Songbird ; Fred Weasley

Eighty-six

I leaned on the kitchen island as I sipped a cup of tea.

Meanwhile, George was putting together two sandwiches — one for him and one for me.

"Did Phoebes draw that one?" He gestured to the fridge with a knife, and I smiled as I nodded.

"She wanted to draw a portrait of her entire family. Both her mama's side and her daddy's side." I said, and George chuckled.

"She didn't get them all, huh? Might need a bigger sheet of paper."

"Well, she's almost six and she's stubborn. If Phoebe Weasley thinks she can fit a huge arse family on that piece of paper, she can fit them on that piece of paper."

George laughed, placing one sandwich on a plate. He turned around and put the plate in front of me, then went back to finish making his own.

"Thank you." I muttered and lifted the sandwich to take a bite.

But as I did, I felt a gush in my pants, and I accidentally dropped the sandwich in shock.

George turned to look at me as he heard my gasp.

"You okay?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Yeah. Just... I hit my knee against the island."

He frowned at me, trying to read me, but then he turned back around to finish his sandwich.

At the same time, I slid off my stool.

Though when my eyes landed on the one I had just been sitting on, I completely froze and my eyes widened.

Blood.

I rushed out of the kitchen and upstairs so I could use my own bathroom. Locking all three doors in the bathroom, I unbuttoned my trousers, pushing them down around my thighs.

Something was staining the black material of my trousers, and when I looked at the inside of my thighs, I felt my heart skip a beat.

Even more blood.

"Fuck." I whispered, hurrying to push the trousers off completely.

I don't know why, but I went to the sink to wash the blood from the trousers instead of doing anything about the fact that I was bleeding, most likely from my uterus or placenta.

Another gush, and I dropped the trousers in the sink, gripping onto the edges while the blood poured out of me, making a pool on the floor.

"This is not happening." I whispered to myself, staring at my face in the mirror.

"Mavis?!" George called from outside of the bathroom door. "Mavis, open the door."

"Can you call Fred?!" I shouted back.

"I've already called him! I saw the blood on the chair!"

Fuck.

I squeezed my eyes shut, resting my elbows on the sink as I hid my face in my hands.

"Mavis, open the door." He said again, calmer this time.

Then he said something else but it wasn't directed at me. I couldn't hear a second voice, so my curiosity piqued and I reached over to unlock the door, then opened it.

George's eyes met mine as he held a phone to his ear.

"She's opened the door..." he said, then his eyes fell to all of the blood.

He turned his back to me and lowered his voice, but I still heard him.

"She's still bleeding. There's a pool of blood on the floor, and she looks pale."