The atmosphere in the kitchen was- tense. To start, the kitchen itself was a rather curious one. All the shelves were curved to align with the curved walls. In fact, the room was nearly perfectly circular. A number of curious items were scattered around, such as the teapot shaped like an Occamy egg, several copies of The Quibbler, vials full of shiny, luminescent potions, and a bust of Rowena Ravenclaw with a hand made diadem on her head. Soft snores could be heard from upstairs, accompanied by gentle humming and a faint swiping sound.

The kitchen held two occupants at the moment. One was a blond witch, who was looking intently at the other occupant. Her blue eyes were dull, and her usual airy and dreamy aura no longer radiated from her. She seemed very apprehensive, and miserable. Her lower lip quivered uncontrollably, and a tear slipped from her eye and down her left cheek, staining her pale skin a shade darker. She hurriedly wiped it away. She didn't want to break down before she had even said anything.

The other occupant was not aware of her presence. He couldn't be blamed, really, his wife had been very quiet while climbing down the stairs. He continued to stare out the window while he polished his broom, staring at the stars that dotted the sky. He seemed to be in high spirits, he let off an aura of glee and love. It was a love for someone not yet here, yet it was so strong and pure that anyone around him would smile. Except the blond witch. His composure only added more guilt to her already suffocated lungs.

"Blaise?"

The dark skinned wizard turned around, smiling brightly at his wife. However, on sighting his wife's state, the smile vanished, "Luna, is everything okay? Is it the baby? Are you feeling nauseous, do you need tea?"

Luna took in a shuddering breath. She didn't know what to say. Was it about the baby? It was. It most definitely was. Only she didn't know how to approach the topic. She closed her eyes and wished for herself to be sucked into the earth or disappear. Perhaps the Occamy egg teapot would turn to be an actually egg and the creature would burst forth any moment. Any distraction was welcome. When she opened her eyes, she found him looking at her solemnly.

"Blaise," her face crumpled before his eyes, her hand flew to her mouth and she sobbed without restraint. The teapot remained a teapot.

Blaise was dumbstruck. To see someone who was always herself, strong and whimsical and beautiful and one of her kind, break down like this, was actually terrifying. 

"Luna, what's happened?" Blaise drooped his broom and polish and made his way to her. He enveloped her in his strong arms, and stroked her hair as she cried, whispering sweet nothings and soothing words. Luna fisted the material of his shirt.

"I don't want this, Blaise," Luna said in a voice muffled by his shirt, "I can't."

"What do you mean?" Blaise knitted his eyebrows together, and stopped stroking her hair. The hurt hit her heart with a pang.

"I'm sorry, I- I know that you want this," Luna sobbed, "I know how much you want a family, this child. But I can't, Blaise, not when I'm at the peak of my work, I can't throw all of it away, I can't discard my work and give everything up, it's what I've worked for my entire life, I can't-"

"Stop," Blaise growled, releasing her as though her skin stung him, "stop it. You're being selfish."

Luna pulled away to look up at him. She saw the hurt, the betrayal, etched on every feature of his face. She felt guilt stab at her insides.

"You want to give up our child," Blaise pointed a finger accusingly at her, "so that you can excel in your fucking job. What is more important, Luna? The life of our child, or your work?"

"I'm just not ready, Blaise, why don't you understand?" Luna beseeched, "I'm not ready to start a family and take care of it, I can't give up my childhood dream, why can't you understand that?"

"Why can't you understand the weight of what you're saying?" Blaise was shouting now, "Do you even know what you're saying?"

"Blaise, Rolf and I are on the verge of-"

"Rolf?" the walls rattled as his voice boomed through it, "Keep that tosser out of this! He has no part in this whatsoever, so keep it that way for fuck's sake! Who's more important? Rolf Scamander or me?"

"Stop shouting," Luna said in a quiet, yet stern voice, "try and understand my position, Blaise. Do you think that if you were in my place, you'd give everything up as well? This is not what I wanted, not yet!"

"It doesn't matter!" Luna's admonition was blatantly ignored as Blaise contained railing, "The child, does its life not have any value to you? Or is the child like another magical creature to you, which you can research and leave whenever you want? Merlin knows you may even leave me when you want, bu-"

"Stop it," Luna said through gritted teeth, "if I truly mattered to you you would try to understand things from my point of view."

"Luna?"

Luna and Blaise turned to the stairs from where Xenophelius Lovegood's voice sounded.

"Blaise? Was that you I heard yelling?"

"Everything's okay, father," Luna struggled to keep her voice from breaking, "he got a little... c-carried away, is all."

"Are you sure, maybe I can-"

"No, father, thank you," Luna said firmly. Blaise was seething at her. They waited for  Xenophelius's steps to fade away. Luna cast a silencing charm so that he wouldn't be disturbed.

"If this is how less our family means to you," Blaise said through his clenched jaw, "if your work is more important to you than this, then I- I think it's best if we-"

"Blaise, please," Luna pleaded.

"It's best if we go our separate ways," Blaise said definitively, "I hope you regret your choice, but when you come running back, I won't be there for you."

"No, please, Blaise, wait," Luna reached out to hold his arm, but he jerked away roughly. Hurt, drenched with Fear and Loss, settled over her heart like an unneeded scarecrow.

"Goodbye," with a crack of apparation, Blaise left. 

Luna sank to the floor, her hand resting on her slightly swollen stomach. She cried and cried until she could cry no more.

-----

There was a knock on the door. Hermione and Draco both turned sharply towards it, letting go of each other's hands to draw their wands out.

"Hermione, are you home?"

Hermione gaped at the door, "Blaise? What on earth- what are you doing here?" 

Draco gathered up the letters at lightning speed and rushed to his room. Hermione warded his door, then stalked to the front door and yanked it open, ready to reprimand him for being out this late.

Blaise stood with his shoulders slumped, his eyes wide with shock or grief, Hermione couldn't tell. His shirt was untucked, his hair dishevelled, his shoes muddy. 

"Hermione," his voice sounded choked and broken. He stumbled in and Hermione watched in horror as he broke down.

Blaise sank to the floor and let out an agonised cry. Hermione hastily shut the door and sat down beside him.

"Blaise, what- what happened?" Hermione wrapped an arm around his shoulder to stop him from shaking so much. He was in no fit state to speak. Hermione held him as he shuddered and sobbed and cried. He clawed at his chest, as though he was being suffocated. His sobs rattled the walls of the house.

"Blaise, hush now, whatever this is, we'll fix it," Hermione tried reassuring him. He shook his head slowly.

"You c-can't fix this," Blaise sobbed, "gone, everything's gone. I've lost her."

Hermione waited for him to calm down. He cried for some more time, and she rubbed soothing circles on his back as he did so. 

"Come on, let's get you something to drink," Hermione helped him stand, and they walked to the kitchen. He sat down unceremoniously on one of the chairs and covered his face in his hands. Hermione quickly filled a glass with water, added a few drops of calming draught to it, and handed it to him.

"I don't want it," Blaise croaked and pushed it away, "firewhiskey."

"Most definitely not," Hermione admonished, "drink this now. Don't you dare touch any alcohol."

Blaise grumbled and downed his glass of water. 

"What did you put in it?" Blaise grimaced in distaste.

"Calming draught," Hermione answered, "take your time, Blaise. Stay here tonight if you want, I'll make the arrangements. If you want to talk, I'm here, as are everyone else."

"Luna," Blaise said dully, "Luna doesn't want the child. Said her work is more important. She doesn't want a family with me."

Hermione furrowed her brows. That didn't sound right at all. Luna would never do that.

"You should sleep now," Hermione said gently, "don't overstrain yourself. We'll speak in the morning."

"I'm not staying here," Blaise shook his head.

"Where will you go?" Hermione asked.

"I'll get a place, s-somewhere, you needn't worry," Blaise didn't sound as though he was speaking consciously, "I'll stay at the Leaky Cauldron for tonight, then I'll get a place."

"How do I know you won't go around drinking?" Hermione asked sternly, "Looking at your present state, I don't you can resist the urge to down a few pints of firewhiskey."

"Can I please have some?" Blaise pleaded.

"No," Hermione said sternly, "you're staying here tonight and that's the end of it. I'll set up a bed in the living room."

With that Hermione walked off, leaving Blaise for a while. She conjured up a bed in the living room, and moved the couches to the side. She got one of her blankets for him to use and placed it on the bed. 

"You can go sleep," Hermione said to Blaise when she went back to the kitchen, "remember, I'll be watching so I'll know if you try to consume any alcohol."

"Thank you, Hermione," Blaise said pathetically. He collapsed on the bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

Hermione tucked the blanket in around him snugly, took his shoes off, and set them on the floor beside the bed. She sighed and walked to Draco's room.

"What happened to him?" Draco asked the moment she had cast a silencing charm on the room. He looked just about ready to barge through the door and talk to Blaise.

"He said he's 'lost Luna'," Hermione said, "he said Luna doesn't want the child. It's not right, I don't know what happened."

"Luna said that?" Draco's face hardened.

"I don't know, I don't think she did," Hermione said exasperatedly, "she'd never say something like that, I'm sure there's an explanation."

"Where will Blaise stay tomorrow?" Draco sounded genuinely concerned, he looked at her with his eyebrows knitted together, "We both will be gone, and probably won't be back until late."

"I'll have to think about a solution tomorrow," Hermione muttered, "I really hope they haven't, you know…"

"Seperated?" Draco scoffed. It seemed the most obvious thing.

"I hope not," Hermione sighed again.

Draco watched as she fretted over her friends' lives. He knew why Blaise came to her. Out of all the people of their motley gang, Hermione was the most caring, not to mention understanding, and she would give anyone a shoulder to cry on. 

He didn't know if that was good or bad, but he was grateful for it at the moment. To hear Blaise crying like that had hurt him in unexpected ways. He was ready to even go and confront Luna. He couldn't, of course. But that didn't mean he didn't want to.

Hermione left after giving him a glance. Draco inclined his head in a way of wishing her a good night's sleep. The door clicked close.