❝ NOTE TO SELF: 𝘕𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙 HAVE A
BABY WITH GEORGE WEASLEY. ❞
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
༊*·˚ 🍼 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭
in which addie and george are
paired together for a school project
and she is forced to co-parent with
the boy s...
the baby project — act one " almost like a pregnancy " ﹙ 𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗦. ﹚
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"IS THERE A KIND OF SPELL TO CHANGE THE PITCH OF SOMEONE'S VOICE?"
Because Clayton Schafer would like to know.
"Speech therapy might work," Jazz muttered under her breath, her chin loosely resting on her hands, her elbows sliding further and further down the desk at the back of the Potions classroom.
Even Addie can agree ─ double Potions, in the middle of the day is not something to enjoy. No matter how much you love school. Two hours of Professor Severus Snape's monotonal voice could probably kill a frail old lady if someone were to try.
Addie, Laurie, Clayton and Jazz were all very grateful to have managed to grab back-row seats at the very start of the year. But then again, they deserved it. Snape always pre-sets a seating plan, besides for his seventh years. All four of them had planned this when they found out Hufflepuff and Slytherin were going to be sharing most of their lessons this year. They became even more determined to secure the back row when they saw four lots of double Potions on their timetable. They had all arrived before anyone else, on the first lesson back, and, quite embarrassingly, scrambled into the room, and threw themselves into the seats that lined the back row table. And now, those seats are very much worth it. Now, they can talk bad about Snape, with an eighty percent chance, he won't hear them. There's also the advantage of being able to doodle without him realising. Addie is currently drawing a variety of toadstools, stars and 3D shapes across some scrap parchment.
All four of them could hear the earthy groans erupting from the half-asleep students that were dotted around the classroom. An uncomfortable void hung in the stuffy air, Snape's drone and the occasional drip from the nearby tap filling the silence. What Addie would kill for him to dismiss them. The clock seemed to have stopped ticking above the professor's head, time standing still, marking that this marathon of a lesson was never going to end like they all wanted it to.
"I want a five-page essay on the Girding Potion by next week," Professor Snape said, his voice just as colourless and as dreary as the room. He peered out amongst his students, catching a few of them with their heads dropping onto the table. "And don't complain," he snapped, and everyone knew who it was aimed at. Especially if they had their head in their hands or their eyes fastened shut.
