Chapter Text
Herbert pulled his duvet up, bundling it under his chin. He was lying on the sofa in Mom’s inner office, the light turned down low so it wouldn’t hurt his eyes and make him even dizzier.
He yawned, unsure if he could fall back asleep, his stomach churning.
He hoped he didn’t have to throw up.
Herbert hated throwing up. It was nasty and vile, and never made him actually feel better.
He considered calling for Mom, or maybe even Uncle Percy. He knew Mom had left the door ajar, but he didn’t want to be a bother, he just wanted to feel better.
Stupid fairy bite. Stupid infection. Stupid magic.
If only he wasn’t sick.
Though he wouldn’t have been allowed to come to the Ministry in the first place if he was healthy.
At least he had his own duvet and pillow, Dad making sure it was freshly laundered before packing him up to go with Mom.
“Hello.”
Herbert opened his eyes, the world swimming for a few seconds before he could focus. He had expected to see Uncle Percy, or a house elf, but instead, he saw a boy.
“… Hello?”
Herbert blinked, sure his eyes were betraying him, but no, there really was another boy in Mom’s inner office.
He was wearing wizards robes, and had to be about Herbert’s age. He looked tall, taller than Herbert. He had white blonde hair and gray eyes, a curious expression on his face.
“Are you sick?” The boy titled his head, watching him completely unashamedly, and Herbert suddenly felt bad for the animals he had seen at the zoo, being stared at, not a very nice feeling. “You look sick.”
“I am sick.” Herbert sat up, a moment of dizziness washing over him. Dad had insisted he wore his nice pajamas, and Herbert felt grateful for that now. “A fairy bit me.”
“Really?” The boy’s eyes widened. “Can I see?”
“Mmh.” Herbert nodded, showing his right hand that was wrapped in a white bandage.
Herbert knew they weren’t allowed to enter Grandma’s special garden, but Freddy had insisted, and Herbert hadn’t meant to frighten the fairy.
They had just been playing.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little bit, or- a lot bit.”
When the fairy bit him, Herbert had screamed, and all of the adults had come running outside, Grandpa still wearing a party hat. The air had exploded with magic, Freddy dropping to the ground and pulling Herbert with him, spells shooting over their heads.
“Mostly when I do this-“ Herbert pressed on his palm, and purple goo oozed out, coloring the white bandage.
“Ew!” The boy giggled, radiating delight. “That’s so gross!”
Herbert had regretted pressing on his wound, his hand hurting even more now, but it didn’t seem to matter if the other boy thought it was cool.
“My Dad says it’s infected.”
Grandma had cleaned him up and wrapped his hand, but she hadn’t healed it. Apparently, it was best if his own magic took care of it.
Grandma and Dad had argued a bit about it, but Grandma got her way in the end.
Freddy hadn’t been hurt at all, and Herbert personally thought that was very unfair, since he was the one who had come up with the idea of trying to catch a fairy in a jam jar in the first place.
“Do you want to play?” The boy had stopped looking at his hand, instead watching him again, Herbert squirming under the attention. “My Dad is-“
“I’m sick.” Herbert had started to feel dizzy once more, sitting up probably not a good idea, his hand throbbing. He hoped Mom wouldn’t get too upset with him, Herbert hating it when she was disappointed with him.
“Oh. Right.” The boy nodded, a serious expression on his face. “Well… Can I stay anyway?”
Herbert nodded, a bubbling happiness fighting the nausea in his stomach. He wanted the boy to like him, wanted to get to know him better, wanted to-“
“Good.” The boy grinned, getting down on his knees next to the couch, his arms resting on the cushion.
“How did you get bit by a fairy anyway?” He looked up at Herbert, gray eyes filled with curiosity. “Because I’m not allowed to be outside by myself.”
“Me too, but I was playing with my cousin.”
“I have a second cousin, but we don’t see him much.” The boy rested his chin on his hand.
“That’s sad.” Herbery couldn’t imagine not seeing his cousins all the time, Victorie telling the best stories while Freddy and Dominique had taught him so many cool games.
“It’s okay.” The boy shrugged. “He’s old.”
“My cousin is a little old.” Freddy was two years older than Herbert, and even though all the adults told him it wasn’t a lot, it was a lot. A whole lot lot. “He was Peter Pan, and I’m John, and we were looking for-“
“Who’s Peter Pan?”
*
“So, how does the Minister like the color now?”
“Draco-“ Hermione tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice, even though Malfoy had every right to be annoyed with her.
Frankly, she was annoyed with herself.
It wasn’t like her to misread invitations, to make mistakes like overlooking a themed dress code for a gala, but ever since Herbert had been bitten she had been - distracted.
She didn’t want her private life to interfere with her work, but what was she supposed to do when she had a sick child?
They had tried everything to give his body the required time to rest, Herbert so sensitive to noise and light while he was recovering.
It was apparently important that Herbert’s own body fought the infection, that his magic developed to protect him, but Hermione hated that it left him so vulnerable.
They couldn’t send him to Molly’s, the Burrow always bustling with activity, and staying at home wasn’t exactly an option either even with the new house, since the twins were toddlering around, still too small to show true consideration.
Harry couldn’t bring Herbert to Mungos, so coming with her to the Ministry had seemed like a logical conclusion, if only it wasn’t so distracting.
“Sorry.” Malfoy sighed, “I’ll attempt to watch the attitude. Now, do we like it or not?”
“It’s perfect.”
Hermione felt bad, really bad. It was Percy who had accidentally discovered her mistake, and Hermione had panicked.
Luckly, Malfoy had answered her firecall immediately. He had agreed to take her on as an emergency client, the gala happening that friday, there was just one little issue. Astoria was apparently out for the day, which meant he had had no choice but to bring Scorpius with him, the two of them supposed to spend the early afternoon together.
She would have told him it was fine, that he hadn’t needed to come help her, but she didn’t trust anyone else the way she trusted him, not when it came to constructing the image of Hermione Granger the Minister.
The magazines hadn’t exactly been kind about her appearance pre or post having her twins.
Hermione really wanted not to care, but she also didn’t want to give those gossip rags any more ammunition than absolutely necessary, and showing up to a gala in the wrong clothes was a surefire way to do just that.
“Good, we just need to prick the trim, and then we’re out of here.” Malfoy patted his pockets. “Scorpius, get your things, we’re leaving.”
“I promise I’ll be quick.” Hermione watched as Malfoy produced several options, a gold lace already jumping out at her.
“I’ll believe that when I see it Granger. Scorpius, are you getting your things?” Malfoy waited, no reply coming, and he stood up, looking around. “… Scorpius?”
Hermione looked around her outer office too, dread filling her body as she couldn’t see him anywhere, his toys left abandoned on the table.
“Where-“
“The doors are sealed,” Hermione drew her wand, the costume not mattering at all, “He has to be here, he-“
Hermione turned towards her inner office, remembering that she had left it ajar.
“Herbert-“
“Scorpius-“
They both rushed forward, practically banging into each other as they both reached for the door at the same time, pushing into Hermione’s inner office, the two of them stopping in their tracks at the exact same time, shoulder smashed against shoulder.
Scorpius and Herbert were sitting together, Scorpius on the floor while Herbert was on the sofa, the two of them deeply engrossed in conversation, neither noticing the two adults who had just barged into the room.
“Well let the kelpies take me.” Malfoy took a step forward before crossing his arms, disbelief radiating from him. “They’re… Talking.”
“I know.” Hermione blinked, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“Scorpius is usually shy.”
“Herbert is usually shyer, he never…”
Herbert didn’t like other kids, didn’t like them on the playground, didn’t like them at the library, her son prefering to play by himself even if his cousins were around.
This felt like a miracle.
A straight up miracle, and Ron was going to kill her for what she was about to do.
“Will Scorpius be available for a playdate? Sooner, rather than later? Please?”