Return to Grimmauld Place

Chapter Two: That Went Well

A/N: Those who are under the impression that I am J. K. Rowling should visit the Welcome Witch, as I hear Gilderoy Lockhart is in need of a roommate.

Between Ginny's fitful sleeping and her rather lengthy midnight conversation with Harry, breakfast was well underway by the time the pair were awake enough to come downstairs the next morning. Her father and Bill, long gainfully employed and thus accustomed to early mornings, each had a section of the Daily Prophet open, propped against glasses and bowls to read while they ate. Ron, on the other hand, looked much more like she felt, sitting half-awake next to Hermione, having obviously been dragged out of bed to see her off.

Molly bustled over and tutted indulgently about Harry's half-dressed state and Ginny's utter lack of alertness. "Here you are, dears," she said, setting a glass of milk in front of each of them.

Suddenly wide awake, Ginny blanched, staring at hers with a mixture of apprehension and disgust, and stammered, "No thank you, Mum, I really—"

"It's good for you," Molly interrupted her.

"Seriously, Mum, it's—"

"Nonsense, dear."

"Mum," she asked desperately, "haven't we any orange juice? Pumpkin juice?"

Molly sighed, carrying a steaming platter of scrambled eggs to the table, which Ron immediately began heaping on his plate. "Well, all right then, if you must… drink up and I'll get you a glass."

Stomach roiling, Ginny pushed the glass as far away from her as she could without getting up or rearranging the platters of bacon, sausage and toast. "No, Mum, I really can't, I'll be ill."

"Don't be ridiculous!" she admonished. "There's absolutely nothing wrong—"

"Except I'm PREGNANT," Ginny exploded, losing her temper, "and milk just doesn't sit well with me right now!"

There was silence. Ron's mouth hung open, displaying half-chewed bacon sandwich, and Hermione beside him had a similar look (although her hand was covering her "o" of surprise). Burying her head against Harry's shoulder in embarrassment, Ginny still caught out of the corner of her eye Bill's expression, his face twitching as if it wasn't sure whether it was supposed to be glowering or grinning with laughter.

The silence was broken, however, by Fred and George's usual herd-of-hippogriffs-style entry into the kitchen. "What did we miss?" they began in unison.

Molly's squeal pierced the room and she rushed over to drag both Harry and Ginny into a hug. Ron, on the other hand, found his voice and croaked, "But – but that means – you and my baby sister—OW!"

Apparently Hermione had stomped on his foot, and she hissed, "Honestly, Ronald, didn't we have this discussion last summer? They're married! What did you expect?"

"At least until now I could pretend," Ron grumbled, and Bill finally gave in and roared with laughter.

Smiles of gleeful anticipation spread over Fred and George's faces as the meaning of all this disjointed conversation began to dawn on them. Had Ginny noticed, she would certainly have attempted to head off whatever was going through their minds, but (fortunately for her brothers) she was still being smothered. This had the advantage, in her mind, of putting off whatever her father's reaction might be, as he was instead occupied in calming his wife. It was impossible to get either lecture or congratulations in while Molly was chattering rapturously about grandbabies; he found it difficult enough to pry her away and maneuver her into a chair, but finally he managed.

Taking advantage of this, Hermione came over and hugged them both. True to form, she whispered in Ginny's ear that she'd be owling her a book, and a little less quietly offered Harry a hand in working up a budget before adding a rather reserved "Congratulations" and Apparating off to work. Harry groaned, but Ginny thought he had by far the better end of the deal; there was no way Hermione would be satisfied providing just a book.

Once the hubbub died down a bit, everyone got back to the business of eating breakfast, although both Bill and Arthur had abandoned the Prophet. Bill, unfortunately, made the mistake of responding to his mother's excitement. "See, Mum? And all this time you were worried you'd never have any grandchildren."

During the second or two that Molly spent in surprised silence, the twins turned to look at him in horror. Never mind that he was her favourite brother, Ginny's eyes twinkled in anticipation of what he had just walked right into. It was much more interesting to watch someone else be the center of her Mum's attention.

"William Arthur Weasley, don't think this lets you lot off the hook! You've eleven years – eleven! – on Ginny! I'd think there would at least be a move in that general direction! Maybe if you stopped wearing that horrid fang… and let me trim your hair…" The familiar rant continued, expanding to include Fred and George (now glaring at their eldest brother) as well as a sulking Ron.

Beside her, Harry was shaking with suppressed laughter and seemed to have completely given up on attempting to finish his eggs. Ginny, on the other hand, was feeling much better after getting that out of her system, and applied herself enthusiastically to the food on her plate.

Ten minutes later, the rant at her brothers had progressed into rampant speculation: whether she'd continue the Weasley tradition of bearing only boys, whether they should have a more public wedding first, what the baby would look like, and on and on. George leaned over and teased, "You threw me off my game, Ginny! Should have head her off before she hit her stride… now she'll never stop."

Harry slid his arm around her waist and shrugged. "Who cares? At least she's happy about it."

"Yeah, at least one of her children has done something right," Fred grumbled, but his eyes were twinkling. "We're all out saving the world…"

"But Ginny's reproducing, which is loads more important," George finished.

She did not dignify that with a response, other than to cross her eyes and stick out her tongue at her brothers. Harry, on the other hand, replied cheekily, "I know I'm impressed that she's managed to do both." He was somewhat less lucky, as his blushing wife seemed to think he deserved to be slugged in the shoulder for saying so.

"…I suppose they must be in the attic," Molly was saying as she began clearing plates, "along with all the baby things. I'll have to get started, won't I? How long do I have, Ginny dear?"

Ginny opened her mouth to explain she hadn't been to see Madam Pomfrey, but her mother rattled on before she could speak. "'Til November, I suppose," she continued, counting on her fingers. "Last Hogsmeade weekend, unless I miss my guess?"

Slightly green, Ron visibly shuddered, and Harry was blushing. Groaning, Ginny banged her head on the table. It was more than a little disconcerting to have your family speculate openly on when you'd had sex. "Yes, mum," she mumbled, studiously ignoring Bill's chuckles as he hid himself behind the paper again.

She slumped there, Harry's hand trailing comfortingly up and down her spine, and composed herself. If she rolled her head a bit in either direction, she could watch the others from behind her curtain of hair. Her mum enlisted Ron and the twins to assist her in distracting the ghoul and digging through the attic for her smaller set of charmed knitting needles and crochet hooks. Dad – bless him – seemed to realize that she was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Although she saw him giving Harry a look that plainly said they'd talk later, he stood without comment and headed out towards his shed.

Bill, on the other hand, seemed unable to take the hint. Finally, she lifted her head and glared at an article bemoaning the economic implications of the current swamp hellebore shortage. His voice floated out from behind the paper, saying mildly, "Don't glare at me like that, Gin-Gin." Another sixty seconds of glaring, however, and he stood up, saying, "You know we only want you to be happy, Ginny," in a tone that managed to convey both hope and doubt.

As he left the room, she sighed and turned to look at Harry.

"Well, that went well," he teased, and escaped up the stairs with Ginny chasing after him.

A/N: Well! That was a rough chapter for me. Even after rewrites, scrapping the whole thing to begin again, and more rewrites, it turned out a little choppy, I think. And of course I know some of you won't agree with the family reactions. Let me know how you feel (and why) -- it helps.

I think this answers the questions about the status of Harry and Ginny's relationship. I can't imagine Molly letting them share a room otherwise, can you:) As for canon evidence of pregnant students: No, we don't have it, and I don't think we need to have it for the situation to fit with canon. I went to a high school only a little bigger than Hogwarts, and I was blissfully unaware until my own senior year of the pregnancy "epidemic." And a blouse, skirt and blazer (our school uniform) is a lot less concealing than voluminous robes. (Not to mention, I hung out with a lot more girls than Harry does, and I was not distracted from their mundane gossip by an evil wizard trying to kill me.)

Thank you to my reviewers for all your lovely compliments. And a slightly less enthusiastic thanks to those who did me the compliment of putting me on "Author Alert" but were too lazy to comment ;)