Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR, not me.

Chapter Eight: Some Might Say

"Well, she looks far too young to be having a child; she looks like she should still be in school," a middle-aged witch dressed in elegant robes whispered to her friend.

"They look younger every day. Makes me feel old," her friend whispered back.

"Of course…red hair…she's probably a Weasley," the first woman said disdainfully as they continued walking down Diagon Alley.

Neville had to restrain Ginny. "She has no right to insult me or my family. Let me go, I'll Bat-Bogey Hex her into oblivion."

"Ginny, I know. Let's just go get your robes," Neville said softly. Ginny finally relented and marched towards Madam Malkin's.

Sighing, Neville followed her. She had been distant since she had kissed him the night before. They hadn't talked about it afterwards, just retreated to their separate beds. Neville still felt like he couldn't rush her into anything, married or not. His face heated at the thought.

Ginny was already in the queue to be fitted by the time he entered the crowded shop. He groaned inwardly; he hated crowds and he hated shopping and those nosy women had put him in a bad mood.

After several eons, Ginny came up to him with an ocean blue robe in her arms. "I need to get some air. Be a dear and pay for this?"

Neville took the robe and headed to the counter. The older witch standing in front of him turned back and smiled at him.

"Congratulations," she said, pointing to the robe.

"Oh…thanks," Neville said, surprised.

The woman continued to look at him, straining her eyes just a bit as though she were searching for something. Neville shifted his left hand to get a better grip on the robe.

"Oh good, you are married. You look so young; I had wondered," the woman said. "Glad to know young people haven't lost all sense of propriety nowadays."

The woman spoke as if this was a great compliment, but Neville hated how Ginny's pregnancy made older people think they had every right to stare and offer their opinions. Wasn't there such a thing as privacy?

When it was his turn, he set the robe on the counter, feeling more annoyed than ever. The saleswitch looked at him curiously.

"You're Neville Longbottom, aren't you? I'm a friend of your grandmother's," she said, speaking as though Neville were a very small child.

Neville suddenly recognized her as one of his gran's most obnoxious acquaintances. She had been one of the worst ones at his birthday party. Sighing, he shoved his hands in his pockets and said nothing.

"Heard all about your little indiscretion, but at least you made an honest woman out of the poor girl after sullying her reputation," the woman continued as she wrapped up the robe. "I suppose this is for Augusta's Halloween party? I'm surprised she's letting you come."

Neville plonked his money on the counter and left the shop, fuming. He wondered if people would say such horrible things about Harry and accuse him of ruining Ginny's life if they knew the truth. Somehow he doubted it...it would probably be the other way around.

"What's got you all hot and bothered?" Ginny asked as Neville approached the bench she was sitting on.

"Nothing," Neville said.

"Was someone rude to you in the shop? I thought I recognized one of the saleswitches as a friend of your gran's."

"Don't worry about it."

Ginny huffed. "You don't need to protect me, you know. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I really would have hexed those other women if you hadn't stopped me."

"It wasn't a big deal. Older people just like to think they know everything," Neville said. He really didn't want to get into this in the middle of Diagon Alley, and he couldn't tell her what was really bothering him, anyway. "We can Floo from your brothers' shop."

"You think I'm some weak little girl, don't you?" Ginny retorted. "You can't treat me like a little sister, I'm your wife!"

"Then you should stop treating me like one of your brothers!" Neville said before he could stop himself. Ginny stared at him, aghast. "I don't see what the problem is. Let's just get out of here," he said quickly, hoping she would ignore his earlier words.

"You're shutting me out, that's the problem! I want to know what's bothering you," Ginny said, hands on her hips. Neville was suddenly reminded of Mrs. Weasley.

"It isn't something you need to know," he said firmly as he started walking towards Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

Ginny hurried up to him and pulled on his sleeve. "You're acting just like Harry used to," she said in an accusatory tone.

"Isn't that what you want?" Neville said. Immediately after he said it, he clamped his hands over his mouth.

Eyes widening, Ginny backed away from him. She shook her head slowly as she continued down the street.

Neville watched, feeling terrible and completely hopeless as she walked away. "Ginny, wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," he called, but it was too late. She had disappeared into her brothers' shop. Hanging his head, Neville headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, stumbling just a bit.

Two steps forward, three steps back. He couldn't believe he had said that to her – his frustration was messing with his mind, making him speak without thinking. He supposed playing the gentleman was getting to him, but he had not intended to hurt her. He knew she didn't want him to be like Harry – what a stupid thing to say. Kicking himself mentally, he ignored the looks of passers-by as he slumped into a booth and ordered a drink. Going home was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Neville and Ginny didn't speak hardly at all the rest of the week. They avoided each other whenever possible around the Burrow, and Neville found himself offering to stay late at work. If the Weasleys noticed anything they didn't say. Neville just didn't know how to fix things, so he was hoping giving Ginny time to cool off would do the trick.

The day of the party finally arrived, and Neville wore his grey robes. He hadn't wanted to spend the money on new dress robes. He was extremely nervous; it would be the first time he faced his gran's fussy friends since his rather sudden marriage, and he knew they would notice if he and Ginny weren't getting along.

"Well, let's get this over with," Ginny said, looking as nervous as he felt. She had put up her hair in some sort of twist thing, and her robe was perfect. Neville's stomach fluttered, but he forced himself to think of something else.

His childhood home was decorated lavishly with candles and pumpkins. Soft music played from the wireless, and giant platters of food were set out on one table. Witches and wizards dressed in their best robes milled about, many holding goblets of mead or small glasses of Firewhiskey. For a moment, Neville could almost pretend he was back at Hogwarts.

"Ooh, trifle, I've been craving that," Ginny said, detaching herself from Neville and making a beeline for the food table. Neville sighed and looked around for his gran.

"Neville, where is Ginevra? I wanted to introduce her to my friends; it's less of a scandal if we do not treat it as something to be ashamed of," his gran stated. She was wearing a rather ugly long violet dress with a fur stole, paired with her usual vulture hat.

Neville sighed; even his gran seemed determined to treat them like misbehaving children. "Ginny's getting some trifle," he said. "And she doesn't need to be insulted again…by you or by your nosy friends…could you please stop calling this a scandal? The Weasleys don't do that."

His gran opened her mouth as though she were going to reprimand him, but then closed it again, pursing her lips. She looked at him thoughtfully, then gave a rare smile.

"Glad to see the pup is finding his bark, Neville," she said before turning back towards her friends.

Neville stood in stunned silence for several moments. He was reminded of the time after fifth year, when she had been proud of his actions at the Ministry. His grandmother praised him so infrequently he never knew quite what to think when it happened.

Ginny approached, looking slightly happier. "This is delicious," she said, holding a plate full of every dessert at the party. She jerked her head towards a far corner of the room. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Neville nodded and found a couple of empty armchairs situated behind a large urn. He said nothing as he stared at his shoes.

"I'm really sorry about what happened the other day, Ginny," he said finally.

"That's why I wanted to talk to you…I overheard what you just said to your gran, and I get it. I know how hard this has been for you and I appreciate you standing up for me, really. I just want you to know that you can talk to me…we're in this together, remember?"

Neville shrugged. "I'm just trying to make things better for you."

"You are, Neville. I've just always hated feeling left out and being told not to do certain things…blame it on six older brothers," Ginny said softly.

"I didn't intend to keep anything from you…you were already so upset about what those other women said about your family, and I didn't want to worry you by telling you how insulting my gran's friend was," Neville explained.

Ginny just nodded. "I had already figured that was what happened, which is why I think I got so mad. I told my mum about it, and she said she used to bite my dad's head off every thirty seconds when she was pregnant. I know that's not an excuse, but…I'm sorry."

"It's really all right. I don't want to fight with you, Ginny."

"I don't want to fight, either." They shared a smile and Neville reached over and took her hand in his. She looked around the room. "Should we mingle a bit?"

"No, let's just sit here, enjoy our food, and let people come to us," Neville said. He rose and got himself a plate of meat pies and several varieties of dessert before returning to the corner to sit with Ginny.

Over the next few hours several people came to offer advice and congratulations. Neville was surprised by this; he had expected more disdainful looks and thinly-veiled insults. However, nearly everyone was being perfectly pleasant. One of these was Griselda Marchbanks, who walked right up to Ginny and smiled.

"I do hope you still plan to sit your N.E.W.T.s. You're a brilliant girl, you know, I remember from your O.W.L.s. Don't let anyone tell you you can't do something just because you have a baby. It's practically the twenty-first century, after all," she said before turning to Neville. "You take care of her, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville nodded and smiled as Madam Marchbanks walked away. "I knew I liked that woman," he said.

Ginny, too, looked noticeably happier. The rest of the evening passed by quickly, and soon it was nearing eleven o'clock. Neville could tell Ginny was getting tired, and surely no one would notice if they left a little early.

Neville returned with their cloaks to find Ginny's hands folded over her distended belly, a faraway look on her face. "What is it?" he asked gently.

"It's kicking. Here." She took his hand and placed it on her abdomen. After a few seconds, he felt the tiniest of movements.

"It feels real," Neville said. Ginny giggled as he placed her cloak over her shoulders. "That sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

"No…I feel the same way," Ginny said in a low voice.

"Are you leaving, then?"

Neville hadn't even heard his gran approach. He nodded, fastening his cloak.

His gran nodded curtly. "Well, it was good to see you. You don't visit enough."

"The party was lovely, Mrs. Longbottom. We had a great time," Ginny said cordially.

Neville was impressed with Ginny's acting ability; this was obviously exactly what his gran wanted to hear. His gran had the hint of a smile on her face as she leaned over to kiss Ginny's cheek. Ginny returned the gesture before leading Neville to the fireplace.

Ginny went up to bed as soon as they got home, but Neville sat down in the kitchen, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He fixed himself a mug of tea, only burning his finger once, and sat down at the kitchen table. After sitting alone for a few minutes, her heard the scrape of a chair net to him and turned to see Ron standing there smiling.

"Mind if I join you?" Neville shook his head, and Ron fetched himself a mug.

"How was the Halloween party?" Ron asked as he dumped half the sugar bowl in his mug.

"I had forgotten how boring those were. Ginny enjoyed the food, at least," Neville said with a slight grin.

"Yeah, she's beginning to rival me at mealtimes," Ron said, laughing. "I heard about your little Muggle dinner adventure the other night."

Neville groaned and covered his face with his hands. "Don't remind me."

"Ginny seemed to find it amusing."

"Yeah, that's because Ginny was in the loo performing probably-illegal spells on wizard money while I sat at the table fielding personal questions from the waitress." Neville tried to look indignant, but his face cracked as Ron practically fell out of his chair laughing. "Okay, it was pretty funny, I guess."

It took Ron a few minutes to calm down. "Seriously, though, Neville," he said finally. "You've really changed – for the better, I mean. Ever since fifth year…"

"Thanks," Neville replied. "I know I'm not really good enough for your sister, but I'm trying."

"Ginny is lucky to have you. Me and my brothers all agree. Not many guys would do what you're doing."

Neville shrugged and sipped his tea. He still felt awful about the little row in Diagon Alley, even if Ginny seemed to be past it. "When do you start Auror training?" he asked, feeling a need to change the subject.

"January ninth. I can't wait; the twins are running me into the ground." Ron had taken a temporary job at the shop after his mother got tired of him hanging around the house. "They keep bugging me to slip something to Ginny…they want to test some products on a pregnant woman."

Neville was horrified, although he knew Ginny was not an easy one to fool.

"Either Mum or Ginny would've killed me," Ron continued, "and Fred and George knew it, which is why they haven't tried anything themselves. Dumb gits."

Neville was forced to agree, even though he knew Ginny probably would have ended up getting the upper hand. She seemed to have a way of making her brothers do whatever she wanted. Grinning, Neville sipped his tea as Ron got up to get himself a biscuit before returning to the table.

"Have you talked to Hermione lately?" Neville asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to see Ron's reaction.

Ron's ears turned pink. "Um, yeah. She seems to like her job. Of course, she can't say much about it," he said, sounding frustrated. "It's kind of funny that both of us ended up working for the Ministry, really. But things are improving – people generally realize how much they owe to Dumbledore and Harry. There are still prats around, of course…people like Percy who crawled so far up Fudge's arse they haven't figured out how to get back." Ron paused, as if realizing exactly what he had said. Neville laughed weakly, more at Ron's stunned face than anything else.

"Well, I'm knackered. Nice talking to you, Neville," Ron said, Banishing his mug to the sink. Neville poured himself another cup of tea and stared out at the star-filled sky.

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! I hope all the Americans had a happy Fourth of July!