incomplete; finishing in comments!
WHO: Ingrid Catchlove & Greta Catchlove
WHAT: :XXX
WHEN: Today
WHERE: Gryffindor Girls' Bathroom


It couldn't be possible, right?

Ingrid watched the clear fluid in the vial bubble softly as she sat, wringing her hands together, on the floor beside the Gryffindor girls' shared shower. The potion, the dreaded potion which in just minutes had the power to determine the fate of the rest of her life, stared back at her ominously in all its bubbling... bubblyness from its perch on the edge of the sink, and staring into it only made her heart beat faster. Was it starting to fizz? Or was she just imagining that? The box had said it took a good fifteen minutes and her watch clearly said it'd only been eight, but what if her watch was wrong and she'd been thinking she had seven more minutes left when she really didn't? She wasn't prepared for this now, not--well, not ever really, but somehow sitting here in anxiety made her feel like that seven minutes meant all the difference. Who knew, in seven minutes she could have magically grown up and realized what she was going to do if that potion changed color, she could have owled Christian and told him how sorry she was and she just needed him to appear there and let her make things up to him before anything was confirmed because the fact that he wasn't there and he wasn't going to be there was making everything worse and, oh god seriously, this couldn't be possible, right?

"GRETA!"

At the moment, Ingrid could really care less that her sister--no one, actually--knew that she'd managed to get a hold of a pregnancy test, hell, even knew she had suspicions at all. She needed someone here, and since the only way she was going to ever get Christian to even look at her again was by some miracle of God, Greta was definitely the next person that she wanted. Every second that her twin took in getting to the door (seriously, it was not that far across the dorm), Ingrid managed to see the vial bubbling up faster, and she couldn't help the panic that rose in her chest. "GET IN HERE, I'M SERIOUS, GRETA!"

"For god's sake, Ingrid, I'm coming!"

She threw down her notebook hurriedly and ran to the bathroom, honestly terrified that her sister had managed to spill mass amounts of blood, or broken bones, or twisted limbs horribly. And she was set to lecture her sister about basic bathroom safety--like not splashing water everywhere so that it forms dangerous puddles, and then not stepping into the large dangerous puddles if you did happen to make them (both of which had happened to her earlier that day). And frankly, she was a little bit irritated that she hadn't been allowed to sit for more than a few minutes that day, because something or other caused her to get about, so she hoped it was something fairly dire.

Upon entering the bathroom, however, she wouldn't have called it "dire," per se, but it was definitely attention-grabbing.

"What... Ingrid, what the hell is that?"

"What does it look like?"

Okay, so she hadn't meant to snap like that at her, but really, couldn't she just come in and sit down and give hugs and not ask horrible questions that Ingrid would have much rather avoided? ... Right, no, so she couldn't actually expect her to do that, but it would have made things much easier, nonetheless. It occured to Ingrid then that it would be really bad if this test came out positive or negative, because if it came out negative, then she was still going to have to explain, at least to one member of her family, the reason why she thought it was possible that she was... that thing she didn't dare say now... in the first place. In a family like hers, something like this was a big deal. Catastrophic. Totally one of the worst things that could ever happen.

Oh god, she was going to so get disowned. And then she'd have nowhere to go because she had to be an idiot and break up with Christian over something that she really knew wasn't even his fault and then she'd be out on the streets and she'd die. SHE WOULD DIE AND IT WOULD BE VERY HORRIBLE AND WAS THIS WHAT HORMONES WERE LIKE? BECAUSE SHE FELT DRAMATIC AND SHE WANTED TO CRY AND THIS WAS GOING TO BE THE END OF THE WORLD.

Greta frowned for a moment, looking very unsure. It only took a few moments for comprehension to dawn. "Oh--oh. Did... Ingrid, did you and Christian? I mean, I sort of figured, but then I didn't really, and I wasn't sure if, well, if that was really what happened or not, but after a certain point in a relationship--any sort of relationship--well, not any, obviously, just the romantic kind, but--is it a relationship? I thought it was, but then it seems like something bad happened at you and he aren't really--oh!" her eyebrows went up further. "Did he... I mean... was it mutual?"

Oh, wow, Greta. That was probably a very smart thing to say to say to an obviously distraught twin sister. Make her sound like a harlot and then ask her if she was raped. That probably helped the situation a lot.

Then again, it wasn't as if she knew all the intimate (no! Not intimate! Bad pun!) details of Ingrid and Christian's relationship. They were twins, but even twins like to have privacy. And she and Ingrid had been really busy, so it wasn't as if they had all this time to sit and gab about each other's lives.

Her eyes went back to the vial. Whoops.

Ingrid couldn't really say anything against Greta's spazzing--she was such a horrible spazzer herself, after all--but she sure as hell did wish her sister would just shut up already.

"Greta.." she groaned, her eyes still not leaving the vial even as she spoke. It seemed like the second she looked away, it was going to turn and if she did look away, there was no telling if she'd get the nerve back to look at it again. Ingrid's fingers clenched around her arms as she held her legs tightly to her, feeling as if she was squeezing the life out of herself, but it was all better than getting up and kicking Greta or something. "It's not---no, not---he didn't, I just--Can you please come over here before I start to hypervenilate?" her voice was pleading with her twin to just understand because the seconds were slipping away from them quicker than she could keep up with and if that potion started to do something and there was no one to be sitting down there with her, there was no telling what she would do.

She blinked for a moment before hurriedly dropping down beside her sister and holding her shoulders in show of apology and moral support. Completely wigging out and questions could be saved for later. But right now, she needed to be a silent supporter more than anything.

"Don't worry," she whispered, almost afraid to speak louder now that she had left the initial panic phase. "I hope you don't think what you did was wrong. I think guilt complexes are awful. And I wouldn't worry about mum and dad either, because... well, I don't think you need to worry about them right now. Just... it'll be okay, you know that, right? Whatever happens. I mean, if it's... well, if you aren't, then we can just go back to how it was, and if you are... then... it'll be manageable. So don't worry, all right? Whatever you do," she bit her lip nervously. "I think you can get spots on your face if you worry too much."

Well. She tried to be a silent supporter. Who knew her panic-release was to jabber a whole heck of a lot?

"Right, right..." Ingrid muttered. She didn't particularly sound as if she believed anything that Greta was saying, but she did sound like she was trying to believe it, because that would make things so much easier, if she could just believe that things would be alright. It would make the waiting easier, it would make the result--positive or not--easier and and she really fucking wished that Greta was right and this would all be okay one way or another. No matter how it turned out.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned her temple against her twin's head, eyes still not leaving the vial of potion, which was---oh shit, it really was starting to fizz this time, she was sure of it, and if Ingrid had been in any other situation, she might have felt bad for the way that she suddenly attempted to break Greta's arm with the strong, panicked clutch of her hand. God, God, God, it was swirling now, and was there a way to die of nervousness, because she was certain that she would die of it before the result came out--or if not nervousness, then definitely her heart was going to beat its way out of her chest and just flop on the floor and then she'd be dead anyway, but that would be a very bad thing right now because oh my god that was--

--it was blue.

"Oh no."

Ingrid was certain that she didn't sound even half as terrified as she actually was.

The now-fizzing vial drew Greta's attention much like a train wreck would. She actually felt, for her sister's sake, that if she looked away from it, she'd somehow foul up the results. Which was ridiculous, considering it wasn't even her test and Ingrid was watching it like a hawk. Not surprising, given the weight something like this held.

And for a moment, she marveled at the irony--that something so small, and so delicate, taking in the nature of glass and its fragility, could alter a person's life so much.

The vise Greta's arm had been in just a second before slackened.

Color.

Blue.

"Well," she said, weakly.

And for once, Greta was actually at a loss for words.

She was going to cry, seriously.

No, it wasn't just dramatics and nervousness this time, Ingrid Catchlove was really going to cry--sob actually, said the choking feeling building up in her throat, and finally she looked away from the vial so that she could throw her arms around Greta and bury her head in her shoulder. She did sob then, and she didn't care because she felt like she deserved it now that her life had officially thrown itself through a loop, upside down, and inside out all within the span of fifteen minutes.

How had this happened? They... Ingrid knew they had never been safe, she just hadn't acknowledged it because honestly, how rare was it to get pregnant when you only saw your boyfriend once a bloody month? And even though she'd known that it was possible, it still seemed so horribly impossible and unfair and she still couldn't help but ask how this had managed to happen to her. And Christian, there was no way that he was ready for a child when he could hardly support himself and--

--oh Merlin. She'd almost forgotten. Christian... would he even know his son? She wouldn't blame him for--well yeah, she would blame him if he didn't want a part in her or their baby's life, but would she even--shit, how was she going to tell him? Should she tell him? Her mind was working at a million miles an hour, coming up with a new and even more impossible problem each second and it was more than she could handle.

"We..." She had forgotten until just now that she hadn't even had a chance to tell Greta about how things had gone after the confrontation she'd had with him days ago. "We're not together."