Author's Note: I do not own or claim any right to Harry Potter or any other familiar character encountered in this story. This story is a work of fiction designed to improve my writing skills and as such the only reward I receive from it is practice.
Also, this is my first time allowing anyone to read my work, so while I do appreciate constructive criticism, please make sure that if you are sending me a negative comment you include a way for me to remedy the problem or a suggestion for the further to avoid the problem.
Thank, hope you enjoy!
Fred and George wandered the grounds, trying to avoid the wrath of certain members of their house. Their last prank had gone badly, leaving several of their test subjects with irremovable black eyes. Better to disappear for a little while until the heat wore off while they contemplated how to solve this problem.
The day was miserable, grey and drizzly and cold; the type of weather that no one would willingly choose to go out in, which made it the perfect place for the boys to be. They had long since cast 'keep-me-warm' and 'keep-me-dry' spells on their robes so the weather didn't bother them in the slightest.
"Want to go flying?" George suggested, Fred shrugged in response.
"I dunno, doesn't quite seem like the weather for it does it?"
"Well what do you want to do?"
"Forbidden Forest, maybe?" George shrugged in response, and started walking to the edge of the school grounds, they hit the edge of the Forbidden Forest but did not venture inside of it, choosing instead to wander along the edge of the forest.
They hit a large group of boulders tucked beside the forest and began to climb all over them, trying to out-do each other with how fast and high they could climb, and how far they could jump. Their fun was interrupted by the sound of retching, they turned to look at each other, thinking that perhaps it had been their twin who had suddenly gotten sick, confirming, with a glance, that it was neither of them. They began to look around, the retching sound had turned into a kind of desperate sobbing, and they followed it to the source. A girl, jammed up against one of the larger boulders, looking for all intents and purposes like she was hiding from plain sight.
"Hey are you okay?" they walked over to the sobbing girl, she didn't look okay, her hair hung about her face in wet lanky strands, she was hunched over just having finished puking, she was sobbing, and sitting next to her was a pile of homework, surprisingly dry that was crumpled up and much scratched-out.
"I'm fine, go away."
"Well, you don't look fine." George stated cheerily as he plunked himself down on her left side, with Fred following alongside on her right.
"Look, just leave me alone."
"Not until-"
"You tell us-"
"What's-"
"Wrong." The two boys countered, smiling at her, while Fred helped her up into a sitting position and conjured up a cloth to wipe her face with, while George cleaned up her vomit with a scourgio.
"I'm just having a bad day, please leave."
"Nope." The two responded in perfect sync with a perfectly annoying popping sound on the p.
"Why do you care? I'm a Slytherin, there's no reason for you to concern yourselves with me."
"Look, just because we're in Gryffindor doesn't mean that we like to see a Slytherin hurting. Well maybe Malfoy, annoying little prick, but not every Slytherin. We don't know you, what could we possibly have against you?"
"What wouldn't you?" She muttered in return, the two boys heard her, but we're unsure of how to respond to her comment.
"Look why don't we start over. I'm Fred and this is George. What's your name?"
"...Medea."
"Medea? Nice name, you know I'm pretty sure we've got a fifth or sixth cousin on my father's side with that name. Any chance we're related?"
"Doubt it. I'm a mudblood." She responded angrily, staring determinedly at the ground.
"Never-"
"Ever-"
"Use-"
"That-"
"Word!" The two finished in sync, the anger in their voice surprising her. "You're a muggleborn not that!" She laughed at them, bitterly laughed.
"Trust me when I say I'm not a muggleborn and that I'm a mudblood."
"No, why the hell would you refer to yourself like that?" George demanded of her.
"I'm the first muggleborn to be sorted into Slytherin in decades. I'm pretty sure that I learned what a mudblood was before I learned what a muggleborn was. Really it doesn't matter they're just two different terms for the same thing. Doesn't matter how you phrase it, the meaning, the intention is the same. It's like calling a whore a sex worker. Doesn't matter how much you pretty it up, it's still the same damn thing isn't it?"
"Hey now, that's an awfully negative attitude to have. I won't stand up for it. Pure-blood, half-blood, muggleborn, it doesn't matter, they're all the same damn thing. They all mean the same damn thing: magic! You're a witch, which defines you more than your blood ever could!" She shrugged her shoulders in response, staying silent. The pair of them looked at her intently, clearly waiting for her to reply.
"I guess."
"I guess is better than nothing, but we're going to work on this with you. I promise you."
"Can't you just leave me alone?"
"Nope." The pair once again spoke in sync, popping the 'p'. She really wanted to just wipe those smug smirks off of their faces. She didn't want to talk to anybody right now, why couldn't they get that!
"So tell us, what's the problem? What's got a pretty girl like you so upset?" She shuddered when he called her a 'pretty girl'. She hated those words, hated them with a passion that would never end, too many people had said such words to her in her life, and they were almost always followed up by things she'd rather forget.
"Nothing," They kept staring at her, expectedly, it was like they wouldn't leave her alone until she told.
"Look, just leave me alone."
"No, we're not leaving you alone until you tell us what the problem is and we do our damndest to try to fix it for you."
"Really? You really think you can fix any problem I have? Seriously? How fucking arrogant are you guys?" She was so fucking pissed, it's not like her problems were the namby-pamby ones that everyone else here seemed to have. She didn't care if the boy she liked was dating someone else, she couldn't even be bothered to like a boy. She wasn't fighting with her friends because that would require having friends. She wasn't falling behind in classes she was exactly as far behind as she'd always been. Her problems were actual, serious problems and how dare these children think that they could just fix them! "You're so sure you can fix my problem! So sure that you can make everything better with a smirk and a little magic! Well I'm pregnant! How the fuck are you going to fix that?" She demanded angrily before bursting into tears.
"Well, I was not-"
"Expecting that."
"Yeah, I didn't think you were." She half-smirked at them through her haze of tears.
"Well, I don't think a little wand-waving is going to fix this problem at all, do you George?"
"I'm pretty sure a little wand-waving is more likely what got you into this situation, than is what's going to fix it." She laughed at them, their reactions were not what she was expecting, they were smiling at her, not judging her, one of them, Fred she thought, was rubbing calming circles on her back. A giggle escaped from between her lips, a sound that had become so unfamiliar to her that she sat there stunned when it happened.
"Ah, no one can ever resist the Weasley charm, eventually we get everyone to laugh. Although I'll admit I was expecting more of a challenge from you." George smirked at her. She giggled again, and sat up straight. Maybe these boys couldn't help her, but god-damnit she really needed something to make her laugh. Hogwarts was always so desperately lonely that she often dreamed of escaping back home. Maybe they could be, if not friends, at least friendly to her.
"So, how far along are you?"
"Umm I'm not exactly sure, I think around two, two and a half months."
"Okay, and does the father know?"
"No."
"Are you planning on telling him?"
"No."
"Okay. So, are you feeling okay? Have you been checked out by a healer yet?"
"Umm aren't you going to ask me why I'm not telling the father? Or tell me that he deserves to know?"
"Why would I bother to do that, you don't want to tell the father, then don't. What's happening here is happening to your body, you are the ultimate authority in this. If you thought it was a good idea to tell the father than you would."
"Thank you," she was grateful, she had expected to have to justify not telling the father, possibly having to admit that she did not know who the father was. She did not want to be ashamed that way.
"But if you do decide that you want or need to tell the father and you need some support we'll happily back you up and be there for you."
"Thanks,"
"So have you been checked out by a healer yet? Has Madam Pomfrey seen you?"
"No, I just sort of confirmed it myself this morning. I don't know if I want to go see her, once I see her I have to deal with it. Right now it's just still theoretical."
"Okay, but you need to go, you need to see her, she needs to make sure that you're healthy, and if you want to keep it; that the baby is healthy."
"Yes, but she'll make me make a decision. I don't know if I'm ready to, I don't know what I want to do and she's going to start pressuring me, isn't she?"
"Probably, yes. But she'll be able to give you more information."
"I don't think that's worth it. I already have plenty of information on pregnancy and my options."
"Look, obviously we can't force you to go see Madam Pompfrey, but we are heartily recommending it." She gave them a disbelieving look, obviously expecting them to push further on the matter. Instead the twins helped her to her feet, gathered up her things for her and led her back to the castle. They began chatting about idle light things along the way, trying to steer the conversation to something that would not stress her out. They reached the main doors of the castle and the twins gave each other a questioning look, something seemed to pass between them and then with a nod they steered themselves, with Medea trapped between them, into the middle of the castle, avoiding the main traffic areas and therefore other people, and eventually found themselves in the kitchens. Medea looked around in wonder, and then turned to the twins with questioning eyes.
"We thought you might be hungry." Fred offered.
"And we also thought you probably didn't want to hang out in the Great Hall with everybody else right now." George explained. She nodded in agreement, seemingly dazed, she'd never known that the students could access the kitchens before. Maybe she could start going here for food rather than facing the Great Hall and all of its occupants. With that thought dancing about in her head, the trio sat down to eat, and for the first time in a long time Medea actually meant it when she smiled.