Early June 1998
7pm
The Leaky Cauldron


"Why don't we get you nice drink, eh?"

Niobe Thursby was a 23-year-old reporter for the Daily Prophet, ambitious, idealistic and driven. She had grit, dammit, and she was going to do whatever it took to write the truth. Her career at the country's most respected newspaper had begun with the war and the attack on the Brockdale Bridge. And two years later, here she was reporting on the end of the conflict. Everything was moving so fast, there was barely enough to to breath. Or look up from a quill and notice that one of the reporters in Lifestyle was having a moment.

Ay, bollocks, Niobe'd said to herself. It was getting late in the evening and that poor girl - Genevieve, it was - she looked a mess. I'm no good at this, she'd thought, but she couldn't just let her go on like that.

Not exactly sure what was fretting the other reporter, Niobe had approached her with a little pat on the back, and coaxed her out to the pub.

"That's it, let's fuckoff out of here, alright? Hey, you're fine. Come on," Niobe tried.

The letter, mercifully, hadn’t been a Howler. Less public, that way. Less humiliating. But then, what was more humiliation to add to the relentless horror that had become the past few weeks?

This letter wasn’t humiliating, it was terrifying. The accusations that she should have known that Leo was a monster. But he wasn’t a monster. He was the wizard she’d fallen in love with 11 years ago. She’d left school and followed him to London, she’d hung off every word he said, every promise he made her. She still believed he was innocent. But this author, this wizard who’d written to her didn’t agree that Leo was a loving husband and heroic auror.

Ward your flat, Mrs Gamp. I would hate for you to be burned to death in your bed. I will…

Genny stopped reading, looking up from the parchment, lips parted in shock and dark eyes brimming with tears. She could feel her steely reserve, her stoney walls of protection slowly crackling. Strength had been what she’d needed for the past weeks and she’d had exactly that. But this was the letter to break the witch’s back and she sat silently at her desk in the middle of the bullpen, tears starting to stream down her face.

"Why don't we get you nice drink, eh?"

---

Somehow Genny and Niobe made it out of the Daily Prophet Headquarters and ended up sat awkwardly in a booth at the Leaky Cauldon. Niobe no doubt wondering why she’d bothered, and Genny pulling the sleeve of her cardigan down over her hands and folding her arms nervously. Public spaces didn’t feel so good and safe right now.

“This is a bad idea.” As if she expected the author of the letter in her pocket to jump out and attack her, Gen’s red puffy eyes scanned their surroundings in the pub.

Turned out getting Genevieve to follow her had been the easy part, reaching out to a work acquaintance having a rough go of it. But now that Niobe had her, she didn't know what to do with her! Genevieve was fidgeting and didn't look an itch more comfortable here than there!

"You hang on right here," she patted the table between them, and slid out of the booth. "I'll be right back."

Booze. Wine, even. This was a wine kind of night, wasn't it?

A few minutes later, Niobe returned with two mismatched stemmed glasses.

"Didn't know your preference, so we've got a pinot and a zin."

Niobe put on a good smile and put both glasses between them, each equidistant from each witch. And waited. After a beat, Gen hadn't picked one so Niobe prompted.

"You pick. I'm good with either."

Another beat. "Sorry to say, but you look a fright. You deserve a glass I think."

Niobe could have told Gen that fairies were going to sprinkle unicorn dust on her and make everything better. Instead, she told her to pick a wine because that would make it better. Now the 27-year-old junior lifestyle reporter didn’t know how to respond. She had no idea what to say or how to explain that she wasn’t going to drink either of these glasses and that she just wanted to crawl under a rock and hide for a lifetime (or at least until the truth came out about Leo).

“ You deserve a glass I think." 

There must have been a short moment’s pause before tears began to fill Gen’s eyes and they fell quickly, this time flooding faster than back at the office. She pulled her legs up onto the large worn sofa they were sat on, trainers brushing against the old leather as she hugged her thighs. Her head buried itself on her knees.

“I’m having a baby, Niobe.” The tearful witch muttered, into her knees. “I’m having his baby and he’s going to Azkaban.” There was terror in Gen’s red eyes as she looked up at her colleague. Niobe wasn’t even a friend. They barely spoke at work. But she was the only person to actually show she cared. Everyone else avoided the witch as if she had some contagious deathly disease. Maybe she did.

“I don’t…” The sobs started, her shoulders shaking with the movement. “I don’t know what to do.”

Oh, yeah, this had been awhile coming, hadn't it. Whatever dyke Genevieve had been keeping up finally cracked and here came the water works. Niobe's face fell and oh, shit the wine.  Now she felt like a knob. Even though these two witches weren't close, every witch their age had dried another's tears in a pub.

"Oh, no, no," Niobe cooed. With only a second's hesitation, she got up and went around to Genevieve's side of the table.  "It's going to be fine, Gen. Here you go."

The younger of the two slid off the light scarf she'd been wearing and handed it to Gen for her mascara. With Niobe on the outer edge of the booth, at least the whole bar didn't have a front row seat to the dam breaking. Even while she gave Genevieve a chance to catch her breath, Niobe was trying to organize all the pieces. Gen's business was spread out everywhere. Even in the chaotic, anonymous mire of the Daily Prophet, everyone knew Gen's name. Gamp. How her Auror husband was a Death Eater, how she'd been questioned too. Least of it all, Cuffe had taken note and was being an arsehole.

And top it off, she was pregnant apparently.

"You don't have to do anything, not right now," Niobe said, shifting in the bench so her back was out and she could face Gen fully.

Not before this moment had Gen verbally stated that she was pregnant. She’d meant to tell Leo and share the joy but that job had turned to something terrible when he’d been arrested. The destroyed joy now sat in the pit of her stomach rotting away. They’d talked of having children for months now but decided it wasn’t the time with the war. Did they want to bring a child up in this world? Well, what now? Did she want to bring a child into this disaster?

“But I do.” Gen insisted, pulling her legs in close. She was grateful Niobe had moved to where she was, although why not have spectators to this latest breakdown? The public knew everything already. She’d never imagined her own name and face would appear on th front page of the paper she worked for. Cuffe had hauled her in about it and Gen was shocked she’d not broken down into tears there and then.

The scarf was dabbed under her red eyes, but her mascara had already smudged messily and some was running down her cheek.
“I’m bringing a kid into this, Niobe.” She put her head back against the wall, watching her colleague carefully. “I’m getting death threats from people I’ve never met, and Cuffe’s going to sack me any day.”

"Oh, that old gobshite wouldn't fire you," Niobe quickly scoffed. "Don't worry about Cuffe."

She believed what she was saying. Their editor was all bluster and bombast, always flying off the handle but it seemed as natural a reaction as tipping his hat. Niobe'd had her share of it, and it wasn't any fun. Some people just didn't have the stomach for it.

Niobe patted Gen's knee. "When did you find out? Does Leo know?" If she was showing, it had to be just barely. This was news that would travel the office fast.

"Did you ... were you two planning to..." She realized she shouldn't have asked that only after she'd done. What was the polite way to ask if a baby was an accident?

Not worrying about Cuffe was far easier said than done. Now more than ever Gen needed her job. They’d been comfortable with Leo’s salary and hers only added extra comfort. Now hers was all there was unless some miracle happened and Leo was released with an apology. ‘We’re sorry we accused you of being a monster. Here, had 5000 galleons for the stress we’ve caused.’

“I knew in April but it wasn’t the right time.” How could she have told her auror husband that he was going to be a father just before he went to battle the Dark Lord? “I’m not going to tell him now, he’s looking at life for something he didn’t do. This would destroy him.” The witch continued to hug her knees and she closed her eyes, trying to stem the rest of the tears that wanted to keep falling.

Niobe kept her eyes on poor Gen as she reached over and pulled the glass of red to herself and took a deep sip.

"Don't mind if I do?" she asked off-handed.

Gen's situation was nearly unimaginable to Niobe, start to finish really. Niobe'd never been the kind to get attached and was a witch who found little occasion to keep secrets or be ashamed. She tried to look sympathy. Well, of course she felt sympathy for her. It was terrible! But, lies were much more difficult than the truth.

"But what if he finds out? That he's got a kid and you didn't tell him? That won't be worse?" 

Niobe didn't understand. Well, of course, it was understandable, but you couldn't hide from the truth.