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Edward Carmichael knew patients’ family members struggled to admit that they could no longer properly care for their permanently spell-damaged loved ones.
Eddie knew this.
After all, he had been working on the Janus Thickey Ward for ten years. He was considered the best Mind Healer working on hopeless cases. His patients were happy and well-adjusted for the fact that they would never see the outside world again. Granted, the Longbottoms still didn’t speak, and the Droobles wrapper thing was odd—but no odder than most other patients' actions on the ward.
However, as far as patients’ loved ones went, Draco Malfoy was a truly dramatic wanker.
Hadn’t there been something about a hippogriff in Eddie’s Fourth Year?
“The private Mind Healer from Paris recommended that we surround her with familiar smells since olfactory recall is the strongest and most likely to bring back her memories.”
Eddie nodded obligingly. If Narcissa Black Malfoy had made it to this ward, there was no bringing back her memories. Nevertheless, he accepted the bottle of perfume from the agitated, tall, blond man.
“Don’t tell her it's Muggle, though. She’s back to her Blood-Prejudice memories—she’s not like that anymore, not really, I swear—and she might forget that this is the one of the most exclusive perfumeries in the world, magical or Muggle.”
Eddie repressed his snort. Malfoy’s wife rolled her eyes.
“Just, make sure she wears it every day.”
Though Eddie restrained his own eye roll, admittedly, the scent did help his patient’s well-being. A few moments after she sprayed the perfume on her wrists, she visibly relaxed. More importantly—as Eddie would later realise—Gilderoy Lockhart wandered over as if a thestral drawn by fresh meat.
“What is that divine scent?”
Startled, Narcissa looked up to see Witch Weekly’s Most Bewitching Smile trained upon her.
Eddie shook his head to see Narcissa go as googly-eyed as any of Eddie’s female classmates ever had.
She held the perfume out to Gilderoy to inspect.
He took the bottle and examined it. “Narcisse Noir. Black narcissus.” His eyes went wide and he looked at Eddie eagerly. “I speak French!”
Eddie patted Gilderoy comfortingly. “You do. It’s lovely you remember some.”
“That’s my name,” Narcissa murmured.
“What’s that?” Gilderoy asked.
“Narcissa Black.” She straightened. “The perfume was clearly named for me.”
Gilderoy nodded eagerly. “Of course. A beautiful scent would be named after a beautiful woman. And Narcissa for Narcissus. Do you know, that’s my favourite story? Doesn’t that seem such a lovely way to die—gazing at your own reflection? Once, someone came in and told me that I was the biggest narcissist he had ever met. Wasn’t that a lovely thing for him to say?”
Eddie rolled his lips and turned away.
Draco Malfoy came bursting out of the doors of the ward.
Eddie stood next to the welcome desk looking over his charts for the day.
“I told you to keep her away from mirrors! We never would have brought her here at all if she had not broken every mirror in the manor because she didn’t recognize her own face. She still thinks she’s seventeen.”
Eddie cocked his head. “Did you find her distressed?”
Malfoy opened his mouth then clacked it shut.
Malfoy’s ever long-suffering wife, who seemed to think Malfoy was as ridiculous as Eddie did, replied, “No, actually, she seems quite happy.”
Eddie’s mouth curled up as he remembered the first time he had found Narcissa gazing into a mirror.
Gilderoy had brought his large hand mirror (the biggest one Eddie had ever seen) over to Narcissa. “Let’s be Narcissists together.” He had plunked down next to Narcissa on the bed and held the mirror aloft.
Narcissa turned her face away and held her hand up to block her view of the mirror. “That’s not my face. There are so many lines.”
Gilderoy held the mirror higher. “Lines? Lines? I have lines too, yet everyone sends me letters about how beautiful my smile is.”
He turned that smile upon Narcissa, and she seemed to melt a little.
“Isn’t it?”
Narcissa breathed, “Yes.”
“Look,” Gilderoy persisted, turning back to the mirror.
Narcissa turned, too, cautiously.
“We both have blond hair,” Gilderoy continued. “Mine golden, yours platinum. The colours of decoration, of jewelry, of—”
“Wealth,” Narcissa continued.
Gilderoy’s smile widened. “Yes, wealth. I feel terrible for brunettes and redheads, don’t you? Their hair colours are likened to bronze and copper.”
“Brass,” Narcissa added with a moue of disgust.
Gilderoy shuddered. “Dear Circe, could you imagine? They’re such base metals.”
Narcissa nodded and shuddered in turn. “Utilitarian.”
Gilderoy looked back in the mirror. “Not us. We are the lucky ones.”
They gazed lovingly into the mirror for a moment before Narcissa said, “We both have blue eyes.”
“We do, don’t we?” Gilderoy asked with delight. “Mine are cornflower blue and yours are, why, the colour of the sky.” He sighed. “I miss the sky.”
“You can stare at my eyes, then,” Narcissa said.
“I can,” Gilderoy answered, his delight returning.
They returned their attention to the mirror.
From then on, they met every day to regard themselves in the mirror and point out each’s beauty to the other: the cleft in Gilderoy’s chin, the aquiline straightness of Narcissa’s nose, the arch of Gilderoy’s brows, or the perfectly placed freckle to highlight Narcissa’s eyes.
Eddie had leaned over the receptionist desk to chat (flirt) with Susan Bones when Draco Malfoy burst out of the ward. His wife came trailing after him, biting the amusement from her lips.
“That absolute charlatan is practically holding hands with my mother.”
Eddie furrowed his brow. That was a new development. He went to the ward door and peered through the window. He turned back to Malfoy in consternation. “No, it’s simply Crafts Hour. Your mother has been helping Gilderoy with his.”
“My mother would never do something so plebeian as ‘crafts.’”
Again, Malfoy’s wife just rolled her eyes behind him. Eddie also noticed her surreptitiously stuffing one of Gilderoy’s signed photos into her handbag.
Eddie returned his attention to Malfoy. “She did not take to the activity at first, true. But once Healer Clearwater asked Narcissa about calligraphy, she embraced the hour with delight. Gilderoy has been looking to improve his cursive for some years, and your mother has done wonders for his handwriting. She’s really a brilliant teacher.”
Malfoy thrust his hands through his hair. “Do they have to be so handsy, though?”
“She does need to help guide his hands,” Eddie said.
Malfoy’s wife threaded her arm through his. “She looked happy, Draco. Don’t you want her to be happy?”
Malfoy growled but let his wife drag him from the ward.
Eddie had finally managed to secure a date with Susan when the doors to the ward flew open and Draco Malfoy—a seemingly petrified Draco Malfoy—floated through the doors. Malfoy’s wife, clearly the impetus for both the petrification and the levitation, followed behind him with her wand lifted. She gave a tremendous sigh, lowered her husband to the floor, cast some spell at the doors to the ward, and seemed to cast a finite at her husband.
Immediately, the man began to yell.
“Gilderoy Lockhart is fucking my mother!”
Eddie sighed, flapped his chart closed, rolled his eyes at Susan, and turned to Malfoy. “Yes, they do that relatively frequently. Don’t worry, we’ve added the contraception potion to her daily routine.”
“Contraception potion?” Malfoy repeated in a strangled voice.
Eddie nodded. “I know, many people might expect that they’re a bit old for a baby, but perimenopause is one of the most dangerous times for an ‘oopsie’ pregnancy."
Malfoy mouthed noiselessly for another moment or two before finally continuing, “Aside from the chilling consequences that you are thankfully handling, do you not see any other problems with this situation?”
Eddie grimaced. “It didn’t disturb the Longbottoms, I hope. Frank used to be an Auror and sometimes confuses the screams of fun for screams of pain. He tries to rescue your mother, then, and that gets quite messy.”
Malfoy’s mouth hung open, but his wife was clearly restraining her laughter.
Finally, Malfoy took a large breath in through his nose and gritted out, “You mean to tell me you are aware of and condone Gilderoy Lockhart, only the most blowhard fraud to ever exist, raping my mother?”
Eddie had had enough of Draco Malfoy. “There is no rape between consenting adults! Did she seem like she wasn’t enjoying herself?”
“How can she consent when she doesn’t know who she is!” Malfoy yelled.
Eddie snapped. “No, she doesn’t know who she was. She is very aware of who she is: Narcissa Black, permanent resident of the Janus Thickey ward, girlfriend of Gilderoy Lockhart.” Eddie drew himself up to his full 5’10”, still two inches less than the blond wanker who was glaring at him. “This is her life now, Mr. Malfoy. It is time you accept that. She has. And I think it would be cruel to deny her the least bit of happiness she can find on the Janus Thickey Ward just because she doesn’t have the memories you want her to have.”
Malfoy’s nostril flared. “And what am I supposed to tell my father?”
A loud snort interrupted Malfoy’s tantrum.
He turned toward his wife who was rubbing her hands over her large belly that signalled it wouldn’t be long until she was in St. Mungo’s herself.
“Granger!” Malfoy gasped.
Hermione Granger-Malfoy wiped at her streaming eyes as she continued to choke over her laughter. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just been so long since I have heard, ‘Just wait until my father hears about this!’” She composed herself and added seriously, “Draco, I love you, but you are every bit as dramatic as you were in Third Year. And, frankly, Lucius is serving a life sentence in Azkaban. Who cares what he thinks? Not you. Otherwise, you wouldn't be the father to a Half-Blood child.”
Malfoy gaped then snapped his mouth shut. He murmured, “It was supposed to be me. That package from Mrs. Greengrass was meant for me.”
Mrs. Granger-Malfoy rushed forward and hugged her husband. “And I know your mother: if she could remember, she wouldn’t regret that she was the one who picked it up and not you. She would always make sure you were the one who got to live a full life.”
Eddie ground his jaw. “She is living a full life. She’s happy: she has hobbies, friends, a boyfriend, a sex life that puts mine to shame.” He drew in a patient breath. “This is her life now. There is nothing beyond these walls for her. But inside these walls, she’s in love. And that’s a good thing.”
Malfoy’s mouth twitched miserably, but he nodded.
Four Years Later
“This is so disturbing,” Draco Malfoy said.
“Oh, I think it’s rather adorable,” his wife replied.
“Granger, you think everything that man does is adorable. I would have expected you to have more wherewithal than your thirteen-year-old self. And how the bloody hell did Lockhart obtain an even larger hand mirror?”
Eddie answered, “Special order. Your mother gifted it to him for his birthday.”
“Wonderful,” Malfoy groused.
The three of them looked on as little Scorpius Malfoy put his finger up to the mirror and said, “We both have curls.”
“We do!” Gilderoy answered. “When you get a little older, I will teach you the routine to have them lay as smooth and beautiful as mine. Whoever does your hair now should be relieved of their duties. They obviously have no idea how to manage curly hair.”
Malfoy smirked. “Adorable, is he?”
Hermione Granger-Malfoy huffed.
“What else do you see?” Gilderoy encouraged.
Scorpius lifted his pointer finger to the mirror again. “Me and Nana—”
Narcissa corrected, “Nana and I.”
Scorpius furrowed his brow and began again, “Nana and I have the same colour hair.”
“You do!” Gilderoy said with delight. “Do you remember the name of the colour?”
“Platimum.”
Narcissa enunciated slowly, “Plat-i-num.”
“Plat-i-num,” Scorpius repeated carefully.
“Yes, indeed, a beautiful metal. You are very fortunate to have inherited your Nana’s hair and not your mummy’s. Her hair is only a very utilitarian bronze.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Hermione Granger-Malfoy muttered.
Malfoy snickered.
Eddie turned away from the happy family and pulled out a packet of Droobles for his next patients. Their granddaughter was visiting that day, and Alice would be sure to want to give little Peony a wrapper.
Eddie smiled. Under his watchful care, the Janus Thickey Ward had become a joyous place.