Ginny Weasley was famished.
"You're hungry," Ron observed, as Ginny piled her plate high with food. Chicken wings toppled from their pile onto the tablecloth, grease stains marking it.
"Starving," Ginny corrected him, making a start on the steak. She seemed to attack it rather than eat it, great chunks disappearing down at a time.
"I think it's a Weasley thing," Hermione said wisely, putting down the Evening Prophet and beginning on her own plate. "Ron has a similar amount."
"But Ginny isn't the sort to eat a lot," Harry responded worriedly. His eyebrows were twisted with concern.
"Don't worry about it, Harry," Ginny said airily, now shovelling mashed potato into her mouth, "What's the problem if I am getting a little hungrier than usual?"
"Don't you want your girlfriend to grow up big and strong?" joked Ron, resulting in a thump from Ginny.
Harry forced a laugh, but continued to watch Ginny with a worried expression.
"Ginny?"
Ginny turned at the foot of the Girls' staircase, surprised.
"Yes, Harry?"
"Can I have a... chat... with you?" he asked, looking around to see if anyone else was about. A few seventh year girls were gossiping animatedly at a study table, and a second year was getting up from the seat at the fire place, yawning.
"Let's sit at the fire, shall we?" Harry said, and Ginny agreed, so they made their way to the vacant couch. When Ginny sat, she felt for Harry's hand and held it. He let her snuggle to his chest, encased her in his arms, and gave a sigh.
"Harry?" asked Ginny tentatively, "What's the matter?"
"I've been thinking," said Harry, "About your new behaviour."
"New Beh-!"
"Let me finish," pleaded Harry, and Ginny grew silent.
"You've been very sleepy, very hungry and very, well... happy."
"That's a problem how?" inquired Ginny. The thought of her being happy as worrying was laughable.
"Well," continued Harry, "These are the sorts of things I would expect from a... a pregnant lady."
Ginny frowned.
"Remember Christmas day?" Harry asked softly.
Ginny let her mind wander back to that night... and felt a tingle of pleasure radiate from the memory.
"Oh," she breathed. "But... I used that spell... Remember? The one Hannah recommended. She said it works really well for her."
"Yeah, I remember you saying you used it," Harry said, "But I looked it up in the library. Ginny, it's faulty. It works only some of the time. It is temperamental magic."
From underneath his arm, Ginny seemed to freeze. Then, slowly, she let her hand fall to her belly.
"You're kidding me," she whispered hoarsely.
"Ginny, I think we need to go see Madam Pomfrey," Harry implored. "I'll come too, I promise, but we need to be careful about this! If you really are pregnant, think of the trouble we could get in! You're fifteen!"
Ginny pressed her lips together in a tight line, and let tears fall down her cheeks.
"Ginny?" asked Harry softly.
"Harry..." Ginny choked.
He wiped her tears and stroked her hair, feeling her despair as if it were his own.
"I know."