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You Don't Know Me by mr cool cat
Chapter 1 : Positive
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 10

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Author's note: So I'm revising this story. I always was happy with it, but I was reading through it the other day and I was so frustrated with all the grammatical errors I made four years ago. It's basically the same, just a little few. And of course I'll be finishing it this time. Enjoy!










Thank you so much to stealingETERNITY at TDA for the chapter image!

Slow down you crazy child,

You’re so ambitious for a juvenile,

But if you’re so smart,

Tell me why are you so afraid?

--Billy Joel “Vienna”


Five cups with pink liquid in them sat on the counter, mocking me.

“Looks like you’re—“Lily began to say, but I cut her off.

“Are you sure that pink means positive?” I asked anxiously. I pick up the box that the potion came in and read the instructions. Pink for positive, blue for negative, it says. I slumped back onto the toilet seat and look up at Lily.

“The muggle ones say the same thing too, Em.” Lily told me. She actually seems excited by the idea. Then again, she doesn’t know the full story.

I look down in the sink, at the muggle tests. Luckily Lily got the ones without little dots and lines, but rather the ones that tell you straight up.

Pregnant, the first, second and third ones read. The fourth one gives me a little bit of hope.

“Ooh!” I said happily, grabbing the fourth one, “This says ‘Not pregnant’!” Lily laughs at my hopeful cry.

 “That’s the one I took,” She replied. I throw it down roughly and put my head in my hands.

“This can’t be happening to me,” I groaned. She pats my shoulder maternally and gives out a sigh.

“It’s not the end of the world, Emily.”

But it is. Everyone knows having a baby is the end of youth. I can’t go out whenever I feel like it, and the only reason I’ll be up at three in the morning are to feed a hungry child. Plus my career is ruined. I know a lot of women say that, but they can usually go back to work. I, however, am a photographer for some of the best fashion magazines in the world! I travel around the world and am well-known for my amazing shoots. I’ll probably have to quit right away too, the magazine world is not forgiving to fat people.

“I’m home!” A man’s voice called out, bringing me out of my self-pitying moment. Lily rushes to pour all of the potions down the sink and I throw the muggle tests out in the trash bin.

 “Hi Frank!” Lily yelled back as she hurries out of the bathroom. I follow behind her and into the living room, where Frank is.

 “Hey beautiful,” Frank said, embracing Lily and giving her a long kiss on the lips. They can be so revolting sometimes.

This is actually all their fault. The reason why there is a child growing in my uterus is because of their bloody engagement and the stupid party that Ginny had to have for them. If they didn’t have that party, then I wouldn’t be a single mother without a job.

I guess it isn’t their complete fault. The dress is to blame as well. I tried it on because it was beautiful, and when Sam declared I looked “fucking gorgeous,” I figured that I should get it, even if I didn’t have an occasion for it at the time.

So when I got the invitation for Lily and Frank’s party, I had to wear the damn dress, and if I hadn’t worn that dress, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

“Hi Emily,” said Frank when they finally break apart, lips swollen. They’re like a pair of horny teenagers. “Are you having dinner with us?” he asks.

Lily looks hopeful, she wants to help and she doesn’t want me to be alone. “No,” I replied anyway, “I really have to get going. Thanks for the help Lils,” Then I grab my purse which was sitting on their couch and walked to the door.

“Emmy, wait!” Lily said quickly, and then runs to me. “You never told me who the father is.” She whispers.

I look over at Frank who isn’t paying attention; he’s already plopped on the sofa and turned on the telly.

“I’ll tell you later,” I whispered back.

 “Please tell me you know who it is,” she said warningly.

That’s the problem actually. I know exactly who the father of my child is, and I’m in denial. I don’t want to think about it, let alone tell anyone. Besides, the last person who I’m about to tell is Lily, when she’s his freaking cousin.

“For Merlin’s sake, do you really think I’m that much of a slut!” I replied. She is giving me a weary look.

“Yes,” I reassured her. She lets out a sigh of relief and then opens her arms, asking for a hug. I accept it and hug her tightly.

“It’s going to be alright, I promise.” Lily said.

“I know,” I lied.

Because I know that it won’t be okay, because the father of my child is Hugo Weasley.


Hugo Weasley and I have a past. Not like a romantic past or anything, but we have a past. His cousin is my best friend, so I saw him almost as much as I saw her. Plus his friends and my friends were very close in our school days. Hugo and I, however, hated each other.

I mean despised each other. We fought about everything, and hardly ever talked, just yelled. Looking back on it, we fought about the stupidest things, like whether or not blue could be considered a earth tone. He said it was because it was part of the earth, but he’s a boy, he knows nothing about colour schemes!

Lily says that we’ve always argued because we are so alike. I don’t see what she means though; he’s an arrogant Casanova who always has to get his way while I’m a sophisticated smart woman. Sure I like to have a little fun, and yeah, maybe I could drink him under the table, but we’re much different. I’m much more mature than him, for one.

That night was different though; we were more civil to each other and spent a lot of time together. We laughed and we drank and then we started arguing. At the time the argument was sort of a kind of messed up foreplay, I can’t even remember it now—that’s how drunk I was. All I remember was saying something like “You always have to disagree with me,” and of course he responded that I was wrong. “Prove you’re right,” I remember saying, and then I tested him, “sleep with me.” Next thing I knew, we were making love in James Potter’s childhood bedroom. The worst part was that he was actually good…the best I’ve ever had, in fact.

The next morning I had woken up with an awful headache and full of regret. Lucky for me, Hugo just saw me as another shag, so it wasn’t like it meant anything to either of us.

Until now of course. Now I’m bloody pregnant from a one night stand and now this has to mean something.

It’s around 5:30 on a breezy night in August, this is my favourite time of year. I pass Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor, where three girls are sitting outside laughing. They look around 15 and they’re laughing at something that must have been hilarious from the looks on their faces. They remind me of Sam, Lily and me when we were that age.

We were in love with Diagon Alley (which could be the reason why we all live here now that we are adults). We would meet up in the summer to buy school supplies while our parents talked about “how much everything’s changed since the war”, when we were old enough to come without our mums we met up at least once every two weeks to go shopping and to have a gossip and tea. We had a happy-go-lucky mentality and thought we were the bees-knees.

I start getting a little teary-eyed and then I realize how pathetic I am. I’m becoming one of those losers who reminisce about their days at Hogwarts, because that was the only time that they were actually popular. Best of all, I’m going to be a single mother to fit the part as well! This was not how I pictured my life.

I walk up to the building in which I know Hugo lives, and I sigh before entering. I walk in before I can change my mind, and ask the man at the desk if Hugo Weasley is home.

“He says to come right up,” the man said, after hanging up the phone. I walk to the lifts and get in one. I look into the mirrored walls on my way up to make sure I’m decent.

My sister once told me that she was jealous because I was a ‘pretty crier’. No matter how much I cried, my eyes never got red and puffy. Its times like this that I’m a ‘pretty crier’, not only does Hugo suck dealing with emotions, but I don’t want him to think that something’s wrong when I walk in.

The lift finally opens and I walk to his door. I wait a moment before knocking; because once I knock I’ve got to tell him.

He opens the door in his boxers and a pair of socks. Does this man have any shame?

Oh god, what if another girl is here.

“Hi Emily,” he said groggily.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” I asked nervously. I’m kind of hoping that I am, just so I don’t have to tell him.

“Yeah, my nap.” He replied, gesturing for me to come in.

“You were napping? It’s almost six, when were you planning on getting up?” I asked.

Hugo just shrugs, “I dunno, I guess whenever I got hungry.” I wish I could live my life like this. It’s a Sunday which usually means errands for me, and he has time to nap.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks me. I’m craving a firewhiskey so badly, but I have a feeling that that would be off-limits.

“Water would be fine,” I tell him and sit down on one of his couches while he treads into the kitchen. He come back moments later and sits down across from me, still in his underwear.

“So what’s up?” he asks, taking a sip of the drink that I’m dying for.

“Hugo,” Just say it Emily, I tell myself. “I’m pregnant.” I said quickly, but he still hears it.

He looks unfazed, if anything confused. He takes another sip and says, “Congratulations.”

He doesn’t get that he is the father.

“Thank you,” I responded, “but it’s also yours.” I added slowly.

His eyes get wide. “With a baby?” he said in shock.

I give him a ‘are you kidding me?’ look, “no Hugo, with a cow.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, it is your child,” I hear him mutter, and I kick flick him off.

“Are you sure it’s mine?” he asks. For goodness sake why does everyone think I’m such a slag?!

“One-hundred percent positive,” I said.
There is an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, he seems to be thinking really hard and looking around the room.

“We don’t have to get married or anything, right?” he asked nervously. I shutter at the idea of the rest of my life with Hugo and replied with a harsh, “no.”

“It’s the twenty first century; some women have children without husbands on purpose.” I continued. “I can raise this baby alone,”

I was actually hoping he would say he would financially supportive, but I don’t want to ask him for money. I’d rather pop warts on a Hippogriff’s belly than ask Hugo for any sort of help, even with his own child. “But I figured you should know.” I finish.

Hugo nods and I get up to leave. “Emily,” he said when I reach the door. I turn around and look at him. “I want to be part of this baby’s life. I want to be its father and, you know, I’ll help out with money.”

I let out an involuntary sigh of relief. “That’s great, Hugo. I’m proud that you’ve finally grown up.”

 “I’ll be there for you too, if you want me to come to doctor’s appointments or anything really. I want to go through the pregnancy like any other man would with his child’s birth.”

He smiles and runs his fingers through his curly brown hair. His smile, which is so attractive, makes everything seem almost okay.





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