*Harry Potter belongs forever and 'Always' to J.K. Rowling!
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*Title of the chapter comes from 'Black Flies' by Ben Howard
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Death seemed preferable. My entire body was filled with sharp pains, so much so that lying on an overstuffed hospital bed was uncomfortable. Even with my limited range of motion, every move I could half-way manage sent a needle-sharp pain coursing through my veins. I couldn't bring myself to actually cry, but tears welled up in my eyes. The pain was unbearable.
Upon waking up (which was two days after my fall, the mediwitch informed me), it took me twenty minutes to actually look at myself. I'm no good at seeing injuries and knew that I'd vomit if I looked half as bad as I felt. I was correct.
"Oh, dear," the mediwitch gasps sympathetically as I fill yet another one of the sterile white hospital buckets with the contents of my stomach. "Has the morning sickness been going on long?"
It's at least noon, and I've only recently woken up. I have no idea what morning sickness is supposed to mean. The grotesqueness of my injuries is what's making me sick. There are almost no parts of my body that aren't covered in horrible green-purple bruises. Some seem to be faded to the best of their ability. I'm sure there's only so much that can be done at this point. The stairs at Malfoy Manor are a complete death-trap. Me being me, I had to manage to be the first in the family to fall. Well, I didn't fall- I was pushed. But still, it was me in the hospital bed and my family outside worrying. This scenario was all too familiar to me.
A knock comes from the other side of the door just as the mediwitch helps me take a sip of water from a glass. "I hope you don't mind we told your family that you've waken up."
"No," I say slowly, then instantly regret it. The muscles in my neck ache. I wince and the mediwitch gives me a sympathetic look. She steps back as the door opens and my family rushes in. I try not to look so much in pain. After all, they've been worrying about me for going on three days. It's the least I can do.
"Belly!" Nina cries, running toward me.
"Don't touch her," Scorpius reminds Nina in a resigned voice. I feel sorry for him. How many times has he come to see me in the hospital now? Too many for me to not feel guilty.
"I won't," Nina says quietly, coming to the edge of the bed so that her face is level with mine. "I'm sorry, Belly! Me and Hugo didn't mean it!" She apologizes, about to cry.
"We are sorry" Hugo agrees, equally upset. "We aren't ever running in the house again and we're always going to listen to what you tell us. Swear!"
I try my best to give my siblings a smile. It comes out as more of a grimace.
"How are you feeling?" Rose questions, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Scorpius, whom I know most likely won't say anything to me. He never can at times like this.
"Better," I answer in a labored voice.
"You look much better," Mum tells me in what I assume is a helpful tone. The stress and worry is apparent on her face.
"Thanks." I try to sit up straighter, so my family doesn't have to see me all bruised and battered and with poor posture. A whimper escapes my lips. Dad hasn't said anything the entire time, but the well-masked look of anguish on his face guts me. Having seentheexpression so many times as a child, I can read straight through it. I can deal with the pain of closing my eyes if it means I don't have to see his face.
"Are you tired?" Rose asks.
"No."
"Do you need anything? Is there something I can get you?" Mum asks. What can I possibly need at a time like this?
"Champagne w-would be nice," I say quietly, trying again to smile. It seems like a small favor to pay Mum to humor her, if even a little bit.
"Absolutely not! Not in your condition," The mediwitch interjects, giving me a stern look.
"Kidding…."
The corners of Mum lips turn upward, if only a little bit. "Oh, Isobelle," she mutters, squeezing Dad's hand. His expression doesn't change.
"What's that?" Nina questions as she points to the needle in my left arm.
"Pain potions." Or what are supposed to be pain potions. They're terribly weak, and I'm in a lot of pain.
"I don't think they're working," Hugo observes.
"There's probably only so much that can be done for falling down a flight of stone stairs," Rose tells him. The mediwitch nods her agreement. "And breaking lots of bones."
My eyebrows rise in hopes that someone will answer my unasked questions. When I fell, I understood the inevitability of breaking bones, if not dying altogether. But which ones, I still haven't been told.
"Two of your ribs are still mending, sweetie," the mediwitch tells me. "Right side. Such a fright, so dangerously close to your abdomen."
I don't know what she means nor do I have the energy to ask.
"When is Isobelle able to come home?" Mum questions, taking my next unasked question from me.
"I can't tell you for certain at the moment," the mediwitch begins. Mum's face noticeably falls. Dad doesn't seem in the least bit surprised. "But she will have to stay for the next couple days, just to monitor her. Everything seems to be all right now, but we'd like to be certain."
Everything seems all right? What else could go wrong? Could my ribs not heal? That's impossible, considering SkeleGro is inarguably one of the ingredients in the cocktail of potions seeping into my arm.
"I understand," Mum says resignedly. "By Thursday, then?"
"They don't know," Dad reminds her in a low voice. "They never do."
If the mediwitch hears Dad, she doesn't acknowledge him.
I decide to focus on Scorpius, who looks as uncomfortable as I've seen him in the past couple weeks. Having a mother who just died from sickness, I'm sure St. Mungo's is the last place he wants to be. I wonder if he was secretly preparing for my funeral until he heard that I would be all right. Yet again, this was a time I could not be there for Scorpius. Will he tell Mum how all this made him feel when he got home? Will he ever tell me?
Scorpius bites his lip and looks away from me. Rose comfortingly places her arm around his shoulder. The only solace I have in this entire situation is that for once I didn't put myself in the hospital. I want to apologize to Scorpius, but I know he won't say anything back to me.
I hear arguing from the other side of the door. It sounds like a woman and a very angry and insistent man. I'd know that voice anywhere.
The door bursts open, and I hear the faint cry of another mediwitch saying "Sir, you need to sign in!" The man doesn't sign in. He just looks at me.
Simon Montague is at the foot of my bed.
The immediate twinge of pain in my chest isn't from falling down stairs. It's from seeing Simon again, even if I can't look anymore terrible. He doesn't say anything to me. What can he say? The last time we spoke, he said he never wanted to see me again. Now, here he is in all his handsome, blond-stubbled chin and uncombed-hair glory. It's easily apparent that he hasn't slept. How long has he known?
"We'll be in the waiting room should you need us," Dad says, gesturing for Mum to leave and not seeming the least bit surprised. He must have told Simon about me. My siblings each take turns bidding me goodbye for the time being before finally leaving. Scorpius just lowers his chin in my direction.
Simon and I are now alone except for the mediwitch, who seems to very well hate my family. I can't so easily move out of my sitting position, so I wait for Simon to do something first. For a while, he stares at me unblinkingly. What if he's only come to tell me that I got what I deserved? The thought makes my insides hurt even more.
Before I can process anything, Simon rushes over to me, sitting hurriedly on the side of my hospital bed. He takes my face in his hands, desperately crushing his lips to mine over and over again. It's causing me an indescribable amount of pain, but I don't want Simon to stop. If he only ever hurts me from loving me so much, I'm perfectly fine with that.
Finally, upon hearing my slight sobs, Simon pulls away from me. His breathing is heavy and his crystal eyes bore into mine. "Don't ever scare me like that again," Simon says, his voice faltering. "You have no idea how I felt- what I thought…"
I can't do anything but cry, from the pain shooting into my cheek, and the hurt look on Simon's face. "Y-you said… you said…" is all I can manage, my throat seemingly punishing me for forcing it to form words.
"I know what I said. I regretted it as soon as I did," Simon tells me. I know he genuinely means it. He looks damn near broken himself and he didn't even fall down a flight of stairs.
"Me t-too," I cry. "Not Teddy… you. I love you."
"I know," Simon assures me quietly. He takes my engagement ring from the bedside table and slips it back onto my finger. When I whimper in pain, he shoots a glance at the mediwitch, daring her to tell him that he can't give me my ring back. She stays quiet.
"I was serious about wanting you to keep it," he tells me, kissing my hand gently.
"I know…" I want to tell Simon that I hadn't taken it off until my fall, but I don't have the energy. Maybe he knows.
"Only you can manage to nearly die and still look so beautiful," Simon says, moving a stray hair from my face. He sees me wince and finally restrains himself from touching me.
Simon's lie flatters me. "Oh, please…" I mutter. "I'm horrible."
"How so?" Simon questions, raising his eyebrows like I'm not covered head to toe in bruises and a needle isn't dripping potions into my arm.
"L-look at me."
"I am, and I still see your beautiful face and your beautiful brown eyes. You're very beautiful to me," Simon says sincerely.
I give a small laugh, and instantly feel it in my shitty ribs. "El… eloquent," I manage out, trying to adjust into a position that will ease the pain. No such luck.
The mediwitch clears her throat. "Miss Malfoy needs her rest," she says stiffly.
I've been unconscious for two days. How much more rest could I need? "I'm fine…" I protest.
"She's fine," Simon agrees, defending me.
The mediwitch purses her lips, seeming thoroughly annoyed with Simon and I. I sneak a quick glance at her left hand and realize she probably doesn't know what it's like to be loved the way Simon loves me. "That isn't for you to decide, I'm afraid. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"No," I say. Simon can't leave me. Not again.
Simon turns to me. "I'm not going anywhere as long as you don't want me to," he promises me.
The mediwitch seems to be contemplating whether she wants to crack her clipboard in half or break it over Simon's head. "You don't have that option."
"Y-yes he does…"
"Yes, I very well do."
"No, you don't!" The mediwitch snaps. She sighs and regains her composure. "I'm terribly sorry but Miss Malfoy, for the sake of you and your son, you need your rest."
I blink at the mediwitch a few times, and then look at Simon. He's doing the same thing as me, but in reverse. "If I didn't make it clear by putting a ring on finger, I'm her fiancé, and that's a bloody ridiculous joke," he snarls. My stomach finally does a happy feeling. He's my fiancé again….
The mediwitch frowns at Simon and I as if we're hopelessly stupid children. "Are you not aware that you're expecting, Miss Malfoy?"
"Expecting her to do what?" Simon demands. Suddenly, a look of realization dawns on his face. "Oh, fuck." He wrings his hands.
"What?" I ask, looking between Simon and the mediwitch. Something bad's happened, that's obvious. But what's worse than me being in the hospital?
The mediwitch clears her throat and faces me with an earnest expression. Damn time she acted professionally. "Miss Malfoy, I'm afraid you were unaware, but you're pregnant," she tells me.
If I hadn't hurt myself trying last time, I would have laughed again. What bullshit. Is that some sort of payback because Simon won't leave? I'm pregnant? As if.
"Impossible…" I mutter back, rolling my eyes. Maybe I should rest. These potions aren't making me feel better, but they're apparently making me loopy as hell. Simon looks like he's actually buying into this.
"Take a look." The mediwitch holds a large black panel in front of me. On it are xerographs of what I assume are my bones, considering my name is printed at the top. It should be interesting to see what sorts of damage Hugo and Nina have done to me.
I see my arms, both of them fine except for a small piece of my left arm where the bones don't line up perfectly by a very small bit; a result of the time I broke my arm when I was fourteen. My eyes move down the panel. Two broken ribs that I already found out about. Knowing this is how I look on the inside makes me feel sick again. I smirk to myself as I glance over the image of my abdomen, the only one that moves. Pregnant, I scoff in my head. What utter dragonshit.
Suddenly, I have the urge to die again.
I can see it. My entire stomach is a grey color, except for a black spot in the middle. Inside, there's a tiny white spot, perhaps the size of my thumbprint, that resembles some kind of baby humanoid. I've only seen something like this one other time in my life. That was shortly after Mum found out she was pregnant with Nina. My body runs cold, and I no longer have the desire to laugh.
"It's a miracle your baby is still safe. You took a nasty fall," the mediwitch tells me, setting the panel back. In what world is this a miracle?
"N-no…" I almost wail. I feel the unsettling pressure rising in my chest and before I can do anything to stop myself, I've vomited on the hospital floor. Simon doesn't seem the least bit repulsed. In fact, he looks jealous that his current condition doesn't warrant him to do the same.
Without hesitation, the mediwitch cleans up the floor with her wand.
"How…?" I stammer, trying to recover. "I- no signs." I can't fathom my words into sentences; much less process any of this. When Mum was pregnant with Nina, she knew. She had feelings about it, and she threw up a lot (not due to grotesqueness of injuries), and she had odd hormonal behavior that I assume is normal for a pregnant person. None of that has happened to me. Both Simon and my parents asked me if I was pregnant, and I'd been so certain that wasn't the truth. I just didn't know.
"No two pregnancies are the same," the mediwitch tells me. "Some have symptoms earlier on than others, some have none at all."
Simon opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again.
"You mean to tell me you have the technology to tell us that she's having a boy after one month, but you can't get her out of this hospital?" He questions. I don't know who he's angry at, the mediwitch, me, or himself.
The mediwitch doesn't answer.
I'm still trying to figure out how all of this is possible. One month? Simon and I…oh. I'm reminded of the night of that horrible dinner with Simon's parents. What happened afterward definitely could have caused this. We were anything but careful. But it was only once. Weren't it for bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck.
"Should I leave you two alone to talk a minute?" The mediwitch suggests, sensing the utter shock and confusion between Simon and I.
Simon waves his hand over his shoulder, signaling for her to leave. When the door shuts behind us, I immediately burst into tears. Simon touches my hand gingerly, but doesn't say anything. I know what he's thinking.
"Is there any chance Lupin…" his voice trails off as he notices the expression on my face.
Ignoring the sharp hurt coursing through my neck, I shake my head. Simon doesn't say anything more on the subject. He probably realizes is wouldn't behoove me to lie to him. If this baby doesn't have his blond hair and blue eyes, it will be obvious.
"Sorry," I cry, wishing I could do anything right now other than exist. "Sorry."
"This isn't your fault," Simon says fiercely. "Don't blame yourself for this."
How can I not blame myself? The baby is inside my stomach. Because of my birth, Simon's parents aren't ever going to accept me or this child. Or Simon. And he says it isn't my fault.
I try to calm myself down. Crying is only making my chest hurt and muddling my thoughts even more. Simon seems to be in deep thought as well.
I reach out to tap his arm to get his attention. Slowly he turns to look at me. My lip trembles. "If y-you don't want… we don't have to- I can get rid of-"
"No, you won't." Simon says vehemently. "I won't even entertain such a disgusting thought. Perhaps this is sooner than we planned for, but a child was soon to follow regardless. "
"Your family," I say in a small voice. Simon told me that if he left me, he might be able to reconcile with his family. He seemed hopeful for that, and now it won't ever be possible.
How can Simon be calm about all of this? Of course, he has a well-paying job, and he's nearly four years older than me. We're at different places in our lives.
"But w-we aren't…." I slowly raise my left hand to Simon, reminding him that we've yet to be married. Despite our short falling out, Simon and I still didn't plan to get married for months. That's going to have to change.
"We'll get married soon, whenever you want. It will be perfect," he promises me. "That's the least you deserve."
I'm thankful that Simon's doing his best to comfort me, but I couldn't be any more frightened. Pretty much from the time I understood what had happened to me, I've lived in fear of becoming a mother ever since. Now, I don't have that choice.
Other than being able to afford it, I'm in no way prepared to be a mother, and there isn't anyone I can ask for help. I know immediately that I have to keep this a secret from Mum for as long as I possibly can. She'll be absolutely devastated when I tell her. She was only a year younger than I am now when she had me. If Mum wasn't ready for a child, then I know I'll never be. I don't want anything to happen to my child- my son- that happened to me.
"Love you," I whisper to Simon.
"I love you," he replies in a distracted voice, kissing my forehead. I barely feel it. I want to ask Simon what he's thinking of, but at the same time I don't want to know.
"Sorry," I apologize again before I can help it.
Simon shakes his head. "No apologies, I mean it."
"Sorry." Simon smirks at me, and then I realize what I just said. "I'm sor- Merlin, I'll stop."
"Do you plan to tell your parents?" Simon asks, reading my thoughts.
"After marriage," I answer. "You?"
"Then as well," Simon agrees. His expression is still rather numb. I know he's nervous, but he's trying not to show it for me. "A son…" he mutters absentmindedly under his breath.
My head begins to hurt again, and Simon decides that maybe I should try to sleep some more. After a few embarrassing cries of pain, Simon manages to help me to lie down. Hopefully, the mediwitch can't hear me. Even if every bone in my body was broken and I was having twins, I'd still be happier without her.
I hear Simon take a seat in the chair at the other side of my hospital bed. He doesn't say anything for a while, and neither do I. I lay there with my eyes closed, trying not to focus anymore on any of my pain. When I don't, the potions seem to be working just a bit.
"I'm relieved that you're safe," Simon says in a quiet voice. He must figure I'm asleep. "I wouldn't want anyone else to be the mother of my child."
Even though I know I can't, I try to smile because Simon can't see me. He may have his less-than-desirable qualities, but I don't doubt him. If he can be this loving toward me, then he can be a great father and husband. I only hope all this won't cause him to compare himself to Eric. Simon will be twice the father his brother is.
I wish I could be completely happy, but I can't. Whether or not Simon's a good father, I'm still going to be this baby's mother. Our families are still going to be disappointed and angry with us. And, worst of all, I won't be with my family much longer. I'll have to start my own. The thought of that hurts worse than falling down stairs.
*(A/N: Surprise! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I've been so excited to write it! Thought's on Belle's pregnancy? Thoughts on any reactions? Leave a review! Thanks for reading!