Broken

Laughter

Hermione prowled around the room like a captive tigress. Two weeks of confinement in St Mungo's had driven her to the ends of her limited patience. A week ago Hermione had been told she could go home soon. A further complication had then trapped her for longer. She stared out of the window, bracing her arms on the cold window-ledge. Her breath fogged up the glass as she watched muggles hurrying past, slipping through the dirty sludge covering the London streets.

Hugo started fussing in his crib, pulling Hermione back into the room. She settled into the comfy rocking chair, crooning to him as she fed her hungry baby. She marvelled each day at how much he was growing. After burping and changing Hugo, Hermione cuddled him and conjured sparks of lights for his amusement. Hugo burbled, making her smile. Hermione glanced over to her bed, covered in pieces of parchment. Ginny had finally relented and brought in Hermione's work, in a bid to keep her from hexing everyone.

Hermione was too restless today to be productive. Instead, she changed out of her pjs and into a knitted dress, wriggling into a pair of leggings and boots. Hermione was just easing Hugo's arm into his baby robes when she heard a long-suffering sigh from the doorway.

'And where exactly do you think you are going?' Draco raised an eyebrow at her, a thick coat slung over his arm. Hermione mockingly quirked her own eyebrow in reply.

'Oh, so you're speaking to me again are you?'

'If you're planning on making a break for it,' Draco continued, ignoring her. 'I should tell you that I have a duty of care to stop you. Not that I want to, mind, I hear you've been an absolute nightmare, Little Miss Grouchy-Robes, so it would be entirely for your own good. The other volunteers will probably curse me into the next century for not letting you get out of their hair...'

'Have you quite finished, Volunteer Malfoy?' Hermione huffed, primly.

'Why yes, Mrs Weasley, I believe I have made myself sufficiently clear,' Draco replied, matching her tone.

'Then allow me to inform you, Volunteer Malfoy, that I have no intention of leaving this excellent establishment until I have been declared fit to do so. I simply desire a change of scenery and wish to partake in the nourishing cuisine available upon the fifth floor.'

'Very well, Mrs Weasley, allow me to escort you and Master Weasley to said establishment,' Draco said with a bow, offering her his arm.

Hermione curtsied in reply and delicately rested her fingers on the proffered forearm. They solemnly walked out of the room, noses in the air. They managed to reach the staircase before Hermione gave in to the bubble of laughter fighting to escape her lips. Draco attempted to look haughtily offended, an expression she well recognised, though his eyes twinkled.

'You're crazy, Granger, you know that?' Draco shook his head and herded her up the stairs, still not trusting her not to make a run for the exit. Hermione pulled a face, then sauntered ahead of him.

By the time Hermione reached the third floor, her pace had slowed and she was starting to feel a little out of breath.

'Tired, Granger?' Draco asked, grinning.

'You try spending nine months slowly changing until you look like a snake that swallowed a pig and half as graceful, then being stuck in a god-forsaken room for weeks with nothing to do but walk around in tiny-ass circles!' Hermione wheezed at him angrily.

'Well that's some very...specific imagery...' Draco's mouth twitched. He flinched as Hermione lurched forwards and pushed past him.

The Visitor's Tearoom was lavishly strewn with Christmas decorations and a small fir-tree was enchanted to sing carols to passers-by, in a grating, off-key jingle. The witches and wizards behind the counter wore lopsided pointed hats in festive colours, their smiles becoming fixed as the tree launched into another song.

Draco spotted an empty table and pulled out a chair, gesturing for Hermione to sit down. She watched him suspiciously, thinking he was mocking her. He sat down in his own seat, looking slightly puzzled. A young teenage wizard in a red hoodie with a flashing reindeer walked over to their table.

'Hi there, my name is Alex and I will be your server today,' he said in a bored voice. 'What can I get you?'

'Could you come back in a minute, please Alex?' Draco asked, as Hermione read the menu intently, absently bouncing Hugo on her knee. Alex shrugged and slouched away.

'What would you recommend?' Hermione asked, startling Draco. She giggled as he looked at her sheepishly, having been caught pulling faces at Hugo.

'Me? Well, I like the scones they make here, though Scorpius is quite partial to the mince pies and mother likes the Victoria sponge cakes.'

'Hmm, that doesn't really help narrow it down at all!' Hermione frowned at the menu again, her lips pursed in concentration.

'They have an afternoon tea option which has a selection of the different cakes...'

'But it's only 9am!'

'How astute of you,' Draco rolled his eyes. 'That's just the name, you can order it whenever you like.' He waved Alex over. 'Yes, I think we're ready to order. I'd like a large cappuccino and a fruit scone with jam and clotted cream, thank you.'

'Ummm...could I please have the afternoon tea?

'Sure, can I get either of you anything else?'

'No,' Draco glanced at Hermione, who nodded, 'That's everything, thank you.'

'So, how old is Scorpius?' Hermione asked, shyly.

'He turned two last month,' Draco smiled fondly at the mention of his son.

'How lovely! He'll be in the same Hogwarts year as Rose and Albus. I mean, unless he's going to one of the other schools? I didn't mean to assume...'

'Nah, he'll be going to Hogwarts for sure,' Draco laughed as Hermione stuttered into silence. 'It'll be hard enough having him away for most of the year, without packing him off to another country as well. Besides, there's much more parent involvement these days. You can bet I'll be going to every Quidditch game if he makes the team!'

'Decked out in the full team colours, head-to-toe?'

'Of course! Got to show proper team spirit! Besides, everyone knows it's a parent's job to thoroughly embarrass their kid at every opportunity!'

'And you say I'm crazy...'

'Oh yeah, like you wouldn't be the same! I remember you went to every single one of Potty and Weasel's games. I bet you'll end up being one of those parents who wears absurd hats and heckles the ref...'

'Me? I seem to remember you were the one who got into fights at most games, I think you'll be the parent who keeps yelling obscenities and has to be escorted off the grounds! "Mr Malfoy, really,"' Hermione said in a devastating imitation of Headmistress McGonagall, '"Please remember that this is a school and such language will not be tolerated here. You may wait in my office until the match has finished..."'

They both dissolved into fits of laughter and were still giggling when Alex delivered their food and drinks.

'Here, let me take Hugo so you can eat,' Draco said, reaching over to Hermione.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as Draco's hand brushed against her arm and a wave of musky aftershave momentarily invaded her senses. She quickly grabbed the teacup and sipped the scalding liquid, trying to hide the mortifying blush creeping across her cheeks. A sideways glance at Draco reassured her, he was entirely transfixed by Hugo.

She really needed to get out of hospital soon, this place was clearly affecting her mind...