Ginny sighed and placed her head against the cool counter. She felt the tears start to push past, threatening to burst out from the deep hole they had been locked into for so long. How could she have been so foolish? It was bound to happen. This was almost like his home, of course he would want to come back here at some point in his life!
"Listen, we will work this out, you and me, Ginny," Hermione said comfortingly. "It's going to be alright, don't you worry about a thing!"
"Oh, Mione, I've been so stupid!" she wailed, finally crying. "It's just going to mess everything up again! I should have just told him or-"
"Ginevra Molly Weasley in all the years I have known you I have only seen you cry, other than when you were angry or nervous, three times. Once, when Sirius died, once when Dumbledore died and once when I hit you in the face with a bludger bat! You are not a weak, crying type of a person, besides your sometimes breakdowns when you're upset."
"He's coming back, though! Hermione, I should have told him!"
"Ginny, please listen to me, dear," Hermione snapped, her tone becoming colder than usual, "he was a complete and utter idiot when he left and I think you telling him would have led to another spiral of dramatic depths! It was best for both you and the baby that he was left in the dark for a while and I don't want to hear anything else about it!"
"It's his daughter, Hermione," Ginny whispered, looking at Hermione with mascara running down her face, almost onto her perfectly glossed lips.
Hermione's face softened at the mess that Ginny was making of herself and handed her a napkin. "Gin, both you and that baby are better off without him!"
"How can you say that?"
"Let me reword myself," Ginny said quickly, realizing her mistake. "You and that baby were better off waiting for a more mature Harry, rather than the miserable, surly, selfish, jealous prat we all remember! Cheer up! How bad can it be?"
"Don't say that!" Ginny cried, groaning. "Everytime someone says something horrible happens! You could have just jinxed me or-" Hermione knocked down on the table, rolling her eyes.
"Better?"
"Yes," Ginny said meekly, giving Hermione a sad smile. "No."
"I didn't think so," she whispered softly. "Oh, Ginny, please don't cry anymore, alright? Everything is going to turn out fine, believe me! I'm in expert in this type of thing."
"When have we ever been in something such as this?" Ginny snapped.
"You know what I mean," Hermione replied defensively. "The Harry I know is going to be understanding and kind to you and-"
"Yeah, well, he might not be the Harry we all knew," Ginny mumbled to herself, thinking about the last time she had seen him.
It had been a warm Sunday night when Harry had returned from the War. Ginny had been sitting at the kitchen table drinking some lemonade and trying to air herself off, her hands moving furiously all around her face. The back door opened silently, the usual creak missing.
It wasn't until Harry dropped his bag onto the floor that Ginny managed to turn around and really look at him. As she took in her features she slowly felt her heart begin to sink with nervousness. This wasn't the Harry she had known. He seemed angry that she was in the kitchen, he seemed annoyed somehow.
"Hello, Ginny," he said, almost curtly. After a hesitation he went over to her and cupped her face in his hands. His cold face suddenly broke into a familiar smile. "How have you been."
Ginny's knees felt weak, as though she might casually faint right there in front of him, but she managed to stay upright, looking into his eyes with a fierce sense of need.
"I've been good, Potter," she replied, her own face breaking into a foolish smile. "I missed you so much!" Harry just nodded and went over to the kitchen, turning back to her and looking around the room with a sense of longing.
"Wow, did I miss this place," he said, more to himself than anyone else. He didn't see the slight look of hurt that crossed Ginny's face as he said this. His eyes traveled back over to the place where Ginny was standing uncertain of what to say. As his eyes landed back on her, her face flushed. "We need to talk."
"Oh," she replied, uncertainly. "Ok. What about?"
"I got a job, Ginny," he said, nodding to himself. "To be an Auror."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" she said, beaming. His face was cold and drawn, hurt.
"I'm going to be living in the country for a while and then maybe somewhere else…" he said, looking down at his hands.
"Sounds good," she replied, feeling more and more confused by the moment.
"I might get transferred out of the country," he said slowly. "You know, to America maybe."
"Oh." It seemed to be the only word she could manage. She wasn't sure where he was taking this and didn't exactly want to find out. He was acting weird.
"I know that last time I saw you we er…." he broke off and for the first time Ginny could see he was blushing. She felt herself almost smile at his discomfort.
"Yeah," she said, her own eyes lowering to the ground as her face flushed once again. She licked her dry lips and managed to look back over at him. He was hunched over to table, studying a burn mark from on of George's botched experiments.
"Well," he said, still not looking at her. "I don't want you to think that this is why I'm doing this. Because I'm not, you know. I really do care for you Ginny, I just need some space."
Space. It hung in the air as large as a dragon and as loud as a cannon. She didn't know what he was trying to say, only that he wasn't doing it very well.
"You need space," Ginny repeated. "From…?"
"You," he replied, still looking down at the table. "From us. I've been thinking a lot these past few months when I was away and I think maybe we should take some time apart." He looked up at her desperately. "He's gone now and I have no idea what I'm going to do."
"You're going to be an Auror," Ginny snapped. "You're going to work in the Ministry and travel around the world as you always wanted to do!"
"Is it, though?" he persisted. "I wanted to do it when I was sixteen and angry at the people Auror's captured. Maybe now my wants have changed."
"So take some time-"
"Ginny," his voice was sincere. "I really never wanted to hurt you, you know. Last month it was nice, it was special to me and will always be special. Please don't hate me."
With a heavy look at her he got up from his space at the table and walked from the room, going to the door. As his hand reached the handle, he turned back to her.
"I love you, Ginny Weasley."
And he was gone. A few moments later her mother came in, knowing that Harry was coming and probably knowing what he was going to say to Ginny.
Ginny lied to everyone, saying it didn't hurt when it was killing her. That it was alright, when it nothing ever felt so wrong. That she was going to be ok, when she wasn't sure she could stand to get out of bed in the morning. That one day she would be able to think about Harry and not hurt, when all she wanted to do was die.
And, as though her life could not possibly get any worse, Ginny Weasley was pregnant.
"Hey, you still with me?" Hermione asked, snapping her fingers at her friend. For a moment she was concerned Ginny was having a brains spasm. She was staring at the backdoor with a blank look on her face as her hand lay on the table clenched in a fist.
"What?" Ginny asked, shaking her head and snapping out of her dream. "Me? I'm fine." She looked over at Hermione, trying to work up the courage to smile. It was another lie. She was anything but fine.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Harry wrote to Ginny, about once a month, to try and make up for his abrupt departure. She almost never replied. Sometimes though, around the Holiday season, he got a Christmas letter with no return address. He always sent them to the Weasley's.
He wondered often if leaving had been the right thing to do, and decided that it was. He was more mature now. He had grown a lot over this year. For once in his life he wasn't angry at the entire world at once.
"C'mon," Ron grumbled, glaring down at his watch. He turned back to Harry with a smile. "We could always do you know what and get us there faster…" he said suggestively.
"What in the hell are you talking about?" Harry demanded, glaring at Ron, unaware of what Ron was hinting at.
"Apparating," Ron snapped. "What did you think I meant?"
"You don't want to know," Harry replied, looking around the station and sighing. "You know, when they said no magic for a month, did they really mean it or was it just a test?"
"It is a test," Ron said, not looking up from his paper. "If we go a month without magic, then we are truly ready to begin Phase 3 of training."
"Bugger it all," Harry groaned, looking back down at his watch in anger. "This train is forty minutes late!"
"Don't worry, dear, we'll get there on time."
Harry looked over at his girlfriend of three months and smiled at her, giving her knee a squeeze.
"I know, I'm just anxious."
OoOoOoOoOo
When Ginny had found out she was pregnant, she knew she had three option. Have it, abort it, give it away. As the days went on, she was still undecided.
One day, after telling Hermione what was actually bothering her, she was instructed to write a pro and con list of all three choices.
Adoption:
Help those who can't have children. pro.
Scared of becoming attached to the baby. con.
This is my last memory of Harry and I. CON!
Abortion:
Not an option.
Having it:
I want to. Pro.
So, it was decided. Ginny would keep the baby, whether her family liked it or not. This was her child that was growing inside of her. This was something she had wanted since she was a little girl and found out about having actual children, not plastic dolls that usually ended up being held captive by Fred or George.
Seven months later Ginny gave birth to a gorgeous baby girl, Emma Lillian Weasley. Molly had of course been a bit confused and almost hurt that Ginny had decided to keep the baby without consulting with her, but it quickly turned to warmth and excitement at having her first grandchild, soon to be second when Bill announced Fleur was eight months pregnant.
Ginny found herself quite an interesting job in the Ministry, which she was terribly fond of. Her boss, who was actually Penelope Clearwater, had allowed her four days a week off, and only asking her to be present for three days. The majority of the work she did was at home, owled in.
"Ginny." Ginny tore her eyes away from the window to turn towards Hermione, who was standing in the doorway. "They should be here soon and your mother wants to see you in the kitchen. I think she misplaced some of the formula."
"Oh," Ginny said, breaking into a smile. "I'll be right down."
"And they should be here soon." The smile slipped off her face as quickly as it appeared. Ginny nodded once and turned back towards the window, looking out at the garden.
"I'll be right down," she repeated, her tone sounding fake and plastic to her own ears. "Just let me get dressed."
Harry was coming back today. Harry was going to be in the kitchen for the first time in almost two years. Harry was going to see her again, talk to her again…see Emma. Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to make the nervous clench in her stomach go away. It stubbornly stayed put.
As Ginny brushed her long red hair out, she imagine the perfect scenario in her head. Harry would walk in, catch sight of her and fall madly in love with her again. He would be the way he was when they were sixteen. He would smile at her again, the way he used to. He would love the idea of Emma being here already and would ask Ginny to marry him on the spot. And then, after all this, they would, of course, live happily ever after.
It was always at the point in the fantasy when Ginny came barreling out, her heart feeling heavy and worn while the rest of her body attempted to be strong. He wouldn't propose and he wouldn't be happy. He would just be angry and hurt with her, maybe forever.
Although, Ginny rationalized to herself, he didn't accept my invitation to come into London seven months ago and speak with him, about two months after Emma was born. And he didn't accept my other before that. So, it isn't exactly my fault about him not knowing, is it? I mean, of course I could have just gone despite his lack of response, but I didn't. I was too hurt.
"Ginny! Let's go! They should be here at any moment, get down here!"
"Yes, mum!" Ginny called, looking at herself one last time before pushing up from the vanity and heading down the stairs that led to the kitchen.
Once downstairs the scent of baking bread assaulted her nostrils and made her stomach grumble with want. She was starving as it was, not been allowed to eat since breakfast, and with food staring at her, it was all Ginny could do to keep from reaching across the table and grabbing a chicken wing.
"Mum, I gather both Harry and Ron are coming?" Ginny asked casually, going over to the kitchen closet and fetching the pen for Emma. Molly wheeled around, looking floored.
"Oh my-" she whispered, her eyes frozen open. "Ginny he doesn't know, he's going to-"
"Mum," Ginny said kindly, "I know all of this and believe me I've worried myself sick. There is no need to worry about it any longer though, and I've come to the decision to just take whatever comes my way."
"I totally forgot," Molly said, putting her hands to her head. "I practiced an entire speech and everything and I forgot all about Harry coming back! Well, alright, we'll need to get the baby dressed and bathed and-Arthur! Get down here, dear! Ginny, why don't you go get ready-"
"I am ready," Ginny said moodily, looking down at herself critically. "Oh, mum!" she cried angrily, "Why did you have to go and say something like that? Now I'm going to be all uncomfortable!"
"I'm sorry," Molly wailed, running from the sink to the cabinet near the corner. "Please, dear, go get your father! Arthur!"
"I'm here, Molly," Arthur said, coming into the room and looking as though he had just been woken from sleep. He took off his glasses and wiped them off with the hem of his shirt. "What is it?"
"Harry's coming," Molly barked, turning to him with beady eyes. She narrowed them and quickly set about helping him buttoning the top button and tucking in his shirt.
"I know that, dear," he said. "Ron called us last night."
"I'm sorry, he what?" Molly asked, raising an eyebrow. Arthur froze and turned to his wife guiltily. "Arthur…" Molly asked, folding her arms.
"Er, well, d-dear," he stuttered, searching for an escape. "The water!" Ginny turned in time to see the top on the pot fly off and sail across the room, hitting Molly in the arm. She cried out and slowly bent down to pick it up.
"Don't think we're done with this," she bellowed at Arthur's retreating back. "Ginny, could you be a dear and help me get the plates onto the table?"
"Yeah, I'm on it," Ginny said wearily, pulling out her wand. With four well-worded spells, the plates were on the table, the napkins were in their places, a bowl of potatoes was sitting in it's rightful spot near Ron.
Emma started to cry just as Ginny was finishing her final spell. She sighed again, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear and walking over to the living room where nine month old Emma was sitting on the couch with Arthur. He smiled at his daughter and handed the baby to her.
"Here you are, dear," he said. "I think she's a bit cranky. Could use a good change, though."
"I'll do that then," Ginny said, smiling. "Do you need a change, crank bottoms? Huh, tell mummy what's the matter." Emma was no longer crying as Ginny walked into the bathroom and changed her diaper. She smiled broadly at her reflection in the mirror, even going so far as to try and stand. "A bit bold, isn't it Emma?" Ginny asked with a little laugh.
Ginny swung Emma onto her hip and let her stare at her reflection for another moment before stepping out of the bathroom and turning off the light. As she started down the stairs she thought she heard some commotion but figured it was most likely Fred and George.
"Mum," Ginny said, rounding the corner, "have you seen-Harry."
There he was standing in the kitchen, staring at her. She realized with a jolt that Emma was in her hands. Emma, the baby he didn't know he had, was currently playing with her earrings.
"Ginny," Harry said. Silence filtered into the room as she fought to come up with something to say, something to make it go away. It would be different if the baby had inherited all of Ginny's things, but she hadn't. With a dark red hair and giant, dark green eyes, Emma Weasley was a dead ringer for her father.
Ginny's eyes landed on a woman with long black hair and dazzling blue eyes, who obviously had no idea Harry was staring at his daughter.
"Erm," she said. "Hello, I'm Melinda. Harry's girlfriend."
A/N Please read and review.