Bitter Chocolate - (A 'Veronica Weasley' sequel) || Draco Malfoy

53 - Six and a Half Million

Scorp was over the moon with his little sister; constantly bringing her drawings and, once she was allowed out of her incubator, lovingly planting kisses on the top of her head of strawberry blond hair.

Two months after her birth, both Freida and I were allowed to go home. Something that I was suddenly terrified about; despite having been desperate to get out of the confines of the hospital.

"It'll be okay, I promise you," Draco murmured reassuringly in my ear as he helped me out of the bed and into my clothes. "Scorp and I finally get our girls home. You know we'll look after you; we love you so much."

My illness was still a dark cloud above our heads. I was forever in and out of hospital having test after test whilst they tried to work out what this virus was that was slowly seeming to kill me.

And then finally, just as Freida turned six months of age, we got some answers.

"China?" I spluttered at the Healer across the desk from me, "but that was six years ago! And if it is so common, how come you've only just discovered what I have?"

"Most people that catch this virus have almost little to no symptoms," the Healer explained. "We had no reason to think it was the same one. However, a doctor in China who has been helping us with our research on your condition, recognised your symptoms as being extremely similar to five unfortunate cases regarding this virus."

"Unfortunate?" Draco frowned, squeezing my hand tightly.

"In all five cases, the virus latched on and irreversibly attacked the patient's immune system." The Healer took a deep breath, looking between Draco and I before he continued. "You do understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

"How long?" I asked, thinking only of my children at home. "I mean, it's already been six years since I supposedly caught it, and apart from a hairbreadth escape during the pregnancy; I'm still standing. So how long, exactly do I supposedly have left?"

"I'm afraid the speed and duration in the five other cases vastly differed. One patient lasted fifteen years with the virus whereas the other didn't even see out the first year. It would mean any prediction would be too inaccurate to make."

"But Ronnie is still young and fit," Draco said fiercely, "surely that's on her side? What were the ages of these other cases?"

"Mr Malfoy, I would have agreed with you that yes, age and fitness has helped Miss Weasley survive this long, but I'm afraid the pregnancy greatly weakened her. My advice to you would be to go home and make the most of your time together."

I stared ahead numbly as Draco jumped to his feet, leaning over the desk to angrily thrust his face into the Healer's.

"You are talking like this is it!" He bellowed. "Why are you not out there trying to find a cure?"

"Draco, please," I implored, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down to his seat,

"Believe me, we are, Mr Malfoy," The Healer said calmly, yet firmly. "But at this time we can only offer trials. Unfortunately though, the expense to run these are phenomenal, never mind time consuming, which is something Miss Weasley may have little left of."

I felt sick, as if someone had just punched me in the stomach.

"How much gold do you need?" Draco said at once, ignoring the last part as he clearly tried desperately to latch onto something. "We'll pay anything, we'll find the gold somehow."

"I don't want to give you false hope." The Healer sighed sadly. "As I said, these trials are highly costly, and the odds of successful treatment are extremely low. And aside from the financial difficulty, you could also end up wasting valuable time together just for a very slim chance at getting a longer life. Would you really want to put yourselves and your children through that?"

"Just tell me about these god damn trials!" Draco roared, the colour in his cheeks rising in his fury.

The Healer sighed heavily. "Very well, at the moment, for this particular illness, there is just one specialist currently looking into running a trial over in Canada."

"Canada? So we need to get Ronnie to Canada?" Draco said, straightening up in a determined manner. "We can do that. Let this specialist person know we'll be on our way. How much gold does he need to run the trial?"

The Healer swallowed, before taking a deep breath. "Six and a half million galleons."

Of course it fucking was. I was already getting to my feet at this point. I'd heard enough.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Draco spat, remaining seated as he glared furiously at the exasperated Healer.

"Draco, let's go home," I sighed exhaustedly. "I'm tired and I just want to be with the kids."

I'd only been out of hospital for four months and I felt that I had barely seen them due to my constant string of Healers appointments where I had been endlessly poked and prodded.

All of that time wasted not being with my children just to be fucking told I was going to die anyway.

"We'll get the gold, Ronnie," Draco said defiantly in bed that night as I wept in his arms. "I'm not going to give up on you."

"Please, Draco," I begged, "let's just make the most of the time we have left together."

"But I can't lose you," he choked. "Don't you get it, Ronnie? I just can't fucking lose you."

Freida started crying from her nursery at that point, and I felt Draco momentarily still beneath me.

"I'll go," I said, desperate to hold her in my arms anyway. It's all I wanted to do now; have Scorp, Freida and myself snuggled up in Draco's arms.

But when I brought her back to bed so that we could cuddle up together as I fed her, Draco had already turned the light off and rolled over asleep.

I tried not to feel hurt by this, recalling how he'd loved to watch me when I used to feed Scorp. But we were all exhausted these days, I reasoned. Draco had been busy attending all appointments with me, organising childcare and working the business. He had been juggling so much to try and keep life running smoothly for us so it was no wonder he was so tired.

I crept back out, letting him sleep whilst I fed Freida in the spare bedroom, and tried not to think about how terrified I actually was.

*****

"This is all my fault." George said, his face going a sickly white.

"How exactly did you come to that conclusion?" I asked. "If I remember rightly, I was going traveling with or without you."

"But perhaps I should have stopped you; encouraged you not to go. But no, instead I decided to fucking join you!" His face crumpled. "Oh god, Ronnie, I can't lose you as well. Please, no."

"I could live for many years still," I said, trying to keep things light, despite feeling that I'd swallowed a lead weight. "We've all got to die eventually, George. Hey - I might even outlive you!"

Mum and Dad were the same; constantly crying and holding me. I couldn't fucking stand it. I suddenly hated being around people; the pity on their faces was too much.

All I wanted to do was stay at home with Draco and the kids.

I was ready to just give up and die.

But it seemed Draco had other ideas.

And I underestimated just how much he wanted me to live.

*****