My eyes snap open, but it is pitch black. It takes a second for me to remember exactly where I am, why there is a girl buried in my arms, and how I got here to begin with. As it all comes back, so does the realization that my arm is asleep and my back is aching from the awkward angle of staying balanced on the hospital bed.
Carefully, I remove my arm from under Ginevra's head, but she doesn't even flinch as I shift my weight off the the bed. Exhaling as quietly as I can, I shake out my arm of the prickling needle sensation and stretch the rest of my stiff muscles out. Rubbing my face tiredly, I start to exit the curtained room and nearly run into Poppy.
She is dressed in her usual healer robes, but her shoes have been replaced by soft fuzzy slippers. I realize she must have had a charm on the room to alert her if Ginevra woke. I start to wave her off, but she puts a finger to her lips and motions towards her office, inviting me in.
"What time is it?" I ask once we finally make it inside.
"Nearly eleven," she says in a low voice, flicking her wand to shut the door and turn on the lights. She pushes a tray of food on her desk towards me. "I figured it best not to disturb either of you, but I had the house elves deliver some food in case you woke."
As I suddenly realize how famished I am, I throw her a grateful smile and take a seat in the empty chair. "Thank you. I assume that also means that Ginevra's vitals are still stable."
She nods. "I have no reason not to release her into your care come morning. But Severus," she says hesitantly, "I didn't want to say anything earlier with the Headmistress around but I have to tell you I am going to have to send the ministry an official report of what happened."
Her voice is shaky with nerves, but I am don't understand why. "And?" I ask.
She presses her lips and makes an uncomfortable face. "Severus, I'm really sorry. I really am," she says quickly, "but the report is very thorough and I had to make sure there wasn't detail I missed in her last exam or the Ministry could accuse me of negligence or assisting in termination of a pregnancy-"
"So, you missed something?" The food in my mouth suddenly feels like sand.
"No," she rubs her forehead tiredly. She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. "In my tests, I discovered the makeup of the baby's magical core. And I have treated you enough times to recognize your signature as well as any spell. The baby, well…" she looks at me to finish, but I stare back blankly and wait. Poppy drops her eyes and says in a low voice, "The child was not yours."
"Oh, " I clear my throat, trying to look surprised. "I see. Well, that is… unfortunate."
Poppy shakes her head and blinks several times as if I've just told her Lord Voldemort sent me a birthday card. Realizing she is looking for a more emotional reaction, I frown with faux anger.
"Unfortunate?" Poppy repeats. "Unfortunate? That's all you have to say?"
Seeing that she isn't buying into my ruse, I try shifting to shock and add, "You are sure?"
Then her eyes widen in fury and her voice rises as a realization comes to her. "You know already don't you? All night I've been sitting in here trying to figure out how to tell you and you already knew? You are a right bastard!"
"Do not presume what I did or did not know!" I hiss back, casting a Muffliato spell on the room. She lets out a frustrated huff as I explain, "Yes, I suspected, but Ginevra has no idea." Poppy starts to speak, but I cut her off in a loud voice saying, "And unless you are telling me that you are going to tell her or the ministry, then it's no one's business how it happened, how I know, or how I feel about it."
"Severus," she sighs, "you know I would never pry into your personal life and that I have the good sense to not even question why on earth you would choose to keep this kind of secret from your own wife. However, I don't think you understand what this is going to do to her."
"She has already made one mistake by sleeping with someone else. Why should I continue to punish her by revealing she has been carrying around the evidence since then?" I practically shout. Poppy looks momentarily stunned.
"Because she is going to blame herself for the miscarriage," she insists. "If you continue to let her think that baby is yours, not only will she feel guilty for something she has no control over, but she'll also feel like she disappointed you as well."
"Don't be ridiculous," I snap. "She'll be more concerned about what the ministry will do to her. Furthermore, the loss of a child will be difficult enough for her to handle. But if you think she'll be concerned with disappointing me, you must have lost your damned mind."
"I can assure you, my mind is as right as ever," she rolls her eyes. "However, a woman's mind is a complex thing. There is no telling how your wife is going to deal with this, but I can tell you that withholding information from her is not going to help. Women who miscarry need to mourn the loss. Don't you think she will figure out that you will not be mourning?"
"I wouldn't shed a tear if the child was mine anyway," I argue. "Neither of us wanted the child, but we didn't have a choice. Once she gets past the shock, she'll be happy it happened," I reason.
Another frustrated sigh escapes her. "Do not presume to know," Poppy repeats my words back to me, "how she will deal with this. Every woman deals with miscarriage differently and there is no telling how she will. I'm not trying to tell you what will happen. I'm just saying that you need to be prepared for the the possibility that continuing to hold this secret will do her more harm than good."
"I will take your advice into consideration," I state unemotionally. "Can I at least presume you will use your discretion for now?"
"You are impossible," she mutters with a shake of her head. I raise my eyebrows expectantly, so she rolls her eyes again. "You know that as her husband, you have every right to have me withhold information from her."
"But I am asking you as a friend," I reply. She looks suspicious, so I add, "Please?"
She stares at me long and hard, obviously debating the pros and cons of what I am asking her. Finally, she let out a tired sigh and gives in with a nod of her head. "Don't make me regret this promise, Severus."
"I don't intend to."
A groan escapes me as I pry my eyes open. The room is bright and white, unlike my own in the dungeons. It takes a minute for me to realize where I am and then the horror from a previous day comes flooding back. But before the tears can well up in my eyes, a voice comes from behind me.
"Ginevra?"
Rolling to my other side, I spot Severus sitting next to the bed, setting the book he was reading on a nearby table and leaning forward slightly. Next to him, a tray of breakfast floats lazily.
"How are you feeling?"
His simple question catches me off guard. For a minute, I start to believe that I imagined falling asleep in his arms. I glance down at the rumpled hospital bed, but then spot a single black hair on my pillow and know it wasn't a dream.
To keep myself from breaking down, I blurt out, "My head hurts. And I'm tired."
"Here," he hands me a potion. "For your head." I down the potion and feel the pressure from behind my puffy eyes recede. As I hand the vial back, he hands floats the tray to me. "You should eat."
"I'm not hungry," I say, laying back down. "I just want to go back to my room."
"Ginevra," he presses gently, "I know you don't want to eat, but Poppy won't release you from the infirmary unless you are healthy enough. You don't have to eat all of it, but since you missed dinner, you should eat some breakfast. Please?"
As much as I want to argue, I can see his point, so I just nod in agreement. It isn't until I take the first bite that I realize he just said "please". It forces me to focus on his kindness rather than my emotional turmoil.
"Would you like some?" I gesture to the tray.
"I ate while you were still asleep," he explains.
"Oh," is all I can come up with. I start to wonder if he is going to watch me eat. As if I said it outloud, he saves me from his probing eyes as he picks the book back up off the table and begins to read again. Relieved, I pick at a slice of toast and sip the orange juice in silence. Hogwarts toast is always perfect, today it just tastes bland. Even the fresh squeezed juice is unappetizing, but I force myself to trudge on.
When I finish my last bite, Madam Pomfrey pushes open the curtained door. "Good morning," she greets. I expect her to ask me how I am, but she just walks over and begins waving her wand in series of tests.
Severus sits still, concentrating on Madam Pomfrey's movements. After a moment, his eyes lock on mine and his expression softens. Something about his whole demeanor makes me feel overwhelmed. Finally, I can't hold it in any longer and let out a sob.
"Ginevra?" he asks, his voice slightly rising in concern. It just makes me cry harder.
"There, there," Madam Pomfrey pats my back. I try to calm down, but it is no use so she just continues on gently. "I know this is hard, but I just need to ask you a few questions. Okay?" I nod, but the tears continue to flow.
She sighs and asks, "Are you in any pain at the moment?" I shake my head to say no.
"Have you eaten anything today?"
"She had breakfast," Severus cuts in with a wave of his hand to the still nearly full tray.
Madam Pomfrey looks presses her lips like she wants to argue, but instead asks, "Do you have any other symptoms? Headache? Tenderness?"
"My wife is tired," he answers again in an even louder voice. He sounds like he is losing his patience, but his face remains masked as he says, "I believe it would be best if she come back home. You have my word that I will send a Patronus if her condition worsens."
She looks from Severus to me and back again with a doubtful look, but then shrugs. "Very well then. She will be excused from classes for the next week, but I want to see her back before she resumes for a final check up. Understood?" We nod our heads and I start to slide off the bed. "Severus, why don't you two take the Floo in my office?"
"Thank you, Poppy," he says with a hint of sincerity. He pulls off his outer teaching robe and drapes is around my shoulders before leading me out of the curtained room and into Madam Pomfrey's office.
Ginevra goes through first and I follow. For a moment, she just stands in the living area, looking lost and forlorn. Gently, I place a hand on her back and push her towards the hallway.
The hallway seems unnaturally long as her slippered feet pad along softly. Her head is bowed and I can see her tears have briefly stopped. I know she is fighting them back.
We reach her door and she pushes through, trying to slip in, but I push it open and walk her the rest of the way to the bed. Instead of fighting me, she lets me take my robe back and pull the blanket back for her. It is like watching a ghost move as she slides between the sheets and lays down. I whisper a warming spell and pull the thicker blanket up to her chin. Reaching in my pocket, I pull three vials out and set them on the nightstand.
"Painkiller, vitamins, fluid replenishment," I point to each respectively. Her blank stare doesn't waver from the spot past me on the wall, so I say, "Sleep well." I turn to leave, but her hand reaches out and grabs my wrist.
She doesn't say anything, but I can see there is something on her mind. I know she wants to say something, but her jaw is locked in silence. Instead, I summon a chair from the corner of her room and settle in.
"Why don't I stay until you fall asleep?" I suggest. There is the smallest hint of a nod as her eyes close and I let her hold my hand like a child would a stuffed animal.
I stay until she falls asleep yet again.
I know I should get up, but I can't. It has been hours since I got home and I've done nothing but sleep. However, my body just doesn't feel like moving.
My head hurts. My eyes hurt. My heart hurts.
I just want to crawl into a hole and never wake up again.
And it makes no sense. I didn't want to be pregnant. I should be happy that it's over.
But instead, I feel guilty. It is my fault this happened. I should have eaten properly. I shouldn't have gone to Quidditch practice. There is so much I did wrong.
And then there is Severus.
He hasn't said anything about it.
In fact, he hasn't said much. He wasn't around when I woke up, but he left some lunch next to my bed.
I didn't eat.
Later, I could hear him sigh when he saw the food untouched, but he didn't comment on it. He checked my temperature while I pretended to be asleep. After he left, I just stayed where I was. I could hear him checking on me every so often, but I just pretended to sleep still. I thought at some point he would try to force me out of bed or something, but even when he brought me dinner, he didn't say anything.
He seems to be indifferent when he speaks though. He'll tell me there is food or that I have to take a potion prescribed by Madam Pomfrey, but there is no tone behind his voice. It is civil, straight, and not what I expected. I can't tell if he is holding back his anger or disappointment or what. It is like he is waiting until the right moment to finally yell at me.
And I wish he would go ahead and do it. Just get it over with. Yell at me, mock me, tell me how childish I'm being or that I deserve what happened. Anything.
Maybe then I'll be able to feel something.
I just want to feel again.
Minerva looks surprised as she opens the door. "Severus?"
"Up for a game of chess?"
She simply nods and steps aside. Drinks appear before I finish taking my seat. It is almost like she was expecting me because the game is already set up.
"Poppy said she released her this morning," she says quietly. "How is she feeling?"
I shrug. "She slept most of the day. Except for the times I practically forced her to take a bite or two to eat, she didn't say much." Before Minerva can reprimand me, I add, "Yes, I am keeping a close eye on her."
"I was going to say that maybe you should take the week off as well," she says.
"But it's the first week-"
"And nothing that you can't miss," she cuts me off. "I may not be a Potions Master, but I can teach for a week."
"It's not that simple," I reply. "She doesn't want to talk. And even if she did, wouldn't it be better for her to speak to someone like you or Molly."
"At some point, yes," she admits, "but at the moment, she needs you. It was your child too."
"It wasn't," I confess. "It was Potter's."
As stoic as Minerva is, she fails to hide her gasp. "Are you sure?"
"Poppy confirmed it."
"Oh, Severus. I'm so-"
"Don't," I stop her, "please, just don't. Save your sympathy for her. I don't deserve it."
"Because you are glad this happened?"
"Minerva," I warn, but she waves her hand and explains.
"No, I don't mean that you are glad she suffered. I mean you are relieved that she isn't going to have his child. I know you are not cold hearted enough to wish something like this on your own wife, but I can imagine it does make things easier. Am I right?"
I hate to admit it, but I nod. She sighs heavily as I say, "Go ahead. Say it."
Instead of berating me, she just gives me a small smile. "It doesn't make you a bad person."
"Actually, it does."
"No, it makes you human," she points out. "Your relationship has been an uphill battle since day one. However, you are learning. She is learning. Both of you are trying the best you can."
"My best is not good enough," I snap. "She is miserable right now and I don't know how to help her. I don't know what to say or do. This isn't something I understand."
As if the thought suddenly strikes her, she asks, "She didn't know it wasn't yours, did she?" I nod my head to confirm. She sighs. "Well, at least you are trying to understand. I can't say that you would have done that much six months ago."
"A lot has happened in six months," I say, as if that is a good explanation. Then add under my breath, "What I wouldn't give for a time-turner."
"You and me both," Minerva replies dryly. "But since we don't have one, I guess you'll just have to find another solution." We sit a moment in silence, mulling over our chess moves back and forth. "Perhaps you should call her mother? Molly knows what it's like to lose a child."
"Molly is still grieving over her son," I reply. "Do you really think it is wise to bring one broken woman to fix another?"
"I can see what you mean," she nods. "Then I suggest giving your wife time to grieve in private and patiently wait for her to open up to you. If you can't get her to open up or are still worried, then maybe you should have the former Miss Granger visit when she returns from London in a couple of days."
I think it over. Minerva makes a good point. Ginevra has barely been back twelve hours, so what can I really expect? Me spending the night with her probably kept her from grieving properly. I would not want to show weakness to her, so why would she feel like she can be vulnerable around me? I am trying to make things better, but I can't erase the past so easily.
"That seems to be the only option I have," I concede.
"I know," she says. "And I'm sorry for that. But she'll get past this. You both will. You just need to be patient."
"A virtue I have never struggled with until six months ago," I mutter.
Minerva has some remark on the tip of her tongue, but she says nothing. Instead, she smiles wryly and captures my first piece.
The first in a long night of chess.