Renaissance

A/N: Thank you, Mamacita-san and refuz2luz for beta-reading! Remaining errors are all my own.

And so sorry for the massive delay…
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19.
Harry’s fingers twitched on the starchy rug as he came awake. He hadn’t dared to do more than stroke Draco’s fingers or hir soft hair since the orderly allowed him into the room. He’d settled for laying his hand beside hirs on top of the coverlet, afraid to disturb the multitude of bandages and magical medical machinery delivering the needed healing potions and monitoring the output from Draco’s abused body. He desperately wanted to hold hir hand or drop a quick kiss on hir bruised lips, but he’d been warned there could be dire repercussions for even the slightest jostling; besides, between the IV lines, nasal cannula, the monitoring lines, and sensors, Harry was a little intimidated.

The sound of a throat clearing in the doorway caught his attention and he turned to meet their visitor and stretch, vertebrae popping as he worked out the stiffness from sitting too long in the uncomfortable bedside chair. “H’lo,” Harry greeted the new arrival with a small smile.

“Hey yourself,” Helene whispered. “Has sie been awake at all?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think the anaesthesia has worn off yet, and sie’s on a massive dose of pain potions so sie’ll be groggy when sie does come to.”

Helene hummed as she heard all Harry had not said, and she gave her friend a quick once-over. “Sie looks...awful.”

“Trust you to be blunt about it.” Harry cracked a smile. “Looks loads better than when we found hir,” he said, his expression darkening as he surveyed the veritable sea of bandages that covered nearly every centimetre of exposed skin. They were needed to keep Draco’s fragile skin moist with the salves and ointments that were working to heal hir bruises and scarring; the cuts and abrasions themselves had been sealed during hir initial healing.

“At least sie’s not awake to complain about it, vain as sie is. I thought I’d peek in to see how sie was doing in case I needed to prepare...but I think she can handle it as long as you’re here. Anna’s been worried about you too. Can I—is it all right to send her in now?”

Harry nodded and attempted to straighten himself up a bit while Helene waved out the door. He managed to adjust his skewed glasses and rake his hands through his hair—not that he had any hope that the latter would make a difference to his dishevelled appearance—before the slight eleven-year-old stepped in, uncharacteristically shy and hesitant. “Hi, Harry,” she said softly.

“Hello, my girl,” he said as he opened his arms. And suddenly found himself with a lap full of weeping child.

“I was so scared, Harry! Auntie Pansy came to school and said Vama was kidnapped and you’d gone to get hir back, and Uncle Blaise Flooed the Headmistress and said Vama was badly hurt but we couldn’t come to hospital yet, and we waited and waited. I didn’t know what to think!” Her breath hitched. “I was so scared, Harry. I thought you were hurt too and that maybe Vama would die....”

Harry held her as the words, mingled with her tears and fear, were purged from her body in a rush. He found himself glad she’d worn her hair loose today as he drew his fingers up her nape and cradled her head to his chest and rocked gently. He crooned reassurances and patted her back as the erratic pattern of her breathing calmed, never ceasing the gentle glide back and forth in the chair. “I was so scared,” she whispered into his shirt, her small hands desperately clutching the folds of his open robe. “So scared, Harry.”

“I know, petal. It’s all right that you were scared. It’s a horrible thing that happened, but it’s over now. The...man who hurt Vama can’t harm anyone anymore and Draco is here and safe and is going to be fine. Sie’s sleeping now, but sie’s going to wake up soon and be better and better. And then when sie’s perfectly well we’ll go home and get everything set up for Yule and Christmas. Lars will bring in a tree and we’ll get all sorts of those sparkly baubles you like, and Vama will sit on the couch and order me and Helene around to make sure everything is perfect for hir precious petal, and we’ll come fetch you home from King’s Cross and have mulled cider and gingerbread that Helene bakes and everything will be wonderful,” he promised her, holding her that much tighter and taking much-needed comfort for himself from the picture he’d made.

“You’ll be there?”

“Of course.” He pressed a kiss into the soft strands of her moonlight hair, a smile touching his lips as they brushed the wide velvet ribbon; it was a gift he’d purchased for her on one of their visits.

“Good,” she said decidedly, though her voice was small. “We’ll be safe then.”

Harry closed his eyes as he grieved for the innocence that Iscariot’s madness had stripped away. Despite all that had happened to her before she’d become Draco’s daughter, Anna had regained that childish sense of inviolate safety; and now he wondered if she’d lost it again for good. “I’ll do my best to protect you, my girl. But no matter what, I will always be there for you. I love you and Draco very much. “

“I know; we love you too, Harry.” She sighed and relaxed into his arms.

Now and again Anna reached out to brush her hand over Draco’s fingertips, knowing without being told that she wouldn’t be able to hug or kiss her Vama as she wanted to until sie was further along in hir healing. Instead she seemed to find comfort in the steady beeping of the vital signs monitor; eventually the rhythmic sound lulled her to sleep and Harry followed, both of them emotionally exhausted.

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“I’m sorry, sir, but I have to ask you to take your daughter out now. We need to attend to the patient.” A kindly mediwizard with a mild voice carefully woke Harry an hour or so later, looking as if he regretted having to break the comfortable quiet of the room. His pinch-faced assistant carried a tray laden with potions, ointment jars, and what seemed to Harry like a never-ending pile of rolled bandages. “You can return in forty minutes, but as it’s getting late I suggest you head home and get some rest, and come back in the morning.”

“Uh—she’s not—I’m, er—yeah...all right. I’m staying, though. I mean, I’ll be back when you’ve finished here.”

The middle-aged man smiled. “That’s fine, sir. As I said, it’ll be forty minutes, more or less. Since you won’t be heading home you might want to get a bite to eat and freshen up a bit. You’ll certainly feel better and you won’t do either of them—” he jerked his head between the slumbering blondes— “any good if you run yourself down.”

Harry blinked and blinked, trying to clear the grit from his eyes, and rose slowly, still a bit dizzy and dazed. The mediwizard braced his back and elbow until he was steady.

“Hem, hem. We do have other patients to see to, Mediwizard Greydove.”

“We do, yet there is more to healing than just administering potions according to the timetable. We must see to the whole of the patient’s recovery—which includes tending to their families, don’t you think?”

“Oh—oh, yes, of course, Mediwizard Greydove,” the woman simpered. Her falsely high-pitched voice grated on Harry’s nerves.

Harry thanked the mediwizard with a grin as the older man passed a hand over Anna’s head. “Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Umbridge, would it?” Harry jokingly asked the woman as he lifted Anna into his arms. The scowling woman abruptly straightened, her face brightening. “Why, yes! Do I know you?” she asked pleasantly and giggled girlishly, impressed with the attention from the handsome man in navy Auror robes.

Harry nearly choked on his shock. “Erm...You could say that. I knew a Dolores Umbridge once....”

“She’s my aunt!”

Harry’s lip curled. “Yes...I see the family resemblance.” She was a cow, too. He swept from the room, making a mental note to see if Assistant Umbridge could be reassigned for the duration of Draco’s stay. He’d rather not take the chance that incompetence and vindictiveness were also prevalent family characteristics.

Only Remus was in the ward’s waiting area to greet them and he easily transferred Anna into his arms. “We’re taking it in shifts,” the werewolf said in greeting. “Blaise took Pansy to stretch her legs, but she’ll return to stay the night. Andromeda and Mr. Allenby will be here in the morning. I’m to get this one back to Hogwarts, but I’ll be back with her tomorrow afternoon once classes are over.”

“That sounds fine, Remus. They’ve shooed me out of the room but I plan on staying until Draco is released. For now I suppose I should check in with Kingsley; I left pretty abruptly this afternoon. “

“So I heard,” the older man chuckled, “and if the number of calls coming in to your Signatus and AFR are any indication, they’re wanting to hear from you sooner rather than later.” At Harry’s bewildered look the greying Professor nodded toward the ward’s monitoring station. “Oh, they’re where you left them—they had all of us turn them in when we arrived—but the charge nurse has been complaining pretty steadily about yours. Don’t worry, lad; just see to what you need to. The rest will work itself out.” The trio headed toward the lifts so Remus could Floo back to Hogwarts from the main lobby. “Oh, I reckon you’ll be seeing Ron before I return, so tell him I’ll be by to visit with him later.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Damn. Honestly, Remus, with everything that’s been going on I completely forgot he was here too.”

Remus elbowed the button for the lift, rocking for a moment to settle Anna as she shifted in her sleep. “Don’t worry too much about it, Harry. It’s understandable. Your mind’s been occupied with so many worries today. He was fine, last I heard. Tonks says he’ll be out in another day or so; mostly they’re keeping him for rest and observation. He’s on the fourth floor, Spell Damage.”

“Thanks, Remus. I’ll give him your regards. G’night. Take care of my girl, yeah?”

“Of course.” Remus graced the younger man with a gentle smile. “And you’re quite welcome. I’m just so glad you’ve all come through this so well. Take care of yourself, Harry.” He stepped onto the lift and nodded when Harry waved goodbye.

Harry retrieved his Signatus and ear cuff from the irate charge nurse who tersely suggested he leave the devices, whose magical fields interfered with the ward’s medical equipment, at home during his next visit as neither she nor her colleagues were an answering service. He headed for the fourth floor, grimacing at the number of missed calls and messages marked urgent.

He inquired after Ron at the ward monitoring station and that charge nurse congenially directed him to room 417. As he’d expected, he was ambushed by a ginger mob as soon as he crossed the threshold. “Harry!”

Harry barely managed, “Mu-um Weasley,” before his head was pulled down and crushed against the matriarch’s ample bosom. He narrowly escaped suffocation, only to be mauled by a bushy brown-haired blur a moment later. “Oh, Harry! We were so worried! Tonks said you’d gone in after Iscariot by yourself, and everything at the Ministry is such a mess right now we could hardly get any information from her at all. Even Arthur couldn’t stay more than a few minutes. The press is clamouring for details of the arrest, and somehow word’s gone round about Malfoy’s abduction. It’s all such a mess!”

The verbal deluge dried up just long enough for the witch to catch her breath and then she was at it again. “And we knew you were here but no one would tell us anything, so we didn’t know if you were injured or not. And who knows what could’ve happened? Honestly, Harry! Do you never think? Charging off without the simplest plan—he could’ve killed you with that thing he used on Ron! We don’t even know what it is or all it can do! We’ve been frantic. And Ginny’s in an absolute state over you. George finally took her to the cafeteria to bring back a little something for us to nibble on since we’ve been here all day and haven’t had much to eat since this morning. We don’t know when Ron will be released but we’re staying ‘til then, of course....

“Oh, and look at me blubbering all over you, your shirt’s all wet. Wait, isn’t this the one you were wearing this morning? Have you not been home at all, Harry? You must be tired—come sit down.” Hermione chivvied him into the hastily vacated seat beside her own as the overwhelmed Auror tossed a lost look at his recovering friend over her head. Hermione’s shifts in mood and topic had been dizzying.

Ron held out his hand. “Don’t mind the missus, mate. The hormones have done quite the number on her. Gone a bit barmy, she has.”

“Oh, Ron!”

Ron winked and held out a pillow to defend against her flapping hands.

“Hormones?” Harry was well and truly lost now.

“Hermione’s pregnant, dear. Wonderful news!” Mrs Weasley chirped from across the bed.

“Oh yes! We’d meant to tell you, but there hasn’t been time. We just found out yesterday. I’d been a bit overwrought the last week or so and Molly suggested I go in for a check-up and, well...there you are, three weeks along. We’re going to be parents! Isn’t it fantastic?”

“Uh, yeah, wonderful really! Congratulations!” Harry hugged the bleary-eyed woman and pumped her husband’s hand between his. He smiled as Fred cracked baby jokes and Molly gushed about the joys of parenthood, though she interspersed her tales with admonishments about how dangerous Auror work was and suggestions for other careers for both Ron and Hermione.

Harry good-naturedly went along with it all but inwardly he cringed. Yes, wonderful, fantastic, glorious, really, and so is the fact that one of the most level-headed, rational women I know has turned into an hysterical spaz as well, lovely really. I hope to Merlin this “hormones” phase passes like morning sickness is supposed to. I don’t know if i can deal with months of Hermione freaking out every fifteen seconds.

Despite his embittered inner monologue, Harry really was happy for his friends. They’d wanted to start a family immediately after the war but decided to wait until things had calmed a bit and they were settled more firmly in their careers. Evidently they’d decided the time was right; he was glad for them that their dreams of life after the war were finally being realised. He was also glad that changes were happening at DMLE. He knew Hermione loved her work with the Auror Corps, but her pregnancy would take her out of the field and into something better for her. Draco had been right: Hermione was not best suited to fieldwork. When it came down to it she could more than hold her own in a fight, but she preferred to use her considerable intellect to prevent the need for violent resolutions.

The new forensics and research division would be a perfect post for her. Harry was sure Kingsley had already tapped her for a key position, given her organisational and...insistent managerial skills. And now that there was a justifiable reason for her erratic and unprofessional outburst that morning Harry was sure everything would work out fine, a thought which reminded him that he needed to be going. He wanted to drop in on Seamus and get over to the Ministry so he could debrief and get back to Draco before too much longer. He had just stood to take his leave when the door opened and he was nearly toppled onto the bed.

“Oh, Harry!”

He rolled his eyes. Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d somehow changed his name to O’harry and forgotten to inform everyone but the Weasley women. “Hullo, Ginny.” He managed a weak smile and patted her back.

“Are you all right? We’ve been so worried!” She patted him down as though checking for injuries, but her touch lingered in places that made him uncomfortable.

Harry disentangled himself, holding her politely at arm’s length. “I’m fine, Gin. It’s Draco who’s been most hurt, but sie’ll recover and is resting now.”

Ginny’s mouth twisted into an ugly moue of distaste. “Oh. Well, that’s nice of you to sit with Malfoy, Harry. I suppose you needed to get a statement or something?”

Harry frowned at her expression. “I do—but more than that, Draco and I are together now. I thought Ron and Hermione would’ve said. It’s quite serious, you know.” He glanced over at his now sheepish-looking friends.

“We—uh—didn’t want to...say anything before—um, you know, mate,” Ron hedged. “Since we weren’t sure you—uh....” He trailed off helplessly, looking at his wife.

“C’mon, Harry, I’m sure you still need to visit with Seamus. I’ll show you to his room.” Hermione stepped into the awkward tension and pulled Harry from the room as Molly stood gaping and Ginny rounded on Ron.

“What were you thinking, Harry?” she hissed at him once the closed door was behind them. “You know Ginny still cares deeply for you, and Molly—well, she’s been waiting for the two of you to get your act together since the war ended. You can’t go around just blurting out things like that with no consideration for other people’s feelings!”

Incredulity washed over Harry’s face as he looked at his friend. “What are you on about, Hermione? Their feelings? Ginny and I are long done. And no matter what Mum Weasley may have hoped, we were never going to make a true go of it—adolescent infatuation and sibling affection are no basis for a relationship, let alone marriage! She should’ve realised, both of them should, that I never Resonated with Ginny, not even a little. Should’ve been clue enough—”

Hermione kissed her teeth. “Tch, not that rubbish again. I told you, Harry—”

“Whether or not you believe in it, Mione—and I suggest you examine your feelings and consider Ron’s beliefs before you hurt him any more than you already have—Draco and I do have Resonance between us; our relationship is strong and lasting and we love each other. I suggest you get used to the idea of us together, because sie’s not going anywhere.”

Hermione huffed and braced her hands on her hips. “Harry James Potter, you must see that no good can come of this latest obsession with Malfoy. And I don’t see where Ron and I have anything to do with this drivel you’re spouting.” She turned up her nose. “We are both mature, reasonable, modern adults who don’t hold with such childish notions and ridiculous fairy tales.”

“And yet that’s exactly what you’re hoping for, isn’t it? Some storybook ending where the hero wins the war and goes off to marry the knight’s beautiful sister and they have lovely children and live happily ever after. Been busy writing me into a fairy-tale life, have you, Mione?”

“Well, no, it’s not like that at all, Harry. This isn’t anything to do with—we just want to see you settled and happy. This dalliance with Malfoy can’t give you that. You need to open your eyes to what’s in front of you, Harry. A life with Ginny would be wonderful. She loves you; she’s known you nearly your whole life. She’s strong and brave, and together you could have a beautiful family. I know you want that, Harry—a family, children to lavish your love and attention on, a partner you can trust and respect. None of that is possible with Malfoy, of all people!”

“And why not?” he shot back mulishly. “A family, children, a spouse I can love and respect. I see all of that in my future with Draco.”

The witch was aghast. “You can’t mean that, Harry! You aren’t actually considering—” her voice dropped—“marriage with that—that—”

“That what?” he asked, voice hard.

“That elitist bigot, is what!” she glared back.

Harry clenched both fists in his hair. “Argh! Mione, you—I can’t do this now.” He exhaled deeply. “Look, I’m going to peek in on Seamus. We’ll talk about this some other time, when you’re actually acting like the mature, reasonable adult you claim to be. You’re not going to change my mind; I’m not going to give hir up. You and Ron need to get your heads around the fact that sie’s not who you thought sie was—see hir for who sie is now, not when sie was fifteen.”

Her lips were pursed with disapproval but Hermione nodded. “We’ve been friends too long to let this come between us, Harry. Go on and see Seamus. We’ll talk later.”

“Fine.” Harry reached for the door handle. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would help. Ron and Hermione would come along in their own time, or they wouldn’t. And right now Hermione was wearing her ‘I’m right, you’re wrong, I just need to prove it to you’ expression. “Goodnight, Mione.”

He turned his back and fixed a warm smile on his face for Seamus as he walked into the room. “Hey, mate, how’re you feeling?”




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Triarii-specific Terminology:
Vamar: Parent, usually shortened to vama, or vam
Veru: Triarii spouse