Welcome to Holland | By : Remarkable Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 3687 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Own nothing pertaining to the Harry Potter fandom or its affiliates. J.K. Rowling and associates get all the honor. I make no money from the publication of this work of fiction. Do. Not. Sue. |
Welcome To Holland -Edited
This fic is inspired by a wonderful journey, and part of the content is credited to Emily Perl Kingsley inside of the asterisks. I’ve adapted the work to fit with the story, of course. In the meantime, sit back and enjoy the journey to a place where no one plans to go, but many end up there anyway and discover it is just as beautiful as other more popular destinations.
This fic may contain sensitive issues for some that may include triggers such as special needs children, the topic of abortion, family planning and parental rights. You have been warned and I do not wish to see flames on the subject.
I make no money from this work of fiction, and never will. All rights to characters belong to J.K. Rowling and associated parties.
Otherwise, enjoy and please review. Hermione/Lucius, Draco/Astoria
Lucius Malfoy cradled his granddaughter in one arm, gently shifting her from one side to the other so as not to disturb her rest. Anjelica Narcissa Malfoy was a delicate little thing, her skin pinkish blue, almost translucent like fine parchment. The veins stood out underneath her skin in stark clarity. A wizard of lesser fortitude would have been terrified of such a delicate creature. Indeed, there was such a time when Lucius Malfoy himself would have never dreamed he’d be in St. Mungo’s high risk Newborn Intensive Magical Care Unit (NIMCU).
Such a thing as fragile or infirm children simply did not happen to Malfoys. They were always strong and robust, and if such a creature were born to a Malfoy it was instantly destroyed, his or her name struck from the family tree as any good Pureblood family would have done.
No, this child was not magically bereft. She was imbued with an aura of power even within her mother’s womb. Astoria Malfoy had been assured her child was going to be quite powerful in the magical sense. She was not even deformed in any way. Her tiny fist curled perfectly around Lucius’ pinky nail. His wedding ring would have hung about her wrist like an oversized bauble one buys children to play with and exclaim over how cute they are.
Anjelica had what Muggles termed Downs Syndrome. When Draco and Astoria had been apprised of their daughter’s malady, they had frightfully done what Purebloods of generations gone by do; they had instantly wished to rid themselves of the unwanted creature. Surely, the Malfoy family name must not be burdened by such a misfit as this child was sure to be. Draco was upset Astoria hadn’t had the magical testing done sooner. Already twenty eight weeks pregnant, his nostalgic wife had wanted the sex and health of the baby to be a surprise until she went into early labor. The outcome of the routine testing of the fetus had been devastating.
Draco and Astoria were insistent she be given a potion to terminate the pregnancy and end the life of the child. The St. Mungo’s staff was quite adamant that Astoria was too far along to abort safely.
Amidst the heated argument Lucius had arrived to a tearful Astoria, still in early labor and a red-faced Draco threatening to hex the lot of St. Mungo’s Intensive Care Maternity Ward (ICMW). He insisted Lucius contact the Chief of Staff of hospital immediately so they could have their wishes seen to personally.
There was one small snag with that request; Lucius Malfoy had recently married Hermione Granger, and despite Draco’s intense hatred of the Muggleborn witch, Lucius had fallen deeply in love with her. This has taken place after the war while doing community service reparations toward the rebuilding of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Lucius had allowed her to stand outside the ward and just around the corner, the heated exchange surely enunciated quite clearly for her and the rest of the Maternity floor to hear.
Lucius had groaned inwardly, knowing quite well there was bound to be some sort of mention of this incident in the Prophet the following day unless he managed to effectively threaten the entire Maternity staff within an inch of their lives.
“It is my right as the sire of the unborn child to terminate its life. It has no rights!” Draco’s face had been reaching apoplectic proportions, demanding his father leave right this instant to procure the Chief of Staff.
His answer had caused all voices within the room to go deadly silent.
“No.”
It had been a simple answer, and not one Lucius could easily explain. Looking back, he smiled fondly at the life-changing reply and knew in his heart Hermione had probably been just around the corner with that small, endearing smile of approval on her face that made his heart leap with joy.
“What did you say?” his son had asked in a low, dangerous voice.
“I said no, Draco. I, nor anyone else, shall be bothering the Chief of Staff of this hospital. Astoria will bear the child as planned and if it is your wish, I will take her into my custody and raise her as my own.”
Hardly believing his own ears, Draco had shooed the protesting staff from the private room and proceeded to have a one-sided shouting match with his father. Really, all Lucius had done was stand there and take his son’s verbal abuse. Upon the conclusion of Draco’s tirade, his son had flopped himself backwards in a chair, looking up at the cool countenance of his stoic and unyielding father through messy blond bangs.
Astoria had cried silently the entire time, hunched in on herself under the lush bedcovers.
Draco had risen, an ugly sneer on his face and jerked his head upwards towards Astoria.
“Do with it what you will. It’s no child of mine.” And then he had gone.
Lucius hadn’t heard from him since, and his sobbing daughter-in-law had birthed the tiny, bird-like child now swathed in his arms, covered in various charms and several advanced neonatal magical monitors. Lucius had ushered Hermione and the Healers back into the room, his wife comforting the sobbing girl as she gave birth to the beautiful Anjelica weighing in at two pounds, one ounce. The baby was a fighter.
Lucius was the first to hold the tiny thing after she’d been delivered and cut the umbilical cord. His hand never wavered and after a brief kiss upon the baby’s forehead, she had been rushed out of the room to Intensive Care. Hermione had stayed with the distraught Astoria until she’d been released the day after and Draco had come to coldly gather his wife to take her home to their “only child”, Lucius’ other grandchild, two year old Scorpius Malfoy.
The older wizard dozed off in the warmth of the room, a soft lullaby playing over the Wizarding Wireless in the corner of the private suite he had paid for, as long as his new granddaughter needed it.
He had never known he had such love in his heart after Draco had been born. Surely he had loved Narcissa in his own subtle way, but even after her death in the Final Battle he had grieved her as a dear friend rather than as a wife and lover.
Hermione had slowly transformed his hardened, unyielding heart into something more, something undefined and still evolving. The proof was held in his arms, a tiny chest fluttering precociously next to the skin of his own chest where the fragile infant slept, Kangaroo style. The Healers told him this was an old fashioned but effective way to improve the health of tiny babies, through bonding with their kin, skin to skin.
His beautiful bride of six months slipped quietly through the door with breakfast, keeping the noise of the take-out to a minimum of racket with a Silencing charm as she crept over to the snoozing baby cradled to his chest. She reached over gently and placed the tiniest kiss upon the infant’s head, murmuring an ‘I love you Anjelica’ before bestowing a similar endearment upon her husband, along with a much longer, but still gentle, kiss.
She fed him bits of breakfast until a Healer came in and placed the infant back into her stasis chamber after taking care of her needs.
Lucius motioned to Hermione to sit in his lap.
“Have you heard from Draco or Astoria?” he asked quietly, not expecting a different reply from the one he’d received the past three days since the baby’s birth.
She shook her head to the negative and he grunted.
The silence stretched on as they watched the sleeping baby in mutual contemplation.
“What now?” he asked abruptly.
“Excuse me?” Hermione replied, turning a little in his lap to focus her honey brown eyes on his silver grey ones.
“What will we do when we take her home? I’ve no idea how to take care of a special needs child. Quite frankly, as much as I love Anjelica, I’m simply terrified by the prospect.”
He was dead serious and a little miffed when she laughed at him. “The imperious, unflappable Lucius Malfoy, afraid of a little girl?”
Lucius huffed his annoyance and sniffed.
Hermione simply leaned in and kissed him once more, turning to whisper into his ear. “You’re not going to break her, Lucius. Babies are a lot stronger than you think.”
He nodded, lost in thought. There was so much to consider; her magical education, shielding her from bullies, how to raise her properly, what they would do when he and Hermione brought more children into their home.
Shaken from his reverie by a tiny cry, he watched in amazement as the tiny being let out a tremulous wail within her enclosure. Hermione got up from his lap and cooed to the infant, reaching her hands through the sterilizing field to run a finger over Anjelica’s back before the baby settled again to rest.
Lucius came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his thumbs making lazy circles over her belly.
“What are we going to tell everyone?”
Now that was the million galleon question Hermione had been waiting for. As much as Lucius had changed, she knew he still had a solid need to appear socially acceptable to the world and had no clue how a special needs child would fit into that narrow-minded, magical social circle. Wizarding society was cutthroat no matter how the times had changed.
She turned to her husband and grasped his hands in her own. With a dazzling smile she pulled him back over to the set of overstuffed chairs and took one, settling him into the other. He gave her a quizzical look but allowed her to collect her thoughts, knowing she was about to enlighten him in some manner. She seemed to do that quite often where his views were concerned. As much as he hated to admit it, she was often right.
“Lucius, love, I want to tell you a story.”
Yep, he’d been right in one. He nodded attentively, listening while occasionally letting his gaze stray to the sleeping baby a few feet away.
“Love, you know what it’s like to have a baby.”
He nodded.
“Having a special gift such as Anjelica isn’t that much different. It’s like…… taking a vacation to Italy.”
“How so?” Now he was intrigued as to how she was going to ply a trip to Italy in regards to having and taking care of a tiny child. This ought to be interesting.
*“When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans: The Coliseum, Michelangelo's David, the gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
“After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Your Port Key activates and a person welcomes you. "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
“But there's been a change in the plans. You’ve arrived in Holland and there you must stay.
“But I would simply Disapparate to Italy,” he interrupted, still unsure where this train of thought was going. Hermione certainly had a strange way of explaining her theories at times. She gave him a withering glare that he knew he had better shut his mouth and simply listen or he wouldn’t enjoy the consequences.
“You are in Holland,” she continued. “The important thing is that you haven’t arrived in a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
“So you must go out and buy new guidebooks. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
“It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills – and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
“But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy ... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
“And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away, because the loss of that dream is a very, very significant loss.
“But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you many never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.”**
Lucius was stunned. This gorgeous, vivacious and brilliant witch never failed to amaze him with insight and knowledge beyond her years. Moments like these reminded him of why he’d fallen in love with and snatched up the young witch. Never in another hundred years would he have met another woman he could love as completely as her, his intellectual, spiritual, and physical match.
And in this moment he knew that she’d make the most wonderful mother to their darling Anjelica, regardless of his son and daughter-in-law’s rejection of the infant. He couldn’t wait until the witch was ripe with his own seed, filled out and surrounded by laughing blond, curly-haired children that knew nothing of the hatred of blood status or bigotry.
In one fell movement he swept her up into his arms and kissed her soundly, conveying his love and passion through the electricity of their combined ardor.
With an embarrassed flush they separated as a Healer cleared his throat and looked away.
“Yes Healer Sampson, is there something we can help you with?”
The Healer smiled at the happy couple. He was about to make them even happier. With a slight flourish he handed them the paperwork and a pen.
Hermione got one look at Anjelica’s, hers and Lucius’ names on the top of the Official and Binding Certificate of Magical Parentage and squealed with joy.
Lucius was the first to sign his name with a flourish at the bottom of the papers under his son’s and Astoria’s names, the latter signing away their rights to the child and Lucius and Hermione’s signatures taking full legal and physical custody of Anjelica. His name flashed a brilliant blue before fading to an austere black, the Ministry official seal just beneath.
Hermione signed with shaking hands and then the Healer as well as a witness. The paper vanished with a light flash at the conclusion of the official signatures and congratulated the happy couple. While many within St. Mungo’s walls would not have hesitated to quietly end the child’s life, he was not of that persuasion and valued any and all life that passed through the ward. Healer Samson was greatly pleased such an illustrious couple would be the champion for the rights of special needs children. He had a feeling Hermione Malfoy would be making quite a splash in the coming years within that untouched arena.
He left them to celebrate in peace, the ecstatic couple already embraced in another passionate, celebratory kiss.
“I love you Hermione, more than you can ever know.”
“Only as much as I love you, and more, Lucius Malfoy. Forever and a day.”
“Marry me all over again and bear my children, my love. I want a houseful of children with you.”
“As you wish.”
In the years to come, there were many a puzzled look sent towards the couple and their gaggle of blond, curly-haired children that took a twice-yearly vacation to a little cottage in Holland, which they proclaimed to be their favorite holiday getaway. Only the happy couple ever knew the true story behind their little getaway, and if one happened to look in on the Malfoy family while they were on holiday, they would see a beautiful little special needs girl named Anjelica playing amidst the tulips in her mother’s garden, talking to the faeries and creating a little magic of her own with every life she touched.
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