A/N: As always, muchas gracias to my reviewers of the last chapter. I'm still very surprised by the response to this story, considering it isn't exactly teeming with canon characters :) I appreciate it muchly. And profuse thanks, as always, to the lovely Liss for being my beta and being such a help. You rock!
XVIII
Fall returned to Cambridge, Massachusetts in a blaze of fiery leaves and blustery winds. There was a briskness to it
all, as if the whole entity of the town, right down to the weather, realized that there was much to do, much to
accomplish, and was ready to roll up its sleeves and get right to work, chop, chop.
Certainly, that was the feeling one got upon stepping foot onto Harvard campus as the new school year began. The faculty lumbered about with perpetual urgency, eager to impart more knowledge to their wide-eyed students. The pupils themselves, especially the freshmen, were almost reverent, desperate to jot down every word that a professor uttered. Of course, as the year went on, that reverence would more or less diminish and much of the urgency would recede, flaring only at those inevitable times when a test or project got assigned. But for the time being, studiousness and a lust for learning reigned, young minds much aware of the privilege they'd secured in being admitted to such a prestigious institution.
Emerson was no different, and as she entered what was technically her second year but academically was her final one, she found herself wrestling with myriad emotions. The most prominent one was excitement, for so many reasons. She was so proud of herself for all her hard work, and for the fact that she had thus far been able to handle all the pressure that she'd put on herself by undertaking what she had. For the most part, she felt satisfied with the state of her life and her relationships with her family, her friends and her lover.
But she couldn't deny that a part of her was very scared. In a year, it would be the end of another era, and after graduation would come the real test of her survival abilities. That was when she would need to enter the adult world in full, by obtaining a job and setting her sights on the next phase of her dream. The chances of her founding a successful dual practice straight out of college were not very high, even with the qualifications that she will have earned. She would need to work in a more established practice first, develop a client base and the respect of her colleagues. Only then would she have the confidence enough to truly put herself on the line and take the risk.
"That's what I think, anyway," Em said aloud to her roommate, before sighing and leaning back against the sofa.
The two young women were grabbing a quick moment of downtime together before they each would have to dash off to their respective classes. With a new year had come new schedules and they no longer had the Friday free periods that they'd come to treasure. It was the second week of October, a cold, drizzly day and they were sipping from large mugs of green tea in the Dudley House lounge area.
"I don't think you'll have any trouble finding a good practice to be a part of," Kady murmured. "With a Harvard degree, you'll have the Muggle side all set, and especially with working at Morningside. I'm sure the Doc would be happy to give you a good recommendation."
Emerson nodded. "I hope so. Maybe I should raise the subject when I go in to work today." She frowned suddenly, before sighing again. "I think Matt and I will be partnered together there for the rest of this quarter."
"Is it still weird for you?" her roommate asked, looking concerned.
"A little, yeah. I mean, we're not mad at each other anymore, but he's not quite as natural with me as he used to be. I think I hurt his feelings when-"
"And whose fault is that?" Kady interrupted, sharply. "No, Emerson. I won't sit here and let you blame yourself. He knew all along that you weren't available."
Em sighed. "I know, but-"
"But nothing. What could you have done other than what you did? Because if it's a matter of choosing between Brandon and Matt, well-"
Em snorted. "A no-brainer if ever there was one." As always when she thought about her boyfriend, joy welled up within her and she smiled serenely. "I'm going to marry him, Kady. Someday. He hasn't asked me or anything, but I know he's the one I want."
The two of them looked at each other and sighed blissfully before breaking into giggles. Kady sobered first. "Well, you're lucky that way. I don't have any prospects on that horizon at all. But hey, I'm still young, eh?"
Em shifted uncomfortably. She'd never brought up the conversation she'd had with Ben about his unconventional relationship with Kady. Anyway, there really wasn't a need to anymore, since Ben and Kady had decided that sex thrown into the mix of their friendship made things a bit too complicated. They'd realized that they didn't know each other well enough to be doing what they were, and neither of them really had the desire to truly pursue something more substantial. It made more sense for each of them to seek partnerships closer to home. One long distance relationship in their circle was more than enough, and Emerson and Brandon were handling their roles swimmingly.
"Don't worry, Kady," Em said gently. "There's someone out there for you. I know it."
The petite brunette smiled at her. "I hope to God you're right. But moving on. Did you hear?"
"About what?"
"That History professor, Fitchburg. Apparently, he divorced his wife over the summer to get a quickie marriage to some grad student he'd knocked up."
"Holy shit!" Emerson exclaimed. "So it's true, then? I thought it was just a rumor."
"Nope. It's true. It was all we could talk about in Business Administration this morning. We had a mock Ethics seminar, and somebody cleverly brought up that topic. Our professor couldn't forbid us from discussing it, of course. All she could do was not participate herself."
Em laughed and they spent the next few minutes discussing the scandal, which had of course been discovered by the media at large and was hot topic on all mediums. Their downtime ended much too soon for their liking and they parted, Kady hurrying to Managerial Capitalism and Emerson to Clinical Studies. The day passed quickly and she returned to her dorm after the last lecture of the day, intending to change into her work clothes. Matt Adler would be coming by and they would head over to Morningside together.
Upon refilling Axel's food bowl, she grabbed an apple and a bottle of water and shrugged into her jacket. Returning to the living room, she realized that she'd forgotten her Morningside badge and headed back to her bedroom. The badge was atop her cluttered desk, but when Em entered the room, it wasn't what caught her eye.
It was the snow globe on her desk. She had received it one Christmas from her Aunt Tonks, who said she'd always liked having them herself but with her clumsiness had never been able to own one for very long. The globe appeared to be just a regular snow globe, and technically it was. But at the beginning of August, Emerson's mother had placed a Protean charm on it, at the request of Carolyna Lupin Chapman. The charm was repeated on an identical globe that Lyna had, and if one was activated, the "snow" in the other would glow a brilliant neon blue and begin to swirl.
Just like the globe was doing at the moment.
For a second, Emerson stood frozen, staring at the fluorescent particles swirling within the glass ball. Lyna was in labor; that was what the swirling meant. Em had made her best friend promise that when her labor began, she would notify her. Which was why the charm had been put on the globes.
"Oh, Lyna," Em whispered, feeling herself on the verge of tears of excitement, anxiety and joy. In the beginning, her own painful experience with pregnancy had interfered with her responses to her best friend's blessing. But as time went by, it had become easier, so that now Lyna's letters and ultrasound pictures were almost always received with fierce excitement on Emerson's part. She was so happy for her best friend!
Grabbing her wand, she had a bag packed in less than a minute and shrunk it to fit in the pocket of her jacket. After hastily scribbling a note to her roommate, she charmed it to Kady's door with a spell that made it visible only the recipient. Then, taking a deep breath, she gathered herself to Disapparate to the IMA terminal. But just then the doorbell rang, and Emerson froze.
"Shit," she said out loud, realizing instantly who was at the door. She'd forgotten that Matt was coming over to accompany her to work. Hurrying forward, she pulled the door open. "Matt, hi."
He flashed his wide grin. "Hey. You ready to go?"
"Actually, I can't go in to work today. Something just came up. I'm really sorry," she said in a rush, stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind her.
The grin on Matt's face morphed into a slight frown. "Oh. How come?"
"I have to go home. My best friend is in labor, and I made her promise that she would send for me when it happened."
"Okay," he said, looking perplexed. "But how will you get there in time? I'm sure the labor isn't gonna pause itself until you arrive."
Em suppressed a smirk. "I think I'll manage. Could you tell the Doc for me? I'll try to be back by the day after tomorrow. Kady will inform my professors and anyway, I'm quite a ways into my curriculum so I won't be missing anything, really."
Matt nodded. "All right. Do you need a ride to the airport?"
"No, I'm okay, thanks. But you should go; you don't want to be late. I'll see you in a day or two, all right?"
She gave his arm a quick squeeze and hurried away before he could speak or otherwise detain her. As soon as she rounded the corner, she slipped into the nearest bathroom, concentrated and Disapparated.
Having been such a frequent customer in the past twelve months, the managers were happy to customize a Portkey to St. Mungo's for her and within minutes, Emerson found herself standing at the front desk of the famed wizarding hospital. All around her was the bizarre cacophony of noises typically associated with magic gone wrong, intentionally or otherwise. This wasn't really her destination, however, and she hurried in the direction of the lifts that led to the Maternity Ward. Being the eldest of four children and ten years older than her youngest sibling, Em quite knew the way.
"Emerson! There you are."
Her head whipped around and she smiled. "Uncle Remus." Giving him a quick hug, she pulled away and peered up at him. "How is she?"
Lyna's father was looking pale and tired, his grey hair and eyes adding to the weary air that clung to him. This was his first grandchild and Em could only imagine the myriad emotions he must be experiencing. "She's resting a bit. They gave her medication, of course, so she's not in any pain at the moment. She kept asking for you."
"Well, I'm here now," Em said, as they headed for Lyna's room. Davis's parents and other family members were sitting in chairs outside the room and she said a quick hello to them before slipping inside.
Aunt Tonks, Davis and Lyna's sister, Annamaria, looked up when she entered. "Emerson. Thank goodness you're here. She's been fretting that you wouldn't make it in time."
Em hugged each of them in turn before sitting down beside her friend's bed. Lyna was asleep on her side, her knees drawn up to her swollen belly, her breathing slow and even. From what Aunt Tonks was saying, Lyna had been in labor for almost nine hours and had only just nodded off.
"Having had a few false alarms, she wanted to be certain that this was the real thing before she had you come over. She knows you've been really busy," Aunt Tonks said, smoothing the edge of the blanket.
Emerson smiled at her friend. "That's our Lyna. Always thinking of others. Any idea when she might deliver?"
Annamaria shrugged. "At last check the Healer said she was only about five centimeters. So it could be a while yet."
"How're you doing, Davis?" Em asked the ash-blond wizard, who was staring at his sleeping wife with a tender expression. "You hanging in there?"
Davis nodded weakly. "You could say that, I guess."
"Think you'll faint?"
Annamaria answered before he could. "Nah. I think he'll puke."
Everybody snorted and Davis smiled genially. "Whatever, Anna. My baby will love me, anyway."
"Yes, he will," said a voice from the bed and everybody's heads whipped around. "Hi, Em."
"Lyna!" She threw her arms around her friend and they hugged each other tightly. Em pulled away and peered down into Lyna's honey eyes, feeling suddenly emotional. "How're you?"
Her friend smiled. "I'm okay. Scared, nervous, excited. I still can't believe I'll be somebody's mother, but I can't wait to meet him."
Em squeezed her hand and nodded. They talked quietly for a few minutes before the door of the room opened and the Healer entered, followed by Emerson's mother.
"Mum!" Em exclaimed, jumping up to hug her. "What're you doing here?"
Her mother squeezed her tightly before pulling away. "Lyna wants me to help with the delivery. Even though I'm strictly Magical Research and not Obstetrics."
"I just feel more comfortable when you're here, Aunt Hermione," Lyna said from the bed. "Healer Marshall's all right with it."
Hermione walked over and took her hand. "I'm honored to be here, Carolyna. How're you feeling?"
Before Lyna could answer, Healer Marshall announced that he was about to check her again. He discovered that she'd only progressed another inch, and everybody sat around to wait. The hours dragged by, and Lyna took little catnaps in between the examinations. Em had just returned from sending Brandon an owl, letting him know that she was in town, when the Healer announced that Lyna was fully dilated and ready to push.
Everyone gathered around excitedly, holding her hands, supporting her head and legs, urging her on, counting aloud. But an hour went by and although Lyna worked very hard, she didn't make very much progress at all, and the tension mounted steadily in the room. After another thirty minutes, she was tired and upset, her hair damp with sweat.
"I can't do this," she sobbed, tossing her head on the pillow.
Davis looked stricken, his skin as pale as his hair. He was holding her hand tightly, as if trying to transmit some of his strength to her that way. "You can, baby. You can do it."
Lyna's face was flushed and tear-stained and Em's heart ached for her friend. Aunt Tonks wiped Lyna's forehead and dropped a kiss on it, while Hermione conferred with the Healer in hushed whispers. After a minute, she went over and rubbed Lyna's arm soothingly.
"Lyna, your baby is right there, okay? Don't lose focus now. I know it's hard, but just focus, all right? Can you do that for me?"
"Y-yes," Lyna said, tears spilling out the sides of her eyes.
"All right. Let's do this," Hermione said, nodding at the Healer, who was already in position. "Push her leg back, Davis. You too, Anna. All right. Now, there's another contraction. Take a deep breath, press your chin to your chest, Lyna, and push."
Lyna did as she was told, her face scrunched up and reddening with the exertion. Her grip on Emerson's hand was so tight that Em fancied there would be bruises the next day. Hermione counted out the seconds in a strong, clear voice and Em felt almost as if everybody were helping Lyna push out her son. She had never been more proud of her best friend than she was in those long minutes, when Lyna was so clearly exhausted but still she remained focused; still she regrouped and pushed. Davis began to cry when the baby crowned and not long afterwards, the tiny boy finally emerged from his mother and loudly announced his arrival into the world.
"Oh my God, oh my God," Lyna was sobbing over and over again as the Healer placed the squalling infant on her stomach. "My baby. My baby."
Everybody was in tears, hugging each other and laughing as the baby's voice filled their ears. Em felt overwhelmed. She watched in somewhat of a daze as the baby was cleaned, wrapped in blankets and placed in his mother's arms. She watched Davis and Lyna lovingly examine him, whispering to each other in awed tones as they counted his little fingers and toes. They seemed lost in their own blissful world and Emerson's heart ached at the raw joy on both their faces.
And just like that, the old grief and guilt stabbed her in the chest, stabbed her so hard that her breath caught in her throat. This could've been her. This could've been her lying on that hospital bed, shedding tears of happiness over her child while Brandon gazed down at her as adoringly as Davis was looking at his wife.
"So what's the sprog's name, then?" Annamaria asked loudly, jolting Emerson from her anguished thoughts.
Lyna laughed. "Oh, that's right! You ready, Davis?"
"Yeah," Davis said, beaming with pride at his new son. "This perfect little bloke is hereby christened Rhys Theodore Chapman."
Aunt Tonks burst into tears at their having named their son after her father, Theodore "Ted" Tonks, while Uncle Remus, who had come in upon hearing Rhys's first cries, shook Davis's hand and kissed his daughter's cheek. Somebody else was wondering loudly whether the baby's first name had anything to do with those Muggle peanut butter chocolates, to the giddy laughter of the new parents, but Emerson felt suddenly separate from it all, as if she were merely watching strangers through a glass window.
It could've been me on that bed. That could've-
"Emerson."
Em blinked rapidly, trying to rearrange her face before she looked up. Davis and Lyna were beaming at her from atop the bed, their precious bundle nestled in Lyna's arms. "Come here. Rhys wants to meet his godmother."
Her head pounding from the effort of keeping herself composed, she walked over and gingerly accepted the tiny, ruddy-faced boy, who was fast asleep and oblivious to all the emotions swirling around him.
"He's beautiful, Lyna," Em whispered, smiling through her tears at her friend. "He's gorgeous."
She held Rhys for a few more minutes then kissed his small forehead and handed him back to his mother.
Lyna looked up from her baby's face. "Thank you so much for being here. I know you're insanely busy and-"
"Lyna, please," Em interrupted. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world; it was a beautiful experience. Thank you for letting me share it with you."
They hugged each other then Em hugged Davis and Annamaria too. Remus and Tonks had gone out to inform those waiting outside and Em desperately wanted to leave the room before she lost control of herself and broke down. She could sense her mother's inquiring eyes on her and managed to force a smile.
"I think I'm gonna go grab some sleep. I'm completely knackered. Which I'm sure is nothing to how you feel, eh?" She leaned over to kiss Lyna and Rhys. "I'll see you tomorrow, all right? Bye, Mum."
Then, slipping out of the room before her mother could question her, she quickly made her way through the ecstatic family members milling about outside, a smile plastered onto her face. The distress churned within her, causing her hands to tremble and her ears to ring, the ache, the hurt building inside until she feared that she would lose it right there in the hallway.
But then suddenly, he was there, his brown eyes seeing right through her and turning heavy with understanding, and she had never been so happy to see him in all her life. Brandon. He'd clearly gotten her owl and had come over, and oh God, she needed him. She stumbled to his arms, tears blurring her vision.
"Take me home, Odie. Please," she managed to choke out.
He steered her to the nearest deserted corridor and pulled out his personal Portkey. The next second she was in his apartment and all her defenses fell apart. The pain whipped and lashed her and she collapsed against him, defeated. All the tears, all the anguished noises that she'd tried so hard to keep in now gushed forth and she cried as if her heart was breaking.
She wasn't aware of being led to his bedroom. Vaguely, through her grief, she registered him pulling his covers back and helping her climb in. Vaguely she was aware of him climbing in with her, gathering her into his arms again, his voice steady and soothing even over the gut-wrenching sounds that issued from her throat. How long she cried, she didn't know but gradually the ache lessened enough for her tears to decrease, though it was a long time before they ceased altogether. The whole time Brandon held her fiercely, whispering words in a language that she didn't understand but which were exactly what she needed nevertheless.
He stroked her hair and kissed her sweaty forehead. "I love you. It's okay."
Em sighed deeply and looked up into his eyes, tears leaking from her own again.
He leaned forward and kissed her tears away. "Go to sleep. I'm here."
She must have obeyed because when she next opened her eyes, the room was darker and she was alone. There were lit candles floating in the air above the dresser. The alarm clock on his nightstand told her that she'd slept a little over two hours and rubbing her eyes, which felt grainy and leaden, Emerson sat up and stretched. Just then, the door opened and Brandon came in, levitating a tray ahead of him.
"Oh, you're awake," he said, coming over and setting the tray down on his nightstand.
A delicious, rich smell was filling the room and she gave him a quizzical look.
"I made you some soup," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Thought you might be hungry."
"Thank you," she said softly and was startled by how scratchy her voice sounded. She must've been really letting loose.
As if the same thought had occurred to him, Brandon touched her cheek. "Are you okay now?"
Em shrugged weakly. "I don't know."
"Well, maybe you'll feel better if you eat something."
He started to get up but knowing suddenly what would make her feel better, she grabbed his hand. "Brandon."
He looked back at her. "What is it?"
"Make love to me."
He stared at her for a few moments before leaning forward and kissing her tenderly. She kissed him back, and as his lips wandered to her neck, his fingers gently cupping her face, Em realized that he intended to take her at her word. He intended to make sweet, tender love to her, per her request.
And suddenly, she realized that that wasn't what she wanted after all. She wanted something that was as unrefined, as frenzied, as raw as she felt inside. She wanted it all out.
"Brandon."
He pulled away. "Hmm?"
"I changed my mind." His eyes began to cloud and she hurried on. "I don't want to make love. I want to fuck."
That fevered, dangerous look that she much recognized came into his eyes then, and she shivered. His hands burrowed under her top, pushed her bra up and cupped her breasts. She moaned, then gasped when his fingers clamped down on her hardened nipples.
"Is this what you want?" he whispered, his teeth grazing the skin of her earlobe.
He pulled her nipples, squeezing them roughly and she moaned, leaning into his hands, welcoming the pain that mingled with the pleasure, feeling her knickers rapidly moisten.
"Yes."
He kissed her and it was so far removed from the tender caresses of mere minutes ago that her breath died in her lungs. He slipped out of his clothes and divested her of her own before his hands delved between her legs. Emerson cried out when his fingers pushed into her, his thumb circling her nub while his lips plundered the skin of her neck. Her whole body felt on fire and she couldn't help the whimper of dismay that escaped her mouth when his fingers left her.
But then he settled on top of her and the next second, his fingers had been replaced by the very best thing they could possibly have been replaced by and she locked her legs around his hips as he rode her. He slammed into her repeatedly, harder and faster, and she surrendered to him, giving him her body, her heart, her pain, her everything. Trusting him with all she had that he could and would put out the multi-faceted storm that raged within her.
And all the while, he whispered, "Is this what you want? Is this what you want?"
Her mouth opened but she couldn't get the words out, couldn't answer him, because her mind was being taken over. The furious torrent began swelling within her and her hips rose to meet his, again and again, her voice finally breaking free but not with any words that could be either comprehended or translated. The sound echoed through the room, sweat beading on her forehead, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her heart pounding a rhythm with the blood in her ears.
He left her but before she could even register the loss, his mouth was on her, working its magic, driving her higher still, wilder still, louder still. Her back arched as she came in a blinding rush, sobbing from the sweet agony of it, the pain and pleasure all rolled up in one. His mouth disappeared and he slid back up her body and sheathed himself within her again, filling her so completely that she cried out. He began to move so slowly that even as the tremors of release continued to wrack her body, she wanted to scream with frustration at the pace he was setting.
"Is this what you want?" He rolled them over so that she was on top and grasping her hips, began to drive up into her. "Is this what you need?"
She called out his name helplessly in response. "Brandon!"
He crushed her to him, his breath harsh in her ear. "Oh Merlin, Em. Fuck me."
A delicious wave of sensation swept over her at his words and she began to move as if she would die if she ever slowed, if she ever stopped. He groaned and flipped them again, pushing her legs back against her chest. He was gripping her hips with a strength that would probably have her sporting bruises the next day but she didn't care. Nothing else mattered but him and what he was giving her, what she was giving him. The new position allowed for maximum penetration and she felt like he was touching her very soul.
"I love you. I love you," she sobbed.
He kissed her and the taste of herself on his lips had her clenching involuntarily as his thrusts took on an urgency that left her helpless to do anything but gasp open-mouthed. He had never been quite so rough with her before, but it must have excited her on some primal level because she came so hard that she literally blacked out, dragging him over the tumultuous edge with her, released and enraptured.
Freed. At least for a little while.
When she woke up the second time, he was asleep beside her, his breaths even and deep. Emerson lay still for a long time, watching him as consciousness slowly returned to her. The first thing she was aware of was that she was starving and she slipped silently out of the bed, all her muscles awakening to scream in protest. Walking gingerly to the bathroom, she took a long, hot shower, which did away with much of the aches.
After drying off, she wrapped herself in one of Brandon's bathrobes and headed to the kitchen, where she reheated the soup he'd made and slapped together some sandwiches. Upon ravenously eating her fill, she conjured up a fire in his fireplace and sat staring at the jumping orange flames. She held herself still, trying not to think about how she'd fallen apart, trying not to acknowledge the one thought that had repeatedly been plaguing her, the one thought that she couldn't bring herself to share with anyone.
She could just imagine what Dr. Frasier would say. The doctor would say that she was merely projecting her guilt over the unwanted pregnancy into yet another avenue, yet another outlet, milking it for all it was worth. And maybe she was right. Maybe that was all it was, but it didn't make the fear any less real.
Emerson sighed. A sound behind her made her whip around and she smiled. Brandon was walking towards her, wrapped in another of his bathrobes, his hair wet from the shower. She must've been deeper in thought than she'd realized because she hadn't heard the water running.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hi," he repeated.
He sounded almost shy and she tried not to smile. "Are you hungry? I made sandwiches."
"No, I'm okay, thanks." He walked over and sat down beside her on the couch. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
She shook her head and kissed him lightly on the lips. "No. On the contrary, I feel loads better. Nothing like an energetic shag to lift one's spirits."
His dark eyes twinkled with amusement. "Well, glad to have been of service."
"And such excellent service, too," she whispered, reaching out to give his crotch an affectionate squeeze.
She smirked at the sound he made before leaning back against him. His arms wrapped around her and they were quiet for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Brandon broke the silence, revealing the direction of his musings. "How's Carolyna?"
Em smiled. "She's okay. It was a really long and hard labor but once the baby arrived, she seemed to immediately forget all that had happened before." She fell quiet for a minute. "He's beautiful, you know. The baby. They named him Rhys Theodore. He looks like Davis but I think he's gonna have Lyna's eyes."
She felt him nod but it was awhile before he spoke. "Emerson?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you, you know-"
He hesitated and she twisted around to look at him, knowing what he was asking. "Jealous?"
He nodded, his eyes gentle.
"No," she answered. "I'm completely thrilled for them. It's just, it hurts at the same time. I'm not exactly sure why, actually, but it does. But no, I'm not jealous. I know I'm not ready to be a mother. I'm still a bit too selfish."
He leaned back to gape at her incredulously. "You? Selfish?"
"When it comes to you, I am," she explained. "Remember Thanksgiving and Eric? I didn't want to share your attention with him and that was only for three days. A child, especially our own, is for a lifetime and while I definitely do want that eventually, I'm not quite ready to share you just yet."
"Okay," he said softly, hugging her to him and dropping a few light kisses on her neck and shoulder.
"Brandon?"
"Yeah?"
"Where do you see yourself in five years?"
He was silent for a moment and she looked up to see him biting his bottom lip, his brow furrowed as he stared into the fire. "In five years, I see myself at a somewhat higher level in the hierarchy at work. I see myself playing more of an active role in our families' corporation." He looked down at her and smiled. "I see myself married to you."
Emerson blushed, a warm glow spreading through her whole being. She beamed at him before sobering as a thought occurred to her. "Do we have, you know, children?"
"No," he said quietly. "Not yet."
She nodded, feeling on the verge of tears all of a sudden as that one pesky, persistent thought again jumped into her head, hammering against the forefront of her mind. "I'm so scared," she blurted.
He peered at her with concern. "Of what?"
"What if I can't... again? What if that was my one chance and I blew it?"
There, the words were out. That was the thought that had been weighing on her ever since that horrible night on the floor of her bathroom at Harvard. That was the thought that kept jumping in to pollute the pool of her happiness for her best friend. That was the thought that wouldn't go away.
Brandon turned her face to his. "It wasn't and you didn't. We'll have children, Emerson. You'll see. We'll have a whole gaggle of them."
She smiled through her tears. "A gaggle?"
"Sure, if that's what you want." At her snickers, he adopted a quizzical look. "Why? We can't have a gaggle?"
"Well, certainly. If we were having geese or something."
They burst into hysterical laughter, gripping each other, and as always when she heard his merry sounds, Emerson felt so much better.
He sobered first and caressed her face as he gazed into her eyes. "We will have children, Em."
And she believed him. "Okay." Hope bubbled inside her and she leaned back against his chest and sighed deeply. After a few moments, she spoke again. "How many do you want?"
"As many as you do."
Em smiled. "I want two. A boy and a girl. I want the boy first."
"I'll keep that in mind, madam," he said, sounding amused.
She sighed again and nothing much was uttered thereafter. They sat quietly in the deepening darkness as the flames died away in the fireplace until only glowing coals were left. Then, still without speaking, they walked hand in hand back to the bedroom, shrugged out of their robes, climbed into bed and fell asleep.
**********
It was weak, grey daylight that woke her a few hours later and she turned her face away and reached out for the warm
body of the man she loved. Her questing fingers came up empty, however, and she opened her eyes. She was alone in the
bed and a quick glance at the clock on his bedside table informed her that it was after ten o'clock.
Em sighed. It was a weekday and Brandon had obviously gone to work, which the note on his pillow confirmed.
That's good, right? Because this way you have some time to come clean with your parents.
The thought made her freeze and she squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she needed to do this, to tell her parents about the pregnancy and miscarriage. Dr. Frasier had been urging her to do that from the very beginning, saying that a large part of the guilt Em was experiencing was due to keeping such a huge secret from her folks. And she was right, Em knew, but it was just so hard! It was so hard.
"But I have to do it," she whispered to herself, refolding Brandon's note. "I have to. Besides, I'm pretty sure Mum knows something is up, especially after how I was acting last night."
There was nothing else to do but square her shoulders and do the right thing. She had a great relationship with her parents, and they loved her. Emerson forced herself to keep those thoughts in mind as she got ready to go over to Ballynore, but her heart pounded in her chest nevertheless. She was so nervous that she couldn't even eat the buttered toast that she made for herself and finally just drank a glass of water and Disapparated.
The Ballynore arrival chimes filled her ears and she smiled in spite of herself. No matter how many times she heard them the sound never failed to fill her with that rush of happiness, of coming home to where she belonged and a soft place to fall.
That's what you should count on right now. That soft place...
Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the family room, just as her mother emerged from the kitchen.
"Hey there," Mum said, breaking into a wide smile.
Em smiled back. "Mum."
They hugged each other. "I'm so happy to see you. How're you?"
Em shrugged. "I'm all right. A bit tired."
"Want something to eat? Drink?"
Her stomach still churned in anxiety and she shook her head. "Maybe some tea."
"Okay."
Em followed her mother into the kitchen and sat at the breakfast nook while her Mum charmed some water to boil. Her feet were jiggling in nervousness under the table and she kept clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap. She accepted the cup of fragrant chamomile tea that her mother presented and took a sip.
"Thank you."
Mum sat down across from her. "So, how's everything going? Are you still managing with your coursework?"
Em seized the opportunity to put off making her confession. "Yeah. It's gotten a lot easier, actually. Last year was more of a struggle because I was still learning my limits and figuring out how much I could handle at one time." She paused and took another sip. "Also it helps that now the end is coming within sight and that keeps me motivated, you know?"
"I can understand that," Mum said, nodding. "Nothing like the prospect of accomplishment to really spur one on."
"Something I've noticed with the classes is that most of them are inter-related. Like, if you've done Microbiology, chances are when you get around to Clinical Studies, which I'm doing this term, a lot of the things are very familiar. I don't know if it's like that in other fields, though."
Mum tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Yes, that's true. It's mostly in the scientific professions, I believe, because so many things tie in together."
They talked for a while about the similarities between magical research and the Muggle variety, and then the conversation turned to their family. Mum had received another owl about Budget from Hogwarts, which was not at all surprising anymore.
"We've gotten more owls about him than all of the rest of you combined," Hermione sighed. "I think I understand how Molly Weasley felt when Fred and George were at Hogwarts."
Em grinned. "What did he do this time?"
"I'm not even sure I remember. All his pranks and misbehaving have quite begun to get mixed up in my mind." She sighed again and rolled her eyes. "Of course your father doesn't consider it anything serious. He finds the whole thing funny. Boys will be boys and all that."
Emerson stiffened at her mother's mention of her father and the anxiety that had shifted to the back of her mind now returned to the forefront with a vengeance. Mum was talking about Davina and how the second year had started a campaign of sorts to have more of the Arts at Hogwarts, but Em was so distracted now that she could only nod and offer weak smiles.
Her mother's voice faded and Em looked up to find herself being watched concernedly. "Something on your mind?"
"Is Dad here?" she asked, stalling.
"No. He's at the office, but he might be coming by for lunch. Why?"
Em didn't answer, feeling her heart start to pound and a knot twisting in her stomach. "Um-"
"Is this about Lyna?" Mum asked, her voice soft.
Em looked up quickly. "Lyna? Why? Has something happened since-"
"No, no, she's fine. Rhys is fine. It's just that you looked a little distressed last night, after the delivery. And you left quickly afterwards, almost as if you were running away."
Biting the inside of her mouth, Em suppressed a grudging smile. She could never hide anything from her mother, not for long. Mum could read her, could read any of her loved ones like a book. The only reason she'd managed to keep her secret as long as she had was because she no longer lived at home and was, in fact, a continent away the vast majority of the time.
"I can understand why it would be strange for you," Mum was saying, and Em's heart seized in her chest. But then she continued. "I imagine it was strange seeing your best friend make such a huge step. You two have been best friends since you were five years old, and now Lyna's an adult in every real sense of the word. That must've been a bit jarring."
Feeling tears pricking at her eyes, Em took deep gulps of air and put down her half-empty cup. "No, it's not that. I mean, it was jarring, but not for the reason you think."
"Why was it jarring?" Mum asked quietly.
"Because-" her voice caught in her throat and she swallowed hard, tears spilling from her eyes. "Because it hit me that I could've been the one on that bed."
There was a brief silence before her mother spoke again, sounding bewildered. "What?"
"When I went back to school after Christmas, I discovered that I was pregnant," Em rushed on, staring unseeingly into the cup before her.
And suddenly, it was as if she couldn't stop talking. It was as if that first sentence had shattered whatever it was that had been holding her back and the words were just pouring out of her mouth, all her fear, all the tears and agonizing that she'd done. She talked about the miscarriage, the blinding pain, about Brandon finding her on the floor of her bathroom, about learning that the pregnancy was ectopic. Through the sobs that overtook her, she talked about her guilt, about not wanting the baby and being happy that it was gone. She talked about Brandon, about how wonderful he was, how hard it had been to be around him, her fear of the loss of him and the discovery that that fear had been unwarranted because he loved her, still loved her so much in spite of how horrible she had been to him.
"I'm really sorry I d-d-didn't tell you. I'm so s-sorry, Mum!" she choked. "But I was so scared!"
Her mother was gaping at her wide-eyed, her face white with shock. She didn't speak for a long time, just stared at Em, until finally she closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm not quite sure I believe what I just heard. Are you telling me that you were pregnant?"
Em nodded. "Yes."
"But you had a miscarriage?"
"Y-yes."
"Because it was ectopic?"
Em sobbed and nodded.
Her mother's voice had dropped to a deadly whisper. "And you're only just telling me this?"
"I'm sorry, Mum. I wanted to tell you but-"
"But what, Emerson?" Mum interrupted sharply, her brown eyes boring into Em's. "How could you not tell us something like that? What were you afraid of? Did you think we wouldn't be there for you?"
"No, I-I didn't think that. I-"
"Then, what? When was this, again? After Christmas? Seven, eight months ago? And you're only just telling me now? Why? Why, Emerson?"
Em couldn't look at her, couldn't bear the look on her mother's face. "Because I was ashamed. I knew you would be disappointed in me and I couldn't bear to tell you."
"Emerson, I'm not so much disappointed as hurt. I'm hurt that you didn't trust me enough to share something like that with me. I thought we had a good relationship? I thought we had something where you knew you could come to me with anything."
The pain in her mother's voice, and the knowledge that she was the cause of that pain had Em sobbing anew. Never had it crossed her mind that this could be the effect of her secret. She'd always thought that disappointment would her parents' initial response to her irresponsibility. She'd never thought that it would hurt them that she kept it from them, and all she could do was repeatedly say how sorry she was.
"I never meant to hurt you," she whispered miserably.
Her mother's eyes were wet, but before she could say anything, the arrival chimes began to ring and they both froze. Em hastily wiped at her eyes but before she could do anything else, her father strode into the room.
"Hermione? Oh, there you- Emerson!"
Em tried to smile but she was too miserable to really succeed. "Hi, Dad."
The smile died on his face as he looked at her. "Have you been crying? What's wrong?" He glanced over at Mum and frowned. "Hermione? Has something happened?"
Mum stood up. "I'll leave you two to talk."
"Mum, please don't go," Em said quickly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Please?"
Her mother blinked rapidly, took a deep breath and sat down again, her face tight.
Feeling weak, Emerson sat down too and looked up at her father. "Dad, there's something I need to tell you. Could you-" she gestured at the chairs.
He obeyed, looking worried. "What is it?"
"I should've told you a long time ago and I'm really sorry that I didn't. I never thought-" She made herself stop and take a deep breath. Then, staring at her hands, she repeated the whole story, everything she'd just shared with her mother. When she had no more words, her voice faded from the room and a horrible silence stretched for what felt like an eternity. Her father stood up so abruptly that Emerson started and looked up. He strode over to the paneled glass windows and stood rigidly with his back to them, his hands shoved into his pockets.
"Dad? Please say something."
"Say what, Emerson?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "What do you want me to say? Oh, perhaps I should start by expressing my disbelief at how you seem to have managed to discard everything your mother and I have taught you about responsibility, about owning your own actions, about standing up and being accountable."
"Daddy-"
He spun around, his green eyes blazing with myriad emotions. "Perhaps I should then move on to sharing how angry it makes me that you kept something like that from us, the knowledge that we almost lost our daughter, the knowledge that there was a time when she desperately needed us but somebody decided that it wasn't our business-"
"Daddy, I'm sorry-"
"-somebody decided that she was too grown to need us, that she was too old, too wise, too mature to ask for help, the help that we wouldn't have hesitated to give to her because we love her."
"I'm so sorry, Daddy."
"How could you keep this from us, Emerson? Why? What did you think we would do? Are we such horrible parents that you were afraid to come to us? Have we not supported you in everything? Have we not been there for you?"
The look in his eyes was killing her and Em felt like her heart was breaking. She never thought they would respond this way. Oh God, how she wished she hadn't kept it quiet! At least, not for so long. She should've told them before now; she should've told them a long time ago.
"I don't understand," he said, his voice rising with hurt and anger. "Help me understand! Tell me what you were thinking, Em, because I don't get it!"
"Harry," Mum interjected.
His head whipped around and when he spoke, it was in a chill whisper. "Can I talk to my daughter, please, Hermione?"
Mum gave him a cold look but didn't speak and he turned back to Em. She wiped her eyes with trembling hands and gazed into the wounded face of the man she looked up to, the man she admired so much. The man she had just hurt so badly.
"I'm sorry," was all she could say. "I'm sorry, Daddy."
He stared at her for a second before his face broke and he grabbed her. He hugged her fiercely and she could feel him trembling, which made her start to cry again. She felt Mum's arms encircle them both and for a long minute, they wept together in the kitchen.
"I am so stupid," Em said hoarsely when they finally pulled apart. "I kept thinking about how disappointed you would be, because it had been only weeks before that I'd been telling you how mature I was, that I could handle what I was trying to do."
Her father squeezed her hand and she continued. "And I wondered, was I pregnant at that time? When I was convincing you of my bloody maturity, was I already-" her voice broke and she had to stop and compose herself. "T-The thing that really bothers me about the whole thing is my response to the miscarriage. I couldn't deny that I'd felt a rush of relief when I realized what it meant. And that really haunted me, because it made me see a very unpleasant side of myself."
"It was a normal response, Em," Mum said gently. "And now that I've had a chance to calm down a bit, I understand why you didn't tell us."
Em looked up, hope bubbling within her. "You do?"
"I don't agree with what you did, and I'm still very hurt and angry that you chose to keep this from us for so long. But I can understand why you made that choice."
Neither of them spoke for a few minutes and Emerson was feeling very small and miserable, indeed. She wished Brandon was there, and with that thought, felt suddenly alarmed.
Her head jerked up and she gazed anxiously at her parents. "Please don't blame Brandon for this, okay? He was wonderful. He was coming down every weekend after it happened and he was urging me to talk to someone, but it was my choice not to tell you. I decided to talk to Dr. Frasier, though, just for that impartiality, and because she's helped me before."
Her parents exchanged glances. "So that's why he was visiting so often. We wondered about that, of course, and when we questioned him, he simply said he really missed you and was grabbing the chances while he could. I thought it was sweet," Mum said.
Dad scowled. "He lied to us, Hermione. There's nothing sweet about that."
"I made him promise not to tell you," Em insisted. "It's not his fault."
"Not his fault? He impregnated you, didn't he?"
"I was there, too, Dad!" Em cried. "It was our mistake. And he suffered unfairly for it, when he was just trying to be there for me and I couldn't stand to be around him."
Her mother sighed and rubbed her eyes wearily. "Did you say you've been talking to Dr. Frasier?"
Em nodded. "Yes. She's been great. She's helped me a lot, but I still have a ways to go, I think. I'm still guilty about not wanting the baby, and I'm scared that I won't ever get another shot at it."
"If you hadn't miscarried, what would you have done?" Mum asked, regarding her closely.
Em felt startled by the question. She had of course thought about it many times but she hadn't expected her parents to ask her that. Pulling her hands away from her father's, she folded them in her lap as the image of Lyna in the hospital bed with her newborn baby floated into her mind and her eyes filled up. If she hadn't miscarried, she would've had a baby too. Her and Lyna's babies would've been a month apart in age, just like she and Lyna were.
"If I hadn't miscarried-" Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes for a second. "I would've... I would've left school, I guess. I would've married Brandon and had our baby. I would've loved that child; I know I would have!"
Her mother gathered her into her arms and held her close. "Of course you would have, Em. Of course you would have. Shh, it's okay. "
It took her a while to calm down but once she did, Em pulled away and shakily wiped her eyes. "I'm quite a crybaby, aren't I?" Taking a deep breath, she looked between them, these wonderful people who loved her. "Mum, Dad, I can't apologize enough. I am so sorry. No matter how much of an adult I am, it was wrong to keep something like that from you. I know you worry about me being so far away from home, and learning something like this doesn't help. I'm really sorry and I hope you can forgive me, for everything."
Her father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking suddenly weary. "I'm going to need a little time to assimilate everything, get my head sorted out." Standing up, he stepped away from the table. "I think I'm going to go lie down for a bit."
"I'll go with you," Mum said, standing up as well. "Try to eat something, Em, and get some rest. When are you going back to school?"
"Early tomorrow morning," she answered.
Her mother nodded. "All right. This isn't over. We'll need to have a long, honest talk with you and Brandon. But we love you, you know that, don't you?"
"I know."
She watched them walk hand in hand out of the room and for a long time just sat numbly in the empty kitchen, her tea cooling steadily in the cup before her.
********
TBC
********
End Notes:
1. Lyna's son's name, Rhys, is pronounced "Reese". That's how I'd originally had it spelled, but my awesome beta, Lissanne, recommended I use the traditional Welsh spelling of the name, and I agreed. It looks so much cooler that way.
2. Two more chapters, an epilogue and this is over. I haven't written the last chapter or the epilogue yet, but I'm determined to do it before June 1st. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone beckons!