Swallowing the strange stickiness in his throat, Draco glanced away from his wife before reluctantly turning his face towards her. But his eyes did not meet hers. His square hand rested on her thigh gently.
"It's going to be okay." His fingers squeezed slightly. And there his mind went, ticking away, calculating the numbers, the probabilities, possible outcomes, methods of action... just the way his mind started ticking when he was pulled out of the everyday paperwork of his office and given a real project to work on. "I will help you." His voice sounded vague and distant, almost dreamy.
No magic.
What was it like, to have no magic?
In all honesty, Draco just couldn't believe that this was permanent. And although he was worried, inside, it was that unshakable belief that allowed him assess the situation so... calmly.
"Parvati." In the history of Parvati and Draco, there had been a myriad of emotions filling the rooms they inhabited. All sorts of combinations of passion, rage, sadness, sparking against one another. But this room, this day, was full of something strange and completely foreign. Something that could not be likened to anything else.
Draco's eyes remained off of his wife's form. His hand slid from her thigh and grabbed for hers.
"You're worried about what I think." He squinted slightly. His tone was neither abrasive nor indulgent. It wasn't even raw with emotion. It was oddly simple. "And I'll be honest. You know how I feel about magic. You know what's important to my family name. To me." She felt so frail beside him.