Ginny woke up, and promptly vomited all over herself.

'Scourgify,' she muttered in annoyance, and then ran to the bathroom to rinse the stench off herself.

Under the hot water, she sang softly, letting the water running all over her remind her of the last night she had spent with Harry.

'Ginny,' he had said softly, propping himself up and looking down at her like no one had ever looked at her before.

'Hm?' she had said sleepily, looking at him the same way.

'If – when I beat Voldermort – will you m-marry me?' Ginny had sat up and kissed him.

'Hell yea,' she had whispered, laughing as Harry pulled her back down onto the bed, kissing her.

And now, here she was, two weeks later, sick in heart and body. At least she had Hogwarts to go back to after summer ended.

Harry would've loved to know it had opened again. Lupin had wanted to bury him next to Dumbledore, at Hogwarts, where he had spent the happiest days of his life. Everyone agreed.

Ginny's line of thought was interrupted as she ran to the toilet, and barfed for the second time that day. She was sure it wouldn't be the last.

Later that week, Tonks and Hermione took her shopping for her school supplies in Diagon alley. Ginny laughed for the first time since Harry died, sandwiched in between a crabby, pregnant Tonks, and Hermione, sparkling with somewhat subdued joy about her engagement to Ron.

''Slong as you don't call him Won-Won, Hermione, I approve whole heartedly,' Ginny said, causing Hermione and Tonks to burst into fits of giggles.

But when their ice cream came (Florean Fortescue's son, Roger, had re-opened his father's shop), Ginny had to make a beeline for the bathroom again. Cursing every sickness she knew of, she vomited over and over again.

Straightening up, she realized that Hermione was holding back her hair. Tonks was rummaging in her robes for something, and finally pulled out a small phial of lavender-colored liquid.

'Drink this,' she said, and thrust it into Ginny's hands. Ginny drank it, and was relieved to feel her stomach settle. She stood up, helped unwillingly by Hermione. Tonks looked at her carefully, eyes showing disbelief.

'Ginny,' she said, slowly 'how long has it been since you last had your period?'

That night, a thoroughly miserable Ginny sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by her family, the Lupins, Hermione, and Fleur.

'Completely irresponsible - '

'Mum –'

'Who's the father, Ginny!'

'Bill –'

'Bloody bastard, getting our sister pregnant!'

'Fred, George –'

'I'll kill him!'

Ginny had had enough.

'Well, Ron, you can't, because he's already dead!'

She began to cry the tears she had held when Harry died. Ginny rested her forehead against the edge of the table, body wracked with violent sobbing.

Hermione shot Ron a dirty look, ran across the room, gathered Ginny in her arms, and stroked her hair, murmuring soothing words to her.

'Sssh, Ginny, ssh, you can tell us when you're ready, hush, sweetie, hush.'

Hermione held Ginny until she cried herself to sleep.

Scooping his only daughter from Hermione's arms, Mr. Weasley carried her upstairs.

Mrs. Weasley tucked her in gently, and everyone kissed Ginny's cheek as they filed out of the room, ashamed they had made her cry so.