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This is a sad fic, and had the trigger warnings of miscarriage ahead. Yes, this is mpreg as well.

This is part of a Tumblr askdaddydraco and part of The Star Child Universe.

Summary: Ron, four months pregnant with twins, wakes up in the middle of the night and sees his bed is cold and empty. Where is Blaise, who is also four months pregnant? Why isn't he in bed?

Celine

Ron shifted in his sleep, uncomfortable by the larger stomach he was now sporting and he now has his own Fred and George inside of him, punching inside his guts and kicking his bladder and making his body ache. However, Ron soon found himself awake when his arm was thrown over and it landed on cold bedsheets. He opened his eyes and in the barest moment of awareness, he heard a groan. He opened his eyes, sitting up and looking for any sign of life, only to see the bathroom door closed but light peaking out behind it. "Blaise?" Ron sat up some more, feeling his back crack into place.

Ron could hear a gasp and a strained voice, "I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

The red-haired male swung his legs on the side, and with a huff he stood up, trying to keep balance. At four months along, he felt like a bloated pig ready to burst and he was already able to feel movement (or so he claims) and he turned on the lamplight. "Blaise? You okay?" Ron asked as he began to walk over, not hearing anything in a few minutes. He leaned against the door, knocking when he hadn't heard a response.

"Ron I'm busy!" Blaise voice could be heard again, but there was a panic laced in his voice. The Gryffindor alumni sighed, "Blaise if you need a laxative, it's in the cabinet."

"...okay thanks. Go back to bed!" Ron was was nearly sleepy enough to mindlessly obey. Though as he turned his head, he heard a sudden gasp escape Blaise and Ron quickly tried to open the door, finding it locked. "Blaise! Blaise! Open up! Please! I'm worried about you!" It only just hit Ron about how Blaise was also pregnant. The other seemed so well-put-together in appearances and had been taking care of everything, but who had been watching out for him?! Ron looked around and saw his wand on the nightstand. He reached over for it and soon unlocked the door with "alolamora!"

Ron opened the door, much to his fear he saw Blaise laying in the bathtub, no water, but he looked pale in the face and covered in sweat, as though he had been there for hours. His night pants complete drenched in blood and the look of horror etched in his dark brown eyes as he saw Ron standing at the door. The Slytherin looked as though he had run a marathon with all the sweat pouring off his face and his shirt was completely drenched. Blaise took sharp breathes as he tried to ride out the pain. Blaise was speechless at the moment, trying to hide his pain but when a painful wave hit his stomach, he covered his mouth, looking like he was trying to keep vile sick down. "Don't get close!" Blaise stopped Ron, holding a hand out to keep Ron at a distance, "I'm might give you the same illness I have," He said.

Ron looked around, wanting to help Blaise and while he could see it was not an illness, he knew he had to hold in some way. He looked over and saw a clean town hanging on the towel rack. He grabbed it, and began approaching Blaise, "Blaise...is going to help you," he said as softly as he could. Blaise shook his head, "no. I'm fine. I'm just sick."

"Blaise," Ron spoke sternly. The Slytherin looked very weak at that moment. He looked into Ron's sky-blue eyes. The man nodded softly up to him, and put the towel over Blaise's front and folded it in half, revealing the stain pants still. Ron soon unbuckled the pants, seeing the imprint that they had made on Blaise's flesh from how tight they were on home and lowered them. Until they were removed from his body. Next was the boxers, and no amount of magic would be enough to remove the deep red stains that soaked the boxers. Just before Ron could remove them, Blaise moved his hand to hold Ron's wrist. "Don't." Blaise panted, his throat feeling dry, "I can't...I don't want to lose her," he panted. Blaise has imagined his baby being a girl, a daughter he always wanted. One with braided pigtails and soft brown skin and beautiful hazel eyes and someone able to get freckles on her face. He didn't want to lose his baby.

Ron could see how much fighting Blaise was trying to do in order to not lose their baby, but as much as he could sympathize, he knew Blaise was only making it worse for himself. "Blaise," Ron said gently, "you have to breathe," he reminded him softly.

Blaise shook his head weakly, tears mixing with sweat on his cheeks. Ron was firm though as he let Blaise squeeze his wrist. "Blaise!" He spoke up louder to be heard by the other. "Breathe!"

The other tried to steady he breathe, taking a few more attempts but finally managed to steady his breathing by taking a few larger gulps of air, relaxing his tense body a bit. "I don't want to lose her Ron," Blaise admitted to the redhead. Ron leaned down and kissed Blaise's forehead, "Shh...it'll be over soon enough," he said. While Ron was the one to usually freak out, he couldn't because Blaise needed him. The redhead pulled the boxers down and Ron could see a makeshift opening. That alone would cause a huge amount of pain. An opening between his sac and anus and one made out of a need to expel...

Ron looked back at Blaise and gave him a soft note of reassurance, "you have to push Blaise."

"What?! No! I don't want to! I'll lose her! No! Ron please!"

"Blaise, you have to push."

The male finally complied and sat up, spreading his legs as much as he could in the bathtub and with Ron's support, he began pushing.

A few moments later, something the size of a palm came out of Blaise's opening. Ron looked over and saw covered in blood was their baby, perfectly formed but so small and with an umbilical cord still attached to what looked like a sac. The red-haired male knew there was no hope of saving the baby. She had died. He let go of Blaise's hand, and picked the body up gently with both hand, along with the sac, and placed her on the towel that rested on Blaise's chest.

This broke Blaise as be began sobbing, clearly upset over this miscarriage as he had every right to be. He had wanted this baby so much.

Ron got up and picked up the towel and the baby, he couldn't use fetus in good conscience as that word held no emotional attachment to it and it would clearly upset his partner, walking over to the bedroom. Earlier that day, Blaise had gotten a small jewelry body from his mother as a future gift for the expectant granddaughter. Ron grabbed his wand from his bed, having tossed it back when he had opened the door just minutes ago, and transformed the jewelry box into a tiny coffin. He wouldn't lay the baby in it yet and placed her body on the dresser and turned to his love.

Blaise was in no condition to take care of himself, and so Ron went over and would help him as best as he could. "Are you in pain?" He asked worried as he noticed the blood still leaking from Blaise's new opening. He nodded, shaking. Ron new Blaise needed to see a mediwitch. The Gryffindor offered his hand to Blaise, and the man hesitated for a moment before he was helped up. It never occurred to Ron that this was the first time he had ever seen Blaise so weak before. The Slytherin always held an air about him that was refined and dignified, even through the pregnancy, he had been doing well in keeping up appearances. Ron has never seen Blaise look so normal before, so human. "Easy mate," Ron helped Blaise step out of the tub and in a moment of quick thinking, Ron grabbed Blaise's black robe and held him remove his shirt. Blaise needed a shower without a doubt, but he needed a moment to breathe and cry. Ron held Blaise's hand, guiding the slumped over man back to the bedroom. Just as he was leading the aching male to bed, Blaise stopped and looked over at the dresser. "I wanna see her," he said in a quiet voice. Ron helped Blaise sit down at the edge of the bed, and walked over and gingerly picked up the towel with the baby on it. Ron hesitated, he looked over his shoulder, "are you sure?"

"Yes," Blaise answered sternly.

Ron turned and walked back to Blaise, showing him the remains and still a perfectly intact baby. She was about the size of his middle finger and pale, no pigment on her skin. Blaise took her into his bare hands. He wept. Ron sat down next to Blaise, letting the other mourn. Ron felt a loss as well, but Blaise needed to let out his emotions now and not try to hold back. Blaise leaned against Ron, still holding the baby in his hands. "I tried to be strong...for her...and I still lost her."

Ron wrapped a hand around Blaise, holding him close. "I know. You did all that you could," Ron said. "But there is something you still need to do."

Blaise knew what Ron meant. A name. She needed a name.

"Celine," Blaise stated softly. "Celine Esme Weasley."

Ron was surprised that Blaise was giving her his last name. Ron turned his head, kissing Blaise's cheek, "A beautiful name for a beautiful baby," he assured him. Blaise squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down like a waterfall. Ron only held him close that night, only calling a mediwitch as soon as dawn broke the sky and when Blaise was sleep finally, informing them of the miscarriage. When the sun finally rose, Blaise was being taken to St. Mungos for a proper examination, taking the baby with them inside of her tiny coffin.