Fest Fic: Summer Storm, PG-13

[hp_bito_mod]

Title: Summer Storm
Author/Artist:
Pairing(s): Angelina Johnson/ Graham Montague
Prompt: # O8. They find out about the pregnancy after the break-up. Now what?
Summary: Six months after their breakup, they meet again.
Word Count: 3192
Rating: T
Warnings/Contains: n/a
Notes: Many thanks to G. for being my beta. Remaining mistakes are mine alone.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Charing Cross Road was a bustling hub of activity, a never-ending stream of people and traffic flowing up and down the street. Bookshops, cafes, and theatres lined the street, their windows displaying their wares and luring in customers with the promise of a good time. The sounds of chatter, footsteps, and horns honking filled the air, creating a chaotic and exciting symphony of noise.

Amidst all that stood Graham Montague. Hands in his pockets and deep in thought, he stared at the shabby pub sandwiched between an elegant antique bookstore and trendy record store. Opening the battered door would lead him into the Leaky Cauldron, and back to his recent past.

Graham struggled to keep his composure as his nerves threatened to get the better of him. The only reason he didn’t turn on his heels and Apparate away in broad daylight, the International Statute of Secrecy be damned, was Angelina. She was waiting for him inside. He couldn’t bear the thought of letting her down. If his foolish behaviour months ago hadn’t done it yet, standing her up now would certainly ruin any chance of reconciliation.

But did they have to meet here?

The last time Graham had been at the Leaky was shortly after Valentine’s Day, almost six months ago. That had been a wild, wild night that had started with a pint with an old friend and ended with him sleeping off his stupor in one of the MLE’s holding cells. Whatever happened in between was still a bit hazy, but the damage he had caused enormous.

A bright flash followed by a clap of thunder jolted Graham out of his musings. He couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to face the woman who had broken his heart.

***

Graham unfolded the wrinkled note to check the time and date again, wondering whether Angelina had stood him up or he got the details wrong.

It was relatively quiet in the Leaky Cauldron. A handful of rowdy older witches were seated at the large round table in the middle, their needlework in hand as they gossiped and enjoyed a brandy. A lone wizard with his hood pulled so far over his head that it obscured his face was sitting at the bar, an untouched pint in front of him.

Tom stood behind the bar, polishing a wineglass as he curiously studied his new guest. His welcoming grin morphed into a deep scowl when he saw what the cat had dragged in.

“It’s you,” he said in disgust.

“Hiya, Tom.” Graham smiled stiffly, inclining his head in greeting. He couldn’t blame Tom for the frosty welcome. It was a miracle that he was allowed to enter at all.

The last time he was here, he had been with Cassius Warrington, sitting in the same spot the hooded wizard was in. Angelina had dumped him that morning and hurt to his very core, Graham had spent hours bitching and ranting to Cassius about it. And drinking, lots of drinking. Everything after that first bottle of Firewhiskey was a blur.

Looking back, Graham got off easy, primarily thanks to his parents and a large chunk of their life savings. They had been furious with him, of course, absolutely disgusted by his behaviour and close to disowning him. They hadn’t. Instead, by the time he was released from jail the next afternoon, they had already covered the fine and fully reimbursed Tom for his damages and additional costs. In return, Tom had declined to file a complaint. That generous kindness had spared Graham from a Wizengamot hearing and expulsion from the Healer Training Programme he was close to finishing.

“You’re late,” Tom said gruffly. He pointed the grey cloth towards a door that led into one of the private parlours. “They’re in the back.”

“Yes, sir,” Graham muttered. He would have liked to express his gratitude again but felt that bringing it now would do more harm than good. It was that he wasn’t forgiven yet.

“I’m watching you, boy.”

Graham nodded again, cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he quickly walked in the direction Tom had pointed him. Suddenly, he was hit with a realisation.

Had Tom said ‘they’?

***

“Why?” groaned Graham in annoyance as he closed the door behind him.

The joy of seeing Angelina again after all this time was overshadowed by the man sitting at the table close to hers.

In all fairness, Graham hadn’t expected Angelina to come alone. Not after what had happened the last time he had tried to talk to her. The details were fuzzy, but his father said it had been bad. Apparently, drunken and upset and in a hurry to escape a furious Tom, he had Apparated to the Johnson home that night. That was where the Aurors, one of them Angelina’s father, had found him.

Still, she had no reason to bring him along.

Him being George Weasley, the source of all of Graham’s misery, the sole reason behind Angelina breaking up with him. Resentment for the man ran deep.

The feeling seemed mutual. Weasley, too had distrust and contempt written all over his face. He nodded once in greeting but kept otherwise quiet as Graham passed by. Not that any words were needed. The wand lying openly on the table spoke volumes.

Again, Graham understood why Weasley didn’t trust him. He wouldn’t either if the shoe had been on the other foot. But he was here to talk to Angelina, apologise for his behaviour, and see if they could be friends again in the future. Nothing more. That was what he would’ve told Weasley had they been friendly. But they weren’t, so all the ginger prick got was an angry glare.

That glare eased as soon as he reached Angelina.

“Hi.” It wasn’t the smooth opening Graham had rehearsed on his way to the pub, but he forgot what he wanted to say as soon as he laid eyes on her. The only thing he could think about was how much he had missed her.

A big smile spread across Angelina’s face as he pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her. “Hi.”

Graham took his time to study her. She was as pretty as he remembered, with her plaits pulled into a sagging topknot and dressed in a low-cut yellow summer dress with a floral print. He swallowed hard as he tried not to stare at her chest or focus on how the fabric stretched over the swell of her breasts. Those hadn’t always been there. He was sure of it.

‘Behave,’ he silently scolded himself, forcing his eyes to her face. The amusement there told him she knew exactly what he had been looking at and what he was thinking. Feeling caught, he couldn’t help but smile and shrug.

Some things never changed, and she knew it too.

Graham couldn’t quite pinpoint what was different about Angelina. She had a certain glow about her that caught his attention. She appeared to be in better health and plumper than the last time he saw her, when she was suffering from stomach flu. It seemed that her mother’s relentless efforts to fatten her up had finally succeeded.

In fact, Angelina looked as if the past six months hadn’t been as difficult for her as they had been for him. But then Graham remembered George Weasley sitting behind him and the part he had played in their breakup. Indeed, the last six months must have been very different for her.

George Weasley pointedly cleared his throat, reminding Graham they were there to talk.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” he said softly. He had to suppress the urge to reach out and take Angelina’s hands into his.

“Really? Why would you think that?” Angelina tilted her head to the side, rapping her nails on the side of the glass. It was the only giveaway that she was as nervous as he was. “I invited you, remember?”

Call him crazy, but Graham was sure she wanted to reach out to him too.

“True, true. It’s just...” He caught himself before his gaze strayed towards her chest and quickly looked away.

As her smile grew wider, he forgot what he had wanted to say again. Despite this, he found himself smiling in response. Would she mind if he moved to the seat next to her, so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her close?

“Gods, you look… beautiful.”

As Angelina shyly thanked him, Weasley nearly choked on his beer at the other table.

“The glamours,’ he coughed, ‘tell him about the glamour-”

“No one asked you, George,” Angelina snapped.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Graham was sure there was already trouble in paradise.

If only.

“So, uhm, how’ve you been?”

Angelina turned her attention back to Graham. The scowl directed at Weasley had eased into a gentle smile again.

“I’ve been better, to be honest, but I keep going. You know how it is,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes. Just as Graham wanted to ask what was bothering her, she quickly turned the question to him. “You? I was a bit surprised to hear you had returned so soon. I thought your speciality would take another three years?”

Graham grimaced. She was referring to his Healer studies in Paris.

“Yeah, about that...” he heaved a deep sigh, not sure where to begin. “I got homesick being all alone there. So, I decided to do my speciality training in London after all.”

It wasn’t the entire truth, but there was no point in laying his soul bare to her anymore. He got homesick because she didn’t come with him like they’d planned. Here, in England, he at least had his friends and family to turn to when he got lonely. And even if they weren’t together anymore, it was comforting to know Angelina was close. It made keeping tabs on her a lot easier.

“I’m looking for a flat close to St Mungo’s. It’s only been three days but bloody hell, living with my parents again after all this time is a lot harder than I’d expected,” he added light-heartedly to break the tension. “Mum isn’t too happy with me. More than usual, I mean. Apparently, I mucked up her plans to redecorate my old bedroom. You’d think she’d be happy to have her baby back.”

This time, it was Angelina’s turn to choke on her drink. Weasley sniggered.

“Her baby, right. Your mum is a sweetheart. I’m sure she’s delighted to have you home again. Even if she doesn’t always show it.” Angelina carefully set her glass back on the table. “I’m sorry about Paris. I know how hard you worked to get in. But for what it’s worth, I’m happy you’ve decided to return.”

Graham was sure that it was a mistake on her part when she reached over the table and took his hand into hers. But as the seconds ticked away and his heart started racing faster and faster, her hand stayed where it was. Ultimately, he decided she probably meant it in a friendly way because he didn’t dare get his hopes up.

“How’s the family?” he asked quickly, too afraid that she’d get up and leave if he didn’t keep the conversation going. Then he remembered where the Aurors had caught up to him and wished he hadn’t brought it up.

“Mum’s fine. She sends her love,” Angelina said. Seeing the surprise on his face, she added, laughing, “You can’t be surprised? You’re the son she never had. You’ll have to do much worse than incinerate her rosebushes to get her to dislike you.”

Graham grimaced in embarrassment. He vaguely recalled sobbing and drunk-yelling in the Johnsons’ garden, begging Angelina to come out and talk to him whilst Mrs Johnson tried reasoning with him. He also remembered the roses and wanting to pluck a few to give to Angelina as a peace offering. Still, he couldn’t recall setting them on fire.

Surely he hadn’t, had he?

“And dad is just, well, dad. You know how he can get,” she trailed off. Her nose crinkled as it always did when she was troubled about something. “We had a falling out a few months ago. He was quite upset with me, but we’re-”

“You know he was right,” George interrupted.

“Keep out of it, George,” Angelina said through gritted teeth. When she was sure that Weasley would keep his gob shut, she continued. “As I was saying, we only recently made amends. Things are still a bit tense, but he’ll get over it, eventually.”

“You sure about that?” muttered George.

Angelina and her father butting heads was nothing new, they were too much alike not to, but their disagreements typically didn’t last more than a few hours. It must have been a pretty serious row if they hadn’t spoken to each other for so long.

Angelina shook her head at Weasley. Sighing, she squeezed Graham’s hand. “I’ve really missed you.”

“I, ah-” Graham cleared his throat when she started caressing his knuckles with her thumb. What was she getting at? Weasley was right there. “How are things with you two?”

He must have something wrong because Angelina’s smile fell from her face. She leaned back in her chair, dropping his hand like a hot cauldron.

“How are you, Georgie?” she asked with a sigh.

Graham quickly glanced over his shoulder, feigning interest in whatever Weasley had to say. He hoped it was enough effort for Angelina.

“Good, good, nothing to complain about,” said George impatiently, pointedly looking at and tapping his wrist. He wasn’t wearing a watch. “Listen, the shop is mad busy, and Ron is all alone. I really need to get back before he goes bonkers and starts giving away the merchandise for free. Is this gonna take long? Just tell him already.”

“I’ve told you that I’m not rushing this. You can go if you want,” said Angelina as she pointed at the door.

Grinning smugly, Graham glanced at Weasley again.

Unimpressed by both, George merely scoffed in reply. “Good gods, woman, tell him!”

“For the last time, keep out of it,” warned Angelina.

Graham turned in his chair, looking back and forth between Weasley and Angelina. “Tell me what? What’s going on?”

“C’mon Angie, like we rehearsed this morning,” said George, “Spit it out already.”

“You do it then if you think it’s that easy,” Angelina said with a roll of her eyes. “But fine.”

Muttering under her breath, she tugged at Graham’s hand to make him look at her. Her brows were knitted together as she searched for words.

“What is he on about?” Graham asked, worry brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Give me a sec,” Angelina mumbled with a shake of her head. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her chair back. She pretended not to see when Graham turned a whiter shade of pale when she rubbed her hands over her belly. Her very round belly. “We need to talk, Graham.”

***

It took a long time before Graham found his voice again. He couldn’t take his eyes off Angelina and her large belly. Weasley had excused himself to get them drinks and still hadn’t returned. It was a shame because Graham could use a drink or two.

“I know it’s quite the unexpected surprise, but, uhm, please, say something,” Angelina said, arms wrapped protectively around her belly.

“Congratulations,” he managed to choke out after a long silence. “You two sure didn’t waste any time.”

He couldn’t do this, he realised. His feelings for her were still too strong to sit here and pretend that he was happy about this. It killed him to see her carry another man’s child. It should have been him. In need of fresh air, he abruptly stood up. His chair toppled over with a loud clang behind him. “Again, congrats, but I need to go now. Mum’s waiting with supper.”

“Oh, rubbish. Sit down. The only thing you’re mum’s waiting for is us to have this conversation,” Angelina snapped as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “We aren’t done talking yet.”

“Talk about what? How happy you are with that idiot? Thanks, but I get it.” Graham pointed at her. “It kinda shows.”

“Are we still doing this?” Angelina sighed deeply as she rubbed her face. “George is just a friend. A good one.”

“Yeah, a really good one by the looks of it.”

“We’ve been over this a million times. George is one of my best friends. I’m not ending my friendships because of your jealousy issues.” Angelina crossed her arms over her chest. A deep scowl creased her forehead.

And they were right back where they had left off six months ago.

“Good luck with everything, then.” Graham turned to leave, kicking the fallen chair out of his way. Anger and resentment bubbled inside. Had she summoned him here to rub it in his face that she had chosen Weasley over him and apparently always would? What an idiot was he to think that she’d give him another chance.

“Wait, don’t go,” Angelina pleaded. It wasn’t enough to stop him. “Graham, please. There hasn’t been anyone else.”

Graham’s step faltered.

“She’s yours.”

***

A cool breeze had picked up as thunder rumbled in the distance. It wouldn’t be long before the summer storm erupted in full force. It was the long-awaited cooldown after weeks of hot, sticky weather.

“Are you alright?” Graham asked for the umpteenth time in worry when he noticed Angelina grimacing again. Frustrated immensely by her nonchalant shrug, he wanted to grab her by her shoulders and shake her because she was clearly not alright.

They were taking a stroll down Diagon Alley after Angelina had insisted that she needed some fresh air and to stretch her legs. She had promised to explain everything but other than insisting on ice cream from the new ice cream parlour and raving about how good it was, she hadn’t said anything that would explain the baby inside her.

“So, when you said that my mum was waiting for this conversation,” Graham said, waving his hand between them. “Do you mean that she knows? About the, eh, baby? And that’s it’s mine.”

“Yeah, she does. She has known for the last five months or so. St Mungo’s assigned her to me as my midwife. It was quite the awkward surprise for the both of us, as you can imagine.” Angelina side-eyed him. “You can’t be angry with her. I made her promise not to tell anyone the baby is yours. Your dad only knows because mine told him a few weeks ago.”

That explained the frosty air between his parents, Graham thought. He’d deal with his mother later. He would also need to chat with his words because he didn’t buy for one second that none of them knew Angelina was up the duff. A simple warning would have been nice.

“Who else knows the baby is mine?”

“Our parents and, uhm, George, of course,” said Angelina carefully. “I think the girls know, but they haven’t asked outright and I didn’t tell. I think most of your friends believe she’s George’s.”

Sodding Weasley again. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Don’t play dumb. Why didn’t you tell me? Or want my own bleeding mother to tell me?”

“The simple answer is that I didn’t want you to stay or return because of it.” Angelina tightly gripped his hand, forcing him to stop. “Bloody hell, slow down a bit, yeah? It’s too hot, and you’re walking too fast. I’m not that mobile anymore these days.”

Graham wanted to say that the only walking she ought to be doing was up and down St Mungo’s Labour and Delivery Ward because she was clearly in the early stages of labour. But he wisely kept his mouth shut for now. “Start at the beginning. When did you find out?”

Angelina stalled, nipping from her ice cream as she looked everywhere but at him. “I took the test a week after New Year’s.”

“New Year’s, right.” There were a million things that Graham wanted to say, but none were kind, so he bit his tongue. “So, you knew for weeks before you broke up with me, then? Is that why you broke up with me? It wasn’t about Weasley?”

Angelina nodded. At least she looked guilty. “Well, maybe a little. You were being an insufferable arse about George, to be honest.”

Graham decided to ignore that last part. They had bigger fish to fry.

“But why didn’t you tell me?” He couldn’t deny that he was hurt immensely. After everything they’d gone through together before, during, and after the war, he couldn’t comprehend why she’d keep him in the dark like that.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I guess I got scared because I felt I had to give up everything so you could chase your dreams. But I couldn’t tell you that, could I? You were so excited about moving to Paris.”

“I thought you wanted to go too! You were more excited than I was,” said Graham frustrated.

“I did. I was. Then I found out I was pregnant, and suddenly giving up our flat, quitting my job, and leaving my family and friends behind didn’t seem like the smartest thing anymore. I just wanted to stay close to my mum and aunties,” Angelina said in a small voice and ate the last bit of her ice cream. “I didn’t want to go through pregnancy without them.”

“But you had no problems doing it without me?” Graham snapped and immediately felt like an utter heel when she began to sniffle. Taking a few calming breaths, he rephrased his question. “Why didn’t you just tell me that? We could’ve figured something out.”

“Because you worked so hard to get into the programme,” Angelina said quietly. “Would you have gone if I’d told you? About the baby, about me wanting to stay home in our flat.”

“Of course, I would have.” Graham deflated a bit. “No, probably not. But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? I still quit the programme to come back home because I missed you too much.”

“I’m sorry.” Angelina’s face briefly contorted. “For what it’s worth, my dad gave me an earful when he found out that I didn’t tell you about the baby. I hadn’t seen him that angry since he walked in on us in my bed that summer before our seventh year.”

“Oh Gods,” Graham groaned, momentarily forgotten that they were in the middle of an important discussion. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

He had managed to reach the hearth just in the time that day. Whilst he had escaped the worst of Auror Desmond Johnson’s wrath, he still had to explain to his own parents why he had tumbled out of the fireplace, completely starkers. It had taken him a long time to get back on Mr Johnson’s good side again.

“He just wanted to have a chat with you.” Angelina giggled along when he laughed at the memory.

Needing to move to ease her discomfort, she linked her arm with his and slightly pulled it to resume their stroll. They fell into a slow pace, both deep in thought.

“Graham?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you can forgive me one day?”

Graham needed to think about that. “Would you have told me if I hadn’t come back?”

“My dad bought us train tickets to Paris. We were supposed to visit you two weeks ago so I could come clean and ask you to give things another go,” she said. “But a few days before we were supposed to leave, your mum told us you’d owled and were coming home. So, we decided to wait for that with me being so close to my due date.”

Angelina took a deep breath as she stretched her back. “I guess I’m trying to say is yes, I would’ve told you once I got over myself.”

“In that case, I’ll probably forgive you once I get over myself,” he said wryly. “We’ll talk about giving it another go when I have.”

“Fair enough,” Angelina said, nodding. Her grip on his arm tightened. “It was three days ago, in case you were wondering.”

“What was?”

“My due date.”

Right, they were having a baby.

They shuffled along in silence. As Graham slyly guided her back to The Leaky Cauldron so they could use the Floo if needed, Angelina slowed considerably. Another thunderclap sent the first fat raindrops down on them as they passed Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. George stood behind the window, eyeing their every move like a hawk.

Angelina finally gave up walking and looked down at herself. “Graham?”

He had a pretty good idea about what she was going to say next by the horrified expression on Weasley’s face. “Yeah?”

“I’m either pissing myself, or my waters just broke.”

***

It was only in the early hours of the following morning that Graham found time to think. He was sitting in the chair by the window, too charged with adrenaline to close his eyes, even for a moment. In the hospital bed behind him, Angelina slept soundly after a very short and very intense labour and delivery.

They hadn’t resolved any of their issues, her waters breaking pushing that to the background. But they both knew that once she was recovered, they would need to talk about where and why their relationship had taken a wrong turn and about their potential future as a couple.

For Graham, however, their future was clear.

“What do you think, love? Should your mum and I give it another try?” he asked quietly as he gazed down at the bundle in his arms. He used to think he could never love anyone else as much as he loved Angelina. Last night had proved him wrong.

His daughter’s answer was a wide yawn.

“Yes, indeed,” Graham said, smiling softly, “My sentiments exactly.”

Gently, he caressed her delicate cheek. The thought that she was his and Angelina’s was almost overwhelming. Twenty-four hours ago, he hadn’t known about her, and now, he couldn’t imagine his life without his daughter.

“But I think we first need to have another, a more important discussion with your mother. What do you think?”

The little girl looked up at him in wonder, blinking slowly.

“I have to warn you, though. It may take some effort to convince your mum. She can be a bit pig-headed. But that’s okay. I can be too.”

Indeed, Graham was not looking forward to that particular discussion, but it had to be done and he’d better get his way because Angelina owed him. Big time. It was the least she could do to make it up to him.

“I can’t wait to see her face when I tell her that I already have a name picked out for you. It’s a pretty one, too. Just like you are.”

Too mesmerised with his newborn daughter, Graham failed to notice that Angelina had woken up and was watching them until she shrewdly said,

“Forget it. We’re not naming her after your grandmother.”