'Luna, what's wrong? Luna!'
'Draco, I – I – ' She clapped her hand over her mouth, her face white as the milk in the jug on their breakfast table. Then, as he shoved his chair back and made a sharp movement towards her, she twisted from her chair and ran for the bathroom.
He followed, to find her being desperately sick, clutching herself, and he grasped her shoulders to steady her as she retched. She was trembling all over, and he was feeling panicky. What was wrong with her? What was he supposed to do?
'Tripsy!' he barked, helplessly, and the little bright-eyed house-elf appeared with a crack.
She took in the situation in a blink. 'Oh, Mistress Luna,' she crooned. 'Oh, poor Mistress… let Tripsy help…'
In a few seconds she had snapped her knobbly fingers and vanished the mess, then pulled a warm damp cloth from the air. Draco snatched it and turned Luna gently around.
She was shaking and sagging, tears running down her face, and she looked terrible, but that did not particularly occur to him. He just knew that she was sick, and in trouble, and needed help; and he loved her, so he gently wiped her face – damp forehead and wet eyes and pinched mouth – and held her tight in the crook of his arm.
Why on earth, he wondered distractedly, was Tripsy beaming like that?
'Oh, Master Draco – oh, Mistress! Tripsy is so happy, so happy she could turn nose-around-heels. Tripsy does congratulate you, indeed she does…'
Draco looked slowly, very slowly down to meet Luna's wide, astonished grey eyes. They both turned to look at Tripsy in the same instant.
'Do the test, the test charm, Master! But Tripsy knows!'
'The test charm…' said Draco hazily. 'Oh. The test. That test!'
He drew his wand. 'Germinius Revelio!'
A soft, opalescent mist drifted from the tip and over Luna, gathering around the region of her stomach. He counted silently, one-two-three-four-five, and the mist began to change colour, turning a soft new-leaf green.
It was – positive.
'We're – having a baby,' Luna whispered, wonderingly, and her face seemed suddenly awash with brightness.
'We are,' Draco breathed. 'A baby.' He reached out his hands to clasp hers.
And Tripsy, out of sight, turned nose-around-heels all the way back to the kitchen.