A/N: Ok – so there might be more chapters after this… maybe two.

Sweet caroline…

Bam bam bam

I've been inclined….

Sorry, listening to music… Anyways. About the crystals. The way their formed, the acid in the washing powder that would not be good for you is cancelled out or something cause my friend ate like fifty (correct me if I'm wrong) of the things when they were made. And she's not dead… yet!

Anyway – I'm really sorry about the late update. What with Christmas and my five year old cousin taking up most of my time, I've only had about two days free time these whole holidays. Hope you guys all had a merry Christmas!

Chapter Eight: Impossible

I remember hitting the floor, the cool tiles feeling like ice on my suddenly hot skin. I cried out in pain again, feeling the small sharp stinging of millions of small glass shards piercing my skin. I let the blackness take over. My first mistake.

Black was still pain – mind shattering pain. Yet – the pain made my mind so much more clearer – and I finally realised what was happening. The pain in my abdomen, the instinctive way my weak arms tried to wrap around my bloated stomach – I was in labour. Finally.

Then I realised what I'd just thought, and I fought frantically against the blackness that tried to consume my consciousness through pain. I fought back to reality and forced my eyelids to open.

Nothing was clear. I saw a mass of red framing pale orbs which I assumed were my family. There was one orb framed by bushy brown hair – Hermione. I tried to scream at them to get them out but I couldn't force my voice to work. I tried to signal to Hermione but I could hardly move my arms from where they were; curled around my stomach. I hoped that was signal enough.

I could hear them talking, but my mind couldn't process the words. I don't know if they knew what was happening or not. Suddenly I felt myself being picked up in a pair of strong arms. I felt a racing heartbeat in the chest of the person carrying me and two strong arms wrapped protectively around me.

Then I was gone. The world around me disappeared into darkness and I floundered trying to find my way out. When I did, it was not the way I had hoped. Instead of staring up from my place in someones arms, I was looking down on the scene that I had just left.

The strong arms I had felt around me were George who had picked me up and was trying to convince a frantic mum that apparition would not be good for me, even if it was the fastest way to St Mungos. Hermione and Ron were trying to find the Floo powder which was sitting in plain sight in the flower pot on the mantel and Dad was being Dad, freaking out. Percy was the only one who managed to keep his head. He pulled George to the fireplace and threw some Floo powder in, then shoving George and me into the flames I heard George yell out "St Mungos hospital!"

The room seemed to fade around me, getting smaller and smaller, until I realised I was just watching through a screen. Taking a step back, I found myself in a round, dark room, with pinky white walls and a large computer screen with a large dashboard covered in buttons, levers, dials and knobs, some flashing, some not. Sitting in the middle of the room was a long glass top table, surrounded by chairs. Hanging from the ceiling above the table was a large crystal chandelier. Elaborate, I thought to myself.

There was a man sitting at the table who I hadn't noticed before. He had messy black hair and round glasses that covered startiling green eyes, a faint lighting scar on his forehead. I took a step back in shock,

"Harry…?" I breathed.

Impossible

The man stood up and confirmed my suspicions.

Impossible.

He took a step around the table, closer to me,

"Ginny?"

"Impossible…" I breathed

He took another step forward and my temper snapped,

"How DARE you!" I screamed, stomping forward, "First of all, you DISAPPEAR for MONTHS and not a single person in the ENTIRE WIZARDING WORLD knew where the HELL you were and you couldn't even tell ME! Your supposed GIRLFRIEND!" I took a breath, Harry looked like he would interrupt but I continued,

"Then when I finally see you again your fighting your arse off being stupidly noble saving people and crap but do I get a SINGLE LOOK? NO!" Ok, now I was being selfish, but hey – he left me.

"And then you go and get yourself killed to supposedly SAVE US! You were DEAD Harry! I don't think you understand how that made ME feel? I thought I was going to die! I could hardly breathe!" I could feel hot tears burning at the back of my eyes, but that didn't stop me.

"And then in all the following commotion you reappear ALIVE! And then before ANY of us knew it, it was OVER. And then you go ahead and die. AGAIN!" Once again – I was being irrational and silly – but do you blame me? What would you do?

Harry was freaked out by my outburst – it didn't take a genius to figure that out. He had raised his hands in a kind of I-surrender-please-don't-kill-me-I'm-sorry sort of gesture, which only angered me more.

"You just had to leave me! Didn't you! You left me to deal with this!" I gestured to what should have been my heavily pregnant body. Harry looked at me, confused,

"What do you mean Gin? I've always been here," Harry said, confused. I rolled my eyes and placed my hands on my waist,

"Like you don't know. YOU LEFT ME!" My voice rose an octave higher than it was supposed to, and Harry looked around worried,

"Ginny, hon, could you keep it down? The kids are asleep." He told me in a hushed tone. This stopped my rant in its tracks.

"Kids?" I asked weakly, not understanding what I was hearing. I looked around the room, to realise I was no longer standing in the weird control room type place, but in the dining room at Grimauld Place.

I looked at Harry, then up towards where I knew the bedrooms to be, then back at Harry. I think he could tell something was wrong which was why his eyes held a look of foreboding, silently telling me 'no'.

And then I sprinted from around the back of the table, running through the dining room door and up the stairs, stopping at the door painted white with a name 'James' painted in a flowery red script. Quietly, I pushed open the door and stopped in my tracks.

A small boy, about five years old, was curled up on a small single bed. He had curly dark hair and a freckily pale face. Underneath what was obviously Harry's hair, he looked the spitting image of my father.

Of me.

I felt a tugging on the bottom of my trousers and looked down to see a small boy, about three years old, and a spitting image of Harry, emerald green eyes staring up at me,

"Mummy," Albus said, "I can't sleep. I think there's a boggart under my bed." His big green eyes filled with worry. I smiled and picked the little boy up in my arms and took him back to bed.

I realised everything now. I had just been reliving my nightmare.

It was ten years since the war had ended. Harry and I had been married for six years. We had three children. James, Albus and Lily and –

Well. You know the rest.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I did have a different idea for how to end it – but this one sounded better to me. I'm just glad its over. Thank you once again for showing me that I can actually write!

Mai Lynn