Takes place a few years after Life and Love After Death. (You don’t have to had read that fic to read this one though.) I really don’t know how I feel about the finished product here, but this plot bunny has been hopping around in the back of my head for months. Please, please, please leave a review with your brutally honest opinions.

The refreshing breeze that rustled all of the festively red and orange leaves littering the streets of Hogsmeade did nothing to help Harry’s palms, which were now sweating profusely despite the cool autumn weather. He didn’t dare hold Ginny’s hand with his suspiciously clammy one, instead choosing to keep his arm around her waist as they leisurely walked past the shops and restaurants of the small village. Both Harry and Ginny kept unusually quiet and so they each were lost in their own thoughts as the crunching of leaves under their feet and the chatter of surrounding shoppers filled the silence.

But at the moment, Harry’s thoughts were rather scary—the result of panic and anxiety that had been building up since he picked Ginny up at the Burrow to go to dinner—and only served to encourage the butterflies in his stomach to multiply tenfold.

“Did you like your pork chops?” he asked Ginny suddenly, “You didn’t seem to eat much.”

Turning her gaze from the shop windows to meet his eyes, she smiled reassuringly at him. “Yeah, they were really tasty; it’s just that I went out with Hermione today and we had a big lunch,” Ginny told him as she pushed some of her fiery red hair behind her ear.

“How’s she doing? Hasn’t killed Ron yet, I hope,” Harry said, referring to Hermione’s latest batch of pregnancy hormones. Her constant changing from weepy and helpless to irritable and demanding had everyone walking on eggshells around her.

“She was surprisingly happy, actually,” Ginny replied, “Although she did tell our waitress that she was an incompetent nitwit for forgetting to give us ketchup.”

Harry laughed and pulled Ginny in closer to him as another gust of wind blew at them. Off in the distance, he could see the Womping Willow thrashing, scaring off every bird in sight. Casually, he steered his and Ginny’s feet off the sidewalk, heading in the direction of the massive tree.

“Where are we going?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder at the strangers, who seemed to take no notice of them as they left to trek up the hill upon which sat the ancient stone castle that was Hogwarts.

“I thought we might take a little detour,” Harry told her, grinning.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Ginny said unsurely, “It’ll be dark out pretty soon.”

She looked toward the horizon which glowed a mixture of oranges and pinks as the sun sank slowly in the sky.

“No worries, love,” he assured her, “We won’t be long.”

The two of them walked along the perimeter of the school grounds—Ginny lazily drumming her fingers against the high wrought iron fence that surrounded it as they went—until they reached their destination.

The fading green grass gave way to the cool sands and pebbles of the lakeshore. The Giant Squid seemed to be sleeping; the water’s surface remained still and black as night. Behind them the sun was nearly setting, but looking ahead they could see the pale moon was already peeking out amidst the spindly tops of the evergreens.

“Here we are,” Harry sighed.

Ginny smiled nostalgically and said, “Remember when we used to swim here?”

He swallowed and nodded, recalling all of the sunny afternoons of his sixth year, spent with her at the lake. “Things seemed so simple then.”

She let out a bark of laughter, replying, “Like hell they did. Things were as complicated then as they ever were. Don’t take this the wrong way Harry, but my life stopped being simple as soon as I met you.”

Harry laughed along with her, feeling the butterflies in his stomach settle down the slightest bit.

“You don’t regret that, do you?” he teased playfully, although it was something that worried him from time to time.

Shaking her head, Ginny said, “Not in the least.” She took his rough hands in her much smaller ones and reached up to kiss him softly, sweetly. “You know I love you.”

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, as he nodded again. “Yeah, I do. And I love you too—more than you could ever imagine. I…” he replied, his voice shaking.

Ginny lifted one of her hands to his face, looking at him with concern. “Are you okay?”

Harry didn’t respond, but instead closed his eyes for a moment before getting down on one knee. Hurriedly, he fumbled in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

Ginny’s eyes widened, and whether it was the moonlight or her shock, Harry noticed her become very pale. She squeezed his hand to steady herself as her pulse raced, pounding in her eardrums.

“Marry me.”

He snapped open the box to reveal a sparkling diamond set in a band of gold.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Ginny said, clutching her stomach. Before he could stop her, she ran off.

“Well that’s not what you want to hear,” Harry mumbled to himself, not quite realizing what’d happened. He ran his hand over his face groaning with frustration before getting back to his feet and chasing after her.

“Ginny! Wait!” he called out into the darkness.

He stopped for a second to catch his breath and heard Ginny retching a few feet away. Turning, he saw her bent over, her arm around a gnarled old tree for support. He walked up to her slowly, twigs snapping under his feet, and gently put his hand on the small of her back.

“Bloody hell,” Ginny said hoarsely, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, only to shut it again, unable to find the words to say. Pinching the bridge of his nose to keep an imminent headache at bay, he finally said,

“This probably isn’t the time to ask, but was that a ‘no’?”

Rolling her eyes, Ginny sighed. She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, “I am so sorry about that.”

Harry, helplessly confused, put his arm around her to steady her, as she seemed about ready to have her legs give out from under her. He’d never seen her as fragile as she seemed then. Kissing the top of her head, he replied, “Let’s get you home, to bed.”

“I didn’t…It wasn’t you proposing that made me—“ Ginny began weakly, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

“It was probably something you ate. Never going back to that restaurant again, that’s for sure,” Harry said, walking her out of the forest.

“It wasn’t that either,” Ginny insisted, wringing her hands anxiously.

“Don’t get yourself worked up over this, Gin,” Harry said soothingly, “Just get some sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

He embraced her in a tight hug before Apparating them back to the Burrow’s front step. Through the knit curtains that draped the windows, they could see a light burning. Harry reached out to open the door, but Ginny grabbed his wrist.

“Listen to me Harry,” she said earnestly, “I’m—I…” She shook her head suddenly and muttered, “Never mind.”

“No, tell me. What is it, Gin?”

Looking down at her shoes, she replied so quietly that Harry barely heard the words, “I’m pregnant.”

Harry immediately took a step back from her—as if she would explode at any moment—and looked her up and down. “You’re what!?” he shouted.

“Keep it down!” Ginny hissed, glancing nervously at the window, “They’ll hear you.”

“You’re going to have a baby?” Harry hissed back incredulously.

“Actually we’re going to have a baby,” Ginny reminded him, folding her arms across her chest.

He frantically ran his hand through his messy black hair and began to pace back and forth. “I can’t believe it,” he said blankly, more to himself than to her. “Are you sure? When did you find out?”

Ginny nodded and fixed her gaze over his shoulder and mumbled, “A few days after Charlie’s birthday party I went to a Healer.”

“Gin, that was three weeks ago!” Harry shouted again.

“Shh!” she hushed him, giving him a good smack on his arm. “I know I shouldn’t have waited until now to—“

“Here I am asking you to be my wife, but I can’t even trust you to tell me something as important as this!” he shouted, throwing his hands up. “Didn’t you think I had a right to know?”

Her hazel eyes burned with tears, but Ginny remained with her arms folded, jaw set, unwilling to cry. “I was going to tell you,” she said in a dangerous tone.

“When? When were you going to tell me?” Harry pressed further.

“I…”

The front door swung open, startling the two of them and causing them to be blinded for a few seconds as their eyes became accustomed to the flood of light. Ron stood in the doorway, staring curiously at them.

“What the hell are you doing standing out in the dark yelling at each other?” he asked them bluntly as he stepped aside to let them in.

“Sod off Ron,” Ginny spat, marching past him.

“Oi! Don’t you snap at me just cause Harry’s gone and got your knickers in a bunch,” he protested.

“Thanks mate,” Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“What’d you do this time?” Ron asked, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.

“Ginny, get back here,” Harry called, ignoring Ron and following her into the sitting room. “We’re not done talking about this.”

Ginny heaved a sigh and sat down on the old lumpy couch by Hermione, who set her book aside and rested her hands on her ever growing belly.

“Just go home, Harry,” Ginny growled, putting her head in her hands, “I’m too damn tired to deal with this right now.”

“No, I’m not leaving,” he replied stubbornly. “Not until we’ve worked this out.”

“There’s nothing to ‘work out’!” Ginny shouted, “This isn’t a bloody Quidditch play!”

“You are being completely unreasonable,” Harry snapped, beginning to pace again.

“At least I have an excuse. What’s yours?” she shot back.

“Will you two stop arguing?” Ron interrupted. “Blimey, and I thought Mione and I were bad…”

“Watch it Ronald,” Hermione warned indignantly. ”What’s going on?” she then asked with concern, looking back and forth between Harry and Ginny.

A stony silence settled over the room as the couple locked eyes, neither of them speaking up. Normally, Ginny would’ve put up more of a fight before succumbing to such defeat, but her eyelids seemed to be becoming heavier by the minute and her mind was too foggy with fatigue to come up with a sufficient lie. Finally, she nodded, almost imperceptibly, which Harry took as a signal.

“Ginny is pregnant,” he announced, still not quite able to believe it.

A split second later, Ron was clutching his sides, eyes streaming down his cheeks, as he burst into peals of raucous laughter. Hermione, Ginny, and Harry all stared at him in bewilderment, at a loss for what to do or say. His entire face grew red as he gasped for air between laughs, stomping his foot down on the old creaking floorboards.

“Mind telling me what’s so damn funny?” Ginny asked bitterly, her Weasley ears burning pink with anger.

Wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes, Ron at last caught his breath and replied, “You and Harry—I think you’re a little confused.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, furrowing his brow.

“Well you think that Ginny’s pregnant but that’s impossible,” Ron said matter-of-factly. “You see in order to get pregnant you have to have sex. And in order to have sex you have to be married.” Seeming satisfied with his undeniable logic, Ron gave them all a wide grin before folding his arms.

“Thank you Professor Ron, for that life lesson,” Ginny replied, her voice laced with sarcasm, “But you are the one who’s confused.”

Ron stared blankly at his sister for a few moments, taking in what she was saying. Then he promptly turned on his heel and lunged at Harry, knocking him off his feet. The two men fell to the floor with a loud thud and Ron began to hurl his fists at Harry.

“Ronald!” Hermione shrieked “Get off him this instant!”

Seeing that her screams had no effect on her enraged husband, Hermione pulled out her wand and shot a spell at him. Ron’s immobilized body rolled off of Harry who lay flat on the ground, not having thrown a single punch. The left lens of his glasses was cracked down the middle—though fortunately no glass had gotten in his eyes—and blood was steadily dripping from his nose onto his jumper.

Hermione heaved herself off the couch and waddled as quickly as she could over to him. Muttering a few charms, she repaired his glasses and his nose and managed to siphon the blood off of his clothes and face.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled gratefully as he got to his feet again.

With one last wave of her wand, Hermione allowed Ron regained control of his limbs. Slapping him smartly on the back of his head, she snapped, “What on Earth were you thinking?”

“You’re supposed to be my best mate!” he yelled at Harry, “I trusted you with her!”

“Calm down Ron,” Hermione said softly, putting her hands on his chest.

He pushed past her, stepping toward Harry, but not laying his hands on him. “You said you would never hurt her,” he said lowly.

“And I haven’t,” Harry replied defiantly.

“Haven’t you though? What do you think my parents are going to say when they find out? The Harpies are going to force her to resign, so she’s out of a job. She’s barely twenty years old Harry—she’s not ready to have a baby.”

“You think I’ve ruined her life?” Harry asked, the question sounding more like a challenge.

“I didn’t say that,” Ron replied carefully.

“Yeah well you might as well have,” he shot back.

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Ginny cut him off, curtly saying, “The both of you are impossible, you know that? Now I’m off to bed; do me a favor and don’t be here when I wake up.”

Hermione made to follow her, but paused at the bottom of the stairs. Looking at the men with disgust, she shook her head and told them, “You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”

Harry fell back onto the couch, his temples throbbing with a painful headache. The butterflies from earlier that evening had migrated out of his stomach, leaving behind a sick feeling of guilt and worry that was only amplified when he realized that he was completely alone.