Seventh year had been uneventful until that fateful day, October 16. My period had been late for more than a couple of days, but I did not think much of it. I was stressed out, so that must have been the cause, right? Nope. After 2 weeks of ignorance to the situation, I finally performed the pregnancy charm.
My fears were instantly confirmed when my stomach briefly glowed purple. Yikes. This was not good. At just seventeen years old, I could not raise a baby. I'm still in school, I don't have a job, and my parents would be furious. I have nightmares just thinking about how Ron would react.
How would I break the news to Harry? He would be so angry. It had been me who persuaded him to come back to Hogwarts in the first place. In the end, he had agreed to teach D.A.D.A. for my seventh year.
Our relationship was still rocky with the war just ending. After all, he did abandon me for nine months without even saying good-bye, and he still did not know what went on during my sixth year.
My mother had taken it upon herself to constantly set us up and make sure that we stayed together. I sometimes thought that she wanted me with Harry more than I did.
Nevertheless, we continued our relationship. Harry needed someone during this difficult recovery period and I was there for him until this latest discovery completely threw me off guard.
Later that night, I finally set off to tell him. He would eventually find out, so I figured sooner is better than later. I would have to get this over with, but I knew no matter what his reaction would not be a good one.
He was not the father of the baby.