Sorry I took so long to upload, I had like, a bazillion assignments due lately, and they were sort of weighing my down. I'm also kinda was low on ideas – so this might be the second last chapter….
Chapter Seven: Not Now!
Picture this: you wake up in a crisp white hospital bed, after dreaming you were attacked by four former death eaters then saved by the guy who made your school life living hell, after he warned you about the attack in the first place. Imagine, when you wake up, you realise it wasn't a dream, that it had actually happened, and that you hated yourself for liking it when he picked you up and held you like that. You internally slap yourself for enjoying having him so close to you, for not wanting it to end. You look around, trying to get him out of your mind, taking in the surroundings as you do. Your mother is asleep in a chair beside your bed, her eyes rimmed in red, fast asleep.
That's what I woke up too. My mother screamed when she saw me awake. It took Hermione, Ron, along with three other nurses to stop her running headlong at me and pulling me into a crushing hug. Apparently I'd been asleep – no, unconscious, for three days. Someone (the nurses didn't know who, but I did) had found me and brought me to the hospital, in time to save the babies. Apparently it really was just in time. Any longer and the babies would have died or they would have had to be prematurely born.
I would like to say that my stay at the hospital was interesting and enjoyable, but then I'd be lying. Honestly – it was boring. I was there for two more days after I woke up, and they were the most boring two days of my life. Imagine two days of doing nothing but History of Magic. Two days straight.
Anyway. The nurse told me I had 'asstained injuries to my head, back, legs and arms that were serious, although not leathal'. I was relieved to not hear her say the word 'stomach' because as much as I really didn't want these kids, I wouldn't have been able to bare it if they'd died. Don't ask me why. I'm not in the mood.
So lets skip forward to a week after I was out of hospital. A week before the end of my chapter in this story.
"Ginny dear, can you get the bottle of butter beer on the kitchen bench for me?" Mum asked me quietly. I groaned, but pulled myself from the couch. Let me set the scene for you: Ron and Hermione were outside somewhere, George was sitting by the fire talking to Lee Jordan about something to do with the shop and Mum and Dad were sitting by the kitchen door. I know Mums just trying to keep me moving but honestly – when you standing right next to the door – why can't you get it yourself?
"You know," I huffed under my breath as I made my way towards them, "I'm starting to think you guys are just lazy."
My parents only smiled and watched me walk through the kitchen door. I stretched my back, and found the butter beer. Sitting next to it was a bottle of vinegar, in a similar bottle. A large smile spread over my face.
Quickly, I pulled out my wand and transferred the labels on the bottles and changed the colour of the vinegar to look like butter beer. Then, putting the 'vinegar' away, I left the kitchen, placing the bottle on the table were Mum and Dad were sitting, smiling sweetly at them as I passed.
Carefully sitting down, I picked up the book I'd been reading before - a muggle book called The Chronicles of Narnia. Good series but seriously – a world in a wardrobe. Come on – get real.
I casually flipped the pages, making it look like I was just innocently reading my book. Waiting for them to drink it…
"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY! PUT THIS VINEGAR BACK RIGHT NOW AND DO WHAT YOU WERE ASKED TO DO IN THE FIRST PLACE!"
I giggled and put the book down, pulling myself out of the chair again,
"That's what you get for being lazy!" I said to my fuming mother in a sing-song voice, then waltzed through the kitchen door again before she could yell at me further. I opened the cupboard and stretched up to get the butter beer bottle I'd hidden.
I got it down and placed it on the kitchen bench, rubbing my bloated stomach absent mindedly. It had just started hurting again. Ever since I'd gotten out of the shower this morning it had been hurting on and off – not bad hurting, but enough to be a bit annoying at some points in time. I stretched up to put the bottle back and dropped it in shock as the pain in my stomach got even worse, almost like someone had stabbed me – and I knew what that felt like.
The bottle smashed into a thousand pieces on the floor, glass and butter beer going everywhere.
"Shoot." I murmed, pulling my wand out of my pocket to clean it up when the pain came again, this time like someone was stabbing me, then twisting it. As the pain increased, my eyes began to blur and I screamed, feeling as though someone was stabbing, torturing and burning me all at the same time.
My last thought before I blacked out (apart from the screams that were echoing in my head) was:
Not now!
A/N: So! Who wants to play a game of would you rather! *really fake bright smile on face* Would you rather eat ten large crystals made of washing powder OR spend a day with the guy/girl you hate the most as your girl/boyfriend? Crystals for me!