Devotion

Chapter 18

Just two more weeks. Just two more...

I thought to myself repeatedly as I hurled into the toilet, again and again. The waves of nausea seemed to never cease.

I had let Blaise head off to dinner early, even though Draco wasn't back yet. I knew it wasn't the best idea, but I needed a break from the attention.

Ever since I took the potion, I seemed to be on constant surveillance. I felt like one of those muggle lab experiments. Madam Pomfrey came by daily to check on me and my triplets, and everything I ate was strictly watched. I couldn't even move without someone's help.

I knew it was all for the best, and this would all be worth it in the end. But it still drove me crazy. I felt useless. I mean, I couldn't even manage holding a conversation, half the time I would be falling asleep in the middle of it!

For our children. For Draco...

I repeated as my vomiting turned into dry heaves. This part was the worst. I felt so weak, and so tired. My body hurt from heaving, but I couldn't get it to stop. All I could do was sob as my body continually spasmed, trying to expel something that wasn't there.

That was how Draco found me. A mess of tears and vomit on the floor, hugging the toilet for support.

"Oh darling, darling, it's okay, you're okay," he soothed as he sank to the ground beside me, grabbing a wet cloth to wipe my face.

"Nothing's okay! I can't do anything, I'm so weak, and—" I cried, then paused and looked down at myself. "—and I look like a boulder!" I sobbed.

"No you don't, Evelyn. You are beautiful. And you certainly are not weak. You are carrying three of our babies, only an incredibly strong woman is capable of that," he told me, and all I could do was look up at him.

"As for nothing to do—"

"Am I allowed to do schoolwork?!" I interrupted excitedly.

He laughed. "No, Madam Pomfrey still says no. But I did pick up a book of baby names for us, as we need to decide, don't we?"

I smiled. "We certainly do."

He bent down to pick me up to take me back to bed, but as he rose, I saw a flicker of pain flash across his features. As he walked the short distance to our room, I examined him for the source of the pain.

The way he was moving suggested bruising, and the minimal movements he was making in his neck and jaw signified some kind of injury. And yet there was no mark anywhere on his skin.

He set me down, and as he turned his face away, I realized something. The scar on his cheek that he had had since I had met him was gone. He had cast a concealment charm on himself.

"Take it off," I ordered, and he spun to stare at me, confused.

"What?"

"You're wearing a concealment charm. Take it off," I clearly stated.

"No I'm not—" he defended, but I cut him off.

"Where is that scar on your cheek then? Scars don't just disappear."

"Erm—"

"Draco, you've been caught. Please just take it off, you don't need to hide yourself from me," I pleaded.

He sighed, but slowly raised his wand. As he lowered it, the layer of magic coating his skin peeled off, leaving behind a badly bruised Draco Malfoy.

He had a black eye, a cut lip, and his jaw was a bit out of alignment. His neck featured a variety of bruises, as I'm sure would also be under his shirt if he took it off.

I raised a hand to my mouth, eyes wide. "Salazar, Draco, what happened?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," he said, avoiding my eyes.

"Don't lie, you definitely aren't!"

"I've suffered worse," he added, but that only made me more upset.

"That doesn't make it okay! Who did this?" I questioned.

"I don't know, lots of people."

"Who would do such horrid things?!"

"It's not horrid, not to them. I supported the person who murdered their families and friends. They're just getting their revenge," he informed, his voice leaden.

"But why now?"

"I was alone. Just practicing at the Quidditch pitch for tryouts when they found me. There was no one there to report or stop them, so they did what they liked to me."

"You have to say something, Draco. Or I will," I told him.

"No, I won't, and neither will you. It'll just get worse if they know I told someone. I'll be fine, don't worry."

"I can't not worry, Draco. That's all I'll be able to think about, especially while I'm holed up in here, with nothing to do," I responded.

"Stress is not good for the babies, Evelyn," he said gently.

"I know that! But I can't help it, okay? I love you Draco, I can't stand to think that you're getting hurt!" I yelled at him.

"Then I'll stay here," he suggested simply.

"What?"

"I'll stay here. I won't go to class, I won't play Quidditch, I'll spend every night and day with you," he explained.

"But you love Quidditch, and your education—"

"Are much less important than you. I can miss two weeks of school, I don't need Quidditch. If it worries you when I'm out there, then I'll stay here. Besides, I hate not being here when you need me."

"But McGonagall—" I tried, but he interrupted me again.

"I don't care what she thinks. She can kick me out if she wants. It doesn't matter to me."

"But Draco, this doesn't fix anything. You're just delaying the inevitable. The problem won't be solved," I pointed out.

"So what? A break from my life problems would be nice, don't you think?"

"Fine, but for the record, I tried persuading you against this," I consented.

A smile lit up across his face. He laid down on the bed beside me and pulled me close, kissing the top of my head.

"I love you," he whispered, and I sighed, leaning into his chest.

"I love you too."