Chapter 1
"Malfoy!"
Draco would never get used to people shouting his name for necessity rather than anger or fear. Still, he turned away from the woman lay in the bed after reassuring himself she was fine, "Yes?" He asked with an exasperated tone, sighing as he walked to the door, closing it behind him. The younger healer looked quite anxious and he wasn't entirely sure why.
"When you call me so urgently, be sure your words are in order beforehand," he forced a smile, which made the younger man freeze with a frown, "Um... It's Harry--Potter, you remember him, don't you?" He asked. "In fact, I do, why? If he's been committed, he isn't my problem until I'm called, I don't specialize with Aurors often, they're not my expertise," Draco placed his hands on his hips, tilting his head. "No, he's... Malfoy, he's dead."
Those were the words that, perhaps a few years ago, Draco would've been happy to hear. Now, however, at twenty-five and well over his childhood grudge, those words filled him with dread.
The man pressed his hands to his mouth, "Oh, I was told to wait to tell you, but I honestly thought you should know--" he began, but Draco had begun on step already, "Yes, well, this is the first and last time I'd be so grateful for you to ignore superior orders," he cut in, hurrying down the hallway, stopping only briefly to ask someone at the desk where the now deceased Boy Wonder may be.
"Malfoy."
Again, having his name called in anything other than fear or anger startled him a bit, though he should've been used to it by now. He turned on his heels and came face to face with the Head Healer, Malakai Hobbson. "Mr. Potter is down in the morgue with Miss Avery, she did request you, though I told Harrison to keep his mouth shut for the time being," he said. Draco stared at him, "Was he only just brought in?" He asked. Malakai shrugged, "Miss Avery knows the specifics, I was only just informed myself. Hurry, before she gets all antsy."
Draco was a... Strange healer. He'd spent all of his make-up year after Hogwarts under Madam Pomfrey and had spent the last near six years practicing every medicine he possibly could at once. He was on-sight for everything with no special specifics apart from curses, those of which he was mostly called for, but he could've been called for anything and had a decent hand in it. As such, it wasn't peculiar he was called by Miss Avery to assist her in autopsies or to simply assess the body beforehand, to check for lingering curses and the like.
It wasn't as dingy and dark as you'd probably have expected. In fact, much the opposite, Miss Avery had all the lights on with music blasting, not too loud but not quite enough to be ignored.
When Draco saw Harry's body, head tilted up on the block, the Y drawn out on his chest, it honestly didn't feel real. His skin was pale, much too pale to be... Live, he was cold and clammy and he wasn't moving at all. Not in the slightest. It was a bit freaky. "Was he just admitted?" He asked, looking to the older woman. She fixed her glass, smacking her lips with a sigh, "Yes, but he's been dead for longer than that, a few days I'd say. I just... I need you to be down here, to see if there're any long-term curses I need to watch out for."
No, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was as if all the magic had been drained from Harry entirely. His body was barren.
He shook his head, "No, nothing, Miss Avery. What do you think caused it?"
"I haven't even begun the autopsy, yet, Draco," she said, frowning a bit. "Yes, but... A guess, a wild one, I suppose, what do you think caused his death? He was an Auror, and a good one, he wouldn't drop dead from just anything," Draco said, perhaps a bit desperate for information. Miss Avery looked back to the body, resting her fingers on his arm. It didn't twitch, not in the way would've. "He's Harry Potter, he can't just die," Draco muttered, crouching beside the table. He bit his thumb, a habit he'd been desperately trying to break for fear of the boys picking it up.
"Look, we've alerted what family we can, they'll probably be coming in a few days to see the body, until then... I don't know, check him over a few more times, see if anything is lingering. I know he's dead, but magic doesn't just dissipate like that," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, then turning out of the morgue, leaving him to his own devices.
Draco stared at Harry with a pointed look, brows furrowing, "A rash decision it may be... But," he paused, tapping a finger on the table, tilting his head, "a necessary one it may be, a--comfort for your... Bastard friends and I suppose a comfort to myself. You're an Auror, you can't have died from nothing and whatever it was it has completely gotten rid of any magic you hold so very dear..." He sighed, standing, "However, I have patients I must attend to tonight, you will have to wait for me." He muttered. As he swallowed, he turned sharply and left the room, moving a hand through his hair and stripping his fingers of the gloves, dropping them into one of the bins in the hallways.
Returning home that night, finally relieving Pansy and Blaise of their babysitting duty, was a strange situation. He felt... Blank, like a canvas still wrapped in its plastic and on a shelf, waiting to be bought and expressed onto.
"What happened at Mungo's today, then?" Pansy whispered, trailing into the bedroom with Scorpius in her arms. The young boy was three, half the age of Teddy, and quite liked to be scooped in 'Aunt Pansy's' arms. Not his aunt, nor Teddy's, but Draco would not correct him. He turned to her, taking Scorpius from her and holding him to his own chest. "Potter," he returned, stroking the boy's white hair, rocking him for a moment, then crouching beside the toddler bed and placed him on it, tucking him. "What about him? Causing trouble?"
"He's dead."
Pansy's breath audibly left her in a startled gasp, "He's--" she stopped, hand on her chest as the door slid open quietly, Blaise entering. "Potter? How? He's like... Invincible? How did that happen?" She asked in a flurry. Draco shrugged, carefully stroking over Scorpius' face, then he stood, fiddling with his cuffs, "I'm not sure, Miss Avery hasn't done the autopsy yet, she says she's waiting for whatever family he has to see him, which I assume would just the be the Weasleys and the Granger girl," he clapped his hands to his thighs, stopping only when he saw the door shift again.
"Teddy, you should be in bed," he said, brows furrowing as Blaise and Pansy shifted the side. He moved forward, taking the boy in his arms, holding him up against his hip, "I want a hot chocolate," Teddy whispered, holding Draco's shoulder. He sighed, tilting his head, "Then to bed--straight to bed, do you understand?" He asked. Teddy nodded. "Alright, come on," he readjusted Teddy on his hip and came out of the room, "I'll make you two coffees, as well, before you leave," he offered, looking back to the couple.
"Just teas, Draco, and we'll make them ourselves," Blaise said, glancing back at Scorpius as he slept. "No, I'll have--um... Tack!" Draco called. From thin air, the tiny house elf appeared, wispy hair tied with a ribbon she'd made herself from the sack she wore. Honestly, Draco had tried to give her something more comfortable to wear, reassuring he wasn't firing her, but she had insisted she was perfectly fine. "Yes, Master Draco?" She spoke, wide eyes fixated up on him. "Can you watch Scorpius while I'm downstairs?"
"Of course, Master Draco," she nodded. Tack was quite fond of the two boys, actually, so she was always quite cheerful when she was tasked with watching them. As opposed to Kreacher, though he was typically at Grimmauld Place, fixing the place up under Draco's aunt's rule, though she was still only a painting. "Thank you," he muttered.
The kitchen was wide and cold, not unlike the morgue. Draco paused in the doorway, head inclining as he thought back to it. The last time he saw Harry dead was in seventh year when Voldemort 'killed' him, he was still then, but he still twitched, he wasn't pale or clammy or cold then. But he was on that table.
"Papa," Teddy pushed his face a bit, pulling him out the trance. "Hm... Sorry, Teddy, come sit, come," he set him down on the counter, turning the kettle on. He didn't much care about hot chocolate made with water or milk, he personally couldn't tell the difference, but Teddy liked it made with only water, no milk at all, which Scorpius thought was quite disgusting. Pansy handed him the mugs, leaning against the counter. "How are you... I mean, I know you 'hated' him, but still," she sighed, staring at him, "what are you going to do?"
"What I have to. I will sort him as part of my job at St. Mungo's, give whatever person bothers to show up reassurance he's in a better place or..." He waved a hand, pulling up the kettle and filling the mugs. "You're not going to do anything rash, are you, Draco?" Blaise came up on his other side, a hand coming up onto his arm. Draco looked to it, then to Blaise's face, "No," he said simply, "of course not. Doing anything to endanger my job might endanger my children, too," he looked to Teddy, who stared up at him with those curious eyes he always did. He raised a hand, moving the boy's swiftly changing hair out of his face, "I'd never do anything to endanger them..."
Pansy and Blaise shared a look.
"Come on, Teddy, I'll tuck you in," Pansy said, picking him up off the counter once he had his hot chocolate, "two hands, two hands," she reminded, "there we go," she smiled, stroking his hair down as she left the kitchen.
"She would make a great mother," Draco commented. "Hopefully soon," Blaise muttered, "but, I'm going to talk about you. And Potter. Seriously, don't try anything and if you do--call us first, Draco, you know we'd help you with anything," he said, taking a second to share a rare display of affection, moving Draco's hair out of his face. "I won't do anything," he said again. "Maybe not right now, but you're thinking of doing something," Blaise retorted.
"Anything that could possibly risk my job or risk me keeping my boys, I would refrain from doing. However, I am preoccupied on the--death. It seems so surreal, I can't believe he's actually dead, there's no possible way he could be dead now," he shook his head, running a hand over his mouth, sighing out. "I don't know what to do... I can help Miss Avery with his body and... Then what? I let Weasley and Granger bury him? Or cremate him and spread his," he paused, eyes flickering over the counter, "bastard ashes in some place he held dear to his heart--Merlin, he'd haunt Hogwarts," he dropped his head, breathing out. "He is dead. I have failed my entire purpose of trying to keep him alive."
"Since when was that your purpose?"
"Since I helped him kill the Dark Lord with my wand," Draco deadpanned. Then he let out a hollow breath, shaky. "Blaise, I have a duty to the people we attended school with. We've been through so much together, we are all... Bonded in some way, and yet the one person that I genuinely did not wish death upon recently--has died. He is gone and has been for a few days at most. I have failed them and as much as I care to deny, I do actually consider what they think of me."
"He didn't come to you until after he died, Draco, that's not your fault."
"No, it isn't, yet I know spells and I have the magic enough to bring him back."
"You wouldn't."
"I could," Draco raised his shoulders, "it isn't illegal," he said. "But you have no family to give permission for you to do that! And also, it's highly unrecommended, do you know the consequences?"
"What consequences? I bring a boy back and someone else dies? Someone I don't know or care about? Why, Blaise, should I care of some random person's death if I bring back our Boy Savior?" He said, forcing an air of angelic-y at the end. He waved his hands in a flutter, sighing after. "I understand you don't... Approve of the way I think, you are better than I, but... I can't deal with his death on my mind while knowing I can do something about it... It will no jeopardize my career nor the custody of my children. He has no family to give permission, there is nothing that says against it, he's an adult, it's not illegal, I have... Viable reason to do it."
"For your own comfort?"
"For England's comfort... Boy Wonder gone, what are they going to do? They'll be up in arms..." But he bowed under Blaise's glare. "Perhaps for my own comfort, a bit, but not entirely. It isn't for a selfish reason, he is twenty four, he doesn't deserve to be dead yet."
It was Astoria's weekend with Scorpius.
She arrived with a stony look, a cardigan on her shoulders and purse in her hands. "How has he been, Draco?" She was formal with him as ever, polite enough. They never ended on bad terms, he supposed it was just... Bitter feelings that it ended at all. "Mostly fine, but he hasn't been wanting to sleep alone recently," he answered. She only had him every weekend simply because she was busy at the Ministry most of the time. Draco, ironically, had the freest schedule, they made the arrangement before they divorced that Draco would have him most of the time.
"Why not?"
"I'm not sure," he said, moving Scorpius' hair out of his face, "I just think he's getting a bit anxious, he is in nursery now, I can only imagine he's worried about it," he muttered. Astoria sighed, raising her hands, "Come here," she took Scorpius into her arms. As rigid as she was in her affection for Draco, she was an excellent mother, even if she never really wanted to be in the first place. "You're going to spend all weekend with Mother, and I'm going to spoil you until you rot," she smiled, pressing their noses together, "what time are you available to pick him up on Monday, then?" She asked, "I can have him longer, I know your schedule is getting a bit busy what with all the... Accidents and that, all these kids getting rowdy just because it's summer," she scoffed.
"If you wouldn't mind, please," he nodded, "did you hear about Potter?"
"His death? Unfortunate, in all honesty," she breathed out, stroking Scorpius' hair, perhaps her favorite thing about her son, "I'm surprised there haven't been a thousand stories on it yet," she said. "I don't think the Ministry wants everyone to know just yet, it'd cause a mass panic, I believe. The Boy Savior--dead. It'd be more than a shock, it'd send everyone into a standstill."
"Quite right," Astoria nodded, "say hello to Teddy for me," she said, giving a polite nod before she left the Manor through the Floo, Scorpius was just old enough that he could travel that way now, thankfully. Draco nodded, staring at the green flames that burst up. After a second, he sighed and headed upstairs.
"Are you ready?"
"Why do you have to go all day?" Teddy stared at him, frowning as he shoved one of his wolf teddies into his bag. Draco stilled at the door, "Some kids are.. Rambunctious when it comes to summer, Teddy, I've got at least five in with broken bones... Scorpius won't be back until Tuesday, so," he knelt down, holding Teddy's shoulders with gentle hands, "we have the weekend and all after school together, I'll take you to the Aquarium, if you'd like, hm?" He made a smile, which got Teddy to smile, hair shifting pink. He nodded, "Okay..."
Draco nodded then, "Alright, come on... You're going to spend this weekend with Blaise and Pansy, they're going to spoil you again, you know," he stood, taking Teddy's hand and heading out to the fireplace, just in time for the pair to arrive.
"Did we miss her?"
"Just," Draco said. Blaise and Pansy looked to each other, sighing a bit. They didn't hate Astoria, it was just awkward after so many years apart from each other. "Don't overwork yourself," Pansy said, taking Teddy's bag and hanging it on her shoulder. She smiled down at him, "Are you all ready and set to go?" He nodded at her, "Alright, come on then," Blaise said, putting his hand out.
When they were gone, Draco got ready and left himself, arriving at St. Mungo's for the longest shift he'd had in a while. Kids in and out with toys stuck in their noses, wands spelled through their bones, broken bones, missing bones. All sorts of injuries that either warranted an overnight stay or was fixed in seconds.
It was almost eleven when he finally got a break. He bypassed the break room, heading straight downstairs for the morgue. Miss Avery wasn't scheduled in today, no one was down there. Just him and Harry.
He pulled the sliding table out from the freezer, staring at him. He looked awfully skinny. He was freezing cold and still clammy. "Oh, Blaise, you're going to murder me..." He sighed, pressing his lips into a thin line. The spell was complicated and long and by the end of it, Harry's body was seizing but his heart was not beating. Not yet.
He collapsed onto the floor and Draco barely cast a muffliato charm in time. He thanked Merlin there were no cameras anywhere. "Oh, Harry--Harry," he grabbed his shoulders where he collapsed, holding him from hitting his head. He stabilized the body, turning him onto his side in the event he threw up, though he most likely wouldn't.
Draco was about to give up, ready to fully discard his body for the autopsy in a day or two. But then, as if Merlin had intervened himself, Harry sucked in a gasp, heart beating rapidly as he coughed and writhed on the cold floor. In a place like St. Mungo's, it wasn't weird to find people in the morgue to wake up, so they kept a select few belongings of each person and a heating blanket just in case. He searched for Harry's glasses, first, then grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders and holding him up.
"Harry--"
"Malfoy?" He choked out, hurrying it out between a breath. He coughed a few more times before he finally managed to breathe regularly, "What--am I in a morgue?" He asked. "Harry, for the past five days, you've been officially dead," he said, holding Harry's face in place, "I have brought you back."