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                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.



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