My heart and thoughts go out to all those who were in the path of the Halloween hurricane. East Coasters I feel your pain and I hope you can recover quickly. Please, pray for those affected. It was a tragedy. After this there is only one chapter and possibly a prologue that will tie the ends together. I will thank you again – I mean it from the bottom of my heart. For all of you who have taken this journey with me – I will always be grateful. But before all that here is the next to last chapter! Enjoy.
L Cailan
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
The shock wore off almost immediately; they all, in many ways, were used to tragedy.
Seamus began to put the fire out, waving his wand towards the flames to tame them, muttering incantations under his breath. Pansy rushed to help him while Ginny scooped a stricken Leo from the ground to cradle him closely.
"Daddy, I wan Daddy!"
It was painful to hear such pleas in the light of what was happening.
Hermione struggled not to cry as she rocked her husband gently. Even though she knew each second she remained frozen with inaction Neville's life was slipping away, she could not bring herself to move. Her grief was deep and it was evident in the way she whispered to him.
Draco did what he could to stave off the flow of blood from the wounds Blaise's curse had inflicted. But they all knew that little could be done for Neville; the wounds would not heal. Draco did his best to bind the lacerations around his middle and across his chest but the blood continued to seep through all the fabrics he could find. He finally took to charms that might slow the flow just enough that they could get Neville to safety-
"Is he going to die?"
Hermione's voice was broken as she stroked Neville's white face. He was helpless in her arms, twitching slightly and wheezing as he tried to breathe. His eyes would flutter occasionally but he had yet to open them. Hermione prayed for a miracle.
Draco put his hand over Hermione's so that it covered hers and Neville's.
"I swear I will do everything in my power to save him."
The fire was put out and all that remained was the dry, painful scent of destruction. Seamus stood next to Ginny trying to calm a crying Leo.
"You know James, Albie and Lily are waiting for you, they are," he was whispering.
Leo clung to Ginny tightly, choking on his own sobs, both comforted and terrified at the same time.
"I'll take up him upstairs with the others," Ginny said softly, kissing the top of his curly-haired head.
"Sure, I'll be goin' with ya," Seamus said his voice tense. "Now that…Dean-"
He shook his head.
"Someone will have to…let the others know. We will have them lower the wards. The Healers need to be here soon, they do."
"I'll take care of that," Ginny murmured, sensing her husband's deep pain at the loss of his best mate. They clasped hands and pulled Leo close between them before disappearing with a 'pop'.
Draco, Hermione and Neville were alone now; Pansy had disappeared wordlessly moments after putting the fire out; no one had noticed her departure.
Draco worked with the concentration of a madman. Nothing mattered more to him now than saving the life of the man who had saved his family. Certainly Draco had felt jealousy towards this man; he had felt resentment and anger.
He married the only woman I have ever loved, heart and soul. He claimed my son as his own!
Neville let out a raspy sound.
He loved her when I couldn't; he loves my son. He loves them like I do. He saved their lives. And for that I owe him a debt I will never be able to pay.
Draco decided that he would not allow Longbottom to die. There was no other choice.
"Do you remember all those children in the alienages? The ones who came there to die? I recall those long, cold nights that you would nurse them, trying to restore their health."
Hermione, who was gazing down at her dying husband, shuddered.
"Yes," she whispered in reply.
"Even then I wondered at your stubbornness and the endless compassion within you."
A tear slipped down her sooty face, leaving a ragged streak.
"My compassion did nothing to save those children."
Draco looked down with determination.
"But it might save Neville."
The fallen man groaned as Draco tried to lay him on the ground as carefully as possible.
"We can help him; we can do this together. You've always been brilliant at healing and he needs you."
Hermione nodded, forcing her tears away and laying her hands along Neville's bloodied torso. Draco was right; she couldn't hesitate now. Neville's life depended on it.
Air had never tasted so clean. Pansy stood facing the breeze, her body aching and eyes burning. There were whispers around her, murmurs that melted into the cacophony that was the rest of the world. She had believed that she had seen everything. But the scene in the stone cellar of Blaise's hideaway would haunt her forever.
And now Neville Longbottom was dying.
She clutched the small handful of Dittany to her chest tightly. If there was something she could do she would do it; she would not have Neville's death on her conscience too especially if she could help it. Somehow, he had to survive.
And why is that?
Pansy took in a breath, pushing her dark hair from her shoulders and the scent of smoke rose up once again to haunt her. As she stared straight ahead at the gray horizon she refused to answer her mind's question. There was no reason to think after a man she had never cared for in the past and one who had a wife-
After a few more breaths of pristine air, the woman turned to move back towards the house.
Pansy heard him before she saw him.
"He would have thanked you, he would."
Finnigan.
Pansy had spent most of her life either ignoring him or detesting him. He had escaped the Ministry the first time; he had been a vital member of the Alliance. He was fierce, stubborn and smart – all those things that they had all hated in a half blood. But all that was in a past Pansy wanted to forget. She wanted to say something back; she wanted to look at him but her shame would not allow it. After a long silence, Seamus spoke again.
"He would have thanked you and so now I will."
"He was a good leader; Neville told me so."
There was a silence but Pansy could feel Seamus' approval nonetheless.
"Aye, he was, to be sure. A greater man there never was."
Pansy force a smile through the shame.
"I would have thanked him for trusting me in spite of his instincts."
She dared to look at him and he was watching her solemnly.
"Trust is a tricky thing."
Pansy shook her head.
"You need never make excuses when it comes to me. I deserve never to be trusted; I caused some of the pain in this world."
"Aye, so have we all."
She watched as he carefully took her hand in his to squeeze it.
"No one will forget this. Thank you."
The breeze picked up stirring the smoke-tinged air. Seamus looked back towards the brick building with a growing concern and Pansy tightened her grip on his fingers.
"He deserves a proper burial; he was a man of honor. When this is all over…"
When this is all over…
Seamus nodded his heart heavy. He had heard the phrase so many times in his life that it no longer held meaning or hope. Perhaps this was over but his best mate had died. And Neville-
Pansy was looking down at the small cloth bag she was clutching to her chest.
"These might help him," she whispered as if reading Seamus' mind. Perhaps she could. "It's Dittany. I know when the alienages still existed-"
Suddenly Pansy was overwhelmed once more by the horror of what had happened in the alienage courtyard that hot, summer afternoon when she had nearly killed Hermione Granger in front of her family and the others who were imprisoned within those walls. She would never forget it – her anger and the way Granger looked at her.
Swallowing shame she locked eyes with Seamus.
"He's our Minister. He's not dead yet and we've got to do everything we can to save him."
They had laid Neville's limp and cool body on the dirty, debris littered ground and Hermione bent over him barely seeing his ashen face in the dimness of the smoke-filled room.
"There was a spell," Draco murmured, trying in vain to stave off the flow of blood from the cursed wounds. "I remember…Snape…he was singing something to me that day in the bathroom…"
Draco was unsure if his musings made sense but he recalled the pain of Harry Potter's curse and the way his blood had mixed with the water as he had lain on the lavatory floor with his professor hovering over him, his pinched, white face a mask of concern. And yes, the incantation had been almost like a song. Draco had never forgotten it and now he whispered it over and over again so that Hermione could hear and so that they worked together in hope of saving the Minister's life. For the longest time the only sound was their healing chant and Neville's wheezing.
The fallen man shuddered and trembled and Hermione continued to chant the healing spell through eyes that were filled with tears of pain and regret. Just when she thought all was lost Neville's eyes flew open, rolling around in their sockets and stopping to stare blearily upwards.
"You…"
His vision cleared and Draco felt his heart stop when those eyes focused on him.
"You…it was always you, wasn't it?"
There was no emotion in that voice for Neville couldn't muster the strength to speak above a whisper. Draco wondered if anyone would ever know if those words had been meant to wound or to question.
"Don't…don't move…don't try to speak. Not until…not until we get you out of here and to a Healer."
"You…you saved me."
Draco felt a tremendous weight on his heart and he knew it was guilt. Swallowing back his self-loathing he nodded listening to the soothing sound of Hermione's gentle incantation. A sense of calm had fallen over the room; Neville's bleeding had begun to slow.
"You are her husband," Draco found himself saying. It had always been as true as it was impossible to believe. "You were for her when I could not be."
"Anyone would have done what I did. She is too easy to love."
Neither man could deny the whispered declaration. The two men in the smoky room were united in the feeling that had captured their hearts: loving Hermione Granger.
"It was the easiest thing I have ever done," Draco admitted. "I know you understand that and I know you want to survive this so you can love each other once again."
Draco gripped Neville's hand, swallowing his own feelings to ensure the other man's survival.
"She loves you, Neville. Never mind the mess that she and I have caused. She loves you."
These were poignant words, filled with pain and longing – and as necessary to Neville's survival as they were vile to Draco's utterance.
The ashen-faced Minister offered a sound that may have been a laugh. In his weakened state it was impossible to tell.
"Not the way she loves you."
Hermione had cut apart Neville's clothing and the wounds, which were gaping and bloody, began to knit themselves together slowly.
Draco felt disgusted with himself.
"I should never have come back," he said miserably. "I never wanted to interfere. Please believe that."
Neville's eyes remained focused on Draco's pale face.
"You never would have if I was the one she wanted," he managed to say. His voice had risen above a pained whisper now. "But I am not who she wants."
Neville's bleary gaze moved to his dutiful wife.
"Hermione, you are f-free. Free-"
Draco began to object but the air around them moved and a soft pop preceded Pansy's apparition. She fell to the dirty ground near Hermione, offering a small bundle.
"Dittany," she said softly. "This should help with the scarring and soothe the wounds."
Hermione, who had not spoken for long moments, looked up and nodded to Pansy gratefully.
"Thank you."
Pansy worked alongside Hermione her face a mask of determined concentration. She, as always, said no more. Neville had also fallen silent after his weakened confession, choosing instead to watch his wife and the woman who knelt next to her. His body screamed in pain although Neville couldn't remember the last time that pain had felt so…strange. He could almost feel his flesh shifting and twisting as if being bound up by some magical force. Each breath, ever second, seemed to bring with it a new bout of aches. He wasn't even aware that he had begun to groan out in pain against his will.
That was until the cool touch of Pansy's Parkinson's smoke scented fingers.
"You will live," she was saying over and over again. Even though her litany of words worked to soothe him, Neville still managed to reach out and grip Draco's hand.
"You…take care of her…if…if something happens. I want you to."
Draco stared, taken aback.
"She would want you to. I was only…I was only a stand-in."
Hermione glanced up from her work watching him, her face blanching.
"I made a commitment to you," she hissed, eyes tearing up. "I would never-I can never be free to-"
"And I would never force you to love me the way I deserve. And I want you to be happy."
The heaviness of the statement caused everyone to fall silent.
"Neville, I-"
Hermione's aching plea was cut off by Pansy's firm touch. The room was once again silent and finally the curly-haired witch refocused her efforts on saving the man she had called her husband for so long. And only when his painful groans ceased and the blood was no longer weeping from the magical wounds did she relax.
Neville would survive; what she faced once she left Zabini's hideaway she did not know but at least she knew Neville would live. And that was the most important thing.
Pansy and Draco helped Hermione to her feet and she wobbled unsteadily for a few moments her legs having gone numb from the hard concrete beneath them. Neville had fallen into a restless sleep.
"They will come for the bodies," Pansy whispered weakly. "The Ministry will be here…"
Hermione glanced at the dark-haired woman.
"We should be up there to let them know what is happening," she said gravely but found that leaving Neville was more difficult than she had anticipated.
Though his wounds had healed quite nicely and he was not standing on death's doorstep she was loathe to leave him in the state he was in. A part of her would always blame herself…
"I will stay with him if you want."
Once more, Pansy had read Hermione's mind.
"You go with Draco."
Uncertainly, Hermione acquiesced.
"You'll come for me if he…if he starts to get worse?"
"The moment it happens, if it happens, I promise."
As Draco took her hand to Apparate, Hermione found that somewhere along the line, she had learned how to trust Pansy Parkinson. She leaned into Draco's warmth easily, finding herself able to take a full breath for the first time since being taken prisoner.
"Will it end now, Draco?" she whispered her question.
He did not answer.
It did not end.
The Ministry arrived within the hour. There were Officials dressed in deep purple and black robes – dozens of them it seemed. The air about them seemed jubilant in spite of the death that had transpired in that place.
Seamus and Ginny clutched Leo closely, shielding him from view as Hermione had done.
Ginny turned quickly to survey the group that had arrived. None were friendly with Neville; there were none in the group who could be called friends. These were…the ones that had supported Blaise Zabini during the war and the ones that had been mistrustful of Neville-
"Why are they here?" she hissed against Leo's soft hair.
Seamus' blue eyes were unusually grave.
"See the short bloke just there?" he whispered to his wife, nodding towards a tiny wizard that stood at the back of the group. His robes were almost too big for his small frame.
"He was part of that group Blaise created. Snatching up Death Eaters they were!"
He glanced down at Ginny for a moment.
"I'll take Leo and you go down to that cellar and warn Draco and Pansy. Hell, warn Hermione too; if we all know about what's happened between her and Draco, by now the Ministry might know too! There's no telling what they are here for."
Ginny didn't waste any time questioning her husband's motives and placed Leo firmly into the circle of his arms, stepping away from them both.
"Where is Blaise Zabini?"
The wizard who led the group was one Ginny only faintly recognized from the British Ministry. Though only familiar with names and not generally with faces, Ginny knew that she had seen him on the pages of the Prophet at one time or another. But putting faces with the names of Neville's numerous colleagues had proven difficult and after a while Ginny had stopped trying. She had given up her life in England anyway, having moved to Ireland after her marriage which had been years ago.
"We have been told there's been a hunt for him!"
The Alliance stood silent many still in the same places they had put up the earlier wards to stop Zabini. None of them glanced towards the wizard in purple and black. None of them spoke.
"Where is he?"
The new voice rang clear in the gray, windy afternoon. It was Padma's voice and it surprised some and brought pain to others for in it lay the unspoken – the truth of her unwavering loyalty to Blaise Zabini.
Seamus stepped forward.
"Sure, you ought ta be ashamed of yourself! Standin' up for a man the likes of Zabini!"
"You don't understand!" she shot back standing before him her chin raised with defiance. Her black eyes flashed angrily. "He protected my sister and me! He took care of Lavender; he took care of all of us!"
She put up her hands helplessly.
"He won the war for us and gave us new freedoms and rights! It's because of HIM that we are all equal!"
Seamus let out a snort of contempt.
"Equal me arse! You're blind, you are! There be no rights for everyone!"
Padma shook her head.
"Those who were cruel in the past deserve what is coming to them!"
Ginny interrupted.
"Then that's not equality Padma, is it? What the Death Eaters did to the Muggleborns and half bloods is unforgivable but should we be the same? Isn't it time to move past all this prejudice?"
The black-haired woman stood speechless for a moment as beyond them, the gray sky darkened and the rumble of thunder could be heard. The wind picked up bringing with it the stench of smoke.
"Where is he?"
This time her voice was softer, less demanding. "He is our Minister now; Neville has resigned. I was there."
The shock of Padma's pronouncement left Ginny and Seamus speechless this time.
"He will lead us the way Neville couldn't."
There was a murmur of agreement from the group of Ministry Officials behind her.
"So tell us where he is so we can finish this nonsense, cast the blame and move on with our lives."
They had all been so focused on one another that they did not see Draco and Hermione when they Apparated into the small clearing.
"He is dead."
Padma whirled around at the sound of Hermione's voice. The two women stood facing one another – one was sad the other bewildered.
"What did you say?"
"Blaise is dead."
The rumble of distant thunder was the only sound in that moment; it was as if time had stopped, swallowing everything with it – even human breath and heartbeat. Confusion could be felt through the silence and then a moment later Padma uttered an angry shriek.
"She did it!"
Pointing her wand at Hermione, Padma advanced.
"She killed him! Didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?"
The harsh accusation startled Hermione and she faltered, falling back an inch. Her eyes widened.
"I don't know-"
"Spare me your rubbish lies!" Padma cried. "You wanted to see him dead! You begged me to help you escape, you called him all manner of horrid names! You killed him!"
Hermione shook her head finally finding her voice amidst the madness.
"Yes, he's dead!"
Her repeated declaration neither saved or damned her. The anger between the two women grew to a fevered pitch and two men stepped in between them: Seamus and the leader from the Ministry.
"Stop this," Seamus urged gently.
"We will get to the bottom of everything," assured the Official.
The two women glared at one another and their looks seemed to be more damaging than even magic. Neither spoke.
"If Blaise is dead where is his body?"
The question was more like a demand but Hermione could not find the strength to answer. Ginny's voice rose up around them.
"In the cellar of the house. Dean Thomas…he-he is there too."
Seamus had looked away.
"The Minister is there as well. You should talk to him, you should."
"Neville's not the Minister any longer! I was there; I saw him willingly sign the contract! And then she KILLED HIM!"
Once again Padma's wrath blazed white-hot and the Official had to keep her from attacking Hermione. Draco, who had stood silent as death, finally found his voice.
"Lavender Zabini cursed Neville. Then, when he survived that, Blaise managed to kidnap him. His whole plan all along was to secure the position of Minister for Magic. He did not care for anyone but himself. Right before…right before he was killed-"
He dropped his head.
"Blaise was the one who killed Dean Thomas. Then when he tried to kill Hermione I…"
Ginny jumped in quickly, stopping Draco's obvious confession.
"Stop this, Draco."
The Official looked at the small group before him.
"Who will speak now?"
No one answered him.
Neville felt colder than he had ever felt in his whole life. It wasn't just the fingers of cold gripping him, seeping into him from the cement beneath him. It was the numbness that had spread over his body, making the pain from his wounds fade slightly. He wasn't sure he would live or die. What he did know for sure was that he had suffered for what seemed like a lifetime. Not just on that day, in that smoky cellar. There had been days before that, so that now they all blended together into one endless, weary symphony of pain. Neville no longer knew how long he had been suffering.
Amidst the blanket of cold he was aware that there was the warm grip of someone's hand on his. And when he opened his eyes, Neville looked into the violet depths of Pansy Parkinson's eyes.
"What-what are you doing here?"
She shifted slightly in the dimness but would not let go of his hand. Her fingers were so warm.
"Someone needed to stay here, Minister."
"I-I…am no longer…Minister…"
There was pressure on his fingers.
"But you are. Blaise is dead," she whispered.
They gazed at one another for a long time. There was much said without words; it was as if they understood each other.
"You never gave in to him. They say you aren't brave and you don't deserve to run the Ministry but I beg you to get well so you can. You are the bravest man I know."
The sincerity of Pansy's words left Neville unable to reply for a long time. When he finally did his words were weak.
"What-what happens now?"
The Healers will come and you will recover at St. Mungo's."
Neville blinked and licked his dry lips.
"Cardiff…I-I want…to go…home."
Pansy shook her head as she watched Neville struggling to keep his eyes open.
"You have duties here," she reminded him, her voice hoarse.
"I don't…want them…anymore. I don't…want…anymore."
Pansy sighed.
"After everything you've been through you cannot just run away."
"Wales is my…home. I miss…the Clinic."
He fell silent, wincing as a wave of pain washed over him and then he felt her impossibly warm fingers against the side of his icy face.
"You rest now," she urged. "All this you can think about when you awaken."
Neville began to float…and Pansy soft voice was the last thing he remembered. It served to soothe his broken heart and to protect it from the pain of loss and the fear of uncertainty.
The Officials descended the cement steps to the cellar, followed by Ginny, Seamus, Hermione and Draco.
Pansy heard them long before she saw them; they did not Apparate into the room. The dimness of the small, smoky space began to slowly be filled with wand light until they surrounded her and Neville, who had fallen into a deep sleep from which none could wake him.
For a long time the group said nothing. It was as if time had stopped but Pansy knew that would not last.
"Is he dead?" questioned one Official finally and in the shadows Pansy almost though he looked eager. Perhaps that was her imagination.
The others peered around him to stare at Neville's pallor in the dim white light.
"No," Pansy replied in a raspy whisper. "He only sleeps; he needs medical attention. You must-"
"What we must do is get to the bottom of this."
He turned to face Hermione and the others in the group.
"You say you did not kill him even though Miss Patil brings such allegations against you?"
Hermione took a breath.
"I-"
"She didn't. I did," Draco interrupted in monotone leaving Hermione unable to defend him. He took a step forward as if to shield Hermione from any harm. At the same time, Seamus snorted.
"Aye, Malfoy, stop this. Sure, we know you didn't kill him."
The shock of Seamus' quiet defense left the others silent so that the Official could interrupt.
"Why would anyone want to kill him?"
"Zabini has murdered many and no one has stepped up to stop him. What happened here today…no one was given a choice."
The Official gave them both a stern look.
"There are always choices. Blaise Zabini was a hero and to see him end like this…"
"Hero me arse!"
Seamus' freckled faded by the indignant flush that bloomed upon his cheeks.
"You think him a hero, do ya? It's glad I am that he's dead! He kidnapped our Minister! And for what, to further his own agenda? Hero, indeed!"
Padma shot Seamus a look of disapproval.
"Everyone forgets so quickly all the good he has done!"
The tension in the cellar had thickened so much it was difficult to breathe. The Official stared down at the dead bodies and sighed.
"Do tell me, Ms. Longbottom, why Blaise Zabini would want to hurt you?"
Hermione felt stunned at the question and her tired mind could not quite keep up.
"I am Neville's wife; he wanted Neville to…he used me so that Neville would willingly abandon his Ministry post. He knew that if it came down to it, Neville would have chosen his family."
The silence that followed was broken by Draco's raspy voice.
"He hated me; he hated that I would not join him during the war. We were both secret sympathizers to the Muggle born cause. Until his obsessions took over. Then he turned on those who were just like him."
Ginny took in a breath.
"He became just like Voldemort."
No one said anything after that. But when Hermione moved to join her friends the purple-clad Official stopped her.
"Ms. Longbottom, I'm afraid that we cannot let you move from here until we have dealt with the grave accusations."
Hermione stared at the man, stricken. She had seen his face as she had passed him in the Ministry halls. She had known he was a colleague of Neville's – one of many she had not taken the time to know.
She had been his equal – at one time. And now…
Hanging her head, she nodded and took strength in the fact that Ginny had taken her hand and squeezed it. The Official had all but forgotten Hermione then.
"Take these bodies from the room," he ordered those around him. "We will give them a proper burial."
Then he moved towards Pansy and Draco.
"Are there more of you?" he demanded.
Draco remained silent and Pansy glared up at him defiantly. The Official remained unemotional.
"I wager there are," he muttered darkly. "Our Minister was a weak man, sympathetic to your cause, wasn't he?"
Only silence answered him and finally he gave up.
"No matter, you will tell us what we need to know in time."
When he turned, Ginny stood in his way.
"Wait to punish everyone until Neville awakens. He is still the rightful Minister; he was coerced into giving up his post. You can't punish Hermione until you hear his side of things."
The Official smiled slowly as he gazed down at Neville's immobile body. The man looked as good as dead.
"Fair enough," he said.
One week later
Hermione sat stiffly on the covers of her unmade bed. She hadn't bothered to make it in days; she had completely let herself go.
What's happened to me?
She had returned home the day of Blaise and Dean's deaths and had not left since except to meet briefly with the Ministry, her friends and to visit St. Mungo's.
Neville had not awoken from his magically-induced coma. The Healers were at a loss over what to do and the Minister lay in repose hour after hour and day after day.
When will Neville wake up? Will I never have my life back? And what about Draco?
Those that had taken over the Ministry during Neville's possibly lengthy absence were those who had wholeheartedly supported Blaise. They had quickly taken Draco and Pansy in for questioning; Hermione hadn't seen them since. She had heard from Ginny several days later that they had finally broken Pansy; the remnant of Death Eaters hiding out in the Irish orphanages had been captured and sent to Azkaban. In exchange for the information Pansy had been released.
I can't imagine the guilt she must be feeling!
But now what? Would the Ministry no longer need Draco? Would they, too, be sent to Azkaban because he had nothing to offer to those who sought revenge over Blaise's death? Hermione's heart couldn't bear the thought. No matter how torn she was, deep down her heart belonged to Draco Malfoy and wherever he went she would follow.
So how could she-?
The door to her bedroom opened and Leo walked in, watching his mother warily.
"Mama?"
She didn't answer, too stricken to speak. Leo didn't know it but she had spent every night since that day watching her son sleep, unable to do so herself in fear that someone would return and try to take him from her once more.
"Mama, can I axe you a question?"
Hermione's eyes watered.
"Anything, my love."
Leo hadn't asked too many questions; he had been uncharacteristically quiet though Hermione could not blame him for it. And at night he had been plagued with dreams about the 'bad men'.
"Mama, did the bad men take daddy?"
Hermione reached to run her hands through his thick auburn waves.
"No," she whispered. "You know daddy is at St. Mungo's."
"Will God take daddy?"
"Where did you get that idea?"
"James, Lily and Albus got their daddy taken away by God."
Hermione pulled her son close and he allowed the embrace, holding her as tight as he could.
"Your daddy is going to be just fine."
She knew no matter what, it would be true.
"Mama, da bad man said my borned daddy is a no good bassard deaf eater."
Leo's voice was muffled but the declaration froze Hermione's heart. Her fingers grew icy cold as they stroked her son's back.
"Leo, you can't talk like that," she whispered in shock.
"Mama, is it true? Why would he say dat? Lily has Say Mouse as a borrowed daddy but he not a def eater. Why is my borned daddy one?"
Hermione pulled away from Leo.
"Listen to me," she ordered firmly. "Your father is a great man and you can't ever-"
Leo was crying.
"I was mad, Mama. I was mad at daddy and I wished he goes away and now God is gonna take him, isn't he? I didn't mean it! I wan Daddy!"
Hermione tried to soothe him.
"Why were you mad, love?"
"I heard you yellin and I heard daddy yellin. I was so mad! But I didn't wan him to go away!"
Hermione could do nothing but hold her son as he sobbed helplessly.
"I'm sowwy, Mama. I don't want God ta take Daddy."
He sobbed into his mother's shoulder as she rocked him back and forth.
Two weeks after Blaise Zabini's death Hermione saw Draco again for the first time. All the time apart, the worry about Neville, about what was going to happen to her when she faced the Ministry – all of it – had worn heavily on her heart and not even seeing Draco eased the burden completely.
It did not help that now Hermione and Draco had to face the reality that sooner or later they would have to tell Leo the truth about his parentage. Blaise had already planted the seed of doubt in the young boy's mind.
"He already understands the difference, Draco. He knows that Lily, Albus and James had a different birth father. He knows that Neville isn't his real father; he calls him his borrowed daddy."
Draco's fists were clenched.
"Still, he's only known Neville, hasn't he?"
"But he likes you as well and I don't want to lie anymore. Nothing good ever came from my lies."
Sighing, Draco moved to join her on the large sofa in the austere living room.
"I know you hated lying about Leo, didn't you? He's the best thing that's ever happened to us."
He reached to clasp his cold hand with Hermione's. She could not disagree and the two sat in silence.
One month later
Neville slept on, surrounded by his closest friends and his tiny family. Leo stood next to him, stroking his hand like he had done each time he visited. Hermione stood behind her son, sadness having claimed her cold, divided heart.
A heavy tension blanketed the hospital room.
"It's been months," said the Healer with a sad shake of his head. "I've tried everything and I reckon without the will to live on he may never-"
Hermione's bleary eyes closed.
"Don't say it," she whispered. "Please."
And even though she prayed that Neville awaken, when her eyes opened, she still gazed upon her unconscious husband. The Healer said no more, much to Hermione's gratefulness.
You're free, Hermione. Free…
Neville had whispered those words to her, his grip in her hand so many weeks before that one. How could she move on with her life, how could she be free if she couldn't tell him good-bye? What if she never saw him smile again?
How can I do this?
She knew who her heart belonged to but that didn't mean that she would just forget Neville.
Why can't you wake up? Why can't you say good-bye? Why can't you tell Leo you love him?
Hermione's heavy heart wept.
Her despairing thoughts were broken suddenly by the sound of the Healer's voice.
"There's nothing more we can do here, Hermione. In two days' time he is being transferred."
Hermione sat up stiffly, her eyes watering. She fought with anger and frustration.
"W-where?" she choked out.
"I'm told back to The Memorial Clinic."
"C-Cardiff? How could anyone…I cannot take him-"
"But I can, Hermione. It's where he wants to be and I can be there with him."
When Hermione turned she saw Pansy framed in the doorway.
Hermione and Leo met Pansy at St. Mungo's two days later. The bed that Neville had lain in all those weeks was now stripped bare of blankets and sheets. The room had been cleaned and disinfected and Hermione walked towards the window carrying two suitcases of Neville's belongings.
"This-this should get him through for awhile," she whispered and Pansy nodded with a thin smile. She was wearing a long, black traveling cloak and a hat that swathed her face in shadows. But Hermione knew Pansy's smile was genuine.
"Thank you."
The raven-haired woman knelt by Leo's side.
"Would you like to say good-bye?"
Leo nodded, his lips trembling.
"You will take care of my borrowed daddy?"
"The best of care, I promise."
"And I can see him when I axe Mommy?"
"You can," Pansy vowed a second time.
"I love him."
"I think everyone loves him."
There was a silence and then Leo put his hand in Pansy's to be led back to Neville. Hermione watched wondering how it was possible that her son was now holding the hand of a woman that she had once believed was the devil. How life changed – this had been proven time and time again.
Hermione knew that no one was the master of their life – her own life was the perfect example.
She would not recall those last few details. She would only remember later the way Leo had clung to Neville, the sound of his little sobs. She would remember the tender way that Pansy had held his hand. And the slight scent of musk and ginger when she had leaned down to kiss Neville's cool cheek. She moved mechanically, her heart cold and weary, and she did not recall until much later how much pain her freedom would cost her. And how much she had yet to pay for Blaise's death.
Hermione would have to tell Leo the truth. He had already lost one father and she could not lie to him any longer.
"Mama," he whispered many hours later, after Pansy and Neville had left the hospital.
"Mama," he whispered as Hermione shifted on the bed where she had taken to resting her eyes and holding her son so that he would not have bad dreams.
"Yes, love?"
"Mama, who is my borned daddy?"
She couldn't answer her son's question – not now. Not yet – not until morning.
Morning came and Ginny arrived to stay with Hermione. Her heart was heavy as she saw the pain in her son's eyes. She felt the endless guilt over Neville and the all-consuming loneliness without Draco at her side.
Yes, it seemed like it would be a most ordinary day.
But it wasn't.
The Ministry arrived just after dinner was cleared and Leo was heading out play at Ginny's insistence. Hermione stood framed in her doorway, watching as they moved up the grassy incline.
"Hermione Longbottom?"
"Yes," said she, her voice wooden.
"You are officially charged with the murder of war hero Blaise Zabini. You will need to give yourself up to us and we will take you in."
Hermione felt odd – like a shell of the woman she could have been. She heard her son's outcry and she heard Ginny's tearful voice telling him to be calm.
She moved slowly towards the group of Officials, like a woman headed towards the Gallows. She had risen from the ashes of her blood status to become the wife of the Minister. She had lied. She had loved the enemy. And now she had fallen once again, perhaps lower than she had ever fallen before.