The Baby Project: Put me back together

Draco- Chapter 13

The past 2 weeks have been painful. 

I hate myself for being so cold towards Hermione, but I can't seem to stop. 

I have to keep reminding myself of who I am, and who she is. 

I have to think about what Father would say. 

I have to keep my distance, or I'll end up hurting her even more. 

It's not like I'll be here for much longer anyways. 

The thought almost makes me sad, because I know Hermione truly cares about me, and I know she'll be sad to see me go. 

I don't understand why.

Or maybe I'm deluding myself, and she simply pities me, and is secretly waiting for the moment when she doesn't have to deal with me anymore.

So why do I stay?

Why can I not bring myself to get the knife back out and follow through this time?

It's her.

It's because of Hermione. 

No one can ever know, but I care for her. 

I'm not sure when or how it happened, but I know for a fact I can't leave her behind. I can't stand not knowing if she is ok, whether she has eaten or not. 

The past 14 days have been almost unbearable. I feel myself choking back sobs regularly, every time I have to walk past her and pretend that I don't desperately want to wrap her in my arms and keep her safe. 

I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. 

I'm being stupid. 

I know I am.

I just don't know what else to do.

I knock on the bedroom door, not giving myself enough time to hesitate before I walk in anyway. 

Hermione is sleeping. 

I stop and watch her for a moment. 

The duvet covers her bottom half, but I see her curled up under the covers, her small form rounded like a little mouse. She is wearing a red tank top, and I see the small bulge around her abdomen section. 

How did I not notice it before today?

I feel like shit. I should be better for her. 

A piece of paper rests on the bedside table, and I draw closer to it, careful to be quiet as not to wake her. 

I gasp softly when I see it. 

It's a blurry black and white image, and I have to squint in the darkened room to make out any distinct features. 

It's not awfully clear, but I know it's from an ultrasound, which by the looks of it, it dated 2 weeks ago. 

She didn't tell me.

I am angry for a moment, before I consider why she didn't mention anything.

Well it's obvious.

I haven't exactly been the most supportive partner. 

Because whether I like it or not, I'm stuck in this experience with her.

I should at least do my part.

I tell myself that's the only reason why I sit on the side of the bed and wait for Hermione to wake up.

Not because I like looking at her or anything.

I reach a hand out to stroke her hair, but think better of it, not wanting to be creepy.

Eventually, she starts to stir, and winces slightly as she puts weight on her bump.