A/N: This is the Chudley Cannons Chaser 1 checking in for Season 8's Final of the QLFC!

Chaser 1: Your character must not know all the facts and extrapolate.

Optional Prompts: 1. (word) lucky; 8. (dialogue) "Were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?"; 14. (genre) family

Word count (before A/N): 2,996 words

Thank you to my lovely teammates Ray, Ashleigh, Arty, and Queenie for beta-ing for me!

Draco dropped his bag onto the wooden floor, the various vials and potions inside clattering as they settled. He breathed out.

"Story, you will not believe the day I've—Story?" He scanned the empty flat. "Astoria?" He called out louder. No one replied.

Quickly, he moved toward the bedroom, his eyes still scanning the tiny rooms of his flat for his girlfriend. The bedroom, however, was empty too.

A twinge of unease began to build, but Draco stamped it down. It wasn't completely strange, he reminded himself, for him to come home before her. After all, Astoria often worked odd hours as an Unspeakable, and while it was rare for him to get back to his flat first, it wasn't unheard of.

It was just…

Astoria usually owled when she was running late.

Draco shook his head. No. She was fine.

He was only being paranoid. Probably, he thought, because his day had been so unbelievably long and tiring. There had been an outbreak of dragonpox at Hogwarts, and the St. Mungo's staff was called in specially to help. Draco had spent all day attending to sick children while actively avoiding leaving the Hospital Wing—until today, he hadn't been back to the school since the war, a fact he was painfully aware of.

Now, an hour till midnight, all Draco wanted was to fall asleep in Astoria's arms and let dreamland take him away from the past.

But there was no Astoria to be found.

"I'll just make some tea," he told the empty flat and set about clambering around the kitchen. As he waited for the water to boil, Draco looked toward the empty living room once again, part of him hoping to see her.

"Stop," he said, shaking his head. The familiar signs of paranoia were creeping in, ones he hadn't felt since the war. He knew today's visit to Hogwarts wasn't helping to ease his mind either. For so long, he lived in fear of losing everything that mattered. His mum. His childhood. His friends and dear ones. Even his father, on the rare occasion Draco felt sentimental.

Astoria helped change that fear. Well, Astoria and his therapist.

Draco took a sip from his mug. Midnight, and not a single word from her. That wasn't like her in the slightest, yet Draco had some sense to think logically. Astoria wouldn't up and disappear; something was keeping her. Not something bad; he would have heard something by now. He was, after all, her emergency contact on everything, right down to her paperwork at the Ministry. Nothing was amiss—not yet.

He walked to the living room, setting the mug aside as he sank into the olive green settee by the fireplace.

He'd just have to wait.

Featherlight lips pressed against his cheek, rousing Draco from sleep.

"What?" he said, sitting up. "Oof." He felt a pull in his neck. As he reached to rub the sore spot, a soft giggle drew his sleepy eyes across the room.

"Hi, love."

He couldn't stop a grin from taking over his face. "Hey," he said.

Astoria reached for him, allowing Draco to pull her into his lap. She fell into him, her body warm against his, the sweet smell of almonds and pears wafting from her hair. Draco nuzzled his nose into her shoulder, closing his eyes. "Where were you?" he murmured.

Astoria yawned. "I got off early. Really early, actually, and I went back to my flat to grab some clothes." She raised her head up to meet his gaze. "Then I fell asleep. All day. I woke up this morning and panicked."

"Why?"

"You. I didn't send a note or anything." Astoria placed a hand on his chest, her fingertips drawing little circles on his shirt. "Turns out you were fast asleep, not a care in the world."

Draco feigned indignation. "Hardly. One minute without you, and I was running through all the wildest of scenarios."

"Yeah?"

"Thought you were eaten by a hippogriff."

She smirked.

"Swallowed by a dragon."

Astoria rolled her eyes. Draco sat up, his arms wrapping around her as he ran through other unlikely scenarios, kissing her between each. "Kidnapped by mermaids. Ran away with a whole horde of doxies..."

Astoria snorted. "I'm sure." She pressed a gentle kiss on his chin. Then, before Draco could pull her in for more, she stood. "You might want to shower, love. Your shift starts in half an hour."

"What?" He looked toward the window, the unmistakable rays of early morning sunshine sparkling across the glass. He fished his pocket watch from his pants, still incredulous. "Damn, seven-thirty already?"

"I couldn't believe it either. I must have been exhausted yesterday." Astoria was shaking her head. "I've got to run now—I'm needed as early as possible."

"You rushed over here only to run away?" Draco pouted. "Were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?"

"I woke you, didn't I?" she teased. Draco conceded, giving her a small smile as she leaned in one last time to place a kiss on his lips. "Till tonight."

Then she was off, the flat door closing with a quiet click.

Draco sighed, falling back onto the settee. "See?" he told himself. "You worry over nothing."

Above him, daylight danced across the ceiling, swirling around in little waves of yellow and amber. Outside, the other habitants of Diagon Alley began to wake, the delicate murmur of 'hellos' and 'good mornings' seeping through Draco's window. He loved waking up to them. There was infinite cheer in greeting one's neighbor, even if he didn't often find himself on the giving or receiving end. It didn't matter; those joyful hellos made him feel at home.

It was in that, listening to the world awake, that Draco decided he wanted to surprise Astoria. They'd missed a night together; he'd make it up with a nice dinner.

"But first," he said, sitting back up and taking in the empty flat once more, "dragonpox."

"This is a nasty one, innit?" Healer Maxwell said through his protective mask. Draco nodded. He'd never seen so many kids this sick at once. "Just goes to show there are downsides to boarding school."

"You reckon we'll be out on time tonight?" Draco asked.

"No." Maxwell laughed. "We never leave on time. Why? Got plans?"

"Kind of," Draco said, glad his own mask hid his disappointment. Ten years his senior, Maxwell had become something of a mentor to Draco. He'd seen just about everything, and, bless him, he was the only Healer on their team who would talk to Draco like a person instead of a former Death Eater.

"Finally asking your lady to move in?" Despite the mask, Draco could see Maxwell's cheeky grin extend all the way across his cheeks.

Draco rolled his eyes. Maxwell had been shocked when he found out Draco and Astoria had separate flats. Sure, they'd been together for six years, but Draco didn't ever want to make Astoria feel rushed into anything. She was special, and he wasn't about to screw it up by assuming or asking too much.

"I'm telling you, mate, it's time," Maxwell said. "What are you now, twenty-five? You might even want to skip a step and get married. Before she gets tired of waiting for you to pluck up the courage."

"Life isn't a series of steps," Draco said. His therapist had told him that once, and for whatever reason, it really resonated with him. Nothing was truly meant to happen as planned. Just in its own time.

"Yeah, well, life isn't just about waiting either," Maxwell retorted. He held out a fresh set of gloves for Draco. "That said, we should probably get back."

Nodding, Draco followed Maxwell out of the tiny break room toward the quarantined section of dragonpox-riddled students.

"Poor sods," Maxwell said, ducking under the curtain. Just as Draco was about to follow, however, he felt the delicate curl of an owl's talon rest upon his shoulder. He grabbed the note and patted the little bird just before it flew away.

The note was short, but Draco would've recognised that cursive anywhere.

Hi, love. I think I've figured out why I was so tired yesterday. I was ill at work today and have decided to head home. I don't think I'll be over tonight, but I wanted to let you know. All my love, A.

"Bugger," he mumbled. Guess it didn't matter what time he got out now.

He was rightfully pleased with himself as he mounted the stairwell of Astoria's flat. He had a bag of soup from the Leaky Cauldron in one hand and a bottle of artisanal honey in the other. One thing he knew: when Astoria was sick, she loved having extra honey around to soothe her throat.

It wasn't a big dinner surprise, but it was something.

Rounding the last corner, Draco juggled his packages into one hand, leaving the other free to unlock the front door. He didn't want her to get up on his account, especially if she was feeling unwell.

It was darker inside than he expected, with nothing but a tiny flickering hall light illuminating the way to the kitchen. Draco pocketed his key and swapped it for his wand, sending out a quick Lumos to help guide his way.

Briefly, he wondered if Astoria had felt so ill, she had forgotten to turn on any other lights.

Draco set the soup and honey down on her tiny two-person table and lit the kitchen lights. "Story?" he called out.

An eerie sense of deja vu blanketed over him when no one replied. Quietly, he made his way to her bedroom, hoping to find her curled up underneath the duvet. However, the bed covers were pulled taught, every fluffed pillow in its place.

Odd, he thought. She had said she'd gone home. Maybe she'd meant his place?

Draco collected his things and Disapparated on the spot, too impatient to walk the two flights of stairs down to the building's public Apparition point. He landed outside his own flat door and pushed it open.

"Astoria?" he called. Nothing.

The soup and honey were discarded as he ran through the rooms just to be sure, but even still, he came up short.

Where in the bloody world was she?

Draco pulled the note she'd sent from his pocket, his eyes scanning over the words once more. "She said she'd be home," he muttered, the little curly letters etching into his mind as he read them over and over again. If she wasn't in her flat nor his, what other home could she mean?

Maxwell's words started to trickle into Draco's mind, their implications clear as day. Finally asking your lady to move in? What are you now, twenty-five? Skip a step and get married… before she gets tired of you.

Draco shook his head. Those were someone else's words, not his. Certainly not Astoria's… right?

Did she want that? To move in? To marry? Was she mad he'd taken so long?

Draco thought back to that morning, how she had slipped into his home only to leave just as quickly. Why didn't she stay? Why wasn't she home now?

"Stop," he scolded. He could feel the irrational parts of his mind manifesting his biggest fears and projecting them onto his absent girlfriend.

Yet…

She hadn't come home the night before. And she'd barely spoken to him this morning. She'd left quickly, wasn't even intending to wake him. She seemingly lied about being at home…

Maybe Maxwell was on to something. Draco's stomach filled with lead—cold, heavy lead that pulled him down by the navel into the olive green settee in the living room. Maybe he'd been moving too slowly for Astoria. Maybe he'd been too relaxed.

Was this the end for them? Was she pulling away?

He waited until morning to owl her. He figured that was the right thing to do; besides, it gave him the whole night to decide how to breach the subject of moving in together.

Part of him was petrified at the thought. What if she thought it was too soon? But then Draco replayed the last few nights, wondering where she'd been. He felt pathetic for it; Astoria had every right to make her own choices for whatever she did at night. Even if they moved in together, she'd still have every right.

Draco just wanted to understand her better; for him, Astoria was home. Two flats or one, she was it.

Outside his window, he could hear the shops waking, the quiet hum of life buzzing just within reach. Draco opened the windowpane, letting the sounds greet him in full. That's when he spotted her strolling up the cobblestone path, her eyes already catching his from below.

Astoria smiled, her delicate hand raised in a wave.

Draco's stomach dropped.

"Merlin," he whispered to himself, stepping back from the window. He was an idiot. All the worry and concern melted instantly upon seeing her shining face look up at him, and now he felt like a complete arse for jumping to conclusions.

So what if she wasn't at her flat last night? She probably went somewhere to get the potions she needed to feel better. "Damn it, Maxwell," he muttered. "Got in my head."

If he faked an emergency at St. Mungo's, could he avoid this?

The door swung open.

"Hey." Astoria tentatively stepped into the flat, her eyes immediately landing on Draco's. He noticed first that she looked tired, like even another full day of rest hadn't really helped her feel better. The next thing he took in was the nervous way she was playing with her fingers, each twisting and twirling around another. "What's going on?" she finally asked.

Swallowing his guilt, Draco took a deep breath. His note that morning hadn't exactly been full of cheer.

"I...went to your flat last night."

"Okay?"

"You weren't there."

Astoria scrunched up her nose in thought. "I went to Daphne's, actually."

Draco cringed on the inside. "Upon review, I might have overreacted." Then he reached out his hand, beckoning her to him. Her shoulders relaxed, and her tired smile grew wide. She finally stepped away from the door, reaching for him as she got close.

"Your note this morning was—"

"—stupid—"

"—disconcerting." They looked at each other for a moment before Astoria put on her best Draco impression. "We need to talk. It's urgent. I thought you were breaking it off, which, I'll tell you right now, would not go over well with my sister."

"Your sister?"

Astoria rested her hand in his, their fingers molding together as if that's where they always belonged. She looked up at him, the deep emerald green of her eyes looking him over, losing herself in the moment. He wanted to kiss her. He even tried to, but suddenly, she pulled away, rushing past him to the open bathroom door. It shut behind her with a bang.

Draco approached slowly. As a Healer, he'd heard plenty of people retching. Heck, several of the kids the day before had barely been able to keep crackers down for more than a few minutes.

"Still feeling lousy?" he asked through the door. He heard the flush of the toilet, the tap of the sink running. The door squeaked open, revealing a disheveled yet smiling Astoria.

"Actually," she said sheepishly, "I feel great. Better than I ever thought possible."

"What?"

Astoria led him back to the living room. Together they sank down into the couch as she said, "There's a reason I've been so out of it lately. I would have never even thought—but Daphne made me check."

"This is the second time you've mentioned her." Draco felt wary. No, he no longer felt like Astoria was worried about going too slow. That had been his own paranoia taking over. But something else seemed odd. Before Astoria could respond, he grabbed her hand, hoping it would calm his nerves.

"I… we…" Astoria looked up at him once more, this time biting her lip. "I'm pregnant."

Draco felt his hand tighten around Astoria's, his entire body sinking into her words.

"With a baby?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I hope so."

Pregnant. Astoria was pregnant. She wasn't upset with him for any of those stupid things he'd convinced himself of; she was having their baby. They were going to be parents.

"I realize this is unexpected, and to be fair, it's still quite early. Like I said, had Daphne not planted the idea in my head, I wouldn't have even checked." She looked at him again, but Draco was still processing the very scary thought of becoming a father. So, she pressed on. "I also know that you wanted to take things slowly. I know this is huge, and I understand that it might not be what you wanted. Hell, we don't even live together—"

Draco caught her lips in a passionate kiss, shutting out any words of doubt she might have.

"We should get married," he whispered against her lips. "And not because we're going to be parents. Well, not just. But because I love you."

"I love you, too." She kissed him again. "But I know you. I know how you are with change, and—"

"—and I'm an idiot for waiting this long. I've always known that." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap.

Astoria giggled as he kissed her across her nose and cheeks. Something inside him started to awaken, nothing big or momentous, but something small, like a tiny pool of liquid luck rooting into the corners of his heart. Astoria really was his home, and he felt so grateful to her in that moment. Somehow, it felt like things were falling into place for them.

"We're going to be parents," he whispered. "I'm the luckiest man on earth."