philophobia-the fear of falling in love
or becoming emotionally connected
to someone...
~~~
This is a story you've heard before, passed down through generations, about a young girl and a young boy who utterly despise each other.
Then, somehow, t...
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xl||stupid
Maria's face lights up at the sound of her mother's voice and she quickly stands up, pushing past the boys and running down the hall, almost slipping on the polished wooden floor, and down the stairs. She instantly spots her mother hanging up her coat and lets out a small squeal, running down the remaining steps and Euphemia lets out a laugh when she wraps her arms around her daughter finally.
"Oh—you look older!" Euphemia breathes, pulling away and flattening her daughters hair. "I can't believe it, my little girl's seventeen."
"Not so little anymore." Sirius grins walking down the stairs with James, Peter and Remus following behind.
"Boys—you're okay?" They nod and Euphemia brings the two into a motherly embrace before hugging the others. Maria smiles at her father who grins and she chuckles, side hugging him as they all walk into the living room.
"So, how was your birthday?" Fleamont asks her and Maria hesitates for a second as Euphemia pours tea for everyone. "What did you and the boys do?"
"Uh—good, yeah." Maria swallows, thanking her mother for the tea. "It was great—we just stayed in the house."
A small part of Maria feels guilt built up, not telling her parents about her and Regulus' relationship. She's honestly surprised they haven't figured it out, or that the teachers at school hadn't mentioned it in their yearly reports, or even James — who Maria trusts with everything — that can sometimes accidentally share things, especially with his mother on his case.
"Guess all of our wine's gone then." Euphemia chuckles and the boys snigger with each other, obviously having drank a lot whilst Maria was away. Another small part of Maria wants to tell her mother, she's always shared everything with the woman who raised her. She keeps finding herself lost without her mother's opinion and finds herself giving her mother a 'I need to talk to you' look. Euphemia instantly catches on and excuses them from the room, Maria pulling her mother into the smaller lounge and sitting on the sofa with a conflicted look on her face as Euphemia sits next to her with a soft expression on her face.
"Have—have you ever wanted to tell someone something—something really important." Maria says quietly, pulling her legs up into the sofa and resting her arms on her knees. "But. . .you feel like when you do, everything might change?"
"When I had to tell your grandparents that I was marrying your father." Euphemia jokes and Maria gives her a look. "Sorry, what is it?"
"I can't tell you—I don't know how to." Maria says hoarsely, playing with her ring. "It's like—you and especially dad will just think lower of me—"
"Oh god." Euphemia says quietly. "You're not pregnant, are you?"
"What—no." Maria shakes her head. "We used a spell—" Maria cuts herself off with wide eyes as Euphemia raises her eyebrows at her.
