The sun was setting outside the window, and Harry sat at the kitchen table, starring at his wife's back as she washed dishes. Could she have used magic to do it? Of course. But Ginny was stubborn about not over-using her powers, and this was one of the things she liked to do herself. Harry thought it strange; he had always hated washing dishes at the Dursley's. But Ginny had once explained to him that housework sort of calmed her, bringing order to things and such. That said, in her current state, he didn't think she should be doing much of anything. Though he found it best to let little things like this go, so he sat back and just watched his wife scrub and dry.

Harry loved to look at Ginny. There was no denying that. He loved to see her when she was angry with him, when she was tired, even when she was sick. She was always taking his breath away with every breath she took. But it was when Ginny was pregnant that Harry found her the most stunning. There was something about the hormones that made her skin glow, and her smile more present than ever. That said, it was Ginny's hair that really got to him.

Harry had always been partial to girls with red hair, but Ginny's was always especially wonderful. It had the slightest wave and tattered edges from flying around playing quidditch, and would catch the light just enough to give it a shine. She was always putting little clips in it to keep it out of her face, or strangling it into a pony tail when she did housework. Sometimes she would curl or straighten it, and although it still looked lovely, Harry yearned for the natural way the strands landed on her shoulder blades.

He never understood why so many girls with red hair dyed it a different color. He was aware of the derogatory terms for red-heads, but they always seemed silly. Harry's mother, Lily, had red hair, beautiful red hair. His mother's hair was the only thing he could remember from his infancy. He always assumed the color was sort of just something he was endeared to genetically. He often wondered if it was his love for his mothers hair that made him first attracted to Ginny. He had heard that girls often search for boys like their fathers, maybe he was doing something like that. Then again, red hair was almost always atop the head of all the girls who cared for Harry (besides Hermione). His mother, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny. The idea that anyone could dislike a girl with red hair left him practically dismayed.

Ginny knew how much Harry loved the color of her hair, and would often torture him by explaining that she had seen the prettiest honey blonde hair swatch at the salon, and how she'd always secretly wanted to have blonde locks… but she would never do it. She loved that he liked her natural hair color, and besides, it was a Weasley trademark. One which Harry desperately hoped she would pass on to their children, but alas, there James and Albus were, both terribly terrific, but both dark-haired.

There was something about this baby that was different. To start with, Ginny was expecting a girl. She had so feared that like her mother, she would to have seven children to finally get a girl. But she didn't, and to be honest, Harry was a bit relieved. But it wasn't just the sex of the baby that Harry was thinking of. He was convinced that his daughter would inherit her mothers hair, or maybe even his mother's. It was just one of those things that he could feel.

Ginny turned from the sink, her hair whipping behind her. "Staring at me, are you?"

"We're married!" Harry scoffed, jokingly. "There's nothing wrong with me looking at my beautiful wife."

Ginny smiled and put the final dish on the drying rack. "I 'spose not." She tucked her hair behind her ear, then walked over and sat on Harry's knee, her arms around his neck. She was much more dense in her final trimester, but Harry wasn't about to tell his pregnant wife to get off because she was too heavy. He strained a grin, and she kissed him.

"Oh!" She said, and put a hand on her protruding stomach. "She's kicking again!" She grabbed Harry's hand, and placed in on the top of her belly. "Here, feel it."

Harry waited, and sure enough, a small kick hit his hand. A little friendly reminder that this baby was very much real, and very much ready to be out of her confined space. "I'll never get tired of that." He said, smiling wide.

"Well that's because she doesn't keep you up all night with it!" She cradled her stomach. "She's a strong one though. She'll be able to rough house with her brothers no problem."

"Just like his mother."

Ginny giggled.

Harry cleared his throat. "Um, Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"I know you've been terribly nice in allowing me to name all of the boys," He met her eyes. "But if she has red hair, I mean, I just think…"

"Lily." She said matter-of-factly.

"You would?"

She kissed his forehead. "Darling there is nothing more trivial to me. A rose by any other name and that stuff. But I know it's important to you, so why shouldn't I let you have this one little thing?"

"I just know my mum would have loved you, Ginny." He kissed her hand. "I just feel like there needs to be another little red-headed Lily Potter on this earth. And I really appreciate you letting me give her name to our daughter, especially after your father gave his daughter a name you barely even use."

"Ginevra." She droned. "Harry nothing makes me happier than seeing you happy." They smiled at one another. "Besides, if she hates her name, she can blame you." Harry laughed.