Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5670859.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Gen
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Ginny_Weasley, Hermione_Granger/Ron_Weasley, Fleur_Delacour/
      Bill_Weasley, Arthur_Weasley/Molly_Weasley, Audrey_Weasley/Percy_Weasley,
      Angelina_Johnson/George_Weasley, Teddy_Lupin/Victoire_Weasley, Scorpius
      Malfoy/Rose_Weasley
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Ginny_Weasley, Ron_Weasley, Hermione_Granger, Bill_Weasley,
      Fleur_Delacour, Charlie_Weasley, James_Sirius_Potter, Albus_Potter, Lily
      Luna_Potter, Luna_Lovegood, Rolf_Scamander, George_Weasley, Angelina
      Johnson, Scorpius_Malfoy, OC_-_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Mentions_of_JSP_exploits, Over_the_age_of_consent_in_the_UK, but_underage
  Collections:
      Smutty_Claus_Exchange
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-01-09 Completed: 2016-07-31 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 11824
****** Christmas Crackers ******
by divagonzo
Summary
     A spontaneous moment brings great tidings for the Potter family,
     along with a few bludgers along the way.
Notes
     One-shot. Complete. Follow-up with Dance with Somebody. Originally
     written for the 2015 Smutty Claus fest on LJ. My thanks to A for the
     lovely (and rather intensive) edit and beta, along with the
     britpicking of UK shoe sizes. Rated M/NC-17 for first and last
     sections of the story.
***** Chapter 1 *****
===============================================================================
Ginny sat up in the bed, breathing frantically into the cool evening air. Those
brown eyes from her childhood still haunted her at the worst opportune times,
like this morning. She reached a hand out and felt piping hot skin under her
fingertips, rising and falling in a slow cadence of peaceful sleep.
Harry slept well, now that he was working as a Director in the department.
Rarely was he haunted from the cases of his past, or present, to interfere with
his sleep. Rarely was he awoken by a nightmare, garden variety or a slitty red
eyed fiend variety.
Ginny reached further down his back and felt the curve of his arse along with
the hair under her fingertips. Impulsively and without a moment’s shame, she
squeezed his arse and felt the muscles twitch and contract.
“I’m being a twit. I don’t need Harry to shag me to make it better. Riddle’s
been dead for decades.”
Ginny let him go, earning a snore in reply before rolling out of the bed and
quietly padding to their en suite. She closed the door behind her so she
wouldn’t wake him up too early. A quick flick of her wand at the tray of
scented candles bloomed to illuminated life, giving warmth in their small
bathroom. Lavender mixed with vanilla to make a pleasing scent, one that was
comforting from the stresses of the day, either from children or making
deadlines for her Quidditch articles.
Ginny looked at herself in the mirror and considered the ramifications of being
40 with three kids off at Hogwarts. Considering what they went through, her and
her spouse, who was still her lover, partner, and best friend, it was quite
enjoyable. Her hair still enraptured her husband. No matter what, from spooning
in bed to their routine morning hug before he tucked into his eggs and toast
with a cuppa, he had to hug her and take a languorous sniff of her hair.
At least if she didn’t contemplate the number of hidden grey hairs on her
shagged out scalp and elsewhere on her 40 year old body. There were handfuls of
other vain complaints, from the scars of 20 years ago, or the wrinkles on her
face, arms, and stomach. The scars from her childhood and her youth mostly
faded into her fourth decade of life, only noticeable under her intense
scrutiny.
Ginny ran her hands over her body, watching it jiggle under the harsh light.
The hips had spread, given her pregnancies years gone past. The breasts sagged,
but not as bad as some of her friends talked about. They weren’t as pert as she
was at 18, but they weren’t down to her knees either, unlike Mum had at the
roughly same age. But her time spent keeping fit while the children were off at
school benefited her tremendously. She could still run a stairs lap at Holyhead
under eight minutes and could run a kilometer on the pitch in under seven.
Forty didn’t mean that she was a haggard hippogriff ready to retire to greener
pastures.
Writing it off as a bad job at half five in the morning, she reached for the
taps on their tub, drawing a hot bath to wash away the remnants of the
nightmare still bouncing around in her head like a rogue bludger. The hot water
and scent from the candles would help dispel the nightmares of almost 30 years
past, shoved deep into a cavern in her mind and locked away by the fury a
raging 11 year old mustered in righteous anger.
Ginny reached for the bath beads that Luna introduced her to, taking another
glorious sniff at the pleasant odors that wafted from the box. More lavender,
vanilla, jasmine, and another slightly pungent scent boiled over the moment the
beads melted in the hot water, leaving bubbles growing to the top of the
clawfoot tub.
Ginny stepped in and turned off the taps. Water dripped for a second before
ceasing, releasing steam into their older bathroom. With a tap of her wand, the
water heated further, almost to skin scalding temperatures. But she needed it
sometimes. Some mornings, especially after energetic lovemaking the night
before, her body ached from Quidditch, war injuries, more Quidditch, and
children.
She slid in, basking in the piping hot warmth she rarely had growing up. Being
a mum to three of her own, and looking after a fourth, occasionally, taught her
again the importance of hot water and time for a bath.
The warmth soothed aching hips that Harry pounded into their mattress last
night after the Ministry Halloween party. Libations flowed and they partook of
the festivities. Ginny drank one Firewhiskey, quickly followed by a second
while talking Quidditch gossip with Ron, Angelina, and George while Harry kept
to elf-made wine and was cornered into a passionate discussion with Percy and
Hermione in another corner over some ongoing case.
Finally, out on the dance floor, Mum and Dad danced the night away without a
care in the world. It was quite lovely to see them still crackers over one
another, going on fifty plus years of marriage.
Eventually, she dragged Harry out onto the floor for two songs, dancing to make
the parents and the younger ministry employees’ blush until they made a very
hasty exit from the festivities.
The moment they arrived home turned passionate. It was softer words, loving
kisses, plenty of intimacy and less rough actions. It meant minutes of
foreplay, using hands and lips and taking more than thirty seconds to go from
clothed to shagging like hippogriffs in heat.
Forty meant fucking lasted more than four minutes.
She settled into the tub, sinking deeper, leaving her face out of the water but
immersing the rest of her. The tub was a special purchase, when they renovated
their bathroom after Albus was born. She insisted on a larger tub, where she
could relax from time to time. Too bad it was mostly used the first few years
bathing the boys at the same time.
Knock Knock.
Ginny sat up immediately, spitting out soapy water that flew up her nose. Harry
stuck his head into the loo and saw her sputtering.
“Fall asleep in here?”
“I just closed my eyes but I guess I did. What time is it?”
“Half six.”
“Bugger.” Ginny stood up and let the water dribble down her curvy body. She
reached into the tub to pull the stopper, feeling the water rushing past her
tattooed ankles and green painted toes.
Harry leaned into the vanity behind him, rubbing the morning stiffy jutting out
from his lithe body.
“Again? I thought shagging me ‘til my hips popped last night would have worn
your cock out.”
“Does this look worn out?” He grabbed the shaft and waggled it at Ginny.
She giggled then caught herself. “Still gagging for me, Mr. Potter?”
Harry stepped into the tub and turned on the taps and turned the knob for the
spigot to the shower. Steaming hot water drenched his body instantly, leaving
his bright green myopic eyes and sleep-tousled hair untouched.
“I look at you and I think I’m 18 with an insatiable appetite and no stamina.”
His strong hands landed on her hips, pulling her close onto his very hot body.
He leaned over but she kissed him first, relishing the strength in his hands
and the hot throbbing length twitching at her stomach. “I need a shower but I
want to shag you before I go into the office.”
“What’s gotten into you, Harry? We’ve not had sex within twelve hours since the
kids were little.”
“Gotten into me? I slept.” Harry blinked and looked bedraggled since he left
his glasses on the vanity. “If I might remind you, I’m still mad over you.
Completely mental. Utterly crackers. For you, my wife.”
She sighed, somewhat dramatically. “Harry, I know you’re as blind as an elderly
dragon, but let me tell you this: I’ve got wrinkles on my neck, stretch marks
on my hips where I can’t shed this last fifteen pounds no matter how hard I
try, hair on my arse, liver spots on my hands, and this morning, I saw grey
hair on my fanny.
“But then I see you standing here, in all your naked glory, and wonder how the
hell that you’re still completely barmy for me.”
“I learned from your parents.” Harry’s hands roamed over her steam kissed body,
relishing that the gooseflesh was breaking out where his calloused fingertips
touched. He used one finger to lift her chin higher, ducking under it to kiss
both sides of her neck, working up to her earlobes before nibbling gently on
them. “I look at you and see so much more than just wrinkles. I see a head that
witnessed horrors that would break others yet you stood up to it. I see a neck
that was proud yet determined, refusing to yield while standing steadfast in
protecting children. I see a back that refused to break under such hardships
and tyranny.
“And your hips,” his hands dropped down to the curve of her hips, enjoying the
flesh under his fingertips, “these hips held our children for nine months, then
carried them for even longer. As for the extra pounds that won’t go away,” he
rubbed his still patient cock over her belly, “the better for cushioning when I
make love to you in the morning over the side of our tub.”
“You really want another leg over before you go into the office?”
“I do. I don’t care if you have hair I can’t see on your arse or grey hair on
your fanny. What I do care about is that I love you so much that I want to make
love to you again.”
Ginny lifted her left leg and rubbed it up and down his hip, letting his hands
drift down to her quim where the mythical grey hairs were. “You know, we can
even skip the round of catch the snitch this morning since you have to be into
work shortly.”
“Don’t have to work hard for it this morning.” He turned her around and dropped
to his knees in the charmed hot water. “It’s here, on your hairy freckled
arse.” He kissed her right cheek, followed by the left.
Ginny dropped to her knees in the tub and found her favorite spot, in the
corner where she could rest her elbows easily while keeping her arse in the air
- almost like flying on her broom, but much more energetic.
“No foreplay?”
“Do I feel like I need foreplay?”
He reached her swollen slit and found her already sodden, even without his
loving caresses. “Blimey, you are.” He ran the head of his cock over her slit,
stroking a few times to get even harder.
“I rather have a quick leg over. I have to be in Ballycastle at 10am for the
media session. I’ll probably be there ‘til 4pm then home where I can make you
dinner.”
He slid into his wife and held still. Every time he made love to his wife felt
like he was coming home. Only she made his cock twitch, not that other witches
and a few wizards didn’t try to entice him. Only his wife of almost 20 years
continued to fascinate and intrigue him. She was the only one who could stand
toe to toe with him, whether he was in a fit of temper and needing to fight
tooth and nail, or cuddle him when the anger that swirled in his soul burned
down to embers again. Only she could comfort him when the ghosts of his past
haunted his nightmares.
No one else could compare, not to his lovely wife. She’d captured his heart and
soul by being herself.
“Get lost back there, Potter? Need a map, or set of instructions?”
Harry thrust hard into his wife, burying himself bollocks deep. “I know your
body better than you do.”
She moaned in delight. “Fair point. Don’t stop on my account. You can keep
going, love.”
He thrust again, setting a comfortable pace yet hard enough to leave the tops
of her hips slightly bruised. “Oh I will. Day I stop shagging you is the day
you put me out to pasture,” he kept going before moving a hand around her
thighs. “Doesn’t matter how I make love to you, it’s always wonderful: in the
tub, the bed, or over the back of the couch.”
“Well, maybe that time we were interrupted - “
“Hush you. This is my reminiscing. As I was saying,” He laughed and caught a
mouthful of hot shower water, making him cough out hot shower water.
Ginny smiled. “Haven’t I ever told you to watch where you’re laughing?”
He spit water again before pulling her hard onto his hips, feeling every curve
and muscle under her skin contract. “Not done with you yet, am I?” He snaked
his hand through her trimmed bush to her very bereft clit and rubbed hard. “And
you told me you love it when I laugh into your quim.”
“‘Bout time you got around to that,” She growled. Her hips swirled on his cock
and she fluttered some, all without him breaking his grinding of his thumb into
her clit. “Now hurry up so we can get breakfast. I’m starving.”
“Damn Weasley appetites.” Harry moved her hips wider, nestling in deeper but
also where he could stroke her bundle of nerves on every downstroke. “But
you’re coming first.”
“But you’re coming with me,” she begged. Her thighs tensed and her arse
quivered, so he ground into her, letting his pubic bone do the work of his
hands. They strayed to her breasts, twisting and tweaking the nipples to drive
her even wilder. Ginny reached for her clit and put her hand over his, rubbing
harder than Harry usually did.
“How many you want this morning, Mrs. Potter?”
She mashed his hand into her clit and squeezed his cock before moaning and
drenching him in her juices. He kept going, riding her orgasm like she’d taught
him years ago. She squealed harder when he kept his fingers pressed into her
sensitive flesh, squeezing her clit a second time.
“Two in a row? Talk about a good morning,” Harry muttered. “Want a third?” He
said into the skin of her back.
“Easily, Harry,” Ginny panted and felt him getting tense under her. She rubbed
and he moved his hands from her hips and fanny to her breasts, squeezing them
while kissing steam from her back and felt her clamp down hard on him again.
“Shite,” He growled and pulled her hard onto his cock, feeling the band grow
painfully tight.
“Come for me, Harry. One more,” She begged.
“Ginny,” He moaned and felt the band in his bollocks snap, blowing spunk all
inside his wife. Harry held still, still sheathed inside his wife, while he
tried to remember how to breathe again.
“You alive back there, Potter?”
“No.”
“Smug bastard. I want breakfast and you need to tidy before going into the
office.”
“And you sound like your Mum with eight other kids in the house and one
shower,” Harry cheeked while pulling out of his wife, watching his cock slowly
wither away from impressive to non-existent. “I’ve not been late for work in
months.”
“It’s because the kids haven’t pranked the Floo powder on the fireplace since
they went off to school, you git.” Ginny stood up from the tub and rubbed her
knees. “Blimey, can we put some cushioning charms on the tub so that doesn’t
hurt so much?”
Harry reached for the soap in the dish, slapping his wife on the bum. “Sure we
can. Are you planning on us shagging more in here? It’d make sense for safety
and comfort if you need it.”
Ginny stepped out of the tub and looked her husband once again. “No matter
what, you’ll always be older than I am.”
“And you’re the one who said ‘Marry me’!”
Ginny laughed while she toweled off. “Your eyes are still spectacular, even if
they don’t work worth a damn.”
“Who needs working eyes when I have a working wand and calloused fingers?
Didn’t you tell me that the first year we were shagging?”
“Prat,” She laughed before tossing the towel into the shower curtain, hitting
him in the midsection. “Tea and breakfast will be ready when you come down.”
===============================================================================
Ginny sat at the small table in their breakfast room, tapping her fingers on
the tabletop. Harry was late coming home from work and she was growing
impatient. He’d been stuck on a case the last couple of weeks, working late and
going into the office early. He’d been diligent about sending owls home to her,
informing her of what was going on but he only came home for changes of clothes
and occasionally sleeping.
Life was spinning fast again but this time she wasn’t on a broom to catch her.
Throw in that it was their anniversary next week and she was hard up to not
tell him, even if he was half asleep at 2am. At least Quidditch was going on
break for a couple of weeks in the English League. Then again, her editor might
send her to Cairo for the Mediterranean matches, held every Christmas in Egypt.
“Mrs. Potter? I’m home!”
Harry stepped into their kitchen, covered in ash and sporting even more grey
hair at his temples. His robes were well cut, suited for his thin yet powerful
frame, even now. “Dinner smells fantastic. Is that chicken stew?”
Ginny stood up from her chair, trying to hide the small smile on her face. “It
is. You eat entirely too much takeaway while you’re on a case. It can’t be all
that healthy for you.”
“I’m a Director. It’s not like I can pop home for Lunch with you, can I? You
remember how many hours a day Robards was in his office, coordinating so many
people when a case was wide open.” Harry put aside his satchel and over-cloak
and found the steaming pot of tea. He poured a cup and added a small spoon of
sugar.
“I do send lunch with you. Is it not enough?”
“It is when I’m only at the office for nine hours and have time to take a
break. When I’m there eighteen hours it’s not enough.”
Ginny handed the bowl to him, along with a couple of slices of homemade
wholemeal bread. “Go on and tuck in. I know you’re knackered.”
“Aren’t you eating?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Harry shoved the spoon into his mouth and moaned in delight. “It’s so good.
Here, have a bite!” He lifted his spoon to her, intending to share.
Ginny turned a fine shade of green before bolting from the room, slamming a
door on the small loo off the front hallway. Disgusting sounds drifted out,
giving Harry pause. He put down his spoon and bowl and went to tend his wife.
She was kneeling on the ground, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand,
while her hair was disheveled over her face.
“Love, did you catch a virus from someone at the office?” Harry ran the tap
with cool water, handing a wet flannel to her where she could wipe her face and
neck. “How long have you been sick?”
Ginny looked up from the toilet, looking considerably pale, and tried to smile,
feeling it coming across like a grimace. “It’s been about three weeks,
actually.”
“Three weeks? I’m taking you to St. Mungo’s tonight and having a word with the
Healers. That’s rubbish! No virus lasts that long.”
“It’s not virus, Harry, and St. Mungo’s knows. They’ve known for two weeks
now.”
“You’re not making a bit of sense tonight.”
Ginny stood from the ground and went to the tap, collecting cold water to rinse
her mouth out. Harry stood silently while she did her absolutions. She finished
and saw him standing there, silent and waiting on her to speak up.
Ginny looked through the mirror to see concern etched on his face. “Harry, when
was the last time I was sick like this?”
His face was blank, for what seemed minutes, until realization dawned on him.
He broke into a smile, one that only she saw at his happiest moments. “Really?
You really are? This isn’t a prank or a gag. You’re really pregnant.”
“I wouldn’t lie about this, Harry. I might take the piss with George and Ron
but not with you. It’s too important.”
Harry picked her up and spun her around in the tiny bathroom, bumping her into
the walls and vanity.
“Put me down, Harry!” she squeaked when he bumped her arse into the vanity a
third time.
“Sorry, got carried away.” He did as she asked and sat down on the toilet
cover. “How far along are you?”
“The Healer said about 8 weeks. I’m guessing it was either the night of the
Ministry party, on Halloween, or the morning after in the bathtub.”
“Slow down a tic. That night, or the next morning? I thought you were taking a
potion.” His face changed to outright confusion. “Or did I forget to do the
charms?”
“Both of us were pretty pissed at the party, with you thick as thieves with
Percy and Hermione while I was talking with Ron and George. I only remember
coming home and you fell on me like a troll, fucking me for all you're worth.
You came then passed out but I woke a few hours later before we had that very
rare shag in the shower.”
Harry’s eyes went wider and brighter. “Dad, again, at 41. Bet this is how my
Grandparents felt. Have you told anyone else yet?”
“Nope. No one. It didn’t feel right to tell anyone else until you knew. So,
Happy Early Anniversary, love. I’m supposedly due around your birthday, if I
make it that far. So here’s your very early Birthday present, dear.”
Harry put his hands on her stomach while trying to fight back tears. “You’re
pregnant. We made a baby.” A few tears leaked out and he refused to wipe them
from his face.
“It’s not the first time.” Ginny lifted her husband’s face to hers, wiping them
before kissing each cheek. “But it might be the last.”
“I don’t care. It’s still special. We have another little Potter to think
about.”
“And the other three are going to be beastly about it.”
Harry’s frown appeared. “You think?”
Ginny walked out of their bathroom and back into the breakfast room. She pulled
her wand and put a bubblehead charm over his stew. “Sorry but I can’t smell
that, not without getting sick.”
“How’d you make it then?”
“Same thing while I was cooking it.” She shrugged. “Anyway, James is 18 and in
his last year at Hogwarts. Al’s 16 and a Prefect. Lily is 13 and playing
Quidditch already, earlier than I ever did. Do you think they are going to be
excited that they have a baby sibling on the way, and us caring for another
baby - and not listening to their drama on a weekly or nightly basis? I
honestly think they are going to go spare.”
“You should give them some credit. They won’t be too barmy about having a baby
sibling to deal with.” Harry tore the pieces of bread into his stew before
tucking back in.
“And you’ve completely forgotten how Lily went mental this summer when Victorie
had her baby at Easter? She wanted nothing to do with Victorie ‘til your
birthday, once Astarte was born.” Ginny sat across from Harry while keeping her
wand twirling, swirling the air away from her.
“How about I tell Lily instead? She might be better if I told her instead of
you.”
“There’s going to be a screaming match either way, Harry. She’s not going to be
the baby anymore and that’s going to upset her. I rather her get mad at me than
you since she loves you more.”
“That’s not true. She loves you as much as she does me.” Harry smirked. “Ok. So
what about the other two? Think they are going to be barmy as well?”
“Nah. James won’t mind. He’s got eyes for his girlfriend and taking a gap year
abroad with Fred once he’s finished with Hogwarts. He’s not going to be all
that shirty. Al? I dunno. He might be sweet about it or he could brood like you
would.”
“Mum and Dad?”
“Oh, they’ll cry as usual. But I don’t want to ask them to babysit now, not
more than an occasional day.”
Harry took his bowl and spoon to the sink and set it to wash. “Ron? I’m sure
he’d help.” Harry came back to the table.
Ginny reached for his hands and held them still. “I’ll take a year off from
writing and stay home this time. The Prophet can do without me a spell. But we
have time to figure things out.”
“Speaking of, when are our Hooligans coming home?”
“They’ll be home next weekend, four days before Christmas and two days before
our Anniversary. I have dinner planned for us.” She wiped her eyes again and
tidied up the table.
“This Christmas will be completely mental. How do we tell our kids that they
are going to have a much younger baby sibling?”
Ginny sat dumbstruck. “Did we bother to tell the others when I got pregnant?”
“I’m sure we did. The only reason we told the kids first was that James kept
stepping on your stomach and Al cried every time you were sick. We told Mum and
Dad at Sunday brunch then everything went mental.”
“Same thing then? Tell the kids first then the rest of the family?’’ The dishes
finished washing and Ginny got up to dry them before putting them away.
“That sounds fine. Who should the Godparents be this time?” Harry reached up to
put away the platter on the top shelf.
Ginny stepped into her husband’s arms and put her head on his chest. “We’ve got
time to figure that one out. And there will be time, again, with everything
going on.”
“Sorted. First thing will be telling the kids.”
“At home the first night over dinner?”
“Sure. That’ll be the plan.”
===============================================================================
Harry opened the front door to their residence and three kids barreled in past
him, shoving trunks into the front closet. James immediately turned to head
back out the door.
“James, where are you going?”
“Sorry, Dad, but I’ve got a date tonight. Don’t worry! I’ll be back before
tomorrow morning,” He yelled from the front steps and took off at a sprint up
the street, sliding by his father’s outstretched arm.
Ginny looked around the living room and saw no sign of Albus. “Al? Where are
you?”
“He left already.”
Ginny and Harry turned towards Lily who was digging in her trunk. “He did?”
“Yeah. When James escaped, Al Flooed over to Rose’s house. They were going to
collect Scorpius then going to a concert in Diagon Alley. He said don’t wait up
since Teddy is chaperoning them.”
“But he’s not been home five minutes!” Ginny exclaimed. “I’d planned a sit-down
dinner with the family since you lot have been off at school!”
“Sorry Mum,” she shrugged. “I need to visit with Uncle George. I have to ask
him about one of his products.”
“Are you still pranking that irritating Ravenclaw that won’t leave you alone?”
“Of course I am. I can’t let that sod - “
“Watch your mouth.”
“Sorry, Mum, but I’m not letting that prat get the best of me. I need something
epic so she’ll leave me alone.”
“Go on then. Come home before 10.” Lily picked out a handful of Floo powder
from the container on the mantle and disappeared into swirling flames, on her
way to George and Angelina’s cottage and more mischief than her uncles ever got
into.
“So much for that bright idea,” Ginny whined. She made her way towards the
kitchen. Harry followed her into the kitchen and threw a kettle on the stove.
“At least we have some quiet time tonight.” Harry knelt down to the cabinet to
pull out a bottle of wine they had in storage. “Oh, right, you can’t have any.
So I better put this back.”
“But it was supposed to be the night we told the kids.” Ginny sat down in her
chair, finding a facial tissue to wipe her eyes with. “You’d think our kids
would be obedient once, on such an important day.”
“And they’ll just have to hear it with the rest of the family Wednesday at
Percy’s place.” Harry sat down next to her and put her hand in his. “You’re not
alone in this. I’m there with you.” He put his other hand on her stomach, even
if it was entirely too soon for the child’s movement to be noticed.
“So who is doing what?”
“Oh, you know Mum. She’s running the kitchen and drafting all of us to help
somehow, even if it’s Audrey’s house. She’ll set all of you setting the table
and having us running food out and back…. you know how Christmas dinner is.”
“And with our little fiends, it’ll take more than one to keep us from burning
Percy’s house down.”
“That’ll probably be Lily, once she gets the news.” Ginny sighed dramatically
before running for the bathroom.
===============================================================================
“Weasley Family,” Harry yelled in the front foyer of Percy and Audrey’s
expansive home. “Weasley family!”
Ginny stepped into the residence with the kids in town, including a very
petulant James.
“This is pointless. I dunno why I have to be here.”
“Al, Lily, please go in to speak with Gramma before we get busy enough in the
kitchen.”
The kids wandered off, leaving Ginny and James in the front foyer. “In there,
now,” Ginny growled at her oldest son. He stalked off into the formal living
room, surrounded by antique and heirloom furnishings left to Percy and Audrey
by Muriel and Audrey’s grandmother Qiaohui.
“What is wrong with you? You’ve been a prat to me and your father since you
came home and I want to know what is going on?”
“Just drop it, alright? I’m here and that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” He
refused to look down the seven inches towards his mum’s face. “It’s not like
you asked what I had planned.”
“Don’t you sass me. Just because you’re of age now doesn’t mean that I will
tolerate your shirty attitude.”
“My shirty attitude? Since we left the train station Saturday you’ve been on my
arse every single minute I’ve been awake.”
“Rubbish, since you’ve barely been home since term ended.” Ginny stood defiant
against her son.
“So quit riding my arse trying to control my life.” He stormed out of the room
and further into the house.
Ginny made her way upstairs to the spare loo and closed the door. The moment
the door latch clicked, she erupted in heaving sobs, leaving her a mess. Each
one tore at her ribs and made her stomach ache with nausea, even if there was
little to nothing in there since breakfast. James acting like a toerag and git,
of all days, made the day so much worse.
Knock Knock
“I’m in here. I’ll be out in minute.”
Ginny pulled the wand tucked up her sleeve, trying to conceal the smudges of
her eye shadow and wipe away the smudged make-up on her face. Hermione slipped
into the bathroom and closed the door.
“Bee in your bonnet, dear?”
Ginny performed the concealing charms for her eyes, hiding the puffy darkness
under them. “James is being a git and I’m emotional. I’m probably about to
start and it’s making me a mess.”
“Well, when you’re ready, come downstairs. Molly said she could use some help
with the preparations.”
“Of course she did. It’ll be a minute then I’ll be down. Just keep an eye on my
children so they don’t burn down Percy’s house. Oh, and Hermione?”
“Yes?”
“Cover that love bite on your neck, wouldya?”
Hermione grinned. “Will do,” Hermione replied before leaving the bathroom.
Ginny finished the charms on her face and straightened her jumper. Harry would
know she was upset. He could read her across the room. Hermione probably would
but would keep quiet - at least until she admitted she’d lied to Hermione.
‘Maybe she’ll forgive this one, once she understands why. Bet a Galleon Luna
knows before I announce it.’Ginny said to herself.
Ginny opened the door and made her way downstairs in the cottage to the
kitchen, which was considerably larger than Mum’s. Nine other Weasley women
were in the kitchen helping prepare Christmas Dinner and getting under each
other’s feet, much less having the room for their own tasks.
“Ah, there you are. Can you make a bread pudding?” Molly pointed her wooden
spoon across the room at her and Ginny picked up a bread knife for the stale
loaf on the cutting board. “Oh, and Rolf requested a pan of bread and butter
pudding, too.” Ginny went to work, fighting to keep the nausea she felt from
overwhelming her in the hot confines of the kitchen.
She finished quickly and escaped to the expansive parlour where the men had a
Quidditch match on the Wireless and the older kids were sitting quietly on the
other end of the room, looking at their new model Weasley Mirrors. Only Luna
sat quiet with Astarte, Victorie’s daughter, with Lily sitting next to her,
talking Luna’s ears off.
“Harry, a moment?”
He broke off his conversation with Ron and followed his wife into the front
foyer, away from the distracted kids. “Alright there Ginny?”
“No. James is being a git and I’m too hormonal to deal with his attitude.”
“I’ll deal with him when we get home tonight. I don’t want to cause a scene
with the whole family during Christmas dinner.”
Ginny laid her head on her husband’s shoulder, feeling his strong arms
encapsulate her. “It wasn’t this hard the last time,” She lamented into his
jumper.
Harry chuckled quietly. “Thank Merlin you have memory issues. It was harder.
It’s only now that we have teenagers that they are giving us cheek. After he
moves out you’ll wish he was home every night. He’ll be too busy for his
parents then.”
“You still want to do that, have him move out?”
“He’ll want to of his own choosing. Do you think he’s going to want to live
with us next year, out of school and hopefully in a career with a toddler in
the house? He’d go barmy the first week.”
“Hey you,” Bill stuck his head in. “Dinner’s on the table.” Bill left
immediately at Fleur’s quiet yet insistent conversation with him.
“I think I was more nervous telling Mum about our elopement than this.”
“We’ll get through it.” Harry took her hand in his and they made their way to
the formal dining room. “And maybe this time we’ll get through it with less
shouting.”
They entered the room and everyone else was seated, save Molly and Audrey who
were bringing the last platters out from the kitchen. Dad sat at the head of
the table, with Bill and Fleur on one side with Percy and an empty seat for
Audrey next to him. Lucy and Molly were squeezed in next to their parents, with
Teddy and Victorie, along with Dominique across the table. Louis was absent yet
again, working with Medicines Magique sans Frontiers, this time in Madagascar.
Charlie and a friend, Sandu, were sitting on the other side, talking work and
the adventures at the Dragon preserve.
Across from Charlie was George and Angelina, with Fred and Roxy, each decked
out in hideous Christmas jumpers that were the rage in Paris this year,
discussing Fred’s employment options and Roxy’s interest in Parisian fashion
for the spring.
Harry took his seat, next to James who sat next to Fred so they could talk the
entire meal, while Ginny had Al and Lily between them. They were across from
Ron and Hermione, who had their kids along with a very quiet Scorpius Malfoy in
the middle. Next to Hermione was Luna, sitting across from her twin sons who
were talking animatedly with Hugo across the table. Luna had on her Weasley
headphones, a new invention she was trying out based on the extendible ears
Ron, George, and Fred developed so she could hear the entire table without
missing out on the conversation with Rolf and Hermione on the end. Rolf sat
quietly on the end, listening to his wife and Hermione discussing non-wizarding
creature rights – and offering up his own suggestions occasionally.
Ginny looked at Harry and he mouthed, ‘whenever’ to her inquiry before picking
up a platter of stewed carrots. More dishes were passed and Ginny took a small
helping of a few things that might not upset her stomach.
She glanced Luna’s way and saw her dearest friend smiling before turning back
to her plate, breaking out into a loon quality grin.
‘Damn Luna knowing already,’ Ginny thought.
She cleared her throat loudly, garnering attention from the rest of the people
present at Christmas dinner. “Harry and I have an announcement to make.”
The entire table went silent, waiting on Ginny.
“I’m pregnant.”
There was a pregnant pause in the room.
“I’m about ten weeks along, according to the Healers. We don’t know if it’s a
boy or a girl, or if there’s just one. We’re leaving it a surprise.” No one
breathed a word. “If everything goes smoothly, the baby will be born probably
around Harry’s birthday.”
“Another Weasley baby. Wow.” George spoke up first. “Can you name the child
Fleamont if it’s a boy?” Angelina cuffed him on the arm. “Ow. Congrats. What
about Euphamia? Ow damn it! Stop!” as Angelia cuffed him again.
Ginny looked up the table to her parents. Molly was wiping her eyes with the
handkerchief from her apron, muttering about another precious grandbaby. Dad
looked a little misty eyed, too.
“You’re pregnant? Merlin’s manky socks!” James erupted next. “Oh that’s
rubbish! You’re like, old. You’re not supposed to do those things. You’re
supposed to sit and work out cross-word puzzles or play cribbage, not shag and
make babies!”
Ginny’s temper flared. “I’m not old, James. I can outrun your lazy arse any
day.”
“Apologize to your Mum, now,” Harry erupted. “You will not disrespect her, when
it’s a time to celebrate.”
“Sod this,” James stood up from the table.
“Sit down, now.” Arthur exploded at his grandson. James promptly dropped back
into his chair. “Apologize to your parents, now, or there will be
consequences.” His remaining hair seemed to stand on end but the fire in his
eyes said otherwise.
“Sorry,” he muttered into the tabletop. He barely glanced up at his grandfather
before speaking louder, “I said it was sorry.”
“I’ll deal with you when we get home,” Harry growled. “I dunno what’s gotten
into you this Christmas hols, but I will end it tonight.”
“Yes, sir.” James refused to look up from the table, even with Fred desperately
trying to get his attention.
“You’re really pregnant?” Al asked quietly.
“Yes dear, I am.” Ginny said.
“I won’t have to share my room, will I?”
“No,” James replied bitterly. “They said once I’m done at Hogwarts, I’m out.
I’ve known that since I was a kid. It’s the same for you, probably.” James
pouted, his arms crossed looking like the petulant teenager he was. “Bloody
family,” He grumped.
“Your room is yours, Al. You won’t have to share with the new baby.”
Lily pushed the chair back and left the room in a hurry.
“Have you seen a healer?” Fleur asked. Ginny turned to her sister-in-law at the
head of the table.
“Who are you planning on using as a midwife?” Hermione asked. “I never could
use one.”
“So if the baby is due towards the end of July, how will you cope with
travelling during the Spring Season for Quidditch?” Angelina asked.
Luna stood up instead, walking around to hug Ginny. “You celebrate. I’ll talk
with her.” Luna kissed Ginny on the forehead, whispering, “Lily probably will
appreciate my attention right now, as someone who will listen to her.” She
kissed her on the cheek before leaving the room, following Lily into the
parlour.
Ginny sighed, trying to keep all of the questions sorted so she could handle it
all. Harry, on the other hand, was being handed a huge glass of Firewhiskey in
celebration with the other men at the table.
All except James, who was pouting over his glass of pumpkin juice.
“That’s what you get for being a git at the dinner table,” Al cheeked.
“You know you hate Firewhiskey,” Fred added.
“Well, you were acting like a git so they’re treating you like a toddler.”
Charlie tossed back his Firewhiskey before reaching for a second measure from
the bottle.
Molly cuffed Charlie on the back of the head. “And you’re next if you know what
for.”
“Yes, Mum.”
===============================================================================
The family pulled into the parking space behind their residence in London, with
Harry turning off the engine on his Mercedes. James was stuck in the middle,
with Al and Lily ignoring him, looking into their mirrors and talking with
their friends.
“We’re going to talk.” Harry opened his door first, followed by Ginny and the
rest. “And you’re going to come completely clean on why you’re acting a world
class prat this holiday.” Harry slammed his door first. Al and Lily looked at
one another and shrugged. They were told earlier that they weren’t in trouble –
not this time.
Harry went in first, with the kids following, and Ginny last. They stepped into
the warm kitchen, with the smell of stew and crusty bread baking in the oven.
“Master Harry had returned,” the elderly Kreacher croaked at them. “Winky is
upstairs preparing your bath, Mistress Ginny and Poppy is turning down the beds
for the younger Potters.”
The rest of the family went upstairs.
“Thank you Kreacher. We’re going to have a family talk in the parlour upstairs.
It shouldn’t take long but would you keep any owls until we come back
downstairs?”
“Yes, sir. Very Good, Master Harry.”
“Once everything is finished, you and the rest of the elves have the evening
off. Everyone has earned their galleons today.”
“Very good, sir. I will inform the others. They asked if they could return to
Hogwarts for the evening, to celebrate.”
“You don’t have to ask. You, along with Winky and Poppy, are free Elves.”
“Kreacher hates being rude and presuming, sir.”
“Enjoy the evening with the others. Throw back a butterbeer if you want.”
Kreacher laughed, like a stepped on frog.
Harry went upstairs to the parlour, where a fire was already burning in the
fireplace. James stood at the fireplace, getting warm. Harry pointed his wand
at the grate and locked it down. James sighed again.
“Sit, now.” Harry pointed to the high backed chair by the fire – Aunt
Hermione’s favorite seat – “And tell me why you‘ve acted like a toerag since
you’ve been home.”
Ginny took the other chair, away from James, while Harry had the recliner on
the end of the couch. The other two kids stood in the doorway, ready for an
escape if it turned into a barn burning row.
“You’d not understand,” He grumped and looked into the fire.
“Try us,” Ginny spoke up.
“I’m dating a girl,” James started.
“Oh, is that all?” Lily snorted. “Tell them all of it, James.”
“If you won’t, I will.” Al stood resolute against the other doorjamb.
“So? Speak up,” Harry asked brusquely.
“Fine. It’s Pansy Parkinson’s daughter. She’s a sixth year Ravenclaw but she’s
17.”
“And you’re being a git to your Mum because?”
James muttered something that no one understood.
“Speak up,” Harry snorted. “Because you stay insolent long enough, I’ll owl
Pansy herself and get to the bottom of it.”
“I’m going to speak with Pansy whether this toerag tells us or not.” Ginny took
a step towards the fireplace before James threw his hands up.
“Oh Merlin, don’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Penelope hasn’t told her Mum we’re dating.” James buried his head in his
hands.
“And how long has this gone on?” Frost from Ginny’s voice coated the furniture.
“Start of the year.”
Harry sat forward in his chair. “So why have you upset your pregnant Mum and
made a mess of Christmas this year for the family? What is so important that
you are being a git towards everyone?”
“I know,” Lily spoke up.
“Damn Slytherin,” James snarled.
Lily imitated her Mum in the doorway, with her arms crossed and her ire up.
“You know it. Now tell them.”
“Fine.” James turned to his parents. “We were supposed to go away while on
Holiday from school. I rented a little place down on the Cornish coast. But
because Mum insisted,” James whined, “I come to Christmas dinner with the
family, she’ll think me a tosser for breaking it off without telling her.”
“You are a tosser. What makes this girl so different?” Al asked first.
James’ face turned six shades of red.
“The Hufflepuffs were ready to beat your arse at the end of last year for you
bedding the prefect then breaking up with her a fortnight later.” Al spoke up,
earning dirty looks from James and their parents. “And then you were flirting
with that Slytherin seventh year last year after you dumped the ‘Puff. Rumor
has it that she sucked your bits too before leaving her without a note at the
end of last term. Now you’re seeing Penelope. Why is Penelope Parkinson so
special?”
James turned faintly pink.
“Might as well tell me now,” Harry cheeked at his son’s mortification, “because
it’s not getting you out of whatever punishment your Mum hands out for
humiliating her today.”
“Have you ever seen Penelope Parkinson? She’s hot, like fiendfyre hot. She’s
got these curves that will make a man get on his knees.”
James scowled at Al’s snort.
“And Imogene Turlington? What was she, sliced liver?” Al spoke up first. “You
shagged her in your bed in Gryffindor tower then dumped her a fortnight later.
There was a pool in the Hufflepuff common room for who was going to kick your
arse for disrespecting her. They wouldn’t let me participate since I’m family.”
“I never shagged her. She wanted me to, but I wouldn’t do it. That’s why we
broke up shortly thereafter.” James looked at his Dad, begging him to not ask
what they had gotten up to in his bed.
“Any Sylvia Smythe? She sucked your bits in the Quidditch locker room and then
you didn’t talk with her again. Explain that!” Lily was turning fairly red with
her fists balled up. “That’s why you were in the Hospital wing two nights with
a ten tonne tongue and boils on your arse. I gladly did that bit on you for
her. She wanted you to come to actual harm.”
“Kids, enough. Up to your room now,” Ginny barked at her two kids. “I don’t
want you witnessing what happens to your brother.”
The other two scampered up the stairs to their rooms. Ginny waited patiently
for the particular doors to slam shut before she continued.
“If you’re going to ground me, go ahead. I go back on the train in 10 days
anyway.”
Harry looked at Ginny and she nodded once. He sat back in his chair, content to
know his wife was going to handle it, and maybe teach their sexist hedonistic
son some manners in the process.
Ginny stood up from the end of the couch and paced in front of the two others
in the room. “James, is what they said true? Are you using women for sexual
pleasure then dumping them?”
He turned faintly green, then red. “I’m not shagging them, Mum. I know better.
Accidents happen. You’ve told everyone that story: that I was born two years
before you were ready to quit Quidditch. So I do try to date but I want to keep
it fun. But the others want a boyfriend with all of the fringe benefits but
there are some things I just won’t give into. When I won’t budge, they get mad
and break up with me. I’m looking for a good time but they want more than I’m
willing to offer.”
“James, you might want to keep quiet.”
“No, I won’t. I’m tired of Mum treating me like a bloody toddler. I know better
than treating women wrong.” James looked at his dad, trying to ignore his mum
but he wasn’t getting any support from Harry. “They want more than what I’m
willing to do. I’m looking for a good snog and they are expecting sex. I don’t
want that.” He blushed hard. “I’ve not had sex but I’ve had some fun. The
rumors keep the guys off my back but my reputation for a lothario is enough
that the girls want to shag me so when I’m out of Hogwarts and training for
Quidditch, they can follow along as a Quidditch groupie. They’ve told me that
and often.”
“And I know you. You’ve conveniently left much out of what you’re talking
about. I know from Neville that you’ve had plenty of detentions with him, for
being caught in various broom closets and elsewhere with these various people,
in compromising positions.” Ginny wrapped her arms around her stomach, fighting
a wave of nausea. “So don’t take me for falling off the turnip truck an hour
ago. I know you think I’m old and stupid, but I spent some time in quite a few
broom cupboards. I know what can happen in there.”
James ducked his head and refused to look at his Mum, muttering about not
understanding.
“And I understand so much more than you do. Do you honestly think that your
first contract with a Quidditch team will be so large that you’re tripping on
galleons, so much that you’re throwing them around without a care, with women
hanging on you?”
James nodded.
“You presume that birds will sink a beak in you for being a professional
Quidditch player? You think that there will be gaggles of groupies following
you, hoping for a groupie’s life, following you to all of the matches, partying
all hours of the night and living large off your galleons?”
James nodded.
Ginny laughed harshly. “You’re not that good, not compared to me. But you can
be, but not with your current attitude. Your laziness will keep you on practice
squads as a training bludger.”
James turned bright red. “You said it was the best years before you married
Dad. And you said how much fun Quidditch was when you flew.”
“James, shut your gob.” Ginny turned on her oldest son, freezing him in the
chair by the fire. “I’m going to say this once and you better listen, as well
as taking it to heart.” Ginny pulled her wand from the holster on her arm and
handed it over to Harry. She sat down across from James and gave him a stern
look.
“I’m ashamed of you. You were raised better, to treat women better, and here I
hear that you are using women for sex then throwing them aside?”
“Well, yeah. It’s not like I’m making them. I flirt with the girls, maybe snog
or two, and they are throwing their knickers at me. Would you turn that down,
Dad?”
Harry groaned. “Ever since I got with your Mum, I have, countless times,
including a few wizards. No one holds a candle to your Mum. I think the child
growing in her belly proves how barmy I am for her.” Harry looked at Ginny and
smiled.
“I love you too, Harry.”
“But I’m not like you, Dad. I want to have my fun and live some before I settle
down.”
Ginny bristled at being talked over. “You want to go live with your
grandparents for the next few months, doing chores sunup to sundown?” James
shook his head frantically. “You sure? Mum’ll straighten you up forthwith.”
“I’m sure.” He hung his head despondently.
“Then you will quit your antics now. You will treat women better from here on
out. Otherwise I’ll put my size 5 trainer print on your ass.” Ginny walked to
the Floo and grabbed a handful of powder from the wooden cistern. She threw
some powder in, yelling Parkinson Manor before sticking her head into the green
flames.
“James, I hope you know you’ve completely cocked things up with your Mum.”
“Dad, help me out. You had plenty of women before you settled down. Uncle
George said so. Charlie told me about a few of your own birds before Mum. I
want to have fun like you did before you married Mum.”
Harry put his head in his hands and groaned further. “You actually believed
Uncle Charlie and George’s tall tales about my sexual prowess? Merlin’s beard!
I took you for being smarter than that!”
“Well, yeah. Uncle George said that you had women hanging off of you for years,
until you settled down with Mum. She was busy with the Harpies, travelling
constantly, so you took advantage of such and lived it up. She did too, way he
talked about it.” James refused to look at either of his parents. “Uncle
Charlie said that at one time Mum had boyfriends in every city they travelled
to.”
Harry threw his head back and laughed. “Ginny, when you get done talking with
Pansy, you have to hear this.”
Ginny pulled her head out of the grate with ash covering her face. “Almost
done, Harry.” She stuck her head back in and continued talking, presumably with
Pansy Parkinson.
“James, they pranked you. I never did any of that mess Uncle George said. They
fed you a tale taller than the astronomy tower. Your mother dated much more
than I ever did. She dated guys before me, and I gave her the opportunity to
date around while she was with the Harpies. I never asked her what happened
when she was on the road. When she returned from abroad, we had quite a reunion
and she’s somehow only been interested in my silly arse. As for me? I saw her
and that was it. I was glad to wait on her. It was only fitting.”
Ginny pulled her face out of the Floo, gloating. “Pansy now knows what you were
intending with Penelope, and so does Penelope. Penelope was rather beastly
about being stood up this morning. And she’s chucked you for being a git.”
“You’ve ruined my last terms at school. Thanks Mum!” James groaned
dramatically. “I won’t be able to get a date now.”
“And for your information, young man, your father has been nothing short of
impressively faithful to me since we got together on my 17th birthday.” Ginny
dusted herself off before sitting on Harry’s knee, earning another groan from
James. “Shall I discuss in nauseating detail about the first time we made love?
Or tell you how I taught your father – “
“Merlin, enough!” He buried his head in his hands.
“And then there’s you,” she hissed, “who treat people, especially women as
strumpets, only to suck your cock for a thrill. How many people - girls, guys,
and everyone else - have you insisted give you a knob job yet refused to
reciprocate?”
James turned purple.
“Your behavior makes me sick. So listen to me and listen well.”
James nodded.
“The life of a Quidditch player is only glorious when the lights are on and
fans in the stadiums. That’s if you are on a broom for the match. No one
bothers to talk about six hour practices that give you blisters from the hard
flying in practice. No one will tell you about the training schedule a month
before the first match – and even if you’re the last one on the team, you’re
expected to be in International standard conditioning shape. Those hours of
running bleachers are horrible, to the point of puking and then still having to
make time even with your guts hanging out.
“I was in the best shape of my life, my first year, and I was on the sidelines
‘til a catastrophic injury to the second Chaser put me on my broom against the
Arrows. No one bothers to talk about the players who end their career with an
injury. No one talks about the chronic injuries that plague you once you’re off
a broom.”
Harry squeezed her arse and she wiggled.
“But the hardest is being away from your family for weeks on end. The guys have
an easier go of it until the actual season starts then it’s a no-sex ban for
months. Imagine not getting even a knob polishing ‘til the Christmas Hols.”
James gulped.
“See, unlike the guys, who the idea is to keep them aggressive and edgy, the
women are under no such constraints. They are encouraged to rub one out before
a match, to take the edge off, so they can focus for the hours up on a broom.
Not me, though. I refused and was just as edgy and aggressive as the guys. It
might be why I had the most penalties along with highest scoring average my
second year.”
“Ugh, just stop, please. I don’t need to think about that.”
Ginny sat forward and froze James again with her game face. “So if you want
anyone to even consider you for a Reserve team, which I can easily put some
words out for a team that you’re a mental case, I’d suggest you buckle down on
how you treat people, keeping your gob shut and focus on getting in shape
‘cause if I was anything but humble with Gwenog on the first day of training
camp, she’d have run my ass into the pitch from eighty feet.
“She damn well nearly did anyway.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Do you want me to firecall Gwenog tonight? I’m sure she has a spare
conditioning schedule so you can fathom how brutal training camps really are.
And that’s the Harpies. Do you think any of the other teams are any easier? One
Floo call tonight and your arse will be dragging around the school for a month.
And the bludger of it all is, you know I can still perform to standard, unlike
you right now.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Now get your arse upstairs and write an apology to Penelope and Pansy for your
wretched behavior.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“And you come back down and apologize to me when you are ready. ‘Til then, I
don’t want to see you.”
“Yes, Mum.” James got up from his chair and made his way towards the stairs.
“James,” Harry barked gruffly. “I’ll be in your room shortly to talk, Man to
man. Now get to your room.”
Heavy footfalls crashed on the stairs until a door crash echoed through the
residence.
“I thought Lily would be the worst.” Harry sat back into the couch, resting his
head on the back. “Who’d have thought James would be the git this time?”
“Luna took care of Lily while we were at Percy’s earlier. Lils was fine once
Aunt Luna talked with her.”
“And her problem?”
“She thinks that we did this purposefully and now she’s not the baby anymore.
Luna explained that Mums and Dads have some happy accidents, from time to time.
I think that explanation worked well enough with her.”
“Her too? Al seems to be the only one OK about it all.” Harry rubbed the bridge
of his nose, trying to fend off the impending headache. “But I know him. He’ll
talk with me later, when you’re not around. But since James is our ‘baby’ then
I sort-of understand why he’s acting like a wanker.”
“Now that the kids are out of our hair, I want a bath. I might want some
wholemeal toast too. All I had at dinner was some ham and potatoes. I’m
knackered from the bean in my belly.”
“Not too knackered, are you? I’ve not had a chance to unwrap my present.” Harry
smirked at his beloved.
“You can unwrap me once the kids are asleep. I might be half asleep but don’t
let my snoring stop you.”
“So? You’ll wake up enough to wake the neighbors if I don’t silence our room.”
“So reinforce them before you turn in.” Ginny walked over to Harry and snogged
him breathless. “Don’t wait too long, love.”
He watched her arse sashaying away from him and up the stairs.
He adjusted his trousers before going back to the kitchen for a Firewhiskey and
then talking to his kids before bed.
===============================================================================
Harry quietly crept into their master suite and locked the door. He motioned
his wand and the room was silenced, sealed but also could hear the area in
front of their door. He didn’t expect to get interrupted tonight, not after
talking with Al and Lily and getting into a row with James.
One candle flickered on his bedside table, enough to show Ginny asleep in the
bed. He knew she would be. The early weeks of pregnancy always ground her down,
until the 16th week when she turned into her Mum and was a rampaging dragon, in
and out of the bedroom.
Harry sat down in his chair on his side of the bedroom, taking off his trainers
and socks that were ripe for 14 hours he was in them. He took off the jumper
and button down shirt, leaving on the vest for the moment. He crept into their
bathroom, closing the door before turning on the light. He brushed his teeth
and tidied up some before bed, but not before evaluating his appearance in the
mirror.
Gone was the small, undernourished child of his youth. He was still there, in
the depth of his eyes, and in the memories, but the Aurors trained the rest out
of him, leaving him filled out but not bulky. The grey at his temples could be
colored and scars on his face covered but Ginny disabused him of that notion at
the dinner table.
The years with her taught him one thing: be the man the boy needed, for others.
Arthur and the rest of the Weasley men taught him that, too. He was trying to
include his sons in that lesson, trying to raise them into fine young men. They
weren’t there yet but coming along, with some bumps. He wasn’t perfect but he
was determined to get them out on their own, as best as possible. Maybe they’d
understand their old man once they were on their own feet. Maybe he’d do better
with the little one or ones inside his wife’s belly.
He stepped out of his denims and pants, and threw them in the hamper. His wife
said he could wake her and he would - and then meet up at half nine with the
Weasley-Granger household for their Annual Boxing Day activities.
He crept back into the bedroom and slipped under the warm bedclothes, including
the heavyweight quilt made by Fleur. His wife’s body was so warm that it was
almost a shame to wake her for a leg over.
“Took you long enough, Harry,” her gravelly voice broke the silence of the
room.
“The kids took longer than I expected.”
“You mean James.” There was no question in her statement.
“We had it out, man to man.”
“Hope you hexed him,” she rolled onto her back and Harry snuggled in closer to
his wife. She might be six inches shorter than him, but she was always his big
spoon.
“No, actually, I didn’t. He’s going to apologize at breakfast for being a twat
towards you. He was upset about the broken plans but he also needed to learn
how much we went through to have a comfortable lifestyle now, including how
hard we had to work to get where we are.” Harry reached up her body to her
breasts and gently rubbed them, eliciting a moan from her.
“So you’re not going to kick him out once he graduates?” Her back arched under
his tender ministrations. While he was resting his head on her chest, she
threaded her hands into his messy hair and scratched his scalp.
“I’m not my sodding Uncle. I’ll hold off ‘til I figure he’s earning his own
galleons, at Quidditch or something else, he’ll fly the pitch anyway. Hopefully
he’ll save some galleons first in his own vault.” He leaned into her welcoming
body and kissed the skin of her chest, drifting lower until he could kiss the
belly that held his precious child, or children within.
Ginny shifted and pushed Harry onto his back. She straddled his waist, feeling
his excitement on her bum. Her hair hung down over one shoulder, showing her
breasts for him along with those fifteen pounds on her hips.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Harry squeezed her breasts once again before putting
them protectively over her lower belly.
“And you’re pretty fit for 41, Potter.”
Harry’s hands moved over his wife’s body, feeling each curve and dimple in her
skin. The gently rubbed her erect nipples in the chilled room before finding
the nub inside her slit. “Want me to get you off first before we go half the
night?”
“How about we act like randy teenagers, snogging a while to get me worked up
before we go half the night?” She leaned over and he put his hands in her hair,
snogging her breathless.
“I never get tired of that,” she whispered across his face, “just like I’ll
never completely tire of you.”
“Bint.”
Ginny smiled at their trite banter. “Yes I am and I’m all yours tonight. Now
shut up and kiss me.”
Harry pulled her down for another kiss, getting lost in the joy only his wife
could evoke.
Sometime later, after she’d tested out the silencing charms on their room, she
slid back from his face along his chest to his groin and took him inside her,
welcoming her husband home.
“I love you,” she whispered to her beloved husband before starting to shag him
silly.
***** A sleeve of Crackers *****
Chapter Summary
     9 months after events in Christmas Crackers...
===============================================================================
“Mrs. Potter, they’re ready to see you.”
“They can come in.”
Ginny glanced right and saw it was late into the night. Her water broke during
dinner. What a mess and only Harry leaping to help kept Lily Luna from having a
bit of a fit.
Ginny adjusted herself in the bed and moved the squirming newborn onto her
chest. The youngest Potter – the name of their child still up in the air
considering she and Harry still hadn’t made a decision on the name, bickering
hours on such – settled into her shoulder, bundled up and settling down to
sleep again.
The baby was only a couple hours old but routine settled back in easy enough,
after the child was tidied up and Ginny was healed up, some. Muggle or Magical,
a mum’s body didn’t rebound that well. It was somewhat fortunate that their
other children were old enough that she didn’t have to raise them alongside the
new child.
Harry came in first, followed by their sons James and Albus, followed by Luna
and Lily Luna.
“And everyone else?”
“Ron and Hermione will be by tomorrow morning, with Mum and Dad. The others
said they’d wait until we were settled in at home before dropping in.”
Luna leaned over and pulled the blanket from the baby’s face and put a delicate
kiss on the child’s forehead. “I claim Godmother’s rights,” she said gently
before kissing her best friend on the cheek, too. “And blessings for you and
the family,” she smiled and a small tear leaked out. “Once again, you amaze
me.”
“Well, it’s a wonder you were in town and Harry was able to get ahold of you.
Where’s the family?”
“Oh they are at home. When I told Rolf I had to come see you at the Hospital,
he was a bit beastly. But once I explained, he was fine.” She smiled and her
eyes lost focus. “He will understand a night of me not by his side in bed.”
Albus blushed slightly and James laughed.
“Mum, can I?” Lily Luna had grown in the last nine months without her notice.
She had thinned out some, like Harry, but with her hair looking like her
namesake grandmother hair and Harry’s myopic eyes, she was the best of both of
them. “You should know this since you babysit Astarte enough.”
Ginny sat up and tried to hide the wince but Harry saw her. He put a pillow
behind the small of her back and another behind her shoulders. “Thanks,” she
smiled at him while watching her older daughter cradling her younger sister.
“Mrs. Potter?” The specialist Healer came in, followed by a very demure and
barely noticed Rose Weasley. “Rose!”
“Aunt Ginny,” she smiled brightly. “I asked the Healer to make a stop so I
could say hi.”
“We didn’t know you were already in your apprenticeship.”
“I started the week after Hogwarts. St. Mungo’s doesn’t want you to wait, not
when you are ready for it.”
“Have you taken your potions, Mrs. Potter?”
Ginny smiled. “The medi-witch was in an hour ago and had me take a large dose
of blood replenishing potion along with the nerve regeneration one.”
“Excellent. Make that note, Miss Granger-Weasley.”
Rose pulled the quill to parchment and wrote her notes.
“Are you in need of anything, Mrs. Potter?”
“Yes, I am. I’m famished. I missed dinner on account of my water breaking and
could eat a hippogriff.”
“I’ll see to it, Healer Finley.”
“Excellent.”
“And Rose?”
“Yes Aunt Ginny?”
“We need the cake from home. Would you owl your Mum to bring it in the morning?
It’s Harry’s birthday and I don’t want him to miss out on the celebration.”
“Ginny, it’s not important,” Harry started before she cut across him.
“Bollocks, Harry. I promised you that you’d have cake every single birthday
since those Muggles who raised you refused. I’ll be arsed if I break it, even
if on account of having this bundle of beans the day before your birthday.”
“Happy Birthday, Mr. Potter. That’s one fantastic birthday present.”
Harry looked upon his expanded family and smiled. His oldest, James, was off to
training camp next week for the Ballycastle Bats. His middle son was a prefect
and growing into a confident young man with a heart like his old man, and his
older daughter, a superb Quidditch player in her own right, at 14.
“You’re looking at 25 years of birthday presents, Healer Finley.”
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