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Chapter Two: Emotions
 


“Did you hear that?” Emmelyn exclaims as we enter my flat via fireplace. She had stayed with me throughout the check-up then we were both given the day off for illness. Before the healer came in I’d sobbed out everything that had happened that night and Emmelyn had been great. She even remembered to remind the healer that he could say nothing about my pregnancy to anyone. “We could hear the heartbeat! Inside of you!”

I collapse onto the couch and put my head in my hands while she brings the bag of potions that I am supposed to take into the kitchen, still talking about hearing the heartbeat and the other things the healer had said, “And no wonder you’ve been so sick and tired! The baby is sapping all the energy from you. That healer said he didn’t know how you even functioned without the proper potions – magical pregnancies are harder than muggle ones, you know. And now, even if it weren’t the end of your first trimester, you have the potions to make your morning sickness go away!” she’s walking back into the room now. I feel her sit beside me and sigh.

I don’t know why I’m so shocked shitless out of this whole ordeal, but I am. I’m more freaked out than I’ve ever been. Even more than when I first found out that I was pregnant. I just heard my baby’s heart. Whatever mistake I made, I now have a little witch or wizard growing inside me and, even though I don’t necessarily look pregnant yet, my baby has a heart. I guess it’s the fact that now that I’ve been to the healer, it’s more real than just having morning sickness makes it.

“Dominique? Are you okay?” Emmelyn takes a break from ranting about the heartbeat and whatnot to ask. How can she be so… energetic about this? True, she’s not pregnant so she isn’t drained, but still her best friend is. At the age of eighteen. With her sister’s fiancée’s baby. Shouldn’t she be a little less excited and a little more freaked out?

“Do you seriously have to ask that, Em?” My emotions, already so unstable, are literally flying off the broom handle here. I’m feeling more and more guilty, uneasy and relieved that someone is in on my secret, glad that I’ll finally have some relief from my sickness, angry at myself for getting myself into this, and ever since I heard the heartbeat – heard my baby – there’s something else that I can’t put my finger on. It makes no sense, this other feeling that I can’t really name. I didn’t want this baby how can I … feel like this? How can I worry about something – well, someone – that I didn’t even want to happen; something that I regret? How can I love this mistake? It doesn’t make sense at all.

I look up at Emmelyn and see that she’s studying me. “I don’t know what to tell you,” she admits. I lean my head back on the couch and roll over to look at her.

I have to smile wearily at her expression, “I guess this isn’t a typical friendship problem.”

She smiles back at me and her green eyes show her emotions, “How did you not tell anyone? Three months is a long time to keep a big secret.”

“How long have you and Fred been dating?” I countered.

Emmelyn bursts out laughing, “You can’t even compare those two, Dominique.” She says, and I laugh too.

“Well, I’ve only known for about two months,” I tell her, sobering up quickly.

“Still,” she says. Silence follows. I think, again, about what the hell I’m going to do. “What have you been thinking?” she asks after a while.

“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” I admit. I’ve tried to avoid actually thinking about it as if that would make it all go away. I’ve just been dealing with the sickness and fatigue and not really pausing long enough to think out a plan. Hell, if Emmelyn hadn’t found out like she did I don’t know if I’d ever get the guts to tell her. Running away to a different country had crossed my mind a few times, but I knew that I would never have done it. I probably would have tried to hide it until I went into labor during rounds or something.

“Well, now you have me,” she offers. “I can help.”

“Can you magically make the father of this baby some random guy on the side of the road?” I ask dryly. That would be about the only thing that would really help right now. I know that if I told my parents/relatives that I was pregnant by some random guy they would consider murdering me but probably get over it when I actually had the baby. They would be disappointed in me for being so mental and whatnot but I think they’d move on. However, if I told them I was pregnant with Victoire’s fiancée’s baby… they might actually go through with the murder. Whether that murder would be of me or Teddy, I’m not entirely sure but at least one of us would be dead.

I bang my head against the back of the couch. When I stop I see that Emmelyn is staring out of the window with her ‘lost in thought’ face on. I take a minute to be jealous of her. Her biggest problem is either that her boyfriend is going back to school tomorrow or that her best friend is pregnant. Okay, so it’s probably the latter but still that’s one hell of a lot better than actually being the friend.

“Is there anyway to claim that the baby isn’t Teddy’s?” she asks.

I shake my head, “I’ve thought about that but he’s a metamorphagous. The baby will probably pop out with it’s hair changing colors or something. That kind of trait has got to be pretty dominant.”

Emmelyn nods and goes back to thinking. I don’t know why she’s trying. There is no solution. Nothing I say or do will make this news better.

As we’re sitting there, me contemplating death and her trying to figure out some nonexistent solution, the fire turns green signifying that we are about to be interrupted. Emmelyn and I stand up. She looks at me questionably and I have no clue who it could be. I am guessing its one of my relatives but I haven’t seen them or talked to them in a while so I’m a bit stumped. I shrug at her and then I groan as Maman steps out of the fireplace. Bloody perfect. I pull my uniform coat over my stomach without thinking.

“Oh!” she jumps when she sees us. “I thought that you were at work, Dominique. Hello, Emmelyn.”

“Hello, Mrs. Weasley, how are you?” Emmelyn asks with a smile.

“I’m great, and you?”

“Just fine.”

With all the pleasantries over I speak up, “If you thought I was at work, why’d you come by my flat?” Even before I had excess hormones and a baby growing inside of me, I had a problem being civil with people (whereas my brilliant, perfect sister is so polite; such hippogriff shit – they didn’t see what she did to me behind their backs when we were little).

“I was going to leave you a note,” she tells me swinging her long sleek hair back. Sure, Maman, after you stalked me. As I said before, I haven’t seen any of my relatives in about two months out of fear, guilt, and just because I’ve been busy with work so naturally my mother would want to know what I was up to. She thinks it’s her right to know everything in all of her children’s lives and, because Louis still lives with them and Victoire is the perfect child, it leaves only me as the suspicious one. Oh the joys of being the middle child.

“Well, we were given the rest of the day off, so you don’t have to,” I smile at her. I hope that that didn’t sound rude. I’m trying to be nice, but I really just want her to leave. I’m not in the mood to deal with my mother right now – that and she always knows when something is not right.

For example, when I was ten and Louis was eight, we stole Dad’s wand one time when he was napping and Maman was at work. We didn’t get very far because the first thing I did was accidentally set it off and blast a hole in the wall. Now, it wasn’t a big hole and Dad wasn’t that upset (though I think this was because he hadn’t been watching us) so he just pushed a dresser in front of it and said no one would know. However, Maman came home and immediately knew something was wrong. Dad didn’t say anything and I swear she found that hole in three minutes flat. I was grounded for a month.

“You work too much, Dominique, you look exhausted,” she said walking over to me and taking my face in her hand. Oh, no. Too close. She’s bound to notice what little weight I have gained if she’s this close for too long.

I subtly walk away from her and around the table, “What did you need to tell me, Maman?” I ask.

“Of course,” she swings her hair again. It’s an annoying habit but unfortunately one that both Victoire and I have picked up. Though I don’t do it nearly as much as they do. They look like they have some sort of seizure every minute or so. “Well, this Sunday is the beginning of term so Grandma Weasley is having the dinner tomorrow and we’d like for you to be there to say hello and goodbye to your cousins. No one has seen you in months, and it might be nice if you were to make an appearance.”

I want to hit myself on the head. Of course there’s a dinner tomorrow night; there was always a dinner before the return to Hogwarts and everyone was always required to go. Usually no one fought hard against this as spending time with the Weasley/Potter clan was bound to be interesting, but showing up in my current condition was not something on the top of my “things to do” list.

“Oh, well,” I say looking to Emmelyn who gives me a ‘what can I do about it?’ look. Load of help, really.

Maman scowls, “I didn’t mean that to sound like it was an option, Dominique. Unless you have a solid reason why you cannot come tomorrow, I expect to see you at the Burrow at six o’clock.”

I open my mouth to retort but I can’t really say ‘I’m pregnant with your other daughter’s fiancee’s child’ so I close it again. She knows she’s won. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Oh, and Emmelyn, you are more than welcome to come. I was told to extend the invitation to you through Dominique.”

Maybe if Emmelyn’s there, it won’t be too bad. She and Fred and I can sneak off and… “That’s very considerate, Mrs. Weasley, but I have plan with my family tomorrow night. My little sister is starting her 7th year and we are having a family get together as well.”

I glare at her. There goes all hope that tomorrow will be tolerable. Well, I guess I still have Fred.

“What a shame,” Maman says. She turns to me and I compose my face. “Well, I best be off. I’m helping Molly with the food. Merlin knows why we continue to have the dinners at her house when the Potter’s house would be so much more convenient…” she trails off. “Tomorrow, six o’clock. Don’t be late.” She leans over and kisses me on the cheek then apparates away.

“If you were to avada kedavra me right now, I would come back as a ghost and keep you company in Azkaban,” I offer.

“I’m sorry, Dominique. I really do have plans with my family. I was supposed to spend all day with them, but I’m spending the morning with Fred,” she admits. I look at her and see that she’s blushing. Good. I groan. “Maybe it won’t be that bad?” Emmelyn says.

“Yeah, seeing the father of my child and his fiancé who happens to be my sister… surely that won’t be bad,” I mutter sarcastically. “Not to mention that Grandma Weasley has an uncanny ability to guess a persons weight upon seeing them.”

This is something that any Weasley/Potter will swear by, too. It’s not just me. As soon as you walk into the Burrow you are assessed and usually pronounced much to skinny for your own good. Grandma likes to make sure that you are nice and plump – and she’s damn good at it too, what with cooking skills to rival that of all the house elves at Hogwarts combined. But she would also notice things like who’s gained weight. She predicted Aunt Angelina’s pregnancy before Aunt Angelina had even realized that she might be pregnant, herself. And she was only about two and a half months in, too. Grandma Weasley has a gift and this gift is going to be my downfall.

Emmelyn and I sit in the living room discussing what to do and, ultimately come up with nothing. “I can’t believe this,” she says finally as the sun is setting in the window to my flat and the rush hour traffic outside is flowing steadily.

I grunt in acknowledgement. I’ve been waiting for this stage. Maybe it’s just beginning to sink in for her. “How could this have happened?” she asks.

I roll my head on the couch to look at her skeptically. “Okay, okay, I know that you already told me that story but… just…” she trails off shaking her head. “You’d think that you’d be able to say no, Dominique.”

Here comes the disappointment; I’m surprised it took her this long to get here. In school, sure, we were hardly ever without someone that fancied us but I don’t think that anyone considered us sluts. I mean we had boyfriends and random hook ups just like any teenager but we didn’t go shag in broom closets just because we could. I’d dated Chandler for almost a year and we never did it. Emmelyn dated Sean Finnigan from sixth year until the middle of our seventh and she’d still a virgin. We were pretty good at saying no and knowing where to draw the line.

I hope she still was. The thought of her and Fred… I don’t even want to go there.

“It’s not as easy as it sounds when you’re so pissed you can’t see straight,” I told her sharply. “I’m never drinking again. And you shouldn’t either!”

She looks at me, “You know I love you, Dominique. And I’m here for you. I … I just can’t’ believe that you got yourself into this.”

I close my eyes. What a turn around from her previous excitement at hearing the baby’s heartbeat, I think wearily. “I can’t believe it either, Emmelyn.”

We sit in silence again until my stomach growls. “I guess I am eating for two now,” I groan as I rub my belly. I realize how starving I am. “I’m going to make something for dinner. You want to stay and eat?”

Emmelyn looks at the clock hanging on the wall; it’s almost five. We would just be getting off of work now. “Actually, remember when I told you that the interns invited us to drinks earlier today? Well, I agreed to go.” She says. I feel my face fall. “I’m sorry, Dominique!”

I force a smile, “It’s okay. I guess I have to get ready for tomorrow, anyway. And I’m exhausted.”

She nods, still hesitant, and stands up. I pull myself up, “Monday?” I ask as I hug her goodbye.

“Sunday afternoon,” she answers as she gives me a tight hug back.

“See you then,” I smile. She waves then turns and is gone with a pop.

I sigh as I stare out the window. The sun is half hanging over the building across the street making it seem like it’s glowing. I turn on the lamp by the couch as I walk out of my living room and into the kitchen. Waving my wand, the light in this room comes on, too and I walk over to the fridge to see what I could cook.

In the fridge I have half a gallon of milk, about a pint of pumpkin juice, jelly, a half eaten turkey sandwich, mustard, and about a third of a stick of butter. Helpful. My stomach growls again. I mentally tell it to shut up, I’m trying.

I walk over to the pantry and throw open the door. I have a box of macaroni and cheese, two cans of soup, peanut butter, and a box of cereal none of which looks good. I close the door and look around the kitchen. What am I in the mood for?

I think of the near by restaurants – there’s a muggle hamburger and fries place down the road. Oohh. I could totally go for a nice, huge hamburger. With everything on it. Extra onions. And pickles.

I don’t pause to relish in the fact that I don’t even like onions or pickles as I rush to my room to change out of my uniform. I leave it in a pile on the floor and don’t look in the mirror as I pass it to grab my black sweat pants out of my dresser. Ever since about a three weeks ago when I couldn’t fit into my good pair of jeans, I made it habit to avoid looking at myself in the mirror from the chest down. I pull a plain blue sweater that compliments my eyes before walking back into the living room and pulling on my trainers. I grab my purse and shove my wand into the tight waistband of what used to by my loosest pair of sweats and exit my apartment, not taking the time to lock the door.

Walking at a fast pace down the stairs and out onto the busy street, I keep thinking about how good this hamburger is going to be. By the time I finally get to the restaurant and order my food to go, my mouth is practically watering. It takes way to long for them to get my food ready and as I’m waiting some muggle lady that appears to be in her mid-twenties starts talking to me.

“Thank God its Friday, eh?” she asks, smiling.

It takes me a second to realize that she’s talking to me and a second more to compose myself and not be rude. I’m hungry and agitated, don’t judge me. “Yeah, thank God.”

“I don’t know about you, but it’s sure been a long week,” she says, still making conversation.

“Definitely,” I agree. She doesn’t even know.

“My son’s been sick all week and you know how sick toddlers are,” she sighs. Then she looks at me and laughs. “Actually you probably don’t. What are you, barely twenty?”

What are you, nosy?
“Eighteen,” I cringe. What is it about being pregnant that makes all people with small children migrate towards you? Did someone stick a sign on my back that says ‘talk to me about your toddler?’

“Weasley?” calls the greasy teenager up front.

“That’s me,” I tell the lady.

“Oh, well have a good weekend,” she smiles.

“You too,” I tell her. I go up and grab my food, deciding to eat at home in order to avoid any other awkward conversations. As I’m leaving a little curly haired boy runs up to the lady that was talking to me and wraps his arms around her legs. She smiles and picks him up planting a kiss on the top of his head. I walk faster.



“Honey, I’m hooooome!” I blink awake and realize that the sun is shining directly into the window of my bedroom where I’m laying on top of the covers having passed out for a ‘short’ nap around noon.

I hear someone walking into my bedroom and I roll over knowing that anyone that would want to harm me wouldn’t announce their presence in such a way. “Well, well, what do you know? She lives.”  I smile and sit up as I hear my favorite cousin. “Trying to avoid me, Ms. Weasley?”

“I would never, Mr. Weasley,” I smile.

“Hmm,” Fred thinks, leaning against the doorframe. Then he gets ‘the look’ in his eyes and I brace myself. He takes off sprinting towards me and tackles me back down to my bed, tickling me. Sometimes, I swear that my younger cousin is really my older brother.

“Stop, stop!” I laugh, starting to worry. Fred sitting on my stomach tickling me probably isn’t the best thing for the baby.

“I don’t know,” Fred laughs back.

“Seriously, I’m sorry!” I say worried, squirming trying to get my stomach free of his arse. I don’t know what I can do and what I can’t, but having a fully-grown seventeen-year-old star beater sitting on my stomach definitely seems like a no-no.

“What’s up with you,” Fred cocks an eyebrow and climbs off of me.

“Big lunch,” I mutter sitting back up. “What’re you doing here, anyway?” I ask him.

“Well, seeing as you’ve been missing in action for the past two months,” he sent me a look, “I decided to come and make sure that you are attending my last farewell dinner.”

“Of course I am!” I tell him; I don’t need to mention that I was debating getting extremely ill about an hour before said dinner just a few hours ago.

“I can see that,” he says skeptically. “Especially now that its about an hour until and you’re still in your pajamas.”

Oh, yeah. I didn’t feel like changing this morning. Even if I didn’t have morning sickness this morning (those potions worked miracles!), I was still weak. The healer said that it would take a few days for the strength potion to kick in – something about how I’d allowed too much of my energy to deplete. Whoops.

I pull my mind back to my current problem, “It’s five thirty!?!” I ask. So much for a short nap. “Bloody hell!” I jump off the bed and practically sprint over to my dresser. I begin to search frantically for my biggest pair of jeans and a nice, fairly loose, white sweater I’d snatched from Emmelyn a while back.

Speaking of Emmelyn… “Hey, how was your date with my best friend,” I ask somewhat sarcastically as I walk into the bathroom and leave the door cracked so I can still talk to Fred.

He’s silent for a split second and, if you didn’t know him like I do, you wouldn’t have known that it was because he blushed. “She told me you figured that out,” he says.

“I can’t believe you would keep that from me, Fred,” I call as I change clothes. I leave my jeans unbuttoned knowing that I’d have to lay down to get them to fasten and begin to work with my crazy-looking hair. I pull it out of the ponytail that it’s been in since my shower last night and run a brush through it a few times before putting a straightening spell on it. It reached the middle of my back and once it was straight I brushed it a few more times before moving on makeup.

“We thought you would pull a freaker on us,” he said. “But Em said that you were surprisingly cool about it.” I sense a bit of suspicion in his voice. Uh-oh.

I finished applying what little make up I wore and open the door to the bathroom. I lean against the doorframe and look at Fred. He’s looking at me as if he’s trying to read my mind. I bite my lip unknowingly as I decide whether or not to tell him the main reason I didn’t ‘pull a freaker.’ It’s kind of hard to freak out about something as small as your two best friends dating when you’re growing a baby at eighteen.

“What’s going on?” he asks, standing up. “Em tried to hide it from me, but I know there was something she wasn’t telling me.” I scowl. He shakes his head at me, “And even if that hadn’t happened, I would have been able to tell by just looking and talking to you. You’re different.”

I guess I’ll have to tell him, then; make him the first of the family to know what a scarlet woman I am. “I know,” I sigh as I walk past him and lay on my back on my bed. I can practically feel his confused stare on me as I struggle to button my jeans; I’ve always been really fit no matter what I eat so this is bound to be confusing.

“You’re gaining weight?” he asks.

I finally get them to button and zip and I let out the breath I had sucked in and sit up uncomfortably, “That’s one way to put it,” I mutter. He looks even more confused. I curl my knees up to my chest and burry my head. “I’m pregnant,” I say into my legs.

Fred laughs, “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that,” he says and I feel the bed bounce as he plops down next to me.

“I’m pregnant,” I say again, not moving.

Fred sighs, agitated. I don’t blame him. “You are acting like Roxanne when she’s done something naughty,” he says. “I’m not going to judge you, Dominique.”

I let out a laugh. Not going to judge me my arse. “You think so?” I say bitterly looking at him, “I’m pregnant, Fred.” His jaw drops in complete and utter shock. Might as well tell the whole thing, “It’s Teddy’s baby.” 

A whole minute later, he’s still staring at me like I’ve just grown another arm out of my forehead. “Okay, yes, I know, I’m terrible. But now I have to go sit through a dinner with the family I’m about to be disowned from. So if you could just close your mouth,” I say as I stand up and walk out of the room. I go into the kitchen and open the cabinet above the sink to take out the strength potion I’m supposed to take at every meal.

“Are you going to tell them?” I hear Fred ask from the entrance to the kitchen.

“I wasn’t planning on it anytime soon,” I say as I measure out the right amount. “But I’ll have to before I just show up at the next family dinner eight months along.”

“H-How did this happen?” he asks as I plug my nose and swallow the potion.

“Probably the same way Roxanne did.”

He rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean, Dom. He’s your only sister’s fiancé!”

“Like I don’t know that,” I tell him sarcastically as I take out the last of my pumpkin juice and down it.

“Fine, let me try again. When did this happen?”

“That fucking end-of-the-year party,” I tell him as I throw the carton away and sit on the counter.

Comprehension seems to dawn on him now, “They broke up at that party,” he realizes. I nod. “I thought you seemed to disappear,” he muttered darkly.

“We were both recently dumped and he found me out in the forest. He brought firewhiskey and before I even knew what was going on, it was over,” I told him softly.

“I’m going to kill that bastard,” Fred says suddenly and spins on his heel. My eyes widen and I jump of the table and spring to catch him just as he throws floo powder into my fireplace.

“NO!” I say as I grab his arm. “You can’t, Fred!” he spins on me looking, literally, fit to kill. My eyes are tearing up – damn pregnancy – as I look at him. “You can’t tell anyone; not yet! I don’t even know what I’m going to do! You – you can’t kill Teddy; it’s not all his fault. I-I did it, too. I-I… H-he… b-but,” I try to explain but am cut short as huge sobs like I can never remember having before rake over me. I catch a glimpse of Fred (he looks completely terrified) before he wraps me into a huge hug. I sob into his muscular chest, again, almost exactly like I had with his girlfriend only yesterday. Being pregnant really screws you up.

“Dominique, calm down,” he says softly. “I won’t kill him, okay? I won’t even hex him. I’ll be nice and civil until we come up with a plan, okay?” I nod into his chest, liking the way he said ‘we' meant I wasn’t alone in this, but I still can’t stop crying.

“Dom,” he says after a while as I’m finally getting a hold of myself. “We have to go to the dinner – do you think you can do it?”

I nod as I pull away, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what wrong with me.” That’s a lie; I’m pregnant.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m here for you, okay?”

I nod, “Let my go wash my face and clean up and we can go.” He nods and as I leave I see him drying off the tearstains in his shirt with his wand. My stomach turns in guilt but I do feel a little better now that my two best friends know and don’t completely hate me. If I can just make it through this dinner tonight, I might live long enough to figure out some sort of plan.




****

A/N: I was totally planning on including the dinner in this chapter, but it just got too long. (there's always some type of dinner in my stories, isn't there? well this is a back-to-Hogwarts one, so. haha.) So anyway, now a total of three people know: Emmelyn, the healer, and Fred. Poor Dominique! IT'S THANKSGIVING BREAK! Thank MERLIN. I'll finally be able to write more, so yay. AND in the spirit of Thanksgiving Break, I want to say how grateful I am for the awesome response to this story! It's been favorited like 50 times and I have 50 reviews! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! Please continue to review, they make me really happy and when I'm really happy I write! haha.
Next chapter features the dinner, I PROMISE. =]

over and outt.
HPsmartone32

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