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 4: 1-2 Months

After I sent the letter, Hermione left me to fume in my room for a bit. I think she was afraid I'd go downstairs and tell my brothers to assemble a team of thugs and go 'straighten Devon out.'

As the weeks went by, I tried my best to keep my mind off of Devon and his sudden bastardness. So I constantly found myself standing in front of my full length mirror and examining my stomach. I would turn to the side and lift up my shirt to reveal the smallest hint of a bump. It didn't look so much like a baby-in-the-making, as it did like a beer gut.

"How far along are you?" Came a voice from my doorway. I immediately pulled my shirt back down and snapped to attention. Harry was leaning against the doorframe with a grin on his face. I instantly relaxed.

"About a month." I said, pulling my shirt up again to examine my stomach. "But I just look fat."

This was true. Why couldn't I be one of those pregnant celebrity mums? The ones who somehow make having an enormous stomach glamorous. They glow and smile while they're toting around these tummies. And they still wear marvelous clothing. They act as if their stomachs are their normal, flat and muscular selves as they go to premieres and such. And then, after the baby has been delivered, their bodies immediately transform back into their normal, beautiful selves.

"You're not fat." Harry said kindly.

Good boy.

"Then what do you call this?" I asked, pointing to my exposed stomach. I was practically begging for compliments. But what did you expect? Devon had humiliated me, I deserved an ego boost.

"I call this," Harry said, placing a hand on my stomach and looking into my eyes. "beauty."

I could feel my face get hot. The bastard. Saying things like that when I'm carrying another man's child! The mood changed quick as a flash, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious. I stepped away from Harry's touch, and pulled my shirt down over my stomach.

Harry seemed to sense the change as well. He broke eye contact with me and pulled back his hand. As he crossed his arms and looked around my room awkwardly, I searched my brain for something to say. Something about how raw meats supposedly bad for you? Thank God Harry's brain worked faster then mine.

"That Devon guy's quite the bastard, huh?" He said, chuckling a little. I smiled, unbelievably happy that he was lightening the mood.

"Yea, you could say that." I sighed.

"Is there another way you'd describe him?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Pompous asshole. Lying fucker. Slimy git." I counted each name on my fingers. Harry laughed, making me smile wider.

"How'd a jerk like Devon ever land a girl like you?" He asked, eyeing me fondly.

I blushed. I know! What's wrong with me? I shouldn't be blushing. Why was I going all girly and shy on him all of a sudden. It was just Harry. Okay, so maybe I had had a crush on him when I was younger, but things change. We're friends. Friends don't make friends blush.

Frankly, I blamed it on the pregnancy. It was messing up my emotions. That was the reason. Seriously.

Finally, after I finished blushing and a few girly giggles had escaped, I spoke.

"Well, according to Ron, I'm not that great of a catch. Since I've dated half the school and all." I said, finally feeling my face go back to it's normal temperature.

"That doesn't make you any less of a catch." Harry said. I laughed, but he said, "No, seriously. I know tons of guys who wish they could catch you, but you're too far out of reach. Hell, the best Seeker at Hogwarts couldn't even catch you."

What did he mean by that? Well, I understood the part about me being too good for most guys. (Did I mention how much I love Harry?). But what was this Seeker talk? I'd never really understood sports analogize. True, I had been on the Quidditch team, but once people start mixing it with real life, then you loose me.

So I just sat there (somehow we'd managed to both be sitting on my bed), and tried to think of what he was talking about. I didn't break eye contact with him the whole time.

The best Seeker at Hogwarts... but, Harry was the best Seeker at -oh my God. He was trying to catch me? Why didn't someone inform me about this?! I would have gladly ditched anyone of my boyfriends for Harry... wait, what was I saying? Harry was my friend. He wouldn't like me, would he? I mean, I gave him four years of my undivided attention, how much more of an invitation does the boy need? He doesn't like me. He can't like me.

It was like a scene in the movies. I was looking into Harry's eyes as half of my brain tried to decode his words. And the edges of my vision of him started going fuzzy in a dream-type fashion. Like they did in the old black and white films right before a couple kissed.

"Ginny!" my mother yelled from downstairs.

I immediately broke eye contact with Harry and looked off to the side.

"Yea?" I answered half-heartedly. The mood was gone. Whatever was going to happen, or not happen, was killed like *that*.

"I thought I asked you to do the laundry." She called. "Delivering a baby is going to be nothing compared to what I'll do to you if I don't see the clothes drying outside in the next twenty minutes."

~*~*~*~

I continued to owl Devon. About three times a week. And never once did I call him all the names I'd been associating his face with in my head. My sugary-sweet composure never rubbed off. But weeks pasted and he still didn't respond. Not even a howler, or a note scribbled on a napkin, saying, "Leave me alone" or "I hate you." Not that I'd be jumping for joy at the arrival of a letter like that, but at least I'd know that he didn't suddenly fall off the face of the earth. Of course, that doesn't seem like such a bad thing, once you think about it.

None the less, I was distressed. Without family problems (such as my violence-hungry brothers), I was left with a lot of time to just sit and think. And the more thinking I did, the worse life seemed.

I was sitting in the grass of our backyard when the thought occurred to me. I was going to be a single teen mother. I'd have to take care of this baby; and get a job; and track down Devon, nagging him for child support. And I wasn't even old enough to drink my problems away!

"Ginny?" Harry asked loudly. He was standing in front of me, and I was staring right at him. But I was just too caught up in my horrible future to acknowledge his presence.

"Oh," I said, sounding as if I'd just come out of a coma. "hi."

"What's wrong?" He asked, sitting cross legged next to me.

"Everything." I said, being very overly dramatic. Still, Harry looked concerned.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at me with his head tilted to the side in a sympathetic fashion.

"I'm going to be taking care of this baby by myself." I said, rubbing my stomach affectionately. I was now two months pregnant, but the bump was barely visible.

"You won't be alone." Harry said, catching my eye and smiling. "I'm here." He paused a few seconds, and then quickly added, almost as an afterthought, "And -um- so is your family."

My family! How could I forget? They might be a hot-headed bunch, but they still loved me. Plus, there were so many of them, there was no chance *all* of them would turn me down for help. Someone would have to give in.

"And, you never know, Devon might be there too." Harry said, forcing me to look at him as if he's sprouted another head that was now having a conversation with one of it's hands about jackhammers. You can imagine my expression.

"Obviously you've forgotten the letter he sent me. Allow me to assist you in remembering." I said, swinging my hand toward the back of his head. But Harry was too quick. He ducked, and I ended up nearly hitting myself. Sad, I know.

"You never know. He might just be waiting a few months before he comes crawling back." Harry said, laughing at my expression. "Maybe he's taking the time to pick out a nice engagement ring for you."

"I'm beginning to worry about your sanity." I said truthfully. "I'm only 18!"

"That Home Alone kid got married at 18, and look how great his marriage turned out." Harry said.

"His name is Macauly Culkin, and they got divorced." I corrected. Silly boy, thinking I don't know my muggles news.

"How'd you know that?" Harry asked.

"Have you forgotten who my father is?" I laughed. "Why are you sticking up for Devon, anyway?"

I tried not to let it sound like I cared too much. When, in reality, I was fearing that Devon and Harry had joined forces and were now conspiring against me... or, something that sounds less paranoid.

"How would you like me to react?" Harry asked. "Would you rather I start shaking with rage, turn green and grow so large that my clothes rip, and then go and kill Devon?"

"If it's not too much trouble..." I teased.

To tell you the truth, I was having so much fun just talking with Harry. He didn't feel the need to send Devon death threats, but he was still on my side. Unfortunately, Mother Nature suddenly felt like being a bitch; out of no where, buckets of rain started to fall from the sky.

Damn you Mother Nature! What did I ever do to you? I don't pollute, when there's a sign that says "Do Not Walk On Grass," I oblige, I've never cut down a tree, and I don't go around shooting animals! Why must you change the weather right when I was having a pleasant conversation?

Anyways, within seconds, I was soaked. Harry was too. He smiled at me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up onto my feet.

"Shall we run?" He asked, motioning toward the house.

"I'll race you." I said playfully. "But you have to give me a head start."

"Why?" He laughed.

"Because it's hard to run with this stomach!" I complained, even though my stomach was only a small bump.

"Okay," Harry reasoned. "Why don't you run on three, and I can-"

In the middle of his sentence, he started to run. Cheater! After a few seconds of shock, I started after him.

We were neck-in-neck, and nearly ran right into the back door. I fumbled with the doorknob as Harry tried to open it and get in first.

When I finally got the door open, the first thing my eyes landed on almost made me slam it shut again. Ron and Hermione were standing in the kitchen, kissing... a lot.

"Oh my God." Harry whispered. He and I were just staring at them, but the couple didn't seem to notice. I started to get a bit queasy, and closed the door, leaving Harry and I outside in the rain.

"I can't believe it." I said, my hand over my mouth in both shock and disgust.

"I know. I wish I had a camera." Harry said, laughing a little.

"Never mind a camera, I need a barf bag." I said, feeling the effects of either morning sickness, or the vision of my brother and best friend groping each other. "There was a little too much tongue for my taste."

"I can't help but agree with you on that." Harry said. "Hey, lets look again." He had this playful glint in his eyes that made me feel very wild. I agreed, and we both opened the door and poked our heads in.

The two of them were still going at it. A little too energetically, in my opinion.

"Do you think we should throw a condom their way?" Harry whispered. I tried to hold back a laugh, but failed miserably. I started giggling, and then couldn't stop.

Hermione heard me first, and her head snapped to where Harry and I were. She looked at us with wide eyes, made a little squeaking noise, and ran from the room. Ron glared at us, swore a few times, and bolted after Hermione.

Harry and I were nearly collapsing with laughter. Both of their expressions were just too much. We fell through the door, and leaned on each other for support. But I guess we weren't as sturdy as we thought, because we ended up slipping on the wet floor and falling to the ground. Well, Harry fell, and then I fell on top of him.

"Thanks for breaking my fall." I laughed, rolling over so I could see his face. I settled myself on top of him, being careful to avoid his groin area. I didn't want to de-man him or anything.

Harry and I just stared at each other, still silently laughing at the Ron/Hermione insistent. I absorbed all of his features, and saw things I'd never noticed before. He had really beautiful eyes. They weren't so much the color of 'fresh pickled toads' (oh God, don't remind me). They sparkled more. Kinda like emeralds. Except there was a hint of happiness behind them.

And his hair. It was soaking wet, of course, and sticking to his forehead. It covered up the scar that he was famous for. I unconsciously brushed the hair away from his forehead and revealed a very thin lightening bold scar.

Harry lifted his hand and pushed my damp hair behind my left ear. That brought my attention back to another one of his features. His mouth. It was positioned in a lopsided smile, sort of like Ron's but with more mystery behind it. I was craving to discover what the mystery was.

"Well that certainly can't be good for the baby." Came my mother's amused voice from above me. I blushed and looked up. She was a few feet away, smirking. And Hermione was standing next to her with a triumphant look on her face.

"Isn't that how you got pregnant in the first place?" Hermione said, scanning the position Harry and I were in.

I couldn't believe it. Just because I'd unintentionally broken up their snog fest, she had to get all nasty toward me. And in front of my mother!

I got up quickly, and Harry soon followed. I was blushing so bad I couldn't even speak. So my mother spoke for me.

"Ginny, Hermione, why don't you two start dinner." She said, still smiling. I nodded, and glanced quickly at Harry before Hermione pulled me toward the carrots that needed chopping.

"What was that all about?" She asked once everyone was gone.

"What?" I asked innocently, smiling to myself. "I fell."

"And couldn't get up?" Hermione laughed. "You were lying on top of him, Gin."

"I know it looked bad, but nothing happened." I said seriously as I began to peel potatoes.

"But, did you *want* something to happen?" Hermione asked, glancing quickly at me.

She just had to say it. I was trying so hard to ignore that thought. Harry and I were friends. I was over him years ago. But once I thought back to all of my 'close encounters' with Harry, I couldn't shake the feeling he gave me. It was a dizzy feeling that made it hard to see straight.

"Shit." I said under my breath.

Now that I was aware of my feelings for Harry, I wouldn't be able to talk to him! Literally. That's my pathetic way of showing someone that I like them.

I was so upset about this new discovery, I must have been taking my aggressions out on the poor potato I was peeling.

"Ginny," Hermione said sternly, ripping the mangled vegetable out of my hand. "calm down."

Calm down?! What was this woman talking about?!

"Hermione, you don't understand." I said, waving the peeler around dramatically. "I'll never be able to be normal around him now!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, silently telling me that I was over exaggerating. Just then, Harry came in to prove my point.

"Hey Ginny, do you know where Ron is?" He asked me, smiling warmly.

At the sound of his voice, I blushed and went all girly on him. I couldn't even talk! I just stood there, blushing like an idiot and giggling. He just cocked an eyebrow, making him look even hotter.

"He's in his room." Hermione said, saving me from any further embarrassment. Harry nodded, and left. Hermione turned to me with a very sympathetic look on her face.

"This is going to be worse then I thought." She sighed.

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Okay, first of all, I am soooooooooo sorry that this update is a few days over a week! I've had a really hectic week, and I haven't had any time to sit down and write. Let's just say that, me being 15 years old, I have my temps, and it's not going too well. I mixed up the gas and the break on Monday and ended up driving through my garage wall and into my laundry room. So now I have to go out and find a job to pay for the two new walls.
Also, last night I went to the Early November concert and nearly got killed. It was my first concert and I didn't know until it was too late just how unbelievably weak I am. I was in the mosh-pit (not the best idea for a girl who's just over 100 pounds), and got pulled into one of the fight things (you know, where everyone's jumping around and running into each other). That was not my idea of fun. Plus I got kicked in the head about a billion times because of all the crowd surfers.

Anyways, all that shit on top of homework and finals coming up, I've been really busy. So please forgive me for being late and not writing any thank yous in this chapter. I promise thank yous in the next one.

Hugs and kisses to all of the reviewers and readers,

Nicole

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