Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It all belongs to J. K. Rowling. Well,
except the part that me and Stacy thought up. She's an amazing beta reader,
and her e-mail's silenceofthemind@hotmail.com if anyone needs one.
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Chapter 3: Dear Bastard
After mum forced me to unlock the door, my brothers came trudging in.
"Fred, George, why are you two so dirty?" Mrs. Weasley asked, examining her sons' grass stained and dirt covered clothes.
"I fell off my broom." Fred said, eyeing me very carefully. He gave me this look that said, 'once everyone's gone, I'm going to force information out of you.' And I knew that that information was who the father was. I looked around the kitchen, making sure that all of the sharp, torture worthy objects were in safe keeping.
There was a long, tense silence. My mother kept looking at my brothers, and then at me. She was probably wondering the same thing I was; how many years in Azkaban would Ron get if he used an Unforgivable Curse on me?
"Well," My mother said pleasantly. "Dinner's ready."
I happily helped her set the table. It aided in distracting me from the prying eyes and silent questions of my brothers.
The whole dinner was uncomfortably silent. I didn't eat anything or look up from my plate. I just pushed my mash potatoes around and used the gravy to draw different things on my plate. What felt like hours later, Ron broke the silence.
"I won't kill him, if that's what you're thinking." Ron said, as if we had been discussing the issue for some time.
I looked up with a puzzled expression. He just stared back at me with a very serious face.
"...what?" I asked, not knowing what else to say.
"If you tell me who the father is, I promise not to kill him." Ron said. I had to swallow a laugh.
"Riiiight." I said, forcing down the corners of my mouth. "Because you're never violent."
"I'm serious, Gin." Ron said, looking a little desperate to prove his point. But I cut him off before he could think up any more lies.
"You're saying that you'd be civil to a man who stole your sister's innocence?" I asked seriously. I could see my mother shift uncomfortably in her chair. My father busied himself with examining the table cloth. But everyone else was glued to Ron and my conversation, not even blinking for fear of missing a millisecond of it.
"...yes." Ron said. Ah, the poor lad, he's such a terrible liar.
"The man who took advantage of me and got me pregnant?" I asked. I was exaggerating, of course. Devon never took advantage of me, I did it willingly.
"Of- of course." Ron stuttered.
"The man who slept in my bed and kissed me and saw me naked?" I asked. I could hear my mother gasp and my father clear his throat awkwardly. Hermione was staring at me with an gaping mouth. Fred was gripping his butter knife so hard I feared he'd draw blood. And George's clenched fists were shaking in rage. Bill and Charlie were more mature, and decided to handle things in an adult fashion; they pretended to stay calm but were really listing a number of nasty curses and hexes in their heads.
Ron, who had been maintaining a rather calm composure throughout dinner, suddenly exploded.
"It was that Michael bastard, wasn't it!" He yelled, standing up from his chair so quickly it tipped over and fell to the ground. He was leaning over the table and staring me straight in the eye. I was afraid that if I moved to suddenly, he might bite me or something, so I stayed very still.
"I'll kill him." Ron muttered.
"Ron, sit down." Hermione said quietly, pulling on his arm.
Ron rounded on her and yelled, "Why are you being so calm?!"
"Because that's what you do when around a crazy person." Hermione said acidly. Ron glared at her.
"I'm not crazy. If anyone's crazy, it's Ginny." Ron said, bringing his gaze back to me.
"Wait just a second." I said defensively, sitting on my hands so I wouldn't throw my soup at him. "What makes *me* the crazy one?"
"The fact that you are sticking up for Michael."
"It wasn't Michael!" I screamed, but Ron ignored me.
"All men are scum, Ginny. I thought you'd know that by now!"
"Ron," I said reasonably. "You may not be aware of this yet, but you're a man as well."
"I'm very well aware, thank you." He spat. I couldn't help but grin. Annoying him was way too easy. "But men take advantage of girls like you."
"Girls like me?" I laughed. "Are you referring to just red headed girls, or girls with millions of overly protective brothers?"
"I mean girls who fall in love every other day." Ron said.
My mouth, which had been wearing a confident smirk, was now open to a surprised 'o'.
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?!" I asked angrily. I mean, the nerve of him! At least I didn't act like a five year old child and torment the person I liked the way he did with Hermione.
"Isn't it obvious?" he smirked. The cocky git.
"Do you think we'd be having this conversation if it was obvious?" I spat.
He didn't seem fazed. Damn it. He knew something I didn't, and that meant the power was on his side. Or, if you want to use a sport scenario, then; if this was tug-of-war, then that stupid little handkerchief that's tied in the middle of the rope would be on his side... what? I consider tug- of-war a sport. If it makes you sweat, it's a sport.
"How many boyfriends have you had?" Ron asked, looking like he was trying not to have his Protective Brother act get in the way of his new Confident Bastard-ness.
"Is that really important?" I asked, rolling my eyes. Truthfully, I'd lost count. There'd been so many. What can I say? Ze men; zey find me, 'ow you say, irresistible.
"My point is," Ron continued. "you fall in love so easily, any guy would take advantage of that."
"I do not fall in love easily!" I said, not even believing myself. But I had to be right. Ron was never right, and I planned on keeping it that way.
"Do you remember the Harry situation?" Ron asked.
I could have died. Just keeled over right then and there. I blushed so red, my face looked like Rudolph's nose. You'd probably get sunburned if you stood next to me for too long.
Harry seemed paralyzed by either terror or surprise. I couldn't tell which, since I wouldn't dare look directly at him.
Ron, being the loving brother that he was, continued trying to kill me from embarrassment.
"You were totally head over heals in love with Harry," he said.
I wondered if I could fatally wound him with a butter knife.
"You'd never even spoken to him, and you were smitten."
If I reached under the table, could I stab him in the groin with my fork?
"You couldn't even talk to him. You just followed him around, like an obsessed fan."
Can a man live with only one testical?
"Then, after years of him showing no change in his feelings for you, you moved on to Michael. And then Dean. And then-"
I finally found my voice. I opened my mouth to cut him off, and a strange squeaking noise came out. All the same, Ron stopped talking. I paused for a few seconds, and then continued.
"All right, I get it. I've had a lot of crushes and boyfriends." I admitted. I hated telling Ron he was right. It was like getting a bikini wax; takes a lot of courage to do, over with in a few seconds, but still hurts like hell hours after.
I broke eye contact with Ron, not able to face him any longer. His victorious smile shone so bright that I couldn't even look in his general direction. And, at the other end of the table, sat Harry. I couldn't look at him either, for obvious reasons.
So I muttered an excuse, and bolted up to my room. I opened a window and sat on my bed for a few minutes, letting my face slowly change from the magenta color of mortification, to the pink color of lasting embarrassment.
As my face continued to turned back to it's normal color, a ruffle of feathers made me glance in the direction of my open window.
A gray owl was standing on the windowsill, waiting patiently with a letter tied to it's leg. Once I took the letter and read who it was from, reality hit.
Devon. I seemed to have completely blocked him from my mind, even though he was the reason my brothers had suddenly turned into hit men and I was a soon-to-be-very-fat woman.
Poor Devon. He was just sitting at home, completely oblivious to the fact that half of his genes were now inside of my uterus and slowly turning into a baby.
I read over his letter quickly, only half paying attention. He talked about how he missed me and we should go to the Quidditch World Cup together. I felt so guilty. This was going to be such a nasty shock for Devon, but I couldn't hide it from him. Well, I could, but I'm pretty sure that that would be against the law. And even if it isn't, I'm sure I'd crack when my baby looked up at me with his/her bright blue/brown/green/etc. eyes and said, "Who's my daddy?"
I grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and a quill. But before I could even start to write, there was a knock on my door. I called for them, whoever they were, to come in.
Dad stood nervously in the doorway, looking afraid to pass the threshold. Mum was behind him, and gave him a hearty push into my room.
"Hi dad." I said, a puzzled look on my face.
"Hello love." Dad smiled. "I have -erm- something to discuss with you." He said, glancing nervously over at mum, who was still standing silently in the doorway. She gave him a very stern look, and he looked back at me.
"First of all, I want you to know that I don't approve of you...umm..." My father stuttered. He glanced at my mother again. She glared at him and mouthed something I couldn't make out. "Right," dad said, focusing back on me. "I don't approve of you going around and getting pregnant and...such..."
"Okay..." I said, looking at him oddly.
"Right, well, I think it best for you to -er- owl the father, and -uh- tell him." He continued, sneaking little glances back at my mother. She kept glaring at him, as if mentally telling him to continue with the speech or prepare to sleep outside tonight.
"I was just about to write him." I said. Dad breathed a sigh of relief, and stood to leave. But when his eyes landed on mum again, he sat back down.
"Also," Dad continued. "I, as your father, think that it is my -erm- duty to know who this boy is." The whole time my father managed to look completely serious, as if it was really him who wanted to know and not my mother. I'm sure he was interested, but mum was the one who would die without the information. So, naturally, she conned my father into asking me.
"He's Devon Mathers." I said simply. I was surprised it came so simply, since I had sworn myself to secrecy that I wouldn't reveal him name. No matter how much they tortured me, I wouldn't tell. They could pull off all of my finger nails, cut my throat, and burn my whole wardrobe, and I still wouldn't tell.
My father's recently serious face broke into a smile.
"Sean's son? I work with Devon's father. Wonderful man. Has an interest for muggles as well. Half muggle, Devon is." Dad rambled. It was only when my mother cleared her throat very loudly that he stopped.
"Right," dad said, back into serious mode. "Well, on with the letter writing, then."
Once my mother and my extremely whipped father were gone, I began to write the letter to Devon.
Devon,
I'm not going to beat around the bush, cause I'm not completely sure what that phrase means. So, here goes... I'm pregnant. I'm so sorry to tell you this through a letter, but I figured the sooner you know, the better. You don't have to do anything. Be in the baby's life if you want to, but I don't want to put any pressure on you. Please owl me back as soon as you can.
Love,
Ginny
With a deep breath, I tied the letter to the gray owl's leg, and sent it off.
~*~*~*~
I woke up pretty late the next day. Around noon. I didn't even to shower or change out of my pajamas. All I knew was that it was lunch time, and I smelled chicken.
Everyone was already in the kitchen, and random people muttered good morning to me. I felt so loved.
"Ginny, I need you to do the laundry today." Mum said as she took a sandwich from the plate and passed it to me. I took three. Now, before you judge, remember that I'm eating for two. So, really, it's only one and a half sandwiches.
"I can't." I answered simply. My mother stopped what she was doing (smacking Fred's hand as he tried to put a Ton Tongue Toffee in Hermione's sandwich), and looked at me strangely.
"Excuse me?" She asked. Fred, George, and Ron all looked up hopefully; they love it when someone else gets in trouble. "You *can't*?"
"I'm pregnant." I said, stating the obvious.
"Oh, really?" Mum asked sweetly. "Well, that's news. I thought you were just still living with us because you enjoy acting like a leech."
Now, you have to admit, that was harsh. Who would have thought that my warm, caring mother could be so cruel to her little princess? It makes me question my existence when mummy gets cross with me.
"I'm sure it's not good for the baby if I do strenuous work." I said reasonably.
"Well then, I'll keep that in mind the next time I think of asking you to run a marathon." Mum hissed. "Washing and folding laundry, hard as it may seem, will not kill you, my dear. I can't, however, guarantee that *I* won't."
So, obviously, being pregnant had no perks. I was going to be fat, uncomfortable, and still have to do housework. Why couldn't I just lie on the couch, watch soap operas and eat bon-bons like they do in the movies?
But before I could think of this subject any further, a familiar owl flew in threw the open window. It landed itself right in front of me. Unfortunately, that meant that it's nasty little bird feet were contaminating my sandwich, but never mind.
The letter was from Devon. I was too scared to open it, so I asked Hermione to do it for me.
"Why do you need me to open it for you?" She asked angrily. "Afraid there's anthrax in it or something?"
"No," I said, shaking my head for the effect. "I just don't want to."
"I'm not your slave." Hermione said, going back to eating her lunch.
Some friend she was. Couldn't even do a simple thing like open a letter. It's not like I was asking her to stand on her head, sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and drink coffee at the same time.
So, I was forced to open the letter. An action I immediately regretted. It would have been easier to just throw it in the fire. It said;
Ginny,
I don't know why you're bothering me with this. It's obvious that the baby isn't mine. Maybe you should ask your many other boyfriends before you trouble me. I'd appreciate it if you stopped owling me. Since we are no longer going out, I find the process very unnecessary.
Devon
"That arrogant bastard!" I yelled, standing up from my spot at the table. Everyone's eyes were on me, and I didn't even notice. My gaze was still on the letter.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"Devon!" I screamed, throwing down the letter. Hermione immediately grabbed it before anyone else could.
"I KNEW IT!" Ron yelled triumphantly. "...Wait, who's Devon?"
"The son of a bitch who doesn't think it's his baby!" I yelled.
"Ginny, language." Mum warned. But she said it a little half- heartedly, more concerned with the problem at hand.
"He seems to think I'm easy." I said, barely able to speak the words.
"What a bastard!" Fred yelled.
"Do you want me to kick his ass for you?" Ron asked kindly.
"That fucker won't even be able to move once I'm done with him." George growled.
"Everyone! That's enough! I will not tolerate that kind of language at my table." Mum said sternly. Everyone stayed quiet.
"Ginny," she said in a kinder tone. "go to your room and write Devon back until the both of you have this figured out."
I grabbed Hermione's wrist and sped off to my room.
Once inside, Hermione gave me a puzzled look.
"Why am I here?" She asked.
"Because I need someone here to take the blame when Devon's dead body is found next to my note." I said. Hermione looked at me sternly. "I just need you here so that I won't do anything that could be considered illegal."
"Fine." She sighed, sitting down on my bed as I began to write Devon back.
Dear Bastard,
Don't you dare go all Jerry Springer on me. We don't need a DNA test to figure out that the baby's yours. Now if you'd kindly pull your head out of your ass, we can work this out. We both obviously want nothing to do with each other, so here's how it's going to work; I will have the baby and take care of it, while you can go to hell.
Ginny
I was set to send this out right away, but Hermione insisted on reading it.
"Do you really not want him in the baby's life?" She asked, looking up from the letter.
"Well, I hate him. And if this baby is smart, then it will too." I said simply. Hermione continued to give me stern looks. "Fine," I sighed. "I suppose it would be for the good of the baby if it knew it's father."
"So then I suggest you don't tell him to 'go to hell.' You know, just in case he takes it literally. It's awful hot down there, and probably not the best place for a baby to visit."
So Hermione helped me clean up the letter a bit. I felt so cheated. I was really looking forward to sending the hate mail. I wanted to tell Devon where to stick it... which, obviously, the answer wasn't 'in me.'
But, in the new letter, I was all Mary Sunshine. Telling him that I understood why he was angry, and that he had a reason to be. I almost killed myself after I sent out that letter. I was coming off so soft!
This stupid baby better be worth it. If it doesn't come out covered in gold and diamonds, then I'm pushing it back in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okie-dokie, time for thank yous.
mixed: Oy vey, I don't even want to fathom the look on my poor mother's face if I told her I was pregnant. Let's just say, if I ever found the courage to tell her, my ass would get very well acquainted with the pavement.
kneh13: It's a Harry/Ginny ship. I surprised even myself by writing this kind of ship, seeing as I am not too happy with the Harry in the books. But I like trying a different type of couple from my normal one; Ron/Hermione. Although, I do have some R/H in this story too.
Foags: Hi!!!! I slapped myself too for not keeping more in-touch with you. And I totally agree, sophomore year is going to be the death of me. My brain will just explode! I'm not taking cemestry tho (thank god for ecology). The subject that's gonna kill me is Spanish. *shivers* I study it so much, sometimes I just suddenly begin to speak it instead of English. People look at me funny when that happens... So how was your thanksgiving? Freak/crazy families are always fun!... I agree on the kill-Harry-unless- he's-with-Ginny-or-gay. And Harry/Hermione ships make me want to puke. It's just nasty... It was very hard for me to get past the whiny and annoying Harry in the books and try to find one that would actually be likeable, so I'm glad you like the story... I'm glad I helped you procrastinate. Being a procrastinator myself, I take the job very seriously. Heehee. Anyways, we should talk more! So, I'm glad we are. It'll help us both not get swallowed whole by the evil monster that is sophomore year.......... dude, long thank you.
Dolphingirl79: No Ginny didn't smack Ron. Darn. That would've been fun. But don't you appreciate his murderous tendencies now that we've found out what a jackass Devon is?
D.Torres: I like how you phrased that; Harry falling on his sword for Ginny. But you'll just have to-I love this part-wait and find out. Heehee, I love knowing things that other people don't. It makes me want to cackle evilly. Hey, you know what? I think I will. Muhahahahahahaha!!!!!
Stompy-Sanji: lol, I suppose it was quite a shock when you found out that Harry didn't get Ginny pregnant. That would've been interesting... huh, maybe I'll make another story just about that! That is, if I get out of sophomore year alive. O! And you HAVE to write more of your Dean/Parvati story. It's so original and I love it!
Strayc@t: Yea, Molly is very different in this fic. Even though we don't know very much about her from the books, she's definitely an extreme in this story. Believe me, you'll see in a few chapters.
Chelles: Aw, thank you! You have no idea how happy it makes me to know that I am making someone besides myself laugh.
faer: Remarkable, huh? I like how that sounds. But as long as I'm making you laugh, I'm happy.
DBZ gal: You've never read a Harry/Ginny fic?!?! Craziness!... Well, actually, I've never read one either! Imagine that. O, except for this one called Fellytones and Fuzzy Slippers: A Love Story. But it was mostly Ron and Hermione with just a little bit of Harry/Ginny-ness. Anyways, I'm glad that you decided to try something new and read my story! What ships do you normally read about?
Josh Potter: Thank you so much. I hope that I got everyone's reactions to the news right. I mean, it's pretty easy to say that Ginny's brothers would be totally pissed and ready to kill, but I was skeptical on Harry. Especially because we don't really know his feelings for her yet.
Luna Lovegood2: Okay, first of all, I love your name. Luna's my all time fav. Anyways, I'm glad I had you laughing, that's my job and I love doing it. Damn, I wish that was an actual job...
Baygirl44: lol, actually, I cant wait for the boys to beat Devon to the ground either. Especially after the letter. Heehee, sometimes having older brothers is a plus.
Herbie: oh yay! I made your cold winter day enjoyable! That makes me feel so good. Is it snowing where you are? It just snowed today, and, during a study hall, me and my friends went and had a snowball fight. Heehee, might not be the driest thing to do, but it was fun!
mark: aw, thanks. Well, here's a third, and there's a lot more where that came from.
Ranting Idiot: Lol, at first, when I saw your name, I was like 'oh crap, this person doesn't like my stuff.' But then I realized that it was actually your name, and not just something you made up... wow, anyways, thanks so much. A lot of people (including you) have said it's interesting, and that can only mean good things.
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If you want me to e-mail you when I update, just give me you e-mail address in the review and I'd be happy to do it :)
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Chapter 3: Dear Bastard
After mum forced me to unlock the door, my brothers came trudging in.
"Fred, George, why are you two so dirty?" Mrs. Weasley asked, examining her sons' grass stained and dirt covered clothes.
"I fell off my broom." Fred said, eyeing me very carefully. He gave me this look that said, 'once everyone's gone, I'm going to force information out of you.' And I knew that that information was who the father was. I looked around the kitchen, making sure that all of the sharp, torture worthy objects were in safe keeping.
There was a long, tense silence. My mother kept looking at my brothers, and then at me. She was probably wondering the same thing I was; how many years in Azkaban would Ron get if he used an Unforgivable Curse on me?
"Well," My mother said pleasantly. "Dinner's ready."
I happily helped her set the table. It aided in distracting me from the prying eyes and silent questions of my brothers.
The whole dinner was uncomfortably silent. I didn't eat anything or look up from my plate. I just pushed my mash potatoes around and used the gravy to draw different things on my plate. What felt like hours later, Ron broke the silence.
"I won't kill him, if that's what you're thinking." Ron said, as if we had been discussing the issue for some time.
I looked up with a puzzled expression. He just stared back at me with a very serious face.
"...what?" I asked, not knowing what else to say.
"If you tell me who the father is, I promise not to kill him." Ron said. I had to swallow a laugh.
"Riiiight." I said, forcing down the corners of my mouth. "Because you're never violent."
"I'm serious, Gin." Ron said, looking a little desperate to prove his point. But I cut him off before he could think up any more lies.
"You're saying that you'd be civil to a man who stole your sister's innocence?" I asked seriously. I could see my mother shift uncomfortably in her chair. My father busied himself with examining the table cloth. But everyone else was glued to Ron and my conversation, not even blinking for fear of missing a millisecond of it.
"...yes." Ron said. Ah, the poor lad, he's such a terrible liar.
"The man who took advantage of me and got me pregnant?" I asked. I was exaggerating, of course. Devon never took advantage of me, I did it willingly.
"Of- of course." Ron stuttered.
"The man who slept in my bed and kissed me and saw me naked?" I asked. I could hear my mother gasp and my father clear his throat awkwardly. Hermione was staring at me with an gaping mouth. Fred was gripping his butter knife so hard I feared he'd draw blood. And George's clenched fists were shaking in rage. Bill and Charlie were more mature, and decided to handle things in an adult fashion; they pretended to stay calm but were really listing a number of nasty curses and hexes in their heads.
Ron, who had been maintaining a rather calm composure throughout dinner, suddenly exploded.
"It was that Michael bastard, wasn't it!" He yelled, standing up from his chair so quickly it tipped over and fell to the ground. He was leaning over the table and staring me straight in the eye. I was afraid that if I moved to suddenly, he might bite me or something, so I stayed very still.
"I'll kill him." Ron muttered.
"Ron, sit down." Hermione said quietly, pulling on his arm.
Ron rounded on her and yelled, "Why are you being so calm?!"
"Because that's what you do when around a crazy person." Hermione said acidly. Ron glared at her.
"I'm not crazy. If anyone's crazy, it's Ginny." Ron said, bringing his gaze back to me.
"Wait just a second." I said defensively, sitting on my hands so I wouldn't throw my soup at him. "What makes *me* the crazy one?"
"The fact that you are sticking up for Michael."
"It wasn't Michael!" I screamed, but Ron ignored me.
"All men are scum, Ginny. I thought you'd know that by now!"
"Ron," I said reasonably. "You may not be aware of this yet, but you're a man as well."
"I'm very well aware, thank you." He spat. I couldn't help but grin. Annoying him was way too easy. "But men take advantage of girls like you."
"Girls like me?" I laughed. "Are you referring to just red headed girls, or girls with millions of overly protective brothers?"
"I mean girls who fall in love every other day." Ron said.
My mouth, which had been wearing a confident smirk, was now open to a surprised 'o'.
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?!" I asked angrily. I mean, the nerve of him! At least I didn't act like a five year old child and torment the person I liked the way he did with Hermione.
"Isn't it obvious?" he smirked. The cocky git.
"Do you think we'd be having this conversation if it was obvious?" I spat.
He didn't seem fazed. Damn it. He knew something I didn't, and that meant the power was on his side. Or, if you want to use a sport scenario, then; if this was tug-of-war, then that stupid little handkerchief that's tied in the middle of the rope would be on his side... what? I consider tug- of-war a sport. If it makes you sweat, it's a sport.
"How many boyfriends have you had?" Ron asked, looking like he was trying not to have his Protective Brother act get in the way of his new Confident Bastard-ness.
"Is that really important?" I asked, rolling my eyes. Truthfully, I'd lost count. There'd been so many. What can I say? Ze men; zey find me, 'ow you say, irresistible.
"My point is," Ron continued. "you fall in love so easily, any guy would take advantage of that."
"I do not fall in love easily!" I said, not even believing myself. But I had to be right. Ron was never right, and I planned on keeping it that way.
"Do you remember the Harry situation?" Ron asked.
I could have died. Just keeled over right then and there. I blushed so red, my face looked like Rudolph's nose. You'd probably get sunburned if you stood next to me for too long.
Harry seemed paralyzed by either terror or surprise. I couldn't tell which, since I wouldn't dare look directly at him.
Ron, being the loving brother that he was, continued trying to kill me from embarrassment.
"You were totally head over heals in love with Harry," he said.
I wondered if I could fatally wound him with a butter knife.
"You'd never even spoken to him, and you were smitten."
If I reached under the table, could I stab him in the groin with my fork?
"You couldn't even talk to him. You just followed him around, like an obsessed fan."
Can a man live with only one testical?
"Then, after years of him showing no change in his feelings for you, you moved on to Michael. And then Dean. And then-"
I finally found my voice. I opened my mouth to cut him off, and a strange squeaking noise came out. All the same, Ron stopped talking. I paused for a few seconds, and then continued.
"All right, I get it. I've had a lot of crushes and boyfriends." I admitted. I hated telling Ron he was right. It was like getting a bikini wax; takes a lot of courage to do, over with in a few seconds, but still hurts like hell hours after.
I broke eye contact with Ron, not able to face him any longer. His victorious smile shone so bright that I couldn't even look in his general direction. And, at the other end of the table, sat Harry. I couldn't look at him either, for obvious reasons.
So I muttered an excuse, and bolted up to my room. I opened a window and sat on my bed for a few minutes, letting my face slowly change from the magenta color of mortification, to the pink color of lasting embarrassment.
As my face continued to turned back to it's normal color, a ruffle of feathers made me glance in the direction of my open window.
A gray owl was standing on the windowsill, waiting patiently with a letter tied to it's leg. Once I took the letter and read who it was from, reality hit.
Devon. I seemed to have completely blocked him from my mind, even though he was the reason my brothers had suddenly turned into hit men and I was a soon-to-be-very-fat woman.
Poor Devon. He was just sitting at home, completely oblivious to the fact that half of his genes were now inside of my uterus and slowly turning into a baby.
I read over his letter quickly, only half paying attention. He talked about how he missed me and we should go to the Quidditch World Cup together. I felt so guilty. This was going to be such a nasty shock for Devon, but I couldn't hide it from him. Well, I could, but I'm pretty sure that that would be against the law. And even if it isn't, I'm sure I'd crack when my baby looked up at me with his/her bright blue/brown/green/etc. eyes and said, "Who's my daddy?"
I grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and a quill. But before I could even start to write, there was a knock on my door. I called for them, whoever they were, to come in.
Dad stood nervously in the doorway, looking afraid to pass the threshold. Mum was behind him, and gave him a hearty push into my room.
"Hi dad." I said, a puzzled look on my face.
"Hello love." Dad smiled. "I have -erm- something to discuss with you." He said, glancing nervously over at mum, who was still standing silently in the doorway. She gave him a very stern look, and he looked back at me.
"First of all, I want you to know that I don't approve of you...umm..." My father stuttered. He glanced at my mother again. She glared at him and mouthed something I couldn't make out. "Right," dad said, focusing back on me. "I don't approve of you going around and getting pregnant and...such..."
"Okay..." I said, looking at him oddly.
"Right, well, I think it best for you to -er- owl the father, and -uh- tell him." He continued, sneaking little glances back at my mother. She kept glaring at him, as if mentally telling him to continue with the speech or prepare to sleep outside tonight.
"I was just about to write him." I said. Dad breathed a sigh of relief, and stood to leave. But when his eyes landed on mum again, he sat back down.
"Also," Dad continued. "I, as your father, think that it is my -erm- duty to know who this boy is." The whole time my father managed to look completely serious, as if it was really him who wanted to know and not my mother. I'm sure he was interested, but mum was the one who would die without the information. So, naturally, she conned my father into asking me.
"He's Devon Mathers." I said simply. I was surprised it came so simply, since I had sworn myself to secrecy that I wouldn't reveal him name. No matter how much they tortured me, I wouldn't tell. They could pull off all of my finger nails, cut my throat, and burn my whole wardrobe, and I still wouldn't tell.
My father's recently serious face broke into a smile.
"Sean's son? I work with Devon's father. Wonderful man. Has an interest for muggles as well. Half muggle, Devon is." Dad rambled. It was only when my mother cleared her throat very loudly that he stopped.
"Right," dad said, back into serious mode. "Well, on with the letter writing, then."
Once my mother and my extremely whipped father were gone, I began to write the letter to Devon.
Devon,
I'm not going to beat around the bush, cause I'm not completely sure what that phrase means. So, here goes... I'm pregnant. I'm so sorry to tell you this through a letter, but I figured the sooner you know, the better. You don't have to do anything. Be in the baby's life if you want to, but I don't want to put any pressure on you. Please owl me back as soon as you can.
Love,
Ginny
With a deep breath, I tied the letter to the gray owl's leg, and sent it off.
~*~*~*~
I woke up pretty late the next day. Around noon. I didn't even to shower or change out of my pajamas. All I knew was that it was lunch time, and I smelled chicken.
Everyone was already in the kitchen, and random people muttered good morning to me. I felt so loved.
"Ginny, I need you to do the laundry today." Mum said as she took a sandwich from the plate and passed it to me. I took three. Now, before you judge, remember that I'm eating for two. So, really, it's only one and a half sandwiches.
"I can't." I answered simply. My mother stopped what she was doing (smacking Fred's hand as he tried to put a Ton Tongue Toffee in Hermione's sandwich), and looked at me strangely.
"Excuse me?" She asked. Fred, George, and Ron all looked up hopefully; they love it when someone else gets in trouble. "You *can't*?"
"I'm pregnant." I said, stating the obvious.
"Oh, really?" Mum asked sweetly. "Well, that's news. I thought you were just still living with us because you enjoy acting like a leech."
Now, you have to admit, that was harsh. Who would have thought that my warm, caring mother could be so cruel to her little princess? It makes me question my existence when mummy gets cross with me.
"I'm sure it's not good for the baby if I do strenuous work." I said reasonably.
"Well then, I'll keep that in mind the next time I think of asking you to run a marathon." Mum hissed. "Washing and folding laundry, hard as it may seem, will not kill you, my dear. I can't, however, guarantee that *I* won't."
So, obviously, being pregnant had no perks. I was going to be fat, uncomfortable, and still have to do housework. Why couldn't I just lie on the couch, watch soap operas and eat bon-bons like they do in the movies?
But before I could think of this subject any further, a familiar owl flew in threw the open window. It landed itself right in front of me. Unfortunately, that meant that it's nasty little bird feet were contaminating my sandwich, but never mind.
The letter was from Devon. I was too scared to open it, so I asked Hermione to do it for me.
"Why do you need me to open it for you?" She asked angrily. "Afraid there's anthrax in it or something?"
"No," I said, shaking my head for the effect. "I just don't want to."
"I'm not your slave." Hermione said, going back to eating her lunch.
Some friend she was. Couldn't even do a simple thing like open a letter. It's not like I was asking her to stand on her head, sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and drink coffee at the same time.
So, I was forced to open the letter. An action I immediately regretted. It would have been easier to just throw it in the fire. It said;
Ginny,
I don't know why you're bothering me with this. It's obvious that the baby isn't mine. Maybe you should ask your many other boyfriends before you trouble me. I'd appreciate it if you stopped owling me. Since we are no longer going out, I find the process very unnecessary.
Devon
"That arrogant bastard!" I yelled, standing up from my spot at the table. Everyone's eyes were on me, and I didn't even notice. My gaze was still on the letter.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"Devon!" I screamed, throwing down the letter. Hermione immediately grabbed it before anyone else could.
"I KNEW IT!" Ron yelled triumphantly. "...Wait, who's Devon?"
"The son of a bitch who doesn't think it's his baby!" I yelled.
"Ginny, language." Mum warned. But she said it a little half- heartedly, more concerned with the problem at hand.
"He seems to think I'm easy." I said, barely able to speak the words.
"What a bastard!" Fred yelled.
"Do you want me to kick his ass for you?" Ron asked kindly.
"That fucker won't even be able to move once I'm done with him." George growled.
"Everyone! That's enough! I will not tolerate that kind of language at my table." Mum said sternly. Everyone stayed quiet.
"Ginny," she said in a kinder tone. "go to your room and write Devon back until the both of you have this figured out."
I grabbed Hermione's wrist and sped off to my room.
Once inside, Hermione gave me a puzzled look.
"Why am I here?" She asked.
"Because I need someone here to take the blame when Devon's dead body is found next to my note." I said. Hermione looked at me sternly. "I just need you here so that I won't do anything that could be considered illegal."
"Fine." She sighed, sitting down on my bed as I began to write Devon back.
Dear Bastard,
Don't you dare go all Jerry Springer on me. We don't need a DNA test to figure out that the baby's yours. Now if you'd kindly pull your head out of your ass, we can work this out. We both obviously want nothing to do with each other, so here's how it's going to work; I will have the baby and take care of it, while you can go to hell.
Ginny
I was set to send this out right away, but Hermione insisted on reading it.
"Do you really not want him in the baby's life?" She asked, looking up from the letter.
"Well, I hate him. And if this baby is smart, then it will too." I said simply. Hermione continued to give me stern looks. "Fine," I sighed. "I suppose it would be for the good of the baby if it knew it's father."
"So then I suggest you don't tell him to 'go to hell.' You know, just in case he takes it literally. It's awful hot down there, and probably not the best place for a baby to visit."
So Hermione helped me clean up the letter a bit. I felt so cheated. I was really looking forward to sending the hate mail. I wanted to tell Devon where to stick it... which, obviously, the answer wasn't 'in me.'
But, in the new letter, I was all Mary Sunshine. Telling him that I understood why he was angry, and that he had a reason to be. I almost killed myself after I sent out that letter. I was coming off so soft!
This stupid baby better be worth it. If it doesn't come out covered in gold and diamonds, then I'm pushing it back in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okie-dokie, time for thank yous.
mixed: Oy vey, I don't even want to fathom the look on my poor mother's face if I told her I was pregnant. Let's just say, if I ever found the courage to tell her, my ass would get very well acquainted with the pavement.
kneh13: It's a Harry/Ginny ship. I surprised even myself by writing this kind of ship, seeing as I am not too happy with the Harry in the books. But I like trying a different type of couple from my normal one; Ron/Hermione. Although, I do have some R/H in this story too.
Foags: Hi!!!! I slapped myself too for not keeping more in-touch with you. And I totally agree, sophomore year is going to be the death of me. My brain will just explode! I'm not taking cemestry tho (thank god for ecology). The subject that's gonna kill me is Spanish. *shivers* I study it so much, sometimes I just suddenly begin to speak it instead of English. People look at me funny when that happens... So how was your thanksgiving? Freak/crazy families are always fun!... I agree on the kill-Harry-unless- he's-with-Ginny-or-gay. And Harry/Hermione ships make me want to puke. It's just nasty... It was very hard for me to get past the whiny and annoying Harry in the books and try to find one that would actually be likeable, so I'm glad you like the story... I'm glad I helped you procrastinate. Being a procrastinator myself, I take the job very seriously. Heehee. Anyways, we should talk more! So, I'm glad we are. It'll help us both not get swallowed whole by the evil monster that is sophomore year.......... dude, long thank you.
Dolphingirl79: No Ginny didn't smack Ron. Darn. That would've been fun. But don't you appreciate his murderous tendencies now that we've found out what a jackass Devon is?
D.Torres: I like how you phrased that; Harry falling on his sword for Ginny. But you'll just have to-I love this part-wait and find out. Heehee, I love knowing things that other people don't. It makes me want to cackle evilly. Hey, you know what? I think I will. Muhahahahahahaha!!!!!
Stompy-Sanji: lol, I suppose it was quite a shock when you found out that Harry didn't get Ginny pregnant. That would've been interesting... huh, maybe I'll make another story just about that! That is, if I get out of sophomore year alive. O! And you HAVE to write more of your Dean/Parvati story. It's so original and I love it!
Strayc@t: Yea, Molly is very different in this fic. Even though we don't know very much about her from the books, she's definitely an extreme in this story. Believe me, you'll see in a few chapters.
Chelles: Aw, thank you! You have no idea how happy it makes me to know that I am making someone besides myself laugh.
faer: Remarkable, huh? I like how that sounds. But as long as I'm making you laugh, I'm happy.
DBZ gal: You've never read a Harry/Ginny fic?!?! Craziness!... Well, actually, I've never read one either! Imagine that. O, except for this one called Fellytones and Fuzzy Slippers: A Love Story. But it was mostly Ron and Hermione with just a little bit of Harry/Ginny-ness. Anyways, I'm glad that you decided to try something new and read my story! What ships do you normally read about?
Josh Potter: Thank you so much. I hope that I got everyone's reactions to the news right. I mean, it's pretty easy to say that Ginny's brothers would be totally pissed and ready to kill, but I was skeptical on Harry. Especially because we don't really know his feelings for her yet.
Luna Lovegood2: Okay, first of all, I love your name. Luna's my all time fav. Anyways, I'm glad I had you laughing, that's my job and I love doing it. Damn, I wish that was an actual job...
Baygirl44: lol, actually, I cant wait for the boys to beat Devon to the ground either. Especially after the letter. Heehee, sometimes having older brothers is a plus.
Herbie: oh yay! I made your cold winter day enjoyable! That makes me feel so good. Is it snowing where you are? It just snowed today, and, during a study hall, me and my friends went and had a snowball fight. Heehee, might not be the driest thing to do, but it was fun!
mark: aw, thanks. Well, here's a third, and there's a lot more where that came from.
Ranting Idiot: Lol, at first, when I saw your name, I was like 'oh crap, this person doesn't like my stuff.' But then I realized that it was actually your name, and not just something you made up... wow, anyways, thanks so much. A lot of people (including you) have said it's interesting, and that can only mean good things.
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