Chapter 9 : Parents Dispute
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Sometimes I wish was an animagus. Like right now, for instance. If I could turn into a bug or a bird or even a mouse, I could run out of this dressing room and live forever as an animal. Life would be simpler, wouldn’t it? You mate with hundreds of different partners and nobody cares whether they’ve been with your cousins or not, because the chances are the thing you’re mating with is probably your distant cousin anyway. But do you care? No, because you’re a bloody insect and have no idea what a cousin is. And if I were an animal and pregnant, I’d probably just end up eating my baby when it’s born. Problem solved.
But unfortunately I am a human witch, trapped inside this Gryffindor dressing room with Fred, James, Al, Dom and Malfoy staring at me with looks of pure astonishment on their faces. I can’t even run out the door because they’re blocking it. And even if I did run outside, there’d be hundreds of students laughing and pointing at me as if I were some sort of freak.
James is the first to recover from my bombshell. He coughs uncomfortably, runs his hand through his jet black hair (as he always does) and shifts on his feet for a while.
“H-how?” he asks incredulously.
“Would you like me to draw you a diagram?” I snap angrily.
What a ridiculous question.
“No, I mean...who’s the father?”
Al, Fred and Dom nod and Malfoy looks really hopeful that I’m about to say some random name. But I don’t say any name. I just keep looking at Malfoy, as if trying to tell him subliminally that it’s his baby. But he just stares back determinedly because he won’t believe it until I say it.
“Hold on a second,” says Al, “why are you looking at him?”
Al is looking between Malfoy and me in extreme confusion. Dom starts laughing, but it’s too high-pitched and nervous to be credible as a real laugh.
“You’re joking,” she laughs, “this is one of your weird jokes, isn’t it Rose? It’s like that time you ran around dressed as a Dementor at Nana and Grandad’s wedding anniversary…we just don’t get it, right?”
Again, I say nothing and look down at my feet because I can’t look at Malfoy any longer.
“Rose!” she demands, “Tell me you’re joking.”
I shake my head sadly. Oh why did it have to happen like this?
“Him?” cries Fred, pointing at Malfoy.
“You’re not serious, Red,” James joins in.
I’m barely even listening to them any more. Dom has gone completely silent and Malfoy is speechless. I feel like I’m going to break down in tears any minute.
“How could you be so stupid, Rose?” Al cries, sounding just like Dad.
“Just shut up!” I scream, “I don’t need you saying this shit to me, Al!”
Al, James and Fred all turn to Malfoy now. He’s gone a hell of a lot paler than he usually is. He actually looks like he’s about to faint.
“You slept with my cousin?” Al says quietly, but we can hear the definite anger in his steady voice.
“I – I erm…”
James and Fred draw their wands and point them at him, but they lower them ever so slightly when the door bursts open and in walks Coach Wood and Professor Chang. Wood looks really angry while Chang looks like she’s about to cry - but then again, she always looks like that.
“What the hell’s going on? Why are half the Gryffindor team in here? Malfoy, you shouldn’t be in the Gryffindor changing room!” Wood barks.
“Potter, Weasley, lower your wands,” Chang orders.
The do, but grudgingly so. Neither takes their eyes off Malfoy for one second.
“Rose, come with me,” says Chang before walking briskly out of the changing room.
“Oi! Wait a second! What about the match?” I hear Wood calling as I follow Chang out the door. That man really doesn’t have a sensitive bone in his body. Chang is walking so fast that I have to practically run to keep up with her. Thankfully when we reach the school the corridors are empty due to the fact that almost every student in Hogwarts is at the Quidditch stadium trying to process what the hell is going on. Chang leads me up to the Headmaster’s office. As soon as we walk in the door, I’m pulled into a tight embrace by-
“Aunt Ginny?” I exclaim.
“Professor Flitwick contacted me when he couldn’t get through to your parents – don’t worry about them, they’re fine – what happened?”
Flitwick makes me sit down on the chair in front of his desk and explain everything. At first I’m too distraught to even think straight, but by the time I’m finished explaining the situation, Flitwick looks surprised, Chang indifferent and Ginny shocked to hear who the father of my baby is. Well I couldn’t leave that detail out could I?
“It’s alright Miss Weasley,” says Flitwick kindly, “you’re not the first Hogwarts student to get pregnant and I doubt you’ll be the last.”
Hmm, there’s a relief. Now how about erasing every student in Hogwarts’ memory?
“Have you been to see Madam Pomfrey?” he asks.
“Yes, on Wednesday.”
“And you’ve spoken with the Malfoys?”
Come again? The Malfoys?
Does he really expect me to sit down with not only Scorpius, but Draco and Astoria Malfoy and explain the situation? Hmm, maybe I could invite my parents and Mum could punch Draco in the face again, like she apparently did in her third year. That wouldn’t be awkward at all. In about five years I’ll be telling my kid the story of how “Grandma punched Grandpa in the face”.
Scratch that, how “Grandma punched both your Grandpa’s in the face”. My mother really isn’t as charming as she makes herself out to be. I’m surprised I’ve turned out so normal with parents like mine.
Yes, I consider a pregnant sixteen year old who talks to herself in her head and considers spending her life (or afterlife) haunting toilets as perfectly normal, thank you very much.
As Flitwick rambles on about something else, I tune out completely. It doesn’t look like Professor Chang is listening to him either. She’s looking – no, glaring – at Aunt Ginny with the utmost contempt. I can see that Ginny’s trying her best to look interested in what Flitwick’s saying, but she keeps glancing over at Chang out of the corner of her eye. And I recognise that look. It’s the same look she gives James when he does something really bad like the time he blew up the garden shed or tried to make Al play with a time turner when he was about seven. It’s that look she gives when she’s really annoyed about something or someone.
Before I can even begin to wonder why Ginny and Chang are shooting each other death glares, a woman in her forties appears in the fireplace behind Flitwick’s desk. He jumps in fright but when he turns around to see who it is, he relaxes.
“Oh, it’s you Mrs Weasley,” he says kindly.
It’s Auntie Audrey, but what she’s doing here is a mystery to me.
“Hello Professor. Ginny, I hope you don’t mind me tagging along,” she says, “Rose, I’ve heard about your – erm – little problem.”
I’ve always noticed that when Auntie Audrey talks about something she considers to be shameful or beneath her, she uses the word “little” to describe it as if to undermine it. For instance when ever she talks to Uncle George about “Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes” she calls it “your little joke shop”, something that pisses George off to no end. She’s just as annoying as Uncle Percy, if not more. She’s not exactly the most striking woman. Yes, she’s good looking in a very conventional sense, but I have the sneaking suspicion that she was born without a personality. She never wears her mousy coloured hair down but always tied back in a tight knot. She wears this awful red lipstick all of the time and constantly has the appearance of someone who has just been tremendously insulted or has a very bad smell under her nose. In my opinion, she’s a stuck up know-it-all with delusions of grandeur and I’m not the only one in the family who thinks so. I know for a fact she’s Nana Molly’s least favourite daughter in law. Mum tries her best to be nice to her, but Dad isn’t able to stay in the same room as her for more than five minutes without cracking up. And I’ve once heard Uncle Harry say she’s his Aunt Petunia in witch form…whatever that means.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying not to sound rude, but I don’t think it’s worked.
“Well I heard about your situation –”
“Wait, how the hell did you hear?” I exclaim. I know she won’t take kindly to my use of the word “hell” but I really don’t give a damn right now.
“Well I was at the Potters’ when Ginny received the message from the Headmaster –”
“Audrey,” Ginny chips in, “I told you I could handle this myself.”
“Yes, yes I know but there’s strength in numbers! Two heads are better than one! Many hands make light work!”
“Yes, we get the picture,” I say gloomily. She’s the last person I want or need here right now. I don’t need her looking down her nose at me as if I’m some sort of insect. That’s exactly how she’s looking at me right now.
There’s a knock at the door and in walks Wood followed closely by Malfoy, looking very shocked and angry indeed. I feel Ginny tense up beside me and she grabs my hand for support because she knows I’m going to need it now more than ever. And although I really appreciate all she’s done for me, I think I really need Mum.
“Right,” Wood starts, “does someone want to explain to me why one of the most important Quidditch matches of the season has been abandoned in mid air?”
“Wood,” Chang hisses, “do you ever think of anything other than bloody Quidditch?”
Wood goes to protest, but Flitwick puts up a tiny hand to stop him. Despite his size, Flitwick has the power to shut even Coach Wood up with just the raise of a hand. Apparently size doesn’t matter.
“I think a rematch is in order, Wood,” says Flitwick, “please announce that the game has been cancelled.”
Wood looks livid but he doesn’t argue. He storms out of the office and slams the door behind him like some sort of moody teenager. Ginny and I are sitting in front of Flitwick with our backs to Malfoy, who seems to be incapable of speech right now. Auntie Audrey is checking her reflection in the mirror beside the portrait of Professor Dumbledore. I’m almost certain I saw him roll his eyes at her.
“Mr Malfoy, have a seat,” says Flitwick, conjuring up a chair right beside mine. Thanks, sir.
Malfoy slowly walks over to the chair and slumps onto it, deliberately avoiding my glances. He’s determined not to look at me at all. I suppose I can’t blame him – I’d hate me too if I were him.
“This is obviously a very sensitive topic,” Flitwick starts, but again he is interrupted by two people walking out of the fireplace behind his desk. I recognise the red haired man followed closely by the bushy-haired woman – my parents. They’re blatantly ignoring each other, much in the same way Malfoy is ignoring me.
“Ron! Hermione!” Ginny exclaims. I have to admit I’m just as shocked as her that they’ve actually showed up, never mind together.
Dad looks like he wants to jump on Malfoy and strangle him to death.
“We’ve only just got the news…we were in Hogsmeade when the owl found us,” says Mum. What on earth were they doing in Hogsmeade?
Mum sits down on one of the chairs Flitwick has conjured up. She looks awful. I know it’s only been a week since I’ve seen her, but it looks like she hasn’t even brushed her hair since then, never mind washed it and she has dark circles under her eyes like you wouldn’t believe. Dad doesn’t look much better. His beard is extremely scruffy looking – Mum’s always on at him to shave it off but right now it looks like he’s never shaved in his life. His hair obviously hasn’t been washed or brushed either – honestly, what did I do to deserve such stinking parents?
And I mean literally stinking.
“Now that we’re all settled,” Flitwick starts again, “there are some issues that need to be –”
And the noise of roaring flames from the fireplace behind him once again interrupts his pending speech.
“Oh for the love of Merlin!” he squeaks and jumps around to see who it is.
First out of the fireplace is a tall, thin woman with black hair and very dark eyes. Her pale skin and red lips make her look like a vampire of some sort, but when she smiles at me, she looks friendly enough. Then I realise that she’s not actually smiling at me – she’s smiling at Malfoy.
“Scorpius, sweetheart, what’s going on?” the woman asks, swooping down and kissing him on the cheek. Scorpius pushes her off and rubs his cheek.
“You shouldn’t have come, Mum,” he mumbles.
That’s Scorpius’ mother? I’ve never seen her before as it’s usually Malfoy’s Dad who drops him to Kings Cross every September. Scorpius really doesn’t look anything like his mother, except maybe for their dark eyes. Otherwise, it would be hard to tell they were even related.
A man appears out of the fireplace a few seconds later and I instantly recognise him as Draco Malfoy. Dad looks fit for murder right now. Behind his very long, shaggy red hair I can see his blue eyes narrowing in disgust at the arrival of Mr Malfoy. And by the looks of things, Mr Malfoy feels the exact same way about him. Draco is practically bald and the little hair he has left is a lighter blonde colour than his son’s.
“Mr and Mrs Malfoy,” says Flitwick conjuring up even more chairs. Seriously, there are more chairs here than in a bloody furniture shop.
“It’s getting quite crowded in here,” says Ginny, noticing the obvious tension that has been building up with every new arrival to the office, “Audrey, perhaps you and I should go back to my house…”
“Hmm? Oh, yes,” says Audrey distantly, fixing her eyebrows in the mirror. She obviously hasn’t even noticed that my parents and the Malfoys are here.
Ginny smiles encouragingly at me, grabs Auntie Audrey by the arm and drags her over to the fireplace. She grabs a handful of Floo Powder and says “Woodgate House” and disappears into the fire. Audrey does the same before mouthing “Owl Me” to Mum, who is barely even looking.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” Flitwick continues, “the –”
“Scorpius,” Draco drawls, as if Flitwick hadn’t been speaking at all. Flitwick jumps off his chair, sighs heavily and stalks out of his office as if admitting defeat. It seems that nobody else has noticed. Wow, we’ve managed to drive the headmaster out of his own office.
“What the hell is going on here?” Draco shoots at his son. Malfoy shrugs. His head is resting on his hand and he’s staring intently at the floor.
“Don’t ignore me,” Draco hisses, “What have you done this time?”
“Draco,” Mrs Malfoy says softly, but her husband shushes her.
“Look, we know it’s serious – we’ve gotten owls home before but we never expected to be called in urgently! You must have really screwed up this time!” Draco says, his voice getting stronger and louder with each word.
“That’s all I am, isn’t it? A big screw up,” Scorpius mutters.
“Don’t even try to worm your way out of this one!” Draco shouts, “Tell us what you’ve done!”
“I apparently got her pregnant!” Scorpius shouts, pointing at me but still not looking at me. I can’t pretend that that didn’t hurt.
Oh no, Draco’s going to start on me…how do you do a stunning spell again?
“What?” Draco whispers in disgust. Mrs Malfoy and Draco are now looking from me to Scorpius.
“Her?” Draco shouts, “A Weasley? You got a Weasley pregnant?”
Dad stands up suddenly. He’s much taller than Draco, but he doesn’t seem intimidated.
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Dad snaps.
“I was wondering when you were going to speak up, Weasley,” Draco sneers, “Finally grew a back bone?”
“I’ll smack you into next week if you don’t shut your mouth,” Dad hisses. Mum stands up and tries to calm Dad down, but he shrugs her off. Draco does the same to his wife, Astoria.
“This is all your fault, Weasel,” says Draco, “you’re jumped up little slut won’t ruin my son’s chance of getting a job at the ministry.”
Dad lunges at Draco, but Scorpius gets there before him and punches his father so hard that he falls to the ground with a thud. Astoria gasps and clasps her hands over her mouth.
“Don’t – talk – about – her – like – that,” Scorpius hisses.
Draco stares up at his son, his eyes filled with shock and anger. Nobody speaks for a moment – even Mum and Dad forget their petty squabbling and look at each other in shock. Astoria looks so ashamed of her husband and son that I almost feel sorry for her.
“I gave you everything,” Draco murmurs, wiping the blood off his nose, “You’re nothing but an ungrateful, spoiled little brat!”
“Whose fault is that? Your Death Eater father spoiled you just like my Death Eater father spoiled me!” Scorpius shouts.
Seriously, I can almost see it.
Scorpius, with one last contemptuous look at Draco, storms out of the office, slamming the door behind him. Astoria runs to Draco and fixes his nose with the wave of her wand. Draco pulls himself up off the ground and turns to me and my parents, with blood still on his chin and shirt.
“I promise you,” he says darkly, “that my boy will have nothing to do with her –” he points at me, “– or her sprog. That’s a guarantee.”
And he disappears into the fire without another word.
“I…I’m so sorry,” Astoria Malfoy says to me and Mum, “he…he’s just…”
She trails off. Mum nods understandingly and Astoria follows Draco into the fire. So they’re just abandoning their son at a time like this? Wow, and I thought my parents were bad. At least they stayed to talk it out with me. Then again, I didn’t break one of their noses.
And now, somehow, it’s just me, Mum and Dad left in Flitwick’s office. Mum rushes to me and embraces me as if we haven’t seen each other in months.
“Oh Rose, we thought something awful had happened when we got the letter. I’m so glad you’re alright.”
“Alright?” I exclaim, “You think I’m alright? Laura Phelps announced to the entire school that I’m pregnant and you think I’m alright?”
Dad coughs uncomfortably. None of us say anything for a few minutes.
“So…” I start, “have you two made up then?”
Mum frowns and Dad looks at the floor, his ears flushing red. I’ll take that as a no.
“Listen sweetheart,” says Mum, “we understand that you’re under a lot of stress at the moment and we’re so sorry to put even more on you…it doesn’t mean that we don’t love you –”
“You’re getting a divorce?!” I splutter.
Mum and Dad look at each other uncomfortably.
“Um,” Dad starts, “we’re just…taking a break.”
Oh how very Ross and Rachel.
“I’m staying in Hogsmeade for a while,” says Mum, “so I can be near you if you need me. Your father was just helping me move when we got your letter.”
“And what about you?” I ask Dad, “Do you not want to be near me?”
“Don’t start, Rose,” says Dad tiredly. I hate the way he doesn’t call me “Rosie” anymore. It’s like he’s accepted that I’ve grown up prematurely.
I run from the office with tears brewing in my eyes without saying another word to them. My life can’t get much worse than this. I can’t bring a child into such a dysfunctional, broken family like the one I’m being forced to live with. Both its grandfathers will hate it – what kind of environment is that for a child? I can’t do this. I was fooling myself when I thought I could.
I run and run through the corridors. People are pointing and whispering about me – it feels like my first day in Hogwarts when people would point at Al, Dom and I because we were related to Harry Potter. Except this is so much worse. I’m the laughing stock of the entire school.
I’m running really fast now and my vision is blurred because I’m crying so much. I don’t even know where I’m going at this stage. I eventually reach an empty corridor and sit in a corner because I feel like if I run any further, I’m going to collapse. I wish I had James’ invisibility cloak right now. I hear a cough.
And here he is, standing right in front of me, a completely sombre look on his face – that stupid, Scottish, blonde-haired, attractive git. He’s leaning up against the wall opposite to me and slides down it onto the ground so we’re at eye level.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Malfoy asks quietly.
“I don’t know,” I shrug, “I didn’t know how.”
“Did you not think I had the right to know?” he says angrily.
“When the hell was I supposed to say it?” I snap, “While you were snogging Dom?”
“How about when I was snogging YOU?”
“Just leave it, Malfoy,” I sigh, “you have nothing to worry about anyway.”
“I’m going to become a father and I have nothing to be worried about?” he says incredulously.
“You don’t,” I say, “because you’re not going to be a father.”
He looks very confused and tilts his head to the side in a way that I find quite cute. Oh well, I can’t exactly think like that anymore. I’ve officially messed up any chance I ever had with him.
“I’m giving it up for adoption.”
Again, I will plead with you to NOT hate me!! Just so you know I am a Ron/Hermione shipper all the way (I dont like Draco/Hermione, but I've read a few good ones) and if you do love Draco, sorry I made him such a b.........brat. Anyway, thanks for reading, please review! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I hope I didnt keep you waiting too long for this one! AND thank you to anyone who recommended my story in the HPFF forums! AND thanks for reading, reviewing, favouriting my story, or all three! Wow, this is a long A/N...anyway, I won't keep you from your REVIEWING!
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