Henrietta Potter And The Slytherin Child - (A 'Henrietta Potter' sequel) || D.M

75 - About Bloody Time

A/N: This is the extra chapter that readers have requested me to add in before the epilogue (out next). Hope it doesn't disappoint!

*****

"ON YOUR BLOODY HIPPOGRIFF WILL I GIVE YOU AWAY TO THAT GIT!"

"What Ron is trying to say," Hermione said brightly as she placed a cup of tea down in front of me, "is that he couldn't be prouder to walk you down the aisle on the most wonderful day of your life!"

"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed, going puce with rage.

"And you'll be my best woman, of course?" I addressed Hermione, gratefully accepting the tea.

"I'm planning the hen party as we speak," Hermione said, closing her eyes blissfully. "I'm thinking candle lit spas and afternoon tea-"

"Will there be strippers and champagne involved?" I cut in, needing to sort out her priorities.

Ron choked on his tea.

"What?" I asked defensively. "It's tradition!"

"Aren't you all a bit old for that kind of thing?" Ron sniffed. "It seems a bit sleazy if you ask me."

"Just for that, Ronald," Hermione bristled, "I'm going to book the most expensive and exclusive stripper there is out there. I heard penis puppetry is all the rage right now."

"OVER MY DEAD BOD-"

"Careful Ronald, or I'll stop putting out," Hermione warned darkly, "seeing as you think we're too old for that kind of thing anyway..."

That shut Ron up.

*****

I glanced down at the stick in my hand, my eyes widening in horror as I stared at the single word which had just appeared on it.

Oh... shit.

This was a complete fucking disaster. I sat down on the edge of the bed, fanning myself with the offending stick.

"Mum?"

I snapped my head up to see Albus standing in the doorway, his face etched in concern. I attempted to hide the pregnancy test behind my back, but it ended up slipping from my hand and somehow skidded across the floor, halting right in front of Albus's feet.

His face went an instant shade of green as he glanced down at it.

"Is that- is that...?" He stuttered.

I nodded, tears beginning to roll down my cheeks.

"Wow, Mum." Albus said, bending down to pick it up, his eyes sweeping over the result before he stepped forward to hand it back to me. "Your timing is something else. I take it Dad doesn't know yet?"

I shook my head, sobbing harder. Thank fuck I was wearing waterproof mascara or else Hermione was going to kill me.

The hen party the night before had raised questions for me. Because although Hermione had supplied the much-anticipated champagne (and penis puppeteer), I found I couldn't stomach it.

And the last time I couldn't stomach champagne, it was because Albus had happened.

"It wasn't even on our radar," I explained shakily, "given our ages. And you and Scorp, you are enough for us, you are all that we need."

"You need to talk to Dad," Albus said firmly with a lot more calmness than I felt. "You can't go out there and marry him without knowing what you both want."

This was surprisingly mature coming from my sixteen-year-old son.

"But I'm old!" I wailed, running my fingers through my carefully styled hair. "I'm almost forty-one years old for fuck's sake! Draco isn't going to want an old hag of a wife birthing his-"