Disclaimer: Do I own Harry Potter? Let me think about that – a little bit more– no!

A/N: Oh! It feels strange to start a new fan-fiction, but I'm almost over with all my other multi-chaptered fictions, and I wanted to do something new, something different, something nice, so - here you are. First of all, this story contains a little bit of everything: humour, drama, horror and naturally romance (that's why I placed it under 'General'). Second, since this is the second generation, if you want in the next Author's Note I'll write all the 'families' that I've created. I've tried to stay into cannon as much as possible (sorry no Luna/Ron, Draco/Hermione, Pansy/Harry, Ginny/Blaise, etc… here), as a matter of fact, the couples are just what you expect them to be in the books (except a few, maybe), so Harry and Ginny will be together, but sorry, I'm afraid I won't be able to write anything fluffy about them. One last thing, I really hope that you'll like this chapter, and the whole story. Enjoy it!

To Halo of Darkness: As always a big thank you for beta-reading my work.

Blue

Madam Pomfrey rubbed her eyes and glanced again at the small bottle sitting in front of her, full of a blue liquid.

"This cannot be, Poppy," she muttered to herself. "This potion must have passed its sell-by date."

She picked up the bottle and looked at it against the light, then shook it and waited. The liquid inside became green and then slowly black.

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Ah, that's better," she said picking up a feather and pouring it into the ink bottle. "Black, the girl has a flu and-" her voice trailed off as she glanced back at the bottle and at the liquid that was now turning blue again.

"Blue?" she asked angrily to herself. "How can this be? Filch will feel my wrath if he dares to buy some other low-cost potions."

She threw the small bottle away and stood up, walked towards a cupboard, and took out another bottle. She read the name on the label and paid lots of attention to the expiration date on the top.

"This one should be fine," she said, sitting back at her desk. She took out a small vial filled with blood and poured some into the bottle. Then she leaned against the chair, sighing deeply.

"Blue," she repeated, rolling her eyes. "I've never seen that potion turn blue. I don't even know what it would mean." She seemed to think for a moment. "It wouldn't mean anything," she decided firmly, "It was just a mistake."

She looked at the other small bottle in the middle of the table and, for a moment, she didn't understand what was happening. She picked up the bottle and smelled the liquid.

"It seems all right," she muttered. "So why does it turn blue?"

She glared at the potion for a long half an hour, hoping to see it turning any other colour but blue. Then, Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and stood up. She walked briskly towards her personal library, filled of books about medicine and picked up a huge tome. She placed it on her desk and opened it, searching for the page about the potion that she was using.

"Ah, here I am," she said finally. "Let's see what they say about the colours which the potion turns. Black is flu, red is measles, white is stomach ache, green is smallpox, blue is-" her voice died in her throat as she mentally read what blue meant. She sat back in her chair, seizing the table as to not fall down.

She tried to calm down a little and steady her breathing. Then, Madam Pomfrey picked up the small bottle and the form of the girl and stormed out of her office, heading determinedly toward the Headmistress' office.

"Switching Spell," she said angrily to the gargoyle statue as if it was its fault that he had to stay there. The gargoyle moved away and Madam Pomfrey climbed up the stairs two at a time, something that she never did since a long time ago. She knocked on the door and without waiting for an answer; she entered.

"Minerva, I have to talk to you," she said crossing the office and sitting in front of the Headmistress.

Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper that she was reading and, for a moment, surprise flittered across her face when she spotted the shaken woman in front of her. "Poppy, are you all right?" she asked her, concerned.

"What?" asked Madam Pomfrey, quickly. "Of course I am. It's not me whom we are talking about."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "No, because we aren't talking about anybody yet."

"What?" asked Madam Pomfrey, confused.

"Poppy, do you want something to drink?" asked Professor McGonagall, sitting up and walking towards the bottles.

"No, thanks, Minerva. I'm here because I think that you must be informed of this," she said and placed the small bottle on the desk right in front of Professor McGonagall.

"Nice colour, but what is it?" asked Professor McGonagall after a while.

Madam Pomfrey glared at her. "This potion, Minerva, tell us what is ailing the patient. Each colour is a different disease."

"Oh, well, and this potion is blue because the person that – wait a minute, who is this potion for?" Professor McGonagall asked, realizing that she didn't know whom she was talking about yet.

Madam Pomfrey pulled out a parchment from her pocket and handed it to Professor McGonagall, who looked down at it. "Miss Rachel Weasley," she read the name on top aloud. "She is the daughter of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, right?" she asked.

"She is," said Madam Pomfrey, nodding.

"And what kind of disease does she have?" asked Professor McGonagall, "Is it something to worry about? Something dangerous?"

"What? No, no, nothing dangerous. And it's not even a disease," said Madam Pomfrey, looking at the bottle as she was waiting for it to change colour again.

Professor McGonagall looked at her and took a deep breath. "Poppy, if it's something important, then please tell me," she said, trying to stay calm.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Minerva, that girl is pregnant."

"What?" asked Professor McGonagall. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"No possibility of mistake?"

"No."

"How do you know?"

"I checked it twice," said Madam Pomfrey.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Okay. That's big news to give that girl. We have to be absolutely sure about it. Did she have any clue?"

"I don't know, I don't think so. She just came into the Hospital Wing this very morning complaining of a stomach ache and some sickness. But she was fine," said Madam Pomfrey slowly.

"Okay, okay," repeated Professor McGonagall. "We have to tell her. We have to call her to my office," she said, standing up.

"When? Now?" asked Madam Pomfrey, standing up as well.

"Yes – no – what's the time?" she replied.

"A quarter to midnight," said Madam Pomfrey, checking the clock on the wall. "Maybe we should talk to her tomorrow," she suggested.

"Yes, you are right. Tomorrow morning in my office. Can you come, Poppy?" she asked her.

"Yes, Minerva," she said, sighing. "See you tomorrow, then."

"At nine in the morning, Poppy," Professor McGonagall cried after her while she disappeared out of her office.

---

"Rachel, are you all right?"

Rachel took her chocolaty eyes away from her scrambled eggs and looked at her cousin. "I'm fine, Allyson," she said, smiling.

"What did Madam Pomfrey tell you yesterday?" Allyson asked her.

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing, she just took some of my blood and said that she'll check out what I had yesterday morning."

"When are you going to know?" Allyson asked her cousin seriously.

"I don't know. I guess that if I have something, she'll call me as soon as she finds out," Rachel said matter-of-factly.

Allyson nodded, then brushed away a lock of black hair from her green eyes and looked at her plate. "You know," she started after a while. "Mum was a little bit disappointed that I wasn't made prefect this year. Last year she was so happy that you became one."

Rachel smiled. "I know. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry sent me a letter, saying that I was exactly like my parents."

"Yep, that also means that you fly terribly," teased Allyson.

Rachel glared at her. "As if I mind," she said after a while, "Anyway, what are you going to do to prepare for your O.W.L.s?"

Allyson looked at her with her eyes wide open. "What am I gonna do for my O.W.L.s? Rachel, school started two months ago."

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "Last year was the hardest year I've ever had. The exams are terrible. You should prepare yourself and study harder than before and-"

"Sorry, Rachel, can I have your eggs?"

Rachel looked at her plate, which had mysteriously appeared on the other side of the table.

"Malcolm!" cried Rachel to her fifteen-year-old brother. "Can't you take your own breakfast?"

"You weren't eating anymore and I'm late," he said, jamming big pieces of eggs into his mouth.

"I'm still hungry," she replied.

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "Are you? Well, then you should thank me. I won't let you have indigestion."

"You little, stupid, arrogant brother," she said, picking out her wand.

"Rachel, what are you going to do?" asked Allyson, seizing her arm.

"Kill my brother," she said angrily.

"Just for the eggs?" Allyson countered, concerned.

"She is crazy," said Malcolm, swallowing the last piece of egg and finishing Rachel's milk.

"Rachel, calm down. Malcolm, go to your class," said Allyson hastily.

"Which goes the same for you, so you should hurry up, although Professor Slughorn will give you detention anyway – oh, no, wait," he said, slapping his forehead with his palm, "You are in his Slug Club, aren't you? Like my sister, two nice little slugs we have here."

Allyson looked at Malcolm and let go of Rachel's arm. "Okay, Rachel, kill him."

But Rachel didn't do anything. She wasn't even looking at them anymore. She was gazing at the other side of the Great Hall, towards the Slytherin table. Allyson waved a hand in front of her, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"You know that you were looking at the Slytherin table, don't you?" asked Allyson, raising her eyebrows.

"What? No, I wasn't," she answered quickly. "I was just staring at the wall," she muttered, turning as red as her hair.

Her brother raised his eyebrows as well and exchanged a look with Allyson. They both looked at the Slytherin table and saw that Emeric Malfoy was staring towards them and he looked away quickly when he spotted them.

"Okay, that's creepy," said Malcolm, pretending to shiver. "Malfoy was looking at us."

Rachel turned redder than before and stood up. "I have to go. I have Defence Against the Dark Arts in five minutes. And you should go, too," she said, storming out of the Great Hall.

Allyson and Malcolm shrugged their shoulders and muttered something like 'prefects', then walked away and headed for the dungeons, where a couple of hours with the Hufflepuffs awaited them.

Rachel, in the meantime, reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and sat down on the first desk.

"Good morning, Professor Lupin," she said politely. Lupin looked up from the paper he was reading.

"Good morning, Rachel," he answered, smiling. "How are you? I heard that you went to the Hospital Wing yesterday."

"Yes, but it was nothing serious," she said. "What are you going to do today?"

"Dementors," answered Professor Lupin.

"That should be interesting," she said quickly.

"Indeed, Rachel," answered Professor Lupin. "You know your uncle Harry had to fight against the Dementors lots of-"

"Rachel."

A small, second-year Gryffindor with curly red hair and blue eyes came running towards her.

"Daniel, what are you doing here? You should have Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall," Rachel said to her brother.

Daniel stopped for a minute. It was already incredible that she knew her own timetable by heart, but it was extraordinary that she also remembered the ones of her brothers and her cousins.

"Yeah, well, Professor McGonagall said that this morning's lesson has been cancelled. And she gave me this for you," he said, giving his sister a piece of parchment.

Rachel opened it and mentally read the lines that Professor McGonagall sent her.

"Good morning, Professor Lupin," said Daniel at that moment.

"Good morning, Daniel," answered Lupin.

"She wants to see me in her office," she said, frowning. "Professor Lupin, can I-?"

"Since I have never heard of a time that Professor McGonagall has cancelled a lesson, I think that you should definitely go," said Professor Lupin seriously.

"Thanks," she said, picking up her books and walking out of the classroom, without a clue about what the Headmistress had to tell her.

"Can I come with you?" asked her brother, catching up with her.

"No," she said, still walking.

"But I'm your brother," he protested.

"And so? Maybe it's something boring. She'll probably want to talk to me about my Prefect duties," Rachel answered.

Daniel looked disappointed. "Uh, okay, then – see you later."

Rachel nodded, turned the piece of parchment upside down in her hands and looked down at it to read the password. "Switching Spell," she said to the gargoyle statue. The stairs started to move towards the top of the tower and she started to climb up.

She knocked on the door and took a deep breath while she waited for the Headmistress to answer.