Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy	By : AnasellaEmm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 75943 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter related characters, places and themes belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Scholastic.
A/N: thanks for all the reviews, guys! The chapter title comes from the song “Someone to Save You” by OneRepublic.
Chapter 20: I Don’t Want to Lose You Now
“Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy?”
Draco and Hermione quickly looked up when they heard the Healer’s voice. They had been sitting, pacing, standing, and leaning against the wall of the waiting area on the ground floor of St. Mungo’s for the past hour, and their nerves were beyond frayed.
The elderly Healer approached them and gave them a small smile. “You can go in to see him now, but I must warn you that he’s still sleeping and probably won’t wake for another hour or so.”
They barely heard what he said as they made their way into the dim hospital room. Zane lay on the hospital bed looking very small against the large, white sheets around him. His skin was paler than usual, but slowly gaining color around some of the assorted scrapes and scratches. A blue box stood on a pole next to his bed and gave off a green glow every few seconds.
Hermione was the first to make a sound as she released a shuddered sob, walking slowly to the hospital bed. Draco stood right behind her, unable to take his eyes away from his son’s still body. As Hermione’s shoulders shook with silent tears, he put a hand on her back and a hand on Zane’s arm.
“You’re lucky you brought him in so quickly,” the Healer interrupted from the other side of the bed. “His head wound could have resulted in permanent damage, but you’re also lucky that the bushes broke his fall.”
“He’s going to be alright?” Draco asked, never moving his gaze away from his son.
“I expect a full recovery,” the Healer said jovially. “He didn’t lose too much blood, but we gave him a blood replenishing potion just to be sure. He broke his wrist and dislocated his shoulder, but we fixed him right up, and the only things we have to worry about now are the scrapes and bruises. One of our matron-witches will be in shortly to heal them with a simple salve and spell.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said quietly with a sniffle.
“We have a public floo down the hall in case you’d like to contact anyone, keep them updated on your son’s progress,” the Healer said as he walked out of the room.
When the Healer left the room, the couple stayed silent as they watched Zane. The only noise that broke the silence was Hermione’s occasional sniffle and staggered breath.
“I’m going to floo your parents,” she finally said after a few moments.
Draco nodded and stepped back to let her pass, unable to do anything but stare at the child on the bed… his child… his flesh and blood… his life. Zane looked so peaceful, lying there, sleeping, his lips set in a small pout and his face decorated with four different scrapes along his jaw, cheeks and forehead.
Draco wasn’t a believer in muggle theology or even magical mythology, but he sent up a prayer of thanks to whatever controlled their destinies and fates. Something or someone out there was looking out for his son when his tiny body crashed into the bushes first instead of directly onto the sidewalk. The advancements of magical medicine had made it easy for the Healers to quickly patch up his son without any complications.
He stretched out his hand and pushed away the dark blond strands falling into Zane’s closed eyes. His entire heart was held in his son’s small hands, with just a little left over to fall into the hands of his wife. He couldn’t ask for a more idealistic family, for a more perfect existence. If he had lost his son… his life would have never been the same. Sure, he would have had Hermione… but she didn’t love him back, and her presence in their lives was almost coming to an end.
As he stood at his son’s bedside, he vowed to himself and to his son that he would not let his small family fall apart. He would make sure Hermione knew how he felt about her. He loved her and needed her in his life, and not just as a mother for his son, but as a wife for him. He was going to be selfish and want something because he wanted it and not just because his son needed it.
If she didn’t feel the same way for him, then he would convince her that he couldn’t live without her. He would court her until she loved him, until she forgot about their past and embraced a future he would try and make perfect.
He leaned down and gently kissed his son’s forehead, smiling slightly when his heart filled with hope and anticipation. He would never let his son come to such harm again, and he would have Hermione in their lives permanently…
Donny felt her eyes burn with unshed tears, yet she refused to give in to the urge to weep. Oliver was a few steps behind her as she walked towards the information desk at St. Mungo’s. He caught up to her and placed a comforting hand on her waist
“Hi, yes, I’m looking for a patient,” Donny said quickly.
“Last name?” the lady behind the information desk asked distractedly.
“Malfoy,” Donny replied.
She felt Oliver stiffen beside her and his hand squeeze against her waist.
“First name?” the lady asked, running her tongue over her teeth and winking at Oliver once she recognized him.
“Zane,” Donny said impatiently.
“He’s in room 421 down this hallway and to the left,” she answered.
Donny quickly uttered a ‘thank you’ and grabbed Oliver’s hand to drag him down the hall.
“Ye never told me Zane was a Malfoy,” Oliver said, slowing Donny’s quick stride with a tug of his hand.
Donny whirled around and gave him a confused stare. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m no’ exactly friends with his father,” he replied. “The Malfoy family supported ye-know-who and the younger one was a little, cheatin’, spoiled brat when we were in school.”
“I wouldn’t care if he was you-know-who’s boyfriend,” Donny said in a fierce whisper, her eyes now burning with anger. “He’s a dear friend and he’s married to Hermione. He’s obviously changed his ways since the time you were in school, and this doesn’t even matter! His son is in the hospital! Now is not the time to worry about schoolboy grudges!”
“Iss no’ about schoolboy grudges, Donatella, it goes deeper than that,” he tried explaining.
“Deeper how?” she asked impatiently.
“He always cheated during our Quidditch matches,” he finally said with a triumphant look.
She blinked at him twice and then narrowed her eyes. “Listen here, Oliver Wood, and you listen closely… I don’t give two figs about some stupid school matches that don’t have any significance on our lives now. If you can’t be civil to him and to his family, then you might as well turn around and leave. I’ve grown very close to his family and I won’t stop my association with them. So, if you want me, you’ll have to deal with them, too.”
This time, Oliver blinked twice at her and then clenched his jaw in defeat. By God, that little fireball he called a girlfriend had a way of putting him in his place. Some tiny, tiny part of his brain knew he was being a tad immature for holding grudges, but the rest of his brain (the part dominated by Quidditch… and sex) said that he could be civil to the Malfoys whenever he was around them and then secretly despise them when alone.
“Verra well,” he said with a forced smile. “I apologize.”
“Hmph,” she quickly harrumphed and then continued their walk to the designated room.
They entered the room a few moments later to find Hermione and Draco at their positions next to Zane’s bed. Lucius and Narcissa sat on a chaise lounge near the window. Narcissa was looking down at her hands and dabbing at her nose with a handkerchief. Lucius looked bored.
“How is he?” Donny asked quietly, trying her hardest to keep her emotions in check. There really was no need for another weepy woman in the room.
“He’s going to be fine,” Hermione said with a small smile. She was sitting in a chair to Zane’s right and holding his tiny hand in hers. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Donny nodded silently and walked towards the bed to wrap Hermione in a hug. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“Who is your friend, dear?” Narcissa suddenly asked, blinking rapidly and giving everyone a smile.
“Oh, this is Oliver,” Donny said, quickly introducing him to everyone. When she was through, she took a seat on the floor next to Hermione. She was glad that Oliver didn’t act like anything was out of the ordinary but just extended kind comments to the Malfoys. “So, what exactly happened? You were a bit vague when you flooed us,” Donny asked Hermione.
“Yes, what did happen?” Narcissa asked. “How did Zane fall?”
Draco and Hermione both glanced at the floor, their postures tensing with unease. No one expected them to blurt out, “It was my fault,” at the same time.
They quickly looked back up at each other, their brows furrowed and their mouths slightly open in disbelief.
“What are you talking about?” Draco asked incredulously. “If I hadn’t left my broom out…”
“If I hadn’t left the balcony door open,” Hermione cut in sharply. “This would have never happened.”
“I should have put my broom away, but I didn’t,” Draco said with a note of finality.
“I should have closed the balcony door behind me, but I didn’t,” she replied back. “Your son is lying in the hospital because of me! Don’t even think about taking the blame because you think it will make me feel better, because it won’t!”
Draco exhaled in annoyance. “I’m not taking the blame to make you feel better. He doesn’t like going out onto the balcony, so because I left the broom out, he decided to take it for a ride and it happened to go out over the railing.”
“You’re being impossible,” Hermione muttered.
“And you’re being stu--.”
“Enough!” Lucius’s silky voice interrupted their spat. “The sound of your voices is getting on my absolute last nerve. Now, do us all a favor and keep your mouths shut.”
“Really, father,” Draco frowned, “stay out…”
“Do not finish that statement,” Lucius replied sharply. “The both of you need to realize that what’s happened has happened and that nothing can change it. Zane is going to be fine, so the blame game can end now. To keep you from further argument, I’ll let you know that it’s frankly both your faults. If the
two of you hadn’t been careless, none of this would have happened. The blame can be divided equally amongst yourselves.”
“Oh, Lucius do be quiet,” Narcissa snapped. “Things happen and we can’t interfere with what fate has planned. All we can do is be grateful when things turn out for the best, which they have. Zane is going to be fine. Hermione and Draco now know never to leave a broom out again and to always close the balcony door behind them. Parents learn from their mistakes, and you of all people should know that.”
Lucius curled his lip at his wife and grasped the head of his cane harder to keep a lid on his temper.
“When I was seven I wet my pants in front of my entire class back in primary school,” Donny said from the floor. “They called me ‘sprinkler’ until I was twelve.”
Everyone in the room stared at her with confused looks.
She stared back at them with an innocent expression. “What? Aren’t we trying to make each other feel as uncomfortable as possible? I thought that was the game.”
Narcissa was the first laugh, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Donatella, my darling, you surely are a delight.”
“I do try,” Donny shrugged with a smile. “Now, I’m going to go grab some drinks. Can I bring you all something?”
“Just some water,” Narcissa said.
“Some whiskey or cognac would be welcome,” Lucius muttered
Donny raised an eyebrow at the older aristocrat. “Water it is.”
Narcissa patted her husband’s hand and watched Donny and Oliver leave the room. “Isn’t that the young man that Donatella never seems to stop talking about?” Narcissa asked.
“Yes,” Hermione responded. “They’ve been dating for a while now.”
“Well, how splendid! She deserves to be happy,” Narcissa said with a nod. She paused for a moment and glanced at her son and daughter-in-law, noticing their tense dispositions and frowns. “Are the two of you alright?”
“I’m fine, mother,” Draco bit out.
“Don’t you take that tone of voice with your mother,” Lucius hurled back.
Draco rolled his eyes and his frown deepened. He looked up at Hermione and she looked at him. She gave him a tentative smile, assuring him that she wasn’t upset. He gave her a small grin back, love filling his heart for her.
Lucius sneered at them. He muttered to his wife, “They need to stop making goo-goo eyes at each other before I vomit. It’s utterly disgusting.”
“It’s utterly romantic,” she replied.
He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “The only other sane person in this room is unfortunately unconscious at the moment and, sadly, under the age of five. I really cannot wait until he wakes.”
“Neither can I, darling,” Narcissa assured him before placing her head on his shoulder. He always was such a softie. She also knew how to deal with him. She smiled wickedly to herself and inwardly celebrated when his hand covered hers. What a sap!
Everyone looked up when the door swung open, expecting Donny and Oliver to be back, but the elderly Healer stepped in instead, his face grim and a young matron-witch close behind him. They stayed silent as the matron-witch checked on Zane and checked the box next to his bed. “Everything is on track,” she said before leaving the room.
The Healer, Healer Khan, a brilliant wizard from Karachi, took a deep breath before looking at Draco and Hermione. “You have some guests,” he said slowly. “I’m obligated to let them in.”
Before he could say anything else, the door opened again to reveal Rhonda Westin, their dowdy and inept DMP, two burly gentlemen behind her, and Blaise Zabini, looking angrier than anyone had ever seen him.
“I believe I told you it was unnecessary to bring these men with you, Miss Westin. You’re embarrassing everyone, including yourself,” Blaise said in a hiss, continuing an argument he must have started out in the hall.
“What’s going on?” Hermione asked, her heart beating an odd cadence against her ribcage.
“Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I’m so sorry about what happened to your son,” Rhonda said, pushing her glasses up her nose with her finger and looking nervously at Lucius and Narcissa. The two of them were glaring at her all too obviously. “I was informed by Matron-Witch Ashford that Zane was brought in this morning. According to policy, the hospital must inform the Ministry when a child on the Watch-Guard list is hospitalized.”
“The Watch-Guard list?” Draco asked slowly.
Blaise sneered at Rhonda. “It’s the list of all the children and families that are going through DMP inspections. When a child on that list ends up in any hospital in the magical community, your DMP is alerted and so is your Judicial Advocate.”
“Zane is going to survive, sir?” Rhonda asked Healer Khan, who had stayed silent.
He frowned in disapproval and nodded curtly. “Zane is as good as new at the moment. He’s just sleeping off the potions we’ve given him. Every two hours I’m giving him a pain-relieving draught which keeps him asleep. He should awaken in about four to six hours.”
“I’ve looked over his medical chart…” she started to say.
“You had no right to do that,” Healer Khan said angrily. “The patient’s chart is only for the eyes of the hospital staff.”
Rhonda gulped, pushing her glasses up again. “Actually, as Zane is on the Watch-Guard list, his records are deemed accessible to his DMP, which is me.”
“Why are you here?” Lucius finally asked. He never did like the hemming and hawing people exhibited in dire situations.
Her eyes widened in fear at being addressed by the eldest Malfoy. “Um… I’m actually here for some unpleasant business. I’m afraid that I am duty-bound to inform you that Zane’s custody case has come to an end.”
“The six months aren’t over yet,” Hermione said nervously, her hand gripping Zane’s harder. “We still have a little over two months before the inspection period is over.”
“Due to this unfortunate circumstance, the fact that Zane nearly died in your care, the Ministry has decided to end the inspection period and grant full custody to Zane’s biological mother.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione nearly screeched. “You’re going to give our son to that deranged woman?!”
Rhonda’s eyes shifted nervously around the room. “Uh… it’s not me. The Department of Social and Family Services has decided it would be best for Mrs. D’Aggostino to have full custody of her son. The papers have been filed and signed, and as of an hour ago, you are no longer the rightful guardians of Zane.”
The slight buzzing sound coming from the machine next to Zane’s bed was the only sound after Rhonda’s startling announcement. Nobody dared to say anything, only dropped jaws, wide eyes and several glares were exchanged.
“You’re not serious,” Narcissa said after a moment. “You cannot possibly be serious.”
Rhonda bit the inside of her cheek. “I am very serious. Mrs. D’Aggostino has asked that her son be left in the care of the hospital until she can portkey from France,” she cleared her throat, “which means, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Leave?” Draco croaked, his mind unable to comprehend everything that was going on. He looked at Blaise, needing to know that there was something that could be done.
Blaise gave his oldest friend a sad shake of his head. “The official papers state that as you two are no longer Zane’s legal guardians, you have no right to be with him.” Blaise lowered his head and crossed his
arms over his chest. “It has been documented that you two are a threat to Zane’s safety and that you are to stay away from him until another custody case can be determined to settle any joint-custody agreements.”
“When… how long… when can I see my son again?” Draco stammered.
“You can file for joint-custody in a year,” Rhonda replied nervously.
“A year?!” Hermione and Draco cried at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” Rhonda repeated.
“There has to be something… anything,” Hermione tried. “You can’t take him away from us. Pansy is an awful mother! She doesn’t love her son and her inspections should prove what an unfit mother she is.”
“Her inspections have proven to be adequate enough to raise a child,” Rhonda mentioned. “She hasn’t gotten stellar reviews by her DMP, but she also received Zane by default. As long as she never failed an inspection, she gets to have him because you two did fail.”
“I absolutely won’t accept this,” Draco said stubbornly, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “You can’t take him away from me.”
“Draco, mate, you have no choice,” Blaise said softly. “It was ordered and judged by a member of the Wizengamot who was following the case from the beginning. I tried everything I could to get an appeal, but they said we have to wait a year.”
“I won’t be able to see him for a year? A whole year?” Draco said choking on his words. “But… but he’s my son! He’s my goddamn son!”
“Draco,” Lucius said calmly, coming to stand beside his son. “If they say we must leave, then we must leave.”
Draco shook his head. “I can’t leave him. They can’t take him away from me.”
Hermione blinked back tears, her vision turning red in her anger. How could this be happening? How could they even think of taking Zane away from them? Heredity be damned, she and Draco were Zane’s true parents!
“Do we get to visit him, at the very least?” she had to ask.
Rhonda shook her head. “I’m sorry. There are no visitation rights until you file your petition for joint-custody.”
A year from now, they would be able to see him again…
“Can we wait until he’s awake to say goodbye?” she asked.
“It was decided that it would be best for Zane if you left while he was sleeping. It will have less psychological damage on him...”
“Don’t you dare talk about psychological damage!” Hermione finally exploded. “You’re going to take him from his loving parents and give him to a woman who has the mental capacity of a flag pole! She has never known how to take care of her son, and I swear to every soul in this universe that if she harms him in any way or makes him upset even the slightest bit, then I’ll make every single employee of the Ministry wish they had never been born.”
She glared at Rhonda and the two men with her. Turning around and facing Zane, she kissed his cheek and stroked her hand down his face, biting back a sob as she turned and left the room.
“You have to leave now, Mr. Malfoy,” Rhonda said shakily. “I had to bring reinforcements in case you refused.”
Draco glanced at the two men who could have body-doubled for Crabbe and Goyle. His fists squeezed at his side and then slowly unclenched, all his energy leaving him. He took one last look at his son, afraid that if he touched him he wouldn’t be able to let go.
He pushed past the DMP and the two men and left the hospital room in a rush, Blaise following quickly after him.
Lucius and Narcissa left after Narcissa kissed her grandson and then gave Rhonda one of the coldest, wicked glares the poor woman had ever received in her life. Lucius may or may not have accidentally pressed his walking stick down onto the woman’s shoe firmly as he passed.
“And there’s no way you can fight this?” Donny asked as she sat in Draco and Hermione’s living room.
Hermione shook her head.
“There has to be something.” This came from Harry. He had come over as soon as he’d heard the news. Despite their differences over her marrying Draco, he was still one of Hermione’s closest friends and wouldn’t ever dream of not being there for her when she needed him. “Do you think if I said something, maybe they’d let you keep him?”
“Harry, I know how much you hate flaunting your status as the magic world’s savior, so you don’t have to do that,” Hermione said tonelessly. “Plus, they would never give him back just because you want it so. The papers have been signed, Pansy arrived soon after we left, and she now has her son back.”
Harry, Ron, Donny and Oliver stared at Hermione as she lay on her side on the couch, her legs curled up to her waist and her eyes blank as she stared at the wall across the room. She’d been like that since she arrived at the flat. Without Draco.
“Where’s Malfoy?” Ron asked.
Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know. I thought he apparated here, but he’s not home.”
“I hope he’s ok,” Donny said with a sigh. “Narcissa told me he wasn’t at the manor when I flooed her. She told me that he’ll be alright after a while on his own. She said he’s not used to not getting his way.”
“It completely destroyed him,” Hermione said huskily, her throat clogged with unshed tears. “The look in his eyes when they told him that he’d have to wait a year to see his son…”
Her words trailed off and her features became even blanker, as if she refused to let any emotion take precedence on her face.
“You can all go home,” she said after a long moment of silence. “You don’t have to stay here with me. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Ron and Harry said at the same time.
“I said I’m fine!” she snapped. “I’d like to be alone. Go!”
They looked at each other, not used to this side of Hermione. They didn’t understand the extent of her feelings. Zane had become her son. He had become her son and then had been snatched away from her. She hated feeling useless. She hated feeling helpless. She couldn’t do anything and she worried about her son. She worried about Draco, too.
Her four guests left silently, Donny leaving a glass of water and piece of fruit in front of Hermione to remind her to eat.
As the sun set, the room darkened without the benefit of any of the lights left on, leaving Hermione to slowly let her teardrops fall one by one as she became surrounded in her suffocating loneliness and despair.
Draco stared at the graffiti smeared across the brick wall of the dilapidated building. After aimlessly wandering the streets in London, he had found himself sitting on a rubbish bin in the alley behind a low-quality pub.
A rat scurried on its way, brushing up against his leg. Any other time, he probably would have squealed (in that manly sort of way, of course) and jumped up running. At that moment, though, he barely even blinked…
He didn’t even know what to think about. It seemed as if his mind has been purposely thinking of random, inane things to avoid thinking about the crushing pain he knew he should be feeling. His thought process had gone from thinking about the ingredients in jelly beans, why some coins had ridges around them and others not, all the way to thinking about why some people had curly hair and others had straight hair.
After thinking about those clearly important, universal issues, his brain had shut down, leaving nothing to think about. He could only perceive things. He would look at the brick wall and think: this is a brick wall; there is graffiti on it; the graffiti colors consist of red, black and blue; there are 549 bricks in that brick wall…
As he walked, he counted the cracks on the sidewalk, not once thinking that his son had been sprawled on a sidewalk just that morning. No, he never let his brain think about that. It had more important things to do. He had to count the fucking cracks in the sidewalk. One crack. Two cracks. Three cracks. Four, five, six, seven sodding cracks.
Eventually, he would make it home. He had to make sure Hermione was there and that she was doing fine. She was his wife, the only woman he had ever loved, and he had abandoned her when they probably needed each other the most. He would think about what a prick he was later. Right now, he had to count more sidewalk cracks.
His tummy hurt.
That was Zane’s first thought upon waking up. His tummy hurt and he felt very sleepy. He yawned and blinked slowly. His nose scrunched up in confusion when he realized he wasn’t in his room at home. He wasn’t in his mummy and daddy’s room either. He wasn’t in the living room or even at Gamma and Gampa’s house! How strange.
He looked down at the bed surrounding him. It was a very big bed. The sheets were a deep gold color and the room he was in was also very big. Where were his mummy and daddy?
Oh no!
The broom! What had happened? Did his daddy catch him before he fell? Did he actually fly back into the flat? That couldn’t be right; he remembered slipping off the handle. Where on earth was he?
“Oh, good, you’re up,” a familiar voice said from the doorway of the room.
Zane turned his head to the door and stared at Pansy as she walked in with a sweet smile on her face (a rare occurrence). What was Pansy doing there?
“Where are my mummy and daddy?” Zane asked. It hurt to talk. His voice was all itchy! His lower lip quivered as he stared at Pansy. He really, really wanted to see his mummy and daddy.
“Darling, I’m your mummy,” Pansy said softly, approaching the bed and sitting on the edge of it.
“No, you’re not,” he insisted. “I’m thirsty. My throat hurts.”
She picked up a glass of water from the bedside table and helped the little boy drink from it, afraid he’d spill the water on her Egyptian cotton sheets.
“Where’s Mummy? Where’s Daddy?” he asked again after he finished drinking.
“Zane, I am your mummy,” she said again, placing the glass back on the bedside table. “Your daddy and his wife are in England at your old home. You live here now.”
“I wanna go to them, please,” he said. Maybe if he said please then she would take him to his mummy and daddy. He didn’t want to be here anymore.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t. This is your new house, Zane. You have your own room and you get to stay with your mummy and your new daddy!”
“My mummy is here?” he asked with a spurt of excitement. Where was his mummy? Was she hiding? “Can I see her?”
“Zane, I don’t like repeating myself. I am your mummy. I have always been your mummy, and I will always be your mummy. That other woman is your step-mother.”
He knew that word! Gampa and that lady with the glasses always called his mummy that word!
“Where’s daddy?”
“You have a new daddy now,” Pansy said with a big grin. “He can’t wait to meet you.”
She had no qualms with lying. The kid was only three years old; how would he know any different?
“I have to potty,” he said urgently.
“Oh,” she breathed nervously. “The bathroom is through that door over there.” She pointed to a door on the wall to their right.
He slowly crawled out of bed and ran for the bathroom. He finished his business and while he washed his hands, just like daddy had taught him, he wondered how he would make Pansy understand that he wanted to go home.
He walked back out to the room and stood in the doorway between the bathroom and the bedroom, staring at Pansy as she fiddled with her nails.
“Pansy, I want to go home now,” he said, trying to sound like his Gampa. When Gampa spoke like that, people did what he wanted.
“You mustn’t call me Pansy, Zane; that’s rude. You will call me mummy. Is that understood?”
He nodded quickly, not wanting to upset her. He just wanted to go home.
“Where’s Rosie?” he asked. “I can’t sleep without him.”
“I don’t know who that is,” she said. “This is your room. You will sleep in here.”
“This isn’t my room,” he insisted. Pansy was crazy; seriously, she didn’t know anything! “Where are my toys? Where is Rosie?”
“We’ll get you some toys tomorrow when you’re feeling better. Now, come back into bed and get some sleep. You’ve been through a lot today and you need to rest.”
“But… but I can’t sleep without Rosie. Mummy and Daddy always tuck me in and give me a big kiss, and then they tell me a story for I can go to sleep!”
His eyes filled with tears and his tiny fists clenched at his sides. His Malfoy temper was starting to surface, and stupid Pansy wasn’t listening to him!
“I can read you a story and I can give you a kiss, Zane,” she tried. “I’m your mummy, now, so why can’t you accept it?”
“I want Rosie!” he sobbed, his breath hitching as he cried. “I just want to go home!”
Pansy gulped nervously and glanced at the small boy crying in the doorway of the bathroom, his body wracked with sobs.
“If I will get you this Rosie thing, will you go to sleep?”
Zane stopped crying long enough to think about her offer. He wanted to go home. Rosie would be nice, but he really, really wanted to go home.
“Rosie is my di-osaur,” he hiccoughed.
“Oh! It’s a toy,” she said excitedly. “A dinosaur toy, it seems. Is it soft or hard?”
What a stupid question. “Rosie is soft and green and he’s my favorite.”
He watched her grab her wand and grab the empty glass of water. He watched as she transfigured the glass of water into a toy dinosaur. It was green, and it was smaller than Rosie.
“That’s not Rosie,” he said.
Pansy looked stricken and glanced down at the toy in her hand. “This is… uh… this is Posey. She’s Rosie’s sister.”
“Rosie doesn’t have sisters,” Zane said. “He’s just like me.”
“He does have a sister that nobody knew about,” she insisted. “Her name is Posey and she’s really nice.”
Zane sniffed and looked at the dinosaur held in Pansy’s hand. It looked a little bit like Rosie, and it was a toy, so that was good. He slowly approached the bed and held out his hand for the toy. Pansy smiled a triumphant smile and placed the toy in his open palm.
Zane hugged Posey to his chest and climbed into the bed. He missed his mummy and daddy. He hoped he could see them soon.
“I’m sleepy,” he said through a wide yawn. The medication was kicking in again, and his tantrum had taken a lot of his energy. He turned to his side and hugged the toy dinosaur closer to him. He wished he could have a goodnight kiss from his mummy and daddy, but he would just make them kiss him two times when he saw them.
“Do you want a story and kiss?” Pansy asked hesitantly.
Zane’s answer was a soft snore as he fell back into a deep sleep.
She looked at the huddled mass on the bed for a long second and then left the room, turning off the lamp before she went.
Everything was going wonderfully. Zane would grow accustomed to living at the chateau with her and Angelo. She would be getting Draco’s child-support money every other week, enough to drape her in diamonds and emeralds for the rest of her life. Not that she would spend all the money on jewelry, heavens no. She would, of course, set aside an amount for Zane, but how much could a three-year-old spend? The rest would be hers for the taking.
Her life couldn’t get any better.
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A Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy