That night, Harry and Ginny came round Ron and Hermione's house, that looked well and truelly lived in. There was marks on the leather sofa and seemed to have suspiciously like cockie crums on the beautiful oak floor.
At the dinner table it was very quiet, only the odd ticking new clock, and the hands pointing to home. A tiny cough, and a scrapping of some plates, seemed to rouse everyone to speech.
"So, how was your honeymoon?" Mrs Weasley asked Harry and Ginny in her usual frog like voice.
A slightly pained face forced its self on to Ginny's face. She scrunched up her face, and looked timidly at Harry.
Ginny then broke into uproar. Telling them about the absurd man on the plane, about her nearly drowning in the clear, sparkeling water of Hawii and about the flight back and the painful nights in the hotel.
Silence was the only thing you could hear when she had finished.
Mrs Weasley croaked after a much long time of thought.
"Well, it seems you're" she was inturupted my the yell of Ginny,
"NO!" She shook her head, "Don't say that word"
"I'm sorry, but it seems the only explanation" Mrs Weasely scoffed, "and to be onest with you, I'm over the moon"
"Well I'm not" Ginny spat, standing up her chair screeching like a thousand screaming crows. "I don't want to have a baby, NOT YET!" and with that she ran out of the kitchen, and slammed the front door shut.
Another burst of silence crashed its self into the kitchen.
Mrs Weasley looked at Harry, sighing.
"I think we a have some complications."