Credit: Lovely chapter image by ladycobra!
Vivian latched a firm hand on Dollie’s mouth, her bloodshot eyes wild with fear.
“Godric’s garters, Doll! Why don’t we just ask Dumbledore to include it in the morning announcements? That way, the whole castle can be informed properly, rather than you shouting it in the hallway.”
Pushing Vivian’s sweaty hand away, Dollie grimaced as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. When Lily had told her Vivian had recently been acting more erratic and melodramatic than usual, Dollie never for one moment considered this possibility. At most, she naturally assumed some random bloke was behind the behaviour. Turned out a bloke only made up part of the problem.
“When you say ‘pregnant’, do you mean ‘with child’ pregnant or ‘I’m feeling bloated’ pregnant?” When Vivian merely snorted in reply, Dollie went in another direction. “Blow me down... How did this happen?”
Vivian tilted her head to the side and regarded Dollie with narrowed eyes. “See, when a man and a woman really love each other, they get these urges -” she recited sardonically.
“Oh, do be serious!”
“Well, we can’t all be Black Bloody Charming can we!”
It wasn’t meant as a personal attack against her or Sirius. She knew Vivian was just lashing out. It was her job to weather the storm that was brewing within her friend. It seemed Vivian had finally run out of tears, the streaks of eyeliner and mascaras on her face a testament to how much she had poured out. All she had left was a croak of a voice Dollie could just barely make out.
“You know what this means, right?” Before Dollie had a chance to reply to the probably rhetorical question, Vivian howled mournfully, “I’m going to get fat! I won’t be able to fit through doors! And my feet will grow at least two sizes bigger to support the weight. That’s what happened to my mum, why do you think she stopped at me?”
Yes, because all that was completely catastrophic compared to a screaming, pooping baby. Dollie pretended to cough in order to hide the smile on her face. Typical Vivian. Nevertheless, she proceeded to adopt a sympathetic tone. “I’m so sorry, Viv.”
“I don’t know how this could have happened... I was always so careful, I never thought... Not in a million years, it just couldn’t happen to me.”
Was this somehow her fault? Should she have intervened sooner? She’d never admit it but the truth was, Dollie had always found Vivian’s salacious tales of debauchery highly entertaining. Perhaps it was because she herself didn’t have the bottle to do even one-eighth of the things Vivian nonchalantly boasted about. It may also have been that a small part of her believed that exaggeration played a bigger part in the stories than anything else.
That’s what they had been: stories. Twisted, scandalous fairytales that seemed too fantastic to be true yet Vivian had found an avid audience in Dollie and Lily. Dollie suddenly realized that it was only when Sirius and Remus began playing prominent roles in her life that she lost interest in Vivian’s conquests. She no longer needed to live vicariously through Vivian, she finally had her own real-life fairytale, albeit it an entirely chaste one with rather hazy heroes. Speaking of which...
“If I may ask... Who’s the father?”
“Oh yeah, that.” Biting her lip, Vivian became fidgety, averting her eyes. “I’ve, um, narrowed it down to a, err, select few.”
“What do you mean ‘a select few’?” said Dollie, suspicious. “How many could there possibly be?”
Vivian faked a cough to conceal her answer but it wasn’t enough.
“Three?!” Dollie exclaimed incredulously, wondering if maybe she’d heard wrong.
Vivian’s hand shot up but this time, Dollie was ready for it and managed to swat it away like a fly. It was obviously a delicate subject so she had to try be like Lily for once and be sensitive to other people’s feelings. Even if it meant playing counsellor to Vivian, drama queen extraordinaire.
“Fine, go on. I’m listening.”
“There’s Stebbins –”
“Rupert Stebbins? Vivian, that’s Lindsey Lovely’s boyfriend.”
“They were in the middle of a rough patch,” Vivian shrugged.
“They’ve been together since second year!”
“A tiny, insignificant detail. Don’t worry, she doesn’t know anything about it.”
“Oh yes, that really makes it all better.”
Vivian ignored the sarcasm and continued, “And Nikolai Kozlov –”
“That foreign exchange student from Durmstrang?” Dollie wrinkled her nose in bemusement. “But you can barely understand what he’s saying half the time.”
“What can I say? You know I find accents irresistible.”
“Fine,” Dollie relented. She didn’t want this to turn into an argument about personal tastes. Otherwise, she’d be there all day. “And last but not least? Please don’t tell me it’s Marciano, I don’t think I can stomach you carrying some spawn of Slytherin.”
“No, it never came to that between us. I’m not his type, apparently,” said Vivian rather brusquely. The unease from earlier suddenly returned, as though she didn’t want to go any further. “It’s, umm, well...”
“Spit it out, Costa.”
“Peter,” Vivian mumbled, barely audible.
Dollie’s eyebrows knitted together in thought. “You’ll have to be more specific. There are at least four Peters in Hogwarts, to the best of my knowledge.”
“Five, actually. You forget Pettigrew.”
“Right. So, which is it?”
“I just said it.”
There was a moment of silence before it sunk in. Dollie’s intense gaze was expertly evaded by Vivian, who was busy twirling her hair. She didn’t even notice Dollie’s slackening jaw, her eyes bulging with shock.
“Shut the front door...”
For perhaps the first time during their conversation, Vivian had the decency to show some shame. “It isn’t a big deal.”
“Peter, Vivian? Peter Pettigrew?” Somehow, it caused a greater shock to Dollie than the initial pregnancy bombshell. “I didn’t even know you two had something going on.”
“We didn’t. It was just the one time. Iolanthe Crouch had just laughed in his face after he tried to ask her to Hogsmeade and I felt bad for him. One thing led to another and... here we are.” Her hands clutched her stomach, the hopelessness of the situation more evident than ever. She settled her head into the crook of Dollie’s neck while Dollie had her arms around her.
“We’ll figure this out, Viv. The three of us together.”
Vivian shot up so abruptly that Dollie almost fell over in surprise.
“No! No, please, don’t tell Lily,” she pleaded.
Dollie stared uncomprehendingly at her friend. Not tell Lily? That somehow felt like betrayal, keeping their best friend in the dark about something so serious. Was Vivian afraid of something Lily might say or do? That didn’t make sense. If anything, Lily would almost certainly find a solution. Dollie was about to point this out but hesitated at Vivian’s glistening dark eyes. It was Vivian’s predicament to divulge. If she wanted to keep it a secret, she had every right to do so.
“Okay,” Dollie agreed, with some reluctance.
“Promise? Not another soul can know.”
As they hugged, one of the strewn paintings, which they’d completely forgotten about, huffed contemptuously. “Disgraceful! The ladies during my time had more propriety than these modern-day hussies,” said an 18th-century woman, wrinkling her painted nose in distaste.
“Come now, Gertrude, leave the poor girl be,” said a gallant gentleman in coattails and a top hat in the painting beside Dollie. “She has enough on her plate without your condemnation.” He tipped his hat at Vivian and subsequently blushed when she roguishly winked at him.
Gertrude muttered darkly under her breath as she twirled her parasol. Bored of the back-and-forth, Dollie stretched her limbs and stood up, wincing as spasms ran up her legs. She held out a hand to help Vivian up. And for added measure, Vivian dug an insolent heel into the irate woman’s face as the two girls walked away, arms linked.
“Do you think it’s noticeable?”
“Not unless one looks very closely.”
Only half-mollified, James patted his cheeks self-consciously. He halted suddenly in front of a suit of armour and inspected his reflection.
“Do you think Evans would like me better with facial hair?” he asked, tracing his jaw-line and stroking a phantom beard.
It took all of Remus’ restraint to keep from replying only if the facial hair came with an attitude adjustment. It was best to let James figure these things out on his own. Sirius smirked and elbowed James out of the way.
“Nah, you can’t pull it off. I on the other hand...” he trailed off as he admired his newly grown sideburns.
“Get stuffed, Black,” James shot back as they began a shoving war for face-time on the gleaming metal armour’s surface, never mind that there were a dozen others lined up against the wall. It was the principle of the thing, after all.
Remus sighed wearily as the two continued to fight. The animagus plan wasn’t going nearly as smoothly as James had guaranteed. As more people were announced missing every day, Dumbledore had increased castle patrolling and security, making it harder for the Marauders to sneak into empty classrooms and practise, even with James’ invisibility cloak. Thrice already they’d had close calls. It wasn’t just a matter of detention. They knew they’d get expelled for practicing such illegal magic.
Because of the constant dread of getting caught, their transformations were getting dangerously sloppy. The most recent blunder was uncontrollably fast-growing body fur. While James and Sirius were rather partial to the manliness the thick hair conveyed, they had to concede when Remus pointed out fifteen-year old boys don’t typically have faces full of fur. This forced them to reluctantly shave everything off though Sirius had insisted on keeping the sideburns. Even then, the stubble was slowly growing back. Also, Remus suspected the transformations were producing hormones which brought out animalistic tendencies in the three boys, explaining the unnecessary scuffle.
Behind him, Peter was getting visibly antsy. While James and Sirius were more prone to aggressive outbursts, Peter had become more... twitchy. There was an alert nervous energy about him, as though he were constantly anticipating something to happen. James had snapped at him more than once for the habit. The fur problem hadn’t been nearly as serious in his case. It was more like a faint peach fuzz, hardly noticeable but he had trimmed his long whiskers into wisps of hair above his upper-lip.
“Could we please go inside now? Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding is being served,” he said as he sniffed the air. Peter had also developed a more keen sense of smell.
“Let’s,” Remus agreed.
However, at the mention of food, James and Sirius immediately ceased arguing and instead began racing to the Gryffindor table. And because Sirius got there first, he got to pick where they sat which was of course beside Dollie. She was having fish and chips or more accurately, she was eating the fish while Vivian was grabbing fists full of chips off her plate. Lily was nowhere in sight.
Sirius greeted his girlfriend, lightly touching her back as he sat. An inexplicable lump of rage rose in Remus’ throat as he witnessed the exchange. To make matters worse, Peter opted to sit next to Vivian, just opposite from the pair, while James followed suit, forcing Remus to have a clear view of the romantically-involved pair.
“Oh dear, how many nifflers did you have to skin to make those buggery-grips?” asked Dollie as she tentatively prodded Sirius’ sideburns. Her sleeve fell away to reveal a flash of silver but before he could distinguish what it was, she concealed it once more.
Of course, Sirius took no offense and merely smiled indulgently. “Alright there, Vivian? You seem to be enjoying supper, you’re eating like you’ve got an extra stomach or something.”
“Hey, sorry about back there, mate. Don’t know what came over us,” James nudged Remus, who was grateful for the temporary distraction.
“Don’t worry about it.”
They both looked up to find the burly, hulking Ajax McMillan, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, hovering over them. It wasn’t just his ideal beater build that made him intimidating. His very presence radiated authority, which commanded respect while his girth struck fear into the most lion-hearted of the pack. Of course, this meant him and James butted heads more often than not, with James usually the one who eventually backed down. Even he wasn’t foolish enough to ignore the fact that Ajax could snap him in half like a twig.
“McMillan! Come for the pumpkin tarts?” said James brightly.
“Care to tell me why you’ve missed the last five practices?”
“Oh, well, you know how it is... Life gets in the way sometimes.”
James’ flippant answer did nothing but further aggravate the seventh year. Did he have a death wish or something? Remus wondered.
“Talent or no talent, you better get your act together and soon. I’m not nearly as indulgent as my predecessor and I’m not above cutting you from the team. Half of Gryffindor would fall over themselves to take your place.”
“And I have more skills in my pinky than all of them put together,” James shot back, blanching at the threat.
“Don’t push it, Potter. Saturday morning, eight o’clock.” Ajax stressed with just a hint of a snarl before stomping off.
Sirius and Peter, who had been watching the exchange, quickly turned their attentions back to the food on their plates and the girls at their sides. James, on the other hand, sent a hot-earwax hex to a third-year Ravenclaw passing their table. That was basically James Potter in a nutshell. For every negative occurrence in his life, he reacted by terrorizing any bystander who had the misfortune of catching his fancy. His inability to handle pressure was very worrisome although even Remus had to admit the sight of the Ravenclaw stuffing his ears with ice was rather humorous.
“So, where were we?” said James, feigning nonchalance.
As usual, Remus overlooked the illicit curse. “You’ve been missing Quidditch practice?”
“McMillan’s exaggerating. It’s more like two... or three... Come to think of it, it might have even been six...”
“Remus!” James mimicked Remus’ tone of alarm but then returned to normal. “It’s nothing, okay? McMillan’s been making that threat ever since I got my first detention of the year. He’d be a fool to replace me, he may as well hand Hufflepuff the Quidditch Cup on a silver platter.”
“Your certainty is very convincing, almost as much as your modesty,” said Remus dryly.
James laughed appreciatively. Suddenly, he fell silent. “Wait, that’s given me an idea.”
“No, what I said.”
“The Quidditch Cup on a silver platter?”
“McMillan’s a fool?”
“That goes without saying but no, before that.”
Remus massaged his temples wearily. “James, I really don’t want to play anymore. Perhaps you could have Peter or Sirius partake in this little guessing game of yours.”
“Nah, we’re the only Marauders left with any sense.” James scooped a spoonful of Yorkshire pudding but it ended up on his chin once he spotted Lily at the entrance of the Great Hall.
“Clearly,” Remus smirked as James wiped his face with a napkin.
“As I was saying,” James soldiered on with what was left of his dignity. “My idea. It’s rather brilliant, if I do say so myself. We need alibis, right? For when we’re practicing our ‘animantics’.” Remus winced at the horrid codename. He couldn’t even begin to understand James’ peculiar fondness for them. “Why not detention?”
“Potter, pass the tarts,” asked Vivian, her words garbled because her mouth was full. James ignored the request.
“We’ll all get simultaneous detentions and once we’ve completed them, we’ll meet at one of the detention spots and start the practice. If someone catches us, we’ll just say we’re from detention and met together as a security measure.”
“Right. So when you say ‘we’, is that supposed to include me? Because in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a prefect and prefects aren’t supposed to get detention.”
“Fine, you don’t have to be there, I suppose, since you’ve already got your ‘animantics’ down pat.”
“Can we please not call it ‘animantics’?” Remus groaned.
“Come up with something better then,” James challenged, to which Remus drew a blank and begrudgingly admitted defeat. “Thought as much,” he smirked.
Remus sipped his pumpkin juice, more to hide his scowl than anything else. “Supposing this works,” he said carefully. “How on earth are you three going to get detention at the same time?”
“Oi, Potter! Pass those bloody tarts!” There was no mistaking Vivian this time.
“Tarts for the tart,” Sue Milton stage-whispered to her gang, cackling mercilessly at her own joke while the other girls joined in.
Surprisingly, instead of countering with a barbed retort, Vivian slumped in her seat, her eyes downcast as she swirled her spoon in her pudding. James watched Vivian for a moment, glanced at Sue, then back to Remus, a very familiar expression spreading across his face.
“Remus, Remus, Remus... never underestimate what I’m capable of.”
Ignoring the warning, James whistled at Sirius and Peter. Once he had their attention, he mouthed ‘follow my lead’. In his hand was the plate of pumpkin tarts. To Remus’ horror, the three climbed onto the Gryffindor table regardless of the fact people were trying to have their supper. It took awhile but once everyone noticed them standing on the table, the entire Great Hall fell into expectant silence. Everyone knew that whatever the Marauders had planned, it was sure to be entertaining. They weren’t disappointed.
It took a split second before Hogwarts erupted into havoc. Food and drinks of all kinds suddenly took flight over everyone’s head and invariably into their faces. Vegetables and fruits made for good, hard knocks to the head but it was far more satisfying to use creamier alternatives and watch it splatter across faces.
James unceremoniously dumped the pumpkin tarts on Vivian’s dark head. She reacted by slapping Sue in the face with a salmon. Sirius and Peter poured chicken soup all over each other. Even the teachers at the High Table were rendered helpless by a torrent of Beef Wellington and brussel sprouts from overzealous students.
Basic rationale told him to duck under the table, away from all the madness. Just as he was about to do just that, he caught Dollie’s eye. There were beads of chicken soup on her cheek and parsnip in her hair but she looked otherwise unscathed. The corner of her mouth curved upwards and before he had time to register what she was doing, she took a bite of her apple pie, reached across to him and thrust it into his face. He wiped the crust and whip cream from his eyes, apple mush dripping from his nose.
“You’ll regret that.”
Looking around the table for any available weapon, he settled on a handful of cream custard from a bowl near his elbow and slung it. She managed to duck in time, sticking out her tongue defiantly.
Realizing that a fierce battle was going on right under his nose, Sirius bent down to join the fray. He scooped up mashed potatoes in each hand and ruffled them into Dollie’s blond bob, pouring gravy on her for added measure. She squealed in anger and shoved his face into a bowl of peas, not that it made much difference, he was already covered in so much food. As he watched them laughing together, that strange lump of rage returned, though this time it sat in the pit of his stomach. He wiped his custard-covered hand on his robe, abruptly losing the spirit of fun. That is, until James and Peter tried to stick sausages in his ears and up his nostrils.
The single word echoed off the walls, even reaching the enchanted ceiling, the floating candles giving a slight tremble. It was as though everyone and everything had been hit by the impediment curse, halting them in their place. This wasn’t the case. A wizard like Albus Dumbledore didn’t need to stoop to such crude measures. While his kindness and wisdom knew no bounds, there was no mistaking his undeniable authority when he chose to exert it. Miraculously, he had managed to remain immaculate amidst the commotion, something that was magnified tenfold when surrounded by his food-covered colleagues.
“I am all for young people and their need for amusement but I think that’s quite enough for now. You shall all return to your respective dormitories, freshen up and do what you like to pass the time until it is time to sleep.” He peered over his half-moon glassed, his blue eyes seemingly piercing through the throng of students towards the Gryffindor table. “Of course, for those responsible for this incident, I shall leave their fate in the capable hands of their head of house. The rest of you, have a pleasant night.”
After dismissing them, everyone shuffled silently, almost guilty out the hall. The moment had passed, their adrenaline was drained. Scholastic and personal worries re-entered their minds though they were grateful for the temporary distraction provided to them by those wonderful Marauders. Always good value, they thought amongst themselves.
The Marauders, or more accurately three-quarters of them, remained at the Gryffindor table, awaiting their inevitable punishment. Remus knew he should have stayed with them, in a show of support and solidarity if nothing else. But the truly livid expression on McGonagall’s face, framed by remains of vegetable and minced meat, convinced him to clear off as soon as possible. It looked bad enough that he was so close to the action but did nothing to prevent it. However, he did the gentlemanly thing and hung back for Vivian and Dollie, looking away as she said her good night to Sirius, nausea curdling in his throat.
“Do you think whatever beasts Professor Kettleburn has in store for us tomorrow will mistake us for food?”
Dollie sniffed her hair, wrinkling her nose. She’d had the foresight to brush off food that had attached to her robes while they were still in the Great Hall so that it wouldn’t litter their dormitory. Pity the thought hadn’t occurred to anyone else. She could only hope the castle elves got to the grimy floor before it attracted rats and cockroaches. Now, all she had to do was wash off any stubborn remnants and the smell of supper from her hair and skin.
“It’d be worth it. That was the bee’s knees!”
It was the happiest Dollie had seen Vivian in weeks. True to her word, she hadn’t told a soul about Vivian’s ‘condition’ although she tended to experience an odd panging in her gut whenever she looked or spoke to Lily. Once she’d finally unloaded her secret to someone, Vivian became less prone to overreactions than before. However, Dollie found the alternative just as disturbing. Vivian suddenly became more lethargic and detached, the vivacious fire that once burned bright in her now extinguished. Case in point: Sue’s ‘tart’ comment which, in another time, Vivian would have retaliated with either her tongue or wand.
Losing patience, Dollie pounded on the bathroom door as steam poured out and lingered at her feet. They had been waiting for the bathroom for more than two hours, all while still covered in the night’s supper. Abbey-Emma had gotten to it first, took fifteen minutes and was currently downstairs completing her essay for muggle studies. Perhaps to spite them, Sue was taking her own sweet time in the shower. She was even thoughtful enough to serenade them with her atrocious singing.
“Oi! Some of us would like to clean up in this century!” Dollie shouted.
“Sod off!” Sue shrieked back.
Dollie huffed and crossed her arms, purposely leaning noisily against the door. At this rate, she wouldn’t have time to complete her 9-inch Potions essay about antidotes. She was stuck three-and-a-half inches in and needed Lily’s help, whom they hadn’t seen since their last class together finished. Lily had even managed to miss the supper showdown, good on her.
“Hey, where’s Lily anyway?” asked Dollie, suddenly feeling a bit concerned.
Vivian shook her head. Just as Dollie was about to suggest they search for her after their shower, who should stroll through the door but the girl herself.
“Lily!” they exclaimed in unison.
“Nice to know I was missed,” Lily smiled then giggled when she had a better look at them. “I see you two had an interesting supper.”
“You could say that.” Dollie tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. A cauliflower fell out her hair instead.
“Do I even have to guess?” Lily raised an eyebrow as her eyes followed the vegetable.
“Nah, you know your soul mate well enough,” said Vivian.
“He’s not my –! Oh, never mind. I was in the Great Hall for awhile but left.”
“So, where did you disappear to?” asked a curious Dollie.
Lily shrugged, retrieving a book from her cabinet and settling into bed. “In the dungeon. With Sev,” she added as an afterthought.
Dollie and Vivian exchanged looks. “Oh?” Vivian said lightly, though the insinuation was clear as day. “Whatever for?”
“I don’t quite see what I have to explain myself for but since it isn’t a big deal... We were making Amorentia. Well, trying to at least.” Ignoring Dollie’s raised eyebrows and Vivian’s smirk, she continued, “It was Sev’s idea. He’d never tried it before and suggested we have a go at it, just for laughs. I don’t think we did it right, though. I couldn’t smell a thing though he insists he smelt old parchment, cauldron cleaning solution and lilies.” She laughed.
“Don’t you think that was rather... rash of you?” Dollie carefully chose her words. “I mean, it’d have been dangerous to be in such an isolated place, anything could have happened.”
“You mean being alone with him.” The tension Dollie wanted to avoid blanketed them like heavy mist. Lily had her eyes fixed on the page of her book though her knuckles were turning white from clenching. “Avery and Mulciber weren’t there or anywhere close, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” she said tetchily.
Fearing further backlash, Dollie refrained from continuing. She even made to kick Vivian’s shin when she wanted to further the discussion. Just then, the bathroom door opened which caused Dollie to topple and land flat on her back. As she winced from the pain, Sue hovered over her, a towel wrapped around her head and another around her body. From where she was lying, Dollie could almost make out a fish face-shaped bruise on Sue’s cheek.
“Oh, how clumsy of you, Dollie dear,” said Sue, a malicious emphasis on ‘dear’.
Since she was in too much pain to respond, she only gritted her teeth. She gingerly sat up, narrowly missing her fingers getting ‘accidently’ stepped on by Sue. But she nearly got run over as Vivian scrambled to get to the empty bathroom first. In one quick motion, Dollie tripped over Vivian. The race was thus fairer though Dollie tried not to think of how undignified it was that they were wrestling on a wet floor over a shower stall. The winner, however, was too close to call.
“Hang on!” Dollie shouted and they both froze. They were inside the bathroom now, wet in addition to the food. “Why are we behaving like – like common animals? We’re English Roses and dash it all, we should solve our disputes as the English do.”
They stood up, determination on their faces and hands held out.
“One, two, three!”
“Hah!” Vivian exclaimed triumphantly. “Dragon defeats Giant Squid.”
“No way! Giant Squid strangles Dragon, pulls him into the lake and drowns him.” Wiggling her fingers, Dollie’s hands clasped Vivian’s to illustrate her point.
“Ah, but before he can do any of that, Dragon flies out of reach and burns Giant Squid.” Vivian flaps her hands away from Dollie’s and make what was meant as fire noises.
“Then what defeats Dragon?”
“Nothing. That’s the beauty of it,” Vivian smiled wickedly.
She was forced to accept defeat. Not that she had much choice. Vivian was already stripping and Dollie didn’t wish to see any of her bits and pieces. As she was about to leave, something caught her attention and struck her as rather odd. Although Vivian had certainly gained weight, her love handles sagging over the waistband of her skirt, there wasn’t as much difference around her stomach as there should have been, considering she was supposed to be carrying a growing foetus inside. Plus, Dollie had never seen her have morning or even any other time of the day sickness.
“Not that,” Dollie scowled but closed the bathroom door before she continued. “When did you first find out about your, err, bludger in the pudger?”
Vivian strained to remember. “Must have been late October... or was it November... Around that time anyway.” It was currently February.
“Why aren’t you sure? Didn’t you take a test?”
“What test?” asked Vivian, puzzled.
“A pregnancy test,” Dollie whispered.
Vivian laughed heartily, to Dollie’s amazement. “Where am I supposed to get one of those?”
“Why, the hospital wing of course.”
“Oh, Dollie. Dear, sweet, naive Dollie.” Vivian smiled indulgently, like a grandmother admonishing a silly child. “Do you really think I’m going to walk up to Pomfrey and ask her for a pregnancy test? She’ll tell my parents. They’d skin me alive or worse, send me to Beauxbatons.” Vivian shuddered at the very thought.
She had a point. Her parents were very old-fashion, very conservative people. They had no clue what mischief their only child got into. If they did, they’d definitely have a stroke and keel over.
“But then, if you’ve never taken the test, then how do you know?”
“I just know.”
Dollie rolled her eyes at the idiocy of this explanation. “But it isn’t confirmed.”
“What exactly are you getting at?” The conversation was starting to bore and distress her.
“Viv, don’t you see? There might be a chance that you aren’t pregnant at all.”
A/N: Please don't forget to review this chapter. I need all the feedback I can get.