The Turning

Hermione stood looking over her tiny, tiny son\'s crib. He was not expected to last the night. Funny. The wizarding world, with all its magic, couldn\'t manage to save. It was a feat that Muggles had managed to achieve. Aurelian was translucent, never a good sign. It broke her heart to see his miniscule veins tracing through his body. She wasn\'t even supposed to be here. They didn\'t think that she was ready to see him. They were right, as they usually were. But no one could have kept her from him. He was hers.

He was curled on his side. He hadn\'t even opened his eyes. But she could see so much of herself and of Draco in him. He had her nose, thank goodness. Draco\'s nose tended towards long and thin. In fact, it was the one thing that kept him from out-and-out prettiness. Auri had Draco\'s chin and the shape of his eyes. She was willing to bet that if he\'d ever open them, they\'d be just as clear a gray as his father\'s.

How her parents would have loved him. Auri quite possibly would have been the most spoilt child in existence. She thought of her grandfather Antoine. He\'d been ecstatic to learn that he would soon have another great-granchild to ruin. Antoine had instructed her to write whenever possible and to inform him of the child\'s birth. True to her word, she had, communicating the why\'s and wherefore\'s. The funeral was scheduled for a week from tomorrow.

Aurelian let out a little cry, not unlike a small troubled lamb. His mother\'s tears rolled down her salt-swollen face. He was too tiny to pick up and comfort. She settled for stroking a finger over his small hand. Her finger was just as big as his whole hand. He quieted under her tender ministrations.

\"How the devil did you slip in here?\"

\"He\'s my son, Severus. How could I have *not* come to see him?\"

The defeat in her voice scared him, although he would not admit it. \"He will survive.\"

\"Oh, Severus. So implacable. So cocksure. Your confidence couldn\'t save my husband. It can\'t save my son.\" Her voice had hardened, taken on a nasty drawling tone. \"Why won\'t you let me take him to where he\'ll have a chance?\"

\"To a *Muggle* hospital? Are you mad? They won\'t be able to do more than we have. Bloody butchers.\"

\"Those \'bloody butchers\' have saved tinier ones than him. Well, fuck you and the wizarding world, too.\" She pulled her wand from her sleeve and turned it over in her hands.

\"From the moment I\'d gotten this thing, it\'s caused me nothing but trouble. Perhaps they were right. I don\'t belong here.\"

Severus had an awful premonition. \"Hermione -\"

\"They are all right. This is not my world. I know that now.\" She suddenly took the wand and snapped it in two. There was a thunderclap and Hogwarts gave a great heaving shudder.

\"Do you think that merely because you broke your wand it means that you can\'t do magic anymore? That\'s utter shit, and you know it.\"

\"No. It means that I won\'t do magic anymore.\" She wrapped up the baby and picked him up gingerly. \"And if that means that it will save him, so be it.\"

\"They will find you regardless. Being in and of the Muggle world didn\'t save your parents.\"

\"No, but it at least gave them a shot at being alive. Get out of my way, Severus.\"

\"No.\"

\"Get out of my way!\"

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned insolently in the doorway. \"No.\"

Hermione\'s eyes flashed and Severus found himself flung into an armchair situated by the cold fireplace.
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She took him to the nearest Muggle hospital. They immediately whisked him into the neonatal unit and encased him in a small plastic box. He was frightened and tried to cry, but couldn\'t work up the strength to. She cried for him. The nurses and doctors took in the large diamond on her hand, her cared-for - if extremely exhausted - appearance. They couldn\'t reconcile that with the condition that the boy was in. They left her alone, seeing the care that shone from Hermione for her son.

After two nights of non-stop vigilance, the staff was ready to confine Hermione to a bed. She wasn\'t in a state to argue, but accepted their offer of a reclining chair. The sleep had done her a world of good. The nurses handed her a cup of water and an elastic to tie up her bird\'s nest of hair.

Although she\'d broken her wand, it didn\'t mean anything. Severus was right, damn him. She wasn\'t forbidden to perform magic. How could they prevent it? She was a mage. Her son - her heart contracted - would probably be one as well, if he survived. Three days, and if he wasn\'t thriving, at least he wasn\'t dying.

Hermione leaned forward in the chair and looked at him. He was so still, only the rise and fall of his chest giving any sign that he was with her. Even their mental connection had been severed. As a completely separate human being, she found his mind blocked against hers, until he\'d acquired enough knowledge to tap the connection once again. Aurelian was truly on his own and there was not a damned thing she could do about it.

There were wires and tubes weaving their way in and out of him. They all provided the beeping machines with constant information on his condition. She thought back on all she\'d learned about being a mage. The healing aspect was one she hadn\'t thought to develop, only because there\'d never really been a need - even through the darkest days of the war.

The machinery of Hermione\'s brain began to whirr with ideas. Clearly, this was not a time to let her emotions cloud her intelligence. Her brain had been her saviour on more than one occasion. This time it would save her son.
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She sat in the extensive library in the Ministry. All of the knowledge gathered and recorded on magical healing lay before her. She\'d jotted down a few meaningful passages onto parchment, but so far, not much had raised more than a glimmer of interest. Hermione hadn\'t had one of her famous \'a-ha!\' moments. She pulled out a slimmer, newer volume and began flipping through the pages.

It turned out to be a journal that also held her own slender treatise on mage magic. She tossed it aside with a sound of disgust. There was nothing here that could help her. But a glimmer of recognition made her pick up the book again. Hermione opened it and began running a finger down the pages until she found the sentence she sought. Keeping it in mind, she pulled the other discarded books back over, looking for corroboration.

She sought for over two hours until she found it in a dusty tome on the inner workings of Philosopher\'s stones. The famous \'a-ha!\' moment had come.
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Short chappie, I know, but I had to decide whether to kill the kid or keep the kid. Besides, Hermione needed to come back to her power base - the library. What better reason than to save her kid?