April 1996

As the now-familiar feeling rose up inside her, Ginny ducked inside the closest bathroom. Running to the first available stall, she vomited into the toilet. The nausea was instantly relieved.

"Are you okay?" asked the girl next to her, alarmed by the rather disgusting noises coming from the neighboring stall. "Do you need the hospital wing?"

"No, I'm all right," Ginny said brightly, flushing the toilet and straightening her robes. "Ate a funny bit of toast at breakfast this morning. I feel much better now, just needed to get it out of my system."

She was always blunt with things like this and the girl next to her didn't seem to appreciate this, for she fell silent. After a couple of minutes of silent hand-scrubbing, the bathroom door shut with a creak.

Ginny remembered the first time this had happened, nearly a week ago. She hadn't expected it – the nausea was sudden, which now meant that she walked solely in corridors with bathrooms – and had made quite the mess, all over her new robes. Ginny, always practical, had been much more upset about the robes than anything else – she had saved for months to buy them, hardly bought an ice cream all summer. However, her worried friends had hurried her to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pompfrey had prescribed a tonic to soothe her stomach. Unfortunately, as Ginny alone had realized, all the tonics in the world were not going to solve her problem. She was pregnant.

Although it had come as a shock (obviously, she thought to herself, it was a shock…), she was a resourceful, intelligent girl and had already considered her options. If she was right, and she was almost certain she was, she would be able to finish her school term without a problem and go most of the summer without any noticeable … physical changes. And if it happened, well – she was a witch. She could handle that sort of thing. Oh come off it, a voice in her head whispered. Who was she kidding? She was just a teenage girl, just sixteen years old. She couldn't handle this even with help, let alone by herself. But who would she tell? She had few close friends in her year; her mind went directly to Luna, but although the girl was sweet, Ginny doubted Luna would be able to help her. Hermione? No, she'd just tell Ron and, worse, she'd tell him. Ginny didn't think she could take it if he found out. She could just imagine his face – the shock, the disappointment. He wasn't ready to be a father any more than she was ready to be a mother. Ginny slid to the floor of the stall and, for the first time, cried.

Quidditch had always been Ginny's escape, her source of pure joy and adrenaline. She'd been glad to be outside after a slightly nauseous morning, but as she zoomed around the pitch, a depressing gloom pervaded her mind. What would happen next year? She couldn't play on the team in the fall – she'd seen pregnant women before and they didn't look as if they could sit on a broom, let alone fly one. But surely, she thought, I won't be that fat. The thought was revolting.

"Oy, Ginny!" She looked around; Harry was waving to her from the ground, where most of the team had assembled. She shook the thoughts out of her head and turned her broom to join them. Landing with a soft thud on the grass, Ginny shook her red hair out of its helmet. She knew she was distracting Harry, who was attempting to give commentary on the day's practice. She pulled her hair back and watched him attentively, a small smile playing around her face.

She loved Harry, always had. It had been ages ago when she'd first seen him – a nervous, lanky boy without a clue in the world how to enter Platform 9 3/4. Her first year at Hogwarts had been torturous, but in the several that followed she had become friends with first Hermione and then, cautiously following her advice, Harry. Eventually, he'd grown to notice and appreciate her presence. And this year – she had known all along that this would be the year. She remembered her tryout, her first practices with the team, and – most of all – when Harry complimented her flying. His words meant more to her than Dean's kisses. Ah. Dean. It was a bit of a sore spot. She felt bad about the whole thing; after all, he'd been sweet, attentive, and dedicated. But he wasn't Harry.

"Hey!"

Someone was elbowing her.

It was Demelza.

"Shove off," she muttered, flushing, suddenly aware that the whole team was staring at her. "Yes?' she asked brightly, looking around. "Did I miss something?"

"Only the last five minutes of our discussion on flying maneuvers…" Ginny shot a glare at the direction of the team captain, who faltered. He knew what Ginny's temper was like. "Uh … Demelza will catch you up after practice. Good job today guys," he said, turning his attention back to the team. "Team dismissed."

Ginny stalked off the pitch, suddenly unable to control the anger that had suddenly welled up inside her. She was disgusted at her emotions; she had always been able to control the infamous Weasley temper, but lately even the littlest comments had been driving her insane.

"Hey, Ginny, wait up!"

She recognized the voice and quickly raised a hand to her face to wipe away the tears that had inexplicably begun to cloud her vision. "What's the matter?" Harry asked, jogging to the entrance of the locker rooms. "You seemed upset at practice."

She flashed him a smile. "Nothing. Just … girl stuff." That wasn't really a lie, was it? Harry, who knew better than to attempt to understand "girl stuff", nodded. "I didn't mean to worry you. I'm fine."

"Well, uh … okay then." He pulled off his Quidditch robes, changing quickly back into his school uniform. "You're coming to dinner, right?"

Ginny's stomach flipped at the sound of the word "dinner."

"I'm not hungry," she said quickly. "And besides, I … I have a lot of work to do tonight." As if determined to disagree, her stomach let out a loud rumble. Harry's eyebrows furrowed, but the fierce look on Ginny's face told him not to interfere. "I have some food in my trunk, I'll eat something. Don't worry." When he hesitated, she patted his arm. "Go up to dinner, you look starved. I'll see you tonight in the common room, okay?"

Harry shrugged. "Okay, sounds good." He leaned in for a brief kiss before jogging off to dinner. As she heard the door shut behind him, Ginny let out a long sigh and, for the second time that day, felt hot, prickly tears slide down her cheeks.