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    Neville picked Kira up later that day. He looked much better than he had a few hours prior and he even seemed to be a bit cheerful. After he left, Ginny made Harry some dinner and they cleaned the rest of the house together. All of Ginny’s family was fine. Ron’s house had been attempted at being broken into, but Hermione had managed some quick spellwork and they were saved from any danger. Bill and Fleur suffered from minor burns and Angelina had a broken foot, but they were all glad it was nothing more serious.

    The Wizarding Community picked up the pieces from the attack in a slow but steady manner. A memorial service was held a week after the attacks as a from of closure. Daily schedules were resumed with a determination to move forward, but not without a remembrance of what had happened.

    On January 7th, Ginny attended her Healer’s appointment alone. With all the action the Ministry was seeing it was a miracle she even saw Harry. Everything seemed to be in order, but like always, Ginny was reminded not to become overexcited because the odds were against her. Another appointment was made for February 20th.

    At that point, Ginny was beginning to show her condition, and after the attacks she felt a sudden need to be close with her family. She and Harry told them she was expecting a baby over the holidays. There was a primary shock, but it was followed by overwhelming support.

    Ginny’s next few appointments went smoothly. As the harsh winter weather faded, so did some of Harry and Ginny’s nervousness over their unborn child. Ginny entered her third trimester without too much apprehension. She gained 20 pounds by mid April and by the beginning of May she was starting to feel like an elephant.
On a breezy morning in early May, Ginny woke feeling completely refreshed. Harry was still sound asleep, having worked late the previous night. Ginny went downstairs to prepare some breakfast. As she opened the fridge, a tawny owl pecked at the window from the outside, a small note attached to his leg. Ginny opened the window and poured a small bowl of water for the bird. She untied the note from it’s leg and began to read.





    Ginny finished reading and knew a morning with Luna would be more refreshing than breakfast by herself. She sent Luna her reply and left Harry a note telling him where she had went. Ten minutes later she was sitting in a small café with Luna, chatting about when they were at Hogwarts together. Catching up about the past few years was refreshing for Ginny. Luna was never one to dwell on the negative, and with a high-risk pregnancy and a dangerously employed husband, positive was what Ginny needed.

    Luna and Ginny sat at their table long after they had paid their tab and were having such a good time that after their waitress shot them many dirty looks they decided to go window shopping.

T    he part of town Sam’s was in was just the type of area Luna would be familiar with. There were odd looking shops that lined twisting streets along a 3-block radius. The road that Luna and Ginny were walking was narrow and winding. They passed an apothecary with strange looking potion ingredients Ginny had never seen in Diagon alley, a magical menagerie with strange looking horned animals in the front display, and an ancient looking robe shop with very unique styles. They approached the last shop on the street and Luna let out a very un-Luna like squeal.

“Ginny!” she said in her sing-song voice. “Ginny, look at that adorable mobile hanging in the display!”
   
    Ginny had seen the mobile but thought weird was a more appropriate term to describe it. On the five arms of the mobile hung a flower with only one petal, a fake unicorn horn, a fairy, what looked like a nose of some sort, and a stuffed pink animal Ginny didn’t recognize.

“It’s very, er, unique,” said Ginny.

“I must buy it for you,” said Luna.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” said Ginny, imagining what it would be like to wake up to the mobile every morning.

“No, I insist. Call it the baby’s first present.”

    An hour later Ginny was Apparating home with her new mobile. If she and Harry had started on a nursery she would have had a general idea of where to put the box containing Luna’s gift, but they had never decided which spare bedroom would belong to the baby. In fact, they hadn’t decided on a lot of baby things. They still didn’t have a name, a crib, clothes, or godparents picked out. Their detachment from the pregnancy probably seemed alarming to outsiders, but up until now it seemed to have been working. After some consideration, however, Ginny slowly began to realize the effects of going through a high risk pregnancy.
   
    So, instead of placing the mobile over a crib, she set it by the front door. She then approached the kitchen to find the source of a sweet smell of oranges that was wafting through the house.

“Gin? Is that you?” Harry said as she entered through the doorway.

“Yup,” she said, now looking over the rather large pile of new post on the counter. After glancing at a sale ad for Flourish and Blotts, she noticed Harry was beaming at her.

“How was lunch?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear.

“Fine,” said Ginny shortly, ignoring his odd behavior. This seemed to surprise Harry.

“What’s wrong,” he asked.

    Ginny sighed. “Luna bought us a mobile for the crib.”
   
    Harry had a puzzled look on his face and said, with a hint of amused sarcasm,

“Should we notify the Ministry or go straight to the Wizengamot?”

    This was obviously the wrong thing to say, however, because Ginny threw her hands into the air and stalked out of the kitchen.

“You know, I knew you would take it like this,” said Ginny.

“Wait, Ginny,” Harry called after her. He followed her to the living room. “Gin, what’s the matter?”

“Harry, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this mobile is the first thing we have for the baby. We don’t have anything planned because, I don’t know, we’re afraid that by buying a crib we’ll jinx the pregnancy or something. We never talk about what we’ll do if something were to happen to the baby-”

“Gin, I didn’t-”

“No Harry, I know you didn’t, and it’s partly my fault, too. I’ve been so scared about all this that I feel guilty about getting excited. I don’t know what to do anymore. This just isn’t the way I planned us having a baby Harry, it isn’t!”
    By this point, Ginny was in tears, holding back sobs. She was sitting in a chair and Harry was standing next to her, cautiously watching her.

“Gin?” he said softly. “Gin, do you know what day it is today?”

“What?” she sniffled.

“Today. Do you know what today is?” he asked again, very clearly.

“Um, Sunday?” she said.

“Well, no actually, it’s Saturday, but I meant the date. Do you know what the date is?”

    Ginny shook her head. Harry let out a soft chuckle.

“Gin,” he said. “It’s May 9th. Today is the 35 week mark.”

    Ginny clapped her hands over her mouth and her eyes began to water even more. “It is?” she asked softly, in disbelief.

    Harry smiled and nodded. A smile now spread across Ginny’s face. “Are you sure?” she asked, as if not wanting to get her hopes up.

“Yeah, Gin, I’m sure,” said Harry.

“No, I mean are you really sure?!” she asked a second time. She got up out of her chair and hurried into the kitchen. She returned with the pregnancy calendar clutched to her chest, and she was definitely crying now.

“It’s been 35 weeks. Harry, it’s been…we made it!” she said in between sobs.

“I know,” said Harry, and he hugged Ginny as closely as her oversized stomach would allow. “I know.”



A week later Ginny was at Hermione and Ron’s house, which was completely unrecognizable. Hermione had decorated her living room with pink and blue balloons and streamers for Ginny’s surprise baby shower. About 20 of Ginny’s closest friends were seated at four small tables with linens that changed from pink to blue. Ginny had finished opening her presents and the guests were now staring to leave. Luna was the last to say goodbye.

    After she had left, Hermione began to straiten up and Mrs. Weasley pulled Ginny aside.

    “Mum, thank you so much for this wonderful surprise,” said Ginny, hugging her mother. “It was perfect.”

“Oh, pish posh Ginevra. I actually have one more present for you.”

“Mum, another!” Ginny exclaimed. Her mother had already bought a rocking chair, a changing table, an about 20 outfits.

“Mhmm.” Her mother reached into her purse and pulled out a small satin pouch.

“Here,” she said, handing it to Ginny, who took it and gently pulled at the strings.

    Whatever was in it was soft, and a moment later Ginny was holding a small pink knitted sweater with a “G” on the front.

“It was yours as a baby,” said her mother fondly. “I thought your little one would like it.”

“You think it’ll be a girl?” asked Ginny.

“I have a strange feeling it will be,” said Mrs. Weasley.

    Ginny smiled. “Thanks mom,” she said. “It’s lovely.”

“Ginny,” said Mrs. Weasley. “I want you to know how proud I am of you. I’ve always looked forward to the day my babies had babies, but none of your brothers more so than you. I love all of my children, but a mother has a special bond with her only daughter.”

“Mum,” said Ginny fondly, trying not to cry. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

    There was a moment of silence and Ginny said, “Okay, so lets help Hermione clean up.”

“Oh, no. You go home and get some rest. I’ll have your father bring your gifts over later on.”

“No, mum, I can help-”

“No!” her mother insisted. “It’s taken care of. Now go!”

“Okay, okay. Thanks again mum.”

    And with that, Ginny Apparated home. She walked in the front door and Ron and Harry were sitting in the living room playing Exploding Snap with Joshua and Michael while Cameron watched intently from his playpen.

“Hello boys,” said Ginny as she set her purse on a table and took a seat with them.

“Hey baby,” said Harry.

“Hey Gin,” said Ron.

“How was the shower?” asked Harry.

“It was so wonderful,” said Ginny.

“That’s good,” said Ron. “Are all the guests gone?”

“Yup, you’re in the clear,” said Ginny.

    Ron made a move to get up.
   
“Although,” said Ginny. “My mother and Hermione are cleaning, so you might want to wait a bit.”

    Ron sat back down. “Right,” he said. “So whose turn is it?”