You are viewing a story from

Table for Four by TheSmexyOC

Format: Novel
Chapters: 10
Word Count: 18,895
Status: Abandoned

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

Genres: Drama, Romance, Young Adult
Characters: Albus, James (II), Lily (II), Rose, OC
Pairings: James/OC, Rose/Scorpius, Teddy/Victoire, OC/OC

First Published: 01/05/2012
Last Chapter: 03/27/2012
Last Updated: 03/27/2012


This type of thing doesn't happen to me! I'm Isobel Olivier, for Merlin's sake. A Prefect! A role model! A good girl! And if I had to go and get pregnant, why did it have to be with James Potter, the hugest player in the school?!

Banner by the magnificent and talented panacea. @ TDA!

Chapter 1: Chapter I
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

                Disclaimer: Any towns, schools and characters you recognize from the Harry Potter series do not belong to me.


Over. That’s what my life is going to be. At 16 years old, my life having hardly begun, I know that I am totally screwed. Shit. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew that I should have gone to have coffee with Alicia and Maeve instead of to the pharmacy to buy the white stick of DOOM that now sits in my hand. The very same stick that is now claiming I am pregnant, for God’s sake. Pregnant.

                Feh. What does the stupid stick know? It’s just a stick.

                I step out of the bathroom stall, stepping over a wad of toilet paper and over to the mirror. I don’t look any different, other than my now mammoth boobs. But I feel- well, I feel fat. Bloated. Like I’d been eating cookie dough ice cream or drank a whole carton of eggnog. Yet I didn’t look any fatter- I could still fit into a size two shirt. I grabbed two bunches of my wavy blonde hair and pulled them down over the front of my shirt. Every girls dream cup size was now my nightmare. What if people noticed and put the pieces together, just as I had? No one had seen me vomit in the mornings, or seen me fend off all my favorite foods and scarf down the things I hated. But it was only a matter of time before I got a baby bump.

                Swallowing hard, I opened the door a crack and peered out. The corridor was completely deserted. I shut the door, breathing hard. It was finally sinking in. No more excuses of a stomach bug I must have caught from helping Madame DeMaglio in the infirmary. No more telling myself I had probably developed new taste buds and was now loving spaghetti and meatballs. No more sudden growth spurt theories for my breasts growing. This was really happening. I was really pregnant. This doesn’t happen to people like me- I’m Isobel Olivier, for God’s sake! I’m a prefect! I’ve never gotten a lower grade than an ‘E,’ and that was because I had a migraine in the middle of class and missed part of a lecture. I’m practically the poster child for ‘Over-Achiever.’

                I sank to the floor, resting my head on my knees like I was a child again. Hell, aren’t I still supposed to be a child? I’m not 17 yet. I’m not an adult. There’s no fucking way I can raise a child while going to school to be a Healer- I probably won’t even be able to finish Hogwarts with a child. I have yet to even have a proper boyfriend!

                I groan. In the midst of this, I had very nearly forgotten something I wouldn’t mind forgetting- this baby’s father. Too famous for his own good, the official player-of-women, and, of course, player of Quidditch…

                James Sirius Potter himself.




                It was a month into the school year when IT happened.

                IT was, shall we say, the mistake of the century. My friend Maeve (yes, I love her, but she has a bit of a slutty reputation) had gotten Alicia and I into the first party of the year- hosted by the Potter/Weasley’s themselves. Maeve had told us earlier that day that she had gotten Robby Williamson to get us an invite, and then winked and walked away (hence, she once again demonstrates why she has a sex kitty reputation). Of course, ‘Lish and I were thrilled, seeing as we almost never get to go to these parties. So, we spent all our classes passing notes about what to wear, who to dance with, who to flirt with, and, most importantly, whether we drink or not.

                Alicia, shall we say, had been raised by very strict parents, and the second the subject of alcohol came up, the first word she wrote down was “NO.” But me, being the idiot I am, could only think “I’ve been a good girl. I’ve said no in the past. But I’m a sixth year, and I’m going to enjoy myself.”  So when I told Alicia and Maeve I would be drinking, Alicia called me an idiot and stormed out of our dorm while Maeve congratulated me on my newly found “independence.”

                So really, if I want to blame someone, it can be Maeve for egging me on.

                Anyways, when we arrived at the party (fashionably late, as Maeve advised) everything was in full swing. The Room of Requirement was blasting with music, people were making out in the corners of the room, having chugging contests over by the kegs, grinding against each other and trying to shout flirty phrases to others over the music. Alicia and Maeve were already in full party mode, and shot off to the dance floor- I, on the other hand, stepped over to the kegs… and everything from then on is somewhat fuzzy.

                I remember not being able to work the keg, and embarrassedly pretending I had something in my glass and lifting it to my lips. I remember a handsome, smiling older boy help me fill one glass…two…three…four… until not only was I drunk on excitement, but on wonderful liquor that burned my throat and warmed my head. I pulled him onto the dance floor, and then we were kissing, and then we were on a bed, and then my clothes were on the floor and then- it was bright outside the window, I was naked, and my arms were around James Potter.

                My head was killing me. I pushed the sleeping James’s arms off me, wriggled into last night’s tube dress, picked up my black pumps and stumbled out the door, over half naked bodies on the floor, out the door, up the stairs and into the safety of the Ravenclaw common room, where I promptly lay down on the couch and fell asleep.

                And that is how IT all happened. And now, one month later, I sorely regret it all.


Chapter 2: Chapter II
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: Anything from Hogwarts and all characters/towns you recognize from the Harry Potter books belong to JK Rowling.


“Are you going to eat your sausage?” Alicia asks hopefully. I turn my glare from my plate to Alicia’s slightly puffy face. When we met in our first year, she was as short as an eight year old and the skinniest girl in our year. But ever since third year when she realized that you could eat as much as you want at breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert, sh’se definitely rounded out in the middle- and her cheeks haven’t been spared from the third helpings of sponge cake and trifle.

                “I guess not,” I sigh, handing her my plate. She shovels the links of meat onto her half emptied plate. Bile rises in my throat as she begins to cut them.

                Alicia glances up from her food. “You know, Iz, you’ve been acting a little weird lately. Ever since that trip to Hogsmeade a few days ago, you’ve just been acting… I dunno. Different, I guess.” She turns away, staring into space for a moment before leaning in and whispering, “It’s not your time of the month, is it? ‘Cause I know Maeve has some PMS pills you can take that’ll make you feel better.”

                I stifle a mirthless laugh. Oh, if only my troubles were as easy as a bottle of pills. I breathe in sharply. They could be fixed in a bottle of pills… or in a shot. An abortion would…

                No. An abortion wasn’t the solution. It would only kill an innocent child. And it would haunt me for years, knowing that my first baby had died before it even had a chance at life. And besides, didn’t I need to have the father’s consent for an abortion? I really needed to start looking some of this stuff up if I was going to have a baby. Adoption was most likely out of the question, seeing as there weren’t any wizarding adoption agencies that I know of. I could give the baby to my cousin, Alexis, seeing as she was found infertile last May. How was it that my happily married and well off financially cousin couldn’t have a baby, while I could conceive a child the first time I ever had sex? She’s ready. I’m not.

                I now know what they mean when they say “life isn’t fair.”

                “Hey guys,” Maeve says, plopping down between Alicia and I and shaking me from my thoughts. “You are never going to believe what just happened!”

                “What?” Alicia says. A piece of sausage skin hangs from her mouth, smeared with her red lip gloss. My stomach churns. I push myself away from the table, walking as quickly as I can to the entrance of the Great Hall. Not fast enough. The vomit comes, rapid and rushing, it’s rancid smell filling my nose. A couple girls at a table nearby squeal and shout “Ew!” I cover my mouth with my hand, breathing hard. A few people around me give me disgusted looks. The other half of the room is completely oblivious to what just happened. I stumble out the door, hand still over my mouth. I need a bathroom. My stomach is still heaving. I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on keeping it down, and start to jog along the corridor outside the Great Hall. Where the hell is the bathroom?

                Suddenly I hit something warm. And solid. Oh shit, who did I crash into? I peer up into warm amber eyes and a lopsided smile. “You alright, Isobel?”

                Yup. Of all people, I crashed into James fucking Potter. I pull away from him and trip a few steps up the hall.

                “Isobel?” he says, steadying me by grabbing my shoulders. He turns me to face him. “Are you okay? You look sort of sick.”

                How observant of him to notice.

                “I’m fine, thanks very much,” I snap. “I’m just on my way to the loo to reapply my…” I look around for inspiration. A sparrow flutters by the window. It’s wings are brown, much like Maeve’s favorite coat. “To reapply my jacket,” I say. Damn, that makes me sound mad. “I mean, my mascara. And it’s, erm, in my jacket. Now, if you please,” I tug out of his gentle hands. “It’s a girls loo. And you,” I look him up and down, “are clearly not a girl.” I turn away, and begin my march down the long corridor.

                “Clearly,” he says with an amused smile. “And you, Isobel Olivier, are one of the few who know for sure.”

                My pale cheeks grow pink. I spin around sharply. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say loftily. I turn on my heel and walk away, ducking into the safety of the girls toilet. Where the hell has James been this past month? And why is he always so damn friendly, even when he knows what we did together was a drunken mistake? I’m embarrassed about it, but no, James Potter could care less.

                Hah. Who needs him? I can raise a baby without a dad. My mom did it, I can do it. I grab a compact mirror out of my bag, glance at my mouth to make sure there’s no sick on it, and swing out the bathroom door.

                 The corridor is as empty as it was before, and the chatter from the Great Hall is much quieter. I glance at the Great Hall, where I should be going now so I can get my bag before my classes start. I spin around and walk in the other direction.

                Who needs classes, anyway? It’s not like I can become a Healer anymore.




                Throughout the six years I’ve been at Hogwarts, the library has become my sanctuary. Regardless of the prying eyes of our librarian and couples snogging behind bookshelves, there are comfortable corners where you can sit for hours without anyone noticing you’re there. And that’s exactly where I’m going today- no classes, no questions from ‘Lish and Maeve, asking why I threw up, no tedious homework assignments or notes I need to take. Just me, in my corner of the library, with a good book and a grilled cheese sandwich.

                I plunk down and open to the dog-eared page of my muggle book. My brother, Devin, sent it to me from America, where he’s working right now. I trace a heart on the page with my index finger. What would Devin do if he knew I was pregnant? Fly home in a muggle death trap and kick James’s sorry ass, most likely.

                I sighed. This epically sucked. It would kill Devin when he knew. It would kill my mom. It would kill my grandparents. I was screwed.

                I stare at the page, not really reading the words. I had absolutely nothing sorted out. I hadn’t even been to St. Mungos yet. I don’t know how to raise a baby, I don’t know how I’ll be able to afford a flat on my own, I don’t know how to look my family and friends in the eye and tell them I’m going to have a baby.

                Is adoption really impossible? There must be some kind of adoption agency for wizards. And if not, the muggle adoption agency might not be as bad as I thought. Muggles raise muggle born witches and wizards every day.

                I snap my book shut and looked around the library. It was deserted. If I wanted, I could probably sneak off to Hogsmeade and no one would ever notice. I eased up out of my seat, shuffled around the bookshelves and dashed out the door. Glancing around the corridor, a sprinted out the nearest door and into the courtyard. Hogsmeade was only… what, a hundred yards from the edge of Hogwarts’s grounds? Giggling, I dashed down the lawn, my hair streaking behind me.

                Great, pregnancy hormones are making me ridiculously happy when really, I should be scared shitless about being caught.

                I slowed my to a walk as I reached the Hogsmeade gates. Suddenly I felt very, very tired, even though it had been a short run to Hogsmeade. I let my eyes rove over the beautiful, stone village. Where to first? Honeydukes was just around the corner. I smiled. Never before had I ever had such a craving for caramels and chocolate.

                It’s a wonderful(ish) life indeed.


A/N: Chapter two;) Sorry if it’s been a bit boring so far, things will definitely pick up soon. I brought James into this one, I didn’t want him to seem like a sexed up jackass (which is the impression some might have from him and Isobel at the party). Just to clear up any confusion, James and Isobel are 1 year apart in age- she’s a sixth year, he’s a seventh year. Please review, I adore them!




Chapter 3: Chapter III
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: Any towns, schools or characters you recognize from the Harry Potter series do not belong to me.


“…completely irresponsible, not to mention reckless. This is not the type of behavior we usually see from you, Ms. Olivier. What would have happened to you if that sales clerk hadn’t owled us asking if there was a student missing? This is by far…”

                I tune out Professor McGonagall. Back when my mum was here, she was the Transfiguration teacher, but she’s been the headmistress ever since the war back in 1999. I resist the urge to bite my fingernail. I can’t believe that nasty old lady from the book store ratted me out. I told her I was 19 and everything, but no, she had to put her beaky nose in my business. Bitch.

                “…we’ll have to notify your parents immediately,” Professor McGonagall says, the flab of skin below her chin trembling. “I was under the impression you wanted to be a Healer, Ms. Olivier. You need top marks, and you won’t be getting them by going to Hogsmeade in the middle of the day.” She leans forward. Oh hell, her eyes look watery. I suppose I was the model student for our year. Prefect and everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if it broke her heart that I had decided to blow off school for a day. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but shuts it, shaking her head. “You may leave, Ms. Olivier. I’m sure Ms. Henson and Ms. Byrne have taken notes for you.” She turns away and looks out the window. I stand and walk out the door, feeling horribly guilty. Mum will be pissed. She’ll probably come and “visit” for the next five months to make sure I don’t do this again.

                According to our Uncle Reg, Mum was quite the party animal when she was a teenager. And ever since she realized all the horrible mistakes she made, she’s tried her hardest to turn us onto the books and turn us away from becoming potential prostitutes. Of course, she’s not as crazy as Alicia’s parents, who barely give her breathing room while she’s at school, let alone at home. I almost wish Mum was like Alicia’s parents- at least then I wouldn’t have gotten drunk at the party last month.

                I lean my head against the stone wall of the hallway. It feels cold and rough against my head, wishing it would give me something to think about besides the party in September. I calculate the months quickly in my mind. It took nine months for a baby to be born, the party was September 28th…. That made my due date June 28th. Shit. That meant I would have the baby right during our exams.

                I continued walking. Did that mean I’d have to quit school before I ended my sixth year? The best job I could get now was the same job as that old crank back at the book store who tattled on me. How the hell was I supposed to support a child will making about two knuts an hour?




                “Where have you been?!” Alicia asks, jumping up from her chair by the window, her eyes wide. “When you didn’t show up we thought it was because of your stomach, you know, since you threwing up in the morning, so we went to the hospital wing and you weren’t there! So then we figured you had gone to the loo and were just hiding out, so then Maeve-“

                God ‘Lish, take a breath, will you?” Maeve snapped. She turns back to me. “We heard you ditched.” My face goes red with embarrassment as I plop down in a chair across from them.

                “I needed air,” I lie. “So I decided to take the day off and-“

                “And went to Hogsmeade?” Alicia says. She looks annoyed. “Isobel, what the hell were you thinking?”

                “I love it,” Maeve says, popping this ‘l.’ “You, mon amie, are much better off living your life this way than you were before. I mean, seriously? Prefect? Finishing your homework before dinner? Reading boring muggle books for fun? That’s not living the way you should.”

                Alicia glares at Maeve. “Don’t encourage her! Ever since she drank at that party…” Alicia shakes her head. “I knew that something like this would end up happening.”

                “So? Yeah, we found her passed out on the couch the next day, but who the hell cares? We’re young once. It’s not like she ended up naked on a beach in Spain or had sex with three guys at once, she just drank a little. What did your parents program into your head, ‘Lish?”

                Alicia turns pink. “Nothing! They informed me of the dangers of drinking and stuff, that’s all. And besides, it’s better than being a dirty slut like Roxanne!”

                Roxanne Weasley is the biggest tart in school. She’s the party animal of her family, which is somewhat surprising, seeing as everyone says her dad, Percy, is pompous and strict as anything.

                Maeve rolls her eyes. “Whatever. At least she knows how to live her life, and isn’t constantly craving her parent’s approval!”

                “I do not!”

                “Yes, you do!”

                “Name one time I’ve ‘craved’ their attention,” Alicia snaps, using air quotes.

                I roll my eyes and pick up Alicia’s pink and baby blue notebook. How is it that my two best friends in the world can be so different? They’ve never actually gotten into a legit fight, but they bicker every other minute about almost everything that comes up.

                I flip through Alicia’s notes for the day. Each subject has its own ink color. Is it even healthy to be that organized?

                “No, it does not!”

                “Sending your parents a letter with all the grades you got that month is asking for attention!”

                “They asked me to.”

                “Would you two just fucking stop already?” I snap. It comes out sharper than I intended, but I’m so tired of them bitching at each other.

                Maeve gives me a weird look. “Geez, Princess Attitude, so offense meant.”

                “Princess Attitude?”

                “That’s all you’ve been the past few days.”

                “Whatever,” I snap, grabbing Alicia’s notes and standing up. “I’m going back to our room.”

                “Have fun,” Maeve says sarcastically. As I head toward the stairs, I hear her whisper to Alicia, “What do you think her deal is?”

                I quickly look back. Alicia is taking a book from her bag. “No fucking clue,” she says, shaking her head.




A/N: And so ends chapter three. Nothing much to say about this chapter, it didn’t take me very long to write. Please rate and review!



Chapter 4: Chapter IV
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: Any towns, schools and characters you recognize from the Harry Potter series do not belong to me, but to JK Rowling.


“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Alicia singsongs. “It’s a beautiful Thursday, and someone,” she says, opening the curtains. “Has a lot of catching up to do!”

                “Leamealo,” I grumble. I’m so tired. Why can’t they understand that and let me sleep in until noon? Screw school. I’m pregnant and exhausted.

                “Up you get,” Maeve says, throwing a pillow at my head. It misses it’s mark and hits the floor. I grab it and cover my head with it.

                “Please go away,” I mutter.

                “No can do. We have strict orders from the headmistress to insure that you don’t wile away in our dorm all day.” I sit up. Alicia and Maeve are completely dressed, their hair done and teeth brushed.

                “What time is it?” I groan. My head hurts.

                Maeve frowns. “Like, eight? You missed breakfast.”

                “Oh shit.” I jump up from my warm bed, staggering to my trunk. “Why didn’t you guys wake me up?”

                Alicia shrugs. “We weren’t told to until after breakfast. We thought you could get yourself up, but apparently not.” She brushes her dark hair behind her ears. “We saved you some toast,” she says, holding out a small stack of bread, absolutely dripping in butter. My stomach churns.

                “I’m fine,” I mutter, picking up a white collared shirt and tie. “I’ll be down in a minute, you guys go ahead.”

                Alicia and Maeve saunter out the door. I pick up the stack of ‘toast’ and throw it in the rubbish bin. I’ve never felt this shitty in my life. My head hurts, my stomach hurts. I’m tired. I’m dreading what is to come. My boobs have swollen so much that they ache worse than when I first got my period.

                I grab a bra out of my trunk. It’s too small. I sigh, and clasp it on anyway. My life sucks.




                Classes, as I expected, were awful.

                Not only did I have to try and hide how awful I felt, but the teachers were glaring at me in either disappointment or anger. The students, on the other hand, kept asking me where I had been yesterday. I lied, of course, telling them I had just been hiding out in my dorm and not in Hogsmeade. I still had some dignity. And on top of all that, I had to concentrate, take careful notes, brew potions in a room so hot I was afraid of passing out, cast spells on birds and pretend the reason my spells weren’t coming out well was because I hadn’t been practicing AND avoid the questioning eyes of our headmistress.

                I suppose the lesson to this all is either “Don’t have sex while drunk” or “Use a condom, for chrissakes.”

                I stifle a groan. My nausea stopped at about noon, but my headache is still here, worse than ever. I can’t focus on my homework. “I’m going to bed early,” I whisper to Alicia. She nods, not looking up from her essay. I walk up the stairs, slow and steady, wishing they would move and carry me upstairs.

                When I get to my dormitory, I plop down at the desk and pull out a fresh sheet of parchment. I need to start planning something- I mean, I can’t just expect the baby to pop out and take care of itself for the rest of its life. I actually need a financial plan, a family plan, a home plan.

                I pick up my muggle pen. They’re so much easier to write with, no smudging or smearing involved, you know? I don’t need to replenish it every five seconds either, which is nice. I begin to write.

Money and House

1)      Drop out of school after baby is born

2)      Get muggle job in London


No, that wouldn’t work, I needed a flat before I could get a job. And with a flat comes the need of furniture- cribs, a table, chairs, fridge, a bed for me, dinnerware… I lay my head on the desk. Where the hell was all this money going to come from? Mum had done fine when we were little, and had enough to ensure Christmas gifts and fun birthdays and such without us going hungry. But I hardly had anything in my Gringotts account, and all the things I need for a comfortable home won’t come free.

Maybe I could borrow money from Devin. His dragon job was going great in America, he was being transferred to Canada in just a few weeks. But that would require me telling him I was going to have a baby, and that probably wouldn’t go very well.

What the hell am I thinking? Eventually I’ll need to tell someone I’m knocked up. The baby will start showing in just a few months, and then where am I? At school, with a baby bump and no money, being whispered about by malicious idiots who respected me until they got the opportunity to name me school smut tart.


I look up. Maeve is standing in the doorway, her bag slung over her shoulder.

“Yeah?” I say, crumpling up the piece of paper I was writing on.

“Oh, nothing, I just thought you were working on homework with ‘Lish.” She drops her bag on the ground. “Writers block on your potions essay?”

I glance at the crumpled up paper in my hand. “Oh. Yeah, writers block.” I toss the paper in the rubbish bin before she can get a good look at it.

“Need any help?” she asks hopefully. Potions is one of the subjects Maeve is really good at. She’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer with much else, if you know what I mean. She was devastated when she got her OWLs back, and Potions was the only pass grade. Now she wants to help everyone with everything that has to do with it, to show that she’s not completely helpless.

“Yeah, sure,” I say, scooting over and patting the spot next to me. Maeve plops down, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper.

“So basically, you need a really good start that presents the question you need to be answering, but not as a question. So instead of saying….” I zone out. Should I tell Maeve about the baby? She’d probably be freaked out. Maeve has sex with a lot of guys, but she’s on a muggle pill and always carries around a strip of condoms. It was her who gave ‘Lish and I “The Talk” when we were in second year, since my mom was too scared to bring up anything but puberty and Alicia’s parents were the same- so it was her who told us about birth control and safe sex and STDs and everything. It was less awkward with her, but still awkward to talk about it (in my defense, I was twelve years old).

I sigh. No one will know tonight, or tomorrow night. Maybe I can run away to one of those safe shelters for threatened women, say that I have a fear of being beaten up by rumors and such. Yeah. Right.

“Isobel, are you listening?” Maeve says impatiently. “You need to write this down.”

I pick up my pen and do as I’m told until the essay is complete. Maeve smiles once we’re done.

“Thanks for helping,” I say hastily.

“No problem,” she says. “It’s nice to be able to be the one helping for once.” She gets up and turns to leave.

“Maeve?” I say suddenly. “Can I-“ I stop. “Um, borrow your mascara? Mines run out.”

“Yeah, sure, fine,” she says, picking up her bag and digging through it. “Mine’s brown though, and your eyelashes are black.”

“I don’t care,” I shrug, trying to look nonchalant. She hands me the pink tube.

“Bring it back soon, okay?” She says as she walks out the door. I lean back in the chair, curling my fist around the little bottle. I’m tired, my headache hasn’t left, and now- I feel sort of hollow. Like how I felt when I was seven and stole Devin’s toy broom and then lost it. When he was being scolded by Mum about taking responsibility for his things, I thought I was going to pass out from guilt. That’s exactly how I feel now… hollow with guilt.




A/N: And so ends chapter four. How do you guys like it so far? As I’m writing this, it’s the last day of 2011 (though I can’t publish it since the queue is closed for a few more days)!!! Goodbye 2011, hello, 2012! But anyways, since I’m dying (as always) to know what you guys think of this chapter, please rate and review!! Does anyone want to see James again? What do you guys think will happen to him once he finds out he got Isobel pregnant- if he finds out. And how do you think Isobel will cope with keeping her unborn child a secret until she has to tell someone?




Chapter 5: Chapter V
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: Any towns, schools, characters and hospitals you recognize from the Harry Potter series do not belong to me.


                “Bitch!” Maeve says angrily, throwing her book bag onto the overstuffed blue couch. “We’re witches, for Merlin’s sake. We don’t need to learn a whole new fucking language!”

                Alicia rifles through her papers. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind when we meet some cute French guy and you realize you can’t ask him on a date. Then you’ll be hopping for the opportunity to get back in class.”

                “I know, but why now?” Maeve whines. “We’re in our sixth year! To be perfectly honest, I don’t give a fuck about classes anyway. I can work as a candy stripper in St. Mungos after we graduate- you know, keep Isobel company while she tends to old and dying people.”

                “Don’t you mean candy striper?” I ask, flipping through the pages of What Language Will YOU Take?.

                “Nope. I mean candy stripper,” she winks mischievously. Alicia rolls her eyes and glances around, as if to make sure no one heard her.

                “I’m taking Spanish,” Maeve announces loudly.

                “You didn’t even look at your brochures.”

                “I don’t need to. Spanish is more sexy than France. And it’s a better beach destination.”

                “Well, I’m taking French,” Alicia sniffs. “Et toi, Isobel?”

                “French,” I reply. “I think my mum was French or something. Like, four hundred years back.”

                Maeve stands abruptly, her eyes fixed on her gold watch. “I have somewhere to go,” she says quickly, slinging her back over her shoulder. “And I need to take a shower first. I’ll see you later on.”

                “When?” Alicia asks, craning her neck over the back of the chair as Maeve struts off.

                “I don’t know, eleven?” Maeve snaps. “I’m sure you’ll both get on without me just fine.”

                Alicia sinks back in her chair, looking somewhat annoyed. “Why the hell does she always do that?”

                “Do what?” I ask innocently. Lately I’ve been feeling like there’s something going on between Alicia and Maeve, some mutual annoyance.

                “You know, not even bother planning out any of her classes, just doing what she thinks cute boys will be doing? And leaving without telling us where she’s going, just walking off with some snippy comment? It’s just… annoying.”

                “Um, I guess,” I say awkwardly, shifting on the couch.

                Alicia glances at me sideways. “Do you think she’s going to hook up with someone?”

                “It’s not even dinner yet.”

                “I know, but… it’s never too early for Maeve.”

                I shrug. “I don’t really care.”

                Alicia sighs. “I don’t really either, I guess. She’s been with guys for years now, but… I’m just afraid one of these days she’s going to end up pregnant.”

                My blood freezes. “P-Pregnant? Why would you say that?”

                She picks at her nail polish. “Because it just seems like something she would do, you know? Get drunk and forget to bring condoms or whatever. Then she’d really be screwed up for life. She doesn’t even care about the guys she ‘gets with,’ she just does it for fun. She’s our best friend, Isobel. I worry about her.”

                “And what would you do if she did come back pregnant?” I try to look as nonchalant as possible.

                “I wouldn’t exactly be surprised, or happy, but… I’d help her, you know? And claim godmother rights.”

                “Oh,” I say quietly. I’m really tired of feeling sorry for myself. “Alicia, there’s… there’s something I have to tell you.”

                “What?” she asks, sifting through the brochures.

                “Can you look at me first?” I feel sick to my stomach. I knew it would be hard telling someone.

                Alicia puts the shiny papers down. “What?”

                I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “You know how we went to that party in September?”

                “What about it?”

                “I sort of… slept with someone.”

                Alicia’s mouth drops open. “Who?”

                I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. But then I started… feeling sick. And growing. And I wondered if…” I swallow. My mouth feels dry. “I wondered if I was going to have a baby. So the next time we went to Hogsmeade, I bought… a pregnancy test. And my results said I was pregnant,” I give her a weak smile. Alicia is staring at me blankly.

                “You’re pregnant?” Alicia looks shellshocked. Pretty much how I felt when I realized I got knocked up.


                “Have you been to a doctor? You know, to be absolutely sure?”

                I shake my head. “But I am. I took the test in October, and my symptoms just get worse every day.”

                “Oh my god, Isobel,” Alicia leans back against the couch, rubbing her forehead. “Am I the only one you’ve told?”


                “Isobel,” Alicia slides over to sit closer to me. “This is more serious than you realize!”

                “No, I think I figured out by now that I’m fucked for life.”

                “No, you don’t get it. It all makes sense! Why you’ve been sick, why you eat at weird times, why you started crying when you got a bad grade in Potions the other day, why you got a bad grade in the first place…” I cringe. Stupid hormones.

                “I have things under control,” I try to say it reassuringly, but it comes out shaky.

                “But you haven’t gone to a doctor yet. Or told your mum. Wait, did you tell the father?”

                “Um, no,” I laugh awkwardly. “He kind of… well, we don’t actually… like him? Drunken mistake,” I add quickly when I see the expression on her face. “The point is, I will tell him. Just not right now.”

                “I can’t believe this,” she says numbly.

                “Neither can I.”

                “Are we going to tell Maeve?”

                “I suppose we have to.”

                We sit without speaking for a moment. Alicia looks like she’s going to cry. It’s a good thing she’s not the one having the baby. She looks over at me, her pinky nail in her mouth like she always does when she thinks.

                “Do you want to get icecream in the kitchens?”

                I nod. Since when has icecream not solved anything?




                It’s about 9:20 when Maeve comes down to the kitchens, wiping at her eyes.

                “What the hell are you two doing down her?” she asks, quickly wiping a streak of mascara away.

                “Hungry,” Alicia says coolly. “I thought you wouldn’t be back until later.”

                “It didn’t go well. I’ll tell you later. We ended up not eating, so I came down here, only to find you and…” she walks over to where we’re sitting. “An entire gallon of icecream gone.”

                “Well, when you’re eating for three you tend to want more,” Alicia gives me a sidelong glance. I kick her. Maeve gives us a weird look.

                “Isobel told me something after you went to take a shower,” Alicia sighs.

                “Oh?” Maeve questions, sitting down next to us.

                “She’s a little… pregnant?”

                There’s a very loud silence- and then Maeve bursts out laughing. “Good one,” she chortles. “You know, you could have just told me you were mad I snapped at you earlier, you didn’t need to try and freak me out.”

                “I’m serious, Maeve,” I whisper. “I’m having a baby.” The tears are starting to well up in my eyes. Why does everything in my life have to be awkward? It’s like one of those piece of crap films where everything goes wrong but the girl ends up happy in the end even though she’s homeless, pregnant, jobless and loveless. Except I’ll probably end up worse than that and without happiness.

                Alicia hands me a tissue. I wave it away. “It was at that party we went to. I got drunk and…”

                Maeve’s face falls. “You’re really not kidding now, are you?” We shake our heads.

                “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner, but I was afraid that-“

                “Holy shit, Isobel!” Maeve jumps up. “You’re pregnant and you’re apologizing? It’s not me who had sex. You don’t need to say anything to me.”

                “Why are you mad?”

                “I’m not,” she snaps. “I’m in shocked. I’m shocked that it’s not me who’s having to tell you guys this.” Alicia and I look at each other, than back at Maeve, who looks like she’s going to burst out laughing. “Well, I guess I don’t need to worry about that anymore!”

                Maeve plunks down on her seat again. “What are you going to do?”

                I shrug. “I haven’t decided yet.”

                “Abortion is out of the question then?”

                “It was never in the question. It’s not the baby’s fault, I can’t kill an innocent child.”

                “What about adoption?”

                The tears that had dried burn hot in my eyes again. “I don’t want to be that mom,” my voice cracks out. “The one who is young, goofy, irresponsible and gave up her kid! The one that goes to visit on the weekends but ends up acting like a kid herself! The one the child dreads seeing!” I take a deep breath. “But I’m not really sure what choice I have. I don’t know how to take care of a baby. I don’t know how I’d pay for daycare when working at minimum wage, I don’t know how I’d ever be able to be a mum.”

                “We’d help,” Alicia says softly. “And I’m sure Mr. Baby Daddy will too.”




Last year when we didn’t have any homework or OWL studying, Alicia, Maeve and I would always eat breakfast down by the lake on Saturday mornings with a bunch of other girls from our year. We would gossip, braid hair, complain about the workload we were getting, chat about boyfriends… it was great. We’d do it every Saturday of Spring- provided we had nice weather.

                But now, even though it’s a beautiful Saturday morning, instead of that lovely muffin eating haven on the grounds, I’m trying to not throw up all over my bed. Lovely change, right?

                I groan and roll over. Maeve has left her gold watch on her bedside table. I sit up and take a few deep breaths in hope that the nausea will fade. No such luck. I choke back the bile rising in my throat. I hate being pregnant. I’ve only known for about a week, and every day that I go by with headaches, heartburn, sour stomach and exhaustion is literally hell. I can’t even focus in my classes anymore, all my attention goes to staying awake.

                I lean back on the bead board of my bed. How long until others catch on about me being knocked up? I’ve managed not to toss my cookies in public since that day in the Great Hall, and my breasts, sore though they may be, have definitely stopped swelling. Still, I can’t hide the other symptoms forever, and a “nasty virus” won’t sell to even the most gullible first year when I get a baby bump. Ah, well. I probably have a few good weeks left before I need to tell someone. I ease up out of my bed, stroll over to the vanity table and pull my hair into a loose messy bun. People always used to say I looked like an angel, with my white blonde hair. But that was when I was what, three years old?  My mum would always say I’d have adorable children with white blonde hair like mine, and they would have the same compliment.

                Hah. Right. Blonde is a recessive trait. With my luck, my baby will end up with black hair like its dad.

                My baby. The phrase sounds so alien, so unnatural. So fond. Am I fond of my baby? Am I looking forward to it being born, to quitting school, to looking a disappointment on my family’s faces? No, it’s not an ideal situation, but deep down, I suppose I do love my child.

                Warts and all, right?

                I sigh. Last night I told Alicia I was pregnant. And then we told Maeve. And then we discussed the options. Yet I feel like there’s someone else I should be telling other than my friends- like ym family? I don’t know.

                Really. These hormones are getting way out of control. So is my life- I haven’t really gotten anywhere by telling Alicia and Maeve I got knocked up. Maybe I shouldn’t keep the baby after all.

I open my trunk. I hadn’t looked into adoption when I went to Hogsmeade the other day, though I had thought about it. I would feel loss when I gave my baby away- and I’d still have to face all the downs that came with teen pregnancy.

                I pull on a tight fitting jumper and jeans. Damn, I feel fat. There’s so much I don’t know about being pregnant, other than the basic signs- morning sickness, bigger breasts, no period, weird hunger pangs. What if I end up doing something wrong, eating something I shouldn’t, and end up screwing up the baby?

                I groan. I need a pamphlet, a brochure, a do-it-yourself guide. I could probably get one at St. Mungos next time I go to Hogsmeade, but I can’t apparate yet… and besides, that would require letting some adult know I was going to have a baby, and then mum would find out, and that would not be good.

                I sit down at the desk. It’s cluttered with old papers, broken quills, candy wrappers and ink stains. My stomach lurches at the sight of a half eaten chocolate bar. Why can’t the girls clean up after themselves? I miss our other roommate, Sarah, who had to take sick leave just a few weeks ago. From what I’ve heard, her virus is better now and she can take visitors. Maybe I’ll go see her at St. Mungos, bring her the desk and beg her to tidy it up. She’s the only one in our dorm who actually cares about whether or not things get thrown out or put away.

                I pick up the least broken quill I can find and start to doodle hearts on a piece of parchment. They remind me of James. Not because there’s any romance between us, but because he’s the father of my baby. And he has no idea that he is. I grew up without a dad- do I really want to have my child grow up without one either?

                Dear Merlin, this is tangled. I’ve known for days and haven’t sorted out one thing. How much longer can I go on by myself? I need to tell someone. I stop doodling and begin searching through the messy desk. That’s it. I’m going to tell someone. There has to be at least one fresh piece of parchment here. Maeve’s muggle catalogs, empty ink bottles, old Herbology assignment, How To Fancy Your Man: A Teen’s Guide to Romance (can’t wait to watch someone squirm when I ask about that), assorted papers with random notes… damn. No such luck.

                I pick up a half used piece of parchment. Better than a mail order, I suppose.


Dear Devin,

                There. That’s a good start.

I’m having a great time this year. I cross that out- no sense in lying. I’ll start with the obvious. As you can see, I’m writing on an old piece of paper Maeve used to draw her initials. Sorry about that, I can’t find any clean paper and don’t want to go downstairs because I feel really sick. The understatement of the year. I wish it were a stomach bug or something, but it’s not. How the fuck do I put this? “Oh, by the way, I’m pregnant! Love you!” sounds a little stupid. I lean forward and scribble Love, Isobel at the bottom of the page, grab a package, load the parchment inside and write Devin Olivier on the top. I then cross to the room to my trunk, dig to the bottom and pull out a little white object. My pregnancy test.

                Fairly easy way to tell him without writing it, yes?

                I drop the stick in the box. Dear Merlin, I hope he takes this the right way.




                “…and so, then I was telling him he was lucky I even talked to him in the first place, but he just had that I’m-so-much-better-than-you look on his face. I fucking hate people like that, one’s who think everyone loves them and they’re awesome when everyone thinks they’re the losers they are. God, why the hell did I even make out with him in the first place?” Maeve groans, banging her head on the armrest of her chair. Neither Alicia nor I know who the hell she’s talking about, but all the same we assume she’ll never care about it again.

                “You made out with him because you’re a slut,” Alicia says calmly. “Either that or romantically challenged.”

                “Slut sounds more appealing than that,” Maeve makes a face. Alicia just rolls her eyes and continues her letter to her parents. It’s kind of sad how hard she tried to impress them.

                I glance over her shoulder and catch a few glimpses of what she’s writing. Her cursive is pretty loopy and messy, even worse than Maeve’s.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I’m having a fantastic time here at school. I’ve been doing so well, I think I might be head girl next year. In Arithmancy, my partner for the translation project (Christian McKullers) was in…

                “Why do you talk to your parents like you’re at a job interview?” I ask.

                “I don’t,” Alicia says quickly, folding up her letter. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t read my… personal things.” She gets up and leaves the common room, a little huff cloud surrounding her.

                “She needs to expand,” Maeve sighs. “She does the same thing every day. She needs a boy. Or two.”

                I roll my eyes. “You really are a slut, hm?”

                “Romantically challenged,” Maeve corrects loftily, flouncing after Alicia. “That’s the politically correct term.”



A/N: Well, that chapter was a little longer than I thought it would be, about 3,000 words. Ah, well. I’m looking forward to seeing James in the next chapter, aren’t you?


Terribly sorry if I bored everyone with the woes of a pregnant teen this time, I hope the next one is a bit more, erm, action packed. I’m not totally happy with the end of the chapter, but it becomes important later on… Please rate and review!


Chapter 6: Chapter VI
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: Any towns, schools, hospitals and characters you recognize from the Harry Potter series do not belong to me.


It’s been three weeks since I mailed the package to Devin. Three. Fucking.  Weeks. Three, long, miserable, hormonal weeks without a response from my brother. I probably made a mistake in telling him. Or, erm, showing him, seeing as I sent him my pregnancy test and a letter.

Of course, he might just be really busy. I know that he and his crew were moving from Nevada to Canada to study the dragons that migrate there for the winter (I know, it doesn’t make any sense to me to move further north when it gets cold, but whatever suits the dragon’s fancy). Still, a little note back saying that he got my letter, it’s okay I’m pregnant, I’m welcome to come live with him, he won’t tell mum, and oh, I can pack as soon as I get the letter might have been nice.

Or is that a bit much?

I stifle a groan and press my hand against my stomach. I feel hungry and nauseous at the same time- until now, I didn’t even know that was possible. The breakfast smells wafting up from the platters on the table smell delicious, but I’m afraid to eat anything (I am not repeating the whole throw up fiasco I went through a month ago).

                “Not hungry?” Alicia asks. Her plate, as usual, is loaded with toast, bacon, scrambled eggs and a muffin.

                I shake my head. “Not really,” I lie.

                “You know, you’ve hardly been eating at all for weeks now.” She leans forward, her gaze fixed on my stomach. Good plan, call attention to it!

                “Well, maybe I’ve stopped growing.”

                “You don’t stop growing until you’re 21. Especially if you’ve got more than dry toast in your stomach.”

                I kick her under the table, glaring at her.

                “That’s organs, not exterior stuff,” Maeve chimes in, oblivious to Alicia’s ‘hint hint’ sentence.

                “I’m just not hungry.”

                Alicia rolls her eyes. “Fine.” Her attention turns to the Gryffindor table. She cranes her neck to see around me. Maeve follows her gaze and makes a face.

                “What?” I turn around. Two tables down, there’s a couple making out.

                “Someone should tell them to get a room,” Maeve says, her face full of disgust.

                “Looks like he found a new toy,” Alicia takes a bite of her toast. “Poor Angie. They won’t last for more than a week.”

                “Who?” I ask. I can’t see over the heads of the Hufflepuffs. At sixteen years old, I’m still only 5’4”.

                Maeve delicately sips her green tea. She thinks drinking slowly makes her look regal, but really, it makes her look like an idiotic turtle. Or maybe I’m just being harsh. “James and Angie. They’re an item.”

                “Since when?” Great. Now the father of my baby has a girlfriend, and they’re currently going at it at breakfast. Can nothing go right in my life?

                Maeve shrugs. “Some time last week, I guess.” She glances over at the Gryffindor table. “Angie’s really nice,” she states. Right. Like I give a flying monkey shit what she’s like. What if my baby has a step mom? In don’t want another woman help to raise my baby. I turn my gaze from Maeve to the table. The two break apart, look around guiltily and laugh. James brushes some hair off Angie’s face, kisses her forehead, and begins to walk out of the Great Hall.

                I stand up abruptly. “Excuse me,” I say, swinging my legs over the bench. “I’ll see you two in class.” I strut out of the Great Hall, trying to look confident and natural. I don’t even know why it bothers me so much that James is making out with some stupid hoe. It’s not like there’s any romance between us, and as far as I’m concerned he’s the scum of the earth. Still, there’s something about him being with girls I just don’t like.

                James is about halfway down the corridor, walking swiftly. I speed up. “James,” I call out. He stops and turns around.

                “Hey Isobel,” he says, smiling. An easygoing smile, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Come to think of it, he probably doesn’t. I purse my lips. His smile falters. “Something wrong?”

                “So. New girlfriend, eh?” I gesture back to the Great Hall.

                He shrugs. “Yep.” He smirks. “Does that bother you?”

                I snort. “No.” At least, not for the reasons he thinks I am.

                “Then why talk to me now, after ignoring me for two months?”

                “You were the one avoiding me!”

                “Right,” he says sarcastically. “Because whenever I see you in the hall, I walk the opposite direction. And when you wave to me, I pretend I don’t see.” He takes a step towards me. “The only time I’ve seen you since that party, Isobel, is when you crashed into me a couple weeks ago. I tried to be friendly, but…” he runs his hand through his hair. “You made it pretty damn obvious you don’t want a thing to do with me.”

                My cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. I was so mortified by getting drunk and sleeping with an almost absolute stranger that I completely avoided him the first month, then when I found out I was pregnant I avoided him for, erm, other good reasons.

                “Look, Isobel…” he takes a step closer to me. “I know that you and your friends think I’m some scumbag player who-“

                “Whatever,” I cut him off. “I just wanted to know that while you might be so callous as to-“

                “Isobel,” he says gently. “When I woke up the next morning and you had gone, I felt pretty bad about it all.”

                “Well, that makes two of us,” I snap.

                “Because you regretted it all,” he says, ignoring my jibe.               “I wouldn’t have-“

                “James?” We both turn. Standing in front of the Great Hall’s entrance is Angie, her straight black hair looked slightly mussed (probably from their earlier make out session). She walks around me and curls her hand into his. She smiles warmly at James and I. “What are you talking about?”

                “Homework,” I say. “James is tutoring me in Arithmancy.” I don’t actually take Arithmancy, but who cares? What bubbly Angie doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

                Angie kisses his cheek. She dwarfs me with her 5’10” frame. “He’s generous like that, eh?” She smiles again.

                “Yep.” We stand awkwardly for a moment before I turn around and walk away. “I’ll see you around, Angie.” I stalk towards the safety of my dorm. I have a free period first, I think I’ll take a nap before class. I’m so tired it’s not even funny.

                I trip around the corridor’s turn, thoughts whirling in my head. What did he mean by ‘feeling bad about it all’? Did he actually care about when we had slept together? Why had he even bothered pouring me a drink in the first place? I shook my head. Of course he didn’t really care. He wouldn’t give a damn about our baby either.

                I plunked down on a windowsill. Maybe I wouldn’t tell him. Maybe I’ll pretend he wasn’t my first time, and I had been pregnant before the party. Or after the party. No one will need to see the baby’s birth certificate anyway, so that shouldn’t be an issue if I decide to lie.

                I stare out the window. It’s a gray, rainy November day. December will be in just three days, and then I’ll be going home for the holidays. I squint out the window. An owl is drawing nearer to the open window. It carries a letter on its ankle. It drops down onto the sill. My heart flips. On the outside of the letter, Isobel Olivier is scrawled in Devin’s handwriting. I eagerly grab the letter and open it.

                Dear Isobel,



A/N: Oooh, a cliffhanger! I was so excited to bring James into the book for the second time. I hadn’t planned on having Angie in the story, but I decided he needed a girlfriend to spice things up. How do you guys like him?


Poor IsobelL She’s just getting sicker and sicker with her pregnancy… any guesses as to why? Other than her poor eating habits and lack of sleep, that is. I can’t wait to see what you all think! Please rate and review!!!


Chapter 7: Chapter VII
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: Any towns, schools, hospitals or characters you recognize from the Harry Potter series do not belong to me.


                Dear Isobel,

    Well, I can’t say I’m not shocked and disappointed about what you just mailed me. Do you even have a boyfriend? Isobel, you’re smarter than that- there’s birth control everywhere, why didn’t you take any?  There is no undoing what’s already done, so we may as well prepare best we can; have you told mum? Gone to St. Mungos? Made any future arrangements whatsoever?


I’m currently in Canada right now, so it will take a week or so for a new letter to reach me. I love you.



                Well. I suppose that that’s the best case scenario, seeing as he hasn’t done anything rash or dangerous for the entire country of Canada. I reread the letter a few times before folding it up and putting it in my skirt pocket. I haven’t made any plans at all- I’ve thought about it, but always put it off. What the hell am I going to do?

                I take out a fresh sheet of parchment.

                Dear Devin,

I haven’t made any plans, gone to St. Mungos, told mum and only have the 40 Galleons I earned over the summer in my Gringotts account. I figured I’d drop out of Hogwarts when the baby was born, the due date will probably be around June 28th. So I’m officially screwed. And the dad of the freaking kid has a girlfriend everyone loves, because she’s so nice, so he’s not going to care at all about the baby. And get this- he’s a guy I’ve absolutely hated and now I just hate him even more and everything is completely FUCKED UP so I’m kissing the whole life I had planned for myself GOODBYE and

                I put my pen down. I writing on the paper is jagged from the stone windowsill I’ve been writing on. I crumple up the letter and toss it out the window. Ranting out all my problems and sending them to Devin will not help the state of things. I slide off the stone windowsill. I really need that nap I was planning on taking, I feel like shit.

                I stroll down the corridor and up the stairs. Maybe I don’t have a plan now, but I will soon. Very soon.




                “I got a letter from Devin,” I whisper to Alicia, sliding down onto the futon. I’ve just gotten to the library, where I’ve been studying lately- it’s so much more quiet than the common room, so much more private. Alicia looks up from her long paper and pushes it aside.

                “What did he say?”

                “That he’s disappointed. And that he thinks I should tell mum.”

                Alicia twists her quill around in her fingers. “Maybe you should tell your mum. You know, for pregnancy tips and such.”

                “She’d be pissed.”

                “She’d get over it.”

                I sigh and take out my Charms essay. “I’m so tired of having to get through my classes and deal with my symptoms all at the same time. Whatever. Ever pregnant woman has gotten through this, and I can to, you know?”

                “No,” Alicia says mildly. “I don’t know. But a Healer will. And I’m sure your mum will too.”

                I pick up my muggle pen and continue my essay. I think I will go to a Healer. We have a Hogsmeade visit this Saturday, so I’ll go then. And maybe get some baby books.

                There. The starting of my own plan.




                The shower’s steaming hot streams of water feel amazing on my back. Today’s classes, as I expected, were dreadful. My grades have been suffering, and on top of trying not to pay attention to all my pregnancy symptoms and pay attention, Maeve was being annoying all through our classes.

                “Isobeeeeeeel,” she had whined, poking me in the back. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

                “Because I don’t feel good,” I snapped, twisting away from her sharp nails.

                “I just want to know why you’re wearing Lish’s shirt. Baby bumps don’t show if you’re only like, a couple months along, right?”

                I had cringed. I’d been hoping she wouldn’t pick up on the fact I was wearing a bigger shirt to try to hide the thickness of my stomach. I glance at my stomach in the shower. I still don’t know why the hell it has a slight bump, as I’m only two and a half months along. Don’t babies only start to show at like, four months?

                I turn off the water, open the shower curtain and wrap a fluffy towel around me. It’s only Monday. I decided to buy a pregnancy book on Saturday and drop by St. Mungos so I can get a couple prescriptions and stuff. I need some kind of guidance here, Alicia was right. Still, if someone saw me buying a book, that would start some rumors I really don’t want to have started.

                I run a brush through my hair. My hair looks yellow when it’s wet. I wrinkle my nose. I wish I could be one of those girls who look beautiful no matter what they’re doing- swimming, running, laughing, crying, dancing… I always end up looking meek and mild when I dance. And red and sweaty when I run. Pink and blotchy when I cry, completely pale when I laugh.

                I pull on an oversized t-shirt and silky long pants. Angie looks beautiful no matter what she’s doing. Maybe that’s why everyone likes her so much, why she’s so confident all the time. I wonder what she’d do if she found out her boyfriend got me pregnant? Pass out, I suppose. She looks like a weakling.

                What is wrong with me? I’ve never been malicious. Or resentful, for that matter. But something about her hanging off him this morning made me feel sort of protective. Not of him, I guess, but of the baby- I don’t want my child to have a second mother, a weird custody agreement.

                I’m blaming it on pregnancy hormones.

                I guess, from what I’ve been thinking today, that I’ve ruled out adoption. I never really liked the idea anyway, you know? I don’t have anything against adopted people, but… what if the child resented me for the rest of my life? And what if it hurts too much to give the baby away?

                I stroll into the common room, squeezing my hair dry with the towel. The radio is playing some muggle showtune, one my brother and I used to listen to when we were kids. I hum it lightly, giving my hair a final squeeze. Someone coughs loudly behind me. Oh, shit- Alicia.

                “Hey,” Alicia says, standing from the overstuffed blue loveseat. “What took you so long? It’s 2:30 in the morning, you’ve been gone since eleven o’clock.”

                Shit. I glance at the large clock- sure enough, it’s past two.

                “Maeve went to bed, almost everyone else is asleep or in their dorms,” Alicia takes my toiletry bag from my hand. “Seriously, Isobel. You’re not eating right. You’re not sleeping right. You haven’t taken any folic acid pills or seen a doctor or had an ultrasound…” she shakes her head. “This is dangerous, Isobel. For you and your baby.”

                “I’m doing okay, ‘Lish. Under the circumstances, I’d say I’m kicking ass. And I’ll probably go to the hospital on Saturday, so…”

                “Probably? No, Isobel, you’re not ‘kicking ass!’” she raises her voice at me. “You haven’t told anyone but me, Maeve and your brother! Your mum doesn’t know, the hospital doesn’t know, the father doesn’t know! All you’ve done that I can see is sit around moping and hoping for some magical stork to come and take your baby away! You need a plan. Babies don’t deliver themselves, they don’t eat for themselves, they don’t sleep for themselves. They don’t find an adoptive family for themselves either.” She looks me up and down. “I’m not saying you need to put the baby up for adoption, I’m just saying that if you can’t take proper care of yourself or your unborn child, then you put both your lives in danger!”

                “I’m fine,” I snap, grabbing the bag out of her slightly pudgy hands. “I’m going to bed. If I can do that without being scrutinized, that is.” I storm towards the stairs. Alicia follows, but doesn’t say a word. I feel a little guilty for barking at her, but satisfied at the same time. My jumbled emotions feel relieved.

                I sink into my bed, falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.




A/N: I’m not as pleased as I could be with this chapter, but I got done what needed to get done. Please don’t stop reading because of this terrible chapter, things get SOOOO much better! There are a few things I need to address now…

First, for those of you wondering why this has a Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme rating, it is not something that’s to come, it’s because this is a teen pregnancy story. Second, for anyone who’s confused, the general date of the story at this time is December 14th, a Monday. And third is the news I am very happy to tell you about; I have a new novel out! The only downside to this is that the new chapters for Table for Four will be slowing down, seeing as I have to write for two stories. Just thought you should know why updates won’t be as frequent;)

Please rate and Review!





Chapter 8: Chapter VIII
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: Any towns, schools, hospitals or characters you recognize from the Harry Potter series do not belong to me.


                It was a dark and stormy night.

                Okay, that’s a dramatization, as it’s barely drizzling outside and it’s the middle of the day. But inside I feel like it’s a dark and stormy night. I got about five hours of sleep last night, and my entire body feels stiff, achey and bloated. I’ve been feeling awful for about two weeks now, but today I really just feel… off. Like I’m not even in my body, it’s just acting on its own accord. I’m surprised I managed to get through breakfast and half of my classes this morning.

                I glance around the Charms room. Alicia and Maeve sit together, neither so much as flicking their eyes in my direction. Alicia thinks I’m being a prickly bitch since last night (or, should I say, early this morning) I snapped at her for almost ‘no reason’ (which is what she told Maeve). Maeve agreed with her, seeing as I ignored her best I could almost all of yesterday after breakfast. Hey, it’s not my fault I’m fat, hormonal and fed up with being pregnant.

                Well, not completely my fault.

                I try to focus my attention to the teacher. Damn, my head hurts. So does my back. And I’m really hungry.

                I take a few deep breaths. Focus, Isobel, focus. I pick up my quill and quickly read a couple lines of the notes next to my paper. I must have missed the last few lines. I copy down a couple notes, until the girl sitting next to me moves her elbow, blocking her paper from my line of vision.

                “…were used in the fourth battle of the goblins, taking place in 1496. Often times, the spells would only stun for a few hours, but were known to put some in a coma. This is why we know have added on ‘minima’ to the spell to make it less dangerous. If we had not, the average rate of near death would go up to about…”

 I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Am I the only one absolutely roasting in here? I look over to the windows. Despite the rain, the glass has been opened about five inches on each. I roll up my sleeves, hoping for a breeze to come my way.

“…occasionally, and regardless of the nine laws of Merlin, he often pulled banned curses in front of a full court. These curses were the beginning of the now Unforgivable curses, and have not been taught in classrooms since he nearly injured seven of the jury members who made it down in history for just that. Now, however, we can begin…”

                Chills run down my back. I push my hand up my forehead, smoothing some of my hair back. The lines of my notes blur and move. There’s black spots everywhere. I’m so tired. Just so tired.

                “… nine of which could have been fatal. We may teach the least lethal of the nine, all of which now do not work as the language of which they originated has not been used for hundreds of years. If we used the others, it could be quite dangerous. Now, the procedure we use for these spells is…”

                The desk and chair slip out from underneath me and I hit the cold, stony floor. Everything flashes white. And then black.

                Very, very black.




                My eyes crack open. I’m in a room with eggshell blue walls. I wrinkle my nose. It smells too clean in here, like someone’s been spraying muggle cleaning products on every surface. Where the fuck am I?

                I ease up, wincing. My head hurts like hell. I reach up and pat it- damn. There’s an awful bump on the side of it. How did I get here? I look around the room. It’s small, with a tiny window and white lace curtains fluttering in a non-existing breeze.


                I whip my head around. Sitting in a plain looking plastic chair is over by the door is my mum. Her gaze is soft at first, but suddenly hardens. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”


                “Where am I?” my voice cracks like it always does when I’m nervous.

                “St. Mungos,” she says crisply, getting up from her chair and sitting down on the end of my bed. “After you passed out in your Charms class, they moved you here because you hit your head and they were worried about a possible concussion.” She studies my face carefully. “It only took the Healers about five seconds to realize you were pregnant, which gets me back to my question…” she purses her lips. “Why didn’t you tell your own mother you were going to have a baby?”

                I look down at my hands. “Because I was afraid of what you would think,” I mumble softly. “I only told Devin and Alicia just a little while ago, and that was because I thought I would explode if I didn’t tell somebody, you know?”

                “No, Isobel, I don’t know,” she snaps. “I don’t know anything about these past few months! I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, I didn’t know you were sexually active, I didn’t know you were pregnant!”

                “I sorry,” I say softly, tears pricking my eyes.

                “I’m sorry too, Isobel,” she says harshly. “If you had told me you were ready to have sex, we could have gotten protection for you! Pills! Shots! Condoms!”

                “It was a mistake, mum.” The tears are really starting to come now. “I don’t have a boyfriend, I didn’t know I was going to sleep with someone, it was…” I try and gulp back my tears. “It was a stupid one night stand, okay? It was at that party, and I was drunk, and he was drunk, and I’m sure we both wish it never even happened!” I sniffle, reaching over to my bedside table for a box of tissues. I wipe my eyes before I look back up at my mom. She doesn’t look angry anymore, just tired. Careworn.

                There’s a silence between us, the loudest silence I’ve ever heard. After about an eon, she takes my hand in hers. “How long have you been pregnant?”

                “September 28th. I found out at the end of October.”

                She sighs. “The doctors say that you weren’t rested and hadn’t been eating enough for a pregnant woman, and that it was all too much for your body- that’s why you fainted.” She leans in closer. “You needed to go to a Healer, Isobel. You put you and your child’s life in danger by not having all your needs met properly. I understand that the symptoms and school must have been a lot, but you need to do better than that. You could’ve had support from your friends and the baby’s father.”

                “I only told two people,”I whisper.

                She looks at the curtains, fluttering in their imaginary breeze. “I know, sweetpea. But don’t change the subject…” she turns back to me. “Who’s the baby’s father?”

                Now it’s my turn to look at the curtains. I suppose I could lie, tell her I don’t remember. But I’ve already lied so much in the past few months- I’m tired of secrets, of symptoms, of worrying.

                She sighs. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

                The tension leaves my body, replaced with the relief of procrastination. “Thanks, mum.”

                She gets up, smoothing her khaki pants. “I need to make a few phone calls,” she says, gesturing to the hallway. “But I’ll be back soon.” She strides over to the door, putting her hand on the knob, but doesn’t turn it. Instead, she looks back at me. “You grew up without your dad, Isobel,” she says. “Don’t make your child do the same.” And with that, she leaves me to myself.




                At about two o’clock, the door to my ward opens. A middle aged Healer is behind it.

                “Someone here to see you, Ms. Olivier,” she says, smiling as if it’s the best news in the world. She steps to the side, and sure enough, behind her is a tall, dark figure. Damn it. I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.

                “Hey Is,” James smiles.

                “Isobel,” I say in a clipped tone. “I don’t like that nickname.”

                He holds up his hands as if in surrender. “My bad.” He glances back at the still grinning Healer, who stands, holding the door open. “Do you mind if…” he trails off, but the Healer takes the hint.

                “Call if you need anything,” she says cheerfully, swinging the door shut.

                James sits drags the plastic chair my mum was sitting in over to my bed and sits down. We don’t say anything for a minute. There’s chatter in the hospital hallway, along with various hums of different machines. A light blinks on the ceiling. This is a whole different awkward from when my mum was I here.

                “So,” James says, breaking the silence. “You’re pregnant, eh?”

                “How’d you find out?” I twist the sleeve of my school sweater around my thumb.

                He rolls his eyes. “You’re in the pregnancy wing of the hospital.”

                “Duh,” I snap. “I mean how’d you know to come? I find it quite unlikely you came out of the goodness of your heart.”

                “Oh. That. Well, it’s not exactly a secret that you fainted in class, and when I heard you’d been moved to the hospital, I put two and two together.”

                “They moved me here because they were afraid I might have a concussion.”

                “I know that now, but I was right about the pregnant part.” He looks me in the eye, an unreadable expression on his face. “I’m guessing I’m the father?”

                “Yes,” I mutter.

                “Why didn’t you tell me?”

                I glare at him. “Well, that seems to be the million galleon question of the day, and it has the same answer every time!” I snap. “I. Didn’t. Know. What. You’d. Think.” I put emphasis on each word. “We’re not even dating, James, the last romantic thing that happened between us wasn’t even that romantic! It was a drunken mistake. And, by the way…” I pause. “I’m blaming you for getting me drunk.”

                “I didn’t ‘get you drunk!’ You couldn’t work the keg, so I helped you.”

                “Yeah, you helped me get about four glasses!”

                “You wanted more. I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking properly, and if I had been, I wouldn’t have given you more than you needed.”

                “You were sober enough to pour the damned alcohol out the keg!”

                He runs his hands through his hair. “Fighting about the drinks isn’t going to help anything, Isobel.”

                I don’t respond, but merely glare at the curtains, which remain to flutter around. At first it looked nice, but after an hour of them moving up and down, they’ve become annoying.

                The door bursts open, making us both jump. In come a white haired Healer and two interns who are wheeling in a machine with a large screen on it, behind them my mum, who stares at James for a moment before pushing the door shut. The Healer pulls out a clipboard and begins checking off little boxes, white the interns pull the machine up to the end of my bed. Mum flashes me a quick and questioning smile. The Healer looks up.

                “You’re Isobel, yes?”

                “Mm-hm,” I nod quickly, shooting James a get-out-now look.

                The Healer scribbles my name at the top of his clipboard. “I’m Healer Geiger, and I will be doing your check up today, seeing as you should’ve been in here about every other week since the conception.” He looks up. “It seems you missed coming, so we best get you started right now.” He motions for James to get up from the chair. James jumps out of it, suddenly aware of his intrusion. I look at him meaningfully.

                “Goodbye,” I say somewhat sarcastically.

                Healer Geiger looks at me strangely. “Is he the father?”

                “Yep,” James says, popping the ‘p.’ I shoot a death glare at him. My mum gives me an exasperated look. Shit. I probably should have told her earlier.

                Intern number one waves her hand. “He can stay.” I glare at her.

                “Okay,” Healer Geiger says, sitting down. “How far are you along?”

                “Two and a half months?” I guess.

                “When was the conception?” There’s a pause. What the hell is a conception?

                “September 28th,” James cuts in.

                “Okay…” Geiger says, scribbling on his clipboard. “What have your symptoms been?”

                “Morning sickness, really bad headaches, frequent heartburn, exhaustion, bigger breasts…” I trail off, blushing. I really wish James had left. “Oh, and I’m starting to, um, show a little bit.”

                Geiger stares at me for a moment. “And you’re only two and a half months along?”

                I shift, uncomfortable under his gaze. “Yeah…”

                “Okay,” he jots down a couple more things on his clipboard. “Have you been taking any pills at all during the pregnancy?”


                “Were you using any faulty birth control during the conception?”


                “Have you weighed yourself at all during the gestation?”


                “So you don’t know how much you weigh or how much weight you’ve gained?” he looks at me intently. I shake my head.

                 Geiger continues scribbling on his clipboard, then looks back up at me curiously. He places his clipboard down on the bedside table. “Well, Isobel, we’re going to do an ultrasound if that’s alright.”

                My mum places down her paper tea cup. “An ultrasound? I thought you wouldn’t really need to do one until-“

                “Her symptoms are all normal, but they seem like they’re intensified.” He gives me a hard stare. “And at two and a half months, she shouldn’t be showing at all.”

                “What does that mean?” James asks.

                “I’m not sure what it means yet,” Geiger says calmly. “Which is why we need an ultrasound.”

                The intern who suggested James should say grabs a little bottle from the machine. “Do you mind?” she says, gesturing to my shirt. I roll it up over my stomach, but place my hands over the slightly bloated half self-consciously. The intern shakes the bottle, motions for me to move my hands and squeezes a clear goo onto my stomach.

                “Might be a little cold,” she says with a smile.

                The other intern is turning on the machine, which makes a tiny whir and then goes silent. The screen is black with white writing at the top. I glance over at my mum, who’s nervously sipping her tea out of her cup. Poor mum. She probably didn’t expect to be at her daughter’s first ultrasound for a couple more years.

                Geiger takes his wand out of his pocket, mutters a few words, and places it on my stomach. The screen lights up a bit, the white writing remaining, but now there’s white imprints around it. I can’t make hide nor tail of what’s going on.

                A tilt my head sideways, staring at the lamp on my bedside table. It’s a faded lavender with a yellow shade. A few seconds later, there’s a gasp from my mum. I sit up, looking at the blurry picture on the screen.

                “Sit still,” one of the interns snaps.

                “What’s going on?” I ask nervously.

                Geiger is staring at the screen intently. He doesn’t say anything.

                “Sir?” James questions.

                Geiger turns back to me, his expression unreadable. I look up at the screen. There’s two white blobs there. Oh, Merlin.

                “You’re having twins,” he says softly.




A/N: Yep, twins! Double, bubble, toil and trouble! This chapter was really fun to write, and I’ve been doing nothing but write all day- it’s the first snowfall of the year here. Yeah, pretty sad that it’s the middle of January and we’re only just getting sow, but it’s a snow day, so I’m not about to complain.


So… what does everyone think about the twins? I’m excited to finally put it in! It’s been twins since the beginning, and now we can all finally have double the fun! That sounded really corny, I’m sorry. Rate and review, everyone!






Chapter 9: Chapter IX
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]



 Disclaimer: Any towns, schools, hospitals and characters you recognize from the Harry Potter series do not belong to me.


“ISOBEL!” Maeve squeals, throwing open the door to my ward. A frazzled looking nurse is behind her and Alicia, making shushing noises like her life depends on it.

                “Hey guys,” I say weakly. I figured they’d come eventually, but a little warning and volume control would’ve been nice.

                “Goodbye,” Maeve says suggestively to the nurse, shutting the door in her face.

                “Maeve!” I snap. “She’s been taking care of me since I got here!”

                Maeve rolls her eyes. “You got here yesterday Isobel, I don’t think that exactly binds you two together.” She sits on the back rail of my bed. Alicia pulls up a chair.

                “So,” Alicia says, easing into her chair. “Cat’s out of the bag, huh?”

                “Sorry. I didn’t mean to faint,” I say. There’s a bit of a silence, which is weird, because there’s almost always noise when it’s the three of us together. Maeve sorts through her purse, Alicia twists her bracelets around, I stare at my covers.

                Maeve looks somewhat hurt. “If you told us how bad you felt, we could’ve given you some meds or something.”

                “I said I’m sorry, okay?” I snap.

                “Have you had an appointment yet?” Alicia asks.

                “Yep. Yesterday I had an ultrasound. And then they loaded me with brochures and lists of foods  I should be eating, how much sleep I should be getting, what stuff I can and can’t do…” I shake my head. “It’s all so weird, you know?”

                “Did you get an ultrasound picture?” Maeve asks.

                I reach over onto my bedside table and grab the little black and white photo. Healer Geiger printed it for me yesterday after my appointment. I must’ve spent an hour just looking at it yesterday with my mum. I hand it to Maeve, who squints at it. Alicia picks up a few brochures.

                I gesture to the ultrasound picture Maeve is holding. “My babies are cute, aren’t they?”

                “Well, the rumors are true then,” Maeve sighs, handing the picture back to me. “Everyone’s talking about you. And the twins. I heard some people saying it was triplets, but that was freaking ridiculous.” She glances up. “Cute kids though.”


                Alicia opens my Twin Mothers Connect: How Are You With Your Babies?. “Well, when you passed out yesterday, no one really knew what was going on. Then James left and didn’t come back until after dinner, but he wasn’t really saying anything. Then, of course,” she studies me carefully. “Your mum came to the school and went to see the headmistress, and tons of people heard them talking in the hall about pregnancy exceptions for classes and homework and stuff. Word of mouth did the rest.”

                “My mum didn’t tell me she was going to the school,” I say quietly. “I thought she was going home.”

                Maeve shrugs. “I guess not.”

                I lean back into my pillows, cold dread filling the pit of my stomach. Oh shit. I didn’t think everyone at school would know I’m pregnant for a while.

                “Can we both be godmothers?” Maeve says. “Seeing as, you know, there are two kids, one for each of us.”

                I give her a look. “I haven’t really sorted much out yet.” We’re all quiet for a minute. Maeve breaks the silence.

                “Is that a yes?”

                I purse my lips. “It’s an ‘I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do and godparents are not my priority right now,’” I snap.

                “What’s the plan for James?” Alicia questions.

                “I don’t know,” I say quietly. “He had to leave yesterday after the ultrasound. We didn’t talk all that much.”

                Alicia makes a face. “I can’t believe you slept with that bastard.”

                “I was drunk!”

                “Was he drunk?”

                “Why would he sleep with me if he weren’t drunk?”

                Alicia shrugs. “Is he coming back?” She looks around, as if expecting him to pop out from under the bed with baby carriages and cribs in tow.

                “Probably,” I say. “I mean, he took home brochures and an ultrasound too, so I guess it means something to him.”

                “Listen to this,” Alicia says, quickly changing the subject. “’Pregnant women should not eat the following:  raw meat, deli meat, smoked seafood, raw shellfish, raw eggs, unpasteurized milk and caffeine.” She looks up at me. “Wouldn’t you generally stay away from raw meats anyway?”

                “I already read that,” I say. “I don’t really care about much of that except for the caffeine.” I make a face. “How long do you think I can go without coffee?”

                “Not too long,” Maeve grabs one of the brochures and flips through it. “Ah, this one has a list of baby names.” She smiles. “Have you thought about any yet?”

                “I won’t be able to know the gender until the end of January, so I haven’t really thought about it much,” I reply. “But if there’s a boy, I think I’ll have his middle name be Devin after my brother.”

                “Does Devin know you’re in the hospital?”

                “Mum called him yesterday. She was pretty pissed that he had known and hadn’t told her.”

                Maeve flips through her brochure. “Do you have a preference, boy or girl?”

                I shrug. “Not really.”

                “If its identical twins, you’ll probably get them mixed up,” Maeve giggles.

                “No I won’t,” I kick her. “I’ll put nametags on them.” We all laugh. I can’t help but smile- it feels so good to finally be able to talk to both of my friends about my being pregnant. Have a laugh like it’s the most normal thing to talk about. It’s not nearly as awkward as I thought it would be.

                “So back to the baby daddy,” Maeve says in a suddenly serious tone. “No one really knows he’s the father…”

                “How did you know it was him?” I ask. They exchange somewhat sheepish looks.

                “We sort of… asked him?” Alicia says. The last part sounds like a question. I lean back into my pillows.

                “Oh, Merlin, what did you two do?”

                “We asked him if he went to see you!” Maeve says defensively. “And he was all ‘Yeah, I did’ and we asked him why and he sort of shrugged, and then I kind of took his bag and went through it and… well, he had brochures like these, so…” she gestures nonsensically. I groan. This is pretty typical Maeve behavior- it’s not the first time she’s grabbed a bag and went through it. In fourth year when she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her, she took his hoodie and went through his pockets looking for any remnant of another girl while he was still wearing it. She can be quite forceful.

                I pull at the stray threads on the sheet. “So what now? I go back to school and not only am I the pregnant slut with twins, but I’m the pregnant slut with twins who doesn’t know who her kid’s dad is?”

                “I’m sure he’ll tell people eventually but…” Alicia puts her brochure on my bed. “His cousins and siblings are in the school, Isobel. I’m sure he’s just… nervous about how they’ll take it.”

                I laugh sarcastically. “I’m the one who’s pregnant! I told my family and my friends, and the school! I’ve got the hard part, he’s got the easy part!”

                “You didn’t actually tell anyone but Devin and Alicia, Isobel,” Maeve says. “Everyone sort of found out by accident. And besides, don’t you think you’re sort of overreacting? I mean, yesterday he found out he knocked up a girl he hardly knows and that he’s having twins. I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect him to tell the whole world immediately.”

                “I thought you guys didn’t like him,” I say.

                “We don’t.”

                “Then why are you defending him?”

                “Because if it were me, I wouldn’t go around telling people the first day either,” Alicia says simply. “And because we’ll probably have to get used to him, being the godmothers of his children and all.”

                I glare at her. “I didn’t say you two got to be the godmothers!”

                “Pleeeaaase,” Maeve begs. “We’re your best friends!”

                “I’ll ask James,” I grumble. “I think he’s coming back later this afternoon.” We sit quietly for a while, passing around the ultrasound picture and talking about names, Christmas, classes, boys, what I’ve missed… all too soon, they’re getting up and leaving.

                “Can you please stay?” I ask. I really don’t want to be alone.

                Alicia shakes her head and shrugs her blazer on. “Lunch is almost over, and we didn’t exactly come with permission.”

                I roll my eyes at them and wave at them as they head out the door. Maeve pops her head back in and gives me the finger, and I give it right back to her.

                The more things change, the more they stay the same.




                I wake up to a muffin basket.

                Seriously. Someone is shoving a wicker basket full of muffins and flowers in my face.

                “Surprise!” an overly cheery voice bubbles. I shoot up.


                “Hello, Isobel,” she smiles, placing the basket down on my bedside table. “I got out of my classes early today, thought I’d drop by and say hello.”

                “Oh.” This I was not expecting. Angie sits down on the end of my bed, cross her legs and clasping her hands. She looks very studious.

                “I heard about your predicament at school,” she says gravely. “Isobel, I am so, so sorry that this has all had to happen to you. And triplets! Oh Merlin, this must be so hard on you…”

                “They’re twins, actually,” I say as politely as possible. Am I the only one who finds it weird that the girlfriend of the father is visiting me, unbeknownst to the fact that he’s the dad?

                “How are you coping?” she leans forward. “My sister go pregnant last year, but she had to get an abortion. It was awful. She got it because our parents didn’t approve, she was only eighteen, I don’t know if you remember her? She just graduated.” Angie looks at her clasped hands, then pops back up, smiling. “But not to worry! I’m sure you’ll love the babies when they come, you must have a supporting family for you to not be in tears right now.”

                I just nod. Angie is famous for her talk marathons. Shit, this had better not take too long.

                “So…” Angie says, her eyes trained hard on mine. “Who’s the father?”

                “Can I not… say right now?” I ask pitifully. I feel like a five year old saying something like that.

                She nods understandingly. Then she smiles. Again. “I brought you a couple of your belongings, your friends gave them to me when they heard I was coming down. They said they forgot to bring them when they came at lunch…” she winks. “I promise not to turn them in for leaving grounds without permission.” She says it like we’re sharing some juicy secret. I nod again. I almost forgot Angie is head girl.

                Angie hands me a little pink gift bag. Inside is makeup, flowers and chocolate. I stare up at her. “This isn’t my stuff…”

                Again with the smile and wink. “I know. It’s just , whenever someone gets pregnant in my family, we’d always give them some nice bag of pampering stuff so they could have a little ‘me’ time. Except for my sister.” Her face falls.

                “Well,” I say, trying to change the subject of abortion. “Thank you for the little, um gift bag. And the muffins. They should save me from this treacherous hospital food.”

                She laughs. It’s such a tinkly sound. She reaches down and grabs a large tote bag and gloves, tugging them on. “I should really get going. Sorry I couldn’t stay long,” she says perkily. “I’ll see you when we get back,” she winks and heads for the door, closing it loudly behind her.

                I take a deep breath. Dear Merlin, that girl is going to get herself pushed off a tower one of these days.




                It’s about four o’clock when James comes.

                The nurse, who still seems a little annoyed about Alicia and Maeve’s visit earlier, leaves without any protest when James arrives. He sits in the chair Alicia was in and smiles.

                “How do you feel?”

                “Fine,” I say tightly. “And you?”

                “Pretty good,” he looks at the floor. “So…”

                “So…” I say. Could this be more awkward?

                “When will they let you come back to school?”

                “Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll go to half my classes on Friday, and they told me I could go to Hogsmeade to pick up my prescriptions and stuff the next day.”

                “That’s great,” he says. Silence resumes.

                “Have you read your brochures yet?” I say after a while, trying to break the quiet.

                He shakes his head. “Not too much. I flipped through them when they gave them to me, but it looks like they gave you a lot more than me,” he nods over at the large stack of shiny papers on my bedside table. “Mine were just baby names and stuff about child support.”

                I nod. “My friends looked at names for a while. They want to be godmothers.”

                He raises an eyebrow. “Godmothers?”

                “They have a habit for jumping the gun. Maeve especially.”

                He smiles. “That sounds like my cousin Rose.”

                I sit up a little straighter. “Speaking of your family… Alicia and Maeve said no one at school knows you’re the father.”

                “Oh. Yeah, I guess I didn’t really tell anyone.”

                “Well, can you tell someone before I get back? I’m coming home tomorrow afternoon, so…”

                He shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable. “My family is at the school, Isobel… and my girlfriend, telling her would make things sticky…”

                Hot anger rises to my cheeks. “And how do you think it is for me? I’m the one carrying the babies. I’m the one going through changes. I’m the one who was so exhausted from pregnancy she passed out in the middle of class! What, does that not match up to what you have to face? A couple sad family members and an awkward moment with your girlfriend?”

                “You forgot about the press,” he snaps. “Do you want to see your name in the headline? ‘James Potter knocks up Hogwarts student, expecting twins’? They’d rip you and me both. You’d be portrayed as some slut who seduced me and I’d be shown as some jerk who got a girl drunk and took advantage of her.”

                “They wouldn’t be too far off with you, now would they?” I say loftily.

                “Damn it Isobel!” He stands up. “I’ve done nothing but try to be pleasant with you! I came to visit you in the hospital! I tried to talk to you after the whole sex thing happened! And all I get from you is snippy comments.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I know you hate me, Isobel. I’ve seen the looks you and your friends give me. I’ve heard the disgusted sounds you make when you see me holding hands with someone, or hear my name in a history class or whatever. But what have I ever done to you?”

                “Oh, gee, I don’t know,” I say sarcastically, standing up. “Gotten me drunk and pregnant?”

                “Before that!”

                “Been a first class jerk. Maybe not to me, but-“

                “But nothing, Isobel. I’m done trying to win you over.” His voice becomes soft. “We’re going to be parents soon- you can’t be like this anymore. You can’t just shut me out or try to make me feel unwanted. We’re in this together now- there’s no way I can just leave my unborn children and their mom.” And with that he gets up, walks over to the door and shuts it carefully behind him.




A/N: Woohoo! Hospital drama. Fun stuff. I can’t believe it's chapter 9 alraedy!

The current story date right now is Wednesday, December 18th. You pick the year, it’s not too specific for me. Just thought it would be good for you all to know what the timeline is;) I’m looking forward to the next chapter- first day back at school as the pregnant girl! I wonder how Angie will take this news… Please rate and review!


Chapter 10: Chapter X
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]


                Disclaimer: Any towns, schools, characters and hospitals you recognize from the Harry Potter series do not belong to me.


“All dolled up and nowhere to be?” I tease, nudging Alicia in her side. It’s afterschool on Friday, and Alicia shocked us all by putting down her usual librarian attire and coming down into the common room wearing  into a low-cut, electric blue shark-bite tank and ripped (read: completely destroyed) jeans.

                She giggles somewhat sheepishly. “I actually have a… date? I got asked to sneak into Hogsmeade for dinner.” She bites her lip, trying to hide a smile. Maeve, who I thought was absorbed in Witch Weekly, squeals.

                “Who, who, who?” Maeve looks even happier than Alicia. She’s been bugging her since forever to go out on a real date with a “real guy,” not the nerds from Herbology who want to study with her. Oh course, no one really knows the definition of a “real guy” in Maeve’s world, so that’s not much to go on.

                “Christian McKullers. I’ve liked him for the longest time and now, finally, after ages he asked me to dinner at the end of Arithmancy.” Alicia blushes, clenching her silver clutch so tightly her knuckles turn white. Maeve sinks back a bit in her chair, her expression unreadable. It’s replaced in half a second with a grin.

                “That is tres romantic, ‘Lish.” She winks at her.

                “Why didn’t you tell us earlier? You know, like two seconds after he asked you?” I ask.

                Alicia turns slightly pink. “Well, he only asked me yesterday, and you know, you were getting home from the hospital and all, so…”

                “Oh,” I say. I look down. Things were worse than I’d thought- I’m now the talk of the school. Everyone looks at me weird, including my teachers. I’m officially out of the closet (in a non-gay way) and fucked. To make things worse, people still have no idea who the father is- and Angie, the annoyingly perky and friendly girlfriend of the still in-closet baby daddy, is trying to be “supportive.” So basically, she comes over and tries to help me carry my books and have these heart-to-hearts about all my options and how we can “get through this together” and stuff. She then asked what the triplets names would be.

                I’d really like to hex the kid who started the triplet rumor into oblivion. Twins, damn you. Get it through your fucking skull!

                Anyway, I might have unintentionally been the center of attention when I got back, stealing Alicia’s thunder from her first date-date. You know, to a nice shop with an adorable (yep, he’s pretty hot) guy who just so happens to be the keeper for the Hufflepuff quidditch team. Alicia shoots, she scores!

                “I’m sorry,” I apologize. “Have fun on your date.” I stand up and straighten her top. “Smile. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

                She laughs. “I won’t.” She waggles her fingers at Maeve and I and disappears into the portrait hole. I plunk down on the couch next to Maeve’s.

                Maeve turns the page of her magazine, frowning. “Why the hell do famous people always name their kids outrageous names?”

                “The Potters didn’t.” I wish in a second I could take it back. My friends and I have been avoiding James since we got back from the hospital. I’m a little annoyed no one knows, and Angie is still freaking me out- I do not want a stepmom for my kids. Not that she will be, of course. I hope.

                “You should name your kids some crazy name,” Maeve carefully places the mag down on the coffee table in front of us. “Like Corset and Bustier.”

                “Maeve! I am not naming my children after types of lingerie!”

                “Peanut Butter and Jelly?”


                “Number Eight and Number Nine?”

                “Not better.”

                “Treasure and Island?”

                “Yes, because they’re definitely going to become pirates.” I kick her gently. “How about I name them Christian and Alicia? You know, after our favorite new couple,” I laugh.

                “You don’t know their genders,” Maeve mutters.

                “You didn’t care about that when you suggested Corset and Bustier. I’m teasing, Maeve. Chill. I’m sure we can fit you and your new boy toy’s name in there somewhere. And when you’re done with sex and get bored, we’ll all look back on it and laugh.”

                “It’s not like I don’t want a serious boyfriend,” Maeve whispers, drawing her knees up to her chest.

                We sit for a moment, watching a group of fifth years whisper over in a corner. I honestly hope they’re not talking about me. Dear Merlin, I’m becoming paranoid.

                “What do you think my babies will look like?” I ask. Maeve looks away from the fifth years, exhaling loudly.

                “They’ll probably be brunette. And have pretty brown eyes, like yours. And if one or more is a boy, he’ll like quidditch. And if there’s a girl, she’ll be a goody two shoes like you.”

                “Cheers,” I whisper. “Do you think it’ll hurt to have two babies?”

                “Are they born at the same time?” Maeve asks curiously. I shrug. My stomach growls. I’m past my morning sickness now since they’ve given me some pills for it, but I’m hungry. All. The. Time.

                “Do you want to go down to the kitchens?”

                Maeve nods. “I need bacon. And for my laundry to be done. I think the houselves are skipping our dorm, all my stuff is in a pile and they STILL haven’t pick it up for the wash.”

                I get up and roll my eyes. Once you get to sixth year, you’re supposed to bring your own laundry down to be washed. Alicia must have told Maeve this several hundred times in our previous school years, asking her what she’s going to do once we get to sixth year and have to pick up after ourselves. You’d think by halfway through our term she would have caught on that Alicia wasn’t trying to freak her out.

                Sometimes I seriously worry about that girl.


                I carefully straighten one of the pills in front of me. I have nine in total, four different types. Apparently I should have been taking some of these since day one.


                “Flouratic Zynfloid,” Maeve picks up two orange pills and drops them into my hand. “Just take them and get on with it.”

                “They make me feel sick,” I whine. I don’t know when I got so whiny, but all I seem to do lately is complain. Soon Maeve will be referring me to the Elderly Ladies in Training Club so I can learn to knit and wear coats in 90 degree weather and such.

                I pop the orange capsules into my mouth and take a large swig of water. Maeve claps.

                I glance around the Great Hall. It’s completely crowded now and loud with chatter. A couple people have looked over at me and my many medications. Maeve notices them and sticks her tongue out, showing off her extreme level of maturity. She leans towards me.

                “James is over there,” she whispers, pointing over to the Gryffindor table. “You need to talk to him.”

                “About what?” I hiss. “He and I sort of had an argument, if you remember me telling you.”

                “You can’t shut him out because of a stupid spat, Isobel. He’s the father of your twins, whether you like it or not. And, as I recall, you said he said some shit about ‘stick together’ or something like that. Seriously, just go talk to him.” She brightens. “You two can go to Hogsmeade together! Alicia and I were going to hang out at the teahouse, and I know you can’t have caffeine, so…” she trails off. “You’d have a good chance to properly sort everything out without, you know, Healers interrupting.”

                I grimace. The term “potentially awkward” must never come up with Maeve. Still, she has a point.

                “I’ll see you later.” I grab my peacoat and stride as confidently as a pregnant teenager can to the Gryffindor table. James is having a laugh with a few of his mates, who’re eating sausages with waaay too much ketchup. Triple ew. I plop (all I can do now that I’m pregnant is “plop” now, no more ladylike lowering) down next to James, who looks down at me surprised.

                “Hey Is,” he swallows whatever is in his mouth loudly.

                “Isobel,” I correct.

“Sorry. Forgot,” he smiles. I clear my throat. His mates are looking at me like I’m insane.

“I was wondering,” I begin. Damn. I’ve never asked anyone on a date before. Not that this is a date or anything. “I was wondering if you’d, erm, come to Hogsmeade with me. So we can… talk properly. Without interruptions.” I glance sideways at his friends. They’re looking at James now, not me, as if he’s the one carrying two babies.

“Um, sure?” It sounds like a question when he says it.

“Oookay,” I saw awkwardly. “Then I’ll meet you at the gates?”

He just nods, looking at the tablecloth. I bite my lip and ease from the bench, making my way back to the safety of the Ravenclaw table.

“Dude, what the hell was that all about?” I hear one of them say as I walk away. Hah. Serves James right for every awkward moment he has to endure. He begins to stammer out a response. I duck my head and quicken my pace.

“Oi, watch it,” a deep voice says gruffly. Shit, I nearly bumped into someone. I brush the hair behind my ears, looking up at a handsome boy’s face and… Alicia?

“Oh, hi Isobel,” Alicia beams. “This is Chris. I don’t know if you two have officially met, but…”

“Hi,” I say. I can see why Alicia likes him- ruffled blonde hair, hazel eyes, very muscular. Not my type, of course, but hot nonetheless.

“Hi.” He nods at me. I wink at Alicia, who blushes deeply. She kept me up half the night talking about how much fun they had. She recapped their goodnight kiss at least fifty times before Maeve threw a pillow at her.

“We’re going to Hogsmeade later on,” Alicia grins. “Catch you later!” she wiggles her fingers and struts off, her hand linked with his.

I watch them sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Usually Alicia is a bit of an uptight people pleaser, but her smile seems so much more… genuine now. After just one date, too.

“Hey again,” I swing my legs over the bench and grab another capsule. “Did you see Alicia and Chris?”

Maeve shakes her head. “I think she’s really liked him for a long time.”

“Did she tell you?”

“No, but I did find a little heart with his initials in it under her bed. She’s so clichéd- I mean, seriously? Heart and initials? But I’m glad she’s happy.” Maeve stabs at her porridge.

“Aren’t you full of wisdom today,” I reach over and pat her on the head. She ducks away. “James said he’ll come to Hogsmeade with me.”

“Have fun.”


Maeve laughs, swinging her long red hair over her shoulder. She’s so lucky to be pretty. If I did that with my hair it would probably make me look like I had some kind of mental problem. Or like I had a fly on my head.

“Tell me everything when you get back, ‘kay?” Maeve picks up the newspaper and begins leafing through it. “I want to know how to contradict the press when your baby shocker with the son of world famous Harry Potter story is released.”

I glare at her and grab my bag, swinging out of the Great Hall. I highly doubt it’ll make the front page when James stops being a wuss and lets me tell people that he’s the dad.

I slow as I reach the doorway, fighting back the pregnancy exhaustion. I wish they’d given me ills to keep me from being so tired after hardly moving at all.

“Isobel!” I freeze. Shit. Behind me is Angie, practically bouncing down the corridor.

“Hey!” she bubbles. “I was just on my way out and thought I’d say hi.”

“Hi,” I say, trying not to sound sarcastic.

“So…” she slows her pace so she doesn’t walk in front of me. “James and you are going to Hogsmeade…”

I shrug. “Just the Arithmancy stuff.”

She nods. Merlin, her smile is nearly splitting her face in two. “James told me. I’m really glad you’re trying to catch up with all your schoolwork while you’re growing two babies inside you! Damn, I’d probably crack under all the pressure. Well, as always, if you need anything,” she sticks her thumb at herself. “I’m your gal!” She waves and skips off, looking quite pleased with herself. Is she American? I’ve never heard anyone say gal before. I shake my head. I wonder what she’d do if she knew James was the baby daddy.

Something tells me she wouldn’t be so nice anymore.




A/N: Ah, back at school again for the preggers girl! Sorry that I didn’t put in any getting-back moments, I was really excited about (insert drumroll) Christian! I’ll be introducing a lot of new characters in the next few chapters, and a few new dramas… move over, babies, here comes boy trouble!

A new reason to review has come up, aside from my usual begging… I want to know what you guys think about the babies. Name preferences, gender preferences, hair color preferences… I want to know what you all have in mind for the twins! Of course, I already have the names and genders picked out, but it would be funny to see if someone guessed the name of one of the twins.