We've got a knife in our hearts and a fork in the road
We see a light in the dark but it's fading like hope
I'll fall in love with you and love, you can fall in love with me
Just so there's someone else to blame when it all falls down

August 25th, 1890 — Evening — Crouch Home, Swallowbury

What a shitty few days these last had proved to be. Ben had been in high spirits going into the World Cup match, but his mood had been marred by Art's injury even before the... event. Even now, Ben wasn't sure how to process it. He'd barely known Ethel Turnbull except in connection to her husband — did that make it better or worse? He didn't know what to say to Greg, in the immediate aftermath or days later. He didn't know what to say to Melody, who had clearly been affected by the event. He'd been trying to figure out what to say to Art about whether or not he'd make the second half of the match (Greg and Melody clearly wouldn't) when he'd gotten Art's letter.

He hadn't expected the wave of conflicted feelings that the news of the Pettigrews' loss had brought on. It wasn't as though it would have any effect on his life; he'd barely ever interacted with their existing daughter (probably to Dezzie's relief, to be honest). But in sitting down to write his response to Art, and in trying to think what one was supposed to say to a would-be father who'd lost a baby, he'd hit a wall of unexpected feeling. Maybe it was the realization that in a different future their children might have gone to Hogwarts together that suddenly made the baby they'd lost so much more real.

But they'd chosen that. Melody had found the potion and Ben had agreed to it, and it wasn't fair to compare what they'd done to Art and Desdemona's very visceral tragedy. They couldn't even really call it a loss, could they? It was a choice. One that he'd never thought to regret before now.

He'd kept to himself the past few days, both because he didn't know how to talk to Melody and because he knew he couldn't really talk about this. Art had shared it with him in confidence, and although he'd only asked Ben not to talk to Dez about it, it seemed obvious that he shouldn't share the news with anyone else, either. And how could he explain anything else he was thinking without that piece of context?

Eventually, he decided to visit her room as he regularly did in the evenings, though tonight sex couldn't be farther from his mind. "Hey," he said gently as he closed the door behind him. "You okay?"

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   Melody Crouch

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The dedicated effort Melody had put into learning quidditch came to as abrupt an end as Ethel Turnbull's life. She knew she despised the violent aspect of the game before spending the better part of the summer studying the sport, but after witnessing the results of another rogue bludger she was done. Finished. Anyone who chose to partake in a sport with such potentially gruesome results was bloody insane as far as she was concerned. Surely, Arthur would quit the sport now? He couldn't very well justify continuing to play with a wife and two children.

Surely, Ben wouldn't think of continuing to support the sport.

Melody knew he was avoiding her, just as she was quietly dodging him. It was almost as though they had suddenly reverted back to their April relationship. Back when things were tense and awkward and there was no such thing as intimacy. It wasn't quite that bad, of course, but the thought was there all the same. Those patterns would be easy to slip back into if they weren't careful, given how little they chose to interact even still.

Unsurprisingly, Ben was the one to break the silence, as was their way. Melody had just finished undressing for the day, but had yet to plait her hair. Thick curls framed her face as she turned on her vanity's seat. "I suppose?" She answered, unsure of what answer he was expecting. Melody couldn't think of Ethel without wanting to vomit, but that was a fairly obvious conclusion given her fainting spell. "Are you?"

  

Ben hadn't been expecting her return question, and looked over at her quickly. Had his face given something away? Had she heard something from someone else? He couldn't imagine how that would've happened, unless someone had seen Art's letter. Would Melody have been snooping in his room? If so, why?

"Sure," he said quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?" It caught up with him a moment after he'd spoken, though, that there was an obvious answer. They'd just seen one of their friends brutally killed mere days ago — that was what she was talking about, not the pregnancy stuff. And now he looked like an inconsiderate, unfeeling ass for the way he'd responded.

"I mean," he said, face flushing. He didn't think he'd be able to salvage this, but he had to at least try. Scrambling awkwardly for something to say, he eventually managed, "Compared to, uh, Greg and you and everyone."

  

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Melody raised a questioning brow at his response. Were innocent deaths such a regular occurrence Ben was unphased by what happened to Ethel? (Given her experience in the post office Melody wouldn't be surprised if that answer was yes.) Never before had she thought her husband to be unfeeling — if anything, he felt too much — but she was surely wondering if he could he be so heartless now.

His addition to his statement didn't alleviate her growing concern. Had something else happened and that was why Ethel wasn't the first thought to pop into his head? Dread swelled in Melody's stomach as she took in his flushed expression and obvious nerves. Had it finally happened, then? Had he had an affair? Merlin, Melody didn't want to know the answer to that question. She thought they were finally beginning to stand on steady ground and that she was meeting his needs (with fervour!). Him having an affair would shatter the fragile foundation they'd built.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and continued to look at him questionably. "Are you sure you're alright?" Melody asked again. This time, though, she didn't know if she wished to know the answer.

  

"I'm fine," Ben said uneasily. He wasn't, exactly, but he couldn't just come right out and say that. She'd want to know what had happened, which he couldn't tell her. Even if he did tell her what had happened with the Pettigrews it wouldn't exactly explain why it'd affected him this way. Ben wasn't sure he knew himself, and certainly couldn't articulate it.

He hadn't come here to talk about that, anyway. Or had he? It was hard to think now why he had come to Melody's bedroom tonight. Ben shifted his weight from foot to foot and tried to think of something else to say. After a moment of uncertainty, he moved to sit on the edge of her bed. His agitation showed in his posture; he perched like a prey animal ready to bolt at an unfamiliar noise.

"Just been thinking, I guess," he finally said vaguely.

  

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If Melody wasn't panicking before, she certainly was now. Ben looked like a deer caught unaware, wide eyed with terror at having been spotted. Was it that awful Ms. Gallivan? They hadn't interacted much over the past few weeks as far as she was aware. Had he had a quick affair in a cramped closet? .

She quietly made her way to sit besides him on the bed, her silk robe (one of her favorite treasures to have kept from her past life) untied and loose around her frame. "Thinking?" She echoed as she took his hand in hers. "What about?"

  

Ben allowed Melody to take his hand, but was almost unaware of the contact. He focused on sorting through his thoughts and trying to decide which, if any, could be shared aloud. He wasn't sure if what he was feeling could properly be called regret or whether it was something else. The death of her cousin this summer also complicated matters. Not for him— he hadn't known her — but in terms of what he could share with her. Having a close friend lose a pregnancy seemed to have brought things into sharper relief for Ben, but had losing her cousin done the opposite for Melody?

It had been Melody's decision to get the potion in the first place. She'd researched it and thought it through before she'd even told him about the baby. Still, he felt he shared responsibility for the decision. It was his behavior in Paris after they'd eloped that had led her to conclude she'd do better to abort, wasn't it? Or wasn't it possible that his walking in at that exact moment hadn't been an accident? Maybe Melody had been hoping, subconsciously or not, that he would stop her — and he hadn't.

"Do you want kids?" he asked suddenly. After a second, he amended,
"Did you want kids?"

  

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Of all the responses she was expecting from him, that wasn't it. It was such a random topic that she stared at him dumbfounded for a minute before withdrawing her hand from his. What had provoked that question? And what answer was he hoping for?

Children were terrifying for her to consider. They screamed and pulled at skirts. They were needy and constantly getting into something or other. But, Melody's heart had softened somewhat to them as she spent time with Desdemona's daughter. Was she ready for them now? No. Did she wonder what the baby she aborted would've become? Almost daily.

"I didn't used to, no," she confessed. Before him, Melody would've been most content to be a childless spinster. "The baby ..." we lost, "...changed things, I guess ... doing what I did, I regret it sometimes."

  

Ben might not have noticed when she'd taken his hand, but the moment she withdrew it felt almost like an indictment. She didn't want to talk about this. Of course she didn't. He shouldn't have even brought it up. They had a condom and that was as much discussion as the matter required for a good long while, and possibly forever. It wasn't as though anyone in his family was going to be asking eagerly about the possibility of new nieces or nephews, and obviously neither was hers.

But hearing her admit that she did sometimes regret it was... almost a relief, in a strange way. He didn't want her wracked with grief over something they couldn't change, of course, but it seemed to validate some of his own conflicted emotions. It was also something of a relief to hear that she hadn't been dreaming of children since she was herself barely grown; it meant he could put the idea that he'd destroyed all of her plans for the future by essentially pouting through their first few weeks of marriage aside once and for all. Nevertheless, he knew he had played some role in her decision, which she now sometimes regretted.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I think... I don't know," he said uncertainly. "I just wonder, I guess."

  

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Melody had known she would live with the regret of taking the potion before sourcing it. It was why she paced for hours through the Paris apartment, and how she lost track of time enough for Ben to catch her. Regardless of what she thought she wanted or feared, it was a baby they made disappear from the universe — their baby.

Wishing now she had been more put together before he came into her room, Melody drew the opened robe closed and folded her arms across her chest. "I do, too," she replied quietly, her tone full of feeling. "Do you ... do you want kids?" The condom prevented that from happening, but they could discuss removing it if that was what he was looking for. Ben might not love her — likely never would, either. Them both loving a baby could be enough, though, couldn't it?

  

Ben hesitated. He wouldn't have said so a year ago, that much he was sure of. He hadn't expected to ever get married, so family life wasn't something he'd ever envisioned for himself. He had no reason to think he'd be any good at it. He'd spent his entire life screwing things up for his brothers, and he hadn't exactly been a model husband over the course of his marriage so far. He didn't have life lessons to impart, or resources to pass down. He had no idea how to be a father... and yet...

There was something sort of appealing in the idea of having a little miniature who could go and play around with the children of his friends. Art had one, and might have another someday. Greg had one, half orphaned now. It was just what people did at this stage of life, wasn't it? It was another way to connect with the people who were close to him, through children. And there was something else, too. A connection to his own past, perhaps? A way to keep that impulsive young man alive inside him when he was otherwise buried in responsibility? He wasn't going on weekend broomstick races anymore, but if he had a child he could teach them to ride a broom.

"I guess I do," he admitted, a little surprised by this still. "But I don't know if it's for the right reasons. I don't know why people have children at all. What are the right reasons?"

  

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His questions, while valid, were ones she had no answers for. How was she to know what reasons were correct to want children? After all, hadn't she admitted not even two minutes ago that she used to never want children? Such an opinion didn't exactly make her the shining beacon of motherhood. What if they had a baby and she still came to regret the choice? What if she couldn't love it as she loved Ben?

What if she couldn't love it because she herself was unloved?

"I don't know either," she said honestly. "For some, it's just the expected course of things." It wasn't a good enough reason in her opinion. Expectations only led people to drastic measures. "All the people I know have children because it's what came next. Not because they were happy or particularly wanted them. I don't think you need any great reason."

  

That made sense, knowing as he did now how easy it was to stumble into a pregnancy. It had only taken them one night the first time around, and if they hadn't taken affirmative steps to stop it, children would have been just what came next for them, too. Ben knew that they'd made the best decision they could at the time, under the circumstances, but the circumstances had changed significantly since then. He'd gone from not being sure he'd even have a job when he returned to working in a new and much more stable capacity for Jewell. There was discussion of a raise if his next foreign contract proved as successful as the French one had been. They were settled into a house and had a staff. These were all things that had seemed like a different world when he'd lived at the club, but now they were common place; he could talk about our house or the cook without feeling like he was wearing someone else's borrowed clothes. Things with Melody had improved, too. In Paris, he'd wondered if he'd ever be able to trust her again, but now they were... comfortable, at least, and friendly. Occasionally affectionate. He couldn't claim he was in love with her yet, and maybe he never would, but they were making things work.

All in all, it didn't seem like the worst situation for a child to be born into. He still wasn't sure that deciding to have children was a responsible thing to do or whether he was just being selfish, but he could say confidently that if it happened accidentally again he wouldn't be advocating for that risky potion from Paris.

Asking Melody to undergo a pregnancy, however, was something else entirely. Especially after what had happened with her cousin, he knew he would never be able to ask that of her unless it was something she wanted, too.

Ben buried his hands against the sides of his legs. "Are you happy?" he asked, without looking at her. "Maybe not right now, I guess, with everything that's happened lately. But sometimes I think we could be."

Happy, he supposed, seemed like a good prerequisite for children.

  

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Melody paused. Happiness was one of the dangerous conversations for them, she felt. A trip wire to an explosion just waiting to be found and triggered. The past few months had left them quiet, complacent, allowing that explosion now would be devastating to their relationship. Which would only lead to greater unhappiness. A minute passed, then two, as she struggled to form a coherent answer to his question that wouldn't lead to a possible fight.

Her happiness came in waves, but was always quickly surpassed by the lingering doubts that she wasn't it for him. That he had asked for an affair. That he would be blown by the wind into another woman's arms as easily as a leaf. She knew just how discrete Ben could be, too. Shacks and closets and stolen moments on the dance floor. An affair with a doe eyed debutante wasn't exactly out of his wheelhouse.

"I think we could be, yeah," Melody agreed finally as she turned to study his profile. Such a handsome man with a strong passion for intimacy would have little issue finding someone new. And what if he wished to marry her but couldn't because of what Melody did? What then?

Unable to avoid voicing her doubts, she then asked, "do you remember when we first discussed the condom? You ... you were initially asking permission for something else...Is that still what you want?"

  

It took Ben a moment to even piece together what she was referring to. He'd initially offered because he thought she might not be interested in sex — either in general, after the close call on the pregnancy, or with him specifically since their marriage had begun with such frosty treatment from his end. He'd been pleasantly surprised by how enthusiastic she had been, though, and therefore hadn't revisited the idea recently. He certainly hadn't been thinking about it over the summer as they'd fallen into a regular rhythm, with little pockets of increased affection. Honestly, if she hadn't brought it up he might have entirely forgotten that they'd even had that conversation in the first place.

"No, no," he assured her. "That was only... I thought you might prefer that. Over having to pretend to be into it with me." He laughed, aware now how ridiculous that sounded. But a few months ago, it had seemed entirely reasonable. He hadn't been sure if the two of them were capable of getting through a long conversation without ending up sad, angry, or lonely; under those circumstances, successful sex seemed out of the question.

Ben reached out and took her hand again and flashed a reassuring smile. "I'm not worried about that now. If you're pretending, you're doing a pretty good job," he joked.

  

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Foolish as it might be, Melody felt as though she would burst into tears at his laughter. Months of stress and gauging his every interaction with other women, when all she had to do was keep enjoying time with him. Merlin. What a fool she felt like. Poor Ms. Gallivan, too. Apparently, even if that awful woman were to try with Ben, he would refuse her. She had never felt so relieved.

Rather than cry, Melody leaned up and pressed a short, sweet kiss to his lips. "Not pretending," she murmured. For all their issues, enjoyable sex had never been one of them. A bit awkward in the beginning, maybe, after they started using the condom, but they'd quickly gotten over that. Their sex life was yet another reason why she was thankful to not have married Samuel.

"So...does this mean we want to have a baby?"