A/N: QLFC. Beater 2 for Tutshill Tornadoes, Round 5. Subject is Augusta Longbottom in her sixth year. Prompts are: 5 ('Flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss'), 7 (endurance), and 12 (return the favour). I had an absolute blast writing this so I hope you enjoy it. Much love!
Word count: 2,790
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(This is the story of Augusta Longbottom, before she was Augusta Longbottom, and the story of Frank Longbottom, before he was that, too.)
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Minerva McGonagall burst through a crowd of half-dressed, angry sixth year Gryffindor girls, who had been shouting and cursing the name of Merlin for about thirty minutes. Minerva did not claim to be a patient young woman, and this was certainly testing her.
"Iris," she said, through her teeth. "If you wouldn't mind, please move."
"What are you going to do then, Minerva? Kick down the door?" The five girls were, in fact, surrounding the single lavatory door in their dorm. It was evidently occupied, and the occupant had made note to seal it shut.
Minerva sighed. "I was thinking of asking nicely. Which is something I imagine none of you have tried, seeing as your screams have woken up everyone in the entire dormitory." She hastily made her way past the bothersome Iris and waved at the others to be silent. They watched her, their loud chirps quieting, and Minerva knocked on the door.
"Augusta?" she said, and then a little louder, "Augusta, it's Minnie. Let me in, won't you?"
There was a hesitant pause. Iris shot Minerva a rudely satisfied look.
The door opened just a crack, and Augusta's dark brown eyes shone from the other side. Minerva made a point of mirroring Iris's dirty look back towards her before she slipped through the door. When she was inside, Augusta slammed it shut and refastened the lock.
Minerva turned and appraised her friend. The normally bright face of Augusta Fawley was crumpled and red from furious looking tears. She breathed out, slowly, her whole chest caving from the movement, and sunk down into the floor.
"What's happened?" said Minerva. She sat down in front of Augusta, taking her hand. The action was wordless and largely unprecedented, and distinctinly unlike Minerva. Augusta's sunken face rose for a moment, eyes still with surprise. Minerva was not one for outright affection; she was sharing a rare moment with her. And perhaps it was the case for both of them. Something about that touch set her jaw straighter, gave her the courage to confide in her friend.
"You remember what I told you a few weeks ago?" Augusta asked, mouth small and sad. "About Colby Prewett and me?"
"Behind the Quidditch Pitch?" said Minerva. She furrowed her brow, and the realization came slowly. "Yeah, I remember."
"Well, you were right, it was terribly dumb, and—" Her eyes welled up with tears, and she wiped at them, words becoming sobs. "I'm pregnant."
"Augusta." She'd known, of course, before she'd even said the word, but it still sunk horribly within her nonetheless. She grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into her chest, embracing her. A terrible feeling overwhelmed her stomach and she could not find any words to comfort her sorrowful friend.
"He hasn't—he's hardly even looked at me, since then. What's he going to do, when I tell him I'm having a baby…?" Minerva released her gently, and rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Christ, I haven't even graduated yet. I've got an entire year left. What am I going to do?"
"We should go to the Hospital Wing and see Madam Dooley. They have methods to take care of these things, much better than any muggle medicine. I'm sure you aren't the first Hogwarts student to ever get pregnant."
"Oh, but I couldn't. I couldn't do that, Minnie."
Minerva breathed deeply, wanting to argue. Instead, she looked Augusta straight in her watery eyes, and smiled. "Okay. I'll tell you what you're going to do then. You're going to walk out of this bathroom, and you're going to be an entirely different woman when you do. You are going to walk up to that lousy bugger Colby and tell him you're having his baby, and then we'll figure it out from there."
Augusta's eyes went wide, and she wrapped her arms around her knees. "How do I do that?"
"You just do." She helped her friend up from the floor, and then hugged her again. Augusta buried her face in Minerva's shoulder, her body shuddering. "You've got to have strength, Augusta. Or else you'll never survive this."
"But how?"
"Don't worry about the how. The more you do these hard, terrible things, the less you notice them. It's endurance."
Augusta did not seem convinced, but nodded her head anyway, rubbing her tears against the wool of Minerva's jumper. "Okay. Fine. Okay."
Minerva squeezed Augusta's fingers. "You can do it."
x
Augusta looked for the Ravenclaw boy for half of the day, but she hadn't found him until all of her classes had ended and the sun was falling behind the grassy hills. The air was like sweet ice as she treaded the dimly lit Pitch. The feeling that settled in her stomach was not at all dissimilar to the feeling she'd had many weeks before, when she'd been here with him.
She stopped a few steps beyond the gate, and looked up. There he was, blue shirt beaming obstinately through the cloudy dark, doing loops on his broomstick. Before she could make her way over to him, she was interrupted by someone else.
"Oh, hey, I'm sorry," came an awkward, stumbling voice that was certainly not Colby. A boy wearing a similar Ravenclaw blue came from behind the gate, lugging a broomstick shaped bag over his shoulder. "I've got to close the Pitch in a few. Just closing after Quidditch practice, actually, but I'm waiting for… well… Prewett." He gestured at the figure Augusta had already spotted. Typical of him, she supposed.
"That's all right. I'm not flying." She smiled politely at the boy. She couldn't recall his name exactly; she was terrible with them. It might have been Edmund, but she didn't feel like asking. "I'm actually here for him, if you'll believe it." She nodded towards the Keeper still in the air. "D'you mind if I just close up for you instead? I was on the team fourth year, I know how it's done."
"Oh, well." He scratched his head. "I mean, I guess that's fine. It'd actually be a gigantic help. I've got a test I haven't studied for a lick. You sure you're okay with that?"
"Of course."
"You're actually a lifesaver, Gryffindor." He patted her kindly on the shoulder in gratitude. She told him he was being silly, that she didn't really mind at all, and then he parted ways.
As he made his way out, he turned over his shoulder and gave a large, enthusiastic wave. If she'd been in better spirits, she might have laughed. Instead, she gave a small smile, and waved back.
Her chest heaved with the largest inhale she could fill her lungs with, and she turned back to the Pitch. She watched the Ravenclaw boy in the air for a while before doing anything else.
"Colby!" Augusta called up. She felt small and insignificant, a red speck in a sea of green grass. She imagined that he might not see her, and did not feel entirely disenchanted by the miss.
But he did, and ceased his idle practicing slowly, as if he was carefully deciding on whether he would respond to her. Instead of coming down, he swung around in the air, creating a circle about where she stood.
"A little late for you to be about wandering the grounds, isn't it, Fawley?"
"Not if I'm specifically looking for you." He did another loop in the air, as if he hadn't heard or understood what she said. "Which I am."
"What do you want from me, then?"
"To talk. Could you stop spinning about and come down for a moment?"
"Is it important?"
She was irritated—perhaps beyond it. "Obviously, Prewett. Why else would I parade out here in the middle of the night? I'm not interested in recreating memories, if that's what you think this is."
"All right, all right. Give me a moment." And then he was gone, perfectly vertical into the air, where he disappeared. Within another moment he had returned, belting towards the ground at full speed. The momentum sent him rocketing towards the earth and Augusta felt a murderous jolt in her belly. What the hell was he doing? Did the idiot even possess a brain?
As he got closer and closer to the ground, Augusta grew increasingly panicked. When she was about sure he was going to become a flapjack, she whipped out her wand and screamed a levitation spell. A few feet off the ground, Colby was suspended upside down, his hair grazing the grass.
Augusta clutched at her chest.
"What was that for?" he said, upside down.
"What was that for? That's what I should be asking you, you git!"
He hopped off of his broom and stood upright. "I was going to straighten out. It's not like I haven't done it before. It's a rush, you know. Fun." He sauntered over to her, broom tucked beneath his arm. "Spoilsport, aren't you?"
"I about died watching you ready to kill yourself. But I'm fine, thanks."
"Flying is just throwing yourself at the ground and learning how to miss." He winked at her.
She scoffed. "You might have had more success if you'd thrown yourself into the air and prayed the ground didn't catch up."
"You're quite testy tonight, aren't you? I've never seen you so… feisty, Fawley." His grin was obnoxious, stupid, and very handsome. Augusta rolled her eyes.
"Look, I'm serious."
"All right, I see that. Spill your insides then."
She opened her mouth, prepared to do just that. But the anxious nerves returned to her in a flood, and it caused her to go completely still. She'd forgotten how nervous she was before, having been so furious at his typical reckless antics, but in the present she remembered her situation, and was suddenly very herself.
She couldn't stop the waters from drowning her. She just felt so stupid. Why did all this shame come from something that they both had done? She wished – wildly, suddenly – that she could just go through with what Minnie had suggested, seeing the nurse, taking care of this all quietly. But she couldn't imagine doing that; she didn't want to.
And perhaps that would settle it in her mind. If she was going to let this happen, she couldn't go through it alone. It was desperation.
So she blurted it out loud to him.
Colby's broomstick slipped from under his arm. He grabbed it unsteadily, as if he was trying to find it but didn't want to look away from her to see where it had fallen. His normally confident face was conflicted with several unreadable emotions. None of them were pleasant.
Eventually, he simply muttered: "I'm sorry."
"Well?"
"I'm seventeen," he said. "I'm not having a baby."
"I'm sixteen and I am. It's our reality now. We've got to deal with this."
"I can't—? I can't do that." He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, turned away. "No, I can't. I'm sorry. This isn't—this isn't what I want."
"This isn't what I want either, but now I'm stuck with it! Please, Colby." She came towards him and took one of his hands. His fingers remained stiff, nonconforming to her grasp. "Please, don't leave me to do this alone."
He shook away her hand. "I'm sorry."
He walked away then, and her face froze in horror as she watched him leave. She felt a crystal ball fall from her heart and shatter at her feet. The protests screaming within her grew silent, died in her chest. That was it. Alone.
x
"You can still see someone about it," said Minerva. Her voice was higher than usual, her face less composed. She was worried. Perhaps frantic. "Augusta, think."
"I've had an entire month to think." She shook her head. Her open bureau was stripped clean, the lasts of its contents spilling out of her trunk. She pressed her weight on them, pushing them under, and sighed. "I've got to leave. So what, Min? I was never good at school. Failed my Charms OWL last year, if you remember? There are things outside of this small, sheltered world we live in."
And it wasn't really true, her not being good at school. It was what she had to tell herself, though.
"But what will you do?"
She took her friend's hand, delicate at first, and then squeezed it with her own. "I'll build up my endurance, I guess."
Minerva's stoic face was a mess of quiet tears. She stared at Augusta, and soon they were both crying, just a little.
"It's not easy, is it?" said Augusta, gasping for breath as she wiped her wet face. "Pretending to be so hard all the time."
Minerva shook her head, quickly. "No, it really isn't."
Augusta gathered Minerva in her arms and held her close. "Promise you'll visit when the little one's born."
"As long as you promise to send me pictures of him every month. Or her."
Augusta smiled into Minerva's jumper. "Every week."
They separated, both of them wiping away the tears they were just a little ashamed of.
"Do you need help taking down your trunk?" asked Minerva.
"No. My parents will be here soon. Anyway, you'll miss dinner."
"Oh, that's all right."
"It isn't. Go. I'll see you soon."
"You won't, though."
"Soon enough." She smiled at her good friend, before they finally said goodbye, and Minerva departed.
When she was alone, she sunk into her neatly made bed and rested with her eyes closed. The walls felt tight around her, even though she knew she was far from them. She traced her fingers idly over her stomach, thinking of little feet. A feeling of terror overwhelmed her, but she smiled despite it.
After a few more moments, she gathered herself and took her trunk out of the room and down the stairs. It was manageable, but heavier than she'd realized, and she was out of breath by the time she'd made it down a single flight. She banged down a few more before stopping to recollect herself.
A boy started up the steps below her, and she smiled politely at him, wishing he'd been at dinner like everyone else so she could leave quietly. As he approached, she recognized him from the night before: the Ravenclaw boy who'd been closing the pitch.
"Hello," he greeted. "Need a hand with that?"
"Oh, ah…" She bit her lip. As embarrassed as she was, she wouldn't really mind it. "Yeah, if you're not too busy?"
"Course not. Might as well return the favor, eh?"
"Oh, that." She laughed nervously. Closing up the Pitch had literally not been a big deal at all – she actually wondered if she even had done it correctly – but she accepted the gesture nonetheless. She showed him which side to take, and they navigated down the moving steps with a considerable amount of time and effort. Still, it was much easier this way.
When they got to the bottom, they stopped, and she thanked him.
"Where are you taking it to?" he asked.
"Just the front. My parents will be there."
"Oh, all right. You going on holiday?"
"Something like that, yeah."
"Well, have fun then. I certainly wish I had a break from all this studying."
She smiled, a little sadly. She wished she could tell him to enjoy it, because not everyone could finish their own. "Edmund, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Edmund Longbottom. You're Augusta, right? I see you around the castle sometimes."
"Well, my best friend's a prefect, so I'm always around." She took her trunk in her hand, and raised her eyes to the ceiling briefly. She wondered if she'd ever stand here again, looking up at the castle. It was the last time she'd ever do it as a student, anyway. "Well, listen, Edmund. Thanks a lot for helping me with my trunk. It was very kind of you."
"Absolutely. Here's to seeing you around the castle some more, Miss Fawley." He grinned, small and sweet. They held each other's gazes for a long moment, and then Edmund turned and went.
She watched as he left. Then, taking a deep breath, she did the same.
As her parents came and took her away from the school, she thought, if it had been him, if it had been Edmund's baby instead, that he might have said yes. He would have wanted to raise the baby with her.
(And then, three years later, many months after they had met again in a book store in Diagon Alley, he promised her he would.)