Chapter 15: ── 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

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DECEMBER 18, 1974

Fear.

It's an emotion engraved deep within my bones. I fear a lot, perhaps too much for someone as young as I. I fear for the future. I fear for my siblings, my friends, the war looming over our heads. I fear the secrets my family name hides behind it's pristine walls, but most of all, I fear that I have allowed this feeling to take over. How unfortunate it is that this life has led me to fear fear itself.

Everything is a mess. Amara is gone with no traces to follow or lead to where she could possibly be. Samuel has allowed himself to be a puppet. He has joined our parents' side, and I am furious. How can you allow yourself to fight for the complete opposite of your beliefs, to turn your back on your morals and willingly hurt the innocent just to save your own skin? Olivia claims she understood. She said she understood the feeling of throwing everything away, including your own identity, for that small confirmation of survival. I don't understand. I refuse to. I'd rather crash and burn than be another puppet controlled by strings meant to squeeze out everything that I am only to be replaced by who I am meant to be.

If I am going to die, I will die by my own terms. I will die with my beliefs and my morals knowing that I am fighting for the side I truly believe in.

Regulus made the mistake of calling Olivia "broken" in front of me. Thinking about it now, I knew he hadn't meant it in an offending way. He was giving an observation, and I can't truly blame him. As the years passed, I knew my sister was slowly but surely losing parts of herself. She's hiding behind a facade of sarcasm and wit. I know that to those who don't know her, an air of mystery hangs around her shoulders. I know she loses a little bit of herself whenever we're forced to return to the manor. I've noticed it, how a part of her soul seems to be left imprisoned behind the manor's marble walls. And yet, I refuse to accept it. Because if Olivia is broken then that can only mean that I failed. I failed protecting her like I promised I would and I don't think I'm ready to accept that.

But somehow, I can't help but think. The same question repeating again and again in my head as soon as the words tumbled out of Regulus' mouth.

If Olivia is broken then what does that make me?

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OLIVIA IS HAVING THE WORST DAY, She quickly decided as she held onto the toilet seat, the contents of her stomach emptying.

James sighs from beside her, not knowing what else to do other than rub her back and hold her hair. She's been on the same bathroom floor for more than twenty minutes now, every time she tries to pull herself up and go out, she'd catch a whip of something that will have her running back to the toilet.

"Are you okay?" James asked as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. They're late for class, but neither was thinking of that right now.

Any other time, Olivia would have given a snarky response. Of course she's not okay! But her vision was hazy and she honestly had no energy to be sarcastic.

"I'm tired," she whimpered, leaning on the bathroom wall.

"Do you want me to carry you back to your bed?" James asked, tying her hair to a messy ponytail to try and keep it from falling to her face.

Olivia wanted to say that she was perfectly capable of bringing herself to her bed, thank you very much, but her body felt heavy and the mere thought of lifting herself off the cold tiled floor was nauseating to think about so she simply lifted her arms to reach for him.

James couldn't help but smile at how childish and vulnerable she looked at that moment as he effortlessly lifted her. With her head resting on his chest, James headed towards her bedroom, passing by their friends in the process.

Sirius winced at her pale complexion and the bags under her eyes, knowing that today was definitely not a good day for her. "Hey, Liv."

As Olivia looked at him, she couldn't help but see the similarities between him and his younger brother whom she knows to be Maxwell's trusted friend. Her mind wandered back to the words written in the journal. To Regulus' observation and Maxwell's denial.

Not lifting her head, she gave them a tired smile as she nodded the tiniest bit to answer his question.

"You look pale," Remus observed.

"Do you want me to run to the hospital wing and ask for a potion?" Peter suggested, also worried for their new friend.

It was James who answered. "That would be great, Pete. Thank you so much."

"I'll go with you," Remus volunteered as he grabbed their notebook where James had already written her symptoms.

"I'll get you guys food," Sirius said as the three of them stood up, knowing they were late for their class but also knowing that their friends needed them more.

James smiled gratefully at his friends, thankful now more than ever to have them in his life. "Thank you guys so much."

"You know we have your back, Prongs." Remus smiled.

"And Liv's too!" Peter added, making Olivia give out a weak smile.

At times like these, Olivia couldn't help but be happy over the fact that they had wiggled themselves into her life and eventually, her heart. Without them, she doesn't know what she's going to do. Having friends was truly better than isolation.

James continued on to her room, gently placing her on the bed. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

James knows his boundaries. He knows Olivia values her own company and he knows she values her independence which only made it much sweeter for him when she scooted a little to give space for him, nodding as she did so.

"It hurts," she mumbled as she buried herself on his side with James accepting her with open arms.

The King of Gryffindor couldn't help but frown, not knowing how to help her. "What does, baby?"

"Everything," Olivia whimpered, clutching her abdomen. The pain felt a lot like period cramps but perhaps a thousand times more painful. Her head was aching as if something was drumming into her skull and her vision so hazy that she could barely see.

"I don't know what to do, Mon amour," James admitted helplessly, trying to soothe her clenched muscles by drawing soft circles on her shoulder.

Olivia tried to focus on how he pronounced the french endearment. The word rolling off his tongue so naturally that it's clear he speaks the language fluently. James Potter loved his nicknames, terms of endearments he often used when talking to his loved ones. Olivia realized early on that he doesn't realize he uses them. Whether it be something as simple as darling or sweetheart, something always manages to slip past his tongue. And yet there was something so effortlessly beautiful at Mon amour that sent a chill down her spine.

"Do you speak french?" She asked softly, loving the heat he emitted.

She herself spoke italian, mainly because it was an unwritten rule to show superiority that pureblood families be fluent in different languages.

James seemed to have realized his words as a blush crept into his cheeks. He had just called her 'my love' and hadn't even realized it. However, the fact that she doesn't seem to mind it eased his worry a little bit. "I do. My mum is a countess and came from a very wealthy and respected family so my grandparents taught her a variety of languages such as french, italian, madarin and spanish, but she was only ever able to learn french so she passed that on to me."

The soft tone of his voice and the vibrations of his chest gave comfort to Olivia's aching body. There was also the added fact that she was learning new information about James. She was now just realizing that she barely knows anything about the father of her child.

She knew he came from money and that he was as pureblood as purebloods go, but she hadn't known that his mother had been a countess even before marriage. She knew of course that his father too is the Earl of Stinchcombe considering the amount of times she had heard her own parents talk about how the Potters were blood traitors seeing as they had actively fought against prejudice on the muggleborns, which in her parents eyes, made them worse than mudbloods.

"Tell me about your family," she said in an attempt to get him to talk more.

James nodded, thankful to have something to do seeing as he's unable to take her pain away. "My mum was an only child so all their attention was really focussed on her. She was sorted to Gryffindor where she met my dad. Her mum died of dragon pox while she was in Hogwarts which officially made her Countess of London. My dad was named Fleamont because it's my grandma's maiden name and she didn't want it to die out. Mum said he got into a lot of trouble for hexing people who made fun of his name."

"Sounds like something you'd do," she muttered.

He grinned, adjusting his arm so he could lean his head on hers. "They started dating around fifth or sixth year, I think. Eventually, dad proposed right after their seventh year exams and got married a day after they left hogwarts. But dad said that there was this guy named Cornelius Fudge who used to follow them around to try and break them up because he was courting mum. Dad eventually turned him into a flobberworm."

Olivia can now see just exactly where James got his mischievous streak from. His father was sounding a lot like him.

"They had trouble conceiving, though."

"A problem you obviously didn't inherit," she commented.

James smirked. "Right. Considering I got you pregnant at the first rodeo."

"Ugh," she blanched out. "Don't say it like that."

This only made him chuckle, making his chest vibrate. "Anyway, they didn't have me till they were already around fifty so they're older than your average parents. They're still disgustingly in love, though, so there's that."

She hummed, feeling her eyes start to droop. She wanted him to talk more. She needed something else to focus on other than the pain in her abdomen or the aching in her head.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" She asked suddenly after a few moments of silence, realizing that this would be the first time they actually discussed anything remotely about the future.

"I don't care," he said without losing a bit. "It could be a boy, a girl, gay, lesbian, bisexual, I don't care. As long as he or she is healthy and happy, I couldn't care less about the details."

She smiled softly, knowing he'd already be a great father.

"Do you have any ideas for names?" He asked.

"Maxwell," says Olivia, her voice shaking just the tiniest bit at the name of her late brother. "Maxwell for a boy."

James nodded, knowing how important it is for Olivia. She still, hasn't talked about her past, or about her family, or her dead twin brother, but James was just thankful that she was comfortable with him enough that she was willing to say his name out loud as both of them knows the vulnerability that came with it.

"Maxwell Fleamont Kinsley-Potter," he mumbled softly, respecting his grandmother's wish of keeping the name alive.

"Maxwell Fleamont Potter," Olivia corrected, not wanting her baby to have any relation to the family name she's ashamed to carry.

James didn't ask any questions, just nodding along. "How about if it's a girl?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought much about it," she admitted.

"We'll think about it tomorrow," he said, seeing her eyes closing. "For now, rest."

She hummed softly, her fist clutching his shirt tighter as she allowed her eyes to fall shut. "Don't go."

James smiled before planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "I won't."

"Promise?"

"Go to sleep, Mon amour," he told her softly as he pulled her closer to him. "And I'll be here when you wake up."

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲:

Also because it's my manz

birthday and I wanted to

upload something for

him 🥺🥺

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY

MANZ JAMES FLEAMONT

POTTER