Rose Weasley, 22 years and 6 months old, was an intelligent, confident, capable young woman. She had landed a job with Gringotts Bank straight out of Hogwarts, and she leased and regularly paid rent and utilities for a flat near Diagon Alley. She had even convinced her disbelieving father to welcome (or at least accept) her live-in boyfriend of 5 years, Scorpius Malfoy, who happened to be the son of her parents’ school enemy. She was known at the bank for being cool-headed during a crisis, executing brilliantly speedy translations, and mediating tense situations between goblins and wizards while maintaining respect for both species.
But, at the moment, Rose Weasley looked anything but calm, capable, or confident. She was red-eyed, pacing nervously, and trying to keep her eyes from looking at the small plastic strip in front of her before the clock ticked to 9:52.
She had taken the morning off work, having not been feeling well for several weeks. After kissing her good-bye, Scorpius had already left for his job as a Ministry potions tester, regulator, and researcher. When she had heard the crack from outside the flat’s front door that signified Scorpius’ Apparition, Rose had thrown the covers off and jammed her feet into her trainers, not bothering to change out of the sweats she had slept in.
Leaving the flat, she had rounded the corner to enter the Muggle apothecary in the next street over.
Over the last few days, her suspicions—and dread—becoming stronger and stronger, she had planned this research excursion carefully. There were, of course, magical methods to obtain the information she required, but she couldn’t exactly be seen by anyone in the Wizarding World purchasing that particular potion. If it didn’t get reported directly to her parents, it would almost certainly be leaked to the press, which was already far too enthralled at the idea of a Malfoy and a Weasley shacking up. She had briefly considered brewing the potion herself, but at this point, she didn’t really trust herself not to bungle the job.
Instead, she had purchased the Muggle version of the potion, which turned out to be small, flat strips that came with extensive instructions. She had read the directions all the way through three times. Then she had immersed the strip in her urine (the things Muggles thought of!), as directed, and was now pacing obsessively between the bathroom and bedroom.
9:52. She forced herself to look….and promptly collapsed on the bed in hysterical sobs.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She had several more years of career work to do—she wanted to have the title of Manager, at least, before this point. And shouldn’t she have been married? Yes, she felt fairly certain that that was supposed to happen first, and she was also very certain that the entire Weasley family would say the same. And, shouldn’t she and Scorpius have discussed having children? Or at least wanting to have children? Yet, that was a conversation that had never actually occurred.
After taking the other two tests in the package, she was forced to concede that there wasn’t any mistake. She was pregnant. And there were a few people who probably needed to know that fact.
Scorpius came home at lunchtime, expecting to find Rose in bed reading (which was her second-favorite activity to do in that particular location). Instead, she was waiting for him at the kitchen table, her hands clenched around a half-empty mug of tea.
She had heard the noise of Apparition and the key turning in the lock but hadn’t been able to bring herself to face him. When Scorpius leaned down and kissed her tumbled auburn curls, she looked up at him to gauge his mood. He smiled down at her, greyish-blue eyes warm. –How are you feeling?â€
–I’ve felt better,†Rose returned.
–I brought home some soup for lunch in the hopes that it would help,†Scorpius offered.
Automatically, Rose responded. –That’s sweet.â€
–Are you hungry at all?â€
–Umm,†Rose hesitated, –umm, I don’t think I’ll be hungry until I tell you this.â€
–Tell me what?†Scorpius asked, rummaging in the drawer for spoons.
–Scorpius, I need you to sit down and listen to me.â€
Scorpius cautiously set the silverware on the counter and sat down across from her. –Rose, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Wait…†A look of horror crossed his face. –Oh, no. You’re not doing this, are you? Is this the ‘I think we’re better off as friends’ speech?â€
–NO! No.â€
–Sweet Merlin, you had me going there. Don’t scare me like that.â€
–Well, this probably will scare you. I’m pregnant.â€
There was abrupt silence as Scorpius digested this information. He began chewing on his lower lip, a sign, as Rose knew, that meant he was uncertain and worried. It was such a non-Malfoy trait, this manifestation of self-doubt, that it rarely failed to bring a smile to Rose’s face. Today, however, a smile was the furthest thing from her mind.
–Okay…†Scorpius breathed at last. –Okay. How did that happen? I mean, I know how. Obviously. I was there. But I thought you were taking the potion.â€
–Yeah. I was. I took it every day. But two months ago I ran out, and when I brewed it, I had run out of fresh feverfew, and I was running late from work on your birthday, and you were coming home soon…â€
Scorpius smirked. –I do seem to remember that day. You looked particularly fetching wrapped up in that blue and silver ribbon. Best birthday present I ever got.â€
Rose didn’t smile. –I was in a rush to brew the potion before you got home, so I substituted the dried feverfew for the fresh…â€
The smile completely disappeared from Scorpius’s face. –Ah,†he said. –That would do it.â€
–Well, the potions book said it would weaken the potion to use dried ingredients, but I didn’t think that would matter too much. It would still work, and I’ve been taking it a long time, so I thought I had plenty in my system. And I replaced it a few days later with a fresh potion.â€
Scorpius got up and searched in his bag for a quill and scrap parchment to start a diagram. Rose remembered the many study sessions when he had done this very thing in the Ravenclaw common room, creating visual diagrams to help them both understand the complexities of the material they were learning. It had been the accumulation of hundreds of study hours, hundreds of conversations and debates, hundreds of playful pokes with quills that had all added up to love. In seventh year, she had finally seen that, if she could spend this much time with him and never run out of things to say, she wanted a whole lifetime of more hours together.
When Scorpius had finished his diagram, he pushed it across to her. –See, this is the chemical structure of dried feverfew versus fresh feverfew. The drying alters the way that the molecules bond with other potion ingredients. Normally, the slight difference doesn’t matter. But you happened to also be using rosemary instead of lavender.â€
–I know. Because I’m allergic to lavender.â€
–Right. So we figured out that we could substitute rosemary instead. But that was dependent on you using fresh feverfew.â€
–What’s the difference?â€
–Well, rosemary combines differently with dried feverfew than it does with fresh. Essentially, what it comes down to is that, in combination with rosemary, dried feverfew would have the effect of making a fertility potion instead of a contraceptive potion.â€
–WHAT?†shrieked Rose, knocking over the cup of tea.
Scorpius snatched his sketch out of the spreading brown pool, muttered a quick Scourgify, and gently took the mug from Rose’s hands.
–Well, I could diagram it out for you to show you exactly why it works that way,†Scorpius began. He had, in spite of his father’s feeble protests and his grandfather’s vehement objections, taken a few chemistry classes at the Muggle University of London after finishing at Hogwarts so that he would have more knowledge about the chemical processes involved in potion-making. It had made him so adept at his job that he had been promoted within one year to a Senior Researcher position for the Potions Department of the Ministry.
It had also made him impossibly long-winded when it came to explanations about potions, so Rose waved his offer aside.
–No, no, it’s okay. I believe you. But this…this is really not good. Combined with the Weasley genes, a fertility potion could actually mean…†She gestured helplessly at her abdomen.
–Twins,†nodded Scorpius. –Or triplets,†he added thoughtfully. –But I would have to research more about how the two ingredients combine to change—â€
He was cut off by Rose’s howl of frustration. –Scorpius! This is our LIFE we’re talking about. This is my JOB being put on hold if we have kids now. We can’t have kids now!â€
–Why not?â€
–Why not? Why not? We haven’t even talked about having kids! What about that? And now we are faced with the distinct possibility of having one, no, maybe two, maybe three of them, and you’re going on about chemical structures and asking why not!†Rose’s tirade ended with an indignant snort.
–Rose.†Scorpius looked as calm as he usually did, which Rose found particularly maddening when she was upset about something. –I admit it was a shock when you first told me, but this is not really a tragedy. I mean we’re in our twenties. It’s not like we’re still at Hogwarts or anything. We have jobs. We have a good relationship. I mean,†he said, warming to his theme, –there’s really no good time to have kids, right? We’re never going to be one hundred percent prepared. It’s always going to be a sacrifice of some sort, whether you have to work fewer hours or I have to pass up a promotion that means traveling, or we have to spend more money for a larger flat. It’ll never be perfect. So it might as well be now.â€
Rose stared at him across the table, hope blossoming in her chest for the first time that morning. –But,†she whispered, –I don’t even know if you want kids.â€
–I do,†Scorpius reassured her. –I mean, I’ve always wanted kids. Several, in fact, because growing up as an only child was pretty shitty. But I always thought about it in a hazy, far-off kind of way.â€
–But now it’s here. And…†Rose rushed to get the rest of the sentence out before she lost her courage, –I’m afraid you won’t want to be with me any more.â€
–What?†Scorpius recoiled in shock.
–Well, it wasn’t something you chose. It’s something that’s been pushed on you.â€
–It wasn’t something you chose either,†Scorpius pointed out.
–Yeah, but it was my fault, my mistake with the potion.â€
–Eh,†Scorpius ran his hand through his blond hair so that it stood on end. –I could have double-checked the potion. I could have made the potion for you last month when I saw you were low. I could have been more clear a few years ago when we discussed substituting rosemary for lavender. Is it my fault?â€
–No!†Rose asserted.
–Then it isn’t really yours either. We both made choices that added up to an unexpected consequence. So we deal with it.â€
If Rose had not loved Scorpius before that moment, she certainly would have fallen for him right then and there. She threw herself at him across the table, sobbing into his shoulder.
–
Hey, hey, it’s all right. Look, I’m…I’m still processing things and it’ll probably take some time to get used to the idea of being a dad…†Scorpius gulped at the thought, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down against Rose’s ear. Then he recovered and continued. –…But we’ll figure it out together, one moment at a time. That’s all there is to it.â€
–Okay,†Rose sniffled, retreating to her own chair and wrinkling her nose at the wet splotches on Scorpius’s robes. –Sorry,†she said, rubbing her sleeve across her face. –Hormones.â€
Scorpius laughed grimly as he thought of one other thing. –Of course, now we have to tell our fathers.â€
–You had to say that now?â€
In Good Faith by Flourish and Blott
Story Notes:
Special thanks to my beta, WrenWinterSong for her helpful suggestions. The Wizarding World and the characters are J.K. Rowling's. I'm just having fun with them--no profit involved!
Chapter Endnotes: Hehe! Sorry. I couldn't resist the irony of Ron's daughter being allergic to lavender...