|
Foolish | ||||||
|
Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny, Other Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 713 Summary: Can love survive, no matter what someone does to destroy it? Hitcount: Story Total: 154207; Chapter Total: 6624 Awards: View Trophy Room |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
Chapter Eleven With a Little Help From My Friends Dear Mum and Dad, There has been a new development in my life that- You know how I always said that I wouldn’t leave Quidditch for anything? Ginny glanced tiredly at the clock by the entrance to the kitchen. The sun would be up soon and she was still no closer to finishing the letter to her parents. Groaning, she laid her head back against the arm of the couch, closed her eyes, and envisioned the words she really wanted to put on the parchment: Dear Loving Parents Who Are About to be Completely Blindsided, Not only did I manage to become both homeless and unemployed in the span of a few days, the reason for both of those is that I’m pregnant. That’s right your baby girl is having a baby girl of her own. Your little Gin-Gin is thoroughly and totally knocked up, her innocence lost as it has been for some time. Aren’t you so proud, Dad? And good news, Mum! The baby’s father isn’t involved and it’s not because he’s lying in a grave, but because he is a plague upon decency and wants nothing to do with us. How wonderful! So to review, your only daughter is: 1.) Unemployed 2.) Unwed 3.) And unaccompanied in life by the father of her child But just to ease your minds a little bit, I am no longer homeless because I have decided to live in Hastom for the rest of my life. No, your eyes do not deceive you. Gin-Gin is going to live in the place where trolls go to eat their young, where deadly Inferi sprout up from the ground, and where every unspeakable horror known to man and wizard exists. (Although, I should point out that you were misinformed when you told us that little witches and wizards who didn’t eat every lima bean on their dinner plates were sent to Hastom to eat beans until their bellies burst open.) And did I also mention the very best part? I’ll be sharing a home (and a loo) with none other than Harry Potter for the next six months! Looking forward to the flock of Howlers already making their way to me, Ginny She lifted her head and stared down at her stomach, pushing the fabric of her t-shirt up slightly to reveal the tiny bump that was her baby. “What do you think, sweetheart? A little too on the nose, perhaps?” Her fingers glided over the impossibly smooth skin protecting her child. “I rather think it would be easier for your Gran to hear it all at once instead of dispensing it out piece by piece. That way she’d only have one humungous explosion of anger as opposed to a dozen or so little ones.” Ginny made a small circular pattern over the swell, still a bit surprised to find that it had seemingly popped out from nowhere a few days ago. “And don’t fret over your Granddad having a weak constitution for news like this. He’s no shrinking violet. The man has been married to Molly Weasley for over thirty years. If that’s not a feat of strength, I don’t know what is.” She turned her head to the side, spreading her fingers against the bump. “I know he can handle hearing about you; I just hope he doesn’t…” She couldn’t say the words out loud. Ginny sighed, shifting to sit so her back was against the armrest and setting the pile of mostly-blank parchment on the coffee table. The sunlight slowly began filtering into the room, making the stones of the fireplace sparkle. The dark living room came to life around her. It’s such a lovely home, she thought for what felt like the thousandth time in the three weeks she had been there. A girl could get used to living here. The floorboards above her began to creak and the sound of footsteps lumbering down the stairs followed. She hastily pulled her shirt back down. Ginny sat up to see Harry descending, tousling his bedhead even further. “Morning,” he tried to say around a loud yawn, his eyes barely open. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” He grunted, shuffling into the kitchen. Cupboard doors opened and closed, the faucet turning on and off. A whistle shrieked loudly for a moment and then stopped. Afterwards, Harry reappeared in the living room, carrying two steaming teacups. He handed one to Ginny before sitting in the chair across from her, propping his sock-covered feet on the coffee table, and slumping down into the cushions. “It’s decaf,” he mumbled. “Thank you.” “Welcome.” He took a sip from his mug and made a face. “How on earth can you stand to drink this poison?” “You should have made a pot for just you.” “Sunrise is not conducive to my ability to think.” Grimacing a little, he took another drink. “But really, how can you stomach this stuff?” “I don’t know,” she shrugged, tucking her legs underneath her. “It’s like anything I guess: You find a way to get used to it.” Which was something she had been surprised to find was easy to do when it came to sharing a house with Harry. Of course, there had been a few bumps in the road: the time Ginny’s lacy underthings had been left hanging in the bathroom or Harry’s penchant for blasting the wireless throughout the house late some nights or a dozen other of their individual quirks that they had picked up over the years of living on their own. Harry had never shared a home with a woman since leaving the Dursley’s and Ginny refused to acknowledge her time with Lionel as cohabitation. If she dwelled on it, her two years in his apartment made her feel dirty, like her living with him had been almost a payment for her…services. It was humiliating, but she had come to accept over the past two months what their relationship had actually been and the benefit from it had far outweighed the pain. Now, she was focused on the present and making her living situation with Harry as comfortable for both of them as possible. They were still learning after almost a month together and there were still moments, for both of them it seemed, when the absurdity of the whole thing stifled them for a moment or two. There was nothing scary enough, though, that sent either of them running for the hills. Slowly, Harry peeled his eyes open, taking another sip of his poison. “What are you doing up so early? I thought your appointment with Nell wasn’t until eleven?” “It is.” She nudged the parchment with her toes. “I was trying to take your advice and write to my parents. Tell them about everything’s that happened. It’s just a lot harder to do than I imagined.” “What’s so difficult? You say that you have a new job, a new place to live, and you’re going to be a mum.” He shut his eyes again and rested his head against the side of the armchair. “Easy peasy.” “Oh, you’re right. That is quite simple.” She set her tea down on the side table next to her. “Now try to figure out how I’m going to tell my mother all of that and not the calm, rational woman you’re thinking of.” Harry chuckled softly, keeping his eyes closed. “Point taken.” “Honestly,” she said, all teasing gone, “I’m more worried about telling my dad than my mum. Don’t get me wrong, my mum will go off her rocker and I can already hear how loud she’ll screech the words ‘scarlet woman’ when she finds out, but Dad…” She sighed and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “What?” Ginny glanced over and found Harry a bit more awake, studying her curiously. “What about your father.” She thought before she answered. “Do you remember when we were in Professor Dumbledore’s office after you rescued me from the Chamber, with Ron and my parents?” “Of course.” “That was the first time my father ever yelled at me, about the diary and not telling him about it. He wasn’t angry with me, just scared of what could have happened. I know that now. But at that time, I was only eleven years old and I had disappointed my daddy. That feeling…it almost made me wish, for a second or two, that you hadn’t found me in time.” She stared down at the parchment scribbled with her attempts to come clean to her parents. “I was his princess for as long as I could remember. Even without much money, he doted on me as best he could. Every summer when I was a girl, on my birthday, we’d walk down into town together to get an ice cream, just me and him. He’d get the cheapest thing he could for himself, but I could always get a sundae, with toppings and extra sprinkles. When I turned five, we walked by the toy shop and I saw the most beautiful doll in the world.” She smiled brightly, turning to face Harry again. “She was porcelain with delicate rosy cheeks, long black hair and the softest blue pinafore dress in the world. I pressed my hands and face up the glass and fell in love before my heart broke the next minute. Even that young, I knew we couldn’t afford something as expensive as that doll. My dad pulled me away gently and let me get a sundae and an iced lolly that day to try to make up for it. I didn’t forget the doll, though. Not for a single day. I even named her Anastasia in my mind. And do you know what? That Christmas, Anastasia was all wrapped for me, waiting underneath the tree. I hugged her so tightly I’m amazed she didn’t shatter to pieces in my arms. The boys all got amazing presents too that year: Bill and Charlie both got new brooms; Percy got a cauldron and his first potions kit; the twins each got a bagful of Zonko’s tricks; and Ron got a replica Cannons uniform and tickets to his first game. It wasn’t until years later, we found out what he did to get the money for the gifts.” “What did he do?” “He went to St. Mungo’s and…and signed up to be a test subject for treatments for new curses. They’d launched spells at him and then experiment to see which potions worked the best to heal him. He did that three days a week for a whole month in addition to working extra shifts at the Ministry. All that for two hundred and fifty Galleons that he spent on presents for his children.” “Sounds dangerous,” Harry said softly. Ginny nodded vigorously, swiping a stray tear away. “It was. He was so lucky that there weren’t any long-term side effects. I don’t know how Mum let him go through that just for presents for us. She never did afterwards, not for anything, even school tuition. With her, she was always the one that doled out the punishment. It never felt good to make her angry, but that was what we expected of her. We knew how much she loved us and that we’d be forgiven eventually. Dad has been the steady one, the one who always took it with a grain of salt if we ended up on the roof or splattered paint all over the kitchen. If you did enough to make him upset, you knew you had done something awful. That’s how I saw it.” Harry nodded in understanding. “And if you tell him about what’s happened in the last couple of months with you…” “I don’t think I could bear it if I made him ashamed of me,” she admitted quietly. “That would never happen,” Harry assured her. “He’ll…He’ll be upset, naturally, because-” “Because I’ve made every mistake that life has to offer.” “Because you were suffering and he couldn’t help you. That’s what will crush him,” Harry said stoically, looking away from her wide eyes for a second before looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head slightly and continuing much quieter, “He loves you, very much, and he only wants good things for you. Maybe it’ll take him time to come around, but he’ll see that being here and becoming a mum makes you happy. Happier than he ever thought he’d see you.” He looked back at her and smiled a little. “It wasn’t the plan he had for you in his head. It wasn’t how he wanted your life to turn out. It may even frustrate him to no end and make him angry at the world for letting this happen. In the end, though, you’re one of the biggest pieces of his heart and he’ll find a way to support you through this.” Ginny sniffled, feeling the all too familiar burn behind her eyes. Tears weren’t far off. Oh Harry, she thought, wishing she could conjure a handkerchief for herself. You are the most amazing…amazing friend anyone could ask for. Why did I push you-No! No, that thinking is not appropriate, Ginevra! He is seeing someone else, he is happy, I am a guest in his home, and for the last time, he is seeing someone else. It doesn’t matter how better I feel when he says exactly what I need to hear or how sweet it is when he lets me have the last slice of pudding or how much we laughed last week when Bart tried to explain that ludicrous game of baseball to us. You CANNOT think of him as anything more than a friend! That’s all he wants you to be and you should be thanking every star in the sky that he’ll give you that much after what you did to him. If only her heart could listen to her head. She had naively told herself for so long that she was over Harry and done her best to not let him creep into her thoughts that being around him every day was a bit of a shock to her system. Every day was a reminder of what a wonderful person he was and almost everything he did made the love she felt for him, suppressed and neglected for three long years, swell up inside her until she was afraid it would steal her breath away. Some nights, sitting across from him at the dinner table or secretly watching from the couch with a book in her hand as he Flooed Teddy, the words hammered in her head to the beat of her pulse. Her fingers itched to reach for his hand or run through his fringe. They almost cramped up with the force she used to hold them back. It got to be so much sometimes that she had to leave the room or she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from launching into his arms and sealing her lips to his. She couldn’t though. For one, he would never-could never-feel that way about her after she hurt him the way she did. For another, he was taken. Their meeting hadn’t been under the best of circumstances, but Ginny knew, from all the things she’d heard of her, that Meredith was a good person. She had been with Harry for so long and it now appeared that he was choosing Ginny’s friendship and citizenship over their relationship. It had to be a terrible feeling. It wasn’t true, of course. Harry loved Meredith; Bart had flat out told Ginny so the night Mr. Chornin died. If it came down to a final choice between the two of them, Ginny was sure she’d be the one left by the wayside. And that was…well, not fine, but understandable. A person was truest to the one they loved the most. Meredith would realize that soon enough and in the meantime, Ginny would not add to her or Harry’s burden by making the situation they were in even more uncomfortable than it had to be. The second reason for keeping silent bled right into her third. Because Harry would choose Meredith over her, it would mean Ginny would have to leave Hastom and the life it would offer her baby. This place offered Iris the best chance possible at a happy life, safe from the danger and darkness of the outside world. Growing up, she had seen firsthand that one thing required of a good mother was sacrifice and even if it meant swallowing back her feelings for Harry, Ginny was determined that her daughter would know the wonders of Hastom through her own eyes and not stories from Ginny and Luna. She would find a way to be content in having only Harry’s friendship. No matter how difficult it was at times. Like now, for instance. Ginny forced her lips to curl into a small smile as the tears started to slide down her cheeks. “I…I can’t stand being pregnant sometimes,” she finally managed to say. “I feel like such a girl.” With a loud snort, she wiped her nose with the shoulder of her shirt. Harry’s grin widened. “Really? You hide it well.” Pulling out his wand, he conjured her a box of tissues. “Shut it,” she laughed, feeling some of her tension ease as she dabbed her eyes. “I just mean that my ruddy, uncontrollable hormones are wreaking havoc on me and I do not appreciate it one bit. This baby truly tries my patience sometimes.” “Then she’s definitely her mother’s daughter.” Quickly pushing himself up from the chair, he collected their teacups and walked towards the kitchen. Ginny followed him. “I can make breakfast,” she told him, going to pull out some eggs from the refrigerator. He turned from the sink, eying her quizzically. “Since when?” “I will have you know, Potter, that I have taught myself to make a very delicious omelet. Ron has raved about my cooking to me.” “That’s not saying much, considering I once saw Ron pull a sandwich out of the rubbish bin at work and it eat, even though it had a red blob on it than I cannot say for sure was ketchup.” Ginny rolled her eyes even as her heart ached a little. One other aspect of being around Harry so much was how much it was making her miss her own family. He was so intertwined with memories of her parents and brothers that it brought their faces to the forefront of her mind. She wanted to joke and laugh with her brothers every day and feel her father’s heartbeat as he pulled her in for a tight squeeze. Mostly, she wanted her mother. There were so many questions she had for Molly now: Was all this crying normal? Why was the smell of cooked beef unbearable to her? Why were some of her freckles getting darker? How much would labor really hurt? How would she know what Iris was crying for? How could she take care of a baby when she could barely take care of herself? Every day, a hundred new questions presented themselves that Ginny couldn’t find a suitable answer for. Her mother could, though, if she were here. But she wasn’t. She was traveling the world with her husband and enjoying time away from motherhood after more than thirty years of attending to her children’s’ every need. And her mother deserved it, every second of it, as did her dad. That was another reason why Ginny found it so hard to tell her parents about the pregnancy. They should be out enjoying their time together instead of fretting over the impending motherhood of their youngest. “You,” she told Harry, cracking eggs into a bowl to help keep her melancholy at bay, “should go get ready for work. It’s Friday. Don’t you have to be in early today?” “Yeah, but-wait, how did you know that?” He shut the water off and looked at her again. “You told me that starting this Friday, you’d go into work early and take half days at the end of the week because the Quidditch league here is starting up and you scheduled practices to…” Harry kept staring at her uncomprehendingly and she felt unsure. “What? Do I have egg on my face or something?” “No, no. It’s just…I didn’t think you’d remember, that’s all.” His eyes lit up and he grinned. “Hey, do you want to come?” “Where?” “To practice. It’s perfect, actually. You could help me coach and that could fill your community volunteer work requirement. And the kids would get…” His smile slipped and his shoulders sank. “Wait, no. That’ll be too hard for you, won’t it? I’m such a git. You just had to give up playing Quidditch and now I expect you to-” “No,” she cut him off, picking up a whisk and beating the eggs. “That’s…that’s a nice thought, Harry. It really is. I’d love to see you work with the children and…and be around them myself, too.” The whisk slashed through and around the mixture as Ginny tried to put a voice to her thoughts. “To help coach a team, though, it might be…” “Too hard right now,” Harry finished, “when it’s still so fresh.” She nodded, grateful he understood. “Exactly.” “Well, how about this? You come to the field today, after your appointment, and you just watch for a bit. If you can’t take it, then you come back here and we find another community project for you to help with. But if it’s not and you see that there’s something you can do to help us climb out of third place, then by all means jump in and get your hands dirty.” That sounded fair to her ears. “Okay. I’ll be there.” She headed over to the stove with her bowl. “Uh, Gin?” Turning, she saw Harry holding up a skillet with one hand. Looking at the empty stove, her cheeks turned bright red. With her head held high, she walked over to Harry and took the skillet graciously. “This is much easier with magic.” “I’ll take mine with Swiss cheese, if it’s not too much trouble,” he said walking backwards out of the kitchen. At the entrance, he spoke again. “And Ginny?” “Yes?” “Helps if the stove is turned on.” He smiled with his whole face and headed back upstairs. “You’re a prat sometimes, Harry Potter,” she said to herself when she was absolutely sure he was completely out of earshot, “But I do love you.” It wasn’t the same as saying the words to his face, but it was better than keeping them bottled inside. ****** Later that afternoon, Ginny lay back on the exam table in Nell’s cozy office, swinging her legs back and forth idly as she waited for her friend to come in the room. It was the first ultrasound today, the first look she’d get at the little person growing inside her, and she found it difficult to contain her excitement. She propped an arm behind her head and looked at her stomach through the hole in the thin gown she wore. “You would think being good friends with my healer would have its perks. Surprisingly, it does not. She’s still going to keep me in her office alone, fifteen minutes after my appointment is supposed to start even when the waiting room was empty upon arrival. Maybe that’s just something they drill into your head when you become a healer. Maybe even-” The door creaked open and Nell crept in. “Sorry,” she apologized quietly. “So sorry about that. I just…I got caught up in some paperwork.” Without really looking at Ginny, she went to the cupboard and started pulling things out in preparation for the exam. “That’s fine,” Ginny said, still swinging her legs a little. “A healer’s job is not complete unless her patient has been kept waiting for a few extra minutes. We were having a little chat about that before you walked in.” Nell barely glanced over her shoulder. “Who were you talking to?” Ginny patted her bare belly and smiled. “One of many mother and daughter chats we’ve been having. This baby is a really excellent listener.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, stilling her legs. “That’s not weird, is it? I mean, other women talk to their unborn babies, right?” The healer’s face tightened sharply for barely a second before schooling itself. “Yes, I’ve seen some patients do that. Everyone’s different, I suppose.” Nell turned away, keeping her back to her friend. Ginny studied her carefully, noting how tense her shoulders seemed and how quiet she was being. “How have you been feeling lately? Anything unusual you want to discuss?” “The nausea has gone away for the most part,” Ginny said slowly, “except when I’m around beef so I just try to avoid the stuff. I’m not as tired anymore either. There are a few freckles on my shoulders that are getting darker, though.” “It’s a hormone increase. If you avoid staying out in the sun or use sunblock, it’ll stop. The skin will lighten again after you…you give birth,” Nell replied clinically, still not facing Ginny. “Have you had any cramping or spotting?” “None. Nell, is everything al-?” “Legs in the stirrups, please.” Nell turned and helped Ginny place her legs in the strange metal contraptions. The quill and Ginny’s chart hovered nearby. “This will be quick, but a little uncomfortable. There are some things we can’t do with magic.” Avoiding her eyes, Nell performed the physical examination as swiftly as possible while Ginny winced against her probing fingers. When it was finished, Nell removed her gloves and did a thorough Cleaning Charm on her hands. Biting her lip, she placed her cleans hands on Ginny’s stomach and felt it gently, her mouth set and eyes straight ahead. “Uterus feels healthy,” she said to herself. Taking out her wand, she waved it over Ginny slowly, studying the colors that appeared over her form as she did. What’s going on? Ginny thought, flabbergasted at her friend’s behavior. This wasn’t the Nell Nixon she had come to think of as a sister over the past month and a half. This woman wasn’t filling up the room with her brightness and spirit; this woman wasn’t joking with her about how fat her ankles were going to get in the coming months; this woman didn’t look ready to lend a sympathetic ear to the problems, however grave or minute, Ginny faced on a daily basis. This was someone else entirely. “Nell,” she tried again, growing worried, “is there something that you want to talk about?” “Shh!” Nell replied quickly. “I’m trying to concentrate.” She looked away to see the notes the quill was making. An icy hand wrapped itself around Ginny’s lungs and fear overwhelmed her. Vaguely, she registered some of the colors near her chest darken from pink to crimson. In a near panic, she blurted out, “Is the baby alright?!” Her hand automatically went to her belly, a million shards of agony stabbing at her heart. Her friend whipped towards her, mouth hanging open in shock, a hint of her true self peeking through the cool exterior. “Of course it’s alright! Why would you think something like that?” “Because of how you’re acting!” Ginny sank onto the bed in relief, her racing pulse slow to calm down even as the crimson hue that represented her heart faded. Anger flared in the pit of her stomach as she thought of what her friend’s behavior had just put her through. “What on Earth is going on with you today?! Did something happen with Bart or to you? If you tell me, I can try to help.” Guilt washed over the other woman’s face. Nell’s lips moved up and down, aching to say something, but before they could, the healer looked back at her chart and continued moving the wand over her patient. “Everything is fine. Your...the fetus is in perfect health and-” “The baby!” At her wit’s end, Ginny leapt forward and took her stunned friend by the shoulders, shaking her a bit. “The baby, Nell! It’s not a fetus, it’s the firstborn child of one of your best friends. It’s the baby that you’ve been helping me take care of all this time, the same baby who wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you being in Healer Smythe’s office that day.” Ginny’s anger and face softened as Nell’s began to crumble. “Please, I beg of you. Just tell me what happened so I can help you sort it all out.” The sob escaped Nell’s throat before her hand could trap it in her mouth. Another followed it and the tears followed immediately. Burying her head in Ginny’s shoulder, she cried painfully. “Oh, dear girl,” Ginny whispered, wrapping her arms around Nell and swallowing her own tears back. There was no time for them now. It was her turn to be the strong one in this friendship. Maneuvering Nell to sit beside her, Ginny pulled her close and let her cry without interruption. She stroked her braided brown hair and rocked her side to side, murmuring words of comfort into her ear, hoping that some of them were getting through. Finally, after a short time that felt like hours, Nell’s cries began to ease a bit. She slowly lifted herself from Ginny’s shoulder and took in a few shuddering breaths. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely. “I’m so sorry. That was so abhorrently unprofessional of me.” Ginny plucked a tissue from the counter next to her and carefully wiped away the moisture from the other woman’s face. “I promise to forgive you if you tell me what’s wrong.” Nell hung her head down. “It’s too hard to say out loud.” “I beg your pardon?” Ginny tilted her friend’s chin back up with her fingers. “Do I need to list the things you’ve pulled out of me that I had no interest in discussing with anyone else? Take your own advice and talk about whatever is going on. You’ll be amazed at how much better you feel.” Grasping her hand tightly, Nell turned her red-rimmed eyes to Ginny. “I-I’m angry with you right now and…and I don’t want to be,” she admitted shamefully. “So now I’m just pissed as hell at myself.” “Why? What did I do to upset you so much?” Ginny wracked her brain to find an answer, but couldn’t see a clear one. “That,” Nell replied, looking down at Ginny’s stomach before pulling her eyes away and prattling, “You get to have a ba-baby and I don’t and I am mad at you for that, except I’m really not. I just want to be because it’s easier to be angry at you than it is to hate the person I really want to, which is utterly irrational and unfair to you and if you want to find a new healer, I can speak to the Council and arrange for you to-” “Wait, wait. Slow down” Ginny held up her hand to stop her rambling. “Go back a sentence or two. What do you mean I get to have a baby and you don’t?” “Precisely that.” Ginny cursed Fate for dealing such a wonderful woman a cruel hand. “You mean you and Bart can’t…?” She trailed off, uncertain of what words were appropriate to use. “There’s nothing magical that can help either of you with, uh, what the physical…issue is?” Nell began chuckling to herself and shaking her head back and forth. “What? What did I say wrong? You’re the expert here, not me. I’ve always been a bit squeamish in this area.” Her laughter faded into a sigh. “That’s the funny thing,” she said, her voice stronger and clearer, the Nell that Ginny had come to hold so dear resurfacing fully. “There is no physical problem. I could probably go home right now, take my husband to bed, and conceive a child with ease. I am just married to someone who has no interest in seeing that happen.” “Bart? Bart doesn’t want children?” “No, he doesn’t and that point was made extremely clear to me last night.” “What did he do?” Rolling her eyes, Nell continued, “I admit some of this mess is my own doing. Before he and I got married, we talked about children and we both said that we wanted to wait a long time, if at all, before we had them. We were both just barely in our twenties when we said our vows and I honestly didn’t think I’d want children until I was in my thirties or even my forties. Growing up, I always was more interested in being Healer Thewes —and now Healer Nixon — than I was in being Mummy. Does that make sense?” “Replace healer with Quidditch star and you and I were in the same boat not that long ago. Go on.” “I mean, I’ve always loved kids and babies. That’s why I made Obstetrics and Pediatrics my two areas of expertise. I just never thought I’d really want any of my own. Then I met Bart; even though I still believed that I wouldn’t have any children, this beautiful little boy with Bart’s smile and my nose would pop up in my dreams every once in a while.” She squeezed Ginny’s hand again. “And then I met you.” “Me?” “Yes, you. I would see witches in Healer Smythe’s office come in with stories or situations a lot like yours sometimes. Nearly every one of them chose to end the pregnancy rather than upset their lives. Not you, though.” Slowly, she reached out and put her hand on Ginny’s belly, smiling sadly. “You knew that keeping this little one would cause you untold headaches and frustrations and you did it anyways. You loved this baby and wanted it desperately, even in the most imperfect circumstance imaginable and it made me start to think for the first time about how truly perfect my own circumstances were: Wonderful husband, good job, a lovely home. My heart turned a corner and that little boy has been in my dreams countless times since then.” She sighed wistfully. “I’ve tried to ease Bart into considering having children. You know, dropping hints or comments to try to get the conversation started so he didn’t feel like I was ambushing him with this. It is quite bit ahead of our schedule, after all. That strategy failed, though. My husband is a bit-” “Dense?” Ginny volunteered. “No, not dense,” Nell disagreed. “Don’t get me wrong, he plays it that way most of the time, but he’s a terribly smart bloke. Remember, he was an Infiltrator in the States, and you can’t stay alive at that without the brains to back it up. He’s just…crafty. He knows how to spin conversations and situations to his advantage to get what he wants. And what he wanted was, apparently, to never discuss having children. Last night, after he got in late from the pub, I finally flat out told him we were going to talk about having a baby. He gaped at me like a landlocked fish for a few seconds before he shut his eyes and started shaking his head; then he grabbed a coat and Apparated away without a word. The look on his face told me everything.” She shrugged helplessly. “The man I love more than anything in this life doesn’t want to have a child with me.” “Why not? He seems like he would be an amazing father. One of those silly dads that get down on the floor and makes goofy faces for hours on end with their children.” “He does seem like that, doesn’t he?” Nell smiled tearfully. “You’ve seen what a brilliant man his life has molded him into: how outgoing he is, how charming, how protective he is of people he loves. Those are the good things that were born from his upbringing, that’s what he lets you see. But I get to see the pain behind it all.” She grimaced and shook her head. “Bart had an…unimaginable childhood. Harry’s told me about living with the Dursleys and as horrible as they were, I still think Harry was luckier to have them than to have what Bart had.” “Did they abuse him?” Ginny asked, repulsed at the thought. “Not physically. They abandoned him when he was a little boy. He was completely on his own when he went off to school to study magic. In the States, they send magical children earlier than they do here; Bart went when he turned eight years old. He’s had no contact with his parents since then. Can you imagine? Being only eight years old and having no family or home to go back to? Not even a roof and a bed to sleep in?” “No,” she said, leaning her head onto Nell’s shoulder tiredly. Nell rested her own head on Ginny’s. “I don’t like thinking people are capable of something that atrocious.” “Well, they are. My husband’s proof enough. If I ever come across them…” “But why did they leave him in the first place?” It was a struggle for Ginny to understand. She had never held her daughter or seen her face, yet she knew that the only force in the world that could ever cause her to leave Iris behind was Death itself. And it wasn’t as if Bart’s parents were similar to Lionel; he had cast his daughter aside without even seeing her, but Mr. and Mrs. Nixon (if that was even their surname; perhaps Bart had changed his so that last link to his mother and father was broken) had, it seemed, raised their son for eight long years before pushing him away. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t right. Parents shouldn’t leave their children unless they’ve got to. Ginny raised her head to face Nell, hoping for some semblance of a reasonable answer, but Nell only shook her head. “I’ve already said too much,” she told Ginny. “Bart doesn’t like people to know about his past. I think he’d rather just not think of it himself. He wouldn’t even talk about it during his petition for citizenship. It almost cost him living in Hastom and he still wouldn’t discuss it. To nearly sacrifice living here because he can’t come to grips with the fact he’s a person whose parents didn’t love him is one thing, but to sacrifice a chance for us to have a family…” She slapped the table in a fit, the paper crinkling angrily. “I could wring his neck into knots right now, that cowardly, idiotic-” “Switzerland.” Nell blinked at Ginny, who only shrugged. “It cuts both ways, luv. If Harry and I can’t put the two of you in the middle of our messes, it’s out of bounds for you as well.” She leaned her head against Nell’s shoulder again in support. “You need to talk to your husband. Preferably when you’ve calmed down a touch.” “I know. That won’t be easy, though. Bart sent me a letter this morning to tell me he’ll be away for a few days, maybe a whole week. Klaus will handle the pub while he’s gone.” “What is he doing?” “He didn’t see fit to tell me. I don’t even know if he’s in the country. He still has a few hidey-holes scattered across the globe from his days as an Infiltrator.” “That’s all his letter said? He’ll be off somewhere doing something and the German bartender will handle his business affairs?” “No,” Nell whispered. “He also said he was sorry and that he loved me to the ends of the Earth.” Ginny wrapped both arms around Nell’s shoulders and pulled her in for a tight squeeze. “You married a very complicated man.” “I did.” She clung to Ginny’s arm. “We fell in love and we got married. The baby in the pram comes next. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right?” “Babies don’t do what we think they’re supposed to do. They come into our lives at their choosing, whether we’re ready for them or not; whether we have everything in order or if we’re stumbling through it as we go.” “Wow.” Nell pulled away and smiled sadly. “You sound just like a mum.” She unwound their bodies and took one of Ginny’s hands, giving it a quick kiss on the palm. “You’re not bad at this whole friendship business either.” Standing up slowly, she put a restraining hand on Ginny’s shoulder, easing her back down to lie on the table. “The appointment isn’t over yet. One last thing to do.” “No.” Ginny tried to sit up only to have Nell push her back down. Like so often happened in her life lately, her heart wanted two different things: she did not want to further cause her good friend any undo pain, but there was such a deep yearning in her soul to see her baby for the first time, to know her child as something more than a barely-there bulge on her stomach. Feebly, she tried to sit again. “We…you don’t need to do this today. I can wait until you feel better.” “Oh, Ginny. That’s so sweet of you. Remind me, though, where did you train as a healer again? I’ve completely forgotten.” “Hey, I’m just-” “I know,” the healer said with a small smile, “and I appreciate it, but we really do need to do this. It’s time to get a good look at what you’re cooking in that oven. Make sure everything is in its proper place and growing on schedule. Okay?” Ginny nodded, hoping that Nell knew what her own limits were. With her wand, Nell summoned a small glass orb into her free hand. “This is used to store the recording of the image. We can keep filling it the more scans we take. It works the same way as the audio recording of the heartbeat.” Giving the orb a tap with the wand tip, she released it and watched it float in place next to her. “There’s one more thing before we start: Fourteen weeks is early, but if the baby’s in a good position, I might be able to take a guess at the gender. If I can, do you want to know for certain?” Ginny only shook her head. “There’s no need. She’s a girl.” “You sound confident.” “I’m not confident, just right. I’ve known in my heart that she’s a girl from the moment I knew I was keeping her. I even know her name.” “Care to share?” Ginny opened her mouth, but something, a strange instinct she didn’t understand yet still embraced, held her back. Nell patted her shoulder at the sign of her hesitation. “You don’t have to. I was just curious.” “I think,” Ginny said slowly, “that…that it’s just supposed to be between me and her now.” “That’s fine. So if I do get an idea from this viewing if you need blue or pink wallpaper for the nursery, I should keep it to myself?” “Can you?” “I’ve been doing this for years, thank you very much. Lots of parents like to be surprised until the delivery. Though truthfully, when there are only two options, it isn’t much of a surprise. I’ve kept my lips sealed about the question of ‘willy or no willy’ countless times. Trust me.” “Always,” she said simply, relaxing back into the table. Nell murmured under her breath and traced the tip of the wand from the orb to Ginny’s bare stomach. The lights in the room dimmed as the orb glowed bright red and Nell began tracing the wood over Ginny’s skin, a cool, tickling sensation washing over her belly. Finally, Nell stopped her motions. “Aperio,” she whispered. A foot above Ginny’s stomach, a crystal-clear image materialized. All Ginny could make out from her view was a bulbous, nearly-translucent ball. Cupping her hand gently under the bottom of the image, Nell rotated it to allow Ginny to see a full view. “Say hello to Mummy, little one.” A band of Harpies fanatics could have stormed into the room at that moment and Ginny would have been an oblivious sitting duck to their autograph requests. A parliament of owls could have dropped thousand-pound satchels of Galleons at her side and Ginny wouldn’t have noticed. Harry could have walked in and knelt down beside her, thrusting a glittering diamond towards her, speaking of his everlasting love for her and all Ginny would have been able to do was tell him to be quiet. The whole of the world was in front of her, so tiny and fragile surrounding a rapid beating heart and…and… “Is she moving?” Ginny heard herself ask in awe. She watched as the baby stretched her body, no bigger than a clenched fist, and unmistakably flutter her little arms and legs. “She’s moving! My baby can move! How come I can’t feel her?” “You will,” Nell promised, studying the image closely. “Most first-time mothers don’t feel the movement until around eighteen weeks. Just have a little patience.” Ginny reached forward and brushed a trembling finger over the back of Iris’s wispy head, wishing she could feel her baby’s flesh. They both watched as the baby continued to squirm and wiggle. “This baby won’t make you wait long. I haven’t seen one this active in a long time.” “She’s beautiful. So beautiful…” No longer was she an idea or a concept far off in the future or a tiny heartbeat that lulled her to sleep at night, Iris was here in front of her and more real than Ginny had ever imagined her to be. A door in her soul opened and Ginny walked through it willingly, knowing she’d never be on the other side of it again. She had been so sure she had understood how deeply she could love her child, so sure she knew the capacity of her own heart to feel love and give it freely. She had been such a fool. Every day, she fell deeper in love, with both Harry and her daughter, but unlike Harry, she could let the love she felt for her baby flourish and run free as opposed to working every day to constrain it. Looking through clear eyes at the still-growing form of her daughter, Ginny felt the very last invisible restraints chaining her heart fall away, giving it over to Iris completely. She now truly and totally loved her baby with her whole heart. It was wonderful, awful, exhilarating, terrifying, joyous, and plummeting all the same time. It was also right. Mother loved daughter and daughter, in her own nebulous way, hopefully loved mother. The euphoria of her epiphany was shadowed by the unmistakable flash of pain she glimpsed on Nell’s face as the healer looked wistfully at the tiny life in front of her. Placing her hand on Nell’s wrist, she clasped it gently. “He’ll find his way to you,” she told her friend, not sure if she meant Bart or the little boy haunting Nell’s dreams of late. “Just give him some time.” ****** Stepping off the bridge that led to the small wooded island across from Harry’s property, Ginny trudged down the dirt path, the sun beating on her back, her head and heart full of pain for her two friends. It was easy to sympathize with Nell’s agony over wanting to have a child. How could she not when she understood firsthand the sometimes bliss-like state of being that was becoming a mother? On the other hand, knowing a hint of the horrors that Bart had faced in his early life, it wasn’t difficult to argue his side of the case. Someone who may never have known what it was like to receive a kiss or cuddle from his own parents couldn’t be expected to be fearless or eager when it came to the subject of having a child of his own. Ginny hoped they could find a way through this together. It would be a shame if someone as built for motherhood as Nell was denied the chance, but it would be a crime to let a love like the one Nell shared with her husband mutate into something unrecognizable. It wasn’t out of the question. Love could morph so easily into darkness if left unchecked. She understood that firsthand… ****** Ginny glanced around The Three Broomsticks again, hoping that in the last thirty seconds or so, Harry had materialized in the Saturday afternoon lunch crowd. It was the February Hogsmeade weekend and they had plans to spend the day together. With company, of course. “Stop worrying, he’ll be here,” Ron said around a full bite of chips from his place across the table from her, squeezed tight against Hermione in the booth they shared. “He just got held up at work.” “You got here almost an hour ago,” she replied, using her fork to dig around a pile of barely eaten mashed potatoes. “Well, they don’t need me as much as they need him. He’s the future of the Auror Department, everyone there says so. They’re already talking quietly about how long it’ll be until he takes over as Head.” “That’s ridiculous,” Ginny scoffed. “He’s not even nineteen yet. They shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on him. Harry needs to be normal for a while, not be saddled with a brand new pile of expectations to meet.” She stabbed her fork through a crisp piece of fish. Hermione smiled in sympathy. “Harry’s never going to be just ‘normal,’ Ginny, no matter how much he, or any of us who love him, wants that. He killed the darkest wizard to ever exist. People will still be in awe of him generations from now. There will always be things expected of him in this world. He needs to learn to accept that or it’ll drive him-” The witch bit down on her lip and looked at her own plate. Ron threw his girlfriend a sideways glance that his sister wasn’t supposed to see. Ginny rolled her eyes. “You can say ‘crazy’ in front of me, Hermione. I won’t go into a fit or anything.” It wasn’t the first time people watched their words around her and it was growing ever more bothersome, especially with how much better she was feeling day to day. “No one thinks you were crazy. You’ve had a difficult year, we all have. Everyone just wants you to focus on moving forward, that’s all.” Ron and Hermione both went back to their meals while Ginny pushed her own plate away and folded her arms on the table, listening for the door to open until Hermione spoke up again. “Your tryout is next week, right?” Ginny nodded and despite her anxiety, she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. In just a week’s time, she could be signed up to play for the greatest team in professional Quidditch, a girlhood dream on the cusp of coming true. Ron shook his head at her. “I still don’t understand why you declined to meet with the recruiter from the Cannons. The papers said they were willing to offer you almost double what the Harpies quoted you.” “Because unlike you,” she said sweetly, “I have a few qualms about supporting a team with such an aversion to winning.” Hermione tried to hold in her laughter as Ron’s face turned bright red. “Yeah, well,” he stuttered, “they’ve been having a couple of, what do you call them? Rebuilding seasons. That’s all.” “A couple of decades worth, you mean.” “Just wait until your match against them,” Ron continued with a feral grin. “See how many times you get the Quaffle past the hoops when Prosentington is guarding them right in front of you.” “What you should be focused on,” Hermione piped in, “is studying. N.E.W.Ts will be here before you know it and you’ve hardly spent any time in the library.” “You would know. Madame Pince is going to start having to leave a cot for her in there,” Ginny told Ron. “Really?” “Well, I need to get the extra work in. There isn’t much time left.” “Hermione, how much more studying do you need? You properly corrected Professor Flitwick in Charms the other day. He told you so in front of the entire class.” “Precisely! That man has been reviewing my Charms work for almost a decade. Goodness knows how many errors he’s let me make in that time!” The Weasley siblings laughed at Hermione together. Ron pulled her close to his side for a kiss to her head. The sight made Ginny’s heart ache a little and she turned away from it. The door opened just as she did and she got her first in-person glimpse of Harry’s flawless green eyes since the Christmas holidays. Without a word, she leapt out of her seat and made a beeline towards him, throwing herself into his welcoming arms and wrapping her legs around his waist, not caring who saw them together at the moment. Harry seemed equally pleased to see her. His arms crushed her to him and he buried his face in the juncture between her neck and shoulder, inhaling her scent loudly. “I missed you,” he murmured tiredly. “You have no idea.” “I could probably take a guess,” she teased, pulling back to look in his eyes. Stroking the rough stubble across his cheeks, she leaned in and took possession of his mouth. He gave into her gladly and it wasn’t until the catcalls and whistles started ranging down around them that she allowed herself to pull back, taking in a deep breath of air and smiling at the deep look of joy washing over his face. “I love you,” she said loud enough for his ears only. “I love you, too,” he replied, pulling her close again. “Oi Potter!” She turned her head to the side to glare at her brother. “This is a family establishment with a member of her,” he jerked his head towards Ginny, “family present. Do you mind?” Hermione slapped his arm viciously. Ginny turned back to Harry. “Come on. I ordered you the Shepard’s Pie with onions and no peas.” He glanced back at the door for a second before plastering a smile on his face. “Sounds great. I’m starving.” Releasing her carefully, they walked back to the secluded booth Madame Rosmerta had set aside for them to join Ron and Hermione, Ron still looking a little green around the gills. Hermione leaned over the table to give Harry a quick hug and peck on the cheek. Pulling away, she frowned at him. “You look haggard, Harry.” “I’m fine,” he said woodenly, his eyes flashing at his old friend. “Just had a long day at work.” Sitting next to Ginny, he took her hand in his underneath the table. “What were you three talking about?” Hermione looked ready to continue questioning him, but Ron broke in, overly cheerful, “Just Ginny’s terrible, ill-conceived decision to align herself with a group of overrated, haughty witches as opposed to joining a real Quidditch team.” “Your tryout next week?” He asked her. She nodded in confirmation. “Let me know the exact time, I think I can talk McGonagall into letting me come watch in the stands with her.” “Oh Harry, you don’t have to.” She gave him a kiss far too chaste for her liking, but she didn’t want to scar Ron too badly. He kept his face close to hers. “Tell me when it is. I’ll be there with bells on and a sack of Galleons in case someone requires a bribe. Not that I’ll need it. Aurors are just taught to be prepared.” She melted against him, reveling in the sound of his heart beating against his chest. He was perfection personified. Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably. He looked as if he he’d rather not say anything. “Um, mate, not that I don’t think it’s great that you want to be there to support Gin and all, but don’t we have an exam next week on the day of her tryout?” “I’ll take it another time,” Harry brushed him off, tightening his grip around Ginny’s hand. He looked down into her quizzical eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Seeing you make the Harpies is more important to me than taking a test.” Before Ginny could say that his career was just as important as hers, Hermione spoke up. “Harry, you can’t think like that! If you fail even one exam in your training, they could hold you back or even remove you from the program.” “That won’t happen, Hermione.” He laughed humorlessly. “I’m the bloody Boy Who Lived; do you really think they’d chuck me if I failed one lousy exam?” “Maybe not,” she eyed him coolly, “though in conjunction with a couple of your more questionable arrests, you might force them to have to at least consider it.” Ginny raised her head in alarm. What arrests? Nothing in any of Harry’s letters had given any indication of problems with his work. Harry glared at Hermione until he decided to cast his ire on his other best friend. “Guess some of us don’t like to keep our traps shut, do they?” he asked Ron coldly. All of the ease and happiness of an afternoon together as friends left the group in a rush of air. “You only made me promise not to say anything to your girlfriend. You never said anything about what I could or couldn’t tell mine.” “Harry.” Ginny tugged on his arm to try and get him to look at her. “What’s going on? What’s been happening at work? Have you-?” “You’re supposed to have my back,” he continued to Ron. “We’re partners! I’m supposed to be able to trust you!” “Like I’m supposed to be able to trust you to be safe out in the field instead of rushing headlong into situations without any kind of back up or authority!” “Forgive me for wanting to go out and actually stop criminals instead of hiding in a corner and waiting for someone to come along and do the work of saving other people for me. Oh, forgive me. I forgot who I was talking to for a second!” Without another word, Harry slid out of the booth and strode out of The Three Broomsticks. Ginny immediately got up to follow him. When she was on her feet, she faced Ron and Hermione again. “I-I don’t…”she tried to say, completely at a loss for what had just happened in front of her own eyes. Hermione, though clearly upset, nodded at her. Ron was staring straight ahead, growing maroon with rage. “Go after him,” Hermione commanded softly, taking one of Ron’s tight hands in hers. “It’s alright, we’ll be fine. He needs you now.” Ginny turned on her heel, grabbing her jacket and struggling to put it on as she raced out the door. The wind lashed at her face when she stepped outside, her head swinging back and forth to try to find Harry. She prayed he hadn’t Apparated away. She’d hate to have to explain to McGonagall why she had left Hogsmeade without permission. When she took her first step forward, Harry’s voice called out to her wearily. “I’m over here, Ginny.” Whirling around, she found him leaning against the side of the building, the structure appearing to be the only thing holding him up. His whiskered face was drawn and haunted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the lunch.” Without a word, she went and wrapped her arms around him. He gripped her even tighter than he did in the inn. “What’s wrong, luv?” she asked gently. “Please tell me.” “I’m just…I don’t like being away from you so much,” he admitted into her hair. Ginny frowned against his chest. “You’re the best part of me and it’s hard being apart from that for so long.” It was frightening for her to hear those words, even more when she realized how much he meant them. “Well,” she said, pushing her fears deep down inside her heart, “I’ll only be in school a few more months. We can manage until then. You’re pretty hard too be without to, you know.” “Really?” “Of course.” She pulled her head back and gave him the most comforting smile she could manage. “I love you as much as you love me. You know that, don’t you?” Harry stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. “It’s nice when you remind me.” Turning her head, she kissed his palm. They were in their own little world, oblivious to the people all around them, and it was the only place in the world Ginny wanted to be. Everything made sense as long as they were together. “Do you want to go back inside?” she asked hesitatingly after a few moments. She’d rather stay as they were, but Ron and Hermione deserved an apology. “Not now,” Harry said. His eyes were full of remorse. “I’ll talk to them both later, I promise. Right now, I just want to be with you while we have the time.” “Okay,” she agreed and tugged him away from the wall. Together they walked quietly down the streets. They didn’t speak, despite all the questions and concerns muddling Ginny’s thoughts. He was keeping things, important things, from her that much was clear, but how much exactly? What was he so afraid of? That she would be angry? That she’d be embarrassed by his need for help? That she’d leave him? That would never happen. A flash of bright sunlight bouncing out of a store window got caught in Ginny’s eye and she raised her hand to shield herself from it. She turned to the source. “What is it?” Harry asked. He looked at the store she was staring at and tugged her closer to get a better look. With her vision clear, Ginny saw that they were standing outside of the storefront of the local jeweler and she was able to get a good look at what had temporarily blinded her. “It’s a persem diamond,” she breathed, edging closer to the window to better see the brilliant, sparkling piece of jewelry. “I’ve never seen one up close before.” “It’s special?” Harry asked, bending his head so it was close to hers to examine the small ring that held the diamond. The ring sat on a velvet pillow surrounded by tiny, multicolored crystals that allowed the light of the diamond to bounce and play around the tiny window. “Extremely and rare as well. This must cost more than most houses.” “What’s so special about it?” “The diamond has the ability to be infused with love,” Ginny told him. “When someone buys it, they spend months working with the jeweler to magically transfer their essence into the diamond. They think of the one they love, the one who will own that ring, and by using the feelings those memories respond to, the diamond literally holds the love that person feels. But it’s tricky. The jeweler crafting it has to be absolutely convinced of the person’s love or he won’t begin the process. It’s said to be extremely draining, even painful at times. If the person doesn’t love the recipient with their whole heart, the magic doesn’t work. When it’s completed and the recipient puts it on, they’re able to carry that love with them wherever they go and it lasts for eternity.” “How do you know about all this?” “My grandmother’s great grandmother had a persem diamond. The story was passed down the family. My Gran said that when her husband died, her great grandmother’s ring went dull inside.” “Sounds like heady magic.” “In the Wizarding world, a persem diamond is one of the ultimate symbols of devotion.” Ginny glanced over to find Harry staring intently at the ring. Her stomach fluttered with the speed of a hummingbird’s wings, but she tamped it down as she tugged him away from the window to continue their quiet walk together. She dismissed her thoughts as silly flights of fancy as she nestled herself into his side again. He couldn’t love her that much. It wasn’t possible. ****** Ginny was startled from her musings by the wild laughter and whooping that could only come from small children, beckoning her closer. She finally saw the end of the path and walked towards it, coming out to see an enormous Quidditch field, complete with stands nearly identical to the ones from Hogwarts. High above her, ten children of varying ages were flying in a race around the length of the stadium. Squinting her eyes, she could just make out a familiar streak of black hair at the front of the pack. With a happy smile, she walked ahead until she was standing on the field underneath the group. They flew a few more laps before a whistle blew and the lot of them began descending to the ground. The kids stood together in a bunch, windswept and sweating in their t-shirts and shorts. They smiled and giggled at her, whispering behind their hands Harry went right over to her, smiling brightly. “You came! I wasn’t sure if you would or not.” “I needed to see for myself your prowess as a Quidditch coach,” she said. He nodded and faced his team, pulling her a little closer to them. “Everyone, I would like you to meet Ginny Weasley. Ginny, I would like you to meet the team that’s going to crush the rest of the Hastom Quidditch League come September.” “Hi,” she waved to them. “Hello,” they called back, some waving back with their whole arm and other shying away slightly. “What would you guys think of Ginny here helping to coach you guys this year? Doesn’t that sound great?” A small hand popped up the air, bobbing up and down. “Coach Potter! Coach Potter!” “Yes, Zoey?” A little girl with brown pigtails and a front tooth missing edged her way to the front of the group. “My mummy said that that lady was going to have a baby and my daddy said that when there’s a baby in your belly, you are NOT supposed to fly. Is that true?” Ginny’s face reddened and Harry coughed throatily. “Uh, yes Zoey. That is, um, all true.” “So how can she help us win if she can’t fly?” an older boy asked doubtfully, leaning on his broomstick. She raised an eyebrow at the arrogant little smirk on his face. “I’ve got this, Harry,” she said, holding her hand up to stop Harry from speaking. Walking closer, she paced the length of them, eyeing them critically. “How many of you have been coached by Gwenog Jones, the only member of the Quidditch Hall of Fame to be inducted when she was still a player? How many of you have trained in every kind of weather imaginable, with broken fingers and cuts that needed stitches, from sun-up until sundown? How many of you have ever played on a World Cup team that won against the most-heavily favored team Bulgaria has ever produced?” “You flew against Viktor Krum?” the same boy asked, his jaw hanging open. His teammates faces were alight with excitement and envy. “I did,” she shrugged. “But if you don’t think a pregnant, grounded witch can be of any help to you then I suppose I’ll just go home and eat chocolate for the next six months.” She turned her back on them and hadn’t even taken a step towards Harry when a chorus of shouts and pleas rang out behind her. She raised her eyebrows to Harry. “I guess I’ll hang around then.” He beamed in return before whistling his-their-team back into the sky. ****** Later that night, Ginny was on the couch again, rereading the letter she had finally managed to pen to her parents. Dear Mum and Dad, There’s no way to ease you into this so I’ll just come right out and say it: I’m pregnant. I’m almost four months along and I am no longer with the baby’s father. Before you ask, no it isn’t Lionel. It’s a very long story and to tell it again would only be painful. Please, I beg of you, trust me when I say that it is for the best if no one knows who my baby’s father is. I know this is shocking for you and I wish I had had the courage to tell you before you left on your trip, but I didn’t want you to feel as if you had to stay behind and take care of me. And I don’t want you to come home now. It took some doing, but I’m finally settled. In Hastom. It isn’t the place you believe it to be. It’s beautiful and filled to the brim with the kindest, most loving people you could imagine. I am very happy and safe here, I swear. Because of the baby, I won’t be playing Quidditch any longer. I’m working at a pub here to earn money and my lodging is all taken care of. I’m so sorry to cram all of this into a letter. It wasn’t how I wanted to tell you that I was giving you a grandchild and I’m sure it wasn’t how you imagined you’d get one from me. Please understand that I am happy with what my life is turning into. It’s scary at times and there are instances when I get overwhelmed with it all, but on the whole, this baby makes me happier than I ever thought I’d have a right to be. I know it won’t be easy for you to accept this. I hope that, in time, you will. There is so much I want to share with you. I saw the baby’s first picture today. She’s beautiful. To become a citizen of Hastom, I have to remain here for six months straight. I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you next. Hopefully, we can find a way for you to be here when the baby comes. Please write to me. Good, bad, or ugly, I just want to hear from you again. I miss you both so much. I’ll be in contact with the boys as well. Your Loving Daughter, Ginny Feeling a weight lift from her chest, she brought the parchment to her lips and gave her words a gentle kiss. |
| Reviews 713 |
Previous Next
|
