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Author: Imogen Story: Alpha and Omega Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Completed Reviews: 4 Words: 99,172
Chapter 15: Evening News "This day, whate'er the Fates decree, Shall still be kept with joy by me." ~ Jonathan Swift: "Stella's Birthday" The weeks seemed to fly past with unusual swiftness, and before Harry realised where he was, the anticipation was building within the castle for the Christmas holidays. Everyone appeared to be going home this year, almost without exception, seizing the opportunity to be with loved ones, fearful that this might be their last meeting. Somewhat unusually, Ginny had wanted to go back to The Burrow until New Year, but after a lot of persuasion she had finally listened to Ron and Harry and agreed to keep to their original plan. If nothing else, they all knew that it was far safer remaining within the confines of Hogwarts, especially given the recent Death Eater activity, and Harry was absolutely determined that she shouldn't be at risk. As it transpired, only the four of them were remaining in Gryffindor Tower for Christmas, so Harry had nervously sought out Professor McGonagall, and to his total astonishment was actually granted permission to move into Ginny's dormitory for the ten day holiday period. He had to admit, he was really looking forward to spending some time alone with her. This had been notoriously difficult to do of late, due to the halls thronging with overly excitable students, and various Christmas festivities. The latest craze for exploding holly erupted from every darkened corner, and as Harry discovered, even the most innocent of broom cupboards seemed to conceal unexpected surprises. "Finished," Ron yelled triumphantly, interrupting Harry's thoughts as he measured his length of parchment. "Half an inch longer than it should be as well," he pointed out proudly to Hermione. "Hmm," she said, looking at it rather cynically. "The fact that your handwriting is twice as big at the end as it was at the beginning doesn't count for anything?" "Pure co-incidence," he laughed. "Come on, Hermione, it's the last essay of the term. We're finished tomorrow, and we're going to have some fun. There's absolutely no way you're spending all holiday in that library." "As if I would," she smiled. "But I do have some research I want to do." "Don't spoil it," he groaned. "I thought you'd listened to me there, for once. Things were perfect, just for a split second: no library and no Yule Ball this year either." "We can't have a party with You Know Who going round and killing all those people," Hermione said rather crossly, rolling up her own parchment for Professor Binns. "Show some sensitivity, Ron." "Just be grateful I'm not trampling on your toes this year," he grinned. "Whatever the reason. You were hobbling round for three whole days after the dance last year." "How did you cope when you had to teach him to dance in the first place, Gin?" Harry asked curiously. "My baby sister has toes of steel," Ron chuckled. "Mind you, she'd need them. If you think I'm bad, you want to see Percy on the dance floor." Harry grinned, and twisted round so he could see Ginny's expression; his heart melted as he caught sight of her. She was curled up tightly in the large squashy armchair, her head snuggled into a cushion, and was entirely oblivious to the world around her as she slept. She looked rather pale in the candlelight, and Harry could make out the traces of dark shadows beneath her eyes belying a distinct lack of sleep. He frowned slightly, but her soft regular breathing reassured him, as did the sight of the blue book clutched tightly in her hand. "Has she fallen asleep again?" Ron demanded, glancing over to see what was wrong. "Stimulating reading material," Harry chuckled, nodding at her copy of Moody's new book, "Constant Vigilance." "You can't be surprised," Hermione looked up from her own book. "Oh come on, Harry! You've been keeping her up late most nights, and she's been getting up at the crack of dawn to finish her studying." She lowered her voice. "You know she's trying to get ahead with some of the work for next year." "I suppose so," Harry responded guiltily, glancing at the sleeping figure beside him. "I didn't know about the early morning studying, though." "I think I'd better get her up to bed," Hermione said practically, putting her own book down on the table. "Harry, can you wake her up for me please?" Harry did as he was bid, leaning over and shaking Ginny lightly. She muttered incoherently in her sleep and swatted at him irritably with her hand, before his gentle persistence paid off. She blinked foggily, and sat upright, pushing her vibrantly red hair back out of her eyes. "Ginny?" he whispered anxiously. "Wh-what?" she yawned, rubbing at her face. "You fell asleep again," he explained, smiling at her bewildered expression. "Are you sure you're OK?" "I'm fine," she snapped out of her reverie with a jerk. She frowned heavily at him. "Don't fuss, Harry." "I'm just concerned," he said softly. "I didn't know you'd been overdoing it with your work. There's no need for you to be pushing yourself so hard; nothing's happening yet, anyway." "I said I'm fine," her tones rose emotionally. "I've not been overdoing it. I haven't." Harry placed his hand calmingly on hers and she shook it off. "I haven't," she yelled, sounding almost hysterical. "Ginny," he protested, acutely aware of various faces turning to stare in their direction. "It's all right." "It's not all right," she cried. "You just don't understand, do you? I've got to get through all this stuff. I have to." "Get some sleep," he advised, glancing across at Hermione for some help. "You might feel better for it in the morning." "Harry," she yelled. "You could at least pretend to be supportive. Have you any idea how difficult all this is?" "Shush!" he said desperately, terrified she'd say something she shouldn't, yet his concern only served to inflame her. The molten chocolate of her eyes erupted into white-hot fury. "Don't you dare 'shush' me, Harry Potter," she spat. "You don't know how easy you've got it most of the time. Imagine a life where the worst you've got to worry about is Quidditch practise being cut short." "That's not fair and you know it," he snapped back. Hurt green eyes met furious brown ones and the word 'Voldemort' hovered unspoken between them. Tears flooded quickly to the surface, and a shuddering sob fought its way from Ginny's lips. She blindly pushed past him, and fled up the dormitory stairs, leaving a stunned silence in her wake. "That went well," Ron commented blithely, as the common room lapsed back into its babble of conversation. "A bit more practise and you'll be yelling back at her like a genuine Weasley." "Shut up," Harry growled, feeling worse than ever. He snatched up Ginny's book and glared at the pages, only realising after a few minutes that Hermione was smiling at him because he was holding it upside-down. ***** The holidays had begun in earnest, the hallways and classrooms echoing eerily as the handful of remaining students rattled around. Peeves was in his element, singing all the rude versions of Christmas carols he knew, and then making a few more up, cackling loudly at the top of his voice. While shepherds eyed their frocks by night The maidens sang a song Give me a man who's brave in might And at least ten in-… Harry didn't wait to hear the rest. Blushing furiously he charged through the tapestry-concealed doorway, and up to the common room, to spend some sorely needed time with his wife. A couple of hours later, the Gryffindor common room was utterly deserted apart from the two of them, lying flat on their backs on the hearthrug in front of the crackling log fire. Harry glanced mischievously over at Ginny, seeing her face and hair reflected in the warm glow of the blaze, shadow and light dancing enticingly across her very being. Her eyes were filled with laughter, and focused intently on the objects overhead. Harry's grin widened, and he released the spell, causing a small shower of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans to cascade down on her face, amidst shrieks of laughter. "I got one!" she screamed, revealing a red one between her teeth. She bit down slightly tentatively, and giggled. "Strawberry." Rolling over, and kissing him, she grinned wickedly. "Let's see how you get on," she giggled, wriggling back down next to him again. "Wingardium Leviosa!" At her command, somewhere in the region of twenty multi-coloured beans rose into the air and hovered above his head, swaying impishly this way and that as she instructed them, plunging suddenly towards him before rising tantalisingly again when he opened his mouth to catch them. Suddenly a deluge of beans hurtled towards him, pelting and bouncing off his face as he fought off the laughter and snatched at them. His success was short-lived. He choked briefly and swallowed, grimacing as he did so. "Stewed cabbage." He burst out laughing. Ginny collapsed into his arms, completely helpless with the giggles that shook her frame. Harry smoothed her whirlwind of hair back from her face, laughing as much at her reaction as he was at the game itself. "It's wonderful when it's just the two of us like this, isn't it?" he chuckled. Her laughter faded, and her dark eyes seemed to soften somehow as she gazed up into his face, cupping his cheek gently in her hand. "The three of us, you mean?" she whispered. "Three?" Harry echoed, glancing around the room to see if Ron or Hermione had somehow intruded. Then, slowly, Ginny's meaning sank in and his jaw dropped. He looked at her in disbelief. "You… you…?" he stammered, feeling a tingle shiver through his bones. He ran a shaking hand through his already untidy hair, and swallowed awkwardly. "You're…" he tried again, but his voice failed him. "Pregnant?" The world held its breath. She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. He stretched his hand to the flatness of her stomach, feeling as if he were suddenly filled with helium - almost dizzy and distinctly separate from the real world. "Baby?" he croaked at last, beginning to formulate questions very unsteadily. "In here? Really?" "No, I thought I'd keep him in my trunk upstairs," she teased, almost sounding like her normal self, but he could feel her trembling. "It's a weird sensation, knowing that it's actually happening, isn't it?" "Our baby?" he repeated, trying desperately to grasp the reality of the situation. "Yes," she whispered, looking anxiously at him. "You're not mad, are you?" "Ginny!" he cried, gathering her into his arms and hugging her tightly. "How could I ever be mad about something like this? It's amazing. Incredible. It's… How on earth did it happen? When did you find out?" "Well, I think you know how it happened. Or maybe we should ask McGonagall to explain it to you?" she giggled softly, kissing him. Her dark brown eyes searched his, suddenly serious once more. "Are you sure you don't mind? It's all happened so fast, I'm not entirely sure what I think about it. I only found out yesterday when I went to see Madam Pomfrey, and she said we're about seven weeks into this. Seven weeks." She bit her lip. "Looks like I was wrong when I said it would take months. I think this little one must have made an appearance on one of our first times together. No question about it: this child has definitely not got your procrastination habit." "That's reassuring," Harry chuckled, settling back against the sofa and cradling her in his arms. A sensation of stunned, terrified delight filled him. This was real, not just a vision they'd talked about. She was carrying his child. Their child. He instinctively tightened his grip on her, and she smiled up at him. "Don't worry," she said quietly. "I promise everything's fine. Madam Pomfrey checked us both out pretty thoroughly yesterday, and gave me a lecture about being sensible." She pulled at face of disgust at him, and continued, "I don't seem to have morning sickness or anything, so as long as we keep up the Charm of Illusion, no one's going to know. It won't really start to show for another month or two anyway, so that gives us a while to make sure it's working smoothly." "It's a lot to take in," Harry said, letting out a long, slow breath. "Seven weeks. Wow." "I really didn't know before yesterday," she said, looking up at him, tears suddenly beginning to well in her eyes. "I wanted to tell you then, but I couldn't get you on your own and then I lost my temper with you. I'm so sorry, Harry. I never meant to yell at you like that. I think it all got a bit much somehow and…and…" "Ginny," he exclaimed, kissing her gently. "You think I care about that? Shout at me all you want, if it makes you feel better. I mean, it's my fault all this is happening anyway." "And how did you work that out?" she sniffled, rummaging through her robes for a tissue. "I seem to recall being a perfectly willing participant in the practical application of method." "You were," he chuckled at the familiar phrase. "But if it wasn't for me, we wouldn't be having this baby for another few years. It's not much of a destiny to offer you in marriage, is it?" "It's our destiny now, not just yours," she whispered, a stray tear stealing unbidden down her cheek. He caught it, and smoothed it tenderly away with this thumb. "We'll share this together, just like we always do." "I'll do anything, you know I will, but this is far harder for you," Harry mused. "I don't know much about pregnancy at all, but you're going to have to carry this little one around with you, and that can't be easy." "I'll manage," she said, sounding absolutely determined. Her face broke into a watery grin. "Anyway, it's hardly a problem right now. You know this kid of ours is currently about this big?" She leaned over and tossed an Every Flavour Bean at him, watching as he balanced it in his palm. Harry stared incredulously at the little speckled apricot bean: so tiny; so very vulnerable. Then an awful thought occurred to him. "Ginny, we haven't hurt it when we've… um… y'know?" he asked anxiously, still flushing at the very thought. "No," she shook her head emphatically. "I asked about that because I wasn't sure either, but Madam Pomfrey said we should just carry on as normal." She giggled mischievously and added, "I didn't tell her about the broom cupboards, though." "I should think not!" he laughed, sliding his hand lovingly into her hair, enjoying the smooth silkiness of it twisting around his fingers. "What else did she tell you? Come on, tell me the worst." "Oh, you're in for a great time of it," she grinned, her eyes sparkling in the firelight. "Just imagine, you've got seven more months of me having mood swings, bursting into floods of tears for no apparent reason, having insane cravings at all hours of the day and night." "You're kidding?" Harry asked, his eyes widening in amazement. "And that's not to mention the birth itself," she commented airily, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Did you know that…" "Don't," Harry interrupted swiftly, closing his eyes. "Don't Gin." He shook his head trying to block out the thought. "People get through it," she said reassuringly, kissing his cheek. "Look at Mum. If it was that bad she wouldn't have had seven of us, would she? I can't pretend I'm looking forward to it, but Mum said you soon forget the pain. We'll be all right. All three of us." Silence fell between them, the only noise emanated from the fire cracking and spitting in the grate. He held her in his arms, head burrowed in beside her, breathing in her scent, and absorbing their future. His hand slid curiously round her, fingers spreading protectively over her stomach. "It's really happening," he whispered at last. "Oh Harry," she sighed, smoothing her hand over the back of his. "We've just got to keep our baby safe and make sure Voldemort can't do anything to him like he's tried to do to us. If he ever found out that there was the danger of Truitinae Bonitas repeating itself…" Her voice trailed away. "He won't," Harry insisted at once, a sensation of utmost determination flooding through him. "Ginny, we've got to be so careful. Once the baby's here, we can use the protection spells Dumbledore was talking about, and you shouldn't be in danger then either. It's just these next few months…" "You'll never guess when this baby's actually due." He shook his head, still thinking too hard to work out the maths. "How does 31st July sound?" she smiled. "You're joking?" he exclaimed, feeling a thrill of pleasure shiver through him. "No," she smiled, squeezing his hand tightly. "Although Madam Pomfrey did say that up to two weeks either side of the date is pretty normal, so the odds of it arriving on your actual birthday are slim. We should be back at The Burrow by then, unless it's too dangerous to travel." "Do your mum and dad know?" Harry asked curiously. "Not yet," she shook her head. "I was going to ask Ron if I could borrow Pig to send them the message we agreed on in the summer, but Ron doesn't know yet either." "Can we tell him tomorrow?" Harry murmured. "I'm not sure I want to share this with anyone just yet. It's nice just the two of… the three of us knowing about it." "It is," she said softly, getting to her feet and reaching out for his hand. "Let's just disappear for the night. I don't feel much in the mood for company either." "Sounds good to me," he smiled, sweeping up the remnants of the Every Flavour Beans from the ground, and depositing them in the wastepaper basket, which lurched from side to side in a chewing motion, and then burped contentedly. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Come on," he chuckled, reaching for her hand. They crossed the common room, and Harry paused automatically at the foot of the stairs, as he had so many times before. She stretched up on tiptoes, drawing him into a loving kiss, before they vanished from view into the velvety darkness of the spiral stairwell.
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