Return to Grimmauld Place

Chapter One: Back at the Burrow

A/N: If you believe Harry Potter is mine, obviously you have been stung by a few too many billywigs.

Ginny dusted herself off as she stepped into the empty kitchen. The house was quiet, but she could hear voices through the open windows. She stepped over to one and looked out, watching her family at a more-lively-than-usual meal. Ron and Hermione were arguing good-naturedly on one side of the table, Fred and George arguing good-naturedly on the opposite side. Her mum seemed to be scolding someone roundly, but Ginny couldn't be sure whom. Bill was laughing, listening to their father, who was talking in that animated way he had when he was discussing some fascinating Muggle invention.

Arms slid around Ginny's waist and she jumped.

"I didn't know you were coming," Harry murmured in her ear, pulling her against him.

"I didn't know there was something to come for," she replied, willing herself to relax. "What's going on?"

"Bill's got a bit of a job, curse-breaking for the ministry. He's taken leave from Gringott's to help sort out Voldemort's and the Death Eaters' belongings." He kissed the top of her head lightly and tucked her under his chin. "What brought you home?"

Ginny hesitated, then said, "I imagine Dumbledore knew. He told me this would be a good weekend to floo home."

Chuckling, Harry agreed, "He keeps track of everything." Then he pulled away and turned Ginny to face him. "But that's not all, is it? Something's worrying you." He looked into her eyes, searching, and it was all Ginny could do to stare back innocently. When she didn't respond, he simply took her hand and kissed it, saying, "Let's go outside, I'm starving."

Ginny smiled gratefully and followed him outside. After an enthusiastic greeting all around, she squeezed onto the picnic bench between Harry and Hermione. The lively conversation flowed over her: Bill and her father debating what they'd find at Malfoy Manor, Fred and George laughing with Harry over events at the joke shop, Mum fussing over Ron while Hermione egged her on. Although she felt distant from the conversation, it soothed her a bit, and she dug into a jacket potato. She kept feeling Harry's eyes on her, and felt momentarily thankful that he was more subtle than her Mum (and that her Mum was occupied with Ron) because somehow, she wasn't quite ready to make an announcement, and certainly not in front of everyone.

Finally Fred and George brought out the pudding, and Ginny laughed along with everyone else as the chocolate treasure box opened and rained sweets on Bill. After they'd eaten their fill, and had a good deal more conversation, the group began to break up. First Hermione, saying she had an early morning ahead, stood up, but Ron wheedled at her to sit until Bill finally intervened, dragging him upstairs to the room they were sharing. Fred and George consented to stay over, wooed by their mother's promise of breakfast. Ginny suddenly realized she was in danger of being alone under Molly's searching eye and stood up as well.

"You do look a bit peaky, dear," Mum said, hands cupping Ginny's face. "Not pining away, are you?"

That brought a fierce blush to Ginny's cheeks, but Harry just laughed and said, "No, Mum, that's me doing the pining. Don't worry though, I promise to let her get some sleep."

"Very well, off you go then." She kissed each of them on the cheek and shooed them into the house.

Harry slid his arm around Ginny's waist. "Well, that wasn't too bad, was it?"

"No," Ginny admitted as they started up the stairs. "Are you really pining, Harry?" she teased halfheartedly.

He chuckled, but didn't answer at first. Finally, when they paused on the landing, he murmured, "Maybe a little bit."

Struck dumb, Ginny mechanically opened the door and went in. She pretended not to notice Harry's eyes following her about the room. They seemed to bore into her as she removed her earrings, washed her face at the basin on the dresser, and brushed the rest of the soot out of her hair. Puttering around, she dug through the top drawer of her dresser, hung up her robes in the closet, anything to keep from turning around and looking to see Harry watching at her.

It's not supposed to be like this, she thought desperately. Seventh year should have breezed by, just a little hiccough in their relationship. Everything in the right order… Ginny would finish at Hogwarts, they would get themselves a flat in London or maybe Hogsmeade, or perhaps Harry would come off the reserve team and really play Quidditch professionally, and she'd do well enough on her N.E.W.T.s to apprentice the team trainer… Abruptly, Ginny shook her head and sighed. Well, perhaps they were girlish dreams after all, but that was what she'd imagined when Harry had asked her to marry him last summer, not--

"Ginny? Gin, honey, stop worrying that thing and come to bed."

Looking down, Ginny saw that she'd picked up a -- what was it? A handkerchief? No, worse, a pair of knickers -- and twisted it quite viciously into a rope. She continued to stare down at it until Harry came over and prised it out of her hands. Then he took her in his arms, and she could feel him shaking, tension pulsing in his muscles.

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong," he finally said, in a croaky, flat voice, "I just need to know if you regret… if you're having second thoughts."

At that, Ginny burst into tears. "No," she wailed into his shoulder, "but I'm afraid…"

It was as if a great weight came off his shoulders then, and he relaxed, stroking her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder. "Then, whatever the problem is, it'll be all right." Finally, after standing there holding her until she'd cried herself out into sniffles and hiccoughs, he kissed her forehead and whispered, "Come to bed, sweetheart, I promise it'll look better in the morning."

Ginny nodded, slowly extracting herself from his embrace and fumbling for a handkerchief. After blowing her nose noisily, she allowed Harry to help her into her nightclothes and guide her to bed. She turned away from him, staring blankly at the photograph on her bedside table, but still he curled up behind her as usual. His arm found its way around her, sliding just underneath her breasts, with his hand tucked underneath her, pulling her tight against him, and he stole half her pillow, his breath tickling the nape of her neck. Sighing, she settled back against him and willed herself to fall asleep.

Feeling as if she had lain awake for hours, Ginny finally convinced herself to tell Harry. After all, she thought, Mum will have it out of me in the morning if I don't look better rested. She took a deep breath and whispered, "Harry? Are you awake?"

"Hmmm?" he mumbled sleepily, burrowing his nose against her neck.

Despite herself, Ginny smiled as a shiver ran down her spine. "Harry, wake up, I have to talk to you!"

"Mmmm… no, too comfy," he protested sleepily, pressing his lips against her skin. Already, though, he sounded more awake, and Ginny knew the moment he remembered, because he tensed slightly and pulled her firmly against him.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, she gathered her courage and breathed, on the tiniest whisper of sound, "Harry, I'm pregnant."

At first it seemed as if he hadn't heard, but gradually she realized that his whole body was shaking. Finally he gasped, "Oh, Gin, I'm sorry," and burst into laughter.

Tears glistening in her eyes, she pulled away and turned to face him. "HARRY POTTER! Why are you laughing at—" she began, but the remaining words were muffled as he pulled her underneath him and kissed her thoroughly. Breathless when he finally pulled away, she merely stared up at him, blinking in the dim light at his grinning face.

"Your mum," he said, still chuckling, "is going to have kittens."

She gasped indignantly and punched him in the chest, and he rolled off her, moaning and clutching at his heart in exaggerated pain. "Serves you right," she cried, slapping at his free hand. "Here I've been agonizing over this for positively ages, and what do you have to say? 'Mum's going to have kittens!'"

"Well," he teased, "you know she is." But as Ginny's lower lip started trembling and her eyes brimmed again, he abruptly sobered. Propping himself up on one elbow, he looked down at her and asked, "What are you afraid of?"

After a moment's hesitation, she admitted, "You being angry. Or disappointed. Or feeling… trapped."

Harry brushed a wayward tear from her cheek with his thumb. "No, Ginny," he whispered, "not at all." And he bent to kiss her again, his fingers traveling lightly over her still-flat stomach. "I'm… it's probably selfish, but I'm excited. I know this is going to be awfully difficult for you, but…" A grin spread across his face again, as if he couldn't contain it. "Oh, Gin, are you too annoyed with me?"

Feeling disoriented, as none of this conversation had gone remotely the way she'd imagined any of the hundred times it had played through her head, she repeated, "Annoyed?"

"For complicating seventh year for you. I know…" he hesitated, looking away from her. "I know I wasn't properly paying attention, last time, when I cast the spell."

Ginny grinned, remembering Valentine's weekend at The Three Broomsticks. "Yes, but it mightn't have mattered," she said. "After all, I am a Weasley."

Harry laughed. "There is that, but still, Trelawney predicted I'd have a dozen."

A/N: Well, I have been bitten by a competing plot bunny, and Ginny is having a hard time finding a way to break the news to her family, so this isn't coming along as quickly as I'd hoped, but nonetheless it's coming along. As always, comments, suggestions, questions and constructive criticisms are most appreciated. Thanks to Beth5572, a.k.a. Terri, for being my first brave reviewer.