Chapter 32
Draco watched Lovegood with wonder. She was diving into a crate of prophecies that was more than a head taller than her, hair flying, sending packing materials every which way. A piece of packing foam was stuck to her black face glitter, making her look more haphazard than usual.
" There has to be a neater way of doing that," He smirked, protecting his clipboard from flying debris.
" Yes, but this way is so much more fun," She threw part of a cardboard box that she'd shredded behind her.
" Got your gloves?" He ducked when the rest of the box came his way.
" Of course!" She waved a hand, covered in the special purple fabric they used to handle prophecies, out of the rubble.
" Alright, don't rip them," He warned.
" Finally!" She exclaimed, lifting one of the smaller boxes that held the prophecies themselves, even as it struggled in her grip.
" Okay, what are the numbers?"
" ER98217-01 to -12," She opened the lid and lifted a silvery globe.
" Okay, -05 is Araminta Jones and Grizelda Speller," He retrieved the correct label from the table and handed it over.
Luna placed it low on the empty shelf, " Did you see Hermione again last night?"
" Yeah, I did," He grinned, " And we're fixed again for tonight."
" Wow, it must be going well," Luna smiled toothily, reaching for the next globe, " ER98217-02?"
" Clayton Toll and Ursula Ink-Toll," He handed her the correct label, " I mean, I'm not sure how well it's going."
" You mean it isn't going well?" She queried.
" No, I mean, I don't know what good or bad would look like," He laughed, " I'm about as good at this as I am at muggle cooking."
" You're not bad at muggle cooking," She said airily.
" I know, I have no faults," He crowed, " And at least from my perspective, things are going well."
" Well how is Hermione?" She prompted, " -03?"
" Hanamaki Fujioka, Guy Pippens and Madeline Pippens," He handed her the label, " I dunno."
" You didn't ask?"
" Well she asked to see me again tonight, even after we argued," He shrugged.
" You argued?" Lovegood's voice had the slightest hint of accusation.
He grinned, " It's not what it sounded like. It ended well."
" She raised an eyebrow, " You mean you worked it out?"
" In a way," He mused.
Her back stiffened, but her voice stayed light, " -04?"
" Magnus Callaghan."
She snatched the label out of his hand, " If you upset her, you have to work it out. Not talking about something will just cause problems."
" I didn't do anything! She was upset over Weasley," He defended.
" -05? Well then what was there to argue about with you?" She hadn't completely let him off the hook, which he could tell by her tight grip on the struggling prophecy.
" Caradoc and Juliette Prosser," He retrieved the label, " It's… complicated."
" It would be less complicated to answer the question," Lovegood smiled.
He huffed, loosening his tie, " Blaise and Weasley got matched, and she was all up in arms because she decided that Blaise wasn't good enough. Jealous, clearly."
" Draco, I can tell when you're not saying something," She prompted.
He held his breath, " -06 is Drue Wimborne, Anlara Blackheart and Patricia Singleton."
She took the label for the next globe, " Draco."
" She was just so obviously not over Weasley, it was pathetic," He sniffed.
" Oh, you got jealous so you argued," Lovegood said simply, " -07?"
" Quinten Rabnott. No, she got jealous," He defended himself.
" Of course she did, their breakup was so hard on both of them," Lovegood flipped a piece of blonde hair out of her grey lipstick and placed the globe on it's stand.
" It was?" He furrowed his brow.
" Well they were together a long time," Lovegood explained, " -08?"
" Mairead O'Shea and unborn O'Shea," He handed her the slip, " Why did they break up?"
" I don't know," Luna mused.
" Maybe Weasley finally put his foot in it for the last time and she dumped him," Draco growled wickedly.
" Oh, I don't know about that," Lovegood picked up the next globe with some difficulty, " When I knew them, they were pretty happy. And then suddenly, they weren't."
" I think my flair for the dramatic is wearing off on you," Draco grinned, " -09 is Neville Longbottom and Rachel Meadows."
" -10?"
" Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy and… Unborn Malfoy…" Draco's words trailed off into nothingness, as his brain had temporarily turned into mush.
Of course, prophecies could be about anything. A dead pet. A bad tuna sandwich. The results of a pickup quidditch game.
But of course, the first thing he imagined was the obvious, the most absolutely terrifyingly obvious.
His knees felt weak. Or maybe he was lightheaded? Maybe counting the number of steps to the elevator would help, then getting in that elevator and going home and having Ipsy bake him a pie. Pumpkin, if he had to guess right now.
" Oh, bother," Luna's hand groped in the box, " It's not there. Set that label aside."
Not there? Prophecies never went missing, and certainly not before they'd had a chance to put it on the shelves. Draco pulled his hand into a fist and then let it go.
" Draco? What's wrong?"
" Let me see the box," He demanded, setting the label and clipboard on the table.
" Its spot is empty," Luna said, handing over the box, " What's wrong?"
" It's mine," He explained, " It's a prophecy about me."
" Well did you take it home and forget? I'm always bringing things home from work, like my gloves and my clipboard and my chair," Lovegood mused, helping him dig through the box.
" No, there's no way, I've never seen a prophecy with my name on it," He laughed, " Pity the sod who had to see my future. Can anyone just come and pick up a prophecy before it's on the shelves?"
" Not unless they work here. Where else would they have seen it?"
" I don't know," He abandoned the first box and went for the rest of the crate.
" Maybe it was misplaced. I'll check the serial numbers on the globes," She dove for the shelf, " Get yourself some gloves. It'll be easy to tell, if it won't struggle for you."
" Should I tell Matilda?" Draco asked, nudging his head towards their boss's office while he yanked on his gloves agitatedly.
" Not until we're sure we can't find it," Lovegood began checking the already placed globes, which shook violently in her hands, " Maybe it broke in the records room?"
" Possible, but I still want to check thoroughly," He flew through the boxes like a madman.
" Draco, calm down," Lovegood said soothingly, dodging box lids " It's just one prophecy. You're going to break something."
" It's not… I just need to find it…" Draco's hands were shaking and he tried to slow down.
" Is it possible someone else could have picked it up? Was there any other names on the label?"
" Well unless my unborn child apparated from the otherworld to pick it up out of the records room, or Granger got over her disdain for the profession of see-ers," He responded slowly, " Which is, if possible, more unlikely than the unborn child, no one else would have picked it up."
Lovegood was silent for a long moment, " You're thinking that it would be your and Hermione's-"
He cut her off, " I can only imagine the worst, so please help me."
Lovegood was silent for a long moment, turning globes over and over, " You know how innocuous these things can be. Just last week I had a premonition about a man in Kent visiting a shoeshine."
" I know that, rationally I know that," He muttered, pressing an extremely violent prophecy back into it's box.
If Granger was pregnant? He would be catatonic. They'd have to wheel him into St. Mungos and his son or daughter would have no father because he'd be around the bend. And then they'd be raised by Granger and Weasley and Potter and turn into a gruddy grand Gryffindor who'd likely believe that their father was not only insane but at the very least a cowardly rat with no morals. At the very worst, his child would believe he was some sort of murderer/weakling hybrid.
And the worst part was that he knew he should want to run as far away from Granger as possible at the least suggestion of anything like this. But he, the perverse little weakling that he was, wanted to summon her right away. Maybe to scream at her, maybe to fuck her, but he had to see her right away.
He tried to be methodical, meticulous, tried to control his breathing. In, out, one, two…
" Hang a tick," He paused, holding a globe aloft, " Did you say you took your chair home?"
" I was carrying it already so I just…" She made a little whooshing noise, " Walked right into the elevator with it."
Draco couldn't help it. He threw back his head and laughed.
" Damn, Lovegood, you sure know how to lighten the mood," He checked the serial on the bottom of a globe.
" I'm glad I could cheer you up, Draco," She breathed.