Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter world which is owned by J. K. Rowling. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and the events which happen in this story are not canon. I am not profiting financially from this story. I only own my own plot ideas, which make up only a part of the plot, and original characters. Thank you J. K. Rowling for thinking up such a world as wonderful as Harry Potter.
Chapter #7
It was the nearly the end of my fifth year. O.W.L.s have already finished, and it was dinner time. We were all watching as Tom received a trophy for Special Services to the school. Apparently, a third year named Rubeus Hagrid and his illegal Acromantula had killed Myrtle. Tom caught the killers and they were expelled.
"…The school thanks you for your services."
Everyone applauded.
…
I breathed heavily.
"Argh…!" I groaned as I pushed one last time.
I then heard crying. My mother smiled at me, handing me my newborn baby wrapped in soft blankets. I looked lovingly down at my baby.
He had dark wisps of hair on his little head and dark eyes. I knew instantly that he took after his father in looks. Over eight hours of labour was worth it to bring this little angel into the world. He was born two months premature but he was healthy.
"Welcome to this world, Vincent Tom Gnarle," I smiled, kissing my son on the forehead. "And happy birthday. Your birthday is July 15th 1943, okay Vincent?"
…
I'm back at Hogwarts for my sixth year. I've been granted permission to travel home on the weekends as long as my mother escorts me so that I may take care of my infant son. I would like more time with Vincent, but I am satisfied with this arrangement. No one knows of my giving birth save for myself, my mother, and my Professors.
It was lunch time. I gulped down my pumpkin juice as I listened to Ruth go on about this cute boy she'd met in Hogsmeade.
"Blegh," I said, doing a spit take. This pumpkin juice tasted awful. I sniffed it, and it smelled absolutely putrid. "I think I'm going to be sick. Somehow, I managed to down the majority of this revolting stuff."
Robert chuckled. "I think we should take that as a sign. She drinks disgusting juice and spits in the midst of your gushing about this boy means you shouldn't get involved with this guy."
"Shut up, Robert."
"But Evelyn agrees with me."
…
"Evelyn," Tom acknowledged as I approached his usual table at the back of the library.
"Tom," I acknowledged in return, not really knowing what I should say.
Tom stayed silent, focused in his work.
"We haven't spoken in a while. Are you still angry?" I asked, trying to handle the situation delicately.
"Yes."
I nodded in understanding.
"Come on, let's take a walk," Tom stood, gathering his belongings.
I blinked, surprised. What? Didn't Tom just say that he was still angry with me?
"Come on," Tom grabbed my wrist, dragging me along when he saw me standing still like an idiot. He lead me out into the corridor, and we simply walked in somewhat awkward silence.
"So, how was you summer?" I broke the silence.
"It was lovely actually. I visited my grandparents as well as my father over summer vacation," Tom said, his familiar sly-smug-charming smile on his lips. "How was your summer?"
"Most pleasant," I grinned, thinking of little Vincent, "My mother and her boyfriend are thinking about getting married."
Tom smiled and nodded.
Suddenly, I started feeling sharp pains in my stomach, but in various places that kept changing. Then my knees buckled and I would've collapsed if Tom hadn't caught me. He lay me gently on the floor since I couldn't stand. My breath became shallow, and it became significantly difficult for me to take breaths.
"Evelyn, what's wrong?" Tom asked, concern etched into his features - which was quite rare actually.
"I…don't know," I wheezed, gasping for air and sweating. Tom hovered over me, leaning in close in order to hear me.
"…You're breath smells of…peppermint and…rose and…wormwood…," Tom trailed off, his brow furrowing.
"What…?" I breathed.
"…We need to get you to the Hospital Wing," Tom scooped me up into his arms bridal style and started walking really fast. "I think you might've ingested a poorly made potion. You could die judging from your symptoms if you don't receive treatment quickly."
"Tom…," I wheezed, having a hard time breathing as I bounced in Tom's arms. I reached for Tom's hand, holding it for comfort. "Tom, I'm going to die."
"No, no, you aren't going to die."
"Tom, I know I am going to die."
"No-"
"Tom, I think it's only fair that you know…you were the father," I blurted out, coughing.
Tom was silent, letting this news sink in.
"It's a boy, Tom, you have a son. His name is Vincent Tom Gnarle and he lives at home with my mother. Please, pay him a visit when you can. He's our son…Tom…," I trailed off, blacking out.
…
I woke up in an unfamiliar white room. It looked like I was in the Hospital Wing, but it didn't look anything like the Hospital Wing.
A passing nurse noticed me having awoken and smiled. "Good afternoon. Are you feeling any better, Miss Gnarle?"
"Uh, yes, thank you. I feel much better. May I ask where I am?" I asked politely. We definitely didn't have nurses in the Hospital Wing; Madame Pomfrey attended to all the students.
"You're in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Do you not remember that you had been poisoned by a love potion made horribly wrong?" I had no idea of what the nurse spoke of. I had no recollection whatsoever of whatever had happened to me.
"Dora," a male Healer called the nurse away.
"Evelyn!" my mom suddenly appeared by my bed, hugging me.
"Mother," I breathed, being squished to death - probably not funny given my current condition - by her hug.
"Eve, I need to go speak to the Healers now, okay? But I'll be back in a little bit. You'll be fine, I love you," my mother kissed my forehead before bustling off to talk to the Healers.
So apparently, I have amnesia. It shouldn't be permanent, but it might be. And my mother has decided that I will change my name and transfer to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. But I felt as if I were forgetting something, something very important at Hogwarts. Clearly I couldn't remember though, so I just ignored the feeling.
I had to go to St Mungo's for regular check-ups following my discharge from St Mungo's. A few weeks later, I met someone whom I felt was familiar to me but I couldn't remember if I knew them. It was in the 'common room' of sorts in St Mungo's.
"Those look like horrible scars," I commented, sympathetic.
"Yeah. Some guys at my school jumped me," the boy explained.
"That's terrible. What happened?"
"I was walking down an empty corridor and someone blinded me. They cursed me, and hexed me. Someone cursed this carving into my forehead," the boy pushed the bandages on his forehead up, showing me the word 'Mudblood' carved into his forehead in bloody letters, "and someone said, "Learn to brew potions correctly before administering them, you filthy Mudblood fool," before using the Cruciatus Curse on me."
There were tears in my eyes by the time the boy finished speaking. "You seem too be recovering well."
"Yeah. It helps to have my family supporting me," the boy smiled.
I smiled in return. This boy has been through so much and yet he's still so optimistic. He's pretty inspiring.
"What school do you go to?" I asked, curious.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
