She had been a 'child' by the standards of many when she first meet him. But she hadn't been an 'innocent' in any sense of the word save one when she decided that maybe throwing caution to the winds for a few hours just to get away from it all was worth a chance.

She was a week away from fifteen when she found out that she was pregnant.

The only reason she had even given the odd teen she met a shot was because he didn't believe any of the bullshit about her and she had been clinically depressed upon realizing the idiots who called her their savior would never leave her alone and expected her to save them. So if she decided doing something stupid and taking a personal risk was worth it.

Most girls her age would have panicked the second they realized that a few hours indiscretion had gotten them pregnant. Even if the fact that it had brought her some measure of happiness that no one could remotely take from her had made it worth it. The boy who only called himself "Luc" had been good.

She was not most girls.

She could handle not being able to sleep properly for hours...she just needed to steal or buy a time turner. She could afford all the things a child would need, like diapers or medicines. She was responsible, and would never even remotely consider putting it up for adoption.

For once in her life, she had a reason to live. If not for herself, then for the life she had realized was growing inside her.

The trick was to hide the fact she was now pregnant from the others. If she wanted to give her child a chance, then she needed to start planning before it was born.

No way in hell was she staying in Europe. Not while there was the high chance of war coming on.

As it turned out, her bad habit of wearing slightly too large clothes turned out to be a big help. It also didn't help that she identified her condition early enough that she instinctively knew she had to hide it.

She kept up the charade that everything was normal after she was taken to the Order, and did her best to avoid Hermione. She spent several years in the same dorm as the nosy girl, so it was more likely she would pick up on anything unusual...like morning sickness.

Which was why the first chance she had, she snuck out of the house, went to a library, and looked up home remedies so she could avoid that particular headache. She found several innocuous things she could snack on that would make it more difficult for Hermione to realize something was off. She found a diet plan that made it easier for first time mothers, and since she knew where the house elves were she could make special orders. It didn't hurt that she preferred a more 'healthy' meal plan compared to the rest of the school to begin with.

A few alterations, and she had a decent way to hide the fact she had gotten knocked up.


It was official. She hated Hogwarts and every living person in it. Don't get her wrong, it had been a source of sanctuary for her from her horrid home life...but now that she had a reason to give a damn about her own life she realized that Hogwarts wasn't that big a step up from Privet Drive.

The teachers seemed to hold her on a pedestal of her parent's accomplishments, or cursed her for being their daughter, in the case of Snape.

The Headmaster was a senile old bastard who though forcing her to endure more time with Snape was an acceptable idea, never mind that they had never gotten along even once. They quickly agreed to pretend like she was actually attending said lessons while they each did their own thing. Phoebe would spend the 'lessons' in the deeper portions of the library while Snape brewed his potions.

The students were torn about how to feel about her. Some thought she was a liar (the Ministry camp), some thought she was a poster girl for the light (the Dumbledore camp), some believed she was a typical Gryffindor who just got lucky (the Death Eater camp) and a very, very few actually bothered to get to know her even remotely (her camp).

And to top things off, the Daily Prophet had apparently decided to start a smear campaign just because Dumbledore thought it was a smart idea to crow to the ramparts Voldemort was back. Despite lack of evidence and a clear 'head in the sand' approach from both Minister and most of magical England. Until Voldemort made a public move, no one wanted to believe he was back save for those that took the headmaster's word as gospel.

It came as an overdue shock when she realized that no matter how this conflict ended, her entire life would be on parade for the masses.

And that was something she refused to accept. Especially not while she had a child that by her calculations would be due in December to think about.

And with such crystal clarity, she began to plot her long overdue departure from the magical community. These fools used magic as a toy...she had long since learned to put away such childish things.

She needed a fresh start. And if that meant making a clean break from magic, then so be it.

To do that she needed funding. Funding that couldn't be traced back to her parent's vaults.

Time to bleed the pure bloods dry of their gold.


Hermione worried about her friend.

"Phoebe, how are you feeling?"

The raven-haired girl turned her attention towards Hermione, who flinched openly. There was a penetrating quality in her gaze...a sort of clarity that Hermione never expected. It shook her to the core.

"I'm fine...or as fine as one can be with Snape ripping your mental shields apart in an attempt to teach you how to make new ones," deadpanned Phoebe in a flat tone. Her entire demeanor had shifted after the first few lessons. She went from her usual self to withdrawn and exhausted. And she flinched at loud noises.

She had to quit the team because she kept feeling like she was about to fall off her broom from lack of sleep.

A visit to the mediwitch forced the issue, to Katie's dismay. Phoebe had to have a full month of proper sleep before she was allowed to play again.

Something that was becoming increasingly difficult because of the 'lessons' with Snape.

She had always been quiet about anything wrong, but Hermione was starting to fear for her friend's mental health. She was afraid that Voldemort was using her weakened shields to send more visions.

A concern she shared with Dumbledore. A concern that he had waived off without much to explain why.

He still refused to let Phoebe quit her private lessons with Snape though.

Hermione's trust of the headmaster was starting to waiver...but by the time it was shattered it would be far too late for her to stop her 'friend'.

"Are you sure? I mean with how Umbridge has been trying to rip your support base apart and Snape's lesson, you've been looking a little off."

"I'm fine. Pomphrey checked me out after Katie threw a fuss when I had to resign because I was having trouble staying awake while flying."

"Phoebe..."

"Hermione, when you've lived even a fraction of my life, then you get a vote in how I live it. And right now I'm telling you to leave me the hell alone."

Hermione winced.

"It's just...you've changed."

"It's call puberty. In case you haven't noticed I was a late bloomer and it doesn't help that I've been under a lot of stress lately," said Phoebe.

Hermione considered that...and it made so much sense to her that she immediately ignored any other possibilities. Teenage rebellion wasn't that odd and it explained a lot of things about Phoebe she'd noticed in the past few months. She seemed to relax.

"So where have you been the past few nights?"

"High stakes poker."

"What."

"Can you think of a better way to drain the pure bloods dry before Riddle gets a chance to use their vaults for his own gain?" said Phoebe amused.

"But the risk..."

"Is worth the gain. My reputation doesn't mean a damn thing in a poker game. And it's a better use of my time than trying to write the Toad's essays."

Hermione threw her hands up in frustration...but now that the 'mystery' of why Phoebe had been acting strangely had been 'solved', she had no more interest in the matter.

And her friend absolutely refused to enlighten her about the truth.

Phoebe turned away...and hid a smug smirk in the shadows of her face.

Hermione was too limited, too narrow minded. She would react like she had been taught and blab to the first authority figures she could find about her condition. Ron wasn't much better either.

Phoebe refused to allow the 'adults' to have a say in her live ever again, even if it meant cutting ties that had only recently formed.

The sad fact of the matter was that she had acted more like a responsible adult since she was eleven than most of the full-grown witches and wizards had since she entered this world.

It had only made her disdain for magic grow.

And in the back of her mind, the whispers that kept her awake at night grew the slightest bit louder.

Whispers that sounded almost exactly like the boy she had taken to her bed several months ago.

A voice that she was beginning to suspect belonged to something other than human...and yet at the same time she found she couldn't bring herself to care if that fact were true.

It was becoming increasingly harder to hide the bulge. Thankfully the fact she openly preferred to eat in the kitchens meant that no one noticed her increased appetite...or the variety she ate. It was true what they said about the cravings. Fortunately there were two house elves who were more than happy to bind themselves to her family.

Dobby and Winky were the only ones who knew of her condition. As such, she had made them swear not to say anything to anyone inside...or outside...the castle unless she allowed it.

And considering how she felt about the rest of the idiots in Europe, that wasn't happening anytime soon.

Dobby looked particularly excited about caring for the next generation of Potter. So much so that he accidentally brought in several other elves from the last remaining Potter estate in so they could be retied to the next Head of the Potter family.

Phoebe was just glad Dobby and Winky had plenty of experience with pregnant witches. They were able to make the most random combinations and smuggled it into the common room where she was able to eat in peace. And the twins had been able to brew a perfect aging potion for after the child was born.

Teenage mothers got such a bad rap, because most teenagers were irresponsible and unable to cope with the fact they had brought a new life into the world. They were so wrapped up in themselves that they had trouble readjusting their lives around their new child.

That wasn't a problem for Phoebe. She never had a set goal in life, she was planning to drain the same bastards who harassed her dry of their money, and the idea of giving all her focus on raising her child wasn't something that bothered her.

She could use some direction in life, so why not being a mother?

The harder thing was hiding her condition from Snape, who had grown increasingly suspicious after she had to hurriedly hide a bad reaction to a potion they were brewing that day. She looked it up later and found out by accident that the fumes often caused those who were pregnant to become highly nauseous.

After that she made sure to study any potions that would cause a bad reaction in pregnant witches, and then make sure she had the counter to them beforehand.

What she didn't know was that the wards around the school had alerted the headmaster almost immediately upon her return that one of the girls in the school was with child.

Dumbledore was currently out on the hunt for the witch, and had Madam Pomfrey ready to deal with the aftermath. Particularly the adoption, because there wasn't any doubt in his mind that the foolish girl would rather move on with her education than be tied down with a child.

He already had several families in mind who could take in a newborn magical child, though he would have to find the witch first.

Unfortunately for him, Phoebe had the elves go outside the castle to buy the required potions straight from St. Mungo's. She had realized early on that no one ever paid attention to the house elves.

If anything most people assumed Narcissa was pregnant again. Dobby had been the one to buy the potions last time before Draco was born.

Very few were aware that Dobby served a new master, and even fewer cared.

Phoebe's open disdain for the Toad meant she was avoiding any areas the woman might go to. She had become a regular sight in the deeper portions of the library...places one would have to climb up several steep ladders just to get to.

She could not wait until Christmas.

Her feet hurt, her back was killing her, and she had to be careful about hiding the massive bulge in her stomach. Thankfully a few well placed notice-me-not charms around her abdomen did wonders, as did the fact she was used to worse. A lot worse.

It was clear her daughter...a diagnostic charm she found in the library had been able to tell her the gender without involving the medi-witch... was going to be due.

Knowing her luck the girl would have the worst timing imaginable and come right when they were planning to celebrate Christmas.

Which meant she would have to time her escape so she could get to a muggle hospital and hope like hell they didn't ask too many questions.


She was sleeping for once when the vision hit. One minute she was in a dreamless sleep, the next she saw Mr. Weasley being attacked.

She shot up as best she could, then sent Dobby to get McGonagall.

"Ms. Potter, what seems to be the matter?" asked McGonagall in the common room.

"Mr. Weasley was just attacked. I don't know where he was, just that there was a lot of glass orbs and a snake involved. Whatever did this wasn't playing around...I saw a lot of blood," said Phoebe flatly.

McGonagall paled.

"Give me a moment. I suggest you pack your things for Grimmauld place in any case."

Five minutes later the Weasley children, Hermione and Phoebe were packed and rushed straight to the Black Ancestral home.

She managed to hold her stomach down during the entire ride through the Floo, but it was a near thing. All that spinning had not done her any favors.

Once in the house, she found her 'room' and promptly went back to sleep. They'd find out in the morning if Mr. Weasley was alright.


The next morning

It was official. She had to leave soon, or she'd be busted by the overbearing woman known as Molly Weasley. Mrs. Weasley had been keeping an sharp eye on her since she heard the news she hadn't been feeling well all year, and assumed that puberty had hit the girl badly.

Thankfully her charm work was holding up, as was the fact that no one had figured out the reason why she was wearing clothing slightly too large. And thanks to years of hiding the fact she was in pain, no one realized anything.

And to their relief, Mr. Weasley was going to be fine. They were going to visit him the next day once he was more or less stable. Phoebe's warning had given them enough time to rush him to the hospital.

Still...Mrs. Weasley was giving her certain looks that said she was beginning to suspect something wasn't quite right with Phoebe.

Remus wasn't much better. He could smell the change in Phoebe, but because it was so faint he couldn't figure out what.

And after seeing Mr. Weasley in the hospital, Phoebe knew now was the best time to leave. This close to the end was a time she really couldn't afford to be caught in a lie.

Thankfully no one noticed her slip past the party to grab her already packed bag. She timed her departure from the house perfectly...everyone was in the kitchen eating, Moody wasn't anywhere near the house, and Remus was indisposed because of the full moon. He had to go into his small cabin under lock and key since it was too dangerous to have him in the Order. And Dumbledore was too busy with the school to visit at the moment and wouldn't be due tomorrow.

She even arranged it to make it look like she was having a nap. No one would realize anything until someone went to wake her up, and thanks to the carefully created lie she had been having trouble sleeping for months, it was unlikely anyone would figure it out until well into noon when Dumbledore came.

With her charm work, the cab driver didn't realize she was a teenager. He drove her to the hotel closest to a nice hospital that was within walking distance of the Leaky Cauldron.

A few blocks was nothing compared to the peace of mind of being able to finally leave and never look back.

The moment she sat on the bed, she was able to relax.

No one knew she was gone. No one knew of her condition. And absolutely no one knew where she was. A simple finite had taken care of the trace, and she wasn't above magicking anyone to get past the hospital.