Authors Note: I apologise profusely for the length of time it took me to get this out, but a combination of mild writers block coupled with very little free time due to other commitments resulted in the extensive delay. Thanks for bearing with me however and also to my beta who has made this readable. I hope this chapter has been worth the wait. I'm posting it in Word format as is scrambling the formatting of HTML files, in the hope it won't be changed.
Chapter 7
"So you see, there's absolutely no way James and I can do it alone," Isabel Winterton stated, staring hard at Hermione from across her leather-topped desk. "There it is, I'm afraid—"she gave an eloquent shrug, "—sad, but duty calls." She then leaned back in her swivel chair, regarding the younger woman imperiously.
Hermione took a deep breath and mentally counted to five before looking up at the older woman, exasperation evident on her face. "I've told you, I can't make it. If you had given me some prior notice, I could have organised a babysitter to look after my daughter, but as it is, I really can't help you." There was regret in her voice as she spoke.
"Can't?" Isabel echoed her lip curling with distaste. "May I remind you, my dear Hermione, that you're a senior healer, and as such, your work commitments have to come before all else – even your family obligations. You cannot expect to attain such a well respected position without sacrificing something along the way."
"I can appreciate what you're saying," Hermione countered in a falsely calm voice, "but I don't have a choice in the matter. There's no one to look after my young daughter. Unless you propose that I leave her alone to fend for herself this evening, I can't help you with the experiment." She tried hard to keep the note of annoyance out of her voice, but her patience was starting to wear thin.
There was a pause as Isabel glared at Hermione. Then as though coming to a decision, she asked, "What if I make arrangements for someone to look after the child for the evening? Will you then consent to helping me?"
"I'm not—"
A loud knock interrupted Hermione's words and the attention of both women was drawn to the door.
"Enter!" Isabel called, and the door was pushed open to reveal a smiling James Sanderson.
"It's all ready," he beamed, stepping into the room and closing the door. "All that's needed now is to do the tests." He rubbed his hands together in glee, grinning at the two women looking back at him.
"There's a slight problem," Isabel informed him acidly, "Hermione can't be there due to her family commitments!" She placed a heavy note of scorn on the last two words, making Hermione wince.
"Not be there?" James repeated blankly. "Hermione you have to be there to help us – your hand's the steadiest of the lot of us, and we all know that a steady hand will be needed when placing a drop of the potion between the cervical and thoracic parts of the spinal chord."
"If we can manage to do it," Isabel said dreamily, "Merlin, what a breakthrough that will be! Imagine how many people will benefit from the treatment!"
"Yes," Hermione agreed miserably, her hands clasped in her lap, "I'd love to be there, but—"
"Yes, yes, we know," Isabel snapped. "There's no one to look after your child!" The dreamy quality had gone from her voice and she once more glared at Hermione.
"I'm sorry about that," Hermione apologised. "I would have loved to…" she trailed off as an idea slid into her mind.
"Thought of someone to take over the babysitting?" James asked, watching her face eagerly.
"Well, maybe…." She prevaricated while she waged an internal battle with her mind.
"Excellent!" Isabel cut in enthusiastically. "Why don't you go and make the necessary arrangements with whoever it is, and in the mean time, James and I will go over the methodology of the experiment. We must ensure that there're no flaws that may bias our results."
"But he may not…" Hermione tried to explain, but Isabel cut in once more.
"If you impress the importance of this experiment on him, he'll be sure to understand. Now go on, there's no time to waste." A now brisk Isabel smiled and hustled Hermione from the office out into the quiet corridor beyond. Her earlier mood of reproach had disappeared and she was all eagerness once more. Clearly this experiment meant a lot to her.
As the door of Isabel's office snapped shut behind her, Hermione turned and made her slow way down the corridor thinking hard.
She desperately wanted to be part of the group conducting the experiment. She had been thrilled when Isabel had approached her to join James and herself in the testing laboratory later on. Hermione knew they had been working on the potion to re-grow damaged parts of the spinal chord for some time now. But to be there when they carried out the tests! She had caught her breath with excitement. That was until she had remembered that there would be no one to look after Aurora that evening. Her parents were currently in Geneva at a conference given by the Swiss Dental Association. Molly Weasley was unwell with the flu. She had then turned her mind to her friends, but this too had proved disappointing. Ron and Harry were both away on Auror business, and Ginny with the aid of Mr Weasley, was nursing her mother. Hermione bit her lip, facing the fact that if she really wanted to be part of the medical team witnessing the miracle that may be taking place later on, she would have to swallow her pride and ask Draco Malfoy for help – she had no other choice!
Reaching the busy reception area of the hospital, she enquired of the young smiling receptionist whether Mr Malfoy was in the building. On being informed by the giggling and blushing girl that he was, she turned on leaden feet, and with a heavy heart, made her way to his spacious office. Upon reaching his office, she knocked the door in the hope that he wouldn't be there. She really didn't want to talk to him right now and as for asking him for a favour… she shuddered at the thought.
A frowning Draco Malfoy opened the door, and on seeing his caller, he smiled broadly.
"Ah Hermione, come in," he invited, standing aside and gesturing for her to enter the large room.
With a sinking heart, she stepped into the room and hoped that she wasn't making a mistake in what she was about to do.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said awkwardly, glancing at the desk and the scattered rolls of parchments littering its surface.
"Not at all," he smiled and ushered her into a chair. "How are you? I'd planned on coming by your office once I'd finished this," he waved at the littered desk, "but you beat me to it."
"I'm fine," she answered absently, watching as he seated himself opposite her. Then stiffening her resolve, she continued, "Actually, I need a favour and was wondering if you could help."
"Well, I guess that depends on the favour now, doesn't it?" he drawled, leaning back and regarding her thoughtfully, a smile playing about his mouth.
"I was wondering… if its fine with you, I mean… if you could babysit Aurora this evening. That is, if it's convenient… but it won't be for long – until about ten pm or so," she gabbled, nervous about making the request, "After all, you were suppose to come round anyway, and I thought that perhaps—"
His smile grew broader, and leaning forward, he interrupted, "Of course it'll be fine to babysit my little princess for the evening, how could you think otherwise?"
"Look," she snapped, a sudden irritation rising within her, "I'm only asking you because there's no one else available tonight. Believe me, if I had a choice in the matter I wouldn't be here at all." She clenched her hands in her lap once more wondering if this was a good idea. Was being present at this evening's experiment really worth allowing Draco Malfoy to spend time all alone with Aurora?
The smile vanished from his face to be replaced by a look she didn't want to put a name to. "No, that's quite clear from your past actions," he clipped, eyes narrowing, making her stomach sink, "but we won't go into that now. What time do you need me to be there?"
"Around 7:30. I'll make sure that Aurora's in bed so you won't have to do anything," she replied quickly, not looking at him.
"Your generosity astounds me," he drawled sarcastically. "Purely out of interest, what's so important that you have to change your plans for this evening?" His brows furrowed as he studied her intently.
"It's an experiment that Isabel and James intend carrying out," she explained, relieved that she was on safe ground once more, "they've been working on a potion that will regenerate the damaged parts of the spinal chord in paralysed people."
Draco nodded briefly, "Right, sounds interesting. I hope the experiment's a success."
"It certainly will be a breakthrough for Hanwell's if it succeeds," she reflected. Then, as an awkward silence descended on them, Hermione took the opportunity to leave Draco's office before more could be said.
How she had hated having to ask him to spend time alone with Aurora! But frankly, there was no other option open to her – not unless she was willing to miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity. She promised herself as she hurried back to her own office that Aurora would be asleep by the time Draco arrived in the evening. She would make sure that Draco had minimal contact with her precious daughter.
XoXoXoXo
A silence pervaded the room as the three Healers watched the prone figure of the young boy lying on the narrow operating table.
"Two minutes," James breathed into the tense silence, "all being well, it should take two minutes to work."
Hermione and Isabel nodded, each with one eye on the wall clock that ticked away the seconds. The silence was deafening, as the three healers stood in the brightly lit operating theatre, nervousness evident in every line of their postures.
The Medi-witch standing at the head of the table monitoring the patient's breathing and heart rate was also tense, as she too, stared at the clock, hardly daring to breathe.
"Three, two, one!" Isabel counted tensely.
There was another silence as they all stared down at the figure lying still on the table between them. He was motionless, apart from the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
"Time to wake him up," Isabel said in a hushed voice.
Leaning forward, James pointed the tip of his crystal wand at the boy and muttered, "Enervate."
A groan escaped the young boy, and opening his eyes, he stared up at the three adults surrounding him.
"Well, has it worked then?" he asked groggily.
"Try moving your left hand Tom," Isabel told him conversationally, while watching the boy's left hand avidly.
"Won't do no good," Tom objected stubbornly, "You know I can't move me useless fingers. Don't see no point in tryin'."
Hermione bit her lip with compassion at the forlorn tone in his voice. Clearly he for one did not believe that the experiment had worked.
"Come now," Isabel encouraged patiently, "just try! That's all we ask."
There was a pause in which all parties stared down at Tom's thin and wasted left hand lying beside him on the table, the muscles having lost a lot of their strength due to lack of usage. Then slowly, the fingers twitched slightly. The movement was almost imperceptible but it was nevertheless there.
"Blimey!" A shocked Tom gasped, "Did'ja see that? I moved it! I moved it!"
"Yes!" James cried, dispelling the tension in the quiet operating theatre, "I do believe it's worked! Tom, try and move the other hand this time."
Everyone stared at Tom's right hand, which after a moment of intense concentration, twitched, making Hermione who was holding her breath gasp.
"Oh my god," she grinned, "We've done it! We've done the impossible and the nerves have been regenerated."
"Oh my!" The young Medi-witch exclaimed, tears in her eyes.
"Well yeah," Tom said hesitantly, "but it's takin' me a while to move me hands – I mean that ain't suppose to 'appen is it? I thought it were suppose to 'appen instantly like."
"Well," Hermione reassured, smiling down at him, "your brain isn't used to sending messages to your arms and legs, so it's taking a bit longer. After all, it's been two years now since your accident."
"So it'll get easier?" he enquired, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Yes, Tom, it will get easier!" Isabel confirmed, and Hermione saw that there were tears in the older woman's eyes.
The next ten minutes were spent coaxing Tom to try and move his arms and legs, which he did with many grunts and loud exhalations of breath. Finally, when he was tired out, James called it a day and Tom was borne away by the grinning Medi-witch back to his ward.
"I don't believe we did it!" Hermione beamed, as they put the operating theatre to rights once more.
"Well you'd better believe it, because it's true!" Isabel smiled back, her eyes shining in the dim light of the theatre.
"Months and months of preparation and experimentation on other creatures has finally paid off!" James crowed as he gathered up the potion sample they had used. Of course Tom will need extensive physiotherapy to rebuild his muscles, but at least his nerves are working again."
In less than half an hour the operating theatre was cleaned, after which James and Isabel retired to their offices to write up the evening's experiment. Hermione smiled in satisfaction as she prepared to depart. Walking down the quiet corridors, she marvelled again at what they had managed to achieve. She was still smiling as she reached the grounds and Disapparated to appear a split second later in the quiet hallway outside her flat.
Inserting her key in the lock, she unlocked the door and let herself into the quiet flat. A single light was turned on in the hallway and a strip of light was visible beneath the door to the sitting room. She felt some of her euphoria fade away as she crossed to Aurora's room and pushed open the door.
Aurora's night-light was throwing a dim shadow over the darkened room and Hermione could make out the shape of her daughter lying curled on her side, her cheek pressed against the head of a teddy bear. Her duvet was tucked securely round her small form. Not wanting to disturb the sleeping child, she shut the door quietly and crossing the hall, pushed open the door of the sitting room to see Draco seated at the large coffee table with papers spread out before him.
He looked up as she entered the room and asked, "How did it go?"
"Very well," she smiled, "The experiment was a success. The patient will be facing months of physiotherapy, but he'll soon be able to walk again."
"That's indeed good news," Draco replied, caught up in Hermione's zeal.
"I hope Aurora didn't give you any trouble tonight."
"None whatsoever, she's a perfect angel. She woke up at around eight, but I read her a story and she was asleep again in less than ten minutes." He began to tidy up his papers as he spoke.
"Thanks for stepping in like this at the last moment," she said, crossing to the small kitchen and filling the coffeemaker with coffee granules and water, then plugging it in to boil.
"It was no trouble at all," he replied. With a flick of his wand, he reduced the rolls of parchment before him and put them into his pocket.
Hermione became conscious of the fact that Draco had moved to lean against the fridge watching her.
"Why do you cook using muggle appliances?" he asked suddenly. "Surely it's much easier to conjure up a cup of coffee than go to all this hassle in making it?" He indicated the quietly bubbling coffeemaker as he spoke.
She took her time pouring the steaming fragrant coffee into a pot before answering. "It may be easier making coffee with magic, but I've been brought up doing things the muggle way and the habit's stayed with me."
"What, even after all these years?" He queried taking the laden coffee tray from her, carrying it into the sitting room and putting it down onto the now clear coffee table.
She said nothing as she poured out coffee from the pot and handed him a cup. Finally, when she was settled with a coffee cup in hand, she looked at him. "I enjoy doing things the muggle way," she shrugged. "It gives me a sense of purpose. Conjuring up a cup of coffee… the effortless way a cup of coffee appears somehow lessens the experience… that's to say – this is really hard to explain, but I always feel a certain lack of appreciation for something easily obtained because there's so little effort needed in getting it. Besides, there's something about cooking that appeals to me more than simply making food appear with my wand."
She sat back, wondering why he was asking her these questions. Putting aside her natural distrust of him, she considered that his questions might be a result of curiosity and a genuine interest in her lifestyle. His next question, however, caused her to regret her generosity as her expression hardened in suspicion.
"So tell me, is Aurora always encouraged to find solutions in muggle methods too?" He drawled leaning back in his chair eyeing her over the rim of his cup.
"Naturally," she answered stiffly, her senses on red alert. "She's too young to cast her own magic, and there's simply no need for her to rely on magical means for every little thing. I mean, while it might be simple for me to spoil her with magical toys or even to conjure up her meals by magic, I'd rather she learn to do things herself and not rely on magic to accomplish the simplest of tasks."
"Of course you're right," he nodded in agreement, "Aurora's too young to cast her own magic." He pursed his lips and added carefully, "Nonetheless, Aurora is descended from one of the most powerful wizarding families in Europe, and as such, should not only be taught the value of magic and wizarding ways, she ought to be comfortable with living with magic—"
"Well I fully disagree!" Hermione cut in, anger starting to take hold of her insides. Face flushing, she added, "Aurora's perfectly fine the way she is, thank you very much! She doesn't need people like you to impose their antiquated values on her."
At her heated words, Draco sat back, surveying her through narrowed eyes. Coolly, he countered, "There's nothing wrong with knowing more about magic and how it can make one's life simpler. Whether you like it or not, Aurora is a Malfoy, and as such, she should be brought up to appreciate her magical heritage."
'Magical heritage, eh? Is that what he calls his pureblood rhetoric nowadays?' Hermione thought bitterly. She felt her fingers tighten on the handle of her coffee cup and hastily set it down on the table before her.
Taking a deep breath knowing that she had to control her anger, she began in a steely voice, "I can assure you that Aurora is being brought up with sufficient appreciation of who she is and good moral values. It's indeed unfortunate that fifty percent of her genes come from you," she bit out sarcastically, "and if I recall correctly, I didn't have a choice in that little matter. What I do have a choice in, though, is the way I choose to bring up my daughter. How I choose to bring her up, I assure you, is something I take very seriously. I will not allow some bigoted spoiled brat to teach my daughter to grow up thinking that she is some aristocratic princess to whom everyone else on this planet must grovel as they are all beneath her notice!" The ice in her voice conveyed her anger plainly. All her earlier elation was completely gone, leaving her with the familiar feeling of anger and worry clutching at her insides.
Draco, by now simply holding on to a single thread of his composure, retaliated, "Well, my dear Hermione, while I'm glad that you've made your feelings about me perfectly clear, you're forgetting the little fact that Aurora is as much my daughter as yours. She has every right to—"
"Mummy?" The small voice made both adults swing round to face the door, which was pushed open by a sleepy Aurora. "Mummy, you're back!" The small girl exclaimed, coming into the room and padding across to her mother who immediately picked her up.
"Darling, what are you doing awake?" Hermione asked, looking into her daughter's sleepy face. Aurora's curls tumbled about her shoulders as she curled up in Hermione's lap. Her pyjamas felt cool against Hermione's skin and looking down, Hermione saw that they were made of silk. She felt her heart sink, knowing that she had dressed Aurora in her favourite Shiny Show cotton pyjamas before putting her to bed. Draco must have changed her clothes once she had gone off to Hanwell's! What was he up to? Trying to assert his paternity? Well, not if she had anything to say about it!
Trying not to let her shock at Aurora's change of sleepwear show, Hermione looked up at Draco, whose earlier discomposure had been hidden behind a calm façade, as he watched mother and daughter as they greeted each other.
"Mummy, where did you go?" Aurora asked, looking up at Hermione and blinking away the sleep from her eyes.
"I was working darling," Hermione answered, tightening her grip on the child. "Now what're you doing awake at this hour, young lady?" she added in a falsely bright voice.
"I woke up and when I heard you talking, I came to see you," came the prompt response. Aurora smiled up at her mother, her eyes shining.
"Well, it's high time you went back to bed," Hermione smiled in return, determined not to let any of her anger show in her expression.
"Oh mummy, please let me stay up for five minutes? I'll go to bed then, pwomise!" Aurora cajoled, winding her arms around Hermione's neck.
In an effort to distract her mother, she went on, "Me and uncle—"
"Uncle and I," Hermione corrected automatically, disentangling Aurora's arms from about her neck.
Aurora ignoring the interruption, carried on, "We were talking about Daddy, and I told him that my Daddy had died in the war."
Hermione felt every muscle within her tense, and mustering a smile asked, "Oh?"
"Uncle said that if I was lucky, I might get a new Daddy!" she gabbled, her eyes shining. "Oh mummy, can I have a new Daddy please, please? Uncle said that he would be my Daddy, but that you wouldn't like it and—"
"No!" Hermione almost yelled, startling Aurora, who stared up at her with a confused expression. "No, this has gone too far! First the pyjamas, and now this – you can't do this, you can't!"
She glared at Draco, who simply shrugged in response. "I can't?" he smiled infuriatingly, "Have you never heard of the adage, 'All is fair in love and war', Hermione?"
"Not when it concerns my daughter!" she snapped back, silently cursing the tears that had sprung to her eyes. "You're using an innocent child for your own twisted nefarious purpo—"
It was Draco's turn to glower, his eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, anger radiating from him. "If I were you, I wouldn't complete that sentence," he warned. "You've made it perfectly clear earlier today that if you could help it, you wouldn't let me have any contact with my own child. It's been over a week now since I found out about her existence. A week, I might add, in which I've played by your rules. And for what? The sleep inducing charm you put on Aurora before I got here is testament to the fact that you want me to have as little contact with my own flesh and blood as possible!" He took a controlled breath and carried on,"I was willing to do this on your terms, but not if you're going to thwart me at every turn. If things continue as they are, I'll be forced to use other measures to ensure a bond between me and mine."
Hermione was shocked at the look of determination on his face. By the sound of it, he was letting loose a week's worth of pent-up frustration.
Both adults seemed to have forgotten the presence of the wide-eyed child sitting silently, her gaze travelling from one to the other.
Hermione sat back, unconsciously tightening her arms around Aurora. Breathing deeply, she controlled her temper to avoid letting the situation get out of hand. "Look," she finally began, looking across at a still seething Draco, "I'm sorry you're feeling like this, but it's only been a week. You can't just expect to walk into our lives like this after all these years and expect me to… to totally change my lifestyle so that you can fit into it!"
The sound of a swiftly stifled yawn brought the attention of both adults back to Aurora, who was struggling to stay awake in order to listen to the conversation.
"Aurora, it's time you were back in bed," Hermione turned to her daughter, relieved for the distraction, "Come on."
"Oh, but Mummy—"
Getting to her feet, Hermione made to heft Aurora up into her arms, but Draco moved swiftly across the room and effortlessly scooped Aurora up. He carried the little girl back into her room with Hermione following close behind him.
"My little princess," he murmured, tucking her back into bed. "My beautiful one," he brushed her curls behind her ears, "go to sleep now." He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but refrained. Instead, he bent down, bestowing the already half-asleep child with a kiss on her forehead.
"Will you be here when I wake up?" Aurora asked sleepily, looking adoringly up at him.
"Not this time Angel," he replied, regret evident in his voice. "Now be a good girl for Mummy and me, by going to sleep." He bent and kissed her once more.
Hermione observing this interaction, could not help but frown with unease.
"Well, erm," she began hesitantly, "Aurora, it's time to say good night to Uncle."
"Good night Uncle," Aurora sighed, turn on her side and closed her eyes. At this, Draco straightened up.
"It's ok, I'll see myself out," he shrugged, not looking at Hermione, but moving towards the door with his jaw set.
"I—" Hermione started awkwardly, not knowing what to say next.
"We'll talk soon," he cut her off brusquely, as he left the room. A moment later there was a faint click as the front door closed behind him.
Hermione turned back to the bed, and without preamble asked, "Aurora, why did Uncle change your clothes?"
Aurora turned towards her mother and gave her a huge yawn. Evading the question, she shrugged her shoulders and replied, "Oh just because." She tugged the teddy bear she had been cuddling earlier closer to her and made to turn over. Hermione couldn't help noticing the teddy bear was one of those that Draco had bought her, and once again cursed him silently.
"There must have been a reason," she persisted, sitting down on the side of the bed and turning Aurora back to face her, "Come on now, tell me."
Aurora, recognising defeat, sighed, "Well, I woke up and you were not awound. I was hungwy, so Uncle said he'd make me some warm milk. He didn't know I followed him into the kitchen so when he turned awound suddenly with the glass of milk, he spilled it all ower me! Even Tiggs got wet! Uncle used his wand and cleaned Tiggs all up! I think he wanted to scor-gi or scor-something me, but I said I didn't want that brushy thing to scwub me."
He used magic to make the milk? And magic once more to clean up? The nerve of that man! "And then what happened?" Hermione asked, "What did Uncle do?"
"Uncle said I had to change my top because it was all wet and sticky. I didn't want to change because I was still sticky with the milk. So Uncle said I needed another bath to get cwlean again. He took me into the bathwoom and gave me another bath. Oh Mummy! It was bwilliant! Uncle made all these big bath bubbles and me and uncle played with them." Aurora's eyes widened in remembrance, her sleep temporarily forgotten.
"He bathed you again?" Hermione could feel her muscles start to tense.
"Oh yes, and it was weally fun!"
"Then what happened?" Hermione interrupted, not wanting to hear any more about the fabulous bath time.
"Well, Uncle dwessed me in these clothes. I weminded him that he had to dwy my hair before I slept – and silly Uncle! – Did you know he doesn't know how to use the hair-dwyer? Well he used his wand again, and dwied my hair. After that Uncle wead me a stowy and then I went to sleep."
Hermione almost sighed in defeat. Talk about being undermined at every turn. No doubt he'd bought the pyjamas with him in the hope that they could be made use of. She could see that Aurora was beginning to tire, so she kissed the sleepy girl, tucked her in, and dimmed the night light, before leaving the room and leaving the door ajar.
Damn Draco Malfoy! she fumed, making her way to her own room. 'All's fair in love and war', eh? Well, 'Desperate times call for desperate measures'! She had a lot of serious thinking to do and cursed Draco colourfully as she too, got ready for bed.
XoXoXoXo
Hermione stared up at the building before her. It was large and imposing, with many large windows looking out onto the wide road. Taking a deep breath, she slipped through the revolving doors and approached the reception desk, her heels clicking on the polished floor of the reception area.
"I'm here to see Mr Briggs," she began nervously.
The receptionist who looked as though she wasn't a day older than eighteen, reluctantly put down her fashion magazine and gave her an appraising look, which took in Hermione's lightly made up face, knee length black skirt and white blouse, and hair pulled back into a neat bun, before glancing down at the appointment book lying open before her.
"Name?" she grunted not looking up.
"Hermione Granger," Hermione replied, starting to feel slightly nettled at the girl's obvious boredom.
"Oh yeah, he's expecting you." The bored receptionist thumbed over her shoulder at a row of lifts and carried on, "Third floor."
"Thank you." Walking quickly over to the lifts, the metal work of which shone in the sunlight pouring in through the glass front of the building, she jabbed the button with an impatient finger, and stood back. After a moment, the doors to the lift nearest her slid silently open and she stepped into the small cage. She hoped that she was doing the right thing as she rode swiftly upwards.
In no time, the lift doors were opening and Hermione stepped out onto a thickly carpeted reception area. This floor, unlike the bustling lobby, was quiet. The carpet, a deep blue, blended in tastefully with the lighter blue and white furnishings, creating an impression of opulence. She knew that this floor housed the best solicitors and barristers in the country.
Moving forward, she approached a desk at which an older woman sat, writing busily on a memo pad.
"Ah, you must be Hermione Granger," the woman looked up and smiled.
Hermione guessed the stylish lady's age to be in her late forties or early fifties. A pair of rimless glasses perched on her nose and her grey-flecked hair was cropped very short.
"If you'll follow me, Mr Briggs is in his office." She led the way down the corridor and stopping before an oak door, knocked before opening it and standing aside to let Hermione in.
"Ms Granger is here," she informed the be-suited man who had been seated behind the large mahogany desk in the centre of the office, and who now came forward, hand outstretched.
"This is a pleasure indeed," Mr Briggs purred, shaking Hermione's hand. Behind her, the door closed with a soft click.
"Have a seat," he smiled, ushering her into a chair by his desk.
Hermione sat down and tried not to look as nervous as she felt. Glancing round the room she saw it was large. Bookshelves, on which stood many thick leather-bound volumes, lined the walls. In one corner, a drinks cabinet stood, the dark polished wood gleaming in the light from the large windows, which looked out on to the back of the building.
Seating himself, the solicitor smiled across the desk at Hermione saying, "I don't know about you, but I'm not one for formality. Please call me Peter; may I call you Hermione?"
Smiling stiffly, she nodded.
"Now," Peter smiled in assurance, "What can I help you with today?"
Clasping nervous fingers in her lap, Hermione looked into the kindly eyes of the solicitor seated before her and took a fortifying breath. "I understand that you advise on wizarding as well as muggle law," she said, trying to sound calm.
The man opposite her frowned slightly, his eyes widening. "Let's say for a moment, that your supposition is correct," he commented guardedly, "What of it?"
"I need some advice regarding wizarding law," she leaned forward slightly, "And was hoping that you may be able to help me."
Peter Briggs nodded, "May I presume that you're a witch, Hermione?" he asked tentatively, his dark eyes watching her shrewdly from beneath thick straight dark brows.
"Without a doubt," she nodded, "a witch… of muggle descent."
"In that case, what can I do for you? I must admit it isn't often that wizarding folk arrange to see me using muggle methods."
She smiled, "No I don't suppose they would. I thought this would be best as I don't want certain people in the wizarding world to know I've been seeking legal advice," she trailed off into silence, wondering how next to proceed.
Peter Briggs nodded, "I see." Then to dispel the young woman's obvious nerves, he ventured, "Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself before we go any further? I find it often helps my clients to give me a little background to themselves before we talk about the case. However, before we begin, let me assure you that nothing that is said in this room will leave it. Anything we discuss here today is confidential and will not be divulged to any third party unless with your prior consent." To reinforce his words, he pulled a wand out of his breast pocket.
Understanding his intentions, Hermione quickly withdrew her own wand from the pocket of her blouse. Leaning forward, Peter touched the tip of his wand to Hermione's. She watched as a thin stream of bluish light rose from the point at which the two wands had met and recognised that he had just performed the vow of secrecy which ensured that he could not divulge a word of their conversation to anyone without first obtaining her consent.
"There," he smiled, pocketing his wand, "I hope that puts your mind at ease. Now then, tell me more about yourself. It doesn't have to be related to the case at all – your likes and dislikes, family, that kind of thing would do."
Hermione sat back and started to tell him of her parents, of her discovery of the wizarding world, and briefly of her time at Hogwarts.
"So you know the esteemed Harry Potter," Peter stated with interest. "Go on then, which career path did you embark on after Hogwarts?"
"Healing, I trained at St Mungo's."
"When did you transfer over to Hanwell's?" Peter asked, making Hermione's eyes widen.
"How do you know…?"
"To be honest, I recognised you as soon as you entered the room," he smiled, "Although I wasn't sure you were here in the capacity of muggle or witch. Hermione is not a common name, and paired with Granger… well, let's just say that you're a celebrity in your own right. After all, Healer Granger is often featured in the pages of the Journal of Mediwizardry. I must apologise for keeping my own counsel regarding your background; often, in my line of work, I need to know the people behind the names that appear in the media."
"But you're a Solicitor working with muggle cases – hardly someone who would read the Journal of Mediwizardry," Hermione frowned.
"True," he nodded in agreement. "But I'm also a solicitor who happens to have a sister training to be a Medi-witch at St Mungo's. She often leaves her journals lying around the house and that's where I've seen your photograph. My sister has quite a few of your articles as well – part of her required reading for her current module of study. My wife and I often hear your name in conversations with her."
"Oh," Hermione muttered, slightly embarrassed. She hadn't realised that some of the articles she had published were on the reading lists of trainee Medi-staff.
"Now that I know a little more about you," Peter carried on, "let's cut to the chase. What can I help you with today?"
Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to speak, the words coming out stilted at first, but as she gained confidence, they came with greater ease. She spoke for a good five minutes and when she had finished, sat back watching the man opposite her nervously.
Peter sat for a long moment staring down at his desktop, his brows furrowed in thought. Finally, he lifted his gaze and looking Hermione squarely in the eyes, said, "What you're asking Hermione, is not impossible by any means, but you must be aware that it could backfire on you."
"Yes, I am aware of that," Hermione countered swiftly. "Please Peter, it is very important that the biological father of my daughter must be stopped from seeing her. The man's trouble and a bad influence – and believe me, that's putting it mildly."
"It's a shame that you have no evidence of the rape," the solicitor mused. "That in itself would have the desired effect to your advantage."
"Well, apart from my memories, which as we both know would be inadmissible in court, there's no clear evidence available," she conceded.
"What I'd like to know," he pondered, "is what he had hoped to gain by drugging you and then raping you. It just doesn't make any sense."
"I gave up trying to understand the logic behind it all years ago," she replied, shrugging, "We – that is, my family and a few close friends – had assumed it was an act of vengeance or mischief, but since Aurora was born, we've stopped speculating on him, and focussed more on Aurora. The reasons didn't really bother me until he reappeared in my life. I mean, I was barely out of my teens then, and it was hard to think clearly about an experience of which I had practically no memory, while worrying about the baby I was carrying."
"I suppose so," Peter sighed. "And now he's making difficulties for you. Yes, that is certainly tricky. Well, as wizarding law stands, the parent who has spent most time with the child gets priority, and that with that, in nine cases out of ten, the custody of the child. The only situation in which the other parent is given custody instead of the primary carer, is if the primary carer is unfit to care for the child for some reason." He scratched his chin thoughtfully, "There was a case a few years ago when that happened, though – I must look it up."
"Was it due to a monetary cause?" Hermione asked worriedly. At his look of bafflement, she elaborated, "What I mean is – was the primary carer in financial straits? Was the custody given to the parent who was of a better financial standing?"
"No, that wasn't the case at all. In fact, while the financial status of the parent is looked into for the welfare of the child, custody's not usually awarded just because of it. Now, if the primary carer suffers from a long-term illness that might affect the child, or has an serious addiction problem..."
Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "That's good to know. For a moment there I…" she trailed off at the expression on Peter's face.
"But I think you need to be aware that there's also a clause in wizarding family law that says if the non-primary carer can provide a better quality of life for the child or shows potential for better care…"
Peter didn't need to complete his sentence; Hermione knew that he had just warned her that what she was about to embark on might have devastating consequences for the life she currently had with Aurora.
"I understand," she responded neutrally, doing her best to keep her face expressionless as she looked back at him across his tidy desk.
"Nonetheless, I must reiterate that we do have a strong case on your side. Certainly, your daughter is given a high level of care, so I don't anticipate this clause being an obstacle," he gave Hermione a reassuring smile.
"Well, I certainly hope not. Honestly, I wouldn't put anything past Aurora's biological father."
"I tell you what – I'll start researching this immediately. A watertight case will make all the difference. Family law isn't exactly my speciality, so I want to read up on a few prominent cases before going any further," Peter watched her reaction closely at his admission.
Hermione sighed. "Still, if you could find out for me exactly what I'd be up against if this ends up before the Wizengamot, I would be most grateful. Better the enemy we know than the one we don't." She gave Peter a shaky smile as she stood up and gathered her things.
"Yes, I agree." he nodded. He hated cases like this where one parent would come out of the blue expecting to be welcomed with open arms by the deserted party. He had studied such cases during university as well as during his training. The children's emotions during such cases were usually not recorded in court transcripts, but it didn't take a judge to work out that usually the children took the brunt in such cases where they were fought over like property. This case though, looked pretty cut and dry. He couldn't foresee any complications and smiled inwardly at the thought of representing Healer Granger in front of the Wizengamot. If he managed to win this case, his prestige, already high in the muggle world, would be ensured in wizarding society. The only difficulty he foresaw was in not knowing the identity of the child's father – Hermione had been very uncomfortable revealing the man's identity. This was an initial meeting after all – no doubt she would divulge the man's name during their next meeting by which time he would have completed his research. Still, unless Aurora's father was from one of the few remaining powerful old Pureblood families with their money and connections which he doubted was the case, Hermione had certainly nothing to worry about. None of the old pureblood families would want to acknowledge a less than pureblood child, much less one born out of wedlock. The biological father he was dealing with was probably a professional wizard of around Hermione's own age, with a thoroughly irresponsible character since he'd raped and left the poor girl with the child. As to his motive of wanting custody of Aurora… well, who knew? It didn't matter to the case anyway.
He watched the smartly dressed young woman scoop up her handbag and turn to him.
"Thank you for your time," Hermione smiled.
"The pleasure, Hermione, was all mine," he said, escorting her to the door. "I will be in touch when I have concluded my research. In the mean time, if you could start keeping detailed records of exactly when your daughter's father comes to see her and what transpires during the meetings, it would be helpful."
A minute later, Hermione was once more standing in the lift, which whisked her down to the ground floor. Stepping out, she crossed the busy foyer and emerged out on the busy street outside. If she were to be truthful with herself, the interview had gone better than she had expected. They had discussed the rape in clinical terms, which had helped her distance herself from the whole thing. She was glad that she had taken Mrs Weasley's advice by going to see Peter Briggs. Draco Malfoy may be rich and influential, she thought grinning, but not even he could refute a wealth of evidence and the decision of the Wizengamot.
She had thought that they would be able to work things out and come to a mutual understanding about Aurora, but she had reckoned without Draco's manipulative nature in turning Aurora away from her. He knew full well that she could not provide Aurora with the luxuries he was now heaping on the child, and had used this as a foothold to gain the child's affection. Money, she thought cynically, certainly talked in some circumstances, but she would not let it ruin her relationship with her daughter. More importantly, she could not allow her daughter to be exposed to Draco's distorted pureblood values.
She knew that only something as drastic as this would ensure that Draco left her and Aurora be, he wasn't the kind of man who would listen to reason. No, this time she vowed, she would get the better of Draco Malfoy – the man's influence and money be damned! It was worth spending every spare knut to pay for Peter's services if it meant that she and Aurora could live peaceful and happy lives. She looked forward to her next appointment with the solicitor. If everything proceeded as planned, the wheels would be set in motion to ensure that Draco Malfoy had nothing evermore to do with her daughter.