Bad Romance

Realization

A/N: A bad hurricane ran up the east coast so nobody within a five mile radius of me has power at the moment which means no WiFi so if the updates are wonky blame Mother Nature. Anyways, love youuuuu
-From your POV-

"Trimester?? As in pregnant??" I ask in shock. She calmly nods her head.

"I know this is all a lot for you, but I'm here to help you with anything; I'm going to write you a referral to have an ultrasound and some other tests done just so they can check the fetal development as well as how the rest of your body is functioning, and then from there, you can decide what further steps you would like to take with the situation." she explains. My face drops as a million things race through my mind. How could this happen?? I literally kept condoms in my nightstand SPECIFICALLY to avoid this.

I didn't quite catch what else she said, I just took the slip of paper she gave me for the referral and slid it into my pocket as I left the clinic. I stood outside for a minute and just rubbed the bridge of my nose. A man who was outside having a smoke noticed my distress. "You look like you could use a drag." he says, offering his cigarette.

"No fucking thanks, I can't quite do that at the moment." I snap out. He raises his eyebrows as he slowly pulls his cigarette back.

"Well excuse me for asking."

"Oh shut up I have morning sickness, I'll throw up on you."

"Congratulations to the new and happy mother-to-be." he says back sassily. I walk over and snatch the cigarette out of his lips and throw it to the ground, furiously grounding my foot into the pavement.

"Hey! What the hell?!" he protests.

"Smoking is bad for you, asshole." I say as I stomp off in the direction of my house.

The whole walk there I felt increasingly sick. I couldn't tell if it was from being upset or what, but I just knew that I could throw up all over the sidewalk at any given moment. Literally nowhere in my plans did getting pregnant fit in. ESPECIALLY not at this age, and ESPECIALLY not now that Tom and I had an Underground legion growing.

The legion was a whole other beast in and of itself; it grew by the day and I wasn't 100% sure what they did daily, but I knew that were all radical in their close-mindedness towards Mudbloods. What I did know is they would often go out on these night trips where they would loot, vandalize, and burn down Mudblood businesses. I had joined them one or two times for the hell of it and we always merely escaped the authorities. Whatever Tom had been planning, he hadn't yet told me. And I was planning on pressuring him into telling me, but now we had more important things to worry about.

Like a literal baby.

I finally reached my house and when I got there, I slammed the front door shut and headed straight to my room and slammed the door shut before flopping onto my bed.

I wasn't sad, or mad, or even happy about the baby. I was more frustrated, if anything. I felt like I had made one of the biggest mistakes in the world, and it wasn't even my fault. I'm assuming somewhere along the line the condom ripped and neither Tom nor I noticed it. I mean, these things did happen. But how was I-- how were we, going to raise a child? Both of us dabbling in the dark arts doesn't exactly line up with raising a child. But then again, many sorcerers before us have done it and (somewhat succeeded).

One bright side to this was that if I chose to keep the child, finances would not be a worry; now that Tom had just sort of taken over the Jenkins' manor and had access to their finances through the two boys, money was ample and that's not including the small fortune my dad sat on. He thinks neither Eva nor I know, but our family is actually quite wealthy. It's not like the Malfoy's would hang out with anyone otherwise.

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I spent many more hours just thinking over and over again in my mind all the different ways this could- or would- go down. At some point, the heart burn resided enough for me to go downstairs and get something to eat. My dad and my sister were downstairs watching TV when they began asking me questions about it; they asked if the doctor had diagnosed or prescribed anything, and how I was feeling. Of course, I lied and said I was diagnosed with the stomach flu and the doctor didn't prescribe anything, but just gave me a list of at-home remedies and they just nodded in agreement. I couldn't imagine their faces if I had just turned around and told them I was pregnant. I wouldn't even know what my face would look like if I admitted it aloud to anyone close to me.

I had taken a shower and cleaned my room while I continued my never-ending thought cycle, which by now, had become torturous. I had decided I was going to sleep to try and shut my brain up, and also I had grown to be very tired (ANOTHER bad side of being pregnant). I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth and flossing when I started replaying the doctor's words in my head.

First trimester. She said I was in my first trimester.

Which makes sense, that's how all pregnancies start. But I know for a fact that the LARGE majority of all pregnancies aren't detectable until the first 3-4 weeks.

And it most definitely had not been 3-4 weeks since Tom and I started sleeping together again; how do I know? My concussion took 5 whole weeks to heal. Five. Five weeks. And my concussion would have happened 8 weeks ago next Saturday.

My toothbrush fell straight out of my hand and into the sink when the idea struck my mind. Before I could even pick it up, I tilted my head over the sink and threw up at the mere thought of it.

No. Absolutely not.