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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!




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