HP Fic: A Comedy of Errors (WIP) - Part I
Title: A Comedy of Errors (WIP)
Part I
Rating: Young Teens
Words: 5,579
Summary: Written for the 2004-05 Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley Ficafest on LiveJournal. Challenge: Harry and Ginny are trying to keep something a secret, but everyone they meet knows that *something* is up. When will they come clean, and how many rumours will be doing the rounds by then?
Sunday evening
"So when should we tell?" Harry asked eagerly.
Ginny frowned, thinking. She wanted desperately to carol the news of their upcoming wedding from the rooftops, but something was making her hold back. "How about Saturday, when we all go to Mum and Dad's for dinner?" she suggested.
"That's a whole week!" Harry protested.
"I know. But don't you think everyone should be told at the same time? That way we don't forget anyone, and nobody gets upset because they weren't told first." She rolled her eyes expressively, and Harry chuckled in appreciation. "So, Saturday, then?" she pressed.
He sighed and raised her hand to his lips, gently kissing her fingers. "All right. But I just know I'm never going to be able to restrain myself when we go out in public!" he said. "The temptation to tell will just be far too great." He mimicked greeting someone in a shop. "'Well, hello there, Seamus. Haven't seen you in months! By the way, did you know Ginny and I are engaged?'"
Ginny grinned saucily. A wonderful idea for mischief had just occurred to her. "Then maybe we shouldn't go out together between now and then," she said.
Harry blinked. "I-what?" he asked, clearly caught off guard.
"In fact," she continued blithely, "maybe we should go back to sleeping in our own beds for awhile."
The gob-smacked expression on his face nearly made her chortle. I do so love taking the mickey out of him.
"But-" Harry said faintly, eyes wide, jaw open. "But-we-I mean-"
"After all, we don't want to risk the news getting out early, do we?" she asked sweetly, doing her best to hide the mischievous twinkle in her eyes behind wide-eyed (and well-feigned) innocence.
"Well-no-" he floundered, "but, Ginny-"
"I'll see you at work tomorrow, then, love," she said brightly, kissed him on the cheek, and Apparated back to the flat she shared with Hermione. There she collapsed onto the sofa in gales of laughter at the look on Harry's face. Even the sure knowledge that he'd get her back the next day didn't dampen her spirits-in fact, she was rather looking forward to it.
Finally the laughter subsided and she sat up, fumbling for her handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face and blow her nose. Except for nights when one or the other of them was on assignment, she hadn't slept alone in months; assuming they spent the whole week apart, it would be a long, cold, lonely set of nights-but finally telling the family that they were engaged would be more than worth it.
She was in the midst of wiping her eyes when Hermione Apparated in, a blissful smile on her face. Clearly, she and Ron had been out somewhere. The smile faded into a startled expression when she saw her flat-mate. "Ginny!" she said in surprise. "I didn't expect you home. Where's Harry?"
"He's back at his flat."
"Oh." Hermione gave Ginny a strange look. "So you're going back there tonight?"
"No, I'm staying here tonight," Ginny said, stifling a yawn. She hadn't realised how tired she was. It had been a busy weekend, not even counting Harry's proposal last night, and she had to be at work in the morning. I hate Mondays. Although… this Monday, I get to begin a week's prank war with Harry, so there's at least something to look forward to. She grinned.
"Well, then, when's Harry coming over?" Hermione glanced at the corner they used for an Apparition point, as though expecting him to appear.
"He's not, Hermione," Ginny said patiently. "We're taking a bit of a break from each other for a week or so."
"A break?" Hermione stared, open-mouthed. "What's happened? What's wrong?"
Oh, Merlin, now I've panicked her. "Nothing," Ginny said, trying to be reassuring. "Just a bit of a break. We've been down each others' throats for months, after all; we just need a bit of space. Don't fret, Hermione; I'll see him tomorrow at work." She stretched, yawning. "Speaking of which, the alarm sounds too bloody early in the morning. I think I'd best get off to bed. Good night."
She rose and, with a quick smile for her flat-mate, headed for her bedroom. Her head was full of all the mischief she could pull on Harry this week. Perhaps I could go to work without knickers, she thought as she pulled her robes off over her head and tossed them toward the laundry basket. Or wear those heeled boots he likes so well. Maybe a shopping trip to the back rooms of Madam Malkin's?
She shrugged into a nightgown and slipped between the covers, chuckling quietly to herself. I wonder what Harry's planning in retaliation, she thought as she blew out the candle and settled onto her side, one arm beneath her head. She chuckled again. Whatever it is, it'll be a laugh finding out. It's a good job we fell in love, because he'd be wasted on any family but the Weasleys!
***
Hermione watched, dumbfounded, as Ginny made her way back to the bedroom. She couldn't believe what she'd just seen-what she'd just heard! Quickly, she turned to the fireplace, knelt in front of it, and threw a pinch of Floo Powder in, hissing, "Ron Weasley!"
There was the disorienting sensation of her head leaving her shoulders, then she was looking at the kitchen of Ron and Harry's flat. Ron, shirtless and barefoot, was bending down to see who it was. "Hello, love!" he said, surprised. "You didn't change your mind about coming over, did you? You sounded so emphat-"
"Ron," Hermione interrupted, "is Harry home?"
Ron blinked. "Well, yeah," he said. "Just went off to bed, muttering. I was a bit surprised that Ginny wasn't here, but I suppose she's been assigned somewhere."
"She hasn't," Hermione told him. "She's staying here tonight."
"She is?" He looked flabbergasted. "But-well, that's odd, isn't it?"
"It's more than odd." She shifted to try to ease the ache in her knees. "Ron, I think they've had a row."
He waved his hand dismissively. "They're always rowing over something or other. You know Ginny's temper. They'll be fine." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Now, if you'd like to re-think that cold, lonely bed, Miss Granger-" he began.
"I don't think they will be fine," Hermione pressed. "I think there's something really serious going on! When I came home, Ginny looked like she'd been crying."
"Crying?" Ron repeated. "Oh, come on, Hermione. Ginny hardly ever cries."
"Well, she was crying tonight," Hermione insisted. "And she told me that she and Harry were taking a break from each other."
Finally, he looked as though he were taking her seriously. "A break from each other?"
"That's what she said," Hermione confirmed. "And she'd definitely been crying. Her cheeks were damp, her face was blotchy, her eyes were red, and she was sniffling."
Ron considered for a moment. "I think you'd better come on over, 'Mione. To talk," he clarified, as she glowered at him. "Harry was muttering something about 'damned women' and 'payback' when he went to bed. I think we'd better compare notes. Maybe we can help them fix things."
Hermione sighed, both with concern for her friends and relief that she'd be getting off her knees-the brick hearth hurt. "I'm on my way."
***
Monday morning
As Harry dressed the next morning, he considered the situation. He knew full well that Ginny was teasing him, and knew, too, that she expected him to try to take revenge. The only question was, how? In the normal way of things, he might have been tempted to consult Fred and George, but that was clearly impossible in this case; they'd ask why, and he'd promised not to tell anyone about their engagement yet.
"Think, Potter," he muttered as he pulled his Auror's robes over his head and settled them across his shoulders. He and Ginny had had prank wars before, many times, in fact. The fact that Ginny usually won wasn't the point; it was a way of working off some of the stress that their jobs-even now, five years after Voldemort's defeat-caused. So he had to do something. But what?
He walked back into the bathroom, hung up his damp towel, and reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste. Why is it, he thought as he squeezed toothpaste onto the bristles and ran the brush under the tap, that I can defeat a Dark Wizard before I'm eighteen, go through three years of Auror training, and spend two years in the field, but I can't work out how to prank my fiancée, whom I've known for ten years? I can't just do nothing.
He stopped, toothbrush halfway to his mouth, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. Why can't I? he thought, staring at his startled reflection. If she's expecting me to get back at her, wouldn't it do just that if I don't react?
"Are you going to clean your teeth or just stare at your pretty face?" the mirror said testily. He startled, then proceeded, still thinking.
Maybe I should just...act as though she were another employee, not particularly special at all. Friendly, but nothing more. He grinned at the thought. While they were careful to remain professional if they were on a mission, if they were in the office, they'd often indulge in passing caresses or other displays of affection-and always, always ate lunch together. More than once, Ron had suggested the Ministry put alarms on cupboard doors, in case the two of them decided to 'find some time alone,' as he'd put it. For Harry to treat her as a common or garden acquaintance would make her wild.
Satisfied, Harry spat, rinsed, and ran a comb through his thick hair. Today would certainly be interesting.
***
When Ginny arrived at work, she was prepared for almost anything, or so she thought. To her surprise, when she reached her desk, nothing jumped, squeaked, exploded, snarled, yelled, or did anything else; everything was precisely as she'd left it. Tania Greensward, who worked at the next desk over, didn't mention any notes or visitors. She sighed and sat down to begin work. It looked as though it would be a perfectly ordinary day.
The very ordinariness of it absorbed her attention. Once she got involved in her work-there was a huge pile of parchment in her in-box that required her focus-she was almost able to forget about anything unusual going on with Harry. That was, she could until she looked up, saw that it was nearly ten o'clock, and realised she hadn't seen Harry all day.
Sudden worry seized her-had he fallen ill? Had he been called suddenly on assignment? But surely he'd have sent a memo or a note of some kind-?
Picking up her cup, she left on the pretext of getting more tea, and headed down the corridor and to the right, where Harry and Ron's desks were. She relaxed slightly; he sat there, brow furrowed in concentration, reading a report and taking notes on a piece of parchment. Both relieved and a little irritated that he hadn't even said hello to her yet, she went up to him.
He looked up, and a friendly-friendly?-smile spread across his face. "Hi, Ginny," he said pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"
She noticed Ron, whose desk was directly behind Harry's, look up suddenly and frown, but she ignored him. "I just realised I hadn't seen you all day," she said, trying hard not to make the statement into a question.
"Oh." He shrugged and sat back, tossing his quill casually to the desk and stretching. "My in-box was piled nearly a foot high, and I've barely been able to make a dent in it. I hate paper days; I'd much rather be out in the field." He smiled again, but it wasn't the slow, warm, sensual smile he usually gave her; it was bright and cheerful, the kind of smile he might give an acquaintance he'd talked to three or four times at most. If she hadn't seen the sparkle of mischief in his eye, she might have been fooled.
So that's the plan, is it? "Yes, mine's overflowing as well," she said off-handedly, but she knew the glint of triumph she saw in his green eyes meant he'd noticed her momentary confusion. "But must be done, right?" She turned to Ron as though he'd been the real reason for her visit, and she'd only said hello to Harry because it would have been impolite to completely ignore him. "Hey, Ron," she said, "want to go to lunch with me?"
Ron blinked, looking between the two of them before saying, "Ah, no, thanks, Ginny-Hermione and me are going out. There's a restaurant she wants to take me to." His ears flushed a bit.
"Okay," she said as if it didn't matter at all (which it didn't). "See you, Harry."
"See you," he said, already bent over his report again.
She walked away, feeling rather satisfied. So that's his game, she thought. Pretending I don't exist. Well, two can play that one; let's see how well he enjoys being just as ignored as he's doing to me.
***
Monday noon
Ginny left her desk a little early and ensconced herself in a corner of the cafeteria, preparing to completely ignore him when he came in. The problem was that he wasn't coming in. She'd been there fifteen minutes already, and he wasn't anywhere in sight.
She sighed, playing with the crusts of her ham-and-cheese sandwich. "Botheration," she muttered. She hated to admit it, but he was one up on her; she was seriously considering being worried that perhaps she really had irritated him somehow.
No, I couldn't've. He'd have said something. Wouldn't he?
"Hi, Ginny!" a familiar voice said. She glanced up to see Hannah Abbott, who worked as a secretary in the Magical Law Enforcement offices. "May I join you?"
"Certainly," Ginny said, forcing a smile. It wasn't doing her the least bit of good to obsess over this. A bit of companionship might help.
"So, where's Harry?" Hannah asked, seating herself across from Ginny and pulling a salad out of her lunch bag.
"No idea," Ginny said, shrugging with partly-feigned unconcern. "Perhaps he's eating at his desk."
Hannah frowned, spearing a chunk of tomato. "But I thought you two always ate together."
"Not today." Ginny glanced up and felt a stab of-excitement? Nerves?-as she spotted a head of messy black hair amongst the group of men in Auror robes who'd just come in, talking and laughing. She watched as they sat at a table on the far side of the room, Harry with his back to her. Despite herself, a spasm of honest concern shot through her. Maybe she had truly upset him last night. "He's over there, actually," she said with artificial casualness, nodding toward the side of the room. "Just came in."
Hannah looked over, then back to Ginny, mouth agape. "What's the matter?" she asked, concerned. "Have you two quarrelled?"
"No," Ginny said, nettled because she was beginning to wonder if perhaps they had, and she just hadn't realised.
"Well, he's clear over there-"
"We're not joined at the hip, you know, Hannah," Ginny snapped.
Hannah blinked. "Well, of course not-I just thought-"
Ginny sighed and cradled her head in her hands. "I'm sorry. I have a headache," she lied. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"Oh, that's all right, Ginny," Hannah said sympathetically. "Finish your sandwich; maybe you'll feel better."
Ginny shook her head and stood, picking up the remnants of her lunch. "No, I think I'll just go on back to my desk. I've got some headache potion there." She smiled, a little forced, and said, "I'll see you later, Hannah."
"Bye," Hannah said, her expression still concerned.
Ginny tossed her sandwich wrapper into the bin and left without a backward glance. She could feel Hannah's eyes on her, but refused to turn and acknowledge it. Maybe I should Floo Harry tonight and see if he's really upset, she thought as she headed back toward her desk. Just to be sure.
But when she reached her desk, she found a memo fluttering agitatedly, waiting for her. Her heart leapt when she saw Harry's handwriting, and she ripped it open hastily.
So, Weasley. Ready to concede? I've a bottle of wine at my flat, and I'm sure Ron wouldn't mind being gone for a night. The bed's awfully empty and cold without you.
Ginny laughed as relief flooded through her. He wasn't angry-he was just playing the game. In the empty space beneath what he'd written, she scribbled her own note.
Not a chance, Potter. Though I might be willing if you begged; the ability to do that is a fine quality in a husband.
She sent it to his desk with a flick of her wand, and sat back down in a much better mood for the afternoon's paperwork.
***
Hannah watched Ginny go, concern marring her features. That wasn't like Harry and Ginny, not at all. Something was definitely awry.
A tray clattered to the table next to her, and she jumped, startled. "Oh," Neville said, blushing. "Sorry. Slipped out of my hand. Can I-?" He gestured toward the chair Ginny had vacated, and Hannah nodded somewhat absently. He sat. "Is something wrong?" he asked, picking up his knife and fork and cutting into his steak-and-kidney pie.
Hannah nodded soberly, turning back to him. "I think there might be," she said. She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "You and Susan saw each other for a long time before you got married. You used to row, right?"
"Well, some," Neville admitted. He rubbed his ring self-consciously; he and Susan had only been married a few months.
"Did you ever stop speaking to each other?"
Neville winced. "A couple of times she stopped speaking to me," he said. "Never lasted very long, though. Susan's got a quick temper, but she cools off fast, too." He took a bite.
Hanna leaned back, chewing her lip. "But Ginny doesn't," she said quietly.
"Ginny Weasley?" Neville laughed. "Her temper's worse than the rest of her family put together, when she gets worked up." His eyes widened as he seemed to put two and two together. "Merlin-you don't think she and Harry have been quarrelling, do you?"
Hannah nodded again. "She and Harry barely looked at each other at lunch, when they're usually inseparable. And she certainly seemed upset about something."
"Maybe it'll blow over," Neville said hopefully. "After all, once Ginny gets over her mad, she doesn't hold a grudge."
"Yes, but what about Harry?"
"I can't imagine anything that would make Harry that mad at Ginny," Neville protested. "Unless-" He stopped, pressing his lips together.
"Unless what?" Hannah asked, curious. She'd never known Harry well, but Neville had lived in the same dormitory for seven years; he had to have better insight than she.
"Well," Neville said reluctantly, "Harry's lost a lot in his life, hasn't he? Been betrayed by a lot of people."
Hannah's jaw dropped. "You think Ginny betrayed him?" she whispered incredulously. "Cheated on him, you mean?"
"I didn't say that!" Neville said quickly. "Ginny would never do something like that! I'm just saying that's the only thing Harry could find unforgivable: betrayal, of whatever sort." He took another bite, chewed, swallowed. "But Ginny would never, never do that," he said positively.
Sighing, Hannah stabbed a bit of now-wilting lettuce. "I hope you're right," she said morosely.
***
"So?" Hermione said impatiently as Ron, who had Transfigured his robes into Muggle jeans and a sweatshirt, slid into the booth across from her. "What did you find out?"
"Well, he's not being very forthcoming," Ron said. "Hardly mentioned Ginny at all." The waiter appeared at his elbow and he looked up. "Oh! Erm, a pint of bitter for me. Hermione?"
"Ron, it's the middle of the work day!" she hissed, scandalised.
"One pint of bitter won't do any harm," he said, rolling his eyes. "Just order your drink."
"Water, please," she said primly. The waiter nodded confirmation, caught Ron's eye and gave him a sympathetic wink, then left to get the drinks. Ron grinned. Muggles could be good blokes, when it came down to it.
"What'll you have for lunch?" he asked, opening the menu. "Bangers and mash sounds good."
"Ron," she said through clenched teeth. "Tell me about Harry."
"Oh, yeah." He hid another grin; despite his worry over Harry and Ginny, he did so love to get Hermione riled up. "Well, like I said, he didn't say much to me, but he never went to see her this morning. Never left his desk except to go to the loo."
"Maybe he saw her on the way," she suggested.
"Couldn't've. The door's within sight of our desks. Ah!" The waiter had come with their drinks. "Cheers, mate," he said, taking a sip and licking the foam from his upper lip.
"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked, taking out his notebook and pen.
"I'll have a salad," Hermione said, pushing the menu toward the edge of the table.
"And you, sir?" the waiter asked.
"Bangers and mash."
"Right." He pocketed his pad and took their menus. "Thank you." He disappeared into the kitchen through a swinging door, leaving them alone again.
"So," Hermione said, resuming her questioning, "they didn't see each other at all?"
"Ginny came by about mid-morning," he said, taking another drink. "Asked me if I wanted to go to lunch. She and Harry said about a dozen words to each other, and they sounded like casual acquaintances at best." He remembered the shallow, light conversation with a pang; it had sounded as though the two of them barely knew each other at all.
"That's not good," Hermione said worriedly.
"No, it's not. He was still at his desk when I left to meet you; I don't know whether he went to lunch at all."
Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. "We've got to do something, Ron. If it's just a lover's squabble, maybe we could help them patch it up. We can't let them go on like this; they'll be miserable without each other."
"I know," Ron sighed, leaning back. "But what can we do?"
"I don't know," Hermione replied, picking up her napkin and laying it daintily on her lap as the food arrived. "But I intend to think of something."
***
Monday evening
Harry arrived back at his flat after work tired, but pleased. Ginny's response, while not what he might have wished for, had been precisely in character for her. She wants me to beg, does she? he thought, going into his bedroom to change from his uniform to a pair of Muggle sweats and a tee-shirt. He gave a short laugh. Wonder how she's planning to arrange that.
His brain immediately presented him with an image of just how she might, and he groaned as his lower belly tightened. Damn, damn, damn. That woman's going to be the death of me, and she's not even here!
Sighing, he went into the kitchen to see what he could fix for dinner; it was his night to cook. A pop sounded in the dining area, which they never used except as an Apparition point, and Ron appeared. "How'd you get home so fast?" he demanded.
"I didn't stop to have a chat with half the blokes in the office," Harry said mildly. He opened the refrigerator door-charmed mirror notwithstanding, it was a purely Muggle flat, and so was wired for electricity, much to his future father-in-law's delight. "Let's see-we've got some ground beef and some potatoes; with a few vegetables, I could make shepherd's pie."
"Harry," Ron said, and Harry immediately turned to look at his friend. That was Ron's I-really-don't-want-to-mention-this-but-I-guess-I-have-to voice. "What's going on with you and Ginny?"
"We're going out, Ron," Harry said patiently. "Have been for awhile. Having sex, too," he added as an afterthought, purely to make his best mate shudder.
Ron shuddered. "That's not what I mean. I meant recently. Last night and today."
"Nothing's going on," Harry said as innocently as he could, pulling out the sack of potatoes from the cupboard and setting them to be peeled and chopped with a wave of his wand. "Why?"
Ron coloured, but said, "You slept alone last night."
"So did you," Harry pointed out.
"And you barely talked to Ginny today."
"We talked!" Harry protested. "We were just busy. That raid on Borgin and Burke's last Saturday produced more paperwork-"
"I know," Ron groaned, running his hands through his hair. "But you're both acting oddly, and I'm worried."
Harry sighed. "Look, Ron," he said. "There's nothing wrong. I just... I promised not to say anything until the dinner at the Burrow, okay? Ginny and I are not having troubles. Well, not many," he amended, thinking of the trouble she was likely to get him into this week. "It's good news, don't worry; we just wanted to tell everyone all at once. All right?"
Ron stared at him. "Good news?" he repeated.
"Yes." Oh, hell, Harry thought, I can't just leave him in the dark like this. "Without giving too much away," he added, "let's just say that there'll be a new member of the Weasley family soon." He Banished the peeled, chopped potatoes to a pan and added water from the tap, then put the pan on the cooker to boil. "I fancy a bit of a walk," he said. "I'll go get the vegetables. Just keep an eye on the potatoes. Make sure they don't boil over or get overdone, all right? I'd like to be able to eat tonight." He turned to look at Ron, frowning at the flabbergasted expression on his best mate's face. "Hey," he said. "You all right?"
Ron shook himself, as though to bring himself out of his stupor. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go on and do the shopping; I'll keep an eye on things."
Harry frowned, looking carefully at Ron, but he did seem to be all right now. Must not have realised things were serious enough for me to propose, he thought, smugly pleased at the way he'd told Ron without betraying his promise to Ginny. "All right," he said. He slipped his feet into his trainers and grabbed a jacket off the coat tree in the entryway, sliding the wallet that held his Muggle money into his pocket. "I'll be right back," he said, and headed out the door toward the shops down the hill. And maybe I can find something for Ginny.
***
As soon as the door had shut behind Harry, Ron went straight for the Floo and called Hermione. "Is Ginny home yet?" he asked.
"She's in the shower. Why?"
"I think it's not a break-up, Hermione." Ron swallowed. "I think Ginny's pregnant." He told her what Harry had said about a new member of the family. "It seems pretty clear, doesn't it?" he finished, half-hoping she'd find some reason to disagree with him.
Hermione rubbed her face with a hand. "I hate to say it, Ron-I'd've thought they'd have been more careful!-but I'm afraid you must be right. I can't imagine what else he could have meant by that." She glanced over her shoulder, then back to Ron. "The shower's just turned off; she'll be out shortly. You said they're planning to tell everyone on Saturday?"
"That's right," Ron said. His heart felt as though it had sunk right down to his boots.
She sighed. "Well, unless you want to break a confidence, we're going to have to keep this quiet until then," she said resignedly. "You can't go about telling people without letting Ginny know that Harry told."
Ron cocked his head; an idea had just struck him. "I can't," he said. "But what if you got Ginny to confide in you?"
Hermione blinked. "I couldn't tell anyone either," she protested.
"You could tell me, since I already know," he pointed out. "And then at least we'd be prepared. We wouldn't be sitting round wondering and worrying."
"What about everyone else?" she asked, frowning. "Won't they be worried?"
"Why would they be? None of them know anything's amiss. Come on, Hermione, I'm going to be driven berserk if I don't know what's going on. And so will you," he added shrewdly. "Just see if you can get her to talk to you. You're her best friend; surely she'd confide in you if she confides in anyone."
"Well… maybe," she said dubiously. There was a sound behind her, and she glanced around again. "She's out. I'd better go."
The fire went dark, and Ron rose to his feet, wincing at the ache in his knees. He'd better check on the potatoes; if Harry had to start all over by the time he got home from the shops, he'd be hell to live with, and Ron resolved to stay on Harry's good side. Maybe he could get some more information that way.
***
Neville Apparated into his home at precisely six-thirty, as usual. Also as usual, Susan had already begun making dinner; her work day was finished half an hour before his, and she liked to have dinner begun by the time he got home. He reckoned Gran would have something to say about it if she knew (probably something like 'Susan, dear, you don't have to be his servant! He knows perfectly well how to fend for himself, after all'), but as she didn't know, all was well with his world.
Well, mostly. Hannah's revelations about Ginny and Harry were still bothering him. He couldn't imagine Ginny cheating on Harry-or Harry cheating on Ginny, either. It just wasn't like either of them. Something was very, very wrong.
"Hallo, love," Susan said placidly as she used a fork to turn the chops in the pan. "Dinner will be ready shortly; why don't you hang up your cloak and change out of those robes?" She smiled up at him, but when she caught sight of his face, her smile faded. "What's the matter, Neville? Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure," he prevaricated. She frowned, as if unsure what he meant, and he sighed. "Let me do as you suggested, and I'll tell you over dinner."
"All right," she said, but she still looked concerned. "It's nothing serious, is it, dear?"
"Nothing life-threatening," he reassured her. "I'll be right back, and then I promise to tell you all about it."
He hung his cloak in the downstairs wardrobe and ran upstairs to shed his work robes. He came downstairs in a rather shabby set of robes that he loved; they were comfortable for sitting round the house or for working in his garden or greenhouse, even if they were no longer suitable to be worn outside. When he returned downstairs, he found that Susan had set the table and was waiting for him, so he sat and began filling his plate.
"So," she said as he handed her the bowl of peas, "tell me what's going on. It must be something to get you in such a dither."
He sighed, lifting a chop with his fork and putting it on his plate, then reaching for the bowl of mashed potato. "Something's… gone wrong with Harry and Ginny," he said finally.
"Gone wrong?" Susan looked at him with concern. "What do you mean?"
He sighed, scooping up a bit of potato on his fork, then putting it down again, untasted. "I don't know exactly what's wrong, but they didn't eat together today-didn't even look at each other, so far as I could tell-and Hannah seems to think there's something more going on than meets the eye. She was talking to Ginny at lunch before I got there."
"Oh, Neville," Susan said affectionately. "They've been going out for some time now; they don't have to be with each other all the time. I'm sure that's all it was."
"Hannah didn't seem to think so," Neville said doubtfully.
"Well, think logically. What on earth could break Harry and Ginny apart when they've been so close for so long?"
"I have thought," Neville said quietly. "There's only one thing that could, and neither of them would ever do it. They'd never cheat-neither of them."
"Exactly," Susan said firmly. "And has there been any evidence that they have done, against all probability? Any sightings of either of them with someone else? Or someone hearing them row?"
"Not to my knowledge," Neville said, his heart beginning to lighten.
"Exactly. So why worry? It may be some minor quarrel; it may be nothing at all." Susan smiled, and Neville felt again how fortunate he was to have won her heart. "Keep your eyes open if you wish, darling, but don't see things that aren't there. Surely you have enough to worry you without borrowing trouble for our friends as well!"
"You're right, of course, my love," Neville said. He'd been foolish to jump to conclusions. Susan was so good for him; she was always able to clear his mind. He took a bite, feeling much better. Of course Harry and Ginny were all right. But maybe he should keep an eye out, just in case.
Part I
Rating: Young Teens
Words: 5,579
Summary: Written for the 2004-05 Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley Ficafest on LiveJournal. Challenge: Harry and Ginny are trying to keep something a secret, but everyone they meet knows that *something* is up. When will they come clean, and how many rumours will be doing the rounds by then?
Sunday evening
"So when should we tell?" Harry asked eagerly.
Ginny frowned, thinking. She wanted desperately to carol the news of their upcoming wedding from the rooftops, but something was making her hold back. "How about Saturday, when we all go to Mum and Dad's for dinner?" she suggested.
"That's a whole week!" Harry protested.
"I know. But don't you think everyone should be told at the same time? That way we don't forget anyone, and nobody gets upset because they weren't told first." She rolled her eyes expressively, and Harry chuckled in appreciation. "So, Saturday, then?" she pressed.
He sighed and raised her hand to his lips, gently kissing her fingers. "All right. But I just know I'm never going to be able to restrain myself when we go out in public!" he said. "The temptation to tell will just be far too great." He mimicked greeting someone in a shop. "'Well, hello there, Seamus. Haven't seen you in months! By the way, did you know Ginny and I are engaged?'"
Ginny grinned saucily. A wonderful idea for mischief had just occurred to her. "Then maybe we shouldn't go out together between now and then," she said.
Harry blinked. "I-what?" he asked, clearly caught off guard.
"In fact," she continued blithely, "maybe we should go back to sleeping in our own beds for awhile."
The gob-smacked expression on his face nearly made her chortle. I do so love taking the mickey out of him.
"But-" Harry said faintly, eyes wide, jaw open. "But-we-I mean-"
"After all, we don't want to risk the news getting out early, do we?" she asked sweetly, doing her best to hide the mischievous twinkle in her eyes behind wide-eyed (and well-feigned) innocence.
"Well-no-" he floundered, "but, Ginny-"
"I'll see you at work tomorrow, then, love," she said brightly, kissed him on the cheek, and Apparated back to the flat she shared with Hermione. There she collapsed onto the sofa in gales of laughter at the look on Harry's face. Even the sure knowledge that he'd get her back the next day didn't dampen her spirits-in fact, she was rather looking forward to it.
Finally the laughter subsided and she sat up, fumbling for her handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face and blow her nose. Except for nights when one or the other of them was on assignment, she hadn't slept alone in months; assuming they spent the whole week apart, it would be a long, cold, lonely set of nights-but finally telling the family that they were engaged would be more than worth it.
She was in the midst of wiping her eyes when Hermione Apparated in, a blissful smile on her face. Clearly, she and Ron had been out somewhere. The smile faded into a startled expression when she saw her flat-mate. "Ginny!" she said in surprise. "I didn't expect you home. Where's Harry?"
"He's back at his flat."
"Oh." Hermione gave Ginny a strange look. "So you're going back there tonight?"
"No, I'm staying here tonight," Ginny said, stifling a yawn. She hadn't realised how tired she was. It had been a busy weekend, not even counting Harry's proposal last night, and she had to be at work in the morning. I hate Mondays. Although… this Monday, I get to begin a week's prank war with Harry, so there's at least something to look forward to. She grinned.
"Well, then, when's Harry coming over?" Hermione glanced at the corner they used for an Apparition point, as though expecting him to appear.
"He's not, Hermione," Ginny said patiently. "We're taking a bit of a break from each other for a week or so."
"A break?" Hermione stared, open-mouthed. "What's happened? What's wrong?"
Oh, Merlin, now I've panicked her. "Nothing," Ginny said, trying to be reassuring. "Just a bit of a break. We've been down each others' throats for months, after all; we just need a bit of space. Don't fret, Hermione; I'll see him tomorrow at work." She stretched, yawning. "Speaking of which, the alarm sounds too bloody early in the morning. I think I'd best get off to bed. Good night."
She rose and, with a quick smile for her flat-mate, headed for her bedroom. Her head was full of all the mischief she could pull on Harry this week. Perhaps I could go to work without knickers, she thought as she pulled her robes off over her head and tossed them toward the laundry basket. Or wear those heeled boots he likes so well. Maybe a shopping trip to the back rooms of Madam Malkin's?
She shrugged into a nightgown and slipped between the covers, chuckling quietly to herself. I wonder what Harry's planning in retaliation, she thought as she blew out the candle and settled onto her side, one arm beneath her head. She chuckled again. Whatever it is, it'll be a laugh finding out. It's a good job we fell in love, because he'd be wasted on any family but the Weasleys!
***
Hermione watched, dumbfounded, as Ginny made her way back to the bedroom. She couldn't believe what she'd just seen-what she'd just heard! Quickly, she turned to the fireplace, knelt in front of it, and threw a pinch of Floo Powder in, hissing, "Ron Weasley!"
There was the disorienting sensation of her head leaving her shoulders, then she was looking at the kitchen of Ron and Harry's flat. Ron, shirtless and barefoot, was bending down to see who it was. "Hello, love!" he said, surprised. "You didn't change your mind about coming over, did you? You sounded so emphat-"
"Ron," Hermione interrupted, "is Harry home?"
Ron blinked. "Well, yeah," he said. "Just went off to bed, muttering. I was a bit surprised that Ginny wasn't here, but I suppose she's been assigned somewhere."
"She hasn't," Hermione told him. "She's staying here tonight."
"She is?" He looked flabbergasted. "But-well, that's odd, isn't it?"
"It's more than odd." She shifted to try to ease the ache in her knees. "Ron, I think they've had a row."
He waved his hand dismissively. "They're always rowing over something or other. You know Ginny's temper. They'll be fine." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Now, if you'd like to re-think that cold, lonely bed, Miss Granger-" he began.
"I don't think they will be fine," Hermione pressed. "I think there's something really serious going on! When I came home, Ginny looked like she'd been crying."
"Crying?" Ron repeated. "Oh, come on, Hermione. Ginny hardly ever cries."
"Well, she was crying tonight," Hermione insisted. "And she told me that she and Harry were taking a break from each other."
Finally, he looked as though he were taking her seriously. "A break from each other?"
"That's what she said," Hermione confirmed. "And she'd definitely been crying. Her cheeks were damp, her face was blotchy, her eyes were red, and she was sniffling."
Ron considered for a moment. "I think you'd better come on over, 'Mione. To talk," he clarified, as she glowered at him. "Harry was muttering something about 'damned women' and 'payback' when he went to bed. I think we'd better compare notes. Maybe we can help them fix things."
Hermione sighed, both with concern for her friends and relief that she'd be getting off her knees-the brick hearth hurt. "I'm on my way."
***
Monday morning
As Harry dressed the next morning, he considered the situation. He knew full well that Ginny was teasing him, and knew, too, that she expected him to try to take revenge. The only question was, how? In the normal way of things, he might have been tempted to consult Fred and George, but that was clearly impossible in this case; they'd ask why, and he'd promised not to tell anyone about their engagement yet.
"Think, Potter," he muttered as he pulled his Auror's robes over his head and settled them across his shoulders. He and Ginny had had prank wars before, many times, in fact. The fact that Ginny usually won wasn't the point; it was a way of working off some of the stress that their jobs-even now, five years after Voldemort's defeat-caused. So he had to do something. But what?
He walked back into the bathroom, hung up his damp towel, and reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste. Why is it, he thought as he squeezed toothpaste onto the bristles and ran the brush under the tap, that I can defeat a Dark Wizard before I'm eighteen, go through three years of Auror training, and spend two years in the field, but I can't work out how to prank my fiancée, whom I've known for ten years? I can't just do nothing.
He stopped, toothbrush halfway to his mouth, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. Why can't I? he thought, staring at his startled reflection. If she's expecting me to get back at her, wouldn't it do just that if I don't react?
"Are you going to clean your teeth or just stare at your pretty face?" the mirror said testily. He startled, then proceeded, still thinking.
Maybe I should just...act as though she were another employee, not particularly special at all. Friendly, but nothing more. He grinned at the thought. While they were careful to remain professional if they were on a mission, if they were in the office, they'd often indulge in passing caresses or other displays of affection-and always, always ate lunch together. More than once, Ron had suggested the Ministry put alarms on cupboard doors, in case the two of them decided to 'find some time alone,' as he'd put it. For Harry to treat her as a common or garden acquaintance would make her wild.
Satisfied, Harry spat, rinsed, and ran a comb through his thick hair. Today would certainly be interesting.
***
When Ginny arrived at work, she was prepared for almost anything, or so she thought. To her surprise, when she reached her desk, nothing jumped, squeaked, exploded, snarled, yelled, or did anything else; everything was precisely as she'd left it. Tania Greensward, who worked at the next desk over, didn't mention any notes or visitors. She sighed and sat down to begin work. It looked as though it would be a perfectly ordinary day.
The very ordinariness of it absorbed her attention. Once she got involved in her work-there was a huge pile of parchment in her in-box that required her focus-she was almost able to forget about anything unusual going on with Harry. That was, she could until she looked up, saw that it was nearly ten o'clock, and realised she hadn't seen Harry all day.
Sudden worry seized her-had he fallen ill? Had he been called suddenly on assignment? But surely he'd have sent a memo or a note of some kind-?
Picking up her cup, she left on the pretext of getting more tea, and headed down the corridor and to the right, where Harry and Ron's desks were. She relaxed slightly; he sat there, brow furrowed in concentration, reading a report and taking notes on a piece of parchment. Both relieved and a little irritated that he hadn't even said hello to her yet, she went up to him.
He looked up, and a friendly-friendly?-smile spread across his face. "Hi, Ginny," he said pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"
She noticed Ron, whose desk was directly behind Harry's, look up suddenly and frown, but she ignored him. "I just realised I hadn't seen you all day," she said, trying hard not to make the statement into a question.
"Oh." He shrugged and sat back, tossing his quill casually to the desk and stretching. "My in-box was piled nearly a foot high, and I've barely been able to make a dent in it. I hate paper days; I'd much rather be out in the field." He smiled again, but it wasn't the slow, warm, sensual smile he usually gave her; it was bright and cheerful, the kind of smile he might give an acquaintance he'd talked to three or four times at most. If she hadn't seen the sparkle of mischief in his eye, she might have been fooled.
So that's the plan, is it? "Yes, mine's overflowing as well," she said off-handedly, but she knew the glint of triumph she saw in his green eyes meant he'd noticed her momentary confusion. "But must be done, right?" She turned to Ron as though he'd been the real reason for her visit, and she'd only said hello to Harry because it would have been impolite to completely ignore him. "Hey, Ron," she said, "want to go to lunch with me?"
Ron blinked, looking between the two of them before saying, "Ah, no, thanks, Ginny-Hermione and me are going out. There's a restaurant she wants to take me to." His ears flushed a bit.
"Okay," she said as if it didn't matter at all (which it didn't). "See you, Harry."
"See you," he said, already bent over his report again.
She walked away, feeling rather satisfied. So that's his game, she thought. Pretending I don't exist. Well, two can play that one; let's see how well he enjoys being just as ignored as he's doing to me.
***
Monday noon
Ginny left her desk a little early and ensconced herself in a corner of the cafeteria, preparing to completely ignore him when he came in. The problem was that he wasn't coming in. She'd been there fifteen minutes already, and he wasn't anywhere in sight.
She sighed, playing with the crusts of her ham-and-cheese sandwich. "Botheration," she muttered. She hated to admit it, but he was one up on her; she was seriously considering being worried that perhaps she really had irritated him somehow.
No, I couldn't've. He'd have said something. Wouldn't he?
"Hi, Ginny!" a familiar voice said. She glanced up to see Hannah Abbott, who worked as a secretary in the Magical Law Enforcement offices. "May I join you?"
"Certainly," Ginny said, forcing a smile. It wasn't doing her the least bit of good to obsess over this. A bit of companionship might help.
"So, where's Harry?" Hannah asked, seating herself across from Ginny and pulling a salad out of her lunch bag.
"No idea," Ginny said, shrugging with partly-feigned unconcern. "Perhaps he's eating at his desk."
Hannah frowned, spearing a chunk of tomato. "But I thought you two always ate together."
"Not today." Ginny glanced up and felt a stab of-excitement? Nerves?-as she spotted a head of messy black hair amongst the group of men in Auror robes who'd just come in, talking and laughing. She watched as they sat at a table on the far side of the room, Harry with his back to her. Despite herself, a spasm of honest concern shot through her. Maybe she had truly upset him last night. "He's over there, actually," she said with artificial casualness, nodding toward the side of the room. "Just came in."
Hannah looked over, then back to Ginny, mouth agape. "What's the matter?" she asked, concerned. "Have you two quarrelled?"
"No," Ginny said, nettled because she was beginning to wonder if perhaps they had, and she just hadn't realised.
"Well, he's clear over there-"
"We're not joined at the hip, you know, Hannah," Ginny snapped.
Hannah blinked. "Well, of course not-I just thought-"
Ginny sighed and cradled her head in her hands. "I'm sorry. I have a headache," she lied. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"Oh, that's all right, Ginny," Hannah said sympathetically. "Finish your sandwich; maybe you'll feel better."
Ginny shook her head and stood, picking up the remnants of her lunch. "No, I think I'll just go on back to my desk. I've got some headache potion there." She smiled, a little forced, and said, "I'll see you later, Hannah."
"Bye," Hannah said, her expression still concerned.
Ginny tossed her sandwich wrapper into the bin and left without a backward glance. She could feel Hannah's eyes on her, but refused to turn and acknowledge it. Maybe I should Floo Harry tonight and see if he's really upset, she thought as she headed back toward her desk. Just to be sure.
But when she reached her desk, she found a memo fluttering agitatedly, waiting for her. Her heart leapt when she saw Harry's handwriting, and she ripped it open hastily.
So, Weasley. Ready to concede? I've a bottle of wine at my flat, and I'm sure Ron wouldn't mind being gone for a night. The bed's awfully empty and cold without you.
Ginny laughed as relief flooded through her. He wasn't angry-he was just playing the game. In the empty space beneath what he'd written, she scribbled her own note.
Not a chance, Potter. Though I might be willing if you begged; the ability to do that is a fine quality in a husband.
She sent it to his desk with a flick of her wand, and sat back down in a much better mood for the afternoon's paperwork.
***
Hannah watched Ginny go, concern marring her features. That wasn't like Harry and Ginny, not at all. Something was definitely awry.
A tray clattered to the table next to her, and she jumped, startled. "Oh," Neville said, blushing. "Sorry. Slipped out of my hand. Can I-?" He gestured toward the chair Ginny had vacated, and Hannah nodded somewhat absently. He sat. "Is something wrong?" he asked, picking up his knife and fork and cutting into his steak-and-kidney pie.
Hannah nodded soberly, turning back to him. "I think there might be," she said. She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "You and Susan saw each other for a long time before you got married. You used to row, right?"
"Well, some," Neville admitted. He rubbed his ring self-consciously; he and Susan had only been married a few months.
"Did you ever stop speaking to each other?"
Neville winced. "A couple of times she stopped speaking to me," he said. "Never lasted very long, though. Susan's got a quick temper, but she cools off fast, too." He took a bite.
Hanna leaned back, chewing her lip. "But Ginny doesn't," she said quietly.
"Ginny Weasley?" Neville laughed. "Her temper's worse than the rest of her family put together, when she gets worked up." His eyes widened as he seemed to put two and two together. "Merlin-you don't think she and Harry have been quarrelling, do you?"
Hannah nodded again. "She and Harry barely looked at each other at lunch, when they're usually inseparable. And she certainly seemed upset about something."
"Maybe it'll blow over," Neville said hopefully. "After all, once Ginny gets over her mad, she doesn't hold a grudge."
"Yes, but what about Harry?"
"I can't imagine anything that would make Harry that mad at Ginny," Neville protested. "Unless-" He stopped, pressing his lips together.
"Unless what?" Hannah asked, curious. She'd never known Harry well, but Neville had lived in the same dormitory for seven years; he had to have better insight than she.
"Well," Neville said reluctantly, "Harry's lost a lot in his life, hasn't he? Been betrayed by a lot of people."
Hannah's jaw dropped. "You think Ginny betrayed him?" she whispered incredulously. "Cheated on him, you mean?"
"I didn't say that!" Neville said quickly. "Ginny would never do something like that! I'm just saying that's the only thing Harry could find unforgivable: betrayal, of whatever sort." He took another bite, chewed, swallowed. "But Ginny would never, never do that," he said positively.
Sighing, Hannah stabbed a bit of now-wilting lettuce. "I hope you're right," she said morosely.
***
"So?" Hermione said impatiently as Ron, who had Transfigured his robes into Muggle jeans and a sweatshirt, slid into the booth across from her. "What did you find out?"
"Well, he's not being very forthcoming," Ron said. "Hardly mentioned Ginny at all." The waiter appeared at his elbow and he looked up. "Oh! Erm, a pint of bitter for me. Hermione?"
"Ron, it's the middle of the work day!" she hissed, scandalised.
"One pint of bitter won't do any harm," he said, rolling his eyes. "Just order your drink."
"Water, please," she said primly. The waiter nodded confirmation, caught Ron's eye and gave him a sympathetic wink, then left to get the drinks. Ron grinned. Muggles could be good blokes, when it came down to it.
"What'll you have for lunch?" he asked, opening the menu. "Bangers and mash sounds good."
"Ron," she said through clenched teeth. "Tell me about Harry."
"Oh, yeah." He hid another grin; despite his worry over Harry and Ginny, he did so love to get Hermione riled up. "Well, like I said, he didn't say much to me, but he never went to see her this morning. Never left his desk except to go to the loo."
"Maybe he saw her on the way," she suggested.
"Couldn't've. The door's within sight of our desks. Ah!" The waiter had come with their drinks. "Cheers, mate," he said, taking a sip and licking the foam from his upper lip.
"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked, taking out his notebook and pen.
"I'll have a salad," Hermione said, pushing the menu toward the edge of the table.
"And you, sir?" the waiter asked.
"Bangers and mash."
"Right." He pocketed his pad and took their menus. "Thank you." He disappeared into the kitchen through a swinging door, leaving them alone again.
"So," Hermione said, resuming her questioning, "they didn't see each other at all?"
"Ginny came by about mid-morning," he said, taking another drink. "Asked me if I wanted to go to lunch. She and Harry said about a dozen words to each other, and they sounded like casual acquaintances at best." He remembered the shallow, light conversation with a pang; it had sounded as though the two of them barely knew each other at all.
"That's not good," Hermione said worriedly.
"No, it's not. He was still at his desk when I left to meet you; I don't know whether he went to lunch at all."
Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. "We've got to do something, Ron. If it's just a lover's squabble, maybe we could help them patch it up. We can't let them go on like this; they'll be miserable without each other."
"I know," Ron sighed, leaning back. "But what can we do?"
"I don't know," Hermione replied, picking up her napkin and laying it daintily on her lap as the food arrived. "But I intend to think of something."
***
Monday evening
Harry arrived back at his flat after work tired, but pleased. Ginny's response, while not what he might have wished for, had been precisely in character for her. She wants me to beg, does she? he thought, going into his bedroom to change from his uniform to a pair of Muggle sweats and a tee-shirt. He gave a short laugh. Wonder how she's planning to arrange that.
His brain immediately presented him with an image of just how she might, and he groaned as his lower belly tightened. Damn, damn, damn. That woman's going to be the death of me, and she's not even here!
Sighing, he went into the kitchen to see what he could fix for dinner; it was his night to cook. A pop sounded in the dining area, which they never used except as an Apparition point, and Ron appeared. "How'd you get home so fast?" he demanded.
"I didn't stop to have a chat with half the blokes in the office," Harry said mildly. He opened the refrigerator door-charmed mirror notwithstanding, it was a purely Muggle flat, and so was wired for electricity, much to his future father-in-law's delight. "Let's see-we've got some ground beef and some potatoes; with a few vegetables, I could make shepherd's pie."
"Harry," Ron said, and Harry immediately turned to look at his friend. That was Ron's I-really-don't-want-to-mention-this-but-I-guess-I-have-to voice. "What's going on with you and Ginny?"
"We're going out, Ron," Harry said patiently. "Have been for awhile. Having sex, too," he added as an afterthought, purely to make his best mate shudder.
Ron shuddered. "That's not what I mean. I meant recently. Last night and today."
"Nothing's going on," Harry said as innocently as he could, pulling out the sack of potatoes from the cupboard and setting them to be peeled and chopped with a wave of his wand. "Why?"
Ron coloured, but said, "You slept alone last night."
"So did you," Harry pointed out.
"And you barely talked to Ginny today."
"We talked!" Harry protested. "We were just busy. That raid on Borgin and Burke's last Saturday produced more paperwork-"
"I know," Ron groaned, running his hands through his hair. "But you're both acting oddly, and I'm worried."
Harry sighed. "Look, Ron," he said. "There's nothing wrong. I just... I promised not to say anything until the dinner at the Burrow, okay? Ginny and I are not having troubles. Well, not many," he amended, thinking of the trouble she was likely to get him into this week. "It's good news, don't worry; we just wanted to tell everyone all at once. All right?"
Ron stared at him. "Good news?" he repeated.
"Yes." Oh, hell, Harry thought, I can't just leave him in the dark like this. "Without giving too much away," he added, "let's just say that there'll be a new member of the Weasley family soon." He Banished the peeled, chopped potatoes to a pan and added water from the tap, then put the pan on the cooker to boil. "I fancy a bit of a walk," he said. "I'll go get the vegetables. Just keep an eye on the potatoes. Make sure they don't boil over or get overdone, all right? I'd like to be able to eat tonight." He turned to look at Ron, frowning at the flabbergasted expression on his best mate's face. "Hey," he said. "You all right?"
Ron shook himself, as though to bring himself out of his stupor. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go on and do the shopping; I'll keep an eye on things."
Harry frowned, looking carefully at Ron, but he did seem to be all right now. Must not have realised things were serious enough for me to propose, he thought, smugly pleased at the way he'd told Ron without betraying his promise to Ginny. "All right," he said. He slipped his feet into his trainers and grabbed a jacket off the coat tree in the entryway, sliding the wallet that held his Muggle money into his pocket. "I'll be right back," he said, and headed out the door toward the shops down the hill. And maybe I can find something for Ginny.
***
As soon as the door had shut behind Harry, Ron went straight for the Floo and called Hermione. "Is Ginny home yet?" he asked.
"She's in the shower. Why?"
"I think it's not a break-up, Hermione." Ron swallowed. "I think Ginny's pregnant." He told her what Harry had said about a new member of the family. "It seems pretty clear, doesn't it?" he finished, half-hoping she'd find some reason to disagree with him.
Hermione rubbed her face with a hand. "I hate to say it, Ron-I'd've thought they'd have been more careful!-but I'm afraid you must be right. I can't imagine what else he could have meant by that." She glanced over her shoulder, then back to Ron. "The shower's just turned off; she'll be out shortly. You said they're planning to tell everyone on Saturday?"
"That's right," Ron said. His heart felt as though it had sunk right down to his boots.
She sighed. "Well, unless you want to break a confidence, we're going to have to keep this quiet until then," she said resignedly. "You can't go about telling people without letting Ginny know that Harry told."
Ron cocked his head; an idea had just struck him. "I can't," he said. "But what if you got Ginny to confide in you?"
Hermione blinked. "I couldn't tell anyone either," she protested.
"You could tell me, since I already know," he pointed out. "And then at least we'd be prepared. We wouldn't be sitting round wondering and worrying."
"What about everyone else?" she asked, frowning. "Won't they be worried?"
"Why would they be? None of them know anything's amiss. Come on, Hermione, I'm going to be driven berserk if I don't know what's going on. And so will you," he added shrewdly. "Just see if you can get her to talk to you. You're her best friend; surely she'd confide in you if she confides in anyone."
"Well… maybe," she said dubiously. There was a sound behind her, and she glanced around again. "She's out. I'd better go."
The fire went dark, and Ron rose to his feet, wincing at the ache in his knees. He'd better check on the potatoes; if Harry had to start all over by the time he got home from the shops, he'd be hell to live with, and Ron resolved to stay on Harry's good side. Maybe he could get some more information that way.
***
Neville Apparated into his home at precisely six-thirty, as usual. Also as usual, Susan had already begun making dinner; her work day was finished half an hour before his, and she liked to have dinner begun by the time he got home. He reckoned Gran would have something to say about it if she knew (probably something like 'Susan, dear, you don't have to be his servant! He knows perfectly well how to fend for himself, after all'), but as she didn't know, all was well with his world.
Well, mostly. Hannah's revelations about Ginny and Harry were still bothering him. He couldn't imagine Ginny cheating on Harry-or Harry cheating on Ginny, either. It just wasn't like either of them. Something was very, very wrong.
"Hallo, love," Susan said placidly as she used a fork to turn the chops in the pan. "Dinner will be ready shortly; why don't you hang up your cloak and change out of those robes?" She smiled up at him, but when she caught sight of his face, her smile faded. "What's the matter, Neville? Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure," he prevaricated. She frowned, as if unsure what he meant, and he sighed. "Let me do as you suggested, and I'll tell you over dinner."
"All right," she said, but she still looked concerned. "It's nothing serious, is it, dear?"
"Nothing life-threatening," he reassured her. "I'll be right back, and then I promise to tell you all about it."
He hung his cloak in the downstairs wardrobe and ran upstairs to shed his work robes. He came downstairs in a rather shabby set of robes that he loved; they were comfortable for sitting round the house or for working in his garden or greenhouse, even if they were no longer suitable to be worn outside. When he returned downstairs, he found that Susan had set the table and was waiting for him, so he sat and began filling his plate.
"So," she said as he handed her the bowl of peas, "tell me what's going on. It must be something to get you in such a dither."
He sighed, lifting a chop with his fork and putting it on his plate, then reaching for the bowl of mashed potato. "Something's… gone wrong with Harry and Ginny," he said finally.
"Gone wrong?" Susan looked at him with concern. "What do you mean?"
He sighed, scooping up a bit of potato on his fork, then putting it down again, untasted. "I don't know exactly what's wrong, but they didn't eat together today-didn't even look at each other, so far as I could tell-and Hannah seems to think there's something more going on than meets the eye. She was talking to Ginny at lunch before I got there."
"Oh, Neville," Susan said affectionately. "They've been going out for some time now; they don't have to be with each other all the time. I'm sure that's all it was."
"Hannah didn't seem to think so," Neville said doubtfully.
"Well, think logically. What on earth could break Harry and Ginny apart when they've been so close for so long?"
"I have thought," Neville said quietly. "There's only one thing that could, and neither of them would ever do it. They'd never cheat-neither of them."
"Exactly," Susan said firmly. "And has there been any evidence that they have done, against all probability? Any sightings of either of them with someone else? Or someone hearing them row?"
"Not to my knowledge," Neville said, his heart beginning to lighten.
"Exactly. So why worry? It may be some minor quarrel; it may be nothing at all." Susan smiled, and Neville felt again how fortunate he was to have won her heart. "Keep your eyes open if you wish, darling, but don't see things that aren't there. Surely you have enough to worry you without borrowing trouble for our friends as well!"
"You're right, of course, my love," Neville said. He'd been foolish to jump to conclusions. Susan was so good for him; she was always able to clear his mind. He took a bite, feeling much better. Of course Harry and Ginny were all right. But maybe he should keep an eye out, just in case.