A Likely Story

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

"A likely story!" you'd scoff, "Sounds like something you'd read in Witch Weekly."

But I'm telling you, it's the truth, although I find it hard to believe myself.

You'd never believe me, though, because you'd always have to ask yourself, "How could she not have known?"

Well, it's a long story, but the truth is, I really had no idea. Those were terrible, dark times, towards the end of the War. I was working with Severus, trying to find a potion, any potion, that could help our side and bring about the end of Voldemort. The word "stress" doesn't even begin to describe it. Long, hard hours in the dungeons, working over the hot cauldrons; more long, hard hours poring over ancient and arcane manuscripts, looking for the answers I knew were there but never seemed to find. And then, falling in love with Severus…

You might think that made things easier, but it didn't. How could it? Every waking moment was filled with thoughts of him, jostling for space with the puzzles of our work, and when I finally fell asleep at night, my dreams were filled with him as well.

And when we realised that we felt the same way about each other, it all got even harder. We had to keep our relationship hidden from everyone, even Albus, for fear that the information might find its way into the wrong ears and be used against us somehow. Severus was still working as a spy, back then, and even our brief moments of happiness together were tainted with the knowledge that he faced death every time he was summoned by Voldemort. If he was discovered…my heart seemed to stop beating at the thought of losing him.

In those circumstances, it's hardly surprising that I ignored the stomach upsets, the vomiting, the constipation. I've always reacted that way to stress - I used to throw up before every exam at school, remember? And if I noticed that my periods were becoming less regular - well, it hardly seemed important, compared to everything else, and they always turned up in the end.

So things carried on like that for months - working, eating, working, sleeping, working…grabbing a few brief moments together whenever we could, barely aware of anything beyond the dungeon walls.

The breakthrough came at last, one night in mid-October. Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle fell into place and we knew exactly what we had to do.

It took seven hours, nearly, to brew the potion, and many times during those hours I thought I was going to collapse. My period had started that morning, heavier and more painful than usual, and as I stood at Severus' side by the simmering cauldron I was constantly gripped by terrible cramps. But the potion was far to important to be delayed for a few period pains, so I gritted my teeth and carried on.

Finally, it was finished and as Severus started to bottle it in the vials we had prepared earlier, I collapsed onto my hands and knees, crying out in pain. He came to me at once, the potion forgotten, and held me as I rocked back and forth, trying to shake myself free of the pains that kept coursing through me.

I was sure, now, that we'd been discovered, that somehow I'd been poisoned or cursed, that this was only the beginning of the pain and terror I was going to feel that night. I ranted and screamed at Severus, telling him to leave me and take the potion to Dumbledore, to finish the job we'd started together, but he wouldn't go; I think he was as scared as I was by what was happening to me, and that was almost as bad as the pain itself, seeing him so at a loss for once.

I was hysterical by now, screaming in pain but begging him not to touch me in case the curse could be transmitted to him. I rolled on the floor in pain; it felt as though my body was trying to turn itself inside out, or expel something huge from inside me. The fear of what monstrous, curse-created thing it would be filled my mind with panic as I felt it finally slide out of my body.

When it was over, and I saw what "it" was, I was shocked into silence for a moment. But then I was able to beg Severus to finish our job; my calmness in assuring him I was alright convinced him where my screaming hadn't and he left at a run, carrying to Dumbledore the potion that would end the war. (He told me, later, that he fought with Harry outside Albus' office - Harry innocently remarked that it must have been hard work, brewing the potion, and Severus apparently grabbed him by the throat and told him, in great detail, exactly how hard it had been, especially for me. But that was later.)

I sat in the dungeon in silence, rocking our tiny, beautiful daughter in my arms as she slept, thinking simply that she was a miracle.

Oh, it's not all been plain sailing since then, of course. Poppy guessed, from her size, that little Elizabeth was about 7 weeks premature, and I had trouble nursing her at first - her little mouth just wasn't big enough; and I needed a myriad of healing charms where her birth had ripped my body open. But I'm recovered now, and she is strong, and healthy, and growing fast. Any worries we might have had are far behind us now: The war is over, Severus and I can be together, and we have our gorgeous, miraculous daughter.

And if I can't believe it, there's no reason why you should, is there?