Ironhidensh prompt- wanting to see Hinny reconnecting in their middle-age after failing to get back together after the war. (Middle-age is a wide range, so I aimed for low-middle).

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Congratulations

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She tapped her quill against the table, staring down at the blank card in front of her. It was summer again, a season she was coming to hate due to the slew of reminders that always came in from her friends about how her life hadn't turned out the way she wanted it to. This time it was a baby shower she was heading to and the card that she needed to affix to the present she had nicely wrapped up needed something written in it, something that didn't show that she was jealous that her sluttiest friend had now settled down, gotten married and was popping out a baby in about a month.

'You're only thirty-five,' Ginny reminded herself. 'Witches can have children until they are well into their fifties, you've got plenty of time.'

It was her mantra at this point.

It had been a steady eight years in a row that she had two weddings and two baby showers to attend between the months of April to September.

Why was everyone having babies between April and September?

They did know that sex was something that could occur at all times of the year, right?

Unconsciously, her hand went to her abdomen.

Four years ago, there had been a reason that she might have had a baby shower 'off-season', sometime around November. But she'd lost it three months in, thankfully before she'd made any announcements.

Her boyfriend at the time had been surprisingly devastated that she'd miscarried; he hadn't been too thrilled initially to find out that she'd missed taking a potion one time. He then stuck around just long enough for them to grieve together for a bit about the loss, then they broke up.

Ginny put her hand back on the table and tried to shake the memory out of her head.

What to write, what to write.

'Congratulations on opting not to swallow one night,' she considered. Kaley had once proclaimed herself the best head-giver out there, she might find that funny. Though, she might read the card out loud and Ginny would find herself on the receiving end of some hateful glares from the older ladies that might be present.

You would think she'd have this part down by now, but this was the first time she'd accidentally grabbed a card from the store that didn't have some cheesy inscription on the inside about what a delight babies are. All the cards looked the same and generally had something about 'joy' and 'fulfillment' written, but Ginny couldn't fake that she wasn't green with envy about Slutty Kaley's situation.

'Sleep now or forever hold your peace, at least until baby moves out,' she finally wrote down. It was cutesy and funny enough.

Who really cares what's written on the inside of these stupid greeting cards anyhow?

She couldn't help frowning as she affixed the card to the present.

When she went to get ready she kept repeating to herself that she loved her life, she loved her flat, she loved her independence, she loved her job, she loved visiting with her family and having her nieces and nephews climbing all over her, she even loved that she was free to have the few guilt-free one-night stands that she'd had while travelling. But having someone to come home to, someone to share her bed with consistently, someone to pick up the slack when she was too dead tired to take care of any of the housework, she wanted that too.

But, she couldn't reflect on that right now.

Dress on, make-up on, hair done, affix smile to face, no, not that smile, that one makes her look insane, relax the face a bit, there you go.

Oh my god! Is that a grey hair?

Oh, nope, just a trick of the light. Whew.

She turned away from the mirror and headed toward the kitchen, picked up the gift and Apparated directly to the front lawn of Kaley's new shared home she had with her husband before she could get any farther in her head with resentment. Unfortunately, seeing the simply beautiful yellow cottage home with flower pots hanging just below every window was not helping suppress the resentment.

"Ginny?"

She jumped with surprise at hearing her name from behind her before turning around.

Damn him for still getting her heart going like this.

"Harry? What are you doing here?"

Why is it that men look so much more effortlessly dashing as they age and women need to have a whole beauty regimen to stop their bodies from mummifying? It isn't fair!

Harry is a full year older than her, he should be needing to stand in front of the mirror for half an hour to make sure his make-up appeared natural enough to make it seem he woke up like that. But no, he probably did wake up like that. He was wearing a button up dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up a few times, and it looked like it was perfectly tailored to his physique.

"Please tell me that you didn't buy that shirt and simply have it fit you perfectly right away," she burst out before he could explain his presence.

"What?"

"That shirt," she accused and pointed at it with her free hand. "It's practically painted onto you and looks perfect."

"Why does that sound like a bad thing?"

His confusion was understandable, he never would understand the intricacies of the female mind.

"It's a bad thing because it isn't fair that you get to roll out of bed and put on the article of clothing closest to you and look like that," she gestured to the whole of him, "meanwhile this," she gestured to herself, "took all morning."

Damn his crooked smile. She wasn't trying to be funny!

"Do you put in all this effort before every Weasley dinner?"

"No, why would I? It's just family."

He moved closer and stepped around, in passing he said, "then you don't need to put in the effort."

She'd tried to grow accustomed to the way he affected her over the years, the awe and embarrassment had transitioned into some kind of longing for friendship, then just straight up longing, which was fulfilled for a little while, much too short of a 'little while', then, after the Battle, they were just two people that used to snog in darkened corners who didn't anymore, but she still longed for him, it just grew fainter as the years passed and they each tried to pursue different relationships. Every now and then that longing would hit her all over again with full force and she'd be stuck wondering 'what if'.

That longing hit her right now and was battling the jealousy for Kaley she'd been feeling only a minute ago for the top tier emotion.

"Damn him," she muttered under her breath and started forward with quick steps to catch up with him. "Why is it that you're here?" she asked again. "I'm not used to seeing single men attending Baby Showers."

"I'm friends with Graham, he invited me, or asked me to help out with doing the running back and forth for drinks and food and such in between standing around in their kitchen and enjoying a few drinks ourselves."

"Ah, so you get to be my waiter today. Very nice."

Harry raised his hand to knock, but Ginny just pushed the door open, she'd been here before and there was supposed to be a party on the other side of it, no one would acknowledge someone knocking on the door.

"Ginny! Harry!" Graham, Kaley's husband greeted them. He was a good guy, as tall as her in her heels with sandy blond hair that was slowly receding and bright blue eyes. It was his cheeks that made him look adorable, wide cheeks that looked so pinchable when he smiled, plus he had dimples.

"Graham," Ginny smiled and gave him a hug.

"Did you two come together?"

"No, we ran into each other on the walkway," Harry told him and handed over the small gift he'd brought when Graham reached out to shake his hand.

Ginny stifled a laugh, Harry was always terrible with introductions or understanding when someone wanted personal contact.

Graham didn't seem offended, he pointed Ginny in the direction that the rest of the ladies were in and showed Harry through to the kitchen. She couldn't resist checking out Harry's arse as he walked away and wistfully wondering if she'd ever have the opportunity to touch it again.

As predicted, the Baby Shower was exactly the same as all the other Baby Shower's she'd attended, except that this time it was Harry that kept filling up her wine glass.

He filled it up a lot actually.

By the time she was ready to leave, balancing on her heels was not an easy task. And because she was so drunk she knew that she needed to get out of there as soon as she politely could.

Being surrounded by all those women that were talking about what their birthing experiences had been like was making Ginny start to feel vindictive.

"Alright?" Harry asked, catching her arm as she wobbled on the uneven stones of the walkway.

"You got me drunk," she accused.

"I was trying to."

"I'm not good at remembering to keep myself in check when I'm drunk, Harry. That was a bad idea."

"Why do you need to keep yourself in check? I find it entertaining when you get drunk, you become all truthful and witty."

"Because, Mister Potter, being 'truthful and witty' when I'm attending yet another Baby Shower now that I'm a woman of a certain age who's never had one herself is decidedly not a good idea."

"Come again?"

She wobbled again and he held her arm tighter and guided her to the properly flat sidewalk where she turned to him. "Jealousy is not a good color on me. I don't become truthful and 'witty', I become truthful and 'snarky'."

"You're jealous of them?"

"Of course I'm jealous of them!" She pointed aggressively back at the cottage. "She was my slutty friend! And she's married with a baby on the way. I'm not getting any younger, and you know me, Harry, do you really think I'm happy that I'm in my mid-thirties and going home to nothing?"

"But you,"

"But I what?" she cut him off. "I have a fulfilling job and a lovely flat and all my friends and independence, blah, blah, blah. I can only say that so many times, and people can only say that to me so many times before it starts sounding like it's a consolation prize."

"You've come close to having this at least," he pointed out. The bastard was much too calm for someone that was supposed to have been in the kitchen with his mate for the last three hours drinking scotch or whatever they were doing.

Ginny snorted derisively. "Is that supposed to make it better? That I put time and energy into two relationships that got close to this point and didn't work out?" She stepped closer to him and put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. "That was a combined seven years of my life I spent with the wrong guys trying to make something work, and I should have known better. I'm literally surrounded by people that don't have to try so hard to make things work. The only time I was in a relationship that felt effortless was with you, and that only lasted sixty-two days!"

"You counted the-"

"Then there was an entire war that ripped that apart and nothing was ever the same again. Now I get to try and find someone interested in dating me. Do you have any idea the kinds of men my age that are available? Divorced men, or men that are single and ready to settle down, so they'll pretend to be whatever kind of guy I need in order to turn me into a house-wife. It fucking sucks. I hate dating, I missed my window."

"Ginny."

She felt his hands come to her waist as though he was going to pull her in for a hug, but she didn't need his comfort. So, she pushed him away.

"I'm going home. I'm feeling drunk and lousy and I don't want to be around anyone right now."

She backed a few steps up from him and turned, Apparating back to her flat and kicking off her shoes, chucking them hard in a corner before stomping off to the bathroom to wash her face aggressively.

A bath was what she needed. Some scented bubble bath and a reason to simply lay still and remind herself that living on her own meant silence, and that was a good thing.

It was a solid ten minutes she'd been sitting in the hot water when someone started banging on the door to the flat.

Screaming out for them to bugger off was an option, but instead she got out of the water and wrapped a towel around herself. The banging was too insistent for them to have listened to her if she had yelled out. And she had a feeling it was Harry she was about to open the door to.

And it was; still in his perfect button up shirt with his perfectly messy hair and his perfect green eyes that he no longer needed to hide behind glasses due to a new potion that corrected his eye-sight.

"I was just being miserable, Harry. I'm not in need of rescue," she sighed. Him and his stupid savior complex. He likely decided since he was the one to get her drunk he was responsible for her until she was sober again.

"You counted the days," he said, pushing passed her into the flat and closing the door, and taking a moment to acknowledge in how she was standing in front of him in only a towel.

That's why he was here? Because she remembered how long they'd dated for?

"It's not like I had trouble counting that high, it wasn't a very large number," she rolled her eyes.

"You regret it then?" he demanded.

"That we dated?" she asked in astonishment. They'd never talked about it; they broke up at Dumbledore's funeral and simply brushed it under a rug from then on, save for the time she trapped him in her room and snogged him like a woman possessed until her brother rudely interrupted. "No, I never regretted-"

"That we didn't get back together immediately after the war," he corrected insistently.

She squinted at him. He seemed a bit different now than he had been when she'd left him on the sidewalk a few minutes ago. Was he actually drunk now? There was a smell of malt on his breath.

"Did you go home for a drink and then head right over here in that short of time?"

"Yes. Now answer my question."

"Well, yes, of course I wanted to get together again after the war. I had been under the impression that our relationship had been on pause, not that it had just ended full stop. But then-"

"Yeah, but then," he said miserably. Apparently it was his turn to keep cutting her off in conversation. He turned and headed to her kitchen. "Do you have whiskey?"

"Do you really need any more?" she asked as he found the right cabinet.

"No, probably not." Saying that didn't stop him from pouring some out into a glass and taking a sip. "I was miserable after the war. You were too, I remember seeing it all over your face. There was so much going on, so many stupid things I needed to be involved in. I barely had time enough for five minutes alone in the loo, let alone trying to rekindle our relationship, or whatever. And I didn't want to have a minute to myself then. It had been terrible, the whole thing. All I kept doing when I was alone was going over all the mistakes I'd made that could have ended everything so much sooner. Then you went back for your last year of school, I fell into a year of depression, then when I came out of it you had a boyfriend. Then you had another boyfriend after that, and another."

"Excuse me?! Do you have any idea how hard I would have jumped you if you'd shown even slightly that you were still interested? How dare you say we never got back together because I had moved on. You had no trouble showing you fancied me when I was dating Dean. For fuck's sake, Harry, had you thrown even a snide remark at one of the guys I'd dated after you I would have ditched them."

"You never showed any further interest in me either!" he accused.

"Yes, I did!" she screeched at him. "I tried to get you alone with me for TWO YEARS after the war, but noooo, the ever-busy Harry Potter didn't have time for his old girlfriend. So what choice was I left with? Either I pine for you forever or try to move on with my life. Well, congratulations to me, apparently I've managed to somehow bungle up both of those things."

He set his glass down. "You're pining for me? Right now?" he asked seriously.

Every hair on her body was tingling with how he asked that question. She stood still, frozen and staring at him. He'd really just asked that, and the way he'd asked it sounded a hell of a lot like hope. His eyes drifted down her body and she could swear that his eyes had grown darker by the time they latched on hers again.

Apparently answering the door in nothing but a towel had been the right call.

()()()

Harry grimaced as he took a step back from the stove the next morning and carefully flipped over the bacon while out of splatter distance. He'd been too preoccupied with thoughts of what he'd been doing with Ginny last night, and this morning, to be paying close enough attention to how their breakfast was coming along. He took a step back after turning off the hob and rested against the counter behind him, looking over to the spot on the floor where she'd been standing when he kissed her. The towel she'd been wearing was only a foot away from there, hanging half off the shoe stand she had. It was a pleasing memory recalling how she'd let out a squeak of surprise that quickly morphed into a moan when his hands moved down to grasp a handful of her bum.

He too had been less than enthusiastic about celebrating someone else's milestone moment in their life when his had appeared to have been used up in his teens, and none of them had been pleasant memories.

Growing up he'd never pictured himself having a family of his own, only of being adopted by another one, just like he was with the Weasley's.

Then his friends all started getting married, they and his coworkers all started having babies, now work events all included a family friendly portion and weekly trips out to the bar at the end of a trying day were few and far between, and when they did happen it was with the new recruits. He'd officially become the 'old bachelor' on pub nights.

His relationships since the battle didn't last long and none of them had left the impression that his and Ginny's had done.

She'd been right, he hadn't done anything to reignite the relationship after the battle, first he'd been too busy, then he'd been too depressed, then too obsessed with retracing everything he'd done since first discovering he was a wizard and trying to figure out how many lives might have been saved if he'd done something, anything, differently.

Then he'd been too late, she'd showed up to a Weasley dinner with some guy on her arm.

It was seeing her with another man that had shocked him into doing something different with his life. He'd been trapped in the past while everyone else had moved on with their lives, including her.

It was nearly twenty years later now, but he'd finally done something about it.

Several times, he smiled to himself.

He'd fantasized about her continuously over the past two decades but the last sixteen hours had been nothing compared to what he'd been thinking; they started off with snogging three feet from where he stood, then he had her naked with her legs wrapped around him as he pressed her up against the wall two feet from there. The way her quick fingers made work of his clothes was so hot, and she'd been equally as eager as he was for round one, essentially guiding him by the cock to her bed.

He'd always pictured his first time with her being slow and thorough, instead it had been hot and heavy, and quick, for both of them. He'd admitted to her as soon as he'd caught his breath that he'd been wanting to do that with her for ages. It was no small joy to hear that the feelings were mutual. Everything else was just a blur of sex; he'd had his head between her legs three times, and when he wasn't going down on her, her hand or her mouth had been constantly on his cock, unless it was inside her again.

Twenty years of repressed sexual frustration for each other had turned last night into an Olympic level marathon sex session.

Recalling the sounds she'd made when he had her legs up over his shoulders, bending her in half while he kept thrusting into her, it was making him painfully hard again.

"Hmm, I smell bacon," Ginny smiled sleepily as she came into the kitchen.

She was swearing a long shirt, one that didn't show off her lovely form underneath it, and he felt the need to change that immediately. He put down the flipper he was holding and tugged her over to him and affixed his lips to her neck. "You're wearing too much." He felt her sigh and relax against him as he rubbed his hands up and down her thighs, getting closer to the middle and higher with each pass.

"Trying to get me hungry for something other than food? That's a difficult task, Potter," she teased.

He was up for the challenge. He grasped an arse cheek with one hand while he let the other sweep across her sex then rub gently a few times before dipping two fingers inside her. He felt her breath catch. "Still wet I see."

"You are going to make me incredibly sore," she breathed out between pants.

"I'll take that to mean you aren't already." His brain was so driven by his hormones that he wasn't registering how out of character this was, how two days ago he couldn't have imagined simply tugging off Ginny's nightshirt and turning her around so she could grab onto to the counter while he took her from behind. But that's what he was doing.

He tossed her shirt on the floor and went back to fingering her with one hand while he grasped her breast with the other. "I can't believe we've both been missing out on this for so long," he muttered while she pulled down his pants and let his erection spring free.

"I can't believe how many times you've made me cum." She grasped his erection and started pumping her hand up and down it slowly.

"I'll need some assistance with that this time."

"What?"

He turned them around so she had her back pressed against his front and was facing the counter. His cock wedged in between her thighs and he could feel the heat and moisture from her sex against the top of it. "Touch yourself," he demanded.

Ginny did as he asked, bending over slightly and bracing herself with one hand against the counter while the other went to her clit, her fingers gently tracing along the head of his cock as she did.

Harry hummed with pleasure at the feeling. "Good girl."

A moment later he pushed the head of his cock inside her again, marveling once more at how tight, wet and warm it felt yet again. "Fuck, I love how tall you are."

He didn't expect her to thrust backwards and impale herself on him in response. It felt incredible though. His hands grasped her hips and he set a fast and hard pace, encouraged by her moans and gasps of pleasure, the way his name would escape her lips every few thrusts too was making it hard to attempt and control himself. It sounded like his was the name she had been stopping herself from crying out with every other lover she'd had.

The thought of her fantasizing about him in order to achieve an orgasm from any other experience she'd had, while with another person or when she was alone in her bed, was egging him on.

It didn't take long for him to feel that familiar flutter of her next orgasm approaching.

"Harry," she warned. "Ah, fuck, yes, harder!"

Her cumming around his cock was a religious experience, but he still needed more. "Keep touching yourself," he ordered. He wanted her this tight for as long as possible. Merlin, she was wet.

"Harry!" she whimpered.

"Yes, keep saying my name," he growled, his lust addled brain taking over his mouth.

She obeyed, with each thrust he made she repeated his name, growing louder as his finish approached until finally it was his turn to shout out her name.

Ten minutes later they were comfortably seated on her sofa, each with a plate of breakfast and a cup of tea.

"Alright then," Ginny started after she chewed off a piece of her bacon. "Aside from the last several hours being a lot of fun and us burning through several calories, what exactly is it you think we're doing here?"

"What do you mean?" He thought it was obvious what his intentions were when he came over yesterday. They'd missed out on the chance to pick up where they left off when they were teenagers, now they were going to try and do that, weren't they?

"Harry, come on," she huffed a laugh, "we aren't kids anymore; sex is not a new thing for either of us, sex with each other is, but that doesn't necessarily mean we're in a relationship now. I'm sure you've had one-off's before. And I don't want to hear about them," she added in a hurry. "Nor am I interested in being considered one of them, but I don't know what you're looking for here either."

"Are you finding it impossible that I might actually want to try and mean as much to you now as I think I did when we were in school and dating?" She'd certainly meant a lot to him then, it had hurt his heart more than he'd ever been able to admit when he broke things off with her, even with how sure he was that it had been for a good reason.

He'd put a lot of thought into that after all was said and done too in the several months that he'd been obsessed with trying to find out what small changes could have changed everything. The question of whether them breaking up would have changed anything at all had a long list of things that could have potentially happened.

Ginny picked up her tea and held it to her lips, using it like a shield to guard her emotions. "I've already told you I spent a full two years coming to terms with how you didn't seem to want to get back together after the Battle, and I'm not eighteen anymore. You saw how I reacted to that baby shower yesterday. I'm ready for something serious. I've been ready for something serious for a long time. I want a partner and a family and for a long time there I was picturing that partner being you. So, if that freaks you out then we can just chalk this all up to us having one fun night of working out some frustrations and getting rid of a few regrets."

He did know this; she'd been very clear about that in her drunken rant in front of Graham and Kaley's house yesterday. He wasn't getting any younger either, and, though she wasn't his mother, Molly still reminded him that any hypothetical kids he had she expected them to call her 'grandma'.

It was throwing him off balance slightly to hear Ginny essentially giving him an ultimatum though; either he commits to being in a relationship with her now or they can go right back to being friends again.

No more repeats of last night and this morning.

"You don't even want to try and let things progress however they may?" he asked.

It was a lot to ask after they'd only spent one night together.

She rolled her eyes at him and set her cup down, scoffing as she did so. "I'm not saying you need to go straight from 'just looking for a shag' to 'I love you, let's get married', I just wanted to tell you where I'm at when it comes to looking for a relationship. I get that this is a huge question, it's just, when I think about where we might be now if we had gotten together after the Battle, I think there's a good chance that we might have wound up married with a few kids already. That didn't happen, and that's fine, but I have been close to that two other times and everything fell apart. I don't want to get invested in something with you only to find out that you're dead set against the whole idea."

"I'm not," he admitted. "It's just that I feel like you're telling me I've got a minute to decide if I want to propose to you right now and I need a bit longer than that to make the decision."

"I'm not-"

"I know you aren't, but it kind of sounds like that," he said calmly.

"I should have went about this a different way," she muttered and started picking at her breakfast again.

He watched her side profile while she cleared her plate. There were times that he wondered if they would have wound up married if he hadn't been so… so strange… after. When he'd managed to break out of the spell he'd seemed to be under and could breath again he wished that she would have just been stubborn and bullheaded with him like he knew she could be, that way she would have just been there with him and let him know that despite everything, she still wanted him when he was eighteen and broken, just as she had when he was sixteen and nearly whole.

She's right, they probably would have gotten married and had kids.

And that didn't sound bad at all.

No doubt if they'd wound up getting as carried away in the bedroom when he still had the stamina of a teenager then he would have proposed to her out of lust before she'd finished Hogwarts.

They were adults now and had each figured out how to be comfortable living on their own.

"How close did you come before?" he asked suddenly.

"What?"

"You said you'd gotten close to doing the whole 'getting married and having kids' thing before. How close did you get?"

She blushed, it wasn't an embarrassed blush though, she looked ashamed, actually, he caught a glistening starting up in her eye; telling him things had ended pretty badly.

"When I was about twenty-eight. I don't know if you remember him, but I'd been living with my boyfriend for a year and it was a discussion. Then something happened and we just couldn't bounce back from it."

"He cheated on you?" he guessed.

"No."

"You cheated on him?" It seemed less likely, but he couldn't resist asking.

"No." She wouldn't meet his eye, but she chuckled a little as she said it, so he believed her.

"I think I remember him. And I think you're better off without him." He didn't remember the boyfriend she was talking about, he'd intentionally been trying not to listen to anything anyone had to say about the men Ginny had dated since they'd broken up. But, if she was this obviously upset about how things hadn't worked out, then he felt it was a safe thing to say.

"That's what I tell myself."

He nodded. "Is it what you tell yourself about us too?"

She met his eyes then and stared for a moment. Her eyes were so big and expressive, the way she looked at him gave him chills, in a good way.

"No," she admitted finally.

The twenty years they'd missed, be damned, he couldn't help grinning like a sappy teenager hearing that. He tugged on her hand to get her to move over and sit in his lap. She wound up straddling him as they kissed.

"Let's try dating," he asked. "I can't promise you everything you want right now, but I know I don't want to miss out on being with you again for another day."

()()()

Two years later

"Are you sure no one can tell?" she asked for the third time.

The question was annoying him, she could see that, but she was too paranoid to stop asking.

"Ginny," Harry sighed.

"Don't give me that. I need to ask a million times because if my mum catches a whiff of pregnancy on me then I'll really start panicking and you know that won't be good for the baby."

After dating for four months Harry had announced to her that he thought it was time to live together. She'd been overjoyed that he'd been the one to say something about it, because though she'd laid it out for him after that first night together, she didn't want to turn into his 'crazy girlfriend that was always pressuring him'. They'd managed to keep their relationship to themselves for a few months following him moving in, then her mum had stopped by unannounced and saw his things all over her flat, then the jig was up.

Him proposing to her on her thirty seventh birthday she'd seen coming, but it had still shocked her to tears when he did it. They wound up celebrating the way any newly engaged couple would, and it was hours later when she was cuddled up against him in bed that she finally told him about her miscarriage. He'd been really sweet about it and assured her that if the same thing did happen for them, then they would have to keep right on trying until she told him it was time they stopped.

She didn't expect to get pregnant so fast after the wedding through, now she couldn't help being worried that someone might find out that she was pregnant and how she would be subjected to endless suggestions or questions if she lost the baby.

"They won't know," Harry assured her. "I'll make sure that you have your own non-alcoholic beer in your cup, you can take a sip of wine at lunch, the medi-wizard said that would be safe, and we'll both tell everyone that we were up late last night listening to the Quidditch game; we heard the highlights this morning, we both know it went on until three a.m. and what happened, so you can say you're too tired to play Quidditch or run around with the kids."

"Right," she nodded. "Good plan."

His forced smile he gave her after every time they had this conversation was losing the humor after each time she saw it.

She was driving him absolutely mad.

Oh well, such was marriage.

She looked down at her wedding ring and smiled. Only a few more months before she had not only a husband, but a baby too; just as she wanted.

So long as everything went alright.

The smile dropped off her face again when she thought that.

"Ginny," he warned, having watched her face that whole time.

She looked up at him and his gorgeous eyes again. "Everything will be fine, yes, yes. And I want the baby shower to be after he or she is born."

This was new news to him. "What? Not before? You're that sure you're going to lose it?"

"What?! No! Well, I mean, I am worried, but no. I just want everyone to congratulate us once there is a new Potter in the world for them to congratulate us for. And I want it to be when I can drink again."

"I can get on board with that," he nodded.

She checked her dress one more time and how it was hanging. "Are you sure-"

"Ask me one more time and we'll go right back home where I'll stick you in a protective bubble until you give birth," he growled. "No one will notice. And you and the baby are going to be fine."

Ginny grinned at him, he was so handsome when he was all riled up.

And he was right, of course, baby James Potter II was born at a healthy 9lb 3oz two weeks before his due date with his daddies eyes and his mummy's hair.

Now she just needed to convince Harry to try for a second one before she turned forty.

()()()