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It Ain't Easy Bein' Green | ||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Other, Harry/Ginny, Ron Weasley Genres: Comedy, Fluff, Humor Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 11 Summary: It's St. Patrick's Day and Seamus has to miss Ron's Stag Night. I little bit of drinking, a little bit of flirting and throw in an angry and VERY pregnant Ginny, and you've got one heck of a fun evening! Also features Harry's misadventures with "Quidditch Lenses." Hitcount: Story Total: 6377 |
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“Tell me again why you’re doing this?” Ginny flattened Harry’s hair and checked his appearance: green shirt, tan trousers, large shamrock pinned to his shirt pocket and a silly looking green hat twirling on one of his fingers. “Because Seamus can’t make it to Ron’s Stag Night and it is St. Patrick’s Day today, after all,” he reminded her and placed a kiss on her left cheek. “It also helps that Hermione is out of town, too,” he muttered under his breath, thankful that his bushy-haired friend was off tracking down her great-grandmother’s lace tablecloths. “A ha! Now we’re getting down to brass tacks, love. So does that mean if she was home, you wouldn’t be going?” she eyed him curiously, watching his eyes dart back and forth while trying to form a legitimate sounding excuse. “Well, er, I would. Ron would be stuck at home.” He started out of the room, only to be stopped by her hand on his chest. “So this really has nothing to do with Ron. It’s just more convenient this way,” she stated. “And I can’t come along because?” Harry’s face became petulant and he cocked his head to the side, looking at her. “I would think it fairly obvious, love.” He reached down and rubbed her belly, swollen from the babies inside her. She was nearly bursting under his fingers. “So what am I supposed to do if I go into labour?” she crossed her arms in front of her chest as she stared at him furiously. “You won’t and that’s why we have the mobiles, right? You’re a midwife, Ginny, for crying out loud.” Harry dashed out of the room before she could say another word and made it all the way to the door of the basement before she nailed him with a Jelly Legs Jinx, causing him to tumble to the hard, tile floor of the hallway. “Harry James Potter, if you weren’t the father of these children I’d Avada Kedavra you right now! How dare you say something like that to me! I can’t deliver these bloody babies all by myself and you know it. Get up off your arse!” “Excuse me, but I can’t. Remember? You hexed me.” Harry shot her a sour look and she started to cry. “Ginny. Come on.” He hated hormones. He hated mood swings. He hated that sex took more effort because of Mount Ginny. He wanted those babies out as much as she did. “Oh, Harry, I’m sorry.” She swished her wand, released Harry from the spell and reached out a hand to him so he could get up. He waved her off; he had been helping her up off the floor for months now and he wasn’t about to make her bend over and risk falling on top of him. He groaned a bit at a sore spot as he stood; it had been a good tumble, though. Harry smiled to himself, thankful that she hadn’t messed up the spell; her magic had been going haywire for weeks now due to uneven emotional control caused by the increased hormone levels, Hermione had said. She wiped her tears away and launched herself into his arms. “You go have fun, alright?’ “Now I feel terribly guilty about all this, Gin. You rival your mother.” She smiled and he knew she was all better. A double crack drew their attention to the entry hall and Ron and Seamus appeared with broad grins on their faces. Ginny chuckled as she took in their appearance. Seamus was dressed as a leprechaun, reminding her of that cartoon man on the cereal box, complete with shamrock dangling from his top hat. Ron was somewhere in between Harry and Seamus. He had on black trousers, a white shirt and a horrifically green dragon skin waistcoat she knew he stole from one of the twins. “Ginny! You look like you swallowed one of Hagrid’s watermelons!” Seamus’ mouth had dropped and he couldn’t take his eyes off Ginny’s protruding midsection. “Seamus, she’s beautiful and glowing with impending motherhood.” He gently stroked her belly. “Put away your wand, love.” He took it from her hand and set it on the table. “I would never do anything to Seamus,” she teased. “How’d you know, anyway?” “Because I know you as well as Hermione knows Hogwarts: A History,” Harry deadpanned. He received a quick swat on the arm from his wife for that remark. “Well, Seamus, be glad he stopped her. Her magic gets all messed up these days,” Ron added. “Right, Harry?” “Because I would rather go to a pub than St. Mungo’s, I am staying out of this argument in order to be alive when my children are born.” Harry knew when to pick his battles these days. He was on the receiving end of a Bat-Bogey Hex gone terribly wrong last week for a remark he made about a beach ball and ended up in St. Mungo’s for half a day, going through several dozen handkerchiefs in the interim, doing his best impression of a hose pipe. “So lads, are you ready to go?” Harry lifted his jacket from the coat rack and put on his green hat and stood beside Ron as Seamus drifted over to Ginny. “Oh, Ginny, I’m sorry. You are beautiful just like Harry said.” He patted her tummy and laughed as he tried to get the babies to move. “Oh, come on already. The bull’s getting a mite deep in here.” Ron shook his head impatiently, tapping his foot to amplify his annoyance, then froze when Ginny shot him a look threatening imminent hexing. Harry ignored Ron’s antics and turned toward Ginny. “Your mobile is charged?” She nodded. “Call if anything happens, yeah?” He kissed her quickly and headed out the door with Seamus and Ron. “You mean it’s all ‘cause of snakes! SNAKES!” Ron’s voice was nearly loud enough to be heard above the din of the pub. “Bloody hell, Harry! You coulda just asked ‘em to leave in Parseltongue. I tell you, Harry…” “Ron, shut up!” He nervously looked over his shoulder to see if anyone heard him. Why did we have to go to a Muggle pub? “Ron, you have no Irish in ye, so of course ye wouldn’t understand.” Seamus’ words were beginning to slur as the Guinness began to take effect. “In my opinion, it has to do with bein’ free of the English and their occupation!” He raised his glass in a mock-toast. “English? Whataya mean? Since when have you hated the English?” Ron’s booming voice was now loud enough to turn some heads in the pub. “I’m English! Harry’s English!” Heads turned toward them and the room got rather quiet. “What? What’d I say?” Harry’s head hit the table in embarrassment. If he could find a hole and crawl in, he would. He knew going to Dublin was a mistake. A big one. “Seamus, can we go somewhere else, please?” he asked, his anxiety burning away the warmth of the alcohol. “Oh, yeah, Harry.” Seamus, though already three sheets to the wind, picked up Harry’s cue rather quickly, helped extricate Ron from two rather large blokes who looked liked they meant business and headed out the door. “I coulda taken ‘em, Harry!” Ron, it appeared, was five sheets to the wind and was apparently about ready to start pissing into it, in more ways than one. “Yeah. Sure.” Harry slung Ron’s arm over his shoulder and stopped beside Seamus at the corner. “Now where?” “The Smiling Leprechaun. Wizard pub in Vertic Alley. You okay to Apparate with’im?” he asked, pointing at Ron. Seamus cast a Sobering Charm on Harry and himself, feeling the fug in his head lift a bit. “I think so. I’ve never been there, though.” “Ah, you’ll be okay. Just think of The Smiling Leprechaun and you’ll make it.” Seamus disappeared in a flourish and Harry nervously Apparated away with Ron. When he reappeared, Harry and Ron were immediately handed rather large pints of green ale and ushered to a seat next to Seamus, thankful that he hadn’t Splinched himself or Ron. He looked around. The place was full of loud, boisterous Irish wizards, warlocks and witches who didn’t even noticed that Harry Potter or Ron Weasley had suddenly appeared in the midst of them, as most of the crowd was currently either inebriated, or well on their way. And that was just fine with Harry. “Hey, where’re we?” asked Ron, realising he was no longer in danger of being attacked by those two rather large blokes. “Oh. Beer. I like dis place.” He downed the emerald liquid in mere seconds. “We’re at The Smiling Leprechaun, lad. Here, have a ‘nother!” Seamus snapped his fingers in the air and a lovely brunette walked over with another round of beer. “Seamus Finnigan! Where have you been?” She flung her arms around him and planted a big sloppy kiss on his lips. “And who are these handsome boys here?” She ran her hand through Harry’s hair and gave him a big smile. “Fiona, this is Randy and this is Rodger,” Seamus quipped. “Good friends of mine from me days at Hogwarts.” “So what do you do, Rodger?” She poked Harry in the chest, just below the open button. “Um, I, uh…” Harry’s eyes were stuck on her bosom which was nearly popping out of her wench costume. He saw Ron snorting in laughter across the table. “He’s married and gonna be a dad. Come here and sit on my lap, love. I play Quidditch!” The words caused Fiona to hurl herself at Ron and she landed on his lap. Ron happily buried his face in her cleavage. “So, Randy, is it?” “Oh, yes! I’m Randy! That’s right! Randy!” Ron was enjoying this too much. “Leave him alone, Fiona. His ball and chain will be welded on in three weeks,” Seamus reminded Ron, who suddenly wore a most unhappy expression. Fiona leapt off Ron’s lamp as if he were a burning coal. “That was a mean thing to do, Randy! I hope your woman finds out what you did!” She slapped Ron’s hand as she stormed off. “Why’d you hafta go and do dat for?” Ron’s displeasure at the situation soon vanished as he turned his attention to his pint of emerald ale in front of him. As it turned out, Fiona gave up their table to a buxom blonde with one too many pock marks on her face and too much makeup. Since Ron was teetering on the edge of being well and thoroughly pissed, he thought Maeve was a goddess. “Well,” Maeve began, “’ere ye lads ready fer another round, then?” She eyed Ron up and down lecherously. It seemed Fiona neglected to tell her Ron was spoken for. “And you, my randy one, can I get ye anythin’ else?” She waggled her brows suggestively at him. “Sorry, love. I think we need to get him home,” Seamus informed her which brought a pout to her face. He pushed her away from the table and turned to Ron. “Mate? You okay?” Ron’s eyes were glassed over and he looked dreamily in her direction. “She’s beautiful.” “Ron, yer kiddin’ right?” Seamus had never heard anything so ridiculous. “I think he’s looking at her through Drinking Lenses,” Harry flatly stated while shaking his head, glad that he had cast a temporary Sobering Charm on himself while he could. “You ever do that?” “Aye. One too many times. Remember Erin? From your weddin’?” Harry nodded. “Well she broke up wit’ me after she found me wit’ a bird I thought looked like her.” “That couldn’t have gone over well.” Erin was a rather beautiful redhead. Harry smiled, as he was distinctly partial to redheads himself. “I was wondering about her.” “Yeah, well there’s nothing worse than Drinking Lenses.” Harry spat out the beer from his mouth. “Hey, wassup, mate? You alright?” Harry nodded and looked over at Ron, who had picked up on the conversation through his beer haze and was laughing, which quickly turned into violent hiccupping, making Harry cast another temporary Sobering Charm on him. Harry realised his mistake when Ron immediately looked up and gave a grin. “Seamus, you’ve never heard of Harry’s run in with Quidditch Lenses, have you?” Ron winked at Harry, causing him to groan. “Come on, Harry, it’s a great story; even the twins were impressed.” “Please. Enlighten me,” Seamus begged. “Well, fine.” Harry looked around, casing the pub like he was on a mission. “It was Gin’s seventh year and she was playing against Hufflepuff.” “Harry really hacked her off on Valentine’s Day,” Ron added with a grin. “Thanks, Ron. Anyway, she and Hermione got it into their heads to make me get all uncomfortable at the Quidditch match.” Harry sheepishly rolled his eyes, trying to avoid going into too much detail. “Hermione charmed my glasses to see through certain things….” “Like Ginny’s Quidditch uniform!” Ron ducked out of the way as Harry tried to swat him across the head. “What?” It was Seamus’ turn to spray beer across the table. “Ron, you tell it. Harry here’s liable to leave out all the good parts.” They both looked over at Ron with very different hopes; Seamus begging for details while Harry begged him not to say anything. Through the haze of his returning inebriation as the charm wore off, Ron weighed the pros and cons of each situation carefully in his head and, with the help of the copious amounts of alcohol in his bloodstream, came to the conclusion that filling in Seamus about Harry’s misadventure would be much more entertaining. He did, however, neglect to factor in certain facts: one, that he would normally never tell the story due to the fact that she was his sister; two, that he was her big brother and that they nearly began hexing each other when he had found out what the girls did; and, three, there was the minor point that Ginny would almost certainly kill him if she found out he told Seamus. Ron smiled, silently informing Harry of his decision, making Harry groan. “Okay, Finnigan. Harry forgot Valentine’s Day and Ginny went all spare.” Harry leaned forward and hid his face in his arms. “She asked Hermione to help her teach Harry a lesson and Hermione found this charm for Harry’s glasses.” “Don’t forget the eyes, Ron. They messed with my eyes,” Harry’s muffled voice pointed out. “Yeah. Anyhow, this charm made Harry able to see Ginny utterly starkers on her broom, straight through her uniform.” Ron paused for effect. “For the entire match, chasing the Snitch and everything. Harry obviously, couldn’t take his eyes off her, had to sit down during the entire match lest he expose his uplifting experience and he couldn’t say a thing during the match...” Seamus burst out into peals of laughter and slapped Harry hard on the back. “Yer one lucky bloke there Harry!” Seamus shook his head in disbelief. “But it was nothin’ new, right, Harry?” Harry slowly raised his head from the table with a sombre look on his face. Seamus’ eyes widened as the meaning behind Harry’s expression became suddenly clear. “Harry, tell me it’s not so!” “’Fraid so, Seamus. It was the first time I’d ever seen her naked. Oh stop already!” Seamus began turning varying shades of pink and purple, he was laughing so hard. Harry watched as Seamus struggled to catch his breath while Ron hid his face behind his hands, shaking with laughter himself. A smile began to sneak its way onto Harry’s face and he soon joined in the laughter. After several attempts to calm himself down, Seamus’ breathing returned to normal. “Oh, Harry.” Seamus stopped to wipe away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks. “It messed up yer eyes, too?” Harry nodded. “I tried taking off my glasses to make it go away, but you know Hermione. She took care of that, too. Apparently the charm transferred itself to my eyes once I put the glasses on.” Harry took another swig of his beer, his own Sobering Charm having worn off, and added, “The worst, or I s’pose the best, part of it, after seeing her walk out onto the pitch, apparently starkers, was when she hovered in front of me and did a nice little spin, followed by a view of her bum when she flew off...” “To shapely arses!” Ron hoisted his glass in a toast and the other two clanked their pints against his, downing the liquid in record time. A muffled thumping awoke Ginny from her sleep and she crept uneasily down the stairs. The noise was coming from the sitting room and she knew there were at least two people there. She desperately wished Harry was here and not off God knows where, getting pissed and leaving her here all alone. She tiptoed into the room. “Lumos!” There, in front of her, covered with soot from what looked like all the fireplaces in the British Isles, lay Ron, Seamus and, hopefully, Harry, although she couldn’t see him in the wand light. They stunk like beer and had silly grins on their faces. “This cannot be good, boys.” Seamus slurred as he tried to get to his feet but fell back down in a heap onto Harry. “Hi, Gin! Did your tummy explode?” Ron started laughing as he pointed. “Ronald,” Ginny said flatly, thinking that the two drunks on her sitting room floor had five seconds to produce her husband before St. Mungo’s would have a pair of major cases on their hands. “Harry’s here somewhere. I think,” Seamus slurred. “Or did Maeve steal him away?” Seamus got to his knees and found Harry underneath him. “Harry! There you are! Ginny’s looking fit to kill.” Harry crawled out from under the pile of assorted limbs and smiled drunkenly up at his wife. “Happy St. Patty’s Day!” Just in case you all didn’t know, “randy” is a euphemism for being horny and “rodger” refers to shagging in Britain. Here’s my source in case you don’t believe me. The English-to-American Dictionary Also, the name Maeve is Irish Gaelic for “intoxicating one,” a name I thought rather appropriate for a barmaid. Thanks to bibliophile19 for his help and his unending supply of wit. |
| Reviews 11 |
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