The sixth day ended with Harry and Ginny snuggling in the Gryffindor common room. Or, rather, they were trying to snuggle; Harry's large stomach was something of an impediment. Ron and Hermione were holding back laughter, and several of the Gryffindor boys were taking notes, should they ever have to do something similar. Colin Creevey was off somewhere developing his latest photos of pregnant!Harry, and the common room was largely quiet, save for the crackle of the fire, the quiet hum of conversation, the scrape of quills on parchment, and the soft bickering of Harry and Ginny trying to maneuver around each other.

"This isn't working," complained Ginny, collapsing into a nearby chair. She glared at Harry's swollen belly. "That thing had better come soon, or-"

"Hang on, what's this?" Harry leaned forward and picked up a Prophet that someone had left on the table. He was on the cover, with nothing but his glasses. The headline read "POTTER/MALFOY:ONE TRUE PAIRING?". His equipment disappeared just below the bottom of the frame, and he was stroking his stomach sensually, with his eyes closed, and his mouth hanging open in what could only be described as an-"

Harry suddenly realized that Ginny was glaring at him now, instead of his stomach.

"Profiting off of our misfortune, are we, Harry?" she said coldly.

Harry was dimly aware of all the conversation in the room stopping. "I didn't-"

"Didn't what? Harry? Didn't notice half the students in the Great Hall this morning with their noses buried in the Prophet? Didn't think about how your pregnancy was going to affect others? Affect us? Affect you? How are you going to take care of a child?"

Vaguely, Harry recalled a louder than usual buzz at breakfast, and Hermione and Ron trying to get him to look at the paper. Vaguely, because he had been neck deep in a large bowl of fruit salad and tartar sauce at the time. "I have money-"

"I'm not talking about money!" Now the redhead had gotten up, and was leaning over Harry, her arms pinning his to the chair's arms. Funny, thought Harry, how such a petite redhead could have him cowering in fear. "I'm talking about experience! Your own childhood wasn't exactly nurturing, as I recall! You don't know the slightest thing about taking care of kids!"

Something snapped.

"It's all well and good for you, isn't it?" yelled Harry. "Just standing there, questioning me! D'you think I haven't thought about this? D'you think I haven't been lying awake at night, wondering what on Earth I'm going to do with this baby? I'm only sixteen! Of course I bloody have!" Somehow, he had stood up, and was now face to face with the equally-mad Ginny. "But I know where to get help, I know who to ask, AND IT'S CERTAINLY NOT YOU!"

There were a few seconds where Harry and Ginny just looked into the other's eyes, panting.

Then they kissed.

After a few seconds, they broke off, looked at their shoes, and mumbled apologies.

Ron cleared his throat.

Harry and Ginny looked around in surprise; they had almost completely forgotten that there were other people in the room. Ginny yawned theatrically.

"Well, I'm going to call it a night," she said. She gathered up her books and headed up to the girls' rooms, and Harry collapsed back into the armchair.

"Well, that was dramatic," commented Hermione. "But then again, the whole week has been full of nothing but scenes. Remember when you told Dumbledore you were pregnant?"

"Headmaster," Harry had said, "I'm pregnant."

"I shall instruct the house-elves to lay in an extra supply of olives."

"And McGonagall?"

"Professor McGonagall? I'm pregnant."

"I knew nothing good was going to come of Draco's little experiment."

"And Snape?"

"I had you pegged for a single father, Potter, but not this like this."

"And Hagrid?"

"I recommend fruit salad and tartar sauce."

"Why?" Harry had asked.

And Hagrid's face had gone carefully blank.

"And Trelawney?"

"Madame Trelawney-"

"You're pregnant."

"How did you know?"

"I see all, with my Inner Eye."

"McGonagall told you, didn't she?"

And Trelawney's face had gone carefully blank.

"And the Qudditch team?"

"I'm pregnant. I won't be able to attend tomorrow's game."

And the team had gone quiet, except for someone at the back muttering about there being a precedent. If Wood had still been there, he doubtless would've replied "And?"

"And Madam Pince?"

"Madam Pince, I'm looking for a book on male pregnancy."

"Ah, yes, I've heard of your problem. Perhaps you should try those stories those giggling third-year girls always seem to be writing."

"I want realism."

"Have you talked to Hagrid?"

"Incidentally, mate," Ron chimed in, "How are you stretching your clothes to fit?"

"He's not," said Hermione. "I taught him a spell that would stretch his clothes, no matter how much he grew."

There was an awkward silence.

"Harry, what are you going to do with the kid?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know." Harry stared up at the ceiling. "I don't even know how to take care of a child, and I don't have a job to bring in income."

"Didn't your parents leave you, say, a bank vault full of money?"

"That's not the point." Harry had closed his eyes, and his face was scrunched up with concentration. "Where will I go? What will I do?"

Ron and Hermione waited for him to quote some more lines from the movie. After a while, they realized he had fallen asleep, and carried him to his bed.