Ya'll are making me blush. Seriously. It feels good, so thank you all so much for your wonderful comments! It makes posting and writing so much more fun!

I present to you chapter nine – a.k.a. the third-last installment. It feels so close, too close. I must warn you: prepare to feel sad, to which I apologize in advance! I think this might be the saddest thing I've ever written. I don't know where it came from, or why I decided to use it, but here it is.

Enjoy :)


[Nine: The Blues]

January 5

Draco is awakened in the middle of the night by something tapping against his shoulder. He groans, trying sleepily to move away from it as he buries his face into his pillows.

"Draco..."

"Mmm."

"Draco!" The urgency in his wife's voice shocks him.

He opens his eyes to see her sitting up with her back against the headboard and her arm around wrapped protectively around her stomach. She looks distressed and disheveled and the fear in her eyes sobers him awake completely. "What? What is it? What's wrong?" he asks quickly, sitting up in the bed.

"Something's wrong," she moans.

"What? What's wrong?" he asks, reaching out to her. He places his hands gently on her shoulders.

"What is it?"

"I dunno – there's just – something's wrong with her..."

Her. Her. His eyes widen as he rushes to pull back the covers and his stomach plummets when he sees what's underneath. Blood. Everywhere. He panics, throwing himself out of the bed in a frantic search for his wand. "We have to get you to the hospital," he mutter urgently.

Fear – for the baby – grips him for a third time.

X

January 6

It's nearly midnight when her doorbell rings. She's sitting on the couch watching reruns of The Bachelor – not that she'd ever actually admit it out loud. Her first thought, as she stares at the door in confusion is: who would be ringing her doorbell at this time of the night? Her second, and perhaps most curious: who does she know would be ringing her doorbell?

The bell rings again – twice in row – signaling that whoever's on the other side is urgent. She turns off the television, pushing herself to her feet before walking towards the front door. She peers through the eyehole in the door, her chest tightening when her eyes settle on her visitor.

Draco.

What shocks her – and worries her – more than the fact that he is on her doorstep, ringing her doorbell, is his state of appearance. He looks quite disheveled, his hair everywhere, bags under his eyes, a sunken, sort of defeated look on his face. He's wearing a faded old long-sleeved shirt and a pair of dirty old sweat pants. He doesn't even look like himself.

She opens the door and the second the lock clicks, his gaze snaps up. She stares at him and he stares back, looking lost and confused. Heartbroken. "W-what are you doing here?" she asks softly.

He looks down at the floor briefly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Can I come in? Please?"

She nods slightly, stepping aside to let him in. He nods, once, slipping past her into the living room. He seems timid, nervous...scared. Lost. She closes the door behind him softly, turning to face him. She watches him hover in the middle of her living room, like he can't decide what he wants to do or say. "Draco..."

"She lost the baby..." he mutters, bringing his hands out of his pockets. He wraps his arms around his chest, keeping his back to her.

She blinks, caught off-guard. "What?"

He takes a deep, shaky breath as he turns to her, lifting his gaze. "She...welost the baby," he whispers.

"I...I'm so sorry," she whispers back awkwardly. She wants to reach out to him, to comfort him somehow.

"It was gonna be a girl," he murmurs shakily. "I didn't even know if I wanted her and now that I won't have her, I... I dunno what to do with myself. Astoria can't stop crying and I want to comfort her but I don't know how. I don't know how to tell her what I can't even tell myself," he mutters, his voice slurring as he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling.

He's been drinking, she realizes. Only then does she smell the firewhiskey on his breath. He only drinks like this when he's upset about something. The realization that he's so torn up about the loss of a baby he didn't want tugs at her heartstrings and makes her feel sick all at once. She bites her lip. "Draco, I...I dunno what to say-"

"Dammit, Granger!" he shouts, pushing his hands through his hair, growling in frustration. She winces, taking a step back as he begins to pace. "I should be with my wife – I should be there trying to comfort her but I can't because all I wanna do is be here." The word "here" comes out as a choked sob.

Her breath catches in her throat.

"I..." he trails off, swallowing the lump in his as he struggles to find the words in his head. "I wanna be with you. I wanna crawl into your bed and just...stay there forever – because I know you can fix it. And I know I should be with Astoria, trying to fix it but I dunno how..."

She watches him, with baited breath as he sits down on the couch, his head in his calloused hands. She wants to sit next to him, to brush her fingers through his hair, to stroke his face, to do something. But she can't find the strength to move her legs – to move at all, really.

"What am I supposed to say to her?" he mutters.

Her heart clenches and the breath she'd been holding tumbles out of her lips shakily. She shrugs awkwardly, though he can't see her, before whispering, "I don't know."

He looks up at her with sad, fearful, regretful eyes. "Sorry. I shouldn't be asking you that-"

"No – I – it's okay," she stutters quickly. "Just...I don't think there's anything you cansay, you know?"

He nods, rubbing his hands over the back of his neck.

"Go, Draco. Be with your wife," she whispers softly. "She needs you."

X

January 13

He doesn't go to work for a few days, taking the time off to relax and...mourn. She's wandered down to his floor to check every day, just to be sure, and every day the lights are off and his office is empty.

Today, however, he's there. He's sitting leaned back in his chair behind his desk. His face is a blank, pale slate, reflecting loss of sleep. In fact the bags under his eyes makes her wonder if he's slept at all since she last saw him.

She raises her hand to his open door and knocks softly. The noise startles him and he jumps in his chair as he looks at her. "Hi," she whispers.

"Come in," he says softly.

She walks in, leaving the door open behind her. "How are you?" she asks hesitantly, lingering near the door.

He shrugs, pushing himself to his feet. "I need to get out of here. Everyone keeps asking me that – and apologizing – and it's driving me mad."

She smiles weakly. "Want to go for a coffee?" she asks softly before she even has a chance to think about it. It won't be a date, she reminds herself before her heart gets too excited

Half an
hour later they're sitting across from each other in a muggle coffee shop, having both blown the rest of the day off. It reminds her of one of those early mornings where he would make her coffee in her kitchen, just after their morning-sex and just before her shower. But it feels completely different.

She peers at him from across the table and the sight of him makes her sad. He isn't at all lively, cocky or playful. Instead, he just looks...lost. Like he isn't sure what to do with himself. He's sitting slouched in his chair, leaning back with his left hand in his lap and his right playing with the napkin underneath his mug. His gaze is trained upon the mug, unwavering. He's hardly even spoken since they left work.
"How are you, really?" she asks softly.

He looks up at her, staring for a moment before leaning forward with his elbows on the table and looking down into his mug. "Been better."

"And Astoria? Is she...?"

"We haven't really spoken about it," he admits sheepishly, running his hand through his hair. "We haven't really spoken at all, really."

She blinks, surprised. "Really?"

He nods.

"Why?"

"We just...don't have anything to say, I guess," he shrugs. "Besides, I could never really talk to her anyway. Not the way I talked with you."

Her breath hitches in her throat and her heart skips a beat. "W-what do you mean?"

"I mean...she and I don't really talk. I mean, we do – you know, about work and whatnot, but I can't... You're the only person I've ever actually spokento – about anything."

When he looks at her, she understands. She's the only person he talksto, the only person he shares his secrets and dreams and thoughts with. The only thing he's never shared with her – which is something he's never shared with anyone else either – is his feelings.

"I just...I don't know what to say to her to make her feel better. I don't know what to say to make it hurt less – because I don't even know what to tell myself. And I don't know how to tell her that I was never even sure I wanted the baby – how am I supposed to say that? 'By the way, honey, I never really wanted the baby but now that she's gone I'm torn up about it'? I can't..." he trails off, shaking his head as tears shine in his eyes.

"It's okay to be confused, Draco. And it's perfectly normal to be sad," she whispers.

"What about anxious? Or terrified?" he wonders dryly.

She nods, smiling weakly as she takes a sip of her drink.

He nods back, turning his head to look out the window, watching the passersby. "We'd had an appointment less than a month ago and everything was fine," he tells her, unsurprised and sort of...disturbed by how easy it is to talk to her. How easy it's always been. "She was healthy and...they both were. And I was...terrified. I mean the second I heard her heartbeat, I was in awe but then all I could feel was...fear. It just all became so real, you know? I wasn't just going to be a father, I wasa father – and I was so fucking scared, Granger."

"That's normal."

He looks at her. "I was finally getting used to it, you know? I was finally getting used to the idea of being a father and having a...family and – whatever happened came completely out of nowhere. I was asleep and then all of a sudden Astoria was calling for me and saying that something was wrong. There was blood everywhere and – and that feeling of pure, unadulterated fear came back."

Pure instinct makes her reach across the table for his hands. Her fingers curl around his, squeezing reassuringly as she strokes the back of his knuckles with her thumb.

His gaze falls to their hands, joined at the fingers. He clutches her fingers like they're his lifeline. "It was too late by the time we got to the hospital," he mutters. "They had to do a C-Section to get... She refuses to get rid of the scar, but she stares at it every day. And the look on her face when she does – it's like she's empty. Lost. I just...I wish I knew what to say."

"I don't...sometimes there's just nothing tosay, Draco," she replies softly. "Sometimes there just aren't any words. Sometimes it isn't what you say, it's what you do."

He frowns. "But I can talk to you. I can tell you anything – what I think, what I feel...I've just told you everything I can't tell her. Although I'm sure the last thing you want to do is listen to this, huh?" He chuckles humourlessly.

She shakes her head. "It's okay, I get it."

"I don't."

She sighs. "Just...hold her. Hug her. Stroke her hair and kiss her forehead and...just bethere. You don't have to say anything."

He smirks sadly, shaking his head as he leans forward, taking her hand in both of his. He peers across the table at her, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles before bowing his head. "How are you doing this? How are you even speaking to me about this?" he murmurs, looking back up at her with wet eyes. "You should be telling me to go to hell for what I've done to you, not-"

"I would never," she denies softly, truthfully. She swallows back tears of her own. "What's done is done. You need someone to talk to and if I'm that person..." she trails off, shrugging her shoulders.

"So selfless," he comments, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. For a moment he looks like the man she remembers. In the following moment, he falls serious. "I don't need someone to talk to. I need you. I miss you," he whispers.

She smiles sadly. "I know."

X

January 16

Draco returns home from work to a cold, silent house. He hangs his jacket in the front closet, places his briefcase on the floor next to the door and kicks his shoes off onto the mat. He then checks the living room, family room and dining room for any sign of his wife – of which there are none. Forcing himself to remain calm, he climbs the stairs to continue his search.

He finds her in the washroom in her bra and knickers. Her hair is dirty, her skin is dry and her face is blank as she stares at her reflection in the mirror. But it's the emotions in her eyes that make his stomach flip. Pain. Sorrow. Regret. Guilt. He follows her gaze to the little red scar underneath her belly button.

He sighs, leaning against the doorframe. "Astoria..."

She lifts her gaze, noticing him for the first time. Several things happen at once, then. Her bottom lip quivers, her eyes flutter closed and her knees buckle. He catches her before she hits the ground, pulling her small, skinny frame – she hasn't eaten a full meal since the incident – up into his arms before carrying her into the bedroom.

He remembers what Hermione told him to do.

He holds her. He hugs her. He strokes her hair and kisses her forehead and tells her it's going to be okay even though he doesn't even know it himself.

And it feels different.

Empty.


Well, you know what they say…you have to hit rock bottom first. I promise things will get better, so stay tuned…