Posted: Dec. 9, 2004

Chapter Ten: Withering

It was the middle of February and Draco wanted nothing more than to forget about that night him and Angelina had made love. He just wanted to pretend it didn't happen, because he knew if he didn't, it would slowly start to drive him insane, and he just didn't want to be angry anymore.

Angelina had tried once before to confront Draco about that night, but he just didn't want to hear it. Angelina wanted to let it go, but soon found she wasn't able to. That night, she had never felt so alone in her life and today, she was determined to get some kind of answer out of him.

Draco was in his study, surprisingly not reading, but seating at his desk writing a letter to Crabbe, who was on another trip to Iceland. He wanted a full report as soon as possible. As Draco was sealing the letter, he heard Angelina enter the room. He turned around in his chair and it was as if he was looking at her for the first time in a long time. He had not noticed before how frail she had become in the last month. "What do you need?" he asked her.

She came in and took a seat behind him on the couch. "To put some things behind us."

Draco sighed, he knew what this was about. "I've told you before, I don't want to talk about it." He turned back around in his seat.

"Are you mad because of what happened at the party?" she asked. "I thought you weren't angry about that."

"I'm not," he spoke with his back to her. "Tulip, can't you just leave well enough alone?"

"No," she stood and walked over to his desk. She leaned against it and lifted Draco's head so she could look into his eyes. "Not long ago you told me that acting wasn't an option anymore. So you pretending that something isn't wrong, isn't cutting it. I can't leave it alone." She cupped his face gently. "I care about you, Draco."

Draco slapped her hand away. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," she stated upset. "But you need to listen to reason." Draco pulled out another piece of parchment and began writing. "Draco." He wasn't listening. "Draco!"

"Well!" he said loudly as he slammed his quill down and then said quietly. "At least I know you haven't forgotten my name."

Angelina shook her head. "I don't follow."

"Of course you wouldn't. One would think after more than two years you would have forgotten about him by now."

Angelina was confused, but knew whom he meant. "You mean David."

Draco turned his head to her. "Of course I mean David."

"Alright, but David is gone," she said sadly. "What does he have to do with us now?"

"Do you miss him?" Draco blurted out.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Damn woman, just answer me."

"And if I said yes?" she asked. "What would it mean to you?"

One side of Draco's mouth curled up. "He never told you, did he?" Angelina looked at him strangely. "Of course he didn't, why would he?"

Even when I hated you, I knew I only hated you because I thought I could never have you. Yet, even then I knew I would do anything to make you mine. Forgive me, because it was I-. Angelina thought back to the last words Montague ever said to her. She had tried to block those words out so many times before, but they constantly replayed in her head. "What did he do?" She found herself whispering.

"Believe it or not, what I have become, under my father's hand, under the rule of Voldemort, was never what I wanted. I was forced to take this." He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the imbedded black ink on his pale white skin. "But your precious Montague took it willingly and did his job with pleasure," Draco explained. "It was he and his group, that volunteered to go after those who had fled the battle ground when Potter was defeated those years ago. It was he alone, that caused the demise of that Mudblood, Granger, and three of the Weasley siblings."

"No," Angelina shook her head.

"Yes. And you want to know what else?" Draco asked her. "With the youngest Weasley boy, it was quick. Ron never knew what hit him, same thing for the girl; he vaporized her on the spot. But with George. . . now he got it the worst. I wasn't there mind you, but I heard his screams and Montague's laughter still haunt the Death Eaters that went with him that day. And wouldn't you like to know, that the only reason George got it so bad, was because Montague had mistaken him for Fred?" Draco watched a tear roll off of Angelina's cheek. "So tell me, do you miss him now?"

"That's not true," she replied.

"Why kid yourself? You knew very well what Montague was. Did you really think being with him would change him?"

"He had changed. He was tired of doing the Dark Lord's dirty work. That's why he joined with you."

Draco laughed as he rose out his seat. "Did he tell you that?" He walked over to his couch and got comfortable. "And let me guess, you believed him?" Draco then said slowly, "Well, guess I can't blame you for that, so did I. But then again, I should have known better, I always knew Montague was out for himself. If he wanted something, believe me, he found a way to get it. And if it did look like he was kind, compassionate, or even just a good friend- it was just one of his many plans in motion. What can say, it was just how Montague worked."

Draco licked his lips and continued. "I can see it now, he probably wanted you two to run away together, am I right?" he got no response from Angelina. "Yeah, that was probably it. And Montague always thought everything out, so if you did decide to leave with him, he wanted to make sure you didn't change your mind, so he probably wanted to kill me off before you left, huh?"

"I wasn't going to let that happen," she said softly with tired eyes.

"Of course not, you're my wife. It's your duty."

"Not everything I do for you is out of some obligation."

Draco sat there a moment. "Okay, I'll bite," he got up and stood in front of her. "You're talking about last month."

"Yes, but that's because you said-" she was cut off.

"What? That we should be something more? That we should stop pretending?" he laughed once more. "And let me guess, you believed that too?" He put his hand on her cheek and noticed she felt a bit warm as he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. "Face it. I said what I needed to get what I wanted. But if it makes you feel any better, you were all around, a good fuck," he smirked.

Angelina slowly pushed Draco's hand away from her. "You know what? I don't know why I ever believed that you were capable of having a heart. Because your heart is nothing more than a desert, where nothing can prosper, where nothing can grow. I realize now that I am nothing more to you than some possession, something you tolerate when it's convenient."

Draco watched as another tear roll down her angry, but sad face. "That night, I thought you were trying to offer me something real, and yes, like a fool I fell for it. But Draco, all I wanted was to be. . ." she trailed off. "You know what? Forget about it, you may have fooled me once, but believe me, I won't make that mistake again." Angelina then bolted towards the exit, but stopped in the doorway and said without looking at him. "Oh, and before I forget, Draco. . . Happy Valentine's Day." And with that, she disappeared down the hall.

Draco cringed the moment she was out of his sight. What the hell is wrong with you? he thought. She didn't have to know about Montague. . . well, at least you didn't tell her everything.

And as he debated whether or not to go after her, he heard a thud come from down the hall. At first he just thought it was Angelina having one of her temper tantrums, but then, "Master!" A male house elf, whose name Draco could not remember, appeared in the doorway of his study. "Come quickly, it's Madam." The house elf pointed down the hall.

"What?" Draco broke into a run down the hall and found Angelina collapsed on the floor. Draco slid to his knees and turned her over. "Tulip," he called as he tried to wake her. "Angelina, talk to me," but she remained motionless. "Come on baby, please," there was still nothing. "Shit!" he yelled as he picked her up off the floor and Apparated out of the Manor.

Within moments they had arrived at the hospital. With Angelina in his arms, Draco made his way to the front desk. "Get me a Healer!" he demanded of the Head Nurse. Everything else, after they took Angelina away from him, which was a difficult task because he was holding on so tight he couldn't let go, became a blur to him.

He couldn't even remember how he came to be resting in the waiting room when a Healer came in looking for him or how much time had passed by. "Zabini," Draco recognized his former housemate.

"Hello, Malfoy," Zabini greeted him. "I'm sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances."

"How is she?" Draco asked immediately. "I mean, one moment she was fine and the next," he shook his head. "I don't know. I couldn't wake her."

Zabini sighed. "Follow me Malfoy. I'll show you what room we have your wife in." Draco said nothing as he followed the Healer down the hall towards his wife's room. When they got there, Draco looked through the window of the door and saw that she had still not waken up. A nurse was checking over her with a chart in one hand and wand in the other. "I'm not her usual Healer -she's out this week- but your wife was here not too long ago for her annual check up." Zabini flipped through his chart. "Everything was fine, more than fine actually."

"Will you cut through the crap and tell me what's wrong with my wife?" Draco couldn't stand the waiting anymore.

"Well, we've ran a few test and done a few charms, but we still don't know yet. It just seems like her body is deteriorating and there's no real reason why."

Draco stood there for a moment, not taking his eyes off of Angelina. "Is she dying?" he asked gravely.

"I'm not really suppose to say unless I'm sure."

"Zabini," he said the other's name in a threatening way.

"Alright. If her health continues to fall at this rate, then yes, I fear we will lose both of them."

Draco's head turned to him. "Both of them?"

"Oh, I assumed you knew," he stated. "Your wife is seven weeks pregnant."

OoOoO

The day was coming to an end and the radiant colors of the setting sun broke into the hospital room Angelina was sleeping in. Beside her rested Draco, with his left arm draped over her legs as he held her hand with his right one. He could hear nothing but her soft breathing and the steady beat of her heart monitor as he watched her sleep.

His ears perked up, followed by his head, when he heard her take a sharp intake of breath in she sleep. As she slowly exhaled the beeps of the heart monitor started to become less frequent and as her last breath escaped her the monitor played one single note, shattering the peace that once filled the room.

Draco quickly stood up, knocking his chair over, and started hyperventilating as he uncontrollably shook his head. "No. No!" he screamed in a panic. He ran towards the door and swung it open. "I need a Healer!" he yelled, but the halls were empty and no one heard his cry.

Draco immediately started sprinting down the corridors of the hospital, but strangely he saw not one Healer, not one nurse, nor any other patients. It was just him and the sound of his shoes as they made contact with the spotted white tiles that covered the floors.

"Why did you leave her alone to die?" A little voice out of nowhere asked. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, then while panting heavily, he made a complete circle, but saw no one. "Why did you leave her alone!" The little voice yelled.

"Who are you!" Draco demanded, taking another look around him.

There was a moment of silence and then the voice replied. "I'm Time- and you're running out."

"No!" Draco's head snapped up from his dream. Breathing heavily he wiped the thin layer of sweat off his forehead. His heart was pounding so fast, it felt as if it were about to burst out of his chest.

As he looked upon Angelina, who was still sleeping in her hospital bed, Draco never felt so relieved in his life. It had been years since his last nightmare, yet the concept still remained the same. Ever since that morning, when he woke up to find her covered in blood, his nightmares always involved him losing her. Back then, he didn't know why those dreams had bothered him so much and now that the reality of it was so plausible, Draco didn't know what to think.

So he was about to do something he told himself he would never do, no matter how desperate the situation may seem. Draco took a hold of Angelina's hand, lowered his head, and closed his eyes as he was about to do the unthinkable. He took a deep breath and, "Dear God," he prayed.

To Be Continued. . .

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