Chapter 3

Revelations

The minute Ginny walked in the door, she felt very inclined to change her mind. Not only was she nauseous and fatigued, she just wanted to get this over and done with. And judging by the crowd gathered in the living room, that was not going to be even remotely possible. To begin with, everyone would be all excited to see her up and around, making such a fuss over her that she would never even get the chance to get a word in edgewise!

And once she actually told her mother and father, they would just coddle her, never let her leave the house! She loved them and all, but sometimes they were a bit overprotective. She couldn't blame them really, what with her being the only girl and the youngest, but sometimes it was just a bit too much for her.

The only thing that kept her going was Harry's strong, sure hands on her back leading her over to where her immediate family was gathered. She hadn't been aware that her two older brothers were coming to visit that week, as well as Lauren and Riley. Lauren was Bill's wife, a fellow Gringott's worker, and Riley was Charlie's fiancé, a studier of ancient dragons. It was quite surreal, actually, how well they all matched.

Fred and George were huddled in a corner with their respective girlfriends, Angelina and Katie. It vaguely registered in Ginny's mind that Katie was George's fiancé now; they were set to be married late the following year, in December. Strangely, Hermione and Ron were missing from the little get-together. Great, just what Mum needs, Ginny thought. Two impending weddings, and now I have to drop this bomb on her.

The moment she walked in the room, all conversation stopped, and everyone turned their eyes to the doorway to see a tall, raven haired boy leading a very frightened redhead into the living room.

Before Ginny could get a sentence out of her mouth, however, Mrs. Weasley came running up to her, squeezing her into a bone-breaking embrace. "My baby . . . my baby," she kept saying over and over, rocking Ginny back and forth.

"Uh . . . Mum . . . 'your baby' can't breathe," croaked Ginny.

Molly quickly let her go, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. "I'm so sorry, darling. Better now? Would you like something to eat? To drink?"

"Mum . . . I really need to talk to you. Alone," she added, motioning toward the kitchen.

"Of course, dear. Come on then," she smiled, beaming with pride.

Ginny turned to look at Harry who gave her a gentle push toward her mother and nodded his head. She gulped and followed her mother into the kitchen, grateful that her father had decided to stay behind in the living room.

When they were finally alone, Ginny decided it would be easiest for her to just screw up her courage and blurt it out. "I was raped," she mumbled hurriedly, glancing down at the floor, her cheeks flaming.

Molly froze in her tracks. The frying pan that she'd been levitating toward the stove clattered to the floor with a deafening crash - or so it seemed to Ginny, anyway. Any little sound was magnified to a hundred times its regular decibel level in the silence that followed her statement. "Oh . . . " her mother gasped, clutching onto the back of a wooden chair for support. Abruptly, however, she let go and fainted.

"Mum? Mum?" Ginny yelled. She bent down beside her still mother and began frantically shaking her, an expression of mingled guilt, worry, and fear on her pale face.

The kitchen door swung open, revealing Arthur's worried face. He'd heard Ginny's yell from the living room, as had everyone. "Ginny? Ginny dear, what happened?" he asked in a rush, bending down to Molly and gently shaking her, while trying to pry Ginny's hands from her shoulders. He looked over at Ginny and noticed that tears were streaking down her cheeks. "Ginny, what's wrong darling? What's happened?"

She couldn't answer, just simply burst into sobs.

"Oh, dear," muttered Arthur. "Harry! Harry I think you'd better get in here!"

The door swung open once again, and this time Harry rushed into the kitchen scene. He took everything in: Ginny in the corner, bawling her eyes out, and Arthur shaking the prostrate form of Molly. He looked at Mr. Weasley, not sure what he wanted him to do, and Arthur impatiently nodded toward Ginny.

Harry walked over to where Ginny was sitting against the cabinets, knees drawn up to her chest and tears staining her cheeks. "What happened, love?" he asked quietly. He was kneeling beside her, their foreheads nearly touching. He ran his fingers tenderly through her hair, an action that always seemed to have a soothing effect on her.

Ginny didn't answer, but her tears started to flow even harder and faster. Harry didn't push the issue, he knew better. Talking no further, he extended his hand and she took it. He pulled her to her feet and she stood, looking up at him gratefully. However, she looked once more toward her mother laying prone on the floor and her eyes rolled back into her head. The stress and pressure was all too much for her, and she collapsed, letting the blackness flood her mind.

Harry reacted quickly, grabbing her around the waist before she hit the floor. He put one arm behind her knees and kept the other round her waist, swinging her up off the floor. Ginny's arms lolled helplessly at her sides. Harry again looked to Arthur, silently inquiring as to what he should do now. Mr. Weasley nodded toward the stairs. Mrs. Weasley was currently fluttering her eyelids, and moving quite a bit more. Harry was glad to know that she'd be all right.

Harry glanced at Ginny's pale face worriedly. He could tell just by looking at her that the stress was getting to be too much. There was just so much in her life that a normal seventeen year old would never have to deal with. From the very first time she'd met him, she had been in danger, as had everyone Harry knew.

In her first year, there had been the Riddle thing. In second year, she had to deal with her brother almost being killed. In her third, there was the Triwizard Tournament, which didn't put her in danger so much as she had to watch those she loved go through the whole catastrophe. Fourth year was the real turning point for her; she had definitely grown a lot during that year. She was one of the many involved in the DA, and as always, closely involved in the adventures of the famous trio that year. She had been a part of the whole Department of Mysteries tragedy, which had almost cost her her life numerous times.

Her fifth year was most likely the one she would always remember, as it was the year Lord Voldemort was defeated by Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It'd been at the cost of many lives, Dean Thomas and Professor Dumbledore's included. Dean Thomas had been the only Gryffindor to lose his life fighting the battle, and was severely mourned by many, especially Ginny. And then, to top it all off, she had gotten raped in sixth year. Seriously, thought Harry, Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place in the Wizarding World?

Harry gave a slight shake of his head, dismissing the negative thoughts from his mind. When he reached Ginny's room, he pushed the door open with his foot, and almost threw up for the second time that night.

"Bloody hell!" he yelled, accidentally dropping Ginny to the floor. That woke her, and she sat up, rubbing her shoulder where she'd struck the desk on the way down. She shook her head, still woozy.

"What the hell?" she mumbled confusedly.

Harry didn't notice her perplexity, however, as he was too busy stumbling out the door yet again. Only when Ginny gingerly got to her feet and turned around did she see why Harry had run out the door. "Oh, shit," she said.

"Nice reaction, really, Gin," growled Ron.

The only difference from the scene Harry had witnessed before was that this time Hermione was on the floor, crumpled up clothing and sheets wrapped around her bare body.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm happy for the both of you. It just means I lost the bet, is all."

"Bet? What the hell are you talking about?" asked Ron angrily.

"Haven't you heard by now? The whole of Gryffindor was taking bets as to when you were going to get it through your impossibly thick head that Hermione liked you, and you liked her. I bet not until you were at least 20. And by the way, next time you decide to act out seven years of sexual tension, kindly find a place other than my bed to do it."

"Very nice of you, Gin. When did you come out of your hole, then?" asked Hermione sarcastically.

"I wasn't 'in a hole', Hermione, I just wasn't feeling well," she answered quickly.

Before Hermione could reply, however, Ginny clutched at her stomach, and grabbed onto the desk for support.

"Ginny? Ginny, are you okay?" asked Hermione, but Ginny didn't reply. She rushed out the door, still clutching her stomach tightly.

She met up with Harry, who was just coming out of the bathroom, but before he could get in a word to her, she pushed him aside. She just made it to the floor in front of the toilet before she vomited. Harry turned back around, and without being asked held back Ginny's shoulder length locks as she continued to vomit. There was no question as to whether or not he would leave her alone, he just couldn't.

When she finally sat up, there were tears pouring from her eyes, and her face was sweaty and clammy.

"Harry . . . d'you think . . . do you think I'm pregnant?" she whispered. It was plainly obvious to Harry that the thought hadn't just occurred to her — she must have been thinking about it for some time.

That particular thought hadn't occurred to him, but when she brought it up it hit him like a ton of bricks. If she was (and he was damn sure she was, what else would cause her to feel tired, sick, and faint all of a sudden?) than what was she going to do? Certainly, she couldn't raise a child by herself, and Mrs. Weasley had enough to worry about. She cared for Bill and Lauren's three children all week, and she wasn't all that young anymore. She wouldn't be able to handle an infant, added to the three she already had. And Ginny would need someone to watch the baby when she went back to school.

Then, realization dawned on him . . . he looked across at Ginny, who currently had her head buried in the toilet again, and he knew, he just knew, that he, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived was in love . . . with Ginny Weasley. It flashed through his mind that if he was realizing this then, when she was in a most unflattering position, than how could he not love her? One does not generally declare their undying love to someone while that someone is puking their brains out, however. It was just a rule of thumb. You prat, don't tell her at all! A voice inside his head screamed. She was just raped, do you think she has much trust in the male population at the moment? Wait . . . just wait, and it will happen if it's meant to happen.

Finally, when Ginny felt a bit better, she raised her head. Harry was staring at her; well, she had expected this. But what she hadn't expected was the emotions she could see swirling beneath the exterior. Not utter revulsion and disgust, as she thought it would be. But with, dare she think it . . . something akin to love. She could have sworn she saw a thin layer of mist appear in his eyes, but she blinked and he was back to normal. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"I — I just don't like to see you like this, Gin, that's all," he answered embarrassedly. "You've been through so much already, you really don't need this stress."

"Harry," she whispered. "What if . . . what if I am pregnant?"

She sat back, slumping against the bathtub, and waited for his answer. She guessed that somewhere in her conscious, she was expecting Harry to make things right, to make them better than they currently were. He'd always been there for her, all through her years at school, and she automatically turned to him when things went wrong.

"Um . . . " he stuttered awkwardly.

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with my problems, you have enough on your plate as it is," she said quickly, and stood up. It wasn't until she stood that she realized the mistake she had made. Her head swam dizzily, and she saw the floor looming up in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut, fully expecting to feel her face crack into the marble floor, but instead she landed on something quite soft. She looked up to see Harry's concerned face gazing down at her.

She couldn't say anything. It seemed that once more emotion replaced logic, and she quite suddenly buried her face in his neck and felt hot tears seep from the corners of her eyes. "God, I really need to stop doing this," she mumbled against his skin.

He shuddered at the contact of her lips against his neck, but didn't say a word. He knew that if he made a move too soon, he'd push her even further away than she already was, which could prove to be a very dangerous thing.

He rubbed her back soothingly, and said, "Ginny, if you're pregnant, you won't have to go through this alone, I promise. I'll be there for you every step of the way, even if you're not — you know, going to have a baby."

She pulled away and looked into his emerald green eyes. "Do you mean that, Harry?" she asked softly, wisely. "Are you ready for the responsibility of a child? If there is a child, that is."

"What do you mean, Gin? Of course I'll be there, how could I not be? Look," he said, waving his hand in the air as if to clear the troubling thoughts. "You don't even know if you're pregnant yet. Why don't you just do the charm?"

She sighed. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm afraid of the answer."

"Don't be, love. Whatever it says, you'll have a family that loves you . . . and you'll have me, of course," he replied confidently.

"Okay," she sighed, reaching for her wand in her back pocket, only to realize that she didn't have it. Shit, she cursed silently. She had promised herself that after what had happened, she would always carry her wand with her, wherever she went.

Harry, noticing her angry expression, reached into his pocket and slipped his wand out. He hesitantly handed it to her, not sure if she'd hug him or beat him for the gesture. She took the wand, expressionless, and lifted her shirt to bare her midriff. A faint pink color appeared on her cheeks. Harry, on his part, couldn't help but notice the milky whiteness of the skin on her stomach, but quickly averted his eyes before she realized he was staring.

"Okay, here goes nothing . . . " she said, and pointed the wand to her stomach.

She muttered the charm and a flash of light shot from the tip of Harry's wand into the air, blinding the both of them.

"Bloody hell!" Harry yelled, before the world was lost to the both of them.