Fic: Stolen Moments by lunalovepotter
To: luna_plath
Title: Stolen Moments
Author/Artist: lunalovepotter
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: R
Word Count: 9179
Summary: A seemingly innocent gift from a fan causes a multitude of problems for Harry & Ginny.
Author/Artist's Notes: Thank you to my betas, almond_joyz and luvscharlie for helping me work out the kinks. You ladies rock! And a big thank you to flyingcarpet for her patience.
Ginny sat on the edge of the tub staring at the plastic stick with the two distinct pink lines in the little window. She wouldn't have believed it, except for the fact that this was the third test she'd taken and every single one had given the same result. She would rather have done the Pregnancy Spell, as to avoid going to the chemist and risk being recognized, but the spell was too complicated and she was pressed for time. So right after that afternoon's Quidditch practice she threw on a rudimentary disguise and went to an out of the way chemist in Muggle London where she was fairly sure no one would know her. She had considered calling her sister-in-law to ask for advice, but then decided to wait because Hermione could never keep anything from Ron, and then Ron in turn would tell everyone, and Ginny still wasn't sure how she felt about it. Besides, Harry had to be the first to know. It was his baby, after all. And it was no one else's business but theirs.
His baby. Harry's baby. Sweet Merlin. She stifled something halfway between a sob and a giggle. Then she heard the door close. It startled her so much that she dropped the plastic stick into the bathtub.
"Ginny! Ginny, luv, are you home? Ginny!"
"Erm..." she cleared her throat. "In -- in here!"
Harry appeared in the doorway a second later, still wearing his dark purple Auror robes with the Ministry seal in the upper right shoulder.
"What’re you doing in here?” he asked.
Ginny leaned into the tub to retrieve the fallen pregnancy test. Then she retrieved the other two from the trash bin. She held them up, fanning them out so he could see all three. Her stomach was in knots. “You know how I haven’t been feeling 100-percent lately?” she said. “The fatigue, the upset stomach, and the strange fluctuating appetite, not to mention crying at those ridiculous advertisements…?”
“Yeah.”
“Well today, I realized that my cycle was late; very late. I’m never late. So I stopped off at a Muggle chemist after practice today, on a hunch.” Her heart moved into her throat. She was having trouble swallowing.
Harry stepped in closer, peering at the plastic sticks. After what seemed like ages, comprehension dawned on his face. “Hang on, that’s not…is it?” He looked up, wide-eyed. “A Muggle pregnancy test?”
She nodded once, and cleared her throat. “I took it three times, all with the same result. I - I’m pregnant, Harry.”
The news hung in the air for a long moment. Then a small smile started across Harry's face. But he retracted it as he studied Ginny's expression. He knelt down in front of her. "How do you feel about this?" he asked, tentatively. “It means giving up Quidditch.”
Ginny had been uncertain not two seconds ago, trying to wrap her head around the idea of becoming a mother; but in that instant as she looked at Harry everything became clear. It was as though someone had pulled the blinds up from a darkened window to let the sunlight stream in. She leaned forward, dropping the test sticks on the floor, and caught Harry's lips in a delicate kiss. "I feel brilliant," she said, framing his face in her hands. “I love Quidditch, and I’ll miss it of course; but I love you, and our baby, so much more.” She had only known about the baby’s existence for mere minutes and she already knew with absolute certainty that she loved it as though it was right there, in her arms.
"So we're having a baby?" Harry said; his voice was unsteady. He kissed her forehead.
"Yes." Her eyes welled with tears. "But let's wait before we tell anyone else. I'd like to keep it to ourselves for awhile, at least until the season ends. It’s only six weeks; and it’ll give us enough time to get used to things. I hate to keep this from the family, but it’s going to be crazy enough when people find out, and -- “ She broke off when she saw the flicker of worry in Harry’s eyes. “What is it?”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” He directed his gaze toward her midsection, and delicately put his hand there as though her belly was a fragile eggshell. “I know you’re a highly skilled flier; still I can’t help worrying, just a little…it’s our baby.” His voice cracked a little on the word ‘baby’.
The emotion in his voice tugged at her heart, and for a moment Ginny considered throwing her instincts to the wind and retiring from Quidditch right then and there. But she just couldn’t. She took Harry’s hand away from her stomach and held it in hers.
“I promise I will be careful. If I even sense any trouble I’ll quit straight off. But I can’t leave now, Harry. I have to finish the season; we have only four matches left, and I owe it to the team to see it through. It’s always been a dream of mine to have a family with you, but Quidditch is my dream, too.”
Harry hesitated, but only for a second. Then he nodded his head, a beautiful smile spreading across his lips. She caught her breath as she imagined their child having that smile. “Okay,” he said. "So...how far along do you think it is?"
"Well, the only possible time that I can think of where I might've been distracted enough not to do the Contraceptive Charm was about two months ago, on Valentine's Day...?" She raised her eyebrows, and Harry grinned.
"The night I proposed. Better known as the night you made me the happiest bloke on the planet."
She nodded, beaming. "Sounds about right."
"Sounds just about perfect." Harry sifted his fingers through her hair, lifting it up and away from her face. He traced one finger along the line of her cheekbone, and hooked it under her chin to draw her closer for a kiss. Their lips flirted for a few seconds. "I love you, Ginny."
"I love you, too," she said, falling into his arms.
* * *
The following morning, Ginny Apparated to the rear entrance of the arena that was reserved for Quidditch players. She closed her eyes against a sudden wave of lightheadedness, and for a moment thought she might actually faint. She waited until it passed, and then started for the door marked "Players Only."
"Gin -- I mean, erm, Miss Weasley?"
Ginny turned around. The little boy seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. She hadn't heard any footsteps, and she'd been standing there for almost half a minute. He had messy auburn hair and dark brown eyes and wore jeans and a striped t-shirt. Freckles were splashed across the bridge of his nose, and covered his bare arms. In his hands was a small potted plant with purple flowers. He looked to be about eight years-old. Ginny imagined that her own son might look very much like him. She felt a pulse of warmth in her chest at the thought.
She glanced around; there were some adults in the vicinity, but none seemed to be minding the boy. There weren’t any security personnel around either; although she reminded herself that security was usually lighter on days when there wasn't a match being played. "Hi there," she said. "Are you lost?"
The boy shook his head, and held up the plant. "You're my favorite Quidditch player," he said with enthusiasm. He slightly mispronounced the word Quidditch so that it sounded like "Kidditch".
"Well, thank you, that's awfully sweet of you. What's your name?"
"Gavin Mumford. I'm seven."
Ginny smiled. He really was cute and endearing; it reminded her of Harry when he was trying to talk her into doing something. "Where's your mum and dad, Gavin? Is someone here with you?"
"I want to give you this plant, because you're pretty and you fly a broom really fast, and you have red hair like me," the boy said, ignoring her question. His cheeks flushed red, and he held the plant up higher, insistently. When she hesitated, he pushed it toward her. "Please? You have to take it. Be--because my older brother Tommy bet me that I wouldn't have the nerve to talk to you...and if I lose, I have to give him all of my Famous Wizards Cards. I have over one-hundred of them, including five Harry Potter ones." He said this last part very pointedly, with special emphasis on Harry's name, but Ginny didn't notice.
"Wow, you have five Harry Potters? That's great. I heard those were very hard to get." Harry had actually tried to have himself excluded from the collection, but public demand - and a little bit of prodding from her brothers - won out. The first time he'd bought a package of Chocolate Frogs and found his own trading card had been a very uncomfortable moment. "All right, then, you can tell Tommy that he doesn't get to take your cards." Ginny accepted the plant from his hands. "Thank you very much, Gavin. It's a very pretty plant. Now how about we go find your --”
"That's okay. Bye!" Before she could say anything else, the little boy turned on his heel and took off.
It only occurred to Ginny later, as she made her way down the two flights of stairs into the bowels of the arena where the Harpies' changing area was located, that the entire encounter had seemed somewhat strange. She eyed the innocuous looking purple flowers, and for a second she considered tossing the plant in the rubbish bin. "Oh bugger, it's just a plant," she said, with a shrug. And the little boy was really cute.
Two of her teammates were already in the changing room when she arrived; Beater Marion Shelby, tall and sturdy with brown hair cut into a functional bob, and Corinne "Cory" McAvoy, a fellow Chaser who was very similar to Ginny in size and stature, with long dark blond hair worn in a plait down her back. She had been Ginny's mentor when she started on the team, and the two had since become good friends.
"Hey Ginny, where'd you get the plant?" Cory asked, gravitating to Ginny's locker. She delicately fingered the petal on one of the small purple flowers. "I like the flowers."
Ginny set the plant down on the bench in front of her locker. "A little boy gave it to me, just now. He was a real cutie, too." Without thinking, she let her right hand linger on her belly for a few seconds before she started to open her locker. She wondered if she was having a boy or a girl. It didn’t really matter to her; although she had to admit that after growing up in a family of boys, a baby girl would be a welcome change.
"I don't know what it is with you and the fans. It must be that red hair," Marion remarked, with a good-natured wink. "People always seem to gravitate to the gingers."
"Plus she's a brilliant Chaser - I taught her everything she knows," Cory teased, her arm around Ginny's shoulders. "Of course, that very fanciable boyfriend doesn't hurt either. Boy, you two are going to have adorable babies. Imagine your gorgeous hair with those green eyes...and of course I'll be Godmother, right?" She gave Ginny a playful nudge in the ribs. Ginny's face flushed with heat, but it wasn't because of her teammates' comments; they teased her like this once in awhile, and she was used to it. Her stomach lurched threateningly.
"Sorry, excuse me," she said abruptly, and dashed toward the door with one hand over her mouth. In her haste she nearly knocked headlong into two more of her teammates, including Captain Gwenog Jones. "Sorry!" she blurted, and then rushed across the hall to the loo, locking herself in a stall.
By the time she made it back into the changing room, the rest of the team had arrived and was assembling on the benches in front of the whiteboard where Gwenog was about to review their new play. Still feeling a bit wobbly, Ginny placed the plant on a nearby shelf where the extra equipment was kept, and took a seat on the bench. She focused her attention on the diagram Gwenog had drawn on the board to illustrate the play, and pretended not to notice the curious glances of her teammates.
"All right there, Weasley?" Gwenog asked, taking her place at the front of the room.
Ginny nodded once. "Fine, thanks," she replied, and then averted her eyes, wishing everyone would stop looking at her. Cory's earlier remark about babies played on a continuous loop in her head. A little smile tickled the corners of her mouth. Unable to help herself, she touched her belly again.
"Good. We need everyone in top form for tomorrow's match. This play is a sure bet if we can get it right. Judging by last practice, we have the basic procedure down but we need a bit more fine-tuning." Gwenog waved her wand in front of the whiteboard to set the diagram in motion for her demonstration.
Cory sat alongside Ginny and squeezed her thigh reassuringly. "Is everything okay?" she asked, in a muted tone.
"Yeah, I think the milk in my cereal was expired or something. I always forget to check the date on the carton," Ginny replied, off the top of her head. It was a thin excuse but Cory seemed to accept it, to Ginny's immense relief. The subject was closed as Gwenog began to talk, using the diagram to illustrate the technical aspects of the play, and their roles in its execution.
* * *
Harry wasn't home when Ginny arrived back at their flat just after four o'clock, exhausted from practice. Humming contentedly, she set the plant down on the table and went about preparing two slices of toast on Mum's thick homemade bread slathered with strawberry jam, which she promptly devoured. She had a sudden craving for Shepherd's Pie, and made a mental note to suggest to Harry that they order some for dinner from the new restaurant down the street. Then she made her way to the bathroom, stripping off her clothes along the way, to draw a hot bath. She dropped in some lavender-scented bath salts, piled her hair on top of her head with a clip and slipped into the tub with a satisfied moan. She rolled up a face towel to cushion her neck on the edge of the tub. Then she closed her eyes, draping her arm over the side, and let the water work its magic on her muscles.
She started reviewing that day’s practice in her head. But that faded before long, and segued into thoughts about her baby, floating around inside her belly. She remembered what Cory had said in the locker room. ”Boy, you two are going to have adorable babies. Imagine your gorgeous hair with those green eyes...” That did sound nice, Ginny had to admit. Then she found herself wondering what she and Harry's children would look like, and thought of Gavin Mumford. That encounter had been rather random, and while it seemed innocent enough on the surface there was something else about it that nagged at her. She couldn't put her finger on it. Before she could dwell on it too much, her thoughts shifted again, and she was looking into the face of a beautiful red-haired, green-eyed baby cradled in her arms with Harry hovering over her shoulder. She swore she could feel his lips touching her head. A smile drifted across her face, and she felt tingling warmth settle in her stomach. Her hands drifted down to rest there. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she detected a slight rise in her belly.
She was really having a baby. The idea of being pregnant used to scare her, but now not as much. Plus how sexy was it to carry the child of the man she loved? She smiled again, this time emitting a chuckle. Very sexy, indeed. One finger strayed over her clit, and her hips quivered.
She was close to falling asleep when she sensed another presence in the room. Auror training had provided Harry with remarkable skills in the art of stealth, but somehow she could always tell when he was nearby even without the hint of a breath or a footfall. Without opening her eyes, she lifted her arm and beckoned him. "Come join me," she said, her voice gravelly with fatigue. She heard the sound of clothes being shed; shoes dropping with a thud, a zipper being drawn down, a belt buckle clattering as it hit the floor.
"Wasn't sure if you wanted company, since you looked so peaceful," Harry admitted. As he stepped into the water, Ginny opened her eyes and feasted her gaze on his impressive naked form with his burgeoning erection. Gods, she loved what Auror training had done for him; his muscles were firmed up, his abs were spectacular, and his shoulders were broad and strong. Not to mention his stamina in bed had increased tenfold.
Harry settled on the opposite side of the tub. He draped his arms around the sides, and tilted his head invitingly. She scooted across the tub and rested against him, nestling her bum into his groin. His arms came around her front. He paused to cup her breasts, gently fondling her nipples, which tightened immediately at his touch. Then he dropped his hands and began to stroke her belly. He bent to nuzzle her neck. "How was practice? Are you feeling all right?"
"Practice was intense, as always. But I'm fine. I was thinking about you just now," she said.
"Oh, yeah? Anything good?"
"Well, I thought about what an amazing dad you're going to be. This is one lucky baby."
Harry kissed the shell of her ear. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured. “Just imagining our baby growing inside you right now is just…well it’s bloody amazing.”
“I thought I felt a little swelling there. Can you feel anything?” she asked, putting her hands over his. “It might be too early, but I could swear I felt something.“
Harry’s hands stilled. “Sweet Merlin, that’s our baby,” he said, almost reverentially. He pressed his lips firmly into her neck while she squeezed his hands.
“Yes, it is. And before long I’m going to be big and fat like a lumbering Hippogriff.”
“I can’t wait to see you big and fat. You’re going to be sexy as hell.”
With tears brimming in her eyes, Ginny abruptly withdrew from his arms and turned around, sending some water sloshing over the side. She framed Harry's face in her hands, and then caught his lips in a long, slow, deep kiss. She looked into his eyes and felt such a deep, profound love for him that it almost scared her. She bent to kiss him again. "Let's go to bed," she said, angling her head toward their bedroom.
"You're sure you aren’t too tired? Plus you have the match tomorrow, and there is that pesky rule of yours about no sex the day before a match…” Harry raised his eyebrows.
"I’m fine. All I want right now is to fuck the living daylights out of you. Do you have any objections?" She rose to her knees, bracing her hands on the tub as she started to get out of the water.
"Hell, no." Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling devilishly as he took in her wet, naked body. She felt his approving gaze like warm lasers on her skin. Her nipples responded appropriately.
"Then afterward, I thought we'd get some food from the new place down the street. I've got a craving for Shepherd's Pie." Ginny stepped out of the tub, and released her hair from the clip so that it fell down around her shoulders.
"Anything you want." Harry climbed out of the tub, grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom, both of them dripping wet. "By the way, where'd you get the plant?"
* * *
It didn't make any sense. They had studied that play ad nauseum and had executed it to perfection in yesterday's practice. There was no way that any other team could possibly have figured it out, except that somehow the Appleby Arrows were one step ahead of them from the moment the play started. Already distracted by last evening’s romantic interlude with Harry (after which they had fallen asleep, too exhausted to even order dinner), Ginny had been so shocked to see the Arrows' Chaser Wendy Wanamaker sweep across from the right to intercept the Quaffle that she'd had to pull up short and make a sharp turn to avoid what could have been a nasty collision. She wound up nearly falling off her broom in the process. It had taken her several minutes to regain her faculties, and even then her performance had been 'off' for the remainder of the playing time. She'd nearly lost the Quaffle once and completely blanked on a play she'd performed at least fifty times before, which came close to costing the team a much-needed goal. The Harpies still managed to squeak out a win with Heather Gray's miraculous diving catch of the Snitch, but the failure of that seemingly foolproof play left them all baffled and frustrated.
"What the fuck happened? This was supposed to be an easy win!" Marion complained, as the team filed back into the changing room after the match. The only response was disgruntled grumbling and equipment being tossed heavily into lockers. Even Gwenog, usually a pillar of composure in the most stressful situations, was noticeably put out.
"I don't understand how they knew what we were going to do," Cory groused, flopping down on the bench with a resounding sigh.
"Gwenog, I thought you said this play had never been used before," whined Heather Gray, as she peeled off her shin guards and let them drop to the floor.
"It hasn't been used before! I've been playing professional Quidditch for eight years, and I think I would know if it had been used before, Gray!" Gwenog snapped, causing Heather's delicate features to crumple like a little girl's. The strawberry blond pixie turned away to wipe the startled tears out of her eyes. Gwenog sighed, and patted Heather's shoulder. "I'm sorry, it's no one's fault. I'm just as disappointed as the rest of you."
"Well someone must have snitched, intentional or otherwise; or planted an eavesdropping device," Marion said, her eyes flashing. "It's the only possible way Appleby could have known what we were doing." She cast an accusing glance around the room, and was met by stolid, angry expressions from her teammates.
"And how do we know it wasn’t you, Marion?" snapped Cory, rising to her feet with her fists clenched. She was a good head shorter than Marion, but was a very skilled witch more than capable of doing her bodily harm.
Then Gwenog stepped in, positioning herself between Marion and the rest of the team. "Hey! All of you just calm down. There's no need to start turning on each other. We're all upset and need to clear our heads. I'll evaluate the situation and figure out what happened. I'm sure there's some sort of logical explanation," she said, although she didn’t look entirely convinced. "Everyone hit the showers, and go home for some rest. We'll regroup on Tuesday at practice. I'll deal with the press," she added.
* * *
Harry was pacing the floor of the living room, open Auror robes streaming out dramatically behind him, when Ginny arrived home after the match. She was still reeling from the surprising turn of events, and was so preoccupied that it didn't even occur to her to be surprised to see him home in the middle of the afternoon.
"Are you okay?" he asked, as she flopped onto the sofa.
"I'm fine," she answered distractedly. She released her hair from the ponytail and rifled her fingers through it; she found it helped to clear her head when her thoughts were muddled. "I just don't understand how they knew what we were doing...it's like they were right there in the room with us when we reviewed the play, but there's no possible way they could...Harry, why are you looking at me like that?"
Harry had sat down next to her, his handsome brow creased with worry. The way his jaw was set told her that a speech of some sort was coming, and it occurred to her then that he must have either seen or heard about her near-mishap on the field. She started to speak, but the insistent look in his eyes quieted her.
"I think you should stop playing Quidditch," he said carefully.
"Harry, no. That's nonsense." Ginny started to get up, but Harry's hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her gently back down.
"No, it's not. You almost collided with that other player today. I know you can steer a broom with the best of them, but that was just too close for me, Ginny. If you'd pulled up even a second later..." Harry wrapped both of his hands around hers. He swallowed hard, seeing the flash of defensiveness in her face. "We could have lost the baby."
"But I didn't collide with her, and the baby is perfectly fine. I would never put myself in any position where I felt it would harm my child."
"But don't you see, not every situation is within your control. There's no way of knowing what could happen."
"So I'm supposed to just not do anything at all for the next seven months, because there's a small chance it could hurt the baby? I understand your concern, Harry. But it's unnecessary."
She could see the growing frustration in Harry's eyes, yet he still maintained his composure; yet another testament to the intensive Auror training program. "I never said that you shouldn't do anything at all. I just think that having both of your feet firmly on the ground, and reducing stressful activities for the next few months isn't a lot to ask."
"Quidditch isn't stressful to me. It's a release. It's an escape." Ginny leaned close to him, leafing her fingers through his hair. "Yes, today was a close call. But everything turned out all right. There are only four matches left. Then I swear both feet will stay firmly on the ground until this baby pops out of me in December. If you want, you can even take my broom away and hide it, to avoid any temptation." She kissed him, tugging on his lower lip with her teeth.
Harry released her hand and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close to his body. "That won't be necessary," he said gently, brushing his lips across her head. "Just please, please be careful up there." There was a tremor in his voice.
"I will. I promise."
* * *
"GINNY!! HARRY!! "
Ginny heard the voice calling her from the front room as she rolled over in bed the following morning. It sounded like Mum, and she sounded upset. She mumbled something about being downstairs in a minute, and then promptly settled back to sleep. Harry slid closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist to clasp against her belly. His leg curled over hers, while he nestled his lips into her neck.
"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY, YOU COME OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!"
Ginny bolted up like a shot. Her stomach lurched, and she felt momentarily dizzy. She hadn't heard Mum scream like that since the night she'd snuck out of the Burrow to sleep at Harry's flat over the holiday break during her last year at Hogwarts. That was a sound she'd never wanted to hear again. Although she'd come pretty close when Mum found out that she'd secretly moved in with Harry not long after joining the Harpies; even though Harry was like a son to her, Mum was still funny about her only daughter living with him while unmarried. It had taken a good deal of negotiation to calm her down.
"Bloody hell, it's seven-thirty!" Harry groused. "What in Merlin's name is going on?"
"I don't know, but I'm not waiting to find out." Ginny Summoned her robe from the chair, and threw it on over her skimpy nightshirt and knickers. She shot a look over her shoulder at the bleary-eyed and shirtless Harry, indicating that he was to join her. Grumbling, Harry pushed off the covers and Summoned his jeans and a t-shirt.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER, THIS MEANS YOU TOO!"
Filled with a sense of dread, Ginny and Harry stepped into the living room a minute later. Ginny groped for Harry's hand, squeezing it tightly as they made their way to the source of the screaming. Mum's head floated in their fireplace wearing an expression somewhere between shock and anger. The moment they entered her line of vision, her eyes locked on them accusingly. It made Ginny feel about three feet tall. Harry's hand felt sweaty inside of hers.
"M-morning, Mrs. Weasley," he offered. Mrs. Weasley shook her head, and clucked her tongue. Harry blanched and shrunk back, looking for a moment like the scrawny little boy he'd been when he first came to the Burrow. Ginny moved closer to him instinctively, as if to protect him.
Ginny cleared her throat. "Hello Mum," she offered, with a timid smile. "Wh-what's going on?"
"What's going on, you ask? Well, let's see. I got up this morning at seven o'clock to prepare breakfast for your father as I always do on Sunday mornings, and as usual picked up today's Daily Prophet from the back stoop..." She raised her eyebrows, as if to suggest that they should know what she was talking about. Harry and Ginny exchanged confused - and terrified - glances, and then looked back at the suspended head. Then Ginny relaxed, suddenly realizing what this had to be about. Mum always fussed about what she called the 'rough play' of Quidditch matches, and she'd undoubtedly heard about the incident on the pitch at yesterday's match.
"Hang on, is this about what happened at the match? Mum, I've told you I'm a grown woman and I can take care of -- "
"This has nothing to do with your match yesterday, Ginevra, although I do stand by what I said about Quidditch being a reckless sport. Now tell me: are you, or are you not, currently two months pregnant?" She shot a disparaging look in Harry's direction.
"Bloody hell!" Harry blurted reflexively, which essentially answered the question. Ginny nudged him in the side.
"Mum, I -- " Ginny's head was swirling. There was no possible way that anyone could have known about this. Even if someone had spotted her at the chemist they wouldn't have known the results of the test, or how far along she was. It made no sense. "I don't -- I never told anyone about this! How could they -- " She looked at Harry, whose face had gone from one of confused terror to one of barely suppressed anger. "Mum, I swear. We only just found out two days ago. Honestly, we haven't told anyone. We've hardly had time to even process the news yet. You can't possibly think we would have told the press before our own family! We would never do that."
This conversation was interrupted by a banging on the front door. Since the Floo was currently occupied, it could only be one person.
"Ron, please! It's seven-thirty, people are sleeping!"
"I don't care, Hermione - this is my sister and my best friend we're talking about. Harry, open the door!" The banging continued. "Open it before I blow it off its bloody hinges!"
"Oh sweet Merlin," Ginny sighed, heading for the door. "Keep your ruddy trousers on, Ron. I'm coming!" She had barely released the latch on the door before Ron came barrelling into the room with his wand raised. He was barefoot, in jeans and an old orange Cannons t-shirt that he had clearly just thrown on straight out of bed. His hair stuck up in all directions. Behind him was Hermione, who judging by her neat appearance had already been up for some time. She still held what Ginny assumed to be that morning's Prophet rolled up in her hand. She shot an apologetic look in Ginny's direction.
"I'm sorry, I tried to convince him it wasn't true, but he insisted on hearing it from you..." she trailed off when she saw Ginny's awkward expression. "Hang on, you mean...really?" Her eyes widened.
Ginny nodded. A tiny smile tugged at her mouth, despite the heated situation. "It's true; we're pregnant. Although we don't know how the Prophet found out. We only just got the news ourselves."
"Oh my goodness, Ginny!" Hermione shrieked. She dropped the newspaper on the floor and barrelled toward Ginny, throwing her arms around her neck. The sheer force of Hermione's enthusiasm nearly knocked Ginny off her feet.
Meanwhile, Ron made straight for Harry. "So it's true, then?"
Harry nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Yeah mate, it's true. But we didn't talk to the press, I swear." He left out the part about how they'd been planning to keep it secret for the next six weeks. His jaw set tightly as he continued, "Although I intend to find the bloody prick who did and -- "
"Harry!" Ginny cut him off, reminding him that her mum was still there with a jerk of her head.
"I'm sorry, but I don't care, Ginny. This is an invasion of our privacy and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Enough is enough." He looked at Ron. "Are you in?"
"You bet your arse I'm in."
"Excellent. Let's get down to the Ministry."
* * *
Once Harry and Ron left for the Ministry with fire in their eyes and her mum had been appeased enough to leave, Ginny and Hermione settled in at the kitchen table with the Daily Prophet. The headline screamed: "WEASLEY PREGNANT WITH POTTER PROGENY" with the byline "Harpies Chaser Due to Deliver In Time for Holidays." Underneath it was a publicity photo of a beaming Ginny standing with her broom; alongside that was Harry's official Ministry photo taken the day he passed Auror training, in which he looked vaguely constipated. The only reason there wasn't a picture of them as a couple was the result of a calculated plan by Harry and Ginny not to ever be in a position where they could be photographed together in public. The longer Ginny stared at the headline, the more aggravated she became. The name of the reporter was someone she'd never heard of, yet at the same time the name seemed familiar. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She'd almost half-expected the author to be Rita Skeeter: the sensational nature of the headline had her mark all over it.
"I just don't understand how this happened," she said again, as Hermione poured her a cup of tea and sat down opposite her. "This is just so not how we wanted this to go, Hermione. All we wanted was to enjoy the idea of becoming parents, and to share it with our family. That's it. But now the whole world knows. Harry's upset, and once he get something stuck in his head he won't let it go. Meanwhile I will probably get sacked from the Harpies with the four biggest matches of the season coming up. What a way to end a career, hey?" Tears of frustration stung her eyes, and she felt mildly nauseated.
Hermione reached over to put her hand on Ginny's. "I'm sorry," she said. "But I'm sure Harry will get to the bottom of it."
"Yes, I'm sure he will." Ginny sighed. "My stomach's feeling upset. Would you mind -- ?"
The words had hardly left her mouth before Hermione was on her feet, bustling around the kitchen. She sent two thick slices of bread into the toaster, while Summoning the strawberry jam and a pitcher of juice from the icebox. It was mildly comforting for Ginny to watch her sister-in-law take care of things. But she didn't get to enjoy it for long before a familiar gray owl landed on her windowsill bearing a note with the Harpies official seal on the envelope. Ginny's stomach dropped into her feet as she tugged the envelope from the bird's beak. Before she could ask, Hermione was there with a small handful of owl treats, which the bird took respectfully and began to nibble while perched on the edge of the table. The fact that the owl wasn't leaving told Ginny that the Harpies expected an immediate answer to the contents of their letter.
"Merlin's beard, I'm in for it now," she muttered, digging a nail under the wax seal. She tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter, scanning over the brief but terse missive. Her jaw clenched and unclenched as she read, and she felt tears of frustration burning behind her eyes. The whole situation felt unreal, as though it were happening to someone else.
"What is it?" Hermione asked. A small plate of toast landed smoothly on the table in front of Ginny, along with a nearly full glass of juice. But Ginny had lost her appetite.
"I'm suspended, effective immediately, pending an investigation. They want me to sign the bottom of the note to confirm I've received it." Ginny's voice sounded disembodied, and foreign. She felt rising tension in her chest. "They're not even waiting to hear my side of it. They don't care if it's true or not. Shoot first, ask questions later. Well, so much for standing up for your players. Bloody wankers."
Hermione sat down next to her, and put her hand on Ginny's wrist as it rested on the table. "Ginny, I'm so--"
But Ginny had pushed back her chair and jumped to her feet, her heart racing. The sudden movement jostled the table and sent some juice sloshing over the side of the glass. "No," she said firmly. "No, no, NO!" She crumpled the letter and hurled it across the room. With a quick flick of her wrist she Summoned her wand and the paper burst into flame in mid-air, disintegrating into ash on the floor. Hermione gasped, and the owl squawked indignantly. Turning on her heel, Ginny stalked in the direction of the bedroom to get dressed.
"Where are you going?" Hermione called after her.
"To set things right!" Ginny declared. "I don't know who's doing this, but they are NOT going to get away with it!"
* * *
Gwenog looked up in surprise when Ginny burst through the door of the captain's cramped office adjoining the locker room, out of breath and flushed. Her heart was racing in her chest.
“So that’s it, then?” Ginny demanded.
Gwenog rose slowly to her feet, gesturing to the solitary wooden chair across from her cluttered desk. “Ginny, I think you had better sit down,” she said in a measured tone.
Momentarily thrown by the fact that Gwenog had referred to her by her first name for the first time in three years, Ginny shot a glance at the chair and then looked back at her captain. “I’d rather stand,” she said. She felt the prickly heat of impending nausea pooling in her belly, and closed her eyes for a moment until it settled.
“Clearly you’re unwell. Please sit down,” Gwenog said, a little more insistently.
“I’m very well, thank you. Not that you care much either way,” Ginny retorted icily. Gwenog’s jaw set tightly, a gesture that normally sent tremors of fear through even the most stalwart players. But Ginny hardly noticed. “So after three years of teamwork, including one championship, one MVP award, and two All-Star team selections, you send a bloody owl to sack me without even giving me a chance to defend myself?”
“I would say the circumstances warranted decisive action.”
“Since when do you take the word of the press over your own players? You don’t even know if it’s true!”
“Well, is it true?” Gwenog’s eyes gravitated toward Ginny’s belly, and then back up again. Ginny didn’t answer, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. Gwenog cleared her throat. “All right, then. We also have reason to suspect you had some hand in the fiasco at the Appleby match yesterday.”
Ginny straightened her shoulders indignantly, as rage coursed through her. “Hang on, I’ve been loyal to the Harpies from Day One! I’ve wanted to play for this team since I was six years old. I would never do anything like that!”
“The fact that you played while pregnant, which is against regulations, is a good start. Not to mention that you kept your condition a secret from the team. That doesn’t exactly demonstrate team loyalty.”
“I only just found out about the pregnancy myself! I’ve barely had time to even process the news, and I have absolutely no idea how the press even caught wind of it since we hadn’t even told my family yet when the news broke. Plus there are only four matches left in the season, and I feel as fit as I ever have. I saw no reason to jeopardize the team’s chances by leaving with so little time left.”
“You may have done just that by violating the rules. We could be forced to forfeit our win against Appleby, which we need in order to have a legitimate shot at the championship.” Gwenog’s dark eyes flashed authoritatively. She rested both hands firmly on the edge of her desk and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Weasley, but the evidence seems to speak for itself. I have no choice but to recommend your immediate suspension - “
Suddenly the nagging suspicions that had been clanking around in Ginny’s head since her encounter with the little boy snapped into place. She realized then that she’d figured out the common denominator between the two incidents. “That’s it!” she blurted, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. “Thank Merlin!”
“Pardon, but what is ‘it’?” Gwenog sounded mildly irritated at being interrupted.
“It’s the plant!”
“The plant? What bloody plant?”
“The plant that the boy gave me the day we practiced the new play! It was in the room when we discussed the techniques, and when we decided at what point to use it during the match. Then I took it home with me, which was when I had that discussion with Harry after the match…of course! It must be hiding a listening device, or it has been enchanted with some kind of eavesdropping charm.”
Gwenog shook her head in confusion, and held up her hands to halt Ginny’s monologue. “Hang on, I don’t remember seeing a plant anywhere.”
“I’m sorry, Gwenog. I’ll explain it later, I promise. But I have to go.”
* * *
Ginny found Harry in his cubicle in the Auror offices, with Ron hovering nearby. She technically wasn’t supposed to be in there, since non-Ministry personnel needed a special security clearance that was nearly impossible to obtain, but the fact that she was engaged to one of the top Aurors in the program, and that her father was a high-ranking Ministry official had given her unspoken permission.
“Ginny, what are you doing in here?” Ron asked, glancing around as though he expected to get in trouble. The office continued its daily bustle without missing a beat; no one seemed to have noticed the unauthorized entrance.
“I’ve got it!” Ginny declared, ignoring her brother’s question.
“You’ve got what?” Harry asked. He immediately stood up and ushered her into his seat.
“I was in a meeting with Gwenog about my suspension when --”
“Hang on, you’ve been suspended?” Harry cut in, looking scandalized. He and Ron exchanged angry looks.
“Bloody hell, that’s rubbish!” Ron complained. “If anyone should be suspended it should be that reporter!”
Ginny squeezed Harry’s wrist reassuringly, and smiled at her brother. “It’s all right,” she said. “As I was saying before, I was meeting with Gwenog when I suddenly realized that there was one consistent thing about both the play being sabotaged, and my pregnancy news being leaked.” She waited a beat, but was met with only blank stares from her brother and her future husband.
“Which was...?” Ron prodded, after a long minute. He gestured with his hands to move the conversation along. “Bollocks, Ginny, we don’t have time for games here.”
“Oh honestly, Ron.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “It’s the plant! Don’t you see? All the trouble started when I brought that plant into the changing rooms before the last practice. Then when I brought it home, and we talked about the baby, suddenly everyone knew we were pregnant.” She looked at Harry. “It has to be bewitched somehow.”
“That makes sense,” Harry put in. “I’ll have to run a spell detection on it to see what’s there. Now the question is, who would have done it?”
“Well we can start by looking into the reporters at the Prophet to see if any familiar names pop up,” Ron suggested. “I’ll put a request in to have a personnel list provided to us, and I’ll have it sent to you as soon as it’s ready, Harry.”
“Thanks, Ron.” Harry patted his best friend’s shoulder, and Ron took his leave.
“That was quite brilliant you know, figuring it out about the plant,” Harry put in, as he helped Ginny out of the chair. “Perhaps you missed your calling.”
Ginny smiled, and kissed his chin. “I learn from the best,” she said. Harry’s face flushed, as it always did whenever she kissed him in public. But instead of withdrawing, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her closer. She was just about to lean in for another kiss when she felt the familiar tug in her belly that indicated she was being side-Apparated. Moments later they landed in their living room. She wavered on her feet for a moment as her stomach settled.
Harry quickly helped her onto the sofa. “Are you all right? Bollocks, I shouldn’t have done that without preparing you first,” he said worriedly, sitting beside her and taking her hands. “Do you need anything, luv? Want to lie down?”
“No, I’m fine. It’s all right.” She smiled weakly, although her stomach was still undecided. She rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her. “You know, I really don’t think I’m going to mind keeping my feet on the ground for awhile after all.”
Harry pressed his lips into her hair, while his hand rested on her belly. She put her hand over his, squeezing it. “This is nice,” Harry said quietly.
“Very,” she answered with a soft smile, as images of the beautiful red-haired, green-eyed baby appeared again. A feeling of contentment settled over her.
Then only moments later there was a tapping at the window. Harry broke away reluctantly to answer it, and came back with a scroll sealed with Ministry wax. “So here’s the listing of all the reporting staff at the Daily Prophet.” He unrolled the official parchment, upon which was a list of names. “Do any of these names seem even remotely familiar?”
Ginny took the parchment, while Harry brought the plant over from the kitchen table and set it down on the coffee table. Picking up his wand, he began to wave it slowly in a circular motion around the plant, murmuring indecipherable words under his breath. Within seconds, a neon blue light emanated from the purple flowers.
“It’s a listening charm, and quite a difficult one, at that. Whoever performed it has made it extremely difficult to track where it was originally done. It could take days to figure it out, and even then it might not give us a lead.” He frowned, his brow furrowed. “I’d like to disable it, but then if we do we risk not being able to trace it at all.” With another flick of his wand, the blue light dissipated. Then he got up again, carried the plant into the kitchen, and returned with two bottles of Butterbeer and some crackers, which Ginny took gratefully.
“Don’t want to be overheard,” he explained. “In case we come up with something, I’d rather the person on the other end not know about it.” He popped open the top of his bottle and took a long swallow of the golden liquid.
Meanwhile, as she munched on the crackers, Ginny noticed one name on the list that stood out to her: Millie Mumford. “That has to be it,” she said, handing the parchment to Harry. “It’s the same last name as the boy who gave me the plant. The only trouble is I don’t know anyone called Mumford…unless…” she straightened her back. The wheels turned in her head as she went back through her memories, extracting one particular name. The idea seemed like a long shot, but then again it also made sense.
“Unless, what?”
“Unless it has nothing to do with the Prophet looking for a scoop, and everything to do with someone from our past; you know, someone who might have a score to settle.”
Harry arched his eyebrows in confusion. “You mean, like Malfoy?”
“Kind of, but this sort of tactic isn’t Malfoy’s style. It’s a bit too complicated for him. He would be more direct and up front. If he had something to say to you or to me, he’d just come out with it. Besides, these days he’s got his hands full running the family business, and he really has no interest in us as a couple. His grudge was always with you specifically. I was mostly an afterthought.”
“And you were clearly the primary target of this plan,” Harry put in with thinly veiled contempt.
“Right. Someone really wanted to see my career go up in smoke.”
“Well then, who else could it be other than Malfoy?”
“Come on, Harry, you’re an Auror; I’m sure you can think of someone from our past who might want to muck things up for us?” She paused, nudging him in the side. “Millie. Short for...”
Harry’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Hang on, you don’t mean Romilda Vane?”
“She was pretty stuck on you at Hogwarts. She also didn’t take it very well when her tainted chocolates failed and you rejected her in my favor. Not to mention I hear she was very talented at performing complex charms.”
“Sure, but that was Hogwarts. She couldn’t possibly still be hung up on an old crush after nearly five years?”
Ginny leaned closer to him, gently kissing his ear while sliding one hand between his thighs. “Can you blame her?” she whispered. Harry’s skin immediately flushed red, and Ginny smiled.
“Oh bugger off,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. But she caught a twitch at the corners of his mouth. “Although I suppose we could check into her background and see if she’s been married since the war, or changed her name for some other reason. I’ll get on it right now -“ Harry started to get up, but Ginny yanked him back down and threw her leg across his lap, straddling him.
“Let Ron do it,” she said quietly, raking her fingers slowly through his hair. She rolled her hips forward along his thighs, and within seconds she was rewarded by a noticeable bulge in his crotch. “I’d like some alone time with you.”
Harry’s arms came around her waist, his hands settling in the small of her back. “What about that upset stomach?”
Framing his face in her hands, she caught his mouth in a long, deep kiss. She slid her tongue into his mouth, eliciting a low growl from his throat. For several minutes they did nothing else. Harry’s hands moved up under her shirt, stroking her bare back. Her nipples tightened expectantly, while her hands dropped between their bodies, to his waist. She started to work the belt buckle. Breaking the kiss, she looked into his face with his slightly swollen lips and the dazed post-kiss expression.
“Something about pregnancy makes you even more irresistible, Potter. And you know how important it is to indulge a pregnant witch her cravings.” Ginny arched a brow suggestively.
Harry grinned. “Indeed,” he said. Then he took her hands away from his belt, raising them to his lips. He kissed her fingers. “Let me send an owl to the Ministry to open up a background check on Romilda, aka ‘Millie Mumford’, and then I’ll meet you in there.” He cocked his head toward the bedroom.
“Don’t be too long.” Ginny traced the tip of her finger along the curve of his jaw.
“I wouldn’t worry about that. And by the way, you really did miss your calling, luv. You’d make an amazing Auror.”
“Perhaps, but right now, though, I think I’ll just focus on being an amazing mum.” Ginny smiled, her heart fluttering at the thought. Then she felt a sudden twinge of anxiety, as if the magnitude of what was happening had only just hit her. “You do think I’ll be good at it -- I mean, the whole mothering thing?”
“Absolutely,” Harry said confidently. He pulled her close again. “No question in my mind, you’ll be a brilliant mother.”
“I hope so,” Ginny murmured, nestling her head in his shoulder.
* * *
Epilogue:
After the war, Romilda Vane dropped her surname and changed it to Mumford, in honor of her mother who was a casualty of the war. Her father had passed away when she was a very young child. She moved in with her widower uncle, and became a ‘big sister’ to her younger cousins; Gavin was her favorite, and a huge Quidditch fan, so he was easily talked into doing his cousin a big “favor” by presenting her "friend", Ginny Weasley, with the enchanted plant in exchange for more Famous Wizard’s Cards. Used to getting what she wanted, Romilda, aka “Millie”, never got over her failed attempts to seduce Harry Potter at Hogwarts, and even though she was sacked from her position at the Prophet as a result of her plot - and was also subsequently banned from attending any professional Quidditch matches for a year - she refused to give up hope of someday winning Harry’s heart.
Title: Stolen Moments
Author/Artist: lunalovepotter
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: R
Word Count: 9179
Summary: A seemingly innocent gift from a fan causes a multitude of problems for Harry & Ginny.
Author/Artist's Notes: Thank you to my betas, almond_joyz and luvscharlie for helping me work out the kinks. You ladies rock! And a big thank you to flyingcarpet for her patience.
Ginny sat on the edge of the tub staring at the plastic stick with the two distinct pink lines in the little window. She wouldn't have believed it, except for the fact that this was the third test she'd taken and every single one had given the same result. She would rather have done the Pregnancy Spell, as to avoid going to the chemist and risk being recognized, but the spell was too complicated and she was pressed for time. So right after that afternoon's Quidditch practice she threw on a rudimentary disguise and went to an out of the way chemist in Muggle London where she was fairly sure no one would know her. She had considered calling her sister-in-law to ask for advice, but then decided to wait because Hermione could never keep anything from Ron, and then Ron in turn would tell everyone, and Ginny still wasn't sure how she felt about it. Besides, Harry had to be the first to know. It was his baby, after all. And it was no one else's business but theirs.
His baby. Harry's baby. Sweet Merlin. She stifled something halfway between a sob and a giggle. Then she heard the door close. It startled her so much that she dropped the plastic stick into the bathtub.
"Ginny! Ginny, luv, are you home? Ginny!"
"Erm..." she cleared her throat. "In -- in here!"
Harry appeared in the doorway a second later, still wearing his dark purple Auror robes with the Ministry seal in the upper right shoulder.
"What’re you doing in here?” he asked.
Ginny leaned into the tub to retrieve the fallen pregnancy test. Then she retrieved the other two from the trash bin. She held them up, fanning them out so he could see all three. Her stomach was in knots. “You know how I haven’t been feeling 100-percent lately?” she said. “The fatigue, the upset stomach, and the strange fluctuating appetite, not to mention crying at those ridiculous advertisements…?”
“Yeah.”
“Well today, I realized that my cycle was late; very late. I’m never late. So I stopped off at a Muggle chemist after practice today, on a hunch.” Her heart moved into her throat. She was having trouble swallowing.
Harry stepped in closer, peering at the plastic sticks. After what seemed like ages, comprehension dawned on his face. “Hang on, that’s not…is it?” He looked up, wide-eyed. “A Muggle pregnancy test?”
She nodded once, and cleared her throat. “I took it three times, all with the same result. I - I’m pregnant, Harry.”
The news hung in the air for a long moment. Then a small smile started across Harry's face. But he retracted it as he studied Ginny's expression. He knelt down in front of her. "How do you feel about this?" he asked, tentatively. “It means giving up Quidditch.”
Ginny had been uncertain not two seconds ago, trying to wrap her head around the idea of becoming a mother; but in that instant as she looked at Harry everything became clear. It was as though someone had pulled the blinds up from a darkened window to let the sunlight stream in. She leaned forward, dropping the test sticks on the floor, and caught Harry's lips in a delicate kiss. "I feel brilliant," she said, framing his face in her hands. “I love Quidditch, and I’ll miss it of course; but I love you, and our baby, so much more.” She had only known about the baby’s existence for mere minutes and she already knew with absolute certainty that she loved it as though it was right there, in her arms.
"So we're having a baby?" Harry said; his voice was unsteady. He kissed her forehead.
"Yes." Her eyes welled with tears. "But let's wait before we tell anyone else. I'd like to keep it to ourselves for awhile, at least until the season ends. It’s only six weeks; and it’ll give us enough time to get used to things. I hate to keep this from the family, but it’s going to be crazy enough when people find out, and -- “ She broke off when she saw the flicker of worry in Harry’s eyes. “What is it?”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” He directed his gaze toward her midsection, and delicately put his hand there as though her belly was a fragile eggshell. “I know you’re a highly skilled flier; still I can’t help worrying, just a little…it’s our baby.” His voice cracked a little on the word ‘baby’.
The emotion in his voice tugged at her heart, and for a moment Ginny considered throwing her instincts to the wind and retiring from Quidditch right then and there. But she just couldn’t. She took Harry’s hand away from her stomach and held it in hers.
“I promise I will be careful. If I even sense any trouble I’ll quit straight off. But I can’t leave now, Harry. I have to finish the season; we have only four matches left, and I owe it to the team to see it through. It’s always been a dream of mine to have a family with you, but Quidditch is my dream, too.”
Harry hesitated, but only for a second. Then he nodded his head, a beautiful smile spreading across his lips. She caught her breath as she imagined their child having that smile. “Okay,” he said. "So...how far along do you think it is?"
"Well, the only possible time that I can think of where I might've been distracted enough not to do the Contraceptive Charm was about two months ago, on Valentine's Day...?" She raised her eyebrows, and Harry grinned.
"The night I proposed. Better known as the night you made me the happiest bloke on the planet."
She nodded, beaming. "Sounds about right."
"Sounds just about perfect." Harry sifted his fingers through her hair, lifting it up and away from her face. He traced one finger along the line of her cheekbone, and hooked it under her chin to draw her closer for a kiss. Their lips flirted for a few seconds. "I love you, Ginny."
"I love you, too," she said, falling into his arms.
* * *
The following morning, Ginny Apparated to the rear entrance of the arena that was reserved for Quidditch players. She closed her eyes against a sudden wave of lightheadedness, and for a moment thought she might actually faint. She waited until it passed, and then started for the door marked "Players Only."
"Gin -- I mean, erm, Miss Weasley?"
Ginny turned around. The little boy seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. She hadn't heard any footsteps, and she'd been standing there for almost half a minute. He had messy auburn hair and dark brown eyes and wore jeans and a striped t-shirt. Freckles were splashed across the bridge of his nose, and covered his bare arms. In his hands was a small potted plant with purple flowers. He looked to be about eight years-old. Ginny imagined that her own son might look very much like him. She felt a pulse of warmth in her chest at the thought.
She glanced around; there were some adults in the vicinity, but none seemed to be minding the boy. There weren’t any security personnel around either; although she reminded herself that security was usually lighter on days when there wasn't a match being played. "Hi there," she said. "Are you lost?"
The boy shook his head, and held up the plant. "You're my favorite Quidditch player," he said with enthusiasm. He slightly mispronounced the word Quidditch so that it sounded like "Kidditch".
"Well, thank you, that's awfully sweet of you. What's your name?"
"Gavin Mumford. I'm seven."
Ginny smiled. He really was cute and endearing; it reminded her of Harry when he was trying to talk her into doing something. "Where's your mum and dad, Gavin? Is someone here with you?"
"I want to give you this plant, because you're pretty and you fly a broom really fast, and you have red hair like me," the boy said, ignoring her question. His cheeks flushed red, and he held the plant up higher, insistently. When she hesitated, he pushed it toward her. "Please? You have to take it. Be--because my older brother Tommy bet me that I wouldn't have the nerve to talk to you...and if I lose, I have to give him all of my Famous Wizards Cards. I have over one-hundred of them, including five Harry Potter ones." He said this last part very pointedly, with special emphasis on Harry's name, but Ginny didn't notice.
"Wow, you have five Harry Potters? That's great. I heard those were very hard to get." Harry had actually tried to have himself excluded from the collection, but public demand - and a little bit of prodding from her brothers - won out. The first time he'd bought a package of Chocolate Frogs and found his own trading card had been a very uncomfortable moment. "All right, then, you can tell Tommy that he doesn't get to take your cards." Ginny accepted the plant from his hands. "Thank you very much, Gavin. It's a very pretty plant. Now how about we go find your --”
"That's okay. Bye!" Before she could say anything else, the little boy turned on his heel and took off.
It only occurred to Ginny later, as she made her way down the two flights of stairs into the bowels of the arena where the Harpies' changing area was located, that the entire encounter had seemed somewhat strange. She eyed the innocuous looking purple flowers, and for a second she considered tossing the plant in the rubbish bin. "Oh bugger, it's just a plant," she said, with a shrug. And the little boy was really cute.
Two of her teammates were already in the changing room when she arrived; Beater Marion Shelby, tall and sturdy with brown hair cut into a functional bob, and Corinne "Cory" McAvoy, a fellow Chaser who was very similar to Ginny in size and stature, with long dark blond hair worn in a plait down her back. She had been Ginny's mentor when she started on the team, and the two had since become good friends.
"Hey Ginny, where'd you get the plant?" Cory asked, gravitating to Ginny's locker. She delicately fingered the petal on one of the small purple flowers. "I like the flowers."
Ginny set the plant down on the bench in front of her locker. "A little boy gave it to me, just now. He was a real cutie, too." Without thinking, she let her right hand linger on her belly for a few seconds before she started to open her locker. She wondered if she was having a boy or a girl. It didn’t really matter to her; although she had to admit that after growing up in a family of boys, a baby girl would be a welcome change.
"I don't know what it is with you and the fans. It must be that red hair," Marion remarked, with a good-natured wink. "People always seem to gravitate to the gingers."
"Plus she's a brilliant Chaser - I taught her everything she knows," Cory teased, her arm around Ginny's shoulders. "Of course, that very fanciable boyfriend doesn't hurt either. Boy, you two are going to have adorable babies. Imagine your gorgeous hair with those green eyes...and of course I'll be Godmother, right?" She gave Ginny a playful nudge in the ribs. Ginny's face flushed with heat, but it wasn't because of her teammates' comments; they teased her like this once in awhile, and she was used to it. Her stomach lurched threateningly.
"Sorry, excuse me," she said abruptly, and dashed toward the door with one hand over her mouth. In her haste she nearly knocked headlong into two more of her teammates, including Captain Gwenog Jones. "Sorry!" she blurted, and then rushed across the hall to the loo, locking herself in a stall.
By the time she made it back into the changing room, the rest of the team had arrived and was assembling on the benches in front of the whiteboard where Gwenog was about to review their new play. Still feeling a bit wobbly, Ginny placed the plant on a nearby shelf where the extra equipment was kept, and took a seat on the bench. She focused her attention on the diagram Gwenog had drawn on the board to illustrate the play, and pretended not to notice the curious glances of her teammates.
"All right there, Weasley?" Gwenog asked, taking her place at the front of the room.
Ginny nodded once. "Fine, thanks," she replied, and then averted her eyes, wishing everyone would stop looking at her. Cory's earlier remark about babies played on a continuous loop in her head. A little smile tickled the corners of her mouth. Unable to help herself, she touched her belly again.
"Good. We need everyone in top form for tomorrow's match. This play is a sure bet if we can get it right. Judging by last practice, we have the basic procedure down but we need a bit more fine-tuning." Gwenog waved her wand in front of the whiteboard to set the diagram in motion for her demonstration.
Cory sat alongside Ginny and squeezed her thigh reassuringly. "Is everything okay?" she asked, in a muted tone.
"Yeah, I think the milk in my cereal was expired or something. I always forget to check the date on the carton," Ginny replied, off the top of her head. It was a thin excuse but Cory seemed to accept it, to Ginny's immense relief. The subject was closed as Gwenog began to talk, using the diagram to illustrate the technical aspects of the play, and their roles in its execution.
* * *
Harry wasn't home when Ginny arrived back at their flat just after four o'clock, exhausted from practice. Humming contentedly, she set the plant down on the table and went about preparing two slices of toast on Mum's thick homemade bread slathered with strawberry jam, which she promptly devoured. She had a sudden craving for Shepherd's Pie, and made a mental note to suggest to Harry that they order some for dinner from the new restaurant down the street. Then she made her way to the bathroom, stripping off her clothes along the way, to draw a hot bath. She dropped in some lavender-scented bath salts, piled her hair on top of her head with a clip and slipped into the tub with a satisfied moan. She rolled up a face towel to cushion her neck on the edge of the tub. Then she closed her eyes, draping her arm over the side, and let the water work its magic on her muscles.
She started reviewing that day’s practice in her head. But that faded before long, and segued into thoughts about her baby, floating around inside her belly. She remembered what Cory had said in the locker room. ”Boy, you two are going to have adorable babies. Imagine your gorgeous hair with those green eyes...” That did sound nice, Ginny had to admit. Then she found herself wondering what she and Harry's children would look like, and thought of Gavin Mumford. That encounter had been rather random, and while it seemed innocent enough on the surface there was something else about it that nagged at her. She couldn't put her finger on it. Before she could dwell on it too much, her thoughts shifted again, and she was looking into the face of a beautiful red-haired, green-eyed baby cradled in her arms with Harry hovering over her shoulder. She swore she could feel his lips touching her head. A smile drifted across her face, and she felt tingling warmth settle in her stomach. Her hands drifted down to rest there. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she detected a slight rise in her belly.
She was really having a baby. The idea of being pregnant used to scare her, but now not as much. Plus how sexy was it to carry the child of the man she loved? She smiled again, this time emitting a chuckle. Very sexy, indeed. One finger strayed over her clit, and her hips quivered.
She was close to falling asleep when she sensed another presence in the room. Auror training had provided Harry with remarkable skills in the art of stealth, but somehow she could always tell when he was nearby even without the hint of a breath or a footfall. Without opening her eyes, she lifted her arm and beckoned him. "Come join me," she said, her voice gravelly with fatigue. She heard the sound of clothes being shed; shoes dropping with a thud, a zipper being drawn down, a belt buckle clattering as it hit the floor.
"Wasn't sure if you wanted company, since you looked so peaceful," Harry admitted. As he stepped into the water, Ginny opened her eyes and feasted her gaze on his impressive naked form with his burgeoning erection. Gods, she loved what Auror training had done for him; his muscles were firmed up, his abs were spectacular, and his shoulders were broad and strong. Not to mention his stamina in bed had increased tenfold.
Harry settled on the opposite side of the tub. He draped his arms around the sides, and tilted his head invitingly. She scooted across the tub and rested against him, nestling her bum into his groin. His arms came around her front. He paused to cup her breasts, gently fondling her nipples, which tightened immediately at his touch. Then he dropped his hands and began to stroke her belly. He bent to nuzzle her neck. "How was practice? Are you feeling all right?"
"Practice was intense, as always. But I'm fine. I was thinking about you just now," she said.
"Oh, yeah? Anything good?"
"Well, I thought about what an amazing dad you're going to be. This is one lucky baby."
Harry kissed the shell of her ear. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured. “Just imagining our baby growing inside you right now is just…well it’s bloody amazing.”
“I thought I felt a little swelling there. Can you feel anything?” she asked, putting her hands over his. “It might be too early, but I could swear I felt something.“
Harry’s hands stilled. “Sweet Merlin, that’s our baby,” he said, almost reverentially. He pressed his lips firmly into her neck while she squeezed his hands.
“Yes, it is. And before long I’m going to be big and fat like a lumbering Hippogriff.”
“I can’t wait to see you big and fat. You’re going to be sexy as hell.”
With tears brimming in her eyes, Ginny abruptly withdrew from his arms and turned around, sending some water sloshing over the side. She framed Harry's face in her hands, and then caught his lips in a long, slow, deep kiss. She looked into his eyes and felt such a deep, profound love for him that it almost scared her. She bent to kiss him again. "Let's go to bed," she said, angling her head toward their bedroom.
"You're sure you aren’t too tired? Plus you have the match tomorrow, and there is that pesky rule of yours about no sex the day before a match…” Harry raised his eyebrows.
"I’m fine. All I want right now is to fuck the living daylights out of you. Do you have any objections?" She rose to her knees, bracing her hands on the tub as she started to get out of the water.
"Hell, no." Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling devilishly as he took in her wet, naked body. She felt his approving gaze like warm lasers on her skin. Her nipples responded appropriately.
"Then afterward, I thought we'd get some food from the new place down the street. I've got a craving for Shepherd's Pie." Ginny stepped out of the tub, and released her hair from the clip so that it fell down around her shoulders.
"Anything you want." Harry climbed out of the tub, grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom, both of them dripping wet. "By the way, where'd you get the plant?"
* * *
It didn't make any sense. They had studied that play ad nauseum and had executed it to perfection in yesterday's practice. There was no way that any other team could possibly have figured it out, except that somehow the Appleby Arrows were one step ahead of them from the moment the play started. Already distracted by last evening’s romantic interlude with Harry (after which they had fallen asleep, too exhausted to even order dinner), Ginny had been so shocked to see the Arrows' Chaser Wendy Wanamaker sweep across from the right to intercept the Quaffle that she'd had to pull up short and make a sharp turn to avoid what could have been a nasty collision. She wound up nearly falling off her broom in the process. It had taken her several minutes to regain her faculties, and even then her performance had been 'off' for the remainder of the playing time. She'd nearly lost the Quaffle once and completely blanked on a play she'd performed at least fifty times before, which came close to costing the team a much-needed goal. The Harpies still managed to squeak out a win with Heather Gray's miraculous diving catch of the Snitch, but the failure of that seemingly foolproof play left them all baffled and frustrated.
"What the fuck happened? This was supposed to be an easy win!" Marion complained, as the team filed back into the changing room after the match. The only response was disgruntled grumbling and equipment being tossed heavily into lockers. Even Gwenog, usually a pillar of composure in the most stressful situations, was noticeably put out.
"I don't understand how they knew what we were going to do," Cory groused, flopping down on the bench with a resounding sigh.
"Gwenog, I thought you said this play had never been used before," whined Heather Gray, as she peeled off her shin guards and let them drop to the floor.
"It hasn't been used before! I've been playing professional Quidditch for eight years, and I think I would know if it had been used before, Gray!" Gwenog snapped, causing Heather's delicate features to crumple like a little girl's. The strawberry blond pixie turned away to wipe the startled tears out of her eyes. Gwenog sighed, and patted Heather's shoulder. "I'm sorry, it's no one's fault. I'm just as disappointed as the rest of you."
"Well someone must have snitched, intentional or otherwise; or planted an eavesdropping device," Marion said, her eyes flashing. "It's the only possible way Appleby could have known what we were doing." She cast an accusing glance around the room, and was met by stolid, angry expressions from her teammates.
"And how do we know it wasn’t you, Marion?" snapped Cory, rising to her feet with her fists clenched. She was a good head shorter than Marion, but was a very skilled witch more than capable of doing her bodily harm.
Then Gwenog stepped in, positioning herself between Marion and the rest of the team. "Hey! All of you just calm down. There's no need to start turning on each other. We're all upset and need to clear our heads. I'll evaluate the situation and figure out what happened. I'm sure there's some sort of logical explanation," she said, although she didn’t look entirely convinced. "Everyone hit the showers, and go home for some rest. We'll regroup on Tuesday at practice. I'll deal with the press," she added.
* * *
Harry was pacing the floor of the living room, open Auror robes streaming out dramatically behind him, when Ginny arrived home after the match. She was still reeling from the surprising turn of events, and was so preoccupied that it didn't even occur to her to be surprised to see him home in the middle of the afternoon.
"Are you okay?" he asked, as she flopped onto the sofa.
"I'm fine," she answered distractedly. She released her hair from the ponytail and rifled her fingers through it; she found it helped to clear her head when her thoughts were muddled. "I just don't understand how they knew what we were doing...it's like they were right there in the room with us when we reviewed the play, but there's no possible way they could...Harry, why are you looking at me like that?"
Harry had sat down next to her, his handsome brow creased with worry. The way his jaw was set told her that a speech of some sort was coming, and it occurred to her then that he must have either seen or heard about her near-mishap on the field. She started to speak, but the insistent look in his eyes quieted her.
"I think you should stop playing Quidditch," he said carefully.
"Harry, no. That's nonsense." Ginny started to get up, but Harry's hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her gently back down.
"No, it's not. You almost collided with that other player today. I know you can steer a broom with the best of them, but that was just too close for me, Ginny. If you'd pulled up even a second later..." Harry wrapped both of his hands around hers. He swallowed hard, seeing the flash of defensiveness in her face. "We could have lost the baby."
"But I didn't collide with her, and the baby is perfectly fine. I would never put myself in any position where I felt it would harm my child."
"But don't you see, not every situation is within your control. There's no way of knowing what could happen."
"So I'm supposed to just not do anything at all for the next seven months, because there's a small chance it could hurt the baby? I understand your concern, Harry. But it's unnecessary."
She could see the growing frustration in Harry's eyes, yet he still maintained his composure; yet another testament to the intensive Auror training program. "I never said that you shouldn't do anything at all. I just think that having both of your feet firmly on the ground, and reducing stressful activities for the next few months isn't a lot to ask."
"Quidditch isn't stressful to me. It's a release. It's an escape." Ginny leaned close to him, leafing her fingers through his hair. "Yes, today was a close call. But everything turned out all right. There are only four matches left. Then I swear both feet will stay firmly on the ground until this baby pops out of me in December. If you want, you can even take my broom away and hide it, to avoid any temptation." She kissed him, tugging on his lower lip with her teeth.
Harry released her hand and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close to his body. "That won't be necessary," he said gently, brushing his lips across her head. "Just please, please be careful up there." There was a tremor in his voice.
"I will. I promise."
* * *
"GINNY!! HARRY!! "
Ginny heard the voice calling her from the front room as she rolled over in bed the following morning. It sounded like Mum, and she sounded upset. She mumbled something about being downstairs in a minute, and then promptly settled back to sleep. Harry slid closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist to clasp against her belly. His leg curled over hers, while he nestled his lips into her neck.
"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY, YOU COME OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!"
Ginny bolted up like a shot. Her stomach lurched, and she felt momentarily dizzy. She hadn't heard Mum scream like that since the night she'd snuck out of the Burrow to sleep at Harry's flat over the holiday break during her last year at Hogwarts. That was a sound she'd never wanted to hear again. Although she'd come pretty close when Mum found out that she'd secretly moved in with Harry not long after joining the Harpies; even though Harry was like a son to her, Mum was still funny about her only daughter living with him while unmarried. It had taken a good deal of negotiation to calm her down.
"Bloody hell, it's seven-thirty!" Harry groused. "What in Merlin's name is going on?"
"I don't know, but I'm not waiting to find out." Ginny Summoned her robe from the chair, and threw it on over her skimpy nightshirt and knickers. She shot a look over her shoulder at the bleary-eyed and shirtless Harry, indicating that he was to join her. Grumbling, Harry pushed off the covers and Summoned his jeans and a t-shirt.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER, THIS MEANS YOU TOO!"
Filled with a sense of dread, Ginny and Harry stepped into the living room a minute later. Ginny groped for Harry's hand, squeezing it tightly as they made their way to the source of the screaming. Mum's head floated in their fireplace wearing an expression somewhere between shock and anger. The moment they entered her line of vision, her eyes locked on them accusingly. It made Ginny feel about three feet tall. Harry's hand felt sweaty inside of hers.
"M-morning, Mrs. Weasley," he offered. Mrs. Weasley shook her head, and clucked her tongue. Harry blanched and shrunk back, looking for a moment like the scrawny little boy he'd been when he first came to the Burrow. Ginny moved closer to him instinctively, as if to protect him.
Ginny cleared her throat. "Hello Mum," she offered, with a timid smile. "Wh-what's going on?"
"What's going on, you ask? Well, let's see. I got up this morning at seven o'clock to prepare breakfast for your father as I always do on Sunday mornings, and as usual picked up today's Daily Prophet from the back stoop..." She raised her eyebrows, as if to suggest that they should know what she was talking about. Harry and Ginny exchanged confused - and terrified - glances, and then looked back at the suspended head. Then Ginny relaxed, suddenly realizing what this had to be about. Mum always fussed about what she called the 'rough play' of Quidditch matches, and she'd undoubtedly heard about the incident on the pitch at yesterday's match.
"Hang on, is this about what happened at the match? Mum, I've told you I'm a grown woman and I can take care of -- "
"This has nothing to do with your match yesterday, Ginevra, although I do stand by what I said about Quidditch being a reckless sport. Now tell me: are you, or are you not, currently two months pregnant?" She shot a disparaging look in Harry's direction.
"Bloody hell!" Harry blurted reflexively, which essentially answered the question. Ginny nudged him in the side.
"Mum, I -- " Ginny's head was swirling. There was no possible way that anyone could have known about this. Even if someone had spotted her at the chemist they wouldn't have known the results of the test, or how far along she was. It made no sense. "I don't -- I never told anyone about this! How could they -- " She looked at Harry, whose face had gone from one of confused terror to one of barely suppressed anger. "Mum, I swear. We only just found out two days ago. Honestly, we haven't told anyone. We've hardly had time to even process the news yet. You can't possibly think we would have told the press before our own family! We would never do that."
This conversation was interrupted by a banging on the front door. Since the Floo was currently occupied, it could only be one person.
"Ron, please! It's seven-thirty, people are sleeping!"
"I don't care, Hermione - this is my sister and my best friend we're talking about. Harry, open the door!" The banging continued. "Open it before I blow it off its bloody hinges!"
"Oh sweet Merlin," Ginny sighed, heading for the door. "Keep your ruddy trousers on, Ron. I'm coming!" She had barely released the latch on the door before Ron came barrelling into the room with his wand raised. He was barefoot, in jeans and an old orange Cannons t-shirt that he had clearly just thrown on straight out of bed. His hair stuck up in all directions. Behind him was Hermione, who judging by her neat appearance had already been up for some time. She still held what Ginny assumed to be that morning's Prophet rolled up in her hand. She shot an apologetic look in Ginny's direction.
"I'm sorry, I tried to convince him it wasn't true, but he insisted on hearing it from you..." she trailed off when she saw Ginny's awkward expression. "Hang on, you mean...really?" Her eyes widened.
Ginny nodded. A tiny smile tugged at her mouth, despite the heated situation. "It's true; we're pregnant. Although we don't know how the Prophet found out. We only just got the news ourselves."
"Oh my goodness, Ginny!" Hermione shrieked. She dropped the newspaper on the floor and barrelled toward Ginny, throwing her arms around her neck. The sheer force of Hermione's enthusiasm nearly knocked Ginny off her feet.
Meanwhile, Ron made straight for Harry. "So it's true, then?"
Harry nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Yeah mate, it's true. But we didn't talk to the press, I swear." He left out the part about how they'd been planning to keep it secret for the next six weeks. His jaw set tightly as he continued, "Although I intend to find the bloody prick who did and -- "
"Harry!" Ginny cut him off, reminding him that her mum was still there with a jerk of her head.
"I'm sorry, but I don't care, Ginny. This is an invasion of our privacy and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Enough is enough." He looked at Ron. "Are you in?"
"You bet your arse I'm in."
"Excellent. Let's get down to the Ministry."
* * *
Once Harry and Ron left for the Ministry with fire in their eyes and her mum had been appeased enough to leave, Ginny and Hermione settled in at the kitchen table with the Daily Prophet. The headline screamed: "WEASLEY PREGNANT WITH POTTER PROGENY" with the byline "Harpies Chaser Due to Deliver In Time for Holidays." Underneath it was a publicity photo of a beaming Ginny standing with her broom; alongside that was Harry's official Ministry photo taken the day he passed Auror training, in which he looked vaguely constipated. The only reason there wasn't a picture of them as a couple was the result of a calculated plan by Harry and Ginny not to ever be in a position where they could be photographed together in public. The longer Ginny stared at the headline, the more aggravated she became. The name of the reporter was someone she'd never heard of, yet at the same time the name seemed familiar. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She'd almost half-expected the author to be Rita Skeeter: the sensational nature of the headline had her mark all over it.
"I just don't understand how this happened," she said again, as Hermione poured her a cup of tea and sat down opposite her. "This is just so not how we wanted this to go, Hermione. All we wanted was to enjoy the idea of becoming parents, and to share it with our family. That's it. But now the whole world knows. Harry's upset, and once he get something stuck in his head he won't let it go. Meanwhile I will probably get sacked from the Harpies with the four biggest matches of the season coming up. What a way to end a career, hey?" Tears of frustration stung her eyes, and she felt mildly nauseated.
Hermione reached over to put her hand on Ginny's. "I'm sorry," she said. "But I'm sure Harry will get to the bottom of it."
"Yes, I'm sure he will." Ginny sighed. "My stomach's feeling upset. Would you mind -- ?"
The words had hardly left her mouth before Hermione was on her feet, bustling around the kitchen. She sent two thick slices of bread into the toaster, while Summoning the strawberry jam and a pitcher of juice from the icebox. It was mildly comforting for Ginny to watch her sister-in-law take care of things. But she didn't get to enjoy it for long before a familiar gray owl landed on her windowsill bearing a note with the Harpies official seal on the envelope. Ginny's stomach dropped into her feet as she tugged the envelope from the bird's beak. Before she could ask, Hermione was there with a small handful of owl treats, which the bird took respectfully and began to nibble while perched on the edge of the table. The fact that the owl wasn't leaving told Ginny that the Harpies expected an immediate answer to the contents of their letter.
"Merlin's beard, I'm in for it now," she muttered, digging a nail under the wax seal. She tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter, scanning over the brief but terse missive. Her jaw clenched and unclenched as she read, and she felt tears of frustration burning behind her eyes. The whole situation felt unreal, as though it were happening to someone else.
"What is it?" Hermione asked. A small plate of toast landed smoothly on the table in front of Ginny, along with a nearly full glass of juice. But Ginny had lost her appetite.
"I'm suspended, effective immediately, pending an investigation. They want me to sign the bottom of the note to confirm I've received it." Ginny's voice sounded disembodied, and foreign. She felt rising tension in her chest. "They're not even waiting to hear my side of it. They don't care if it's true or not. Shoot first, ask questions later. Well, so much for standing up for your players. Bloody wankers."
Hermione sat down next to her, and put her hand on Ginny's wrist as it rested on the table. "Ginny, I'm so--"
But Ginny had pushed back her chair and jumped to her feet, her heart racing. The sudden movement jostled the table and sent some juice sloshing over the side of the glass. "No," she said firmly. "No, no, NO!" She crumpled the letter and hurled it across the room. With a quick flick of her wrist she Summoned her wand and the paper burst into flame in mid-air, disintegrating into ash on the floor. Hermione gasped, and the owl squawked indignantly. Turning on her heel, Ginny stalked in the direction of the bedroom to get dressed.
"Where are you going?" Hermione called after her.
"To set things right!" Ginny declared. "I don't know who's doing this, but they are NOT going to get away with it!"
* * *
Gwenog looked up in surprise when Ginny burst through the door of the captain's cramped office adjoining the locker room, out of breath and flushed. Her heart was racing in her chest.
“So that’s it, then?” Ginny demanded.
Gwenog rose slowly to her feet, gesturing to the solitary wooden chair across from her cluttered desk. “Ginny, I think you had better sit down,” she said in a measured tone.
Momentarily thrown by the fact that Gwenog had referred to her by her first name for the first time in three years, Ginny shot a glance at the chair and then looked back at her captain. “I’d rather stand,” she said. She felt the prickly heat of impending nausea pooling in her belly, and closed her eyes for a moment until it settled.
“Clearly you’re unwell. Please sit down,” Gwenog said, a little more insistently.
“I’m very well, thank you. Not that you care much either way,” Ginny retorted icily. Gwenog’s jaw set tightly, a gesture that normally sent tremors of fear through even the most stalwart players. But Ginny hardly noticed. “So after three years of teamwork, including one championship, one MVP award, and two All-Star team selections, you send a bloody owl to sack me without even giving me a chance to defend myself?”
“I would say the circumstances warranted decisive action.”
“Since when do you take the word of the press over your own players? You don’t even know if it’s true!”
“Well, is it true?” Gwenog’s eyes gravitated toward Ginny’s belly, and then back up again. Ginny didn’t answer, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. Gwenog cleared her throat. “All right, then. We also have reason to suspect you had some hand in the fiasco at the Appleby match yesterday.”
Ginny straightened her shoulders indignantly, as rage coursed through her. “Hang on, I’ve been loyal to the Harpies from Day One! I’ve wanted to play for this team since I was six years old. I would never do anything like that!”
“The fact that you played while pregnant, which is against regulations, is a good start. Not to mention that you kept your condition a secret from the team. That doesn’t exactly demonstrate team loyalty.”
“I only just found out about the pregnancy myself! I’ve barely had time to even process the news, and I have absolutely no idea how the press even caught wind of it since we hadn’t even told my family yet when the news broke. Plus there are only four matches left in the season, and I feel as fit as I ever have. I saw no reason to jeopardize the team’s chances by leaving with so little time left.”
“You may have done just that by violating the rules. We could be forced to forfeit our win against Appleby, which we need in order to have a legitimate shot at the championship.” Gwenog’s dark eyes flashed authoritatively. She rested both hands firmly on the edge of her desk and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Weasley, but the evidence seems to speak for itself. I have no choice but to recommend your immediate suspension - “
Suddenly the nagging suspicions that had been clanking around in Ginny’s head since her encounter with the little boy snapped into place. She realized then that she’d figured out the common denominator between the two incidents. “That’s it!” she blurted, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. “Thank Merlin!”
“Pardon, but what is ‘it’?” Gwenog sounded mildly irritated at being interrupted.
“It’s the plant!”
“The plant? What bloody plant?”
“The plant that the boy gave me the day we practiced the new play! It was in the room when we discussed the techniques, and when we decided at what point to use it during the match. Then I took it home with me, which was when I had that discussion with Harry after the match…of course! It must be hiding a listening device, or it has been enchanted with some kind of eavesdropping charm.”
Gwenog shook her head in confusion, and held up her hands to halt Ginny’s monologue. “Hang on, I don’t remember seeing a plant anywhere.”
“I’m sorry, Gwenog. I’ll explain it later, I promise. But I have to go.”
* * *
Ginny found Harry in his cubicle in the Auror offices, with Ron hovering nearby. She technically wasn’t supposed to be in there, since non-Ministry personnel needed a special security clearance that was nearly impossible to obtain, but the fact that she was engaged to one of the top Aurors in the program, and that her father was a high-ranking Ministry official had given her unspoken permission.
“Ginny, what are you doing in here?” Ron asked, glancing around as though he expected to get in trouble. The office continued its daily bustle without missing a beat; no one seemed to have noticed the unauthorized entrance.
“I’ve got it!” Ginny declared, ignoring her brother’s question.
“You’ve got what?” Harry asked. He immediately stood up and ushered her into his seat.
“I was in a meeting with Gwenog about my suspension when --”
“Hang on, you’ve been suspended?” Harry cut in, looking scandalized. He and Ron exchanged angry looks.
“Bloody hell, that’s rubbish!” Ron complained. “If anyone should be suspended it should be that reporter!”
Ginny squeezed Harry’s wrist reassuringly, and smiled at her brother. “It’s all right,” she said. “As I was saying before, I was meeting with Gwenog when I suddenly realized that there was one consistent thing about both the play being sabotaged, and my pregnancy news being leaked.” She waited a beat, but was met with only blank stares from her brother and her future husband.
“Which was...?” Ron prodded, after a long minute. He gestured with his hands to move the conversation along. “Bollocks, Ginny, we don’t have time for games here.”
“Oh honestly, Ron.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “It’s the plant! Don’t you see? All the trouble started when I brought that plant into the changing rooms before the last practice. Then when I brought it home, and we talked about the baby, suddenly everyone knew we were pregnant.” She looked at Harry. “It has to be bewitched somehow.”
“That makes sense,” Harry put in. “I’ll have to run a spell detection on it to see what’s there. Now the question is, who would have done it?”
“Well we can start by looking into the reporters at the Prophet to see if any familiar names pop up,” Ron suggested. “I’ll put a request in to have a personnel list provided to us, and I’ll have it sent to you as soon as it’s ready, Harry.”
“Thanks, Ron.” Harry patted his best friend’s shoulder, and Ron took his leave.
“That was quite brilliant you know, figuring it out about the plant,” Harry put in, as he helped Ginny out of the chair. “Perhaps you missed your calling.”
Ginny smiled, and kissed his chin. “I learn from the best,” she said. Harry’s face flushed, as it always did whenever she kissed him in public. But instead of withdrawing, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her closer. She was just about to lean in for another kiss when she felt the familiar tug in her belly that indicated she was being side-Apparated. Moments later they landed in their living room. She wavered on her feet for a moment as her stomach settled.
Harry quickly helped her onto the sofa. “Are you all right? Bollocks, I shouldn’t have done that without preparing you first,” he said worriedly, sitting beside her and taking her hands. “Do you need anything, luv? Want to lie down?”
“No, I’m fine. It’s all right.” She smiled weakly, although her stomach was still undecided. She rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her. “You know, I really don’t think I’m going to mind keeping my feet on the ground for awhile after all.”
Harry pressed his lips into her hair, while his hand rested on her belly. She put her hand over his, squeezing it. “This is nice,” Harry said quietly.
“Very,” she answered with a soft smile, as images of the beautiful red-haired, green-eyed baby appeared again. A feeling of contentment settled over her.
Then only moments later there was a tapping at the window. Harry broke away reluctantly to answer it, and came back with a scroll sealed with Ministry wax. “So here’s the listing of all the reporting staff at the Daily Prophet.” He unrolled the official parchment, upon which was a list of names. “Do any of these names seem even remotely familiar?”
Ginny took the parchment, while Harry brought the plant over from the kitchen table and set it down on the coffee table. Picking up his wand, he began to wave it slowly in a circular motion around the plant, murmuring indecipherable words under his breath. Within seconds, a neon blue light emanated from the purple flowers.
“It’s a listening charm, and quite a difficult one, at that. Whoever performed it has made it extremely difficult to track where it was originally done. It could take days to figure it out, and even then it might not give us a lead.” He frowned, his brow furrowed. “I’d like to disable it, but then if we do we risk not being able to trace it at all.” With another flick of his wand, the blue light dissipated. Then he got up again, carried the plant into the kitchen, and returned with two bottles of Butterbeer and some crackers, which Ginny took gratefully.
“Don’t want to be overheard,” he explained. “In case we come up with something, I’d rather the person on the other end not know about it.” He popped open the top of his bottle and took a long swallow of the golden liquid.
Meanwhile, as she munched on the crackers, Ginny noticed one name on the list that stood out to her: Millie Mumford. “That has to be it,” she said, handing the parchment to Harry. “It’s the same last name as the boy who gave me the plant. The only trouble is I don’t know anyone called Mumford…unless…” she straightened her back. The wheels turned in her head as she went back through her memories, extracting one particular name. The idea seemed like a long shot, but then again it also made sense.
“Unless, what?”
“Unless it has nothing to do with the Prophet looking for a scoop, and everything to do with someone from our past; you know, someone who might have a score to settle.”
Harry arched his eyebrows in confusion. “You mean, like Malfoy?”
“Kind of, but this sort of tactic isn’t Malfoy’s style. It’s a bit too complicated for him. He would be more direct and up front. If he had something to say to you or to me, he’d just come out with it. Besides, these days he’s got his hands full running the family business, and he really has no interest in us as a couple. His grudge was always with you specifically. I was mostly an afterthought.”
“And you were clearly the primary target of this plan,” Harry put in with thinly veiled contempt.
“Right. Someone really wanted to see my career go up in smoke.”
“Well then, who else could it be other than Malfoy?”
“Come on, Harry, you’re an Auror; I’m sure you can think of someone from our past who might want to muck things up for us?” She paused, nudging him in the side. “Millie. Short for...”
Harry’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Hang on, you don’t mean Romilda Vane?”
“She was pretty stuck on you at Hogwarts. She also didn’t take it very well when her tainted chocolates failed and you rejected her in my favor. Not to mention I hear she was very talented at performing complex charms.”
“Sure, but that was Hogwarts. She couldn’t possibly still be hung up on an old crush after nearly five years?”
Ginny leaned closer to him, gently kissing his ear while sliding one hand between his thighs. “Can you blame her?” she whispered. Harry’s skin immediately flushed red, and Ginny smiled.
“Oh bugger off,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. But she caught a twitch at the corners of his mouth. “Although I suppose we could check into her background and see if she’s been married since the war, or changed her name for some other reason. I’ll get on it right now -“ Harry started to get up, but Ginny yanked him back down and threw her leg across his lap, straddling him.
“Let Ron do it,” she said quietly, raking her fingers slowly through his hair. She rolled her hips forward along his thighs, and within seconds she was rewarded by a noticeable bulge in his crotch. “I’d like some alone time with you.”
Harry’s arms came around her waist, his hands settling in the small of her back. “What about that upset stomach?”
Framing his face in her hands, she caught his mouth in a long, deep kiss. She slid her tongue into his mouth, eliciting a low growl from his throat. For several minutes they did nothing else. Harry’s hands moved up under her shirt, stroking her bare back. Her nipples tightened expectantly, while her hands dropped between their bodies, to his waist. She started to work the belt buckle. Breaking the kiss, she looked into his face with his slightly swollen lips and the dazed post-kiss expression.
“Something about pregnancy makes you even more irresistible, Potter. And you know how important it is to indulge a pregnant witch her cravings.” Ginny arched a brow suggestively.
Harry grinned. “Indeed,” he said. Then he took her hands away from his belt, raising them to his lips. He kissed her fingers. “Let me send an owl to the Ministry to open up a background check on Romilda, aka ‘Millie Mumford’, and then I’ll meet you in there.” He cocked his head toward the bedroom.
“Don’t be too long.” Ginny traced the tip of her finger along the curve of his jaw.
“I wouldn’t worry about that. And by the way, you really did miss your calling, luv. You’d make an amazing Auror.”
“Perhaps, but right now, though, I think I’ll just focus on being an amazing mum.” Ginny smiled, her heart fluttering at the thought. Then she felt a sudden twinge of anxiety, as if the magnitude of what was happening had only just hit her. “You do think I’ll be good at it -- I mean, the whole mothering thing?”
“Absolutely,” Harry said confidently. He pulled her close again. “No question in my mind, you’ll be a brilliant mother.”
“I hope so,” Ginny murmured, nestling her head in his shoulder.
* * *
Epilogue:
After the war, Romilda Vane dropped her surname and changed it to Mumford, in honor of her mother who was a casualty of the war. Her father had passed away when she was a very young child. She moved in with her widower uncle, and became a ‘big sister’ to her younger cousins; Gavin was her favorite, and a huge Quidditch fan, so he was easily talked into doing his cousin a big “favor” by presenting her "friend", Ginny Weasley, with the enchanted plant in exchange for more Famous Wizard’s Cards. Used to getting what she wanted, Romilda, aka “Millie”, never got over her failed attempts to seduce Harry Potter at Hogwarts, and even though she was sacked from her position at the Prophet as a result of her plot - and was also subsequently banned from attending any professional Quidditch matches for a year - she refused to give up hope of someday winning Harry’s heart.