Act Two
August 1st
Pansy gave herself a pep talk as she edged to corner into The Ministry, the pram was shiny and beautiful as Lala had spent the night polishing it, she was wearing some of her newer clothes – a pair of black straight trousers, a sleek pair of heels and a turtle neck top. Her hair, much longer than it ever should have gotten – was pulled back into a tedious little bun at the base of her neck held together with a jeweled clip that had belonged to some ancestor or another.
Since it had been so long since she had been out of the house, nearing almost a full year now – she hoped that most everyone wouldn’t recognize her. She would have sent Lala, but there were errands that she couldn’t pass on, things that needed her own signature and the such. Like registering her baby. She shuttered.
She warily eyed people behind the wholly unnecessary large round sunglasses that were upon her face. Henry squirmed in his pram again, looking wholly upset at this new environment. It was quite loud, much louder than he was used to. He was sat up in his pram wide green eyes trying to catch glimpses through the veil of the pram.
She forged ahead.
Tucked in the back corner was a set of elevators so she headed that way, passing what must be a new installation in the Ministry, a statue of someone so familiar that her heart raced. It was Potter, wand in hand, hair waving back from his face and across from him was the snake, the evil himself, his billowing robes perfectly recreated in black marble. Between them was the beam that had lit up the court yard that day, red meets green, the pouring off of extra energy. The plaque on the bottom read, in tight little carved letters,
“The Final Battle.” She blinked. Walked away.
Her heels made confident sounds on the floors that she herself lacked at the moment, she shuffled into the elevator with a few other fellows, a red head that made her push herself back into a corner – just in case. She pushed for her floor and felt the elevator give a jolt. It seemed to upset Henry as he let out a little cry, “Mama, mama, mama” He cried. She couldn’t hold him, couldn’t take him out, people would see. So she settled for leaning her head in through the mesh of the pram to give him an encouraging look, kissing the tip of his nose and forehead, he gave her a toothy little smile and shoved the cold gummy toy back into his mouth. He was nearing his first birthday now, she though wistfully.
They arrived with a jolt at their floor and she inched between the people to get out, making her way down the halls. Little purple slips of paper fluttered here and about as she made her way to the registry.
The desk was being manned by a slightly familiar brunette in pink robes. Pansy wrinkled her nose, pushed her glasses up higher and dinged the bell at the desk. The woman had been writing quickly with a quill on one of the purple slips of paper.
“One moment.” She directed, not looking up. Pansy huffed under her breath and looked around. There was an office behind the registry desk, with one door propped open. The name outside the door made her cringe. She wanted to go back to the manor and curl up in the pastures, she wanted to read in her room, she wanted to listen to old records, she wanted to do anything but this. But she had promised. Oh, all the promises.
“Alright then, baby, elf, or otherwise?” The woman asked, still not looking up at Pansy.
“Pardon?” She asked, flinched a bit at how hoarse her voice sounded. She didn’t do much talking these days.
“For registering. Are you registering a human or another magical creature, we have to ask.” Pansy didn’t want to know, or even ask, so instead she just cleared her throat.
“Baby.”
“Alright then.” The woman presented her with a scroll attached to a clip board and a quill and ink. “Fill out this form and then we’ll get you all registered when are you due?” Finally the brunette looked up from her post, she blinked and blinked some more. Pansy was there, flat stomached with a pram. Finally a name connected with the face. Bell. Katie Bell.
“Oh. Newborn?” She asks.
Pansy purses her lips. “No. He’s nearing one now.” She said.
“I’m sorry – I – I okay.. usually, ma’am, a mother comes to register the baby before he was born. I’ve never done this before. So, can I get your name please?”
“Parkinson. Pansy.” She says. The woman’s mouth drops, it obnoxious really, Pansy thinks. She peaks the glasses up so the woman can see her eyes before settling them on her nose again. “This is baby Henry… Parkinson…” She said. They hadn’t talked about that yet. Potter had just been adamant that his son be registered.
“Oh. Oh my, okay, one moment I’m going to get my superior and see if she knows how we should handle this. One moment.” Katie Bell stood from her chair and pushed into the office, Pansy fought the urge to gnaw at her fingernails.
From inside the office emerged Katie and following her, Granger. Pansy felt her lip curl up almost as if in an instinct. Granger looked good in respectable navy blue robes.
“Granger.” Pansy greeted, forcing her voice into a cordial tone. She wanted to snarl at the woman, for this was all her fault. Her and Potter, really.
“Pansy. Good to see you.”
“I thought you were in the Department of Mysteries.” She said. Potter had shared some things, in their nights in the garden with Henry. Typically it was about the MLE, some newer practices and his day to day life, how he manages his house elf and what was going on with him and his golden little friends. This had come up.
“I go where I’m needed. I started the magical creature registration here, just to make sure that they were being treated properly. My main office is up here.” She says. Its wholly too much information and Pansy just wants to disapparate with Henry and never step foot out of the house again.
“Now lets get this baby registered.” She has some papers in her hand, and with a guiding arm she leads them into her office and she shuts the door. The office is nice enough. The windows show a sunny outside, there are framed pictures about of her parents, one that doesn’t move. Her friends. A picture of her wedding with Weasley, lots of red heads waving in that one.
Pansy sits delicately in the chair as Granger goes around to her side of the desk.
“Alright. Name?”
“Henry Matthew Parkinson.” Granger looks up from under her eye lashes.
“Matthew?”
“My fathers name.”
“Parkinson? Is Harry okay with that?” Granger asks, a brow raised. Pansy feels her hackles rise. Who is this woman to question her own decisions about her son.
“It hasn’t been discussed, but he’s my son. I can decide what his last name is.” She says, tense between her teeth.
“Actually. Pansy. It’s wizardling law that the child must take the last name of the father, as ancient and patriarchal as it is, it’s true.” She says. Pansy grinds her teeth together, anger flushing across her face and neck.
“Fine. Henry Matthew Potter.” She spits out.
“Good. Age?”
“He’ll be one come October 1st.” Pansy danced her fingers in her lap. Her breasts were beginning to ache. It was almost time to feed Henry.
“Alright. I know Harry’s occupation what would you classify as yours?”
“I’m a stay at home mother, caretaker to my homes.” She says.
“Alright, and do you plan to school Henry publicly or privately?”
“He’ll be schooled at home with me.” She says. Granger’s head snaps up like her hair has been pulled, her fingers are white around her quill.
“Pansy…” She says, her tone consists of something to do with a warning.
“Next question please.”
“You can’t home school him Pansy, how will he learn to be with other people? To socialize?”
“He doesn’t need other people, he has me and he has Lala.” She says.
“That’s not enough and you know it, you can be a recluse all you want but don’t make your child suffer just because you don’t want to come outside. Send him to Hogwarts.” Granger’s tone was rising, she was getting that indignant flush that Pansy had seen so many times at school.
“I don’t need your advice on what to do with my child. He’ll go where I take him, he’s safe at home with me. You’re supposed to be registering him now do your job.”
“No. Henry needs to go to school Pansy. He’s already probably missing out on socialization, I read in a book –“
“Granger I swear to Merlin….”
“Pansy! Just because you had a horrible time at school making other people feel horrible doesn’t mean that Henry is going to turn out the same way. Hopefully he has enough Harry in him to make him a decent human being.” Granger snapped.
Pansy felt ice run down her spine. Her mouth snapped shut, her eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses. There was a burning rage in her stomach, make her hands tremble. She stood up, rocking the chair back in the process.
“You stay away from me, and you stay away from my family. You don’t know me, and you don’t know Henry.” She pushed the Pram away, using her wand she pushed the door open and marched past the front desk and down the hall. She could hear the scuffle of feet behind her, Granger just didn’t know when to quit.
“Pansy!” She was screaming. Pansy flushed, having someone scream her name in public would do nothing but draw attention to her. She forged forward, if she could just make it to the elevator..
“Pansy!” She shouted again. Pansy pushed faster.
“Pansy?” This voice was different. She came to an immediate stop. Through her angry tears and sunglasses she could make out Potter, in his dark red regulation Auror robes. Beside him was a tall Irishman, Seamus and a familiar lanky red head behind them.
“What are you doing here?” He asked. Pansy shuffled. Her hands were bone white on Henry’s pram.
“I’m registering him. Like you wanted.” She said, between clenched teeth. Out of breath, beside them Granger appeared.
“Harry you have to do something, she wants to home school Henry!” Granger pushed out in a rush. Her readheaded husband coming to her side to place a large hand on her shoulder.
“What? What’s going on we just went out to get some lunch.” Harry said, holding up a brown paper bag. “Pansy what’s she on about?”
“She has objections as to where and how I want to educate my baby, and I don’t think that’s any of her concern.” Pansy snapped. To her horror she felt a cool trickle beneath her breasts, and the ache grew to a throb. She was leaking. Like a fucking cow in the middle of the Ministry for Magic in front of all these bloody Gryffandor’s. Hot tears of anger, shame and frustration rolled out from beneath her sunglasses against her hot cheeks. She drew one arm away from the pram and pressed them into her chest.
“I-I-“
“Pansy. Christ. Come on, to my office. Ron, take Hermione .. somewhere. I’ll take care of this.” With one hand on her arm and one on the pram Harry led them down the opposite hall. They went through a pin of cubicles, lots of little lavender notes everywhere. She just watched her feet. She didn’t want to see the people staring at her. Knowing her. Judging her.
Harry’s office was at the back of the room, there was a single wooden door that had a welcome mat at the base of it. He pushed through and shut the door, he had a large oak desk that was dominated by unorganized stacks of paper, a few wooden frames here and there and a pile of broken quills.
There was a slightly torn up oversized olive green chair in the corner. That’s where he led her. Henry was beginning to whimper. Without thinking of Potter or where she was or what was going on. She yanked her shirt over her head, unstrapped her bra which was sticking embarrassingly to her skin and pulled Henry from the pram. She barely felt when Potter placed his dark red auror cloak over her shoulders.
With little dignity she ran her fingers under her eyes, catching mascara tinted tears that tried to escape. Potter sat on the floor in front of her, knees folded up.
“Christ. Merlin. Pansy what’s going on?”
“I didn’t want to come here Potter, I didn’t and now look?” She sniffled. Pressing her face into Henry’s hair.
“What happened?”
“I went to register him, like you wanted and Granger and her judging.. I just want to best for Henry. He should be home, with me. And then I started leaking, I just..” Harry sighed, ran a hand through his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.
“Pansy. Hermione didn’t mean any harm, I know she didn’t. But we can’t homeschool Henry. He needs to be with other children. To explore his potential, you know that. You have twelve years to be with him before any letters from any schools come.” Harry shifted forward, so that he could brush a hand over Henry’s little foot. “I didn’t know you … leaked..”
“It’s when I can’t get him to the breast fast enough, the milk just comes whether I want it to or not.”
“Well it’s natural. And no one could tell. Please, stop crying.” She traced her fingers underneath her eyes, checking them to make sure there were no smudges. Harry wrangled Henry from her breast and began the process of bouncing and burping as Pansy made herself presentable again. She ran her wand over her shirt, drying it. She shuffled her blouse back on and sat back, breathing deeply in the chair. She watched, twisting her sunglasses in her lap, as Harry bounced the child on his broad shoulder, Henry laughing and burping, he would end up with spit up on him if he wasn’t careful.
“I’m not normally this emotional.” She started, finger itching and twisting for a cigarette. She wouldn’t smoke though. The most she got now was the occasional waft from Harry’s own smoke.
“We knew this wasn’t going to be easy.” He said, he leaned back against his desk, Henry cradled in his arms.
“Harry.. I can’t.. this is too much, our life is fine the way it is. Can’t we wait –“
“Waiting wont help Pans.” She never game him permission to call her that, but he does anyway. “Waiting is just putting off the inevitable. He’s going to get a letter one day, and he’s going to go to school and hear nothing but confliction about his parents.” He said. She watched the way his forest eyes gently roved over Henry’s face as it grew tired and puckered. “That’s how I learned about my parents. But at least he would have us to come home to, to send letters to, but he deserves better than that.”
Pansy stretched her legs, examined the blunt bottom of her heel and stood.
“Then I suppose I’ll need to go finish wont I?” She held her hands out for him, to place him back in the pram.
“Why don’t I just come with you – “
“And cause a scene – “
“It wouldn’t be causing a scene if – “
“This whole thing is a circus, Potter. People see us together..”
“People are going to see us together Pansy! We’re Henry’s Parents!”
“For Merlin’s sake – “
“I’m coming.”
Granger’s office looked the exact same but it was certainly busier than before. Henry laid snoozing in his covered Pram, Pansy sat in the seat she had before – gone cold already from her abrupt departure, Harry sat next to her, rubbing the bridge between his nose like it was the cure for paternal stress. She had no sympathy for him.
Granger herself was back behind her desk, hair a bit frazzled, navy robes still mostly in place. Her lanky, red headed husband was in the chair in the corner. Eyes wide, taking in what Pansy knew to be a dramatic scene. Take two of a failed production.
“Okay.. I’m going to start the form over if you don’t mind.”
Pansy made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat.
“Alright then, name of the child?”
“Henry Matthew Potter.” She examined her nails with great interest. She would have Lala manicure them.
“Age?”
“One, come October 1st.”
“Your occupation?”
“Mother.”
“You have no income coming into the house?” Granger asked, tapping the quill.
“I’m from old money.” She said, dryly. A snort came from the corner of the room.
“And it’s enough money that Henry is properly provided for without any incoming money from an occupation?”
“More than enough, he’ll live and die a wealthy man.” She said. She watched as Granger’s brow tick. She forgot how fun it was to get the girl up in a tizzy.
“Weren’t your assets seized by the ministry?” This came from her husband.
“No they were not, Mister Auror. I’m sorry - why is here?” She asked.
“Pansy…” Harry warned. Pansy silenced herself.
“No assets were seized because neither my parents nor myself were Death Eaters.” She said. “They had no contact with The Dark Lord.”
“No provable contact.”
“That’s correct.” She took in Henry’s sleeping face. He looked remarkably like Harry then.
“And his education?”
“He’ll go to Hogwarts when his letter comes.” Harry answered for her. She kept her lips pinched tight together.
“And before then? The ministry provides and early childhood program to get them socialized and – “
“That’s up to Pansy.” Harry said, Pansy looked over at him, and found him looking at her. His scarred, pale hand resting on the arm rest of her chair.
“I’ll have to … look into it.” Pansy said, with some difficulty. Potter gave her a half smile.
“And his permanent residence is with you?” Granger asked her, looking pointedly away from Harry’s hand on her chair.
“For now, we haven’t worked that out yet.” Henry has yet to be over to Harry’s and they haven’t discussed him going over there. Harry’s home was a historical landmark in the wizarding community. The hidden Grimmauld place. Where the order planned the destruction of The Dark Lord and saved the wizarding community, or something of that effect. All Harry has said about it is that it’s dark, taken care of by a strange house elf and ‘needs work’ before a baby can come close to it.
“Alright. Health status?”
“Very healthy baby.”
“No colds, coughs, or anything that need to be looked at?” Granger asked.
“No.”
“When was his last wellness checkup with a wizard physician?”
“He’s never had one. The midwife who delivered him comes and checks upon my health and his.”
“And who is this midwife and how may I contact her?”
“She’s privately employed by my family. There is no need to contact her.”
“How many private employee’s do you have?” Granger asked, her voice up a notch.
“Is this still part of the registration process?”
“As a matter of fact it is, I know you have an unregistered house elf and any other employees you may have, magical creature or otherwise need to be accounted for.” Her voice was sharp.
“In the event that I go dark and you need to question everyone in contact with me.” It wasn’t a question, it was just a directed statement. She tensed. It was full of bad ideas to come here, greater still to expect any kind of rational sympathy or understanding.
A warm presence covered her leg, Harry’s hand, scarred and rough laid on her thigh.
“She has a house elf and the midwife and no one else.” He spoke for her. “I’ve met the midwife, she’s qualifying. Henry and Pansy are in perfect health.” Granger looked at her friend, her brown eyes softening upon impact. Henry shuffled in his pram unhappily. Pansy hefted him out as his eyes fluttered open.
“Hand him here.” Pansy passed him to Harry, who held him close to his chest.
The baby began his babbling ‘mama mama mama mama Lala Lala Lala.’
“It’s so strange seeing you hold a baby.” Granger said, from behind the desk. Her eyes focused on Harry and Henry, whose grabby fingers were pulling at Harry’s robes and brushing his rough chin.
“It was strange to me at first, but now it’s right. Everything’s right Hermione. I know you’re nervous but I trust Pansy with Henry… with my life.. This is hard for her.”
“Potter – “ She went to cut him off, these people didn’t need to know their business.
“We want to keep this as quiet as possible. I know you have to put him on the daily registration but advertising him could put him or pansy in danger. We don’t want to draw any necessary attention to ourselves, especially now as we’re still working out the logistics. You’re going to have to work with us Hermione.” Harry said. Granger set her quill down, and rubbed at the space between her eyebrows. She could do with a wax.
“I’ll work with you Harry, you know I will.”
And so it was.
For awhile.