WHO: Narcissa Malfoy & Ted Tonks WHAT: Family time. WHEN: Last summer & October 15 WHERE: St Mungo's & a coffee shop by St Mungo's
The room was silent save for Draco’s troubled breathing. Narcissa couldn’t say what had happened to him — he’d tried to keep so much from her once he’d shouldered Lucius’s responsibilities — but she could assume that one of the spells the Death Eaters muttered in her son’s ear had backfired on him. So she’d owled Zenobia and taken him straight to St Mungo’s. She spun a yarn for the hospital and made a stink about demanding a private room before they could pick at her story.
And now they waited.
Only, when the door opened and Narcissa glanced up, Edwina Tonks was standing there. A muscle in Narcissa’s jaw tightened. “I specifically asked for Healer Bulstrode.”
“I’m afraid she’s busy elsewhere,” Ted said, managing to sound almost apologetic about the fact. That she’d been warned who was in this room before she entered did help keeping her voice even, she had to admit that much. As did the Healer oath.
She looked at the kid, not bothering with a smile. He wasn’t likely to appreciate it, with the upbringing he’d had. She was sure of that.
“How did this happen?” she asked, flicking through the chart, detailing the basic complaint. Shortness of breath, chest pains, the usual. “Do you know what spell was used?”
When Draco opened his mouth to speak, Narcissa gave him a quelling look before rising to her feet. She could handle her ex-sister’s wife thinking she was a bad mother. She couldn’t handle her sister’s wife discovering her son’s recent connection to her husband’s extracurricular activities. Not when she could barely handle that it’d happened under her nose at all.
“I rather think that’s none of your concern,” Narcissa said coolly, moving to place herself between Ted and Draco, her hand snaking behind her to grasp Draco’s. “He’s Healer Bulstrode’s patient.”
“Healer Bulstrode is dealing with an emergency that just came in,” Ted said, managing to sound mostly calm. The sounds coming from the boy’s chest did not sound good. No matter how unfortunate his views on blood purity, it was difficult to listen to. “It’ll be at least forty-five minutes before she’ll be able to see him. Or I could do it now, and you’ll be out of here in no time.”
“You aren’t touching my son,” Narcissa replied, her voice low. Draco’s grip on her hand was almost too tight, but she bore it. “Send Healer Greengrass, then. Or Healer Tripe. I don’t trust you.”
“Okay,” Ted said, careful to keep her voice carefully neutral. Professional. “I’ll see who’s free. I can’t guarantee that they’re purebloods, of course. But they won’t be me. I hope that will suffice.”
She walked out without waiting for an answer.
One coffee while heavily glamoured would be fine, Ted had insisted. To herself, mostly, because Andromeda would not have agreed. Anyway, she was leaving the country soon, she could afford it. And so she walked into her favourite coffee shop across the street from St Mungos, only remembering at the last second not to ask for her usual.
This girl – she was still using her Hello I’m Leon Stebbins’ Annoying Welsh Cousin face – had never been to this place, mainly because she didn’t exist.
“Hello!” she said cheerily to the barista, a girl named Penni-with-an-i. From the looks of it Penni had finally gotten over her break up (Ted knew everything she wanted to know and a few things she didn’t about it) and celebrated it with a new haircut, just like Ted had suggested six months earlier. She hadn’t suggested pink, though. But to each their own.
“I love your hair,” she added, still smiling. “Very mermaid.”
“I call it unicorn hair,” Penni informed her. “I never really identified with mermaids, you know?”
“Me neither,” Ted agreed. You did best not identifying with merpeople, really. “I’d like a dark chocolate mocha latte with…”
A sound made her turn around. It was a cup set down a little too hard on its saucer, a quiet splash as a few drops of coffee made it onto the table. A table that was, as it turned out, occupied by Narcissa Malfoy.
“Shit.”
So this unfamiliar girl was who Narcissa thought she was. It had taken her a moment to place the voice — the summer before had been a humiliating blur and Ted’s appearance only a blip. But Ted was, after all this time, still the face of the world that’d taken her sister away from her. It was hard not to remember the little things about her.
Without realizing it, Narcissa had gotten to her feet, her quiet meeting with one of the St Mungo’s board members entirely forgotten. “What on earth are you doing here?”
There were so many answers to that questions, all which started with ‘I’m a complete idiot’ and ended with Ted in an Azkaban cell. Because yes, when you were a muggleborn wanting your regular coffee in your regular coffeeshop across from your previous job, was clearly too much to ask.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, staring at her wife’s sister, who probably had a murderer or two in tow. “I won’t be coming back though, so no need to burn the place down or torture the staff or whatever.”
“Excuse me?” Penni said behind the counter as Narcissa snapped, “Excuse you?”
“Nothing,” Ted said, and then, to Penni, “Sorry, gotta go. I’ll take that coffee another time.” And with that, she ran.