Lost and Found (You Found Me, Book #2)

Chapter 29: Utter Contentment

Aurora's POV

The next morning, when the baby had finally fallen fast asleep, Draco rushed the baby to St. Mungo's for a blood test. Despite my suspicions, the test confirmed Draco's argument correct. The mysterious baby was his. And Emma's. When I had expected Draco to begin sobbing hysterically and shun the baby -much like perhaps both his parents would- he didn't. He picked Scorpius up, and hugged him to his chest like he was a sacred artifact from a long extinct culture.

Maybe in any other situation I would fume to myself in the reality of Draco being right.

But in this case in particular, I was glad to be wrong.

*

When I left Draco and Scorpius at Malfoy Manor, I returned home to Harry.

Well, what I mean is I had expected Harry to be there, when I set out for home. He wasn't. I called for him, but only found myself alone with the echo of my call. In the past couple weeks, I guess I had sort of developed a neediness for him, a constant need for him to be with me. And when I'm not with him, I need to be busy with something else. To keep my mind off of him. I attempted to find busy work.

Harry and I both did the working, so I wasn't completely responsible for cleaning. But somehow with summer rolling in and our devastating spring casualties, "spring cleaning" had been moderately postponed.

So, in the need for busywork, I cleaned the kitchen ... and the living room ... and the bedroom ... and the multiple spare rooms ... and the windows ...

I read all the post that had piled up in a tiny Mt Everest by the door ... Anything I had the mental capacity to busy myself with was done. It was near noon when I finished all the things I had set out to do. I had been moving heavy antique furniture around, and running back and forth for hours to the point of dripping with sweat. My shirt stuck to my body, and I had a drastic case of greasy-hair-syndrome. There was a knock on the door. Thinking it to be Harry, I didn't bother wiping the dripping sweat from my face, or untying my shirt from around my sweaty stomach. I simply ran at the door, and threw it open.

However, my optimism quickly faded when I saw Hermione standing there.

By the look of her face, she suffered the same affect at the sight of me.

"Harry isn't home," I grumbled, then went to shut the door.

"Aurora-!" she called. I held the door mid-swing. "Wait. I actually came to talk to you."

I sighed under my breath, debating on whether I even want to indulge her.

Harry's Gryffindor conscience must of melted into my own, because I felt a pang of guilt leaving a past friend out in the elements. Stupid kind people ...

"Fine," I replied, and opened the door. "Come in."

She slowly waltzed her way through the door, and stood awkwardly in the living room.

"You cleaned. It looks nice," she commented.

"Thanks ... " I muttered, proceeding to shut the door behind her. I turned to her and started fanning the fabric of my shirt to cool myself down. "How can I help you, Granger?"

"Granger? We're suddenly on a last-name-basis?"

"Suddenly isn't exactly my word of choice in that sentence, but I'd say so."

" ... Look, I'm sorry about what I said earlier ... But I do need your help."

"Help?! What gives you the bloody good idea I would help you?"