The Shattered Dragon

Chapter 12: Serving the Sentence

She woke up the day after Christmas with a slight hangover and a bit of a bellyache from too much rich food and far too much champagne. Still, the dinner had been festive and lavish and even Draco, who had left her thinking he was unhappy at the prospect of hosting the party was in his usual jovial form. Even so, Hermione saw him withdraw occasionally, frowning into his drink or staring out the window towards the woods, looking out at nothing in particular. She knew better than to approach him, but for some reason it tugged at her heart, the lost, empty look on his face. I don't need mummy anymore. He tried to so hard to convince himself that he wanted to be alone, a sentence he'd handed down to himself.

With a whip crack of apparation, her door flew open, revealing Healer Moonstone holding a vial full of pale purple liquid.

"Happy Christmas, Moonstone," Hermione said casually, smiling, sitting up and stretching, wondering if a headache potion might be hiding in the healer's pocket.

"You didn't take your potions yesterday and it's nearly noon already today. You usually take them by eight," Moonstone said, her voice edging on panic. "Did the elves not tell you it was crucial to take them every day?"

Hermione sighed and shuffled across the floor, plucking the vial from her plump fingers.

"Yes, they did, I just forgot. It's fine," she said, downing the sparkling sweet potion and putting the empty vial on her vanity.

"And what if you get called to service tomorrow?" Moonstone said, pulling out her wand.

"Tomorrow?" Hermione asked, taking the rest of the supplement and energy potions that she was prescribed daily, including a hangover potion that must have been given to all of the girls as a Christmas Treat. "What would it matter? I just took it."

Moonstone sighed and rolled her eyes.

"They are carefully calibrated to cater to your own cycle, Hermione, holding ripened eggs at bay. They regulate your hormones based on the phases of the moon and your own body chemistry..." the healer sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You can't miss a day. Not even one day. Ideally you'd take it at the same time EVERY day, but now you're thrown off for at least a week since a missed dose could trigger ovulation and once that's happened, these potions don't work. Not that you won't be able to...perform...it's just not...not as secure..." she mumbled, walking a circle around her.

Hermione stood in front of her, jaw slack, her pulse beating a bit fast in her throat as she thought back to her evening with Draco. Moonstone lifted her wand to Hermione's stomach and made a tight figure eight, casting a white light that held steady before blinking out completely after less than three seconds.

"You're fine this time. There's no danger. You aren't fertile right now," she said, tucking her wand away and heading for the door. Before leaving she whirled back on Hermione, grabbing her chin tightly and giving her a stern glare. "Take. Your. Potions. Every. Day. Do you hear me young lady?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Happy Christmas," she said, finally smiling, patting her on the cheek.

Hermione stifled a laugh and nodded, relieved that she was in the clear and also feeling a bit of warm nostalgia at being cared for again...fussed over. The healer reminded her of Molly Weasley, soft and sweet smelling, but solid iron underneath.

After the New Year, the club began to attract its regulars back from their wholesome family time. Luring them into the underworld after spending a week playing Sniggy Snake Charmer and Exploding Snap with their children was easier than leaving birdseed in the snow and before long, the requests and reservations were in full swing yet again. Still, Hermione would go to the line up each night and each night she would be released, told that she should enjoy herself and relax. Not even Draco called for her, although she could tell by the tension in his jaw, the way his fists clenched and released at his sides as he spoke that he needed her. He needed something; but maybe he'd taken Hermione's warning to heart. He wouldn't take her in anger.