I had to tell him. It had been more than a month since I had told Angelina, and I could tell that she was getting more annoyed by the day, and though I could see why, I just whished that she would show me some understanding. A girl barely 18 should not have to deal with telling her fiancé that she was nearly 2 months pregnant. Too young. Too soon.
Whatever morning sickness I had been feeling had come back worse than ever in the past week, and Fred was worried that I had some rare form of wizard flu that he had read about in fourth year, insisting that I go to St Mungos as quickly as possible so as not to risk a slow and painful death as he so eloquently put over dinner the previous night. This only meant that I would have to tell him, and before he took matters into his own hands.
Sitting curled up on the sofa with a mug of tea in my hands, I just imagined what it would mean if everything had happened when we were just a few years older, just 2 years would make all the difference, yes we would still be young, but it would be more accepted and the baby wouldn't have to deal with all the crap he might with parents so young. It couldn't be helped though, there was no pause button, or something to fast forward to when everything would be sorted and fine, when Voldemort was dead and gone, and we could get married and live happily ever after. That couldn't happen though, there wouldn't be that for us, but we could still be happy. After I tell him.
I need to tell him. Before I find an excuse not to. Before I actually go into labour would also be good.
"Freddie?" I called out down the hallway, the window behind me letting in a warm draft that seemed to carry my voice along the halls. A loud bang that was followed my swear words rung back, drawing a chuckle from me.
"Yep." His pained voice carried to me, as he hobbled through the small doorway. I raised an eyebrow at him, only for him to reply "box, foot, not fun." He plopped himself down beside me on the small couch, propping his feet onto the coffee table on the small green rug, nothing in the flat really matched, all strange and oddly coloured, not fitting together.
Suddenly my nerves trapped any words in my throat, "Want a cuppa?" I practically leapt from my spot beside him, rushing around the small island to where the kettle sat on the side, placing my still half full mug down beside me, staring at the lukewarm liquid. Gripping the side so hard my knuckles went pale in an attempt to stop them from shaking, I took a deep breath in an attempt to steady my nerves.
"Um, sure?" he looked confused, but who can really blame him? I wasn't acting anywhere close to normal, and I think he was just about starting to notice.
I would use the mug thing, that's how my mum had told my grandparents that she was pregnant with Sophie, just tweak it a little, and it wasn't hard to transfigure the Plain green mug that we only used as a last resort. Easy. If I could remember the spell, or any spell at all. Picking up a "permanent" marker I tried to write it as neatly as I could on the curved surface, then fixing the tea as normal, trying to steady my hands so as not to spill the hot liquid down myself. Sitting down beside him, I handed him the mug and waited for him to notice, every second drawn out as his eyes flickered to the writing. A slow look of realisation crossed his features.
Slowly he turned and placed both of our mugs on the table, turning back to me with the widest grin I had ever seen on him, or anyone else for that matter; I felt his arms wrap around me as he lifted us both off of the sofa, swinging me around in his arms. "I'm gonna be a dad?" his big brown eyes searched me for any sign of a lie, when I nodded I could feel tear welling up in my eyes, not the same sad tears that I had shed before, but tears of joy. "I'm gonna be a Dad." He was yelling it as he swung me around in circles in the small living room, "we are gonna have a baby." He stopped spinning and put his hand on my stomach, there was barely a bump but I saw the smile it drew on his face. And it made everything seem okay.