"Harry," I call. I'm sitting in our room by myself. Harry comes rushing in.
"Gin?" He asks. I smile shakily.
"Harry, I'm scared." I'm in the middle of my sixth month. Harry sits down next to me and puts one arm around me, the other resting on my stomach.
"Gin, you'll be fine," he says as I start to cry. "Hermione, Nadine and Fleur are managing, aren't they?"
It's true. Fleur's daughter Victoire is four and a half months old. Hermione's son Hugo and Nadine's twins, Sammy and Callum, are all one and a half months old, having been born on the same day. "Yes but that's them, isn't it?" I choke out between sobs. "What if I'm a rubbish mum?"
"Oh, Gin." Harry rubs my back soothingly until I stop crying. "You'll be brilliant, I know you will. You know what? You'll be the best mum ever. Better than Hermione or Nadine or Fleur, better than Angelina or Alicia or Penelope when theirs are born. You'll be just perfect, Gin, I know it."
I burst into fresh tears. "I don't deserve you, Harry." I lean into him, feeling safer when I do that. "I love you, you know that?"
"I know you do, Gin. I love you, too, and I'm sure our baby will love you just as much as I do."
I smile now, feeling safe and happy and warm with Harry's arms around me.