Chapter 11: Meanwhile, August 11th, 1999

(A/N: If you were feeling like going back and reading from the beginning, you're in luck! I just went back and cleaned up the first and second chapters (fixed the timeline, clarified some things, changed some awkward phrasing), so it's the perfect time to go back and review every single chapter not that I'm asking for that but I wouldn't turn it down. Also, sorry this story got so heavy for a second there. Hopefully this will fix that up a little bit! Again, thanks for all of your continued support!)

Ginny woke up (as she did most mornings) to the radio station on her alarm clock playing the top muggle pop songs. Today's was a sultry number that seemed to be about being a genie in a bottle, and seemed to involve an awful lot of rubbing, which went against everything Ginny had ever learned about genies that lived in bottles. Professor Lupin had been adamant that they preferred to be 'lightly petted' rather than rubbed, as the rubbing caused an earthquake-like effect within the bottle itself.

Rubbing aside, Ginny was in a relatively good mood, until she had a sudden and violent urge to throw up. She hurled herself out of bed and into the adjacent bathroom, reaching the porcelain throne just in time. She had just finished when she heard soft footsteps in the carpet behind her.

"Babe? Are you ok? This is the third time you've vomited this week." Harry asked, wiping sleep from his eyes blearily.

Ginny looked up at him forlornly. This was the topic she had been avoiding all week. Well, more specifically, since his birthday. Ginny had found out three days before Harry's birthday that she was pregnant. Despite the fact that she was only eighteen, that she and Harry weren't married, and that neither of them had any steady source of income, she had been overjoyed at first. Those three days she had floated on a cloud, knowing that she was coming back from Quidditch camp with the perfect present for Harry: a son. (She guessed; Weasleys had a very good track record with boys.) Of course, anxiety and nerves had crept in every now and then, but were easily fought back with the thought of her boyfriend's happiness. While she was excited to start a family, Harry was practically foaming at the mouth. They'd already discussed names (Harry wanted Severus desperately for the first boy, but Ginny was vehemently against having to surgically remove underwear from her oldest son's rear end daily due to wedgies. They had compromised after a two-day argument that their second son's middle name would be Severus if their first son's name would be James. James Sirius. Good lord. Ginny didn't even want to think about the countless battles they'd had over girl's names.), the number of children they wanted (Harry wanted as many as they could handle and then a few more; Ginny was more content with three, maybe four), and their parenting methods (tough, but fair). However, all of her happiness had gone down the drain with that little letter from their long-gone headmaster. There was no place for her new life within the new adventure. In fact, for the first couple days, she had almost forgotten her happy secret; only daring to think of it once they were in bed, and Harry's breathing had slowed to a soft rumble. Only then did she creep out of bed to examine her mysteriously flat stomach in the mirror. She allowed herself to be happy in those moments, if only for even a minute, before she remembered that she hadn't told Harry yet. What worried her even most was the fact that Dumbledore had mentioned that Harry might not survive this quest for his parents, because while fearing for her love's life in and of itself was not new, but Ginny couldn't imagine raising Harry's child without him. The boy who lived, never getting to have a real family. It was inconceivable, and she was so frightened that at times she just wanted it to all go away. His parents, the letter… even, lately, the baby. And before she started showing, she could pretend it had. But as time went on, she couldn't pretend any longer. As she and Harry dove further and further into the project at hand, and her bouts of morning sickness increased, she knew the day of reckoning was coming. And on this hot and muggy August morning, bare legs stuck to the tiled bathroom floor with sweat, quickly expanding stomach peeking through her tank top and shorts, she looked her boyfriend in the eyes and knew this was no longer her burden to carry alone.

"Harry…Harry, I'm…I am," she sighed heavily, "pregnant," she stammered out, a single tear splashing a path down her ruddy cheek.

Harry quickly sobered up, blinking profusely. "With…with a baby?"

"Yes," Ginny choked out, wiping the stray moisture violently away from her face.

"Ginny," whispered Harry, "Ginny, are you serious? Are you sure?"

"Yes!" she wailed, waving her hands helplessly, "Harry, I am very sure! I'm four months pregnant and I don't know what to do!"

"Ginny, this is amazing!" Harry got down on the floor with her. "We're having a baby!" He hugged, holding on almost too tightly. "Oh, my god, we're going to parents! This is the best day of my life!"

"But Harry, we're not married…and, and your parents…I mean, it's awful timing!" Confused, Ginny didn't notice the tears falling once more.

He finally drew away from her. "Ginny. This…this is more than I could have ever dreamed of. I have the chance to have a family, a blood-and-guts family that's mine, and mine alone. And not horrible people, not the Dursleys, people I really want to spend time with, who really want to spend time with me. And what's even better, I'll be doing it with you! I…" he looked away. "I know it's going to be hard. As in, really, really, really hard. But I am so willing to do whatever I can to make sure that everything goes right. Trust me on this."

Ginny softened. "Harry, you know there's no one I trust more than you. But…we can't raise a baby. We're just kids." She muttered.

"Gin!" He exclaimed, "I'm Harry freaking Potter! I can do anything! And one day…" He paused, took a deep breath, and said, "Wait one sec," as he got up and ran into their bedroom. Ginny shifted nervously on the floor.

"Babe, where're you going?"

"This'll take just one second, I know it's here – oh, thank god. Coming!" He scrambled back to the floor, now with a small black velvet box in his hand.

Her eyes widened. "Harry Potter, is that-?"

"Shh." He cut her off. "Just wait, like, one second. I was gonna do this later tonight, actually, cause, you know – Happy birthday."

She was surprised. She had forgotten her own birthday.

He kept going. "I was going to do this right." He swallowed. "I asked your parents already, and Hermione helped me pick this out, and we can still go to the nice restaurant, just for a nice birthday dinner, I made reservations and everything, but I think it's better that I do this part now." Harry propped himself up on one knee. Ginny gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.

"Ginny Weasley. You… mean more to me than any other person on this earth. You are everything that's good in the world. You're funny, and wickedly smart, incredibly beautiful, and above all, you are my very best friend. I can't think of another person I'd want to spend every single second of every day with the way I want to spend each of them with you. And when I say I know we'll get through this together, it's because I know that if there's anybody strong enough, smart enough, and brave enough to get through this mess, it's you. Gin, I love you so, so much. Probably more than you even know. Will you…marry me?"

He fumbled with the box for a moment, finally snapping it open to reveal a delicate silver band with strands of gold curled around the sides, both wrapped around a small, shining, square cut diamond. On either side of the diamond were two smaller red rubies to finish off the exquisite engagement ring.

"Harry…" she stammered, throat closing, tears threatening to fall. "Harry, do you even have to ask?"

He grinned wider than she had even seen, and gripped her in a hug even tighter than before.

"Yes, Harry, a million times yes!" she shouted as the tears fell quickly onto his pajama shirt.

Later that night, at dinner, Harry broached a subject he had been thinking about all day.

"Ginny…have you told anyone besides me that you're pregnant?"

"No, I wanted you to be the first to know. Why?"

"I just…do you get the feeling that your parents are kind of going to brutally murder me?"

"Yeah…I was kind of thinking we could wait to tell them until…like, probably after I actually have the baby."

He nodded. "That seems like both a very good and very bad plan."

"I agree, but I'd rather not have you brutally murdered. I think I'd like to keep you around a little while," she smiled, taking his hand into hers.

"Oh, please," he smirked at her. "You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

(A/N: I love love love reviews!)