After Tonight

Chapter 24: Everything, Everyone

It took hours before the buzzing in Hermione's ears finally dulled, and her limbs ached from being cramped in a bathtub for hours. But she dared not move, clutching her wand to her chest.

As Pansy bled, Hermione had dragged the nearly unconscious Slytherin girl into the bathroom joined in Fleur' room. Sitting her up in the tub, Hermione worked quickly, casting every spell and charm she could imagine on Pansy's limp form, every so often checking her wrist for a pulse.

Now the two girls sat huddled in the tub, Pansy's back pressed against Hermione's chest, her legs slightly spread as they watched in guttural silence as blood dripped from beneath her skirt and down the drain in a slow trail. Leaning back, Pansy pressed the back of her head against Hermione's shoulder, sobbing as she tipped her head up so as to not look at the life that was draining out of her.

"It should have been me," Pansy whispered, shaking, and Hermione wrapped her arm lightly across Pansy's shoulders and chest, bracing her to herself.

"It would have been me, if I wasn't pregnant."
Hermione could only hum in response. She had no words, no lie of comfort could console her friend, the scent of death and metal swallowing them.

Dropping her chin to her chest, Pansy sniffed. "I don't know what to tell him." With a wince, she shifted slightly in Hermione's arms, looking at her. Hermione felt a lump lodge in her throat as she looked at Pansy's face. She looked so old, so tired, her beautiful features pulled tightly across the planes of her face. "What do I tell him?"

"I don't know," Hermione whispered back hoarsely, trying to keep her tone steady. How did one go about explaining the premature death of a life not yet born? It seemed rude to just move on, to just watch Pansy's swollen stomach shrink back down flat beneath her clothing.

Pansy shifted back to her original position, her shoulders shaking as another wave of tears engulfed her.

It was silent in the house, aside from Pansy's sobs, and Hermione briefly thought of Kelly, still frozen on the floor outside of the bedroom, and angry tears pricked at her eyes. He would never understand the damage he had caused, the inevitable character breakdown he would put Pansy and Theo through.
"Will I ever be able to have children?" Pansy asked no one in particular, followed by more sniffling. "I've always wanted to. I wanted to be better than my mum." She gave a light laugh. "She was absolute rubbish."

Feeling her shake within her grasp, Hermione sensed Pansy might never recover, physically or mentally. She kept her mouth clamped shut, not knowing if any answer she could provide would be helpful.

A bang from outside the room vibrated the house, and the two girls froze in their positions.

"Hermione?" A female voice rang, and Hermione almost sighed in relief.

"In here!" She screamed back, helping Pansy sit up as Ginny entered the bathroom, closely followed by her mother. Voices were colliding and spewing outside the doors, and Hermione strained to identify the owners of the sounds.

"What happened?" Mrs. Wealsey demanded, kneeling beside the tub, going into full mothering mode. Her eyes widened as she took in Pansy's pale face and soaked through the skirt, placing her fingers against the girl's throat.

"Kelly shot me," Pansy laughed humorously, and waved her hand. "He fucking shot me and killed my baby."

Mrs. Weasley looked helplessly to Hermione, and Ginny offered the two girls a hand.Hermione stood, her thighs screaming in protest, and she gripped Ginny's hand hard. "I tried to stop..." Hermione started to say.

But Ginny cut her off. "I know you did."

It was unspoken, but the verbal affirmation that her attempts to help were not in vain made Hermione straighten her back and mentally set to work.
Mrs. Weasley waved her away, saying, "Go on, I'll take it from here."