Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Back Next

Expecting Otherwise by majamariamaja
Chapter 21 : All The Lies
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 16

Background:   Font color:  

Ci by HalloweenGal @ TDA.

Chapter 21. All The Lies

"So," Madam Pomfrey adjusted her glasses while looking up from her chart, "you're honing in on your ninth month now, Miss Adella. How are you feeling?"

I was sitting on one of the many beds in the Hospital wing, my legs dangling in the air. I was suddenly aware of how short I was. Short and fat. What a nice combo.

"Warm," I told her. The pearls of sweat on my forehead was poof of this. "And stiff all over. And I feel this weird pressure in the lower part of my stomach."

"That is all normal, dear," Pomfrey assured me. "But if you feel any strange discomforts, or detect any worrisome symptoms, do not hesitate to come to me. My door will always be open."

I nodded. I had been here for at least forty-five minutes, and I was anxious to get out of there. Even though Madam Pomfrey was an amazing healer, and a wonderful woman, this place freaked me out. It just reminded me of how I was soon to come in here and...give birth. I whimpered internally at this.

"I-I will," I said and gave the matron a quick smile. "Thank you."

"Very well," she then said and assisted me to my feet. "Remember to walk as much as possible, it helps with the stiffness. And sucking on ice cubes, I have heard, helps keeping you cool. Also, keep away from spicy foods." And with this she smiled at me and bade me goodbye.

Finally I was out of there. The Hospital smell still lingering in my nose, I followed Madam Pomfrey's advice and put my feet to good use.

They were throbbing by the time I reached the Great Hall, and when I didn't find my usual crew at our usual place, I searched for another familiar face. I found one and walked another few feet before I sat down beside him. I let out a loud groan of pleasure as my bum met the bench.

"And hello to you too," Tristan said dryly while giving me a sarcastic smile.

"Food now, talk later," was my reply, and Tristan wisely kept his mouth shut while I threw some chicken legs and potato salad into my own.

After gobbling down about a gallon of pumpkin juice, I turned to Tristan. He was by now used to my way of eating, and was quite busy reading a comic book while gnawing on an ear of corn.

"Conversing is now permitted," I informed with an attempt at a flight attendant's nasal tone(I had laughed throughout their entire safety-thing the last time Mum took us to visit Grandma and Grandpa in Australia).

Tristan looked up. "How was your baby-appointment?" he asked, showing genuine interest. How easy it seemed for him to be nice. I wished all blokes were like that... He should have a course.

"It was fine."

"You're about nine months now, correct?"

I whimpered again.


"So I should be constantly vigilant in the event of your suddenly going into pop-mode," he said to himself.

I arched a brow. "Pop-mode?"

"Sounds less terrifying than labour, does it not?"

I thought about that.

"True," I consented.

Tristan grinned at me and then his eye caught something and poked my arm.

"Your weird blond friend just sat down at your table," he told me. I looked over at the Slytherin table and saw Clo sitting there. She was followed by Chase, and the two of them sat together while engaged in what seemed like a heated conversation.

I completely froze up.

"I won't be offended if you go over there," Tristan added. I looked at him. How anyone could be so selfless and sweet was beyond me.

"I'd rather be here, with you," I said truthfully. Tristan beamed at this. Light seemed to ooze from his eyes and it warmed my chest in a very tingling way. I liked it. It was pleasant.

"Well, in that case," Tristan chirped as he offered me a plate full of a variety of my favoruite cupcakes, "can I interest you in some sugary deliciousness?"

I returned his broad smile with interest, and picked out two bright pink cupcakes. I bit into one of them, and was almost blown away by the tasty sensations in my mouth. I was so focused on how my tastebuds screamed for more, and only barely listened to Tristan as he started speaking.

"Do you sometimes think about how the person you're going to end up with is actually on the earth right now?"

I shrugged and licked some frosting off of my fingers while eyeing the other cupcake. It knew it was next.

"It's an uplifting thought, isn't it?" Tristan asked, and didn't seem to notice that I didn't answer. My mouth was full, and I couldn't have said anything even if I wanted to.

"Maybe they're passing you on the street, sitting in the same classroom, standing in front of you in a line..." He paused and drew a breath. "Or sitting across from you in the Great Hall eating with you."

Tristan looked at me intently, but my own gaze had been stolen from my conciousness and was dragged away to the other side of the room. Like a magnet, my eyes had been pulled towards the brown-haired, dark-eyed, dimple-cheeked boy sitting beside Clover.

"Maybe," I whispered to myself in a daze, not realising that I'd in fact said it out loud.

"Too forward?" Tristan asked, and I was immediately ripped out of my stupefied state.

My eyes shifted from side to side, and I coughed awkwardly before I let myself look up into Tristan's trusting face.

"Maybe," I replied, letting my gaze fall to the table and cleared my throat again.

"Sorry," Tristan said in such a sad puppy-dog way that I just had to look up again. His blue eyes were focusing on his goblet of pumpkin juice. Oh, my god. I had broken Tristan!

"I-It's okay," I said quickly. "I'm just not... You know, ehm, ready to think about such things just yet."

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

"But, maybe..." I started, my voice sounding strained. "Maybe if you were patient, then...maybe. You know?"

And that did it. Tristan virtually glowed, and looked more than ever like a puppy - this time with its metaphorical tail wagging and tongue lolling out playfully.

Did I ever mention that I'm a cat person? Yeah. Never really understood people's general obsession with dogs. I mean, I like puppies like every other human - I'm not Voldemort - but cats are so much cuter and easier. They don't drool, don't bark, don't require long walks out in the rain and don't attack you when you're walking in the door.

But I digress.

Apparently my eyes had wandered over to the Slytherin table again, but this time were settled on the blonde bitch eating pudding.

"Ehm, Della? You okay?" Tristan waved his hand in front of my face, and I took a deep breath. "Let me rephrase that question real quick. I mean, what's wrong?"

This made me roll my eyes. Tristan was one of those people who could read me like an open book - sometimes. Or all times, I wouldn't know. But in the name of Buckbeak the hippogriff, I really hoped he couldn't.

Digressing again.

"Would you buy it if I said I didn't do anything wrong, and it was all the other person's fault?"

Without missing a beat Tristan simply said: "No."

"Then I won't tell you."

"Had a fight with someone?" I stared down at my knife with vigour. "A friend?" My knuckles whitened around the silvery cutlery. "The blonde one?" I growled and he nodded to himself. "The blond one."

He spent some time just observing me. I probably seemed more like a crazy person than ever before, having a stare-down with my knife.

"You overreacted to something, didn't you?"

I groaned and thrust away the knife. It had won, and I wasn't happy about it.

"No," I replied sourly.

"And you feel bad about it," he guessed. And he was correct.

Annoyingly enough, the lad noticed the way I bit my lip and wrote it down on his mental note pad as a twinge of guilt. That prat.

"Why don't you just admit you overreacted?"

I snorted loudly at his question. "No, thank you."

"But you already know you should, at least in some way, apologize for whatever you did and/or said."



Tristan squinted his eyes at me, and I shifted my seat.

"Just go and get it over with," he advised, at which I let out a long groan.

"But I don't wanna!" I complained like a child, sticking out my lower lip in a pout. I crossed my arms defiantly and scrunched my brows. "Besides, I don't feel like getting up. I'm a pregnant woman and I need to sit."

"You know that shit doesn't work on me, right?" Tristan said, and I rolled my eyes. He then proceeded to get up, and offered me his hand. After he had spent a few moments trying to pull me off the bench, he succeeded. But I'm proud to add that he was a bit sweaty when I left him at the Hufflepuff table.

So that's how I, Adella Marie Malfoy-Granger, ended up walking up to my angry best friend with my tail between my legs.

When I stood right in front of her I had my suspicions confirmed; she was completely ignoring me.

"Oh!" Chase had just noticed me, and smiled. His dimples made this day lose some of its suckiness. "Hi, Del." He looked at Clo, saw how she was resolutely avoiding my rather large figure(which took some serious determination considering I was about to get my own gravitational pull), and then poked her shoulder.

"Clo, stop being a child," Chase said, and poked her again.

I sighed, and wrung my hands in an attempt at controlling my anger.

"I'm sorry," I pressed out. I was surprised it was even audible, I'd hissed it between clenched teeth.

Clo stuck her nose in the air as she turned to Chase.

"Zabini," she started, and Chase tiredly exhaled. "Tell Adella I'm not interested in her fake apologies."

"Clo, I won't-"

"Oh, and tell her that I'm not talking to her."

"I kinda got that, shockingly enough," I mumbled.

"Okay, this is just silly," Chase reasoned. "Clover, just get off your high hippogriff and accept Del's apology. It was a rusty apology, I'll admit, but we all know how bad that girl is at admitting she's wrong."

I huffed at this. He was right, of course, but it still annoyed me that he said it.

Having my own faults said out loud like it was common knowledge wasn't really pleasant.

"Fine," Clo groaned after a moment. She and I looked at each other, both still glowering.

"Good!" Chase said in his Pre-School teacher tone and clapped his hands together. "Now, shake hands like two nice, little girls."

"Oh, shut it," Clo told him, and rolled her eyes. She then gave me a quick smile - a smile which I returned.

And thus easily things were all back to normal.

Chase returned from the Dark side, Deuce started getting a bit too flirty with the ladies again, Clo got back to drooling over Deuce's every move, Kat remained cynical, Victoria Darren was as horrible as ever, and I still walked around with the cast of Modern Family in my stomach.

At least it felt like it... The babies were doing jumping jacks, and training for the Olympics in my uterus, and I was getting more tired of it by each passing day.

"Why?!" I asked dramatically as I slumped myself down next to Chase and Deuce at dinner a week later. "Why won't they come out?!"

"Didn't you just see Madam Pomfrey?" Chase asked me.

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, did you ask her?"

"Of course I did," I replied in a snappy tone. "She said I'd just have to wait it out. That they'd come out when they were ready."


"But how about me?! Doesn't anyone care about when I'm ready?!"


"So what she said was just a load of shit. That quack doesn't know anything. Can't even answer a simple fucking question. And that's right; I said fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fucking, fuck!"

"So you decided to come to us for expert advice. Two lads, without a uterus, with no medical education. I can see why you chose this."

Chase looked wide-eyed over at his brother, who had just completely shut me up. I actually smiled. Chase seemed mildly proud of his twin as they both bit into each of their burgers.

"This feels so good..." Chase moaned with his mouth full of half-chewed cow. "I'm worried I might make this burger pregnant."

"Those would've been some delicious babies," Deuce said back, his mouth also filled with food. I grimaced.

"Uh-oh," said Chase out of thin air. "Pretty girl approaching our immediate proximity. Alert! Alert!"

I turned around and caught sight of an abnormally tan girl with spiky hair walking over to us.

"So?" I questioned in a bored voice.

"We need to stop Deuce from going off with her," Chase explained, something his brother didn't appreciate. Deuce glared evilly.

"Still not adjusted to the role of committed boyfriend, I see."

"It's just harmless flirting," Deuce told me while he rolled his eyes.

Just then, the tan girl made her appearance.

"Hey, Deuce."

"Margie, hi." He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Long time, no see."

"It's Angela, actually," Angela corrected, and looked at Deuce's dirty sleeve with disgust. "Anyways...could we talk for a quick sec?"

"Yeah, you just sit on my lap and we'll talk about the first thing that comes up."

"Deuce," Chase warned.

"I think we should do it in private," insisted the girl named Angela.

"Ah." Deuce smiled knowingly, and wiggled his eyebrows. "Do it in private, you say?" Chase started poking Deuce repeatedly in the rips, but Deuce swiftly ignored him. "Do we have time to run down to my dorm, or are we in a rush? There's a shack right out-"

"You gave me chlamydia."

In the silence that followed, the only things I gathered was that Angela walked off(after not getting a response from Deuce) and that I had to pee - again.

"Well," Chase said, crushing the silence to bits. (Note: a silence that had only erupted within our small group, and not the entire Great Hall.)

"Well," I copied. I had absolutely nothing better to say.

"So, I guess Del's not the only one who needs Madam Pomfrey's Healer abilities anymore," Chase joked, and I swallowed a giggle.

Deuce just blinked.

"I don't understand..." he muttered to himself.

"What? You need to hear it in Swahili?"

Deuce didn't even give his brother his usual murderous glare. Something was definitely wrong.

"What don't you understand?" I asked, trying to get through to my heavily-breathing friend.

"I make it a point to always wear a raincoat," Deuce answered, looking me directly in the eyes. "Always!"

"Not always, I'm sure," I said back, lifting my brow.

"Al-ways," Deuce enunciated.

"Yeah, right, whatever."

"How the hell would you know, anyway?" Deuce demanded loudly, glowering at me. "What makes you so sure I'm not a protection kind of bloke?"

I cleared my throat uncomfortably. Why had I gotten myself in this situation? I always handled them so badly!

"... Not important."

"What?" Deuce curled his hands into fists. "You've got an example? Pray, tell. I'm dying to know."

"It's not my business to say," I told him truthfully.

"Well, you've stuck your nose into my business pretty far already, so what's another few inches, eh?"

"It's not your business I'm talking about, you prat," I retorted, feeling my cheeks redden with growing anger.

"Then whose business is it, Pregzilla?"

"I can't say!"

"Wose business is it?!"

"Come on," Chase cut in, "just tell him and get it over wi-"

"Katja Anderson!" I cried. "Happy now?"

There was silence again. This time Deuce looked even more confused.

"Who?" he asked.

I snorted in a highly unattractive manner.

"Don't pretend you don't know her. You've banged her repeatedly this year, and another few times before that." He didn't seem to catch on. I decided to elaborabpte. "Slytherin, sleeps at my dorm, always wears a ponytail, we used to call her Dragonbreath, she-"

"The brunette virgin who didn't want to give it up so I ditched her?" Deuce interrupted, his brows pulled down in thought. "That one?"

"What? She's not a virgin. She said you guys-"

"Bumped uglies?" Deuce finished eloquently. "No. Never. Barely got under her shirt, as a matter of fact."

"What about when you briefly dated in fifth year?"

"Dated? I didn't even know about her until this year!"

"Are you saying you two never had sex?" I asked point blank, the wheels in my head churning.


"Why would I believe you?" I squinted my cynical eyes at the lad, and he let out a short breath.

"Adella, I may be a lot of things, but I'm not much of a liar. Have I ever lied about not scoring? That just doesn't make sense."

"I know we make fun of him a lot, but sometimes he's got a good point. Like now," Chase added. "He's right, Del - why would he lie?"

"But... If you're not lying...then that means..." There was a pause, and then suddenly it dawned on me. "Oh, god. She lied to me. From the very first moment, she lied. She never had sex with you, she never got pregnant with your baby, she never had an abortion - it was all made up."

But why?

"What!" Deuce exclaimed. "She told you I made her pregnant?" I nodded jerkily. "And that she had an abortion?" Another nod. "She really said all of this?" More nodding. "That fucking liar!" he literally screamed, and then proceeded to roar ferociously: "Where is she?!"


So what's going on with Kat? Do you think she's been lying? Do you believe Deuce?

Things are heating up, I can tell you that much! (I'm such a tease!)

Sorry if this is a weird chapter, I finished writing it at six a.m. after pulling an all-nighter. So please have mercy.

Btw, having my newfound(and beyong amazing) boyfriend sharing the same name as one of Adella's "suitors" will not cloud my decision in any way. I made up my mind about who she'll choose(if any of them - yes, this is a possibility) a long time ago, and has nothing to do with the recent developments in my love life. Promise :)

Any parts in particular that you enjoyed? Please tell me ^^

As always, thank you for reading :)


Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Favorite |Reading List |Currently Reading

Back Next

Other Similar Stories

No similar stories found!