Chapter 9 (13 Weeks):

19 June 2003

4:00 pm

"He's still out cold. I'm going to kill my brothers," Ginny muttered. Carefully, she shut her bedroom door behind her and rested against it. "They know he can't drink like that. He can't control himself."

"Alright, I'm just going to say it. He might've saved the Wizarding World, but that boy can't hang," Beatrice Brunette laughed from the sofa. She was sprawled out, tea in one hand and the Harpies' playbook in the other.

Morgan adjusted her position on her spot on the floor, leaning up against the sofa, and groaned, "And I'm pretty damn sure Jones is trying to kill us. Have you seen these new plays?" She waved the playbook in the air.

Ginny's stomach tightened. She didn't have a playbook. So, no, she hadn't seen it. She wouldn't get to play alongside Jones in her last game. Quidditch was nothing in her life until well into 2004, after six more months of pregnancy, pushing a human baby into the world (which made Ginny queasy even thinking about), and then spending tiresome nights and days tending to that said human baby.

Quidditch never sounded as scary. The rush of flying - swopping, twirling, soaring – and the physical roughness of shoving, pushing, racing - the euphoria of competing. Of winning. Of family with losses. The celebrated and cried together – as one – a unit – a team.

It sucked to be in that circle but staring in from the outside at the same time. Those small, seemingly unimportant moments that only a professional Quidditch player understood. How all of them worked their entire lives for those soars and falls. All the sore muscles, nights crying, loss of time with family and friends, and constant training. And Ginny was forced onto the sidelines once again.

Her entire existence was spent there. Involved, but not quite fully apart. All throughout Hogwarts, the war, and even now with the never-can-do-wrong Golden Trio. Sure, she loved Ron and Harry, and she grew to befriend Hermione, but even now, when they all got together, she was there but not fully one of them. Then, after so long of trying, she finally made it apart of something. She was a starter for the Hollyhead Harpies. Her dream of all dreams. She was there, among them, a part of them.

Yet here she was again. Apart of something, but not really.

Not now.

But she was also becoming a part of something that no one could ever take away from her. Something that no one else could ever quite be apart of in the same way. They could be apart of the circle, but it wouldn't be the same. Not the same for them as it would be for her.

Because in six more months, she would be at the center of the circle of this baby inside of her - she already was. She was all the baby knew - their protector and safe space from the world - and maybe it was selfish, but Ginny found a sense of purpose in those thoughts.

In six months, it would be the baby, Harry, and her in their own circle. Clearly, not a perfect one, but one that Ginny knew would be filled with love. And really, wasn't that all they needed?

"Ugh, Weasley, you sure you want to have this kid? These damn plays Jones has us doing to make up for Diaz are barmy tough," Morgan asked loudly. She tossed her playbook packet on to the floor. "I mean, I'm only one bloody person."

Ginny laughed- a genuine laugh for the first time in a while- and wondered over to her teammates. "As a matter of fact, yes. I'm sure. I want this kid, as you put it."

Brunette glanced over from her packet and nodded. "Well, then, good for you, yeah?"

"Yeah, it is." Ginny simply nodded and sat down next to Morgan, picking up the discarded playbook. She leisurely flipped through it.

The plays were verging on difficult, requiring a lot of teamwork and top-notch skills, but they were certainly do-able. Not to mention, they smoothly catered to Diaz's return and created a unit of force for the Chasers.

Ginny blew out a breath of air. These plays were good. The Harpies really had a shot this year. "Shit. You lot better be in tip-top shape is all I'm saying."

"Right? I think Jones is trying to murder me. You see where she put me in the plays? She has me playing in your spot," Morgan complained. She flung herself dramatically against the sofa.

Brunette snickered. "Well, she obviously couldn't put Diaz there."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Okay, for one, Diaz is good. Like really good. She's just been out for a while and needs to get the hang of it. So, stop that. When I make my return next year, you'll be saying the same about me."

"Okay." Burnette shook her head, obviously disagreeing, but returning to her playbook.

"And secondly, I'm sorry my absence is causing you to get off your lazy arse and stop slacking around the pitch," Ginny joked, tossing the playbook back at Morgan.

Morgan caught the playbook and set it down next her. "Well, I couldn't have said it better myself. So, thanks a lot. I was enjoying my slacking. Now, Jones' whole focus is on me."

"Now, you know how I've felt this past year." Ginny shook her head, smiling.

"Ah, sod off," Morgan laughed, standing up and stretching. "I'm making a cuppa? Anyone want some?"

"Here. Top me off." Brunette stated, shoving her mug into Morgan's hand. "No sugar, but milk please."

Morgan grabbed the mug and walked into the kitchen area. "Weasley?"

"Yeah, just plain, please." Ginny leaned back on one hand, stretching her feet out in front of her. Unconsciously, she free head rested upon her small, almost undetectable bump. Her stomach felt harder than normal yet rounder; it was honestly all quite bizarre. "Could you make a cuppa for Harry, too? Might help wake him up. Three sugars and milk."

"What am I? A house-elf?" Morgan commented, before filling the kettle and putting it on.

"Since we're speaking of Potter now…" Brunette started, testing the waters and trailing off.

"And?" Ginny raised her eyebrows, bemused.

"Well, you know, couples on breaks don't usually let their ex-crash in their beds," Brunette added slowly, watching carefully to gauge Ginny's reaction.

Sighing, Ginny hung her head. Her chin rested against her chest as she watched her stomach raise and fall with each deep breath, knowing that delicately scrunched within her each breath was received by the baby - each second it was growing - becoming more human-like… becoming her child.

Eventually, Ginny gazed back up and shrugged. "I know. I probably shouldn't. Like I'm sending mixed signals, but… but it's different this time."

"Heard this once or twice before," Brunette responded.

Morgan laughed from the kitchen area. "Or a thousand."

Ginny ran a hand through her hair. "No, it's just… you lot won't get it."

"Try us."

Ginny sighed again. She noticed a piece of thread on her pants and started picking at it.

"Weasley?"

Taking a breath, she glanced back at her bedroom door to ensure it was still closed. She knew deep down that hungover Harry would remain in bed until she forced him from it, but she also needed the assurance. "I'm serious. I wanted a break because I didn't want to need him."

"Okay, and?" Burnette pressed on.

Ginny hesitated, searching for the right words. "But I don't need him. I want him. Merlin, I want him, but I don't think I need him. I'm okay on my own. Really, I am, I think, but… but… I think he needs me. Maybe, a little too much."

Morgan scoffed from the fridge. "Oh, look at that, mutual need and want for one another. Man, I hate when I break up with a boyfriend for having a healthy relationship."

"I can't fix him, though. I mean, if he's drinking again. I can't do it. Not if he refuses to talk about it and act like it didn't happen. Merlin, you have no idea what it was like… how exhausting… every day being perfect bliss and happiness until night… and then… just not knowing… I'm so tired of not knowing."

"He only drank one time. Plus, didn't you take a break like a week ago?" Brunette clarified, looking between Morgan and Ginny.

Morgan was staring wide-eyed across the room and shook her head a little at Ginny, but now that she was talking, she couldn't stop. The words just kept coming.

"I know, because the break wasn't about him. He was fine. Fine! He's doing well at work, he's excited for the baby, and- and at least, I thought he was fine." Ginny paused, shaking her head. "The break was about me. How he can't fix me. And like I am feeling loads better recently, but I can't be dependent on him, you know. But now he's drank again, and-and what if something happens later on when we have our baby, and he slips up again? What if… I can't live my life- be who I am- if I'm worried about whether he's going to even make it home at night." Ginny wiped tears that she hadn't realized she was crying away and sniffled. "I can't do this… not again."

"Gin?"

Ginny inhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes shut, as Harry stepped awkwardly into the flat's small living area.

"Fuck." She covered her mouth with her hand, refusing to look at him. She had said too much; this was why she never spoke, because she knew how this routine with.

He'd get that deep, heavy anger in his eyes and lower his voice to that gravel sound. The signal that his pride had been hurt, betrayal had occurred, and his defenses had risen. Then, they'd fight and yell - screaming until Harry ended up begging for her forgiveness. Then, he'd bury it all away behind his stoic mask that he had spent years creating and they would never talk about it again.

Because Harry Potter was fine.

And he was an expert at dancing around problems, even as the flames licked at his feet.

And he was even better at pretending they didn't exist. Putting on a show for everyone around.

Which he would do.

It's all they had ever done. It's what their relationship was built upon.

Look where that brought them.

And it was times like these that Ginny envied Ron and Hermione. Everyone knew their blow out fights. The heat and passion and anger. But everyone also knew that they happened a lot less frequently now. Because Ron and Hermione talked. Hermione couldn't help herself until whatever problem was fixed, and Ron, no matter how much of a git he could be, cared way more than anyone ever gave him credit for. He was the ultimate confidant. Ginny remembered his advice: You've got to talk to him. It seemed so much simpler then.

"Uh, Morgan, I've got a craving for that Indian place down the road. You coming?" Brunette broke the silence.

Ginny heard her throw herself on to her feet and walk towards the door near the kitchen.

Morgan messed with the stove, taking the kettle off, and then followed. "Uh, yeah. Sounds delicious."

The door to the flat opened. Feet scurried out. Then, it closed.

"Gin?" Harry asked again.

She felt him walk slowly towards her and sit on the floor beside her. Wiping her eyes, she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"No, I'm-"

Ginny scoffed, half-choking on a sob. "I know you're sorry. You're always sodding sorry. And you didn't mean to hurt me. That you weren't thinking. You got caught up and didn't realize what happened." She squeezed her eyes tighter, pleading her tear to quit coming. "It's always the same thing. Over and over."

"Gin," Harry said again. "Ginny, please look at me."

Ginny bit her lip, shaking her head.

Harry scouted closer. "Please? Why not?"

"Because… because you're mad at me." Ginny cringed at the sound of her voice. Like she was a child again scared of a timeout. But she continued. "And I… I don't want to fight anymore with you."

"I'm not mad," He stated softly. "I promise."

The latter sounded so tender – so warm and fuzzy that it warmed Ginny from the inside out. A trusting place to fall.

"Okay." Ginny nodded. She wiped her eyes again, before finally opening them.

What she saw was not what she had expected.

His emerald eyes were sad but concerned. She could tell by the way his eyebrow pinched together. They were enclosed by two dark circles, and there was a glimmer to their shine. But no darkness. They were bright and green-

"As a fresh-pickled toad," she murmured.

"What?" Harry chuckled.

"Your eyes." Ginny smiled, leaning forward to place a hand on the side of his face. She gently rubbed her thumb over his stubble.

"My eyes?" Harry frowned, until he must've remembered the Valentine that she had sent him his second year and laughed breathlessly. "Really? What're you on about?"

"Well, their quite extraordinarily green today," Ginny whispered. Her heart fluttered at the way his eyes bore into her, and she knew he was trying to put together the pieces and figure out how she went from crying to citing a horribly embarrassing Valentine's card she wrote to him. She wasn't quite sure how she got there either. All she knew was that she wanted to kiss him - strong and passionately. With every piece of her fiber. She didn't need him, but she wanted him so badly.

After all, wasn't ignoring their problems and dancing around them until they reached the other end the foundation of their relationship?

So, Ginny did just that. With a blazing look in her eyes, she kissed Harry Potter. As fiercely and as passionately as she could. She poured everything she was feeling into this one single, fleeting moment.

And for a moment, he kissed back. Dazed and confused for a moment, his lips quickly got up to speed and he leaned into her touch. His own hands wrapping around her waist and getting tangled in her hair.

And it reminded her of the moments they snuck away during her fifth year. When everything had been simpler. Before Dumbledore's funeral.

It was pure bliss - a level of happiness that rivaled soaring on a broom in the sky. Here and now. Harry was here. With her. Safe and sound.

Then, Harry pulled away, leaving her lips cold and reminding her why he was even in her flat to begin with.

"Why'd you stop?" She pouted.

"I thought we're on a break?" Harry asked. There went his eyebrows pinching together again.

It was hard not to purposely confuse him when he looked so cute trying to solve things.

Ginny shrugged, grinning innocently. "We can be on a break and still have fun?"

Harry chuckled. "As tempting as that is, you were just crying."

"Yeah, but I'm not now. See? You fixed it. And I know how you can make it even better," Ginny teased, mischievously.

"C'mon, Gin."

She delicately placed a hand just above his knee and traced her fingers slowly up his thigh. "I know for a fact that the Indian place takes a very, very long time."

Harry swallowed hard. His eyes glancing between her fingers and her eyes. "We can't."

"Oh, but we can." Ginny smirked. She leaned in close to him again, trailing kissing down his jaw to her ear. Then, she whispered, "You could even have me right here. On the floor."

Harry paused, leaning into her touch again, before reluctantly pulling away. He shook his head. "I doubt they even went for Indian. They could come back at any time and-"

"Well, that's the fun of it, isn't it?" Ginny purred, walking her fingers up his thigh more.

Groaning, Harry closed his eyes to her touch. Then, just as suddenly, bolted upright and grabbed her hand in his own. "You're talking nonsense. You were just crying and-"

"But I'm not-"

"Let me finish." He cut her off forcefully. For a split second, she saw the anger flare up and them diminish. She had pushed him.

So, she breathed out. "Okay."

"Okay." Harry paused. He looked at her steadily for a moment, then licked his lips. "You told Brunette and Morgan that I refuse to talk… and okay, fine, yeah I don't… but you're just as bad sometimes-"

"Yeah, well, it's not like-"

Harry hung his head. "Ginny, please. I don't want to fight. All I'm saying is that you said you can't do this again if I don't talk. So… let's talk."

Blowing out air, Ginny ran a hand over her face. "I'm such a bloody prat sometimes."

"Mhm… I'm not going to disagree with that," Harry hummed. He smiled softly.

Rolling her eyes, Ginny playfully hit his shoulder. "Oh, geez, thanks."

He laughed, catching her hand in his and intertwining their fingers. For a moment, they just sat in silence as he gently rubbed circled on her hand with his thumb.

Something in his face shifted, or more so relaxed farther, and Ginny saw a fragile vulnerability within it. Almost a boyish insecurity peaking out of the shadows.

"Harry?"

"You know, I love you, right?" He started.

"I know. And I love you," Ginny assured gently. She brought his hand up and kissed her knuckles softly. "Even when I'm being barmy."

"Right." He nodded stiffly, trying to think of the right words to say. Speaking his own thoughts were always so difficult. "But you know that I would never intentionally hurt you, right?"

Ginny frowned but nodded. "Of course. You'd never hurt anyone."

"Okay, yeah." He responded, fixating his gaze on a spot on the wall behind her.

Waiting, she watched as his thoughts swarmed behind his glasses in the depths of those emerald eyes. Sometimes she swore she could watch him think all day if he let her. And Ginny knew better than to interrupt him until he was ready.

Suddenly, he snapped his gaze back to her. There was an intensity to it.

"Then, why didn't you tell me."

It was Ginny's turn to be confused. "Tell you what?"

"That I hurt you. That all those years ago… when I was drinking…"

Ginny interrupted him by caressing his cheek with her free hand. She didn't know why but the tears sprung back to her eyes, however they were much too far for her to care about her crying.

"I never wanted you to… I mean, that's why I stopped… last night, I'm not sure what happened. Your brothers were hounding me about you being upset. I was angry and frustrated and I don't know what happened… I'll stop again… I won't let it be like last time."

His emerald eyes dimmed, and Ginny really noticed how sunken in they were and how noticeable his cheekbones had become.

"Shh," Ginny whispered through a teary laugh. "It's not about the drinking. It really isn't. You've never hurt me. I promise."

"Promise?" His semblance brighten barely.

"Promise."

"Then, what's wrong?" He searched her face for a clue, squeezing her hand gently.

Ginny took a deep breath. "Do you remember the last time, before last night, that you really, and I mean really, drank?"

"I mean, sort've. The night I decided to give it up?" Harry scrunched his face up in thought, and then nodded. "New Year's Day 1999? I made a right big fool of myself in front of Ron and Bill."

"And me."

Harry smiled. "Yes, and you."

Biting her lip, Ginny refocused on the piece of fuzz on her pants. She wished she knew how to approach what she was thinking. How to get Harry to finally understand what bothered her so badly. Even after all these years, he resembled a ticking bomb sometimes. One wrong move and he'd shut down. While he was much more mature about it, the shut down always happened. Just like on his twenty-second birthday last year and Hermione wouldn't quit asking if he was okay until Ginny lost it for him. Of course, Harry hadn't been okay; he was finally older than his own parents ever would be. A milestone that Harry never even thought of passing. Not that he told her that. It was just something Ginny found painstakingly obvious.

"I'm really sorry about that night by the way. I don't think I ever said that. It's why I quit drinking, because sometimes I get these thoughts and they just kind of sit there and circle… round and round and…"

Ginny's focused snapped back. "You do remember what you said that night."

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I almost always remember… except for last night. I remember, yeah."

"But you refused to talk about it the next day."

"Yeah, but it made you so upset when I told you about it, I thought that it was better if, you know, didn't bring it back up." Harry shrugged.

Ginny half-coughed and half-laughed, "You stupid, selfless man. I love you so, so much."

"But I should've talked to you about it?" Harry asked. There was that boyish look again. Like he was asking her permission. That it was okay for him to finally open up.

And it made Ginny think about the Dursley's again. How did such a hateful home create such a selfless man?

"You told me you wanted to die that night," Ginny stated flatly. He tried to freeze himself to death that night, she reminded herself.

"I did." His voice grew raspy, almost catching in his throat.

She caught his gaze and narrowed her eyes. "Do you still want to?"

Opening his mouth, then shutting it, he just stared back. His eyes slightly wide from surprise and the muscles in his jaw tense.

"Do you?"

He swallowed hard, trying to remain stoic, but his eyes gave him away. He bowed his head, scrunching them tightly, but the tears still came.

Immediately, Ginny place her hands on the sides of his face and rested her forehead against his. "Hey, it's okay. I… I think I know…"

He let his head rest against hers and sniffled. "I really want this baby."

"I do too." Ginny nodded against his head, crying alongside him. This was her circle. Harry, the baby, and her. Somehow, she didn't even care about the Quidditch playbooks lying on the floor near her. Did Quidditch mean anything if she didn't have Harry in the stands watching her?

He took a couple of shaky breaths. "And I really want this family. You, the baby, everything. Whatever that means."

"I do too." Ginny sniffled. "I really do."

Pulling away, Harry gave a teary half-smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She wiped her eyes, as her free hand dropped to his shoulders, down his arms, and back to his hand again. "But I need to know you're okay, too."

"I'm okay. I prom-"

"Don't you dare promise unless it's true," she interrupted. "Tell me the truth."

He slouched back, gazing down at the floor, and sighed. "I'm okay when I think about you. When I think about the baby. And Teddy. That kid actually doesn't give me time to think at all. He's always on the go. And it's so cool when he learns something knew… even the smallest thing… he gets so excited…"

"Teddy is definitely one of a kind."

"Yeah, he is." Harry smiled fondly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. They instead dimmed farther and grew distant. Then, he looked up at her. "But you won't to know the truth?"

Ginny nodded. "Earlier, you asked why I didn't tell you hurt me. Harry, you've never hurt me. I hurt for you. I get frustrated and angry and sad, because I want you to know I'm here for you. You don't have to hide it anymore. I want you to trust me not to let you down. I want to help you like you help me. Because I love you."

Harry bowed his head. "Okay, but you can't tell Ron or Hermione. I just… their amazing friends, the best, but I can't… I don't want them asking me about it."

"Never even crossed my mind. They're much too noisy for my liking," Ginny teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He looked back up of a moment but shook his head. There was a war going on in his head.

"Sometimes… especially when we're at the Burrow during family stuff… and I know I'm considered as much as family as anyone else there… trust me, Ron tells me all the time… it's just that when I'm standing or sitting or just existing there… I feel… it's like I don't belong… in my head… like I don't deserve it or you or anyone… I'm some sort of fraud or something, and one day, everyone is going to wake up and realize I'm not this… this great person… I'm nobody… just some guy..."

"But what if I like that guy… that nobody? None of us love you because of what you've done. We love you because of you." Ginny frowned, tilted her head to the side.

"I know. That's not really the point." Harry waved away Ginny's comment, a bit aggravated. He ran a hand through his hair. "It's more like… I don't know… I just wish I could see things like Teddy does. How everything is so nice and wonderful. But I don't. It's like I can't get excited because I know disappointment will follow, and then I realize that maybe I'm just the disappointment, and everyone will realize that… I'm going to let everyone down… but I can't… but I know it's not real, but sometimes the thought is so convincing and so maybe, just maybe, I deserve to die. I should be dead. Maybe, I should've died… maybe…"

Harry trailed off. His eyes glanced from object to object, unsure where to land, as the muscles in his face tensed and relaxed like he was trying to decide whether he had said too much or not nothing.

Ginny held tighter to his hand. "Harry?"

He shook his head. "I've said too much. I'm sorry… I shouldn't have… it's stupid…"

"Harry?" Ginny asked again, more forceful this time. "Maybe what?"

Choking on his tears, Harry tugged at his hair. "At night, when I'm alone, I have these dreams and I'm back then all over again… I don't know why they keep coming back… but then I start thinking…and it's not fair, you know… why am I still here? What have I done to deserve any of this more than any of them? What if I had died as a baby… would things have been better? So, maybe… maybe it would be better if I was… dead."

He looked up at her sheepishly again, breathing heavily, letting them fall into silence.

Ginny knew she needed to say something, but she also knew that no matter what she said that he wouldn't believe her. Not fully anyway. The war had been won over five years ago, but at what cost? His thoughts had already been askew long before that anyhow. If only she could help him see it.

"It wouldn't be better," she whispered. She reached over and wiped his tears of his cheek. "Because we're a family now. Whether either one of us is ready or not."

Gently, she moved his hand to place it upon her stomach and laid her hand upon his, pressing it firmly in place just beside her belly button.

"Yeah." Harry stared at their hands upon her stomach. Slowly, a watery grin spread out across his face. "A family."

Ginny licked her lips, unsure how to approach the next part. "But I… no, we need something from you…"

That curious, problem solving flashed across his semblance again as he caught her gaze. "What?"

"You need to see someone. A Mind Healer," Ginny demanded bluntly.

Instantly, Harry recoiled, scoffing. "I don't need that. I'm fine. Come off it."

"I'm thinking about seeing one too," Ginny added quickly, trying to get as much in before the conversation fell mute.

"What? Why? You're fine, aren't you?"

Ginny smiled at the immediate concern, then nodded. "Yeah, I think I am, but sometimes I remember things too and like I said, I don't really know who I am, and so, maybe going to one won't hurt… there's a girl on the team that goes and she's doing really good now… so I thought… maybe I should go now. Figure things out, since everything's changing so quickly, so that I'm ready. That I'm doing the best I can for the baby."

"Right. Well, I'll support you no matter what you do," Harry replied, nodding.

"And you? Will you go to?" Ginny asked timidly, nervous for the answer. "We could like help each other help ourselves to feel better?"

Harry groaned. "Gin, I really don't think I'll need it. It'll just be a waste of the Healer's time, and-"

"Just try? Surely the Auror's Department has one on hand?"

"I mean, yeah, but it's for people who have really seen stuff. Things that mess them up. I haven't had that," Harry argued.

"Like facing off with the worst dark wizard of all time multiple times isn't seeing stuff?"

"Okay…"

"You still have nightmares about it. You literally just said so."

"Okay! Fine, damn it. Okay." Harry shook his head and sighed. "I'll try it out, yeah? Just once, but if I don't like it, I get to stop."

Ginny smiled softly, squeezing his hand gently once more. "Yeah, of course. Definitely."

Harry nodded. A hard look crossed his face. "But now I get to ask something of you as well."

"What?"

"We tell your family this Sunday." Harry stated confidently. "That we're having a baby and we're figuring everything out."

"No. Definitely not," Ginny protested.

"Why not?"

"Because they'll get all weird!"

"They're already past that point. They bombarded me and Ron by the way last night!" Harry retorted.

"Oh Merlin, he didn't say anything, did he?"

"No, he'd never. But still, it's getting crazier than if we just tell them and move on."

"But my mum…" Ginny whined, sounding much more like a child than an adult pregnant with a child.

"They're going to find out eventually. It'll either be from us or some gossip column," Harry reasoned.

"Gossip column is fine by me. Then, we can just avoid them." Ginny shrugged. "I'm fine with that."

"Please. Gin. Please." Harry begged, moving in closer to her. "I want to be able to talk about the baby… and you're past twelve weeks, so it's safer now… and I want us to be able to be happy about it. The unexpected, yeah?"

Ginny sighed, nodding. "Fine. Okay. I guess their help wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. But what are we going to tell them about us?"

Harry shrugged. "Whatever you want. The break's on your term."

"Let's not complicate it more than it needs to be," Ginny murmured. She rose a hand and placed it on his shoulder.

"Thank you." His emerald eyes lit up again, as he rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you."

"Those damn fresh-pickled toads," Ginny tutted, before colliding her lips against Harry's.

He laughed into the kiss, but quickly picked up the pace.

It was only a little while later that Brunette and Morgan returned to find Ginny having Harry right there on the floor of their living room.

"Guess we'll have Indian food again." Brunette didn't even bat an eye. She immediately dragged a gawking Morgan back out again.

"What the hell is Weasley's definition of a break."


A/N: Well, it finally happened! The impossible finally was achieved... the two stubborn knuckleheads finally talked! I'm still in shock myself, since this was no where what I intended when I started this chapter. The whole thing took me by surprise, but it came out so easily that I wrote the whole thing in one sitting.

Also, who is excited for them to finally tell the Weasley's about their situation? How do you think it will blow over? Harry definitely has some apologizing to do and Ginny and Harry have a lot more talking to do to figure out what exactly is going on with them.

So, I am with Valmai Morgan on this one... "What the hell is Weasley's definition of a break?"

If anyone finds out, please let me know, because she has taken on a life of her own in my writing. Which I dare say, does make writing it that much more exciting!

Next Update: Hopefully no later than Monday July 11- Tuesday July 12... probably in the middle of the night my time because I don't know how to write during normal hours.

-LastingMemories