Chapter 16: Let It Out
A/N- prompt used: [Dialogue] "We are women. And women are warriors, after all."
Word Count- 710
Draco had practically sprinted from the room at the sound of Scorpius's cries.
He wasn't proud of it, but if he stayed there as Astoria told all of their friend that she was… she was…
Nope.
He was glad for the excuse that was Scorpius Malfoy.
Draco gathered his son into his arms, rocking him gently and murmuring silly gratitudes into the soft whips of his white-blond hair. "Daddy loves you," he whispered. "He does. He loves you so much."
All too soon, Scorpius was back asleep.
And now Draco had no plan.
He settled his son back into the little basinet that Astoria's father had built for him with his own two hands… Astoria's father, who was currently seated in their living room, crying because his daughter was… she was…
Draco escaped out onto the balcony and scaled the trellis down into their communal garden. He snuck around the side of the house and ran right into Pansy.
"Salazar's ghost! Pans, what are you— Are you smoking?"
"Shut up," Pansy said, futilely trying to hide the cigarette from view before ultimately giving up. She returned the cigarette to her lips and took a drag, shrugging with false nonchalance. "All aurors smoke."
Draco raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Harry Potter smokes?"
Pansy leveled him with a devilish smirk. "Don't tell Ginny."
Draco let out a chuckle. It felt so foreign in his throat after the month of hell he'd just had. "Oh, but the she-Weasel and I are like this," Draco joked, crossing his middle finger over his pointer finger. "We don't keep secrets from each other."
Pansy brought her cigarette-less hand to her chest, feigning hurt. "But I thought I was your best girl."
"Sorry Pans," he said, shaking his head sadly. "You've been replaced."
Pansy chuckled which was then followed by a long stretch of awkward silence. He had to watch as Pansy's smile dimmed, the events of that afternoon having returned to the forefront of her thoughts. Draco sighed as Pansy flicked red-rimmed eyes to meet his gaze.
"Cigarette?" she offered, already reaching toward her handbag, but Draco shook his head. She nodded and they returned to the silence.
Draco leaned against brick wall of the old house he'd bought for Astoria a week after she'd agreed to marry him. That seemed so long ago now. But not long enough.
He took a deep breath and looked in the direction of their front door where just on the other side, Astoria was explaining how she was… she was…
"I can't go back in there," he admitted aloud, his eyes glued to the cobblestone path beneath his feet. "Does that make me an awful husband? Maybe I should go back… Maybe, she needs me—"
"She's fine," Pansy interrupted, a perfectly manicured hand resting on his shoulder. He sagged further into the wall, trying to stave off the hysterics for as long as possible.
"How do you know that? I mean, are you okay?" His question sounded bitter, but he hadn't meant it to. He had to hope that Pansy, the only person outside his mother who'd known him the longest in this world, would understand that he'd meant no offense.
"I'm fine too," she said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We are both fine, because we are women. And women are warriors, after all."
Draco felt the tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but he could hold off a bit longer. He could.
"What about the men?" he asked.
For a long time, Pansy didn't say a word. If it wasn't for the consistent pressure on his shoulder, Draco could have sworn she'd left. He'd never heard her so quiet before.
Finally, she leaned down and scraped her cigarette out on the cobblestones. "I think the men should let it out."
Draco squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Nope.
Nope.
No.
No.
No…
"She's dying."
The words were pulled from his lungs like the cry of a tortured man. He burst into tears and sank to his knees.
Pansy stood between his thighs and ran a hand through his long blond hair.
"I know, sweetie," she murmured, as he buried his face into her thighs and wept. "I know."