Nine Months in F Minor

Five weeks previously.

Ginny Weasley sat alone in the Gryffindor sixth- and seventh-year girls’ bathroom.

    She wore Muggle clothing because it was the weekend; a thick corduroy skirt that came a few inches short of her knees, and an old white blouse with roses embroidered onto the collar.

    She was sitting on the toilet with the seat down, her legs close together. She was hunched over, staring at her bare toes.

    I can’t believe that this is happening to me, she thought, glaring at the pregnancy test in her left hand.

    She had sat here, on this toilet, holding this pregnancy test, for ten minutes, and nothing had happened by way of results - not even a single irrelevant spot in the “positive/negative” box.

    She willed the test to come back negative…willed it to say she wasn’t pregnant.

    But instead, nothing happened at all.

    She sighed.

    There was a feeble knocking on the door, but it was locked…and she was safe.

    “Ginny?”

    The pregnancy test almost slipped out of her hand in shock.

    “Ginny Weasley, let me in this instant!”

    “Hermione?”

    “Yes, now let me in!”

    She shrugged and waved her wand at the door, which sprang open to reveal Hermione.

    Hermione charged in; the door shut behind her. She was clutching something in her hand; she noticed Ginny eyeing it curiously and stuffed it into her jacket pocket.

    Her eyes fell on Ginny’s hands, and all too late she realized that she had not hidden the pregnancy test.

    She did not bother to conceal it, for Hermione had already dropped her bag and was rushing towards her.

    “Oh, Ginny…you…you too…”

    Ginny looked sadly at her.

    “Are you?”

    “Am I what?”

    “You know…pregnant.” She whispered the last word.

    “Oh…well, you see, I dunno. The pregnancy test isn’t ‘responding’,” she said.

    “Let me see it,” asked Hermione, and Ginny handed it over.

    Hermione studied it for a moment, an odd emotion glinting in her eyes.

    “Silly,” she said, pulling her wand out.

    “Silly?” asked Ginny indignantly.

    “Yep,” Hermione answered. “You have to do this spell to it…” Her voice trailed off. “Didn’t you read the directions?”

    “Erm…” mumbled Ginny as Hermione tapped to test once and said some spell that sounded like a load of Gobbledegook to Ginny.

    “Thanks,” whispered Ginny timidly, petrified of what the test would reveal.

    “Anytime,” said Hermione softly, staring at the pregnancy test.

    “Wait a moment,” said Ginny, as something occurred to her. “How did you-”

    “There you go,” Hermione said, cutting her question off. “Positive.”

~

    That evening, when Ginny knocked on Hermione’s door, she found the older girl sobbing into her pillows. Her brown hair curled elegantly around her head, like carven mahogany or sheared chocolate.

    Ginny frowned, walking to Hermione’s side, and tapped her on the shoulder. Hermione looked up, her face pink all over, her eyes red, long streaks of wet marking her cheeks.

    “What’s wrong, Hermione?”

    “What do you think is wrong?” asked Hermione harshly. Then her face fell and she amended.

    “Sorry. I’m just so upset.”

    “Why? What happened?” asked Ginny innocently.

    “Ron gave me this ring for Valentine’s Day,” she said, more tears coming. “A blood ring, I think he called it. It changes colors with the love a couple feels. It s’posed to be an - an - an engagement ring when it turns diamond. But look at it.” She pulled her hand out from under her pillow. It was still sapphire, shot with amethyst..

    “It’s very pretty,” Ginny said uncertainly.

    “Diamonds are prettier,” said Hermione.

    “I’m sorry.”

    Hermione covered her face and started sobbing. After a while she looked up and said, “And now I can’t tell him… about - about -” She gestured hopelessly at her stomach.

    “What, Hermione?” asked Ginny concernedly.

    “I’m pregnant too!” said Hermione, the words bitter against her throat.

    “No,” breathed Ginny, so softly the words seemed to disappear before her mouth had fully formed them.

    “Yes, yes, yes,” replied Hermione acrimoniously.. “I am.”

    Ginny stared for a long time at the older girl, shock, then almost relief, coursing over her body in waves. Then she patted Hermione on the arm. “We can be pregnant together,” she said, consolingly.

    Hermione smiled slightly, unconsciously looking down at her belly. Though Ginny hadn’t previously noticed, now she did; Hermione, like herself, had gained perhaps a pound or two, and her stomach wasn’t as flat as usual. “I suppose.”

    “Listen, Herm,” said Ginny. “It’s tough, trust me, I know. But just think; you’ve got someone who’ll love you, and your baby, and will always be there for you.”

    Hermione smiled, glancing down at the ring on her finger. “Like you don’t.”

    Ginny looked away.

    “I mean, you do, don’t you? You didn’t just get knocked up by some random guy?”

    “Of course not,” said Ginny uneasily. “Not some random guy.”

    “Who, then?”

    Ginny looked away again. “I don’t want to say,” she said.

    “Harry?”

    Ginny looked up in shock. Hermione gazed knowingly down at her younger friend.

    “Maybe.”

    Hermione gasped slightly then laughed, a thin, weak laugh that had not been laughed in what seemed like years.

    “You’re perfect together, you know,” she said, looking down at the ring. “Perfect.”

    “Don’t tell Ron?”

    “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

    They laughed again, and Ginny realized something she had not noticed before. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but both their laughs seemed to rasp slightly, like older women’s did.

    “What do you think you’ll name it?”

    “Dunno,” said Ginny, the spontaneous smile fading from her lips. “Maybe after one of Harry’s parents, or Sirius.”

    “Yeah,” said Hermione. “That would be good.”

    They stared vaguely out of the window, eyes faraway, dreams and wonderful thoughts flowing freely throughout their minds.

~

    “Listen, Harry,” said Ginny, pulling slightly away from him, breaking their steamy morning kiss. “I need to tell you something.”

    He raises an eyebrow at her, green eyes confused. “Oh?”

    She shivered against her will at the way he was looking at her. She looked away, pulling out of his arms, and sat down.

    He sat down too, noticing the worry in her eyes. “What’s wrong, Gin?”

    She frowned and shook her head, hiding the internal battle of whether to tell him.

    She did, to stop his hand from sliding up her blouse again, but the words all came out jumbled and unclear:

    “Arryigonhavababywityou.”

    “Pardon?”

    “Erm…Harry I’m going to have a baby with you,” she corrected nervously, her light cheeks flushing in embarrassment. White light was straining into the empty common room. It was a Saturday, which meant no classes and Hogsmeade.

    Harry stood up, so fast she gasped. “What?”

    “Yeah…” she said vaguely. “I was sort of surprised to. But well, you know, I suppose this is what they mean when they say to invest on Anti-Pregnancy charms and potions.”

    Harry was in a state of shock he had never felt before. “You - you’re not serious.”

    He stared at her for a while, trying to drown himself in her chocolate eyes. It wasn’t working. And then he started to laugh, a thick, you-got-me-good, doubled-over, eyes watering laugh.

    He kept it up for at least three straight minutes, then looked up, gasping. Ginny had an eyebrow raised and her face was flushed.

    “You’re not joking, are you?”

    She shook her head slowly, unconsciously rubbing her belly.

    Harry put a hand up to his forehead and breathed deeply, in-and-out, trying not to hyperventilate. “Oh my God,” he whispered, sweating. He kept repeating it.

    “I can’t deal with this,” he snapped, and walked away, leaving her behind.

~

    Ron took it differently. Hermione and him stayed in the common room until every one else had gone, then Hermione leaned over to help him with his potions and whispered it.

    “Pardon?”

    “You heard me right, Weasley. I’m pregnant, it’s your fault, we’re all going to die.”

    “Fun stuff, then.”

    “Oh yes.”

    Silence.

    “So how long have you known?”

    She coughed. “Only like - three weeks?”

    “Ah.”

    “My parents are going to kill me dead,” she said. “I tried to owl them, but they sent the letter right back. Dead, I say.”

    “I didn’t know there was another way to be killed.”

    She laughed. “Don’t joke, Weasley. You’ll be dead right along with me.”

    “Whoo Hoo - So… what names do you like?”

    She snorted. “I dunno. Leo…things like that.”

    “And if it’s a girl?”

    “Easter.”

    “Huh.”

    “Like you’ve got better ideas.”

    “No, but I wish you did.”

    “Ah, fuck you, Weasley.”

    “That’s generally why we’re a part of this dilemma.”