A/N: Oh, maybe this chapter will be more entertaining than the last. Do keep in mind that it has been over two weeks since the goodbye and that Pansy is heading toward Diagon Alley to clean out her savings. Ok, on to the actual story now

"Diagon Alley."

Pansy blinked at the announcement, making her way toward the door. She saw another passenger stand as well but thought nothing of it—after all, Diagon Alley was probably one of the most popular stops in all of London. The young witch put her bag over her shoulder and stepped off, walking toward the pub that would take her to the alley itself. She hesitated at the steps, hearing loud laughter from inside.

"Don't," called a voice. It was barely above a whisper, but she could tell that it belonged to a man. She turned around quickly, the hair on the back of her neck standing. The passenger who had stepped off the bus was leaning against the wall, hidden in cloak and shadow.

"Were you speaking to me?" Pansy asked, her chin automatically lifting as she spoke. Rule one to communicating with dangerous strangers in London: show no fear . . . unless they pull a wand or a knife.

"They'll recognize you inside," he replied. He turned away, walking away toward the muggle shops.

Pansy glared at him, watching his shadow. She raised a brow at his smooth, prideful stride. Her breath caught in her throat—a good thing, because she would have shouted out her first thought otherwise. Stepping off of the steps, she all but ran toward the figure. She grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"YOU BASTARD!" she shouted, turning him around. "You think disguising your voice could have fooled me?" Pansy reached up, pushing back the man's hood to see gray eyes and a smirk she knew all too well. Her heart jumped into her throat.

"And they say I have no acting skills?" Draco replied coolly. He bent down, catching Pansy's lips with his own. She fell into him in a split second, tasting him greedily. The confusion, the aggravation, was gone for the shortest of moment. The witch tried to pull away but an odd sensation caught her—they were apparating.

Draco let go of her, and she stumbled back onto a bed. Her eyes darted around what appeared to be an inn room with a few mismatched pieces of furniture and an utter lack of decoration. She stared up at the young wizard before her, pushing herself toward anger.

"Is it safe to talk here?" Pansy asked, her voice quiet.

"Very," Draco replied, "but only until morning. I rented the room ahead under Ms. Penelope Parker's name, so they're not expecting to see the guests. I've already warded it—it's sound proof."

"Good. Because I've got some words for you, Mr. Malfoy," Pansy growled. "Do you know how dangerous apparation during pregnancy is for the child? If something happened to our baby because you didn't. . . What are you staring at me for?"

Draco took a step back, a curious expression in his eyes. He let the smirk and cool demeanor fade from his face, replacing it with a smile more genuine that she had ever seen before. The wizard fell to his knees, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist as if expecting her to run away. "Love, don't be upset. The baby would have been more hurt by the men who were looking for you than one apparation. And we didn't go far, just to Knockturn Alley."

Pansy put a hand in his blond hair, letting him press the side of his face into her swollen stomach. He seemed to be collapsing onto her, grasping at her for dear life. She had never seen him this way before. He had always been the most collected of the pair.

"I was scared," she whispered.

"You had a reason to be," Draco said. "I was afraid that you'd give up on me and go back to your home."

"Home is most definitely not where my parents live," Pansy replied. "I think I'm caring a little home inside of me. That's what it feels like. I just wish you had been here with me. It was hard to drop everything by oneself. And those damned muggles are so bloody strange—do you know that they rejected my plastic?"

The witch felt his tear drops soaking through her shirt, and she reached down, lifting his face. She was surprised that he let her see him cry instead of jerking away. Draco looked up at her as if he had just seen a goddess. "You're going to make a wonderful mother, Pansy."

Pansy's mouth opened and closed a few times before she caught her wits. "Dragon. . . What happened to you?" The harshness of her tone was gone. "Why haven't you visited? Did he hurt you because you came back? Did he find out that Snape did. . ."

"I've been safe," Draco said, softly cutting her off. "And I've been trying to keep you safe." He lifted his hand, running it over her jaw. "I've kept you a secret. . . .From everyone."

"Then no one knows about us," Pansy said. Other than Myrtle, that is.

Draco shook his head. "No one. But they all seemed to have noticed that you are missing. Bloody hell, Pansy, do you know that your parents are offering a reward for you? Someone's going to earn a damned good living if you turn you in. That's why you must be more careful, love. You can't go waltzing through a pub without even a hood up—and on the Knight Bus. Thankfully, you look so out of place in your muggle clothing and curls that the bus driver didn't suspect that you were the pure-blood everyone's looking for. But you must be more careful."

"Easy enough to say," Pansy snapped. "But how can I do that, Draco? My school things and my other clothing were left in an inn. This is all I have. The average witch or wizard will give me a full look down."

"What about Nanna's savings?" Draco asked.

The witch smiled. They honestly did think alike. "I plan on cleaning it out. That's why I was on my way here."

Draco nodded. He pulled himself to his feet and took a seat on the bed beside of Pansy. "Very good. Gringotts is closed at the moment though—the Ministry is enforcing a bit of a curfew for the shops. In the morning, as soon as they open, get in, get your gold, and get back out. You need to leave Diagon Alley as soon as possible. I'll leave you some clothes to wear."

"Aren't you staying with me?" Pansy said, her voice showing a bit of her famous 'spoiled-rich-girl' whine.

"I can't do that." Draco sighed. "You know as well as I do that we're less obvious apart. And I have business to attend to—things I'd rather you not be privy to."

Pansy gave him a playful pout. "Are you having an affair, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco kissed her. "No, dear."

"Can you stay . . . just a little bit longer then?" she asked. "I would fall asleep better if you were beside me."

The wizard raised a brow. "Just a few hours, my flower. I won't be here when you wake up."

Pansy slipped off her shoes, scooting across the bed. Draco tossed aside his cloak and let his body fall back so that his face was inches from hers, letting his hand crawl along her side. "Promise me something."

"I think I've promised you quite enough."

Draco lowered his brow dangerously, but Pansy could see the smile in his eyes. "What?" she finally asked.

"You won't believe everything you hear," Draco finished.

"I'm a gossiper, not a gossipee," Pansy scolded, slipping a hand under the button-up her lover was wearing. "I promise I won't. Now, shut up, and hold me, for Salazar's sake."