63. Denial

I got back to Hogwarts as the light was fading from the sky. Walking over the viaduct bridge, I took in the beauty of the castle, begging its familiar silhouette to bring me under the warm wings of normalcy which Ginny had suggested Victoire's birth might bring. I'd excused myself from Shell Cottage soon after my revelation, feigning exhaustion after a long and busy week. The truth was that my whole body was fizzling with anxiety, and it kept me from taking in the view which might have calmed me.

The students were in their common rooms by now, so there was nothing to keep me from oscillating in the entryway. I shivered under the stone gaze of the knights in their rows, and the light which flickered from the candles in the deserted great hall did nothing to warm me.

I felt as though I had committed a terrible sin, and didn't know whether to go downstairs to Severus and confess. Had the evening gone as planned, I would have joined him and we would have spent the night together, seeing as tomorrow was Saturday. But the thought of being near him, being touched, now frightened me.

The memory of Fleur so gently cradling her newborn baby made me feel like I was about to be ill. I pressed my hand to my belly, breathing deeply as I reasoned with myself. I couldn't be pregnant. Probably, my cycle was only being delayed by the stress of my new position as a teacher. Yes, that must be it. I had been late before, mostly during the war. The cause was stress then, and it was the same now…

My feet began walking up the grand staircase, rather than down into the narrow darkness of the dungeon. I knew Severus would be expecting me, but tomorrow I would use the same excuse of exhaustion I had given to Molly. Tomorrow I would wake up and all of this would have been a bad dream.

The weekend was awful.

Severus knocked on the door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts bedroom after breakfast. I woke up groggily from a very long sleep. The empty vial of Dreamless Sleep was lying next to me on the bed, two tiny purple specks of dried potion on the sheets, and I'd tossed and turned leaving the blankets and my hair tangled. Severus had climbed the stairs with breakfast on a tray, so there was no escaping him.

"Why did you not come last night?" he said.

I sat with a trembling stomach across from him at the desk, the birds chirping outside.

"I'm sorry," I replied, my voice even and distant. "I was exhausted and I just needed to collapse."

"You might have collapsed with me."

"I didn't want to disturb you."

There was a moment of silence as he buttered my toast. "You are a miserable liar," he said casually. My heartbeat spiked, but he made no further comment.

Before noon we went down to London to visit Andromeda in St. Mungo's. Her room was small, and the walls were painted a faint teal blue. The single small window let in the cloudy September light, and it fell upon the hospital blanket which betrayed the shape of her thin legs. There was a tiny vase of tiny white flowers, which I figured Molly had left when she'd last visited. They were charmed to stay fresh, but I knew that without the magic they'd have wilted.

I sat in the hard wooden chair in the corner while Severus searched Andromeda's mind.

It was where I usually sat, letting my eyes wander over the colour of the walls, the window panes. But today my thoughts were impossible to escape. I watched Severus hunched over Andromeda, his eyes closed and his face deeply focused. There was a twist of powerful fear in my gut. I'd been keeping my worries at bay all morning, but there was still no sign of my cycle arriving. None of the moodiness and pain I usually experienced in the two or three days leading up to it…

"Your mind is very loud," Severus said, his voice quiet but tense. Had I been anyone else, he would have snapped at me. "If you can't control it, please leave the room."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and went out the door at once.

I leaned against the wall in the bright white corridor, trembling. I knew that he would never deliberately read my thoughts without my permission, unless I was in danger. But in his focused searching of Andromeda's memories, it must have been hard for him to tune out the presence of my overactive mind. The corridor was completely quiet but for the occasional footsteps of the nurses.

Severus stepped out after some time. "Finished," he said, and I knew from his tone of voice that there had been no progress.

"I'd like a minute with her," I said.

I sensed that it was important not to leave yet, and I was right. I had only been sitting at Andromeda's side for a minute when a pinprick of blue light appeared over her chest, and slowly unfurled into a patronus–a small robin. I did not recognise it, or the voice it emitted, but I realised as I listened that the message must have come from Gabriel, the man Andromeda had been meeting in France before the attack. He had a beautiful voice, with an accent any lover would have delighted in listening to.

"Ma chérie. I have not heard from you in so very long. I have left you alone until now, but my heart requires me to speak at last."

"A lover?" Severus asked, standing in the doorway. I nodded. His mouth twitched. "How… French."

Gabriel's voice continued. "I have come to the inn every Saturday in hopes that you might arrive. The sight of you is my deepest desire, and the sound of your voice fills my dreams."

Severus made a derisive sound. "Shh!" I said, continuing to listen raptly.

"If you do not wish to see me again, I will understand, and will never bother you again. But I wish for you to know that our meetings were the most wonderful time on earth. Je t'aime. Gabriel."

"Wait!" I exclaimed. I stood up, my hand pressed over Andromeda's. I felt that I had to say something on her behalf. I was afraid that the patronus would disappear, but the robin looked at me curiously, and lingered.

"I'm a friend of Andromeda's," I said, praying that the patronus might deliver my message back to Gabriel. "She's told me about you. She was… she has been sleeping all these months. There was an attack, and she cannot be woken up. She has not been able to visit you again, or I am sure she would. You can write to me, and maybe we can find a way for you to see her. My name is Wilma Weasley. Send your owl to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The robin chirped softly, and then disappeared in a furl of blue sparks.

The sudden emptiness of the room, and Andromeda's complete unawareness of her lover's plea, made me begin quite suddenly to cry.

I hid my face in shame, feeling Severus's judgemental gaze. I remembered how suddenly I had cried upon reading the Prophet yesterday, and how Bill had once excused Fleur's frequent crying spells. "Hormones."

My crying grew harder.

"We should be on our way," Severus said, his voice hard and cold.

I was no fool. Though I'd done my best to keep my patronuses to Remus a secret from Severus, I was sure that he knew I was sending them. It was true that Gabriel's patronus had reminded me of my own, and I understood that Severus had also made this connection. My tears were hot. At least Gabriel would receive an answer, an explanation!

I felt my emotions threatening to leave my control, so I firmly harnessed them and wiped away my tears, standing up and walking out the door. Severus followed behind me without a word.

Throughout the meeting of the Order in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Molly kept giving me the deep and searching look I'd noticed when we'd met at Shell Cottage. After dinner, I escaped the table to wash my face upstairs. On my way I overheard Hermione talking to Ginny in another room, and the snatches of the words "...so glad to have my period…" were enough to make me take the stairs at a silently-sobbing run.

"Are you going to tell me what is wrong?" Severus said, as we walked from the Three Broomsticks back to the castle.

"It's nothing," I lied.

Guilt pinched me nonstop for the rest of the day.

On Sunday at breakfast I received a letter carried by a soft-feathered barn owl. It was from Gabriel, and I fed his owl well while I read it.

Dear kind stranger,

I am sorry for the delay in my writing. Your news came as a shock. What was the nature of this attack? Where is Andromeda now?

Merci,

Gabriel Gauthier

I sent a response back with his owl, explaining the attack by the shapeshifting creature, and telling him that Andromeda was being cared for in St. Mungo's hospital. I gave him Molly's name and address, knowing that she would be able to help him arrange a visit, and would perhaps accompany him.

"You've eaten very little," Severus criticised when he entered the great hall.

"I'm fine," I urged.

But he was right, and as I recognised my lack of appetite as a symptom of the unimaginable, my wall of denial crumbled just a bit more.

My first years were in a fidgety mood on Monday. One of the seventh years, in a moment of absentmindedness, spoiled a row of leeches through incorrect dicing. My third years were brewing Shrinking Solution and one of the boys had to be sent to the hospital wing after adding the caterpillars before the daisy roots.

I continued to deny what my body knew deep down, waiting for my cycle to start. I avoided Trelawney like the plague. My thoughts were frequently invaded by the cards she'd read for me; particularly the queen of wands and her little black cat. Trelawney had said the card symbolised fertility. If the cards had been right about this, then how much more had they been right about?

But they weren't right, my stubbornness insisted. They weren't right. Another day, and you'll bleed again.

Tuesday dawned bleakly, autumn clouds obscuring the sky and sun. I had fifth years first, the class including Malcolm Baddock and Dennis Creevey. My nerves were terribly on edge, and I hoped that one of the students might perfectly prepare the Draught of Peace, so I could take some at the end of the hour.

The brewing couldn't have been more than two minutes underway when Baddock began whispering. His partner was, yet again, Graham Pritchard, and I soon regretted that I had lacked the good sense to split them up.

"Damned shame isn't it, Shacklebolt's decision being approved? I know I go against the current to say it, but somebody's got to remain sensible. The man's a fool. He's not done a bit of good, has he? I'd have thought this misstep would have put him out at last, but it doesn't look like it. Complete bollocks, giving half-breeds equal status."

"Shut it, Baddock." It was Dennis Creevey, his brown eyes spiteful as he chastised his classmate from across the room. "Save your pureblood talk for your pureblood friends."

"There's plenty you have yet to understand about our world, muggle-born," Baddock spat.

I felt frozen, but managed to speak. "Pureblood supremacy and slander of werewolves will not be tolerated in this classroom, or in this school."

Baddock's eyes were terrible, sharp and laughing. "I find it strange you're so defensive of werewolves, Professor. Though perhaps I shouldn't, knowing you were fucking one."

Every student in the room stopped working and looked from Baddock to me in varying degrees of shock. I had figured that not many students knew about my past marriage to Remus. Indeed, few seemed aware of my present marriage to Severus. But now it would surely spread around the school like wildfire.

"DETENTION, Mr. Baddock," I said, relishing the words. "And twenty points from Slytherin."

There was not a single groan of disappointment from the Slytherins. They knew he deserved it.

But Baddock didn't seem too bothered by the punishment. He turned to Pritchard, who had edged slightly away from him. "She's probably one of them now, too. I've heard they have to bite their mates in bed, it's compulsive."

The only sound in the room was that of the Draught of Peace coming to a boil in the ten cauldrons.

My voice came out of me with a strength and authority that was surprising even to myself. "Collect your things, Mr. Baddock." It was a teacher's voice, and the sound of it gave me confidence. "Mr. Pritchard, you are free to continue at your station alone, or join Mr. Creevey and Mr. Amott."

Baddock slowly collected his belongings from his desk, the apathetic expression never slipping from his face. The darker side of me wanted to call on Filch, and allow the infamous caretaker to discipline the boy as he saw fit. Tossing a pinch of floo powder into the fire, I instead sent a message to the headmistress's office.

"McGonagall, I have a fifth year in need of a lesson in respect." I had already brought up the issue of Malcolm Baddock's behaviour in a staff meeting, and was certain she would infer which student I meant.

The fire flared a deeper green and Minerva's voice came through. "Send them to me immediately."

"In you go," I said to Baddock. He stepped into the fire and disappeared a moment later, the hint of an imperturbable smirk on his face.

I turned back to the class. Every student was watching me, except for one or two, who were attempting to focus on their work, looking mortified.

"Well?" I said. "Back to work."

To my relief, Pritchard left his station and joined the two Gryffindor boys. I inspected the progress in the abandoned cauldron. Seeing that there was nothing amiss, I finished the potion myself, to ensure myself a dose of peace once the class was dismissed. I made my rounds between each step, and could't help but notice that one or two students gave me a bit more room than usual when I bent over to inspect their cauldrons. I was full of hatred for the Baddock boy. Not only had he personally insulted me, but he had lost me respect in my own classroom. I would speak with Minerva later, to arrange a sufficiently grim detention.

After testing each finished potion and bidding the fifth years good day, I called for Dennis Creevey to stay behind. He nodded to Amott, who was the last out the door.

"No need to sit down, Dennis," I said. He looked at me, seeming guilty. "I want to thank you for your intentions today, but I must warn you against making a habit of provoking Baddock and his likes. Your courage will be vital in overcoming the old prejudices, but whilst you are in school, you can trust me to take disciplinary matters into my own hands. I don't want you to face challenges outside of class."

"Yes, Professor," Dennis said. There was an understanding look in his eye, but beneath it sizzled a lingering anger from his exchange with Baddock earlier. We both knew that had Baddock not feared expulsion, the comparatively tame address of 'muggle-born' would surely have been replaced by the mudblood slur.

He started for the door, but paused on his way out. "Was it true?" he asked.

I felt a coiling in my stomach, a faint nausea.

"Yes," I said. "For three months I was married to Remus Lupin. No, I am not a werewolf."

Dennis nodded his head and left the room, the door creaking slowly closed behind him. My nausea intensified as I recalled Baddock's words.

"She's probably one of them now, too. I've heard they have to bite their mates in bed, it's compulsive."

I would not allow the memories of my relationship with Remus to be defiled. I strode over to the abandoned cauldron, submerged a vial, and swallowed the steaming contents before I could lose my composure to tears.

The full moon was the following Saturday, the twenty-fifth of September. I'd denied Severus's advances over the previous two days, but finally had to relent on the final night of my fertile window.

The moonlight flooded into his dungeon room through the window, forbidding me to forget about Remus, and that full-moon night many months ago which had left me in the same condition I had now been forced to admit I was in. I had been late before, but never this late.

As Severus's hands roamed over my body, as his fingers worked between my folds, as his kisses attempted to draw some familiar passion from me, all I could feel was anger and disgust. I didn't want to be pregnant. I felt that my body had betrayed me. In a moment of helpless, throbbing heat, I had the unpleasant impression that I could feel the second heartbeat which resided in my womb. Though I knew it was only my imagination, the mere thought made me burst into tears.

Severus growled in frustration as I covered my face with my hands and tried to roll away from him. But his hands kept me in place against his body, his erection buried deep inside of me, his hips weighing down my open legs. His fingers prized my hands away from my face and his eyes were inescapable and afflicting. "Something has been wrong with you since the child was born. Do you believe you're undesirable to me?"

Under other circumstances his words might have made me blush. But now his tone was rough and accusing, and the sound of it forced another strangled sob.

He growled again, but more faintly; a long-suffering sigh. I shut my eyes to the sudden pity which showed through his impatience, and turned my face away, into the pillow. His hand attempted to brush away my tears, and his voice was softer. The sensation of him stretching me was more pronounced and overwhelming. "Is this about… your loss?"

A hot pang of anger tore through my belly. "For Merlin's sake finish, Severus!" I pleaded, my voice strained. "I don't want to talk about this right now!"

There was tension in the air as I tolerated his final few thrusts, gasping through my tears as he finally came with a shudder.

Pressing his shoulders away, I at last got out from underneath him. I felt his semen on my skin and, my body weak with dejection, I stood and wrapped myself in my dressing gown. I hid in the shadows from the moonlight, but Severus's eyes were more than capable of seeking me out. "It does not distress me," he said.

"Only because it was his child that I lost!"

There was a painful moment of silence. I didn't want to take my emotions out on him, but I couldn't refrain from doing so as long as I insisted on keeping my secret.

Severus was clearly fighting to remain gentle. "I can see it still upsets you."

With a gasp of frustration and anguish I let myself sink to the floor, hiding my face from him and hugging my knees.

He looked at me with biting certainty in his eyes. "You blame me for it."

"What?"

"I'm the one who made you fall. In the woods, when you went after that wolf."

I shook my head, desperate to correct this grave misunderstanding. "Severus, I never blamed you!"

He turned his head away, clearly not believing me.

You need to tell him, spoke my inner voice of reason.

There was another long silence. Severus stood and slowly put on his dressing gown. I watched the muscles in his forearms moving in the pale moonlight and shadow and winced as I spoke. "What if… What if it had been yours? How would you feel then?"

He turned to me with white-hot suspicion in his eyes. I felt that the implication in my question had been quite clear, but Severus seemed to have derived an entirely different meaning from my words.

"Was he there?" he said, his voice soft and seething.

"No!" I protested. "Why the fuck would he have been?"

Wrong thing to say.

I felt a sharp twist of fear in my chest as Severus strode to me and pulled me roughly from the floor by my wrists, pinning me against the wall. His eyes demanded the full truth, and the knowledge that I was, in fact, keeping it from him, brought on a fresh wave of panicked tears.

"Did you see him?" he said, his voice rising dangerously.

"Please! Stop!"

"Have you heard from him?"

"You know I haven't!"

I sobbed hopelessly, my shoulder blades as weak and limp as leaves. He looked into my eyes, interrogating them, and I was terrified for a moment that he might search my mind. But he did not. His grip on my wrists loosened and he drew away, giving me air.

"I'm sorry," he said, unable to conceal the bitterness which lay beneath the words.

It came out of me at last in a strangled whisper. "I'm late for my period."

His face clenched.

"What?"

I moaned in frustration, gasping to keep control of my voice. "I–"

"I heard you."

I watched him, fearful, as he slowly turned and steadied himself against the windowsill.

"How long?" he asked.

"More than a week. No… More than two."

I held my breath as he looked out on the grounds, silent. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Severus, I hear that two weeks is enough to be quite sure."

He turned from the window and knelt down to put on his socks. I resented my feelings of disgrace and self-disgust as I realised that he had not looked at me since I'd told him.

"I'm going to come with you, upstairs." It was not an offer, and left no room for argument.

All the way to the hospital wing, I fought to contain my misery. Severus walked a few steps ahead of me, his posture betraying nothing of what was going on in his head. The fear of coming across a student was so overwhelming that by the time we'd reached our destination, all of my turbulent emotions had receded behind a mask of complete numbness.

Poppy's reaction to my face told me I must have still looked quite stricken, and the light of the full moon in the air surely showed the dried tracks of my tears. She was far from oblivious to Severus's presence, but made no observation as she directed me to lie down as usual, and to open my knees. Severus sat on a chair by the cot, holding my limp hand.

I didn't even wince as Poppy completed the internal examination. She wrote something down, and then waved her wand slowly over my belly, as she always did, to check for a baby.

"I will make the assumption that you know already…" she said, her voice reflecting our anxious wordlessness. "You're pregnant."

I felt nothing. Severus's hand was still and unchanging around my own.

"I will give you a minute alone."

Severus's weight lowering the thin mattress was the first change I was aware of. He brought my strengthless body up to his, and hugged me close. His voice was painfully steady, as though I had just pierced his heart with a hateful word, and he had retreated behind his shield.

"I am not going to leave you."

My numbness gave way for a single moment to spitefulness. "Don't say things like that," I heard myself say. "I know you're not him. I don't need to be reminded."

The guilt at the bitterness of my words, the memory of waking up to find that Remus had left me, the memory of the miscarriage, and the inescapable nature of my condition, made it suddenly very hard to breathe. I felt trapped by Severus's arms, and I gasped shallowly, my head going numb.

Poppy returned with a basin full of cold water and a cloth. "Submerge your hands and wrists," she instructed, placing the basin on the bedside table.

I whimpered, helpless against the waves of the growing panic attack. Severus held me from behind and helped me to manoeuvre to the edge of the cot. His hands wrapped around my forearms and led my shaking hands under the very cold water. It felt at first like a hundred frozen needles were piercing my skin, but the sensation brought immediate relief.

Poppy soaked the cloth, squeezed it, and handed it to Severus. "The back of her neck," she said.

Severus lifted my hair and pressed the cloth to the back of my neck.

He stayed with me, saying not a word. I could sense his emotions, but was incapable of naming a single one of them. They were just as chaotic as my own. I focused on breathing until my lungs were finally able to expand again, and held my hands and wrists under the water until I began to shiver. Then Poppy lifted my half-numbed hands into the air, Severus removed the cloth, and Poppy dried me off.

Able to breathe again, I felt a sense of safety. His limbs surrounding mine. His chest steady behind me. And then I remembered the tiny seed of chaos that slept inside of me, and my body sacrificed itself to slow, deep sobs.

I shook my head slowly, protesting against fate. "I don't want to," I moaned, though we all knew there was nothing that could be done.

Poppy's face was tight, her frown deep and controlled as her quill moved efficiently over her note to the Ministry. Severus held me tightly, his shushing sounds like waves in my ears. I wanted him to tell me how he felt. To give me some reassurance. But he seemed unable to do so.

I desired nothing more than to escape the weak trembling of my body.

"Let me sleep," I whispered. "Please. Please."

Poppy finished writing and brought a strong dose of Dreamless Sleep. Severus uncorked the vial and pressed it to my lips, his palm carefully cradling the side of my face. I drew a ragged breath, swallowed the potion with a weak cough, leaned back against his chest with a final sob of defeat, and sank into darkness.