XIII
—
Draco rapped on his mother and father's bedroom door anxiously. It had taken him a few minutes to get to the other side of the manor, and in that time, his mind had come up with several different terrifying scenarios. Despite how unlikely any of his imagined cases were, he was suddenly burning to know of the elder Malfoy's condition, and was glad Hermione had sent him off.
A few seconds after his knock, his mother flung open the entryway and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"I was just about to send for you, my love. Olympia says your father is well enough to wake!" She exclaimed, pulling him into the room and over to the bedside. Olympia looked like she hadn't moved since he'd last been there, still humming her soothing tune and slowly moving the strange silver wand over Lucius. The man in the bed, however, looked a great deal better than he had before; instead of nearly dead, he now looked to be simply asleep.
Olympia stopped singing and closed her eyes, chanting a long verse in an ancient tongue. Then she gave the wand a quick swish over Lucius's head.
Narcissa stared apprehensively as she knelt beside her husband, taking one of his hands in hers and kissing it as she waited for him to awaken. She let out a shuddering breath when the man coughed slightly and opened his eyes.
Draco watched as his father looked up and immediately pulled his wife into his arms, kissing her as though they'd been apart for a lifetime. The woman let out a surprised giggle when they separated, staring up at him with pure adoration in her gaze.
Lucius glanced around the room and smiled warmly when his eyes landed on his son.
"Draco," he called, extending an arm.
The boy grinned and strode over to the bedside, leaning forward and embracing his father.
"I'm glad you're alright. It was looking quite grim for a moment."
"Well, thank the stars for whatever it was that you did, and Olympia's unfailing abilities, not to mention haste," the elder Malfoy said, giving a nod of appreciation to the half-siren. She dipped her head in acknowledgment, silently returning her strange wand to a large black bag before fixing her gaze on Draco.
"Young master Malfoy, where is your betrothed?" She questioned, earning her a raised eyebrow from the boy.
"The Dark Lord is... speaking with her," he replied with a grimace. Stars only knew how ruthless the man was being, and he felt his stomach tie itself in knots at the thought. Olympia gave a hum that echoed around the room unnaturally.
"I will wait, then."
"Wait? What for? Why do you want to see her?" Draco questioned suspiciously. A sly smile broke on the healer's face, and her eyes flicked to Narcissa.
"Your mother has requested I examine the girl's reproductive capabilities."
The boy whirled to face his mother. "You what?"
The woman's expression was stern as she settled beside her husband. "Truthfully, I'm furious with myself for not thinking of it before you announced your engagement. Now we'll have to stage some accident or other if she's not suitable."
Draco was speechless at the nonchalant way his mother spoke of murdering his fiancée. Before he could find his voice, his father spoke.
"It makes sense, Draco. The mudblood is only here to produce diversified offspring. If she can't do that, the sooner we're rid of her, the better."
"And what if I don't want to be rid of her?"
Both of his parents glowered at him, his mother especially.
"That is not how we raised you," she hissed. Draco folded his arms over his chest bitterly.
"No, but according to the healers, if I stood by the way you raised me, you wouldn't be having any grandchildren at all. You ought to thank the stars for the Dark Lord's decree."
The silence in the room was thick, as the small family stared each other down. Lucius huffed and shook his head, focusing his attention on his wife.
"We've discussed this enough. The Dark Lord has imposed an official order, and our son has chosen to follow that to an extreme. Perhaps we should view it as a display of his dedication to our leader."
Narcissa glared at her husband but said no more.
Draco looked down at his feet. He'd been hoping for a pleasant reunion with his father, and couldn't help the disappointment he felt that it had turned the way it did. He sat on the edge of his parents bed.
"How do you feel?" He asked his father quietly. There was a brief pause, and the man looked like he was thinking about it.
"Quite well, actually. Perhaps even better than normal."
Olympia, whom the three had forgotten was still present, hummed in response to that.
"That will be the aftereffects of my song. You are healed thoroughly, but in a few hours time, my singing will have faded from your veins and there may be some tenderness. It should leave you by Sunday."
Picking up her bag, she said, "I will wait by the fish pond. You will bring me Miss Granger when she has a few moments to spare, young master Malfoy."
The boy clenched his jaw, biting back a retort that he would do no such thing unless his fiancée consented. Instead, he redirected his attention back to his mother and father, who began discussing the gardens and whether or not they should add another water feature. It was the sort of meaningless conversation they'd had frequently before… everything, and it brought back a comforting nostalgia. It was almost enough to take his mind off the anxiety caused by the thought of his intended being interrogated not far away.
Almost, but not quite.
—
The Dark Lord abruptly pulled out of Hermione's mind, the sensation not unlike what she imagined removing a knife from a stab wound would feel like. She gave a sharp gasp of pain, taking a few moments to reorient herself.
She realized at some point she'd fallen onto her side, and she raised herself as gracefully as one could in such a situation. Keeping her head low, she waited to be addressed.
Voldemort stared at the girl with a hard gaze. She'd had no information on how the New Order had foreseen their ambush, of course, other than the possibility that their seer had predicted it, which he found unlikely. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still fixed icily on the young witch as he spoke.
"At least watching your stunt with Taylor was amusing. Leave, I have work to do."
Hermione gave him a respectful curtsy, then silently exited the study, closing the door softly behind her. She exhaled shakily, feeling like she hadn't really breathed sinced she'd walked into the Dark Lord's office, and there was a dull ache in her temples, but it was nothing she couldn't manage or work around. She spotted Delilah pacing nearby, and began to unclasp the bracelet on her wrist, but the girl stopped her.
"I can survive without it for a bit longer, but once you take it off, you'll be out for the day," she said, her face morphing into a smirk that could've stopped hearts. "You should get some of your wedding planning done while I'm feeling generous."
Hermione wanted to ask what sort of pain the girl wore it for, but decided it wasn't her place. Instead, she nodded her thanks, then began making her way towards the second floor drawing room that she'd begun to grow comfortable with. Glancing at one of the magnificent grandfather clocks in the main corridor of the manor, she saw that she'd been with the Dark Lord for almost three hours, and it was just past noon. Perfect. She and Delilah would have a small lunch, then get to work.
—
It was nearing three o'clock, and Draco was just escaping a meeting the Dark Lord had called, having summoned all of his Inner Circle. There had been discussions regarding The New Order, naturally, but nobody wanted to voice their ideas as to how the group had suddenly acquired such an influx of resources, though everyone was likely thinking the same thing.
After hours of restrategizing and discussing other important subjects, Voldemort had heard enough, dismissing his followers and disappearing.
As he made his way from the formal dining hall, Draco called for Ditzy, asking where Hermione could be found. He expected to hear that she'd retired to her quarters, but that was not what the House Elf said.
"Oh! Mistress Granger and her companion be in the second floor east sitting room! Mistress Granger is wanting your opinions on things and tells Ditzy to send you to her when you is not busy!"
The boy paused, suspicious.
"She's not ill?"
"Mistress Granger appears to be in good health, though she does ask for chamomile tea, which be used to cure headaches sometimes."
Shaking his head, Draco walked quickly through the manor, knocking lightly on the sitting room door when he reached it.
Hermione opened the door with every measure of poise, then relaxed a bit when she saw who was on the other side.
"Good, you're here. As I hope Ditzy told you, there are a few things I'd like your thoughts on," she said, ushering him inside. The boy furrowed his brows as he looked her up and down.
"How are you alright?" He questioned, thoroughly confused. No one, not even Snape, was so alert and unbothered after the Dark Lord's Legilimency.
"Delilah lent me her bracelet," the girl stated, holding up her wrist to display the gold and garnet links.
Draco studied the jewelry for a moment, then looked to its owner, who appeared to be meditating in front of the fireplace.
"What happens when she takes it off?" He asked Delilah, who opened her eyes and shot him an annoyed glance.
"Then you catch her when she faints."
Hermione huffed. "We'll deal with that later. Now here," she said, motioning to the cards covering the coffee table. "I need your opinion on invitations."
—
Several minutes later, the two were just finalizing the invites for the different galas they'd be hosting when Delilah gave a sharp yelp, her hand flying to her back.
"Sorry Granger, but I need my bracelet back now," she said through gritted teeth. Hermione nodded and made to unlatch the ornament, but Draco gently grasped her hand.
"Olympia is here, she might be able to ease the Legilimency Sickness. But…"
He rubbed his neck awkwardly, making his intended raise an eyebrow in suspicion. "Continue, Draco," she ordered.
"My mother has requested that Olympia… evaluate you. So if you ask for her help, you'll have to go through that as well."
Hermione's forehead creased in confusion, unaware of anything offensive about such a petition, but Delilah scoffed as she stiffly climbed to her feet.
"I'm sure she's not interested in anything but your procreative health, Granger, which means she's questioning your ability to produce an heir for your husband. That's an incredible insult amongst the Pureblood community."
At that, Hermione straightened her spine and clasped her hands at her waist. "Well, I'm perfectly confident in my childbearing capacities, and seeing as I'm unlikely to be let out of this little examination, I see no problem in having it done now. Elf!"
Migo appeared, bowing low and asking what service he could provide.
"Find Olympia and bring her to my quarters," the girl commanded, the creature disappearing moments later. Hermione then took hold of Delilah, and the two of them Disapparated, landing in the guest wing with Draco on their heels.
The Muggle-Born strode up to her bedroom door and drew her wand, altering the wards around her quarters to allow others inside. Then she turned to her companion and unclasped the bracelet on her wrist, her fiancé moving closer with a look of apprehension as she held the jewelry out to its possessor.
As soon as the gold left contact with her skin, Hermione felt as though someone were sawing through her skull. She gave an agonized cry as she stumbled backwards, tears springing to her eyes, while Draco reached forward to try and steady her.
After quickly fastening her bracelet in its place, Delilah pointed her wand at the other girl, murmuring the incantation for the sleeping charm. Hermione slumped into her intended's arms just as Migo popped into existence with Olympia.
The healer raised her eyebrows slightly but said nothing, watching as Draco picked up his betrothed and carried her into her room, gently settling her on the bed. Olympia followed him into the suite with an intrigued expression.
"Your mother asked that I simply examine her womb. I cannot treat her, she is not of the Malfoy name."
The boy brushed a hand across Hermione's left, feeling the hum of magic in her engagement ring. "I formally proposed to her, and she accepted. I also gave her a High Blessing. That ought to let you tend to her."
Olympia was silent for a moment, then nodded and set down her bag, beginning to sing as she laid her hands on the sleeping witch's forehead.
Draco folded his arms over his chest as he watched the half-siren work. True, under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have given his intended a High Blessing until after they'd consummated the marriage; but he wasn't exactly worried about her running off on him. And as it was, it was better that she have access to the privileges of his surname sooner rather than later, social faux pas though it may be. Besides, it wasn't as if anyone would know. Except…
The boy turned to see Delilah staring at him with something akin to smugness. Draco gave her a warning look.
"You will not say a word of this to anyone, do you understand?" He hissed. The young witch continued to stare at him for a moment, then ducked her head once in acknowledgement. He turned back to Olympia.
"You as well. You will not speak of this, especially not to my mother and father."
The healer paused, her eyes narrowing, but in the end she nodded and went back to humming.
It was about fifteen minutes later that Olympia stepped away from Hermione.
"She is well. Wake her so that I may examine her."
Delilah stepped forward and released the sleeping charm, and Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She began to sit up, but the healer placed a palm on her sternum and pushed her back down.
"I cannot evaluate you if you are sitting," Olympia sang, then retrieved a few instruments from her bag. Draco began to awkwardly excuse himself from the room, but the half-siren silenced him with her hand.
"You will be needed. You may stay with your intended, it is not a long nor revealing examination."
She placed what looked like a large pane of framed glass over the young witch's abdomen, then set her hand on the pane, her eyes taking on a strange glow. She hummed softly as she moved her fingers over the glass, then began handing Hermione little beakers of potions to drink, her eyes still gleaming and unfocused. After several minutes, she removed the framed panel and picked up a set of vials.
"You may sit up. I will need blood now," Olympia stated. Hermione offered her hand, and the healer pricked her second finger, catching a drop of blood in each of the glass tubes. The colored liquids at the bottom of the glasses turned clear in all but one, which turned from red to blue.
"What does that mean?" Hermione couldn't help but ask. Olympia flicked her eyes to the girl and then back to the test tube.
"You will not conceive non-magical children," she said simply, then placed the set of vials back in her bag. The last instrument she picked up looked almost like a rather odd thermometer. The healer turned to Draco.
"A finger, if you would be so kind."
The boy placed his index finger on the little device's spindle, blinking when it drew blood, and Hermione followed suit. They watched as the lines on either side of the instrument grew and shrank.
When the device seemed to have settled, Olympia studied it for several moments, then hummed and returned everything to her kit before addressing the pair.
"Mistress Malfoy will be disappointed. Not only should the two of you be able to rather easily conceive, it appears your combined bloodlines will produce quite healthy and powerful children."
Hermione stood and nodded with a self-satisfied expression. "Thank you, Olympia. You may find Mistress Malfoy and proclaim the good news."
The half-siren gave an eerie sort of smile as she dipped her head, then she glided out of the room, her long ebony waves billowing behind her. Draco threw a suspicious glance at her retreating form, then turned to his intended.
A painfully awkward silence filled the room, the betrothed couple not meeting each other's eyes as they tried to think of what to say. After too many seconds of quiet, Delilah gave an exasperated sigh.
"Stars, you two are pathetic. Congratulations, you've just been informed that you will have several darling children with low risk of health impediments. Elf!" She called. When Trilly appeared, she said, "I want three glasses of a fine Lambrusco."
Trilly disappeared and reappeared quickly, bearing the requested drinks and handing one to each of the room's occupants. Delilah held hers aloft.
"Are you two dimwits going to toast your future children, or do I have to?"
Draco and Hermione at last looked up and met one another's gaze, clinking their glasses together.
"To the children of House Malfoy," Hermione murmured, her fiancé echoing her.
As she held Draco's stare, she considered for a moment how she would feel if her children inherited the same stormcloud-silver eyes, and was unprepared for the way her heart skipped a beat.
Yes, she thought.
I would be quite alright with that.
—