She knew something was just not right; in fact, something was downright wrong.
For the past several weeks, she had simply been feeling different, not herself. At first, she had passed it off as feeling just slightly under the weather, but it hadnít ceased.
So now, here she sat, in St. Mungoís Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, waiting for Healer Frederick to come in and speak with her. The walls surrounding her were that annoyingly bright white colour that made up the magical hospital, and there was absolutely nothing at all to do while she waited. I do wish sheíd hurry up. I donít have all day to sit here.
Finally, though, Healer Kathy Frederick came in and sat down opposite her.
ďWell, Mrs. Malfoy,Ē she began, a smile on her tanned face, ďI think congratulations are in order, so, congratulations; youíre pregnant.Ē
Narcissa did not respond right away. In fact, she wasnít even sure that she still retained the ability to speak. The last two words that Healer Frederick had spoken kept reverberating through her mind.
ďNo, Iím sorry. There has to be a mistake. I canít be pregnant.Ē Really, I canít. Iím nowhere near ready to be a mother, and Lucius is not any closer towards being ready to be a father than the first time we talked about this.
ďI assure you, Mrs. Malfoy, that you are, indeed, pregnant, and several weeks along, too, by the results of the tests.Ē
There was no way that Narcissa could argue that magic would produce faulty test results. If the tests said she was pregnant, then she was.
Okay, breathe. Just breathe . . . nice and slowly,
she thought. Maybe this isnít such a bad thing. A baby could be a good thing, a good addition to the family. Perhaps itís just what Lucius and I need to make things better . . .
But the other part of her mind was screaming just the opposite. Of course this is bad! Iím not ready to be a mother, I said! Lucius isnít ready to be a father! Those are not just made-up excuses; theyíre facts!
Okay, so weíre not ready just yet,
she thought, arguing with herself, but thereís nine months before the babyís born. In nine months, we could both be ready. Besides, Lucius has wanted this for awhile, now, and once he knows, things could get back to the way that they were before . . . back when everything was good . . . when everything was perfect.
Yes, a baby could indeed be a good thing.