Chapter Text
Chapter One. The Emergency Department
Hermione knew she was good with kids, but this was beyond the pale. She had been called down to Emergency for a 6-month-old boy. The original diagnosis was splinching, as he had been apparated in with an injured adult, but the minute Hermione looked at him she knew better and immediately cast the counter-curse and began healing the open wound on the child’s chest.
Someone had cast a sectumsempra on him. The Cutting curse.
What sort of person would do that to a baby? It couldn’t have been an accident. The hit had been dead-on and with a target that small it had to have been deliberate.
He had been gasping, unable to cry, but the minute she got the bleeding stopped he had looked right at her and then calmed down.
Hermione took a few extra minutes with the baby, just rocking him as she coaxed him to take the peds blood replenishment potion from a bottle. She was both thankful for magic and hated it all at the same time at that moment. Thankful that she was able to heal the potentially fatal wound so quickly with it, but hated that it was misuse of magic that caused the wound in the first place.
The baby had bright blond hair that fuzzed like a halo around his head, and blue-grey eyes that looked right at her like he knew who she was. The round little face looked vaguely familiar. “There Sunshine, everything will be alright now.”
The baby looked up at her and suddenly she felt chubby baby hands prying at her mind-and then she saw herself as if across a room or corridor.
She was a child again, at Hogwarts, in her Gryffindor robes, hugging her books to her chest like she always had done. Somewhere nearby she heard Harry’s voice, carrying in that warm, friendly way he always had;
“Hermione!”
She shook her head hard in the present, blinking at the baby in her arms.
Then another memory flashed before her minds eye.
She was in the owlery, with her Gryffindor scarf wrapped warmly around her neck. She could almost smell the hay and musk, and almost feel the cold of the air. “Hello, Granger.”
Was that Malfoys voice?
She frowned for a split second in the memory, and then offered a tight smile, with a curt response of “Malfoy,”
Definitely Malfoy then.
The baby watched her closely, then she saw a memory of a familiar hallway, and a photograph of herself and Blaise at their medical graduation, wearing their doctor’s robes for the first time, raising their fists in celebration, and saw Blaise’s hand pointing to her face.
“…and that’s my friend ‘Mione, you’d like her.”
What on earth was going on?
How could a baby have memories of her from Hogwarts?
Then another memory-Blaise holding the blond infant in front of his hall mirror- “Who’s that in the mirror?” He asked, his face in a bright grin, “There’s my Scorpy!” And the baby laughed, delighted at the game.
A knock on the door frame brought her back to the present as a nurse joined her, “…Dr. Granger, is everything all right in here?”
Hermione’s head jerked up, and she offered a quick smile, “Everything is fine, thank you. We’re just finishing up the bottle here. He’ll need a bottle of formula after this though. If you can get that together, I’ll hand him off to you to finish feeding him.”
“Yes ma’am.” The nurse nodded, “I’ll just get the next bottle right quick and take over.”
When the nurse returned Hermione handed the baby to her, “Get some rest, Sunshine,” Hermione said softly, as the nurse adjusted the bundle of blond magic in her arms.
He fussed a little while the nurse shook the bottle to ensure the mix was complete. Hermione brushed her finger down his nose, making him blink sleepily.
“There ya go, he’ll probably go right to sleep.” the nurse said, offering him the bottle.
“Perfect. He’s had a hard day, he needs the rest.” Hermione said, “Let me know if anything changes.” And she left, her mind still full of the memories she had seen.
~~~
“Lucille, what do we know about the baby in 206?” Hermione asked as she came through the nurses station after the baby had settled and was resting peacefully.
Lucille flipped through a stack of parchment, “…Father brought him in. Sandy said the dad looked pretty beat up himself and was barely coherent. We took the baby, and Zabini took the father to room…” she glanced back at the paper “…309.”
Just then Zabini’s patronus, a cocker spaniel, bounded up to the station with a recorded message;
“Under no circumstances is Scorpius Malfoy to be surrendered to his mother. She intentionally caused his injuries today.” Even through the echos the magic created and Blaise’s professional affect, Hermione could hear the tension and anger in his voice.
Hermione’s breath caught.
Malfoy.
Of course.
The memories all made more sense now. The Owlry was Draco’s memory. And this was his son.
It had been all over the papers and Witch Weekly: The wedding and subsequent honeymoon baby. Blaise had been all but bouncing when he was named godfather.
But what sort of mother would curse their baby?
What sort of PERSON would curse an infant ? Her heart hurt for the Malfoy family.
Hermione nodded at Lucille and moved back down to room 206 and recast the wards.
Normally the wards on each of the pediatric patient rooms only allowed entrance of approved medical personnel and blood relatives of the occupant. In this situation, Hermione decided that in an abundance of caution, she would ward against all of the child’s blood relations except his father.
Once that was done, and the medi-witch on duty in the infants room informed of the changes, Hermione decided to take a few minutes and go down to trauma and check on Blaise and his patient and give an in person update on the baby.
Blaise had become a trusted colleague and good friend during their medical apprenticeship and she knew he had been best friends with Draco all throughout school. He had been there for her when she and Ron had broken up while Harry and Ginny were on their honeymoon. She remembered that argument like it was yesterday, even though it had been five years ago. Ron hadn’t wanted to get married and she decided she wasn’t going to waste her life waiting for him.
Blaise had been her shoulder to cry on, the one to cut her off when she went too deep into the bottle or more often her textbooks. And she, in turn, had been there for him when he’d fallen in love with Luna Lovegood, encouraging him when his Slytherin friends had laughed in his face.
He had kept his friendship with Draco close to his chest but she knew that her schoolhouse bully and former Death Eater nemesis had made a full turn around, starting when he gave Harry his wand during the Battle of Hogwarts. She knew he had been seeing a therapist for a couple of years and making huge strides toward overcoming his prejudices and trauma.
Blaise was pacing the corridor outside Draco Malfoy’s hospital room.
“Blaise!” she called as she approached the tense wizard.
He looked up and fire burned in his eyes, “I’m going to kill her when I find her Hermione.”
“Is it that bad?”
He turned and walked with her to Draco’s door. “Hell ‘Mione, I’ve been telling him to report her for months! Since she found out she was pregnant she’s been nothing but nasty to him, and it just keeps getting worse. He’s been trying to hide it from me but he forgets I can see through his lies and know a concealing charm when I see one.”
Hermione followed Blaise into the room and sucked in a sharp breath.
Draco Malfoy was almost unrecognizable.
He looked like he had been beaten by a troll. Both eyes were blacked, one was fresh, the other half healed. His nose had been broken, and he had bandages on his arms and chest. Half healed cuts and bruises littered his body making his old scars stand out all the more from his normally pale and now technicolor skin.
The domestic abuse he had obviously been suffering from for the past year made her stomach twist.
She instantly reviewed her examination of little Scorpius downstairs. The only injuries he had had were a small bruise on his arm and the curse that had nearly killed him.
Malfoy had obviously been protecting his child as best as he could.
Blaise gave her the medical run down of Draco’s injuries. It was as bad as it looked.
Broken bones, cuts, bruises, Astoria had used the Cruciatus on him at least twice that day, possibly consistently over the past year, though Blaise couldn’t say for sure as he knew Draco’s father and aunt had favored that unforgivable curse as a punishment as well.
“…How’s my godson?” Blaise asked finally after a few beats of silence.
The fact that Hermione hadn’t lead off with the baby when she had first come up told Blaise that things were going well in the pediatric department downstairs.
“He is well. He will of course have scars, but he took the peds B.R. potion well, and was resting peacefully when I came up. We didn’t know who he was until you sent up about his mother.”
“You took care of the wards right?”
“Personally. Draco is the only family member allowed entrance.”
Draco shifted at the sound of his name and started to come-to with a grunt, half of pain, half of fear. He seemed dazed, his mind still obviously at the manor with his abusive wife.
His eyes focused quickly and he struggled to sit up.
“Oy, Drake! Lay still.” Blaise started forward to press his best friend back down to the bed.
“Scorpius!” Draco clutched Blaise’s arm, “my son. Where is he? Is he alright? Is he safe? She tried to kill him!” He was frantic with fear.
“He’s fine, Drake, calm down!” Blaise said, moving to keep Draco from coming off the cot.
“Your son is safe and well, Mr. Malfoy, I performed the counter curse myself, and your wife will not be able to harm him again while he is under my care.” Hermione said gently and professionally as she joined Blaise by the bedside.
Draco’s attention snapped to her, blinking, shocked, like he’d seen a ghost.
“Hermione?” Draco said as Blaise laid him back on the cot, “Er - Ms. Granger- Dr. Granger.” He stumbled over her name and appropriate address. Once upon a time he might have stumbled upon ‘Dr. Mudblood ’.
Hermione nodded professionally.
They weren’t friends, but they weren’t enemies anymore either.
He held her gaze for a long moment, searching for some hidden concern about Scorpius.
“You can rest easy, Mr. Malfoy. He is alive and well.” Hermione reassured him when the fear didn’t leave his eyes.
Draco returned her nod, finally swallowing the panic and fear. “Thank you, Dr. Granger.”
Blaise stood back on his heel, satisfied his patient wasn’t going to throw himself on the floor in a panic, but still mad as hornets. “Mate, how many times have I told you to report your abusive bitch of a wife?”
Draco winced as he drew a long breath, “She needs help, Zabini. Not a trip to Azkaban—”
“—But she won’t get help, Drake.” Zabini shot back, “She would have already if she was going to—”
“—I have to keep trying,” Draco said, “For Scorp’s sake.”
Blaise bristled, “No. You have to divorce her for Scorps sake. She nearly killed you both today!” Blaise was almost shouting now, “She won’t get help, and you staying is only allowing her to hurt you. You don’t have to be a damn martyr, Malfoy!”
There was a ghost in Draco’s face. A memory of a boy trapped between two impossible choices. A man responsible for a child who would have to make similar ones if nothing changed.
“You can’t make anyone accept the help they need,” Hermione offered. Draco’s eyes flicked to her for a moment, then they closed, turning to the library in his own mind.
“I’m with Blaise on this,” she continued, “you can choose to remain in a harmful situation if you wish, but your son doesn’t deserve this.”
“Damn Right,” Blaise agreed, “Drake- I’m not going to let you make the same mistake your mum did. Luna and I will be keeping Scorpius until you get your shit together.” he crossed his arms.
Malfoy’s eyes flashed, a familiar anger coming upon his face. “You cannot take my son from me, Zabini.” He said coldly.
“Like hell I can’t!” Blaise threw his hands up, “I’m his Godfather! If your batshit crazy wife kills you because you don’t have the balls to kick her ass out, he comes to me anyway.”
Hermione expected a response from Malfoy, but he seemed too tired to do more than scoff as Blaise continued, “I’m just short-cutting the process. You’ll still turn up dead, and I’ll still be stuck burying you, but at least the Malfoy line survives.”
“Zabini—” Draco began, but Zabini continued to talk over him.
“We could pass him off as Luna’s at least. Maybe not mine, but definitely hers.”
Draco gave up on defending or explaining and sat quietly as Blaise continued, “We can change his name to Xen. He’ll be safe, and loved, and learn all about wrackspruts and snorklepacts or whatever the fuck they’re called. Luna’s been asking when I wanted to start a family. This is a little quicker than we were expecting, but it’s what we agreed to when we accepted being his godparents, isn’t it?”
The room was quiet for a long minute as Blaise caught his breath. The duel continued silently for a moment as the two stared at each other in unspoken argument. Then Draco’s eyes closed again, exhausted. his shoulders shook slightly as he exhaled, and when his eyes opened again they were glassy with tears. “Blaise,”
“Yeah, Drake?” Blaise responded equally gently.
“Thank you for caring about me and my son.”
“I love you, man. But I really wish the days of wondering whether you’d still be alive at the end of the fucking week had ended with Voldemort.”
Hermione almost held her breath, not wanting to interrupt the progress in this tired argument and their own masculine feelings.
Finally Draco sighed.
“I’m assuming I’ll be stuck here for a few days…?”
Blaise nodded and the spell was broken. “At least. You’re going to need rest.”
“Alright. Get my solicitor in here, and if Scorp is well enough to go home before me, have Luna take him if she can.” Draco said.
Blaise smiled wearily and nodded, “Done.”
“Will you be telling the grandmothers what happened?” Hermione asked, “The wards on Scorpius’s room don’t allow them to visit at the moment, and he won’t be allowed to leave until tomorrow at the very earliest.”
“Solicitor first,” Draco said, “I want the paperwork done before either my mother or hers can try and talk me out of it. Until then leave the wards as they are.”
Blaise nodded again, “I’ll call MacReynolds now.” He patted his friend on the shoulder gently, “you’re doing the right thing mate.”
Draco took a deep breath and nodded, gripping Blaise’s hand firmly.
Beside Blaise’s dark skin Draco looked terminally pallid.
Hermione started to go as well, following Blaise to the door.
“Dr. Granger.” Draco called.
She paused in the doorway, “Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”
“My son. How is he really?”
“He is going to be fine. The counter-curse was successful, he took the healing potion well, and when I left he was resting. I expect that he’ll have some scarring, but he’s going to be okay.”
Draco’s hand moved to his chest and Hermione remembered how Harry had told her he had used the same curse on Draco during their 6th year.
“…Will they pain him like mine do?”
Hermione’s heart twisted in her chest at the grief and fear in his voice.
“We don’t know,” She said carefully, “Possibly. It isn’t a common curse, thank heavens. And we don’t know how much of your pain is caused from the curse itself and how much is from the interaction between those scars and the repeated Cruciatus you have suffered… My opinion is that it should be an unforgivable curse; It is dark magic, and that always leaves an indelible mark.”
The amount of physical pain this man must have suffered over the years.
How much of it did he still carry with him every day?
“But Scorpius is young, and I think that his odds of making a full recovery are good.” Hermione offered.
Draco nodded silently, looking at the ceiling to avoid her eyes.
“Would you like to see him?” She asked after a moment.
A new hope lit his face, “Could I?”
“Of course, he will be free to go home in the morning provided he doesn’t have any reactions to the BR potion, or other complications through the night.”
“Then yes, please.” Draco said.
“I’ll go get him and bring him down to you.” Hermione responded.
Draco nodded to her, “Thank you, Dr. Granger.”
Hermione returned his nod, and left for the peds floor again.