stay with me. I miss you so much."
"We have to go and so do you. Scorpius is waiting for you." He began walking down the hill towards the lake, Eliza waving her hand in goodbye over his shoulder.
Alex was no longer next to her, and the swing-set was gone, as well. Draco was now on the dock next to a small paddling boat. He set down their daughter while he untied the rope bounding their transportation that would take them away from Hermione. Quickly, she hopped up to her feet and dashed towards them. "Must you go? Please don't. I love you, Draco, and I want you to stay."
He tossed the rope into the boat and grabbed her by the shoulders and smashed their lips together, his palms squishing her face. He then pulled away far too soon and growled, "I have to leave. If I don't, neither will you."
Her vision blurred, her throat swelling thickly. Hot tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she reached for him, her fingers grasping his wrist. "I'm sorry," she said and he sighed, clutching the back of her head and pulling her into a kiss once more.
"I know," he mumbled into her lips. "And I am, too. For many thing but mostly for keeping you. I just couldn't resist having you one last time."
He let go of her, and she watched helplessly as he picked up Eliza and set her down in the boat. A warm wind swept around the little girl and tousled her light blonde, curly hair.
"Mommy," the girl whimpered and stretched her hand towards Hermione.
Draco climbed into the boat, the contraption teetering a bit from the added weight and held the girl close to him, whispering something into her ear as her bottom lip jutted out. He pressed his mouth firmly against her round cheek and kissed her, rubbing her tiny back in comfort and cooed, "We all have to leave, sweetheart. I'm sorry."
Hermione sniffled and fluttered her eyes closed, wiping them. Giving herself a few moments, she reopened them and gaped at where Draco and Eliza had been in the boat. The boat was now gone as were the two occupants. All that remained was the rippling water. She dipped a toe in and goose-bumps traveled up her body, causing a shudder to rack her body. Inhaling deeply, she stretched her hands high above her head and dove into the lake.
Recall on all Nimbus 5000s: Brooms Endangering the Riders from Faulty Workmanship
Pursing his lips in intrigue, Lucius read the article and was rather grateful he had not purchased a Nimbus 5000. Not that he needed one. He was much too old to be flying about like a young man again, but Alexander most certainly needed a decent broom and pish-posh to what his mother thought. If the child wanted to fly, then he should be allowed to.
While scanning over the Quidditch section of the Daily Prophet, Mippy appeared next to him with a bow and hastily informed him, "Master, the young Master's mother has awakened."
"Has she?" he asked, vastly rising to his feet.
"She tries to get out of bed but is weak. Limper and Phinny are fetching the young Master's mother some water."
Lucius straightened his robes and walked out of his office, giving Mippy an assignment. "Do alert Healer Bogrov and tell my wife, as well."
"Should Mippy tell young Master, as well?"
"Not yet. He is occupied with his tutor at the moment but do fetch Blaise for me. He should be in the library with Alexander and his tutor. Keep this matter discreet from the boy until further notice."
"Yes, Master." Mippy bowed and Disapparated.
Lucius came to the threshold of Miss Granger's room and knocked on the door before entering and saw the woman lying still but her chest moved erratically up and down and the sheets around her were bunched. Her eyes were heavy-lidded with wetness gathering beneath the bottom lashes above her freckled cheeks which were pinking, a severe contrast to their former paleness.
"Miss Granger, how are you feeling?" he gingerly asked her, journeying further into the room and summoning a chair closer to the bed but keeping a respectable distance.
She turned her head to stare at him, her brow damp and furrowed. Hoarsely, she spoke, "Alex."
"Is fine, but how are you feeling?" he repeated. "Do you hurt?"
He watched her swallow and turn towards the door when a knock interrupted them. Blaise entered and nodded at him. "With all do respect, Mr. Malfoy, I think it would be best if I spoke with her for the time being."
Seeing his point, Lucius sniffed and agreed, "Fair enough," and left the room, his wife standing close to the door, hint of relief in her demeanor.
"Talk to me, Granger," Blaise said after closing the double doors behind him. He sat where Lucius had been and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "How are you feeling? The healer is on his way to check on you, but please tell me if you are uncomfortable in anyway. Do you need anything?"
She let out a harsh, ragged breath and said, "Alex."
"He's in the library and perfectly fine. Misses you like crazy, though."
Her frowned deepened. "Misses me?"
Blaise paused before nodding and stroked his chin, knowing no other way to break the news to her gently. "Hermione, you've been in a coma for nearly a month."
A/N: Thank you readers, reviewers, followers, and such.
Thanks: Anjali Katari, Woemcat, Angelus Draco, Aya Diefair, Meggzy101, hkmac, Jessica682, and Team Dramione for the reviews. I got some lovely feedback. Thanks again.
I got some comments and concerns, especially on how I ended the last chapter. I hope this update didn't upset anyone too much.
Anjali Katari: I agree about how the movies portrayed the war. And though I think the books and films were really cool, as a Slytherin, I felt my House was given injustice. We're not all evil, and I think you commented on that quite nicely. Thank you for the personal touches on your reviews. I truly enjoy reading them. Yours and your parents story is incredible. I truly appreciate your feedback.
Also, I'm glad Ron and Pansy's background story was entertaining for you guys. :) I enjoyed writing it.
Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter. Read and Review, please. I'm sorry for any mistakes. I shall do a clean-sweep in the future but for now, it is what it is.