Secrets

CHAPTER 3

"What did he make you do?" Ron demanded as she entered the room.

Ginny shook her head as she sat down at the table. "Nothing really. I mostly just caught up my potions work."

"That's reasonable," Hermione said as she dipped her quill in the blue ink.

"I'm going to bed." Ginny stood back up and slowly made her way up to her dorm. As tired as she was, sleep didn't come quickly.

She rolled uncomfortably in her large bed, trying to ignore the slight feelings of nausea and indigestion creeping up in her stomach. She crawled to the end of the bed and reached in her trunk for the package her mother had sent the day before. There was a small bottle with white, round powdery pills that resembled candy and a note attached that read Your father said Muggles take these for indigestion and they are supposed to work well. Apparently Hermione told him about them last summer. Ginny shook several of the chalky pills into her hand, inspected them, and then began to chew them.

She was relieved her mother hadn't disowned her, as she was afraid she would when Ginny broke the news over the Holidays. Ginny didn't want to return home, but her mother insisted because the whole family would be there, a short break in their lives that were now consumed with fighting the war. The entire family ended up at Harry's house on Grimmauld Place, since it was still the safest place to be, and Ginny had tried to spend her days hiding in her room. Afraid that her mother would somehow know her secret, Ginny argued with her mother and was openly rude in an attempt to keep her away, until Christmas Eve when her mother broke down crying.

"I don't understand what I've done," she sobbed. "Why are you treating me this way?"

Ginny stared silently at her, unsure of what to say.

"What did I do? I only see you a few months out of the year, and this is what I get?"

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered.

"Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry," she said again.

She kept repeating herself, saying she was sorry until her mother said, "What Ginny? Tell me!"

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Oh, no. No, no, no! Please, no."

"I'm sorry." But then, Ginny was crying.

"Not that . . . please," Mrs. Weasley was sobbing.

"I'm pregnant."

"You're only fifteen. You can't be!"

"I'll be sixteen when it's born," Ginny pointed out.

"Who? Who did this to you?"

Ginny chewed on her fingernail before answering and wiping fiercely at a tear. "I'm not telling."

"How far?" her mother asked faintly.

"Two, almost two months."

Christmas Day was strained, with Mrs. Weasley crying every time she looked at Ginny. Finally, at dinner time, Fred looked at her and said, "What have you done?"

Ginny shut her eyes.

"Nothing," her mother spoke up. "She didn't do anything."

"We have to tell them eventually," Ginny said softly.

Her father was clutching the edge of the table. "Tell us what?"

"I'm pregnant."

She was met with silence.

Her mother began sobbing harder. Her father's hands gripped the table so hard Ginny wondered if they would leave imprints. Bill's fork dropped to the floor.

"Who did that to you?" Ron shouted, jumping up.

"No one did anything to me," Ginny said wearily. "It doesn't matter."

Protests and angry questions flew, and Ginny scurried out of the dining room and locked herself in her room.

CHAPTER 4

Late that night, she allowed Charlie into her room. "Are you mad at me?"

He shook his head. "Just a little sad."

"I'd rather you were mad."

He sat down beside her on the bed. "Do you remember Katrina Katerkoff?"

"Not really."

"We dated for a long time when I went to Hogwarts."

Ginny nodded. "I remember that."

"When we were in our seventh year, right before the N.E.W.T.S., she told me she was pregnant."

Ginny looked up sharply. "What happened?"

"The teachers ended up giving her some charms so that no one would know, and we gave the baby up for adoption. Some wizarding family in France took it."

"Was it a boy or a girl?"

He shrugged. "We didn't find out. It seemed easier not to."

"And then what?"

Charlie smiled sadly. "We broke up. Things became complicated."

"Well, I don't have to worry about that," she said.

"Does the father know?"

Ginny nodded. "I guess."

"What does he think?"

She shrugged. "We haven't talked about it."

On the way to the train station several days later, Ron stared at Ginny with burning eyes and finally asked, "Did Malfoy do something to you?"

Ginny had nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. "We don't even speak to each other, Ron."