Chapter 4
Stephen kicked off his shoes at the door and turned on the bedroom lamps and threw off his heavy cloak as he crossed the room. He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands, thinking. The past week had been incredibly difficult for him, watching Victoria grieve.
Although he didn't know Juliana Black very well, he knew that she meant the world to Victoria. And he understood why. For the first time, she had a real friend, someone who really cared about her. Now, that was all gone, and she was left without anyone to confide in or support her through her pregnancy.
She certainly doesn't want my help, he thought sadly, leaning back on the bed. She made that perfectly clear at the funeral this morning.
Depressed, he stood up and walked over to a mound of clothes on the floor to find something to wear other than uncomfortable dress robes. He unconsciously looked out of his window, and saw a figure walking around the garden in the backyard. Victoria, he realized, his heart aching in his chest.
He watched her for a minute, and then kicked at his clothes to see if anything in the pile could be remotely considered clean. When he looked up, she was gone. As he turned around to inspect another clothes mound, something caught his eye. He squinted his eyes, realizing that the dark green heap on the ground was Victoria. Panicked, he Apparated at her side and rolled her over. She was out cold.
"Victoria?"
He put his hand on her face. She was burning up, and tiny beads of sweat were beginning to appear on her forehead. Without hesitation, Stephen gathered her in his arms and carried her inside his house, gently laying her on the living room sofa.
"I'll be right back," he told her, just in case she was partially conscious. As fast as he feet could carry him, he ran next-door and pounded on the front door like a man possessed, completely forgetting he could Apparate inside if he wished.
"Yes?" a matronly-looking woman asked in broken English. Stephen racked his brain for the little bit of Spanish that he knew.
"Si. Senora Piedra, por favor. (Yes. Mrs. Piedra, please.)"
He hoped that made at least a little bit of sense, and breathed a sigh of relief when the woman nodded and disappeared down the hallway. A formidable-looking woman walked down the hallway, and raised an eyebrow at the disheveled young man in front of her.
"Can I help you?" she asked with a heavy accent, shifting the baby to her left arm so that she could shake his hand.
"Is that your grandson?" he inquired, absent-mindedly shaking her hand. As an only child, Stephen didn't have much contact with babies, and marveled at how small he was.
"Yes, this is Sirius. And you are?"
"Stephen Potter. I live next door. I'm sorry to bother you at a time like this, but I really need a doctor fast for Victoria," he said in a rush. "And you were the first person I thought of, Doctor Piedra."
She smiled soothingly, despite her own sorrow. "Mariana's fine. Let me put Sirius down for a nap, and I'll be back down in a minute."
He nodded nervously, grateful that she was willing to help him. It seemed like an eternity before she reappeared, pulling on a cloak with one hand, and carrying a large doctor's bag in the other. There was something about her calm, professional demeanor that calmed Stephen as they walked the short distance between the two houses.
"What happened?" the doctor asked, kneeling beside Victoria and checking her vital signs.
"I'm not sure. I saw her walking around the garden one-minute, and the next she was passed out on the ground," Stephen replied, agitated. "Are she and the baby going to be all right?"
"A baby, huh? Well, that certainly changes things a bit," Mariana said calmly, masking her surprise well. She'd bet anything that this polite young man was the child's father, so she gave him a reassuring look. "I'm going to need somewhere private to examine her. Do you have a guest bedroom set up?"
"No, but if you'll give me a minute, I'll clean up my room."
He rushed up the stairs, hastily straightened up the room, and ran back to the living room. Instead of levitating her, he decided to carry Victoria up the stairs. Mariana began to say that levitation was better for her in case the fall bruised or broke anything, but Stephen was so upset that she held her tongue. It wasn't a very tall staircase anyway, she rationalized.
When he put Victoria down on his bed, she stirred slightly. She opened her eyes and looked around, puzzled.
"Where am I?" she croaked out through dry lips.
"You're in my bedroom," Stephen answered, grateful that she was conscious. "You passed out in the garden, and I brought you here."
"You were spying on me?" She managed a surprising amount of indignation for someone barely speaking in a whisper.
"It's a good thing, too," Dr. Piedra interrupted, sitting down beside Victoria and putting her doctor's bag at her feet. "So, I hear you're going to give my grandson a playmate."
"Two." Victoria watched Stephen's eyes nearly bug out of his head.
"Wh-what? You're having twins?" he asked.
"It's not your concern," she hissed, shooting him a withering stare.
"Yes, both you and my children are my concern," he shot back, frustrated at her for continually shutting him out of her life.
"One night, Stephen. That doesn't make me your concern. As for our children, I told you that I'd take care of them myself. We don't need you," Victoria spat. He quickly turned away from her, trying to hide how much her words hurt him.
"Well," the doctor said, acting as if the argument never occurred, "I'd like to examine you, Victoria. So, can you step outside for a minute, Stephen?"
"Sure." His shoulders slumped as he left the room, closing the door behind him.
"Just so you know, I-I'm not the type of girl who goes around having one night stands." The last thing she wanted was to have Juliana's mother think poorly of her. "It just sort of happened."
"Lots of children happen, my dear," she replied reassuringly, squeezing Victoria's hand gently. The younger woman burst into tears.
"I'm scared," she admitted. "I'm scared of what my parents will say or do. And, then there's Stephen. Sure, he's acting supportive now, but what about next month? Or, when I start showing and people start whispering? Will he stick around then?"
Mariana embraced her in a motherly hug, something Victoria had never really experienced. "Shhh. Even if your parents disown you, and Stephen doesn't claim the children, things will turn out all right. You're a young one, but plenty healthy. And you have a strong will to survive, which is the most important thing of all."
"A will to survive didn't save Juliana," she sobbed against the doctor's shoulder, who laughed softly.
"That girl had too much of her father in her. Didn't see the danger of anything, and didn't listen to reason. And just like her father, she ran headlong into an early grave. But, they both lived their lives without regrets, so who are we to judge? Perhaps she knew that her time was limited, and that baby is her way of living on after her body gave out. In any case, you're not doomed to her fate, Victoria. Women have babies every day without any trouble, and there's no reason why you shouldn't be one of them."
"Really?" Victoria asked hopefully.
"Really. However, you should see a doctor right away. If you want, I'll owl your regular doctor, or I could examine you myself. Whatever you want," Mariana said kindly.
"I'd rather have you do it, if you don't mind," she answered quietly.
Dr. Piedra smiled at the nervous look on the young woman's face, and asked a few general questions at first to put her at ease. While she was a noted pediatrician in the medical community, she also practiced obstetrics when needed. And, as a doctor to poor patients in rural Spain, an obstetrician was often needed.
An incredibly weary Victoria greatly appreciated the doctor's warm bedside manner, something quite lacking in the doctors at St. Mungo's. When Mariana finished her examination, she took out her prescription pad and wrote out instructions for several potions. She also gave Victoria a long talk on how to regain and maintain her strength.
"Do you have any questions?" Mariana asked sincerely.
"No, thank you. I've learned more from you in fifteen minutes than from any of the books I've read," she admitted, smiling shyly.
"Years of experience." She winked and stood up. "Would you like for me to talk to Stephen for you?"
"Yes, please," she said gratefully, wanting to limit her contact with him to a minimum.
She sincerely hoped that all would go well for Victoria. The poor girl looked scared to death, although she hid it well. As for Stephen, he looked equally petrified when Mariana walked outside.
"How's Victoria? Is she all right? What about the babies?" he asked in a rush, with eyes begging for her to tell him that everything would be fine.
"The twins – and she is expecting twins – are developing normally." Mariana paused for a minute while Stephen breathed a sigh of relief. "However, Victoria is quite ill. She hasn't been eating or sleeping properly since learning that she was pregnant."
"It's my fault. If I had chased after her that day instead of letting her go…" He hung his head ashamedly as his voice trailed off.
"You care for her, don't you?"
"No. I don't just care for her. I love her more than anything, and have ever since I can remember." Stephen didn't know why he was pouring out his heart to a virtual stranger, but once he started, he just couldn't stop. "Victoria keeps talking about 'one night'. It wasn't some random thing to me. I want to take care of her and the children, if only she'd let me."
"Well, she's going to need someone to look after her. I've prescribed at least a week of bed rest. She shouldn't do anything but eat and sleep," Mariana said carefully, seeing if he'd take the bait. The couple obviously desperately loved each other, but could certainly benefit from a little meddling and matchmaking. And, some quality time with each other, for that matter.
"What about her art? I've never seen Victoria without paint in her hair and a sketchpad, except for when she's at her parents' house."
His worried expression amused the doctor. "Yes, she's already asked about that. And she's allowed to draw, but not do anything else."
"Did she say she was going to her parents' house? She probably won't want to go there," Stephen said to himself. "I have plenty of space here, and I could get anything that she wanted or needed. That is, if Victoria agreed to it. I think she'd rather sleep on a park bench than depend on me for anything, though."
"I don't think she'd be objecting to much right now," Mariana winked, checking a pocket watch.
"What do you mean?" His eyes widened.
"I slipped a sleeping potion into her water. She'll probably be out for a few hours. After that, she'll be very groggy for a couple of days. You might want to hire a nurse to look after her."
"No, I'll take off work. I couldn't work knowing that she's here sick, anyway. You don't know how much I appreciate you coming here and all. I know it's not a good time for your family, and I'm really sorry about your daughter," Stephen said sincerely.
"Thank you. Just take care your own little family, and we'll call it even," she said lightly, putting on her cloak. "Owl me if Victoria starts running a fever, or if she's in a great deal of pain."
"I'll do that."
He walked the doctor downstairs and let her out of the front door. Before going upstairs to check on Victoria, he wrote a quick note to work, saying that he would be out of the office for a week or so. He didn't give details, in case Mr. Gates received the owl. Hoping that no one would come by asking questions, he tied the parchment to his owl and sent her off to the bank.
Grabbing the sports section out of the Daily Prophet, Stephen headed back to his room. Sure enough, Victoria was sound asleep. He couldn't help admiring how beautiful and peaceful she looked.
"I do love you," he whispered, sitting down beside her.
He softly kissed the top of her head, which reminded him to check her for a fever. Luckily, he remembered the temperature-taking charm, and was relieved that she wasn't fevered. So, he conjured up a chair from downstairs and read the latest Quiddich news until she stirred.
"Wh-where am I?" she asked with a dry mouth. "And why is the room spinning?"
"You're still at my house. Close your eyes for a minute and the spinning should stop," he replied, putting down the paper and crossing the room.
Victoria looked at him with weary, sickly eyes. "Go away, Potter."
"Considering that this is my house, and you're laying in my bed, that's a pretty rich thing to say." He was relieved that she felt well enough to insult him, even if she did have a tendency to hurt his feelings. "Are you hungry?"
"Huh?" She was confused. Was he actually being nice to her?
"Are you hungry?" he repeated. "There's this Chinese place down the street that makes great Wanton soup."
"How did you know that's my favorite soup?" she wondered, impressed.
"Lucky guess. Anyway, I'll be back in a few." Stephen disapparated with a small pop and reappeared a few minutes later carrying a large paper bag. He took out a large container of soup, passing it to Victoria along with a spoon.
"Thanks," she said somewhat grudgingly, beginning to laugh. "What are you doing?!?"
"Eating," he replied, as if this was completely obvious.
"You're eating Chinese food with a fork?"
"Uh, yeah."
Victoria gave him an incredulous look. "You're supposed to eat Chinese food with chopsticks."
"I can't use chopsticks," he admitted.
"Here, let me teach you." She conjured up two pairs of chopsticks, and showed him how to hold them properly. "See, like this."
She giggled watching him chase broccoli around the plate, trying to pick up a stalk. Stephen would've given up on the chopsticks and went back to his fork, except that Victoria was actually paying him attention. After watching him for a minute, she began giving him pointers on the fine art of chopsticks. He actually began to get the hang of it, but pretended like he wasn't.
"How'd you learn how to do this so well, anyway?" he wondered.
"I had a Chinese nanny for a while when I was little. She ate everything with chopsticks," Victoria explained, deftly picking up a piece of beef. She held out the food and grinned. "Here."
"Help yourself," he said, a little confused.
"No, this is for you. Are you going to eat it or stare at it?"
"Eat it, I guess." He hesitatingly leaned forward and ate the food off her chopsticks. "Thanks."
"Anytime." She picked up a bamboo shoot and playfully flung it on his forehead.
"Hey, that's not fair," he protested with a smile, wiping off his face. Sick or not, Victoria declared war. So, he took a handful of sticky rice and plopped it on her hair.
"Ewwwww! You asked for it, Potter," she screeched, dumping the remainder of her lukewarm soup in his lap.
A full-blown food fight quickly broke out. Stephen tried to be easy on her, but she kept attacking him. So, he had no choice but to retaliate. It was a matter of honor, after all. Somehow, a hysterically laughing Victoria ended up in his arms, her face only inches from his.
Their eyes met, and the room fell deathly silent as they stared at each other, wondering what the other was thinking. On a crazy impulse, she kissed him. Which turned into snogging until Victoria suddenly realized that the last time something like this happened, she ended up pregnant. And that no matter how wonderful he seemed, she didn't fully trust him.
"I-I think that we had better clean up," she whispered, pulling away from him. "We're really good at making messes, aren't we?"
He smiled ironically at her double meaning. "Yeah, I guess we are."
~~~~~
Victoria hummed to herself as she walked down the back staircase to the kitchen. She cheerfully searched the cabinets for something to cook for tea. Because her mother considered cooking servants' work, she naturally spent all of her spare time in the kitchens. Stephen walked into the room and leaned against the doorframe.
"What are you doing, trying to poison me?" he asked jokingly. She turned around in a huff with her hands on her hips.
"I will have you know that I am an excellent cook, thank you very much. And who said that I was cooking for you in the first place?"
"Fair enough. Aren't you supposed to be on bed rest?"
Her eyes narrowed at him. "But, I'm so bored. And hungry. Stephen, the way your cabinets are arranged make no sense. Where do you keep your flour?"
"I don't own any flour. Victoria, less than twenty-four hours ago you were barely conscious. I leave you for a half hour to get your things from next door, and you're already disobeying doctor's orders."
"Just because I agreed to stay here for a few days doesn't give you the right to start bossing me around," she reminded him, waving a spatula in his face. "I'm suddenly craving pot roast. And German chocolate cake."
"Your wish is my command. I'll have whatever you want delivered. Come on, can't you go back to bed? I put all of your stuff in the bedroom you picked out," he said, knowing that the prospect of unpacking her art supplies would lure her back upstairs. She stood for a minute, considering his request.
"Fine. Only because this is my favorite time of day to draw. Call me when the food's here?"
"Sure."
He watched her turn and go back up the staircase, unaffected by her abrasive attitude. It didn't even really bother him that she insisted on staying in the bedroom furthest from his because she was in the house. Which was a major victory in and of itself.
As he tied the food order to his owl's leg, the doorbell rang. His stomach hit the ground when he opened the door. Standing on the front porch in crisp business robes was the last man on earth he wanted to see – Victoria's father.
"Good afternoon, Stephen," he said evenly.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Gates," he responded in what he hoped was a normal tone of voice. "Can I help you?"
"Well, I was on my way next door to pay my condolences. I received your owl this morning. Is everything all right with you? Because I saw your father earlier today and he didn't know what was going on."
"Everything's fine. Just taking some vacation time." He shrugged.
"Stephen James Potter, you promised me that you'd let me know when the food came! I know heard the doorbell ring. Never come between a pregnant woman and her food," a voice bellowed from upstairs, followed by a rapid cadence of footsteps.
"Is that--" Mr. Gates began, giving Stephen a cold stare. Before he could answer, Victoria appeared in the foyer, still in her pajamas. She froze in her tracks, paralyzed.
"Daddy."
"Victoria, humor an old man who doesn't hear so well sometimes," he said, not taking his eyes off his daughter. "Did you just say that you were pregnant?"
"Yes, sir." She raised her chin defiantly, but Stephen could see her knees shaking.
"I see. May I come in?" It was a statement, not a question. Mr. Gates stormed inside. His massive height and stature towered over petite Victoria. "Let's sit down and have a talk."
Stephen greatly resented him inviting himself into his house and ordering Victoria around like she was his property. No wonder she has such a rebellious nature, he thought. But, he was her father and his boss, so he checked his temper for the time being.
"Does this child have a father?" Mr. Gates roared.
"Obviously," his daughter spat. "Children, Daddy. I'm having twins, which should make you and Mum overjoyed. An heir and a spare."
"Name the father."
"Sir,--" Stephen began, but was quickly overpowered by Victoria.
"No, I won't. The consequences of my choices are mine alone to bear. One night shouldn't impact lives like that, because I know what you'd do. You'd take out your vault keys and try to pay my children's father to marry me. And if that didn't work, you'd just turn me out. I'd much rather be disowned than trapped in a loveless marriage. My children deserve better than that, and so do I."
"Brava. Very noble of you," Mr. Gates seethed. "He's a worthless Muggle, isn't he? You tainted our family by sleeping with some Muggle that wouldn't even want you if he knew what you are. Either that or you've had so many men that you couldn't name a father if you tried. I'm not a stupid man, so don't insult my intelligence. Go get dressed."
"Why?" she asked, even though she knew what he was going to say next.
"Because I'm taking you to St. Mungo's myself to resolve this situation." His tone of voice left no room for argument.
"No. They are children, not a 'situation' to dispose of. I'm not going." She clutched her midsection protectively.
"Yes, you will," he roared. "By wizarding law, I have final say on what happens to your illegitimate children, daughter."
Stephen looked at Mr. Gates in disbelief. He couldn't believe that anyone could be so cruel to Victoria. Or that he would invoke the old, dated wizarding customs that were hardly ever followed anymore. Unfortunately, he was right. Unless—
"She's not going," Stephen said, in an authoritative voice. If Victoria's father wanted to play by the old-fashioned rules, so be it. No one treated her like property, and he vowed to make sure that it never happened again. "By custom, she is bound to my authority, not yours."
"What are you talking about, young man?" Both men stood until they were nearly eye-to-eye.
"Victoria is carrying my children."
"And how are you certain of that?"
"Are you questioning my word?" Stephen's eyes flashed fire as he fought the urge to knock Victoria's father's teeth out.
"No, your word of honor is sufficient." The tension in the room was palpable.
"Good, because I never want paternity to be an issue again. I claim my children, and will legitimate them when they're born. And, I've offered my home and everything I have to Victoria, and to her alone. As you can see," Stephen pointed to her still seated on the sofa in her nightclothes, "she's amenable to this arrangement. By wizarding customs, that makes her my consort."
"Your what?" Victoria interrupted, wondering what on earth he was saying. Whatever it was, she didn't like it. Especially when her father smiled and clasped Stephen's shoulder like a son.
"My common-law wife," Stephen explained in a much softer tone of voice, wincing when her chin quivered a bit.
He didn't like this any more than she did, but it was the only way he could keep her father from bullying her. Hopefully she would realize that he didn't buy into the old paternalistic attitudes about women. It was all an act, and as soon as he could kick Mr. Gates out of his house, he'd explain this to her. Until then, he had to play the part of a classic chauvinist pig. And from the look on Victoria's face, he was doing a better job than even he intended.
Victoria froze to the sofa cushion, sitting as still as her favorite statue in her parents' gardens. The single word wife played over and over in her mind. Neither man noticed the faraway, glazed look in her eyes. That one word was far worse and imprisoning than even the Dementors' Kiss. At least then, she wouldn't realize what a shell of a human being she had become.
Her whole life, she had rebelled and fought against this very moment. It was as if she was in a tiny raft floating down a raging river, with only a broken oar to help her get to shore. But, no matter what she did, she still ended up exactly as her parents wanted her to be. So, without warning, the raft reached the end of the river and plunged her over the falls towards the cold, cruel reality of life as a trophy wife.
Mrs. Stephen Potter. That was her identity now. Victoria wanted to scream, cry, run, all at the same time. However, her pride caused her to sit silently, emotionless. The two men standing in front of her could take her freedom away in a heartbeat, but they wouldn't see her shed a single tear about it. The room began to spin in wild circles that became faster and faster as she fought with every ounce of her being to keep her emotions under control.
She vaguely listened to Stephen excuse her earlier "rudeness" with some lame, sexist reference to pregnancy hormones that her father accepted without question. When asked why they kept things a secret, Stephen said that they decided a formal handfasting ceremony was inappropriate considering that Victoria's best friend had just passed away. So, they chose to quietly go by the common law tradition instead until a sufficient mourning period had passed.
Stephen disgusted himself with how easily he was able to worm his way into Mr. Gates' good graces. To her father, Victoria's marriage was an alliance between families, nothing more. He saw how quickly things changed when he clamed her as his own. As he continued to talk to the older wizard, Stephen suddenly realized what he wanted to do with his life. Change the laws somehow so that this scenario could never repeat itself for future generations.
"At least I know why you took off work, son," Mr. Gates said jovially. "Enjoy your honeymoon, and take as much time as you want. Your job will be waiting for you whenever you want it."
"Thank you, sir," he replied respectfully, although he had no intention of stepping into Gringotts' bank as an employee ever again. Stephen made a mental note to speak to his own father about getting a job at the Ministry.
"You're lucky, Victoria. Not every man would be as honorable as your husband is. Treat him with respect he deserves," her father warned her in a harsh voice.
"I will, Daddy." She smiled sweetly as the life-saving raft that shielded her from a meaningless existence hit the rocks below, and splintered into a thousand pieces, pitching her into the swirling currents. She was drowning, with no sign of rescue.
After a few more minutes of small talk, Mr. Gates excused himself to go next door, much to Stephen's relief. When he returned to the living room, Victoria looked at him with a completely unreadable expression. Her face appeared waxy, lifeless, as if she was a mannequin in a dress shop.
"Victoria?" he spoke her name, beginning to be frightened. She wasn't even blinking, just staring at him unresponsively. "Victoria, I didn't mean anything that I just said."
"I don't believe you," she said in a lilting tone, the one she used when at a dinner party. Stephen ran his fingers through his hair and began pacing.
"I didn't know what else to do. Your father was standing there yelling at you like you were his property. I couldn't take him talking to you that way."
"So, you decided to claim me. My hero," she said flatly. "Where did you come up with that common law stuff, anyway?"
"Clerking for my dad's law firm in the summer. Picked up a thing or two." He shrugged.
"How convenient."
Victoria sat silently for another minute. Then, something snapped deep inside her, and a torrent of emotion poured out. Her hands flew to her face and she screamed as loudly as she could. A painful, mournful terrible wail that made Stephen wonder if she was part banshee.
"You tricked me!" she bellowed. "I trusted you, and you tricked me!"
"No. No, Victoria, I didn't trick you, I swear. Please believe me," he begged, kneeling in front of her. She shoved him as roughly as she could, and then smacked him across the face, leaving a red handprint. Stephen's eyes watered, and the room spun for a minute.
"I should've Seen this coming," she lamented, throwing up her hands in anguish. "After all, I am a Seer. And, I've always Seen that I'm supposed to have two beautiful children that favor me. But, if I had ever Seen anything to indicate that you, Stephen Potter, would be their father, I would've been sterilized!"
Her words sliced him to the core, hurting him far worse than any slap ever could. But, he knew that if their roles were reversed, he'd probably feel the same way. It truly was unfair that she was at his mercy. As he watched Victoria sob despondently, he realized that some man could pull the exact same crap with his daughter one day. Which infuriated him.
"Victoria, I'm sorry that you feel that way," he said evenly, causing her to stop crying mid-sob and blink at him oddly. " Tomorrow morning, I'm going to my father's firm to talk to him about this project I want to do. If I come home and you're not here, I won't make you come back. And, I won't follow you."
"Wh-what?" she sniffled.
"If anyone asks questions, I'll say you went on an extended holiday because of your health. Which wouldn't be an entirely bad idea. You've been through hell and back, and you deserve a nice holiday. And, I lied to you earlier," he continued.
"Oh?"
"I meant what I said about the children. All I really ask of you is that you let me claim and support them."
"Sure." Victoria couldn't believe he was giving her a way out of the prison her life had become. Her outlook brightened at the idea of packing her things and kissing London and her family goodbye to begin a whole new life.
"I'll make arrangements with the bank in the morning." Stephen stood and walked out of the room as quickly as his feet could carry him before she could seem him cry.
~~~~~
Wow! Thanks to my two reviewers:
Cassie – Hope you enjoyed so far! :-D
DryRain – Thanks! Yeah, I hope to post more on Evil soon, too. Just a matter of finding the time to write, lol!
As usual, thanks for reading, & please review? Pretty please? *grins*