Waiting to Exhale

A/N: Hmmm an Epilogue of sorts is coming up. If you've made it this far, let me know what you think, please? I would appreciate it, greatly.

He worried as his breath stuttered. In. He waited to exhale. Out. He could see, but not hear, her screaming as another sharp contraction controlled her body. He wanted to take the pain away. He wanted it to be over but no. He'd gotten her into this mess and now she was in agony and there was nothing he could do. NOTHING except wipe the sweat away from her damp forehead, whisk away the tears that dripped from her wide brown eyes.

And so, that is what he did.

At some point, he'd clambered up onto the bed and settled behind her, his body becoming her pillow. Large hands soothed the taut, tight belly as contractions ripped his delicate little wife apart. He shushed her, rocking her side to side, kissing her temple, her nape, her shoulders. He wanted to cry but Malfoys NEVER cry. At least not that he'd seen. Instead, he held her, stroked her, whispered to her.

And breathed.

In. Out. Pause. In. Out.

However, his beautiful wife had then turned her vitriolic temper upon HIM, hissing epithets and threatening his personal bits with so much venom that he wanted to crawl away and hide. He knew that she didn't really mean it but it hurt and reminded him so much of their first years at Hogwarts when he'd tried to break her and she would not allow any such thing. She was scary, his witch, and though he'd never really forgotten it as time had softened the effect? He remembered now and so he'd shut her out. Blanking himself until he could see the screams and feel the words but not hear them. It had been better for them both. She could rage and he could soothe until the pain ended.

The medi-witch touched his arm and drew his attention toward her, wide blue eyes gleaming with a desire to help him and his own battered emotions. Most people forgot about the father, focused as they were on the mother and the soon to be born child. She always noticed and always offered the man in question, a small smile.

"Okay, Missus Malfoy, deep breath in and push!"

She screamed and he heard her this time, even as he pushed against her back, the expanse of his chest a bulwark against her agony.

"Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods. It HURTS!," Hermione screamed.

"I know, I know," he answered, a slight quaver in his deep voice.

She'd been at it for HOURS and yet she soldiered onward, ever onward. Pushing with all of her strength, crying, screaming, clawing his forearms like a wildcat. He took it because she needed him to and he wanted to provide comfort. Finally, FINALLY, the words~

"I see the crown. Come on PUSH!"

She screamed yet again and bore down, her face reddened from exertion, eyes the merest slits. Draco whispered in her ear, "Proud of you love. You can do this, my Mio." and he knew, KNEW, that she heard him even if she was too busy struggling to do all that her body demanded. 

More pushes, five, six, and the baby slipped from her weary frame. A squall as a breath was blown into the little one's face and with that, Hermione started to cry. Draco joined her not long after. Even if MOST Malfoys did not cry, they did. All three of them.

An hour later, once the afterbirth had been passed and various potions had been given to ease pain and heal Hermione's battered body, the little boy~ with a head full of white-blond curls and darkest gray eyes~ was returned to his parents who awaited his arrival with bated breath. Hermione held him first, her dark eyes checking fingers and toes before passing him, gently, to his father.

"What do you want to name him, Draco?"

"Scorpius," the blond young wizard whispered. "His name is Scorpius."
 

~~Break~~

The return to Malfoy Manor occurred three days later. Narcissa and a platoon of elves stood ready to offer help and consolation. The Floo in the main drawing room had provided a quick travel option to mother and child and though Scorpius was wailing, at least he hadn't be forced to Apparate. As for Draco? He was worried. Hermione looked exhausted and hadn't been sleeping all that well, especially since her milk production had not increased so she'd been forced to bottle feed. Though it meant that Draco could help with all feedings, his wife felt as if she'd failed their child and he could see the despair in her eyes.

"Come on, Mio. Let mother have Scorpius for a while. You need a nice soak and a nap."

By the look in her eyes, Draco knew that she was brewing up an argument, so he forestalled her.  "My mother took care of me, Mio Mine. Now do what I ask;  go bathe and rest. I will bring him to you in a few hours."

Hermione pouted but handed over their son and started for the grand staircase leading toward their wing of the house. When her husband used THAT tone of voice and name, she KNEW that there was no point in arguing. He wouldn't stand for it. In truth, the new mother felt disgusting and ill-rested. Better to give in than to punish all three of them.

Plus, she could use it against him later.