Chapter Text
The office was bursting with morning chaos. Hazel and James stepped out of the elevator straight into it, memos whizzing past their heads, pausing only to stop at their over-stuffed pigeon holes for their post, casually shouting ‘morning!’ as they passed others. Ellie Cattermole walked past wearing thick dragon-hide gloves as she carried a seemingly ordinary looking wellington boot, except for the fact that it was growling loudly. ‘Tell him it’s not his choice,’ she was saying grumpily to a trainee. ‘He can’t get it back because it’s illegal, I don’t care if he wasn’t the one who charmed it.’
At the tea point, a cacophony of clinking mugs and whistling kettles and Aurors chatting about their cases or the twist on the wireless soap opera ‘The Bowmans” last night. As they strode past, Auror Wright did not break his conversation, but glanced at Hazel, leaned over the island, and held out a manilla file, which she took smoothly.
‘Potter!’ said Susan sharply. ‘Potter, do you have your monthly stats for me yet?’
‘Ah, Susan, you’re hilarious,’ James called back.
‘I mean it!’
‘I forgot - memory problems.’
‘Potter!’
‘I’ll get them to you close of play, promise.’ They continued on, Hazel reading her file as she went, James rifling through the post he had picked up from his pigeon hole.
‘Ugh, I have so much admin today… And my morgue report is inconclusive, what a pain in the arse…’
‘I’ve got a meeting with the gaffer,’ said Hazel, still staring at her file. ‘And then I’m with my trainee all day - lunch?’
‘See you then,’ said James cheerfully, and he kissed her on the cheek as they parted ways at the end of the corridor.
She briefly popped her head into her cubicle, where her trainee, Martha MacIlindon, was unpacking her bag for the day, and told her where she’d be, before heading straight to Auror Hodges’ office.
The meeting started as they usually did; Theia’s quick smile and chit chat about how things were going, a check in on the new trainee (who, Hazel was sorry to say, seemed increasingly unlikely to make it to qualification), and the offer of a cup of tea.
‘Please,’ she said, as she sat down in one of the sleek pin-leg chairs by the coffee table.
‘The usual? Milk and one sugar?’ At Hazel’s nod, Theia flicked her wand, and a kettle, two mugs, tea bags and sugar appeared in mid-air. ‘Ooh, also,’ said Theia, with the air of someone about to impart exciting, secret news, ‘I have a nice job for you for after this meeting. See that envelope there?’ She nodded towards an envelope on the coffee table as she poured out the tea. ‘James passed his latest exam, you can do the honours of giving him the news, if you’d like.’
‘Oh, brilliant!’ Hazel picked up the envelope; on the front, in neat print, were the words ‘AUROR POTTER, CONCEALMENT AND DISGUISE. ‘Oh, he was so nervous for this one, he’ll be thrilled.’
‘I told him,’ said Theia with brisk pragmatism. ‘He passed it before, he would do so again - he did better this time around, actually.’
‘Yeah, I bet…’ said Hazel vaguely, who had watched James practice human transfiguration in the mirror throughout the evenings for weeks, his freckles vanishing without a trace.
‘Anyway…’
Theia handed her the cup of tea, and Hazel tried not to gag. It looked normal, and she had watched as Theia put in a teaspoon of sugar as was her usual request, but the milk must have gone off. She kept her lips closed as she pretended to sip it, though nothing seemed wrong with Theia’s.
‘Now - security detailing for the Quidditch National Cup,’ said Theia briskly. ‘I’ve been having a think, and I think that it is unlikely that we’ll see trouble but you did raise a good point about the potential for protests over the delegation from the International Confederation of Wizards, so I’ve been having a think and I’d like you to lead Team A-’
‘Right - brilliant,’ said Hazel eagerly, leaning forward as Theia brought out a large map and unfolded it on the table. Moving arrows in a variety of colours wiggled across it.
‘This is the site, the stadium here, obviously, but then the campgrounds will need monitoring too. The Pennines do offer some protection and secrecy, but I am a bit concerned about this area here, so - when you’ve chosen your team - I’d like you to take charge of this zone and-’
She couldn’t stop yawning, and the more she tried, the more she felt the urge. She tried hiding it behind her hand as she scratched her nose, tried keeping her mouth shut until her eyes watered, tried timing them for when Theia did not seem to be looking, but they just kept coming as a great heaviness overwhelmed her. At one point, she found herself looking longingly at the squashy sofa, there since Auror Potter had been Head, maybe even before him, and thinking about how the years would have softened the leather, and how comfortable it would be to simply lie down and…
‘Ughr - you’re making me yawn now, stop it!’ said Theia suddenly.
Hazel felt her face grow warm, but smiled as Theia yawned widely and gave her shoulders a little shake. ‘Sorry.’
‘Late night?’ Theia asked, though she did not seem irritated.
‘No, actually, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,’ said Hazel. ‘I’ve been knackered for a few days. Maybe I’m coming down with something, I felt a bit sick coming out the floo.’
‘Maybe you’re pregnant,’ said Theia casually.
Hazel laughed. ‘Yeah, maybe,’ she said, with plenty of dry humour, but inside it felt as though heavy iron cogs were screeching and clunking as things fell into place.
‘-Now the VIP section here - I hope you don’t mind, I know your in-laws will be there and everything, but I’ve given that bit to LaPointe, because he knows pretty much everyone in there and he’ll be better placed to spot any intruders-’
‘Mmhmm, yeah, makes sense,’ Hazel said, though her internal thoughts were now far away, and preoccupied with counting. The twelfth, or something like that, plus twenty eight days would bring her up to - no, wait, not twenty eight because it had lasted, what, four or five days? Let’s say a week. Was it definitely the twelfth - yes, because James had made that shit joke about hoping it wouldn’t interrupt their first anniversary on the eighteenth and she’d nearly thumped him… But there had to have been another time since then, there had to have been, they were nearly into February now…
‘-So I’ll leave you to round up who you want,’ finished Theia.
‘Right,’ said Hazel. ‘How many?’
Theia gave her a shrewd sort of stare. ‘Six, as discussed,’ she said eventually, and before Hazel could apologise, she added, ‘do try to keep in mind that Quidditch fans aren’t particularly useful at these kind of events.’
Half an hour later, she sat at her desk, drumming her quill against the wood, staring blankly at the wall. ‘Martha,’ she said suddenly, ‘could you… could you go and book me a private meeting room?’
‘Sure, when for?’
‘For now.’
‘Oh, erm… who with?’
Hazel opened her mouth, and thought for a few moments. ‘I… I’m giving out some exam results, so just block a room out for an hour and I’ll call people to me.’
‘Ooh!’ she said excitedly. ‘Did my stealth exam results come back?’
‘How on earth should I know?’ said Hazel distractedly. ‘Could you just do that, please, while I make some tea, do you want any?’
Martha said something, and Hazel replied ‘OK’, and left without looking at her.
Heading straight to the tea point, she made herself the perfect cuppa, exactly as she liked it, the perfect shade of caramel brown, the precise amount of sugar, the bag left in for the ideal amount of time, right down to the second. James always told her that her tea was awful, but she insisted that what he called strong was in fact just bitter.
She knew it was right. She knew the milk was in date and not spoiled.
It was revolting.
She threw it in the sink, and strode swiftly back to her cubicle, the heels of her shoes thudding rapidly against the carpeted corridor, though not as quickly as the tattoo her heart was pounding against her ribcage.
‘Did you book me a room?’ she asked Martha, and maybe she sounded angry, because Martha jumped and looked terrified.
‘Yes - Room 7-’
‘Right, thank you, appreciate it,’ said Hazel, hoping that was enough to make up for her rudeness. Then she turned on her heel, and hurried away again.
She could hear James’s laughter well before she reached his cubicle, and Crispin’s head and shoulders over the top. He was gesturing vigorously with his arm, a beaming grin on his face. As she turned and stood on the doorway, she could see James laughing as he lay on the floor, Crispin making odd, exaggerated motions above him.
‘Haze - Haze - if you were a body - if you were a body with a great big hole in here, how would you have to be lying for Crispin to get at you with a pickaxe? It’s relevant to a case, I promise.’
‘See, I think the ceiling was too low where he said it happened,’ said Crispin. ‘You need to get a proper momentum, don’t you? But there was no-’
‘Maybe he swung it sideways - like - if I lie on the desk-’
‘Can I talk to you?’ she blurted out, and James froze, halfway through trying to mount the desk, and raised his eyebrows at Crispin. ‘Am I in trouble?’ he asked lightly.
‘No, I just - I’ve booked a meeting room, can we-?’
‘No office sex,’ Crispin advised. ‘Not allowed.’
‘Thanks for the tip, I’ll be sure to pass it on to Dee,’ said James, and Crispin stuck two fingers up at him as they left.
‘What’s going on?’ James asked, but Hazel stayed silent until she reached the meeting room, showed him in, and pulled down the blinds.
‘People really will think we’re shagging in here,’ he said.
‘Fine,’ she muttered, and she half opened them, then cleared her throat as she turned to face him. ‘I…’ Now that she was here, she was not sure how to say it. A thought popped into her head, and she reached into her pocket to pull out the envelope. ‘Your exam results came back,’ she said, handing them to him.
His face fell as he took it, and he slumped into a seat at the table as he stared at it. ‘I failed,’ he said dully.
‘What? No - you passed!’ said Hazel. ‘Better than last time-’
‘I did?’ he said, looking astounded, and ripping it open. ‘Really? But - 98%!’ He looked elated. ‘Bloody hell - don’t do that to me, Haze, I thought something terrible had happened, look at this - 98%!’
‘It’s… it’s brilliant.’
‘Full marks on skin amendments, yes! Get in!’ He looked up at her, grinning broadly, but then frowned. 'What? What's wrong?'
She swallowed, and then sat in the sea beside him. 'Do you remember…' she began uneasily, 'when my last period was?'
He stared at her for a few moments. 'Well that's not fair,' he said quietly. 'Healer Gower says I don't have to do these kinds of tests anymore…'
'Oh my God, you know what it is I'm hinting at,' she snapped.
'Yes, I know,' he said, and he seemed to be trying to stay calm. 'I don't… I don't know, I don't remember.' His gaze drifted off to the left, and they were both in silence for a while. 'Just before our anniversary,' he said at last. 'That's the most recent I can think of.'
'That's what I thought of too,' she said quietly. 'That's… well that's a bit…'
'Have you done a test?' he asked.
'No, I only just thought of it-'
'Why, what-?'
'I had some tea and it was disgusting.'
'Your tea is always disgusting, Haze, you make it too weak and sweet.'
'Now is really not the time.'
'Right, sorry.'
'And I felt like I was going to throw up when we were in the floo this morning and I thought maybe it was just motion sickness but the more I think about it the more I think, no, it wasn't like motion sickness at all-'
'All right, OK,' he said steadily. 'Well, let's not… lose our heads or anything, OK? I'll go and get you a test at lunch-'
'Are you joking? Can you imagine if the press spots you buying-'
'Hello?' he said, waving his exam results. 'Going to put this 98% to good use.'
She nodded rapidly. 'All right, yeah… Yeah, if you pick it up… Let’s do it when we get home…’ She looked at him carefully; his lips were pressed tight together, but she could see elation in his eyes, and he put down the exam results and reached for her hands.
‘Do you really think you are?’ he said quietly, almost breathing the words.
‘I think I might be.’
‘I just… how, we’re usually good at-’
‘Remember when we stayed at your parents for Christmas,’ she said quickly, looking down at their entwined fingers. ‘And we almost fell asleep afterwards and then you remembered about the potion in my bag and then we were joking around about forgetting things…’
‘Yeah…’ he said slowly. ‘Oh. We didn’t actually take any. We just talked about it and patted ourselves on the back for remembering but didn’t...’
‘No.’
‘Too much mulled wine.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Wow,’ he said, running his thumbs over her hands. Their eyes met, and they both saw joy there, a giddy anticipation. James seemed unable to keep himself from smiling, and he released her hands to rub his jaw, half chuckling. ‘I’m really glad you gave me those results so I’ve got a reason if anyone asks me why I’m grinning like a moron.’
‘I haven’t done the test yet,’ she warned him. ‘I could genuinely just be a bit ill or something.’
‘Yeah, but…’
He looked at her meaningfully, and she understood. Should the test be negative, their gut reactions, their instant thrill, their longing meant that their previous plans to wait a little longer, another year or two, were thrown out like the repulsive tea.
***
Their joy lasted through the day, and exploded like a glorious firework when they got home, the gleaming white potion bottle falling from the coffee table as they celebrated enthusiastically on the sofa.
It was not until many hours later, in the silent hours of the night, that anything changed.
‘Hazel,’ he whispered. ‘Haze.’
Her eyes flickered open, and she squinted in the dim moonlight that had slipped through the curtains to see him leaning above her, his face inches from her own. ‘James?’ she murmured.
‘What if… what if I’m not actually better?’ he whispered frantically. ‘Do you think I should - I should ask Healer Gower for more tests-’
‘Your short term memory’s back at full capacity,’ she said sleepily, rubbing at her eyes. ‘That’s why you came back to-’
‘Yes but I’m still missing a lot, aren’t I, I’m still not right-’
‘James-’
‘-And they said all that might never return, that’s why I had to re-do all those exams-’
‘You didn’t have to do those exams, we told you that you didn’t-’
‘I did!’ He sounded quite frantic. ‘Haze - what if I can’t - what if I forget to, to feed it or something, or where I put it, or if it grows up and hates me because I never remember important things-’
She gently pushed on his chest to ease him off, and sat up herself, reaching for the bedside lamp. The bedroom was bathed in golden light, the earthy tones and soft, thick blankets warm against the cold winter night. She looked at him; he did not seem to have got any sleep, his face pale and dark circles around his eyes, his hair ruffled where he had been running his hand through it. There was a slight shine of white from the jagged little scar on his forehead, and the curved one that came down his temple from his hairline.
‘No one wants to have to look after their parent,’ he said quietly. ‘You can’t put that on a child.’
‘It’s been a long time since you needed looking after,’ she said.
‘Not really. A year. We said - we said that we were going to wait until-’
‘We did,’ she said calmly. ‘But I’m pregnant now. So there's no more waiting.' She leaned forward and kissed him, her hand cupping the side of his jaw. 'I have complete faith in you,' she said as they broke apart. 'This is a good thing.'
'It is,' he agreed. 'I'm just… How can I know, really, that I'm going to be able to-'
She kissed him once more. 'I know,' she told him. 'So if you can't trust yourself, you'll just have to trust me.'