Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes only. I am
making no money from this.
Notes: Another time skip, just not such a big one. Ron awakens in the middle of the night.
Ron was jarred awake quite suddenly, blinking as he found himself lying on the floor. He didn't find it odd though . . . after
sleeping in the same bed with Draco lately, he had become used to waking up on the floor. Apparently, pregnant Veela males
also got an increase in muscular strength. This had led to one or two accidents where Draco had mistakenly used just a bit too
much force when adjusting his position in his sleep, ending with Ron on his ass on the floor.
Hearing a distinct whimper, he scrambled to his feet and climbed back onto the bed, his eyes wide as he watched his husband.
They had been married for a couple of weeks now . . . Draco was just entering his eighth month of pregnancy. And here
Draco was, sitting up in bed with a pained expression on his face, trying to regulate his breathing as he had been taught to do
by Madam Pomfrey.
“Is it . . . ?” Ron asked, feeling as a momentary wave of pure panic swept through him.
Draco nodded, his blonde hair falling around his face. “It’s too soon . . . too soon.” He whimpered, his hands moving to
clutch at his stomach. He clenched his teeth shut and grimaced, obviously in a great deal of pain.
Ron stumbled out of bed, rushing around to Harry’s bed. He all but shoved his friend off his mattress as he shook him.
“Harry! Wake up!” He shouted, well aware that he was disturbing the sleep of everyone in this room. “Draco’s giving birth .
. . NOW!!”
The room erupted into movement. Neville and Seamus ran from the room, stating that they were going to get help . . . Neville
to get Professor Snape and Seamus to inform Madam Pomfrey that Draco was on his way to the Hospital Wing. Harry and
Ron came to Draco’s assistance, helping him out of bed and to get his robe on, their hands guiding and leading him as they
slowly made their way down the stairs.
Things were happening too quickly, Ron thought, seeing just how much pain Draco was in. It didn’t seem to be letting up. He
knew that it was supposed to . . . like coming in waves . . . but it was as if the waves never receded. Ron was worried. Was
Hermione met them on the stairs and immediately she started going on about the books she had read, and that Draco was
progressing faster than in the books. Draco snapped at her cruelly, telling her to shut her mouth. Hermione had ignored him,
muttering something about Veela’s being temperamental when in labor.
It seemed to be an eternity before they finally made it to the Hospital Wing. Draco was drenched in sweat by then, his body
shaking severely. Ron knew that something was wrong here. Something was most definitely wrong.
Madam Pomfrey took one look at Draco and gasped. After getting Draco onto a bed, Harry and Ron were told to leave. Ron
hadn’t wanted to . . . but apparently someone had called Hagrid since the half-giant came and literally carried him from the
Outside in the all, he heard Draco scream and his blood turned cold with pure fear.
Dumbledore and Snape arrived some time later. The two men immediately swept past where Ron and Harry stood and rushed
into the Hospital Wing. When Snape came back out, his face was paler than usual.
“Professor?” Ron asked, moving to stand before the man. He had to know what was going on. He was supposed to be in
there with Draco. Why had Madam Pomfrey forced him to leave?
“Ron . . . try to keep up hope.” The man said with a waver.
The sound of those words only served to worry Ron further. “It was too soon, wasn’t it?” Ron inquired, feeling as his body
broke into intense shivers. On either side of him, Hermione and Harry stood, silently offering their support to him.
Snape nodded gravely. “Yes, it is too early. His body has not been given the time to make the correct internal changes . . . the
passage for the children to emerge from has not fully formed.” He took a breath, as if steadying himself. “Madam Pomfrey is
a capable woman. I am certain that she will do all in her power to save all three of them.”
Ron sank to his knees, his breath coming in short gasps. Things were unraveling. His family could very well be destroyed in
one fell swoop. Draco . . . the children . . . they were in danger.
“If you’ll excuse me . . . I’m going to contact his mother. She’ll want to know of this.” Snape said quietly.
“Professor . . . c-could you contact my parents as well? I . . . I don’t think I can face them now.” He looked to the door that
led to the Hospital Wing. “And I don’t want to leave Draco . . . even if I can’t be by his side, I will be here for him.”
Professor Snape nodded. Then he turned and walked away.
Ron stayed where he was on the floor, Harry and Hermione staying beside him. He sank against them, not knowing who he
was crying on as arms encircled his body. Things had been so happy just a few hours ago . . . and now everything was
slipping away from him. What would he do if Draco didn’t survive . . . if the children didn’t?
Narcissa sat heavily upon her bed. No . . . she did not want to believe this. It couldn’t be true. But it was, the news had
come straight from Professor Snape’s own mouth in the flames of the fireplace in her bedroom, and Narcissa knew him to be
But still . . . to think that her son was in danger of dying in childbirth. She simply didn’t want to believe it. She lowered her
face to her hands, her shoulders shaking as she wept. Not only did she cry for her son, but she cried for her grandchildren as
well. What if they didn’t survive this?
“Narcissa?” Lucius’s concerned voice came from the doorway.
She had remained his ever faithful wife. Despite his harshness toward Draco, she did still love him dearly. When she saw him
standing in the open doorway, his pale hair framing his face, she rose and ran to him, throwing herself against his chest.
“Narcissa . . . what is it?” Lucius asked softly, running his fingers through her hair. “What has you so troubled?”
“It’s Draco. Professor Snape contacted me.” She blurted out, pulling herself away from Lucius’s body. “Oh, Merlin, Lucius
. . . Draco might die.”
A flicker of fear entered her husband’s striking, silver eyes and Narcissa knew that he did still care for his son. “What? How?
What has happened?” He asked, stunned.
“He went into labor. It’s too soon, Lucius . . . his body isn’t prepared for the stress.” Narcissa cried, laying her head against
Lucius’s chest once again. She wanted the comfort, to be held. Narcissa felt helpless. Her son . . . her only son . . . he was
in danger and she could do nothing for him.
It was but a moment later when Lucius pulled Narcissa away. “Come on.” He urged, running his hand along the side of her
face. “Get dressed. We have to get going.”
“What? Where?” Narcissa asked, confused.
“To Draco of course.” Lucius said with a partial smile. “You don’t honestly think that I’d just abandon my only son at a time
like this, do you?” He planted a kiss on Narcissa’s forehead. “Come . . . we have to go, to be by his side should things turn
Narcissa nodded numbly. She was happy that Lucius seemed to have gotten over himself. But still, she was consumed with
worry over Draco and the children. She could only hope that no harm would befall any of them.
To Be Continued . . .