Warning: Implied mentions of getting an abortion

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Sex Ed: Task 2: Write about someone getting pregnant / Count your buttons: Pairings - Ginny/Harry

Word count: 825

Her Body

Thump thump thump.

It's all in her head. She knows this.

Thump thump thump.

It's her own heartbeat she hears roaring in her ears.

Thump thump thump.

"What you're doing is wrong!"

"Turn to your right side—the good side!"

"Stop before it's too late! There's a life in there!"

"Look over here, love!"

"They have heartbeats!"

"Smile for the picture! You'll be looking at the front page of this on the Daily Prophet!"

"Don't you have any maternal instincts?"

Thump thump thump thump.

She wants to stop and turn away, if only to be free of those comments and damn paparazzi, making her feel as if she's evil. But she's far from being the next Voldemort or the very devil itself; that's just some of the ridiculous comparisons ignorant people make.

A supporting hand rests on her back, gently guiding her forward toward the entrance. She glances up into Harry's face and smiles. "Thank you," she whispers, looking away from her husband's face before she breaks into tears. Happy and grateful tears.

Ginny squares her shoulders and turns to face those flashing cameras. She's entirely too aware of how self-write quills are already scribbling madly away in notepads. "Today, I am getting an abortion," she says loudly to the crowd huddled around the abortion clinic. This creates an immediate hush over everyone—even those old-fashioned witches and wizards carrying the signs against her decision. "I'm fully aware of what I'm doing, and I want to say that it's perfectly okay to do so. It's my own body."

She smiles wide and crinkly-eyed before walking into the clinic. Ginny feels an incredible rush for standing up for herself and it grows when she turns to face Harry. He's staring in awe, eyes shining and mouth open. He flushes when Ginny raises a brow.

"I'm so proud of you," he admits, a grin stretching wide across his face. "So proud."

The last amount of guilt she's built up leaves in a flash and Ginny bravely grasps Harry's hand.

"I'd like to see the doctor now, please."

5 Weeks Ago

When Ginny wakes up in the morning, she is unbelievably warm. She's practically engulfed in Harry's arms and she has her face tucked nicely into his chest. The covers are covering only their lower halves, but Harry's body temperature has always run warmer. She gently pulls back, making sure not to wake Harry up as he came home exhausted from a particular confrontation with rogue dementors. She makes a face at the window which has let the sun shine its warm rays at the couple.

(Later she will think that the sun, which isn't such a common occurrence in these parts, shining so brightly in the morning was surely a bad omen.)

Ginny makes her way out of bed There's nothing unusual in her routine that day. It goes on like normal until there's an unpleasant lurch in her stomach when she's making tea for their breakfast. She gasps and barely has time to set the kettle on the counter before she's running to the restroom.

Harry wakes up because of the loud retching noises.

She barely registers his loud shout of concern when he finds her slumped over the toilet seat. Harry rubs her back softly and holds her hair back in the process. "It's okay," he whispers. "Just let it all out."

By the time her stomach settles, Ginny knows this isn't a regular stomach bug. She's had this horrible feeling building up inside her ever since she missed her period a week ago. Her period isn't regular by any means because her strenuous Quidditch training and career interrupts her cycle, but this isn't that either.

Weasley women always get morning sickness three weeks after being pregnant.

Her hands clamp up and she groans in frustration. "I'm fucking pregnant," she says, turning her head to meet Harry's worried stare.

Harry's eyes widen and he stares shocked at her. He opens his mouth and closes it shut again.

"I don't want it," Ginny says louder, her voice cracking. Her stomach is in knots but it isn't morning sickness. Her eyes desperately search Harry's face for signs of disgust about her. It's awful. Not wanting to have a baby is normal and abortions are much more common, but this is Harry. He's always been a family orientated man.

The guilt inside of her grows.

"I'm … not ready," she whispers, biting her lip so hard she can taste blood.

Am I selfish? she wonders when Harry continues to stay silent.

"We should talk. Properly," Harry finally replies, his green eyes staring deeply into her brown ones. There's no judgment in his gaze. He presses a kiss to her forehead and smiles. "I want to hear everything you need to say."

A sense of relief floods her system and she nods in lieu of a response. She reaches for his hand and squeezes.

They'll be okay. She's sure of it.