Harvest Moon

Hermione sat behind her desk with her head in her hands.  All of the paperwork from the Dawn Morris case was spread out in front of her; Harry had brought it by earlier that day.  He’d said she deserved to know everything since she and Draco had worked on it more than he had.  She glanced sideways at Draco’s desk.  He’d taken a short leave of absence and she really couldn’t blame him in the slightest.  It wasn’t every day you found out that your mother was a murderer. 

As she’d read through the files, all of the odd pieces had fallen into place.  Initially, they couldn’t find anything wrong with Narcissa, no possession, no Unforgivable spell, nothing.  They’d finally brought in a muggle psychiatrist that Ara knew and had her take a look at Narcissa.  What had been judged after several sessions was unusual but considering the circumstances of Narcissa’s early life, it wasn’t terribly shocking.

“Dissociative Identity Disorder,” she murmured to herself.  There was more or less a full disclosure because the confidentiality aspects didn’t apply to these cases in the Wizarding world.  At the moment, Narcissa was in a special ward of St. Mungoes hospital that catered to the criminally insane.

A noise in the doorway made her look up as Draco stepped in.

“I thought you were taking a leave of absence,” she said.

He sighed heavily.  “I thought I was too,” he said.  “I just . . . can’t seem to wrap my head around it all.  I do know that trying to run away or hide from it doesn’t help so I thought I might do something constructive with my time.”  He sat down behind his desk and put his head in his hands. 

“Have you . . .”

Draco hung his head.  “Seen her?  Yes. I’ve gone to see her.  I’m not certain . . .”  He sighed heavily and looked askance at her.  “I’m not certain how often I can go.  When I’m there alone she’s . . . normal.  My mother as I know her, knew her,” he corrected.  “She keeps asking why she’s there and begging me to take her home. That rips my heart out every time. When Father is there, she’s completely different.  She shifts gears to either my Uncle Liren, who finds Father a loathsome, weak willed bookworm, or to the one Father says lured you two into the forcecage.  Then there are times when it’s like, I don’t know exactly how to explain it.  Have you ever had a conversation with yourself in a mirror when you were trying to work something out that was particularly knotty?”

“Occasionally.  I think it’s a fairly normal thing,” Hermione said with a shrug.  She would not ask questions or interrupt him and she would let him talk as little or as much on this as he’d like.  It was what friends were for.

“It’s almost like that.  However, there seems to be three completely separate people in the conversation.  It’s the strangest damn thing I’ve ever seen and that includes you making cow eyes at my father, Granger,” he said, some of the old bite back in his tone.

“Still can’t be stranger than you dressed as a tractor, Malfoy,” she drawled. 

“Love makes you do strange things, Granger,” he said musingly.  “Speaking of that, I’d like your opinion on something.”

“Since when have I ever been lax in giving you my opinion?”

“Since the outside of never,” he said, fishing into a pocket for a small box.  He handed it to her and grinned at her expression.  “When all the dust clears, I’m going to ask Luna to marry me.”

Hermione lifted the lid on the box to find a stunning emerald ring with diamonds set on either side of the center stone.  It was simple, elegant and utterly breathtaking.  “This is stunning, Draco,” she said with a  smile.  “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“It was my great grandmother’s according to Father,” Draco said, taking the box back and putting it back into his pocket.  “He said that his rescuer should have the one ring in the Malfoy family line that actually had a happy marriage attached to it.”

Hermione chuckled at that.  Lucius had told her on many occasions that most of the Malfoy marriages had been arranged at the birth of various sons and daughters and that few of them had been pleasant in any way.  He’s also mentioned there had been quite a few murders to take place between spouses as divorce had not been an option until the last few decades.

“So,” Draco said, leaning back against his desk.  “I understand Father proposed to you and you turned him down.”

Hermione sighed.  “Yes and yes.”

“Because . . .” he questioned.

“Draco, you know as well as I do that he has to get through all of this in his own time in his own way,” Hermione said firmly.

“So you think he’s just asking you because he needs something to be stable in his life after this?” Draco asked.

“Perhaps.  I don’t think either one of us can deny the fact we were very shaken up by all of this.”

“I don’t think that’s it exactly.  However, you’ll do as you please and if I know Father he’ll make it a point to ask you every time you’re with him.”

Hermione smiled a little bit.  Amused at the statement because it was so very like Lucius to do something of that nature.

***Author’s Notes aka Mad Ramblings***

One more chapter to go on this.  I’d like to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this story.  It’s deeply appreciated and I hope that I’ve entertained.  Thank you all.