Chapter 13 part 3

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He's quite organized and he's not messy at all. He doesn't just leave his clothes in pile on the floor or his books in cluttered heaps. He picks up after himself and hates clutter. That's what I've observed so far from our first few days of living together. Usually he would drag me to the library after dinner but here we sat in our own dormitory finally having somewhere to be alone. I think he was happy he didn't have to flock to the library to have somewhere private to sit and read it do his assignments. I sat at the piano playing as he read. I began to wonder if this is how it will always be between us. I didn't really mind this as much as I would've thought. I was fed and comfortable, what more did I want? He seemed to be more apt to fulfill my needs now that we are married. Maybe he did take this marriage thing as seriously as men did in the 1940's. Though we know it's a marriage of convenience maybe he is willing to play the part. I guess I don't know his true feelings on our union but he seems content, or at least I hope he is.

When I was a little girl I would sit in my room and daydream of who my husband would be and what he'd look like. I believed he'd be a handsome prince that would rescue me from the strict hold of my parents. He'd take me far far away and we'd live happily ever after in our beautiful palace. I guess I got the far far away part correct, and there is no denying Tom is pretty easy on the eyes; but he's no prince. In my young mind princes were sweet and kind, and my prince would love me unconditionally. You could say I had an obsession with royalty when I was a child. I would tell my mother that someday when I meet my prince he and I would become King and Queen and our reign would be kind and just. My eyes snapped to Tom's form on the couch probably reading up on new ways to hurt others, again, Tom is no prince. I stopped playing the piano for a second as I regathered my thoughts. I noticed Tom pick his head up slightly as he noticed I had stopped. I started to think about my childhood once again, and that's never a good thing. The words to an old lullaby my mom used to sing to me popped into my head as I thought about my childhood daydreams. It was something I hadn't heard it a very long time. I tried to remember the keys and once I did I began to sing along to the tune trying to bring some comfort to myself in the form of music.

Why didn't I feel like crying as I recounted this memory from my childhood? I felt sad but I didn't have the need to bawl my eyes out. It seemed so strange to me because this whole pregnancy all I've wanted to do was cry. As I ended the song I was perfectly content on smiling fondly on this old memory. Could it be I'm getting better at letting go? Maybe it was my acceptance of my new marital status. Maybe it was the fact that my husband was sitting on the couch, and for some reason I felt okay about it. Everyday that goes by I start to become more familiar with being married and pregnant with his kids. It's becoming normal to me somehow, and I don't particularly like that. I feel like I'm betraying myself by feeling that way,but I know those thoughts aren't very beneficial to me.

That's enough piano for today, I thought as I closed the panel to conceal the keys. "Done for today?" Tom suddenly asked. "I think so," I replied as got up from my seat at the piano. Maybe it's because I'm pregnant, but this is really all we do together. We never do anything fun or entertaining, we kind of just sit around being pregnant together as funny as it sounds, I'm not really interested in going out and facing the critical stares of the school, but perhaps there's something semi entertaining I can put together. I'll need some parchment for this, and Tom has loads. In the bedroom I walked over to the shelf with all his books and tore a piece of parchment from his stash. From there I began folding it and writing on it to create what the muggleborns of my time called a "cootie catcher". He doesn't need to know it's a muggle creation. Once I was done I placed my fingers inside of it and moved them around to look over my creation. Cheerfully, I made my way over to Tom and sat beside him with my "fortune teller" on my my fingers. "Pick a color," I said holding it out so he could see the options. He looked up from his books and settled his eyes on my game with a curious stare. "What is that?" He asked, obviously he was a little weirded out by it. "It's called a cootie catcher," I said to which he furrowed his brows. "A what catcher?" He asked with amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh come on just pick one," I said trying to hold back an eye roll. He leaned forward to have a better look at it. "Green," he said to which I smiled happily because he was cooperating surprisingly. "No surprise there, G-r-e-e-n," I said while shifting it around for every letter and opening it to the number side.

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