CW: This chapter contains speculations of sexual assault and discussions of pro-choice vs abortion.

Wednesday January 19th, 1994

Hootini arrived with the day's mail. Leaving the Prophet wrapped, Melissa took her morning coffee and opened up the sole muggle letter - addressed from her Aunt Sophie.

Dear Melissa,

I'm glad you're adjusting to the new term. Jeff and Maggie are happy to hear you were able to go back to school. They send their love and their thanks for the gift you sent.

Things at home are going well. My brother visited recently after taking a trip to America. He brought some lovely souvenirs: a popular perfume bottle and jewellery that, while not my style, will suit Maggie well when she's older. John was delighted with his own gifts, of course; while Jeff would prefer video games. That boy may become spoiled if I'm not careful.

I look forward to your next letter.

With love,

Aunt Sophie

Melissa nodded over the letter and the words translated in her mind. The basilisk venom sold well and the buyers wanted more. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff heirlooms she procured from the Room of Requirement have been sold, but not the Slytherin one. Mal has a client interested in a Gryffindor heirloom, but her aunt is making sure he offers a good enough deal before pressuring Melissa to find anything.

All around, the letter promised a fair bit of cash in her pocket. Always a good thing in her books.

With a sip of her coffee, Melissa untied the Prophet and let it flop open.

BELLATRIX BLACK - PREGNANT!

Coffee sprayed from her face onto the paper.

She coughed hard over the shock, "Wha- what the fuck?!"

In a shocking turn of events, it has been discovered that the notorious Death Eater, Bellatrix Black (formerly Lestrange) is with child! The discovery came earlier this week during what was to be her final routine exam before being discharged and sent back to Azkaban. The medi-witches found her to be back to full health, but were surprised to find evidence that Black has recently become pregnant!

How is it that a Death Eater, under guard no less, is able to fall pregnant? No one at St Mungo's has been available for comment on that question despite a full investigation being underway. The father of the child has also yet to be determined. However, given the recent, mysterious attack on Black; speculation rises over how this pregnancy came to be.

Melissa blinked at the paragraph in shock and horror. Oh- my- god- There's no way that- right? This can't be real!

She looked around the table. A few people were muttering with friends over their own copies of the paper. Melissa went back to read the rest of it, unsettled by this bizarre change to history.

The Daily Prophet brought plenty of shock during breakfast, though Harry found it was far worse once he arrived at double Potions. The pureblood Slytherins looked mutinous as Professor Snape ordered silence in the classroom. Though, in his opinion, even the Professor seemed stilted during class. Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of the man's reaction; though, he supposed, any reasonable person would be disturbed by what happened (even if the alleged victim is an unrepentant Death Eater.)

When class ended, he shifted to walk beside Draco. "Is there anything we can do?"

Draco pouted. "Whatever happens, it will be Lord Arcturus who has final say on the matter. Still, I'm going to write to Mother to find out what I can."

Harry nodded. "I'll do the same with Uncle Sirius and Cousin Andromeda. It's… I'm not sure what to say."

"It's best that we don't say anything. Keep your head down in case people think to ask."

"Fair enough."

That was easier said than done after seeing Neville's stormy expression all through History of Magic. Maybe it was foolish, but Harry felt the need to reach out to his friend. A passed note got Neville's attention, though the walk was quiet until they got to the courtyard.

"I don't know what to think," Neville muttered harshly. "People are saying they feel sorry for her, and that I should, too; but I'm just- I'm just so angry! She's there, one set of stairs between her and my parents- and they just let her stay there! What if she tries to hurt them again?!"

"That won't happen," Harry assured him. "She's not allowed outside of her room."

Neville muttered to that darkly, "No one was supposed to get into her room, either; but that didn't stop anything, did it?"

"Things will be better now, I'm sure. After that attack the security's gotten a lot tighter."

Neville made a noncommittal hum. Kicking at a stone, he mumbled, "Ron thinks she got duffed up on purpose to stay out of prison."

A huff went out Harry's nose. Honestly, a part of him would feel better if that were true. That said, "I doubt it. How could she have gotten pregnant on purpose? Seduced a guard? Cousin Andy says they've been mostly witches, anyways, in case Bellatrix still has traces of that potion in her system."

"Oh," Neville looked down. "I suppose that doesn't make sense. Still, it could be true."

"Could be, but…" The idea of saying anything in pity of Sirius' mad cousin made him shudder. "Anyways, your parents will be alright. I doubt your gran would let even a hint of trouble come to your parents."

"I hope you're right." A twitch of a smile passed Neville's face. "Thanks, Harry."

"Anytime."

Sunday January 23rd, 1994

With it being Sunday, the day of a VATIC meeting, Melissa was partnered with Kenneth for the day. The two spent much of the morning going over sheet music for this year's song, Chocolate Cigarette by Tom Russell - a song choice that made her deeply wish she still had her accordion. (Alas, one must make due with the instruments available to them!) It was an interesting puzzle to score a trumpet, lyre, and cello for a Parisian-sounding song, but the two found ways to work it all together. In their benefit, Melissa had been given an instrumental opportunity by her cousins, via a one-man band set. This way they will have a proper percussion-esque sound to their music …it was just a matter of learning how to walk with it in a way that made sense to the music. In other words, she had to learn a method of instrumental choreography.

That'll certainly be a challenge.

"Hey, Mel! Hey, Ken!" The two looked up from their music sheets to see Sierra and Willamina approaching them. Sierra eyed the papers knowingly. "Getting ready for Valentine's Day?"

Kenneth hurriedly swept up the paper's into a pile. "Yes, but they're secret!"

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna peek," the witch waved her hand dismissively. "Although… we do need some musical help from you two."

"More from Bennett, actually," Willamina said, looking slightly apologetic. "I don't think a trumpeter would be useful for this."

The other two hesitated. "Useful for what?"

Sierra looked about to make sure no one else was around. Then, conspiratorially, she whispered, "A little birdie told us that screechsnaps grow better with music. Ours were kind of…" she made a so-so gesture, "during class, so we're going to sneak into the greenhouse and give them a little something extra for them to grow better."

Kenneth gave an amused smile. "Isn't that cheating?"

"It's not cheating!" Sierra said dramatically. "We're helping a sweet little seedling survive. It's like a baby. You wouldn't want to let a baby suffer, would you?"

The group snickered at varying levels. "Fine, fine. But I doubt Mel will be a better help than me, all things considered."

Willamina blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she doesn't have anything useful, right?" Kenneth looked to Melissa for confirmation.

The girl pondered it over. "I have a keyboard, though I can't exactly walk around to individual plants with something like that. Oh! But I know where to get a balalaika!"

"A what?" the chorus asked.

"I can grab it quickly and meet you at the greenhouse." She pulled the papers into her satchell. "We'll see you two there in a bit!"

Kenneth blinked through the steam. "Melissa, why do you keep a guitar near a pool? Also, since when did we get a second pool?!"

Since it makes more sense to keep the room's main function hidden from the world.

"What, you thought only you prefects had access to a swimming pool? Now that would just be cruel!" Melissa cried dramatically. "Come on, the others are waiting for us."

The pair arrived at the greenhouse, only to be surprised when they were greeted by four witches instead of two.

"Jacqueline," Kenneth blinked, "you're in on this, too?"

Jacqueline looked abashed. "We're only working on the assignment Professor Sprout gave us. It's not like it's against the rules."

"Precisely," Willamina nodded. "If you think it's a problem, you don't have to get involved."

The boy shrank under the scrutiny of five pairs of eyes. "Well… I suppose… Um, we have our meeting in a bit. I'll let the others know you'll be late, Melissa."

"Sure?" She looked to Jacqueline for approval, who in turn looked to Lucy and Willamina to get their own. Seeing the various nods, she turned back. "Yeah, Jacqueline can take care of it. We'll see you later."

Kenneth took the assurance with relief before walking out the door. Meanwhile, Lucy looked at Melissa and Jacqueline with confusion. "You'll take care of what?" She asked.

"It's a Slytherin thing," both girls answered in unison. An act that caught them both by surprise, followed by chuckles all around.

"Now, where were we? Oh yes-" Melissa strummed the balalaika dramatically, "it's time for a seedling serenade!"

The group gathered their collection of seedlings. Five trays in all. Once they were assembled, she strummed and sang for the murmuring plants.

"Oh, little sprout,

So strong and stout,

You'll grow gorgeously,

I have no doubt!

So, little screech

With voice to preach

Feel my words so that

The sun you'll reach!"

The purple-headed seedlings were dancing to the rhythm; causing Melissa the sway as well with unconscious mimicry. The other girls were grinning at the positive reaction. Melissa took that as a cue to continue.

"Grow, little sprig,

Get strong and big,

You'll make the trees

Look like tiny twigs

Show, little seed

Your growing speed

And that you're the best

Of the Screechsnap breed!"

The seedlings crooned and, oddly, purred and clicked in appreciation of the music. She viewed it as a plant's version of applause, and strummed some chords to signify the end of the improvised song. On her level, the other four witches gave true applause for the song.

"That was brill!" Sierra grinned.

"I'm surprised you made all that up on the spot," Lucy added with an impressed tone.

"Thanks!" Melissa looked over at the swaying plants, considering. "Think that much is good enough?"

Jacqueline answered her, "We can wait a few hours and see if they need more."

Hand to her mouth, Sierra started to chuckle. "Sorry, I was just thinking… if they do start growing better, does that mean you have to add that song to your journal?"

"Absolutely not," she answered flatly. "But, sure, let's add that next to every other stupid thing I've written in this thing." She walked over to her satchell, rummaging for the journal. "Can't be any worse than whatever nonsense I've written in it already."

"Oh? Like what?" Sierra asked. "Can I see?"

There was a pause of consideration. Whatever crossed Melissa's mind, she shrugged dismissively, answering, "Sure, whatever," and handed the book to Sierra.

With a squeal of delight, and protest from the other girls, Sierra flipped open to random pages in the book and started reading. A lot of times it was just quotes of random things Melissa had said and was (forced) prompted by others to subsequently write down. The Hufflepuffs were bemused by most of it, and Jacqueline would react similarly to those she hadn't been privy to already. Though attitudes changed on hearing Sierra gasp.

"Oh! Is this a prophecy?!"

"What?" Melissa blinked and leaned over her shoulder. "Pfft! That? No, that was just when I tried my hand at writing a pure heptomology stanza. Which is practically impossible to write well."

"It looks good to me," Sierra countered.

"And you are very sweet to think so," Melissa said dismissively.

Willamina stepped closer. "What does it say?"

Sierra took a breath, channelling her inner Trelawney as she read the poem with dramatic flair.

"Canon greets the Cursed Child!

Through a summons premature

And conception unsure,

This source of most reviled

Grasp of sequelling allure,

Will be born by Augurey cry.

The Cursed Child of Delphi!"

Melissa cringed at the words. Shuddering over her attempts at writing rhymes within the confines of seven by seven. Especially so when adding on the muse she had chosen.

A pause fell when Sierra finished. Then Lucy tilted her head. "Who's the cursed child of Delphi?"

Melissa shrugged her shoulders. "No one, I just wrote it to be dramatic; but, hearing it out loud, it just sounds stupid."

"It sounds ominous."

Silence followed.

That came from a young boy's voice.

The girls turned to find a cluster of firsties watching them with wide eyes. Melissa recognized a few of them. There was Astoria and Byron, along with Nerys Orpington and Lily Batworthy from Slytherin, plus a gaggle of Ravenclaws (at least one of which she was sure was another Potter-legacy.) Most of the firsties seemed to shrink under their gazes, now realizing that they had been caught snooping.

"You think?" Melissa answered simply.

It was a Ravenclaw boy, the one who had first spoken (and didn't mind their scrutinising gazes) who answered. "You mentioned a cursed child twice, and it's going to be born cursed by the sounds of it. That doesn't sound like a good thing to me."

"Hmm, I suppose. Or I was just writing nonsense for the sake of homework."

Jacqueline muttered under her breath, "You say that a lot." A move which defeated Melissa's attempts at deflection.

Oh, well, there are other ways… She eyed the boy's name tag with a gleam. "Your name is really Tom Baker?"

Baker didn't seem to know if he should be happy or resigned by the way she had asked that question.

"Yeah."

She walked over to him, leaning down to his height with a mischievous smile. Now, Baker truly seemed resigned, ready for whatever jokes she had brewing in her mind. Clearly, the poor boy has been subjected to more than his fair share of them growing up. It was amusing, but she didn't want to be predictable.

"Eleven years."

The boy blinked. "What?"

"Your parents had to wait eleven years for time to show them something extraordinary within you. Now it'll be another eleven to wait for a new re… generation." She twisted around, doing a double-handed click and air guns at the journal. "Hey, Sierra, book me!"

The journal was tossed in her direction, and Melissa caught it mid-air, shouting, "Thank you!" As others muttered to each other, she grabbed a quill and ink, scribbling the words down twice on separate pages. She ripped one out and handed it to Baker. "This one's on the house. I included an autograph, in case you want to show it off later."

"Uh… thank you?"

"No problem!" She looked over at the young group, enjoying their awed looks, but also craving more deflection. "Oh, aren't you two also late for VATIC?"

Astoria and Byron looked surprised. "We thought it was delayed since you went here instead?"

"Nah," she said casually. "I'm just running late, but Ken knows that and is letting the others know. Well! We've dawdled enough. Come on, ducklings, no time to lose!" She grabbed her things and basically corralled the pair out with her. "It's been grand, but we've got to get going. See you later, everyone!"

After the VATIC session closed out (and they cleaned their bodies of various baking spillage) Melissa creeped over to Harry, the pensive look on his face drew her in. "You have a Houdini look on your face. Come on, what's wrong?"

"I'm not hiding anything," he said sullenly. She gave a hum, urging him to continue, and the boy gave a sigh. "It's just- Sirius wrote to me. Arcturus convinced Bellatrix and the medi-witches to let the baby grow to term."

"And-" A flurry of thoughts halted her words. "Well, it's certainly a complicated situation, but it can't be helped."

A hard, slow breath left him, "I know; but I can't help but feel like it's wrong."

"Mmm," Melissa clicked her tongue, "well, personally speaking, I agree with the notion of 'my body, my choice'. So since she's choosing to go along with it, it is what it is. Did he say what the plan will be after it's born?"

"They're still trying to figure that out."

"They've certainly got time for it. Fingers crossed the kid at least comes out normal."

Harry looked mildly alarmed. "You think it won't?"

"Nah, I just mean in general. Well, that, and it being Bellatrix Black's kid. Personalities can be hereditary, you know?"

"Heh, and yet Sirius and Tonks are part of that family."

"Hey, I said 'can be'. I didn't say it was a guarantee."

Harry chuckled lightly. "Hopefully it'll be the same case with the baby."

"Agreed."

The two departed ways, but Melissa soon found herself shadowed by Byron.

"Hey, Bennett, can we talk?"

"...Sure?" They stepped into a nearby storage room. After a pause she asked, "What's up?"

Byron gave her a hard look. "Black's baby is going to be the cursed child, isn't it?"

She blanched, before quickly schooling her features. "What?"

"The cursed child. The one from your prophecy. That's going to be the baby."

Fuck! "No idea." His seriousness put her on edge. "But, just in case it is, what do you think we should do about it?"

"Tell my dad, obviously," Byron answered. "He can get access to her and leave without being spotted. No one would know."

"... And what if you're wrong? What if the kid has nothing to do with it?"

The boy huffed, "It's still a Death Eater's baby. Not even that, seeing as it's not born yet."

"I can see your point," she said simply, "but keep it on the down-low. Know one else can know about this."

"Right."

He turned to leave, but she raised her hand. "Even here," she commanded, "no one can see us leave here together."

"Oh. Right." He moved slowly this time to peek out of the door.

Unseeing, Melody raised her wand to the back of his head.

Oh, to be the Slytherin child of a Gryffindor, she thought. You foolish boy. You've made too many mistakes.

"Obliviate."

It connected instantly. The boy: powerless. The witch: focused on her goals. She sought the stanza, the storage room, and the overheard words between herself and Harry. She searched through the VATIC meeting, and glances of suspicion erased from his mind. By the time it disconnected, his mind was clean of all traces of his conclusions.

When the spell ended, the boy stumbled a bit, nearly falling out of the door.

"Whoa, careful!" she called out to him, pulling him back by his robes.

Byron turned to face her, his face drenched with confusion. "Huh- what-?"

"I'm telling you, Miller, there's nothing to be nervous about!" Melody assured him. "I mean, for goodness sake, you'll be working at the Hufflepuff table, and they love this Valentine's Day stuff. You'll be fine, trust me."

"I-" He shook his head, no doubt trying to grasp at the false thread of their conversation. Failing miserably in the process. "Right. Of course. Why would I ever be nervous?"

"Hey, don't sweat it. Last-minute jitters get the best of all of us. It's totally natural. That said, you'll be great at it. Just offer a charming smile and try to focus on using their names when you wish them a Happy Valentine's Day. People love the personal touch. It goes a long way."

He nodded dumbly as he murmured, "Right." He looked back at the door. "I guess we should head back now."

"For sure. Lead the way!" She smiled happily as Byron stepped out of the room.

On the inside, her inner Melody scowled.

That was close. Too close.

This boy, an eleven year old of all things, came to dangerous conclusions and deadly "problem-solving" far too easily. One would think the son of a man in law enforcement, not to mention the son of someone as sweet as Alice Miller, wouldn't jump straight to a forced abortion of all things. Of course, like she and Harry said, not all personalities are hereditary. Regardless, after this alarming encounter she will have to keep an eye on him. That, and get some alone time with Batworthy, Nerys, and the Ravenclaws for a little… mental cleansing.

She wasn't going to let her mistakes end another innocent life. Never again.