Chapter 11
They say that from every human being, there rises a light that reaches straight to heaven. And when two souls that are destined to be together find each other, their streams of light flow together, and a single brighter light goes forth from their united being. Love so passionate and so true. It is what everyone looks for, waits for, hopes for. The other half of your soul that knows you indefinitely, loves you indefinitely. When you find that other half, you hold on to it, hold fast and hold strong.
In the stillness of the dark, a woman looks out into the night, a glass of wine in her hand. Her dark blonde hair glowing like fire in the dim light. Her gray eyes shining, the gold wedding ring on her left ring finger catching the moonlight. It was far past midnight yet she stood waiting.
A man shrugs off his cloak and strolled into the room to find the woman staring out the window. Shadows were cast on his long face and on his light blonde hair. His slate gray eyes took in her figure as she stood looking out into the night. She should have been asleep, he thought.
"You're up late, Azalea," he said to her.
The woman looked around and smiled. She sat her glass down on the table and walked into his outstretched arms. He enveloped her to him, cherishing the way her curves seemed to mold into him.
"I was waiting for you," Azalea answered with a charming smile. "How was the Ministry meeting?"
"Atrocious," he commented. "It makes me wonder why I even work with such thoughtless Neanderthals."
"Well, you're home now, Draco," Azalea said and began to pull him out of the library. "Come on, it's time for you to sleep off all that fatigue."
The couple walked out of the library and headed up to their room. Azalea was soon asleep. Draco sat up and watched her. He was so lucky. Azalea had other options, other men who wanted her yet she chose him. The reason why remained unclear to him. Sometimes he found himself not caring why she chose him. She chose him and that was enough.
Azalea's eyes fluttered open and she looked curiously up at her husband.
"Are you okay, Draco?" she asked sleepily.
"I'm fine," he smiled and bent down and kissed her.
Draco settled himself down and gathered his wife up in his arms and promptly went to sleep.
The next morning, Draco was woken up by the sound of running water. He sat up and blinked his eyes groggily. Azalea was already in the shower. That woman gets up early, he thought grinning to himself. Draco pulled the covers off and walked to the window to stare out at the morning horizon. He would marry a woman that got up at the crack of dawn, he thought, chuckling to himself as he shook his head. As if his wife could sense his thoughts, the water stopped. A few minutes later, Azalea stepped out of the shower with nothing but a bathrobe on, towel drying her hair. She smiled as she saw him.
"You're up early, my darling night owl," Azalea said, wrapping her slender arms around Draco's neck.
"I was woken up by your loud showering," he said, looking down pleasantly at her face.
"My showering was not loud," she argued, playfully hitting him on the arm. "I wasn't even singing this time."
"Ah, perhaps, I've just gotten used to getting up when you're taking a shower," Draco laughed.
"I've trained you well," Azalea smirked and reached up to kiss him. "Now get in there and take a shower."
"Why in such a hurry?" he asked, watching her go to the closet to pick out her ensemble.
"You've forgotten already?" Azalea asked incredibly and rolled her eyes. "We're supposed to have breakfast with the tribe of ruffians we call friends, remember?"
"Can't we pretend we forgot and stay in today?" Draco asked, slipping her a sly grin.
"Tempting, very tempting," Azalea said, "but no. We haven't seen them in quite a while. Blaise is starting to think that I've tied you up somewhere."
"You sure you don't want to rethink that?" Draco asked, his sly smile growing wider. "I like bondage games."
"Take a shower, you wanker," Azalea ordered, an amused smile on her face.
Draco closed the lavatory door behind him, snickering.
Breakfast early morning at a quaint little café in Diagon Alley was always a pleasant occasion. The streets were quiet, the waiters and waitresses were in a sunny mood. Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Astoria, and Dahlia were all late. This extremely annoyed Draco. He had taken a shower early because of his wife's insistence only to find that he was going to sit bored and hungry for another half hour. When the five finally arrived, Draco's scowl had reached an apex and his foul mood was unloaded unto them.
"We said seven thirty, did we not?" Draco continued to grumble. "It is now eight fifteen."
"Would you calm down?" Blaise said, rolling his eyes.
"I could have been eating right now," Draco muttered.
"Azalea, kindly put a muzzle on your husband," Dahlia suggested.
"That's a bit kinky, isn't it?" Blaise sneered.
"Blaise, please," Astoria sighed, "it's far too early in the morning."
"You people are one to talk about early," Draco pouted. "We've been here since-ˮ
"We know!" their five friends exclaimed together.
"Could we please try to have a pleasant breakfast?" Azalea asked.
"Ask Mr. Whines-A-Lot," Pansy said, gesturing to Draco who glared.
"Come on, we rarely see each other," Azalea said. "Are we really going to argue the entire time?"
"Speaking of rarely seeing each other," Blaise said to Draco and Azalea, an unholy glint lighting up his eyes. "What have the both of you been doing that prevents you from spending any time with us?"
"That, my friend," Draco answered, a suggestive smirk on his lips, "would be none of your concern."
"Could we save the unnecessary sexual innuendos for the afternoon?" Daphne asked. "I don't like salacious comments with my morning coffee."
"Daphne is just mad that Mum and Dad didn't let her date that grotesque excuse for a wizard that's been after her," Astoria explained and was met with a glare from her sister.
"That's why I'm so glad that my parents," Draco said, hooking an arm around Azalea's shoulder and pulling her close to him, "absolutely love my wife."
"I'm their goddaughter," Azalea pointed out as Draco beamed at her. "Of course they love me."
"You two are sickening," Dahlia rolled her eyes.
"Careful, Dahlia," Blaise said. "You better be thankful they're not snogging."
"I can arrange for that to happen, you know," Draco grinned.
"No!!"
That night, Azalea sat in front of her mirror, combing her hair. Draco was prattling on about how everyone in the Ministry were all idiots. Azalea watched him from the mirror as he paced the length of the bed, fluffing a pillow ferociously, an irritated scowl on his face. Azalea put down the hair brush and got up. He continued ranting and raving as Azalea sat on her side of the bed, watching him distractedly.
"Draco, I need to talk to you," Azalea said suddenly.
Draco assessed the serious look on his wife's face and ceased pacing. She was watching him with dogged determination.
"You don't want to leave me, do you?" he asked concernedly, climbing onto the bed and taking her hand in his.
"Draco, I-ˮ
"I mean, I know I'm a little hard to deal with at times and I can be stubborn," Draco continued to ramble.
"Wait a minute, Draco-ˮ
"But I promise to be better," Draco insisted. "We can work through this. Don't leave me!"
"I want a baby!" Azalea said loudly, taking his face in both her hands to stop him from rambling.
Draco stared at her wide eyed for a long while. A baby? he thought to himself. His wife wanted a child. It took a while for him to process what she just said. Azalea just watched him, waiting.
"A baby?" Draco asked slowly. "You want to have a baby?"
"Draco, I know we haven't talked about it much but I really want a child of our own," Azalea said, looking at him earnestly.
"Yes, I know," Draco nodded, "but you want one now?"
"Well, I don't mean right this moment," Azalea sighed. "A baby's not something you can buy at the store. What I meant is that I think it's time for us to try to have a baby."
"Azalea, are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I've thought about this," Azalea told him. "You do think I'd be a good mother, don't you?"
"Of course, darling, of course," Draco reassured her, gathering her into her arms. "Okay, we'll try."
Draco watched his wife's face light up as she threw her arms around his neck, an ecstatic giggle escaping from her lips. Draco couldn't help but chuckle himself. They were going to have a baby. He was going to have a son. Or a daughter. It depends on the flip of the genetic coin. The couple went to sleep, visions of a family swimming through Draco's mind. Night folds in on the happy couple as they slip into the world of dreams, wrapped in each other's arms.
People say love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing. This woman and this man do not know this. They may never know it. They could let their love die before it comes alive; never knowing that what they've searched all over for is finally standing in front of them. It takes a special kind of person to appreciate the love they have when they have it. Could they see it? Would they allow themselves to be that vulnerable, to be that susceptible?
Light floods the man's mind. The fog is lifted and he makes it out of the haze. He sees the surface and kicks free from the darkness.
Azalea watched him sleep. Could it really be called sleep? Was a coma the same thing as sleep? She had never seen him stay so still in the time she spent knowing him. It had been five days since he lapsed into a coma. Draco's parents were getting worried and apprehensive. Mrs. Malfoy, for the last two days, began to spend a good portion of her day just sitting in Draco's room. She didn't want to miss the very moment when he finally woke up. It was pitiful to see.
Mr. Malfoy took her out for a day of relaxation to ease her tension. Azalea had promised to keep watch over Draco. She felt partially responsible for what happened. The Malfoys had of course tracked down the cowardly bugger who beat up Draco and raised all sorts of hell. It was a sad and embarrassing day for him. He had it coming. Azalea sighed and turned back to her book, wondering how much longer he would be unconscious.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed him shift in his bed. From her seat, she heard him groan and open his eyes groggily. Azalea quickly wrote a note and gave it to the owl, sending it out the window.
Azalea got to her feet and made her way slowly to his bed. The wizard who treated Draco at St. Mungo's warned them not to alarm him when he woke up. They didn't want him to go into shock. Draco was blinking up at the ceiling. It seemed as if he was thinking very hard about something.
"Just… a dream… a dream…" Draco mumbled.
"Draco?" Azalea spoke softly.
"Was just a dream…" he continued to mumble.
"It's okay, Draco," Azalea attempted to comfort him. "You're fine."
A loud snap behind her made Azalea turn around. Lucius and Narcissa hurried to their son's side. Azalea stepped away and let the family have their moment, her thoughts faintly wandering to her parents. She felt an unexpected pang as she watched Narcissa envelop her son in an embrace.
"M-mother?" Draco mumbled, slowly sitting up.
"Yes, darling, it's me," Narcissa said happily. "Oh, we were so worried about you."
"Where is she?" Draco asked.
"Draco, it's alright," Narcissa cooed. "You're okay now."
"Where is she?" Draco insisted, bolting to his feet.
"Who?" Lucius asked.
"I need to see her. I-ˮ Draco's eyes then landed on Azalea.
He smiled at the sight of her. Azalea watched him warily as he approached her.
"There you are," Draco smiled and pulled Azalea into an embrace, completely catching her by surprise, her eyes wide as watermelons, "my darling wife."