Story Notes: Please pay attention to the dates; they're out of order, so if you don't pay attention to them it might get confusing.

The inspiration for this story came from Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "Chronicle of a Death Foretold" (you don't have to have read that story to understand this one, though).

Chronicle of the Birth of an Illegitimate Child

February 16, 1999

Ginny sat up in her bed at St. Mungo's. The sheets that surrounded her felt heavy and damp with her own sweat. The air in the room felt cool on her skin, soothing on her wracked nerves and muscles. To her right, Harry was sitting with his arm wrapped around her proudly, positively beaming. In Ginny's arms was a fragile, chubby, red baby, huddled against her out of instinct, its face turned toward her breast, away from the strange, harsh sunlight.

Aside from the glowing couple, a few nurses stood around in their white mediwitch's uniforms. Most of them were checking the consistencies of various potions or fluffing Ginny's pillows or simply enjoying the warm happiness of a new baby.

Harry's hand reached out to stroke the little boy's bald head. The little creature turned its face out to look up at him with large, buttery-black eyes darker than midnight. Harry chuckled.

"You think we should send everybody in now?" he asked as he kissed the baby's head.

"Sure."

Harry rose to invite Ginny's family into the room.

"Harry. It's going to be alright."

There was no way to deny Ginny when she looked so angelic, even with her hair plastered down by sweat and her cheeks bright red from hours of ceaseless labor.

"Of course." Again, he turned to go.

"Harry." She waited until he turned back around to face her before continuing. "Thank you."

Harry nodded slowly. Then, without hesitation, he opened the door wide. Ginny could tell that he must have been smiling broadly because a thunderous round of cheering erupted from the hall. Harry barely had time to step aside before Ginny's entire family stampeded into the room.

With the space becoming crowded quickly, the mediwitches took their cue to leave. Ginny beamed up at the dozen faces that looked at her adoringly. If only things weren't so distorted, she might have enjoyed it a bit more.

October 18, 1997

Draco Malfoy paraded down the dungeon halls. His halls. It was simple fact that below ground level, the halls belonged to Draco. He was on his way to the common room after a particularly dull and pointless detention with McGonagall. The dying light from the torches in the corridor cast a dim, eerie, orange glow over the stone walls that bounced about on the rough stone, but was dampened by leaking water from the lake overhead.

Suddenly, in the half-darkness, a wisp of gaudy, red hair whipped around a corner. At first, Draco thought he could have imagined it, but when he strained his ears he heard soft, feminine footsteps. Had a Weasley dared to intrude on his turf?

Draco turned on his heel and stormed after the footsteps, winding down the narrow halls as though in a maze. Finally, he caught sight of the intruder. Sure enough, it was the Weasley girl. Alone. At night. In Slytherin territory. Well, this was just too good to pass up. Quietly, he followed her, trying to get as close as possible. She turned three more corners before he was within three feet of her. Oddly, she still had no idea that somebody was behind her.

"Weasley!" Draco barked sharply. He was pleased to see the girl jump about a mile into the air.

She turned around quickly, her eyes wide. The expression on her face turned swiftly from afraid to violently angry as she recognized her brother's enemy. "Malfoy," she spat viciously before turning to leave.

Not quick enough. Draco had her wrist in his grasp before she could make two more steps. "What's the rush, Weasley?" he asked softly.

"Let me go, Malfoy," she demanded, as she tried to wrest her hand back. But he held tight. Her eyes widened even more.

"Come on, lighten up." He tried to push her against the wall but she maneuvered smoothly out of it.

"Asshole," she muttered, as she tried once again to get away.

"That's not very nice." Draco tried once again to pin her to the wall, and this time, he was successful. He hovered over her, close enough the tips of their noses almost touched. "You're always so mean to me, Weasley. Makes me feel like I'm not good enough."

Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically.

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

"None of your business."

"Detention?"

"None of your business."

"It is my business, Weasley. This here is Slytherin territory." His voice was silken, dangerous, sliding effortlessly over the air. He noticed that she had stopped struggling.

"That's really mature, Malfoy. I'm not allowed in the dungeons now?" she asked cheekily.

"Well, there's a fee for Gryffindors, see?"

Ginny did see where he was going with this, and didn't like it at all. Or at least, in theory she didn't like it. But right at that moment, with his lips so close, and with nobody around, and Harry God–knows–where, it suddenly didn't seem like such a crime. She had to admit, the atmosphere was intoxicating. He had a dangerous air about him, something absolutely magnetic and irresistible.

"And what kind of fee is this?" Ginny didn't mean to make her voice sound so soft, as though she had already capitulated.

"I'll show you." With that, Draco kissed her. She didn't need more encouragement. Everything after that was a blur. Clothes were scattered about the hallway shamelessly, both of them silently deciding that finding a bed was unnecessary. The whole episode turned into hands and skin and lips and sex.

It was supposed to be nothing. It was supposed to be a one–time thing. So why did Ginny keep coming back?

August 1, 1997

Fleur Delacour's white, silken wedding dress flowed out around her as she danced with her new husband, surrounded by dozens of people; friends and family, some of whom were still strangers to her. Bill whispered something in her ear as he held her close, and she laughed and swatted his arm playfully.

In the background, away from the dizzying swirl of colorful dress robes and excited, bubbly chatter, Harry sat at a table with Ginny at his side. She looked absolutely breathtaking with her hair swept up and her small body poured into a sage-green silk dress. Small green roses blossomed magically in her hair, attracting butterflies to sit occasionally on her elaborate bun.

"Let me apologize again for Ron. He's such an idiot sometimes," she said in reference to his brisk intrusion on their time in her room earlier.

Harry laughed. "Trust me. I know." He nudged her. "Don't worry about it."

Ginny smiled. "Oh, I'm not worried," she said as she leaned in to kiss him again, but Harry pulled away from her.

"Ginny…I promised Ron…"

"Ron doesn't understand anything about us. He's just sticking his nose in my business. Forget about it," Ginny muttered against his lips.

Harry seemed to think for a moment, and then stood up abruptly. "No, Gin. I made a promise to my best mate. It's not right."

"Fine," Ginny stood up after him and put her arms around his neck.

A shiver ran down Harry's spine. Already, he missed her.

"But I'll be here when you get back."

Harry nodded. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but instead he forced himself to look out at the peaceful wedding in front of them.

"Ginny. Marry me when I come back." The words had flown out of his mouth too quickly, before their gravity could form in his head.

"All right."

From a little further away, Hermione Granger was watching the pair carefully, smiling to herself.

November 2, 1997

Luna Lovegood walked down the empty castle hallway. The torches had gone out in most parts of the castle, and the moon was streaming brightly through the gothic windows. It was Luna's favorite time of night, midnight. If Luna could change any one rule in Hogwarts, it would be the curfew; nothing was better than the cool light of the moon on her skin, or the ethereal glow it cast on the cold hallway. Best of all, it was virtually silent. Walking down the halls in the middle of the night, Luna could hear the mice scampering around their corners, and the portraits creak humbly in the breeze from an open window. The entire school felt different at night. The change in lighting made it eerier, and the lack of other students gave the halls a freer feeling, as though she was walking them for the first time.

Suddenly, Luna heard a noise she wasn't used to hearing around the castle. Was that …a moan? She crept around a corner to where the noise was coming from. It repeated itself, louder this time. The noise was coming from behind a door that somebody forgot to close all the way. Carefully, Luna poked her head through the crack in the door, pushing it open slightly to allow herself a better view of the room.

There, in the streaming moonlight, was Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy, sharing a lovers' embrace. Luna leaned against the doorpost, unsure what to think but not altogether surprised.

Interesting…

January 16, 1998

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"You still up?" Hermione Granger asked her best friend, a look of worry on her face.

"Yeah, I just…I miss her so much." Harry responded quietly.

Hermione made her way over to Harry's bed and sat down next to him. "Harry…you'll see her again. She's waiting for you."

"I know. I just––I love her, Hermione."

Hermione extended a hand to rest on Harry's shoulder. "I know."

"I want to marry her already. I want to…"

"I know," Hermione said softly. A string of time stretched by them before she continued talking. "Where do you want to get married?"

"The Burrow," he responded automatically.

"So you'll get married at the Burrow. And…and have a family. And you'll…you'll be happy, Harry." Her voice was full of hope and promise and blissful optimism, but all Harry could do was nod. Promises of the future didn't guarantee anything, and they certainly didn't help alleviate his homesickness in the present.

Hermione sighed heavily. "Here, come here." She tugged Harry's elbow and he stood up with her obediently. She led him outside the tent, into the chilly night air. "When I was little, my mother's mother, who lived in France, was dying. So my mum went to France to see my grandmother off. She was gone for two weeks. During those two weeks, I nearly lost my head, I missed her so much. She didn't talk on the phone or send letters or anything. Then my father told me to look at the moon, because she would be looking at it too, and we would be connected by it. So, I don't know, I mean…I know it's stupid, but maybe Ginny is looking at the moon right now, waiting for you to marry her."

April 2, 1998

"Draco…" Ginny whispered into her forbidden lover's hair one night.

"What?" he replied tiredly, clearly not in the mood to talk to her.

"We have to stop this."

At this, Draco rolled over to face Ginny. "No we don't."

"We do. I can't take it anymore. I'm sorry." Her voice was soft. Somebody who didn't understand English would have thought that they where whispering sweet nothings to each other. "Please don't argue with me, okay?"

Draco sat up in bed and ran a hand through his hair. "How about just once more. Next week. Eh, Weasley?"

Ginny paused to think. On one hand, she really didn't want to see Malfoy again. Every morning after each of their trysts, she would be wracked with guilt, a feeling she had never enjoyed. On the other, she would miss him in some way. She did love the thrill of being with Draco, the rush of knowing she was doing something forbidden, something nobody would ever expect from their princess.

"All right. Just once more."

May 4, 1998

"What?" Hermione shrieked as she jumped off Ginny's bed, completely appalled and enraged.

Ginny looked down at her hands, clearly upset, not able to look Hermione in the eye. "I…yeah. Hermione, I'm…sorry."

"Sorry?" Hermione repeated viciously, leaning in toward Ginny. "Sorry? Oh, Ginny," she said as she broke into a sad, bitter smile, "he loved you. You don't know what he went through because of how much he loved you. And you… eight months?" She looked Ginny up and down, as though unable to believe that the girl she was looking at was still the same Ginny she knew before. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "You don't deserve him now."

Despite how upset Hermione was, she regretted her last remark when she saw how it cut into Ginny.

"I know," Ginny said in a fragile voice, on the edge of tears. "I can't…I can't say how horrible I feel about it. If only I could take it back…" She stopped when she saw Hermione shaking her head.

"You won't tell him, will you, Hermione?" Ginny's voice was such a soft whisper that she barely even heard it.

Hermione was filled with such unprecedented amounts of anger and pity that she didn't quite know where to turn. "No. I won't tell him."

"I don't know what to do."

Hermione shrugged. "Do what you feel is right, Ginny." With that, she left the room quickly, closing the door behind her quietly.

December 1, 1997

"Wait, wait, wait," Gregory Goyle said to Draco as they sat in their common room, surrounded by the sleek silks and straight lines of the black, silver, and green furniture. "So this is Wolfsbane, this is Scarleta, and this is Essence of Rosemary," he said, indicated different potion ingredients laid out in front of them

"No, you imbecile," Draco responded through gritted teeth, "This Marina Root, this is England's Tigress, and this is Scarleta. I don't know how you manage to even get dressed in the morning…You know what, just get that genius third-year to do the assignment for you."

Gregory smiled. "All right." The genius third-year was always the preferred choice for homework-completion.

"So," Gregory asked Draco fifteen minutes later as they relaxed by the roaring fire in the black hearth, glancing over occasionally at the tiny third-year scribbling down Greg's paper, "What's going on with you and the Weasley girl?"

Draco shot him an evil look. He glanced around the common room, making sure nobody was within hearing distance. "You idiot! Keep your voice down," he whispered. "There is nothing between me and that ugly little Weasley."

Gregory laughed loudly and fatuously. "But I saw you kiss her."

"What? When?"

"Yesterday. By the stairs. There's something between you."

Draco seemed to ponder this for a moment. There was no use lying now. "Yes. Well. The Weasley girl and I occasionally… kiss."

Again Gregory laughed his obnoxious laugh. "But it's a secret."

"A secret…of sorts." Draco picked his words wisely. He didn't need this idiot to have blackmail material on him.

"Do Nott and Zabini know?"

Draco knew he was being offered a double-edged sword. If he answered no, Gregory would surely use the information against him later. If he answered yes, then Goyle would almost certainly bring it up with them.

"They don't know yet."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

After a slight pause, Gregory spoke up again. "Do you love her?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco snarled.

"All right," a rather dejected Goyle responded.

"Finished!" The third-year called from the other side of the room.

February 16, 1998

It was just over three months since Luna found out about Ginny's secret lover when she confronted the girl about it. They were in Ginny's room when all her roommates were at dinner. Luna had caught Ginny just before she was about to join her friends in the Dining Hall. She knocked on the door softly and entered at Ginny's request.

"Hey Luna. What's going on?" Ginny asked distractedly as she fixed her hair in the mirror.

"Ginny, you've been sleeping with Draco Malfoy, haven't you?"

Almost instantly, Ginny's wide brown eyes turned to face her. "What? Where did you hear that?"

Luna smiled that serene smile of hers. "I saw. One night in November."

"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed, clearly shocked. "Well what, er, I mean, whadid…erm, was this…What did you see?"

"Nothing really. Just a kiss," Luna said calmly as she scooted onto Ginny's bed.

"Oh." Ginny looked like she was about to say something else but her mouth seemed to be made of rubber, unable to make full sentences.

"Harry will be most upset, won't he?" Luna asked conversationally.

"Yes. Yes, he will. If he finds out, that is." Ginny looked at Luna intently.

"Oh, don't worry," Luna said, catching onto the meaning of Ginny's gaze, "I won't tell. I'm quite good with secrets." She smiled contently.

Ginny smiled back, clearly relieved. "Thanks Luna. I just…I don't know what got into me. I just needed somebody to fill the space that Harry left–"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. I understand," Luna said as she waved a hand, as though to dismiss the subject.

"Thank you so much, Luna!" Ginny exclaimed as she rushed to hug her friend.

April 17, 1998

"Luna. Luna, please tell me these things lie sometimes!" Ginny shrieked hysterically at her friend, who was holding a little glass vial against the sunlight, squinting to make out the exact color and consistency of the potion.

"Well, I'm sure they could. But they were invented by my grandmother, and if it wasn't for her, nobody would have ever known about the existence of Purple-Snouted Unicorns."

Ginny looked at Luna for a moment as though questioning her sanity. "Please just do a Pregnancy-Check Charm, Luna," she finally pleaded. "I don't want to go St. Mungo's for that, it's humiliating!"

Luna sighed as though it were utter foolishness to want anything more than her grandmother's potion. "Yes, I suppose I can. Show me your stomach."

Ginny held her shirt up. She glanced down at her stomach. It was so flat at that moment, the very thought that it could swell and bloat in the next few months made her eyes sting with tears.

Luna held her wand up against the Ginny's stomach. She muttered an incantation, after which gold sparks shot out of the tip of the wand.

"Ginny, you're pregnant," she said casually.

May 12, 1998

A knock came at the door to Ginny's room. People had been knocking on her door nearly nonstop for the past ten days, since the Battle of Hogwarts. Her brothers wanted a shoulder to lean on to check on her, her parents, especially her mother, had barely let Ginny out of their sight. Dozens of friends came by to hear her story or just to talk. But Harry hadn't shown up. If he wasn't carted around from one funeral to another, he was making appearances or attending press conferences. The rest of the time, he was being force fed by Ginny's mother. But now, for some reason, she was sure it would be him.

"Come in."

"Hey, Ginny." Harry looked at her adoringly, as though there was absolutely nothing he wouldn't do for her. He had so much in his eyes; aside from the unconditional love that poured from them, she could see his exhaustion from the past year, his grief over the many people that died for his war, and unless she was mistaken, his expression was laced with lust. He came into the room and closed the door behind him but didn't dare come forward, as though this was another dream of his, and she might vanish if he upset the delicate balance of space and time and feeling.

"Harry." Ginny didn't know whether to be relieved to finally see him again, or ashamed of herself for her betrayal, or even fear of breaking his heart.

"I've missed you." Again, he looked and sounded like he wasn't sure that she was actually there.

Ginny smiled. "Me too."

"I love you."

"I love you." She was about to burst out in tears. But she wouldn't. She had to contain herself; she wouldn't try to win him back with pity.

"You look beautiful."

"You've gotten taller."

"Really?"

Ginny nodded. "Just a bit."

"Can I kiss you?"

Ginny didn't say anything. Harry took a step forward tentatively. Then another. Now close enough to touch her, Harry sat down next to Ginny and took her hand.

"You're amazing."

"I didn't wait."

In a way, Ginny had known for a long time that she would have to tell Harry; long before she got pregnant. She just couldn't go through life keeping that kind of thing from him. For a moment, it seemed that the words didn't sink in. Then, finally, Ginny saw his heartbreak reflected in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly, his jaw clenched, clearly trying to contain his grief.

"Harry… I didn't wait. I'm so sorry."

Harry shook his head rapidly. "Well, wait. This is too fast. You didn't wait? So… so who did you… Never mind. I don't want to know. Yes I do. I do. Tell me. Now. Who was it? I'll kill him. I swear. Wait. Wait, no, don't tell me. I… I don't know. Just…"

"Harry. It was–"

"It was Krum, wasn't it?" Harry's miserable disposition quickly flipped to anger. "I saw him checking you out at Fleur's wedding. What I scumbag. I'll kill him–" Harry stood up, but couldn't take two steps before Ginny pulled him back.

"No. It–"

"Was it Dean Thomas? That asshole. I knew he was no good. How could he hurt you? How could he do that to you?"

Despite how horrible Ginny felt, an edge of defiance crept into her mind. Why was it is a given that if Ginny had somebody other than Harry, that somebody would hurt her? She wasn't that naïve.

"Harry it was Draco Malfoy. I'm carrying his baby."

Harry sat perfectly still. His gaze dropped from hers and he looked at the floor. He let go of her hands. Slowly, he licked his lips.

"Oh."

"Please, Harry. It was mistake. I can't tell you how awful I feel…" She tried to put a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged her away.

"Draco Malfoy," he echoed.

"Please," Ginny whispered, begging him to at least listen.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry repeated in a stronger voice, his fury barely concealed behind the veil of his quiet tone. "You… my God, Ginny. I loved you." He glanced down at her stomach, as though repulsed by what was growing there.

"Oh, God," Ginny groaned as the barrier between her dignity and her tears broke, and she started crying softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't know what I was thinking… please…"

"Please what?" He turned away from her cruelly.

"Please forgive me." Ginny sobbed. She was filled with terror greater than what she felt during the Battle of Hogwarts. It felt like raw energy was trying to push its way out of her nerves through her skin. Her hands shook violently and her heart felt like it was made of lead. All she saw was the possibility that she could lose Harry. It was blinding. She felt that there was nothing she wouldn't do to escape that possibility.

Ginny got down on her knees, putting her hands on his thigh. "Harry. There's nothing I wouldn't do… Oh my God…Harry. Please. I don't love him, I love you! I loved you from the moment I saw you–" A heavy sob wracked her body. "I'm begging you. I–I know… Harry, you love me. I know it. Please. Please try to… try to forgive me. I don't know what I'll… you mean everything to me." At that point, her crying became so uncontrollable that she lost all her strength, reduced to a heap of sobs and tears at his feet.

Gently, Harry took Ginny's chin in his hand and tilted it up to face him. He alternated looking from one tear-filled eye to the next. Finally, his gaze dropped to her wobbling lower lip.

"How far along are you, Ginny?" He asked bitterly, brutally. "How long have been fucking Death-Eaters? Huh? A month? Two months? Five years? How long, Gin?"

"Harry, please don't do this," Ginny whispered as more tears rolled over her cheeks.

"You really had me fooled, Ginny. You really did."

"Harry–"

"No, Gin. Some things can't be forgiven." He got up to leave, got to the door, then paused, and turned back around. "What did you want, anyway? Did you want to raise Malfoy's kid like my own? Or, or just say that everything was okay, and that we would figure it out? What did you want, Ginny? Tell me what the fuck you wanted from me!"

Shocked, still leaning against her bed, Ginny remained silent.

Harry opened the door quickly, and before she knew it, he was gone.

January 29, 1999

Ginny sat up in her St. Mungo's bed. The sheets that surrounded her felt heavy and damp with her own sweat. The air in the room felt cool on her skin, soothing on her wracked nerves and muscles. In Ginny's arms was a fragile, chubby, red baby, huddled against her out of instinct, its face turned in toward her breast, away from the strange, harsh sunlight.

A few nurses stood around in their white mediwitch's uniforms. Most of them were checking the consistencies of various potions or fluffing Ginny's pillows or trying to give her some sort of warm advise or consolation, seeing that the seventeen-year-old girl had no father in the room with her.

Ginny's hand reached out to stroke the little boy's bald head. The little creature turned its face out to look up at her with large, buttery-black eyes darker than midnight.

"Do you have a name picked out yet?" a perky nurse asked Ginny several hours later.

"Adder Henning."

"Ok…and the last name?"

"Weasley."

End Notes: The meaning of Adder is "Venomous Snake" (after Slytherin). The meaning of Henning (and Harry) is "Home Ruler".

Thanks for reading, please review!