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Delicate by padfoot4ever
Chapter 15 : My Father's Daughter
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 198


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Chapter 15 - My Father's Daughter





It seems like every day is the same – the early morning vomit, breakfast, mid-morning vomit, class, late morning vomit, class, lunch, class, dinner, possible vomit (depending on what was for dinner), homework, study, early evening cry, homework, mid-evening cry, relax in Common Room, bed, midnight cry and sleep. Well, that’s the basic schedule. It changes now and again. 


A week after the Slytherin – Gryffindor match, the Slytherins are still singing their ridiculous victory chants. Dom, who is even more impatient than I am, put two sixth years Parkinson and Briggs in the Hospital Wing on Wednesday for singing “Weasley is our King” (except they changed it to ‘Weasley is a Minger’…they’re about as smart as a sack of Gobstones). So Dom now has detention, which she still maintains is worth it. 


Today is Saturday and while Dom is in the Hospital Wing cleaning bedpans (poor girl), Lily and Lorcan have gone for a stroll around the lake and Al and Jenny have become study partners. It’s day of the sickening couples, methinks. I, however, am chilling out in the Common Room with my feet up on the coffee table reading a book called “Predicting the Sex” – it’s a kind of Divination book that helps you predict what sex your baby’s going to be, among other stuff. It’s a load of crap really. 


Step One: Tea Leaves 


I look into my cup – my tea leaves appear to be making the shape of a brown blob-like object. That means...the baby will have brown eyes. Wow, genius – I couldn’t have figured that one out on my own considering both of the kid’s parents have brown eyes.

Step Two: Palm Reading 


Apparently I have to count the amount of lines on my index finger and on my thumb on my right hand and then divide that by the number of fingers I have (excluding thumbs) on my left hand. Who the hell comes up with this stuff? Okay, I got five.  

0-4 – The child will inherit its paternal grandmother’s hair
5-9 – The child will inherit its father’s hair
10-14 – The child will inherit its maternal grandfather’s hair
15-19 – The child will inherit its mother’s hair
 


Right, so according to this book, I have a brown-eyed, blonde haired child. 
 

Step Three: Touch and Temper 


Place your hands on the base of the bump and sing this song. 


And then there’s a very long Latin song that goes on for three – no, four – pages. Well bugger this for a game of soldiers. I place my hands at the base of my ever-growing bump and start to sing (well, more like try to decipher what the hell the words are and how to pronounce them). 


“A-tru dom-in-ay…ma-in-ci-poh,” I start and trail off. 


And then I feel a really weird feeling. I mean, really weird. It’s like…it’s almost as if the baby is – 


Oh dear Merlin, my baby is kicking! And there’s nobody else in the Common Room to feel this! 


I run from the Gryffindor tower, clutching my stomach, not wanting to miss a single kick. I decide to rush to the Hospital Wing so Dom can feel this. The bloody corridors are empty too because everyone is either outside or in their common rooms. When I reach the fourth floor, I spot someone – finally. 


“Malfoy!” I call, “Malfoy quick!” 


Malfoy, who is with a group of friends, turns around and spots me, clutching my stomach on the staircase. His face changes from calm to frantic in a split-second. He runs over to me. 


“What’s wrong?” he asks, glaring at my stomach, which I’m still clutching, “Is it the baby? Holy shit, are you having it now?” 


I roll my eyes, grab his hand and place it on my stomach. 


“Can you feel it?” I ask excitedly. 


He shrugs and looks at me as if I’m a crazy person. 


“Erm, Weasley, what am I supposed to be – whoa! Was that…was…did it just kick?” 


Malfoy looks like a little kid at Christmas. He has a stupid lopsided grin plastered onto his face as he looks at my tummy as if it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen in his whole life. He starts bouncing up and down excitedly, looking around for someone to show this to, just like I was a few minutes ago. 


“It stopped,” he says, and his face falls. 


“It can’t kick all the time,” I tell him, “If it did I think I’d just throw myself off the Astronomy tower!” 


“That was so cool,” he says, as if he’d just seen a very spectacular game of Quidditch.

“I know.” 


Malfoy takes his hands away from my no longer moving stomach, still grinning widely. He seems more excited about this than I do. 


“Make sure you tell me the next time that happens,” he says seriously. 


“You do realise that babies kick a lot, right?” 


He nods excitedly. 


“I know, but –” 


“It’s kicking again!” 


Malfoy puts his hands on my stomach again. 


“See, I told you they kick a lot.”




The baby didn’t kick much for the rest of the day, but I didn’t really mind. I was still excited from the other kicks. I was so excited that I didn’t even care about the dirty and mocking stares that I still got whenever I walked down the corridors. 


But then I remembered. 


I’m giving it up for adoption. I thought this would be easier. I mean, I’m hardly ready to become a parent – adoption is the fairest thing, isn’t it? Every time I even think of giving the baby away, I get this horrible feeling deep in my heart, as if it’s telling me that I’m doing the wrong thing. 


I need to talk to Mum. 


I hurry off to Flitwick’s office to ask for permission to go to Hogsmeade. I mean, as a prefect, I really shouldn’t be just heading out to Hogsmeade whenever I feel like it. I should be setting a good example. However, if Flitwick refuses to let me go to Hogsmeade, I’m going to have to sneak out. It’s in my blood. 


After ten minutes of convincing Flitwick that it really is an emergency, he lets me go to visit Mum. I go the normal way as opposed to the secret underground passage that leads me to Honeydukes. I’m practically out of breath by the time I reach Mum’s flat and after climbing up the many flights of stairs, I’m almost sure I’m going to pass out. I should really do more exercise. 


I knock on her door, but after five minutes of knocking and waiting, I realise she’s not in. Defeated, I trudge down the stairs again. Now who am I supposed to talk to? Bloody mothers – they’re good for absolutely nothing. When I leave the building, I think about heading to Honeydukes to pick up a couple of tonnes of chocolate, but then I remember that I promised Flitwick I’d go straight back to the school. 


On the way up the street, I end up walking straight into someone because I wasn’t looking where I was going. Typical me. 


“Watch where you’re going!” the man snarls. 


It’s Draco Malfoy


“Sorry,” I mumble. 


“Oh, it’s you,” he says, “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” 


Oh yes, me too Mr Malfoy. Tell me, how’s the wife? 


“Oh?” 


“Not here,” he mutters and looks around, “The Three Broomsticks.” 


I don’t know why, but I follow him into the Three Broomsticks. The place is fairly empty except for a couple of warlocks sitting in the corner. He points to a table and I sit at it as he goes up to the bar. I have to say this is the weirdest date I’ve ever been on. Draco returns to the table with a Firewhiskey for himself and a Butterbeer for me. I look at it with a raised eyebrow and then focus my sceptic gaze on him. 


“With all due respect,” I start with absolutely no respect evident in my voice, “What is it you want?” 


“I just wanted to see how you’re – erm – doing,” he says, clearly lying through his teeth, “You are carrying my grandchild after all.” 


“Yes, but I thought you wanted nothing to do with me or my ‘sprog’? It’d ruin your precious little boy’s chances of getting a job at the ministry, right? Merlin forbid your father being a Death Eater had already done that,” I say sarcastically. 


Draco’s eyes narrow. 


“You truly are your father’s daughter,” he hisses, as if what he said is an insult. 


“Yes, and proud of it,” I say calmly. 


He leans back on his chair and takes a sip of his Firewhiskey. I haven’t touched my Butterbeer. Rule number one of being a Weasley – never trust a Malfoy. 


“I can help you,” Draco continues after a few moments. 


“Help me with what?” 


“Your financial issues,” he says. 


“I don’t need, nor do I want your money,” I spit. 


“You haven’t heard me out, Miss Weasley,” he says. 


I pause and then sigh impatiently. 


“I’m listening.” 


“I can offer you a way out of your predicament,” he says calmly, “Have you ever heard of the healer Blaise Zabini?” 


I nod – Dad mentioned him in passing a few times with nothing more than disgust in his voice. But I’ve also heard he’s quite a good healer. 


“He’s the best healer of his day,” Draco goes on, “And he’s also a personal friend of mine.” 


“Congratulations,” I mutter. 


“He can help you.” 


“Help me do what?” I sigh, getting a bit sick of this conversation. 


“All it takes is one simple spell and it’ll be as if that mistake –” he points to my stomach “never happened.” 


I study his face for a moment. Is he joking? He has to be joking. 


“Think about it,” he says, “You can get your life back together. You’re sixteen, am I right? You’re hardly more than a child yourself.” 


I frowned at him. 


“Unless I’m misinformed,” I say coldly, “Weren’t you a Death Eater, plotting the death of Albus Dumbledore at my age? A little baby seems trivial compared to that.” 


“You shouldn’t believe everything Daddy and Uncle Harry tell you,” he says in a patronising tone. 


“Why not?” I ask, “It’s true, isn’t it? My dad wasn’t lying when he said you were a cowardly little ferret.” 


He twitches at the word ‘ferret’. 


“You should consider my offer,” he says, ignoring my last comment, “I’m willing to offer you a lot of money.” 


“You’re willing to pay to have your grandchild killed? Wow, that’s low even for you Mr Malfoy,” I say. 


“It’s not a child,” he says, “Not yet.” 


“It kicked this morning,” I say defiantly, “Your son seemed pretty excited about it. I’m sure you felt the same way the first time Scorpius kicked.” 


He takes another sip of Firewhiskey. 


“I was ready for a child,” he says, “I was married and in love. You, on the other hand, are carrying the baby of your cousin’s boyfriend. Do you really think Scorpius wants it?”

“Well this morning –” 


“He may have gotten excited when he felt a couple of insignificant kicks,” Draco scoffs, “But he has no idea what being a father entails.” 


“And you do?” I ask heatedly, “Is that why your own son felt the need to break your nose and spend Christmas with us?” 


“Scorpius has always been a bit of a firebrand,” he shrugs, “But he’ll grow out of it. My poor boy has a romantic view of the world. He doesn’t realise what you keeping this baby would mean for him. All he sees is a little version of himself that he can teach Quidditch to.” 


“What’s wrong with that?” 


“He’ll get bored of it once he realises that kids drain every bit of energy from you,” says Draco, “Not to mention the amount of money it costs to raise them. Do you really think it’s fair putting that sort of financial strain on your parents?” 


I never really thought of the financial end of things. When Dad was growing up, money was always a problem for his family. According to him, Draco Malfoy used to sneer him for it the whole time. Now he finally is financially stable it wouldn’t be fair for me to throw this burden on the family. We’d be struggling to make ends meet, just like Nana Molly and Grandad Arthur were when my Dad and his siblings were growing up. 


“I’m willing to offer you compensation, Rose,” says Draco, “How does a thousand Galleons sound?” 


They sound very nice. But that would probably be the most immoral thing in the world! Accepting money from a former Death Eater to have an abortion? Why don’t I just go outside and burn a bunch of puppies and laugh at the homeless? 


“I don’t know,” I say unsurely. 


“You don’t honestly want to keep that baby do you? I can’t imagine your father wants you to keep it…it’s half-Malfoy.” 


“And you don’t want it because it’s half-Weasley,” I say. 


“Malfoys and Weasleys will never be friends, no matter how much your generation think they will,” says Draco. 


“I’m sorry Mr Malfoy, but I have to go,” I say and jump up from the table, leaving my Butterbeer untouched. I hurry out of The Three Broomsticks, but Draco follows me out and grabs my arm. 


“Think about my offer, Weasley,” he hisses, “Don’t make the biggest mistake of your life.” 


“Let go of me,” I snap. 


Rosie?” 


Malfoy lets go of my arm quickly and I turn around to identify the owner of the voice. It’s him – today sporting jet black hair and bright blue eyes. It’s Teddy. I can’t help but let a smile wash over my face. He’s not looking at me though; he’s glaring at Draco Malfoy.
 

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Teddy shoots, frowning. 


“I was just having a word with Rose here,” says Draco, “It’s none of your business, Lupin.” 


“I think you’ll find it is my business,” says Teddy, “And if you lay one finger on her again, I’ll rearrange your face, got it?” 


Oh be still my racing heart! 


“You’d want to watch yourself,” says Draco, “You wouldn’t want to end up the same way as dear old Remus and Tonks now would you?” 


Teddy grabs Draco by the scruff of the neck and pushes him against the wall of The Three Broomsticks. 


“Get lost, Malfoy,” Teddy spits, “You pathetic little excuse for a man.” 


Teddy shoves him and then lets go. Draco turns to me. 


“My offer still stands,” he says, “Think about it – don’t be as stupid as the rest of your family.” 


With that, he turns on the spot and disapparates. I run to Teddy who is ready to embrace me in a hug. 


“What are you doing here?” I ask when we break apart, grinning up at him. 


“I came to see you, actually,” he says, “And I thought I might drop in on Aunt Hermione too. Christ you’re getting big!” 


“She’s not home,” I say and slap him on the arm for the ‘big’ comment, “That’s why I’m here. Then I got sidetracked by Malfoy.” 


“What did he want anyway?” Teddy asks, now walking towards the school. 


“He wanted me to have an abortion. He says Blaise Zabini can do it with one spell…and he offered me a thousand Galleons to do it,” I say. 


“I hope you told him where to shove it,” Teddy says angrily, “I’d love to give him a good thump in the face.” 


“It seems like that’s everyone’s ambition in life – Mum and Scorpius for example,” I say. 


“Scorpius hit him? I always knew I liked that bloke.” 


When we reach the school, we head to the Great Hall for dinner. Everyone’s head turns at the sight of Teddy. I can see some of the girls – including Laura Phelps, who’s sitting beside James – eyeing him with interest. Who can blame them? He is by far the best looking guy in the room. 


“Ted! What’re you doing here, mate?” James stands up and shakes his hand, grinning from ear to ear. I scowl at him – I may have united with him against the Slytherins and their idiotic chants, but I still hate him for going out with Laura. Al rushes over from the Slytherin table to greet Teddy, followed closely by Louis from the Ravenclaw one and Lucy from Hufflepuff. It’s a Weasley reunion. 


We eat dinner with Teddy and Dom arrives in half way through looking very disgruntled. 


“That stupid fuckwit Madam Pomfrey made me re-clean the stupid Hospital Wing because some arse of a first year came in and threw up all over the floor! I’m suing, I swear to Merlin, I’m taking this place to the cleaners – Teddy, what are you doing here?” she rants. 


“Alright future sis-in-law? I hear you were in detention,” Teddy grins at her. 


“Don’t get me started,” she growls – see, that’s her werewolf tendencies coming out in her. 


“We won’t,” says Fred dully. 


“So why are you here then, Ted?” asks Dom, piling her plate high with food and wolfing it down savagely. 


“I’m delivering wedding invites,” he says and pulls a pile of invitations out of his pocket. 


“Wow, she’s got you on a tight leash,” Al laughs, “Sending you all the way up here!” 


“I wanted to see you guys too,” Teddy admits, “And I was going to deliver Hermione’s, but she’s not home. So here you are.” 


He hands invitations around to James, Al, Lily, Hugo, Roxanne, Fred, Lucy, Molly and finally me.



Bill and Fleur Weasley cordially invite
Miss Rose Weasley plus guest
To celebrate the marriage of their daughter
Victoire Apolline Weasley
To
Ted Remus Lupin
On April 20th 2023
Ceremony and reception at Chez Delacour
RSVP 

“Chez Delacour?” I read, “Where’s that?” 


“It’s my grandparents’ house,” says Dom, “It’s just outside Paris.” 


“Yeah, Vic decided it’d be best to have it there – you know, it’d be warmer,” says Teddy. 


“It’s the day after my birthday!” I grin. 


“Really?” Teddy says in mock surprise, “Because you never remind us of it.” 


“Yeah, it’s not like you have a calendar counting down the days beside your bed or anything,” Dom joins in. 


“Well if wit were shit you’d all have diarrhoea,” I say tetchily. 


“Rose, you really do say the most vulgar things at times,” says Al, shaking his head. 





Teddy leaves shortly after dinner. He hugs everyone, but I notice that he hugs me the longest. When we break apart, he pulls me to the side so we can talk. 


“Look, Rose,” he says, “Are you seriously considering giving your kid up for adoption?”

I sigh heavily. 


“I don’t know anymore,” I admit, “I mean, I can’t put this financial strain on Mum and Dad –” 


“Bullshit,” says Teddy, “They’re loaded and you know it.” 


“Well, Malfoy doesn’t want a kid –” 


“Are you sure about that?” Teddy asks, “It seems like if he didn’t want it, it’d be him making you get rid of it, not Draco Malfoy.” 


I look down at the ground. The glow from Teddy’s ocean blue eyes is blinding me. 


“Rosie, you’ll be a great Mum,” says Teddy softly. 


I can’t stop myself snorting at that. 


“Are you serious? Are we forgetting the time I babysat Lucy and she ended up with those mysterious burns? Or the time I deliberately locked Hugo in the broom cupboard at home and Mum and Dad called the police because they thought he’d run away? Or the time I was minding that Muggle couple’s kid and I ended up in a heap on the floor, tearing my own hair out? I was in St Mungo’s for a week, Teddy – a week.”

“Okay, point taken,” Teddy nods, “But you’ll be great when the time comes. I promise. Just don’t do something you’re not totally sure of.” 


“What if I’m not great, Ted? What if I turn out to be a completely rubbish mother and as a result my kid will suffer? Like, what if he or she becomes the next Voldemort? I mean, it is half Malfoy, they hardly have the best records –” 


“Rose, have I ever told you that you over-think things way too much?” 


“I do not,” I say stubbornly. 


“I’m not going to argue,” says Teddy, “Just take care of yourself, yeah? I’ll write to you soon.” 


I give him one last hug and he leaves. Sometimes I wish my brain would just stop thinking, even just for an hour or so. I don’t want to think about what Draco Malfoy offered or what Teddy’s telling me to do. I don’t even want to think about the fact that my baby kicked, because I get an awfully guilty feeling every time I do. I just want to sleep. 


I head back up to the Gryffindor tower. I decide to take the shortcut through the tapestry instead of traipsing the whole way up the stairs. I pause just outside the tapestry when I hear voices from inside. Everyone knows it’s the Snogging Spot, so you’re always bound to get some juicy gossip if you linger outside it – and only sad people like me do. 


“Someone’s going to hear us!” I hear a girl’s voice giggle softly. 


“No-one comes this way anymore,” a boy’s voice says. 


“What if we’re caught?” 


“So? It’s about time we were,” says the boy. 


“Don’t start this again, Mark,” she says. 


Mark? Mark Matthews? This just got a whole lot juicier! 


“C’mon Dom it’s been a month,” says Mark. 


Holy Hippogriffs! Dom! I knew I recognised that voice! 


“I know,” she says sadly, “It’s just –” 


“What?” 


“I can’t do it to Scorp,” she says. 


“Seems to me you’re already doing it do him,” says Mark angrily, “Or am I just a bit of fun you can meet behind the tapestry any time you like?” 


“Don’t be stupid,” Dom says, “It’s just…I don’t know if I can just dump him. I mean, we’ve been together for three and a half months.” 


“Yeah, and you’ve been with me for one of them,” says Mark, “You’re obviously not happy with him.” 


I hear her sigh heavily. 


“Look, Dom,” Mark pauses, “I love you.” 


I’m starting to think that this isn’t a conversation I should be hearing, but my feet appear to be stuck to the floor. 


“Really?” 


“I’ve always loved you,” says Mark, “Since I was in third year and you were in second.” 


“I love you too,” Dom whispers. 


I don’t mean to point out the obvious or anything, but Dom is with Malfoy! What the hell is she playing at? I turn and run the long way up to the Gryffindor common room where I find James and Laura Phelps snogging on one of the armchairs. My mind is too preoccupied to even jinx them so I run up to my dormitory and wait for Dom to come back. 


We have some serious talking to do.





A/N - Little cliffe for ye! It's not a big'un, so you can't be too angry! Just to answer a few questions that are poppin' up - a lot of people are confused as to how far along Rose is. This chapter is set a week after Ron's birthday (March 1), so it's March 8. Rose got pregnant on James's birthday, which was October 14. (By the way, I just made up loads of the Next Generation birthdays - JKR hasn't confirmed them). So she is roughly five months pregnant at the minute. The baby is due in July (as mentioned in an earlier chapter). Also, Scorpius hasn't been kicked out by Draco - the reason he stayed at the Potters for Christmas was because his parents were away (see chapter 2, I think). He and Draco aren't on good terms at the minute, and although Draco seems like an irrational so-and-so right now, he does love his son deep down and only wants what he thinks is best. 
Thanks so much for all the reviews! The reason my updates are so quick is that I had these chapters pre-written for ages and also the queue is quite short at the minute! 
Happy May!
padfoot4ever(",)
P.S - Many of you guessed the Mark/Dom thing - kudos! Or perhaps I'm just getting predictable in my old age...


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