This chapter is kinda short and non-eventful, but I thought you'd like an early update—I also wanted to satisfy the person who threatened to kill me if I didn't update lol. Once again, thanks for your reviews guys; your advice and big reviews inflate my ego, and it always makes me giggle and feel like god when people make guesses about the plot, so keep it up!
Disclaimer: I wish.
Kira
I was perched on the bed with my back against the headboard and Fred's head in my lap. We'd been in my room for the past hour flipping through the baby name books that Order members had sent me.
"Chance?"
"No."
"Chance is a boy's and a girl's name, so you'd be covered if the kid ended up being a boy."
"I'm not going to name my child Chance, Fred. It sounds like some kind of cliché sentiment and it would get old very fast."
"O-kay, then what do you think of the name Josie?"
"I think it sounds like a prostitute name."
"So, if it were Jocelyn instead...?"
"She'd be nicknamed Josie, and therefore sound like a trollop."
Fred set his book down and his forehead wrinkled as he looked up at me. "What's the point if you're just going to shoot down all of my suggestions?"
"You tell me," I replied evenly. "You're the one who volunteered me to do this."
He smirked and wordlessly lifted his book back up to his nose. "Frederick?" he suggested. "I hear that's a good name."
I snorted. "You'd like it if I named my baby girl after you, wouldn't you?"
"Yes. Though I suppose if she were a girl you'd have to call her Fredericka."
"No."
"Suit yourself," he sniggered.
There was a moment of silence as we continued looking through the books.
"What about Engelbert?" Fred finally asked, as if he were speaking to me about the weather. "That's pretty neutral."
"Engelbert, is just about as good as Archibald," I replied dryly. I was suddenly reminded of the prank I'd played on Snape, which made me feel surprisingly glum. It had been a week since I'd opened the letter from him, and the week had passed without much incident.
When his mother wasn't berating him and glaring at me, Fred was glued to my side. He stayed attached to me like an extra pair of arms and legs all week. The day in which Fred would have to go back to Hogwarts had been nearing; though it was unspoken, our parting was an event that loomed over us dauntingly like an elephant in the room.
Throughout the week, the child in my stomach was restless, moving constantly during the day and often waking me up during the night. It wasn't natural for there to be so much movement; it was almost as if the child never went to sleep. In addition, the heat-flashes and cravings grew worse. Though I didn't really like candy, I found myself nibbling on the chocolate that Tonks had sent me; it helped, but it didn't make the abnormal non-stop kicking any better. There was no bleeding either, which surprised me—though I wasn't holding my breath.
Mrs. Weasley treated me very much the same as she had before—she had apparently taken much offense to my giving the sweater back, so she knitted me a new one overnight and gave it to me the next morning. The letter in the center was a 'K', but she'd changed the colors from black and white to green and silver, as if to put extra emphasis on my lineage. Instead of giving it back to her, I stuffed it at the bottom of the bag I'd been keeping my clothes in.
As it turned out, the 'hair incident' had the opposite effect from what Fred had intended and only fed the flame between Sirius and I. He went out of his way to affront me, and he was very good at lacing his insults with salt so that they'd bother me enough to throw it back in his face. He was always around and became increasingly irksome, like a bug that I could quite shake off.
George, on the other hand, avoided me like the plague. I'd enter the room and he'd either ignore me or get up and walk out of the room. It bothered me, but I was grateful that he didn't resort to Sirius' methods of venting.
The other four—Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny—kept to themselves. Harry was friendlier to me than he had been before, and I didn't have much in common with Ron though I found that both Hermione and I had an affection for books, but the three of us didn't converse unless we were cleaning together.
I never once exchanged words with Fred's little sister, Ginny. She was quiet, that was for sure, but she was no dummy and each time we were in the same room I'd catch her staring at me with a calculating shrewdness. I didn't know what to make of her, though I knew exactly who she was and what had happened to her during her first year at Hogwarts. It was hard not to feel something kindred toward her, and even harder to remind myself that herafflictions weren't with Voldemort, they were with Tom Riddle, and her experience with him had been substantially better than mine.
Out of fear of dismissal as well as just plain awkwardness, I tried my best not to acknowledge what Ginny and I had vaguely in common.
"Hey," Fred said, interrupting my thoughts. "I have it. The perfect name."
I looked down at him cautiously. "What is it?"
He looked at me very seriously.
"Toby."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why are you so set on giving this thing a boy's name?"
"Well you certainly don't care whether or not you have backup, so I thought I'd just adopt that task. It's just in case, Kira."
I opened my mouth to speak and was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley, calling out to her children to come downstairs. Apparently Mr. Weasley had come home.
"I'll stay here," I said quietly.
Fred gave me a coy smile. "I doubt that Dad will be as hard on you as mum."
"All the same," I replied. "I'll just wait in my room."
Fred kissed me with his smirking lips before leaving the room.
I tossed the baby book in my hand off the bed and slid onto the mattress, laying on my back as I stared up at the ceiling and wondering what the hell I was going to do when Fred left. By staying in Dumbledore's office and agreeing to flip sides, I'd thought it meant I was getting the ball rolling on my life. I hadn't known that by getting out of the Death Eater circle I would end up bringing my life to a multiple-year-long standstill.
I was so engrossed with my thoughts about my current situation, that I jumped violently when I became aware of the scratching noises coming from my right. I sat up quickly, my mouth parted in surprise as I realized the sound was coming from the chestnut wardrobe, which stood against the wall adjacent to my bed.
I hadn't used the wardrobe at all, and I'd barely noticed it was even there, like an unimportant piece of decorum. As the scratching on the door continued I got to my feet, listening for someone in the hall, but everyone must have been downstairs.
Perhaps it was nothing big, I reasoned, and I could just take care of it myself without needing help from someone who was armed with a wand.
I inched toward the wardrobe, eyeing the engravings on the two doors. It showed four pictures—two on each door—of trees representing the four seasons. On the top half of one door, I saw one tree enveloped in flowers, the bottom half showed a naked tree with snow coming down around it. The other door was similar, only it showed etchings of Autumn and Summer.
My fingers laced around the crystal doorknob next to Spring. I took a deep breath then cracked the Spring and Winter door open slowly.
My heart began to flutter relentlessly when a set of pale bony fingers with long sharp nails poked out of the narrow opening and curved around the door, pushing it open further. The face of my demon eased out of the darkness slowly and silently; my hands began to tremble and a sick feeling rose in my gut.
"It has been too long..." his dreadful voice rasped coolly, his face twisted in cruel amusement. "...Kira Ludosci Malfoy."
I shook my head and he mimicked the movement. "No," I breathed.
"No?" he echoed, and then he gave hoarse laugh.
"You can't be here!" I cried. "You're...you're a boggart, you have to be!"
He raised an invisible eyebrow. "Am I?"
I took a step backward and he followed me, his bare bony feet stepping lightly on the carpet.
"I am inside you, Kira Malfoy," he hissed. "And when the time comes I will overtake you."
Without waiting for the boggart to make a move, I sprinted across the room and hurled myself through the open doorway, then fled into the hallway. My heart pounded in my eardrums as I flew down the two sets of stairs without looking back.
Find Fred! Find Fred! my mind screamed savagely at me.
I skirted around the corner of the entry hall and came to a sudden stop as my face slammed into someone's chest. I looked up and saw, to my horror, that it was a slightly disheveled Severus Snape.
I peeled myself off his chest, my cheeks burning under his disapproving gaze.
"Miss Malfoy," he greeted me indifferently.
"S-Sorry," I stammered, looking over my shoulder to see that the boggart hadn't followed me; or perhaps it had seen Snape and made a rebounding getaway.
He looked me up and down sordidly then asked in a smooth voice, "Is everything alright?"
I whipped my bangs out of my face and straightened up with an indifferent face, embarrassed to have Snape see me so disorderly. "I am perfectly fine. Just had a run-in with a boggart and didn't have a wand to take care of it."
For another moment he watched me with hard eyes, as if determining whether or not the truthfulness of my story was written on my face, and then he seemed to decide he didn't even care as he lifted his chin and pursed his lips.
"Er, while you're here," I stated, "I have a question of slight importance for you."
"And what is it?"
"Did you happen to, ah, send me a flower by mail?"
His eyes flickered. "You're talking about the Amaranthus?"
"So you did send it."
"I sent it through a mutual acquaintance of ours who, at the moment, is not in possession of an owl."
"And who is said acquaintance?"
He raised an eyebrow. "They asked to remain anonymous."
I swallowed. "Is it...Draco?" Draco's name came out as barely a whisper.
Snape didn't reply, but from the way he was looking at me I knew what the answer was. My face twisted in surprise, though I knew I shouldn't have been surprised.
"The...anonymous sender told me that you'd understand the significance of the flower."
"Did he tell you what it symbolizes?"
"I am a Potions Master," he said coolly. "Of course I know about the Amaranthus Love-Lies-Bleeding flower."
I bit my lower lip.
Snape's eyes quickly darted around, as if surveying the hallway for eavesdroppers, then he reached into his cloak and pulled a small black velvet bag into view. "Plant seeds," he explained as he pushed the full palm-sized bag into my hand then pulled away as if I'd burned him.
I was grateful for the distraction as I peered inside; there were smaller bags inside so I assumed he was giving me more than one kind of seed. "Is this a…gift?"
"Certainly not," he scoffed. "The seeds I've given you provide the ingredients for a potent vitamin potion."
I wrinkled my nose at the recollection of the potions that Madam Pomfrey had been providing me.
"There are enough seeds in there to last you years without any need for my services."
"Ah," I mused. "So it's your way of being rid of me."
"I'm sure you'll find another useful soul to suck the life from soon enough," he replied crisply. "Mr. Weasley would be an excellent candidate."
I frowned, feeling highly insulted. "I promise that you weren't my first choice for help; in fact, I remember rejecting your help at first. But next time I'm in need, I assure you I'll keep in mind not to ask my old Professor for aid because he thinks I'm a life-sucking leech."
His lip curled as he sneered at me. "I am…assured."
"Is there any particular reason why you're here?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable with the way his fathomless black eyes surveyed me. "Or were you just here to give me your un-gift."
"There is a reason, but I cannot fathom a rationale as to why its any of your business."
I blinked.
"Ah, and as for the other matter which we discussed the last time we talked. I spoke with Madam Pomfrey, and she admitted to me that she told Professor Umbridge about your condition. Now, why the woman hasn't gone public with the information, I do not know."
"Perhaps she knows who the father is. Going public with that kind of information would mean admitting that He's back."
"I don't see how she could possibly know that, unless she was in direct contact with someone else who was aware of your situation. But in any case, she could reveal to the public that you were pregnant without any mention of the father."
I sighed. "Well, even if she did it wouldn't matter because I'm now in hiding."
I heard a door opening down the hall, then sounds of ecstatic celebration suddenly traveled towards us from the kitchen behind Snape, where the Weasley family was celebrating Mr. Weasley's return from St. Mungos. I peered around Snape and noticed Harry and Sirius making their way down the hallway. They came to a halt when they noticed me.
Seeming to sense hostile vibes behind him, Snape stiffened, looking down at me uneasily and, to my surprise, held out his hand.
"The next time we meet may be under different circumstances, but I hope we can part on less hostile terms for now."
I raised an eyebrow. "How can you be sure I won't just suck the life out of you?"
He scowled. "I hardly think a handshake has that potential."
I hesitantly shook his pale hand, which was unexpectedly warm, and was startled when he suddenly pulled away and stepped around me, striding down the hallway speedily.
Sirius turned and left the room with a sour face, but Harry grinned dismally and lumbered over to me. "I guess I'm starting an extra period of private lessons with Snape," he said. "Remedial potions."
There was something scathing about the way he said 'Remedial potions.'
"Is 'remedial potions' supposed to be code for something else?"
"Occlumency. Er, but don't mention it to anyone else."
My entire focus was suddenly fixed on the raven-haired boy in front of me. "Snape does Occlumency?"
"Oh, you know what it is then?"
I stared at him for a long moment, not really seeing him, and then snapped out of the trance.
"Perhaps I can explain it to you later," I replied absently, and then said in a more focused tone, "Did you know that there was a boggart in my bedroom upstairs?"
"Another one?"
"Does that room have a history with boggarts?"
"Well, there was one in the drawing room on the second floor before the school year got started," he explained. "But, er, Lupin took care of it."
I grit my teeth and began moving past Harry. "Then I have a bone to pick with Sirius."
The rest of the day passed by too quickly, but I was grateful when night came. I was laying on my side in the middle of my bed in my dark room, uncomfortably trying not to think about Draco when I heard someone apparate into my room behind me. I didn't need to turn to know it was Fred. The matress shifted slightly as he climbed onto the bed and curled his arms around me, pulling me to his chest. I felt him massage his lips against the back of my neck sweetly.
"Can't you stay?" I whispered.
"You know I can't."
I'd half expected him to comeback with some tricksy or sarcastic comment, so to hear him say the truth outloud so seriously made my chest constrict. My fingers curled around one of his hands and I brought it to my mouth and kissed his knuckles before resting my cheek against his palm.
"It won't be long," he promised softly. "Two months tops."
"I barely made it two weeks without you, now I'm supposed to wait two months?"
Fred sighed deeply after a long drawn out moment. "That's how it's gotta be." He kissed the back of my neck again. "But if I'll write to you everyday. And if anything happens, Kira, I promise to drop everything I'm doing to come straight here."
"Even if you're in detention with Umbridge?"
"Especially if I'm in detention with Umbridge. You just say the word."
I turned in his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck, then eased my knees forward and hooked his legs in mine so that our bodies were completely entwined. He pressed his forehead against mine and stroked my back with his fingertips; it was a simple gesture, but it brought me a warm sense of comfort.
Fred was the first to fall asleep, and as the night grew ripe his body relaxed and slowly untangled itself from mine. I lie awake in the darkness, stroking his bare arm with my fingertips as I fought not to give in to sleep, trying to make the last few hours of his company as drawn out as possible. It was inevitable when my eyes finally shut stubbornly and refused to re-open.
