Beating For Two

Chapter 25

Staying at Harry's place proved to be surprisingly easy and relaxing. His parents didn't question anything, not even after quite a few days had passed, but I was pretty sure Harry had filled them in considering I more than once got a sympathetic glance from his mother and his father kept saying “stay here as long as you need”. I was eternally grateful towards both of them and I made sure they knew that, but after four days had passed and I still had no idea whatsoever about what I was gonna do further, I started feeling a little guilty. To stay in a house that I technically wasn't supposed to be staying in and without even being able to help out much due to being in an halfway handicapped state, made me feel like a parasite more than anything else.

Wednesday, April 13th

Thirty-four weeks and two days

We were standing in the kitchen one morning , preparing a quick breakfast to eat before we had to head off to school. Harry was currently busy looking through the fridge, apparently in search for something to drink that wasn't milk if the grumbling mumbles of “only milk everywhere” that he kept uttering, and I looked over at him from where I was standing by the counter, preparing a couple of rolls to bring for lunch.

“Hey, Harry?” I said tentatively.

“Hm?” he replied absentmindedly, still with his head in the fridge.

“Is... are- I mean, is it okay that I'm here?” I asked, biting my lip lightly.

He stood up straight then and turned to look at me, his forehead wrinkled.

“Why do you ask?”

I shrugged.

“I don't know, it's just... you know, I take up extra space and I eat your food and I don't really do anything to help out around here and I guess it just feels a little wrong.”

“It's only been four days since you got here,” he said, looking amused.

“And you're pretty low-maintenance, don't worry.”

“Still though,” I said.

“I should at least do something to help out around here, especially since I have no idea how long it's gonna take before I'll be able to get another place to live.”

He smiled a little before he closed the fridge door, walked over to me and placed both of his hands on my shoulders.

“First of all, you're nearly eight months pregnant and I'd prefer if if you didn't do anything but what's strictly necessary,” he said.

“So I'm not about to let you do any housework or whatever it is you have in mind when you say that you 'should at least do something'.”

I had to admit that doing housework sounded anything but tempting considering just walking around was exhausting and tiresome enough.

“Are you sure?” I said nevertheless.

“I could at least help with-”

“No, Lou,” he interrupted in a singsong voice, shaking his head.

“You are just going to sit still on your cute, little bum until the baby's born so you don't end up hurting him or yourself. Mum said so as well.”

“What, your mum said that I should just sit still on my cute, little bum?”

He smiled wryly.

“No, but she said that you look tired and that when pregnant people look tired, they should rest.”

“Aha, so you've been talking about me with your mum then,” I said, raising my eyebrows teasingly.

“Yes, well, I had to consult with someone,” he said easily.