(Nymphadora Tonks)
"This day just keeps getting better," I muttered into the sofa.
Mum did not laugh.
I stayed there a moment, face buried, hoping that if I didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't exist, the situation might quietly sort itself out.
Unfortunately, things usually don't work like that, I'm not so fortunate.
"Nymphadora."
I groaned.
"Don't."
"We need to talk about this."
"I know," I said into the cushions. "I just don't want to do it now."
She didn't say anything else, but I could feel her stare digging holes into my soul.
I pushed myself upright with all the enthusiasm of a condemned prisoner. My hair flickered from dull brown to a faint, stressed-out yellow and then back again.
Mum was watching me way too closely.
"I'm fine," I said quickly.
"You are not fine."
"I am coping," I corrected, which was obviously much better.
Her expression did not change.
Right.
New strategy.
"So," I said, clapping my hands together once, too loud… then immediately fidgeting with my sleeve. "Pregnant. That's… new."
She didn't say anything, just kept watching me with the same unnerving stare.
I picked at a loose thread.
"Unexpected," I added.
Still nothing.
I shifted, tucked one leg under me, then untucked it. My fingers found my hair, twisting a strand until it turned a nervous shade of orange.
"I mean, these things happen, right? Not usually to me, but statistically…"
"Nymphadora."
I froze.
"…Right."
I exhaled, dropping my hands to my lap, where they immediately started tapping against my knee.
Tap. Tap. Tap~
I stopped, forcing myself to sit still.
"Okay," I said. "Yes. This is a situation."
"That is one way to describe it."
"And situations," I continued, latching onto the word, "require time."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Time."
"Yes," I said quickly. "Time to think. To process. To emotionally… adjust."
I gestured vaguely, then immediately started fidgeting again, rubbing my palms together this time.
"This is a lot."
"It is."
"So," I leaned forward slightly, hands clasping and unclasping, "I just need a few months..."
"Months."
"...to get used to it," I rushed on. "Or a year. Maybe two, three years would be ideal. Plenty of time to…"
"Nymphadora."
I stopped again.
Her voice had that tone. The one that meant I was about to lose this argument.
I swallowed.
"Yes?"
"You need to tell him."
I looked away immediately, my fingers finding the edge of a cushion and picking at it mercilessly.
"Do I, though?" I said weakly.
"Yes."
"Right now?"
"Yes."
I made a face.
"That feels… rushed."
"It is not."
"It feels premature."
She raised a brow and I slumped.
"Okay, fine. Not premature. Just… inconvenient."
She did not look convinced, like at all.
I dragged a hand through my hair, which obligingly shifted into a messy blend of colors.
"Can I at least wait a bit?" I tried. "Just… a few months?"
"No."
I huffed.
"Fine, then answer me this," I said, sitting up straighter, suddenly very focused on what I had clearly decided was a much more important question. "How long until it starts showing?"
Mum blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
"You know," I said, gesturing vaguely at my stomach. "When does it become obvious?"
She studied me carefully.
"About two months, usually. But I know some women who have taken several months to show visible changes," she said slowly. "Why?"
I nodded, that was good enough to me.
I leaned back, tapping my fingers together thoughtfully.
"Okay," I muttered. "So I've got time."
"Nymphadora…"
"And after that I can just hide it," I went on, warming to the idea. "Bit of magic, some clever layering, nothing too complicated. I mean, I'm a Metamorphmagus, how hard can it be?"
Her expression went very still.
"And after that," I continued, completely ignoring her, "if it becomes too noticeable, I can just… take some time off. Quietly. No one has to know."
"Nymphadora."
"I could probably hide it for a year or so…" I snapped my fingers, eyes lighting up.
Mum stared at me flatly.
"Nymphadora," she said, completely deadpan, "the baby will already be born by then."
I blinked.
"…Oh."
Right, that makes sense.
I paused and considered it for a while.
Then…
"Brilliant," I said, perking up in my seat.
Mom's eye twitched.
"That actually makes things easier."
"Easier?"
"Yes!" I said, sitting up again, suddenly energized. "I don't have to hide anything for too long. I just need to figure out how to hide a baby."
I began counting on my fingers.
"Which is definitely more manageable. I mean, babies don't go to work, do they? So I can just leave it here with you while I…"
"Nymphadora."
"...handle my duties, and no one has to know, and then eventually I can…"
"Nymphadora."
I stopped, then raised my head very slowly.
Her voice had gone dangerously calm.
I looked at her, and she was staring at me.
Not blinking.
Not amused.
And definitely not impressed by my master plan.
"…Yes?" I said carefully.
"You. Are. Not." She said, each word perfectly measured, "Hiding. This."
I opened my mouth, about to say something, probably something stupid.
Then closed it, only to open it again.
"But…"
"No."
I deflated.
"But it's a very good plan," I tried weakly.
"It is not."
"It solves several problems."
"It creates more."
I slumped back into the sofa.
"This is very inconvenient," I muttered.
"Yes," she agreed.
I groaned, dragging my hands down my face.
"Fine," I said. "I'll… think about telling him."
"You will do more than think."
I peeked at her and asked cautiously, "what do you mean?"
"You have one week."
I froze.
"…Isn't that too short?"
"One week," she repeated. "To tell him yourself."
My stomach dropped.
"And if I don't?"
Her gaze sharpened.
"Then I will go to Hogwarts," she said, "and inform him personally."
I stared at her in disbelief, but she did not look like she was joking.
"And I will not be subtle."
Oh.
Oh, that was bad.
Very bad.
I sank deeper into the sofa, staring at the ceiling.
"One week," I muttered.
"Correct."
I dragged a hand over my face.
"I'm going to be sick again, aren't I?"
Mum stood.
"I will prepare a potion."
"Of course you will."
I closed my eyes, my thoughts racing.
One week.
To tell Gilderoy Lockhart that he had gotten me pregnant.
I groaned.
"…Kill me please."
"Believe me," Mum said dryly, "I considered it briefly. But unfortunately, that will have to wait until my grandchild is born."
…