A/N: It is here.
--
"You're pregnant."
Merlin, the words just won't leave my head. I groan as my legs hit my bed and I fall backwards onto it. It makes a nice 'pouf!' noise and I stare at the ceiling. It isn't helping, the words still repeat in my head. It's unnatural, it... it doesn't happen to me. These things happen in the trashy books that my dorm mates read, not in real life. Not in my life.
And the worst part is... I don't even know how it happened.
I think back to the hospital wing.
--
I stare at Madam Pomfrey.
"Er. Hahah, no, really, what's wrong with me?"
She gives me a look. I cast a desperate glance at Harry, hoping he'll start laughing and tell me how good they got me. He just blanches and tries to avoid my eyes.
Thanks, Potter, I appreciate it.
"But, how?" I say weakly.
Madam Pomfrey glares slightly at me. "You really don't expect me to tell you how a child is conceived."
Now it's my turn to blanch.
"Ugh, no." Seeing the look on her face I hurry, "I mean... I know how it's, erm. I mean, I read. Oh Merlin! Not like that!" I'm sure my face is darker than the color of my hair. Harry still isn't looking at me, but his face is surprisingly blank. It's kind of creepy.
"Miss Weasley, I can assure you something like this hasn't happened since I've been at Hogwarts." I can't help but think that's a really long time.
She continues, "I'm really at a loss of what to do in this situation. Do you... that is to say. Do you know who the father is?"
"No." I blurt out. Harry turns and stares at me incredulously, and Madam Pomfrey squawks.
Oh, that came out a tad wrong, I suppose.
"I mean, I've never. Er. That is, I haven't. I've never had sex!" I practically scream out.
Well, if my life wasn't already mortifying already, now everyone at Hogwarts probably just heard what my sex life is. Or, lack of. I grimace.
Madam Pomfrey shoots me a look that tells me she doubts that.
"Miss Weasly. I can assure you, this doesn't just happen."
Well, I know that. No need to spell it out. Harry's now settled for what I think is a glare. Actually, it's quite frightening. Why he's glaring at me, I wouldn't know. Unless.
No.
He's not jealous. That doesn't make sense. Push it OUT of your mind, Ginerva Weasley. Do not think of false hope.
And it's really not like he has anything to be jealous of.
"I've never had sex," I say firmly. "If I had, I'm pretty sure I would've remembered. It's not exactly something that slips your mind."
She gave me another look as if to say she severely doubts it.
"Look, I know you don't believe me, but, it's true. Are you sure you're not wrong?"
"Magic doesn't tend to be wrong, Miss Weasley." Another point to Madam Pomfrey for making me feel stupid.
She sighs. "I think the only thing to do at the moment is for you to talk to Professor McGonagall.
I wince. This is one time out of many that I wish Professor Dumbledore was still here. He may be stern, but he seemed more free spirited. I know I won't be expecting any lemon drops on this visit.
"Will you come with me?" For some reason I feel that if I had an adult with me, McGonagall won't kill me.
She gives me another stern look. I have a gut feeling that I'm going to get a lot of those very soon.
"I think this is one visit you can take on your own."
I nod and groan as I stand up and head for the door. I'm going to die. I should at least write a will before I go. Hermione can have my textbooks. Maybe she can start a collection. Fred and George can have my stash of dungbombs under my bed. Ron, he can be told to bugger off.
I'm out of the door, still thinking of a will when Harry, not-so-gently, might I add, runs into my shoulder as he charges by.
"Harry?" I ask tentatively. His shoulders go rigid, and I hear him take a breath before he turns around.
"What?" he snaps, his green eyes flashing. I feel as I've been hit in the stomach.
"Um. I just wanted to say that --"
"You know what Ginny?" he cuts me off, "I really don't want to hear it. Save it for, oh, I don't know? The boys you shagged?"
Ouch. Oh, he's angry. Why the bloody hell is HE angry? He's not the one who's just been told he's having a baby, and one that apparently appeared from thin air!
"Harry Potter out of the low things you could say right now..." I stop, and breathe. "Please, please don't tell Ron. Or any of my brothers, for that matter. Or, anyone. Please."
He barks a short, bitter, laugh and walks down the staircase, leaving me alone.
--
"Um, Professor?" I knock on the door to McGonagall's office.
"Come in," comes a voice from within.
I open the door slowly and walk in, shutting it behind me. She's sitting at her desk, grading papers. I can't bring myself to move my feet. I feel as if a hole will swallow me if I do. I wish a hole would swallow me, actually.
"Yes?" McGonagall raises an eyebrow. "Sit-down, if you will."
I do, with reluctance.
We stare at each other for a good few seconds.
"Biscuit?" She offers. I feel as if I may puke.
"Erugh, no, thank you."
More silence.
"Did you come here just to stare, Miss Weasley?" I blush.
"Well, no, I just came from the Hospital Wing."
"Nothing serious, I hope?" she goes back to grading papers. That's one thing I admire about her. She took up the job as Headmistress and still teaches Transfiguration. I feel my respect for her deepen, and then I remember what I came to tell her.
"Well, I guess it depends."
"Depends," she repeats.
"Ah, yes. You see... I'm kind of. Pregnant." I look at my hands. There's more silence.
"'Kind of pregnant?'" she repeats, faintly. I nod, ginger hair falling over my face.
I glance through the strands at her face. She looks lost and murderous all at once.
"I didn't mean to?" I say meekly.
Now she just looks murderous.
"Didn't mean to," she almost sneers, reminding me of Professor Snape, the bastard. If there's one thing I'm glad of, it's that I'll never have to see his slimy face again.
"Well, yeah," I say, dumbly.
"Miss Weasley," McGonagall says, voice dangerously low, "you realize what name this puts on you, and your House."
I gulp.
"Well, yeah. But it was an accident --"
"An ACCIDENT?" she practically screeches. I flinch and then straighten.
"Of course it was an accident! I mean, I don't even bloody remember HAVING sex, and nobody seems to believe me, and I'm..." Scared.
Oh, Merlin. It hits me. I'm pregnant. I have something growing inside of me. I'm hugely responsible for a life. I... people will think me some sort of whore. My House will shun me. My parents will kill me.
"You mean, you never..." she breaks off, confused, eyebrows furrowed.
"No. Never," I say firmly. "Not that I remember, anyways."
"Miss Weasley, if you're lying, there will be dire consequences."
"I'm not lying. I'm a Gryffindor." As if that makes me any more believable.
"You are. As a Gryffindor, I would hope you would be brave enough to tell the truth," she eyes me.
"I am, I swear it."
She sighs and rests her palms on her desk, standing up.
"Well, I believe this is enough chat for now," I think I stare. Chat? "I'll have to speak to Madam Pomfrey. Do I need to write a note for your next class?"
"I have free hour, Professor, but I think I missed Charms while at the Wing."
She nods. "I'll send a note to Professor Flitwick, then. You're excused."
I'm excused. Well. I open my mouth, thought better of it, closed it, and nodded. Leaving, I can't help but feel like a hippogriff sat on my stomach.
--
So that's it. Pregnant. I turn and groan into my pillow. Classes went by fast, but I missed lunch, saying that I didn't feel well. Which, wasn't a lie, I don't. I was lucky Ron bought it, but Hermione gave me a skeptical look. Harry, I noticed, didn't look at me at all.
I want to stay up here forever. It was almost dinner, however, and I didn't feel like missing that after lunch.
Going to down into the Common Room, I see Harry, Hermione, and Ron sitting in a group near the fireplace, talking in hushed voices. I noticed that as I neared them, they got quiet. Well, that's nice. Harry glowered at me on my way out, and I glared at him in return.
"What's wrong with her?" I heard Ron asking as I stepped through the portrait.
"Haven't a clue," Harry answered.
I scarcely made it out when McGonagall appeared in front of me.
"Miss Weasley? Madam Pomfrey and I would like to speak to you."
--
I stared.
"So you have a spell that could tell who the father is?" I asked slowly. Madam Pomfrey nodded.
"I talked to Madam Pomfrey and we decided it's for the best," McGonagall said.
I nod. The father. I hadn't even thought of that. And seriously, a spell for detecting who the father is? If that's so, why are there so many trashy witch novels?
Pomfrey pulls out her wand and a horrible thought comes.
I swear to Merlin I don't care who the father is... just don't let it be Malfoy.
Eugh.
Pomfrey gasps.
Oh Merlin, it's Malfoy. Ew. I don't want a ferret in me! I'm on the verge of hyperventilating when McGonagall asks,
"What is it, Poppy?"
"Professor... would you go fetch Mister Potter? I think we should speak to him," she says, dazed.
"Harry... Potter?" McGonagall asks, faintly.
"Yes, please."
Oh, great. Go fetch Potter so he can rub in my face that I'm having Malfoy's child. No, I scratch that. He'd kill me before he could rub it in my face.
I bury my head in my hands. Minutes later, I hear footsteps approaching.
"What is it Madam Pom --" I raise my head up and look at him. "Oh," he glares.
I narrow my eyes. If it's a ferret, I'm going to make it eat him.
"Mister Potter, do you know why we called you here?"
He rips his gaze from me and shakes his head. He seems to tense up.
"I expect it has something to do with her, I imagine," he says, with a surprising amount of venom. I try to raise an eyebrow and fail. Damn.
"'Her'? Last time I checked, I had a name," I speak slowly.
"I don't really feel like acknowledging someone I trusted, who I guess goes and sleeps around behind my back?"
"Sleeps around? Behind your back? Harry Potter, you low, disgusting --"
"Now, now." Pomfrey clears her throat, and tugs on her robes nervously. "We don't want two happy parents fighting, do we?"
We can fight as we bloody please, thank you...
Wait.
"What?" we both croak out.
"Mister Potter, I congratulate you on becoming a future parent," McGonagall looks as if she was thinking the opposite of congratulations.
"... Parent?" He croaks and sits on the cot next to mine.
"Yes." McGonagall looks scary, and somehow I don't think she really believes me anymore.
"But I haven't – I mean, we haven't --" He blushes.
The Boy Who Lived is blushing. How sweet. The sarcasm side in me is dripping.
"You had a relationship, did you not?"
Bloody hell. She's actually asking if Potter and I shagged?
It's my turn to blush.
Harry covers his face with his hands.
"Yes, but we never... uggh," his voice is muffled.
'Uggh'? Well that's flattering. Glad to know that even though we had a relationship he apparently thinks it's disgusting to think of me that way. If he was going out with me for charity, I'll break his leg.
"Not 'uggh', obviously," he stops, getting even more red. 'Obviously?' This is sort of amusing, actually.
"I just meant, we never. We never went that far," he says, confused.
"There's no way you could have impregnated Miss Weasley?" McGonagall clarifies, confused.
"Er, no. There's not," he flushes.
At an awkward moment like this, I expect Dumbledore to pop in and offer us a lemon drop.
"I was about to bring that up, Minerva," Pomfrey cuts in. "There seems to be magic tampering."
"Tampering?" McGonagall raises a brow.
"That is to say, I don't think it was conceived naturally." As if that hasn't been obvious this whole time.
"Other than that," she continues, "I'd like to tell Miss Weasley that she has a healthy, two-month old fetus."
Well, isn't that great.
I don't want a bloody baby!
"And Mister Potter," she adds after a thoughtful pause.
Here Harry finally looked at me with something in his eyes other than a glare. It looked like... he was scared.
I'm scared to. I can't raise a kid. I can't even HAVE a kid. I'm... I'm too young. I'm too irresponsible. He's too young. We're both bloody in for it when people find out.
"Why... why would someone do this?" I ask.
McGonagall finally looked at me with pity. "I'm not sure, Miss Weasly," she admitted, "but we'll find out."
"Bloody hell." Harry looked at me. "Ron's going to kill me."
Kill... him? Bloody hell, I repeat in my mind. Ron's going to kill me. And then feed me to Pig. Actually, all my brothers will kill me. Every last one of them, even Percy, the prat. Except he'll probably kill me for bringing shame to his name, not for losing my 'virtue'.
Nnaugh.
"Do we have to tell anyone, Professor?" I look at McGonagall with wide, pitiful eyes, hoping she'll take... pity on me.
"I think it'd be wise to write to your parents, Miss Weasly," she drew her lips into a fine line, "Other than that, I don't see why anyone else would have to know quite yet."
My parents.
That's just as well as setting a death sentence.
"You may go," she dismisses us.
We both head back to the Common Room in complete silence. As we reach the portrait hole, Harry gives me a sad, reassuring smile.
The smile probably meant he was glad he didn't have to write any letters to my parents.
--
This is harder than it seems.
Dear Mum and Dad,
This may come as a shock, it definitely did to me. I'm pregnant, sorry. It's Harry Potter's child and--
No, that wouldn't do.
Mum and Dad,
Guess what, Harry Potter knocked me up!
Love,
Ginny
No, definitely not.
Dear Mum and Dad,
How are you? My first day at Hogwarts has been... eventful. Classes are going well, but I don't have Potions until tomorrow, so I'm crossing my fingers about that. At least I don't have it with Snape anymore!
Speaking of events... I had to go to the Hospital Wing today. Now, don't worry, I'm not dying. Quite the opposite, really. There's no easy way to say this. I'm pregnant. Yes, I know who the father is. No, I won't tell you who he is because you'd tell my brothers and they'd murder him. Speaking of which, can we keep this a secret for now? I'm sure you want me alive in the long run.
Please don't be disappointed. It's really not my fault. Madam Pomfrey told me that there was magical tampering of some sort, her and McGonagall are going to figure it out, I think.
I'm scared.
Love you,
Ginny
Sighing I tied it up and went to ask Harry to borrow Hedwig.
And did so in front of Ron.
"Who are you writing to?" he asked, curious.
"None of your business," I said calmly.
"It's my business if you're so secretive about it."
"If I was being secretive, Ronald, I wouldn't asked for Hedwig in front of you," I snapped. Boys, really.
He huffed and turned to Harry. "You'll really let her borrow Hedwig?" he said as if it was a bad idea.
"It's just Ginny, Ron, I trust her." He turned to me. "Sure, you can borrow her, I'm sure your letter isn't too far off. He smiled at me reassuringly.
Again.
Ugh.
"Nope," I say through gritted teeth, "Though I'm sure the occupants would be glad to hear about you..."
I take pleasure in seeing him pale considerably.
Ron gives us puzzled glances but then goes back to his chess game.
Ginny: 1
Harry Potter: 0.
I feel triumphant.
--
The next morning I groaned realizing I felt sick. Again.
Fortunately I managed to not spew all over the floor, and got dressed rather quickly, going down the the Hall. I spot Harry and sit next to him, grabbing a roll.
"What class do you have first?" I ask.
"Potions," he grimaces.
"Well, at least we have a new professor, we don't have to deal with Snape this year!" I practically crow and then feel horrible at seeing him blanch.
"I mean. Sorry," I mumble.
"S'okay," he grunts, and then brightens. "I wonder who the new professor is, anyways."
"Someone new, thank Merlin," Ron appears, sits, and immediately digs into some bacon. Hermione appears also, sitting next to him and giving him a disgusted look.
"Well, I hope they at least have great experience. This is our N.E.W.T year, we need someone who knows what they're talking about, like Snape did," she says.
Ron stares at Hermione.
"You make him sound as if he's not horrible, greasy, oily --"
"I'm not saying he's not, Ron!" Hermione snaps, "I'm only saying he knew what he was talking about. Even if he was horrid."
Harry grunts once more and stands up. "I'm going to start towards the dungeons, it's far off."
"I'll come with you," Hermione stands and grabs her books, "I want to get a head-start."
Ron gives his food a pitiful glance and stands up as if he was really regretting it.
"Wait, I'm coming," he groans.
And I'm left alone as the trio goes off. I have Herbology first, and as we're working in Greenhouse 3, I better get a move on, also.
--
I walk back to the Common Room after Herbology, feeling considerably dirtier. I realize I must look a mess, and have dirt on my face.
"Finally looking as you should, Weasley?" a voice drawls out, "Dirt poor?"
I stiffen. I know that drawl. I know that voice.
"Malfoy," I say, my voice dark. What the hell is that bastard doing in this school? Getting a closer look at him, I realize that he looks sickly, almost, with dark circles under his eyes. Curious.
He merely sneers and walks by me, looking at me in a way that makes me really happy I wasn't having his ferret – er, child.
I make inside the Portrait Hole to see Harry pacing about, looking murderous.
"HOW COULD THEY?" He shouts.
Hermione and Ron look angry, also, but scared, as they watched Harry.
"HOW COULD THEY LET THAT BASTARD, THAT COMPLETE UTTER SCUM BACK IN THIS SCHOOL?"
"Harry?" I approach him timidly. "Did Potions not go well?"
He turns and looks at me with a snarl. I almost drop my books.
"Not go well? Not go well? Do you want to know what DID NOT GO WELL? THEY LET SNAPE, SNAPE BACK INTO THIS SCHOOL. THAT TRAITORIOUS, OILY --"
Hermione cuts him off.
"Harry, McGonagall had her reasons, she even said --"
"DO I CARE? HE KILLED DUMBLEDORE, IF YOU DON'T REMEMBER, HERMIONE!"
"But Professor McGonagall said --"
"I DON'T CARE." He fled up the stairs into the boy's dormitory, and slammed the door.
"Um. So. Snape, back?" I say weakly.
Ron nodded, looking glum. "McGonagall trusts him. He killed Dumbledore, and she trusts him. Said it was part of some plot between him and Dumbledore. Probably made the whole damn thing up, the git."
"Ron, they had him take truth serum," Hermione said, biting her lip.
"Yeah, well potions fail, sometimes, don't they?"
"I don't think this did," she muttered.
"So you're saying it's okay he's back?" he growled.
"Of course not. I just... think that we should accept her word. Just, let's all be careful. We'll talk to Harry later, okay?" she said, soothingly.
Ron visibly relaxed, and I almost laughed out loud at how they were acting so much like a couple.
But, Snape.
He killed Dumbledore. How... why would McGonagall do this?
Well, I'll just have to be careful. I subconsciously put an arm around my abdomen.
Right.
--
A/N:
That was long, urgh. Does it make up for 4 months of not updating?
No?
Well it wasn't all my fault, I suppose. I didn't have Microsoft Works anymore,but I finally got a program that let me write. I'll update soon, again, I hope. Also, I was wondering if someone would like to be a beta. After finally realizing I haven't been putting E's in there rightful places (ugh), I need one.
I appreciate all the reviews, and I hope that the cause of Ginny's pregnancy is cleared up now. If not, I'll... I don't know. Try to clear it up some more, ahaha.
Oh, and now that Deathly Hallows came out. Ignore it, please? This will definitely be different. Nobody will ever be named Albus Severus, for starters.
Happy reading!
