Author's Note - First and foremost I'd like to thank the tireless reviewers who continually badgered me for the next chapter of Pieces. Here it is.
However, in the time since I last updated, I have finished the companion fic to this. It bridges Cut and Pieces, though it takes place between Snape, Narcissa and Lucius before Draco is born in 1980 and contains NO D/G. It is NC17, and has some warnings. I'd suggest you read it if you want to understand the background of some of the information I am about to present in this chapter. Because I couldn't fit the entire thing into one LiveJournal entry, you can visit the first part here and the end here. It is called Everything I Wanted. I'm very proud of it, and I sure would like for you to leave some reviews on my HP fanfic LJ.
Also, many thanks to Where_Is_Truth, my tireless plot-bouncer-offer. Here's her LiveJournal where you can read some excellent NC17 fic that isn't posted here. If you have a LJ, feel free to friend me. It's a good way to get updates about what I'm doing. And I LOVE comments! If you haven't already, don't forget to sign up for my author/chapter alerts here on PK.
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After spending his first weary night alone at Malfoy Manor, his next order of business was to visit his mother. He knew only that she was awake and alert, and of all things had sent a thank-you card to that thick-headed brother of Ginny's.
Ginny. His mother didn't know about her. What would she say, in her newly-recovered state, about his love? That was part and parcel of his trip today, the urge to reveal his emotions to the one woman who had always believed in and loved him.
Tiredly, Draco stepped out of his bedchamber and nearly smacked into one of the Aurors who had flooded the Manor. They were systematically checking for spells that could have shipped off Ginny, but so far, as he understood, there were a lot of nasty wards and old spells guarding portions of the Manor he hadn't even known existed.
Descending the stairs, he found his cousin Nymphadora sporting a frighteningly orange mop of hair.
"Where are you going?" she queried.
"To see Mother," he said stiffly, unused to relating his affairs to anyone other than himself.
"Don't be gone too long," she said. "I think they need you before they can go into your father's study. Apparently they think only you or your mother can break the ward on the door."
"My mother is in no condition to cooperate with this investigation," Draco retorted hotly. "She's just come out from under years of a torturous spell and you want to make her work?"
Tonks stepped up to her much taller cousin and poked a finger roughly into his sternum.
"Listen here," she snapped, punctuating with repeated stabs of her fingertip. "I'm just telling you what my co-workers told me, okay? It's not my fault you had a scheming bastard of a father who thought nothing of driving his wife crazy and trying to make his son the next leader of the Death Eaters. So fuck off and do what I say when I say and we'll get this thing taken care of and Ginny back where she belongs. Understand?"
"Fine," Draco snapped back. "Just so you understand this is my house now and once this is over I'll thank you to get the hell out of here and go back to your Muggle-loving squalor."
Her shocked face pinked as he waved his wand and Disapparated.
***
"I'm here to see Narcissa Malfoy," Draco told the charmed, unobtrusive entrance to St. Mungo's. It shimmered and admitted him, and he took the lift up to the Mental Maladies ward. As he approached his mother's private room, he heard soft voices from within. Brightening, he quickened his steps. He had hoped to catch one of the mediwizards and hear her updated diagnosis.
No one could have prepared him for the tableau spread before him. His mother, pale but animated, was smiling broadly at Severus Snape, who held her delicate hand in his and was in the act of brushing a kiss on it.
His first conversation with his mother in several years began somewhat crudely.
"What the fuck?"
***
"Ginny, it's time to wake up," her roommate Lauren said softly, shaking her shoulder.
Attempting to acknowledge Lauren was harder than Ginny thought it would be. She was so bone weary her eyes were definitely not cooperating on the opening idea, eye crusties not withstanding.
"We go to be interviewed today," Lauren said, sitting down and bouncing softly on Ginny's lower bunk. "Come on, you promised I could braid your hair."
For the first time in the three weeks and two days she had been in the United States, Ginny managed a genuine smile and made a concerted effort to speak clearly.
"I did promise. Let me get a shower and you can help me," Ginny said, yawning and stretching.
Lauren nodded and went to gather her own shower accessories, and Ginny escaped her bunk without hitting her head. Padding softly over to her bathrobe and shower basket, Ginny followed Lauren out the door with the cavalcade of women who were also beginning their day in the Orange County Women's Refuge.
While at the hospital, she'd been poked, prodded, and examined in every way possible. It became a laughable routine, every other day, when the doctor assigned to her case came into her room and tried to pry information out of her.
After her first demoralizing and terrifying day in the emergency room, she'd been transferred to the psychiatric ward after she was pronounced in good health. It was quiet there, and she liked it, relatively speaking, except for when sedated patients were wheeled past her door. Looking at all the blank, unresponsive faces chilled her.
Dr. Magee, a kindly, large woman in her late fifties, was in charge of determining Ginny Weasley's exact diagnosis. After thirteen days of endless tests, Dr. Magee determined that Ms. Weasley had no mental deficiencies, no brain damage, and nothing that should have impeded her body's processes. The girl was adamant that she could not remember her home address, the city she hailed from in Britain or any other pertinent information that might have aided in returning her home.
The general consensus was that Ginny Weasley was suffering from hysterical amnesia, a form of the condition that was usually temporary and induced by a massive emotional or physical trauma. And until that amnesia receded, there was nothing more that could be done for her at the hospital.
Thus she was bundled off with new clothes and toiletries to the rather institutional Orange County Women's Refuge. As Ginny learned from her roommate, Lauren Martin (herself a young mother and recovering alcoholic), the Refuge was called a halfway house, and the inhabitants were sent there to learn life and job skills that would aide them in returning to normal life. Ginny was to remain there until her wits returned or someone reported her missing.
In fact, many of the young ladies were in situations similar to Lauren's, and were working hard to go back home, or to see their children. The atmosphere was generally cheery, in contrast to Lauren's dark depiction of the women's prison in which she had been incarcerated previously.
Today was a big day for eight women, including Ginny and Lauren. After they were made presentable, they were going to interview with the human resources staff at the very place Ginny had made her ignominious entrance into the Muggle world. Walt Disney World needed some menial workers and decided hiring from the Refuge was just the thing to help boost their local image. Excited Refuge workers had plucked the eight based on their education and level of rehabilitation, save for Ginny. Ginny was under the distinct impression she'd been chosen because her British accent in this harsh-spoken world made her seem a bit posh.
Whatever it was, Ginny was interested to see this "magical" place.
***
"Draco, er, I," Snape stammered, marking one of the few times Draco recalled Snape calling him by his first name and certainly the first time the man had stuttered.
"Draco, love!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Come here and let me hug you!"
Rooted to the spot, Draco merely stared at them. His mother turned stern.
"Come here," she commanded, and it was shaded just enough with tones he remembered her using when he'd been a boy that it made him walk forward. She held out thin arms and wrapped them around her son's tall frame.
"My Sun Prince," she whispered in his ear. "I'm so proud of you for standing up to Lucius."
Still a bit bewildered, he disengaged himself from his mother's arms and suddenly became very protective of his frail mum.
"Professor," Draco stated clearly, though his mind was muddied, "what are you doing here?"
Narcissa Malfoy could see the cold barrier coming up in her son and swatted at his hand.
"Sit down, Draco, and for Merlin's sake quit acting like Severus was mauling me," Narcissa drawled, instinctively knowing why her son appeared so miffed.
"Draco," Snape began, purposely refraining from calling him Mr. Malfoy, as in this situation it reminded him uncomfortably of Lucius.
Narcissa waved an elegant hand dismissively. "Let me, Severus, please. I've a dearth of words to make up for, and I'd appreciate it if you'd allow me to explain."
Snape nodded silently and Draco was secretly awed by his mother's bravado. He'd never seen the fearsome potions master quieted so effectively.
"I want to thank you, Draco, for visiting me when I could not reply. One of the effects of this particular spell your father cast was that I was fully aware of my surroundings but had to endure in silence. I appreciate you reading the society section of the Prophet to me all those many times."
"I'm so sorry that I couldn't be there for you, but I've been able to follow your progress, thanks to Severus. You see," Narcissa said, her voice lowering and a warm smile gracing her lips, "Severus brought me a Pensieve full of your Quidditch games and perfect Potions exams. I saw your Head Boy badge before you did and got to see you graduate."
Draco cocked an eyebrow in his professor's direction but Snape had turned away toward the window, as if he couldn't bear to face this earnestly spoken praise.
"Don't worry, Draco, Severus had no idea I knew he was here either. But just as you did, he continued to visit me. Consequently, I am fully aware of what happened at the Manor some weeks ago."
Draco bowed his head in shame, his mother's plainly spoken acknowledgement of his patricide hanging in the air.