Chapter 5: The Aftermath
I groaned weakly, hiding under the covers to cower away from the painful light. Why was it so bloody bright? Hearing a shuffle of footsteps coming into my room, I muttered, "Go away, Ems." I winced, covering my ears. Merlin, even my own voice was killing my ears. Everything was maximized: the sounds, the feeling of my soft bed, the damned light that wouldn't turn off.
"You wish, Rose."
My head shot up from under my blanket, regretting the sudden motion – everything spun out of control as the throbbing in my head increased to a point where it hurt to think clearly. My back was against the headboard as I was hurled into a moment of panic. That voice wasn't Emily's! Hell, that wasn't even a girl's voice! Dread settled in my unsteady stomach as I turned to squint at the person who spoke.
Scorpius smirked back at me, looking quite comfortable against the doorway with a steaming cup in his hands.
"I- who- what in Merlin's name are you doing here?" I managed to sound demanding through my series of splutters. He looked unaffected. "Where's Emily? What happened yesterday? How did I get here? What are you doing in my flat?" As the last question flew from my lips, I gasped, burying my face in my hands as I blushed deeply. "Oh my god, we haven't…?"
Hurriedly looking under the covers, I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw that I was not naked. Glaring at him, I scowled. "You almost gave me a heart attack, damn it!" The accusation was clear in my voice, before I added suspiciously, "How did I change from my party clothes to my sleeping stuff?"
Rolling his grey eyes at me, he sat on the foot of my bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly. "Emily is out with her parents, we went to a party yesterday, Emily and I had to Apparate you back here, she made you change, and she practically threatened my life if I didn't stay to take after you." His tone was bored and expressionless, but it was the glint in his eyes that told me that he was quite amused. "Did I answer all of your questions?"
"I guess," I replied indifferently, stifling a yawn. When he offered me the cup in his hands, I took it reluctantly, sniffing it doubtfully before sending him a pointed look. He sighed, rolling his eyes at me once more.
"It's a potion for hangovers – even though yours is mild, this should fix it completely. It's not like I poisoned it." Then he mumbled to himself, "Bloody paranoid if you ask me." Smiling sweetly at him, I took my pillow with my free hand and bopped him hard on the head with it before propping it behind my back.
Holding my breath, I drank the potion in one shot, chocking as the bitter taste hit my throat. Merlin, this thing tasted horrible and nasty – worse than Mum's cooking. "Oh, this stuff is digusting!" My throat was raspy after the concoction, and my stomach that had been calm despite last night's drinking was suddenly churning. Throwing him a resentful look, I tossed the empty mug at him as I flung the blankets off, dashing to my bathroom. The next thing I knew, I was clinging onto the toilet bowl as I retched and heaved forcefully, the marble floor cold against my folded legs.
A wretched minute passed as my stomach decided to imitate a roller coaster, struggling to empty itself when there was nothing to throw up. Calming my shuddering body, I let out a moan, exhausted from my mock attempts to vomit. Looking up, I saw that the person that had caused my sudden bout of pain was holding up my hair. Scowling, I batted his hands away, standing up shakily to wash my mouth, even if it was untainted.
"You did that on purpose." There was no way in hell that the hangover potion was supposed to make somebody almost throw up. In the mirror's reflection, I saw that Scorpius was doing his eye-roll again. Stepping away from me, his lips were set in a grim line.
His next words made me wish that I had my wand nearby. "You're too dramatic for your own good, Rosie," he snapped, stepping out of the bathroom and presumably storming out to the living room. Stunned for a minute, I let out a low growl, stalking after him after stopping by my desk to pick up my wand, just in case Mr. PMS needed a little reminder why he shouldn't piss off a hung over, fiery-tempered girl in her own flat.
"Well you know what? You just happened to be a too serious, no fun prat- OI!" My mouth drooped into a frown, my hand immediately rubbing my reddening nose that was going to make me look like Rudolf the Reindeer. Hell, James often called me Rudolf in the winter anyways, although it'd surprised me at first that he even knew who Rudolf was. I shot Mr. PMS-who-wanted-to-imitate-a-car-handled-by-an-amateur-so-that-I-can-piss-Rose-off a glare, a scathing remark already ready to strike out when something moving over his shoulder caught my eye. When did Scorpius (the name was a mouthful, even for me) get so tall that I could no longer look fully over his shoulder without having to jump?
Jumping was out of the question, because my stomach was protesting at the mere thought of it. Without a word, I pushed him away with a grunt and he relented without a word. The boy was acting weird these days, but hell, what did I know about him anymore. "Albus?" The figure stopped and straightened at the mention of the name, sending me a sheepish smile that I would have recognised anywhere. But before I could ask him what the hell he was doing in my flat, somebody else emerged from behind my dear cousin's back. "Hugo?!"
Wasn't this just a lovely family meeting. The Potter looking guilty, the Malfoy looking – well, amused, and the two Weasleys. One gangly red-head that was staring nervously at the older sibling while the said sister was in a shirt ten sizes too big that made her look as though she had no shorts on. Maybe that would explain why the boys looked uncomfortable.
My bad.
"I have shorts on," I told them, lifting the hem of my blue shirt enough to reveal – to reveal… my flower-patterned underwear?
It was like a slow-motioned, scripted scene. Girl stares at flower panties for a minute. Cousin and sibling are still looking away. Blond boy smirks. Silence in the room. And then-,
"SCORPIUS!"
My hands finally let go of my shirt, letting it fall over my legs and brushing the spot just above my knees as I rounded on him, wand already drawn out and pointed with dead accuracy at his chest. That infuriating git who was so blatantly enjoying my mortified expression! The smirk. It was going to have to go or else I'd hex it off for him. "My shorts!"
The amused smirk still stayed as he stayed so damn casual, hands lazily resting in his pockets even when I was already rounding up on him, the tip of my wand close to jabbing at his muscled chest. "Watch it, Rose, you could hurt someone with that." Merlin, as if I needed my wand to hurt someone-. I tilted my face upwards toward him, teeth gritted in response to his oh-so-annoying remark.
"You dressed me! At least have the decency to give me pants after-,"
"It wasn't my problem, you should've noticed-,"
"A-hem!" Both of my blood relations coughed at the same time, causing me and the prick to turn around to glare daggers at them for interrupting who was to blame for my lack of clothing. The idiot was right though, how the hell did I not notice that I wasn't wearing my usual sleeping shorts? Pay attention, Rosie, Albus is talking.
Albus Potter looked at us, especially at me, with weary green eyes behind his spectacles. Hugo stood next to him with a flushed face, definitely seeming uncomfortable in this situation, or at least at our argument. Why? "As interesting as the both of your… last night activities seem," he broke off to add a strangled cough again at this, avoiding our eyes momentarily, "I'd rather you leave out the details."
The sentence took a moment to make me understand just why both boys were looking like tomatoes, and when it did, Hugo butted in efficiently as soon as my mouth opened. Damn it, didn't people realise that it was rude to interrupt? "No, really, we don't want to know. And obviously, Albus and I have overstayed our visit – we'll get going…" The next thing I knew, both gits Apparated away with a loud crack.
Irritated didn't even begin to describe what I felt. If they were going to come and leave without notice, couldn't they at least have taken Git Number Three along with them? Boys. They couldn't do anything right to save their lives. Hearing Scorpius move around, I screwed my eyes close and flopped onto one of the sofas, letting my body sink into the plush cushions heavily. This was way too much drama to handle in one morning, especially when that morning had to be used for hangover recovery.
"Why do you think they were here?"
One eye fluttered reluctantly to watch Scorpius who was still standing with his impossibly nonchalant manner. "I don't know; they didn't give us a chance to question them." On second thought, why were they even at my flat in the first place? How long had they stayed for? This was why I'd been trying to convince Emily to put up the Apparation wards. If a stranger popped in, stole our stuff and killed me, it would all be that witch's fault.
I was so tired that a protest couldn't escape when the blond moved over to sit in the couch opposite of the one I was sitting on, instead coming out as an incoherent string of random words. He ignored me. Of course he did. The silence that settled over us was something I was too exhausted to care about when Scorpius thought it was his job to speak. Joy. "It's good to see Albus, I haven't seen him for a year." He was fidgeting. It was increasingly getting on my-
A year? My sluggish brain started working out the math. The fight happened Merlin-knew how many years ago. And he hadn't seen him for a year? If anything, Scorpius' suddenly careful expression was enough to answer the question I was about to ask, but I asked it anyways. "You… you guys met? Before?" Voice weak, my two eyes were fully open and watching him, but my thoughts were far away. His nod was all I needed, and his explanation that went along with it fell to deaf ears.
Never had it occurred to me once that he'd meet up with Albus. It was a mistake on my part, like many things in the past had been – the fight had specifically happened between me and Scorpius, while Albus had been the unlucky kid in the middle. The grudges were between me and the blond. There was no reason for the two boys not to meet for a chat after school when the feud was supposedly over. But it wasn't fair.
"Rose?" His voice brought me out from my thoughts, and I sent him a shrug of my shoulders, purposely yawning to show that I was tired and out of it. What more could I say to that? If I'd started talking, then it'd be full of childish nonsense that would've followed up with a stamp of the foot.
If I thought any form of quietness between us was possible, I was wrong. "Nice underwear by the way, Miss Flower Power."
"Oh shut it, Mr. PMS. Go home!"
"What did you call me?!"
And so, my not-so-peaceful morning began.
I was grateful that Darcy had enough sense to make sure that the next day after her party was a weekend, which meant we all had our day off. Needless to say, I wasted those hours away by lounging around on my couch, groaning about how crappy I felt while Scorpius added unhelpful snide remarks here and there until Emily decided to finally show up. Face down on my red cushion until I was sure he left, I lifted my face to give Emily a rather fantastic scowl that could scare a gargoyle away.
I forgot that Emily wasn't a gargoyle.
Using her wand to put her coat away, the girl sent me a cheerful grin in response, which made me let out a whimper of pain as I continued to bury myself in my self-pity and headache. "Had fun, Rosie?" All she received in reply was a scornful snort, which caused my head to throb again. Argh. She was unaffected by my lack of response, merely throwing herself on the little space I left the sofa with, jostling me around in the process.
With all the strength I had (which wasn't very much to begin with), I proceeded to make an attempt to kick her off the couch. "Person in pain here, Emily dear," I protested as she refused to budge, ignoring my whining as she turned on the TV. Such a wonderful roommate she was.
There were times when I wondered why we even had a TV in our flat when I rarely watched it. But now, looking at Emily as she in turn stared at the television with the expression of a faithful TV series follower, it was painfully obvious why. Now I had to think of a way to get her off the television screen before she started making out with it or something equally odd that TV fanatics did.
My eyes scanned the table top briefly, remembering that I had to finish Rita Skeeter's book to have a full bash-fest with my mother about it. "Hey Ems, did you take my book?" Frowning slightly, my gaze travelled over to the shelves when the book was nowhere to be found on the table, but no shocking pink cover caught my attention. That was odd, I could've sworn I left it right in front of the couch yesterday before the party.
"You mean the Skeeter book that I keep calling rubbish and that should be burned to ashes?" Cushion held over my head as I stopped trying to peer through my sofa, I rolled my blue eyes at her, not knowing why I'd even bothered asking her in the first place. Okay, fine, so she didn't have it; then who did? Because there was nobody as book-loving as me to actually read the cow's book out of their own will.
It was a pity, I wanted to laugh at the more ridiculous things she'd written out. Unable to help myself, I turned my head at Emily's direction again, eyebrows furrowed in doubt as I felt myself readying for a question to throw at her. But before I could even get a word out, a dangerous "Don't even think about asking me again" was sent at me. "Party pooper," I retorted, making an attempt to suffocate myself by planting my face on my trusty pillow once more.
And the phone rang.
When it kept on ringing and Emily made no motion to move, I got up slowly while cursing the head rush, taking care to throw the cushion at the brunette's head while I made my way towards the phone. Damn it, why was it so far away? And it was loud too. Walking felt like hell. "Hello?" I snapped into the receiver, and the background sound behind whoever was calling stopped.
"Rosie? It's me." Oh, it was Albus. Hugo was probably there too. And James. And Lily. And basically my whole clan of relatives that could take over the world one day. As if my point needed justification, a chorus of "Hi Rose!" rang into my ear. Bloody hell, ow, that sodding hurt.
Wincing, I stopped myself from hanging up again. "Hey, and tell Weasley-Potter and Co. to keep it down." An abnormally loud hush was heard, sounding rather like static when there was bad signal while the family fell silent. Good. "Now, ignoring all pleasantries for the sake of my health, I need to ask you a question."
"About… about Scorpius?"
Damn, I keep on forgetting that not all the Potters were idiots – James just happened to be an exception. "Yeah, about Scorpius." I detected the shuffle of feet, and if I'd been able to see him, he would've been scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Feeling Emily's attention on me at the mention of the blond's name, I pointed at the TV, gesturing her to mind her own business.
"Alright then, fire away."
"You met Scorpius last year?"
The silence on the other end was something I hadn't been expecting. Then finally-, "Oh. Yeah. That. Sorry that I didn't tell you, I just didn't think-,"
"No, it's totally fine! It just took me by surprise, that's all." Pause. "So what did you want about?"
"Oh! Hugo and I'd dropped by earlier because he… wanted to retrieve his gargles?" My eyebrows shot up, although the creases between them smoothened as he hurriedly cleared it up after a second. "Sorry, goggles. Marbles! Yeah, that's right, marbles."
"Tell him that he's not going to get them back any time soon." Unless he was going to convince Mary of returning back her charm bracelets for the marbles, which I highly doubted was possible. Bargaining with the girl was like talking to a wall. After a short bark of laughter, Albus ruefully said he'd tell Hugo, and we hung up after many minutes of idle chatter. He was my favourite cousin out of the million that I had, no doubt about that.
I really didn't want to move. So with that in mind, I pulled out a stool and rested my forehead against the cool kitchen counter, praying that the churning of my stomach would go away soon. So much for Scorpius' hangover potion. Noting the change in the TV volume, I muttered, "Don't ask." After getting a cushion thrown at my head, Emily returned to the TV while I was left with my pain. Again.
Friday: get drunk with my friends, ultimately yelling at Scorpius before giggling it off. Saturday: catching Hugo and Albus in my flat, Scorpius taking care of me, drinking hangover potion and throwing up, living in my own agony for a good four hours after that. Sunday/Today: have a crappy day.
If I had a schedule, I swore that would've been the agenda for today. It was like Merlin was up there, watching me with a smug smirk on his face, pointing his wand down at me and going, "Ooh look at Rose Weasley! Since I have nothing better to do with my time, let's make her day utter hell."
Damn him. I'd like to know what he'd think about his plans laid out for me once I go up there and teach him a lesson for making my weekend horrible. Ruining Fridays were fine, Saturdays she could let it past, but nobody could get away with messing with Rose Weasley's Sundays.
Hugging a pillow close to my body for more warmth, I held back a pathetic whimper as I plastered a band-aid on the cut on my knee that was self-inflicted, although it was unintentional – I'd always had the worse luck when I shaved my legs. It was only two in the afternoon and I'd managed to step on Cleo's tail (not that I was terribly sorry about that), break a nail, turn my hair purple from a misfired spell, and burned my breakfast. And on top of that, I'd somehow managed to come down with a cold.
It just wasn't my week. In fact, it'd never been my week ever since Scorpius suddenly appeared in my life again. Damn him.
Even sitting on my bed right now didn't seem all too safe, considering my luck today.
Sniffling to myself after the band-aid was placed somewhat properly over my injury, I found myself wondering where my Skeeter book was for the fifth time this day. Entertainment. I needed it, and I knew I didn't lose it; in fact, I had a strong suspicion that Emily went ahead and burned the book behind my back. "I sodding hate my life!"
It was at that very moment when my mum decided to make an entrance and appear in my room after a noisy crack. Genuine shock and bad luck combined, I promptly let out a yell before falling off my bed, carpeted floor managing to cushion most of my fall. Except for my head. Of course, with my luck today, it was anywhere apart from the head. The acute pain reminded me vaguely about the headache I'd just gotten rid of from yesterday before I let out a long hiss of pain. Rubbing the spot gingerly, I stood up to see Mum looking rueful and embarrassed. Good.
"Mum? What are you doing here?" Déjà vu time. Apparition wards; yes, Emily was going to get a good talking to, and if she didn't put it up, then hell, I would. However, my pain was put aside the best I could as I watched my mum with interest when her expression turned unfathomable. So she wasn't here for a small chat – I got that.
She sighed, sitting on the edge of my bed while I stayed standing up cautiously, not wanting to risk breaking my head open my tripping if I moved. "When were you planning to tell me, sweetheart?" The gentle yet disappointed tone that she'd used caught me off-guard, leaving me to tilt my head at her in confusion.
"Tell you what?" The activity in the living room stopped abruptly, and I could tell that Emily was listening – listening, or tactfully creeping away for some mother-daughter time. That drew another sigh from my mother. Before she answered, her hand was busy with her robes, her brown eyes still on mine as she spoke warily.
"When were you going to tell me you are pregnant?" And with that, she drew out a book. A pink book. A shocking pink book that looked suspiciously like the one I'd lost yesterday. And it didn't take me long to notice the loitering two figures that stood around the doorway of my room looking like guilty children behind my very serious mum.
I don't know what they'd said to her, but one thing was for sure: Albus and Hugo were so, so dead.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter and the magical world - I just own the few characters you don't see in the books. That, and my children's center.
A/N: Oh wow - wait, before you kill me, I swear I have a good excuse. I got obsessed with PottersWorld, which is a play-by-post RPG website to all those who don't know it, and trust me, it's addicting. So addicting that it gave me no time to work on the chapter and giving me barely enough time to finish school work on time. But yes, I made this chapter especially juicy for you (or, at least, I think it's dramatic...)! My story's so far following my plan. : ) Reviews are appreciated! Liked it? Hated it? Things happening too fast? I'll try to update the next chapter as fast as I can, I swear!
Oh, and I'd like to say thank you so much to those who've been following my story so far, and even more thank yous to those who've favourited this story and left a review! I love you guys, silent readers and reviewers and favouriters and just anyone who likes this story so far! *snugs.*
