You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com


Defying Gravity by momoe

Format: Novel
Chapters: 26
Word Count: 122,943
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Strong Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Drama, Romance, Angst
Characters: Harry, Ginny, Teddy, Scorpius, Albus, James (II), Lily (II), Rose, Victoire, OC
Pairings: Other Pairing, Harry/Ginny, Rose/Scorpius, Teddy/Victoire, James/OC

First Published: 04/26/2008
Last Chapter: 12/20/2009
Last Updated: 12/20/2009

Summary:





Seventh year Gryffindor Prefect, Albus Potter, and his girlfriend, Nat, have found themselves in an unthinkable situation: expecting a baby.  Murphy's Law applied, the next nine months will be filled with hardships starting with a pretty major one: telling the parents.


Chapter 4: 04..Like Breathing Under Water






A/N: This chapter contains a bit of underage drinking at the beginning and some slightly graphic violence towards the end, so beware!




Defying Gravity
Chapter 4: Like Breathing Underwater



Final exams passed by way too quickly for Albus and Nat, but not quick enough for every other student at Hogwarts. The final night there had been a party in the common room. Once Professor Longbottom had sent the younger kids to bed, Bryce brought out a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhisky: Gold Label and spiked the punch.

Head Girl Rose Weasley turned a blind eye and continued sucking the face off of Scorpius. He gripped her hips and pulled her closer, and soon they were excusing themselves to the boys’ dormitory upstairs.

“Don’t borrow my bed, mate,” Albus said warningly, narrowing his eyes at his cousin and friend. Scorpius shrugged, a happy smile on his face, as his girlfriend dragged him up the stairs, heels clicking on the stones and hair flying behind her.

Albus turned to Nat, his smiling turned to a frown when he caught a glimpse of her pouted lips and sour expression. “We don’t snog anymore, Al,” she said to his questioning gaze.

In response, he snatched her hand and dragged her over his lap so he was lying beneath her. He reached up and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. Her crystal blue eyes were bright with unshed tears and he craned his neck to kiss her.

He captured the back of her neck and pulled her down in to a more comfortable position. Her mouth slanted over his, opening slightly. His tongue slid in, flicking the bottom of her teeth. The giggle she’d started turned in to a groan when his other hand slipped down her back to cup her bum.

They were having a lovely snog when someone tapped Albus impatiently on the shoulder. Reluctantly, he broke away from Nat to see Lily leaning over him, giving him a stern gaze.

“What do you want, Lily?” He said impatiently. “I’m busy.” As if to emphasize his point, he swatted Nat’s bum playfully, and she jumped, giggling.

“I can see that,” Lily’s eyebrows rose. “Are you sure that’s wise in your…situation.” Her voice lowered, and she nodded pointedly at Nat. Nat gulped, sitting up straight.

“Oh please, it took a lot more than snogging to get her in to that situation. Snogging won’t hurt anything.”

“But snogging can lead to shagging.”

“Shagging won’t hurt anything either, Lily,” Nat told her, frustrated. Not only did Lily’s eyes widen, but so did Albus’.

“It won’t?” he asked. Then waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Nat rolled her eyes and stood up.

“Forget it. I’m suddenly not in the mood. I will see you both tomorrow.” She fled the room, pushing past party-goers to get to the girls’ staircase, and Albus turned to Lily.

“Good going,” he muttered, sitting up and running a hand through his hair.

“I was only trying to help,” Lily told him, plopping in to Nat’s vacated seat, hair bobbing in its ponytail. In Albus’ opinion, her skirt was too short, her make-up too dark, and her top too tight. But he was okay as long as no one was looking at her like that. He sighed.

“Well thanks, but when we get home, no trying to help by telling mum and dad, got it? Or telling anyone for that matter.”

“I promise,” Lily’s eyes were wide and innocent, but the dark lines surrounding her eyes stomped that, and Albus frowned.

“Pinky swear?” He held out his pinky, his eyebrows raised. “The most holiest of swears?”

“Pinky swear!” They linked pinkies and then she hugged him tightly.

“Great. Now can you go ask her to meet me in my dorm in…ten minutes. I have to go make sure Rose and Scor aren’t shagging on my bed.”






The train ride to King’s Cross Station the next day went far too quickly for Albus and Nat, and way too slow for the rest of Hogwarts’ students. It was four in the afternoon when the Hogwarts Express pulled up to the platform.

Inside, in a small compartment near the very back, were two couples, each pair too totally engrossed in one another to even notice the other couple.

Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley were too busy talking quietly and gathering their things as the train slowed to a stop to even notice that both members of the other couple were silent, clasping each others’ hands as if their life depended on them staying linked.

Rose and Scorpius gathered their things and left the compartment. Albus stood, pulling Nat in to a standing position as well. They had to drop hands to grab trunks, but as soon as they were gotten, their hands were clasped again.

They moved slowly down the corridor, the last ones off the train minus the few stragglers and a first year whose trunk had popped open at the last minute. Albus disembarked the train first, helping Nat down after.

He saw his family. They were all waiting for him. All of them. Every single last Weasley/Potter/Lupin was there to pick up the school children and he groaned. Except for James, but that was to be expected.

Off to the side, near the barrier, was a tall man with thinning red hair in a tailored suit. He kept looking at his watch, and then glancing around. He had yet to see them. Albus nodded to him and Nat groaned.

“I was hoping he just wouldn’t show up,” she muttered, pushing blonde hair behind her ear.

Albus leaned down, wrapped his arms around her, and picked her up. She slid her arms around his neck, her face buried in his cloak. “I love you,” he whispered in to her ear. “Remember, alright? Floo if you need anything.”

He put her down, took one last look at his family, who were all staring at him, and her father, who had spotted them and was glaring at him, menacingly, before cupping her face and pressing his lips against hers.

She nipped at his bottom lip, wanting to deepen the kiss and get lost in him, but he reluctantly pulled away. “I love you,” he muttered again, kissing her forehead. He reached up and wiped a tear off of her cheek. She smiled.

“I love you, too, Al. So much,” she bit her lip to keep herself from crying again.

“See you in a few days, yeah? Two days is nothing.”

They parted ways, she went to her dad, who didn’t say anything to her, just led her off the platform, and he neared his entire family. His dad clapped him on the back. His mum kissed his cheek.

The group of them headed to the lot to the cars. Just as he was sliding on to the seat next to Lily, he heard from the car next to him, “So, Scorpius Malfoy, we have some rules in this house…”






The last twenty-four hours had been torture for Albus. He hadn’t spoken much on the ride home from the station, and that caused his mum to get worried. She’d tried to cheer him up by making him his favourite supper, but he’d merely picked at it.

“For goodness sakes, Albus, it’s two days. You will live without a snog for two days,” Ginny had told him, hands on her hips doing a rousing impression of his Grandmum Weasley, after he’d declined a plate of Treacle Tart, his favourite dessert.

He glared at her for a moment before stomping up the stairs to his room. He didn’t come out until lunch the next day when his mum informed him that they had already picked out a tree, without him, and that he’d better get downstairs and help decorate before he ruined Christmas for everyone.

“You have no idea, mum,” he had muttered, but obeyed like the good son he was.

Then, after the dirty work was done, he was informed that Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron, Rose, Scorpius, and Hugo were coming over for dinner that night. He groaned, but (without even being asked) pulled out the good china and washed off the dust that had collected since the last time the Potters had entertained.

So now he sat watching the telly, sandwiched between Rose and Scorpius, who, after an embarrassing incident with mistletoe, Rose’s bed, and a curious Uncle Ron, had been forbidden to sit next to each other.

Albus smirked at the story, thinking this night wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. If only he knew.






Albus once again sat between Rose and Scorpius, who (annoyingly to him) kept stealing glances at each other, while the nine of them watched the evening news. The newscaster was just signing off when his mum stood and asked about dessert.

“Plum pudding?” she asked him and he shrugged. His stomach was in knots. He was dreading the following evening, when he’d have to confront both his parents and her father and tell them how irresponsible he’d been. It may also have been the weird foreboding feeling that had been following him around all day like a stormy rain cloud over his head that could break open with a downpour at any moment.

His mum handed him a dish, and he picked at the food. He felt like he was going to throw up. After everyone was done, he offered to wash the dishes, the muggle way.

Rose stood to help, and Scorpius rose to follow, but Albus’ dad stopped him. “I think we need to have a nice, long chat.” He and Uncle Ron patted the seat between them, beckoning him forward.

Scorpius shot Albus a pleading look, but all Albus could do was shrug pathetically before pushing his way in to the kitchen. Rose was right behind him, and she set bowls in the sink before turning to him. She turned the water on, for less a chance of them being overheard, and gazed sympathetically.

“Are you alright?” He bit his lip and shook his head, tears springing to his eyes. He groaned and pressed the heels of his palms in to his eyes, cursing the fact that he had to be the emotional Potter. Even Lily had a stronger backbone than him.

“I’m terrified,” he whispered, and she threw her arms around him. “They’re going to be so disappointed. I half wish her dad kills me. Then I won’t have to see how they look at me, disappointedly, for the rest of my life.”

“It’s like you told Nat. They will be angry at first. But they love you. They won’t abandon you in your time of need. If that’s what parents did, there would be homeless children everywhere.”

“I know. I kind of just want it to be over with.” They washed in silence for a moment before Albus nudged her shoulder.

“You got caught with Scor…in your room?”

“Don’t sound so scandalized,” she muttered, her neck heating up as the focus shifted to her. The famous Weasley blush turned the tips of her ears bright red and she tried to cover them with her red hair.

“You’re Head Girl. Prim and proper, just like your mum.” He scrubbed excess filling off a plate and put it in the opposite sink for her to rinse.

“I’m not as bad as she was, according to Uncle Harry. For one, I have a boyfriend.” Rose shook the excess water off the plate and dried it with a towel, adding it to the stack she had already started.

“So, now that Scorpius has corrupted our bossy little know-it-all, what happened?” She laughed and threw the sponge in to the soapy water, splashing it down his front. He muttered a quick drying charm while aiming his wand at the spot, and then he stuck his tongue out at her.

“Last night – ”

“A boy in your room at night? It is scandalous.”

“ – he came to my room looking for something to read,” she continued on while giving him a look, and he shut his mouth. “Mum was watching some documentary and Hugo was playing chess with my dad, so he didn’t have anything to do. Well, a piece of mistletoe followed him up to my room. And you know it’s every girls’ dream to snog her boyfriend on her bed. Shag ‘em, if possible – ”

“Rosie! I’m shocked!”

“I didn’t shag him there, and stop interrupting! Anyway, the kiss got pretty heated, and we ended up on my bed. Well, I was kind of…er…straddling him…and he was kind of…feeling me up a bit…and then my dad walked in – see Scor was supposed to play the winner next and my dad wanted to let him know that Hugo won – and dad flipped out. I mean, I’m surprised you didn’t hear him yelling, it was so loud.”

“I can imagine, finding your daughter on her boyfriend’s lap with his hands on her arse, not to mention his tongue down her throat and wherever her hands are…” Albus’ mind flashed him an image of a little girl with black hair and crystal blue eyes and he shivered.

“So dad forbade either of us from being in the same room alone together, which is probably why he made him stay in the sitting room instead of helping. Didn’t want you sneaking off to skulk about your missing beau.”

“What did Aunt Hermione say?” He wondered, drying a bowl and handing it to her.

“Nothing in front of my dad. But afterwards, she pulled me aside and made sure I had turned in the galleons to re-up on my birth control potion. See, dad doesn’t know I’m on it or anything. My mum doesn’t want him to know the me and Scor are…intimate.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s figured something out after last night. Your dad’s not completely daft.”

“You’d be surprised.”






“What the hell is your problem?” Kevin Long kicked the door to the bathroom open and saw his daughter hugging the toilet. “Have you been drinking?”

“No,” she moaned, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and pushing herself off the blue tiled floor into a standing position. The yellow paint on the walls was peeling and there was a large crack down the wall across from the toilet. She moved to the sink and rinsed out her mouth.

“Then why the hell have you been puking all day?” He spat angrily. She hadn’t been drinking, but she could sure tell he had been. His breath reeked of Firewhisky and ale and something minty.

“I’m sick. It’s probably the flu.”

She walked down the hall and in to her room. She smiled sadly at the pale pink painted walls and mismatched furniture she’d called hers for the past seventeen years. The surfaces were bare, her bed stripped to the mattress. There was a single poster on the wall, of the Holyhead Harpies the year Ginny Weasley had been Chaser, and she pulled that down and rolled it up quickly.

It was autographed by the whole team, a gift from Albus during third year. He hadn’t wanted it anymore, as he saw him mum every day, and the picture was rather old. Ginny couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. The entire team was smiling and waving, laughing…Nat’s stomach clinched painfully.

She shook off the nausea and shrunk the poster before shoving it in to an empty corner of her trunk. She had packed all of her things up in to duffel bags and shrunken them to fit in to her trunk. She decided after the first round of “slut, tart, whore” when she’d gotten home, that she wasn’t going to take his crap anymore.

“Where are you going?” Spittle flew everywhere when her father spoke, and she wiped a glob off of her cheek. He was sweating, a side-affect from the alcohol he’d undoubtedly consumed, his dark hair was matted to his forehead and beads of sweat were sliding down his face. He was barefooted and bare-chested, and squeezed into a pair of too-small jeans, his belly hanging over the waist.

“Albus’,” She told him, her stance defiant. He had a wild glint in his eye and she almost wished she had waited until he had passed out and then left. But she needed to leave then, while she still had the nerve.

“Oh no you’re not,” he held up a hand as if he were going to hit her. “You’ve spent enough time there this summer, you little whore. No wonder he’s so fond of you. You give it up too easily.”

Tears sprung to her eyes but she refused to give in, and she levitated her trunk down the stairs and in to the kitchen. Sure enough, an empty bottle of firewhisky sat next to an equally empty glass on the otherwise empty kitchen table.

Nat dragged her trunk to the fireplace, but was forcefully pulled back. She ended up dropping the trunk and tripping over it, falling to her knees on the hard floor.

Kevin grabbed her arm and pulled her in to a standing position, poised and ready to hit her, but she flinched and yelled, “I’m pregnant!”

He reeled back, as if he’d been struck, and stared at her wide eyed. His face contorted into a sneer, and he laughed, manically. He pushed her backwards. She spun around to catch herself, her leg going crooked and getting stuck underneath the edge of her trunk.

She felt herself falling over her trunk and she used her hands to brace herself. The edge of the brick fireplace caught right below her left eyebrow, and she heard a definite ‘crack’ when her hand it the hearth.

She stood as quickly as she could, afraid of what he’d do next, but he stood there, eyes narrowed, shaking his head. “You are a whore,” he spat. “Just like your mother. Get outta here. Don’t come back.”

Then he turned and strode out of the kitchen, probably in search of more alcohol. Nat picked up her trunk with her good hand and tried to put pressure on her foot.

Pain surged through her leg and arm at the same time and she became dizzy from it. The room started spinning and she limped to the fireplace, dragging her trunk along behind her as best she could.

She flooed out, her good hand clutching the trunk handle, and prayed that she’d said the words clearly enough to get to the right place.






Albus wandered in to the kitchen after he’d lost a round of chess to Hugo. His parents, aunt and uncle sat around the table, drinking tea and talking loudly. His mum was giggling at something obviously funny that Aunt Hermione had said—which was odd, because Aunt Hermione was not funny in the slightest—and Albus narrowed his eyes and lifted her tea cup to his nose, sniffing.

Ah, she had an accomplice. Brandy.

“Is Hugo almost done destroying you guys?” Uncle Ron asked him and he shrugged, shoving his hands in to his trouser pockets.

“He’s playing Scorpius now,” Albus muttered, leaning against the counter near the sink.

Rose wandered in a moment later, sipping her own cup of tea and Albus sniffed that one, too.

“It’s honey and sugar,” she muttered, her ears pinkening. “Paranoid much?”

Albus was about to retort when the fireplace roared green. His dad leapt to his feet, wand in hand, when Albus saw a familiar head of blonde hair fall unsteadily out of the fireplace.

“Nat!” He cried, catching her as she came off balance from lugging in her heavy trunk. Her hair fell away from her face as she slumped into his arms, exposing a trickle of blood from the corner of her eyebrow down to her ear and neck, dipping below the neckline of a white jumper. “You’re bleeding!”

“Oh dear. Harry, get my healing kit,” Ginny demanded.

“Look at her wrist!” Ron wailed, pointing at the wrist she had fallen on. It was dark purple and swollen. Hermione jumped up to help.

“What happened?” Albus asked, helping her to a seat at the table and then kneeling down next to her.

“Let’s get her healed first, honey,” Ginny muttered, pushing her hair back to get a look at the cut near her eye. Then, ignoring her own directions, asked, “Did you fall?”

“Tripped over my trunk,” Nat mumbled, glancing at all of the people in the room. Hugo, Lily, and Scorpius had come in wondering what all of the commotion was about. The large kitchen was full of people and Nat shrank back into the wooden chair.

Rose stood off to the side, her face white as a sheet. She was scared for her friend, the fact that she showed up battered and bleeding a day too early. Albus had become pale as well, and Nat didn’t look good either way. Scorpius reached down and threaded his fingers with Rose’s; she smiled at him, gratefully.

Ginny applied a healing charm to her eye and had her drink a potion for the swelling of her wrist. “Does anything else hurt?” Nat cringed as Hermione wiped the blood off of her face.

“My ankle,” Nat whispered, lifting her right foot. Ginny pushed up the leg of Nat’s jeans and gingerly slid her shoe and sock off of the swollen area.

“Honey, it doesn’t look like you tripped. Are you sure that’s what happened?”

It was Ginny’s kind eyes that did her in. The brown orbs penetrated Nat to her very core, and tears began forming in the corners of her eyes and then falling down her cheeks. She turned her head to Albus, who, while squatting next to her chair, was nearly eye level with her.

“Dad pushed me,” she said firmly, turning her head to look Ginny in the eyes. “See, he found out that I’m pregnant...”

http://www.harrypotterfanfiction.com