[A/N]: Ok! Listen up! If you've already read this, go back and read chapter 4. Things will make more since...such as exactly why Harry apparated into Ginnys flat in the middle of the morning. I goofed and got all out of order. My bad. Secondly, the big paragraphs in the middle that are in italics, those are dreams. ((Thanks to el mago who caught the confusing-ness of that)) When something is a flashback, it will have the date that it actually happened above it. I promise, that'll be hard to miss. So, enjoy.
“If Mum thinks I’m coming over tomorrow morning to finish that conversation; she has truly gone batty,” Ginny thought as she made her way to the shower, glancing at the pieces of the still shattered vase on the floor on the way. “I cannot believe she knew! I can’t believe Hermione didn’t tell me! Why wouldn’t she? Why wouldn’t Ron? You know, for such an overprotective brother, you would think he’d clue me in every once in awhile.”
She let out a yell of frustration before stepping into the steaming water, hoping to calm herself down before going to bed. She knew that if she didn’t she would have the dreams tonight for sure, and she hated the dreams more than anything.
When she ran out of hot water, she climbed out of the shower and carefully made her way around the pieces of the vase before flopping on her bed. Sliding under the covers and snuggling up, she tried to even her breathing and relax her muscles as she closed her eyes. She was asleep before she had the chance.
“Oh, look love, it’s snowing,” he said as they made their way home from dinner. When they reached her little flat, he titled her chin up and kissed her softly. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Always. Even when you were gone.”
They went inside the flat and snuggled on the couch in front of a roaring fire, where they talked and laughed, and even cried, all night.
The dream faded out as Ginny tossed onto her other side. She spent a few hours in a mercifully dreamless sleep before another took over.
They were in the same flat, her flat, but it was different somehow. It felt more like a home. He was diligently working on something very particular and detailed at the desk in the living room, and Ginny carried him a glass of pumpkin juice. As she set it down on the desk, he jumped and knocked it over onto the papers stacked haphazardly across the desk.
“Damn it, Ginny! I was nearly finished!”
She recoiled and began to sputter an apology. She couldn’t help it. The tears had started to make their way down her face and she was having trouble speaking, so she just covered her mouth with her hand and cried. Harry looked up from the mess on the desk and instantly felt terrible. He moved quickly to the other side of the desk and pulled her into his chest.
“I’m sorry, love. It’s just complicated and detailed and I’m too thick to sort it out easily. It wasn’t your fault anyhow, I knocked the juice over. It’s not like it can’t be fixed easily.” He paused for a moment and raked his hand through his hair. “Merlin, I’m a prat. How do you ever put up with me?”
Ginny sniffled, then looked up and grinned wickedly. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But, there are a few things you do quite well that make it all worth my while.” She reached up, placing her hand at the nape of his neck, and pulled him close for a kiss – effectively cutting off any and all responses. A short while later she broke the kiss, drawing a grunt of displeasure from her husband. “Finish your work; I have to get back to the kitchen or your supper will burn.”
“I don’t care about supper,” he said huskily as he pulled her to him again. “This suits me just fine.” He kissed her after each word, lingering exceptionally long after the last word, punctuating the sentence quite effectively, to be honest.
She broke the kiss once again, and moved just far enough away that their lips were no longer touching. “That’s nice dear, but you’ve forgotten that you married a Weasley. And we like our suppers on time and not overcooked.”
By this point, it was getting harder and harder to finish a coherent thought, much less a sentence, as she had to dodge his lips after every few words when all she really wanted to do was snog him right then, but, of course, she had something very special planned for dinner. She caught his lower lip between hers when he opened his mouth to argue with her and tugged on it gently before letting go. She headed back towards the kitchen, but stopped halfway there.
“And you’ll not be having supper or dessert, love, unless you’ve finished your work.”
“Scourgify,” Harry said immediately, cleaning and organizing the mess covering the desk, before sitting down and resuming his work. Although, this time, Ginny noted, there was a more obvious amount of effort being put into it.
He’d just finished when she called him for supper. He had to stifle a laugh as he entered the room. “Ginny, what possessed you to fix ribs? I know I told you I had them in America, and they were quite good, but where did you learn how to cook them?”
“I can read. It’s called a cookbook, pet. And they aren’t just ribs, they’re baby back ribs,” she said as she turned back to the cabinet to get plates and glasses down.
Harry turned back to the table and surveyed the rest of the food. Baby carrots also graced the table, but nothing else had been served. “Love, are you planning on feeding us tonight? Or are baby carrots and baby ba…” the word died on his lips as he put two and two together.
“Harry?” Ginny had set the table by then and was carefully gauging his reaction. So far, he only showed signs of shock. She took a tentative step closer and touched his arm.
Harry jumped.
“Does this, does this mean that you’re, [gulp] we’re, going to have a baby?” he questioned, meeting her eyes.
Ginny nodded, and he whooped, then swooped her up and spun her around.
“Oh, love, I have never been this excited in my life! We’re going to have to get a bigger place; we definitely cannot raise a family here. I’m going to be a father … I’m going to have a son, with you.” He raked his hand through his hair and grinned before moving to kiss Ginny properly. “I love you so much,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to hers.
“Mmm. I love you too. But it’s going to be a girl.”
"Doesn't matter," he said as he lowered his lips to hers again.
“OWWW! Bloody hell! There’s glass all over the place!”
Ginny shot bolt upright in bed, grabbing for her wand that was sitting on the nightstand. She yanked the covers up around her as she saw who the intruder was.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
“Well, your mum told me that you wanted me to put anti-apparation charms on your house this morning. I didn’t figure you’d still be in bed, it’s nearly noon! Merlin! I also didn’t figure you’d have broken glass strewn all around your room, otherwise, I would have left my boots on and risked facing your wrath when you saw the mud all over your flat,” he said sardonically, glancing at his socked, and now bloodied foot.
“Don’t just stand there and bleed on the rug, you twit! Get to the bathroom! I’ll be there in a second.”
Ginny watched him hobble to towards the bathroom and let the covers fall around her. She got up to find her dressing robe, not noticing that she was treating Harry, who had looked back over his shoulder, to a nice view of her legs and chest as she walked about the room in her nightie. She flicked her wand at the pieces of the vase and muttered “Repairo.” The pieces flew seamlessly back together, leaving only a small hole. That piece, Ginny assumed, was stuck in the bottom of Harry’s foot. She made her way to the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the linen closet on the way there.
Harry, in the meantime, had seated himself on the toilet and peeled off the bloody sock. When Ginny arrived, he was crossing his legs trying, rather unsuccessfully, to get a look at the bottom of his foot. Ginny raised her eyebrow at him and then knelt on the ground at his feet.
“Let me see your foot Harry.” She carefully removed the glass, giving him what she hoped was a sympathetic look when he winced. She cleaned the cut, then conjured a bandage to wrap around his foot and cleaned his sock. When she had finished doctoring him up, Harry took the sock and looked at his foot.
“You know Ginny, if you felt so unsafe as to resort to scattering glass around your bedroom, I’m sure Hermione or Ron would have put up the anti-apparation charms for you.”
“What an arrogant prick!” she thought, before coming back with “Don’t be silly, Harry, I only leave out the good glass when I’m expecting scum to drop by.” The vindictive smile on her face, however, disappeared as she watched Harry’s face fall. “Merlin! Why do I constantly let my temper best me? That really was too much.”
“Well, look, it’s clear you don’t want me here, Gin, so I’ll just be going. I’ll stop by Ron’s and let him know I didn’t have time to get your charms up, that way you won’t have to worry about anymore scum apparating into your flat.” He was out the bathroom door and halfway down the hall before she could even register his response.
“NO! Why didn’t I learn my lesson? Why can’t I ever hold my tongue? Surely I am not this thick. I will not let this happen again.” The thoughts raced through Ginny’s brain as she tried to get her body to move and her mouth to work simultaneously. “Harry! Wait! Please, don’t go!” she called as she rushed after him. By the time she reached the front door, she was shaking and he already had one of his boots on and was reaching for the other. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t leave…” She took a deep breath and leaned against the wall to support herself, finishing the plea with “me again” in a near whisper – quietly enough that she was sure he couldn’t have heard it, though she allowed herself to hope that he had.
"Did she just say what I think she did?" He shook his head and looked up at her from underneath the unruly black locks that fell in his eyes. The hurt was visible, and Harry couldn’t help but think of the last time she looked like this. “I really think it would be best if I went ahead and left Gin,” he all but whispered.
“Harry. Please,” she whimpered, fighting back tears.
He couldn’t make himself leave, not again. Not when the circumstances were so similar to the last time he left. He would not, he could not, leave her like this again. “Let’s get started then, or we’ll be here for the rest of the day,” he said. He meant for the words to be light, but they came out strangely gruff and emotionless.
The words sounded cold, but Ginny swore she saw something determined flicker in his eyes before he said he would stay. “It’s not much,” she thought, “but it’s the only bit of hope I’ve got left.”
[A/N the second]: Next part should be up tomorrow. And yeah, I'm sorry about the corny way Ginny decided to let Harry know she was pregnant. I had it all planned out, but when it came down to writing it, for some reason, all I could/can think of that are that obvious in conveying the message were baby back ribs and baby carrots. Sorry.
Also, reviews would be much appreciated. Notice grammatical / spelling errors, things that are confusing, if something doesn't flow, etc. Let me know.
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