Alison reappeared in a dingy looking living room. The moth eaten curtains barely kept out the light and the floor was covered in dust. The plaster on the walls was yellowed and peeling.
'Dad???' she called, 'Dad…are you here?'
Sirius came hurrying out of a door in the corner and stopped short when he saw Alison. He noticed immediately that her eyes were red and puffy. He led her into the kitchen, a much cleaner place, and sat her down on one of the stools near the counter.
'What happened, Alison? Why are you here? Why aren't you in Puddlemere?' he asked softy.
'Oliver and I, we had a huge fight…and I left. And I wish I hadn't, but I did…oh, daddy! What am I to do?' sobbed Alison.
'What was the fight about?'
'I…I don't want to talk about it…' replied Alison, before dissolving into tears once again. Sirius didn't pressure her to talk, he knew that she would tell her everything in time. He just wrapped his arms tightly around her and drew her close. Her tears soaked his shirt, but he didn't notice. He was too busy consoling Alison and promising her that things would go back to normal soon as they always did when two people loved each other as much as Oliver and Alison did.
*****
Oliver couldn't bear to sit around the house all day. He ought
to be out, celebrating the victory, instead of moping around waiting for Alison
to walk back through the door so that he could kiss her and tell her how sorry
he was. She had been gone barely six hours and already, their home seemed like
nothing more than a house, a structure made of cement and bricks, a structure
lacking the love and affection required in a home. Darkness had descended
outside and Oliver decided to go to the Silver Unicorn. Cedric had once told
him that there was nothing more soothing than drowning your sorrows with booze.
Olive had mocked Cedric at the time for turning to alcohol instead of thinking
things through, but then again, Oliver's biggest sorrows in those days were the
loss of a Quidditch match. Now, Oliver could think of no better way to spend
the evening. Despite his despondency, the irony of his decision was not lost on
him.
Oliver walked into the pub to find that most of his team mates were already
drunk. Jason, being in a highly inebriated state, waved exuberantly at Oliver,
but Oliver shook his head and headed for a corner booth, away from the hub of
activity and excitement. Through the smoky haze, Oliver suddenly realized that
Brett was sitting at the next table with his friend Mark. Oliver didn't make
any indication that he had noticed them. Even so, he could hear their
conversation clearly. Initially, he paid no attention to the words of the
conversation, preferring instead to gulp down his Scotch. But then, he caught
Alison's name in the conversation. His back stiffened as he strained his ears t
listen to them.
'Alison seemed really cool about it…she must really like you…' remarked Mark.
'Even so, I don't want anyone to know about us…it would create an uproar to say the least,' replied Brett.
'I don't know about that…they all seem quite accepting…and if they realize that you are truly in love, then maybe they'll understand. Hell, they may even respect you for it.'
'No, Mark, they wont respect me, they wont understand. Look, I made Alison promise not to tell anyone, not even Oliver. I mean, Oliver seems like a really nice guy, but I'm not sure how he'd react to the truth. Alison must have thought the same thing because she didn't contest my desire to keep "us" a secret.'
In his corner, Oliver's mind was whirling. So Alison and Brett had been sleeping together! Alison had lied to him, and what was worse, she had made him feel terrible about doubting her, when in reality, she was guilty…guilty as hell! Half of him wanted to pick up the chair next to him and throw it a Brett's head, but the other half, the reasonable half told him that such an action, no matter what the provocation, would almost certainly end his career with Puddlemere. Priding himself on his self control, he pushed back his chair, summoned an almost untouched bottle of vodka from a nearby empty table and then stalked out of the pub, his blood boiling and his mind screaming, 'Go back and kill him…you know you want to!' As it was, he didn't see Brett touch Mark's hand and whisper, 'I love you, Mark…you know that, right?'
*****
Alison was awakened the next morning by the sound of a loud crash from somewhere downstairs. Almost as if he had sensed her awakening, Sirius' voice floated up the stairs saying, 'Not to worry, it was just a frying pan…'
Alison lay back against the soft pillow and tried to clear her head. Her sleep had been fitful, full of dreams of Oliver, some of them good, most of them bad. She loved him, she realized, loved him more than anything else in the whole wide world, regardless of how juvenile that statement sounded. She resolved to repeat that very statement to Oliver when she went back to him that afternoon. She hopped out of bed, feeling much better than she had the previous day. Her head spun slightly, but when Alison gripped the bedstead, the sensation that she was about to fall over faded away. Deciding that it was probably just the glaring bright light streaming through the windows, Alison began to walk down the stairs. She was nearly at the foot of the rickety brown staircase when the dizziness struck again. Once again, Alison gripped the banister, but this time the spinning didn't stop. If anything, any movement on Alison's part exacerbated it. A searing pain stabbed at her stomach and Alison let out a gasp. She was aware of the world around her getting darker, and then her mind drifted into the oblivion as she fell to the floor with a sickening thud.
She came to some three hours later. She looked around, her vision blurred and realized that sometime while she had been in her coma of sorts, she had made the transition from her father's dingy house to a place with stark white walls, so white that they seemed to glow from within. She moved her head slightly, and instantly, pain shot through her. Somewhere out of her field of vision, she heard a flurry of activity and Remus' appeared before her.
'Where's dad?' she croaked, 'and what are you doing here?'
'Your father is lying at your feet. No, don't move…I'm here because your father couldn't bring you to St. Mungo's himself, what with being one of the most wanted criminals around, so he sent for me.'
'What happened…the pain…my stomach…'
'Ahh…yes, well, I suppose the pain in your stomach caused you to fall…you have a minor concussion. But it's nothing serious, or so the healer said.'
'Yes…but what was the cause of the pain in my stomach…I know you know…'
'I'm not sure I should be the one to tell you this, but since your father can't in his state, I suppose I'm going to have to. Alison, this may come as a shock to you…god knows it came as a shock to both myself and your father…you see…you're nearly two months pregnant.'
Alison's breath caught in her throat, and her head began to spin again.
'I…I can't be pregnant,' she gasped, 'Oliver and I used all sorts of protection…both magical and Muggle. Oh, lord, this can't be happening to me. I can't be pregnant. Please, uncle Remus, tell me that this is just some sort of sick joke that you're playing.'
Remus shook his head sadly. 'No…no, it's not a sick joke…' he whispered. When Alison didn't say a word, he continued, 'Your father told me what happened with Oliver, but even so, I think you should tell him. You owe him that. I mean, maybe you shouldn't see this as a burden, but rather as proof of how much you love each other.'
As Alison thought about that, she wondered if having a baby would be that bad after all. After all, she had always liked babies. Feeling much more cheerful, she sat up and to her surprise, her vision didn't glaze over as she had expected it to. She saw her father sitting at the foot of her bed, and when he saw her sitting up, he stretched his neck and licked her face.
*****
Oliver had had a terrible day so far. He had woken up that morning with a splitting headache and the most awful hangover in the history of mankind. He had found three empty bottles around him, and a significant amount of it had spilt onto the rug. Although his anger at Alison and Brett had not subsided, it was no longer clouding his thoughts like a dark fog. Then, when he had arrived at practice, he had received a dressing down from Jason for being late. For the next two hours, the team had watched in amazement as Oliver saved only two goals out of about eight. And now…now, a bunch of kids were running havoc with the brooms. True, Jason had given them permission to do so, but Oliver's foul mood was not helped one iota by the fact that a small kid of about seven who could barely stay on his broom managed to get a goal past him. He couldn't even look at Brett and every time Brett said something to him, he simply looked coldly at him in reply. In the end, Brett gave up and retreated to the other end of the pitch. In the locker room after practice, Oliver did apologize to Jason and promised not to drink so much ever again, a promise that he fully intended to keep. But when Oliver brushed past Brett without even saying goodbye, Brett began to wonder if Alison had accidentally told him about Brett being gay. Oliver unlocked the front door to his house, his mind set on one thing alone: sleep. This desire, however, vanished the moment he stepped into the house and was replaced by unbridled fury at the sight of Alison sitting on the couch in the living room, waiting for him.
Alison had gone over a million different ways by which to break the news to Oliver, and yet, now that he was actually standing in front of her, she was speechless. She scanned his face for any signs of remorse, but all in vain. Oliver's face was so expressionless and his eyes were so hard that it might well have been sculpted in stone. Grasping at the first thing that came to her mind, she asked, 'How was practice, Oliver?'
Oliver's reaction made her wince. His face reddened and his eyes bulged. He glared at Alison and growled, 'Awful, if you must know…stupid children flying around…why anyone would want children is beyond me'
Alison's face fell a fraction. 'Don't you want a child?' she asked uneasily.
'Of course not! I don't have a death wish. Besides, I'm at a stage right now where I don't need any responsibilities…honestly, a person would have to be completely off his rocker to have a child!'
Alison choked back a sob and tried to keep her voice from quavering too much as she caught hold of Oliver's hand and made him sit down on the couch next to her.
'Then I must be completely off my rocker, Oliver,' whispered Alison.
'What?' asked Oliver, and for the first time since he had entered the house, he allowed his eyes to mirror the confusion within him. seeing Alison again made him realize how much he loved her and made him hope that whatever had happened with Brett was over, a thing of the past.
When Alison didn't answer, he took her hand in his own, and asked, 'what are you talking about, Alison?'
'Oliver…I'm three months pregnant.'
All the anger that had been doused by Alison's reappearance returned with a vengeance. Alison mistook his silence for shock and squeezed his hand gently. Softly, she whispered, 'I love you, Oliver.' Oliver wrenched his hand free of hers and sprang off the couch.
'No! NO, YOU DON'T! YOU'RE LYING! LIKE YOU'VE BEEN LYING TO ME ALL ALONG!!' yelled Oliver, his rage threatening to engulf him.
Alison reeled back like she had been slapped. She opened her mouth to protest, but Oliver shouted, 'DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME! WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU'RE PREGNANT?'
'Because you're the father…' replied Alison.
'I CAN'T BE THE FATHER. YOU KNOW HOW CAREFUL WE'VE BEEN…what I don't understand is why you're not over at Brett's house telling him about this baby.'
'Brett? Why would I tell Brett, Oliver?' pleaded Alison, completely oblivious to what Oliver was insinuating.
Oliver couldn't believe that Alison was acting so innocent after she had cheated on him with one of his teammates. He couldn't believe that she actually had the gall to come to him and try to pretend that it was his child. Hatred, anger and jealousy clouded his senses and in his angry haze, he yelled, 'BECAUSE BRETT IS THE FATHER…NOT ME, BRETT! DON'T THINK I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THE TWO OF YOU. I KNOW ALL ABOUT IT, AND I WONDER HOW I COULD HAVE BEEN SO GULLIBLE. I CANT BELIEVE THAT I THOUGHT YOU TRULY LOVED ME.'
Alison's ears stung with the accusations that Oliver was hurling at her. Angry that he doubted her when she had been nothing less than completely faithful, she stood up, and yelled back, 'I NEVER SLEPT WITH BRETT…I NEVER SLEPT WITH ANYONE BUT YOU, OLIVER! We've had this discussion before…'
'Yeah, but that time I made the mistake of believing your lies, a mistake that I will never make again, that much I promise you. Now get out of my house…and don't ever come back.'
'Oh, believe me, Oliver, when I say that I will never ever come near you again. And THIS, I promise you. Goodbye, Oliver.'
And with that, she yanked open the door and ran out into the night. This time, Oliver did not feel the urge to go after her.
'Why should I?' he asked the walls, 'I'm in the right this time! I regret the day I first laid eyes on Alison Black.'
*****
Remus shook his head in sadness as he looked at Alison lying in the hospital bed with her father sitting by her side. The nurse hadn't liked the idea of letting the great shaggy dog into the hospital again, but in the end, she had had to agree.
*There must be some limit to the amount of pain that one person can suffer* thought Remus despondently. *First the fight, then the miscarriage, though I'm sure that the latter is a direct consequence of the first.*
And a miscarriage it had been, one caused by a sudden increase in hormone levels, an increase that was characteristic of intense stress and worry. Remus, like Sirius had not been informed of the cause of the fight between Oliver and Alison, just that their relationship-one that the two older men had truly believed would withstand the test of time and tide-was over. Both of them realized that the last thing that Alison needed at that point in time was the third degree regarding what had happened in Puddlemere, so they stuck to safe topics, such as the release of her new song which was due out in two weeks.
*****
Alison walked into her new apartment, in one of the swankiest buildings in San Francisco. Before she unpacked, she scribbled a note to her father that read "Have reached…please keep your promise, dad." She tied it to the foot of an owl that sat perched on a little stand near the window and whispered, 'Sirius Black' into its ears. She watched as the bird took off out of the open window and soared into the azure sky until it was merely a speck in the distance.
She turned back to her trunk, sincerely hoping that her father would not break his promise to keep her address a secret from everyone. She pulled off the silver chain that hung around her neck, the chain that Oliver had given her the night he told her that he loved her, the chain that was her only link to her past. Trying not to reminisce, she tucked the chain into a pair of old green socks that she never wore anymore, and hoped against all hope that the old adage, " Out of sight, Out of mind" proved to be true. Little did she know…
THE END