Persephone stared at the sheet of parchment in front of her, tears welling up. She was pregnant. She smiled happily and collected herself, as she folded the parchment and walked briskly to the front room, where Tom was having a last minute meeting with the rest of the death eaters. She never usually interrupted these meetings, unless it was important. So she hardly interrupted at all. She walked to Tom’s chair, and lightly put a hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to acknowledge her. He looked at her, his cold red gaze softening slightly, and he said, “Yes Persephone?” Persephone silently passed him the parchment, and watched as he unfolded it, reading it. His eyes widened slightly, before he composed himself. He looked up at her, and said, “You’re to stay here. I promise you, the battle will be over quick, and I shall be victorious. And I will come home to you.”
To others, his voice was cold and harsh, but Persephone heard the hidden softness in his tone. She smiled and nodded.
“I’ll hold you to it, my love,” Persephone murmured, before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, before taking the parchment back and leaving the room to go back to their chambers. She began to gather hers and Tom’s belongings, remembering how they discussed and agreed on disappearing after the war. She was humming with happiness, and she heard Tom whisper through their bond, “I’ll be home soon, my darling. Wait for me.”
+ + +
And Persephone waited. And waited. And she waited more, until she went to the front room to change the scenery, and she saw Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius walk in. She couldn’t see Tom, though her eyes sparkled as she asked, “You won?”
Draco and his parents startled, and Draco looked guilty, as he said, “No. We didn’t. The Dark Lord was defeated by Potter.”
Persephone froze, and she felt her heart sink as her blood ran cold. Tom, dead? Her Tom? No, this couldn’t be. Yet when she reached out through their bond, she was pained to feel it cold, without a connection to find. It was true then. Persephone sank to her knees, her hand finding her belly, as a sob escaped her. She was alone. She would never feel his gentle kisses and his loving embrace again, and she would raise their child alone. She cried, burying her face in her hands as she leaned forward, her forehead touching the floor as she sobbed. She never wanted to die more than she did now, yet a soft, cool breeze brushed over her, even though there were no drafts or open doors or windows. She forced herself to find her composure, as she sniffled and wiped tears from her cheeks.
“Are you okay? Why were you holding your stomach? Are you in pain?” Draco had rushed to her side in those moments, and was asking her questions as he helped her up. She glanced at Narcissa who held a look of worry, concern, knowing, and terror.
“I’m..I’m fine, Draco, you’ve no need to worry. I’m alright.” Persephone replied, her voice faint, as she went back to her and Tom’s chambers. She hated this, she wanted her husband, desperately. Yet as the reality of the situation sank in, she knew she would never have her husband ever again. Not in this life at least. She barely registered the soft knock on the door, before Narcissa walked in.
“You’re pregnant.” It wasn’t a question; she clearly knew everything from the scene earlier.
“I am,” Persephone replied after a moment’s hesitation. Her eyes met Narcissa’s grey blue ones, and she looked away upon seeing the fear in them.
“My child will not have the upbringing he did. My child will be brought up with love and safety,” Persephone answered Narcissa’s unspoken question with a determined confidence that wasn’t there before then.
For now, she had to disappear or face the consequences of a possible Ministry raid on the manor and the risks of being found. She knew her brother, if he found out, she would be put in Azkaban so fast it would make her head spin. Her child, once born, if it survived, would be taken from her. She couldn’t have that.