House: Slytherin

Category: Theme

Prompt: "So, I did a pregnancy charm...:" [Speech]

Word Count: 1685

A/N: Thank you Kristina for beta-ing this monstrosity!

oO0Oo

"I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," the Healer said as he entered the office, making Rose cringe. Healers never prefaced their sessions with an apology unless they were to deliver bad news.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Scorpius replied from beside her. "Now, what were the test results?"

The Healer sat down behind his desk and shuffled his papers, not meeting their eyes as he answered, "Not good, I'm afraid."

"How— how bad?" Rose's voice shook.

Finally meeting their eyes, the Healer answered bluntly, "It's a rare strain of dragon pox. There's no cure— at least not any we know of. Mr Malfoy, you're dying."

Scorpius paused. Finally, he said, "Everyone's dying, doctor. I'm just doing so quicker than others." Although he chuckled at his own joke, Rose could see the tenseness in his form, hear the falseness of his laugh, and spot the fear underneath his façade.

"How soon?" she said sharper than she'd intended, but by Merlin this bloody Healer liked to drag things out.

"He's got a couple more years, though it's hard to tell with this disease." The Healer shuddered. "You've contracted a nasty one all right. Mind telling me how you got it? It's so rare nowadays…"

"Not at all," Scorpius answered warmly. "I was working at a dragon reserve with Rose's uncle — collecting Potions ingredients, you see — and I must have caught it there."

"Yes, and Charlie's never going to hear the end of it from me."

"Oh, Rose," Scorpius laughed, the crow's feet in the corner of his eyes crinkling as he did so. "Don't blame it all on him."

"I don't plan on it." A hard look was in her eyes. "There's plenty of blame to go around."

The Healer glanced between them. "Would you like me to leave?"

"No, no, we were just going," Scorpius reassured the man. He slowly got to feet as Rose gathered their belongings. "Are there any papers I need? Information sheets, maybe?"

"Take this folder." The Healer handed a thick file to Rose, who stuffed it into her handbag. "Would you like me to see you out?"

Rose smiled at the man. "No, there's no need. Thank you for offering, though." With that she and Scorpius left St Mungo's.

. . . . . . . . . .

"I don't want to tell your parents."

Scorpius ran a hand through his hair. "Rose, we have to. They're my parents."

"I still don't want them to know."

"Rose, I know you guys have never agreed in the past, but can we put that aside for once?" He threw himself down on the couch and loosed his tie. "My parents aren't blood purists. They accept Muggleborns. They— they just didn't want their only son to marry a half-blood."

Rose huffed. "So blood still does matter. I was Head Girl! Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Not with their type of people," Scorpius answered. "Only wealth and lineage impress them. Now, sit down." He patted the sofa.

As she sat down, Rose sniffed, "I have impeccable lineage. I'm the daughter of two members of the Golden Trio."

"Yeah, well, to them being related to the Golden Trio is a bad thing," Scorpius laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist. "But I married you anyways!"

"Scorpius," she pressed a kiss to his forehead, "they disowned you for marrying me."

"And all it's proven is that you're worth more than all the money in the world. I mean, I gave up the Malfoy fortune for you!" he said with a roguish grin.

"I just wish you didn't have to choose," she sighed.

"But I did, and I'll say I chose well," he mumbled into her hair. "You kiss better than a thousand galleons— wanna remind me?"

She snuggled even closer to him, laying her head on his chest. "It won't tire you out?"

He chuckled, and Rose could feel his chest vibrating beneath her. "Never."

"Then I'd love to."

. . . . . . . . . .

As Scorpius walked out of the bathroom, only a towel wrapped around his waist, Rose spared a moment to admire his well-defined muscles. Even though it'd been months since they'd visited St Mungo's and he'd been diagnosed with Dragon Pox, he was still quite fit.

Too fit for her own good, apparently. Suddenly remembering why she was waiting outside the bathroom door in the first place, she blurted out, "So, I did a pregnancy charm… and I'm pregnant!"

. . . . . . . . . .

As they lay in bed that night, Rose murmured, "I don't want to tell anyone else I'm pregnant." Then, before Scorpius could contradict her, "I— I just can't. Not yet. We don't know what's going to happen. If the baby'll live. If it'll be healthy. If there'll even be a baby. What if I have a miscarriage? They're common enough for the first child—"

Scorpius cut her off with a soft kiss to the palm of her hand. "It's okay, Rose. If that's what you want to do, then that's what we'll do."

"Thank you, Scorpius."

. . . . . . . . . .

Rose was in the living room, curled up with a good book, when the fire blazed green and Scorpius appeared before her, swayed from side to side, then collapsed with a thump.

"Scorpius!" she cried, throwing her book aside and rushing to his side. His forehead was cold and clammy, his skin almost grey with exhaustion, and his clothes were drenched in sweat. "No. Oh, no." Getting to her feet, she grabbed the small pot of Floo powder sitting on the mantel and tossed a handful into the fire. "St. Mungo's!"

. . . . . . . . . . .

"Yes, love?" Rose smiled down at her husband, unshed tears shining in her eyes. This was the first time he'd spoken since she'd Flooed them both to St Mungo's. Though she'd spent days at his side, waiting for him to regain consciousness, to hear him speak again… it made all the hassle worth it. "What is it?" She gently squeezed his hand for extra emphasis.

"My p-parents—"

"Shh," she hushed him. "Your parents disowned you. And when they found out you were dying, they only sent an owl." She sniffled. "Please don't talk about them now. They don't deserve that. They— they didn't deserve you. They're horrid people."

Scorpius sighed, then said so faintly that even Rose barely heard his murmured, "No." Then he coughed, the spasms racking his body, took a deep breath and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," Rose answered, running a hand through his fine platinum-blonde hair. "I've loved you since we met on the Hogwarts Express as first years. I just didn't realise it until much, much later."

He sighed. "Me too." Rose looked down at him: they'd been married six years, and she'd begun to believe that the force of their love would keep them together forever…

The Healer knocked at the door, startling Rose from her reverie. "Missus Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"Your husband's resting now. Perhaps you'd like to go home and take a hot shower?"

Rose smiled at the Healer, though her eyes were sad. "Home is where the heart is," she answered simply. "I'm not going home until Scorpius comes with me."

"Um—" the Healer began to speak, then thought better of it. "If that's the case, would you like a cup of coffee in our hospitality lounge?"

"That'd be very nice." Rose began to gather her things, then turned and said, "If anything changes in his condition, I want you to inform me immediately."

"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy."

The Healer left, and Rose paused to press one more kiss to Scorpius's forehead, her eyes beginning to tear up as she did so. Then she turned to leave, but then door swung open. Two blurry figures in deep green robes stood in the hallway, one with platinum-blonde hair the same shade as Scorpius's.

Rose blinked back her tears and as her vision cleared, she saw Draco and Astoria Malfoy. Her distress must showed, for Astoria's face fell and she cried, "Are we too late?" She raced to the bed, then stopped short. "Oh, Merlin," she gasped, falling to her knees. Draco Malfoy stood behind his wife, resting a hand on her shoulder, his face inscrutable as she wept. Rose watched them, hatred swelling within her. These two had stood by and let her husband die. They hadn't visited in years and now, as he lay on his deathbed, they wanted to say goodbye?

Draco Malfoy must have noticed her reddening face, for he scowled at her and spat, "Get out, Weasley. Let me and my wife mourn."

Rose snorted. "No. I'm a Malfoy now too, don't you remember, Draco?"

His nostrils flared. "Leave."

"No! I'm not leaving my husband!" Rose shouted, her hair beginning to crackle and rise around her.

"Control your magic, girl," Draco sneered. "And he is our son."

Rose made to reply, but Astoria turned to her husband with soft eyes, laying a hand on his arm and murmuring, "Darling, let Rose stay. After all, she is coming to dinner tonight."

Rose blinked. "I am?"

Draco frowned but did not contradict his wife; at the flick of his wand two chairs trundled to Scorpius's bedside. The sound must have wakened Scorpius, for he lifted his head, slowly opened his eyes, and croaked, "Dad?"

"Son." Draco leaned over Scorpius's pale figure. "I'm here."

Scorpius sighed. "And Mom is here, and Rose…"

"We are," Astoria said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it. "We're here for you, Scorpius."

"Good," Scorpius said weakly. "Take care of Rose and the baby. Please."

"Rose and the baby?" Astoria said, sounding shocked. Then she nodded. "We will, Scorpius. I promise."

Rose glanced at Astoria; then, she turned to look at her father-in-law and was surprised to see a tear slowly rolling down his cheek. "We will," he said softly. "I'll miss you, son."

Scorpius smiled. "Don't say goodbye yet. I'll still be there. Through you, through mom, through Rose, and through the baby. Don't say goodbye, Dad."

Draco nodded slowly. "Then I shall see you again. In my grandson."

Scorpius's eyes drifted shut. "I love you, Rose. I love you all." His breathing evened out, then slowly faded. Then he was still.