Moments

38. Pansy's Moment of Need

Warning: Contains very strong language...

(989 words)

'I can't bloody believe this is happening now.' Pansy groaned animalistically. She was bent over, one hand resting against the doorframe of Flourish and Blotts, the other clutching her full pregnancy bump.

'Shit!' Draco panicked. 'Shit! Shit!'

'Malfoy...' Potter sighed. 'Calm down. You're not helping...'

She had summoned Draco in emergency. He had, automatically, brought Potter along with him. Because they're both bloody joined at the hip, she thought snidely.

Harry bloody Potter was being annoying serene. He would be, she thought through gritted teeth. Fucking Saviour, Hero, Chosen One, fucking, fucking, fucking... 

She was stood in the street with her maternity trousers soaking wet and her waters pooling at her feet. Her new shoes were ruined, she thought despairingly before realising, with mortification, Potter was standing in it. She instantly hated his sturdy dragonhide Auror boots.

Why her?

Draco's voice was annoyingly high-pitched, 'why did she have to go and suggest I should be her birthing partner? She's knows I don't do female stuff...'

'I thought it would be funny,' she growled miserably.

He was pacing back and forth irritatingly.

'Draco!' Pansy puffed, her face unpleasantly sweating. 'I'm in the middle of fucking Diagon Alley, my waters have pissing broken, my boobs are leaking, I think I've shit myself, and you're the one bloody panicking, YOU MERLIN-FUCKING CUNT!' she screamed the last part as a contraction ripped through her. The pain was agonising.

'Yes, right, not about me... you need to breath, Pans...'

'Don't you dare tell me to fucking breath... tosser...'

'We're going to get you to St Mungo's, Pansy?' Potter was rubbing the small of her back in a gentle, soothing manner. She wanted to scream at him to go away with his fucking tender voice but she couldn't bear for him to stop. 'Do you need anything from the flat?' Potter asked in his stoically calm way.

'My baaggg...' she sobbed. 'In the hallway. All I wanted was a bloody book, something romantic... my bloody hormones...'

Potter took hold of her hand, pulling her away from the doorway. 'Okay, we can do this. Do you know how long between contractions?'

'NO I DON'T FUCKING KNOW...'

'Okay,' Potter said gently. 'Draco, start timing, they'll need to know at the hospital.'

Who knew the messy-haired twat would be so collected in an emergency? Well, if you ignored the whole death-danger-Voldemort thing and the current death-danger-Auror thing...

Another contraction gripped her and she howled, crushing Potter's hand in a vice-like hold.

The bastard didn't even flinch.

'Come on,' he said softly. 'Let's move you.'

'I CAN'T Apparate! Twat!' she snapped. Merlin, why are men such knobs?

'I know,' Potter said quietly.

She knew a pale-faced bookstore assistant was hovering in the doorway and people were gathering to spectate. 'GO AWAY!' she yelled. 'JUST FUCK OFF! I DON'T NEED AN AUDIENCE!'

'Draco,' Potter ordered. 'Come here and help.'

Normally, she would have teased her bestfriend mercilessly for the way he fell into line from a simple command by Potter but she was too busy trying to breath normally and quash the pain building inside her. She just wanted it all to be over.

'I hate men...' she moaned.

'To my car...' Potter said.

They'd barely taken three faltering steps but both Draco and Pansy stopped. It was enough to take her mind of what was happening for a few brief seconds.

Potter's beloved tangerine!

The shop assistant, who had rushed after them, took the opportunity to push a stack of books at Draco, saying timidly, 'for your wife.'

Pansy growled and Draco spluttered but Potter said thank you politely and pulled them both forward.

They made it through The Leaky Cauldron and out onto the street before the next contraction hit.

She panted like a dog, not caring about the inelegance.

'Malfoy! Here!' Potter called, and he lobbed his car keys through the air to Draco who caught them easily. Bloody tossing show off! 'You're driving...'

Draco's mouth was hanging open and Pansy snorted at that. 'Oh! Look at you!' it was hysterical. Even in the madness of it all, she registered the trust that Potter was showing in letting Draco drive his precious car. No one touched his bloody car.

'Really?' Draco questioned and, when Potter nodded, a huge happy smile spread across Draco's face. He looked like an adoring Labrador puppy, it was sickening.

'I know you secretly got your muggle driving licence,' Potter smiled wryly. 'You've been dying for a chance.'

Honestly, these fucking two. Was there anything they didn't know about each other?

'Don't you dare get a fucking scratch on her; if you do, I'll kill you!' Potter lead Pansy around the car and ushered her into the passenger seat which was pushed back as far as possible.

'Fucking tosser,' she moaned at him. 'It's too fucking low.' Men had no bloody idea. 'Why couldn't you get a sensible car?' She struggled in, then yelped, 'I can't!' as pain shot up her spine from the pressure and her stomach complained at being scrunched up. 'Hands and knees...' she panted, trying to twist around.

She was quite sure Potter's hands shouldn't be where they were but currently, she didn't care and she gripped the grey headrest, uncaring that it felt as if her nails would rip through the soft leather. The smell was nauseating.

'Draco, get her to St Mungo's safely! Pansy, don't get baby gunk on my car! I'll tell George and get the bag. I'll meet you there.'

'Hold on, Pans!' Draco grinned manically.

'YOU FUCKING PISS-WALLOPING WANKER!' she screeched like a banshee. 'This is supposed to be about me, not Potter's fucking car! Stop having fun ... OWWWWW!' she howled as Draco put his foot to the floor and left Potter standing in the street with a look of apprehension on his face.

'I want Potter back,' she moaned softly against the leather as Draco cut between the traffic with surprising smoothness.

*****