Ginny Weasley was madly in love. She gazed dreamily out the window of her office, her large brown eyes fixed on the brownstone face of the building across the way and her eyelids drooping. Several pages of a manuscript were spread around her desk, waiting to be corrected. Ginny had indeed been having a very challenging time trying to work. Every time she opened her inkpot, the silky blackness of the ink reminded her of Harry's hair. The feathers at the top of her quill were the exact color of his eyes. Unluckily, the manuscript she was now trying to read through was a history of the events and battles of the Second War; unsurprisingly, that had Ginny stumbling through memory lane.

Whilst she was recalling the weeks Harry had spent in hospital after Voldemort's fall, she heard a knock on her door. Roused out of her reverie, she quickly picked up her quill, dipped it in the inkpot, and said "Come in."

Somewhat disappointingly, it was Mr. Higgs.

"Ah, Ginevra. I see you're hard at work on that one. Well, it's a subject on which you're an expert, isn't it?" He smiled. Ginny felt a pang of guilt, but smiled back.

"Yes, sir. I'll have it on your desk by tomorrow morning." It was earlier than he had asked, but she felt slightly remorseful about daydreaming so much, and knew that once she got to it, it would be easy.

"Ginevra, tomorrow afternoon I'm calling a meeting in the conference room," Mr. Higgs said quietly.

"May I ask why?"

"I'm hiring a sales analyst. I think it will help the company decide better what it prints." He looked a little guilty, and Ginny wondered why.

After a couple seconds, during which the two smiled congenially at each other, Mr. Higgs said, "Good day, Miss Weasley," and staggered out the door.

"Miss Weasley," thought Ginny and chuckled. She was again distracted from her work as she remembered the events of yesterday evening.

Harry had taken her to a nicer restaurant than the ones they normally haunted. He was wearing a sport coat and had obviously made a great effort at getting his hair to lie flat. He had come to the door with a large bouquet of flowers that Ginny was almost certain he had obtained from Neville.

As they ate dinner, Ginny noticed that Harry was acting peculiarly; he was staring at her and they spoke much less than usual. The fact that Harry wasn't moping or frowning was of some comfort to Ginny, who began to suspect something of him.

When they were taking their normal walk back to Ginny's flat (it was their preferred meeting place, as Harry's was rather draughty and empty), he suggested that they have a seat in the park. It wasn't quite dark yet, so Ginny accommodated his wishes, though with a strong sense of foreboding.

And as they were sitting on a bench under a chestnut tree, watching the dusky sky, Harry asked Ginny to marry him.

She was surprised, but later on, it made perfect sense. They had been dating for just over six months now, and Harry had told her on more than one occasion that he was very serious about her. The combination of these, and the way he was behaving that night might have hinted to Ginny that he would propose, but she hadn't really been thinking along those lines.

Ginny finished checking the manuscript by six o' clock. She pulled out her wand and waved it over the page. Instantly, all the errors fixed themselves and Ginny's ink marks disappeared. She cleaned up her desk, grabbed the stack of papers and her cloak, and left the office. She dropped off the amended manuscript on Mr. Higgs' desk before going home to her fiancé.

The next day at three o' clock Ginny arrived in the conference room. She had brought her portfolio with her, as she expected to get another book to read over. She put her things on the table and took off her robes. Five of her colleagues were already there, which left only two: Mr. Higgs and the new employee (obviously, Whizz Hard Books was quite a small firm).

Ginny was having a quiet conversation with Faustus Hopper, the benign old warlock who worked the presses, when Magnus Higgs entered the room, followed by a tall young man with dark features and a large nose. Everyone's eyes followed the two to their chairs. Ginny observed the young man as he took some business cards out of his well-tailored robes. He suddenly looked up directly at her; she looked away promptly but felt her face go red.

"Alright, everyone. I am pleased to introduce Nigel Singh. I've already told all of you that Mr. Singh is here temporarily to asses our sales and possibly concentrate our efforts on one genre. He has come to us from Obscurus Books, which has since seen great improvements in sales." Titters were heard all around the table (Obscurus Books had never done very well, unfortunately).

"If you will, Mr. Singh, tell us a little about yourself," Magnus said.

Nigel Singh proceeded to talk about his published books, his history as a sale analyst, and lastly, his preference for nougat, which he seemed to think was funny, but which made no one laugh. He looked hopefully at Ginny, who smiled amiably at him.

The meeting progressed normally. Ginny was given a special project. It was an autobiography written by a Mermaid chief that was expected to sell huge numbers. Just as she and Mr. Higgs were discussing a deadline, a large barn owl swooped in through the open window and landed on top of Ginny's things. The owl was quite agitated and was pecking at Ginny's arm, so she unhooked the letter from its leg and unrolled it. It said:

'Ginny, Hermione having baby very soon. Please come to St. Mungo's. Healers won't let me in delivery room.

Love, Ron'

"Oh! Mr. Higgs, my sister-in-law's having a baby. Do you think I could-"

"Certainly, Miss Weasley. Take the rest of the day off. We'll decide on the deadline tomorrow."

"Thanks so much!" she breathed as she snatched up her things and caught sight of Nigel Singh winking and giving her a thumbs up before she hurriedly Disapparated.

Forty-five minutes after she had arrived at St. Mungo's, Ginny sat upstairs in a waiting room, surrounded by the excited relations of whoever was giving birth that afternoon. A middle-aged couple was sitting next to a pudgy man who appeared to be their son; three witches in their late-twenties were laughing and gossiping; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were holding hands and smiling at each other, and the Grangers did the same. The twins and Lee Jordan had also showed up (presumably Lee had been in the same room when the owl had arrived and had wanted to come, too), as had Harry, though of course this wasn't saying much since he was still without a job and didn't have anything else to do during the day.

Ron was pacing around door number 18, trying to peek in or hear something. Every now and then he would come back over to the benches and sit by his mother. As he got up for the eighth time since Ginny had got there, the door opened and an aged Healer appeared.

"It's a big, healthy boy. You may go in to see them, now," she announced happily. Seeing, however, that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the Grangers, the twins, Lee Jordan, Harry and Ginny rose when she said this, she amended, "Just the husband, for now."

So Ron was admitted to the delivery room. After a few more minutes, his beaming, flushed face poked out of the door and he beckoned them in.

As Ginny entered, she saw Hermione holding a bundle of emerald blankets, looking very tired indeed with large, dark circles under her eyes. Hermione's parents were the first to hold the baby boy. They were very curious about the Wizarding medical equipment, and considered the brightly-colored swaddling blankets very funny. Mrs. Weasley was the next to hold him. She and Arthur cooed to him for a long while, finally handing him back to Ron, whose face, normally so long and narrow, was split with a huge smile.

Ron's massive grin was suddenly directed toward Ginny.

"Here, Gin. You can hold him," Ron eased the baby into Ginny's arms.

Ginny hadn't held, or even seen, Corinthus until he was four months old, so this was a very powerful experience for her. The baby was very pale with a full head of red hair that was already somewhat darker than Ron's. He had a fat, squished face, but Ginny was quite certain that would improve with time.

"He's just over ten pounds," said Hermione sleepily. Needless to say, she had been given some sort of powerful potion for the pain, and her head lolled a bit, but she was still wearing the same proud expression as Ron (and Mrs. Weasley, for that matter).

Ginny returned him to Hermione, and everyone filed out, leaving the little family to it.

"Why can't I hold him?" complained Fred once they were back in the waiting room.

"He's a newborn. Not everybody could hold him," snapped Mrs. Weasley.

"But Ginny got to!" Fred protested.

"I'm a girl," she replied simply.

"I wonder what they'll name him," commented Mr. Weasley as they all took their seats again.

"I'm betting on 'Froglips'," said George loudly, causing Ginny to slap his arm very hard.

"George, that is a horrible thing to say. He's a beautiful baby," hissed Mrs. Weasley, glancing apologetically at the Grangers, who, anyway, looked uncomfortable being around magic wands.

"You two were ugly babies," said Mr. Weasley helpfully to the twins, "and look how you turned out!"

Later in the afternoon, Percy turned up with his son, who desperately wanted to see his little cousin. So another trip into room 18 was arranged, and this time, Ron and Hermione had a name: Julius. What is it with Wizards giving their children such weird names? Harry thought.

Eventually, after enough pictures had been taken with both Muggle and Wizard cameras, the family and friends dispersed and left Hermione, Ron, and their son alone for the night.