Chapter Text
CW: Transphobia, Trauma, Referenced Child Abuse, Implied & Referenced Classism, Teen Pregnancy
~~~~~ Emilia Potter ~~~~~
VII: Toads and Hormones
~~~~~ Emilia Potter ~~~~~
January 14th, 1996
Hogwarts Grounds
“I don't need protecting, Ronald,” Emilia snapped, a bit agitated at how close Ron was walking by her side. Unlike the other Prefects, he'd hung back to support her, which she appreciated… But she didn't need to be coddled, dammit.
“Yeah, you say that now, but who knows what Malfoy would've done if you hadn't had an accidental?” Ron whispered back. While he was on her left, Lavender was on her right and Daphne on Lavender's right. Faye and Parvati had gone on ahead after spotting Sophie.
“Nothing if he knew what was good for him,” Emilia said darkly, palming her wand in her back pocket. Ever since finding out Hogwarts didn't actually require they wear uniforms, she'd opted for casual clothes. While she'd put her jacket back on, it still went well with the jeans and jumper she'd opted for.
“Does he ever?” Lavender asked derisively, causing Emilia to purse her lips. Didn't have a retort for that.
“How's your nausea?” Daphne asked, opting to change the topic.
“Not so bad, though I'm sure her Toadiness will bring it back by virtue of existing,” Emilia said bitterly. She never liked Umbridge, and was almost certain the woman had it out for her. It was only Amelia’s warning back in August not to be alone with Umbridge that had Emilia getting McGonagall to overrule or take over every detention Umbridge assigned. Some of which were for something as simple as blinking too much.
Even Snape wasn't that sadistically fixated, fuck.
As they walked the path - Emilia wanted fresh air and the rocking of a carriage would almost certainly worsen her nausea - she noticed a figure approaching. Tall and thin, with a familiar shorter and curvier figure by her side. McGonagall and Hermione. She couldn't help feeling relieved even though it made sense. Hermione alone had at least half a foot on Umbridge, and McGonagall was almost a head taller than Hermione herself. Even if Malfoy was faster than Hermione, he couldn't make up for Umbridge's short stature and even shorter stride.
“Hey love,” Emilia murmured when Hermione drew her into a tight hug.
“How are you?” Hermione asked worriedly as she pulled back and began inspecting Emilia thoroughly.
“‘m fine,” Emilia managed between squished cheeks. “Hermione, I'm fine,” she reiterated, pulling her girlfriend's hands down. “Seriously, I'm okay. Nausea’s down, I’ve been eating, and I've been kept company. I'm fine.”
Hermione sighed, unconvinced. “Okay,” she conceded all the same, though she went to Emilia’s left, making Ron scooch over finally. Though now Emilia’s hand was literally being held. She decided it was fine since Hermione was probably doing it for herself, not just Emilia.
“Miss Potter,” McGonagall addressed her kindly. “I hear you've had an eventful train ride.” She went to Emilia’s right, wedging between her and Lavender, though with a more respectable degree of personal space than the other teens had been giving.
“That's one way to put it,” Emilia groused. “But you can relax at least a little, Professor. Daphne and Lavender know about my… Condition,” she decided, even though she didn't consider it a ‘condition’ as much as an unexpected yet pleasant gift. Then again, other pregnant women may have felt differently. Who was she to say?
“I see… Well, could you tell me the story in your own words?” McGonagall asked gently.
Emilia sighed. “Daphne, Lavender, and I were in the compartment relaxing when Draco intruded. He thought I was Hermione, so I explained I was simply under the effects of Polyjuice potion. I didn't see fit to explain why, though for others my story has been that it's to alleviate dysphoria. He decided to call me a transphobic slur - ‘fairy’ - and then when I told him to leave - well, ‘sod off’ - he called me a freak. That's when I had the Accidental, but Dean, Seamus, and Neville were in the opposing compartment. They think I used my wand because Daphne told me to draw it just to be safe.”
“Hm. Well done, Miss Greengrass. I would award points to Slytherin, but I don't want to tip the… High Inquisitor off. So I'll simply reduce the amount I'll deduct from Mister Malfoy when this is over,” McGonagall said, sighing as she rubbed her temple. Disguised as human or not, Emilia could see the flicker of bluish-green flame in McGonagall’s eyes that spoke to her true nature as a Baobhan Sith. A secret she'd learned by accident, but one that she kept under lock and key.
“From what I heard, Malfoy and Bulstrode were unhurt,” Ron cut in as grimaces appeared across the board when three new figures began to approach. One tall and lean, one of a similar height and more bulky, and one short and offensively pink. “It was just an overpowered banishing charm, and the Express’ cushioning charms kept them unhurt. They just passed out.”
“Good on catching that, Mister Weasley,” McGonagall said as a more confident demeanor took over her. “This should be easily dealt with, then, fingers crossed.”
“Doubt it,” Emilia muttered under her breath as they got close enough to see the sickeningly pleased smile on Umbridge’s face. The woman was short, stocky, and looked old even for a wix, which had to be some kind of accomplishment considering she was in her fifties. She should have looked thirty, but the lined face and tight, graying curls made her appear the way a mundane would at her age. It was kind of sad.
“Well now, Minerva. Have Miss Granger and Mister Potter been spreading a false narrative already?” Umbridge said in that sickly sweet voice of hers. It surprised Emilia that she didn't just croak whenever she spoke, she was so toadlike.
“Miss Granger and Miss Potter were merely apprising me of their side of the story, Dolores,” McGonagall replied sharply. “I would appreciate it if you didn't slander my students so quickly, or address them improperly.”
“Minerva, it's hardly improper. Mister Potter was born a boy and his birth certificate says as such. So unless there is legal proof otherwise, I am perfectly correct to address him as he should be known,” Umbridge answered, though it was blatantly obvious she was just a transphobic bitch. It also didn't escape Emilia’s notice that she didn't apologize for the slander.
“Dolores, this is—”
“It's okay, Professor,” Emilia managed, swallowing her pride even as she wanted to fill her fist with it and make Umbridge’s wide chin look like mashed potatoes… Well, more like mashed potatoes. Her skin was pretty visibly pock-marked, even with the thick makeup she wore. “I'm sure Professor Umbridge will respect my identity once the paperwork is complete, yes?”
“Of course, dear. I'm glad you understand,” Umbridge replied brightly even as her black eyes glittered with malicious glee. Sickening bitch. “Still… I suppose since there are two Professors here with different stories they've been told, it would be best for Mister Malfoy and Mister Potter to share their stories for both of us to hear?”
Looking visibly disgruntled, McGonagall gave a nod of approval. “Mister Malfoy may as well go first,” she said in a clipped tone. “Seeing as I'm sure by now the adrenaline has worn off and his memory is clear, yes?” Her lips were pursed to the point of being nearly a flat line, but her gaze was rather intent.
Draco seemed to falter a bit under McGonagall’s severe look, but he spoke anyway. “Well, I was doing my usual Prefect rounds when I noticed Granger - or at least, who I thought was Granger - in a compartment,” he began, though even his mask of neutrality couldn't hide the fact he clearly hated Emilia’s ‘appearance’.
“And where was Miss Granger, in reality?” McGonagall queried, arching an eyebrow at Hermione.
“Doing my rounds as scheduled,” Hermione replied in the dutiful tone she always used around teachers.
Malfoy grimaced and Bulstrode scowled while Umbridge retained her perfectly neutral, slightly smiling expression. Creepy. “Yes, well… I went to… Remind Granger she shouldn't shirk her duties—”
“Er-hem,” Daphne cut in, clearing her throat.
“Yes, Miss Greengrass?” Umbridge asked, unfazed by the interruption.
“I just wanted to say that Lavender and I can both confirm that Draco’s ‘reminder’ included the phrase ‘I bet the High Inquisitor would love to revoke your badge for this’, verbatim,” Daphne said politely, ever the proper lady around adults - Lavender nodding in vehement agreement. Umbridge also seemed to pay her definite mind - though considering House Greengrass was the main branch of the Viridis Coven, and Daphne its Heiress, Umbridge was probably just appropriately hedging her bets.
“Hm. While I will agree that normally I do not look well upon those who neglect their duties, probation would generally be the first step, Mister Malfoy,” Umbridge said primly. “Revoking one's Prefectship for a first offense is hardly proper… But regardless, you may continue your story.”
Malfoy cleared his throat and tugged at his collar, flushed in obvious shame at being caught in his lie by omission. “Um, of course,” he said awkwardly, shrinking under the hawklike glare McGonagall was now giving him. “Uh… Well, it turned out the one I thought was Granger was actually Potter, Polyjuiced as Granger.”
“I had noticed that, though Mister Malfoy’s explanation allowed me to differentiate the two,” Umbridge mused, giving Emilia a piercing look. “And why are you Polyjuiced as Miss Granger, Mister Potter? Not for anything… inappropriate, I hope?” She gave a chuckle that Emilia felt was more insidious than girlish.
“No, Professor,” Emilia replied neutrally even as she practically crushed Hermione’s hand to keep her cool. To her credit, Hermione gave no outward reaction. “Due to being transgender, I experience strong gender dysphoria. Hermione, being my very understanding girlfriend, brewed some Polyjuice potion and consented to me taking on her form to alleviate the dysphoria. As Lavender and Daphne can confirm - as well as Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Neville Longbottom - the only times I wasn't in the compartment were for bathroom breaks.”
“Is this true, Miss Granger? Miss Greengrass?” Umbridge asked neutrally.
“Yes, Professor,” Hermione answered. “I saw how much emotional pain Emilia was in and suggested the Polyjuice idea myself. This isn't the first time she's taken my form - she's done it a few times over Yule Break as well.”
Daphne nodded. “And yes, she only left for a bathroom break. The longest was the first, but Hermione was on her rounds and went with her - Emilia was feeling nauseous because of how claustrophobic the compartment was after the boys joined us. Hermione made sure Emilia was okay, politely asked them to leave, and then brought Emilia back.”
Umbridge hummed. She seemed to think for a moment, scrutinizing Emilia’s appearance. “And… Do you intend to do this… More?” She asked curiously.
“I do,” Emilia confirmed. “I exchanged letters with Professor McGonagall in her capacity as my Head of House, and she said it would be okay.”
“The potion has been evaluated as being fully-functional twelve-hour doses,” McGonagall added. “As Head Girl and a Gryffindor, I've charged Miss Gallagher with ensuring Miss Potter takes a dose every day at nine am and nine pm, so Miss Potter is perfectly allowed to share a dorm with her fellow female yearmates so long as consent was obtained from all of them. And I intend to procure signed notes before the night is up.”
“I see… Well, I suppose everything is in order in such regards, then,” Umbridge conceded, seeming only mildly disappointed even as her eyes seemed to seethe quite a bit. “Though I expect Mister Potter to ensure he doesn't pretend to Miss Granger's identity, particularly in regards to her rank as Prefect.”
“Of course, Professor,” Emilia agreed stiffly.
“Hm… Well, I suppose that just leaves the use of magic on the Express. Of course, magic itself on the Express isn't illegal even for those underage, but… Mister Malfoy?” Umbridge asked sweetly, as though she still had a trump card to play. Cunt.
Malfoy seemed to perk up as well, his head held a bit higher. “Right. Well, Potter informed me of the… situation, and when I commented on the questionable situation and the impropriety, he—”
“Ahem,” Lavender interrupted, being the one to clear her throat this time.
“Yes, Miss Brown?” Umbridge asked, tone ever so slightly strained. Still, Emilia could tell she wouldn't comment on that style of interruption, considering it would make her a hypocrite and McGonagall was hardly above calling her out on that.
“Well, Professor, Draco’s comments actually had nothing to do with propriety,” Lavender replied sweetly, looking like the cat that ate the canary. “He called Emilia a ‘fairy’, a well-known slur used against trans people of a similar vein as ‘muggle’ or ‘mudblood’. Emilia told him to leave - and while she wasn't the most polite, she was also obviously distressed by being called a slur. Plus, she made sure to inform him his use of the term was bigoted and it was upsetting her mood. Malfoy then decided to say ‘nobody cares about your mood, freak’. Word for word.” Lavender beamed while Malfoy’s expression soured as though he'd been force fed a lemon. “It was then that Emilia - in a fit of distress due to the word ‘freak’ both being transphobic and also a trigger word for her trauma - reacted with magic.”
“Also,” Hermione cut in before Umbridge could reply. “It's well documented by mundane Doctors and magical Healers that traumatic triggers can forcibly engage a fight or flight response in the victim. So Emilia wasn't reacting out of anger, but fear. She was genuinely afraid she would be hurt by Malfoy because he reminded her of her trauma.”
Emilia didn't exactly like the fact her trauma was being used as a defense, but she could neither deny the truth to it nor the fact it was helping her case. So she kept quiet.
“I see… Is this true, Mister Potter? Did you truly fear for your… Safety?” Umbridge asked, almost sounding as though she were actually concerned even as her eyes spoke of her absolute disinterest in how Emilia felt.
Emilia took a deep breath, grateful for Hermione’s firm squeeze of her hand because it was so grounding. “Yes, I… I did. That… Word… Is very upsetting for me, and it caused me to… React…” She gave Malfoy an extremely cold look that made him flinch. “And I would appreciate it if a Prefect and member of the important Inquisitorial Squad would have more… decorum, considering he didn't even have the full story.” She took a bit of vindictive pleasure in the scowl on his face, knowing Umbridge would probably lean in her favor both due to the witnesses and the fact House Black had a lot more influence than House Malfoy, and Emilia was the legal Heiress to the former.
As classist as magical society was, the protections and privilege tended to work in Emilia’s favor as long as she acted ‘proper’.
Umbridge hummed. “And Mister Malfoy and Miss Bulstrode suffered no… lasting damage, it seems,” she said almost bitterly.
“None at all, actually,” Ron piped up. “I was doing rounds near the front of the train - right by the medical wing. I checked in to make sure Malfoy and Bulstrode were okay, and I was told they weren't hurt, just knocked out. All Emilia used was a banishing charm. Normally I wouldn't ask due to medical privacy, but I wanted to make sure Draco hadn't hit his head. Since that would… impair his ability to perform Prefect duties. How fortunate he turned out alright.” The slight edge of sarcasm in his voice caused Emilia to suppress a smile.
Draco fixed Ron with a death glare, but things were just about up.
“Well! It seems that everything was just a… Stressful misunderstanding,” Umbridge decided in a simpering tone.
“Oh… not exactly,” McGonagall said coolly. “It appears Mister Malfoy both harassed Miss Potter and lied to a Professor, Dolores. I should think… Fifty points from Slytherin, and a week of evening detentions with his Head of House starting tomorrow,” she said decidedly. “However I will add the stipulation that if he writes a formal, genuine letter of apology to Miss Potter for his conduct, then I'll do him the kindness of not adding a mark against his record as Prefect.” She then glanced at Bulstrode. “Regarding Miss Bulstrode’s enabling behavior and lack of ability to hold her fellow Prefect accountable, I'll deduct another twenty points and assign three evening detentions with her Head of House, also starting tomorrow. This time she will not face a negative mark on her record, but she will get two if there is a repeat offense.”
Umbridge's expression became a bit pinched and pursed. “Very well, Minerva. As you say,” she conceded, sounding tense and as though she'd been told a relative had keeled over. “If that is… Everything, then I suppose we shall be on our way. I will see you all in class, children,” Umbridge said with a note of finality before turning sharply on a heel and marching off, with a pale Malfoy and queasy-looking Bulstrode hurrying after her.
Hermione sighed, gently extracting her hand and wincing as she flexed it. “Agh… Well, that was… Unpleasant,” she muttered.
Emilia leaned against her girlfriend, sighing as she just. Deflated. “I hate it. I hate dealing with that woman,” she mumbled, shifting to hug Hermione from behind. “I hate having to hide things and lie and pretend it's okay.”
Hermione made a sympathetic sound as she wrapped her arms around her middle, covering Emilia's arms by doing so. “I'm sorry, love,” she murmured.
“Miss Potter… If I may, you handled that very well,” McGonagall said gently as she patted Emilia’s back. “Now… Considering you're no doubt stressed - and, as Miss Granger informed me, have now begun to suffer morning sickness - if you would like to get a private meal brought to Gryffindor Tower, that would be fine. The password is ‘Whimsy Baton’,” she added, sighing a bit. “It seems that portrait has learned of marching parades and musicals, gods help us all.”
The kids exchanged giggles and Emilia thanked her Head of House before accepting the offer. After being asked what she'd like and being told it would be waiting for her, the group was at the castle. McGonagall excused herself first to be at the staff table for the feast, and Daphne and Lav pulled away to share hugs and kisses before going to their respective tables.
“Real Romeo and Juliet, those two,” Ron mused with a chuckle.
“Juliet and Juliet, really,” Hermione chipped in. Then she frowned. “Wait…”
“It's a good thing you're cute, love,” Emilia said, patting her girlfriend's cheek and kissing her.
Hermione pouted, obviously happy to be kissed but mildly affronted by the comment. Emilia giggled and pecked her cheek a couple times. And then her nose. Then her other cheek. “Okay, okay! Hehehehe, stop it! Emmie, it tickles!” Hermione objected between giggles at Emilia’s affection.
“Right, I'm heading out. Gonna wolf down a meal and make sure the younger kids don't… I dunno, listen to the Twins or something,” he said, shrugging and giving Emilia a brief hug. “Stay out of trouble, you.”
“Never,” she said fiercely, smirking and punching his shoulder lightly. He faux-swooned and they traded grins before he ambled off.
“Well… I guess I should go after him,” Hermione said resignedly. “Will you be okay?”
“I'll be fine, love,” Emilia reassured her before giving her girlfriend one last kiss. “Now go on. I'll see you after dinner.”
“See you. Love you,” Hermione murmured. She gently touched Emilia’s belly as well. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
“Love you back,” Emilia murmured before Hermione headed toward the Great Hall, leaving Emilia by herself.
She sighed and turned around to head the opposite direction - one of the staircases that led toward Gryffindor Tower.
One day down, almost. Only so many more to go. And she couldn't deny it was already stressful. Bitterly, she hated that she almost wanted to drop out just from that interaction with Umbridge. If it weren't for that woman, she'd be able to manage. But Umbridge was just… awful.
If nothing else, her legal name and gender marker change would be easy since the magical government was pretty easy to manipulate with influence. Sirius said he'd probably have her paperwork by the beginning of March, Beltane at the latest. So once she filled that out she'd be good there, but she'd be nearing twelve weeks by then, and Molly’s diary entries for Bill said she was truly showing once she got to twelve weeks. So March was the deadline for publicizing it if she wanted to get ahead on this.
Ironically, it was helpful that the potions created by Katrina Insom made to help transgender wixen weren't especially well known. Otherwise it would be asked why she didn't just take those, and if it weren't for her pregnancy she would've done so and probably had a lot less going on.
Yet at the same time, knowing she was growing a baby inside of her, even if it was while Polyjuiced as Hermione… The feeling was immensely euphoric, and she wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
Emotions were so bloody complicated sometimes.
“Password, Miss Granger?” The portrait of the so-called ‘Fat Lady’ asked. Really, she was just a little chubby, but kids could be rude. Also, her name was Agnes.
“Whimsy Baton,” Emilia answered. “But I'm actually Emilia - uh, previously Harry. I'm just Polyjuiced as Hermione since I have dysphoria.”
“Oh! I understand, my dear,” Agnes replied with a gentle nod. “Godric was much the same, bless his soul.”
Emilia blinked. “Godric Gryffindor was transgender?” She asked, disbelieving.
“Oh, yes! He wasn't English either, if you'd believe it,” Agnes added as though she were sharing an especially juicy secret. But frankly, Emilia had guessed as much considering the Sword of Gryffindor was a Chinese dao, not an English longsword or something similar. “Fenghuang, the Chinese called him! Phoenix! But of course the English could be very judgy, so they gave him a name based on his Animagus form. A lion.”
“Huh… How'd he handle being trans? Did they have hormone potions that long ago? I'm pretty sure they didn't have Polyjuice,” she mused, frowning.
“Ah, well his dysphoria was more… Social, as he put it? If you'd like, I can see if his portrait would chat you up?” Agnes offered, flooring Emilia.
“He has a portrait?” She breathed, exhilarated.
Agnes winked. “He spends his days in that Clock Tower Lounge you kids like, but he's got a couple other hot spots. If I find him I'll send him your way,” she assured Emilia.
“Thank you, Agnes!” Emilia said cheerfully.
“Any time, dear,” Agnes replied with a beaming smile as her portrait swung open, allowing Emilia to head into the Gryffindor Common Room.
Being in the Common Room while it was empty was weird, but considering the steaming plate of spaghetti waiting for her? She wasn't complaining. Instead she sat at the coffee table it was placed on and tucked in.
“Wait… What? Hermion— there's two Hermiones?” A flabbergasted Angelina said as she walked in, looking between Emilia - who had long since finished her meal and was now reading - and Hermione - who was heading over to and sitting next to her girlfriend.
“Hi Angie,” Emilia greeted her. “I'm not Hermione. It's Emilia - formerly Harry.”
Angelina blinked as she joined them, looking plenty shocked. “I… See. And is this… long-term?” She asked, curious.
“Um… Yes, for now,” Emilia admitted. “My gender dysphoria was awful, and Hermione's letting me Polyjuice as her. Twelve-hour doses, twice a day. I'll be in her form pretty uh. Consistently. For a while.”
Alicia frowned as she sat down as well. Thankfully, the best seats by the fire were pretty often recognized as being for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Bloody sports fanatics, the entire Tower. “But aren't there potions specifically for trans people?” She asked.
Dammit, of course she'd know. She was one of few Gryffindors willing to take NEWT-level Potions.
“It's… Complicated,” Emilia said with a grimace.
“What, does Hermione have a selfcest kink?” Katie asked, draping herself in Angelina and Alicia's laps. Neither of her girlfriends seemed fussed.
“Um, no,” Emilia said, flushed.
“...I mean, maybe a little bit?” Hermione said softly, her face a true Gryffindor red. “But that's not why, no.”
Emilia raised her eyebrows. “Huh… Well then. At least it's helping your confidence,” she mused, causing Hermione to groan into her hands as she buried her face in them.
“Riiiiight… Well what is it, then?” Angelina asked, tugging Katie’s hair teasingly, causing her girlfriend to scowl and bite at her hand - ineffectually, since Angelina just poked her belly instead. “Hah, nice try. But seriously, why? Because uh. Kind of need my star Seeker, Emilia.” She gave a prompting look that showed she wanted a fair and reasonable answer, and considering their long term friendship, Emilia couldn't deny it was owed.
She sighed and drew her wand. “One moment,” she told them before waving it in a circle followed by a few other somatics. “Prìobhaideachd a thoirt seachad,” she murmured, yet… She still could hear the rest of the Common Room’s occupants. “What? Prìobhaideachd a thoirt seachad!” She repeated more insistently while performing the appropriate somstics, but all she got from her wand were a couple meager fizzling sparks.
“What's wrong? Distracted?” Alicia asked, likely assuming Emilia’s focus or intent were fuzzy.
“No, I shouldn't…” She paused when she remembered an entry from Molly’s diary.
‘Sometimes my magic just doesn't work for specific spells - especially the complicated ones. I wonder if the baby interferes with the flow of magic? It's so early I don't think it's their intent or focus fuddling with mine. Maybe having the baby on my mind all the time makes it hard? Either way, guess I'll be mostly using simple spells for a while.’
“...Can one of you cast a privacy bubble, please?” Emilia asked, flushing with extreme shame. The spell wasn't easy by any means but she'd even done it wandlessly before. And now she couldn't use it at all despite the usefulness. And it… Upset her. A lot.
“Oh, sure,” Angelina said, drawing her wand. She didn't even need the incantation. Nor did she need the waving motions or the sharp lines when it came to the somatics. She just twirled it in a circle and the five girls were wrapped in a translucent bubble of privacy - and not a single sound came from outside. They could only hear each other.
Emilia wound up sniffling as a bubble of upset washed over her and she sobbed, rubbing tears away from her face. “This is so… stupid!” She sobbed. “Can't even… Cast a stupid p-privacy bubble!”
Hermione wrapped an arm around Emilia for a hug, shushing her gently. “Hey, hey, hey. It's okay, love. It's okay. It's just one spell,” she tried to reassure her.
“But it's n-not!” Emilia sobbed. “There’s going to be more. The diary s-said that I’ll only b-be able to do s-simple m-magic! And I don't kn-now when it stops!” She cried, flinging her arms around Hermione's shoulders and sobbing into her chest. Why was Hermione trying to reassure her? This was awful! She was supposed to be a wix! But she wouldn't be able to cast anything other than the most basic of spells! That's bad! Especially since she was supposed to be a student and learning!
“I'm sorry, love,” Hermione murmured, gently rubbing Emilia’s back and stroking her hair. “Just… I'm sorry, I don't know how I can help. But… I'm here for you. I love you, okay?”
Emilia continued to sniffle and tremble, but now… Now she was feeling a bit better. The backrubs helped.
“Um… Is everything okay?” Katie asked tentatively. When Emilia turned her head, she saw all three Gryffindor Chasers were giving her worried looks.
“I…” Emilia took a shaky, almost hysterical breath. “I haven't… Been… T-taking daily doses,” she whispered, her speech interrupted by sniffles and shuddering half-sobs. “I t-took one back on C-Christmas.”
“Oh… Ohhhhhh… Shite,” Alicia murmured. “So wait… Um… Con-congratulations?” She said a bit uncertainly. “That— you did, um— well—” She floundered, obviously unsure what to say.
Emilia curled her legs up as she pretty much sat in Hermione's lap, bringing an arm down to cover her own belly. “I'm keeping the baby,” she whispered hoarsely. “I just…” She sniffled. “D-difficulty casting magic is… A s-symptom.”
“Oh!” Katie exclaimed softly. “And… Wait… But how…?”
“I Polyjuiced as Emilia,” Hermione said softly. “It was… An experiment, but we made a mistake with our birth control potions. By chance, Emilia got pregnant, and… Well, it's her body, even if it looks like mine. Her decision.”
“Wow…” Angelina murmured, sighing as she ruffled her curls a bit. “Well… Congratulations, Emilia. Really. And… Hey, I think I can get Ginny to take over as Seeker. It's okay, really. Um… For your magic… Well, we can help with your paper stuff, and I mean… Well, by the time OWLs roll around you'll be showing. So… They'll cut you some slack, I bet. Okay?” She offered, gently reaching out and squeezing Emilia’s shoulder.
“...Okay,” Emilia squeaked softly. “Sorry for… Well…”
“You're probably having mood swings, it's fine,” Katie reassured her. “I've a little brother, barely nine. I still remember how emotional Mum was with him. It happens. Don't apologize.”
Emilia hummed, snuggling against Hermione some more.
“I think she'll be okay. It's just been a long day,” Hermione told the other girls. “Between Malfoy and Umbridge, she needs her sleep.”
“Ugh, classes are tomorrow,” Emilia groaned.
“They sure are, love. Now let's get you to bed so you can be ready for them.”