Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling does.
Author's Note: I'm glad you all loved the scene with Ron. I was cracking up when I was writing it, I was going to just have her curse him out, but it didn't happen that way. I just finished chapter 11 and after editing the mess out of it, it's a bit fluffy and I love it, so I'm posting 10, ahead of schedule. I've planned out the next couple of chapters and I'm trying to decide whether the birth scene will be ridiculous or sweet...or maybe both. Decisions, decisions. Oh, well, enjoy this chapter. Read and Review. Happy reading! Peace.
It's not what it seems, not what you mean
No, I must dreaming, it's only in my mind
Not real life, no I must be dreaming
"Bleed (I Must Be Dreaming)"—Evanescence
(Almost three weeks later: November 28th)
There are days when I know that the day I'm about to face is going to be long…and today is one of them.
I mean, I don't have any empirical evidence to back this argument, it's just a little feeling I get and I've never been wrong about it.
So I'm ready for this phone call, well, not really ready, because I was asleep, or trying to at least, but I mutter a greeting into my cell phone anyway, after the third ring, "Hello?" I glance at the clock.
Damn, it's not even eight in the morning.
"Hey, I had the weirdest dream about your baby girl last night," Pansy begins in a rush. I sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes as she goes off the deep end yet again, "She had an extra arm."
I stare at the phone for a moment before putting it back to my ear, "You what?" I inquire, but cut her off with a short sigh, "Look, Pans, I haven't gotten enough sleep and have nowhere near enough energy to warrant this conversation."
That does not deter her one bit, "How much sleep can justify a talk like this?"
I massage an aching shoulder while rubbing my belly, trying to placate my restless daughter. She's been more active than usual and moving around all night and I haven't slept much because of it. Yawning, I reply, "Remember that story about Rip Van Winkle?"
Short pause, "…you mean that bloke that slept twenty-years of his life away…what does that—"
"That's exactly how much sleep I need to justify this conversation."
Pansy sighs dramatically, "Can I help it if your baby had an extra arm? What could that mean?"
I shrug, but quickly realize she's not here to see it. I shake my head at myself and once the baby manages to stop moving around, I find the strength to answer her, "Pans, I don't know…owl professor Trelawney; this is right up her psychotic little alley." I offer.
It's too early to do anything except placate Pansy Parkinson.
"Oh, now that's just ridiculous," she scoffs, "I'm not about to owl her over a dream."
Curiously, "But you'll wake me about it?"
She giggles, "What else are best friends for?"
I smirk and rub my aching back as best as I can, "True. I need a massage."
"Get Draco to do it, I'm sure he's right there in bed with you." She says rather coyly.
Rolling my eyes at her implications, "Actually, he's in France, left yesterday, some merger plan with a French magical lending company, I think he's buying them out, I don't know. I got stuck at the hospital with a critical patient. I didn't get a chance to see him off." I know I sound about as irritated as I feel, but he did call last night to check on me.
Yes, you read that correctly.
He called.
On his new cell phone…believe me; I was stunned when he told me he got one. Too bad he has no clue how to use it. He actually shouted for three minutes when he called and I had to tell him that I could hear him if he spoke in his regular voice before his shouting rendered me deaf.
After we cleared that up, the conversation was pretty good. Talked about an hour about our days, I apologized for getting stuck and not seeing him off and he said it was okay. He asked me if his assistant didn't forget to deliver the cookie and I told him no—
"Oh, that little git didn't tell me he was going to France."
"Because you'd make a list of stuff you want him to buy while he's down there…and you know as well as I do that Draco isn't the type to take orders like a common house elf."
Pansy starts laughing, "So true…but anyway, back to this dream."
I groan.
She whines, "Oh come on, this is normal."
Normal? Pansy knows nothing about normal.
"Really? I didn't know that sharing dreams involving my daughter having an extra arm was so normal. Forgive my ignorance. You rock. I suck."
She laughs at that, "Well, are you and Draco planning to—"
"Don't finish that question. I don't want my baby to have an extra arm. This is your fucked-up dream, not mine."
"I mean it could be handy…maybe she'll get two wands and then she would be a force to be reckoned with."
Groaning again, "Pans…not enough sleep yet." I get out of bed and walk into the bathroom slowly, "I'm about to take a bath and I'll see you at work. Oh, and stop eating sweets so close to bedtime."
Pansy gasps, "How did you know that? I swear you know everything!"
I smile and shake my head, speaking in an informative voice, "Come on, Pans, an extra arm? You know you get nightmares when you eat sweets so close to bed."
"Fair enough, see you at work!"
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life.
"How to Save A Life"—The Fray
(Two hours later)
I'm late for work.
I'm never late. And right now I'm extremely late.
Pansy tries to frantically flag me down, calling my name and everything, but I ignore her and run…okay, walk really fast, past her, without even taking a single glance at her. I'm late. There isn't time to chat. I'm late.
Using my hip, I bump open the swinging door as I juggle my purse, attempt to put on my name-tag, and find my wand all at the same time. You know…I'm doing all the things I should've done before I got here. One thing I'm a master at is multi-tasking. I have it down to a science which is why I'm a good healer.
Sometimes I juggle six or seven patients at once—what the hell?
I look up and all I hear are moans and groans, crying and healers yelling orders and spells.
Oh, no.
I've walked into a war zone.
Another healer looks up just as I come in, she sounds distressed and she doesn't even work in this department. They must've called her down, which is never a good thing, "Oh, thank Merlin you're here! Grab a chart and welcome to hell, we're being inundated."
Stunned by the sight of the normally quiet department, I ask in a weak voice, "What's going on?"
"Hermione!" Pansy bursts through the swinging doors, out of breath.
I nearly jump out my skin and I spin around ready to tell her not to ever scare me like that again, but I freeze when I see her.
She's been crying. Pansy never cries and I realize that whatever is going on, it's worse than I could ever imagine. Black mascara tears run down her flushed cheeks and she's shaking hard. I pull her back out the double doors and ask in a concerned voice, "What wrong, Pans?"
Her voice is broken when she speaks, "I-I-I was trying to tell y-you what happened," she cries, grasping my shoulders tightly, "A-a-a couple of rouge b-bludgers got loose at an open Quidditch practice and in-injured most of the team and the s-spectators before they got it under control. They say they were tampered with." She stammers frantically.
Panic rises in my chest and my mind swims with all kind of impulses, "Oh my god, what team?"
She breaks down in tears, helplessly, "Ron's team. I only saw them when they brought him in. H-he tried to stop it, they said. He looked bad. He was unconscious. T-they wouldn't let me in to see him. I don't know what's going on. They're only letting healers in. Did you not see all the reporters outside?"
"No, I apparated right in here," I answer breathlessly, trying to calm myself down. There is a secretary from another department coming down because the hospital has gone into crisis mode and I stop her, "Do me a favor and take my bag and keep it safe. I'll get it later. Can you take the front desk for a while?"
She nods wordlessly and takes my bag and everything else. I watch as she sits down at Pansy's desk.
I grasp Pansy's shoulders, "We're going to be calm okay?"
Nods weakly, she wipes her tears, "Okay," she says in a stronger voice.
"Come on." I take her by the hand, hold my wand in my other hand and push open the double doors, back into chaos.
The next fifteen minutes are total hell, but I'm in a zone. Pansy just waits in an anxious silence, trying to blend in. Every new curtain I swing back, I'm looking for Ron, but I never see him. Instead, I have to help the ones I do see.
Repair a broken arm. Heal a broken leg. Put back together a shattered foot. Lots of blood…so much blood that the front of my robes are covered in it. Potions are being dispensed at ludicrous rates and healing spells are flying all around. Pansy looks horrified by everything she's seen and in between patients, I have to calm her down because she's about to have a nervous breakdown…I am too, but as long as I keep her calm, I'll stay calm too.
We're hurrying to another curtain when someone jumps in the way, "Hey! She's not supposed to be back here."
My head shoots up to see another healer, I think his name is Grant, standing there, blocking my way, "She's with me."
"So," folds his arms authoritatively, "she's still not supposed to be back here."
My grip on Pansy's hand tightens and I shoot daggers at him, "Look, I said she's with me. Our friend is back here—"
"She doesn't get special treatment because she's your mate."
I shove him in the chest hard. He stumbles back a few steps, stunned, "Now listen to me and you listen to me good, you little prat. Stay out of my business. She is with me. She's not hurting anything or touching anyone, so I suggest that you step off. I'm not having a good day, I'm worried as hell about my best friend, and I don't need this, not from you, not from anyone. So you either move out my way or I'll force you out of my way, either way, we're going and she's staying with me."
When he doesn't move, I point my wand.
"You wouldn't."
"Watch me. Confundo."
He has to block my Confundus charm with a quick protection charm and now that he sees I'm totally serious he wisely backs off and almost runs in the another direction.
I look over at Pansy who looks amazed, despite tear-streaked eyes.
"I didn't know you were such a bad ass."
"I'm full of surprises." I push open the curtain and thus, it continues.
The most serious patient I've seen is the seeker who fell about a hundred feet when a bludger hit his broom. Someone in the crowd managed to save him, but he's in some sort of coma from the trauma his body's been through. At least he's not dead. The lady I just fixed up was just an innocent bystander who got hit in the head.
I wipe my hands and leave her to rest. Looking at the other healer, "Make sure she gets a pain potion twice an hour and have her committed upstairs. I think she'll be fine." I grab Pansy's hand again and together we move along to the next patient.
Opening the curtain, I step in and see Ron laying there, pale, with three healers around him. He isn't moving and they're arguing about something I don't even hear about because I'm too focused on him.
Pansy gasps, "Oh, shit, Ron," which draws attention to us. I let go of her hand.
"She shouldn't be in here." One of them says.
"Well, she's with me. Ask Grant what I'll do to anyone who tries to get her to leave," I rush to his side while Pansy stands frozen where I left her. I touch his skin. He's cool to the touch and his breathing is very shallow. I look around for the chart and see it in one of the healer's hands. My eyes dart up to meet his, "What's wrong with him?"
"He took a bludger to the chest, broke like four ribs and his arm. We managed to repair all the damage, but he's not doing any better. We tried all the potions and spells we know, but he's fading."
"Then," I snap, "Obviously, there's something else wrong that you all missed."
I rest my hand on his chest and listen to him breathe, closing my eyes.
One of the healers in the room speaks and I glare at him, "Either shut up or leave."
I go back to what I'm going and they all decide to shut up. I listen for a few minutes, switching from side to side, trying to push Pansy's soft whimpering from my mind…
...and then I notice something.
"One of the broken ribs punctured his lung, I think."
The three of them rush to the bed, interest piqued. I point my wand at his chest and heal his lung the best way I know how. When the spell is complete, I stand back. We all do and everything is silent for thirty seconds before his breathing improves and ten minutes later, Ron opens his eyes, looking around confused.
He croaks hoarsely, "Where am I?"
Approaching his side once again, I rest my hand on his head, "St. Mungo's…you took a bludger to the chest."
Groans and tries to sit up but I stop him, "I remember that part. Hurts like hell…but what are you doing here?"
Smiles and kisses his head, "Saving your life…again."
Pansy pushes through everyone and practically launches herself at him, throwing her arms around him, "I thought you were dead!" Ron winces in pain and she jerks away as if she's afraid of breaking him, "Oh, sorry."
He smirks, "Its o—"
There is an eruption of loud commotion outside his curtain, glass breaking, clattering and shouting and cursing and all I hear is, "Stay away from me!" and I know exactly who it is. Ron does too. He starts laughing. I grab my wand and rush out, throwing the curtain open only to see a spell flying from Ginny's wand and hitting Grant square in the chest.
Bat-Bogey hex.
He starts screaming as his bogies grow and turn into bats and chase him down the hall. I suppress my laughter, that's what he gets for being such a fucking git. The rest of security and the healers standing around look ready to take her down and she looks ready to battle them out until the end. I take the silent moment to break in and step in the way before anyone else gets hexed.
"Stop, all of you. She's with me. One of the patient is her brother. Ginny, come on, he's in here." I point in the direction of the curtain I just left from. I stare the rest of them down, "We're going to transfer Ronald Weasley upstairs. See to it that it happens and it happens soon. There are going to be a bunch of red-headed Weasley coming in, you all better let them through with no problems. If you think Ginny can wreak havoc, try crossing her mother."
After transferring Ron upstairs, everything starts to get better for me and the chaos seems to simmer down. Life goes back to some sense of normalcy and while on rounds, I peek in to check on Ron. The walls are made of glass on the floor he's on and I see Pansy and Ginny sitting at his bedside. Harry is shaking his head. Mrs. Weasley is fussing over him as usual, George and Percy are laughing, and Mr. Weasley is smiling.
They all look to be chatting very animated about the accident and Ron is reenacting it with his hands waving wildly…a smile comes to my face. All is good.
Maybe this day isn't going to be so bad after all.
Pardon me while I burst into flames,
I've had enough of the world
And its people's mindless games
So pardon me while I burn…
"Pardon Me"—Incubus
(The next day: November 29th)
Pansy is still always late.
Shaking my head, I sip on my decaffeinated tea as my thoughts roam aimlessly, of course, my thoughts go right back to Draco. I've been feeling something different. It's nothing I want to admit to him. Lord knows whenever we actually decide to think about what we're feeling or how we're feeing towards one another, we screw it up beyond belief until we're so fucking confused and tired that all we really want to do is cry until our eyes swell shut, and we have no choice but to fall asleep and pray the next day is a little more uplifting and a little less confusing…
…okay, so maybe that's just me.
Don't get me wrong.
This has been amazing. Draco is an amazing man, more so than I ever knew before. He's been a dream even before we started dating and the dream has gotten better since.
We are not perfect. Merlin knows we fight and argue with the best of them. We are just two ordinary people trying to make a relationship work. We are growing together, learning together, making things work, existing together, and this whole experience just makes me realize something I should've realized a long time ago.
As the days go by, I can accept the fact that Draco is an integral part of me. He's strong. He's supportive. He's very passionate and very different than I originally thought. He's just as stubborn as they come. He's quiet, but I'm starting to realize he doesn't need words to express himself.
Draco Malfoy is a good man. He always has been.
And as I think of his significance in my life, tears form in my eyes.
I don't feel right when he's gone. I miss him—
"Is this seat taken?"
With tears hot in my eyes, I look up at the female voice and smile at the blonde-haired, blue eyed, smiling Daphne Greengrass, "No," I choke out, clearing my throat, "You can sit here. Pansy's late as always, you know that." I tack on a small laugh and wipe my eyes.
As she takes the seat across from me, Daphne looks at me, concerned, "Are you okay? You look like you've been crying."
"Oh," I wave off her concern, voice still thick with emotions, "I'm just hormonal," I lie, "Pregnancy will do that to you."
She seems to accept my excuse and flashes a confirmatory smile, "Yeah, I suppose, how are you taking it?"
I take a sip of tea to clear my throat, "Pretty well, actually. Everyone, for the most part, has been really supportive of me, Draco, and our baby."
"To be honest, I'm still getting over the shock of you two being together…and about to be parents. It's not surprising on Draco's part. I think he's always had a soft spot for you, even in school, even when it was wrong for him to. Blaise accused him of liking you in 5th year and Draco just sneered and walked away, but he never denied it."
My interest is piqued. 5th year? What the hell? 5th year was the year of Umbridge. In 5th year, Draco Malfoy was just a nuisance on my radar. Other than doing a set of patrolling together when Ron and Pansy were busy with other things, we really didn't spend too much time alone together…
"The surprising part of this whole thing is you, actually," she continues, "I never thought that you, knowing what you know about the duties of the wives of purebloods, would actually decide to put yourself in a subordinate position."
My eyebrow rises on that, "Now, Daphne, first, we're not getting married. And second, I thought you knew me better than to think I'd be subordinate to Draco or I'd continue to date him if he did treat me as a subordinate. We are equals."
"Men and women are never equals."
"Why do you think that?"
"Think about it, Hermione. You were the only one who got punished the night you two slept together. He just moved on with his life and you got pregnant. Don't you think that's unfair?"
"Yes, but there's nothing I can do about it, it's nature," I reply honestly, "and to be honest, I had the opportunity to eliminate the results of that night, but I didn't take it. I'm happy that night happened. I would've never been this happy with things. I am, you know, really happy and satisfied with my life."
Daphne scoffs, "I would never let a man have control over my future."
"I wouldn't either. I control my own future and whether a man is present in it or not, that is my own decision. I made my own decision about this baby and about Draco. He didn't just come into my life and make all kinds of plans, tell me what I'm going to do, and lay down the law. No, in fact, we don't have a plan. We're just taking this one day at a time because neither of us knows what the hell to do." I confess in a rush of words, flushed.
She sits there and stares at me.
I take a breath and continue, "People who say that men control their lives let men control their lives and they accuse them of controlling their lives because they don't want to blame who is really at fault…themselves. They haven't taken the initiative to control their own lives and that's sad. I am not one of those women. There will never be a day Draco Malfoy tells me what to do because he knows like I do, the day that happens…it's over. He can make suggestions, I'm totally open for them, but the day he commands…hell no."
She ponders over my words for a while, sipping on her own tea.
"You know, Daphne," I speak softly, "Its okay to want or need a companion. It doesn't make you less of a woman or a feminist. You and I, we're so similar. We fight for what we believe, but I'm not about to shut everyone out to prove that I believe in something. It's human nature for a person to want a companion, to want someone that understands you as well as they understand themselves…" and I leave it at that.
I leave it there for her to think about.
All is silent for a while and we sip on our drinks and enjoy the ambiance of the shop we're sitting in.
My eyes search outside the great window we're seated in front of for Pansy before they move down to my watch; she should be here in about five minutes.
"She's probably going to be later than usual today." Daphne informs.
"Why?"
"There's a lot going on in Diagon Alley today. I'm sure you heard how the minister was resigning next year…one of the people running for the position is a woman. Her name Aurora Kingston, she's a pureblood and was a Ravenclaw when she went to Hogwarts, the first in her family to be a Ravenclaw. Most of them were in Slytherin."
"I know who she is…she used to be the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. I met her after the war; she was trying to get me to work for her at the ministry."
"Why didn't you?"
"I had just started working for Draco and I've never been interested in a job in the ministry."
"Wow, well, I'm trying to get a job helping with her campaign. She just gave a speech in Diagon Alley about an hour ago, it was most captivating."
"She really is charismatic."
"There hasn't been a woman in the position in centuries—"
"And we all know she won't win," a familiar icy cold voice interrupts. Daphne and I look up at Theodore Nott. Her face covered in rage while mine is just covered with annoyance. I haven't seen him since he insulted me that day at Hogwarts and I think it's wise he's laid low since because I've been itching to wipe that look right off his face.
"Why don't you think that?" she challenges, voice simmering with anger. Nott takes the third chair for himself and I want nothing more than for him to get up and leave.
"It's well-known that women can't handle the position of minister of magic. Women will mess everything up—"
"No more than it already is." Daphne sneers back, "Women can do anything they want. Women are integral to the continuation of the species. Without them, you wouldn't be here to piss me off and for you to sit here and tell me, to my face, that you don't think a woman can handle the job as the minister of magic, is the most absurd and offending thing you've ever said. You are nothing but a pig-headed little git."
I couldn't agree more.
"Men are more political-minded…and besides, she hasn't even had war experience."
My eyes bulge at this and I shake my head, "What? Please stop talking, Nott. Your stupidity is taking up the air in this room. None of the men running against her have had war experience. Fudge didn't have it and people kissed his fat arse all the time and you haven't had war experience either so just shut up about that. Let's put this in a hypothetical scenario and say I want to run."
"Okay." He nods.
"I'm a woman and I've had war experience. I've faced death eaters and dementors and werewolves and giants and I've even been up with Voldemort. I've saved Harry and Ron's arses on plenty of occasions. Everyone says I'm the brightest witch of my age, I'm more qualified to be the minister of magic than any other man in the Wizarding world, and I'm a woman…and just because I'm a woman means I can't be an effective leader? Is that what you're saying?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying…that and the fact that you're a muggle-born."
I feel the anger rush through my veins at the total sexism he's displaying here, "Rubbish. My gender and my blood have nothing to do with my policies, my decision-making skills, or anything else—"
"Sure it does, women think with their emotions—"
"The hell I don't. I think with my brain, I use logic, observation, common sense, and reason. Ron and Harry make decisions with their emotions; they're always charging at anything before they really think about it. They think with their heart first and brain second and they're men, so don't you dare assume that."
"You are just one woman. Let's talk about the one who's running."
"I'm not sure what she uses to think with, but you could ask. You could even give her a shot, but no, you're just like every other close-minded wizard who opposes her: ignorant and afraid of change and I think you and anyone like you are just pathetic." My eyes catch Daphne's and I see she's impressed with my level of passion about this topic.
"What's pathetic is that you shout about women's right yet you allow the course of your life to be changed by having a man's bastard b—"
SLAP!
Yes, that's the sound of the back of my hand connecting with his cheek in what is referred to as a bitch slap. I don't even remember reaching back, all I feel is my hand traveled at warp speed from under the table, grazing the top of my cup and connecting with his face.
The entire shop is rendered into a stiff quiet and Daphne looks stunned. The sheer force of my slap nearly makes Nott fall out of his chair and gives me such a rush.
I want to slap him again and again, over and over until there's nothing left of him, to the point where he's no longer human because to me, right now, he's not human. He's the worst scum on the face of the Earth and I want to make him feel as such. I've never felt such a rage at a person before, not at Draco, not at Ron, not at my dad, not at anyone.
It's not even rage…it's something I can't even describe.
I feel like my chest is exploding, everything just combines, everything, the Quidditch accident yesterday, missing the hell out of Draco, and now this display of such intense stupidity…all this just meshes into this explosion of emotions, rage being at the top of the list.
Daphne and Pansy, who apparently just walked in the shop the moment I hauled off and slapped him, have to stop me from hitting him again.
"Hermione! As much as I would love to kick his arse too, you can't do it here!" Pansy's voice brings me out of whatever the hell that was and I stare at her, dazed, "Daph, grab her purse for me, I'm going to walk her back to the hospital." She turns her attention to Nott, "And it would be wise if you left her alone, next time I won't stop her."
This wall is glaring and it's too high for me to climb
I've ran and ran and now there's nothing left behind
I see a picture of a broken man inside
I've tried and tried and now there's nothing left to try
And I'll wait, for you, I'll wait for you.
"Wait"—Mat Kearney
(Two days later: December 1st)
I've been sitting in my room all evening just thinking, which is still not a good thing.
I think about my grocery list and mentally add tangerines to the list, lots of tangerines: fresh tangerines, tangerines in a can, and tangerines in a glass container…yummy tangerines. I've been craving those quite a bit lately along with peanut butter and skittles (only when I'm waiting), tangerines and chicken. I spent some of the afternoon looking up recipes with those two ingredients in them and found a few I want to try out.
I think about the dirty dishes in the sink and how badly they need to be washed.
I think about Ginny, who is in Greece at a Quidditch match…the first one away from home.
I think about baby names. Draco and I are compiling a list of all the names we like and we're supposed to compare when he gets back.
I think about the good lunch with my step-mum. She's so happy about the thought of being a grandma and I'm just happy she's taking me to lunch and not trying to cook me lunch. I don't think the baby will appreciate her cooking.
And then I think about Draco and his significance in my life.
He's my rock, my tower of strength, my sanity, my best friend, my partner, my lifeline, my equal in every sense and definition of the word. He keeps me sane when all I want to do is go crazy. He gives me comfort when I need it. He is a fresh breath of air when I'm feeling faint.
After this baby, Draco is my…everything. He is a part of me. He is the nerve impulse that orders my muscles to contract. He is my left lung, expanding and contracting with each breath. He is a vertebra on my spine, protecting me and doing his job to keep me upright. He is the phalanges in my index finger. He is my entire heart.
And with him gone, even four hours away in France, a large part of me is missing and I feel, no, I am incomplete.
I still miss him.
God, I miss him more than I thought possible.
I miss seeing him. I miss his scent, his touch, his kiss, his half-smirk when I say something funny or ridiculous or when I'm being completely loony, his—everything. I miss him sleeping next to me and even more, I miss waking up to him. I miss our lunches together before his afternoon meeting. I miss his peanut butter sandwiches; he knows exactly how much peanut butter to put on the bread so I don't choke.
I miss cuddling with him. I miss his crisp black suits and my crypt-keeper jokes. Even though they haven't stopped in his absence, I miss the peanut butter cookie he has sent to me via his assistant every afternoon at the end of my shift. I miss our dates. I miss holding his hand. I miss talking to him face-to-face. I miss sitting in front of the fireplace, waiting for him to step through.
I miss him so much I feel stupid for missing him. It's only been four days.
This is ridiculous behavior on my part.
I'm a rational woman, I really am. It doesn't make sense to miss someone like this. It just doesn't. It doesn't make sense to depend on someone like I sometimes depend on him. I swore I'd never depend on someone like that.
But I do.
And all of a sudden the truth hits me so hard I can barely contain myself.
My ringing cell phone breaks my moment of raw enlightenment. I don't even look at the caller-ID before flipping it open and answering with a choked, "Hello?"
There is some garbled noise, a slew of curse word, and a groan. I already know who it is and a humored smile breaks across my face when Draco's frustrated voice filters through, "Fucking muggle contraption…oh, shit this thing is on, umm…hello?"
"Hi," I bite back my laughter, getting out of bed and slipping into some grey pajama pants and into the comfy slippers Harry bought. They make me feel like I'm walking on a cloud. As I head for the kitchen, wand in hand, I chuckle at Draco who is still cursing at his phone, but seems to have calmed down a bit, "Still getting the hang of the cell phone, I see?"
"Not funny…I don't know why I bought this thing."
Muttering a quick cleaning spell aimed towards the dishes, I focus my attention on the man on the other end. "Maybe it's because you got tired of sending owls…" I offer hopefully in a small voice.
I wish he did buy a cell phone just to talk to me, but that doesn't seem like his style. Still, I want to be one of the ones who matter to him. I want to be and feel and know that I'm important to him. I hate that I need that type of validation. I'm not generally a needy person. I've never been this needy, but now, I need to know he cares.
There is a small pause before he admits with a sigh, "True, this way it's like talking face-to-face except not…did I wake you?"
"No," I sigh, but my heart is full and my voice is thick with the emotions that swell from his words, "Can't sleep…a restless baby and lot on my mind are two things keeping me awake." I start some tea with my wand. Maybe tea will ease me to sleep. Tea and maybe the sound of his voice, we'll see how that works.
Draco asks, "Restless baby?"
"Yeah, she's been moving around like crazy and she won't settle down for anything. I lay on the left, she doesn't like it. I move to the right, she moves around more...but I guess her being this restless is okay. My mind is all over the place, I probably wouldn't be able to sleep if she did settle down."
"What's on your mind?"
I'll be honest, I'm a bit stunned that he wants to know what's on my mind, but I'll tell him anyway because his voice sounds genuine and I want him to be genuine. He's walking. I hear the clicking sound his shoes make as he walks on hardwood floors. I want to ask him what he's doing, but I don't. I want to tell him I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep since he's been gone. I want to tell him everything.
But instead, I clam up, "I…" my breathing is heavy and I exhale like I'm releasing a ton of pressure, which is exactly how I feel. And then I proceed to gather enough of my courage to utter the next words softly, "I miss you."
Draco gets quiet for a while. I hear nothing…nothing at all.
I begin to think the connection might've been cut or he's totally turned-off by my confession and he wants nothing to do with this needy pregnant girl. I'm always so scared of scaring him off, but I realize in this moment that he never runs and if he leaves, he always comes back.
I'm about to see if he's still on the phone when he finally speaks in an equally as soft voice, "You do?"
A nervous sigh escapes my lips along with my confession, "Yes, I do…" I trail off for a moment, heart racing. I get up to pour hot water into the mug and even a bit of honey. It's not until I'm settled at the dining room table when I ask, trying to shield my anxiety, "Do you…do you miss me?"
Silence.
"...yes."
Relief floods through me. I think my heart is going to beat its way out of my chest. He misses me.
He really misses me.
More confident, "Well, how is everything going down there? And when are you coming back?"
"Everything's going okay. Just boring meetings, schmoozing, and lots of Quidditch talk. I'll be back in two days…I'd ask how everything was up there, but Pansy told me you slapped Nott two days ago."
"That blabbermouth…" I mutter to myself, "Yeah, I did. He made me mad."
Chuckles lightly, "I'm sure he did…I wish I was there to see it. Heard it was memorable. She said you looked sort of possessed."
Mumbles, "I felt possessed."
More chuckles, "So, what are you doing?"
"I'm having a cup of tea in my dining room. I finished my list of names earlier. Did you finish yours?"
"Yes, just before I called…hey, let me call you right back."
With a raised eyebrow, I end the call a few moments later and sit, drinking my tea. When I finish, I sit there for a minute, trying not to such a desperate loser by staring at the phone. A minute passes. I drum my fingers on the table. Two minutes pass. I sigh with frustration. Three minutes pass. I snatch up my mug of tea and walk into the kitchen, a bit irritated. I don't even know why.
Maybe I'm just in a sour mood, but when someone says they'll call you back, it does mean that they will call you back. It could've been one of those "say you'll do it but not mean it" things like I used to do when I'd tell Anne I'd take out the garbage after I finish the next chapter. Draco sure didn't waste any time getting off the phone with me.
He's probably in France, dining with a gorgeous blonde, forgetting all about his pregnant, fat girlfriend.
"Now you're just feeling sorry for yourself," I sigh, annoyed with my self-pitying thoughts, "Nobody likes a—"
A voice interrupts suddenly, "Why are you talking to yourself?"
I scream, drop my mug, and nearly leap a foot off the ground when I hear his voice. The mug shatters on impact and with my hand clutching my racing heart, I spin around and there is Draco, standing in the entrance to the kitchen, in one of his many crisp black suits, looking slightly amused and very pale, as usual. He whips out his wand and repairs the mug as if he didn't scare the living shit out of me.
"What—what—what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were in France!" I ask breathlessly, still shaking.
"I came back early. I finally hired Blaise in your old position, he knows as much about the business as I do, so I sent him to finish out the remainder of the trip for me."
And I do what anyone in my position would.
I shove him in the chest, hard.
"You could've told me."
"That would defeat the purpose of a surprise…"
"Well, you surprised me alright. I almost peed on myself, thank you very much."
"Not the reaction I was looking for, but it'll work."
A smile is growing on my face, "Cheeky bas—"
I really don't expect the next thing, but it comes so fast it nearly steals my breath from me. Draco kisses the hell out of me and sure, we've kissed before, but there's something different about this, something about this that makes it extra special. Maybe it's because I've come to accept the truth about us. Maybe I'm just so damn happy to be kissing him in my kitchen after missing the hell out of him for four days. Maybe it's because after this separation, I hope there will never be another one. Maybe it's because my heart is overwhelmed at the fact that he came home early because he missed me.
Hearing his satisfied sigh makes me shudder right down to the core of me, but it doesn't take much to do that. I swear I'm easy. It doesn't take much to get to me. The small intakes of air, the way he swipes my messy hair behind my ears as we kiss, the way he ends each kiss with a small peck, almost like he's stealing one last taste…
Okay, now I'm being ridiculous.
Only I would notice and overanalyze things like that. I can't even remember exactly who ends each kiss, but this one ends with my head resting against his chin and his fingers running through my hair.
I pause to push down the emotions out of my throat before meeting his eyes. Merlin, he has wonderful eyes. They're nice when he smiles, squinty when he's angry. Guarded most of the time, but also dull and distracted when he's working. No matter how much I try to ignore it, I notice now there's something about the way his eyes are set on his face, something about the way they're connected to his smirks that makes my heart leap everytime.
"Are you staying the night?" I ask, pulling away from him slowly and regretfully.
"I wanted to sleep in my own bed tonight."
My back is turned, but I'm sure the disappointment is evident in my voice, "Oh…okay then."
"If you hurry up and pack what you're going to need tonight, we can floo back to the manor together."
I smile, "I can do that."
Why can you read me like no one else?
I hide behind these words, but I'm coming out
I wish I held them behind my tongue
I hide behind these words, but I'm coming out.
Put
your hand between an aching head and an aching world.
We'll make them so jealous; we'll make them hate us
"It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love"—Fall Out Boy
(An hour later)
And that's how I ended up at Malfoy manor, staring out one of the massive windows in his extravagant bedroom.
I've only spent a few nights here since we started dating. It's just too big. I always get lost and frustrated and the house elves always have to give me directions to get from point A to point B, but I don't think they mind. Most of them like me very much. They always have nightclothes waiting for me, as well anything I could ever imagine or want.
Tonight there are fresh tangerines and peanut butter sandwich cut in quarters on a platter on his nightstand.
More than enough, but I'm not too hungry for them right now.
Right now, I'm dressed in silk nightclothes, comfortable slippers, and content with staring out the window.
Draco comes into the room from the bathroom, dressed in black silk pajama pants and no shirt. He wraps his arms around me, resting his hands on my belly and I feel lightheaded from our daughter's movements. It's like she goes nuts everytime he touches me. It's so strong he can feel it…he felt her for the first time last week and he was in so much awe, I started crying from the sight. He couldn't calm me down, panicked, and called Ginny to help.
Ginny and I still laugh about that night.
And I find myself smiling when I think about it.
"Do you want to hear the names on my list?"
I smile, "Sure."
He takes me by the hand and leads me to the bed. I climb in and make myself comfortable, although, it's not hard. His bed is perfect for my back. Draco settles in bed next to me, stretched on his side like a cat, using one hand to prop himself up with his arm. He has his list out and ready and I grab mine from the nightstand.
"Okay, my first one is Deianira, it's Greek."
I look at him like he's crazy, "Dei—what the hell? I can barely pronounce that."
Huffs, "That was my favorite."
"It's pretty exotic."
"Malfoys always have exotic names…hello, Draco…that's about as exotic as it can get."
"No thanks. I just want something simple and cute."
Dryly, "Yes, because we both have simple and normal and cute names."
I laugh, "That's not the point. It took Krum nearly half a year to get my name right. I just don't want to subject our daughter to that kind of torture."
He makes a nasty face, "Krum…his head is full of cotton. Kept on calling me Dragon all 4th year, need I say more?"
It takes a few minutes, but I stop laughing and clear my throat.
"Well what's your first name then?" Draco asks, still huffing.
"Samantha."
He yawns, "Boring."
"Whatever…what's your next name?"
And it goes on from there. Draco comes up with Dakota, Despina, Drucilla, and Dominique, while I come up with Hollis, Ella, Isabelle, and Alexandria. I hate all his names and he hates all of mine. None of them are sensible for a child with the last name Malfoy anyway. I really didn't put any of my names with a last name; he didn't either, evidently.
Yes. I decided to give our baby his last name after a quick thought of hyphenating our last names. It's too longer and complicated to be a last name and he is the father.
Draco is quiet for a minute before suggesting, "What about Damalis? It sounds good with Malfoy."
I think for a minute, "Doesn't Damalis mean calf in Greek? No thanks, not naming our daughter after a baby cow."
He releases a frustrated groan, "Your turn."
"Caitlin."
Now he looks at me like I'm insane, "What the hell? Please tell me you're kidding."
"Shut up, Draco…your turn."
"Aurora."
"What did I tell you about constellations?"
"They say you're the smartest witch. Apparently you didn't pay attention that day in Astronomy. It's not a bloody constellation…Aurora Borealis is the northern lights. I saw them once, as a kid."
"Don't try to stick in the sentimental value. No space names."
He huffs, "Damn, worth a shot huh?"
I roll my eyes, "Hell no. I'm out of names."
"I have one more…Dracen. It means dragon."
Snickering, "Ever noticed how, except Aurora, all your names begin with D?"
"That's my intention, do you like Dracen?"
"No."
"Well, this was productive…say, what was your mum's name?"
Absently, I ball up the list and sit it on the nightstand, "Elizabeth."
"Elizabeth…" he repeats, but says nothing more on the topic. Instead, he leans over and kisses me quickly, resting his hand on my stomach and there it is again, the fluttering, but now it's different, it's not restless or constant, "Let's pick this up tomorrow when we have the baby names book with us," Draco kisses me again and all the frustration, all the annoyance, it all goes right out the window and I'm filled with all these emotions I can't control.
Easy.
All this is so easy. It's easy to kiss him, easy to slide lips against lips and let myself fill up and get lost with him, easy to touch him, and easy to let him touch me, hesitant at first, but swimming in confidence soon after. The surreal quality from before is back. Draco's fingertips are in caressing my cheek and it's as if a thousand, no, a million small shocks are running through me. His lips part from mine and he kisses me up, behind my ear, and I moan aloud, unable to stop it from gasping out of my mouth.
No man has ever had such an effect on me and I'm firm in the belief that no man ever will because I don't want anyone but him. I haven't, not in a long time. It's taken me two days to realize something I should've realized three years ago.
I pull away and just stare at him.
"We don't have to…" the words die on his lips when I throw my arms around him, hugging him and crying softly.
Draco just holds me. He doesn't know why, he doesn't ask questions, he just drops countless kisses wherever his lips reach as his hands run up and down my back. My shoulder shake, I can't stop them, the tears just gush from my eyes on their own accord. I don't feel sad or anything, just completely overwhelmed by all these feelings.
He just holds me and lets me cry because sometimes it takes all the strength in this world to hold myself together and sometimes, like now, I'm no good at it. I'm too besieged by these intense emotions to even think about holding myself together. Draco doesn't say a word, he just lets me cry and cry until I don't think there's anything left in me.
I don't know what's happening and I'm so scared and when I'm done crying, when there isn't a tear left and I can't take one breath without making some shuddering sound, he's still holding me. And I close my eyes and let myself relax because he's holding me tightly and murmuring into my hair. He always seems to know what's best, even when I don't…and right now, holding me seems like the best choice.
I can't hear a word he's saying, I don't care. His arms say so much more. His arms tell me he cares. He cares about me. He cares enough to learn and remember the insignificant things about me…his arms tell me he always has.
So I let him hold me because somehow Draco has managed to restore my faith in myself and this funny little thing called love.
Good? I hope so...hopefully not too fluffy. Until next time.
