Disclaimer: I do not own any recognisable characters in this Fan Fiction.
A Story of a Muggle, Life and Draco Malfoy
The Dilemmas of a Teenage Muggle
By ThatRomantic
I kept the letter in my pocket after the last night I had gone to The Crown. I had only just turned seventeen when I met him and was on my Easter break from school. That holiday started the ball rolling for several life changing events. The first was meeting Draco Malfoy in The Crown and taking him back to my house. The second was having sex with Draco Malfoy. These were perhaps the things that affected me the most in the long run.
About a week later, my sister, Dad, Mum, and I were sat around the table, eating our meal from our white plates, an awkward atmosphere around us. My sister had just finished her last bite when my Mum drew a deep breath and spoke.
"Girls," she said. The tone she said it in immediately kept me on the alert. It was the way she started a very serious conversation that generally followed with some mild berating. It was the tone she used when she had found something out that she did not approve of about one or both of us. "Your father and I," she continued, "have been having some issues. We have been going to a councillor to try and work through our issues, but something has come up recently. Your Dad, he –"
"I got a job offer," my Dad cut in. "Out in Italy. I've been debating it for a while, but with everything that's been going on here, well, I wanted to stick around for a bit longer, but your Mum and I don't seem to be working. What we're trying to say is..."
"We are going to separate," Mum finished. The silence around the table was even more awkward than before. My sister looked like a lost puppy, turning her head to look from one parent to another.
"I'm leaving at the end of the week. They've got me a house out there for me to use before I find my own two feet, then I'll be able to get a different house."
"I can't afford to keep this house," Mum said. "I'll be moving out by the end of the month and I'll sell this house from where I'm living."
That was only the beginning.
After getting over the initial shock that my Dad was leaving the country, the house I had grown up in for most of my life being sold to strangers, and my Mum living in a new neighbourhood, I decided I wanted to live with my Dad. I could not pass up the opportunity to go to a country that I loved. I would finish my schooling in the UK and visit my Mum every weekend during term time. I felt guilty for leaving my Mum when I did to live with my Dad, but she understood.
"You love Italy," she said to me, "and you would regret not going if you stayed."
Term time was long and arduous, with exams that sent me further into the downward spiral that had started after Christmas. However, I enjoyed my time with my family and being in Italy for the May half term, revising in the warm sun on the patio of a villa set into the Frascati hills. My Dad had secured me a place for work experience in the PR department of the Italian company he worked for in the summer. I was happier than I had been when I was out there. The Roman sun seemed to relax me and I felt like I belonged. My last six weeks of term were a blur of exams, insomnia, and panic. I had noticed that I had missed a few periods since I had been back to school from the Easter holidays, but I put it down to stress and weight loss.
On the last day of term, I woke up and ran to the loo with sickness. I frowned but continued with my day, getting dressed up for Commemoration – the end of year ceremony – and tottered around in my five inch heels. I found that, despite my weight loss, the dress I was wearing was unusually snug.
I said my goodbyes to Matron and my House Mistress – who would not be returning next year to the house – and hopped in my Dad's car to be taken to Italy.
I started being sick more frequently in the mornings and started to put two and two together. I rushed to the local Pharmacia and bought a pregnancy test. The first thing that astonished me was the price of the thing – €20 for a stick to pee on! – and they were not always accurate. I got the one that was easiest to read and waited for two minutes. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and looked down.
Pink.
Oh, shit.
When Dad came home from work that night, I asked to talk to him in the living area.
"Dad," I started shakily. "Dad, please, what I have to say is really important and I want you to hear me out before you say anything."
"What's wrong, lovely?"
"Daddy," I said, holding back tears. "I'm pregnant." My Dad froze, unable to say a thing to me. I understood. I had worked so hard to break from the teenage conventions and make a statement at a Private school about how not all State school girls got drunk, had sex, and got pregnant, and here I was in that exact position. I looked down, unable to face the shame of looking my father in the eye.
"I... I don't know what to say..." he choked out eventually. "Do I know the father?"
Yes, Dad, you do. Not personally, of course, but that would be difficult seeing as he's supposed to be a fictional character, I thought. "No," I replied instead. I knew I would have to tell my family eventually who I had had sex with, especially if the baby is anything like its father.
"Does he know?"
"No," I said again. "He won't ever find out."
"He deserves to know," my Dad said firmly.
"I know he does, but he's quite hard to reach. He doesn't use conventional methods of communication."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to keep it. I'm ten weeks along anyway, so..."
"Ten weeks! You're ten weeks pregnant and you only thought to tell me this now?"
"I didn't find out until today! If I knew sooner I would have told you," I pleaded. He calmed down eventually and asked if I had told Mum.
"No," I said. "I'm flying out tomorrow. I got some last minute tickets. I'll tell her and everyone else when I'm over there."
The flight to England was one of the most nerve racking I had had yet. I literally turned up at my Mum's unannounced, having booked a taxi to pick me up from the airport. I regretted booking the firm I had. They were from the village I had grown up in and knew me personally, meaning they asked rather personal questions. I could tell I was distant for the whole journey and I think the taxi driver eventually got the message. I rang the doorbell, clutching my small suitcase in one hand. My Mum answered the door with shock-turned-delight on her face.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "It's so good to see you!" She embraced me warmly, and bustled me into the small house. "What brings you back so unannounced?" I stalled answering the question by asking if my sister was in. My Mum called for her and I was glad that I did not have to tell them separately.
"I think you should sit down," I said to my younger sibling who simply stood there and stubbornly shook her head. "Okay then," I took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant." I heard a thump from the direction in which my sister was standing and looked over frantically. It seemed she had decided to sit down after all. It would have been funny in any other situation.
I looked back over at my Mum, not knowing what to expect. It was worse than Dad. She did not say anything for a while, but simply looked disappointedly at me. Once she had composed herself, she asked the same questions that Dad had. Once the questioning was over, my sister seemed to have calmed herself and came over to give me a bone-crushing hug.
"Can't breathe!" I gasped, trying to get out of her grasp.
"Oh, sorry," she said and immediately looked down at my stomach. "I didn't hurt it did I? I didn't mean to. You know what this means though, don't you? I get to be a cool Aunt. I'm so going to corrupt your baby. You won't know what hit you. I'm going to buy it clothes, take it to the Zoo, ooh... Does this mean we get to go to Sea Life again? This is going to be so much fun!" I laughed at my sister's ramblings. She was generally a girl of few words, but she seemed to forget herself.
That night was extremely peaceful. We all sat on the one sofa in front of a movie, eating rubbish. I was not particularly hungry but it was good enough for me. I told them that I was planning to tell Grandma and Grandpa personally rather than over the phone, as I knew their reactions were better seen not heard. My Mum looked at me worriedly but did not say anything.
I decided to call my grandparents the next day to arrange a time to meet them. I told them that I would only be around for a short while, as I had to get back to Italy to start my work experience. It was not a total lie, more omission of the truth. When we arrived, Grandma was smiling and told me that she had made it a bit of a family gathering. I walked into the living room and saw what felt like my worst nightmare. Not only was Grandpa there, but my two cousins, my uncle, his wife, and his step-children. I could not have been more grateful for my sister's hand in mine than at that moment.
Dinner was an awkward occasion, and I could not help but feel strange being sat at the 'children's table' when I was carrying one in my womb. That being said, the only real child at the table was my younger cousin, who was five years my junior. Grandpa offered wine around the table (minus the younger cousin) and I refused. No one was particularly surprised, as I was known for not drinking, but my sister took it one step too far when she said, "She shouldn't in her condition, anyway. Bad for the baby." Several things happened at once. I turned bright red with embarrassment and buried my face in my hands, my sister covered her mouth, cutlery was dropped to plates with loud clatters and the wine bottle Grandpa had been holding smashed to the floor.
"Baby?" Grandma rasped, sounding as though she was deciding whether to be elated or disappointed. In answer, I simply whimpered.
"Well this is awkward," my younger cousin's half brother said. I chanced a look up to see all eyes on me, most looking at me in shock. My mum looked sympathetic and then shot a distinctly murderous look at my sister. Grandpa was the worst though. I had never seen him so angry.
"Get out," he hissed. I looked up at him in shock. I knew he would react badly and would not approve of my decision, but we were close. I looked up at him, tears brimming my eyes and fear evident on my face. "Get out of my house," he said, a little louder. With this I shot up from my chair, grabbed my coat, and left the house, tears streaming down my face as I waited by the car for Mum to drive me home.
I travelled around the country telling my family the news. My aunt was just as ecstatic as my sister had been and my other grandparents, although disappointed, did not throw me out of the house. The rest of the summer was a blur. When I returned to Italy I did well in my work experience, securing a placement for the next summer. Before I returned to school, I had to tell my House Mistress my situation and agreed to work on trying to keep my life as normal as possible. The day before I returned, I flew back to England with my dad. Both my parents and my sister saw me off to school that day, and it helped me immensely. That night in House Call my conditioned was announced.
Despite my initial fears, I was starting to get excited about the prospect of being a mother. The girls in house were extremely welcoming to the idea, and I found out who my real friends were. Studying had become difficult, especially during my third trimester, but they all seemed eager to please and were constantly fussing over me. I went to my Mum's every weekend like I had before I was pregnant, and we would all sit in front of the tele and pig out, having an assortment of things to eat to satisfy my cravings. I went back to Italy in October to see my Dad and his new woman. They both commented on how big I was, and how beautiful it made me look. I simply smiled politely and said that I was craving homemade fruit-salad and vanilla ice-cream. Before I knew it, it was December and I was in my eighth month of pregnancy. The Heads of House decided to make our House Outing about me and my baby, having a meal to celebrate it.
That Christmas, I got a lot of presents for the baby and me. My Secret Santa had bought a white blanket with the words 'I House Mascot' embroidered in house colours on it. Matron had pulled me aside to give me a small knitted hoodie in the same colours. Mum bought a crib for her house, and yellow blankets. I had decided not to know the gender of my baby to make it all the more exciting. Dad had bought a crib for the Italy house with pale orange blankets. From my aunt I got a changing mat, and from my grandparents on my dad's side I got various pieces of technology to help with the care of the baby. I saved my money from previous months as well as the small amount I got for Christmas and bought a beautiful buggy for Italy, where I had decided I would live after school, as well as clothes and other bits and bobs. I was given a foldable buggy for when I was in England by some family friends over there.
I was back at school for two weeks when it started.
When my water broke, I screamed.
"What is it?" called the girl in the room next to mine as she rushed to open the door.
"Get Matron," I said, breathlessly. "It's started."
After several long hours of screaming myself hoarse, I gave birth to a five pound beautiful baby girl, on the eighteenth of January. As soon as she was placed in my arms, I fell in love.
"Hello," I said to her tiredly. "I love you," I said before drifting to sleep.
That week was busy. I had visitors coming in and out to see me and my baby girl. My sister was the last to visit. She had been at college all week and was excited to meet her new niece after hearing so much about her from the family.
"Hey," I said to her as she bounded in. "Meet your niece."
"Wow," she breathed. "Does she have a name yet?"
"No," I said. "Her father's side of the family have a tradition of naming their children after stars and constellations. Even galaxies, in some cases. I kind of want to keep that tradition going."
"Well, that makes it tricky," she said. "I can't think of any good names with that."
"I like Aurora, but I don't think I'd be able to abbreviate it if I wanted to," I said.
"Hmm... Even trickier. What are all the star signs?"
"They all sound too masculine. If it had been a boy I probably would have called him Orion but..."
"I can't think of any."
"How about Cassiopeia? Cassie for short," I asked.
"That's too big for this mini girl."
Hearing her say this, I suddenly had a thought. "How about Gemini?" I asked. "Mini for short."
"I like that a lot," she said.
"Me too," I said. I smiled down at my baby, "Gemini Hope Heath-Malfoy," I whispered. At this my sister looked up at me, with a puzzled look on her face.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Gemini Hope Heath," I answered, completely straight faced. I'm thinking of you, I thought, remembering the line he had written on the letter nine months previously. 'Please know that you gave me hope for my son,' he had said.
You gave hope to me and our daughter, I thought.