The Diary Of Rose Weasley- Sixth Year And Pregnant

The Damned, Red, Sexy, Lacy, Silky, Skimpy, Uncomfortable, Stupid Pajamas

In the kitchen, Auntie Ginny was berating James and Fred for apparating all over the house. Nana Molly glanced at Uncle George with a faintly nostalgic expression. He winked at her. I sat down next to Uncle Harry. I always felt safe near him and, with the murderous looks my dad was occasionally shooting people, I reckoned it was worth surrounding myself with people who would protect me if he suddenly tried to curse something.

Dom dropped into a chair next to Teddy, engaging him in a conversation about whether Professor Slughorn had been unfair not to invite her to the Slug Club Christmas Party (she'd got off scot-free – believe me, I was there), and Al was asking Granddad Arthur a question about muggle telephone masts. How could everyone be so normal?

Nana Molly began to serve out generous helpings of the delicious-smelling meal she'd prepared. I tucked in gratefully, shovelling forkful after forkful of mashed potato into my mouth, half-heartedly listening to Uncle Charlie telling Uncle Harry about the time he lost a dragon when he'd supervised a group of them being transported over to London for a meeting with someone from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Harry, in turn, was repeating the story of him and my parents stealing the Gringotts dragon and flying to Hogsmeade (I'd never really appreciated that that was a seven hour journey. Were they on the dragon for seven hours?) Was it normal for people to have horror stories about dragons? All I had was the sickening realisation that I was pregnant to tell for being sixteen.

I'd done a really good job of ignoring all my problems and concentrating on my dinner, but the moment the word pregnant flashed into my mind, it wouldn't leave. I wasn't sure if it was just the thought of fucking my life up, or if it was an actual pregnancy thing, but suddenly I thought I could feel nausea washing over me.

I poured myself some pumpkin juice, concentrating on how much I loved Shepherd's Pie, and tuning into James asking whether he could become a 'gnome-herd' for the ugly creatures in the garden.

"... so I'd round them up, and Nana Molly could make gnome-herd pie. Or would it just be gnome pie? They look enough like potatoes, anyway."

I jumped up from the table.

"Rose?" Auntie Ginny was asking worriedly. Mum had barely glanced up. I shook my head.

"I feel sick," I mumbled, running out of the room with my hand over my mouth.

I barely made it to the bathroom in time – there were so many stupid stairs in this house. I threw up my dinner violently into the toilet. Teddy burst into the bathroom after me. I slumped down against the wall miserably, my eyes filling with tears.

Teddy slid down the wall next to me. He cast a Muffliato charm on the door and locked it before turning to face me.

"So you are...?" he asked slowly.

I nodded. I didn't even need to ask what he was talking about. Tears began to slide down my cheeks, and before I knew it I was sobbing into Teddy's chest, wiping mascara all over his red t-shirt.

"It's ok, Rosie," he said softly, stroking my fiery hair.

"No, it's not, Teddy," I mumbled, sniffing. "I've fucked up, I've let everyone down and I've ruined everything."

He prised me off his chest angrily. "You have not let everyone down! I mean, I might not actually be a Weasley, but I can assure you that you're nowhere near close to 'ruining everything'. You have so much more to say for yourself than that you're pregnant, Rose. You're a Prefect, you're intelligent, you're sensible – usually – and witty, funny and sarcastic. You're fantastic, Rose. You can't let yourself believe that you aren't worth more than this. It's going to be a really shit uphill journey if you're so down on yourself, Weasley."