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.
“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.
“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.
over and outt.
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