August 13th, 1888 - Umbridge Residence
Edric Umbridge

Twice in less than a week was pushing it. Febs knew she shouldn't have even come tonight, but she'd been in such a bad mood and gotten into a stupid fight with her mother that she'd booked it as soon as the house was quiet. Maybe the reality of everything was catching up with her, but she'd had a headache all day and was generally just irritable and she felt awful about how it had all happened, but it had pushed her a little too far.

So she went where she was happiest and crawled into bed with Edric, no questions asked. A little lighthearted pillow talk had her feeling better already and she'd drifted off into a relatively easy sleep curled up into him.

She hadn't any idea how long she'd slept for, but at some point she felt uncomfortable and had rolled over, some part of her always touching him. Drawing her knees up, she felt the discomfort ebb a little and she drifted back out. Maybe something she'd eaten wasn't agreeing with her. Sometime later, long after she'd thought the uneasy feeling in her stomach would have passed, Febs felt an odd twinge that shook the sleep from her completely.

She knew that feeling.

Febs pressed her hands to her abdomen trying to suppress the cramps. It wasn't anything excruciating, she'd felt these every month since she'd turned fourteen. Her nightgown stuck to her legs unpleasantly and she grimaced. Pushing down the covers, Febs could see the light blue of her nightgown stained red.  She hadn't meant to, it just slipped out, but all she could do was laugh maniacally. In her relief she'd totally forgotten where she was and she quickly covered her mouth, but it was too late for that, she cast a quick look over her shoulder at him, clearly wide awake now and all she could do was laugh more.

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   Desdemona Pettigrew, Edric Umbridge, Imogen MacFusty, Thistle Potts

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Despite all the talk of being unable to keep their hands to themselves, they'd proven tonight that they very much were. Admittedly it wasn't a planned sleepover; they'd put together a schedule once the fog lifted as to avoid awkward intrusions during the evening hours, but it seemed February had managed to find her way in anyways - and without making a scene, much to his relief. He'd did little more than raise his brows in question, and when she had none to offer him, he merely held open his arms, a welcome for her to crawl into bed beside him.

And she had. They'd fallen asleep shortly after, hours of paperwork having worn him so much that he was nearly incapable of getting his words out in coherent phrases. The hours had passed, and Febby had somehow managed to escape his grasp and find herself on the side of the bed opposite by the time she startled him from his sleep.

"What - What is it?" he gasped, his body instinctively jerking into an upright position. He peered around, looking for anything - or anyone - that was glaringly out of place.

And then his eyes landed on her. Propped up in bed and wearing her seemingly bloodstained nightgown, February Lynch sat there, mouth hanging open in the what could only be described as an unsettling, maniacal laughter. Maybe it was the setting - his own bedroom in the midnight hour - or maybe it was because he knew her, but the image before him was one of a mad woman. His mad woman. Unsure of whether to be concerned for her life or frightened for his own, Edric merely sat there, mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

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— set by MJ! —

His voice brought her out of her hysterics and she bit her lip hard to stifle any more laughter from escaping. Tears had sprung up in the corners of her eyes and she was breathless by the time she could say anything. "I'm sorry," Another laugh. She brought her hands up to her mouth, biting down on her index finger to stop herself.

Blowing out a breath, she felt the weeks' worth of anxiety finally dissolve, pure relief washing over her. Something else nagged at her, but she couldn't quite pinpoint it just yet. "Two things, well three. I didn't meant to, but I've ruined the sheets- I can take care of it though!" Merlin that should have been way more embarrassing than she was finding it at the moment; she'd be absolutely mortified when the shock wore off. Fortunately, she had plenty of experience cleaning up this kind of mess.

Casting another, more poignant look over her shoulder, she sighed and pulled the covers up to her chest. "I can honestly and in no uncertain terms, tell you that we are not going to be parents any time soon." If she weren't terrified of making things worse, she would have literally gotten up and jumped for joy.

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   Elijah Urquart

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She did not seem as concerned as he was, which in itself was another point of concern. He continued to stare at her, waiting for anything - an explanation of some sort, probably, but for a moment all she could do was apologize.

And then she said it: they weren't going to be parents.

For the most part, he was relived. The prospect of becoming a parent so soon and what that entailed - a sudden, presumably scandalous elopement; the prospect of losing the Minister's (and the public's) faith in him; the thought of gaining unwanted enemies in the form of his in-laws - were not at all experiences he was looking forward to, so of course he was relieved. There was, however, another, more insecure part of him that was sort of...disappointed.

Between their pondering of what they had to lose, there had been plenty of time to ponder on what he had to gain. A wife. A child. A family of his own, full of affection and, more importantly, commitment. He could see the bubbly little girl with thick brown waves and her mother's blue eyes, puttering around a seaside cottage with a picture book in her hands. It was an image he'd conjured up as a means of coping, and he'd slowly grown fond of it. Of course - the feelings weren't rational. Why mourn a child that never existed? He'd get all of those things, and he'd get to have them on their own time and when they were ready.

That didn't stop him from remaining quiet for a good, long moment. The next moment, though, her obvious glee combined with his own feelings of relief allowed a smile to spread on his lips.

"Don't worry about the sheets - there are always new ones," he chuckled, tempted to pull her into a hug but not wanting to spread the mess any further than her position. He moved off the bed and quickly maneuvered to her end, offering both his hands to help her up. "Come on, lover. We'll get you cleaned up."

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   February Umbridge

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— set by MJ! —

Coming down off the realization high, Febs registered what that other, less obvious feeling had been; disappointment.

It left her even more breathless than the relief. Why in the name of Merlin's beard would she be disappointed? That was the last emotion she expected to feel and the most irrational, but there it was, plain as day, sitting square on her chest. For all she hadn't wanted to be pregnant, the notion had been growing on her day by day. Now it was suddenly all gone and she was thrilled, but incomprehensibly sad as well.

Before she could stop him, he was already up and around the bed and Febs now also registered the sheer embarrassment of the situation. She pulled the blanket, which was thankfully spared, up to her chin. "You, you stop right there." Febs looked at him with wide, affectionately amused eyes. Honestly she was a little shocked that he wasn't completely grossed out at the moment. Actually, she was surprised he hadn't run for the hills altogether. "I love you to the moon and back right now, more than you could possibly ever know, but just- just step outside for a minute?" Merlin's beard she was not going to deal with this while he was in the room.

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He didn't want to leave the room. Not really. Leaving would mean spending time alone - however long or little - which would give him time to think. Edric Umbridge was a morose sort of man who easily fell into the rabbit hole of regrets and sorrows when given the opportunity, but being with Febby often evoked the sort of pride that stopped him from showing his sadness. Thus, at her request, he froze up, only to resume his actions a moment later.

"No, really - let me help you, lover," he insisted, his breath nearly catching as he bent over to collect the sheets. He avoided eye contact in the hopes that she'd give in without a fight, completely unaware of the embarrassment she was feeling. He'd dealt with blood before, and thought his mind was pointing out that this was very obviously feminine blood, his desire to stay in the room quickly rationalized that they couldn't be much different.

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— set by MJ! —

Febs watched in horror as he completely ignored her, embarrassment climbing. It spoke of a generous level of comfort between them, of which she was grateful for, but she was not prepared. Gently she reached out to lay her hand on his arm to stop him. "Just pass me my wand, I can't even tell you how many times I've done this before." Thank Merlin for magic, how did muggles handle this?

"At least turn around for a minute, yeah?" She prompted gently, once her wand was in hand, a reasonable request really. She could get comfortable with this after they were married.

Oh shit, she was going to have to pop home for just a split second to grab supplies.  First things first.

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It only took another glance towards her face to cede his efforts, the obvious humiliation on her face causing his own cheeks to tint pink. His hand moved on its own accord, grabbing her wand and handing it off to her, his eyes still unable to meet hers. There were so many emotions going through his mind - relief, guilt, disappointment, embarrassment - and he'd never had to face them in a situation like this. What did men do when their wives menstruated? Were women able to...stop it? And if so, could Febby stop it?

He reluctantly turned around, unsure of what plans she had - both for her wand and the blood. Surely she could just clean it up, but then what? Would she keep bleeding through the night? They did have clothes for that, right?

"What are you going to do?" he asked almost reluctantly, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

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— set by MJ! —

Knowing his heart was in the right place helped ease the embarrassment a little. He would likely have to get used to this anyway, if there were to share a bed every night in the future. Not that she'd ever really not known if or when it was coming either.

Thankfully he at least obliged her request to turn around and she scrambled off the bed to survey the damage. Not bad, fortunately. With a quick household spell learned from Mrs. H. shortly after this whole nonsense started, everything, including her nightgown was as good as new. However it wouldn't stay that way for long.

"I am going to duck home for five minutes and get a few things so that doesn't happen again and then I'll be right back," She answered as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Unless you'd rather I just stay home and so you don't have to deal with this." She couldn't blame him one bit if he did. He'd handled it with a lot more grace than she had expected already.

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Febby worked her magic (literally, in this case) and was done before he managed to turn around to check for himself. The kiss to his shoulder, while not completely reassuring, did help him relax for the moment. An only child with only a father - and a distant one at that - meant his experience with women in his home was nearly nonexistent, and even then he didn't expect that moment men were well-educated in the field of women's health. He hadn't been sure whether she needed a specific item or article of clothing or something just to stop the bleeding.

(Surely women could bleed out, couldn't they? He supposed he was fortunate not to have woken up to a very bloody, very dead Febby - he'd have a hard time explaining that to his staff, her family, and the investigative team. The longer he thought about it, the quicker the urge to have her stay faded away.)

"Oh, go ahead," he said, his face contorted with concern. "Five minutes, ten minutes, an hour - as long as you need to not die," he added with a nervous chuckle, but a chuckle nonetheless.

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— set by MJ! —

"Oh Love, I'm fine. Done this once a month for almost eight years, except last month," Which was thankfully apparently just a life lesson her body was trying to teach her for being a reckless idiot. Maybe it had been the stress and the illness after all, like Tuni had said.

"Hasn't killed me yet, I'll be right back." Honestly relieved he hadn't said to stay home, Febs gave him one more quick squeeze before stepping back and apparating to her room.

Thank Merlin she'd thought to put a little sound muffling charm on her door to cover the pop that accompanied her  arrival. She had everything she needed tucked away in her room, trying to fool Lydia into thinking she already dealt with it this month. In the quiet solitude of her room, Febs blew out a slow breath to prevent it from hitching in response to the threatening tears. She felt absolutely insane for the wave of disappointment all of a sudden, but it was there and it was obvious. Wiping away a few errant tears, she pulled herself together as best she could.

She didn't have time for that nonsense, she didn't want to keep him up all night. Must have been the moodiness getting her all riled up, so did her best to ignore it as she moved around her room, as if it were any normal month.

Satisfied she wouldn't be leaking anywhere, Febs mopped up her face, though knew he'd see right through her and apparated back.

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He offered no response to her answer, and in the next moment she was gone. He could feel his emotions weighing him down, so, after one quick survey of the bed to ensure everything was indeed cleaned up, he sat on the edge of the mattress. He tried to focus on his breaths - inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth, repeat - until he felt the tightness in his chest beginning to fade. Defining the emotion was easy enough, but figuring out how to handle it was the most difficult part. Talking about it, while the most obvious option, was something he wasn't sure he could really talk to Febby about. How could he possibly take away her joy by weighing her down with his feelings? To make her feel guilty for her body resuming its normal functions just seemed - well, cruel.

He didn't have much time to weigh the pros and cons of his alternatives, as Febby suddenly appeared back in the room the next moment. He avoided eye contact at first, hoping his own somber emotions no longer remained on his face, but when he did glance up, it was obvious her expression mirrored his own.

It was not the face of a woman who was happy.

"Febs?" he murmured, the tightness in his chest slowly creeping back in. "Are you alright?"

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   February Umbridge

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— set by MJ! —

Clearly she hadn't been the only one having a moment.

Passing him a sad, sheepish smile, she moved to sit next to him. Heaving a long sigh, Febs rested her head on his shoulder and tangled her fingers with his. "Physically, yes. Emotionally? Not sure."

What else could she say? What she was feeling was totally irrational. She shouldn't be upset about the fact that she was in fact, not actually pregnant and about to ruin both of their lives. She was thoroughly relieved about that, but part of her was still grieving what could have been. It would still be, she was sure, when the timing was better and things were a little more sorted. Right?

"I'm being silly, I'm fine." it would pass. Eventually.

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He was afraid to open his mouth to speak, if only for fear that his words would be the wrong ones. He didn't know whether her sorrow had the same source as his - and if it wasn't, it would leave him wide open to her wrath.

"You don't have to explain yourself or your feelings," he continued, his tone in the same whisper-soft murmur. "I know how you feel. So much to digest in such little time."

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, hoping even the smallest of gestures might comfort her.

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— set by MJ! —

Febs felt incredibly lucky and just as guilty about how well he was handling this. In her own inner turmoil she hadn't yet paused to think about what he was feeling. Coming back to him sitting on the edge of the bed looking very lost in thought suggested she may not be the only one struggling with this.

Taking a deep breath, Febby brushed away a few more escaping tears, this time wholly able to blame her outrageous emotions on her monthlies. Well, maybe not wholly, but mostly. "No, we promised honesty between us," He'd already upheld that on his end, she needed to do the same.

"I think, that after that huge fight and after learning how you felt and what you've gone through, I thought that maybe, even though it was going to be incredibly difficult, perhaps having a baby wasn't going to be the end of the world." She cast a cautious glance in his direction, unsure as to whether he understood where she was coming from or if he thought her foolish or selfish. She thought herself both of those things, so she couldn't really argue, but coming from him would somehow be worse.

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He remembered their fight, which, in hindsight, had been mostly one-sided. He'd yelled at her, threatened her, and practically forced her to admit her deepest secret - even though, in the end, it had impacted him as well. The remorse that filled him in that moment was indescribable and was only made worse when she used the promise she'd made to him - the promise he'd made her make - as a reason to divulge her most personal feelings.

"I...thought the same," he said weakly, unable to look at her in the moment. They were both nearing an age where they were expected to settle down (with him being a little past due for his position and financial situation), but at least she would have had options outside of him. Was she so ready to settle down with him? Ready to trade her dreams of travel and adventure for the routine that came with a husband and child?

"At least you can be with me on your own volition - not because a child forced you to," he said grimly, as though he was trying to come up with an excuse when he very well knew there was none. "I mean - I would have loved her. Him. Them. I will love them, one day."

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— set by MJ! —