We all hate/love those unrealistic 'ships, right? Juicy bits coming later.
It wasn't Harry; that much was true.
Ginevra Potter stroked her rounding stomach and faked a smile, though there was nobody to watch her. No, it wasn't Harry at all, it was everything but Harry. In fact, it was nothing, nothing, not Harry, not everything, nothing but her mind playing tricks on her. Perhaps a little pregnancy sickness.
She thought, It would have been loads better if I hadn't liked him as much. Harry, of course. It would have been loads better if she hadn't liked him from the very moment she first saw him back in Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters when she was running to catch up with Mummy and Ron, a small freckled girl who didn't even know that the dark-haired boy with taped-up glasses and beautiful eyes was the famous Harry Potter. She'd liked him then, and later, when he'd saved her from the Basilisk and Tom Riddle (she still thought about Tom Riddle some times, the other handsome dark-haired boy who wasn't really a boy at all but He-Who-… Voldemort, one could say his name now, couldn't you. He was dead, really dead now.) She'd liked him when she went to the Yule Ball with Neville and she liked him when she dated Dean Thomas and she had been awfully lonesome and scared for him when he left Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione and nobody had bothered to send back a single letter to let her know if they were alive all that time. Yes, she had liked him and then loved him and she still did now. But maybe it would have been better if it hadn't been such a long, nearly uninterrupted moment of longing and liking and loving. Perhaps it would have been better if there had been some annoyance or even a little hate thrown in the mix. After all, Lily hadn't always liked James Potter.
Lily.
She was the problem. No, she wasn't the problem at all, she was dead and wonderful and perfect, bloody hell perfect. She was beautiful and caring and deep and her love had saved Harry Potter, her love had created and allowed the very existence of Ginny's love.
Nobody expects me to be Lily Evans Potter, Ginny repeated to herself. Nobody expects me to be Lily Evans Potter. But they did. She could see it in their eyes when she and Harry went to those formal dinners, especially with the older crowd. The old Order, Harry's new Auror friends, even her former teachers, they all saw the red-haired girl standing next to the splitting image of James and for the briefest of split-seconds it was as if He-Who-Must – oh, please, Voldemort. Everyone expects you to be able to say Voldemort now – had never pointed his wand at the couple, as if Peter Pettigrew had never given up their secret, as if Sirius Black had never made the decision to give up his position as secret-keeper. Of course, Harry was more famous than his father, and after that briefest of moments everyone would gather around the boy-who-lived, a boy no longer.
Lily. Brilliant student, caring mother, kept her figure after Harry's birth… Ginny couldn't help but take a critical glance at her figure in the mirror. Still shapely, right? A pleasant baby bulge in the middle, a little rounder in the arms, neck still tight, plain brown eyes still pretty if not exactly striking. She couldn't help but feel slightly paranoid, and with that, a sort of guilt for the paranoia. Mum had absolutely ballooned after Charlie was born. Ow. Ginny felt something akin to a slap across her backside whenever she thought derogatorily of her mother. Well, Dad still loved Mum seven kids later, right?
Panic rose in her esophagus despite well-meaning self-assurances. What if I get terribly fat and can't play Quidditch anymore and Harry remembers he's still in love with Cho Chang and I'm not a good mother and everybody hates me or worse, passes me by as a useless little sister and oh, what if everything is perfectly fine after all and everything continues as it is but I'll never be as good as Lily Evans and everybody knows but they won't say it to my face – Ginny took a deep breath of air. Pull yourself together, girl.
Now, all this internal struggle and unnecessary emotion may seem unimportant, a figment of the hormonal imbalances brought on by pregnancy. But it is important to know the type of internal struggles that Ginevra Potter nee Weasley was going through in order to understand what she did next, and, more importantly, why.