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Save the Date by HPsmartone32

Format: Novella
Chapters: 8
Word Count: 34,185
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme, Contains Spoilers

Genres: Drama, Humor, Romance
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Arthur, Bill, Molly, Percy, Fleur, George, Ginny
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Bill/Fleur, Ron/Hermione, Other Pairing

First Published: 11/17/2009
Last Chapter: 12/11/2011
Last Updated: 12/11/2011

fantastic banner by .Candy at TDA!

I’m dead. No, Harry is dead. Well, not now, but soon.  I’m not going to kill him; I’m going to try to stop his murder “being the better person” and preventing myself from becoming a single mother. I just hope my brothers will respect that. Hypocrites. Honestly, we're engaged – have been for a while. Guess getting pregnant is one way to secure a wedding in the near future.

Chapter 1: Prologue: Better Believe It
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A/N: You guys are probably going to kill me for starting a new story when I so obviously don't have time, but I wrote this a long while ago and it has been teasing my from my desktop forever. So I decided to post it, at last. Maybe you won't even like it, though i do enjoy being my sassy self through Ginny's character. I have chapter one written already, so at least this has one chapter to be published. Anyway, onwards my readers! And please leave a review at the end!



Prologue: Better Believe It

It was three hours into a drilling, Friday early morning practice – during which the captain of my team, Gwenog Jones (yes, she was still playing), decided once again that it was her mission in life to work us until we passed out – when I actually thought, for the first time, that I was going to pass out. Then I realized that it wasn’t just the feeling that I was about to faint and fall from my broom, but also that the small breakfast I had had that morning consisting of a bowl of oatmeal was about to make another appearance.

I finished the complicated maneuver by passing off the quaffle then high tailed it to the side of the pitch where I proceeded to puke my guts out. Wonderful, really.

As I was retching unceremoniously onto the sidelines, I was vaguely aware of a whistle and then of Gwenog standing behind me. I finished, wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my practice kit, then leaned on my broom as I turned, humiliated, to face her.

“You okay, Weasley?” she asked, concerned. She was really nice, actually, and off the pitch she was one of my good friends.

“Yeah, fine,” I said as I cursed my throaty response. Water would be awesome right now, I really hate the feeling of sick in my mouth and my now extremely dry throat.

She raised an eyebrow at me, “You look like you are about to pass out,” she observed.

She had no clue how close she was. Everything was spinning. It made my stomach churn again, “I’m… fine…” I said as I tried to mount my broom. I was about to push off when suddenly I was forced to drop my broom and turn back and puke. Again.

“Like hell you are,” Gwenog remarked when I was done, “you are taking the rest of the day off.” She told me.

I wiped my mouth, again, and turned to face her, again. I shook my head. Then stopped because it was making everything worse. “No way.”

“Don’t make me order you off this pitch, Weasley. You’ve never missed a practice so missing the rest of this one because you just puked up –” I fought back nausea “– your innards will not be a big deal.”

“But –” I fought, even though I knew I lost.

“Take your arse, and get it off the pitch,” she ordered.

I threw her a really confusing look (it was confusing because it was half hate-filled and half grateful) and, using my broom as somewhat of a cane, made my way off the pitch.

As I entered the locker room I was in deep thought over what made me sick. I’d felt a little weird for the last few days, but never actually barfed my guts up.

After I changed into my sweats I’d worn over to practice and slipped on my beautiful engagement ring (I didn’t like to practice in it, I was afraid of losing it), I apparated back home then collapsed on the couch. I didn’t really mean to throw myself onto the couch, I just sort of fell. Then my stomach lurched and I weighed the chances of vomiting again. I decided I could hold it in. Mainly because I didn’t think I had the energy to get up and go to the nearest place I could barf. Though that potted plant wasn’t that far away…

“Ron, I told you I’d meet you at work!” I heard someone say as they walked down the stairs to our two story flat. “Seriously, I wouldn’t randomly apparate into you and Hermione’s place at eight in the morning unless I had seen one of you leave the flat first,” Harry’s voice was getting closer, but if I opened my mouth to tell him I wasn’t Ron I might have had to excuse myself to the nearest potted plant. “Especially after that one time when I heard strange noises coming from the bedr –” I opened my eyes and saw him standing in the doorway to the living room. “Gin?”

I smiled at him weakly.

“You look terrible!” he said as he hurried over to me. See how complimentive my fiancé is? He saw the look I was giving him and quickly amended, “I mean you are all pale and sweaty and,” he got closer and winkled his nose, “do you smell like vomit?”

I rolled my eyes and nodded.

“Oh, Gin,” he said, “what can I do? I’m calling Ron and telling him to cover for me today.”

I finally realized I needed to talk, “No, don’t stay home because of me. I’m fine.”

“Then let me see you stand up,” he challenged.

“I hate you.”

“I’m taking the day off. After I take you to bed,” he said. I hated it when I couldn’t help myself, but I allowed him to carry me bridal style up the stairs and to our bedroom. He lay me on the bed and then ‘accio’d me a trash can to barf in.

How romantic.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Do you need anything?”



“Water?” I asked. He smiled and left me alone. I relaxed and rested my hand on my stomach. Unbelievably, it was feeling a little better. It wasn’t churning anymore at least.

What, I thought, would make me sick? I hardly ever get sick. Last time I actually got a stomach bug was almost three years ago when I was nineteen and had gone to Scotland for a Quidditch match in the middle of some epidemic. As far as I know, no one I knew had had any sickness lately. If they had, I would kill them for giving it to me.

By lunchtime, about four hours later, I woke up feeling as good as I had felt previously that week. Meaning that I was still not feeling one hundred percent, but I was well enough to get up and do what I needed to. After brushing my teeth to get the horrible taste out of my mouth, I walked downstairs and found Harry in the kitchen making a sandwich for lunch. Then I realized I was starving.

“Can you make me one of whatever you are making?” I smiled at him.

He turned around, looking confused, “You are aware that about four hours ago you were incredibly sick to your stomach?”

I nodded as I walked over to him, “And by some miracle now I feel so much better. And hungry. Really hungry.”

Harry just studied me trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I sighed, “I’m fine now. I just feel a bit off, but if you don’t let me eat I will have to hurt you.”

He finally shrugged and smiled slightly as he pulled out two more slices of bread and magicked over cheese, ham, and lettuce. I put together my sandwich as he finished his and walked over to the bar table we had and sat on one of the stools. I finished putting together my sandwich with the materials I had then, as I magicked the materials back to the fridge, decided that I wanted mustard. I took it out on my way to sit by Harry.

As I sat down with my sandwich and mustard he raised his eyebrow at me, “I thought you didn’t like mustard,” he asked.

“I decided to give it another try,” I shrugged. The somewhat bitter and spicy taste was very appetizing.

I felt his gaze on me for a while longer then he went back to his sandwich. We ate in silence for a while, me savoring the taste of food while my stomach stayed still and acted right.

“Hermione owled to see if you still wanted her to stop by after she picked up Victoire and Dominique from their day care center, I told her probably not because you were so sick, but if you feel better already you can owl her back. She wasn’t picking them up until two,” Harry told me.

“I feel fine now, I don’t know what that was. I must have eaten something bad for dinner last night.”

“You don’t think that it was just a quick acting bug? You don’t want to get the girls sick.”

“I know,” I answered. That was what was keeping me from owling Hermione that minute. I wanted to see my nieces very badly, it’s been nearly two weeks, but the last thing I wanted to do was hand Bill and Fluer two vomiting toddlers. “Maybe I’ll just wait and see if I feel better tomorrow. Maybe we could take the girls to the park before my evening practice.”

Harry looked apologetic. Shit. He had to work tomorrow. “Sorry, Gin, I can’t take off tomorrow. Ron got this huge case in today and since I’m not there I told him I’d take the shift alone tomorrow.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll figure something out.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.

I waved him off, “Don’t worry, I’m a big girl now,” I took a bite of my sandwich, chewed, and swallowed, “Thanks for taking off to take care of me today.”

“You were about to pass out. How could I not?”

“I was not abo-” I stopped talking at the look he gave me. “Well, I’m better now and I don’t want to sit about the house all day acting sick.”

Harry smiled, “Well, I’m not going to let you run around the house screaming or anything of the like.”

“Let me?” I raised an eyebrow. No one ‘let’ me do anything.

He nodded, “You didn’t see yourself this morning. You looked half-dead. You are taking it easy today.” His amazing green eyes bored into me. Merlin, I love those eyes. If anything, I hope he gives those eyes to our children.

I froze as that thought brought back something Angelia had told me nearly three months ago. “If anything, it’s this damn morning sickness that gets me. Didn’t start until after I was pregnant for about two months or so and now I can’t make it past nine without puking. I swear one day I’m going to barf up this bloody baby!”

“Gin?” I heard Harry talking to me but I couldn’t focus, “Hello? Are you okay? Ginny!”

Then came another memory. One that occurred a little over two months ago.

I watched from the bed as he walked out of the bathroom and into our conjoined bedroom. He looked so incredibly sexy. The only light in the room, a small lamp on his bedside table, made him with  his messy black hair, half down with water dripping into his face, half sticking up already dried, look like a scene from a movie . He stood in the doorway and shook his head, water droplets flew everywhere.

Sweet Merlin was the boy trying to torture me? He walked over to the dresser and slipped on boxers before turning and walking towards the bed. As he crawled in and leaned in to kiss me goodnight, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I kissed him back passionately and it seemed that at first he was surprised. I couldn’t see why, he was obviously trying to turn me on with his little show three seconds before. It’s not my fault he’s the best looking man on the planet.

Then he caught on and deepened the kiss. His tongue touched my lips and I parted them immediately. I needed to be closer to him.
Now. I put one hand on his chest and pushed lightly while using the other to hold me up as I moved on top of him. He lowered himself slowly onto his back and moved his hands down my sides, to my hips. He was driving me crazy.

I felt his hands, warm, lift up my large t-shirt I was used to sleeping in and slide back up my hips, stomach. I broke our kissed and kissed his jaw, chin, neck. I heard him sigh contently then a second later, my back was on the bed and he was on top. Not that I cared.

Hell, the only thing I was really aware of at the moment was the feel of his bare chest. The only thing beside extreme passion that I was feeling was annoyance at the fact that my shirt was making it impossible for me to feel his chest on mine.

As if he read my mind he pulled it over my head and kissed me again. God, I loved this man.

But when it was over and I was laying next to him, our breathing labored, his arm holding me to him, the last thing on my mind was the fact that for the first time we hadn’t thought to use protection.

I blinked and saw Harry’s face come into focus. The frightened look on his face, I’m sure, matched the one on mine. It can’t be. I can’t be. There’s no way. My hand flew to my stomach again.

“Are you going to be sick again?” Harry asked standing up ready to help me to the sink.

I shook my head. Not today, at least.

My mum once told me, well she told Fleur and I was spying from the stairs, that a woman can feel when she’s pregnant before she even takes the test. And for some reason, at this moment, I had a very strong feeling that I was pregnant. I guess this is the first thing I’ll ever be able to chalk up to mother’s intuition.

I looked at my fiancé, who still looked terrified and decided that he needed to know. I also decided that, because it was his job to remember to use that damn contraceptive charm (though I hadn’t been in the mood to stop and take the time, either…), I was going to be blunt.

“Tell me, would you like to be called ‘Papa’ or will the traditional ‘Daddy’ suffice?” I said levelly.

He looked at me wide-eyed while the news sunk in then Harry Potter, the man who defeated Voldemort, the savior of the free magical world, fainted.

As I looked down at him, I thought wildly that if I didn’t know from experience that the man had balls I would have never believed it.


A/N: Tell me what you think, pleasee. I'll love you forever! Should I even continue this or just stick to my other two... haha. (Oh, and note that this is short merely because its the prologue. Real chapters will be longer. :]) The review box is calling your name...
over and outt.

Chapter 2: Chapter One: How Does This Work?
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WONDERFUL chapter image by Midnight_Witch at tda.
She's awesome.

Chapter One: How Does This Work?

I sighed as I stared down at the unconscious bump in the floor that was my fiancé. Everyone always writes in gushy muggle novels and even wizarding ones about how the girlfriend/fiancée/wife tells the boyfriend/fiancé/husband that she’s pregnant and then he faints. It’s like the textbook response. “I’m pregnant.” BAM! boyfriend/fiancé/husband hits the floor.

However, they don’t tell you how inconvenient it is. In the books girlfriend/fiancée/wife is all ‘aww, it’s so sweet’ but in real life I’m sitting here like ‘oh, Merlin.’ Because, frankly, there are a whole host of things that would be better to do than stare down at my unconscious fiancé. Like send him away to get a pregnancy test, maybe?

Now, referring back to my novels, I seem to remember that the girlfriend/fiancée/wife always gently shakes awake the boyfriend/fiancé/husband. I don’t think that this is the appropriate form of action, though. Not fun at all. And if I’m going to have to deal with a total of nine months of morning sickness, back pain, swollen feet, etc, and then give birth to this baby (which I hear from Fleur and is not pleasant to say the least…) then I’m at least going to have some fun waking Harry up.

My two options right now, as I finger Harry’s wand threateningly, are the traditional bat bogey or just a simple aguamenti. After a few seconds spent in deep thought, I decide that I’ll use the latter because, well, I do love him and waking up with huge bats flying out of your nose isn’t very pleasant at all. Or so Ron has told me.

I flick the wand muttering the incantation and after a few seconds of being doused, Harry starts sputtering and begins to sit up. I stop the water and watch with a bemused expression as he sits up, wipes his face with his hand, then pushes his sopping hair out of his eyes. He’s so cute when he’s all wet. I seem to remember that that’s exactly what I was thinking the night this whole pregnancy thing started…

He looks at me with those huge, green eyes and appears to be thinking about whether or not I was kidding. I reached a hand out and helped him to his feet. Neither of us spoke as we just stared at each other.

Finally Harry said quite simply, “I’m going to be murdered.”

I scowled, “No, you aren’t. We’re engaged.”

“But not married.”

“I’m sure they must have figured that we… you know.”

“I think they blatantly ignore that. They like to think that you are still their virtuous little sister.” 

“I haven’t been ‘virtuous’ since I was thirteen,” I rolled my eyes.

Harry’s eyes widen.

“What?” I ask, momentarily confused.

“You were thirteen!

“What are you… oh!” I laugh, “No, no, no. That’s how old I was when Fred and George finally corrupted me. You know you were my first.”

He seems to relax, but only a little bit. “You know they are still going to attempt to murder me.” Eh, he’s probably right. It’s really annoying though. I guess that’s what you get when you have six older brothers (yes, six, Fred will probably come back from the dead to kill Harry, too) and two parents who grew up in like the 1800’s.

He looks at me as if he’s expecting me to come up with a solution that will save his neck. I can’t think of any. And I’m not even 100% sure I’m pregnant. “Look,” I say, “I’m not even sure I’m pregnant.”

“Well, being sure would probably be a good idea,” Harry says slowly.

“Yeah.” I look at him pointedly.

“What?” he asks.

I roll my eyes, “So go get me a test!”

He stares at me as if I’ve just asked him to give up his firstborn. Ha. Good example. “Me?”

“Well are you going to send your possibly pregnant fiancée who was violently sick this morning out to get one?” Maybe this pregnancy thing won’t be so bad…

“No, I guess not,” he mutters. “But I can’t exactly go to the nearest store and pick one up. If someone recognizes me as I’m buying a pregnancy test they’ll probably alert the media.”

Damn it. Sometimes, being engaged to the savior of the wizarding world is a bitch. So Harry can’t go buy a test, I can’t go buy a test for much the same reason… hmm…

“Well you’ll just have to buy one as someone else,” I conclude.

He looks at me as he tries to put it together, “Wait. You want me to use the potion to buy a pregnancy test?”

“Do you see any other way?” I ask.

We walk into the cupboard and take out a flask of Polyjuice potion that may or may not have been acquired legally. I sprinkle some random muggle’s hair in it and watch as it turns a dark blue. Interesting.

Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I came up with this idea a while ago; as in right after the war ended when we couldn’t go anywhere without being gawked at. Hermione would make the potion and we’d store it up for when we really didn’t want to deal with all the questions and stares. Then, since my job required me to travel, whenever I was in a different country I would go out into the muggle world and accio some random peoples hair. Then, back in England, we could walk around, go out to lunch, go shopping, etc. as people that no one knew. It was really quite ingenious. Harry and I hadn’t really used our stash much recently but Harry was right, if someone caught him buying a pregnancy test both of our lives would be in danger. His from my oh-so-wonderful family and mine from all Harry’s fangirls.

Who, by the way, really bugged me; apparently saving the wizarding world made Harry the number-one bachelor even if he wasn’t a bachelor.  Harry loves me and me alone so those bitches just need to back off. It was the worst after the news that we were engaged spread about a year and a half ago. Death threats got really annoying, and besides, like any of them could take me, anyway. Hmph.

Harry swallowed the potion and I watched as he turned into a man who looked like he was from Ireland. His black hair turned reddish-brown, freckles erupted across his face and arms, and he developed a beer belly. I smirked as he examined himself with disgust, “Can’t you pick people a little more fit, Gin. I feel disgusting.”

“Sorry, I guess its hard to steal peoples DNA when they run the opposite direction,” I crossed my arms.

He sighed, “I’m going to go put on a bigger shirt and then I’ll go.” Then he looked confused, “Where do you get a pregnancy test anyway?” he asked.

“Well I guess at the store. Just go and ask around.” I frowned.

“Great,” he muttered.

I sat on the couch anxiously waiting for Harry to come back. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Harry had been gone only forty-eight minutes and twenty-two seconds (not that I was counting) and I had run out of things to do to busy myself. I’d written to Hermione and told her that I felt better and was sure that it wasn’t contagious but would drop by at around dinnertime. She wrote back and told me that that was fine and that she was watching Dominique and Victoire until eight to give Bill and Fleur a night alone. That had taken a total of fifteen minutes. Then I had cleaned the kitchen the muggle way, organized the fridge, and tried to read the latest Witch Weekly. But now I was on the couch about to go crazy. How long did it take to buy a pregnancy test?

I put my hand on my belly and stared at it. It didn’t look bigger. How many weeks until you started to show? I wasn’t sure. The conception incident was about eight weeks ago.

Could I handle a baby? I’d have to quit Quidditch. But I’d been playing for almost six years. Maybe it was time to try out in a different career, to retire. Would Harry be upset that we were having a baby now? I mean, it certainly wasn’t planned. We hadn’t even talked about having kids, well, not really. I mean we’d mentioned it a few times when Teddy stays with us or when we see our nieces or nephew, but we never really discussed it.

And this apartment, even though it was pretty roomy, only had two bedrooms. One was mine and Harry’s and one was for Teddy. If we had another baby, we’d probably move into an actual house. Everything would be really complicated. We’d have to set a date for the wedding: a task that hadn’t been achieved in nearly eighteen months what with my schedule and Harry and Ron heading the auror department and revolutionizing the Ministry.

And we’d have to find a way to tell my family.

I hear the fire start up again and jump to my feet. This results in a slight dizzy spell but I watch as the fire turns green and Harry, now turning back into himself, steps out with two bags.

“Finally!” I exclaim rushing forward to grab the bags. One is from the potions store and one is from a muggle store. He bought me a muggle pregnancy test, too?

“I bought you a muggle one and a wizarding one so that we could be sure,” I told me once he was completely himself. I look the tests out of the bags and stared at them.

This was going to be it; it would be absolutely final after I took them. I stood still as the realization hit me. I didn’t know that I was crying until Harry asked me what was wrong.

I shook my head and looked up at him, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. I hated crying, it made me feel weak and vulnerable. But what if Harry didn’t want to have a baby? What if we were ready? What if I was a bad mother? What if Harry hated me for getting pregnant now? No, he wouldn’t, its ridiculous for me to even think that… right?

“Ginny, are you okay? Do you feel sick again?” He looks worried as he grabs the underside of my arms to help steady me. I shake my head again. “Then what is it?”

I look into his eyes and when I find my voice say, “Are you mad at me?”

He looks really confused, “What? No. Why would I be mad, Ginny?” he asks softly.

“Be-because I might be pregnant,” I stutter.

“Ginny,” he says firmly, “there is no way I’d be mad at you for being pregnant! That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But we didn’t plan this; we hadn’t even really talked about it!”

He looks at me like I’m crazy, “And that makes you think that I’d be mad? Gin, none of that matters. If you are pregnant now or if it’s not until three years from now, I’ll never be mad at you. I love you and I will love whatever if in your uterus.” He says as he pulls me into a huge hug. “Unless it’s not mine.” He adds playfully. I hit him on the shoulder then hug him back.

He pulls me away from him way too soon, “Now, go see if we are having a baby,” he smiles.

I look back at the boxes, “How do you work these things anyway?”

He takes the muggle one from me and turns it over, “Hmm,” he says. Then his eyes widen.

“What?” I ask.

His face turns to one of disgust, “It says you have to pee on this stick…” he hands it back to me as if it’s contaminated.

“That’s not funny, how does it really work?” I ask him.

“See for yourself,” he says and trades boxes with me. I look at the back of it and my eyes widen; he was serious. I really have to pee on a plastic stick to find out if I’m pregnant or not. Are you sodding kidding me?

“Ugh. What’s that one say I have to do? Blow my nose on a piece of fabric?”

Harry laughs, “No, this one is practically the same as the other one only you have to pee into this cup-like thing…” he says. He looks revolted. I’m sure I do, too. How am I supposed to come up with that much pee? What do I look like, a fountain? “Well,” Harry says as he hands the wizard one back to me, “have fun.”

I scowl at him, take the two boxes, and walk into the nearest bathroom figuring it was a good thing that I hadn’t peed since I’d gotten sick.

The whole thing was awkward and disgusting. I hope that I never have to pee on or in anything except for a proper toliet ever again; I don’t think Harry will be too upset when I tell him that we are never going camping.

I put both of the tests on the rim of the bathrtub and wash my hands before opening the door. Harry is sitting on the couch in the other room looking extremely anxious. It’s incredibly adorable. His legs are bouncing and he’s chewing on his bottom lip. If I wasn’t so weak and tired and possibly pregnant, I’d run over there and snog him senseless right now.

He hears me walking over and he jumps up, “Well?!” he asks.

“Hold your hippogriffs we have to wait ten minutes,” I tell him.

He sighs loudly and aggitatedly and throws himself back onto the couch. I walk around him and sit beside him.

And we sit there. And sit there. Not talking, both staring straight ahead watching the grandfather clock as it ticks off the seconds and minutes with painstaking slowness. I don’t know why I’m so anxious. I’m about ninety percent sure that I’m pregnant. I guess its just the reality that this test confirms it. Whatever this says is probably right.

What if it says no?

Merlin, will I feel like a wanker. What will I say, ‘Ha, really had you going for a while there, Harry!’ That doesn’t really sound like a good idea.

If I’m not pregnant what will we do? I mean now that this idea is so fresh, will we want to try for a baby? Do I want a baby right now? Will I be relieved?

I feel guilty for even thinking of feeling relieved. Because if I am pregnant then does the possiblilty of relief at not being preganant make me not want this baby? Do I want this baby? Can I handle it?

My thoughts go in circles. Again.

“Has it been ten minutes yet?” Harry finally breaks the silence.

No, it’s been nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Close enough. “Yes.”

We look at eachother. “Do you want to go check?” he asks.

“You can, if you want,” I swallow.

“I don’t care. You can go look.”

“No, really, you go.” I insist.

We exchange another look and break out in smiles, “Okay, both of us then?” Harry suggests.

I nod. We stand up and he takes my hand as we walk to the bathroom. I squeeze it as we walk in. When we get to the rim of the toliet I pull him around so that neither of us can see the results, “Okay, the muggle one will just say ‘pregnant’ or ‘not pregnant’ but the wizard one will be black for no and clear for yes.” I explain. Harry nods once.

“Ready?” I don’t mean to whisper.

He nods again.

“On three then?”

Another nod.

I gulp, “One, two…”


He turns and I look around him. We lean over the rim to see the results and stare at a crystal clear potion and in the little circle on the muggle one is the bold word ‘pregnant.’

Even though I was expecting it, I’m still in shock as Harry gives me a faint, not-so-reassuring smile and pulls me into a hug.


The rest of the day was spent discussing what to do; and, because we had no clue what do to, no conclusion was met other than to keep our mouths shut – for Harry’s sake. Finally, at six, Harry and I apparate over to Hermione and Ron’s house. I was so relieved to get out of the apartment and have someone else to talk to other than Harry (not that I don’t love him dearly and with all of my heart…), that I nearly ran into to house without knocking.

Which was only okay because there were two toddlers in the house and therefore my brother and best friend would not be doing anything that I wouldn’t want to walk in on. Again. Because believe me, one time is more than enough, and after the second time I was scarred for life. But, really, the second time was in the bathroom at the Burrow. Ron and Hermione must be sex addicts or something. It’s a wonder she’s not pregnant… not that it would matter much if she were, anyway. One, they’re married so our parents wouldn’t give them any disappointed looks (for Merlin’s sake, it’s the twenty-first century!), and two, our brothers would just congraduate Ron on ‘getting some’ rather than kill his spouse. Being the only girl from a family of guys is so unfair sometimes.

“Hermione? Victiore? Dominique? Your real favorite aunt is here!” I call as soon as I’m through the door.

“You are not their favorite aunt!” Hermione calls back from the kitchen.

“We’re in the kitchen!” Victiore yells to inform me as I enter the kitchen.

“Thank you, Victiore,” I say, smiling. She turns around in her chair and jumps off of it, her long white-blonde hair streaming behind her as she runs over and fastens her five-year-old arms around my waist. I bend over and pick her up, “My, you’re getting so big!” I tell her.

“That’s what Maman says,” she tells me, staring at me with her huge pale-blue eyes. “but Daddy says that me and ‘Nique are still his baby girls. But I say that I’m a big girl now, but not big enough to walk all the time.”

“Is that right?” I ask her, laughing at her ranting. Dominique has turned in her high chair away from Hermione who was trying to persuade her to eat her applesauce.

“A’Dinny!” she screeches reaching out her hands for me to take her.

“Here, ‘Toire, go to Uncle Harry,” I tell her and pass the enthusiactic girl to my husband who spins her in a tight circle, causing her to giggle loudly.

“I am so their favorite aunt,” I tell Hermione as I pull up a chair and sit down beside her. Dominique is throwing a fit to get out, reaching her arms out to me and kicking her legs against her seat.

“Shut up,” Hermione sighs as she takes the appleauce off the tray so that I can calm Dominique.

“Don’t get food in your pretty hair, love,” I tell her, pulling her sauce-covered hands away from her wild strawberry-blonde hair.

“Ou’” she cries. Oh, it breaks my heart when she cries; Dominique’s eyes are blue, too, but a deeper blue than Victoire’s. Both of the girls are so beautiful that its nearly heart-wrenching to see them upset. As one could imagine, they have Bill completely wrapped around their tiny fingers. As I stand up and lift Dominique out of her high chair, I see Harry sitting on the floor in the adjioned living room playing patty-cake with Victiore. He looks so cute, sitting there cross-legged with the five year old.

Dominique grabs at my shirt and I moan, “Not all over my shirt, ‘Nique!” Almost two years old and she still likes to grab at things. I take her over to the sink and sit her on the counter next to Hermione, who hands me a wet towel. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad I fed them early,” Hermione smiles at me. “I knew as soon as you got here they’d be too distracted to eat.”

“It’s because I’m their favorite aunt,” I tell her.

“You are not!” she says, taking Dominique from me. I make a face at her behind Hermione’s back and she starts to giggle. “See, she’s laughing when I’m holding her.” Hermione says.

I open my mouth to correct her but decide to let her have this one. She and Ron do see them more than I do – something I need to work on.

Hermione and I walk into the room and she sets Dominique down. She toddles over to play with her sister and uncle as we sit down. “Where’s Ron?” I ask.

“Still at work,” Hermione shrugged as Harry and I exchange guilty looks. “Are you feeling that much better already?” she turns to me.

“Erm, yeah,” I struggle. “I think it was just something I ate for breakfast, but Harry wanted to make sure I didn’t need to go to see a healer or anything”

“So overprotective, they are,” Hermione muttered to me so Harry wouldn’t hear.

I laugh, “Too true.”

“I feel bad for any children we might have, eh?” she laughs quietly. “Ron already pulls a freaker when Dominique or Victiore scrape a knee or bump their head.”

I try to act nonchalant, but I’m fairly certain I’m failing. I turn my attention back to Harry, who is tickling both girls – one with each hand. I feel a smile spread across my face as the giggles fill the room.

“He will be a good dad, though,” Hermione laughs, watching Harry laughing at the girls, his glasses threatening to fall off of his nose.

“I think so, too.”


I opened one eye and gazed tiredly at Harry as he tried to sneak out of bed without waking me, “Damnit.” He curses. “Sorry, Gin. Go back to sleep, it’s only six.”

“It’s six?” I groan as I roll over and rub at my eyes. “Practice is at seven.”

“You’re still going to practice?” I glance over at Harry and squint as he turns on the lamp on the bedside table.

“Er – yeah, why wouldn’t I?” I sat up and ran a hand through my bedhead.

“You’re preggers,” Harry states the obvious.

“Yeah, I know that,” I stare up at him and he looks at me with a puzzled expression that I find adorable. I reach over and turn on my bedside lamp before crawling over and getting on my knees to kiss him good morning.

“Are you sure you should be practicing while you’re pregnant?” he says as I try to kiss him. Really romantic bloke, he is.

I sigh and sit back down, “I have been for the last two months; I don’t know why I should stop now,” I furrowed my brows.

“You didn’t know you were pregnant then, Ginny! What if it hurts the baby? A bludger to the stomach wouldn’t be good, you know,” he starts and I roll my eyes.

“When have I ever taken a bludger to the stomach, Harry,” I step around him and get out of bed. He follows me and leans against the outside of the bathroom doorframe.

“I don’t think you should practice,” he says.

I turn on him, “What? Do you want me to quit the team? Harry, I just started making the big money – I’m not going to quit now!”

“Ginny, you’re  pregnant. Do you think they’ll let you play when you’re huge?”

I blink at him. Excuse me? When I’m huge? “Oh, well, I don’t know, Harry. Maybe I won’t be able to fit through the bloody door by then and I’l have to resign because of that!” I say angrily and shut the door in his face.

When I’m huge. Yeah.

“Ginny, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” Harry says, frustrated, as he opens the door and lets himself into the large bathroom.

“What did you mean, then?” I ask him. Only it comes out more like “Wha tu-tu mean, hen?” due to the fact that I’m brushing my teeth.

He runs his hand through his hair – a frustratingly cute habit of his – and sighs, “I just don’t think that you’ve thought this through, okay? I don’t think that you understand what this means.”

I spit and rinse my mouth out before talking, “I don’t understand what this means?” I ask incredously. “I’m carrying a small human in my uterus, Harry. I think I understand.”

“Then you don’t get what it means for our life!” he grabs my shoulders and turns me to face him. “Ginny, having this baby starts now, not when it’s born. You have to do all sort of stuff now – think about it!” he looks into my eyes and I sigh.

Why does he think that I’m not thinking about it? This is beginning to frustrate me. Of course I understand that being pregnant means that things change now! I mean, it’s not like I expected life to go about as normal for the next seven months, right?

First of all, Harry is going to be murdered when everyone finds out that I’m pregnant. So, really, he should be glad that I’m going about as usual; the sooner anyone suspects that I’m acting differently, they’ll most likely figure it out. So it’s really better that I keep playing, right? I mean, I understand that I won’t be able to when I’m farther along – like seven months or something – but now? Angelina and Fluer didn’t start showing for a while – three or four months, for sure. I can play until then, right? It won’t hurt to play as long as I don’t fall… or get hit… or cobbed… or… oh, Merlin.

Quidditch is a contact sport.

In the air.

Harry must have sensed the beginning of my reconginition because he smiled, “There we go.”

“Shut up,” I snap at him. “I’ll just see a healer and see what I can do.”

He lets me go and nods, “Okay.”

“But I’m practicing today; one more day won’t kill me. I’ll see the healer after.”

He looks like he wants to disagree, but I send him a look and he gives in.

This is going to be more complicated than I thought.


A/N: Hey guys! Thanks so much for the support for this story! I'm so glad that you guys like it. I like writing in Ginny's point of view becuase i feel like she's more sarcastic and cynical and funny and such than Dominique is in my other pregnancy story. And just so you know, I don't have some weird pregnancy fetish - I just had a bunch of conflicts that pregnancy could cause in situations like this and  My Sister's Fiancé and ideas are hard to ignore, haha.
Als, props to the validating staff! I was able to update all of my stories before the close! Yay! Haha, so Happy Christmas / whatever you celebrate guys! Have a great holiday season! (And make mine greater by reviewing!! Haha.)
over and outt.

Chapter 3: Chapter Two: Showers
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fantastic chapter image by Midnight_Witch at tda. LOVE HER.

Chapter Two: Showers

“What brings you here today, Ginny?” Healer Corner looked at me as he walked in holding my chart. Yes, fucking Michael Corner my first boyfriend and subsequently my first ex-boyfriend who then shacked up with Harry’s first girlfriend… yes, this is how my life works. Lovely, I know.

I sigh and try not to snap at him, “What do you think brings me to a maternity healer, Michael?”

“You were always a fiesty one, Ginny,” he chuckled.

I will not hex him, I will not hex him…
I put my best fake smile on, “Yeah… anyway, I need to know what I can and can’t do, when I’m due, what to do…” I trailed off as he just looked at me. I sighed again, trying to remain calm, “Actually, is there anyone else that could talk to me?”

“Er – I don’t see why that would be necessary,” he stuttered looking away from me for the first time in a few minutes. I thanked Merlin that I was just in sweats, a baggy t-shirt, wet hair, and no make-up after practice.

“I would be more comfortable is all,” I gave him the smile that I used to get him to fancy me in the first place.

“Er – fine, I’ll see if Healer O’Neill is available but –”

“Thanks,” I cut him off. He frowned at me, but left the room. I laid back on the cold bed and closed my eyes. This whole situation was giving me a headache… and I felt like I was going to puke.

Practice had been a bit off today – and by that I mean that I’d been yelled at three times for paying more attention to the bulgers than to the formations I was supposed to be executing. A few more practices like that and I wouldn’t have to take myself off the team…

I sighed frustratedly, why did this have to happen now? Just when my career was really beginning to lift off? I put my arm over my eyes to shield them from the white light of the hospital room as my stomach lurched and my head throbbed at the exact same time. Bloody-freaking-perfect. In about three seconds I was going to have to find something to retch into…

Three seconds over – I rushed to the trashcan by the door just as I hear a faint knock and the door opens.

Fantastic. This day is simply phenominal.

I finish puking my guts (or, more realistically, my breakfast) into the bin and find that the lady who walked in (in white trainers, from what I saw down here) was handing me a cool cloth.

“Thanks,” I mutter as I accept it and wipe my mouth first, then turn it over to run across my sweaty forehead. I wave my wand and vanish the sick from the bin and stand up. “Sorry about that.” I croak.

She chuckles lightly, “It’s no problem, dear.” She says as she procures a cup of water and hands it to me. I gulp it down thirstly – I’ve already scarred this woman, why stop now?

When I finish the water, I take a look at her and realize that shes older – maybe a few years older than Charlie – and has a kindly look about her. I already feel ten times more comfortable than I had with Michael.

“Why don’t you sit down, you still look a little weak,” she points to the small cot I had been laying on and I nod and sit down. “I’m Healer O’Neill.” She offers her hand. I take it, “Ginny.”

“So, I see this is your first visit to the Maternity Ward,” she comments looking at my chart.


“About how far along would you guess you are, if you can pinpoint such a thing,” she adds, winking.

I laugh, “Two and a half months, I think,” I tell her. “I know that was one of the only times we forgot the charm, at least.” I color a bit.

She grins, “Heat of the moment?”

“Something like that,” I tell her, grinning and blushing. For some reason it’s not awkward talking about my sex life with this lady. Maybe it’s because she hasn’t brought up the fact that I’m “shagging the savior of the wizarding world” and “oh merlin, how is it?”

Stupid fan girls. I hate them.

“So, I’m guessing you would like the normal work up and run down, then?” she sets my chart down on the table.

“Er – sure,” I say uncertainly.

She laughs, “That just means that I need to do some blood work to make sure everything is going alright, that I’ll give you some potions to help take the edge off of the sickness and make sure that you and your baby are getting the nutrients you need, and then I’ll tell you the precautions you ought to be taking.”

“That sounds perfect.”

An hour and a half later, burdened with three bottles of potions, six pamphlets on “What To Do When You’re Due!” and the knowledge that my Quidditch career was over, I slumped back to my flat.

Yes, I was a bit ticked that I could no longer play quidditch (okay, so a little more than a bit…) but I was also peeved that Harry was right. And that Harry could just go on living his life the way he wanted whilst I lugged this kid around for seven more months. Women sure did get the shit end of the stick, if I do say so myself.

Walking out of the fireplace I dumped my bag from the hospital on the kitchen table and went to get something to eat. Healer O’Neill had given me a dose of the potion to help morning sickness and with that gone I was starving.

I was warming up some left over apple tart when I glanced over and saw the offending object that everyone besides me calls the Weasley Family Calender (I prefer ‘That-Thing-That-Reminds-You-Of-Family-Funtions-You’d-Rather-Not-Attend’ or making clever plays on ‘WFC’ because the former tends to get pretty long). However, its name is the last thing on my mind as I stare at the bane of my existance seeing that today, Saturday, has the words Angelina’s Surprise Girl-Only Baby Shower! 6 pm, The Burrow. Followed by George’s clumsily written George’s Blokes-Only Oh-Fucking-Merlin-You’re-Gonna-Have-A-Kid! Shower (With the Appropriate Amount of Alcohol). 6 pm, Leaky Couldron.

This is how the calender works: if one smaller family (i.e. me and Harry, Hermione and Ron, Bill and Fluer and the kids, etc) were to write something on their own calender with their wand, it will write itself on every calender specified by the author and ring every minute or so until someone in each small family responds to the ‘invitation.’

Percy’s lovely wife Audrey had come up with the idea after realizing that our huge family made it difficult for her little OCD organization problem. Brilliant, she was (note: sarcasm).

Albeit, while planning events was now a lot easier and quicker than sending owls to everyone in the family, it was also pretty damn difficult to get away with ‘forgetting’ things.

Ideal for weddings and due dates and baby showers, not only was this calender the most ideal way to ‘save the date,’ it also reminded each person the of the event the day of with some spell that made you look at the calender or something – I hadn’t paid much attention when she was explaining it years back.

Either way, I knew I did not want to go to this baby shower while Harry was out partying with the guys. Lucky bloke. Though…yes, Angelina was one of my good friends alongside the fact that she was my sister-in-law. And yes, I may have been avoiding a majority of my family recently due to the fact that I’ve been so busy with quidditch and Teddy (keeping a primary schoolaged kid was hard work!). And okay, maybe I had sworn under threat of severe physical punishment by my mother, but I really did not want to go to this baby shower. That should count for something, right?

My food was finally warm so I grabbed the plate and walked into the living room to watch some quidditch on the telly (the wizarding world had finally caught on to the whole in-home entertainment thing – thank Merlin wizarding televisions didn’t run on elecktrity, though; that stuff was unreliable).

I propped up my feet on the coffee table and waved my wand to turn on the telly. The screen came up and I saw that Puddlemere United was playing(/thrashing) the Cannons. Currently, they had the camera on good ol’ Oliver Wood. I grinned as I recalled all of the whining Fred and George used to do about his practices as I happily ate my food.

Though I didn’t remember falling asleep, I blinked my eyes opened when I heard a rustling of papers beside me on the couch. I saw that the telly was off and turned my head to the left and saw Angelina shifting through what looked like…shit.

“They don’t tell you jackshit in these pamphlets about what pregnancy is really like,” she said in an offhanded tone and I groaned.

“Why are you going through my stuff, you nosy bint?”

She chuckles and leans over her fat, seven-month-pregnant stomach to set the pamplets on the coffee table, “I came over to drag you to my baby shower because I knew you were going to try to skip out but I smelled that apple tart in the kitchen and went to help myself when I saw these.”

“Wasn’t that supposed to be a surprise baby shower?”

“I live with George, Gin. He’s been planning is bloke thing forever. Loudly.”

I snort.

“So I told him to tell the family that you were distracting me and would find a way to bring me over at six,” Angelina explains.

“I hate you.”

“I’m not going to deal with this shower without you. You’re the only one that can reel your mum in.”

I groan again, “You’re fat.”

“You will be soon,” Angelina retorts, narrowing her eyes.

“Merlin,” I sit up. “You can’t tell anyone or I’ll bat bogey hex you to the next century, Angelina Weasley, and I don’t can’t if you’re pregnant.”

“So thoughtful.”

“So serious.”

“Calm down,” she laughs. “I’m not going to reveal your secret.” she lays her head back on the couch, her long braided hair spilling over the back. “Just be glad you won’t be fat during the fucking hottest months of the year,” she pats her stomach. “At least I’m done carrying this kid early September – when are you due?”

I sigh, still not completely convinced I’ve spared my husbands life for now, “January.”

“You’ve still got a nice long stretch then… have fun,” she snickers.

“Be nice or I’m not going to your baby shower,” I huff.

“You have to; your mum knows that I’m with you and she’ll kill you if I’m late to my own shower,” she grins.

“You are an evil, evil woman,” I growl.

“Or I can go alone and just lament to Molly over the fact that the woman that’s pregnant with her other grandchild couldn’t be here,” she shrugs and struggles to stand up.

I sit up, “You wouldn’t.”

She grins, “True, I wouldn’t. But you are coming and we do need to get going so up and at’em, preggers.”


I get up and take my dishes to the kitchen to dump them in the sink. I turn and take a look at Angelina again before mentally cursing, “Why are you all dressed up?” I moan.

“Because you know that Audrey will be there taking thousands of pictures with that goddamned camera.”

A low growl escapes, “You’re waiting while I change.” I she follows me up the stairs into my bedroom.

“Are they making you quit quidditch, too?” she asks me as she lounges on my unmade bed.

“Yes,” I call dismally from the depth of my closet. “They said the sooner the better, too.” I grab a nice loose blue shirt and a pair of nice jeans and walk out of the closet. “When did you stop playing?”

“When I was about three months in,” she tells me. “Which was about two weeks after I realized I was pregnant.”

“I’m about two and a half now,” I tell her as I strip off my t-shirt. She nods sadly, “It was so hard to stop playing – probably one of the hardest things of this pregnancy.”

“You’re so supportive.”

She chuckles, “Just telling it how it is, Gin.”

I shrug on my shirt, “Yeah, well you were also married when you were knocked up so…”

Angelina gasps and then starts laughing, “Oh Merlin, I forgot that you and Harry weren’t even married!”

I turn to face her, “We’ve been engaged for a year an a half and living together for three years!”

“I’m sure that your mum and brothers will accept that, too, don’t you worry,” she says, still laughing.

I scowl as I pull on my jeans and button them noticing how they are a tad tighter than they were previously, “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Please let me be there when you tell them that you’re pregnant,” Angelina says, her voice full of amusement.

“You better hope that you’re not six feet under when I tell them that I’m pregnant,” I mutter and grab her arm and turn on the spot.

“You could have warned me,” Angelina glares at me from the ground in front of the Burrow.

“Oops,” I shrug, trying to contain my grin.

“If this child turns out mental, I’m blaming you,” she says as I help her up and dusts herself off.

“Oh, please. It’s George’s kid, of course it’s going to be mental,” I roll my eyes as we make our way to the front door.

“Like you and Harry’s kid will turn out any more sane,” she says too loudly for my liking as we approach the door.

 “Whenever that may happen,” I say pointedly.

She grins and shrugs as I glare at her. Why do I like her?

“Why are we here again, Ginny?” Angelina asks offhandedly.

I open my mouth to tell her (impolitely and with a few curse words) that she dragged me to her baby shower when i remember that I’m supposed to be taking her here indiscretely. I scowl and sigh, “I have to get something from Mum real fast.” I say loudly.

“Maternity clothes?” Angelina whispers, forcing me to punch her in the arm before throwing open the door.

“Mum! Angelina and I are here,” I yell into the seemingly empty house.

“I’m in the kitchen, dears,” I hear my mom call back.

I lead Angelina into the magically expanded kitchen. As soon as she walks into the decorated kitchen beside me everyone calls, “Surprise!”

“What’s this?!” Angelina gasps, perfectly ‘surprised.’ I take a minute to admire her acting skills. The only other girl in the family that could act that well was myself, the worst obviously being Hermione. Seroiusly, that girl couldn’t act to save her life.

“It’s a baby shower – can’t you read,” I tell her pointing to the It’s a Boy! banner that hung from wall to wall over the kitchen.

“Ginny, be nice,” Mum chastises me. All the Girls (other than me, obviously) have now gathered around Angelina. I didn’t really understand the point of baby showers, everyone congradulating Angelina and whatnot. They’ve known she was preggers for almost four months now, have all told her congradulations before, so why have a party for it?

Oh, because my family is nutters about parties. Right.

I make my way over to the kitchen table that is half filled with food and drinks, half with gifts. I reach for a glass of firewhiskey a second before I realize that I can no longer have alcohol.

“Okay, now that everyone is here, it’s time for party games!” Audrey annouces.

I may have to impale myself on one of the posters of the nice crib I spy over in the corner.

Too many ‘party games’ and Angelina-Ginny’s-Pregnant references later, I apparate straight into my bedrom and pull off my clothes on my way to the bathroom. I start the shower and while the water warms up, I stare at myself in the mirror. I don’t look much different at all.

I turned to the side. Maybe if you looked really carefully at the right spot of my stomach, you could discern a tiny bugle… or maybe I was imagining things. I sighed, pulling my long hair out of the ponytail I’d tied it up in halfway through the night and stepping into the hot shower.

My body instinctively flinched away from the water, but I stood in the spray until I was used to the temperature and it began to relax the muscles in my back. I tipped my head back and close my eyes to let the water run over my face.

I hear the door to the bathroom open, but I don’t move or say anything. I hear Harry as he takes his clothes off and they hit the floor. Four footsteps later the shower curtain is pulled back and I open my eyes and smile at my adorable fiancé. This was the type of shower I preferred.

“How was the party?” I ask him quietly as I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him closer to me and into the water.

“Your brothers are completely mental,” Harry grins at me as he wraps his arms around my waist and I move mine to his sculped chest. He leans down to kiss me and I trace that patterns on his chest then run my hands up to his shoulders and down his arms.

“I’m sure you fit in perfectly in that case,” I say when we break apart.

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you,” Harry whispers as he runs his hands up my sides then cups my face.

“And why is that?”

“Because I’ll have to prove that you’re the only one that makes me mental.”

I smirk at him and run my hands up and down his arms again before slowing inching towards a more… southern region, “And how do you plan on doing that?” I asked innocently as he closed his eyes.

“Like this,” he said huskily before running his hands all the way through my wet hair, picking me up by my waist and pressing me gently but forcefully against the cold shower wall.

Wrapping my legs easily around his waist as his lips hugrily met mine, I vaguely thought that if I hadn’t already been pregnant, I very well might have been after this shower due to the fact that both of our wands lay forgotten on the bathroom floor.

“What did the healer say?” Harry asked as I lay in the crook of his arm under the covers in our bed. His hand trailed up and down the length of my bare back and I traced his abs. I may have banished all of his clothes down the hallway claiming that they were ‘completely unnecessary.’ And he may have, in return, locked my closet door and all of the drawers of the dresser with his wand.

Either way, I wasn’t all that upset with the present situation. Tricking Harry out of his clothing and/or hiding it was a secret specialty of mine.

He had picked up on and used some of my tactics, too. Hmph.

“You were right,” I admit somewhat grudgingly. “I have to resign from the team.”

I feel him kiss the top of my head, “I’m sorry, love. I know how much you love it.”

I bury my head into his chest and nod, “I feel horrible for not wanting to quit.” I admit.

Harry is silent for a minute and my head rises and falls as he breathes, “I don’t think that that’s bad at all, Gin. Of course you wouldn’t want to quit; your team is rising in ranks and you’re one of their leading players.”

“Does that make me a bad mother, though? The fact that I put quidditch before our child?” I ask him the question that has been bothering me all day.

“It would,” he tells me and my heart sinks. “But you’re not.”

I furrow my brows and move so I can see his face, “What –”

“You’re going to quit, right?” he asks.

“Well, yeah.”

“So you’re quitting the job you have doing the thing you love for our baby, are you not?”

“I guess,” I allow. “But I don’t want to.”

“Well if you wanted to, it wouldn’t be a sacrifice, would it?”

“I guess not.”

“So you are already giving something up for the baby which makes you the opposite of a bad mother,” Harry tells me as if he’s just come to the greatest conlusion of his life.

I grin at him, “I suppose.” He kisses my forehead and we lapse into silence again. “The baby is healthy though,” I tell him after a few minutes. “They did blood work. I’m supposed to come back next month for a check up. And depending on how far along I am, they may be able to tell me the sex then, if we wanted to know.”

“Do you want to know?” Harry asks.

I look up at him to gage his reaction, “I think so.”

“Good,” he looks relieved. “I think I would die if I had to wait seven months.”

I nod, “But Harry?”

“Hmm?” he asks, looking at me in the semi-darkness.

“You know we’ll have to actually get married soon, right?”

He sighs and nods, “Your mum’s going to kill us.”

I think about this for a second, “Yeah, she’ll probably go after both of us, but my brothers will all go solely after you.”

“Fantastic,” he groans.

I kiss him on the cheek before laying back on his chest and closing my eyes, “Goodnight, Harry.”

“I love you, Ginny.”

I kissed his chest in response before adding, “They’re still going to kill you.”



A/N: Sorry for the wait, guys! I had such bad writers block on this one for no reason, but I am pretty happy with how it turned out (I think). Anyway, THANK YOU so much for all the reviews, guys! They made me SO happy. Usually, I answer them, but I'm like 300+ (on all my stories combined) behind right now due to school and it's a bit overwhelming, haha. But despite that, I promise I read them all and I love them. They're the reason I keep writing. Thank you so much, guys.
Please continue to review!
Much love,
over and outt.

Chapter 4: Chapter Three: Please Try To Remain Calm
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awe-inspiring picture made by Midnight_Witch at TDA.
she's kind of like Jesus.

Chapter Three: Please Try To Remain Calm

I am a strong-willed woman and I am doing the right thing for my family.

I am a strong-willed woman and I am doing the right thing for my family.

I am a strong-willed woman and I am doing the right thing for my family.

Repeating this phrase to myself, taking deep breaths, and fighting the urge to turn around and run back down the hall and into the locker room, I made my way to the manager’s office to meet with both her and my captian. I was going to resign. From the team. My team. Resigning. I was.

Merlin, I can’t do this.

I stopped in front of the door, closed my eyes, and tried to mentally prepare myself for the speech I may or may not have practiced in front of the mirror this morning. And for Harry. And Angelina.

Just as I was telling myself that if I turned around I would be a disgrace to all Gryffindors everywhere, I felt a gust of wind and opened my eyes to see that Gwenog Jones had pulled the door open for me. Lovely.

“You okay, Weasley?” she asked for what seemed like the millionth time recently.

“Depends,” I muttered before I smiled at my captain. She moved aside and let me pass her before she shut the door again. I took another deep, “calming,” breath.

“Good afternoon, Weasley,” the manager asked. She was a portly woman with a very crooked nose. She insists that everyone calls her “Birdie.” To this day I do not know her real name; maybe that is her real name… it’s one of the foremost mysteries of the world. “How’s your fiancé?” she always asks me this – I think she has a crush on Harry, even if she is nearly thirty years his senior. Honestly, I’m used to people fancying my Harry and the older ones are the ones that I don’t usually threaten.

Also, she’s my boss and threatening the boss is generally a big no-no.

“He’s doing very well,” I force a smile.

“Glad to hear it!” she booms and gestures for me to have a seat on the opposite side of the large wooden desk she is seated behind. Gwenog and I sit as she pours us tea; I’ve always wondered what it is with older women, meetings, and tea.

“So,” Gwenog says as she stirs sugar into her cup. “You’ve been very secretive about what you have to discuss today, Ginny.”

It’s true. I have been a right bitch about not saying anything until today. In my head I justify it by saying the press can’t catch wind of it, but Angelina says I’m in denial. Cow.

“I know,” I sigh – I may have been hoping to dance around the subject for a while. Should’ve known better, though; Gwenog is about as subtle and beat-around-the-bush as George is.

“What – is this going to turn into a guessing game?” she asks impatiently.

“Give the girl a second, Jones,” Birdie reprimands her. I resist the urge to stick out my tongue at my captain in triumph.

I take the time Birdie has just given me to blow on and then take a sip of my tea. “This is delicious, Birdie,” I say primly, mainly to annoy Gwenog.

What? She made us run the stairs today and knowing that I would take advantage of her impatience is the only thing that kept me from cursing her.

“I’d really love to hear what you have to say before I retire, Gin,” she deadpans. I swallow a laugh.

“Fine,” I finally give in after another minute of her glaring at me. I take a deep breath and set my tea on the desk, “I’m pregnant.”

Birdie and Gwenog stare at me for one… two… three… long seconds before, “Well, shit!

“I know, it’s really bad timing and it wasn’t planned, but –”

“That’ll be a hundred galleons, Jones,” Birdie interrupts me happily.

I stare at her in shock.

“Couldn’t you have kept your pants on for one more fucking season?” Gwenog asks me, irritated.

“When you’ve got it, flaunt it,” Birdie sings, the winkles on her face more evident with the huge grin that’s plastered across it.

How do you do that? You’ve gotten three of the last four dead on!” Gwenog cries, staring in shock at the older woman.

“It’s called talent, babe.”

“It’s about to be called ‘my broomstick up your cheating ars –”

Anyone,” I interrupt loudly. “mind telling me what’s going on?”

“I just lost another hundred galleons thanks to your sex drive, that’s what’s going on,” Gwenog muttered darkly. I’m fairly certain my face was nearly matching my hair.

“I don’t know how many times you have to lose before you learn, Jones,” Birdie grinned, sipping her tea.

“You must have secret sex cameras or something.”

“That’s disgusting and low.”

“So is my bank account after all these losses.”

“Who’s fault is th –”

“Wait a second. Are you two saying that you bet on when I’d be knocked up?”

They both nodded.

“You’re unbelievable,” I laughed.

“Oh, please. It’s one of the most entertaining things about being a manager of an all girls team – picking off the pregnant ones.”

“Picking off?” I raised my eyebrows threateningly.

“You know what we mean,” Gwenog waved her hand dismissively in my direction. “Birdie’s damn good at it too.”

I sat there in silence as I watched them bicker about cheating by mapping period cycles and the smell of sex in the morning. I became more and more nauseous until…

“Sorry,” I said weakly as I vanished the vomit in my boss’s boss’s bin.

“Not a problem,” Birdie winks. “So, I’m guessing this means you’re resigning?” she asks morosely.

I sigh, “I was told I had to.”

“At least that’s the reason you’ve been sucking in practice recently – I was scared you’d lost your nerve for a while there,” Gwenog teases.

“Please, I’m Ginny Weasley. I don’t lose anything.”

“Where’s your engagement ring then?” Birdie nods towards my bare left hand.



“They’d bet on you?” Angelina laughs, her long braids pulled into a bun and sweat running down her face, even though we’re lounging in the shade.

“Apparently Birdie knew I’d be knocked up this season, though Gwenog thought it’d be next.”

“That’s a bit creepy, you do realize that right?”

“I pointed this out to them. Several times.” I leaned back in the wicker chair and closed my eyes.

“Who do they think will be next?” She turns her head to smile at me and I open my eyes again.

“Wood’s wife,” I answer. “Though I doubt either of them thinks about anything but Quidditch long enough to have a decent sex life, so I put my money on Elena Mendrez.”

“Ugh,” Angelina groans. “Oliver Wood in bed is something I’ve never wanted a mental image of. Thanks for that.”

“You can’t be serious,” I sit up straight.

“What?” Angelina sits up and looks at me, confused.

“How have you never thought of Oliver in bed before?” I ask her incredulously.

“You have?

“Of-sodding-course I have!” I admit, free of blushing. “He. is. fit.”

I may be married to a very sexy man whom I love dearly and with all of my heart but bloody hell Oliver Wood is a nice piece of arse. Which is why I’m totally confused as to why Angelina is look at me like I’ve just proposed we feast on babies. “What?” I finally ask after a few seconds of her gaping. “It’s not like you can’t know! You’re the one that got to see him shirtless all the time at practice back in school!”

Angelina looks as if something has just clicked in her head, “Oohh,” she nods. “Okay, nevermind; I guess I don’t have to commit you.”

“What are you on about?”

“You never had Wood as captain, so you’re allowed to think he’s fit and all.”

“Excuse me? You can’t think he’s fit because you saw him with his shirt off a few times?”

“No,” Angelina says slowly. “I can’t think he’s fit because I’ve had to deal with five a.m. practices, his pre-match PMSing, and having him as some creepy sort of older brother.”

“You’re crazy,” I decide as I lean back in my chair again. “He’s bloody gorgeous.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes and my mind travels to the somewhat anti-climatic end to my quidditch career. Gwenog said that I’d still have box seating for all the games and was still welcome to observe practices if I wanted – without pay of course. But that was never an issue with Harry and I, anyway. Saving the world pays well.

I did make them promise not to tell anyone, though. I still had to come up with a plan that hopefully wouldn’t end in mine or Harry’s murder.

“You know who is really fit, though?” Angelina says suddenly.


“I’d be careful how you answer that question, dear.” Angelina and I both open our eyes and see George heading towards the shady tree we had dragged our chairs under.

“Oh you know I’m only with you in order to get close to my true love and soulmate Lee Jordan.”

“How can I forget,” George laughs, leaning down and kissing Angelina on the forehead.
“I don’t know, espeically because I’m carrying his baby.”

“That baby better be a prankster mastermind – if it isn’t, I’ll know you cheated on me, woman,” George’s eyes narrow playfully.

“More like you’ll know she cheated if the baby has proper brain functionality,” I grinned.

George looked at me, highly affronted, “As if I’m not the smart one in the family!”

“Don’t let Percy hear you say that – he’ll duel you for it.”

“Too true, sister dearest.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we all have our little secrets then, eh?” Angelina looks at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I guess so,” I answered her, though I thought it kind of sounded like ‘if your husband catches on, I will make your boogies violently attack you, even if you are extremely pregnant.’

But that’s just me. I could be completely wrong.

Harry had to work all day and without Quidditch to keep me busy, I was nearly going insane. I would have stayed with Angelina, but I couldn’t take anymore of her ‘subtle’ hints to my pregnancy; that cow was all but forcing me to come out with the news. All in all, this led me to where I am now, with Harry staring at me like I was crazy.

“What are you doing, Gin?” he asked, half scared, half amused.

“Sitting in the midst of all the clothes I own, obviously,” I answered him as if he couldn’t clearly see that I was in the middle of my closet with all of my clothes strewn around me into three semi-distinguishable piles.

“Yes,” Harry said slowly. “But why did you feel the need to pull all of your clothes out and throw them around the closet?”

“I didn’t just throw them around the closet, Harry,” I roll my eyes at him, smiling. “They’re in piles. This pile,” I point to the largest one, “contains clothes that won’t fit me in about two months.” I point to the next one that is a good size smaller. “This one has clothes that will fit me then, but not once I’m the size of the knight bus, and this last one – the one with hardly any clothes in it – are the clothes that will fit me even when I’m as big my nosy sister-in-law.” The last pile is made up almost solely of large t-shirts that I’d stolen from my brothers at some point.

Harry stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Hell, I probably have. “Okay, I’ll just leave you to it then…” he makes to turn around.

“No, I’m done now that you’re home,” I stand up and walk over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You didn’t say hi.”

Harry smiles his smile that makes me melt, and wraps his arms loosely around my waist, “Honey, I’m home,” he grins before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. I press myself closer to him and he tightens his grip as I run my tongue over his bottom lip. I pull away teasingly as he makes to deepen the kiss, “Good day at work?” I ask innocently as I run my hands over his chest and look into his deep green eyes.

“I’m about to have a better day at home,” He whispers and before I can process what he said, he’s lifted me up and laid me gently down on the bed.

Whatever training becoming an auror requires, if it made it easy for him to do that I’m a fan. That’s all I’m saying.

“Oh, are you now?” I laugh as he looks down at me triumphantly.

“I think so,” he muses as he sets to kissing my neck in a way that makes me completely forget my train of thought. “You see,” he says between kisses, “I have this really, really beautiful fiancée…”

My breath catches as he runs his tongue over that spot behind my ear that he loves to tortureme with, “I’ve heard she’s pretty amazing.”

“I sure think so,” he says into my mouth as he kisses my lips again and slips his hand under my t-shirt and across my stomach.

And that’s when I break.

I flip us over and pull my shirt over my head, “Apparently,” I breathe as I assist him in taking off his shirt, “I have a reputation to uphold.”

Wearing nothing but Harry’s workshirt and my underwear, I float around the kitchen trying to find the butter for the potatoes I had put in the oven when I got home. Harry’s eyes follow me in a taunting way and I’m having trouble resisting the urge to straddle him on the barstool; it’s be easier if he was wearing a shirt.

Harry gets up to take the potatoes out for me, and together we manage to get out dinner onto two plates and sit down to eat.

“How’d your meeting go?” Harry asks as I take my first bite. I sigh.

“Birdie won a hudred galleons,” I told him, then laughed at his look of confusion. “They bet that you’d knock me up this season.”

I smirked as his face reddened, “Oh.” he studders then takes a bit of his potatoes pretty quickly.

“You know this means we have to tell them soon, though, right?” I ask.

“Them being…”

“The family, yes.”

“How soon is soon?”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll get suspicious in about a week when I don’t play in the Harpies game…” Harry swallows somewhat dramatically and I roll my eyes. “I think we should set a date for the wedding, Harry."

He sighs as I take a bite, “Now that you’re not playing, it should be easier.”

I nod, but don’t trust myself to say anything. I still can’t believe I’m never going to play quidditch professionally again. Call it denial. “Are you working tomorrow?”

Harry shakes his head, “Ron and I have the day off.”



“I don’t know why we have to tell them first,”  Harry panicked as we walked up the path to Hermione and Ron’s door the next day. “You know Ron’s going to freak out the most! He still visibly cringes and looks away when I kiss you!”

I roll my eyes, “It’s not my fault he’s immature. Besides, Hermione is going to be the Maid of Honor, and I’m guessing you’ll want Ron to be the Best Man –” I look to see him nod a bit reluctantly, “so we should probably set the date with them so that they can definitely attend, no?”

Harry was silent as my flawless argument set in. I wasn’t going to tell him that the other reason I was going this was because I was a bit miffed that I had to give up the job I loved and my body while he got away with nothing. So, for entertainment purposes (along with the reason I gave Harry), we were telling Ron and Hermione first.

Harry looked a bit pale as I knocked on the door and even more so when Ron opened it smiling, “What are you two doing here?” he asked. His hair was ruffled and he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

“We have something we need to discuss with my favorite brother and his lovely wife,” I smiled sweetly as I hugged him. I needed to butter him up a bit; as much as I was looking forward to him causing a scene, I didn’t necessarily want Harry to be without certain body parts when we left.

“Okay,” he narrowed his eyes at me when I pulled away, then moved them to Harry. “What are you two up to?”

“What are you talking about, Ron?” I asked as I grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him past Ron and into the house.

“I’m talking about the fact that Harry hasn’t said a word since I opened the door and you’re being nice… too nice,” I could feel him staring at my fiancé as I walked down the hall dragging him behind me.

“Ron, you’re being paranoid,” I laughed. “Hermione? Come down here – you’re prat of a husband is acting weird again!” I yelled up the stairs. “Better?” I asked.

Ron rolled his eyes at me and motioned for us to follow him into the living room. I stopped Harry from following him, “You need to relax, love.” I told him, pulling him close to me.

“You don’t know what Ron’s like about you,” Harry whispered urgently. “He still thinks we haven’t… you know.

I laughed, “I’m sure he’s not that naïve.”

Harry gave me a significant look that made me second-guess that statement; Ron would delude himself into thinking that…

“Either way, we have to do this and now is better than in front of my whole family, yeah?”

Harry studied my face – I may or may not have given him my best puppy-face. He sighed, “Fine, you’re right.”

“I always am,” I smiled and leaned up on my tiptoes to kiss him.

“Oi!” Harry jumped nearly three feet in the air and pulled away from me so fast that I nearly fell forward. I turned around to see Ron poking his head in from the living room. “I’ll have none of that in my hallways!”

“Grow up, Ron,” I growled at him as I pushed past him and into the room.

I sat down on the couch and after a minute of staring at the fireplace, I felt Harry sit down beside me – I noticed he was sitting far enough away so that we weren’t touching and that Ron had nodded at him approvingly as Harry sat down.

Maybe I’ll just murder my brother. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.

Hermione walked into the room not long after, wearing a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, “Hey guys! Sorry, I was in the shower,” she grinned then sat on the arm of Ron’s chair. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

What a fucking hypocrite. I scooted closer to Harry just to annoy him.

“No problem, we just dropped by because we have some news and we wanted you two to be the first to know,” I grinned at one of my best friends.

“Have you set a date for the wedding!?” Hermioen claps her hands together excitedly. “It sure has taken you two long enough!”

I looked at Harry to make him say something. He cleared his throat, “Well that’s what we wanted you to help with – picking a date, I mean.”

“I resigned from the Harpies yesterday,” I say, trying to cut to the chase.

Ron gasps, “No! But you had to crush stupid Bulgaria next week!” he cries indignantly. “With stupid Krum and his stupid team –” Hermione hit him on the shoulder to shut him up.

“Ron, if this is what Ginny wanted to do –”

“It’s not what I wanted to do!” I interrupt her. “I didn’t want to quit; I love playing and I would love nothing more to beat Bulgaria and all of the other teams, but I had to quit.” My eyes were prickling and I was angry that they were. Stupid. Sodding. Hormones.

Harry saw me getting upset and put his arm around me.

“I don’t understand,” Ron told us, looking a bit shocked that I was so emotional. I’m usually not. At all. So I can understand why he’d be freaked. I mean, I am the one who threw potatoes at Percy in my fourth year when he was being a prat to Mum; I don’t get emotional, I get even.

“No,” Hermione says suddenly, a hand flying to her mouth. “Are you –” She looks down at my stomach and then from me to Harry and back again. I smile weakly and nod. “OH MY GOD!” Hermione screeches and leaps from the chair to run over and pull me up to chrush me in a hug. “That’s so exciting!” she squeals into my ear. Loudly.

“Hermione, I’m right here, there’s no need to –”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!” she screams, still holding onto me quite tightly.

“I didn’t know, now can you please…” I try to pull away and she reluctantly let’s me.

“What’s going on,” Ron narrows his eyes again. Hermione shuts up then and turns to look at him, then back at me with a worried expression. “Now, Ron, you need to stay calm and –”

I step to the left so I’m slightly in front of Harry, “I’m pregnant, Ron.”

I swear to Merlin that everything in that moment froze. No one breathed, no one moved, everyone just stood perfectly still and watched my brother for his reaction.

His jaw dropped as he stared at me. He paled, then turned a bit green, then his eyes traveled to Harry and his face became and interesting shade of magenta. He stood up abruptly.

“Ron,” Hermione said warningly as she took a step towards him.

“You,” he said looking at Harry. “My sister… pregnant… bastard child –”

“Okay,” Harry stood up. “You will not stand here and call my child a –”

“You’re not married! Isn’t that what it is?” Ron sneered, his face still colored.

“We’ve been engaged for over a year and a half!” Harry roars back. “We’ve been together since almost right after the war –”

“Just couldn’t keep your hands off of her, could you.”

“Ron!” Hermione walks over and tries to put a hand on his arm but he shakes her off.

“I don’t have to! She’s my fiancée!

“Should’ve known you’d –”

Ronald Billius Weasley,” I yelled. “If you finish that sentence I swear you will be sorry.”

Everyone turned to look at me. Harry and Ron were both breathing fast and Hermione looked a bit worried as she looked at them both. “Harry did nothing wrong here, and you know it.” I tell him.

Ron looked at me for a long time, not saying anything. “You’re right. I just didn’t know my sister was a slag,” he spat before he turned on his heel and walked out. In the silence that followed, we all heard the back door slam after him.

“That went well,” Hermione deadpanned. Well that was a lot less amusing than I thought it would be.


A/N: SORRY!! I know, the wait was too long. I'm so sorry. But it's summer now so i should be able to update faster! Thank you guys so much for all of the support for this story! It really makes me feel good, haha. I hope you guys like this chapter! And Ginny. I'll try to update soon, I promise.
Please review!
over and outt.

Chapter 5: Chapter Four: Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun
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beautiful chapter image by the one and only Midnight_Witch at tda.

Chapter Four: Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun

It took me about two seconds to come to my senses and then I was storming after him. Unfortunately for me, it took Harry and his stupid auror-dark-lord-defeating reaction time only about one second so I was storming after Harry who was storming after Ron.

We heard the back door slam and rushed towards it, Harry throwing it open first. The time it took him to open the door allowed me to rush past him and I brought out my wand and flicked it angrily at my prat of a brother, “Don’t you run from me, Ronald!” I called after him as my hex missed Ron’s head by an inch and hit a tree at the back of the yard.

Ron spun around, his wand out, and fired a hex at me. I was just about to cast the shield charm when Harry jumped in front of me and did it, “I can fight my own battles, Har –”

“I WILL NOT HAVE YOU CURSING MY FIANCÉE!” he roared towards my dear brother.

“I’ll just hex you then,” Ron screams back, firing a hex at Harry who easily deflected it.

“Get out of my way, Harry,” I growled, pushing in front of him. “This is my battle.”

“I’m not letting him touch you,” Harry told me, not turning around and not letting me in front of him.

“Harry, calm down, we don’t need you all worked up, too,” Hermoine said from our side. Harry looked at her for a second and seemed to calm down. I pushed in front of him and cast a hex at Ron.

“Oi!” he cried indignantaly as he just managed to deflect it.

“Gin, look, he didn’t mean it –” Harry spun to face me.

“Oh yes he did!” I yelled back, mad that he was taking his side now. “It’s not like he and Hermione haven’t had sex yet, filthy hypocrite –”

“Shut your mouth about my sex life!” Ron bellowed, marching forward and trying to aim a hex around Harry.

“No, I will not!” I cried, beside myself. “This is ridiculous! Harry loves me Ron, and I love him! We’re allowed to do whatever the fuck we want whenever the fuck we want to! I’m nearly twenty-three! Just because you can’t see past this bloody overprotective shit you have –”

“You’re my sister! It’s my job to protect you!” Ron yelled before stopping. A beat of silence passed and then. “It’s always been my job.” He said, looking at the ground.

“I don’t need protecting anymore.” I tried to say but Harry turned and put a hand on Ron’s shoulder, “Mate, it’s not just your job anymore.”

If it wasn’t one of the most touching things I’d seen in a long time, I would have yelled at both of them right away about how I could protect myself; I caught Hermione’s eye and saw – along with a huge bout of relief that the fight was over – she shook her head at me telling me not to say anything. I sighed and scowled at her. She rolled her eyes at me.

“She’s my –”

“I know,” Harry cut him off. “But she’s my soon-to-be wife. I love her more than I can tell you and I promise, I swear on my parents’ grave, that I won’t let anything bad happen to her.”

Ron looked up at Harry and then past him to me. I tried to stop scowling; it didn’t really work so I gave up. He grinned, “Yeah, I know.” He said finally, clapping Harry back on the shoulder. “Sorry I lost it there.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to,” Harry said and I definitely heard a harsh undertone. Ron let go of Harry and moved around him so we could see each other properly. I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Oh, come on Gin,” Ron sighed. I scowled more deeply. He rolled his eyes. I was not amused. “You know I didn’t mean it!”

“Sure sounded like you meant it.”

He sighed again and walked towards me, “I’m sorry. I know you aren’t a slag.”

I huffed.

“Oh, come here,” he grinned and pulled me into a huge hug. “I love you, little sis.” He whispered.

Well, fuck. Can’t really stay mad now.

I sighed and uncrossed my arms to wrap them around him. “I love you, too, idiot brother.”

“Congratulations,” he said a bit grudgingly.

I grinned, “Thanks.”

We pulled away and saw Hermione and Harry grinning at us. “What?” I asked, pulling my hands on my hips.

“Nothing,” Hermione smirked. She and Harry exchanged glances and smiled wider. Gits. Sometimes it was like they were acutally siblings. Me and Ron and then Hermione and Harry.

They even had the little alliteration thing going for them. It was kind of cute, actually.

Well, it was now. Back when I fancied the pants off of Harry and Hermione was his best friend I was extremely jealous. It took her forever to convince me she didn’t fancy him. Funnily enough, I would never believe her because she wouldn’t tell me who she did fancy. It wasn’t until I finally realized it was Ron in my third year that I backed off.

“You really need to learn another way to get out your feelings, mate,” Harry told Ron as we all headed back into the house. Hermione and I exchanged glances and rolled our eyes.


We ended up staying at Hermione and Ron’s until late. Hermione cooked a delicious dinner and a chocolate cake that said ‘congradulations’ in icing. I demanded that I be able to take the left overs home with me. After all, I was the pregnant one.

Together the four of us (and when I say ‘the four of us’ I really mean ‘Hermoine and I actually did the work and the guys sat there looking bored and flicking paper wads at eachother’) picked out a total of three dates that would be perfect for the wedding. Due to the shotgun nature of my wedding (Merlin, I never thought I’d say that), they were all fairly close and spread out over a time period of about a week and a half: Sunday, August Twenty-Second; Saturday, August Twenty-Eighth; and Tuesday, August Thirty-First.
I wanted to have the wedding in August so that Angelina and George could definitely come. I knew that Fred (Fred II, that is) was due to appear sometime in early to mid September so I hoped that by having it in late August we could balance out the time we needed to plan the wedding with Angelina’s bursting uterus. Either one of those dates gave us about six weeks to plan the entire thing; my mum was going to have a heart attack.

When we finally got back to our flat, Harry and I made straight for the bed and collapsed, still in our day clothes. Harry pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes and I took my shoes and socks off, “That was eventful.” He said as we got under the covers and he put a strong arm around my waist and pulled me to him.

I snuggled closer to his warm body and nodded into his chest, “I’m glad they know though.”

“Now we just have to tell the rest of the family.”

“Four more days of peace,” I sighed as I sleep clouded my brain. We’d decided that Dominique’s second birthday party on Saturday would be the best time to break the news to everyone. Because, surely, no one would injure Harry at a toddler’s birthday party, right?


As it often happens, time sped by just because I didn’t want it too. For what it felt like, it could have been the very next morning after telling Ron and Hermione that I woke up as Harry gave a loud snore.

I sighed, turning from my side to my back and stared up at the ceiling. Harry made a noise that I found especially adorable and wrapped an arm around my stomach in his sleep. I smiled before my stomach turned as I thought about what we were doing today; sure I was more than excited to see Victiore, Dominique, and Teddy (who we were taking home with us for a while after the party), but to say that I was nervous would be almost like saying that Lockhart was a bit vain.

Over the last few days, I’d been bored out of my mind without anything to do so I’d had Angelina over a lot, been over there quite often, and tidied up the house more than I’d be willing to admit. This did, however, mean that Teddy’s room was, for just about the first time since he was a few months old, perfectly ready for his arrival. All of his clothes were washed, his bed had clean sheets, and his toys were even in their bin.

My stomach churned again as my thoughts took a turn into territory that involved my motherhood and before I knew it I was ripping myself from my fiancé’s arms and dashing into the bathroom, barely making it to the toliet in time.

Bloody hell.

The potions worked alright once you took them… but if you didn’t take them right upon waking up, this is what happened. And, really, when you wake up and don’t know that it’s your morning sickness that had awoken you, it’s not usually the first thing on your mind.

Well, not mine at least. Though I’ve had my fair share of uncommon thoughts to wake up to, including ‘I hope my ex-boyfriend isn’t killed by the people who put a reward out for his head’ and ‘I hope I’m not told to use the Unforgivable Curses on anyone today,’ I’ve never had to wake up and think ‘oh, I need to take preventitive measures for my morning sickness’ before now. Maybe I just wasn’t adjusting.

“You alright, Gin?” Harry sticks his head into the bathroom as I’m standing up to rinse out my mouth.

Load of help he is now that I’m done barfing my guts up. I shake my head as I swish water around in my mouth before spitting and then brushing my teeth. I spit and grab my potions before another wave hits me, “All good now.”

“Good morning, then,” he grins and kissing me on the temple as he passes me and turns on the shower. I swallow the potion and feel the excessive tiredness and stomach churning ebb away. Thank Merlin.

Harry slides his shorts and boxers off with his back to me and steps into the shower. I stare at his shadow on the curtain, my breathing slightly heavy and my heartbeat a bit to fast.

Oh, hell.

I pull off all my clothes in record time, frowning as I catch sight of a tiny, pretty much unnoticable baby bump in the mirror, before smirking slightly as I quietly sneak into the shower behind him. I wrap my arms around his wet torso, “Good morning, Harry.” I say almost casually. I hear his breath catch and he turns around to grin slyly down at me.

“You are so bad, Ginny Weasley,” he murmurs before wrapping his arms around me and leaning down to give me a proper good morning kiss.


“But they have that drop off… you know, with the rocks,” Harry said sounding almost scared as we approached the door of Shell Cottage that evening.

I tried not to laugh at how genuinely concerned he sounded, and took his hand. “I’ll make sure that they don’t actually cause you physical harm.”

“I don’t need protecting from your brothers,” he said almost darkly. I raised my eyebrows at him. “I don’t!”

I laughed, “Whatever you say, dear.” I raised my hand and knocked twice.

A few seconds later, the door swang open to reveal an excited looking Bill, “My favorite sister!” he exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. “Harry,” he let go of me and clasped Harry’s hand in his. “Always good to see you two,” his eyes sparkled happily and the scars on his face were all but unnoticed in his good mood. I couldn’t help but smile back at him, almost all worry about my confession leaving me. Bill just had that affect on people – you couldn’t not be happy when Bill Weasley was smiling and laughing like that. “Come in, come in – everyone’s out back. We’ve got a kiddie pool set up and you should see my baby girls in their little swimsuits!” he says excitedly.

We follow him through the house where I hear the sounds of at least three people working in the kitchen and out into the backyard. I see that most of my family has already arrived and are perched somewhat around the pool that the three kids are splashing around in.

I see Angelina and Audrey, who is only about five months along and way too obsessive compulsive, are the only women out here and figure that Hermione, Fluer, and Mum must be working on the food while their husbands dote on Angelina, who is much more obviously pregnant than Audrey, and play with the kids. Bill leaves Harry and my side to join George who is laughing and spraying the hose.

“I better go see if they need any help with the food,” I tell Harry as I see him smiling at Dominique who is running from her sister who is carrying a cup of water, most likely to pour on her.

He tears his eyes away and back to me, “Technically you should be over there with Angelina and Audrey.” He smirks. I slap him playfully on the arm and scowl. “I’m not incapacitated!”

“But you are preg –”

“Harry get over here!” Ron calls happily, drenched from head to toe as Teddy giggles and squirms from his position draped over Ron’s shoulder. “I can’t find Teddy!”

Harry laughs and takes a step away from me without thinking before turning back with a questioning look. I laugh, “Hurry Harry! Andromelda will kill us if we lose him!” I call loud enough for Teddy to hear.

“He’s right there!” I hear Victiore call, confused, pointing at Teddy on Ron’s shoulder. Dominique takes this opportunity to dump her own cup of water onto her sister’s head with Dad’s help. “GRAMPA!” Victiore squeals as she dances away from them and runs to Bill, attaching herself into his legs. “Help, Daddy!” she laughs, her long, wet blonde hair clinging to her face. Bill picks her up and fills her cup with water before turning to meet Dad and Dominique.

I smile as I turn to head inside, thinking that this really was the best way to raise a family – with the help from the extended.

“You guys need any help?” I ask as I push the door open into the kitchen. I see that Hermione’s head in the over, checking on whatever was cooking in there, Fluer stirring something on the stove, and Mum finishing the icing on a unicorn-shaped cake.

Hermione closes the over and turns to me, “Looks like everything’s under control, actually.” She smirks at me. “Shouldn’t you be outside with Angelina, anyway?”

I scowl and flip her off.

“If I ever see you do that again, Ginerva, I will curse your fingers together!” Mum scolds as she turns just at the wrong moment.

“I’m twenty-two, Mum; I can do –”

“To me, you’ll always be my baby,” she tells me sternly. “You’ll know what I mean someday when you have kids.” She smiles and taps me on the cheek before hurrying over to Fluer who, in her stress, has fallen back into her heavy french accent.

Hermione, having heard the end of my Mum’s speech, stuffs her fist in her mouth to stop from giggling. I narrow my eyes at her. Now that Hermione, Ron, and Angelina know me and Harry’s secret, I am incredibly glad that we won’t have to keep it much longer.

Later, as the sun is setting and everyone has had a nice drying charm performed on them, we are all sitting around a enlarged patio table enjoying a delicious Weasley-made dinner. Harry is on my right, talking animately to Ron about some work business (seriously, they get too excited about their jobs…), and Teddy is on my left sitting next to Victiore who sitting next to her sister’s special booster chair (not a high chair because Dominique is two now and therefore too big for a high chair). Angelina and George are sitting across from me and the former kept winking and mouthing something that looked suspiciously like “you look particularly fat today.”

I would have kicked her under the table, but I might miss and get someone else and that would just lead to awkward questions.

The table was buzzing with conversation, people asking names from both George and Angelina as well as from Audrey and Percy; Mum and Fluer were talking about the day that Bill turned two while Bill tried to convince Dominique to eat her green beans if she wanted any cake.

“My birthday!” Dominique was pouting back.

“I know it’s your birthday, love, but you still have to eat properly.”

“Nuh-uhh,” Dominique shook her head. “Please, Daddy?” she looked up at Bill with what I assumed was the best puppy-dog face known to mankind. I grinned to myself as I imagined Harry giving into our daughter (if we had one) like that; I’d have to watch him closely. He already gives Teddy sweets when he thinks I’m not looking.

I look over to make sure Teddy is eating all of his food and see that he is currently trying to get Victiore to eat his own green beans in a ‘hushed’ whisper, “You like them because you’re weird like that.”

“Shut up, Teddy,” Victiore responded, sending him a look of distain. “I am not weird.”

“Your favorite color is pink, Vic, you’re more than weird,” Teddy said easily.

Victoire opened her mouth to respond, looking angry, so I decided it was time to step in, “Teddy, stop trying to get Victiore to eat your food for you and eat it yourself. And Victiore, dear, you aren’t weird – you’re just a girl.”

“And all girls are weird.” Teddy muttered under his breath. I sent him a look and he looked abashed. “Kidding, Ginny,” he smiled at me, screwed up his face, and his hair turned pink. “See, Vic, pink isn’t weird.” He sighed. Victiore and I both grinned and I leaned over to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re going to make a really good mum someday, Gin,” George said seriously and suddenly from across the table and everything just happened to go incredibly quiet around the table.

“Yeah, you’re already so good with Teddy,” Angelina agreed, looking amused.

“Have you two set a date for the wedding yet? I wouldn’t mind helping, you know.” Mum laughed, looking up from her conversation with Fluer.

This would happen to me.

Angelina and Hermione looked down trying not to laugh as I glared at them. Ron looked like he was enjoying himself. I looked at Harry who sighed and nodded.

I took a deep breath as my stomach did flip-flops. I felt Harry take my hand. “Er – actually, we need to talk to everyone about that…” I said pretty awkwardly. Harry squeezed my hand.

Angelina put her head on her hands and looked at me apt with attention. Bitch.

“You finally set a date?” Audrey perked up immediately. Probably about to ask if I put it on the goddamned calender.

“Well, we have three picked out that we wanted to run by everyone so we could pick the best one,” Harry spoke up sensing I was about to make a rude comment. He knows me so well.

Angelina smirked, knowing that when I said dates that weren’t months away there would be awkward questions.

“Oh, I hope you are planning on having a spring wedding!” Fluer gushes. “The flowers are so beautiful and the arrangements would be so much easier to –”

“Actually, we’re thinking more of a fall…ish… wedding…” I cut in as Mum started nodding in agreement with Fluer.

Everyone looked at Harry and I in confusion. “The dates are Sunday, August Twenty-Second; Saturday, August Twenty-Eighth; and Tuesday, August Thirty-First.” My revelation was met with complete silence. Even the kids were quiet, though they didn’t really understand what was going on.

I saw Dominique tossing her green beans over her shoulder now that Bill wasn’t paying attention out of the corner of my eyes.

“Of next year? That’s so far away, dear,” Dad finally said. “But if that’s what you want…”

“I mean it does give us a long time to plan the –”

“Erm, we meant of this year, actually,” Harry was bright red. I was sure I was too.

I snuck a glance at Ron and Hermione. Ron was leaning back in his chair watching the scene unfold with a goofy grin on his face and Hermione looked nervous. “That’s so soon…”Audrey said. She probably was internally freaking out that she would have so little time to help organize such a huge event. Not that we wanted her help anyway…

The men of the family, naming Bill, George, Percy, and Charlie (who had visited because Dominique was his goddaughter), were looking from me to Harry. Shit. “Are you…” Percy said quietly.

“Don’t be stupid, Perce,” George said, looking from me to his very pregnant wife with wondering eyes.

It was my mother who really caught on first, “Ginvera Molly Weasley,” she said in a low voice. “Are you pregnant?!

I swear to Merlin and all other great wizards that everyone at the table was holding their breath as I looked down at the table. I took a breath, “About three months along now.”

“Does this mean that you are going to have me another sister?” Victiore asked hopefully, having figured out what everyone was talking about.

Everyone ignored her as they stared at me and then slowly turned their heads to Harry.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Well, congradulations!” Hermione jumped up and ran over to hug me before sending a significant look at her husband.

“Er – yeah, blimey, you better make me godfather, mate!” Ron cottoned on and did his best to act at ease. Or act at all, really.

The spell broke around the table and people pulled on happy smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “I can’t believe it! All of our kids will be able to go to school together!” Audrey exclaimed as she smiled at me and Angelina.

“That’ll be a scary year for Hogwarts, then, won’t it,” Angelina laughed and I nodded. I noticed that none of my brothers were talking. They seemed to be very interested in their food and/or kid’s food.

Harry looked paler than normal as he watched George violently spear a piece of chicken. I squeezed his hand again and made sure that Teddy was actually eating his food and not just playing with Victiore. When I looked up, my mother was looking at me with a weird expression on her face. I grinned shyly at her and she sighed before returning it. Her eyes started watering and I saw her excuse herself from the table.


“I’ll be right back,” I whispered to Harry. “Make sure Teddy finishes his chicken.” He nodded, but looked a bit weary of my leaving. I got up and followed Mum into the house.

“Mum?” I called as I closed the door behind me.

I heard her crying in the kitchen. Oh, Merlin. What have I gotten myself into? I took another deep, calming breath, put on a smile, and pushed through the door into the kitchen.

She had her back turned to me and was facing the sink. Her shoulders were shaking and I could tell from her posture that her face was in her hands. “Mum? Are you okay?” I asked tenatively. She wiped her eyes and turned to face me, her face blotched and her eyes red. It made my heart ache to know I’d caused this. “I’m so sorry!” I told her as I walked towards her. “We didn’t mean for this to happen at all and then it did and I know we’re not married, but Mum we’ve been together for a long time and I know we will be until we die and I promise that I’ll try my best to raise this baby right, even if it is early and –” I felt tears in my eyes as my mother walked forward and wrapped me in a hug that made me break down completely.

What the fuck. I hate being emotional.

“Shh, Ginny, I know.” She soothed me. How did this happen? I walked in to comfort her and here I am in my mothers arms crying about… what? Crying about how I was going to be a mother? She pulled back and put her hands on my shoulders, “I’m not upset with you, Ginny.” She told me. I wiped away my tears and raised an eyebrow at her.

She laughed, “Okay, so I may be a tiny bit disappointed, but that’s not why I’m crying,” she told me. I looked at her, my mother. Shorter than me by a few inches, still plump, and with the exact same eyes she gave me. I used mine to send her a quizzical look. “I’m crying because I can’t believe how grown up you are! It seems like just yesterday you were ten years old; remember when you ran into my room one morning after your father had gone to work?” she asked me.

“Which time?” I asked, smiling.

“When you were ten and Ron had just come home for the summer and you ran into my room and looked straight at me and said, ‘Mum, I’m going to marry Harry Potter one day.’” She grinned at me and I blushed. “Oh. That time.” I muttered.

She nodded, “I said, ‘Really?’ and you nodded and jumped onto my bed, crossing your skinny little legs. ‘And we’re going to have a bunch of pretty babies and live happily ever after like you and Dad,’ you told me.”

“No one really ever needs to hear that story ever again,” I told her, laughing.

“No, but you see, now it’s all happening! You’re getting married and you’re pregnant and, Ginny, you’re going to be the best mother, I can feel it.”

I flushed, “Mum, if I’m half the Mum you were –”

“You already are,” she told me. “With Teddy,” she clarified. “You are so good with him. You always have been, ever since Harry came into the Burrow a few months after the war with a crying toddler completely baffled at how to make him stop crying. That’s when you stepped up and became a Mum to that boy.”

I laughed, “Harry was so helpless with him then! He didn’t even know how to change his nappy.”

“He’s going to be a good dad,” Mum grinned.

“He is,” I agreed. We were silent for a minute before I looked right at her. “I really am sorry, though.”

She hit me on the arm playfully, “The only thing you should be sorry for is giving me six weeks to plan a wedding! You should never be sorry for a baby.”

“Looks like I have my work cut out for me, then.”

She nodded and pulled me into another hug, “So grown up,” she whispered.


After we’d cleaned ourselves up, we walked back outside smiling and talking about the wedding. As soon as we stepped out onto the patio though, we knew something wasn’t right.

The main hint was the fact that George had Harry had hose-point, Charlie somehow had his wand, and Bill, Dad, and Percy were rounding off the little half-circle looking threatening. Angelina was holding Dominique on her stomach, Audrey had Victiore, and Hermione had a wide-eyed and interested Teddy in her lap.

Ron was sitting back in his chair with a smile on his face and his hands behind his head.

Mum and I exchanged glances and I moved to save my fiancé but Mum stopped me. I looked back at her and she sent me a “wait a tick” look. I scowled but turned to look at the boys.

“And you plan on taking care of her and this baby for the rest of your life, should we allow you to live?” Percy was asking loudly as George pointed the hose nossle threateningly at his chest.

“For Merlin’s sake, yes,” Harry yelled. “I’m not going anywhere!”

I could basically feel all of my brothers narrowing their eyes suspiciously at him.

“Even when she’s round and fat and moody not unlike an obese and angered hippogriff?” George put in. Angelina scowled and waved her wand making his pants fall to around his ankles, “I’ll show you moody!” she yelled at her husband.

“I wasn’t talking about you, dear,” George called kindly as he hoisted his pants up, blushing.

Angelina scoffed.

“Well?” Charlie asked.

“Even then,” Harry nodded.

“What about when –” I broke away from Mum then, marching towards my brothers.

“Are you quite finished?” I asked them harshly. They all turned and looked abashed – even Dad. I pushed past them and grabbed Harry’s hand. “Or would you like to ask him about our sex life too?”

They all looked uncomfortable now… even Harry. “Well, honestly, I like to do it in the show –”

“OI!” Ron called from his chair as he stood up, bright red.

“Ron’s right, we don’t need to hear this!” Percy said in a weak voice.

“Well if you’re going to ask Harry questions as soon as I’m gone I thought maybe I could clear some things up for you as well!” I called back.

“Okay, okay,” Bill held his hands up. “We get it, we’re out of line.”

“Damn straight.” I glared at them for a few more seconds before sighing, “Now, who wants cake?”

They all grinned and the kids jumped out of the laps they were in and screamed “me!” Charlie tossed Harry back his wand. I let go of Harry’s hand to help with the clean up, and as soon as I was a few feet from him I heard the spray of the hose along with a surprised and outraged cry. I spun around, “GEORGE WEASLEY!” I yelled. He let go of the hose quickly and backed away.

“Sorry!” he cried with a mischievious look. I rolled my eyes and continued into the kitchen.

“You are not,” I heard Harry mutter darkly.

“At least I don’t need my woman to save me,” George whispered back.

Harry laughed, “You just need to be saved from her, am I right?”

“Aye, mate,” George chuckled.

I smiled and waved my wand to levitate the dishes inside. Maybe this wouldn’t turn out so bad after all.


A/N: Sorry! I know that it's been forever and a day, but at least the chapter is pretty long, eh? I know, I'm terrible. Please forgive me.
GUYS, I cannot beLIEVE the number of reviews I've gotten on this story! I'm blown away... really. THANK YOU SO MUCH!! Like... really. I was having some writers block but becuase of you guys I kept thinking and braistorm and now... ta-da. I think I like it. Teddy's going to be in the next few chapters, too. I think that he would have stayed with Harry and Ginny for periods of time. I mean his Gran is kinda old and might need a break, yeah? And Harry is his godfather.
Anyway, please continue to review. Seriously, guys, you have no idea how happy they make me. They make my day. REALLY.
Okay. Enough ranting. I love you all. Please review.

over and outt.


Chapter 6: Chapter Five: The Horrific House Hunt, Amoung Other Things
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BEAUTIFUL IMAGE BY Midnight_Witch at TDA. ♥



Chapter Five: The Horrific House Hunt, Amoung Other Things


“Harry, Ginny, it’s time to get up!” Teddy called, much like a battle cry, as he jumped onto our bed and crawled up to where our faces were. I opened my eyes and saw him poking Harry in the face repeatedly.

“Teddy,” Harry groaned as he rolled over and pulled the pillow over his face. Teddy giggled and licked his hand.  I burst out laughing as Harry made a noise that was somewhere between disgust and amusement before tackling Teddy to the bed and tickling him.

I moved out of the bed and went to take my potions before anything could catch up to me. “Say Uncle!” Harry was talking over Teddy’s loud laughing.

“NO!” Teddy cried, squirming to get out of Harry’s grasp. I grinned as I walked into the bathroom.

Today was Saturday, August fourteenth which meant there were exactly two weeks until Harry and my wedding. Mum and I (along with Audrey because she lived to plan things), had been working our arses off to get everythind ready in time. Harry and I decided on something very small at the Burrow so as not to cause a fuss. As the day approached, the wedding wasn’t the only thing that Harry and I had been stressing over; we had also began the horrific hunt for a house.

Now, anyone who has gone through this horrific process knows exactly what I mean when I say that I would rather take on a nesting Hungrian Horntail than continue this search. So far we’d looked at what had to be at least twenty houses, but we hadn’t even come close to one that we both liked. Every house that I could see myself in, Harry didn’t like the yard… or the neighborhood… or the master bedroom, and every house that Harry showed interest in usually had a horrible layout or counters that would disgust even the dirtiest Slytherin.

It was a disaster. All we needed was a cute house with enough bedrooms to hold a nice-sized family. The whole reason we were moving in the first place was because we needed a bedroom for both Teddy and the new baby, so my goal was to find a house Harry and I both liked with at least four bedrooms. So far, that hadn’t happened.

After I had taken care of everything in the bathroom, I exited and found that Harry and Teddy had already gone downstairs to breakfast. I made my way down to the kitchen and helped myself to some cereal.

“How come you have to take so many potions, Ginny?” Teddy asked me with his mouth half-full.

“Swallow your food before you talk, Teddy, or you’ll end up just like Ron,” I told him.

“What’s wrong with being like Ron?”

“He has no table manners.”


“So people don’t like to have him over the dinner, which is sad,” I invented. Teddy had recently begun to question everything and, while I invited his curiosity, sometimes (like first thing in the morning) it got a bit annoying.

“Oh.” Teddy seemed happy with my answer.

“Yes, but the reason I have to take so many potions is because, like you know, I’m going to have a baby,” I told him. Again.

“But Harry, you said you’re having a baby too, though, so why don’t you take a lot of potions?”

Harry choked on his cereal and I thumped him on the back, trying not to laugh.

“My baby is the same baby as Ginny’s,” Harry explained when he was able.

“You will share the baby?” Teddy asked, confused.

“Yes, we’ll share the baby.”

“Like you and Grandma share me?”

“Kind of, but the baby will just live here with both us all the time.”

Teddy nodded and looked down at his cereal. He used his spoon to sink some of it below the milk and then let it back up again. Harry and I exchanged smiles from across the table.
I was about to ask Harry if he’d confirmed his and Ron’s dress robe fitting when Teddy spoke up again, “Will the baby call you mummy and daddy, like Vic does to Bill and Fluer?”

Harry and I exchanged worried glances, “Er – yes.” Harry answered.

Teddy was quiet for a minute as he seemed to think this over, “Were my mummy and daddy not good at sharing so you and Grandma took me instead?”

His question broke my heart, and I quickly got up from the table so Teddy wouldn’t see me cry and get scared. I hated these hormones; I was always so weepy whereas I never had been before I got pregnant.

“No, Ted,” Harry told him. “Your mum and dad loved you very, very much and they were very good at sharing you. We’ve talked about this, remember?”

I glanced over and saw that Harry leaned over to look Teddy in the eyes. I saw Teddy nod. “Are you still going to share me when the baby comes?” he asked in a very small voice, looking at the floor.

Harry grinned at him, “Of course!” he said. “Look at me Teddy,” Teddy looked up, “Ginny and I will always keep you around because we also love you very, very much; right, Gin?”

I wiped my eyes and turned, “Yup,” I grinned. “You’re never going to get rid of us, kid.” I told him as I walked over to stand by Harry and mussed up his hair.

He smiled at me. “Okay, then.” He said and went back to eating his cereal. I looked down at Harry and gave him a sad smile; Harry grinned and wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me into his lap. He kissed my cheek as Teddy looked up and wrinkled his nose, “I’m trying to eat here!” he said, exasperated.

“Sorry, mate,” Harry grinned at his godson. Teddy rolled his eyes.



“What’s wrong with this one?” I asked, exhasperated. I was holding Teddy’s hand in the kitchen of a house we were touring. It was truly a beautiful home, with five bedrooms, three and a half baths, and a dining room that could easily fit the family during holidays. It was in a purely wizarding neighborhood that was made up of mainly middle-aged couples with preteen children.

Harry scruched his nose up, “Our kids won’t have anyone to grow up with here.”

“They’ll have the whole family just a floo trip away!”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged and walked over to the large window that overlooked a small yard. “No room to run around, really…”

“There’s a park right down the street –”

“And it’s not very homey…”

“That’s probably because it doesn’t have any furniture right now.”

Harry shrugged and I sighed. “So you don’t like it?”

Harry gave me a sad smile, “I’m sorry, I just… I want it to be perfect.”

“Harry, we don’t have long enough to worry about perfect! Any house with you and me and our family will be perfect,” I told him.

“And me!” Teddy interjected.
“You’re our family, silly,” I told him.


“What do you think of this house?” Harry asked him, bending down to his eye level.

“It’s okay,” he shrugged. “Is it like the house that you had when you were little, Harry?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, laughing. “I –” he paused and got that look on his face. I almost groaned. I didn’t know if I could handle this right now; my feet were aching, I was hungry, and Mum had told me to rest because my wedding was in four days.

He stood up, that look still in place, and grabbed my other hand, “I need you to humor me, okay?”


“Just trust me,” He said, grabbing Teddy’s other hand. I let the one I was holding go, knowing that Harry was about to apparate. Probably to somewhere ridiculous. Oh, Merlin.

“Ready?” He asked me and Teddy. I sighed and nodded and Teddy squeezed his eyes shut and nodded too. I kept his hand and turned on the spot with him to help ease the side-along. When the squeezing sensation lifted, I opened my eyes curious as to what awaited me. My heart flipped instantly and I looked over at my crazy soon-to-be husband.

“Harry,” I said gently.

“No, Gin, just wait. Listen,” He reached forward and at his touch, the gate swung open. Teddy let go of Harry’s hand and ran forward into the large front yard.

“Teddy, don’t go near the house!” I called after him, worried that the house that had been left in it’s destroyed state for nearly twenty-three years.

“I won’t!” he called back happily as he reached a tree with low branches and grabbed one to start climbing.

“He’s going to kill himself,” I groaned, turning to Harry for help.

“He’ll be fine.”

I watched Harry as he took in the house he only lived in for a year. It was still exactly as it was that terrible night, with a hole blown through the part of the house that was Harry’s room. The only difference, really, was that the wood had begun mold and decay, “Harry…”

“Look at all this land, Gin,” he said, turning to me and looking directly into my eyes with his beautiful green ones. 

“Harry, we can’t live there,” I told him gently.

“No, not there, we could knock it down and rebuild a house from scratch,” He said. “we could make it exactly how we wanted it, and we would have all this land that I already own…”

“Your parents were killed here,” I said softly, putting my hand on his arm. “Do you really want to live on the yard that your paretns died on?”

“That’s exactly why I want to build here, Gin. We don’t have to build right on top of the old house, but this is where my Mum and Dad wanted to raise me,” he pointed toTeddy, who was now a few feet up in the tree. “That’s what they wanted to watch me do. They wanted to watch me and my friends run around in this huge yard; play with the muggle and magical kids that both neighbor this plot of land. This is the perfect place to raise a family!”

“I don’t know,” I said, turning to look at Teddy again. He was sitting on a branch not too high up (Harry could still probably reach him), dangling his feet and waving at us.

“Ginny! Harry! Look how high I am!” he yelled down. “I’m taller than you, Harry!”

I saw Harry turn to look at him from the corner of my eye, “Wow, you’re so tall now!” he grinned.

“Watch this!” Teddy yelled and placed both hands on either side of his body and in one swift motion, before I even realized what he was going to do, he flipped backward to hang upside down and, instead of hanging on, slipped off the back of the branch.

“TEDDY!” Harry and I both yelled, running toward the tree. But, as I watched in horror, Teddy somewhow righted and landed on his back with a slight “oof.”

“Are you okay?” I gushed as I swept him into my arms, Harry knelt beside me.

“Gerrof Aunt Ginny,” Teddy muttered as I crushed him to my chest. “I’m fine.”

I pulled back to look at him and he scowled, “There was a cushioning charm, just like at Grandma’s house.” He told me, trying to wiggle free of my grasp.

“What?” I looked to Harry, who grinned. “Perfect place for a family, eh?”


“It does make sense,” Hermione said as she twirled around in her bridesmaid dress in front of a huge mirror in my old room in the Burrow. I’d asked her opinion on Harry’s idea. I told Harry that I would think about it and ever since then he’d been hinting towards it whenever possible (and, sometimes, when it seemed impossible). “He associates that place not necessarily with the horrible thing that happened there, but with the intentions his parents had to raise a family there. He probably feels very connected to them there; I remember when we visisted…” She trailed off, recalling a time during the war I had only heard of once. I didn’t press her on the subject.

“I just feel like there’s a bad vibe about the place,” I tell her. “I’m not being unreasonable, am I?”

Hermione shook her head, “No, not at all.” She tried to look at the back of her dress in the mirror, “I really like the design of this dress, Gin.”

“That’s because you picked it, Hermione,” I rolled my eyes.


“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re going to move in to a house on the land that started everything we’ve lived through,” she grinned.

“I haven’t decided yet!” I told her as I helped her unzip the dress.

She grinned at me in the mirror, “You can’t deny Harry that and we both know it,” I opened my mouth to interject, but she turned around, “But think of the bright side, if you give in Harry will have to let you make the decisions on the house. You can build your dream house and he won’t be able to shoot you down.”

I rolled my eyes, “We work as a team, Hermione; isn’t that what relationships are about?”

“Mhmm,” she said as she hung up her dress. “If that’s true then I assume I can let Ron be in charge of the rings for the wedding in three days? Since he and I are a team and all.”

“Don’t you dare let my brother touch those rings, Hermione,” I tell her sternly. “You know what happened when George put him in charge of his wedding rings.”

“We found them with a simple summoning charm,” Hermione laughed.

“How he managed to lose the rings in the wedding cake batter is a mystery I’ll never solve.”

“How they weren’t harmed when the cake was baked is even more mysterious.”

“I swear Mum dropped him on his head when he was small.”

“That would explain a lot.”

“Like how he’d fall for a bitch like you?” I asked, teasingly.

“Be nice to me or I’ll find an even more creative spot for your wedding rings, like up your little pregnant ars –”

“Everything fit well enough?” Mum opened the door, cutting Hermione off.

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione grinned and I detected a slight blush.

“Good, good,” Mum said, obviously distracted. “That’s one more thing we don’t have to worry about…” she trailed off and exited the room again.

“She’s mental,” I sighed, sitting down on my bed.

“Like mother like daughter,” Hermione grinned as she sat down next to me.

I shoved her over.



“Ow, ow, ow,” I heard Teddy whining from the bathroom as I passed by, carrying a clean load of his clothes to his bedroom.

“Oh, that doesn’t hurt,” Harry told him.

“You’re getting soap in my eyes!”

“I am not.”


“Nuh-uh,” my fiancé eloquently answered. “Now go under the water and wash the shampoo out."

I grinned and put the clothes up before returning to the bathroom and standing in the doorway and watching them through the crack in the door.
“All done – you’re nice and clean for tomorrow,” I watched Harry help his godson out of the tub. “Are you excited?”

Teddy let Harry drape a towel over him, shrugging and looking down.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Harry asked, ruffling his hair.

“What if I mess up?” Teddy asked nervously. “What if I drop the rings?”

Harry chuckled and squatted so that he was eye-level with Teddy, “You’re not going to mess up, Ted. But even if you do, no one will care.”

Teddy didn’t look convinced.

“Here, if you mess up and drop the rings on accident, I’ll mess up too so that no one will notice that you did.”

Teddy laughed, “Really?”

Harry nodded. “All good then?”

Teddy nodded.

“Okay, let’s get you in bed and rested up for the big day tomorrow!”

Smiling, I snuck away from the door before I could be caught spying. I couldn’t believe that I was actually getting married the next day; it hadn’t really hit me yet. I felt like it should be more of a big deal to me than it was.

I changed into my pajamas in slipped into bed with a parenting magazine I’d stolen from Angelina, but my mind was still on the wedding. It was weird, Hermione was freaking out before her wedding, making sure everything was in place and that Ron had his robes on right… but I was pretty calm.

Maybe it was because I knew it wouldn’t change much. Yeah, Harry and I would be officially married, but we’d been commited to eachother so long that I didn’t think it would be any different. I’d been Harry’s since the day I saw him on the train station.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit of a stretch.

But when I was fifteen and we started going out, I knew we’d be married. Hermione laughed at me when I told her, but there’s a feeling and I knew it what it meant.

And, of course, there was the baby. Harry and I were already bonded in the most intimate way possible – we had created a life. There was a baby with a heartbeat and a shape and toenails, I think, that was growing and was only mine and his. No one could take that away from me or from us and marriage wouldn’t make that any more official.

It may matter to my Mum and Dad that we get married, and it will be nice to get all dressed up and have my Dad give me away. I’m pretty excited about the wedding, but I know that nothing is really going to change. Harry and I have been married in every way but the official one for ages.

It will be weird to be Ginny Potter though. In a good way.

I smile at the thought.

Ginerva Molly Weasley Potter.

How many times did I write that on my scrap parchment?

“Teddy’s in bed,” Harry walks into the bedroom and pulls me from my thought. “What’re you grinning so goofily about?” he askes, smiling himself.

“Just thinking about tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” Harry strips down to his boxers and climbs into bed with me, pulling the magazine from my lap and dropping it on the floor. “What’s tomorrow again?” he says huskily as he pulls me to him so that he’s leaning over me and I can feel his warm skin press against my skin left exposed by my tank top.

“I’m changing my name, I think,” I manage to say, even if my mind has gone a bit hazy. Harry kisses my neck and I let out a soft moan.

“Is that right?”


Now he’s planting kisses in a line from my ear to my lips. He stops right before he kisses me full on the mouth and I open my eyes (when had I closed them?) and look into his green ones that I love so much. He smiles at me.

Unable to take it any longer, I crane my neck up and kiss him hard on the mouth, wrapping my arms around his bare neck and pulling him to me. I feel him smiling into my mouth and I run my tongue across his bottom lip, something I know drives him crazy. He moans and rolls over pulling me on top of him. I feel his hands under my tank top on my hips and I nearly rip off all of my clothes right then.

But then another option comes to mind.

I run my fingers through his hair and kiss him properly for another few seconds before pulling back and rolling off of him, “We can’t do that,” I say, smiling at his tortured expression. “We’re not married yet.”

He shakes his head at me and rolls over, putting on hand on my exposed stomach. He runs it up my side and a shiver runs through my body.

This is not fair.

“You’re not nice to me, Ginny Weasley.” He whispers.

“Maybe I’ll be nicer as Ginny Potter,” I raise my eyebrows, smiling.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see then won’t we?” he leans down and kisses me so hard I forget what I was trying to do in the first place. When he pulls away I pout at him, but he just grins, grabs his wand off the nightstand and waves it to turn out the lights.

He pulls me close to go to sleep and all I can think about is how I want him naked right now.

I was supposed to be the one that won this teasing war.

Damn you, Harry Potter. Damn you.





A/N: I know, I'm horrible. I haven't given up on this story, guys, i swear. Nor on any of my other ones. I'm really trying to balance my college work with writing because I really love to write. I hope you guys still like me... just a little? Please? Haha.

Please tell me what you think!

Next is the wedding.

You guys and your reviews keep me going. Really. Like it's 12 and I've slept 4 hours in the last like 48 but I'm posting this for you. That counts for something, no?

You guys rock. I love you all.

Over and outt.


Chapter 7: Chapter Six: Mr. and Mrs. Potter
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  beautiful chapter image by callisto @ TDA


Chapter Six: Mr. and Mrs. Potter


People say that when they get nervous, they get butterflies in their stomach.

Now that’s cute and all, but right now, as I sit in front of a mirror getting my hair done for my wedding, there are bloody dragons flying around in my stomach (and shooting jets of fire up my esophagus, but I think that’s more related to the whole pregnant thing, not the nerves).

“I can’t believe my little girl is getting married,” my mum says softly for the millionth time, her hands still tangled in my hair.

“I know, I can’t believe it either,” I watch her twist another strand back into the half-up-do she’s creating.

“I always knew you’d end up with Harry, though,” she smiles at me in the mirror and I laugh. “Ever since he came out of that chamber with you your first year, I knew.”

A shiver runs down my back as memories of that terrible ordeal tried to surface. I think about the white dress hanging in the corner and they float away. “I never thought he’d actually fancy me back.”

“I knew he would as soon as his mind was clear enough to focus on anything like dating; he was always so damn worried about everyone else, he never had time to really think about only himself and what he wanted.”

“I know,” I answer quietly. She finishes my hair and I see her in the mirror. Standing up, I walk around the chair and pull my mum into a hug, “Thank you for everything, Mum.”

“I’m so proud of you, Ginny,” she pulls back, puts her hands on either side of my face, and kisses my forehead before hurrying out of my bedroom wiping at her eyes. I take a few deep breaths myself, knowing that if I mess up my make up Hermione will probably murder me.

I walk over to my window and see the marquee that had been set up and the flowers and suddenly it really hits me.

I’m getting married today.

I’m getting married today.

I’m getting married today.

I’m getting married today.

No matter how I stress the words, the sentence still doesn’t make sense to me. Wasn’t it just a week ago I was kissing Harry for the first time in the common room after we’d won the match? And then about three days ago we got back together after the war, and I could have sworn that only yesterday we were moving in together. How, how, can I be getting married to Harry Potter today?

I see him, then, running a hand through his hair and staring at the decorations, just as I was. He looks smart in his dress robes and the smile on my face is taking over before I even realize it.

 He’s marrying me today.


Ginny Weasley has somehow tricked Harry Potter into loving her.

Nothing makes me happier.


“Are you ready?” Hermione asks, standing next to me in the living room of the Burrow. Her dress floats around her legs, the light-yellow fabric shining in the sun. Luna had insisted that yellow was the greatest color for a wedding and because it is a good summer color, I’d just gone with it.

Everyone – meaning family and close friends – is seated outside and I can hear that the music has just started to play. My stomach clenches, but I nod.

“Yeah,” I grin, hugging my Maid of Honor.

“Okay, Victoire, Dominique, are you ready?” I hear Mum ask. The two girls, dressed in light yellow-colored dresses, grin and nod. They both look so beautiful and too adorable as my little flower girls. 

Teddy stands behind them looking so grown up in his dress robes and holding the little pillow with the rings on it as if they were the most important things in the world. I smile and walk over to him, squatting down to his level, “You look very nice today, Teddy.”

“Thanks, Ginny!” he smiles. “Ron told me to make sure I don’t drop the rings because they’re really important so I’m being extra careful.”

I almost laugh at the irony of Ron telling Teddy to mind the rings when he lost George’s in the cake at his wedding. “You’re doing a very good job."

“You look pretty in that dress,” Teddy looks up at me, and I wonder if Harry told him to say that. The little boy’s hair was its trademark blue and his big brown eyes shone out at me, freckles dotting his nose. Either way, this kid is too cute to be real.

I think of Remus and Tonks in that moment and my chest constricts. I hope I’m doing an okay job in my part of raising their son. I hope I could do an okay job of raising my own child. I wish the whole Lupin family were here.

“Thanks, Ted,” I kiss him on the forehead and he pulls a face. I laugh and wipe off the traces of lipstick I’d left.

I heard the music start playing and I stood up, taking a deep breath.

Holy shit.

This was it.

Mum directs Victoire and Dominique out of the living room and down the isle. I watch as my angelic nieces float to the front, the petals they throw dropping to the ground and then rising up in small puffs of colorful smoke that faded quickly. Dominique dumps her basket of petals upside down halfway down the isle and then subtly steals handfuls from her sister until they reach their parents, who are laughing.

Teddy walks next, his little chest puffed out importantly, balancing the pillow ever-so-carefully even though the rings were charmed to stay in place until Harry or I touch them.

“I can’t believe it,” I turn around and see that my dad had just entered from the kitchen. His eyes are red and a bit teary. “My little girl’s all grown up.”

My heart melts. Here was my dad, my dad who had been through so much and fought for us to live in the world we live in, who had lost so many friends and even a son in that fight, who had always been there to protect me – whether I needed protection from a deadly spell or a scraped knee, who was the best dad I could ever ask for, and he was about to give me away to one of the other best men I knew.

“I’ve been grown up for a while, Dad,” I manage to say as I slip my arm around his.

“But never like this.”

I look ahead and see that I’m up next.

“Are you sure about this?”

I shot my dad a look and he chuckles, “Good, because I don’t think I could give you to anyone else. If he can save all of the wizarding world, I guess I could trust him with my daughter.”

I roll my eyes as the wedding march starts and everyone stands up and turns around to look at me and my father.

“You look beautiful, Ginny. The most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I smile at him and we step out of the Burrow and into the isle.

The marquee is nowhere near as large as it was for any of the other weddings held here, and the crowd isn’t either, but it’s perfect anyway. Everyone is smiling and I look ahead and see Harry.

He’s grinning so widely that it looks as if his mouth might stage a coup and overtake his entire face. I know that mine probably looks the same. Even if someone had offered me all the gold in Gringotts I don’t think I would have looked away from Harry for a second; he is perfect. From his messy hair that everyone had stopped trying to tame to his feet that he liked to press to my legs at night when they were cold just to make me jump, I love this man and I am the happiest, luckiest person on the planet.

Before I know it, I’m up at the front and I hear Mum sobbing as Dad gives me away to Harry. For the first time since I saw him at the other end of the isle, I look away from my soon-to-be-husband and at my dad.

“I love you,” I tell him.

“I love you, too, Gin,” he says, his eyes definitely tearing up now, and kisses me on the cheek before going to sit by Mum.

I look back at Harry, who is still looking at me, mouth half open. “You are the most beautiful person, place, or thing I have ever seen in my entire life.”

I smile wider, “You’ll do,” I tell him. He laughs and leans in to kiss me before the man presiding over the wedding clears his throat and we suddenly remember we’re in front of most of the people we care about.

Yeah, it’s probably better he didn’t kiss me. I don’t know if I would have been able to resist jumping him right here, right now.

I would blame the baby hormones, but this one is all me. … Well, it’s all my incredibly sexy fiancé.


I would have to admit that the actual wedding takes too long, if I were being honest. After we say our vows and exchange the rings, I stand there while the fat man presiding over the wedding talks and occupy myself by looking at Harry and his face and his lips and thinking about the amazing sex we’re going to be having for the rest of our lives. Finally, the fat man pronounces us husband and wife and I get to kiss my husband.

“I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Harry James Potter!” he says joyfully and everyone claps. Mum and Dad and nearly all of my sisters-in-law and even a few of my brothers (George will falsely deny it) wipe tears from their eyes and the place transforms into the reception area.

And then we’re practically mobbed.

“Congratulations, guys!” people are telling us from every side and angle. Not that I don’t love them all dearly, but I feel suffocated and I just want to breathe.

“This way,” Harry pulls me away from the crowd and when we suddenly break free, before I can even process how we got out of there, he’s kissing me and pulling me towards him and doing that and I forget about everything except Harry, Harry, Harry.

After way too short of a time, but what I think was several minutes, he pulls away and I lean my forehead on his. “I love you, Ginny Potter,” he whispers and I wonder why we didn’t do this whole marriage thing sooner.


“Next time you get married, can you try to make it so I can actually drink at the reception instead of babysitting my husband?” Angelina waddled up to me later in the night.

“Oh, I’m sorry, the reception tent has already been set up, we don’t need this second one,” I told her seriously, gesturing to the dress that was covering her very pregnant belly.

“Fuck you, Potter,” she flips me off, and my stomach does that flippy thing it does whenever someone calls me Ginny Potter.

“I’m just kidding, you look amazing,” I hug and tell her sincerely. “I only hope I look that good when I’m nearly nine months.”

“You’re just saying that so I won’t kill you in your sleep.”

“No, I’m being serious!”

“Uh-huh,” she says, but she’s smiling. “Where’s the groom?”

“On the dance floor with Victoire and Dominique,” I point to my husband, who is holding one of each of the girl’s hands, with Ron holding each of the girl’s other hands and they dance in a ring-around-the-rosey fashion.

“Those girls going to be able to get whatever they want from anyone they want it from,” Angelina shakes her head.

I nod in agreement and find myself bringing a hand to my stomach and smiling. I can’t wait to see Harry with our child.

“Are you excited for the honeymoon?”

I look over at her, “Honeymoon? Harry and I aren’t going on a –” I stop as I realize she looks horrified.


I smile, “What?”


“Angelina Weasley,” I use what has been called my ‘scary voice.’ Ron says I inherited it from Mum.

“I thought they’d already told you!” she pouts. “You can’t tell them I told you.”


“The whole family chipped in because they knew you two weren’t going to go anywhere on your own with the baby and such, and we got you a week-long trip to this tiny island off the coast of Australia.”

“You didn’t,” I said, so excited that I might explode. Harry and I didn’t want to waste time and expenses planning a honeymoon when we already had so much to do, but… “I can’t believe you guys –”

“Shut up, will you, or they’ll know I told you!”

“We told you we didn’t need or want –”

“Everyone needs a honeymoon. Especially you two, with all the stressful things you’ve been dealing with. Get away, shag it off. It’s not like you can get pregnant a second time,” Angelina grinned at me and I smacked her on the arm.

Then I hugged her again.

“They’re totally going to know I told you,” she muttered as I hugged her as tightly as I could with her large belly between us.

“You better not have that baby while I’m away,” I warned her.

“Where’re you goin’?” George came up behind me. I froze and turned around.

“Erm…” I tried not to look like I knew anything, which was hard when I was still in shock from the news.

“Ang!” George took one look at the two of us and whined, “you can’t keep anything from her, can you?” he shook his head and walked over to kiss his wife on the cheek.

“Sorry,” she said, looking slightly abashed.

“Well, enjoy it little sis,” George patted me on the head as I tried to duck away from him. “What I’d give to go back to my honeymoon. A week of the beach and shag-”

“I’ll be going now!” I announced loudly, backing away slowly before I found out more about my brother’s sex life than I presently knew (which was already way too much).

“May I have a dance with my favorite, annoying little sister?” I bumped into Ron, who, though I’d seen a lot of (he was Harry’s best man), I had yet to dance with.

I grinned and offered him my hand, “You may.”

We made our way to the dance floor as a new, slow but not too slow song started. “You look gorgeous.”

“You clean up nice yourself,” I told him. He opened his mouth to say ‘thanks’ but I cut him off, “I’ll have to tell Hermione she did a good job on you.”

He scowled playfully at me and spun me around, like he used to when we were kids dancing to the songs Mum played. I laughed and fell back into him, “Can you believe we’re all grown up now?”

He made a face, “You, married and with child,” (only Ron would say it like that), “all with my best mate, who you were supposed to be off limits to.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Off limits?”

“Yeah, you know, best mates little sister and all that,” he muttered

I laughed, “As if you ever had a say in who I dated.”

“A bunch of gits, if I remember correctly.”

I coughed something that sounded a lot like Lavender Brown, but no one can prove anything.

Ron blushed and I smiled at him, hugging him closer. “It’s not like you’d have me with anyone else, Ron, face it. Harry’s the only one you trust enough.”

He didn’t say anything, but rested his chin on the top of my head, “I better be the godfather of that baby,” he finally said. “If you pick George, I swear to Merlin –”

“Mind if I trade you, mate?” I looked over and saw Harry holding Hermione close like Ron was holding me.

“Get your hands off my wife, Potter!” Ron grinned and spun me out of his arms and into Harry’s. I heard Hermione giggle as Ron scooped her into his arms dramatically.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Potter,” I said formally. “I was afraid I was going to lose you to one of those other fine girls.

“That could never happen, Mrs. Potter,” he smiled before kissing my forehead and pulling me tight against him. We swayed with the song, just holding each other in silence for a moment.

“Did you hear about the honeymoon?” I asked him.

“As if Ron could keep a secret,” he laughed.

“We check into the hotel tomorrow evening, right?”


“Well, then I’d say we have some time to kill, eh?” I looked up at him, smirking.

“I’d say so. Conveniently, I know of a certain activity that will fill up that time quite efficiently,” he smirked back.


The only thing I hate about Harry in dress robes is how fucking long it takes to get them off. There’s like three layers of clothing between me and the body that I need to feel on my body right now, which a predicament that makes me very unhappy.

We stumble into our bedroom, me down to my knickers (the dress was somewhere in the kitchen, I think), and I slide the robes off his arms and start to tug at the tie and dress shirt he is wearing underneath.

He captures my mouth in another head-spinning kiss and I let out an embarrassing moan, the tie untying becoming one of two things that got much harder. He runs his hands through my hair, down my back, and grabs my arse, pulling me up and into him as he turns and pins me against the wall. Our teeth hit briefly as my back contacts the wall, but I don’t think either of us gives two shits.

I finally yank the tie off and plunge my hands into his hair, pulling his face closer to mine. I break away from his mouth and start trailing kisses up his jawline and down his neck.

“Merlin, his breath is hot on my shoulder and suddenly my back support is gone and Harry spins and nearly throws both of us onto the bed. He kisses my neck and my chest as I fumble with the buttons on his shirt before giving up and pulling hard so they all pop off.

Close enough.

I reach my hands under his shirt and pull his warm body so his stomach finally contacts mine and I arch into him. I gain leverage and pull his shirt off of his arms as I flip us so I’m on top. I grind my hips into his over his boxers and he closes his eyes.

“Ginny Potter, you are amazing,” he says before pulling me down and kissing me until I don’t remember my own name.

For some reason, the fact that I’m now married to this man and will be doing this, him, for the rest of my life is incredibly sexy.

I’m probably screwed up in the head.

Though, with the way this is going, that’s not the only way.


“We’re married.”


“And going to have a baby in five months.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, cuddled up against Harry in bed an hour or so later.

“Are you happy?”

I look up at him, surprised that he could ask such a stupid question, “Of course I am. I love you.”

He smiles, his green, green eyes shining. “Good.”


“And I love you, too.”

I smile and cuddle back up to him, “Good.”

We lay there for a few more minutes, soaking up everything we’ve been through in the last month, in the last year, in the last ten years. “Harry?”


“We should build a house in Godric’s Hollow.”

I feel him move, and sit up a bit. I look up and see him looking down at me, “Are you serious?”

I nod.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“If it’s what you want, then yes. I think it’d be nice to be close to both your family and mine.”

“You’re amazing,” he leans in and kisses me. I smile against his lips.

“That’s what I hear,” I smirk.

He kisses me lightly again and then settles back against the pillows, smiling. Everything is peaceful and resolved and I can tell that he’s drifting off to sleep…

So I press my cold feet into his leg and he squeals.

I laugh, hugging him tighter, and for the first time since I started vomiting on the Quidditch pitch, I really feel like everything is going to work out.





A/N: I'm a terrible person. I know. I just hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me and maybe even review? Please?

You guys are awesome. You keep me going.

over and outt.


Chapter 8: Chapter Seven: Saps and Sons
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beautiful chapter image by callisto @ TDA. she's ten sorts of awesome.



Chapter Seven: Saps and Sons



Ginny threw her head back as Harry’s hands tightened around her arse and then moved slowly up her sides. His fingers removed her favorite black bra with practiced skill and she threw it across the room before leaning forward, pressing her chest against her husband’s bare one.


She felt his hips thrust up quickly with her action. She grinned over him as she ran her fingers through his messy, soft hair and paused with her lips over his.


The sun was setting on the other side of the drawn blinds of their hotel room. The light seeped through just enough to illuminate his green eyes in the sexiest way as he opened them, looking at her looking at him.


“What do you want me to do to you, Harry Potter?” Ginny whispered, her lips meeting his when she annunciated the w’s and the m and the o’s. She moved one hand down and traced the band of his boxers, her fingers light and warm on his skin.


Harry sound like a moan, “Ginny.”


She hooked her thumb under the band. “Ginny.”


She tugged them lower.


“Ginny!” I shook my head slightly, focusing on my husband who was currently standing in front of me in the bedroom of our flat.


“Sorry,” I grinned at him.


He smiled back, “Is this clean or dirty?” he asked, holding one of my harpies t-shirts over the suitcase he was clearly unpacking.


“Dirty,” I answered and watched him throw it into the larger of two piles on the bed.


“What were you thinking about?” he asked, turning back to the suitcase.


“Evening number four,” I said softly, walking up behind him and wrapping my arms around him. I felt him freeze and smiled. He was remembering, too.


He turned around in my arms and brought his hands to my face, “That might have been my favorite night.”


“Night six was good, too.” Midnight. Swimming pool. Complete darkness…


“Number one wasn’t bad either,” Harry grinned. Through the door. Against the wall. On the bed in a tangle of limbs.


I grinned, “Repeat?” I barely allowed him time to comprehend what I’d said before I jumped up, wrapping my arms around his neck. He caught me, his reflexes kicking in (thank Merlin), as I kissed him hard on the mouth. One of the good things about being a fair deal smaller than your husband was that this position didn’t cause him much discomfort, and with the way I could pull myself into him, I wasn’t complaining either.


“Here I am trying to be responsible and unpack our suitcases and you –” I cut him off with a kiss before trailing them along his jawline.


“Fuck it,” one of his arms wraps more tightly around my waist and the other grabs my arse, simultaneously holding me up and pulling me closer. I ran my fingers through his hair again, stopping to pull on the stands near his neck. He spun around and we fell onto the bed, our teeth knocking together.


I laughed as I looked up at him, brushing the hair out of his face. “I love you.”


“You don’t even know.”



As newly weds – well, as Harry and Ginny, really – I am not ashamed to admit that I was shagging the savior of the Wizarding World when we heard it.




Harry stopped kissing my neck and I turned my head just in time to see the howler burst into flames. We looked at each other for a few seconds.


“Five more minutes, go, go, go!” I called, rolling over so that I was on top.


Harry laughed, “Ginny this isn’t a quidditch drill –”


“In four and a half months, I’ll be the one with the baby and the vagina, so for now do as I say,” I cut off his retort with a kiss, running my tongue s l o w l y across his bottom lip the way I knew drove him crazy and effectively shutting him up.



Fifteen minutes later, I followed the receptionist’s directions to Angelina’s room with Harry following behind me. The silence in the halls made me think that they had silencing charms placed on all of the rooms, which was probably a very clever idea. I pulled the door to room number nine open and took in the scene. The room was a color of pink that made me want to curse whomever invented it; such a mixture of pink and orange should never exist, yet alone cover four walls in a maternity ward.


Angelina was laying in the hospital bed, her huge belly rounded clearly in the sheets and her head laid back on two fluffy pillows. She gripped the railing on one side with her left hand and George’s hand with her right. Her hair was stuck up in all sorts of random directions and plastered to her face in every other.


“Looks like you’re having fun,” I commented lightly as I walked over to stand by George. My brother extracted his hand from his wife’s (holy shit, it looked bruised) and shook Harry’s hand feebly.


“It feels like someone is casting the Cruciatus curse on my uterus,” Angelina moaned.


I walked patted her hand lightly, “Just think about the beautiful baby you’ll have when this is over and –”


“I’ve found that thinking about the torture I’m going to put my husband through after this is over is much more effective.”


George swallowed. I hadn’t seen my brother look so worried in nearly six years. I could plainly see how he was worried not about the threat his wife was making, but about his wife in general.


“Why did it take you so long to get here? The healer’s a bloke, too, and when they’re both in here and the contraction hits the only thing I can think about is how nothing they’ll ever feel can compare.”


“So you want me here so I can see and imagine the thing I’ll be going through in four and a half months?”


She nodded and fucking smirked at me. This girl was in labor and she was still the little bitch she’d been when she cheekily shouted to use protection as Harry and I were leaving out reception.


“That’s nice of you,” I responded dryly.


“I try.” she stopped. “Oh, no.”


George whispered something to Harry that sounded a lot like run. “FUCKING HELL,” Angelina screamed, one hand flying to her stomach and the other gripping the railing so hard that her knuckles turned white. “WHERE THE BLOODY HELL IS MY FUCKING HEALER? HE CAN’T SEEM TO RETURN WITH THE PAIN POTIONS HE PROMISED TWO FUCKING CONTRACTIONS AGO!” she yelled, her eyes squeezed shut.

George rushed over to her side and pushed her hair back off of her forehead, “Let’s do the breathing like my mum told you –”






Harry and I exchanged slightly terrified looks – I mean, we’d heard Angelina scream over the years (she was out Quidditch captain once upon a time) – but never like this. My hand slid to rub my now-protruding belly that was “hidden” under a loose shirt. I don’t know when it happened, but one day on the honeymoon I woke up and bam! baby-bump; it was as if I had started showing overnight.


And I’m not going to lie, seeing this was slightly freaking me out.


Fleur was the only other ‘Weasley’ to have given birth in our generation and not only was I out in the waiting room and therefore not experiencing the birth as hands-on as I was with Angelina, but I had also been told that Fleur had breezed through both of her labors like the fucking perfect, delicate, prim little veela princess she was with only a few bouts of French cursing. Bitch.


Between her and Angelina, I think I knew which I’d take after; us Weasleys do have tempers and quite enjoy situations in which we can curse as colorfully as we want without Mum threatening to Scourgify our mouths.


After thirty minutes and four contractions, Harry volunteered to go tell those in the waiting room (which, at this point, was likely most of the family) how everything was going. I wasn’t quite sure how he was going to do this without repeating Angelina’s creative curse words, but he ducked out of the room just as a Healer entered. Mercifully for both Angelina’s uterus and mine and George’s ears/hands, he was carrying a potion.


“Oh, thank Merlin,” all three of us said at the same time. Angelina glared at both of us.


“I’m sorry it took so long; tonight seems to be quite the night to go into labor,” he smiled at us. Angelina gulped the potion down, making a face at the taste. “I’ve heard it’s not the best tasting potion –”


“Have you also heard that being in labor is only a bit painful, because that was the nastiest damn thing –”


“So, how much longer do you think this will take?” I cut in over my lovely sister-in-law for her own good.


“Well, I can’t be sure, but it is time that I check how dilated you are, Angelina, and then I’ll be able to guess.”


“Go right ahead,” Angelina sighed.


The doctor moved to the end of her bed and disappeared under the sheet. Merlin, I don’t know if I’d ever be that comfortable with – holy shit where the fuck is he putting his hand?!


“You alright, Gin?” Angelina was smirking again.


“Yes,” I squeaked. I was actually internally freaking out about letting any man other than my husband, even if it was my healer, have full access to my lovely lady parts. I made a mental note to make sure that Healer O’Neill was going to be my healer when I delivered. I wasn’t too happy about anyone sticking their hand as far up as I think this guy’s just went, but if it had to be someone it was damn sure going to be an older lady whom I trusted.


I don’t even care if that sounds weird.


“Uh-huh,” she said. “Merlin, this potion is amazing. I can feel the pressure but none of the pain – and after that pain a bit of pressure is nothing.”


George, who had been oddly silent throughout the whole thing, smiled at Angelina and continued to stroke her hair. She looked up at him and smiled back.


“So you’re about eight centimeters, which is really good considering you’ve only been in labor for about two hours. As you know, you need to get to ten before you can push. That should be in about thirtyish minutes, so I’ll be back to check on you then, okay?” The healer emerged from the sheets.


George and Angelina nodded and George thanked him with a weak smile.


“If that man wasn’t responsible for the health of my son, I’d hex him,” Angelina muttered darkly as the door closed behind him. “‘I’ve heard that isn’t the best tasting potion’ my huge, pregnant arse.”


“I’ll go tell the family the news,” I told them. I felt a bit weird just sitting in the room with them watching Angelina wince as the pressure of the contractions hit her and watching George wince as his wife did.


“You better be back before I have to start pushing,” Angelina told me. “I need some estrogen in this room.”


I laughed, “I will.” I pushed the door open as George kissed Angelina’s head and made my way down the hall.


There were about ten people I wasn’t related to in the waiting room and about seven that I was. Percy and Bill sat beside each other in the corner, wifeless and entertaining a small boy with an elephant trunk in place of a nose. Mum and Dad were sitting beside them, with Harry, Ron, and Hermione a little bit down.


They all looked up expectantly when I walked over to them, “The healer says it should be another thirty minutes or so before she starts pushing.”


“Oh, good,” Mum clapped her hands together, her slightly worried expression not faltering. “I was hoping she wouldn’t have a long, drawn out labor like I did with the twins. Do you remember that, dear?” She turned to Dad, who nodded. “Twelve hours of labor for all of those years of trouble,” she finished fondly. We all shared a look as we realized that the one member of our family who should most be here couldn’t be.


I took a deep breath and sat on Harry’s lap partly because all of the other seats next to him were taken and partly because he was my husband and I could. I pulled at my shirt to make sure it was hiding my baby bump as effectively as possible.


“Fleur’s at home with the girls, but I’m to floo her as soon as I hear anything, so I’ll be back,” Bill said, getting up and walking towards the community fireplaces.


“Audrey’s laying down, her pregnancy is getting to her,” Percy explained before turning back to take over entertaining the little boy. I noticed a woman sitting off to the side watching them with a fond look over a stack of paperwork and figured she must be the boy’s mother.


“We’re never leaving our wands lying around when this kid’s born,” I whispered to Harry, shuddering at the thought of something so worrisome happening to my child.


He nodded.


“How is Angelina holding up?” Hermione asked me.


“The healer finally showed up with the pain potion, so now she’s doing a lot better. Says she can just feel pressure now.”


She nodded, “I read about that. The pain potions they have today are actually quite safe for both mother and child. Back when, say, Ron was born, they had a tendency to mess with the baby’s mental capacity.


Ron, who had been just watching his wife talk, looked indignant, “Are you saying my brains are addled?”


I laughed with Harry as Hermione turned to him, “Of course not, I’m just saying that some of the babies born in the wizarding world around the time we would have been born have had some real problems with certain aspects –”


“My brain is fine!”


“I know that,” Hermione sighed. “Nevermind.”


“Probably think I can’t understand the logic behind it,” Ron muttered.


Hermione rolled her eyes to me and I hid a smile. Harry lifted one arm from my waist to reach around Hermione and clap a pouting Ron on the shoulder.


My twenty-four year old brother, ladies and gentlemen.


I sat back against Harry while he chatted with Ron and Hermione about the honeymoon, not really contributing much. I was thinking about my pregnancy, which, I guess, wasn’t abnormal when you’re in a maternity ward watching someone else give birth.


I needed to make another healer appointment – I was about five months along now. I was pretty sure I could find out the sex of the baby, if I wanted to.


Of course I wanted to; I’ve never been that patient.


Before long, Harry nudged me, “Shouldn’t you get back?” he asked.


“What, are your legs falling asleep?” I asked, turning to smile at him.

“No, I just thought that Angelina wanted you in there for the birth…” Harry said. I gave him a look. “And I lost all feeling in my legs twenty minutes ago.” I laughed, kissed him quickly (Ron pointedly looked away, still), and told the family I’d be back when the baby was born. As I disappeared back down the hall, I saw Harry shaking out his legs.


I opened the door to room nine just in time to see more of Angelina than I ever wanted to see, “Merlin!”


“Close the fucking door!” Angelina yelled. “You’re late!”


“Sorry!” I shut the door and quickly walked around to the half of Angelina that wasn’t spread out for the world to see. George was holding her hand, standing by the bed and trying to look around her legs to see what was going on down there.


“I’ve been pushing for twenty minutes!” she whined. George wiped her forehead with a damp washcloth. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily.


“Five, actually,” the healer put in.


“NO ONE ASKED YOU,” Angelina screamed suddenly as she grabbed my hand in a vice grip, scrunched up her face, and pushed through another contraction.


She yelled or grunted or made some type of noise I’m not comfortable in naming as she pushed for what seemed like a very long time. When she finally relaxed, the tips of my fingers were blue and George looked nearly as stressed out as his wife.


The healer again shoved his hand somewhere that made me uncomfortable and smiled up at the three of us. A nurse wiped his forehead from behind him. “It feels like you’re close. A few more good pushes should do it; I’m sure you can feel the pressure moving further down.”


“I should have asked for a female healer,” Angelina muttered.


“Sorry, she’s not usually like this,” George said weakly to the healer.


“Yes, she is,” I amended, earning a quick glare and then another hand squeeze as she sat up and yelled something that sounded like ‘shut up, you bitch.’


“This is never going to end!” she cried as she sat back against the bed. Sweat was pooling on her hairline, despite the fact that George was wiping a washcloth over it frequently. Her hair was coming out of its bun and her eyes looked exhausted.


“It will,” I told her, feeling bad for her and passing my hand over her hair. “You’ll have a beautiful baby and be able to make fun of me in four and a half months when I’m here.”


She took a deep breath and nodded, looking completely knackered. George smiled at me before kissing Angelina’s hair again. “Come on, love. You can do this.”


“I just hope you’re happy with one child because I AM NEVER DOING THIS AGAIN!” she yelled the last part as a contraction took over.


“Okay, the baby is crowning!” I heard the healer call over Angelina’s scream. “Keep pushing, Angelina, you can do this!”


The contraction subsided and the healer looked up at her from between her legs, “One more should do it! Are you ready to meet your baby?” he smiled at her and she actually smiled back at him.


“Are you ready?” she turned to George.


“I was born ready,” he grinned at her and kissed the back of the hand he was holding. She smiled up at him and in that moment I felt like I was intruding.


“Oh, Merlin,” she said and the healer yelled ‘push!’ and there was a moment that seemed suspended in time and in her yell and then Angelina collapsed back onto the bed, her hand going slack around mine and relief on her face. There were some pretty disgusting noises, but no one really paid attention to them. George looked quickly around her legs and the most beautiful expression I’ve ever seen crossed his face. Angelina opened her eyes tiredly and looked down just as the baby let out a shrill cry.


“It’s a boy!” the healer announced, handing the baby to the nurse to clean off. I craned my neck to see my new and first nephew. He was covered in so much blood and other-things-I-don’t-want-to-think-about that I could barely tell what was what, but George rushed over to him and watched the nurse clean him with a look of pride, love, and fascination.  


“What’s he look like? Is he okay?” Angelina asked, sitting up a bit to try to look around the nurse and her husband and trying to be heard over the sound of the baby screeching. I squeezed her hand gently.


No one answered her for a second and then the crying stopped, George bent over the table, stood up, and turned around with a blue bundle in his arms, “He’s perfect.” He said, awed.


“Give him here!” Angelina demanded impatiently. George walked over, for the first time in his life I can describe his actions as careful, and handed their son to Angelina. She took him gently into her arms and her mouth dropped open into a smile. I looked at him properly for the first time; his face was scrunched up and his eyes were closed, but his mouth was opening and closing and his hands were moving up by his face.


He looked just like every other newborn I’d seen except for the light dusting of dark auburn hair on his head.


“He’s so beautiful,” she managed to whisper.


“He is,” I agreed. There was a beat of silence as George and Angelina stared at their baby as if it were the most wonderful being on the planet (in that moment, he was).


“That was the most beautiful experience I’ve ever had,” Angelina sighed happily, still looking at the baby.


My mouth dropped open, “Are you kidding me? You just said two seconds ago –”


“I need a name for the birth certificate,” one of the nurses (probably tactfully) interrupted me.


Angelina and George both looked up at the nurse, then they looked at each other. Angelina nodded slightly and smiled, and George grinned in a not-entirely-happy way, “Fred Gideon Weasley Junior.”


I knew that they’d decided on the name a while back, but it didn’t matter. With the mention of the name, I suddenly felt my late brother’s presence in the room with us. My breath caught in my throat as I looked back down at Fred Junior. I ran my hand gently over the top of his head, “It’s perfect.”




“What are you doing?” Harry asked, amused, as he walked out of the bathroom in his boxers, rubbing a towel through his wet hair.


I paused and looked up at him before shrugging. I was leaning against our headboard with my pajama t-shirt pulled up over my belly, which I was running my hand over gently.


It stuck out enough now that if I stood up straight and looked down I couldn’t see but the tips of my toes over it (and over my boobs, which had definitely gotten bigger). Mum, who had noticed me paying more attention to it at the hospital today, said that it was because ‘I was so small’ that I was showing this early.


“What’s wrong?” he asked as he threw the towel over the door of the bathroom and walked over to slide into bed with me. He threw his arm around me.


“Nothing,” I answered, snuggling into him. “I’m just thinking.”


“About Freddie?” Harry asked. George had said that would be his nickname.


“Yeah,” I said. “And our baby.”


Harry smiled and reached over to put his hand over mine on my stomach. “When is your next appointment?” he asked.


“Thursday,” I answered. I had made one before leaving the maternity ward with the same healer I’d seen before, Healer O’Neill. Even though they were apparently booked until next month, as soon as the receptionist looked up and recognized me a spot surprisingly opened up. I don’t like to capitalize on the fame of my husband or my last name (or my maiden name) but for the health of my baby (and, maybe, because I wanted to know the sex of him/her…) I decided to allow it this time.


Harry was silent for a second before, “I want to come with you, if you don’t mind.”


I adjusted myself so I could grin up at him, “I would love that.”


He kissed my forehead, his green eyes shining. Merlin, I loved this man. “I got an owl back from a contractor about the house,” he told me.




“Yeah. He said that he’d like to look at the place and then try to draw up some plans. He’s free Saturday if you want to come along.”


“I promised Gwenog that I’d be at the game on Saturday,” I told him. My team – my old team – was having their opening game against the Arrows this Saturday and both Birdie and Gwenog had made me swear I’d take advantage of my top box seats to cheer them on.


And, more stressful, it was when my pregnancy was going to be announced for the first time. Harry and I had figured that people would assume all sorts of weird situations when I didn’t start for the Harpies, so we might as well take advantage of the large group and allow Gwenog to announce it before the game. And now that I was showing much more prominently, it was time the news got out.


“I can see if he can meet us on Sunday?”


“You don’t have to –”


“No, I want to go to the game,” he said sincerely. “And, I want you to be there to decide how we build our house.”


“Our house,” I whispered. I couldn’t believe that we were discussing building our house. That our kids would grow up in.


Harry chuckled and kissed the top of my head, “It’s going to be amazing.”


“I love you,” I moved my head to look up at him again.


“I love you,” he grinned back and leaned up to kiss my lips.


I’m pretty sure I’m the luckiest person in the whole world.






Freddie is doing well. It seems like he never sleeps, but that’s okay because even when he does I still don’t. I know that sitting in the recliner by his crib is probably weird, but I just can’t take my eyes off of him. He has this little noise he makes when he sleeps – like a snore, but much cuter – and he twitches his nose every now and then…. Merlin, I sound ridiculous. I’m okay with that, though, because my son is perfect.

Ang is doing well, too. She’s been sleeping more than I have, which is totally fine because I wasn’t the one that grew this little boy in me and then had to push him out. She deserves sleep for doing that. She’s great with Freddie, though. She says that she wants you to come over soon (and I agree), but for now she’s still pretty knackered.

I hope all is well with you and Harry.

Just wait, Gin. When you have your baby you’ll know what I mean. It’s completely magical in ways I didn’t know existed.

Merlin, I’m such a sap. Being a father has turned me soft. Surprisingly, I don’t mind.

Love and all that,


I stared at the letter for a good minute after I finished reading it. My brother, my brother who enjoyed nothing more than a good prank, had become a huge softie. It was adorable. I guess what they say about how ‘having a baby changes everything’ was true.


“Are you ready to go?” Harry poked his head into the kitchen. His green eyes had an excited spark to them.


“George has turned soft,” I told him, holding up the letter.


Harry shot me a confused look before crossing the kitchen to read the letter. His face broke into a smile. When he finished he looked up, “We’re saving this.”




“Because in about six years, when Freddie is Teddy’s age and, at times, he swears he wants to throttle the boy, I want to have this as blackmail.”


I laughed, “You can’t use his emotions as blackmail! We have to encourage this behavior!”


Harry leaned forward quickly, pressing his lips to mine, “I’m going to go put this upstairs and then we need to get going.”


“I think you’re more excited about this than I am!” I called after him. My healer’s appointment was in about fifteen minutes and, honestly, I was more nervous than anything. What if something was wrong? What if they realized that my playing quidditch for those two months actually did cause damage to the baby?


Before I could get too worked up, Harry bounded back into the kitchen, “Okay, ready?”


I nodded and took his hand. We turned on the spot and after the extremely uncomfortable feeling passed, I opened my eyes and saw the normal chaos that was St. Mungo’s. We walked over to the front desk to check in and fill out the appropriate paperwork before sitting in the uncomfortable chairs to wait for my name to be called.


Not surprisingly, we didn’t wait very long; Harry Potter hardly waited for anything (sometimes, much to his annoyance; he just wanted to be treated normally, but people tend to overlook that when you’ve saved the lives of pretty much everyone…).


“Hi, Mr. Potter!” An excited, young intern led us back to our room. “How are you? I really like that shirt on you. I think it looks great with your eyes, you know? Your eyes are so cool, I wish mine were cool instead of this normal, boring brown –”


Harry looked uncomfortable. I coughed loudly. Stupid fangirls. I was his wife for Merlin’s sake and this chick was flirting with my husband right in front of me.


Plus, there was nothing wrong with brown eyes, thank you very much.


“Oh, Mrs. Potter!” she had the tact to look ashamed of herself. Harry tried to hide his smile as I glared at the girl. That’s right, honey, I’m only carrying his last name and his child.


“I think brown eyes are just fine,” Harry grinned, throwing an arm around me and kissing the top of my head. Intern Flirts-A-Lot took a turn to look uncomfortable. Damn straight.


“I didn’t know that you were expecting, Mrs. Potter, I read about your wedding the other week –”


“As disappointing as it might be, we try to keep our personal lives out of the media as much as we can,” I deadpanned.


I hated people who thought they had the right to know everything about Harry, or mine, or Ron and Hermione’s lives just because he/they/we were ‘war heroes.’ It’s not like any of us asked to be thrust into the spotlight, it’s not like Harry asked to be the most attractive man on the planet – it just happened.


“Right, of course,” she looked thoroughly flustered now. Yeah, mess with me. I dare you.


“We’d appreciate if you could keep this information to yourself for the time being,” Harry grinned at the intern. She blushed and I felt a tiny, short moment of pity for her. I’d been on the receiving end of that smile and I knew that you really had no choice but to completely forget everything you were thinking about.


The moment passed and I went back to being annoyed.


“Er- yeah, no problem. I-I wouldn’t ever…. And I have to anyway – patient confidentiality,” she finally stopped in front of a door and opened it. “Here’s your room.”


“Thanks,” Harry removed his arm from my shoulders to follow me through the door. I sat on the patient table and Harry stood beside me.


“Healer O’Neill will be in shortly,” she said. “If you need anything, just call for me. I’m Hayley, by the way.”


“We will,” I told her sharply. She nodded, shot a last smile at Harry, and left, shutting the door behind her. “Oh, Harry, you’re so strong and your eyes are so beautiful! If you need anything – like a massage, a kidney, my virginity – don’t be afraid to call!” I mocked, my voice going high.


Harry’s cheeks heated up and he rolled his eyes at me, “Funny, really.”


You can just throw me on the table and have your way with me! Oh, wait, who’s this redhead you’re standing next to in a maternity ward? Oh, well, she can watch.


“You’re ridiculous.”


“You have fangirls.”


“Shut it,” Harry moaned.


“Only if you shut me up,” I batted my eyes and generally looked annoying.


He shook his head, but dipped down to kiss me quickly anyway. I smiled as he pulled back and took a seat beside me.


Looking at him, with his hair all disheveled, his glasses half-crooked, his green eyes shining happily through them, I felt a sudden rush of affection and, just, rightness. I was about to find out the sex of the baby I was carrying – Harry’s baby – and we were building what would essentially be our dream house. Sure, I’d had to stop playing quidditch but, really, when it came down to it, this was better. Even if the idea of being a mother freaked me out to no end, after seeing Angelina and George look at their baby… I was excited.


Before long, the door to the room opened and Healer O’Neill walked in, “Sorry for the wait,” she flashed us a grin. “Babies wait for no one!”


“Healer O’Neill, this is my husband, Harry,” I introduced them even though I knew it was probably pointless. Everyone and their third cousin once removed knew who Harry was. Harry stood up and offered his hand.


“It’s very nice to meet you,” she shook it. I was grateful that she didn’t freak out, or go all starry-eyed. She was older than we were, and therefore more mature than Intern Flirts-A-Lot, but that also meant that she probably had a more clear and scary recollection of the war. I was glad she was acting normal. I decided again that I really liked her.


“Likewise,” Harry smiled.


“So, Ginny,” she turned back to me. “Looking at your chart, I see that you’re about eighteen weeks along now, right?” I nodded.


“Great, that means that you’re about halfway into your second trimester,” she began. She launched into a bunch of questions about my eating habits (which made me I needed to eat healthier), my sex life (which made Harry blush aborably), and other general questions about my pregnancy. I answered them all as thoroughly as I could in case I wasn’t doing something I should be or was doing something I shouldn’t be (I was very relieved that she didn’t comment on the, erm, fair amount of sex we’d been having…).


After about ten minutes of questions, she flipped back to the first page of her clipboard, “We should be able to tell the sex of the baby today, if you want to know.” She looked from me to Harry.


“We do,” we said in unison.


She smiled at us and went to the cabinet in the corner; I knew from last time that she was pulling out the cool gel that was necessary for the scan. Harry, however, cocked a brow when I laid down and pulled my shirt up and my jeans down a bit.


I laughed, “She has to put the gel on my stomach. It hardens and then they can hook me up to a monitor and see the baby,” I explain.


“Cool,” Harry grinned and stood up. He walked over to me and took my hand as Healer O’Neill squirted the cold gel onto my bare skin. I jumped a bit and she smiled at me, “It’s cold.”


“I noticed,” I smiled back. She used her wand to spread the gel until it encompassed the entirety of my ever-growing stomach.


“We have to wait five minutes to it to harden,” she recited. I nodded. “I’m going to go fetch us a monitor and then I’ll be back.”


“Thank you,” Harry said. He squeezed my hand as the healer left.


“Do you want a boy or a girl?” I asked him.


He looked at me, still smiling, “Would it be completely cliché of me to say I don’t care, I just want a healthy baby?”


I laughed, “A little.” I looked up at him, his green eyes sparkling with happiness and his mouth stretched into a smile as he looked at my bump. “But that’s all I want, too.”


Harry looked back at me and brought my hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “Being here with you, seeing all this equipment and the healer… it makes it real,” he said.


“The morning sickness made it real for me,” I put in.  He nods and I laugh, “No, I know what you mean though. It does seem more real; it probably will after we know what we’re having.”


Harry nods, his face turning solemn, “What?” I ask.


“I hope it’s human,” he looks at me, his face completely serious. I smack the back of the hand that’s holding mine with my other one and he laughs.


He’s still laughing and I’m fighting the urge to join him when the door opens and Healer O’Neill returns pushing a large screen, three cords slung over her shoulder. Harry drops my hand and goes to help her pull the screen over to the side of my bed, “Thanks, dear.” She smiles at him.


Harry takes his place at my side again, opposite the screen. Healer O’Neill is on the other side of the cot I’m lying on. She pokes my stomach with her wand three times and three holes appear in the gel. She plugs the wires that connect to the screen into the holes and then taps the screen with her wand once more before turning to us, a grin in place.


“Are you guys ready?”


I look to Harry, suddenly nervous. Why am I nervous? This makes no sense. Harry squeezes my hand and I feel better. My husband and my baby.


“Ready,” I say. She puts her wand to my stomach and looks at the monitor as she moves it around.


“There’s the head,” she points with her free hand. Harry and I squint at the black-and-white image and, sure enough, the head of our baby is discernable. The profile of his face is clear even in the slightly-poor resolution and I my chest suddenly feels two sizes too small for my lungs. Harry brings my hand back to his mouth and presses a kiss there. I look at him, smiling, almost in disbelief that this is actually happening.


“The heartbeat looks strong,” she comments, moving away from our baby’s head. I want to tell her to go back, I’m not done staring at my baby’s face yet, but I don’t. “Oh, there,” she says suddenly, pointing to what appears to be a random spot on the monitor.


“What?” Harry asks. He sounds worried, but Healer O’Neill turns to look at us with a smile on her face.


“Congratulations,” she says. “It’s a boy.”


And just like that, my eyes tear up. “A boy?”


“A boy,” Harry says in awe. I look up at him and notice that he’s tearing up too. “Gin,” he looks down at me, finally taking his eyes off of the monitor and pulling up a seat and sitting down by my head. “We have a son.”


“We have a son,” I repeat to him, grinning and crying because I’m apparently a huge bloody sap now.


“A son,” he says, again (I’m sure Healer O’Neill is judging our mental capacities at his point, but I don’t give a damn), and leans in to kiss me. It’s a wet kiss because we’re both being stupid and crying, but it’s amazing. He pulls back, still looking at me, “I have the most beautiful family in the world.”


I let out a teary laugh, using my free hand to wipe my eyes. A family. We are a family. Me and Harry and our son.


“Stop it,” I tell him, trying to get a hold of myself. “You’re embarrassing me.”


Harry and Healer O’Neill laugh, Harry squeezes my hand again, and I am fully aware that this is the best day of my life.







A/N: I know, I know, it's been waaayyy too long. I'm really sorry; I've had such bad writer's block on this story and I feel awful. Hopefully the updates will be more regular now, I promise I'll try my hardest.

Thanks to all of you who have stuck with this story throughout that incredbily long wait - you guys are amazing. I can't even say how much I appreciate all of the feedback on all of my stories.

Please, please, please review, even though I'm horrible at updating and don't derseve it.

You guys rock my socks.
over and outt.