Songbird ; Fred Weasley

Thirty-six

I found a pair of dark red checkered ones, pulling them on, and then I stole his t-shirt off the floor, pulling it over my head.

"Mavis. Love, come sit for a minute." Fred called as he sat up in bed.

"I just need to use the bathroom." I told him without looking his way.

I walked from the bedroom, shutting the door behind me, and my eyes landed on George and Angie who were standing by the dining table, about to take a seat.

"Oh, good morning, Mavis." Angie smiled at me, and I offered one back, knowing it didn't reach my eyes. "I didn't know you and Fred—"

"Oh, yeah they're quite serious." George told her, and as Angie turned to him, I saw my loophole to sneak into the bathroom.

I locked the door once I shut it, and then I leaned against it, letting out a heavy breath.

I was nine weeks pregnant today and it was mid-October. I had been in auror training for a couple of weeks and it was going well.

As well as it could.

I mean, I was sort of an outsider, which I wasn't used to. I had friends at Hogwarts, but here I felt ugly.

The other people at the training courses were laughing at me, making fun of me and constantly misgendering me.

It was embarrassing and while it probably was bullying, I didn't like calling it that. I didn't want anyone to know it was happening. I'm eighteen and should be able to stick up for myself, but it's sort of hard when they steal my identity away from me.

There, I'm a boy, and while that shouldn't be insulting, it is. I'm a woman, and they constantly disregard that. Even the instructors.

Though the instructors don't do it on purpose. Apparently I look like a guy, and they forget that I'm not a guy.

So now I'm known as Mavis the guy.

Anyway, I was pregnant and no one knew but Fred, Max and Reuben. I hadn't told my mum like I told Fred I would.

After Reuben found out, I was kind of freaked out and now I had no idea how to tell anyone that I'm going to be a mother just a few months before my nineteenth birthday.

I'm so tired constantly. I thought it would go away, but it's only getting worse, and so are my cravings.

I'm still getting nauseous. In the mornings, in the afternoons, and sometimes in the evenings.

I did my business in the bathroom, fighting back vomit as I washed my hands, and after drying them, I walked back to Fred's bedroom.

He was halfway dressed, wearing a pair of sweatpants but no shirt. He was sitting in the armchair in the corner, knees spread, his hand drawing circles in the top of the book that sat on the side table.

His mind was somewhere else, but she snapped out of it when he heard the door shut. He looked at me and he offered me a smile while I sat down on the edge of the bed, pushing my hands underneath my thighs.

"Does it have something to do with the pregnancy?" He asked me.

I shook my head.

"Did you ever go to therapy after the war?" I asked him, and he cocked an eyebrow, running his hands down his thighs.

"I did. Why?"

I shrugged.

"I did too for a little while, but then I quit. It wasn't really working."

"How long did you give it before you quit?"

"I dunno. A few weeks." I said, causing Fred to laugh. "I know you have to give it longer than that, but it hurt too much to talk about it."

"It? Meaning..."

"Yes." I cut him off, not wanting him to say her name.

I looked out of the window, the sky light blue and no clouds visible.

"Is that why you're upset?" Fred asked me, resting his elbows on his knees. "You were thinking about her?"

I nodded and bit my lip to stop it from trembling. I kept sitting on my hands also, not wanting him to see them tremble as well.

I kept my eyes on the sky, doing everything to push the tears back.

"I should probably get dressed and go home." I said, feeling uncomfortable with the suddenly emotional atmosphere.

When I stood up, so did Fred. He reached for my hand and he pulled me towards him. As he sat back down, he gently kicked my feet apart. He pulled me down to straddle his thighs, his arms wrapping around my lower back.

I looked at him while placing my hands on his shoulders.

"You look really beautiful in my clothes." He said softly, changing the subject, and I smiled, loving how he had noticed I didn't feel comfortable talking about her.

"You look really beautiful in your clothes too." I whispered, my heart growing when I made him laugh.

I pressed a kiss to his cheek before leaning my cheek on his shoulder, feeling him hug me back.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you... I found us a new OB/gyn." He said and I hummed in response, telling him I was listening. "She's rated the best in England, and it's a private clinic instead of a public one."

I frowned, raising my head and my eyes focusing on him. "What?"

"You don't have to worry about a thing, love." He said, knowing I was going to complain that he had found somewhere that costed us money.

"I don't have to worry? I don't have a job. I can't pay for a private clinic, and definitely not the best rated one."

"That's why I'm paying for it." He said, giving my hip a small squeeze. "Please let me do this for you. I want you to have someone who doesn't make you feel guilty for whatever."

I sighed.

"Fine. But only because it's your baby too."

"Great." He smiled widely. "We have an appointment in two weeks."