Prolouge: The Easiest Choice to Make
Title: A Face I Almost Knew
Disclaimer: JK owns them, can I help it if I treat them a bit better?
Spoilers: OotP, AU Books 6 & 7
Summary: That face is one she should never know, never wanted to know. It was just too risky to know it.
A/N: Sequel/expansion/continuance of Live Another Lie
(part of 22 for 22
) A Face I Almost Knew
Prolouge: The Easiest Choice to Make
Millicent had known the moment her daughter was born that she couldn’t give the baby the life it deserved. She couldn’t be a mother when she’d never really had one herself. She had known this long before she’d even considered having children.
Given who the father’s child was had also driven the fact home that there was no way she was raising this child. After all the months of secrecy and planning, it was hard to believe it was all over. She’d return to Hogwarts for the end of her seventh year as if her pregnancy had never happened.
Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall would back the story that she’d contracted some odd Muggle illness that was highly contagious and had been placed in a special section of the grounds so as not to infect other students. Millicent almost laughed at that. The head of Gryffidor house helping a silly Slytherin girl was a funny notion.
When Pomfrey had insisted her head of house be informed, Millicent had protested vehemently. Snape was one of the Dark Lord’s minions, everyone knew that. He’d demand to know the father’s name, and would of course report it back immediately to the Dark Lord. From there her father would be informed and he would willingly hand over the traitor’s child (and probably Millicent herself) to be slaughtered for such insubordination. And then they’d tell Draco he was a father and present him with the dead infant. So Millicent fought Pomfrey’s initial choice.
“Can’t you get an unbiased third party?” she’d yelled, her fists banging on the medi-witch’s desk. “I do not want my head of house or the father or my father informed of this. At all!”
“Well, child, who would you like me to inform?” Pomfrey had answered shrilly.
“You just need a bloody head of house and the headmaster to sign off on this! You don’t need my
head of house!”
The medi-witch had considered this and left her in the office only to return fifteen minutes later with Professor McGonagall. In all truth, Millicent had expected her to return with Professor Sprout. The kind-hearted herbology professor would have been a more likely candidate than the head of Gryffindor. She’d glared at the medi-witch, who only had one reply to that.
“You want few people to know of this joyous event? Well, then I’ve cut the number down. Deputy Headmistress and house head to boot.”
And that’s how the baby had been kept secret, how Millicent had been squirreled safely away until it was time to give birth. The small wriggling infant gave a lusty and hungry cry as the nurses cleaned her and warmed her. The medi-witch looked to Poppy Pomfrey who stood at the edge of the birthing room. Then came the question that Millicent had dreaded hearing.
“Would you like to see your daughter, dear?”
“I don’t have a daughter,” Millicent muttered, her eyes clamped shut so she couldn’t see the baby, couldn’t look for her face in the screaming infant’s. Couldn’t look for Draco’s face in her either. And if she couldn’t see her, no one could creep into her memories and find that tiny face.
Pomfrey nodded to the head medi-witch, who in turn signaled that the baby be given to Pomfrey. Then she’d be given to a new family who deserved to have a child but hadn’t been ‘blessed’ with their own. Millicent didn’t want to know their faces either. Too dangerous to them all if she did. She just wanted to rest now.
But somewhere across the hospital, a young wizarding couple waited nervously to meet their new child. Three years of potions, patience, and desperate trying hadn’t given them the child they wanted. Now, so poor woman who could not raise her child was giving them a chance to be the parents they craved to be. Martin and Andrea Belleisle were overcome when Madame Pomfrey brought the tiny bundle to them.
Wrapped in a pale pink blanket was a beautiful little blonde haired little girl, her dark green eyes shining up at them curiously. She was a blend of her mother and father, a perfect little creation. In time, her hair would darken to a golden brown, and her eyes lighten just a bit.
No one would expect that little Holly Anne Bellisle was the daughter of Draco Malfoy and Millicent Bulstrode unless they were standing in a row together. No one who had ever ventured into Madame Pomfrey’s office ever made mention of the familiar face of the little girl in the photo on her desk.