Chapter 2 : Morning Sickness & Charms Revelations
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The attack was over in seconds. I gasped, head still positioned directly above the toilet seat. Woozy, that’s how I’d describe how I was feeling. Nauseous. Ill. Positively horrid.
Outside a thin layer of snow dusted the grounds preparing for the fast-approaching Christmas. I wasn’t in the mood for winter games though – I hadn’t been feeling too great for several weeks. My frequent bathroom visits hardly went unnoticed but I told the concerned – let’s face it, mainly just Grace – the truth. I didn’t know what was wrong, just that I had become a mystical fountain of vomit.
Massaging my boobs – they were quite sore, probably because of gravity’s continuous pull on them as I hunched over the toilet every five seconds – I stood wearily, tightening my robe back around myself as I conjured up a glass of water, which I sipped slowly as I padded back into my dorm. The occupant of the bed closest me stirred as I walked past, shifting under the dusky blue duvet.
“E-Emilia?” she called out. Ruby pulled herself into a sitting position as she rubbed at her eyes. I was annoyed to see that her hair was almost perfectly straight despite the fact she’d just been asleep. Unlike mine, which preferred an au naturel fluffy frizz bomb look after such activities, she could have probably gone out like that and no one would have been able to tell the difference.
“What are you doing up at this time?” she questioned with a concerned expression. “Were you sick again?”
“Morning,” was the first thing I said with a weak smile. “Yeah, I was, sorry if I woke you.”
“It’s no problem, I hope you’re okay.”
One of the best things about Ruby Moon was that she was always so kind and friendly. We hadn’t really spoke all too much in the six years we’d known each other, but she was a damn sight nicer than the other girl included in our dorm – Imogen Saunders. Ruby was the shy type, quiet and rarely seen having fun. Boys weren’t interested in her though I couldn’t decipher why – she was far prettier than the majority of bimbos in this school, Imogen included.
“Have you been to see Madam Pomfrey?” she asked.
“Pomfrey? No, she keeps telling me I spend far too much time down in the Hospital Wing as it is.” Which was probably more than true. Quidditch could be a fun sport right up until the moment a Beater aimed a Bludger your way. “Besides, I’m only throwing up. No biggie.”
Ruby frowned. “You have been ill for the past week and a bit though, are you sure it’s not something more?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Like what?”
She shrugged in an ‘I-don’t-know-I’m-not-a-Healer’ kind of way. Perfectly understandable, I had to admit. “I’d get checked out though if I were you though. Might be a bug going round.”
“I’ll consider it,” I lied just so she’d go back to sleep. I was already feeling guilty about the fact I’d probably been keeping her up all night/morning hurling up my stomach again. Then again, both Grace and Imogen seemed to be sound asleep. Maybe she was just a light sleeper.
I tried to get back to sleep but I knew it was a pointless attempt. I was the type of person that once I was up, I was up. Instead, I decided that in true nerd fashion I’d go down to breakfast and get some studying in before lessons began. Grace was still conked out anyway.
By the time I’d reached the hall it was still early enough for not a lot of people to be around, but late enough for no one to look at me strangely for having breakfast at such a time. The past week I hadn’t really been eating that much because of the whole throwing up constantly thing. I was a Goldstein through and through though and the hunger pangs were starting to get to me. I managed to munch my way through half an English breakfast, which I deemed safe enough for me not to want to regurgitate up. Anymore and that feeling might have gone away.
Pulling a Transfiguration book from my bag, I started reading up on human transfiguration and how it could be achieved. Professor Chang had said it was a topic that would be covered after the Christmas holidays and I wanted to get a head start now.
As the morning wore on more students began to fill the Great Hall as they streamed in for breakfast. The noise got to a point where I found it nearly impossible to concentrate on the words I was reading and so I replaced the textbook to my bag.
It wasn’t long before Felix and Will were clamouring into the seats opposite me, animatedly discussing Quidditch or something.
“Hi,” I said when they didn’t offer their own form of greeting.
“Morning,” said Felix as the boys paused their debate in search of food.
Will kind of nodded at me in a ‘What’s up?’ way as he pulled a tray of bacon towards him.
“Is Grace up yet?” I directed at him because Felix had begun to pour milk into his cereal and he was a really horrible multitasker.
As I’d predicted, I got little response as Will began to stuff his face. It wasn’t often I ate across from these two but when I did I was always incredibly disgusted.
I sighed and decided to try eating a little more food. Toast would be a good idea. Of course, as soon as I had picked up a slice none other than Will Carstairs knocked it out of my hands as his and Felix’s conversation resumed.
“Puddlemere are well better than the fucking Tornados!” Will yelled at Felix, food spraying out of his mouth, arms flailing everywhere.
“Get your head out of your arse, the Tornados have won the cup three times in a row this year,” said Felix, puffing up his chest as if he were personally responsible for their success. He might have looked more magnificent if it wasn’t for the remains of Will’s breakfast imbedded in his dark hair. “Well on the way to a fourth year!”
“Yeah but Puddlemere have the best coach going,” Will’s smug look suggested that he thought his statement on the standard of Oliver Wood’s coaching might well win the argument. He was wrong. “They were down last season but only because Wheatcroft and Bale were injured.”
“Ugh, whatever,” said Felix. “Listen Em, you understand me. Tutshill are better than Puddlemere, aren’t they.”
I looked from one boy to the other. They were so startlingly different in appearance, yet so similar in personality. Felix was the dark one; messy hair and wide brown eyes hidden behind framed glasses. Will was lighter with his distant Veela heritage; pale blonde hair and very silvery blue eyes. Felix was taller by an inch or so but Will was wider in the shoulders. Both were good looking and both knew it far too well for my liking. They were used to getting what they wanted from life, but I wasn’t about to appease them.
“You both know I’m Cannons born and bred.” I said, sticking true to my heritage. They sucked dragon balls but Dad had been buying me their gear since before I was born and it kind of just stuck. I was loyal to my team.
“No, no, no,” Will shook his head. When he spoke his mouth was mostly empty and so I was not showered in his choice of breakfast, thankfully. “You weren’t listening, Em. We’re asking who’s better: Tutshill Tornados or Puddlemere United?”
“Okay for starters I really don’t give a shit,” I scowled. “They’re both good teams, but they both have their faults. Can’t you just agree to disagree?”
“Jeesh,” Will turned away from me as a particularly leggy blonde walked past in a skirt so short it should have been classified as a belt. Good job Isabelle wasn’t around to see that. “What’s got your knickers in a twist? You usually love a good debate!”
“Not today,” I grumbled, flinging my another uneaten slice of toast down and laying a pounding head against the table.
The rest of breakfast passed in a normal way. Felix and Will realised they’d left their Transfiguration homework up in the dorm and had left ten minutes ago; I fished my Transfiguration book back out and decided I could read through the noise. Grace had joined me during this transition, but she was last minute tutoring a nervous second year, who had a Charms test this morning and so I read my book in near silence.
Five minutes before the end of breakfast, Isabelle came rushing in, green and silver tie hung lopsided against her fitted blouse, hair a tangled mess.
“Morning,” she gasped out as she perched herself on the edge of the table. Not even the bench – the table. “I overslept, what do we have first?”
“Transfiguration,” I supplied.
Isabelle winced. “Good job I woke when I did then, Chang would have my head. Can you fix my hair?”
I nodded, bringing my wand out of my pocket and flourishing it at her head. Her hair – a honey blonde unlike her sister’s - neatened its self into a nice little side pony which was one of my personal favourites on her.
“C’mon anyway or else we’ll be late.” I said, shouldering my bag. Izzy shoved a slice of toast in her mouth before hopping up after me, Grace lagging behind as we set off towards our first class.
In the entrance hall we ran into the twins’s cousin, Scorpius Malfoy, and his friend Albus Potter. “Hey,” Scorpius greeted us with a grin, though it was meant more so for his cousin than I.
Albus nodded his head at Izzy and I in lieu of saying hello. I refused to make eye contact with him though, instead admiring how smooth and polished the castle floor was for such an old building, ignoring the steady blush that was creeping up my cheeks. Remarkable, really. Izzy pulled on ahead, talking about Christmas plans with Scorpius. I presumed Albus had followed them until I was scared half to death by someone grabbing my wrist and swinging me into a concealed corridor behind a tapestry.
“What are you doing?” I hissed through the gloom, his hand still covering my wrist.
“We need to talk,” Albus shrugged. “You keep avoiding me.”
As any sane person would, naturally.
“Oh I keep avoiding you?” Sarcasm dripped from my voice. “Really, you could have just asked me to talk to you instead of abducting me on my way to class. Honestly!” What type of person did that? God, he made me so frustrated and I’d barely ever spoke to him.
“And you’d have said yes would you?” He asked with a sceptical expression. “Don’t kid me. Ever since my party you’ve avoided me like the plague, Goldstein.”
“Oh is that so, Potter?” I snapped as I wrenched my wrist from his grip. Really, who could blame me? “Do you ever take your overly large head out of your arse long enough to think maybe I just don’t want to talk to you right now?”
“Well then when do you want to talk to me?” he raked a hand through his untidy hair, doing nothing to help tame it. His eyes shifted from side to side, trying not to make contact with mine.
“Never!” I shrieked, and with that I stormed out of the corridor.
Over dramatics was an expertise of mine.
I arrived at Transfiguration just as everyone else was getting into their seats but it didn’t stop Chang from giving out to me.
Grace, who had apparently made it in time, muttered a quiet ‘where were you?’ to me as Albus came into the room and Chang started laying into him instead.
“I’ll explain later,” I muttered back which appeased her for the meantime.
It was the middle of Charms when I realised. Flitwick had been talking the class through the charm that could be used to turn vinegar into wine – which was more than a little irresponsible, in my opinion – and had then asked us to practice it ourselves. Charms was one of my best subjects but no matter how many times I tried to turn it to wine, the sour vinegar remained.
Halfway through the class and even Izzy – who was only taking Charms to please her parents – had managed to perform the charm once. I was one of the very few still sat there struggling for the first time in my life. Professor Flitwick noticed and hurried over to mine and Grace’s desk.
“Come on Miss Goldstein, just point your wand at the flask. That’s right and –”
But his words were cut off as, with a loud bang, the flask exploded right in front of me. My attempts at magic were apparently futile. Everyone in the class turned to stare as smoke filled the room.
And that’s when I began to cry.
Not even delicate little tears; they were big raking sobs that shook my body.
“What’s wrong Emilia?” Felix called out from across the room, jumping from his chair.
“N-Nothing I-I just –”
“Maybe it would be best for you to take Miss Goldstein out for a moment, Miss Chesterfield,” squeaked Flitwick, but as Grace began to guide me up, Isabelle intercepted, pulling me up forcefully before marching me out of the classroom, down the corridor and into a deserted room. As the door slammed shut she turned to face me, arms folded tightly as she looked at me in worry.
“What’s wrong, Em?” she asked, leaning against a desk. Her blue eyes, the same shade as her sister’s, were wide with worry. Izzy usually shook off most of her own emotions, deeming them ‘impractical’, so in a way it was nice to see she really did care.
But that didn’t really matter because I still couldn’t explain what was wrong. For the past few weeks I’d been constantly throwing up, my head had been pounding, my emotions had been all over the place and I just didn’t understand why.
“Emilia, hon. Please just tell me what’s wrong. I can help!” pleaded Isabelle, but I wasn’t sure she could help me with my problem. Because it was dawning on me what exactly was wrong. I knew my symptoms – you’d have to be a fool not to. I knew what they were and what they meant.
“It’s just – It’s just my hormones. Time of the month, you know the drill.”
Well, I had to check if my assumptions were right before I went around blurting out the news, didn’t I?
Isabelle looked at me sceptically. She wasn’t stupid, of that much I was certain. After a few moments, when I’d stopped crying and had conjured a tissue to dry up my face, she nodded and seemed to accept the lie I was feeding her.
“Okay, if you’re positive.”
Oh Izzy, the irony.
A/N: So, second chappie is up! What do you think? The characters have been developed a little more here and -shock- Emilia thinks she's pregnant!
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