A/N: Thanks for the support, everyone! I warn you, this chapter is kind of gross, so you should probably skip the sixth-eighth paragraphs if you have a weak stomach.

Chapter Four - Tales of a Murtlap Essence

On Monday, I felt even worse than usual when morning sickness came around, so I had to miss the first class of my day, which was Potions. Thankfully, Professor Slughorn said that he was teaching the sixth and seventh years the same lesson for the day, so during my free period, I went down to the dungeons.

"Susan Wooding! So good to see you! I trust you feel better now, yes?" Professor Slughorn practically yelled in my ear as I walked through the thick wooden doors. People were unpacking their things, but most stopped to point at me and whisper. "Today, we will be making Essence of Murtlap. Don't worry, I already checked with Madam Pomfrey and she said it's quite alright for you to be around," he said to me in a lower voice. I nodded, staring at a crack in the ceiling. "Why don't you sit down right over here?"

I took his advice and placed myself in the seat he was pointing to, putting my things down on the floor next to me. As I was still half-asleep, it took me a moment to realize who I was sitting at the table with, and I immediately wanted to move. Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini were all staring at me like I was a bum from off of the street. Of course, now it was too late; Professor Slughorn had already commanded that we get started on our assignment. I began to grind up a dragon claw, trying to not think about who I was sitting with. I found it to be impossible, however, when Draco Malfoy said loudly to Blaise, "What is that godawful stench? Oh, that's right; it must be the pile of worthless rubbish and her disgusting unborn brat next to me."

Tears burned in my eyes and I stared down at the table, red flushing across my cheeks, as his Slytherin pals laughed. While I had heard worse, it was still hard to believe that he was saying that about me, just because I slept with Cormac. I wished so badly that I could go back in time and not make this mistake again. This was pathetic; I was supposed to be the all-powerful Head Girl, and yet people like this were getting to me.

For the next thirty minutes, I worked in silence, trying to not hear the jabs in my direction. My supplies kept mysteriously falling off of the table; whenever I lifted my head again after picking them up, something was different about my potion and Pansy snorted obnoxiously. Was my Murtlap Essence supposed to be changing from green to various shades of blue? I thought it was supposed to be yellow at this point. And oh, God, why did it smell so awful? The stench was making me feel nauseated again. I peered into my cauldron and saw Doxy wings floating around in there, which I didn't remember ever handling. Something was seriously wrong here.

My quill fell to the floor yet again, and as I was straightening myself back up, I saw the reason why my potion was so weird and Pansy was laughing: Draco Malfoy was throwing a black beetle into my cauldron. Everyone else at the table was in hysterics, but I didn't think it was funny at all and apparently, neither did Draco; he just stared at me with enormous eyes when I caught him. I wanted to give him detention, to yell, to do something - anything - but the putrid odor wafting from my cauldron blinded my senses, and suddenly all I could see was that beetle, legs detached from its lifeless body --

I stood up and promptly vomited all over Draco Malfoy.

There was a sudden, pronounced silence in the classroom as Draco and I looked at each other with horrified looks. Then the laughter and sounds of disgust began. Someone kept saying my name, but I did nothing other than burst into tears and run out of the room as fast as my legs could carry me. I went up, up the stairs, as far away from the dungeons as I could get, and finally ran into the bathroom on the third floor. Of course, due to my luck, I ran right into Professor Sprout.

"Oh my G-God, I'm so sorry, P-Professor!" I exclaimed, my words turning into blubbering nonsense as I tried to apologize. I was still crying just as hard as I had been when I'd left the Potions classroom, and I really needed to blow my nose. My skin was practically green, I was feeling so sick, and my hair and clothes were a mess. I was quite a sorry sight, and Professor Sprout took on an expression of pity.

"Oh, no, it's fine. Are you alright, dear? Did something happen?"

I shook my head, thinking, in that moment, that I had never felt this humiliated in my whole life. Why did she have to see me at my worst?

"You know, whatever it was, you can tell me about it," said Professor Sprout, putting a hand on my arm. "I promise I won't judge you."

"Just…something in Potions…it's no big d-deal, Professor."

I could tell she wasn't buying it. "Alright. Would you like to go lay down in your dormitory for the rest of the day?"

I considered it for about half a second, and shook my head again. I would have to make up so much work if I did! "No, I think I'll be fine," I said, slightly calmer now. But as soon as she left, I broke down. Nobody would ever forget what had just happened; I was sure of it. When I was done crying, I rinsed off my face and waited in the bathroom until the next class began.

That was the first, and possibly the worst, of my encounters with Draco Malfoy.

Gryffindor Quidditch team tryouts were held later that day. I wasn't really interested in Quidditch, but it meant a lot to Cormac, and he meant a lot to me, so I decided to go and watch. There were so many people that they would have to continue into the next day, but most of them were just awful players. They were all making fools out of themselves. While I came from a Pureblood family, I was not good at the sport in the least, and I would have never broadcasted myself the way these students were.

I wasn't sure when Cormac's tryout was, and as the hours passed, I grew more and more anxious; I had some assignments I really needed to work on, and if I was going to stay here all evening, I would get nothing done. Thankfully, it didn't take very long for the Keepers to come up. It was still light outside, in fact, when I noticed Cormac striding purposefully towards his broom.

My breath caught in my throat when I saw him. Even from the stands, I could still make out his features: the brunette hair framing his face perfectly, the confident look plastered across his face, the muscles beneath his Quidditch robes. He looked so very in his element. Actually, he looked perfect, and I got the strangest urge to pounce on him. I blushed at the thought, as it was so unlike myself to imagine such a thing. But ever since I'd gotten pregnant, nothing about me was normal anymore.

As I watched Cormac rise to the goalposts on his broom, I felt that everything between us was right, even though neither of us were happy about the pregnancy and hadn't spoken more than a "Hello" in passing for two weeks. Things were going to work out. I just knew it.

Hormones can turn a person into an idiot, as I'd already learned. Too bad I didn't think of it that way at that particular moment in time.

As Cormac blocked the first four throws that came at him, a group of Gryffindor girls screamed their heads off, one of them waving a sign around wildly. A wave of jealousy hit me whenever I heard them; didn't they know I was his girlfriend (wasn't I?) Who were they to act like they were his number-one fans? I found myself shaking, and I didn't know why. I wanted to go down there and knock every one of their ditzy little heads around. How dare they?

I blinked as I tried to put an end to such terrible thoughts. I wasn't a violent person. I never wanted to harm or humiliate anyone. What was getting into me? Sure, I was an emotional rollercoaster, but that was no excuse. These girls were doing nothing wrong, and I was being just ridiculous.

As Ginny Weasley came at Cormac with the Quaffle for the fifth time, Hermione Granger, who I was sitting next to, whispered something under her breath that I couldn't make out. Cormac swerved in the completely wrong direction, missing the Quaffle by several feet. The crowd roared. Ronald Weasley was now the Keeper for Gryffindor.

No! Cormac was now yelling at Harry Potter, Terry Boot struggling to pull him away, as I ran down the ramp that led up to the stands and towards his direction. I stopped when I reached the bottom; everyone around Cormac looked really angry, and I wasn't sure that I wanted to get involved right now. He finally left and stomped away. I caught him right before he entered the changing rooms, and his livid face didn't change at all when he saw that it was me.

"Did you see that?" he bellowed, and I flinched. "That was ridiculous! That piece of shit Weasley and his good-for-nothing sister totally cheated! I said we need a rematch without her, because you saw her cheat, didn't you, but Potter is such a prat! I swear, I'm going to---"

"Cormac," I said, placing a hand on his arm. I was pleased that he was talking to me, but as close with Fred and George as I was, I didn't like what he was saying about the Weasleys. "Please, calm down. You do deserve a rematch, but you did excellent. I'm so proud of you." And indeed, it was true. He had done so well, and I was still amazed that Ron beat him. How exactly had that happened, again?

He ranted for about ten more minutes, and then he looked down at me as if noticing that I was there for the first time. It was quiet. The changing rooms were secluded, away from the hustle and bustle of the field, and my mouth was abruptly dry with nothing to say. Cormac placed a hand on my cheek, running his thumb over the skin there, and said, ruining the moment, "I heard you threw up on Draco Malfoy today. That's pretty badass."

I flushed. Why did he have to bring that up just as I was forgetting about it? "Where did you hear that?"

"Zacharias."

"Oh." Again, there was an awkward silence, and I blindly searched through my head for anything to say to strike up a conversation. The first thing that came to mind was the developing being inside of me, and without thinking at all I blurted out, "Are you going to tell your parents about the pregnancy?"

"I don't know. Do you know what they would do to me?"

I didn't, but I could imagine. The McLaggens were all about looking perfect, and such a young son with a pregnant girlfriend - before marriage, no less - would leave a serious dent on their record. I thought about Mrs. McLaggen and frowned. She'd never liked me much, but she'd begun to loathe me even more after something that occurred later in the summer. But Cormac didn't know about that and didn't need to.

"My parents," I said, "are going to kill me. Will you be there with me when I tell them?" I pictured my poor, unsuspecting family back home. I hoped they wouldn't hate me forever for what I'd done. This Christmas break was going to be an interesting one, that was for sure…

"I don't know," Cormac stated again. "I think I might have plans. I could be busy."

"Too busy for this? Come on, Cormac. Please?" He said nothing, and after a long time, I said, partly because I meant it and partly because it was a last-ditch attempt to persuade him, "I love you." I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned against his body. He replied by brushing his lips against mine - not the response I'd wanted, but at least he would touch me. Again, I thought that things were alright, and again, I was wrong.

We headed into the castle and towards the Great Hall, Cormac stumbling all over the steps as he once again complained about the unfairness of the tryouts and how much Harry Potter got on his nerves. After dinner, he seemed to have cheered up a bit and was giving me a play-by-play of the throws he did block. We were walking around the seventh floor, on our way to a shortcut, when we passed by Draco Malfoy. I turned red, Draco looked disgusted, and Cormac just about had steam coming out of his ears.

"I heard you were messing with my girlfriend, Malfoy. Don't do it again if you know what's good for you."

Draco raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to retaliate, but I interrupted him with, "Cut it out, you two, or I'll have to give you both detention."

"Like you have any authority over me, whore," Draco said.

And then Cormac attacked him.