Chapter 4 : A Whole Bloody Bloodbath
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 24|
Change Background: Change Font color:
Chapter 4. A Whole Bloody Bloodbath
How the hell any pregnant woman anywhere managed to do anything constructive was beyond my comprehension.
Unless ordinary females didn't experience the hell I was personally undergoing, in which case I was seriously annoyed at God, or whomever the case may be, for creating me the way I was.
Maybe I'd been a really evil person in a past life. And I was now fully paying for it.
"I am so hornover..."
I lazily raised my eyes, and gave the approaching Deuce a scrutinizing glance. I didn't care enough to ask what the hell he was talking about, being too busy with my inner dramatic monologue.†
My life would definitely have won an Oscar. Best Dramatic Situation Award. Easy.
Clover on the other hand, who never passed up an opportunity to talk to the blue-eyed lad(this being the one major difference between him and his twin, whose eyes were brown), raised her brows as he sat down beside her. I noticed the goosebumps rising on her arm, but didn't comment on it.†
Aren't I the best friend ever?
"What?" she said, placing her half-eaten toast back on the plate.
Chase cleared his throat, preparing to explain. "Hornover: what one wakes up with the morning after a night of getting too horny without release."
"So I'm guessing the girl you hooked up with last night wasn't as easy as you thought?" Clover didn't particularly enjoy speaking about Deuce's other women, and said this with a disapproving scoff.†
"Her name's Amelia," I added, picking at my own toast, actually remembering the name of Deuce's last conquest. Pff. I give it three days - tops.
Deuce scowled at me grumpily before directing the blue pools at Clover. "Correct."
"Serves you right," Clover reprimanded with her nose slightly in the air.
"Hey, be nice to him." Everyone's attention was drawn to Brayder, falling silent the second his voice was raised. "Hornover is a very delicate state of mind. He'll snap if you don't tread lightly."
Bray wasn't one of those people who flashed their smile at every second of every day. So when he did show those pearly whites, it seemed as though he'd saved up all of his smiling-energy for just the right moment, and then unleashed it.
This was one of those moments.
Everyone was quiet, simply staring at him, grinning widely ourselves. Bray's smiles had that affect on people - you just couldn't refrain from joining in.
I think I vaguely registered Deuce breaking the silence, and then the others jumping into the cheerful conversation.
Me, I was studying my uncharacteristically happy boyfriend, trying to decide whether or not Chase was right about me having to tell him about me being... Pregnant.
That word still gave me the wobblies.
Well, it wasn't too shocking when I decided to not decide about telling Bray just yet. Procrastination and I walked hand in hand these days.
As a matter of fact I was the very epitome of procrastination, and I bet that if you looked it up in the dictionary, there'd be a picture of me.
It wasn't even funny.
But then again, what good had ever come of deciding too fast? I mean,†I shouldn't feel rushed into doing anything, because that could lead to stress, and stress would eventually transform into permanent wrinkles on my young skin. And we didn't want that, now did we? No. No, we didn't.
Way to defend and excuse your non-deciding approach to this, Adella.
Even though I tried to convince myself that I still had a long time to figure out what I wanted to do about the(shudder) pregnancy, I still couldn't shake off this nervous flutter that'd settled in my stomach.
Don't you dare tell me it's a baby-flutter. Don't. You.†Dare.
I could perfectly well feel the difference between the two, thank you very much. (I think...)
Damn! I was stressed. Like full-on stressed into my core, and I was never stressed. Not before the end of term exams, or even the OWLs. But now: Heart pounding, ears sweating, absolutely incapable of swallowing.
I needed to divert myself.
Where the hell was that man-whore, Deuce, when you needed him?! The boy was annoying, but did a good job of distracting me from dark thoughts with his sexist, but hilarious one-needs-to-roll-ones-eyes-while-grinning comments.
Craning my neck, I scanned the Slytherin common room for anyone remotely interesting. And I wasn't picky either - anyone would do, as long as they could speak.
Actually, taking my ever-rising stress level into account, even that deaf kid... (thinks hard) Stewart, would do.
"Looking for someone?"
A familiar voice made me jump up from the couch I'd been sitting on the edge of, and I threw my arms around none other than Chase.
"Woah, what a greeting!" he chuckled into my hair, and then gently hugged my body against his own.
We stood like that for a brief moment before breaking apart, but I still kept my hand on his arm, refusing to let him go. I needed another human being near me, and physical contact was essential, all for the sake of keeping my sanity intact.
Or at least not crumbling it any more than it already was.
Being as amazingly observant as he is, Chase grabbed my hand tightly and sat us both down on the couch, soothingly rubbing my palm with his thumb.
"You okay?" he asked me, already knowing the answer.†
"Not at all."
"Have you thought any more about what you're going to do?"
Chase exhaled, and I caught a whiff of spearmint on his breath as he did.
"You have to tell him."
I actually snorted at this. "Yeah, right."
I was enjoying Bray's blissful ignorance way too much to taint it with the discovery of me carrying his, shudder, child.
"Not until I have decided!" I reasoned, trying to convince myself just as much as him. Maybe even more.
"Don't you think he's got a right to know either way?"
"Maybe... But how in the world would I tell him? I can't just go: 'Hey, I think there's something missing in our relationship. What, do you ask? Well, my period.' No, I have to wait until I know what to do."
"What about talking to your mum? Maybe she could hel-"
"Oh, hell to the no!" I exclaimed, and I couldn't help but start panting as I rambled on. "My mother can never find out! You know why? Because she will murder me, and then she will tell my dad, and he, uncle Harry, James and uncle Ron will track down, slowly torture and eventually murder Bray, before moving onto killing what's left of my corpse. And autie Gin's Bat-Bogey hex will be aimed at any of those who dare try and save any one of us. In short, it'll all just be a whole bloody bloodbath."
"And these are the people who saved the world?" he chuckled, and I instantly calmed down. How did he do that?
"Yeah, well... My dad was a bad guy, so I'm suspecting he brought the badassness out in mum, at least. Auntie Gin's always been crazy, and uncle Ron as well. But maybe uncle Harry used to be nice, I dunno. Mum definitely was."
Chase thought about that for a moment, biting his lower lip, and then proceeded to shake his head. "Nah. I'm guessing she was always like that. You have to be pretty hardcore to tackle Voldemort. And to now both run the whole Wizarding community, and also be a full time mother at the same time? Well, the woman's got guts."
"I guess." I shrugged my shoulders indifferently, and then pulled my face into a pout, fiddling with the tips of my †hair. "So why couldn't I have inherited that instead of this wretched birdsnest?"
"I like your hair," he muttered sweetly, touching a wavy lock of it before twirling it around his index finger. "It's different."
"Good different?" I breathed, and decided that he was lying in order to make me feel better. But it worked, so I played along.
"Mhm." He was still twirling the strand of hair around his finger, fascinated by the texture, I guess.
"I saw them holding hands!" a voice behind us exclaimed in horror, giving Chase and I a start. Chase quickly let go of my hair and hand as we saw Bray and Deuce walking casually in with a very excited Clover leading the way. Or marching the way, is more like it.
"W-Who?" Chase stuttered, shifting on the leather couch nervously as they approached us.
"Michelle and Liannah," Clover explained in a hurry. "They were just walking past me, hand in hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world!"
"And?" I asked Clover, but my attention was drawn to Brayder who was now smirking, clearly entertained by the Clover-drama.
"And?!" She shrieked before sitting down on her knees in front of the couch, gesturing wildly with her arms. "Let me specify: They're girls! Two girls."
"I don't see what the interesting part of this story is," I sighed, and was amused by how my indifference obviously annoyed Clover.
"I do," Deuce cut in, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "It's hot. Lesbians are hot."
"What? Are you serious?" Clover turned to Brayder for confirmation. "Is he serious?"
"Why wouldn't he be?" Bray shrugged his shoulders, a playful smirk lurking in the corner of his mouth. "The image of two hot girls naked, groping each other, touching, kissing -"
"Okay, I get it," Clover hissed and gave him a scowl. "You like girl-on-girl action."
"Who doesn't?" Chase added, and this earned him a high five from his brother.
"You too?! Am I the only one who's weirded out by this?"
Everyone took a second to glance at each other.
"Yeah, basically," I concluded, and the lads nodded in agreement.
"Oh," she muttered before putting her arms down to her side. "Well, alright, then."
There's a lot of words people would have used to describe me, but patiend sure as hell wasn't one of them.
Deuce and I were waiting outside Professor Mayhorn's classroom, waiting for him to arrive and open the doors. He had the annoying habit of locking it up. Yeah, as if students really were thatinterested in sneaking into his classroom and steal those parchments of Arithmacy-scribbles he had hidden in the drawer in his desk.
Actually... I was slightly curious about his theories on singular reduction-graphs.
Maybe it was clever of him to lock it up after all. So the geeks, like myself, refrained from nosing through his notes.
Deuce had surprised me when he said he'd be attending Arithmacy classes with me this year, and I had to admit that the first thought that entered my mind was, 'Alright, who is he stalking now?', but he actually seemed interested.
Maybe there was hope for mankind yet.
He was leaning against the stone wall with a nonchalant look on his well-proportioned face.
But when the black haired girl with insanely green eyes walked past him and went to say something to a blonde girl with huge earrings, his eyes widened.
"Deuce, I don't think-"
But he was already off.
"Hey, sexy," he muttered seductively in her ear, and the girl with the earrings gaped. I was actually afraid that she might drool. She looked like the type who would. "How are you?"
The girl his attention was directed at turned to give him a lazy stare, arching a dark eyebrow at him, but not answering his question.
"You wanna go out?"
Still no answer, but I distinctly heard her friend whimpering.
"You know, do a little dance," he continued, smoldering her with his blue pools of delight, smiling down at the uninterested girl. Trying to be funny and charming. "Make a little love -"
"Basically get down tonight?"
"Exactly!" Deuce exclaimed happily, smelling his victory.
The girl with the earrings' eyes were darting confused from Deuce to her friend, clearly dumbfounded at the situation that was unfolding before her.
"Sorry, no." The black haired girl was smirking devilishly up at the confunded heart throb, and I swear I could hear her friend gasp in terror. "I have huge plans involving anything other than being with you," she said before turning back to look at the earring-girl. "I'll see you at dinner, Lauren."
And with a last glare at Deuce, she flipped her raven hair and walked calmly away from the scene.
Deuce and the seemingly appalled earring-friend were left behind, both with their mouthes open and brows shot up unnaturally high.
But then she seemed to suddenly realise who she was standing next to, and quickly turned her neck(I think I heard it crack, actually), and stared wide eyed at the gorgeous Quidditch captain beside her. She then proceeded to let out some unbelievably uncomfortable giggling noises, along with some equally awkward snorts.
Deuce looked at her stupidly before walking back over to me. I found myself having to put my fist in my mouth to refrain from laughing.
Deuce sat down on the floor next to me, where I sat cross legged, sighing as he leaned the back of his head against the wall.
"Still no luck with that one, huh?" I managed to ask without bursting out in laughter.
"No. And I don't see why," he growled. "I mean, am I not a charming, sexy, desirable person?"†
I studied him for a few seconds, scrunching up my face in thought before leaning in closer and squinting at him. It was all an act, of course, the lad was gorgeous.
"Why are you so hung up on her?" I was picking on my nail, feeling how my patience was now non-excistent because I wasn't being entertained by Deuce striking out.†"You are aware that she isn't your type at all?"
"Hey, girl is my type," he corrected me.
"She's a nerd."
"That means she's smart."
"Which means she enjoys school."
"Geeks can be hot too." He smiled charmingly at me. "Obviously, I mean, look at yourself."
"Thanks, I guess," I chuckled, rolling my eyes.
"By the way, do you know her?"
I turned to raise my brow sarcastically at him.
"Just because we're both smart, doesn't mean we automatically know each other, Deuce. It's not a club."
Deuce raised his own brow at me, smiling, waiting for a response he knew would come.
"Jade Williams, Ravenclaw, sixth year," I sighed. "But aren't you already dating that Amelia-girl?"
"... How's that going?"
"Let's just say that I'm circling the airport, but I've already got permission to land," he wiggled his brow and winked suggestively. "If you know what I mean."
"Do you think I'm someone else?" I asked, staring blankly at him. "Like, I don't know, a male?"
"A whale?" he repeated with a mischievous gleam in his bright eyes. He obviously found himself humorous. "I wouldn't say whale, but I do think you've packed on a few pounds."
"Hey!" I exclaimed, to which he giggled. Yes, Deuce Zabini is a giggler.
We were sitting in silence for a moment, and we all know that quiet wasn't really the best for me in my situation, and on cue my head was filled with all of my impending troubles.
I put my throbbing head in my hands and sighed heavily.
"I-I was only joking," Deuce apologized nervously.
"I know," I groaned, but quickly raised my head in order to shoot him a quick smile. It didn't reassure him the way I thought it would.
Hm, I needed to practice fake-smiling.
"Then what's eating you?"†
I felt him stare at me, but I had turned my gaze to the end of the corridor, willing Professor Mayhorn to appear out from around the corner.
"Nothing," I answered quickly, focused on bringing the Professor over here as fast as possible. "Why do you ask?"
"I can sense when a woman is vulnerable and depressed. It's one of my many gifts. Normally, that's the sign for me to pounce."
"Even though that's, you know, charming," I said, casting him a sardonic glare, "I'm really fine."
I swear to Merlin himself that I had magic powers, I mean, more than I already had seeing as I was a witch, because just then I saw Professor Mayhorn strut down the hallway toward us. He seriously did strut, and I chuckled at this.
Why did I chuckle? Well, Mayhorn was over eighty years old, was proudly sporting pants that were new in the early 1970s, and he obviously attempted to make the little hair he had on his head look finely combed. But the three hairs on the top freed themselves from the hairgel the second he left his office.
Deuce got up and reached out his hand so I could take it, and yanked me up so I lost my balance for a short second.
Okay, note to self: No sudden movements unless you want to throw up your lunch in public.
I swallowed several times, trying to calm down the familiar urge. It actually worked!
Did I just...?
"Better late than never, eh?" Professor Mayhorn chuckled with his I-smoked-too-much-stuff-back-in-the-day voice. And the class slowly reacted by picking up their bags from where they'd been dropped onto the floor as they'd waited. After Mayhorn unlocked the door with a massive key(that surprisingly enough looked older than its owner) everyone dragged their feet into the room and dropped down on the nearests seats.
But when Professor Mayhorn began speaking and picked up a piece of chalk to start writing on the old-fashioned black board, I wasn't mentally present. Even Deuce had taken out his books, and was actually concentrating on what the Professor was saying, but me? I was in deep thought, so deep in fact that I wouldn't be able to resurface until the dull sound of the massive bell signalled that class was over.
How the bloody hell had I managed to dwell my way through a whole class, I mean, it was two hours! Two straight hours of thinking. Pondering. Torturing myself, and crying invisible rivers.
I had refered to the thing as a... A baby.
Not a thing - an actual baby.
This had frightened me.
But it opened my eyes.
I had then spent the whole Arithmacy class on figuring out what it meant. And I think I'd learned what I most wanted, because I wasn't able to think about the other options without feeling the need to be sick. Don't get me wrong, I constantly felt sick, but it wasn't the same.
And as it dawned on me that I now was big, zero-gravity moonsteps closer to a final decision, I broke into a run and ignored Deuce calling after me.
I had to tell someone, and I knew exactly who.
I checked my watch.
If I hurried, I would maybe have time to both tell him and sob uncontrollably for a few minutes on his shoulder. With that in mind, I sprinted down the packed hallway, down three moving staircases and stopped abruptly when I saw him.
Wheezing and panting, I jogged the last few feet before discreetly(yeah, right) taking his hand and dragging him away into a secluded corner.
"Del?" His brows were furrowed in worry. "Is something wrong?"
If it hadn't been for my lungs' lack of oxygen, I would've answered, but instead I put my hands on my knees and breathed deeply for several seconds.†
People were eyeing us suspiciously as they walked past us to get into Headmaster McGonagall's classroom. And even though she was in charge of the whole school now(replacing the late Albus Dumbledore, the bloke Al was named after), she still arrived painfully early to each class, and would most likely come waltzing around the corner in about nine minutes and thirteen seconds.
"Uhm, we need to get inside before McGon-"
"Chase, I think I want to keep it."
So do you have any opinions yet? What do you think about the different characters - any favourites, anyone you hate? And why? :)
Any favourite parts in this chapter? Pease tell ^
Thank you so much for reading, my lovelies :)
Previous Chapter Next Chapter