It was when he started dating that I moved out…

Her name was 'Ashley.' Nice enough girl. Nothing really wrong with her, nothing that a little Prosaic and a polo mallet couldn't fix. The night I saw them kissing on the couch, our couch, was the night I left. Three weeks later I set off for parts unknown. Because there was something else Harry couldn't know about I was pregnant.

I remember staring at the results. I was sitting on the tub in my parent's bathroom, still pining over the lost love of my life, determined to live and die alone. So when the strip turned pink, I did the only thing I could do: I started laughing. I laughed until my eyes watered and my parents came running to the door. I laughed as they looked at each other and debated on whom to call for help. I laughed, and I didn't stop for a good twenty minutes.

Wow, I thought. Life certainly likes its little curve balls. I get Harry. I lose Harry. I have Harry's love child.

It was too much. All I could do was laugh, because if I started to cry, I'd never stop.

I came to Matterly to live on my own. The pregnancy was simple enough. No complications, and I gave birth to Gillian Perdita Granger two years ago on May 1st. I named her Gillian after Harry's mom. I thought it a clever tribute. I think Lily would like it.

Gillian, Gill, Gilly-bean. She's, well, she's perfect. She has my accursed hair though, and I know some day that girl will resent me for it. But she has Harry's eyes. Everyone thinks so. They don't say it out loud of course, but they would if Harry were with us. I can only imagine his face on hearing it. It breaks my heart and makes me incredibly happy at the same time.

I still see him sometimes. I apparated down to London until my third term and then started again after the birth. I'm always alone though. Harry hasn't met my Gilly-bean. As soon as he saw her, he'd realize who the father is, and, somehow, I don't think it would mean as much to this Harry. This Harry, whose only thought in life is dating young, amorous witches and traveling round the world after rogue wizards. My Harry would…well, any way, things are fine the way they are.

Harry and I are still friends. We're not close, but we're friendly. We have lunch sometimes. He even surprised me, showing up at one of my book signings. I wrote "piss off" on the copy he handed me. He laughed when he read it, and for a split-second, I was treated to a screwed-up version of 'my look.'

I don't spend time at the Grove either. Mostly I just work on my writing and tend to Gill. She's brilliant of course. Shiny-as-a-button bright. She's also a very inquisitive little girl who likes to tear apart anything she gets her hands on. It'll be years before we can get a pet.

And she's so small. Tiny really. I can't imagine her growing up, playing sports, going to Hogwarts. I would love to see Snape's face when he finds another Granger in his classroom, raising her hand and bothering the hezpah out of him.

So, in other words, life is good, and I'm not just saying that to convince myself. I've found happiness after Harry. For a while, I didn't think I could, but I was wrong. I was wrong. Write that down because it's probably the first and only time I'll say it. Won't be the only time I'll hear it though. Gillian will start talking soon, and with all that Granger blood in her, she's sure to be as hard-headed as her mum. Hopefully she'll have enough of her father's good humor to balance it out.

I don't know what I'll tell her when she asks about him. Her Daddy. Hopefully, that day won't come for some time. I don't know if I'll be able to tell her the truth, and I'm less likely to lie to her. I guess I'll just wait and see. So, back to that strange state of limbo. But it's not so bad here, I'm getting used to it.