Journey: Harry Potter

58.

Mya sat on the beach of Shell Cottage, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her feet buried in the sand. The radio was playing next to her announcing what every the Ministry was now enforcing.

Normally she'd listen to Fred and George's broadcast, but they had done one yesterday and for their safety, they had to wait a few days before they could go live again. Mya hadn't even been the one who suggested it to them. It was all their brilliant minds that suggested they do it. And of course, she supported it. Whatever they could to keep everyone informed was a must. 

Her belly was growing at a tremendous rate. At this point in late October, she couldn't even see her feet when she stood up. There was some excitement that came with the baby but she didn't really feel like she could enjoy it. Not fully at least.

There were so many people running for their lives or dying out there... and she got to sit on the safety of a beach protected by magic.

"What are you doing listening to that rubbish?" Fred turned the radio off. He took a seat next to her, patting his hands together to try and get the sand off them.

"Well we have to know what propaganda they are saying this time," Mya mumbled. 

"No, we don't," Fred shook his head. "And it's not good for the baby to hear. I don't want him coming into this world thinking its all bad. We're supposed to tell him about all the good things when he's young."

Mya smiled, turning her head to look at him. "How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?"

"Probably my natural charm," Fred shrugged with a smirk. "Or maybe the fact that when I met you, you were talking a lot of nonsense. And I find that incredibly attractive in a girl."

Mya giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear that the wind had been blowing around. "You always make me laugh, Fred."

"And I want you to keep laugh, even if I'm gone," Fred told her.

"You're asking me to do an impossible thing," Mya said.

"Well yeah, of course I expect a year of morning," Fred leaned back on his hands. "And I'm talking proper morning. Crying all of it. Then I will only allow you to start seeing other people three years after my death."

"Fred," Mya pouted.

"Sorry, jokes," Fred sat up, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "Ten years."

"Fred!" She smacked him in his chest.

But Fred just roared with laughter. Then he grew serious. "You're going to tell him about me, right?"

"Of course," Mya would never dear think of keeping their child away from the knowledge of their father. "I'm going to tell him all about how you made me laugh, in even the darkest of times."

"I think he's going to be a quidditch player," Fred smiled, looking out to the see. "A beater, of course. The best the worlds ever seen. And one day, he's going to be at the quidditch world cup."