Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, reparo!, scourgify!, St. Mungo's, Quidditch, not even the Holyhead Harpies. BUT I did string all of these words together!

It was a beautiful day out; the sun was shining, there was a gentle breeze, the sky was clear. Perfect weather for Quidditch, thought Ginevra Weasley-Potter as she stepped out of the window of Purge and Dowse, Ltd., the secret entrance-way to St. Mungo's. She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh air. But who knows when I'll be able to play Quidditch again.

Ginny exhaled but kept her eyes shut as she concentrated on her home, which she shared with her new husband (husband! What a strange thing to say, she thought), Harry. She felt her insides twist as she apparated to the front door of her house. She walked in and sat down at the kitchen table, thinking. She would have to tell Harry soon.

A few hours later, Ginny stood at the counter making dinner, when a sound came from the entrance-way.

"Harry?" she called out.

"Yeah," he said, as he came around the corner. "Honey, I'm home," he smirked, as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Why isn't supper on the table?"

"Oh, get over yourself," was Ginny's response, but she smiled at him. "You're lucky I even bothered making you anything."

"Lucky? Hardly," said Harry, sticking his finger into a bowl of mashed potatoes. "Your cooking is nothing like your mother's."

Ginny slapped him. "It's a right bit better than yours," was her reply, as she took her plate and sat at the table.

"I can't argue with that." Harry sat down across from her.

Ginny was playing her with mashed potatoes, twirling around the fork and moving it around on her plate. "I've been thinking," she said to her husband without looking up.

"Uh-oh," Harry responded, grinning.

"Oh, shut up. I've been thinking about Quidditch."

"Me too. It's great weather today, isn't it? I'd love to go out on my broom for a spin…" Harry trailed off, looking longingly out the window.

"Well—yes, but—what I mean is, I've been thinking about work, you know, with the Harpies… well, it's just…" Ginny faltered. "I was thinking I should take some time off. Indefinitely."

"What?" said Harry, staring at Ginny. "Why? You love playing with them; I mean, who wouldn't?"

"Well, I don't know, it would be good to take some time off—"

"Why? I don't think so. I mean, I know you, Gin, you like being active. You don't like sitting around. Are you starting to feel lazy or something?"

"No!" she snapped, glaring. "I am not lazy."

"I didn't think so," replied Harry calmly. "But I can't think of any other reason why you should stop going to work."

"Well it's not like we aren't financially stable as it is," Ginny went on. "We don't need me to be working—"

"That's a bit snobby of us, I think. Just because we don't need you to work doesn't mean you should be sitting at home—"

"I wouldn't be sitting at home!" she snapped again. "I can't even—ugh. I just think that—well I was at the healer's today and…"

"You were at St. Mungo's?" asked Harry, now concerned. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself at a practice or something?"

"No, I'm fine, but…" she sighed. "It's generally accepted that you should only play Quidditch if you're the only one on the broom…"

Harry stared at her. "Okay, I'm really not following."

"I—well, a baby might get… I don't know, travel-sick or something, I mean I'm not a health-professional, but I can't imagine how swooping around everywhere would be very good for it."

"What?"

"Travel-sick. Like motion-sickness or something."

"No," said Harry, dropping his fork. "I know that, I meant, you were saying… the other thing you said…"

"A baby?" Ginny was looking him in the eyes now.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Yes," replied Ginny.

"…y-yes?" asked Harry nervously, playing with his napkin.

"Yes," said Ginny again, biting her lip and looking up at him. "A baby. I can't really, you know, fly at top speed on a broom if I'm carrying one of those." She paused. "Inside of me," she added. Ginny felt rather awkward. This could have gone better, she thought.

Harry gathered himself. After a moment, he stammered, "yes, well... I suppose if you were, well, if you were carrying a child… not literally, obviously—well, either way, I suppose—but if you were—erm—well, pregnant, then yes, I agree. Quidditch might make it sea-sick or… something," he concluded rather uncertainly.

"Sea-sick?"

"Er. Motion-sick."

"So we agree then," Ginny said quietly. "I should probably hold off on the Holyheads for a while."

"Yes."

"Yes. Right. Great." Ginny stood up, knocking over her glass. "Oh—reparo! Scourgify!" she mumbled, pointing her wand at the mess. "I'm… I have to… I'll be right back." She stood up and walked into their room.

Ginny threw herself onto the bed, then mentally scolded herself for doing so.

"Oh! I'm sorry, little baby-thing," she said, sitting up quickly and putting her hand to her still-flat tummy. "This is going to take some getting used to, I'm afraid," she said quietly. This has to have been the worst 'I'm pregnant!' announcement of all time.

Meanwhile, Harry Potter sat alone at the kitchen table, trying to figure out what had just transpired. It sounded to him as though… as though his wife was going to have a child. His child. His baby.

My baby! he thought suddenly, adrenaline pumping through his veins as though it had just hit him (which it had). She's—we're going to have a baby! He stood up just as quickly as Ginny had, also knocking something over, but he ignored it and half ran into the room.

"Ginny!" he shouted. "We're going to have a kid! Like a little person… like Teddy, only not, and ours instead of it being someone else's!" His eyes were wide and he looked frantic but excited.

She stared up at him. "I—what? Yes," she said bemusedly, trying to decipher his ramble.

He sat down next to her. "We're having a baby," he said again, quietly but smiling broadly.

Ginny looked back at him intently, and a gradual smile grew onto her face. "Yes," she said, and giggled. "We're having a baby."

from the author:

Please tell me if you thought it was good or bad or anything in between! Also, feel free to inform me of any stupid little errors in spelling or grammar; this is the fasted I've ever pumped out a story. I just sort of had the idea, wrote it, and uploaded it. Thanks everyone!