While You Slept

While You Slept

We buried him the next day. Oddly enough I had no tears to cry. I suppose...he said goodbye when he woke up. I knew when he closed his eyes he had gone. I don't know how I knew, but I went out to tell Pomfrey he'd died and she went to check him, to see if it was true or not. It was.

Even then I didn't cry. I don't think I have tears left.

Oddly enough, I don't feel depressed, I don't feel like I can't go on, I don't feel resentful towards him, I just feel...empty. I suppose that's normal, being that he was the reason I was going on. During the month he was in a coma, the only thing that kept me going was the thought of him waking up. Well, he did that, and then he died. I have no purpose.

I have only one regret.

We never got married.

His gravestone says his name was Harry James Potter-Malfoy. June 31, 1980 to May 15, 1997.

Next to it is my name, my birthday, and a space, waiting for me to die.

Something tells me it won't be long.

A week later Remus gave birth to my baby brother: Lucifer (the Latin word for morning star, not the Christian one for the devil) Malfoy. No middle name for once.

They were proud parents, sad, but proud nonetheless. After all, they'd just lost one son, but they'd been gifted with a new one.

I was out entirely.

Now that I knew my baby brother would suffice as the heir to the Malfoy thrown, now that I knew he would survive to see his seventeenth birthday, I should say, I found it was my time to go.

****

I knew it would be like this. Draco had been dying ever since I did. I could see it when he slept mostly. He didn't know, but he was always crying while he slept. Even before I died, he was crying. When the tears didn't come, that was the night I knew he would finally pass. With a new baby to take the title of Lord Malfoy and nothing left for him to live for, he was ready. He died the day his brother was born.

One week after me.

****

"Have you seen Draco?" Lucius asked. He looked worried, which was a rare sight indeed, but he'd been worried ever since Harry's death.

Remus shook his head from his post in the kitchen.

He leaned against the counter, new born Lucifer in his arms, and thanked the gods for the first time that he was a werewolf. Only that would allow him to be up and about the day after childbirth.

"He's probably still sleeping," Reums reasoned. "It was a big day yesterday," he said with a slight smile on his lips, as he looked at the son he had carried for nine months.

Lucius, however, only shook his head, the worry in his eyes never leaving it.

"Nothing's fazed him since Harry's death, Remus," he said reasonably. "I doubt he'd have even less energy after yesterday."

"Maybe he went to the grave again," Remus suggested. "He goes everyday...."

"I don't think so," Lucius said. He couldn't explain it, but he didn't think Draco's absence was due to anything normal.

"Then go to his room and see if he's there," Remus suggested. He could sense his husband's unease and it was making him and the baby uneasy. "Go before I'm forced to make you."

Lucius chuckled slightly and hurried out of the kitchen.

He knocked on Draco's door before opening it.

He was confused when he saw his son still in bed. Draco only slept passed seven in the morning if he was sick, and here it was nearing eleven.

Lucius walked over to his son's bed and pushed the hair away from his son's forehead.

The skin was as cold as ice.

"Merlin..."

Lucius ignored his husband as he began to cry.