My Son

Chapter7:

After they left, Hermione returned to her bed. She saw his reflection in the mirror that had left him the nurse that morning, to wear makeup. She looked at the traces of makeup and let her memories invade her mind. Slowly appeared on the surface of the mirror all the happiness that preceded the war. All the moments of his adolescence, of the friendship shared with Harry and Ron. A few years later, their entry into adult life, their wedding and their wedding night.

Then a shadow enveloped the happy atmosphere and erased Hermione's smile. Green flashes. Red. Some blood. Ashes. Shouts. The fear. Suffering. Hate. Errors. Choices. Ron. Harry. The nightmare. Ron. Lies. Harry dead. Departure. The escape.

Then there was that night when she had this child. This light joy is simple to be a mother, to forget a few hours the war to only enjoy the first tweets of his child. Take him in his arms and watch him smile. Watch him live. The only hope in this world of darkness. Imagine for him a more beautiful life, in a happier world. And do everything to fulfill it. Make this decision. Sacrifice. And finally defeat.

To protect this child. Protect him from harm, but also good people. Choose him a home, but keep him away from his old friends. Choose him a house, where he would be happy whatever the outcome of the war. Opt for the enemy who had a heart. He who did not have the courage to kill. If he had not had the strength to finish an old man, he would have had the same weakness with a baby.

But was it really for that reason that she chose to give it to Draco?

Again, this reflection of a forty-year-old who stands out on the silver surface. The face of a woman worn out by life. There are still some traces of a princess disguise that she gently wipes. That morning it seemed so important to be beautiful for Draco's coming, for the visit of this handsome man. Since then it had become an unimportant detail.

In a few minutes, she had lost the innocence, the sweetness of childhood that her madness had created around her and that had protected her for years.

Days, weeks to see Ginny come back and spend time with her, without really understanding everything she told him. Seventeen birthdays spent in this chocolate cake room without understanding that she was getting older. Every time open the little gift of Ginny and kiss and thank her for his presence and the beautiful stories she told

Doubt crept into her. Perhaps she had been wrong to keep her child away from her friends? Maybe Ginny could have really taken care of this child knowing who he was? She had come to see her every week for over seventeen years, knowing that she had had an affair with Harry, while she was guilty. If she had had to take care of this child, she would surely have loved him like his son, because he was innocent. She would have raised him as her own descendants and she would have been happy to have a child, the one she did not manage to have with Harry.

The witch's thoughts then focused on Draco. His haughty look the first year. His insults the second year. This slap in third year. The inquisitorial brigade in fifth grade. Dumbledore's death in sixth grade. And despite all that, this impression that behind this little arrogant and racist boy, was hiding a generous and honest man. This impression or rather this desire?

Gabriel becomes the priority in his mind. She had never given him a name. For her, he had always been his son. She remembered not wanting to give her a name, because with this one, she would have had to give her a name. She would have had to choose between hers and Harry's, and that was something she could not do. Besides, she should have died by killing Voldemort. She did not want this child to cling to her, as she was going to disappear from her life a few weeks later. Then this miracle happened and she was not dead and she found her child. His little boy who grew up believing that his father was Draco and yet he had become a very handsome and very kind young man.

A few tears rolled down her face again and on the mirror were the scenes she had imagined when Draco had told her about her son the week before when she did not know yet. When lost in her madness, she listened to the little voice in her heart telling her that this sun-colored man was charming and that she was flattered that he would come and see her. In all the little scenes of life she admired, she saw a loving father and a happy little boy. And from behind her tears came a smile, she had achieved what she wanted: her son had been happy

Draco returns to see Hermione. He had received a message from his son and sent one to his girlfriend, asking him to tell Gabriel that he wanted to talk to him. Knowing the character of his son, he knew he had a little time before Gabriel decided to come. He had returned to Hermione's room.

Now that her son was gone, she no longer needed to play a role. She glared at the man in the room, not understanding what he was doing there. It was not part of his plan. Her plan she had worked seventeen years ago. She noticed that coming out alive was also not planned in her scenario. But this divergence pleased her rather.

- How long did you spend in Azkaban?

- I've never been there.

- What did you do so heroic to escape this sentence?

- I ... I ... I killed Luna Lovegood.

He could have used another word, but that's what he did. He had yielded to that tender and innocent look that still asked him a little potion while knowing very well that one more sip would be fatal.

- She had gone to the dark side?

- No ... she knew things about the order of the phoenix ... and begged me to shorten her suffering.

Draco hid him that he did not know at the time that he was protecting a secret of order.

- Who thought that this crime was an escape from Azkaban?

- Ginny Potter

An immense silence permeated the room. Draco knew he had made a mistake by using that name but it was the truth and he could not do otherwise. The lies had assumed a lot of place in Hermione's past, but he did not want everything to start all over again.

- She was wrong!

Draco looked at the woman who spoke to him in that harsh tone. Who made fun of him. He was finding it increasingly difficult to recognize the Gryffindor Prefect and his happy smiles, more and more difficult to perceive in his words, the sweetness of the mother who had entrusted him with his child seventeen years earlier. His heart sank when he thought that this voice that night was used to deceive his confidence and that naive, he had fallen into the trap. Yet today, no more than during the last seventeen years, he regretted having chosen to raise Gabriel.

- In making that decision, she did a lot for Harry's son.

Draco met Hermione's eyes and found everything he thought she had lost, everything he had loved at home and still loved.

Hermione did not understand why she was smiling at him like that. Why in such a short time had she forgotten who he was? Why ? Maybe precisely because everything she hated in him teenager had now disappeared?

She restrained herself from getting up to hug him. She could not forget all those years of war and suffering. He had become a good person, but that did not erase all the harm he had done in his youth.

- Hermione, I do not know if you will stay in the hospital for a long time but when you go out, you can come live at the mansion ... there is no problem.

Hermione wondered if Ginny was wrong on some points. Sometimes Draco behaved as if he loved her a lot. This revelation scared Hermione a little but made her very warm to the heart too.

She did not know what to answer to the question and her eyes tried to leave Draco's supplicating gaze that made him want to accept the proposal.

- I think Gabriel would be so happy to spend some time with you ..., I'm sure he dreams of taking care of his mom!

- I accept

He had found the argument to make it bend and Hermione yielded. She wanted to spend time with her son, the only person in her family, her friends who was still alive. She did not dare to admit that she also agreed to give a chance to the man who had loved her for at least seventeen years, and perhaps more, and who had taken care of her son. during all those years.

End of Chapter 7