Everybody has a life plan. A series of goals and expectations they wish to achieve before the inevitable time of their demise. Some have big goals that will leave a lasting imprint on the world such as starting a major company or discovering a new medicine. Others, however, aim for the more simple things like getting married or getting their ideal career.
Everybody except me of course. Don't get me wrong, I have some things that I want to do, like marrying a rich Quidditch player, buying an Audi R8, finally completing Little Big Planet2, shallow teenage dreams, you know. Things I intend to achieve without any real thought or effort on my behalf. But never, ever, ever in my wildest of daydreams did I ever think I would fall pregnant at 17. Yeah, I know, shocking.
Teenage pregnancies were always something I associated with, for want of a better word, whoreish behaviour. I thought that girls ended up in this unfortunate predicament because of frivolous behaviour, sleeping around with different boys, things like that. I now know that in a vast majority of teenage pregnancies the resulting child is often a product of a loving relationship gone astray and, more often than not, a failure on Durex's behalf.
Unfortunately for me, my pregnancy was indeed a result of whoreish behaviour. It was not like I was sleeping around in fact, I was incredibly unlucky to fall pregnant the very first time I ever had sex but I still count drunkenly sleeping with my best friend whoreish. Even if people say it was only a matter of time before me and James 'got it on' anyway.
I think I should explain. My name is Isabella-Rose Leighfield. I am fifteen years old and I am currently attending my penultimate year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I live in the wizarding village of Frixton, just outside of London. I live there, in the Ministerial apartments with my Mother and Father, the Minister of Magic, and, occasionally, my two twin older brothers: Sam and Dan. Next door to us, live the Potters; Harry, Ginny, James, Albus and Lilly. Our families have been joined at the hip since as long as I can remember. Since as long as anyone can remember for that fact and we've shared everything from tummy bugs to old trainers. We're just like one big family and we often frequent each other's houses for Sunday dinners and nights in.
Because of this, James and I have obviously been best friends for the majority of our lives and the times we weren't it was usually because I had stolen James' broom stick or he had done some childish spell that turned some part of my anatomy bright purple. We know each other inside and out and he could, unfortunately, write a long, embarrassing biography of me and I wouldn't put it past him to publish it across the world. Several times. I've watched him grow from a boy into a man and I have stuck by his side through every bad thing in his life and him through mine.
Everyone has always had us pinned as the best friends that everyone knows will get together eventually. People always tell me, 'You love him, you just don't know you love him' truth is I'd rather 'love' a Blast-Ended Skrewt, I'd have probably considered it more attractive. He was like my brother and that used to be the only love I felt for him.
That of course all changed on the 1st of September 8 months and 6 days ago….
