Okay yes I managed another! i feel like i still have such a long way to go, but ...36 oneshots...i think i can be proud of that. I ALSO DON'T LIKE PEOPLE WHO DON'T READ SHORT AUTHOR NOTES LIKE MINE!!!!! seriously if you didn't read #34 and went staright to #35 i'm gonna hurt you...not really lol it's just weird, maybe it's just me but i like reading what authors have to say ...okay, that's it!

inspiration for this ch goes to the song 'I know, I know, I know' by Tegan and Sara

Theme 36: Precious Treasure

Rating: K+

I Know

I awake to the sound of you working, just one room over. I know you're working because you only pace when you're trying to think like a killer. I know where I am, but for a minute I forget why I'm there.

I feel embarrassed for having fallen asleep at order head quarters, this was supposed to be a place of utmost serious events and planning. Even though it looked like a house, it wasn't someplace to just go napping.

But then I remember the previous nights meeting, it crashes back down on me as I test the temperature of the floor with my socked feet. I grip the edge of the bed hearing Dumbledore's words again. A prophecy, a child, I feel suddenly very sick and make with haste to the bathroom.

I kneel panting over the toilet bowl, I clutch the porcelain trying to ease the ache in my stomach, and the hurt in my heart. You're at the door, you want to know if I'm all right. But we both know I am, it's been happening frequently as of late, and we both now know why. I call out to you, and soon hear your retreating footsteps back to where you start pacing again. But this time, I don't know if you pace because of work, or because of me.

After I feel a bit more settled, I flush the toilet and rinse my mouth, splashing water on my face too. This couldn't be happening to us…it wasn't fair. I look up at my reflection in the oval mirror over the sink. A dripping white face looks dreadfully sick and tried back at me. The vibrant colour red of my hair and the green of my eyes makes my completion seem even more sickly.

I towel my face and sigh into the terrycloth. My previous thoughts were unjust, it wasn't happening to just us, Alice and Frank are also in this mess. And that's what it is. It's a mess; one that can't be cleaned up with a simple scrougify. I lean on the wall opposite the sink, looking at myself. I wouldn't look like this for long.

I ran my hand over my abdomen once, trying to imagine the future, but then I think of it again. Nothing like what's happening should be forced upon a child. A regular child shouldn't even be brought up in these conditions. I sighed shaking my head and manage to brush my teeth and straighten up my hair.

In the hall I run into you, I know you're worried, you look like you've aged ten years in the past eight hours. Or maybe that's just because I haven't realized how mature you've become. It's hard to think about for me, as long as I've known you, you were always so…childish. So now when you ask me if I'm really all right, with that depth in your eyes and the lines forming between your brows, all I can do is shake my head.

I'm so scared, and I'm sure you knew as you held me in the middle of the hallway. You uttered softly that everything would be all right, we'd learn to adapt, and it's all just so new. We'll make plans, you say. Your words don't do much, but just the warmth you provide is enough. The heat from your skin seeps through the layers of clothing between us, and I can feel you there, I feel you're with me.

The conversation around the table dies down as we enter together. I cast my eyes aside, I feel ashamed of myself in their pity. You muttered something of a greeting, and your friends jump up to take you away. I head over to burry myself in the kitchen, making tea and toast for my stomach.

When I push the door open, I see Alice, staring blankly at a cupboard. Her usually joyful round face his drawn, she look as at tired as I feel and I suddenly feel a deep connection with her. I shuffled a bit further inside and she notices my presence and manages a weak smile.

We talked of mindless things, how the weather is, how the house smells a bit like cigars, how it's hard to sleep these days. And then silence falls between us, leaving only the murmurings of the kettle to break the tension.

She cracks first, asking how I'm handling it. I think maybe it affecting her more too, she knew about her child, she wanted her child, she planned it all out, and to have something like this placed on her is just…unfair.

I feel selfish for dreading it at all, I didn't put the pieces together until yesterday afternoon, right before we went into the meeting actually. The smile you and I shared when I told you before we took our seats feels like a bitter irony now.

Alice tells me as I pour us both some tea that Dumbledore talked to her privately yesterday. I look and feel interested for once, a private council with Dumbledore was big.

" He said something that makes me think…I don't know it makes it a bit better I suppose, he said that it's like…a precious treasure, that we have the honor of taking care of," she said beaming. I take a tip of tea, masking the cruel mocking laugh, that's looming in my chest.

I feel like it's dreck, dreck only a Longbottom would sop up, but then I feel horrible. Horrible because the situation has made me bitter and uncompassionate. Alice and Frank are very nice people, and I should never think ill of them, but deep inside, I know, and they know, and you know, they have nothing to worry about.

That precious treasure, as they called it, was ours. I couldn't talk to Alice any longer, because it just rubbed my nose in it further. The mess I was in. I found you, and sat close to you eating my dry toast, trying to stop thinking about it. The eyes that lingered on me were caring and open, but I felt like they were criticizing me. Pitying me.

Your comforting arm around my shoulders does little to stop the penetrating gaze of those around us, It's only Sirius and Peter getting into a large fight that stops the stares completely. Separating the two is a simple procedure but it provides enough of a distraction for me to feel the tiniest bit normal again. And sitting there, at the large wooden table, watching the brawl unfold like we were back in school put in me in my place.

I looked up, startling you. I smiled at Alice, she was right. She was, and this was a precious treasure.