With you in my Arms

85. "You're right. I don't believe it."

Kingsley Shaklebolt was still sitting in the office of the head auror as an owl suddenly glided into the room. Both men looked at it. Only no news were good news these days, so this couldn't be anything good.

With a deep sigh Henri Shaw untied the letter from the bird's foot while it was fed owl treats from the minister, obviously not used to this much attention it seemed to enjoy it nevertheless. Rubbing its head against the hand of the human now absent-mindedly stroking it, it watched the other one read the letter it had delivered.

"Well?" Kingsley asked eventually.

"Read for yourself, you wouldn't believe it otherwise."

The note was handed over and read.

"You're right. I don't believe it."

"I get the guys together. When this news comes out there might be the one or other..." it was clear what he was implying. It was more than likely that some witches and wizards might voice their disapproval of the situation in a rather violent manner.

"By the way," it seemed to be an afterthought really, "what happened with that Dark Mark Removal spell? Any luck with it?"

There was an evil grin on Henri's face.

"You wouldn't believe how successful it has been. The Wizengamot has sentenced twelve until now unknown Death Eaters this week alone."

"Congratulations."

A moment later another owl appeared. The two men looked at each other.

"I'm not sure I like this." the minister muttered.

With a sigh Henri retrieved the letter and read it. There was a frown forming on his face.

"Is Arthur still in the hospital?" he asked.

Kingsley looked at him with a surprised expression.

"I would expect so. Why?"

The latest message was handed over. A frown was now appearing on the face on the dark face looking at it.

"What, for Merlin's sake, has the lad been thinking?"

"Not sure, but probably it's not as over for him as he wants everybody to believe."

"Obviously not and I doubt that she has told him about the ramifications his actions would have had for her future. Not to mention his own, had he succeeded."

"Teenagers. They might be of age, but they're anything but grown-up."

There was a knock on the door.

"Boss?" a wizard in his mid-thirties asked.

The head of the Auror Office looked at him and asked, "Jenkins? What is it?"

"We've just got news from Azkaban, requesting the collection of an auror, who seemed to have gone their without official authorisation."

Henri held up the latest letter.

"I've just been informed about that as well. Go and collect him. Is Longbottom still on shift?"

"I think he's doing some experiments with his latest hybrids."

"Take him as well. Might be a good idea to have somebody there Weasley knows. I don't want him to do anything stupid. His parents have had enough grief as it is."

"Yes, Sir."

The auror went to do as he was told.

"What do you think did he have planned on doing once he actually confronted his intended victim?" Kingsley asked.

"I don't know. I very much doubt that he has thought this through really. The news of his friend was most likely the trigger."

"Hm. I'm just glad we're going to get rid of this issue soon."

"Yep."

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"Nico, what are you doing here?"

The healer came closer and surveyed the faces of the young men before him. They looked heartbroken and in Draco's case inconsolable. Strange...

"I thought you might want to see your son..." he frowned as he saw the shocked face of his former patient.

"What do you mean? My son? He's alive?"

Nico felt a bit silly. Was there something they hadn't told him? Why was the father of the wee bundle he was holding not overjoyed? He should be happy as anything not looking at him with a tear stained face, and he knew for sure that these weren't tears of joy.

"Of course he's alive." as if to prove it he stepped closer and gazed deliberately at the newborn he was holding.

An utterly confused Draco followed his example and there it was. A small pale face with wisps of dark hair was visible from amongst the blanket the baby was wrapped in.

"That's my son?" he whispered.

"Yes, that's your son. The head midwife thought you might want to show him to your wife."

"My wife?"

The healer was seriously considering to cast a quick non-verbal diagnostic spell. Something was not right with this first time father.

"Hermione, should you have forgotten. The midwife said she might need a while to fully recover, but after that you can take them both home."

It wasn't that often a young father fainted after the actual birth had taken place, but it did happen. Like just now.

"What is going on here?"

The dark skinned wizard was looking just as stunned as the one Nico now recognised as Harry Potter. Of course, he would be here. She was one of his best friends after all.

"Has anybody actually spoken to you?" Nico asked.

Harry Potter cleared his throat.

"No. Somebody just called Malfoy and led him away. Zabini and I followed as it didn't look like they would be giving him any good news."

"What exactly did they tell him?"

"Nothing as far as we know." the wizard kneeling next to the unconscious form on the floor said before pulling out his wand. "We came here and found her like that." he pointed to the only witch in the room.

"She's been sedated to give her body time to heal. It seemed they had to use some Muggle procedure in order to save mother and child." he frowned, "What did you think had happened?" he had a nasty suspicion about it though.

"We thought she was... dead." came the hushed answer.

"Merlin!"

He would need to have a serious word with the head of department here. This was the second time a young father had been let to believe the worst had happened when in case everything was fine. What were these nurses thinking? He knew that after the war there had been staffing issues, but somebody had to do some serious investigating what kind of bedside manners were being taught these days, and more importantly, what was really done on a day to day basis.

"Hermione?" a still faint sounding Draco muttered.

Blaise helped him up.

"Easy, mate."

Grey eyes were looking longingly at the witch oblivious to all the commotion around her. Could it be true? Was she really still alive? Why was she so pale? She was never this pale. With slow steps he approached the bed. His hand was clearly shaking as he extended it to touch her cheek.

She was warm.

He closed his eyes and thanked whoever it had been saving his beloved witch. Lingering his fingers on her sweet pale lips he could feel her breath on his skin. She was breathing. She really was alive. Falling onto his knees by her side he felt tears streaming over his face yet again, but this time it were tears of joy and elation. He wasn't going to be alone after all. He was going to have the family he had been dreaming about. He would have the three kids with his lioness as his mark was suggesting. He had been such a fool! The mark had told him all along that nothing would happen to her. It was promising him the future he now knew he would be having, no matter what. Hermione would be his wife for as long as he lived. She would be the mother to his children, and not just one child, but three. She wouldn't be snatched away from him. She was going to be with him always.