Save Yourself

Save Yourself, Chapter Twenty-Six

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In the weeks that followed, Draco and I were granted a private room adjacent to the Slytherin Common Room, much to the jealously of our peers. While the area was rather small and might even have been considered cramped, it was much better than the dormitory Draco and I shared with the rest of the male sixth years. Each night, before we were given our private quarters, I slept in his bed, my head on his chest and his arm wrapped around me, fingers caressing the growing bulge that was my midsection. I would never admit it to anyone, but it was with him and only with him that I felt safe.

As the weeks passed, I grew more and more tired and anxious by the moment, and soon I was unable to make the trek from class to class each day. My robes no longer fit, and I was forced to send away to Madame Malkin’s for third-trimester pregnancy robes I would have never considered, had it not been for the fact I had to make my way to the Great Hall at least twice a day to eat. As I entered the eighth month, Draco began to skip classes with me, opting to take care of me instead of listening to lecture after lecture. I didn’t blame him in the least, but he was loaded down with homework and makeup work, as was I, and him not possessing the experience and knowledge a class would have provided him with often proved to be more frustrating than having to be alone all day did.

Finally, on the last day of April, I persuaded Draco to continue his duties as Slytherin Seeker and play the final Quidditch match against Gryffindor. The two of us argued for nearly an hour, him far too protective of both me and his unborn son to even consider leaving, me far too tired of barely having a moment to myself. I was the one who won out in the end, of course—besides wanting to spend every waking moment with me in my agitated state of mind, Draco was also well aware of the possible effects stress could placed on both timing and labor. It was with a scowl that he made me promise that if anything were to happen, I wouldn’t hesitate to force Professor Snape to pull him out of the game, and finally, in the early morning light, he left.

With a content feeling floating around inside of me, I slipped back into the nestles of sleep, more than prepared to snore the day away as Draco tried and would most likely fail at taking control of the snitch before the Golden Boy, Harry Potter, did.

Try as I might, however, I was unable to stay asleep; my mind was racing and, as much as I hated to admit it, the size of my bladder had decreased significantly, and the unpleasant feeling often associated with having to relieve oneself pressed upon me urgently. With a heavy sigh, I threw back the heavy down comforters Draco and I had been provided with and waddled my way over to the doorway that led out into the spacious common room area.

I grasped the polished wooden railing with my right hand and carefully took the first step down the rather narrow stairway leading up to the entrance of our private room, my bare swollen foot touching the cold step with a jolt. I winced as a stab of pain hit the center of my spine, making my knees buckle suddenly and my large body fly forward.

Desperately, I reached wildly for the railing with my other hand, a blind panic seizing me as I swung toward the metal rods connecting the banister to the cold stone steps. With a sense of detachment and slow-motion, I felt nothing but air come in contact with my fist, and a moment later my swollen belly hit the railing hard, causing an intense feeling of pain and a flash of extreme fear to hit me, just before my mind shut down and the world around me faded into black.

Voices surrounded me, and the haze I felt in my mind lifted slightly as I became conscious once again. Before I had a chance to open my eyes to the harsh bright light above me, however, a wave of tightness and white-hot pain hit me, leaving me breathless as I fought hard not to scream.

“That’s less than a minute in between, Poppy,” I heard an anxious female voice whisper, and I suddenly became aware of a cool hand holding mine against the soft sheets of what I then assumed to be the Hospital Wing. “Honestly, how long does it take Severus to find Mr. Malfoy and procure him from that ridiculous match?”

“Calm down, Minerva,” a second voice I knew to be Madame Pomfrey’s said gently. “They’ll be along at any moment, and I am hoping to have her awake for the procedure. It’s always easier that way.”

Bemused by my previous state of unconsciousness and still shaken by the last wave of contractions, I opened my eyes slightly in order to view my surroundings. Off to my right sat Professor McGonagall, who wore the most worried expression I had ever seen from not only her, but from anyone in my life. In front of me and slightly to my left stood Madame Pomfrey, a potion in hand.

“I’m awake,” I mumbled, my fingers curling around the crisp white sheets I lay on. “Where’s Draco?”

“He’ll be here in a moment,” the nurse repeated, gray eyes turning up toward me. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

I turned all senses inward for a moment, taking an inventory as quickly as possible. “My stomach hurts a bit, as well as my left ankle—” With a start, I realized exactly what had happened, and I immediately tried to sit up. “My baby—is my baby okay?” I gasped, immediately placing my left hand atop the mountainous swell that was my son. “I hit my stomach, and—”

“If anything’s wrong, I’ll be able to fix it immediately after you give birth,” Madame Pomfrey said matter-of-factly, causing an even greater fear to rise within me.

“Birth?” I said weakly, mentally flipping through the date in my mind. “But I’m not due for another month—why is this happening now?”

“Because, dear,” Professor McGonagall said kindly, squeezing my hand, “the impact of your fall induced irreversible labor. The infant will be in good hands here, you know that.”

“I know,” I parroted softly, squeezing my eyes shut as another contraction seized my insides, the room still void of anyone even remotely resembling my husband.

If he misses the birth of our son, I thought viciously in the throws of pain, there will be hell to pay.

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