dead weight. sirius black.

seven.

the time came to tell nando.
yara wasn't going to let him anywhere near her—but she had decided no matter how mean he was going to be about it,
the baby was going to have his last name. better to give them a purebloods last name rather than a muggle born.

ferdinand doesn't react kindly.

i dragged him from his little posse at the ravenclaw table
over to the empty common room
and wringing her fingers together, a baggy sweater dwarfing her
( even though i assured her she hadn't started showing yet )
yara's lips parted in shock.

"you're what? it's not my baby, for fucks sake. who knows who you've been sleeping with."
his face nothing but disgust.
as yara's eyes settle with tears,
my first reaction is; anger.
her blonde hair falls out of its messy bun.
she looks as if she's going to tear it out of her skull.

nando doesn't cower as i march up to him.
but i tower over him by four inches.
5'10 and lanky legged this is the only time
i enjoy my physique.
the glower on my face must be deadly.
he finally shrinks back into himself.
"say that again."
"i-"
"say. that. again." my teeth are gritted so hard i can hear them scratching against each other.

his confidence seems to come back to him.
"i said,"
he spits.
"she's been with how many guys this week?
im sure the whole castle has—"
crack!

before i can register what's happening
before i could say be mature about this,
to myself,
my fist raises and collides with his nose.
he stumbles back
a strangled gasp leaving his lips.
my knuckles burn.
i hold my hand to my chest as the skin splits after the impact.
"what the hell!" he curses.
his hands covering his nose,
bleeding down into his crisp white shirt and ravenclaw robes.

yara marches up and sticks her nose up in the air.
"fuck you."

she takes my hand and we stalk down the hall.
than, she crumbles.
she sinks down to the floor and covers her face with her hands.
sobs pour of her,
louder than the night before
and before
and before.
i sit down next to her and pull her into my arms.
she drapes herself over my lap,
and i can't convince her to move now,
because she's sound asleep gripping onto my ( your )
sweater with a hold i couldn't budge.

"we don't need him. we'll be okay. it's okay." i say more to myself than yara.
we don't need him.
she doesn't need him.

"yara," i hate to wake her but i dont want my knuckles to bleed onto her expensive sweater.

she hums.
"we need to go to madam pomfrey,"

she freezes up.
she sits up to face me.
cradling her stomach with a fearful look.
"should we tell her?"

i ponder.
it's better for an adult to know.
to help us.
someone who knows what they're doing.
"i think we should."

"okay, okay, okay." she repeats nervously. "we'll go get your hand fixed up, thank you by the way, and then we'll tell her."
"you're welcome. okay, lets go."
"mar?"
i turn back to her, halfway down the hall and near the corner.
"it's gonna be okay, right? like—like—this is all gonna be okay?"
i grab her hand. "always. it'll always be okay."

list of things to fight to live for.
one: yara livingston offspring ( in turn, yara. )
two: remus lupin and his little chocolate kisses he brings from home.
three: your friends smiles.
four: punching nando wildflower again and again.

thirty six seconds to drown
four to decide it's worth it.