Life. What a funny word to describe something so intangible and abstract. We say plants are alive the same as people but plants don't laugh or cry or sing. They just are. When I woke up that morning, I knew something was different. I won't get into how I knew-women's intuition or some other rubbish, but I just knew that I wasn't exactly the same Ginny Weasley that went to bed the previous night. I was new and improved. I was Ginny plus one. The second I opened my eyes that morning, I knew there was life inside of me.

And I was scared to death.

I stood naked in front of the mirror on my wardrobe, searching for any outward sign of this new condition, knowing there wouldn't be one. Same red hair, same brown eyes. Same arms, legs, breasts and flat stomach. Outwardly, everything was the same, but inside was the difference.

As I looked, I pondered. How did this happen? Of course, I knew the physical workings and certainly didn't need the "when a Mummy and Daddy really love each other..." speech, but how? When? And, most distressingly, who? But that last question didn't really count because I already knew the answer. And knowing that answer naturally led to the answers for the how and the when. I knew exactly when and exactly how.

Irritated with the lack of outward evidence, I began my morning ritual and stepped into the shower, casting my mind back a scant few weeks as the scent of shampoo filled my nostrils.

I remembered...curled up on the couch underneath a warm blanket, absorbed in an article on the use of stinksap on certain skin conditions, sipping a mug of hot tea. There was a knock on my door and I looked up, confused. Mattie was on overnight shift for the next couple of nights and I wasn't expecting anyone. That usually meant only one thing and I readied myself for the sight of a bleeding brother or best friend.

The knock came again and I opened the door. Out in the hallway stood Harry, just as I suspected. He looked white as a sheet in his black Auror cloak and I immediately looked at the floor for blood, finding none.

"Harry?" I asked, looking closely at his face. His green eyes stared back at me, completely expressionless. He looked like he was going into some kind of shock and I pulled him into my flat, closing the door. He stood passively while I removed his cloak and examined him for any injury, finding nothing.

His skin was cool and pale and I could feel him trembling slightly as I checked his pulse. Something had happened tonight and my heart sped up, beating in fear of the news he might carry. As gently as I could, I pushed him onto the couch and shoved my mug of tea into his hands.

He stared down into it and I sat on the low table in front of him, placing my hands on his broad shoulders. "Harry," I said quietly, "what's wrong? What do you need?"

"Gin," he said, his voice hoarse from shouting as it so occasionally was, "Ron—"

My blood turned to ice in my veins and I shook Harry's shoulders roughly. "What? Ron what? What about my brother, Harry?"

"Ron," he croaked again, "killed…"

Oh God oh God oh God. Panic rose in me, a metallic taste in my mouth and I shook Harry harder. "Ron! What happened on Ron? Where is he, Harry? What's happened to my brother?" My voice rose to a breathy shriek and Harry's eyes finally met mine.

"I killed him, Gin. Ron was—"

At these words from my best friend, I came unglued and I slapped Harry James Potter, Boy Who Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World, right in the face and I screamed at him at the top of my lungs. "Harry! You are not making any sense! If you let my brother die I swear to God I will send you into oblivion!"

Jerking to my shaky legs, I pointed my wand straight at him, breathing hard and quaking with terror. Harry sat on my couch with wide eyes and a hand pressed to his cheek where I'd cracked him. The cloudy, shocky look was gone and he focused on me.

"No, Gin, Ron's okay." He spoke slowly and carefully, voice still hoarse and the strength went out of my legs, causing me to sit down hard on the table in front of him.

"Oh God," I moaned into my hands as I wiped the sweat off of my face. "Oh God, Harry. You scared the shit out of me." I looked at him again and frowned. "What's wrong? What happened tonight?"

"I killed a man." He looked away from me as he said this, looking absolutely wretched and my heart thumped hard for him.

"Oh, Harry," I whispered. I took the mug away from him and reached out and took his hands. Normally so warm, they were cold as ice and I rubbed the backs of them with my thumbs. "What happened?"

And he told me, in fits and starts, about a raid gone horribly wrong. He and Ron, along with a few other Aurors I didn't know well were set to raid the country home of a former Voldemort supporter. "Things went to hell as soon as we got in. They were waiting for us, Gin." Separated from Ron, Harry was on his own, hexing and stunning with the best of them, until—

"I knew he was in trouble. I don't know how, but I just did." Harry ran through the maze of rooms until he finally found the right one. "He was down. I thought...I thought..." Harry swallowed and flicked his eyes to mine briefly. He thought he was dead, the Death Eater standing above him relishing his triumph.

"Something in me just broke. I couldn't...I don't know what happened." He told me about seeing red, about grabbing his knife, about spinning the man around and—"Right there." He took my hand and pressed it to the end of his breastbone, pressing my fingers into the soft flesh there. "Right where they taught us."

"Oh no. Oh no, oh Harry...God..." I moved to sit next to him on the couch and drew him in close as he fell apart, hoarse sobs wracking his body.

"I watched him. I watched his eyes and it was like the light just went out of them."

"Harry, it's over, shh...shh..." I stroked his hair and rocked him, feeling more like I was soothing my nephew Martin rather than my twenty four year old friend.

"I watched and I was glad, Gin. I was glad I killed him." Harry drew away and collapsed against the couch, seemingly drained by the outpouring of emotion.

As a Healer, I knew I should be appalled at the taking of a life, but I felt a fierce sense of something, pride I guess, at the fact that Harry would kill to protect one of us. "But Ron, he's okay?"

Harry nodded tiredly. "Yeah. He was just stunned."

"But if you hadn't showed up..." I didn't even want to think of what could have happened as the name of the most unforgivable of Unforgivables passed through my mind.

"That's what he said. That's what they all said." Harry cleared his throat and I passed him the now cold mug of tea and watched his Adam's apple bob as he drank the whole thing. "It doesn't change anything though. I still killed a man."

"Yes, but—" I didn't want to say it, but I didn't need to. Like he so often does, he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"That was different. I still don't know exactly what happened. It was like I was dreaming and then it was over. Poof. This man, I felt his blood on my hands, felt his last breath." Harry shuddered and closed his eyes and I leaned forward, brushing my hand against the cheek I had so recently abused.

"Ron would have done the same for you," I said gently.

He opened his eyes again and looked at me. "You must think I'm the worst piece of shite ever."

"No, I don't. You were protecting my family. Your family. I know that you could have used an alternate...method, but I know it's impossible to always be in control in situations like that. You acted and there will likely be consequences, but you're not a bad person. I don't hate you."

Harry looked down at his hands again and shook his head. "Come here," I said, pulling him close again. He laid his head on my breast and allowed me to stroke his hair again. I don't remember now which one of us started first, but almost before I realized what was happening, Harry's mouth was on mine, hot and desperate.

Instantly, my body responded and I immediately kissed him back, matching his intensity with my own. It was almost as if I was floating above my couch, watching as Harry wound his fingers in my hair, as I desperately clawed at his belt and trousers. Our sounds were guttural and primitive and we removed only the clothing that was strictly necessary.

Harry filled me, hot and hard and I was slammed back into my own body, arching back as he pushed into me from behind, his arm hard around my waist. It was urgent and sweaty and over in minutes, leaving me aching for my own completion as I felt Harry jerk his hips hard, groaning loudly and biting down on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated, lips moving against the back of my neck. Trembling, he released me and I collapsed forward against the back of the couch, breathing hard.

"It's okay, Harry. I understand, okay?"

"But Hudson...God I'm a shit. I'll go. I'm sorry." He stood and pulled up his trousers, cinching his belt tightly.

Oh. Mattie. I had completely forgotten about him in the heat we had created and now I felt the sting of infidelity. I shook my head. "Don't worry about Mattie. Look, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, okay?"

"Okay." Harry stood there and I unobtrusively pulled up my own knickers and jeans, feeling embarrassed under his look. I stood up and hugged him.

"Look, why don't you get home and get some sleep? Talk to one of the counselors and if you need to talk to me, don't hesitate, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks Gin."

"For?" The incredible shag?

"For being there. For being you." He left then and I went to bed, drained by the emotions of the evening and still feeling a tingling between my legs. As I began to drop off to sleep, I started. I didn't remember either Harry or I taking any preventive action. Furiously calculating in my head, I reassured myself that we were okay.

Cold water raining down on me brought me back to the present and I went on with getting ready for my day.

I passed the day in a bit of a daze, completing tasks, filling out charts and consulting with patients as if on autopilot. The amazing automatic Healer. All day long, the thought would pop into my head, the awareness of the otherness inside of me and I would stand still for a moment, concentrating on the feel of my body. Did my own mother have this feeling? Did she know the moment I came into being inside of her?

"How's my lovely darling today?" Mattie leaned over me from behind and kissed me on the cheek. For the second time in our relationship I had forgotten all about him.

"Oh, I'm fine. How are you?" Flustered by his unexpected approach, I tried to cover by keeping my eyes on the chart in front of me.

"I am fantastic. Listen, I wanted to remind you about dinner tonight with my parents. I know how you can get distracted by things around here." He smiled good-naturedly and I repressed a surge of irritation. He was right, I was completely distracted and I had forgotten all about the dinner tonight.

"Okay Mattie. Seven, right?"

"Right." He tapped the tip of my nose and winked before striding off, his Healer's robes managing to look majestic on him. They never looked majestic on me, but that day I found that I didn't mind quite so much.

At dinner that night, I was quiet and subdued, allowing the conversation to flow around me rather than participating as I normally did. Afterwards, Mattie came up into my flat and I looked at him there on my couch. Should I tell him? I wondered as I prepared tea for us. Tell him what? Tell him that even though I had yet to perform any sort of test, I was completely and totally sure that I was pregnant with another man's child? That I woke up this morning with a feeling of something that I couldn't quite put my finger on, a profound feeling of differentness about me?

Oh dear. I couldn't. Not without talking to Harry first and not without being completely, utterly certain. So, rather than any of that, we sat quietly in my lounge and sipped tea and then, later, we slipped into my bed and quietly made love. It was a long time before I fell asleep.

A couple of days later, it was Sunday again and time to gather at the Burrow. I was now well past the time for my period, but I resisted in performing the charm. I felt that if I performed the charm and confirmed what I was sure I already knew, everything would change and life would become very hectic and bothered. I would have to tell Harry, Mattie, my parents and for now, I just wanted to float along and keep this feeling to myself.

I stood in the kitchen with my mother, peeling vegetables and talking of inconsequential things. I was trying very hard to keep my mind focused on the conversation at hand and behave like my normal self and I thought I was doing very well.

"Ginny, dear, is there something wrong?" my mother asked, carefully stirring a pot of gravy.

"Huh? What makes you think something is wrong?" I asked, waving my wand and sending the chopped vegetables into another pot, this one full of Mum's delicious chicken broth.

"Oh, I don't know. You seem a bit...distracted and your Matthew's not here tonight. I just thought...there might be something you want to talk about."

More than anything, I thought, but I didn't say it. I couldn't say it, not yet. "Oh, well, I told you he has a weekend shift at hospital. I've just got some things from work on my mind is all. I need to stop bringing work home with me." I gave her a sheepish grin and she nodded and smiled, accepting my small lie.

"Mum! I'm starved! When are we going to eat?" Ron came into the kitchen, his big body making the room seem to contract and started lifting the lids of the pots on the stove and peeking into the oven.

"Ron! Get out of there! We will eat when it's ready. And how can we eat when the table's not set? Move your lazy bones and make a contribution!" Mum scolded, hitting him lightly on the shoulder with her wooden spoon.

"Ow! Mum!" Rolling his eyes at me he reached up into the cabinets and brought down plates. "Oi! Potter!" he bellowed and I felt my stomach drop down to my toes when Harry stuck his head into the kitchen doorway.

"Oi! Weasley!" he shouted back, grinning at Ron. I began to feel lightheaded and I sat down on a kitchen chair.

"Boys! No shouting in the house! Indoors voices, please!" Mum threatened them both, but could not hide her smile. Would I be that kind of mother? Did I have it in me to ride herd over two, three or even five children?

"Sorry," they both muttered. Ron gestured to the silverware drawer and then to the table and Harry got to work.

"Hey," he said softly as he carefully laid the place settings.

"Hey," I said back, watching his long fingers work. Briefly, I allowed myself to wonder about fingers and hands. And eyes and hair and noses.

"How have you, uh, been?"

"I've been good. How about you?"

"Good. Been busy, you know."

The awkwardness between us was new. We have had anger, sorrow, happiness, passion and a whole gamut of other feelings between us, but never awkwardness. Ron began to thump down plates and I rose to put glasses in their places. We worked quickly and efficiently, old hands at this and we were soon done. I glanced outside and saw the summer sun hesitating on the horizon.

"Harry, come outside with me for a moment," I said, reaching out for his arm. I led him out to the back porch, ignoring my brother's wondering look. We stood outside in the waning light, watching the sun sink below the horizon. A soft breeze fluttered the shirttail of the plaid button down he wore over a gray tee shirt.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few minutes of silence.

"For what?"

"For...you know. We, uh, never really talked about it, yeah?" He waved his hands in my general direction without looking at me. This was the first time we'd really had the opportunity to be alone since that night a few short weeks ago and I didn't quite know how to tell him the news that threatened to spill out of me.

"Harry, it's okay. I told you that night, I understand."

"I know what you said, but..." He heaved a frustrated sigh and scrubbed his hands over his face.

"But what?"

"But Gin, I was...I behaved like an animal. I never meant to treat you like that." He turned to look at me and his green eyes were serious and troubled.

"Harry, I told you I understand and I do. I'm a Healer and I'm faced with life and death quite often. When a person is faced with death, certain...reactions are common." He looked away again and I put my hand on his cheek, drawing his eyes back to mine. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay?"

"But Hudson…"

"Harry," I said firmly, "you didn't do anything wrong. Let me worry about Mattie, okay?"

"Okay." He moved away from me and leaned his elbows on the railing of the porch, gazing out into the back garden. "So," he began, "that's pretty common, yeah?"

"Yes," I said, leaning next to him. The garden gnomes were out of control again, openly gamboling around the overgrown plants.

"So have you…?"

"Yes."

"Ah."

A second later, Ron poked his head out of the kitchen door. "Dinner's ready you guys."

Harry stood to go in, but stopped when I touched his arm again, looking at me questioningly. I licked my lips nervously and looked up at him. "Harry, I wonder if you could come to my flat tonight after dinner?"

"Sure Gin. What's up?"

"I have something I want to talk to you about. In private." Frowning slightly, he nodded and I followed him inside.

I'm sure the meal was delicious as Mum's cooking always is, but for all I knew I was eating sawdust. I couldn't look at Harry the entire time and my stomach kept jumping around as if I had swallowed twenty peppermint frogs all at once. As I mechanically shoveled food into my mouth, I went over various opening lines in my head.

"Well, Harry, I have some news for you…"

"Do you remember what we were talking about on the porch…?"

"Congratulations! You're going to be a father!"

"Promise me you won't get upset, but…"

After what seemed like an eternity, the dinner and washing up was over. Pleading an early morning, I left as soon as I could, catching a nod from Harry as I left. Once at my small flat, I did a little straightening up and decided to change into something a bit more loose and comfy than the jeans I had on.

In my bathroom, I changed into my favorite pair of flannel pajama bottoms and an old Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes tee shirt I'd nicked from George. Feeling the call of nature, I sat on the toilet and felt my heart plummet. There, on my knickers, was a small, unmistakable blossom of red.

"Ohh...oh no, oh my." My breath came hard and fast and I knew I was beginning to hyperventilate and I made a conscious effort to calm down as I went about my normal routine for this event. I noticed my hands were shaking a little and I wasn't sure if it was from disappointment or relief.

"Oh God," I whispered, wiping away a few tears and sniffling. I washed my face with cool water, examining my face for any signs of upset. Satisfied, I walked out into my lounge and put on some water for tea, waiting for Harry, my mind a blank. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on my door and my heart jumped. I had spent the whole dinner with my family trying to come up with ways to tell him my news. Since I had found out that I had no news to tell, I hadn't even thought of what I would say to him when he showed up.

Opening the door, I smiled up at him, no longer trying to combine our features in my mind and showed him in. He stood in my small kitchen and leaned against the worktop, accepting the cup of tea I gave him.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about in private?" He looked calm, but the hand he ran through his hair belied his nervousness.

Quickly casting about for a topic, I calmly said, "I just thought you might like to talk to me about what happened that night."

"Oh. Well, I dunno. I guess I just want to make sure you're okay. That I didn't hurt you, or anything."

"No, Harry. You didn't hurt me."

"And...what I did, what I felt-it's normal?"

"Yes, completely normal. Haven't you ever seen couples sneaking off at a funeral?"

Harry looked completely shocked at this and I couldn't hide my smile. "What? At a funeral? That's…that's...ugh!"

"It's natural! That's how we're wired—someone else is dead and we're not and the more primitive parts of the brain makes us feel a bit randy. To confirm that we're alive."

Harry still seemed a bit doubtful and glanced down at his teacup, swirling the contents around before taking another sip. As I watched him, he froze and looked at me with wide eyes. "Gin, I didn't...you didn't…"

It took all I had not to burst into tears at that very moment. Mustering every shred of professionalism, Gryffindor courage and guile I possessed, I fixed a reassuring smile on my face and shook my head. "No Harry. It's okay."

Relief overtook his face and he blew out a long breath. "So, you're not…?"

"No, I'm not."

"Well, that's lucky, then," he said with a little laugh, throwing back the rest of his tea in a single gulp.

"Yes, lucky," I echoed, looking down at my hands. We talked a little more then, about the investigation into the whole incident and other things before he left for the night, promising to come by the hospital for lunch sometime during the week.

Exhausted by the emotions of the night, I went to bed, pausing for a moment to gaze at myself in the full-length mirror again. I still looked exactly the same and I supposed that the whole thing could have just been an irregularity in my cycle brought on by stress or overwork, but I couldn't shake the memory, the feeling of being new and improved, of being Ginny plus one.