A/N: Thanks to Cordee, Grovek26 and SereniteRose for their reviews on last chapters. Thanks everyone for the favourites and follows.
Cordee: I remember your review on Halflings many chapters ago and here is what I was planning. :)
*** Five Chapters! Fifty thousand words! Thanks everyone for reading the tedious memories. But they were written in a way to bring forth the ending of this chapter. If you go through them now, you'll understand what will happen in the coming chapters.
Before we proceed with this one, I would like to share some personal feelings.
Writing TPA has been the biggest challenge of my life as a novice writer. I intend to work with real human emotions, truth and the world as we see it now. Beauxbatons is based on my medical school which is famous for its great beautiful campus, lakes and gardens. But the people who live there are the most narrow-minded ones I have ever come across. The teacher, Sotiria Xanthos, is roughly based on my schizophrenic roommate with whom I lived almost two years. I never resent it, of course. We need to learn all kinds of lessons in our lives. Eva is based on my last roommate; Porag, her name was. One of the most marvelous girls I have come across and we enjoyed our small stay in the hostel greatly. She still calls me 'roommate'. If my words sound condescending to anyone, I apologize, for that wasn't my intention.
Acknowledgements:
The song, 'Baby mine' is copyright to Betty Midler's song in the Disney animated movie, "Dumbo".
The prose on Succubus was taken from Wikipedia. Lyon is well known to be a famous place for chocolates.
Well, that's all and you can leave your feedback if you like.
This chapter is rated M.
The Pinterest page has been updated with new images of some characters found in this chapter. Feel free to check it if you like.
Disclaimer: The copyright to Harry Potter characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Any other characters are purely work of fiction and any resemblances are co-incidental.
Chapter 84: Grape of Wrath (Part 4/5 – Finale)
If one saw Draco when the scene shifted and the next memory appeared, they would think he was happy when the death visited him suddenly.
His lips were bearing a smile of revelation for he has finally learned a small but potent truth behind the naming of his only living son, Adrian. He could have disgruntled in disgust for Malfoys were named grand and here he was, a pureblood who had died while saving Muggle kids. But this Malfoy couldn't sneer in distaste; he supported Hermione with heart and soul.
His eyes were slightly tearful. He has realized, for the first time, the deep message behind Apolline's story. Yes, men did live through their works and as long as one soul was willing to fight the darkness inside, evil can never prevail.
But the look those grey stormy eyes bore were of mismatched colours and emotions: a tinge of orange pride for the man who died to save those Muggle kids, a violet of joy that his son was named so thoughtfully, a green of envy that his own namesake was not so worthy - a Greek dark Lord by the name of Draco was he, a blue of pain for he never fully appreciated the wonderful woman who brought this child to this world against every possible obstacle and a red of anger for he wanted to destroy the world and himself for bringing this upon her. No matter how many people he blamed or cursed, the real perpetrator was he, the damned rapist.
Except the eyes and the smile, the rest of his face was a mask, deep agony and remorse etched in its every line. How was he ever going to repent for his crimes? Was it even possible?
The scene reformed itself and Draco found Hermione sitting beside him, their arms almost brushing. He shifted away slightly. His unholy aura should never be allowed to pollute such a pure soul.
He looked at her. She was beautiful and elegant as ever. Those hazel brown eyes, that tiny black mole on her neck, that little smile of sadness, the rings on her dainty fingers and the pearl earrings! Her glow of purity, truth of soul, light of spirit almost blinded him and Draco blinked, his eyes watering. Why didn't he see these things before? What was blindfolding him? The Malfoy supremacy? The pureblood supremacy? But Delacours were a pureblood family too. How come they spotted it and he didn't?
"Dear students!" He heard a sharp clap followed a by female voice and forced his eyes to turn away from Hermione. They were sitting what he assumed in another classroom but this time the teacher was a short and plump witch, her hat askew. A pair of spectacles lay folded over her broad bosom, hanging from a neck cord. Her eyes were like sparkling wine, liquid and happy. She was smiling at her students and Draco wondered if something funny has happened. Immediately he searched for Rebekah, her flimsy friend Chorin, the bulldog girl, the squint girl and the leery eyed man. Maybe they were ridiculing Hermione again.
But to his extreme relief, they were all seated at the front of the class, away from Hermione as if she was some epidemic of plague or Spattergroit. Thanks, Merlin! Draco was ready to do everything to have their venomous fangs folded inside their filthy mouths.
"As Advanced Level Charms students…" the wine-eyed teach began in a happy voice, "…we will be dealing with quite a few difficult Charms this year." She waved her wand and like the Potions class, writings appeared in the air, an invisible hand moving across an invisible blackboard. Draco noticed that the classroom was different from the one he had been previously. It had the same amphitheater configuration but the shape was oval, instead of being round. The walls were painted with various depictions of mythological stories. In a corner, Hercules was fighting with one of the Gorgons; in another, Diana was hunting; Persephone was being carried away by Hades and Helen was eloping with Paris. Draco concentrated on last two frescoes.
In both the cases women were forced to live with the men they didn't love. Wasn't it the same between Hermione and him? He knew that she loved another man but was living with him only for the sake of her son. Was he not imprisoning her through this so called marriage that had no validity except the law and vows? They have never consummated it, not that Draco ever intended to touch Hermione that way without her expressed and full consent but even their souls weren't united by that Sacred Marriage. The rite has just bonded two extreme opposites together for the time being and had no real meaning.
Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was getting increasingly lost in his own thoughts while watching the memories and therefore concentrated on them again.
"We will be doing Memory Charms for next two classes." The teacher was telling her pupils, "It's a very difficult Charm, boys and girls, and I want your fullest attention when I explain you the theory."
Noting the selection of Charm, Draco suddenly turned to Hermione. She was looking straight ahead, with no signs of familiarity with the said Charm on her features. But Draco felt that internally her heart was breaking as she remembered what she has done to her loved ones with that one Charm. She sighed once and turned a page of her opened book. She sniffed twice, rubbing her nose. She closed her sad eyes thrice, evidently trying to fight the inner turmoil. Draco watched her, transfixed, transferred to another realm. What has he done to her! Oh, what has he done to her!
"Has anyone of you ever tried this Charm before?" The teacher asked and Draco noticed how Hermione fisted her right hand on her wand but didn't endeavor to raise it. The excruciating remorse was trying to take his life away now.
"No?" The teacher deciphered the silence of the students well. "No problem. We are here to learn." Draco heard her assure them. "You'll each be given a guinea pig. They have been given some emotional shocks, nothing serious of course, we wouldn't hurt them seriously. They are just not comfortable with cockroaches. Well the real guinea pigs don't care about cockroaches but these ones do because I have implanted a false belief in their minds that cockroaches are actually cats." Her words caught Draco's attention and he turned to her again. The teacher looked extremely amused now. "Your work will be to lift up the false memory I have placed so that they don't get scared by cockroaches. Understood?"
"No, Madame Aprilia!" One girl, as it was expected, cried, "Please! I am dead scared of cockroaches." She recoiled in her seat. Draco was pleased to note that it was same squint girl who had said that Hermione was Dumbledore's mistress.
"That's your problem, girl." The teacher shrugged indifferently. "Edmound!" She called and the man walked in carrying in a few boxes, "Give everyone a guinea pig and a cockroach a piece."
"Yes, Madame Aprilia," Edmound it seemed was being awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class, so gleeful was he. Draco watched as he distributed the guinea pigs and cockroaches among the students. Soon the class was filled with loud cries as cockroaches started to fly to and fro and girls hid under the bench and screamed. But, Madame Aprilia, the Charms teacher was completely unabashed. She stood by her desk as some girls ran out of the class, with Rebekah being the first and Chorin bringing up the rear. After ten minutes, except for Hermione and Eva, there were no female students in the entire class.
"Girls!" Madame Aprilia sighed sadly. Draco wanted to kiss her and Edmound for the brilliant idea. It was so Slytherin! "Okay, everyone. Let's start." She asked rest of the students to continue.
Hermione, like the Gryffindor she was, tackled the cockroaches given to her very well. She just put them on an enchanted sleep. Next she proceeded to work on the guinea pig. Draco was lost in watching her; the woman was near perfect in everything she undertook. She even instructed Eva on how to hold the wand correctly and won a look of marvel from her. Draco smiled. It was such a tender scene. Hermione, her bump in which Adrian slept, her wand, her spell, her sighs, her eyes, her hand on that bump, her glow, her magnified motherhood aura, her entire being, her existence was a wonder to him. How could he not notice it before? How could he even think of laying his filthy hands on her?
After a while, he noted how Edmound wasn't sitting with his sister like in the Potions class. He looked around and spotted him sitting two benches ahead of them. He was glancing at Hermione's direction occasionally. Draco would have disapproved it but in contrast to the leery eyed man's, his was concerned and filled with what he identified as tender care for a pregnant woman. He wanted to frown but couldn't. Edmound was a good man and a rapist like him should not be judging his looks.
Sighing he went back to his watching of Hermione.
"Is everybody done?" Madame Aprilia asked her students after half an hour and when they nodded, she left the teacher's dais to check them. From one pupil to another she placed the cockroaches before the guinea pigs and watched their reactions. In most cases, the guinea pigs recoiled as if they were faced with a live cat. In Eva's case, Draco was somewhat glad that her guinea pig showed no signs of fear. Madame Aprilia came to Hermione next. Draco held his breath when her cockroaches were held before her allotted guinea pig.
The whole class was craning their necks to have a better look of what happened between the unmarried Hogwarts pregnant student and the Charms teacher. Draco was sure Hermione would do fine. She has modified human memory and this was just a guinea pig but then again she was pregnant, a time most witches' Magic was a bit out of control.
Hermione was sitting still when Madame Aprilia roused the cockroaches from the enchanted sleep and set them after the guinea pig. They jumped on the mouse but it simply stamped them under its furry claws and if possible, yawned in boredom, as if wondering what these silly humans were taking it as to present it with some cockroaches.
Draco expected Madame Aprilia to burst out with words of praise but to his dismay, she did none. She just glanced at Hermione once before beckoning her to join her in the teacher's dais. Hermione stood up, wrapped her robe over her bump and obeyed her teacher silently.
Draco held his breath. Was she going to tell her to perform more Memory Charms? Was she suspicious? But no. As soon as Hermione walked to and stood beside Madame Aprilia on her dais, she gave the class a solemn look.
"Everyone." She called her students. Draco noticed how Rebekah, her bloody gang and the other girls filed back into the class, obviously in the hope of some of entertainment from the new drama that was about to unfold. Madame Aprilia however showed no such indications. She was standing there, grave and pretty serious as she went on.
"I believe that you all have heard from your seniors what I do in my first class with the new Seventh Years." She asked and a few of the students nodded. Rebekah frowned. Chorin checked her vicinity for any leftover cockroaches.
"As you must have learned, I give them a task to perform that requires skill, courage and…" Madame Aprilia paused, "…thorough knowledge of the appointed task. In Advanced Level Charms, my dear students, you will not be waving your wands and uttering incantations like you did in O. W. L. level. You'll be learning why you are waving that wand, why you are choosing that incantation and what you will achieve in the end." She turned to Hermione. "Granger, I was told that you had nine O. W. L. s in your previous school. Was Charms one of them?"
"Yes. Madame." Hermione replied politely. Draco expected her to tell her new teacher exactly what percentage of marks she had received in Charms but she spoke no more on that topic.
"Aha." Madame Aprilia nodded, "The headmistress told me that your Charms teacher is a tiny man and he teaches his students by standing on stacks of books?" she raised a questioning eyebrow.
A few students laughed which died out the moment Aprilia glanced at the class. Draco was starting to like this character. She was a different kind of Slytherin.
"Yes, Madame." Hermione nodded, "That is Professor Flitwick. He is the Head of my…old House. The Ravenclaws."
"Okay." Aprilia consumed the information nonchalantly. Next she reached inside her Beauxbatons blue robes and took out a small box. She opened the lid and held it before her class. Everyone leaned forward for a better look. Curious, Draco left his seat and walked to the front of the class.
"What is this Edmound?" Aprilia asked her assistant and he gasped.
"Nostradamus's boxers!" He exclaimed, excitedly. "That's a…"
"A?"
"A!" Others prompted him.
"A Sphinx Feather Quill." Aprilia finished the sentence Edmound had been unable to complete, showing the class a golden feather quill. "I believe everyone is acquainted with what or better say who a Sphinx is. They are the mythical creatures with the body of a lion, the wings of an eagle and the head of a human. They are known to be very treacherous and ferocious and it is thereby very dangerous to try to collect their wing feathers to make quills." She turned to Hermione who was giving the quill a look of wonder. "Sphinx is the symbol of intelligence, courage and power. They are also the masters of riddles. In the assignment that I set you today, no one has been able to do it properly except this girl. Jean Granger from Hogwarts. She used her intelligence to solve the problem but didn't exercise her powers to gain her means. She took care not to tread on the cockroaches or frighten the guinea pig. I hereby give this sphinx feather quill," Aprilia moved the golden feather before the entire class, "…to Jean Granger." She handed the box to a gaping Hermione who looked stunned to receive a gift from her teacher on her first class. "Be it a cockroach or a guinea pig, they are still life forms and she didn't hurt them to the slightest. I appreciate that greatly." Aprilia beamed at her student.
Relieved and extremely proud of his wife, Draco laughed out loud and chapped hard. He expected the students to do the same but except for Eva and Edmound no one clapped for Hermione. Most of them looked disappointed that the rare Quill was awarded to someone like Hermione. Rebekah appeared extremely disdainful and started to play with the strings of her robe. Chorin was telling everyone who would listen that she had ten of those sphinx feather quills in her dustbin. Draco stood before them and frowned at Rebekah. She looked exactly like the eleven years old Draco did when he couldn't bear that Potter was given a Nimbus Two Thousand: jealous and furious. Even his own demon looked so: ugly and angry.
The class dismissed as the bell rang and Hermione with a word of thanks to her teacher went back to her seat. The scene shifted leaving Draco pondering how he looked now.
On the next class that Draco appeared, the room was so bright with flood of sunlight that he had to cover his eyes to protect them. After they adjusted themselves, he squinted from behind the hands.
The previous classrooms had visited were either round or oval with marble walls, golden borders, larger than life statues of notable wizards or moving frescos of Greek legends. This however had none. Instead, rows and rows of high arched windows with stained glasses surrounded him. But instead of paintings, each bore inscriptions on strange languages that Draco guessed was Runes. Finding it rather boring to pour over Runes dictionaries, he himself had never taken that subject while at Hogwarts. He liked Arithmancy more. It was pretty fun to solve the mathematics, not to mention he was regarded cool among dimwitted the girls such as Pansy.
"Thanks Nostradamus they are not making a racket here." Eva's voice spoke and coming to his senses, Draco turned right. There they were, Hermione and Eva, sitting side by side. The former was adjusting her heavy spectacles that hid her brilliant eyes; the latter was reading the morning issue of the Wizarding Herald and scanning the class for any sign of disturbances from behind the lookout of pages.
"It's alright, Eva." Hermione said, opening her second hand Ancient Runes book and checking the table of contents. Her neat hands were strangely beautiful against the yellowed pages. "I don't mind even if they do it. I told you, I know what I am and what my baby is." Her confidence was unnerving. "Besides, when they will see that I am not reacting as they want to or complaining about them, they'll get bored and move on to another topic." She said matter-of-factly. Draco, however, couldn't agree whole heartedly with her. He knew from his own experiences of ridiculing Hermione that bullies always get desperate to yield the bullied person react in any way.
"I don't think it's that, Jean." Eva said, her blue eyes still roving on the students who were chatting among themselves. "I think it's the reputation of Madame Sotiria Xanthos that precedes her. She is Monsieur Xanthos, the Potions teacher's wife and said to be the strictest teacher in entire Beauxbatons." She informed a calm Hermione. "No one dares to make a sound in her class."
"Even better." Hermione said, her eyes fixed on the page she was reading. "I am here to study, not to make enemies or create nuisances."
Draco shook his head sadly. How strange that those who wanted to avoid nuisances always fall prey to it all the time? He waited for the reputed teacher to arrive. He remembered Madame Maxime telling Fleur that the Ancient Runes teacher was heavily against Hermione's admittance in Beauxbatons. He was curious to learn who the crook was.
The woman or better say the being who entered the sunbathed classroom two minutes later was the most intriguing Draco had been presented with till date and he has had the good fortune of having a half goblin, a centaur and a ghost as his esteemed teachers.
Madame Sotiria Xanthos was so pale that Draco first thought she was transparent. She was tall and very thin, almost like a pale skinned skeleton. Under her unusually white skin, blue veins were prominently visible. Her sharp blue eyes both complimented and accentuated it. Draco wondered if her husband ever cared to check on her diet or advised her for some tanning. Maybe that was the reason the classroom was flooding with sunlight. She would be teaching and tanning simultaneously.
"Bonjour." Her students stood up and greeted her. She just nodded stiffly in response. Draco suspected that under her Beauxbatons blue teaching robes, the spine might be too delicate to actually allow her to nod properly.
"Ancient Runes." She spoke after five minutes of intense scrutiny of the class, leaning against the teacher's desk like a frail doll. Draco noted how she didn't care to welcome her new students as if they were obliged to have her in their presence. "I believe that you are already familiar with the subject. Therefore I am not going to waste my time in explaining its contents to you." She paused. Draco thought if she was out of breath already.
"In your Seventh and final year, you'll be fine tuning your knowledge of this subject." Madame Xanthos's voice was high pitched and almost pierced Draco's ear drums. "I have here a prose written in Runes. This is your class work for today." She patted on a stack of neatly bound parchments. "You will be given three quarters of an hour to check the dictionary and shake your brains to compile me an English or French version of it. After the allotted time is over, I'll check them, here in the class," she pointed an index finger down to the floor, "and discuss the mistakes. Is that clear?"
As everyone nodded and a piece of parchment containing the said prose neatly landed before them on a wave of teacher's wand, Draco thought it was pretty boring. He wondered why Eva gave this memory to Audré. It seemed that nothing was wrong with the class. No ridiculing. No leering. No back talks. Not even a glance at Hermione's direction. That Sphinx Feather Quill seemed to have done its job and no one was teasing Hermione anymore.
But as fifteen minutes passed and sounds of quills scratching on parchments continued, Draco started to notice a sudden stir among the students. Rebekah and Chorin were smirking as if the prose contained something very amusing. The others were similarly delighted. The squint girl was writing frantically. The bulldog girl was sucking the tail of her quill as it was a bone. Even boys were whispering among themselves. Suddenly the classroom was bursting with barely contained excitement.
"Yes?" Madame Xanthos said when a girl raised her hand.
"Madame, is there any reason that you set us this prose?" She asked her, gleefully. Madame Xanthos didn't care to reply but Draco was sure there was one. He leaned over Eva's writing but it was almost bare except for a few unfinished lines. Annoyed, he checked Hermione's next. Her prose was done and placed inside her Rune dictionary. She was sitting with both her hands on her bump, extremely silent.
"Hermione? Hermione? What's it?" Draco's heart was beating fast now as a foreboding feeling engulfed him. Something was wrong! Something was terribly wrong!
"Everyone done?" Madame Xanthos asked suddenly. Draco turned to her. She waved her wand and all the pieces of parchments rolled themselves, soared in the air and landed neatly on her desk. "Okay, let's check your works." She said and opened a book.
"The prose I gave you was on Succubuses." She said, her prominent blue neck veins engorging. "If translated correctly it will be something like this:" she cleared her throat.
"A succubus is a female demon or supernatural entity that appears in dreams and takes the form of a human woman in order to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. The male counterpart is the Incubus. According to legends, repeated sexual activity with a succubus may result in the deterioration of health or even death."
Draco fisted his hand. Now he understood. The bloody bloodless woman was humiliating Hermione indirectly. The class however hung to her every word as she read from the Ancient Runes book.
"A succubus might take a form of a beautiful young girl to seduce men. But on closer inspection they may reveal deformities upon their bodies, such as bird-like claws or serpentine tails. Legends also describe that the act of sexually penetrating a succubus as akin to entering a cavern of ice, and there are reports of Succubi forcing men to perform cunnilingus on their vulvas that drip with urine and other fluids."
A few girls mimed vomiting while others made disgusted sounds.
"Yuck!"
"Ugh!"
But their teacher read on.
"In some legends, a succubus took the form of a siren, the predecessors of the Veelas."
"I told you so!" Chorin cried in glee but the esteemed Madame Xanthos didn't even glance at her.
"According to the "Witches' Hammer" written by Heinrich Kramer in 1486, a succubus collects semen from the men she seduces."
"Ugh…ugh…"
"I think I am going to be sick."
"The incubi or the male demons then use the semen to impregnate human females, thus explaining how demons could apparently sire children despite the traditional belief that they were incapable of reproduction. Children so begotten are called 'Cambions' and are supposed to be those that were born deformed, or more susceptible to supernatural influences."
"Nostradamus!"
"This is disgusting!"
"The book does not address why a human female impregnated with the semen of a human male would not produce a regular human offspring, although after transferring the male semen to the Incubi it is believed the semen is altered to match the genetic material of the Succubus and the Incubi before being transferred to a human female host. But according to some Viking lores the child is born deformed because the conception was unnatural."
Madame Xanthos finished her reading and looked up. The class was making loud retching sounds around her.
"Ugh!"
"Yuck!"
"Disgusting!"
"Despicable!"
"That girl is a succubus!"
"She'll have innocent boys lick her cunt!"
"Throw her out!"
"Class!" Madame Xanthos called for an order. Everyone became silent immediately.
Draco stood by Hermione his nerves on fire and his heart, ice. The insult and unfairness of it was cutting him into pieces, skinning him alive and the realization that he had brought this upon Hermione made him incapacitated with guilt and shame. He wanted to burn everything, kill everyone, destroy every creation but the list started with him. Had he not raped her, she would never become pregnant and forced to leave her family and friends behind! Had he not touched her, she would never have come to this blasted school on the first place. When he was the biggest perpetrator how could he blame others who just carried forward his legacy of humiliating Hermione?
"Your works will be graded and returned to you on the next class." Madame Xanthos's words reached his ears but Draco didn't care. He was finally shown the real mirror.
As a roaring class left the classroom he slowly turned to Hermione. She was still sitting like a statue, her hands on her bump. Eva was eyeing her with great apprehension.
"Jean?" She poked her cautiously but Hermione didn't reply. For a split second, Draco thought she was dead but then she stood up suddenly and stormed out of the classroom, leaving her books and bag behind.
As an alarmed Eva picked them up the scene shifted again, bringing Draco to the next memory.
He hadn't moved a muscle since the last one but he recognized the place he was brought to: Hermione's room in the Bellefueille Maison; but in contrast to his last time here, it was daytime now.
"Jean?" He heard Eva's trembling voice. She was leaning over a lying form on one of the alcoves. The said form was Hermione and she was…
…. writhing.
"Nostradamus! Aunt! Matron! It's the Cruciatus!
It was Eva's panicked cry that finally unfroze Draco and with a pained and concerned yelp, he lunged on them.
"Hermione? No! Hermione?" he sat beside her and looked around wildly for help. She was lying on her left, her eyes bulging and red, curled up into a ball and writhing in silent but excruciating agony. The scene was so painful that Draco thought he'd prefer to die than be forced to watch her like this.
"Dame!" Eva cried again and ran out the room. Next moment Dame Peronélle burst into the room miraculously, with Eva and another elderly woman bringing on the rear.
"Quick, give me some cold water. She needs to be cooled down." The hospital matron checked Hermione's pulse and said, "No! Don't move her." she warned Eva who was trying to detangle Hermione's arms from around her knees, "It's not physical pain, it's mental. She's extremely upset and turbulent inside. It must be taken care of or the baby may be affected."
"No! No! No! NOOOOO!" Draco cried in anguish and slumped on the ground. In Hermione's eyes he saw his moral death and defeat. "No! Hermione! No! Please! Please!" But exactly what was he pleading and to whom he pleaded to was unclear. He knew that Hermione has been through this and survived. Then why was Draco's heart breaking with every moment that she endured the pain.
"Kill me, Hermione! Kill me!" He fell on her feet but didn't dare to touch them. "Kill me and be done with this damned soul. Why? Why? Why? Why didn't you let me die in that Fiendfyre? Why didn't you let me die?" He dissolved in tears.
Yes, he preferred death now. Pure, white death. It was thousand times better than watching Hermione die instead. He wished that it came and took him but no! Like life, death has decided to leave him burn in his own pit of fire.
"Pour water on her head and sponge her. Careful, be gentle. Tell her it's alright. Tell her that her baby is fine and she'll survive." The matron's instructions finally got him and looking up Draco saw the trio working diligently to comfort Hermione. Eva was sponging Hermione's arms and legs. Dame Peronélle was pouring water on her head and whispering into her ears. The matron was checking the baby.
"He's fine, Jean, he's just fine." She told a vacant looking Hermione. "Cool down, dearest. Cool down. We are all here and we love you and your baby. Okay?"
Hermione breathed in and blinked.
"I have checked on his heart beat. It's good. Almost 140 beats per minute. The Cruciatus couldn't affect him. The mother took the entire blow on herself and saved the baby." The matron told Dame Peronélle, "This woman marvels me. I have never seen such bondage between a mother and her baby."
Nor has Draco who was listening intently. Yes, Hermione has saved Adrian. In every way, in every manner that a person could be saved. She was his mother and his father. Every drop of blood that ran in that boy's vein was a gift from her mother, every pore on his skin cried for Hermione. Adrian was, is and will be Hermione's son for Draco has done nothing except for providing the sperm in the most derogatory manner: rape.
He sat beside her feet for there was where he thought he belonged to. Slowly, she went to sleep leaving everyone to ponder what had caused the sudden attack of Cruciatus.
It was then that Eva recounted the events of the Ancient Runes class. When she finished, Dame's features were most grave and the matron's: most disgusted.
"Peronélle, I am going to report this to the Ministry." She said resolutely. "This is not a laughing matter. It's not medically possible to give Jean Granger any painkiller that can relieve an excruciating pain like Cruciatus. The baby could have died in this attack. Even the mother. How dare she ridicule her?"
"I agree but Sotiria practically didn't do it directly." Peronélle said grimly. "She was just teaching her students. She never implied that Jean was a Succubus and that's what she's going to tell the Ministry officials if we sue her. I think I will discuss the matter with Olympe and tackle her differently."
"But aunt, what if Jean suffered from more attacks with each of those classes?" Eva asked, white and tearful. She smoothed Hermione's hair. "I am worried for them." she glanced at her bump.
"Don't worry, dear," Dame assured her with a gentle smile. "There is no reason to believe that your aunt is less clever than Madame Sotiria Xanthos." She patted on Eva's back. "But remember, Jean Granger is not an ordinary woman and nor is her baby an ordinary baby. They are both strong and proven fighters. Life is not meant to be a bed of roses, dear and I have a feeling that they both will survive this war against inhumanity."
Listening to them, Draco felt strangely tranquil. Yes, they would survive. Hermione and Adrian; they would survive this war against inhumanity. He glanced at Hermione. She was sleeping now and he wished that she didn't have more nightmares. She looked tired but peaceful. As always, one of her dainty hands was covering her bump, her precious baby, their precious baby. Adrian.
Draco drew his knees closer and hugged them. He felt lonely and tired but relieved that Hermione was doing well now. He buried his face on his knees and the scene shifted again. But he didn't open his eyes. He wanted to listen first.
He heard a low hum. Someone was singing. A spoon clanked and fell on the floor. Someone tsk'ed and picked it up. Then there was sound of running water and footfalls approaching towards him.
"How are you feeling, roommate?" It was Eva's gentle query and following it, Draco finally looked up.
"I am fine." Hermione's tired voice replied. Draco was afraid to look at her. Even his gaze was unholy and impure. But his heart cried to know how she was and he glanced at her very cautiously.
Hermione was still clad in her school uniform, her straight hair tousled and features pale, as she sat up with much difficulty and propped against the pillow. Eva was sitting before her, holding a small bowl of something that was smoking.
"I made some chicken soup for you." She declared brightly, showing Hermione the contents of the bowl. "Maman gave me some chicken broth cubes. I scrubbed a cauldron, lit a fire, poured some water into it and made or better say brewed this chicken Potion for you. I have tasted it. It's okay."
"Chicken Potion?" Hermione couldn't help but laugh and coughed a little. "Did you give Sopophorous beans or Jobberknoll feathers too?"
"I gave some shredded chicken, pasta feathers and broccoli beans." Eva replied confidently, as if such ingredients existed in reality. She handed Hermione the bowl and spoon. "Eat."
Draco was immensely relieved when Hermione didn't argue and silently accepted her meal. Eva watched as she drank her soup in silence and after a while, she smiled.
"It's very good." Hermione said approvingly. "I think we should have that Potion included in our Curriculum." She frowned as if remembering something suddenly. "My books, Eva! I left them in the class!"
"Relax Jean," Eva held up a hand, "I brought them all back. Your spectacles must have fallen off when you left in hurry and you didn't notice. João found them and returned it to me."
"Really?" Hermione checked for her spectacles, looking highly embarrassed that she didn't notice her spectacles were missing. "Who is João by the way?" She asked once Eva handed them to her and she put them on.
"João. João Tróyes. The guy who sits with Rebekah and her filthy gang. The one who keeps looking at you but doesn't comment." Eva replied, looking very uncomfortable, "He's the captain and Seeker of the Portuguese National Quidditch Team. A very strange guy if you ask me. I don't why but he makes my skin crawl." She said in evident distaste.
Draco sat up straight now. So the leery eyed man's name was João Tróyes and he was a Seeker of his national team. Pretty interesting!
"Same here." Hermione confessed, finishing her soup rather fast by her previous standards, "Do you have more?" She asked Eva. "I don't know why I am so hungry suddenly."
"Of course I have. I made an entire cauldronful." Eva said happily and almost snatched the bowl from Hermione's hand. She returned in two seconds with another bowl of steaming hot chicken soup. "Here."
"Merci." Hermione thanked her. "I don't know what I would have done without you, roommate."
"It's alright, roommate." Eva smiled. Draco watched them as they chatted. It seemed that they were already feeling comfortable with each other and addressing each other as 'roommate' rather than their given names.
"Do you want to report against Madame Xanthos?" Eva asked Hermione after a while. "Everyone knows what she meant by that bloody prose of hers." She curled her lips. "Vampire! Bitch!"
"Eva!" Hermione cried softly, "Don't you ever use those words for a teacher! They are our second guardians."
Draco shook his head and clapped on his forehead. After all, this was the great Hermione Granger he was dealing with. Who was he kidding actually?
"But she humiliated you in public!" Eva was evidently taken aback by Hermione's response. Her voice was stunned.
Hermione tsk'ed. "No, Eva. She didn't insult me. She insulted herself. Yes. I admit I was hurt but not because she implied that I was a succubus. I was hurt because they said that my baby will be deformed. That was what I couldn't take so easily." She sighed. "Listen Eva. Today Madame Xanthos proved that the sadists are those who should be pitied most. Why? Because they don't know what love is, how honour and respect is to be earned. I can report her but that way she'll succeed in her mission of hurting and humiliating me which I am not going to let her have the pleasure of. Let her do whatever she likes. I am here to take care of my baby." She said firmly.
Had Draco not known that it was Hermione, he would have thought it was mad man's delirious talks. But he knew Hermione was different, special and unique. She couldn't be wrong.
He watched as she finished three bowls of soup and a glass of milk sent by the Dame. She burped slightly and then left the bed to change into her night clothes.
"Reckon you can go home in this state tomorrow?" Eva asked, unsure.
"Of course, I can." Hermione replied from the bathroom. She came out after a while, clad in her white night gown. "I am full. My baby is full. Now Mama and her rabbit are going to lie down, sing and sleep. Okay, little rabbit?" She asked her bump.
Draco was sure Adrian must have nodded.
"Little rabbit?" Eva repeated as Hermione combed her hair and came to sit beside her on her bed.
"That's my baby's pet name." She said, rubbing the bump fondly. "Little rabbit. He's my little rabbit." Draco checked her face. There was no sign of resentment on it. Hermione was smiling serenely; she truly loved her baby, something that was as universal as the sun, moon and the stars.
Eva laughed. "I guess that's million times better than what I was called." She told Hermione, "Little mouse." She wrinkled her nose and replied to her questioning look.
"Okay, roommate. Good night." Hermione lifted her hair and lied on her back, "Little rabbit, say goodnight to aunt roommate." She turned left, placed the thin comforter and said.
"Goodnight little rabbit and sweet dreams inside your maman." Eva waved at the bump. She stood up, left Hermione's private alcove and readjusted the silk curtain to cover the opening completely.
Draco sighed, leaned on his joined knees and closed his eyes. His heart was filled with pain and remorse but no matter where he looked there was no escape, no respite. Death wouldn't take him and life wouldn't let him live. Where should he go? What should he do?
He heard a voice hum slowly but didn't open his eyes. It was Hermione. She was singing to her baby.
Baby mine, don't you cry.
Baby mine, dry your eyes.
Rest your head close to my heart,
Never to part, baby of mine.
Draco has heard many songs in his life but none were this touching and mournful. Hermione was no professional singer but her voice was melodious enough to bring life into that slow song. With each word, with each note of music, he understood that she was pouring her heart to her baby.
Little one, when you play,
Pay no heed what they say.
Let your eyes sparkle and shine,
Never a tear, baby of mine.
Draco imagined a happy Adrian running and laughing, chasing his mother in the garden or trying to save an owlet from being eaten by a big bird. Yes, his grey eyes have sparkled, they have shone. His mother's words never went in vain.
If they knew all about you,
They'd end up loving you too.
All those same people who scold you,
What they'd give just for the right to hold you.
Draco listened and wondered what would happen if all those who once called Adrian an illegitimate child were now presented with the boy? There would be some who'd still insult him but there would also be others who'd understand how special this one baby was.
From your head down to your toes,
You're not much, goodness knows.
But, you're so precious to me,
Sweet as can be, baby of mine.
Draco was sobbing when the song ended. He knew that the memory must have ended too but he wanted to hold on to the last vestiges of that enchanting song and to Adrian, the baby of Hermione and to some extent, of him.
It was the sweet chirping of birds that broke his somnambulant state next. The air was cool and lightly fragrant with the scents of exotic flowers.
Draco breathed in wishing that it was his last breath. But in a tiny corner of his heart, the song vibrated, keeping his hopes alive, hopes of a new day with his family. Yes, he was miserable. Yes, he has cried like a baby but his own tears were like a drop of dew that fell on an ocean of tears Hermione had shed in all those years. If she could keep her morals up, why couldn't he? Was he going to be defeated so easily?
Draco looked up and wiped his tears away. No. He wouldn't be defeated. No. His monster couldn't be allowed to win. His salvation was standing before her. Hermione was her name. He would reach her no matter what and be free from the burdens of his enslaved soul.
When he blinked next, two people came into view. Hermione and Eva. They were standing beside a marble fountain, its water sparkling like seven colours of rainbow in the glow of a new born sun.
"The Fountain of Youth." Hermione said, her head slightly tilted as she followed the directions of the many coloured water with her bright hazel eyes. "Does it really heal and beautify?"
"I don't know." Eva shrugged. "But legend says that Atlantes the Great had a similar stream in his own Iron Palace. He drank its water to keep the Ages from touching him, just like Nicolas Flamel used the Philosopher's Stone to extend his life for six hundred years. He gave all these gold that you see in Beauxbatons because he had met his wife Perenelle here."
Draco stood up and walked to Hermione. She was on her casual clothes, a small beaded bag hanging from her wrist. It was the same he had seen her to use while doing her shopping in the Ruelle Les Halles. He wondered if the bag in which she had kept her possessions and hid under the stairs in her grandma's house was somewhat same.
"Jean! Eva!" A man called them and Draco's musings broke. He saw Edmound as he came running to them and halted just an arm's length from Hermione.
"I thou…ght…you…left…alr…eady..." He was panting heavily, and leaned forward to recover his breath. Eva and Hermione exchanged confused looks. Draco frowned. Was Edmound here to show more Jobberknoll feathers or mermaid scales?
"I was on my way to the Grand Floo Chamber." Hermione said, "I would've left but Eva said that the Fountain of Youth looks its best in early morning. So we stood here for a while." She explained and checked her wrist watch. "So what's it now? Some new snake you collected?" She asked him evenly.
"No…" Edmound shook his head, still panting. "By the way, Orlov, my viper is completely harmless. He wouldn't hurt a fly." He straightened up and stated proudly.
"Yeah…yeah." Eva nodded, as if it was the biggest joke she has ever heard. "You said the same about the tarantula you brought home last summer and the harmless eight-legged thing finished off all the flies and cockroaches in our house within a week."
"That's because that is what spiders eat." Edmound retorted defensively. From the depths of his travelling cloak, he took out a large box wrapped in brown paper and held it before Hermione. "I had to go to Lyon for this. They make it only in Lyon." He offered the package to a very cautious Hermione. "Oh come on, Jean, it's not tarantula."
"What's it then? Milk of Venomous Tentacula?" Eva snatched the box instead and rocked it beside her ears. A muffled sound of small pebbles thrusting against each other came out. "Dried Eye of eels?" She said uncertainty.
"No." Edmound said, snatching up the box from her tight grasp and thrusting it to Hermione's hands. "It's Bouga Cocoa Nibs." He declared. "Helps when in pain. I have seen it with the animals. When they are in pain, they eat Cocoa beans. Jean obviously can't eat Cocoa beans. It's very bitter. But Cocoa Nibs are fine. They are roasted and blanched Cocoa beans. She can sit in a corner and nibble them and the pain of the curse will subside greatly."
"Edmound, I really appreciate your thoughts but Jean is not an animal!" Eva cried in desperation. "Nostradamus!" She threw her hands in the air, "Why did I ever tell you that Jean had that attack last night?"
Edmound's face fell. "Believe me, Eva! I didn't mean to offend her. I was just trying to help."
In the midst of the heated argument, it was Hermione's expression that drew Draco's attention. She staring at the box Edmound had given her unblinking, her eyes slightly lost and tearful.
"You know what? I am tired of you and your absurd love for animals!" Eva was screaming at Edmound now. "You did whatever you liked. I never stopped you. But there is a limit to everything. Giving animal food to a pregnant woman? Enough is enough!"
"It's not animal food! How could you say that?" Edmound cried. "It's human food and it's found only in Lyon. The shop was closed when I reached there this morning and I had to wake the owner to buy some for Jean because you told me she had great pain last night."
Eva was about to retort like a berserk kettle when Hermione placed a hand on her shoulder. She stopped and looked at her roommate, skeptic.
"Edmound," Hermione called the distressed man gently, "You went to Lyon for this?" She shook the box slightly. It rumbled again.
"I did." Edmound replied, looking very downcast. "I am sorry, Jean if I have offended you. I am sorry for what happened on the train. I am sorry for trying to feel your bump that day in the Potions class. I know I am not a good man. I am a nuisance." He hung his head.
"Who said that you are a nuisance?" Hermione was crying and smiling now, her face happy and red, "Oh Edmound! I didn't mind at all. In fact I am touched that you went to Lyon for me! I don't think anyone here would have done that." She unwrapped the package and a large box of Cocoa Nibs came out. "You have a good heart, Edmound. You really do!"
"I do?" Edmound looked as if the Christmas has come early this year. Hermione nodded.
"You are doomed, Jean!" Eva sighed but smiled nonetheless. "Now you'll be getting Owl Treat, snake soups and all kinds of weird food that is on this earth every morning."
"I think I'll live with that." Hermione said confidently. "Edmound reminds me of Hagrid. He is the Hogwarts game Keeper, you know. He once brought home a dragon egg and it hatched in his hut. The baby dragon burnt down half his hut but he still wouldn't let go of it. He named it Norberta."
"Dragon egg?" Edmound's eyes were shining like polished diamonds, "Nostradamus! I have always dreamt of having one of those." He said, fascinated.
"See?" Eva gave Hermione a knowing look and shook her head but Hermione shook it off.
"Edmound," she turned her face to him, "Do you want to feel my baby? He's moving now."
"MOVING?" Edmound's scream pierced Draco's ear drums and he covered his eyes. "You want me to feel him?" He asked, as if not believing his own ears.
"I do." Hermione replied solemnly. There was not a speck of discomfort on her features.
"OK, right…what should I do?" Wild with joy, Edmound plunged his hands into the Fountain of Youth and rubbed them furiously. He took them out, dried them on his robes and offered the right one to Hermione. "Here."
Draco's heart burst with jealousy as Hermione firmly grasped Edmound's wrist and placed his palm on her bump. "Do you feel anything?" She asked him after a while.
"Yeah…yeah…" Edmound had a lopsided grin and said breathlessly. "It's like a baby gnome is trying to get out of a cauldron."
"Merde!" (Shit!) Eva swore loudly in French but Hermione laughed. She looked so happy and lovely when she laughed like that, as if nothing has happened. Draco smiled. He just loved to see her laugh like that.
The scene shifted leaving him longing for more of that tender moment between three most unlikely people. He understood now. Friendship couldn't be made to happen; it was like love. It just happened with the person ones heart felt to be close with. But he had to admit to himself the truth. Friendship or not, he was jealous of Edmound. Maybe it was the Malfoy blood. Besides, some old habits were hard to let go.
When the memory reformed, he was standing in the Delacour's kitchen. Having been there for a couple of times now, the place was feeling quite like his own home. It was strange, considering the fact that he had never fully liked the Delacours. Alexis was the name of a bad sore on his eyes. Apolline was too bossy to be likable. Gustave was fine but Draco thought he lacked proper Wizarding pride. And he has never fully paid attention to Gabrielle. How cared about Veelas?
But after his last time with them in the supper table when Apolline recounted the story of her brother, Adrian, he felt that a veil has been shifted from before his eyes and he was, perhaps for the first time, seeing them in a newfound light. The Delacours certainly weren't a detestable family.
His well practiced eyes immediately scanned the place for Hermione. But she was absent from the table on which a weekend breakfast was laid. The Delacours were seated around it, enjoying a late and leisurely breakfast. Draco's eyes roved on all of them. There was Bill Weasley, sitting in a corner and trying to learn French from his sister in law, Gabrielle. He was having trouble in pronouncing a French 'R' and earning amused snorts from his wife. Gustave was reading the morning newspaper and sipping coffee. But it was Alexis who marveled Draco. He blinked twice to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
Alexis Delacour, a fully grown man, was making a braid on Fleur's long silvery hair.
"I just love my brother." Fleur turned her head sideways and doted on him. Alexis silently straightened her head and continued combing and making the braid.
"Yeah. He spoiled both of you." Apolline snorted and with her words, she finally came into Draco's view.
"We did miss you in our wedding." Bill said taking a break from his painstaking French lessons. "Fleur told mum and dad that you were busy with the Wizarding elections."
Alexis sighed sadly. "That is one of the down sides of working as the Minister's Advisors, Bill. In France, we have an election in every seven years and the entire ministry becomes hysterical as it approaches. I told the new Minister, Francois Guizot that it was my sister's wedding and I must attend but he just wouldn't let me go. He says he can't go a day without me."
Draco snorted. Really? Was he that important?
"That's because my brother is the best." Fleur said proudly. "Alexis, when will you be promoted to be the Junior Undersecretary?" She looked up at him again.
"I don't know, dear." Alexis straightened her head firmly. "But that's immaterial. I don't work for promotion. I work there because I love it."
Draco thought that in his words he found Hermione speaking her mind. She also worked because she loved it and not like Draco who did it to prove himself or earn.
"Mother, aren't you going to follow Hermione today?" Bill asked as Hermione came down, peeped into the kitchen and waved them goodbye with a smile. Draco saw her leave through the main gate, donning the black and blue modest dress.
"No." Apolline replied, her eyes twinkling mysteriously. "I wanted to and I will be doing it from next week but not today."
"Why not?" Bill frowned slightly.
"Because today is her 19th birthday." Apolline declared dramatically. "On Nineteenth September."
Draco wanted to kick himself for his foolishness. How could he forget that? Hermione's birthday! He had been in one they had after their marriage. Even Hermione told Madame Caron that she would be turning nineteen in a few days.
"Did she tell you about it?" Bill asked, looking very skeptical. "Her own birthday?"
"Oh Bill!" Fleur cried impatiently, "You think 'ermione will tell us about her birthday?" She tried to shake her head but Alexis held it firmly. "One of the elves overhead her singing the birthday song in the bathroom this morning. Something like ''appy birthday to me…'appy birthday to me…'. She was singing and crying. He informed maman immediately and she made a marvelous plan." She said happily. "We are going to surprise her with an English style birthday party this evening."
Draco shook his head and smiled. The Delacours truly were an amazing family. There was no doubt that Hermione loved them so much and Adrian called Apolline and Gustave his grandparents. They have earned that place in their hearts.
"I am a bit worried that she went to work in this state." Bill said, his demeanor thoughtful once he digested the news about Hermione's surprise birthday party. "I have wanted to help her financially but I know she will not take the money."
Alexis swept a glance at him. "I thought that my brother in law was well acquainted with the famous English proverb – 'where there is a will, there is a way.'."He said. Bill locked his eyes with Alexis. Draco watched as both men communicated silently through their eyes. In the end, Bill slumped back in his seat, smiling serenely.
"Okay Alexis, dear, hurry up." Apolline said, "We ladies have a lot of work to do if we want the finish the party arrangements before Jean returned home. She can't be allowed to suspect anything."
Everyone nodded and there was a great sound of shifting chairs as the male Delacours plus Bill stood up and filed out of the kitchen one by one. As Apolline called her daughters to help her in baking an English birthday cake, the scene dissolved.
Draco was visited by a sense of déjà vu when the next memory came into being. Just like his first time in these memories, he was standing in the Delacour's garden. In the hiatus between the approaching evening and departing afternoon, the western horizon was glowing. The air was heavy with the loud chirping of birds as they returned to their nests on day fall. Draco smiled remembering his own words on giving Hermione her nest. Yes, there would come a day in near future when Hermione, his bird of hope and innocence would return to her nest, her home that Draco would give her on occasion of Adrian's birthday. But before that he needed to cleanse himself of the taints of crimes.
He looked around. The Delacours and their son in law, all clothed in their best formal attire, were standing in the garden, and waiting for Hermione. The only difference from the previous one of the same kind was the presence of a spacious table laden with every kind of dish imaginable and possible. It seemed that Apolline was left no stone unturned to outdo herself this time.
The main gate creaked and moved slightly. The Delacours exchanged smiles as Hermione, looking dead tired, slipped in. Her hair was slightly tousled and her body, carrying the weight of a six months old baby, slightly slumped. She walked to them, her eyes looking down, letting her feet propel her automatically. But even in that state, to Draco who was her avid admirer now, she looked wonderful in the late afternoon light.
"Surprise!" A loud cry issued from the Delacours startled her and Hermione looked up, momentarily distracted.
"Happy birthday Jean!" Gustave said, smiling broadly. Following his words the rest of the family sang out the famous song that has overcome the barrier between Magic and Muggle.
"Happy birthday to you..
Happy birthday to you…
Happy birthday…happy birthday…
Happy birthday to you…."
Everyone clapped for Hermione and Draco found himself clapping the hardest. "Happy birthday Hermione…happy birthday." He whispered.
What happened next was a complete jumble of feelings. Hermione burst into tears and laughed out loud at the same time.
"Aunt! Uncle! How do you…" she lost her speech as her tearful eyes scanned the table and found a three tier cake waiting for her. It was frosted in white with patterns of colourful tomes plastered vertically, giving it the look of a spiral bookcase. "It's…I…don't know…" she broke off when Fleur went forward and hugged her.
"Come ''ermione, let's cut the cake." She comforted her and a tearful Hermione burst into fresh tears but nodded nonetheless.
While at Malfoy Manor, Draco has had many grand birthday parties himself but he had to admit that none were as pleasant as the one he attended in that memory. Hermione was exceptionally happy when she cut the cake with Apolline and Gustave. It seemed that she had a habit of crying when she was happy for her tears never fully stopped. The Delacours then sat down and enjoyed the hearty meal together. It was a time for family with no grand speeches, Minister of Magic or such extravaganza. The small party was cozy but comfortable, modest but generous in all human aspects. Draco couldn't admire more. How he had never known the simple little joys of life!
The Delacours it seemed was very well prepared with their plans and birthday presents. Gustave and Apolline gave Hermione a maternity kit containing various Potions to heal backache, foot ache associated with carrying the extra weight of the baby and a few other ailments. Gabrielle gave her a new pair of earrings. Fleur did justice to her name and fame and presented Hermione with a home spa kit.
"I want you to use it regularly 'ermione." She told her. "You were awfully plain at Hogwarts. In Beauxbatons, Seventh Year girls take care to look their best." To Draco that explained why Hermione was suddenly endeavoring to put on makeup no matter how light it was.
Alexis gave Hermione a pair of new shoes.
"I hope you will not begrudge me for giving you that." He said very calmly, glancing at Hermione's shoes once she opened the box to reveal a light blue pair that would go well with her school uniform and casual clothes. "I know it's not a common birthday gift but I also noticed that your feet were hurting with that one."
Feeling like slapping himself hard, Draco looked down at Hermione's shoes. The brown pair she was wearing were torn and mended in many places. He had been in this memory for quite a while now and he, the biggest arrogant brat that ever walked on this planet, never cared to notice them until now when Alexis brought the issue up. What a shame!
As a slightly sobbing Hermione thanked everyone profusely for the party and the thoughtful presents they gave her, Bill came forward and knelt before her.
"Hermione," he took her petite hands into his big and strong ones. "I am sorry but I don't have any presents for you today." He confessed, looking embarrassed. Draco frowned. If he remembered that look the brothers in law have exchanged in the kitchen that morning then Bill's claim was not very believable.
"Oh no, Bill!" Hermione cried softly and shook her head, "I don't need anything from you or anyone here. My baby and I, we have your love and support and that's all we want. Who could have thought that I will find a wonderful family here in France?" She beamed at the Delacours.
Bill smiled. "But I have something for my little nephew who I heard is due in January." He took out a satchel and placed it on table beside her. It jiggled heavily and Hermione frowned at it. "The baby has the most amazing mother in the world that no money can ever give him." He said solemnly. "She's brave; she's strong and has a very high sense of self esteem. She'll never bow down before injustice or be preferred to be pitied. She'll fight till the end. The baby has so many things to learn from his mother." He squeezed her hands gently. "It pains me to think that I'll not be here when he is born. I don't think I'll be able to manage it with the goblins. But my blessings are here, in this five thousand galleons that I give him so that his mother can stay at home and nurse him for a little longer and don't go out to look for money. It's a small gift for the baby, Hermione, whose biggest gift is his mother."
"Bill!" Hermione rasped, a lone tear escaping the boundaries of her already red eyes. "No, please!" she begged.
"Hermione, it's not a favor." Bill said fervently. "I would never dream of doing that to you. I know what you are capable of. With that brains, you could've rolled in the galleons if you wanted to. It's a gift for the baby so that he can have his mother by his side for a little longer. Plain and simple. Please accept it. Please!" He implored.
Draco who had never seen poverty or been forced to accept its cruelty, could see in Hermione's eyes the internal battle she was going through. She needed that money desperately but her self esteem stood on her way.
"Hermione, please." Bill said again. Not for once did he look at the galleons or took his eyes off hers. "It's for the baby."
A long moment of silence followed but she didn't nod or answer. Draco knelt down before her and examined her closely. She looked lost and contemplative.
"Bill," Hermione said after a while, her features calm, "If you really want to give my baby something, give him a godfather, one who is responsible, one who'll save him from the…the man who did this to us…one who'll look after him like his own son if his…mother couldn't make it…" she closed her eyes and looked down, hugging her bump protectively.
Draco's heart broke for the thousandth time since entering the memories.
"No…Hermione…no…" he shook his head and cried in agony. It was almost like watching Astoria die but more painful. "….no…you'll not…" he paused and gasped, "…you'll make it till the end…you are my Hermione…my last hope…last chance…and you are a fighter…a survivor…you'll not die…you'll make it…Hermione…I know you will."
"Hermione," he heard Bill's solemn and deeply assuring voice. "If there is one thing I know and I am sure of, it is that there exists no force in this world that comes between a mother and her baby when they want to be united; not even death or destiny. Such strong is this bond; bond of love, bond of trust, bond of pain and bond of your blood that flows in his veins." His words made Draco look at him with great respect.
"Our Hermione will live and so shall her baby. That's the destiny she wrote for them. As for her wish to have a responsible godfather for her baby, there is no higher honour for me, William Arthur Weasley, than be a godfather to Hermione Jean Granger's son. I accept it gladly on this day which is nineteenth September of the year 1998." He took out his wand and placed the tip over his heart. "I vow to protect my godson, take care of him and regard him like my own son in all manners." He said and the tip of his wand glowed as a Wizard's Oath was made. "This I vow upon my name, my honour, my strength and my magical powers. From this moment, William Arthur Weasley is godfather to Hermione Jean Granger's son."
A gentle breeze blew and the leaves rustled. The scent of the flowers intensified. The day departed slowly and the night came. Everyone moved. Everything vanished. The memories came to an end but Draco sat there as if completely forgotten by time, place and people.
Audré had never been more correct. These memories were the most unique of all he had ever seen. Here in these twenty three ones that Draco has witnessed, he has literally lived, died and resurrected, cried, smiled and reborn. He had been through every human emotion that was possible: love, tenderness, compassion, courage, patience, empathy, anguish, anger, fear, remorse and remissions, and last but not the least realization. Pure, raw realization.
He came out of Pensieve, tired but strangely empty and burdened simultaneously. His crimes were lying before his eyes, jeering at him, making faces and asking what was next. He felt suffocated under their continued pressure. But heart was beating one name: Hermione…Hermione…Hermione...Hermione. It gave him hope. It gave him courage to fight the destiny. It gave him a new path, a new identity, a new Draco Malfoy.
This Draco was introspective. This Draco was contemplative. This Draco could look past old prejudices. This Draco could accept the truth.
This Draco could make sacrifices. This Draco could be what he has never been: a free Draco.
This Draco was Hermione's gift.
This Draco started with Hermione and ended with Hermione.
•••••
Audré came out of her en suite bathroom and sighed. After the last therapy session with Hermione, hosting Draco's doppelganger Dominique's visit and taking care of her ill nephew, she could hardly stand properly now.
She walked into her bedroom. As always her bed was made in the most comfortable way. Her personal elf, Zilek has taken care of that.
She glanced at the bed and wished she could sleep tonight. It would be such a wonderful respite. But sleep has always proven to be an alluring game and wouldn't visit her neither tonight or any other nights, she knew it.
Drying her hair with a towel, she went to the enclosed balcony. She had always loved this feature of the Château - its many balconies. One could stand there and have a good view of the gardens, the orchards and even the private Quidditch pitch. She would spend the night here, watching the stars and reminiscing the sweet past.
Audré leaned against the balustrade. The place was her home for almost half a century now but strangely she felt foreign here. Her heart, her soul lay in another place with another man.
"Let me take care of that." A deep voice whispered into her ears. Audré closed her eyes and smiled. He has come. Her man.
"Remember when you were pregnant with Julian?" He asked her, taking the towel from her hand and starting to dry her hair. He came closer and recognizing his gesture, she leaned back on him. "You were getting quite big and couldn't reach your hair to dry them yourself?"
"Uhum." Audré nodded.
"And you wouldn't let the elves dry it too?" His voice was a caress to her ears. He knew where to punctuate and emphasize properly.
"Uhum." Audré nodded again.
"I used to dry your hair." He moved closer and inhaled in her wet hair. "You are still emanate that aquatic scent. The scent of my Audré."
"I used to do it on purpose." She told him with a sly smile. "Even on my eighth month with Julian, I could reach my hair but I wanted you to dry it for me."
"Women!" He sighed softly.
The minutes dragged by with him drying Audré's hair gently. She closed her and let him take care of her.
"There goes our nephew." His words suddenly broke her trance. Opening her eyes, Audré saw Draco as he walked to the Apparition Point in the garden and disappeared.
"Jean told him to not leave the Château after dark." She told her husband, slightly annoyed. "I am not going to cover for him if he gets caught again."
"Don't worry, dear." He purred into her ears. "It was bound to happen after he finished watching the first set of memories. He had to go. He has a lot of work to do in next few days."
"That surely could wait until the morning." Audré said firmly.
"It couldn't." Morpheus said calmly. "Want to know where he is off to?" he asked her. Audré didn't reply. She knew he would tell her nonetheless.
"First he'll go to that werewolf facility and meet the Chief Researcher, Henri Descartes." Morpheus said.
"Again?" Audré cut in, slightly alarmed. "Is something wrong, Morpheus?"
"No." He replied solemnly. "Draco is going to make a will tonight. There he'll explicitly state that the first person to receive that Lupus Serum he is helping to synthesize would be Bill Weasley."
"What?" Audré blurted out and turned to face her husband.
"Not only that, my dear." He was smiling mysteriously at her, "Tomorrow he'll go to England with a very special purpose." His smile broadened.
Audré waited for more.
"He'll meet an old enemy, an old acquaintance and an old lady. After that, he'll visit an old and forgotten dungeon, an old cottage and an old Beech tree."
Audré gaped at her husband, stunned.
"Finally, my dear wife," Morpheus deciphered her expression very well, "…from the ashes of the past a new Draco has born."