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

Chapter 39: Her

Third Person's POV

It had been nearly three days since Aurora found the boy wandering outside Potter Mansion in a blizzard. From the chairs beside Nathan's bed Harry and Aurora watched the nurse swishing a test tube in her hand, trying to thoroughly mix the potion's contents inside. They were very much shaking with nerves. Never before had they come so close to actually finding their son, actually finding Nathan. The others were obvious no's. It still hurt, nevertheless, and Aurora truly hated to admit it but she wanted nothing more than this boy to be her's.

Harry squeezed her hand. She could feel the sweat on his palm, but said nothing of it. This could be Harry's son. Their son. The son that Harry didn't even get to hold when he was born. Harry had gotten the chance to hold James and Albus and Lily. Not Nathan. Aurora had hardly touched him herself. And she was there.

She cuddled against Harry's shoulder, closing her eyes tightly. He kissed her forehead and soothingly rubbed his thumb against the top of her hand. The kids had been taken to Mrs. Weasley's house last night. Aurora felt terrible, putting them through this but Nathan could be their brother.

He had no one: no mother, no father, no family. He was probably a hostage in a Death Eater's or Cassthorpia's house (wherever that was) and had traveled for days, just to get to us. If Aurora turned out to not be his mother this "pity theory" surely will eventually evolve into something a little more rational and level-headed. But, however, as of now, Aurora is his mother, this boy needs help and he's too scared to even speak of who did this to him.

The nurse knocked on the open doorframe. Harry and Aurora turned looked to her. This nurse was quite used to them showing to visit "Dr. Malfoy" (Aurora was still not used to calling Draco that), and getting blood tests on Nathan's imposters.

They looked to her, a part of Aurora's chest filled to the brim with hope while the other part was reminding her what happened the last time, and the time before that. The nurse might've known quite well what they were thinking, but she nodded quietly.

Harry and Aurora froze.

"He's yours," she said.

Miles away from St. Mungo's Hospital, Cassthorpia stood in Malfoy Manor.

Not's Draco house. That was, in a way, Malfoy Manor 2.0; the original building was the place that had held captives and prisoners in the cellar, hosted Death Eater meetings and housed Bellatrix Lestrange during the war. Now it was just Lucius Malfoy.

A old man with long, white hair. He walked with a cane and often wandered the halls, for he was the only one left. His wife had long divorced him, his son was now widowed and took care of his own son. Lucius rarely acknowledged the fact but Draco was, indeed, a better father to Scorpius than Lucius could have ever been to him. To bide his leisure time, -the days, months, years, however long it was- Lucius fell back into old habits. The very same habits that pushed his family away, but now, as a tired old man, with nothing but years worth of inherited money and a house full of lovely things, he didn't care. No decision of his could ever make his life any worse.

And so, Lucius sat in a plush leather chair, while Cassthorpia paced back and forth past the fire. Age had been kind to her and Lucius had noticed. She was beautiful. Not a gray hair on her head, not a wrinkle on her face. She was as old as he was, maybe even a little older. He would've considered making an advance on her, if she didn't look exactly like the young girl his son had fallen for when they were young. Yes, she was beautiful but the whole situation felt wrong. Which is saying a lot for a man who's given up on ... well, given up on everything.

Lucius could read her like a well-used book.

She was furious and she had good reason to be. The Death Eaters hadn't been able to find the boy. Cassthorpia knew Aurora was hiding in plain sight but wherever plain sight was, her Death Eaters had been too stupid to find it.