SIYE Time:2:52 on 4th December 2024 SIYE Login: no | | |
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To the Ears of Babes By Tonksaholic
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/AB
Characters:None
Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 22
Summary: Harry's thoughts during the events of "Foolish" as explained to a certain listener.
Hitcount: Story Total: 8282
Awards: View Trophy Room
Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.
Author's Notes: Hey everyone! As promised, Harry's version of events in "Foolish". It's a long piece that covers key moments during that story, ones that I thought would resonate the most. The sequel to "Foolish" is probably going to be started this week and hopefully up for posting by the end of the month. That's the goal. Hope you guys like this. I had to beta it myself so be gentle with me please. Enjoy!
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Chapter | |
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Harry Apparated onto his front yard and as soon as he landed, he put his hand against one of the large oak trees to steady himself. It had been a long day. Too long, really. The suspect in the smuggling case had finally been apprehended after three weeks of searching, but the crazed blighter hadn’t come in quietly. Quite the opposite, in fact. Two of the members of Harry’s team were being treated at St. Mungo’s for burns and over a dozen Muggles had to be located and Obliviated due to the commotion the suspect, Horven Dallwit, had caused in a shoe store in an attempt to avoid capture. Harry probably would have ended up getting more sleep had he just crashed in his office. It was hard to remember why he hadn’t Transfigured his chair into a camp bed as he lowered the wards around his house and forced his weary body up the steps to the door. The lights shone brightly from the living room window and he wondered if Ginny was still awake at this late hour. Or early hour, as it were.
He couldn’t decide if he wanted her to be or not.
His fingertips wrapped around the doorknob. They refused to turn the cool piece of brass, though. Harry leaned his forehead against the wood and wondered for the hundredth thousand time what would have happened if he had had the strength to tell Ginny no when she asked him to support her in her choice to stay in Hastom; if he could have walked away from her the night of the feast when she had followed him here; if he hadn’t been running late to meet Meredith for dinner in New York and he hadn’t had the chance to stumble across Ginny there; if he could have worked harder to banish her from his heart after three years.
If he had just fought harder for her when she ran away to begin with.
Maybe they would have found a way to be healthy and happy together instead of Harry slowly finding his way to health and contentment on his own. They could have settled in London at Grimmauld Place or maybe they would have discovered Hastom together. He would have gone to all of her matches and she would have been there for him on the days the darkness of his work threatened to undo him. Maybe they’d be living in this house now as man and wife instead of roommates. The baby growing inside her now could be…
“Stop it,” Harry whispered out loud. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tamped his traitorous thoughts down deep to a place where they couldn’t torture him so. It wasn’t fair to him or to Ginny to look back on the past and see clearly now that which couldn’t be remedied. She was about to become a mother, for goodness sakes! The last thing she needed was him waxing poetic for years gone by, especially when all she desired of him was friendship. She had made that perfectly clear.
I couldn’t ask for a better friend, Harry.
The words had been pounding in his head from the moment she had uttered them.
Friend?
He had opened his home-his entire life-for her and all she could see of it was friendship? That wasn’t something Harry was capable of doing out of friendship. Ron and Hermione had never set foot here; they knew nothing of his life in Hastom. Neville, Hagrid, Kingsley, George, any of the Weasleys for that matter (save for one, of course) or any of his companions outside these borders knew about Hastom. Luna was the exception and that was because Luna was an exception to many things in the world.
He just couldn’t open this part of himself up to any of them. This place was his. This place had made him stronger and helped to dull the burning pain in his soul to a mere throb, something he had once thought impossible. He would never ever risk letting others that he held dear to his heart pass judgment on Hastom. Harry himself had never understood the level of fear and prejudice that many in the Wizarding world held for this beautiful village until he had off-handedly mentioned Hastom to Ron one day during lunch at together at the Ministry. Harry had almost completed his trial citizenship and he wanted to gauge his oldest friend’s reaction for his new home. The fear in Ron’s eyes had been boggling. The redhead had begun spewing tales he had heard over the years from his family, friends, and other acquaintances without letting Harry get a word in edgewise.
Ron finished his little speech with a word of advice.
“If you ever meet anyone from that…that place, Harry, you only have one move: Get as far away from them as you can. People who chose to live there are people you don’t want to deal with.” There were no words Harry could think of-at that moment or since-to make Ron understand without losing one of his best friends. He would never make himself vulnerable enough to lose someone else he loved again.
Did none of that really register with Ginny? Did she not understand what it meant that she was here and knew his most closely guarded secret? It had only been in the last six or seven months that he had even let Meredith come here to-
You’re a horrible person, he thought lifting his head and banging it against the door as quietly as he could. Meredith is your girlfriend. She deserves much better than you obsessing over someone completely unavailable.
Hurting Meredith brought Harry no joy. Since their first date, at Fleur Weasley’s urging (she had always held a soft spot for him, thanks to his “saving” of her younger sister and wanted to help him move on after the pain Ginny had caused), Meredith had taken it upon herself to bring Harry back into the land of those who lived their lives and to keep him away from shutting himself away. Being around her, Harry found that things like smiling and laughter became easier over time; true happiness had even been possible once in a while. Finally, one day, it was love for him. Not all-consuming and dizzying; it was more akin to being wrapped in warm blanket on a winter night. Safe, comforting, and leaving room for air to breathe. Nothing like it had been with Ginny and maybe that was for the best. Harry didn’t think he could survive a love that strong that again.
But it hadn’t been easy. Meredith was always the one to push them forward: first slow dance, first kiss, first night together, first vacation, first to bring up the subject of living together. Harry constantly found himself lagging behind in wanting to further cement their relationship. It wasn’t a matter of passivity on his part or aggressiveness on hers; Harry simply had a harder time moving ahead with life. There was a small part of him that couldn’t help but feel that every time he touched Meredith’s lips with his or every time they shared a bed, he was betraying Ginny. It wasn’t rational. He knew that Ginny had moved on some time ago. There was proof of that growing inside her at this very moment. Still, he held back with Meredith and he had no doubt she knew exactly why. Especially in the last few months.
“Bed,” he said quietly to the door. “You need sleep in your own bed. Just deal with it later.” It was his mantra lately. Avoiding the situation wouldn’t resolve it. Ginny had been right about that. But the longer he avoided the inevitable, the longer he could avoid hurting someone he loved...
Opening the door as slowly and quietly as he could, Harry blinked in surprise at the sight before him. Bart, passed out asleep in one of the armchairs, his feet propped up against the coffee table and wrapped tightly in an old throw. Harry let out a small sigh of relief at the sight of his friend. He had known that Bart was more than capable of taking care of himself but despite his assurances to Ginny last night, Harry had been worried about him; worried enough that he had been planning on making some off-the-book inquiries at work to see if any of their informants or undercovers had heard anything of a former Infiltrator surfacing anywhere recently. Thankfully, Bart had found his way back to them.
With a little help from Ginny, from the looks of it.
She was lying on her side on the couch, dead asleep. There was basin of water and some wet cloths near the coffee table and from the stubble on Bart’s face, his journey home hadn’t been an easy one. Ginny must have stumbled across him at the Falcon and brought him back here to clean him up and give him a safe place to rest his head for the night. Knowing that Bart had a habit of turning to the bottle in times of deep distress (times that had been few and far between since his marriage) Harry was certain that by bringing Bart back to his…to their home, Ginny had stopped a nasty fight between the Nixons from occurring. He would contact Nell in the morning, bright and early, after getting a few hangover remedies into Bart.
Walking over to his friend, Harry secured the blankets around him before turning to face Ginny. She, at least, should get to spend the night in her own bed. It seemed she deserved it after it appeared she spent the evening attending to her pissed boss. A simple Levitating spell would do the trick, but Harry found he couldn’t form the words, out loud or silently. Sighing underneath his breath, he slowly put one hand under her neck and the other under her bare knees before gently lifting her tiny frame into his arms. She stirred only once, to settle her head more firmly against his chest. Hopefully, the pounding of his heart wouldn’t wake her.
“You’re an idiot,” he admonished himself quietly, cursing his weakness. It didn’t stop him from breathing in the delicate scent of flowers that wafted up from her long red hair directly underneath his nose and from noticing how thin the fabric of her nightgown was against her smooth skin or the deep rise and fall of her (brand new, maddeningly well-endowed) chest.
Why did torture have to be so beautiful? And smell so nice?
“Truly,” he murmured, carefully walking up the steps, trying not to jostle his cargo too much, “you are the stupidest man alive and I’m including Vernon Dursley in that assessment. This whole thing is stupid. Stupider than ninety-nine percent of Trelawney’s visions. Stupider than breaking into the Ministry to save Sirius. Stupider than Mum and Dad trusting a sniveling, backstabbing git like Pettigrew. So unequivocally stu-”
Ginny snuggled closer against his chest. Harry stopped speaking and pulled her a little tighter against him as they continued down the hall.
He nudged her door open with his foot, casting a silent Lumos spell to find his way around the space. Gently, he set her on the bed, wrapping the blankets securely around her waist. She turned onto her side, facing him, and tucked her hands under the pillow before her breathing evened out again. Harry smiled a little at the vision she made before he turned to leave. Instead of wood, his foot stepped on an open book and he bent to pick it up.
Midwife LeBeauont’s Magical Guide to Pregnancy and Childbirth, the heading at the top of the page proclaimed. He looked back to Ginny and saw that even under a layer of blankets, the rounded swell of her stomach was still visible. Flexing his hand, he could almost still feel how firm yet yielding the flesh of her belly was now that it was growing a life beneath it. Harry turned away, setting the pregnancy book that Ginny had been reading religiously back on the side table.
There was no escaping it, no matter how much he wanted to. She was a mother now. A mother to a child that would be an ever-present reminder to him that their relationship had ended years before. That she had moved on far from him, never looking back or shying away from her future out of any unresolved feelings she had for him. With Harry’s luck, the baby would probably even look just like its miserable excuse for humanity of a father.
Waving his hand, the room darkened and he started to walk out of it when he caught sight of something from the doorway across the hall. Teddy’s room. One had to squint in the darkness to make it out the gold walls and butter yellow bedspread. Gold for Remus and Gryffindor, yellow for Tonks and Hufflepuff, and a plethora of brightly colored toys and stuffed figures scattered throughout the room. Vivid yellow hues were some of Teddy’s favorite colors to change his hair into. The little boy was an endless source of light and happiness, but even he wasn’t immune from the discrimination of others. Even with the posthumous medals of valor for acts of bravery during the war awarded to both his parents, when some wizards and witches learned that Teddy was the offspring of a werewolf, old fears and superstitions took over. Andromeda had once told him of being asked to leave a restaurant in Diagon Alley with Teddy when some of the other patrons recognized him from the few pictures snapped of him in public; lycanthropy was, in their narrow minds, highly contagious. When he heard about the incident, Harry had it in his head to go and find some sort of excuse to shut the restaurant down. He wanted the names of everyone who had been in there and a lot of open cells in Azkaban waiting for them.
They had managed to rid the general public of Dark Magic in the war but not cruelity.
Why couldn’t people understand? Teddy was a just a little boy, innocent and undeserving of such bigotry.
He had no control over where he had come from.
Just like someone else
Hanging his head, Harry glanced behind him. Ginny looked dead to the world. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, sure that the lack of sleep was the only thing making him even consider this…this lunacy.
Just get it over with. Get it out of your system and be done with it.
Turning around, he tiptoed back to the bed and kneeled down beside it, his head level with Ginny’s stomach. Hedging his bets, he cast a quick Silencing Charm over her head before he stared at her belly. Opening and closing his mouth several times, he finally dropped his chin to his chest and groaned quietly.
What he wouldn’t give for just one moment of certainty in this mess that had become his life. Steeling himself, he lifted his eyes and began to speak.
“I don’t hate you. It…It may have seemed like that the other day when I didn’t want to-to feel you and, well, maybe since I’ve heard about you and all, but that’s not the case. I promise, I don’t hate you. It’s just…see, your mum and me, we used to be together, as a couple. That was a long time ago. A very long time ago. We both kept living out lives and all that. We both…moved on, so to speak.
“The thing of it is, though, seeing you, knowing that you exist in the first place is this glaring, unavoidable reminder that she and I aren’t…that we aren’t together anymore. And I-I’ve always felt that we should still be. As a couple, I mean. In love and all that rubbish.” He sighed, feeling his shoulders relax at finally saying the words out loud. “I shouldn’t take that out on you, though. None of that’s your fault. It’s on me and on her. So I’m sorry if it’s seemed like I haven’t been interested in you or that I don’t want you here. Because I am…I am glad that you’re around. You make your mother very, very happy. To me, that’s always a good thing, seeing her smile like she does now. Not to mention,” Harry chuckled throatily and blushed a little, “some other…physical attributes that she’s acquired with pregnancy. Technically, they’re for you, when you come out in the world, but until you need them, they’re not…terrible to look at.” He winced. “I am pervert. Truly an enormous pervert. Forgive me. But it’s not just…those that have changed since you came along. She glows now. She’s smiling so much and her whole face just radiates this kind of light that’s…that’s beautiful. You make her even more beautiful than she was before. I didn’t think that was possible.
“I hope you look like her. That’ll be nice for you, especially if you’re the girl she thinks you are. Of course if that’s the case, you’ll have many men trying to win your favor as you get older. They’ll have to get through all of your uncles first, though. You’ve got si-five of them. They don’t know about you just yet. Your mum’s a bit scared to tell them. She doesn’t think they’ll take the news very well. Again, it’s nothing against you. She’s their baby sister and you, little one, are irrefutable proof that she has done something they have prayed she never would. Personally, I think she should just tell them quick, like ripping of a bandage. It’ll be messy no matter how she says it, might as well just have it be messy now rather than later...”
Harry didn’t speak for a long time. He heard the clock on the bedside tick but he didn’t move from his spot.
“You were supposed to be mine,” he finally managed to say. “That’s…That’s the real thing I’m having trouble getting through my head. I was supposed to be your dad and I’m not. I’m with someone else, a very nice someone else named Meredith. And your mum, she was with your…your…the man who helped her make you. Together, she and I aren’t your parents. Logically, my brain gets that. But now she’s here in this house with me every day, and every day I see you growing in her and see how in love with you she is, and every day I have to remind myself that you’re not mine. That’s not what I want, though. I want to go with your mum when she sees Nell and see…see you in the ultrasound. Hear your heartbeat. I want to set up a room for you here. I want to see you when you come out of your mother and hold you. I want you to be mine,” he whispered, blinking away a tear.
“That’s not what your mum wants. She wants to do raise you by herself. She’s told me a dozen or so times and I have no doubts that she’ll be an amazing mother. You’ll be very lucky to have her. And if that’s what she wants, then that’s how it will be. I don’t have any claim to you when you’re born. But what I can do,” he resolved, speaking as much to himself as he was to the baby, “is help her now. Make sure she stays healthy and comfortable and help her get ready for you. Help her see how much you both matter to me. Maybe then…” Harry trailed off, his eyes faraway, seeing a future so nebulous and implausible but beautiful nonetheless. More beautiful than Harry had let himself imagine in a long time.
Nodding to himself, he stood up. Determination coursed through him as he stared down at Ginny. The urge to lean down and brush his lips across her forehead was almost painful, but he held himself back. Not yet. He had other matters to settle before that step. The rising sun might bring doubts and conflict, but right now, in this moment, he was committed to finding a way back into her heart.
He looked back to the baby and his hand twitched. As softly as he could, he put his hand against her belly,
marveling at warm it was, almost pulsing with life.
“Goodnight,” he said. “Have good dreams and try to give your mum an easy day in the morning. I’ll have a nice, big breakfast waiting for you both.”
Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away and walked out of the room.
******
“You know,” Bart said, closing Harry’s refrigerator, “I think Chudley could make a real run for it this year. Shelbourne has got aim like nobody’s business. If he’s within forty feet of the rings, it’s a guaranteed ten points right there.” He passed out Butterbeers to Harry and Ron and joined them at the kitchen table. “Am I right?”
Harry took a sip of his drink. “I think someone cast a Confundus Charm on you when you weren’t looking.”
“Ron, back up my sanity.”
The redhead man fidgeted, looking anywhere but at his new friend.
“Um, I, uh, can’t talk Quidditch with you, mate. No offense, but I mean you’re…you’re…”
“What? A fair-weather Cannons fan? A non-former player? A Yankee Doodle boy?”
“Wearing a corset and six-inch heels,” Harry supplied helpfully.
“Oh.” Bart stared down at his Halloween getup. “Yeah, I get that.”
“Personally,” Nell said as she and Hermione stumbled in from the living room. “I think he looks dead sexy. I married a fabulous piece of arse, if I do say so myself.” She mocked bowed and Hermione giggled, leaning into her as they tried to keep their balance.
Bart stood and wrapped his wife’s arm around his neck. “And I think that tonight you two perhaps drank more alcoholic beverages than you served.”
“Oh no!” Hermione dropped into her husband’s lap. “We’ve been caught.”
Ron smoothed back a bit of her hair and Harry hid his smile behind his glass, both overjoyed and still a little bit at a loss to see his friends as happy as they were with each other.
Everyone else around him seemed to be able to figure out how to tell a person they loved them without hot-leaden fear threatening to cave their chest in.
Why couldn’t he?
It seemed simple enough: Look the woman he loved in the eye, tell said woman he loved her, and Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt, the two of you live happily ever after.
Of course, fairy tales didn’t take into account a princess’s bulging belly, the result of a night with some vile halfwit, or the fact that the princess never noticed the prince cower like a schoolboy whenever the opportunity to tell her his feelings presented themselves because she was so perfectly content with their friendship.
It was maddening. How was his relationship with Ginny the most honest and deceitful one in his life at exactly the same time?
Come on, now. None of that. The day’s been hard enough. Cut yourself some slack and try again tomorrow to make that woman understand what she is to you.
Ron grunted as he swung a giddy Hermione over his shoulder and stood.
“We better be getting back. We still have to pack for tomorrow and I doubt she’s going to be much help to-HEY!” Ron jumped and turned his head, trying to catch Hermione’s eye. “Did you just pinch my bum?!”
“Yes, I did. Would you like me to do it again?”
“Not in my house, thank you,” Harry answered before Ron could.
“Alright, let’s take these witches home,” Bart said, his wife already nipping playfully at his neck, “so they can tease and torture us with their bodies for a few minutes before falling dead asleep.”
“No, darling, I promise I’ll stay awake! And if I don’t, you have my permission to have your fun without me conscious.”
“See, I’ve heard that before and the next morning I still got into trouble. Why don’t we just walk out the back door so you can throw up a little bit before we Apparate because I know that look on your face,” Nell laughed, already a bit green around the gill, “and then I can tuck you into bed. Sound good?”
Nell planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
“You’re so nice! How are you so nice wearing a thong? I’m never that nice in a thong.”
“Good night, Harry,” Bart said, getting a better grip on his wife. “Say goodnight to Harry, babe.”
“Goodnight to Harry, babe. See what I did there?”
“Yup. Pity I didn’t have a drum for the rim shot.”
As Bart dragged Nell out the door, Ron clapped Harry on the back with his free arm.
“I’ll see you at work on Monday, right?”
Harry nodded. “I’m really glad you came here.”
“Me too.” Ron laughed a little. “I might not be married now if I hadn’t. This place…It’s something really special. I don’t know how to describe it. Being here, I’m…”
“The best possible version of yourself?” Harry supplied with a knowing smile.
“Yeah,” Ron agreed slowly. “That’s about it.” He squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “I’m really glad you came here. You needed someplace like this after…”
Harry didn’t need his best friend to finish. He knew coming here was the only thing that saved him after losing Ginny. Yet Hastom had also been the thing that had inadvertently led her back into his life.
Magic. What a curious thing it was.
“Oh, bloody hell!” Ron interrupted Harry’s rather melancholy musings. He looked rather sheepish and disgusted. “My wife just drooled down the back of my pants.”
If ever there was statement to lighten the mood, it was that one. Harry chuckled and bent to kiss the top of a dozing Hermione’s upside down head.
“Give her my love and put her to bed.”
“So long as you do the same for my sister. And, uh, maybe we can come back next month to visit?”
“That sounds great. I think that’s when Nell wants to do the baby shower for Gin, here before the holidays. You, me, and Bart can paint a room for the nursery while the hens are clucking down in the living room.”
Ron’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why would the baby need a nursery here? He’ll only live with you for a week or two before Ginny gets her own place.”
“It…It’s not like she’ll never visit here with him after she lea…I mean, after she becomes a citizen,” Harry tried to recover. “Besides, if we stay at the party we’ll be bored to tears but if we ditch it, you and Bart will get the arse end of it from your wives.” He smiled a little too brightly. “I’m just looking out for you two.”
Ron, bless his heart, let Harry get away with it.
“Take care, mate.” He left with his wife, leaving Harry alone again.
No, he thought as he wandered into the living room to find Ginny sprawled asleep on the couch. You’re not alone here. Not anymore.
She had changed out of her costume the second they came back from the party at the Falcon and even though he could see how exhausted she was, she trooped back downstairs in her flannel bottoms and a blue t-shirt that only barely covered her stomach and sandwiched herself between Hermione and Nell, listening to her friends natter in her ear. She had even managed to listen politely when the suggestions for boy’s names began getting tossed out.
It must still feel a bit alien to her, knowing she was carrying a son. It certainly was to Harry. The innocent little redheaded girl with a patch of freckles on her nose and pigtails that had lived in his imagination for the past few months was gone. Now there was someone new in her place, a boy who would probably take after his uncles, causing mayhem wherever he turned with a mischievous smirk on his face, just like his mother.
No wonder Ginny was so tired.
Smiling to himself, he walked over to her and took her in his arms, forcing his grunt down deep into his throat. Sure, floating her up to her bed would save his back the burden of her ever-growing girth but it meant his nose would have to miss the beautiful scent of roses and orchids that drifted up from Ginny’s hair or his neck the feel of her warm breath against it.
He didn’t care if his spine snapped in two. Times like these let Harry believe she could love him as much as he loved her.
It was supposed to be easier after Meredith. He was supposed to be free to pursue Ginny without feeling guilty. For weeks after, though, all he saw was the look in Meredith’s eyes when she said goodbye to him that evening. She had loved him deeply for years, more than he probably deserved given that he could never give back to her what she gave him: his heart. Even though she had been the one to end things, the pain in her eyes as she did had crippled him.
“I love you, Harry,” Meredith had told him that night in the same living room he was in now, “and…and I thought I loved you enough to be able to live with being your second choice. I just can’t anymore. Not when I know that your first choice is sleeping just across the hall from you.”
His first choice gave off a small belch in her sleep as he slowly made his way up the stairs with her and he smiled despite himself.
The guilt had been crushing. Half the time those first weeks after Meredith had left him he was so crushed with guilt over her pain that he couldn’t look at Ginny. The other half, he kept hearing Ginny’s own words about what a good friend she wanted to be to him and he couldn’t look at her without fear of screaming into her face until he had no breath.
Not tonight. You’re in a good place with her right now. Don’t go down that path tonight, Harry thought as he lay Ginny down on her bed, grateful that he was able to stand straight after.
With gentle fingers, he smoothed the hair back from her forehead. She really had no idea what she did to him, the kind of power she had over him; a smile from her in the morning lifted his day and a frown could sink it to the ocean. He’d vanquish any foe for her, walk around the Earth barefoot a dozen times without stopping, or any other thing she wanted him to. He’d do it gladly.
Except be her friend. The one thing she had asked of him and he couldn’t do that without going mad. But since he couldn’t tell her the one thing a man is supposed to say to get a happily ever after, how could she know he wanted more?
At least he had her in his life again. If camaraderie was truly all she wanted out of their relationship, he’d give her that. He had no choice. It was unimaginable now for him to picture a day without talking to her or the baby.
Harry’s hand drifted to Ginny’s belly, smiling at the flutters he felt. All of the books said that when Ginny slept, the baby was wide awake. He knew the only reason she was sleeping through it now was because of her long day. She was right and truly knackered.
But someone else wasn’t and Harry hadn’t talked to the Snitch all day.
With a quick wave of his hand, he cast a Silencing Charm over Ginny’s head and situated himself on the floor.
“Hey, you,” he whispered to Ginny’s bump. “Did you have fun at the party? Your Mum sure looked like she did. The two of you were up there dancing with Uncle Bart in front of practically the whole village. Next year you get to see what Halloween looks like in the world. You’ll need a costume as well.” Inspiration struck Harry. “A Snitch! The Snitch will be a Snitch! We’ll dress you in gold and give you wings and everyone will want their picture with you because you’ll just be that cute, young la…pardon me. Young man.
“That was a bit of a shock for your Mum, you having a willy. Now, she loves you exactly the same as if you were a girl. I hope you were listening closely to that part when she and I were talking in Uncle Bart’s office. She will be so happy to eat all the mud pies you give her and toss a Quaffle with you for hours. We’ll probably need to get you some new clothes, though. She went pretty heavy with the pastels. You were a surprise for her, that’s all. She just likes to be in control of things. It scares her when she’s not. For such a remarkably brave person, she questions herself far too much for my liking. I hope she doesn’t with you. She has no idea what a great mother she already is. I should make sure she knows that more.”
The baby nudged his palm in response and Harry propped his chin on the bed to get closer to her stomach.
“Not that I know what to say about parenthood or raising a child. I didn’t know my parents. There’s not even any real memory of them in my head, just a few pictures and letters. I was with them today, though. Their graves, I mean. That’s why we didn’t chat much until now. It’s the only way I can talk to them. I don’t hear them talk back or anything, but it’s nice sometimes to just say things instead of keeping them inside your head.”
Hello. My name is Harry and I am a hypocrite.
He sighed, rubbing his head gently over the smooth skin of Ginny’s belly. There were little white lines covering the bump. Stretch marks, another joy that came along with pregnancy. Ginny complained about them being unsightly but to be honest, Harry liked how they felt against his fingertips.
“I told them about you,” Harry continued. “All about you and your Mum living with me these last few months. I almost wish I could have heard them. Everyone else–believe me, everyone else has their opinions on me and your Mum. Most of them are some variation on how crazy the two of us are. Maybe my parents could have offered a fresh perspective or something. You see, they were very brave people and I was hoping that being around their spirits would help me feel brave. It didn’t. It actually made me feel a little worse, to be honest. They faced down the most disgusting creature of evil without hesitation and their only son can’t tell a pretty bird that he like likes her. The papers would get a kick out of that one.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to tell you all these things. It’s not for you to worry about it. You’re only job is getting big enough to come out and meet everyone. I can’t wait for that. My stories will be much better when I can show you pictures of the people I’m telling you about. Like my parents. I have a very nice one of them together. They seemed happy in it. And I won’t be the only one telling you stories about them. Lots of people knew and admired them. My mum, Lily, was a very, very bright witch who had a kind word for nearly everyone she met. Dad was apparently a bit more…rambunctious is the polite term. According to Professor McGonagall, there wasn’t a rule at Hogwarts that James Potter didn’t-Whoa!”
Harry’s hand flew off Ginny’s belly in shock at the flurry of kicks it had just received. His eyes widened in shock at the movement beneath Ginny’s skin, limbs popping up impatiently. Ginny shifted and stretched; Harry dared not breathe for fear of waking her. Finally, she settled back into a deep sleep and Harry sighed quietly in relief.
Carefully, he put his hand back on her stomach.
“What was that, mate?” he whispered. “You almost woke your mother up with that little display. That’s not nice. She needs her rest. You sap up all her energy. Don’t do that again while she’s trying to sleep, okay?” Harry relaxed a little more. “I know how you like hearing stories, but you have to be good or I won’t tell you anymore. Trust me, you want to hear some of these stories. You might hear one someday about a certain map and that certain map was created by none other than James…”
The baby kicked quickly again, but it was softer this time.
“James Potter,” he finished in awe. Two more taps against his hand. The kicks went straight to his heart and started making room for themselves in there.
That’s…That’s a nice name.
******
When facing an adversary in a combat scenario, one must make every attempt to forge a peaceful solution to the conflict. Only after all diplomatic efforts have been put forward and no resolution has been achieved can one engage in offensive measures of capture or containment. Never purposely inflict an injury that would be fatal, but rather attempt to incapacitate the suspect or suspects using spells that will inflict minimal damage. Examples include but are not limited to: Body-Bind Hexes, Confundus Charms, or Stunning Spells aimed at the extremities. If in order to save one’s own life, the lives of fellow Aurors, or civilians, fatal counter-attacks may considered acceptable as a last resort only. Such counter-attacks should be swift and cause immediate death to the suspect without resorting to other Unforgivable Curses.
In the event of capture…
Harry heard the manual he had memorized in his first month of training drone on and on in his head, looping back to the beginning several times over. It still didn’t do any good. It didn’t numb his other senses fully to where he was or to why he was there.
He could still smell the antiseptic covering every inch of the walls; feel the hard plastic digging into his tailbone; taste the dryness his pitiful sobbing had left in the back of his mouth; hear the barely-contained whispers of his companion’s prayers over the din of rustling paper and soft-footed, quick footsteps on the linoleum floor just outside the door.
See her lying on that ballroom floor, pale and shaking as she clutched her swollen abdomen. Her wide eyes looked up at him, shining with fear. More fear than he had ever seen her beautiful eyes in any battle before that.
All because of him.
His friends and Ginny’s family had all said the right words to him when they could. It wasn’t his fault, they told him. It wasn’t intentional and there was no way you could have ever foreseen what would happen.
Couldn’t be foreseen? He had thought to himself when he heard Fleur lay that one on him, hardly able to hold in his hysterics
Harry loved Ginny more than anything in this world. Of course something awful would happen to her.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione pat Mr. Weasley’s arm and come towards him in the far corner of the hospital waiting room he had made his home for the past…what was it? A day? Four days? The hands of the clock may have only moved three hours, but Harry was certain it was a mere trick or charm St. Mungo’s had devised to keep patient’s loved ones from going mad. It wasn’t working all that well.
“Can I get you anything?” Hermione asked, smoothing down the blue silk of her gown as she sat next to him. “Something to drink or maybe a…a sandwich?”
Harry kept his eyes locked in front of him and stayed hunched over with his elbows on his knees. “No thanks,” he said without moving more than his lips. If he didn’t move, everything stayed still and as long as everything stayed still, then there wasn’t a time when some stoic healer would walk into the room and tell them all that despite every magical and medical intervention, Ginny and the Snitch had both…Harry clenched his jaw and forced the vile image from his mind’s eye.
As long as he didn’t move more than breathing, they were both fine.
“Minister Shacklebolt and Director Robards are both down the hall, talking to Bart and Ron,” he heard her say. “They’re still trying to decide what to charge the waiter and the wizards who paid him to spike her drink with. Given that no one knew Ginny was pregnant and that the damage from the potion would have otherwise been much less severe, in addition to all of the men showing such remorse,” Harry’s swollen fist seized and he had to fight to keep his body still, “I think Gawain is inclined to be somewhat lenient with them.
Of course, if you had an opinion on the matter, I’m sure he’d-”
“Tell Robards,” Harry ground out vacantly, “that unless he wants all four of them maimed and murdered, he better put them all somewhere that I’ll never find them.”
Hermione wrapped her arms around his stiff shoulders and pulled him close. Her chest hitched against his shoulders. “Ginny will be just fine,” she said tearfully. “She will be. You have to believe that, Harry.”
Why bother? He thought. What good will my believing do for Ginny and for him? Will it clear the entire potion out her system before it poisons her heart? Will it ensure that her mind isn’t damaged so severely that she winds up in a bed next to Neville’s parents the rest of her life? Will it allow the baby to take a full breath of air in this world? To ever open his eyes? To know his mother? Trust me, Hermione, my belief alone can’t get that done; in this case, it’s actually more likely to have something of an opposite effect.
If he said that out loud, then he’d just wind up hit another wall.
That would require moving.
Harry couldn’t move.
An Auror must be ready at a moment’s notice to be called into action. Every single second could be critical in the event an Auror is needed. It is mandatory that the wand of an Auror must remain holstered at his side during all hours of his shift and within his arm’s reach when he is off-duty. A regimen of exercise and diet is highly recommended to keep Aurors at the peak of their physical strength. Spells and potions for this use are not banned, but as they are not long-lasting, it is preferable for an Auror to-
Hermione gasped quietly to herself and stood up, trembling. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw what Hermione had just seen: Nell, walking by the window of the waiting room.
The healer had red eyes, a sweaty forehead, and a small smile on her face.
Do. Not. Move, he instructed himself as his lungs began to have difficulty taking in air.
Around him, all of the Weasley’s around him stood from the chairs, couches, and floor, all at attention when Nell entered the room. Bart and Ron followed her. Harry remained where he was, though. The healer immediately went to Arthur and Molly, but addressed the room as a whole.
“Ginny and the baby are both doing well. I expect them both to make a full recovery,” she said happily. Collectively, almost everyone in the tiny room sighed deeply with relief and began quietly celebrating. Arthur and Molly sagged against each other while Bill tugged his wife’s back to him and nestled his face in Fleur’s silvery hair; Percy and George all clapped each other on the shoulder as their wives kissed them both soundly. Bart beamed and held out his hand to Ron, who promptly took it and pulled the other man into a giant hug. Hermione leaned down and quickly pulled Harry’s head against her chest before going to Nell and squeezing both her hands in thanks, happy tears shining in both women’s eyes just before Charlie lifted the healer off the ground.
Only Harry didn’t cry or smile or shout with joy. He didn’t rise from his chair or make any move to join the celebration. He simply leaned forward and placed his head between his knees.
Thank you, he said silently to the heavens.
He wasn’t sure if it was God or his parents or Sirius or perhaps even Professor Dumbledore that deserved the credit for keeping Ginny and her son in this world. He just knew he would offer his thanks to whoever was listening every day for the rest of his life.
“She’s…She’s really alright?” Harry lifted his head at Molly’s question. “You’re sure? She and the baby both?”
“Yes,” Nell said as Charlie lowered her back to the ground. The celebration dimmed slightly to hear Nell’s words as she continued. “The potion experts here were able to isolate the Thead before it did any long term damage to her heart and we performed something called a Caesarean Charm to get the baby out before it could enter his bloodstream. Mind you, Ginny is still being treated with a series of antidotes and Charms. It might take up to two days to completely clear her system, but while the process is slow, it’s highly effective.”
“Can we see her?”
“We can have one or two people stay with her in the room,” Nell replied, “and the rest of you can visit in fifteen minute shifts. Now, she won’t be awake. We need to keep her in a deep sleep in order for the cleansing to work properly, as any movement will hinder the treatment, but by all means talk to her and comfort her if you wish to. They’ve done studies that have shown people in comas to recover faster when they’re surrounded by the positive energy of their loved ones.”
“I won’t leave her room until her eyes are open,” Molly vowed, taking in a deep, shaking breath. “What about my grandson? When can I see him?”
“It’ll be a little bit longer wait for him,” Nell said, averting her eyes for a fraction of a second. “His weight and his reflexes are within the normal range. However, he did come into this world a little earlier than we wanted him to and we need to keep him under observation for a few hours to monitor his vitals and his breathing, just as a precaution. When he’s been giving the all clear, we’ll move him near Ginny’s room so she can see him as soon as she wakes up.”
Molly nodded and took Nell’s face in her hands. “I can’t even think about what would have happened if you hadn’t…” Choking back a sob, she pulled Nell in between herself and Arthur. All of the Weasley’s lined up to offer their thanks to a sheepish Nell, in essence welcoming her into their fold. Harry remained where he was, looking down at the floor.
All he could do was tell himself over and over that they were both alright; safe and sound and recuperating from their ordeal. He wondered how long he’d have to say the word to make them true. His mind felt so hazy, so blurred at the edges, he couldn’t help to think that perhaps he was dreaming. Maybe he’d fallen asleep and when he awoke Molly would be crying for a much different reason.
Maybe…
“Hey.” A tap on his head made him raise his eyes up to see Nell smiling down at him, released from the massive group hug.
“Hey,” he said. His lips moved perhaps a millimeter upwards in greeting.
“How are you feeling?”
Feeling? What’s that exactly?
“I’m fine,” he said instead.
She nodded and narrowed her eyes at the cut knuckles of his left hand. “Mind if I have a look at that?”
Knowing an argument was pointless and would distract the relief around him, he offered up his hand for examination. Nell gingerly applied pressure to various points and tested the flexibility of his fingers before waving her wand over it. Harry winced and let her without a sound. “There’s a small hairline fracture just under your knuckle,” she concluded. “We’ll go in an exam room so I can set it and you can get some rest.”
“That’s not necessary,” Harry argues quietly. “You should just…just stay with Ginny, make sure her treatments are going well.”
“She has a team of some of the best healers in Britain working on her. I’d only be in the way, trying to do everything all by myself like I do back home. Come on, your hand needs to be taken care of and you need to sleep for a while.”
“I’m not tired and my hand is fine.”
“Oh, forgive me.” Nell clucked her tongue in sympathy. “My mistake. You think you’re being giving a choice in this matter, don’t you?”
“Nell, I-”
“We could get Hermione over here to see how bruised your knuckles are. Maybe get Molly and tell her that you’re refusing medically-advised treatment. I think knowing her as I do now that she’ll be extremely relaxed about the whole thing.”
Glaring at his friend, Harry hauled himself up to his feet, surprised that he had to grip tightly to Nell’s hand to stay steady. Perhaps laying down for a few minutes wasn’t as bad an idea as he thought.
They made their way slowly out of the crowd, stopping every few steps for hugs, kisses, and whispers of support and thanks. Harry nodded at everyone, clutching at to Nell to keep himself on task. Only a few minutes ago, he hadn’t been able to contemplate life outside the waiting room and now he craved nothing but escape from all the well-meaning people around him. Why were they thanking him? True, he had gotten their daughter and sister to St. Mungos quickly enough that her life and her son’s life had been saved, but did that negate the fact that he had brought her–no, insisted that she go to the event where she and an innocent child had almost died?
It certainly didn’t in his mind. Not in any way, shape, or form.
Finally free of the tangle of people, Harry and Nell walked down the nearly empty corridor. There was snow falling outside, brilliant white against blackness. Christmas wreaths and garland filled with miniature sleeping elves lined the walls. He thought of the tree sitting back in his living room. There was a pile of presents almost waist-high sitting in his closet for him to put underneath it. All the things for the baby that Ginny had wanted to buy, but thought she couldn’t afford. Stuffed animals that purred and hummed; enough clothes to dress three sets of triplets for a year; mobiles with stars and moons that changed each night; warm blankets and knit hats and miniature Quidditch robes in Harpy green and a tiny red sled and most importantly, the broom that the boy would take his very first ride on some day. That was in addition to the new Firebolt model for Ginny and the desk he had gotten for her so she had a nice space for her writing. Ginny had taken to knitting in the living room late into the night as of late so Harry hadn’t been able to put anything under the tree yet. Now he wouldn’t have to bother. There was no chance that she’d want to even see his face when she woke up, let alone accept gifts for him. All he could do was hope that she wouldn’t do anything rash and at least stay in the house until her trial was over. He’d be more than happy to stay locked in his room for next three weeks until she was officially a citizen. Then the house could be hers. Hers and the baby’s. There were other places in the world he could go to live out his existence, but Hastom was where Ginny belonged.
Nell put her hand on his shoulder and gently stopped him outside a doorway far away from the waiting room, leaning him against the wall. Taking his injured hand, she raised her wand to it and murmured an incantation before tapping it with the end of her wand. A quick burn in his knuckle made him recoil, but it faded quickly and while his hand was still sore, he was able to move it without much pain.
“I needed an exam room for you to do that?” Harry asked. He flexed his fingers and raised his eyebrows at her.
“No, I just needed a plausible excuse to get you out here. It seemed like the one you’d fight me the least on.”
“What’s going on?”
“First things first,” she began, eying him sharply. “You need to promise me that you won’t tell the Weasley’s that I lied to them a little bit. They’re all very nice people and-”
“What?” His stomach twisted into a coiled rope. Why hadn’t he stayed in the room? Why had he moved? “What do you mean you lied to them? What-?”
“A little white one,” she interrupted holding up her hand to stop his questions, “nothing serious or life-altering, I promise. Everything is fine with both our patients, just like I said. However, I did slightly stretch a few truths to suit my needs, which will actually be a bigger benefit to you than to me.”
“What. Truths?” Harry asked through clenched teeth.
Amazingly, she smiled at him and pecked his rigid cheek. Forcibly turning him, she led him into the empty room and waved her wand, the room lighting softly around them.
Correction, the nearly empty room. A rocking chair sat by the window looking out into the night and in the middle…
Harry watched unblinking from the doorway as Nell walked towards the bassinette in the middle of the room and reached inside it, pulling out a small wad of white blankets. She rocked expertly back and forth on the balls of her feet.
“Come on in,” she cooed softly to his suddenly immobile form. “No one in here will bite, at least for about ten to twelve more months. My white lie was about him needing to be observed for a few hours. I just wanted to give you a chance to get acquainted.” She beamed up at Harry, her hands gently holding the lightly quivering bundle against her. “Because I have someone here who would like very much to meet you.”
Sweet Godric, he thought, unable to take his off the tiny being in Nell’s arms.
It was him, the little Snitch he had felt kick against his hand and talked to about Quidditch for hours. The one who made his mother glow from the inside out and the one who had inadvertently turned Harry’s entire world on its head in way Harry had never imagined but would never regret.
He was actually here.
“This young man is getting lonely,” Nell whispered in a singsong voice. There was a small whine from amidst the blankets and Nell hushed him softly. “He wants someone big and strong to hold him.”
“No,” Harry croaked out of his parched throat. His chest thumped so loud he could hear his heartbeat against his ears. Was he having a heart attack? “I…I…I can’t.”
“Why ever not?”
It would be so much easier if his hands didn’t want so desperately to feel the weight of the child in their palms, to feel the wisps of his hair–if he had any–on the tips of his fingers, to trace down his nose to see if it followed the angle of Ginny’s. If he didn’t want that, he could turn on his heel and leave this room right now to fetch the proud grandparents. But he couldn’t.
He was so very weak.
“Ginny,” he managed to say, his eyes never leaving the blankets Nell held. What he wouldn’t give right then to possess her body for only a few minutes. “Ginny should hold him first. She’s been, uh, waiting for so long to…to meet him.”
“That she has,” Nell agreed. “Unfortunately, she won’t be able to for a little while and as much as the rest of his family wants to introduce themselves to him, I have this gut feeling that the first person he spends some time with should be someone he knows already. Given what he’s been through already, he needs someone familiar that he’ll be comfortable with.”
“I’m not…” Harry was glad he was in a hospital; it would make it easier to get treatment when his heart exploded inside him. “I shouldn’t…he isn’t mi-”
“Harry,” Nell cut him off in a tone he had learned long ago not to argue with, “Come and hold my godson right now.”
Well… if she insists like that…she is the healer, his disoriented mind reasoned.
On legs of stone, Harry walked closer, but as soon as he did, Nell stepped away, going to the rocking chair. Urging him to sit, she waited until he had taken in a deep breath to calm his shaking hands before she gently lowered the baby into them. She positioned him until Harry was supporting the baby in the crook of his elbow, his other hand supporting the baby’s head while Harry stared down into the wrinkled face of the baby. The tiny eyes were scrunched closed and his lips were moving up and down.
“I’ll just leave you two alone for a bit,” he distantly heard Nell say. She sounded as if she were underwater, at least in his mind. Harry never looked up. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to again. He definitely knew he didn’t want to.
As hard as his heart had been hammering before, it increased tenfold sitting with the Snitch. The muscle contracted over and over, his chest tightening like a vice. His lungs compressed and no air could pass. There was no breath to call for help as his heart continued to gallop. It must be beating over a hundred beats a minute, perhaps even two hundred. Was this his death, not at the hand of a vicious disciple of Voldemort but rather at the hands of a child only hours old? He knew he should try to get up for help or at least try to put the Snitch back in the safety of the bassinette but he couldn’t. Harry hissed loudly as the pain in his chest was compounded by his inability to breathe. The sound startled the baby and he struggled to open his eyes.
Harry gasped when he finally did, not in pain; rather, in shock.
He has his mother’s eyes, Harry thought incredulously. The exact same shape and the perfect shade of chocolate, just like Ginny. Harry’s heart sputtered to a sudden stop as he stared down into the same eyes he had imagined seeing on his first march to death. How fitting they were with him on his second.
The baby blinked blearily at him and yawned with his entire body. He burrowed his head closer to Harry’s silent chest. When his mind registered the weight and warmth he felt through his white button-down, it started up again. One beat and then another a few seconds later. More after that until Harry was unable to draw in a choking breath. With every beat, the organ became stronger; Harry was almost positive it stretched and grew inside him, would swear it under oath if need be. It was heavier as well. There was a weight to it that hadn’t been there a few months ago or even an hour ago.
As his heart settled back into a steady rhythm, the baby cooed and closed his eyes again. The tears slipped from Harry’s eyes and splashed onto the blanket, but Harry paid no attention to them. How could he? How could he think of himself ever again when there was this boy to consider?
“Hi,” Harry finally whispered. “It’s nice to meet you.” It may have just been a reflex or probably just an illusion in Harry’s mind, but he was positive the Snitch tried to lift his head up at the sound of Harry’s voice. “I’ve…I’ve been waiting to meet you for a very long time. It was only a few months, but it actually feels now that it was much longer. Maybe my whole life.” Harry laughed quietly as the baby made a face. “Okay, that was a bit sappy, wasn’t it? Sorry, mate. I’m usually not sappy. Had a bit of a rough night to be honest. Nothing compared to you and your mother, though.”
The Snitch gave off another whimper and wriggled in Harry’s hold. Remembering the chair they were sitting in, Harry used it to create a soothing rocking motion, patting the baby’s bottom and relaxing the stiffness of his arms until the newborn settled again.
“I don’t want you to worry about your mum not being here,” Harry continued, his voice surer and stronger “She’ll be with you soon. She’s just…under the weather right now. But she has the best healers in the whole world and if she needs more of them, I’ll get them here straight away. I know she can’t wait to see you. You’re the only thing she’s thought about for ages now. You have no idea how much she loves you. She’s been planning your nursery, learning how to cook for you, knitting you clothes. But, uh, about the clothes? Just whatever she tells you they are, please agree with her. If she says something’s a sweater, that’s what it is, even if it has three and half arms. Okay?”
His finger reached out to smooth a soft red eyebrow. Who knew that something so small could have an eyebrow? “You look so much like her. I mean there are traces of your Grandad and some of your uncles, but you really are her, especially the eyes. Which is a good thing in my book. I admit I was a little worried. I thought that maybe you’d come out and look like…well, like someone you shouldn’t. You don’t, though. I just see your mother. That’s good. It’s almost like you’re hers and…” Harry’s smile became wistful. “Well, you’re hers. That’s all you need to be for me.”
He had forgotten how powerful love was; he’d had to after all the fraught it brought into his world in the wake of losing Ginny. Even when he found her again, a part of him desperately shied away from revealing to her all she was to him. If he did that and he somehow lost her again, there would be no saving him. But if losing her love back then had led to this, led to the baby in his arms, as painful as it had been for Harry all these years, then maybe it had all been worth it.
No, Harry thought, watching in fascination as a hand no bigger than a Sickle wiggled its way out of the blankets and reached towards him. Harry tucked it between his thumb and forefinger, massaging the palm. It’s most certainly worth it.
He leaned down and pressed his lips against the baby’s forehead, inhaling the rich sweetness of new life that flowed into his nostrils. “I love you,” he murmured against the satin skin. The baby offered no reply. Harry didn’t need one. All he needed was for the little boy to just be, to live and breathe in Harry’s life.
******
The ground crunched under Harry’s feet as he Apparated back into the village square, fresh snow cushioning his landing. The crowd from Ginny’s ceremony had largely dispersed, but a few revelers remained and his eyes scanned them as he searched for the one holding the person he was looking for until, at last, he found them on the dance floor.
Nell. Dancing. With an infant in her arms.
“Not good,” he muttered to himself, hurrying over to the pair. When he reached them, his arms immediately went for the Snitch, holding him against his chest before Nell could drop him. “Hey mate! Were you having fun with Auntie Nell?”
“He was,” Nell told Harry, smiling as he kissed the baby’s head. “I think he was wondering where you and his Mummy went off to, though.” She raised her eyebrows expectedly.
“I was just tucking her into bed.”
“Well, that’s a good start if I ever heard one.”
“To sleep, thank you very much. Don’t talk about…that in front of him, will you?” Harry blushed a little, lowering his voice. “It’s bad enough I dream some of the things I do about his mother when he’s sleeping ten feet away from me.”
“She looked exhausted.”
“Fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. It was a big night for her. For you, too,” he told the Snitch. The baby stretched in the tight hold and Harry rubbed the boy’s back in comfort, feeling the deep breaths through the palm of his hand.
“No talking then, I assume? About matters of romance and future plans and living arrangements?” Nell asked as they started slowly walking away from the party.
“We have time for that,” Harry said simply. “You put a Warming Charm on his clothes and blankets, right?”
“Of course. He’ll be fine until you get home. Now I don’t mean to pry, but-”
“Wait, what? Excuse me? Did I hear right?”
“No lip from you, Potter!”
“I’m not going to joke. I don’t have time for it. I need to get in contact with the press, hold a news conference to mark this historic occasion so that future generation can understand-”
“Quite done?”
“Yes,” he said, schooling his features.
“What I was going to say before I was rudely interrupted by your mockery is that it’s probably best for you and Ginny to not put something this serious off. I know that right now everything is going well between you two and that’s wonderful, but just because the world looks all bright and shiny doesn’t mean that there’s not work to be done.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” She made him stop at the outskirts of the square to face her. “Have you taken the time to understand the issues you two have to face?”
“Such as?”
“The tendency on both your parts to break things off when it gets-”
“Hey, I left her to keep her safe,” Harry interjected in a low voice.
“According to Ginny, that’s why she left you.”
“Yeah, well the difference is the threat to her life was actually real and not in my head.”
“See? This is what I’m talking about! You can’t be with her if there’s still a part of you that’s angry for what she did by ending the relationship. And for what she did afterwards. And who she was doing it with.” She looked pointedly down at her godson.
Trust me. I know exactly what she was doing away from me and if I let myself think on it more than a few-
The Snitch cooed and blinked Ginny’s brown eyes back up at him.
He hated this. He hated feeling such conflict in his soul. The woman he had loved for years unrequited now loved him return. They shared a beautiful home together and spent their days watching the most amazing creature ever imagined grow before their eyes. There should be no part of Harry ill at ease yet Nell’s words brought to the surface the war he had waged between his heart and mind for months:
How could he love Ginny fully if a part of him still hated what she had done to him? And how could he hate her if what she had done had led to the child who was becoming the center of his world with each passing hour?
It was enough to dizzy even the most surefooted of men and Harry had never considered himself in that company.
“Nell,” he finally said to appease the worry in his friend’s eyes, “I get it. I do and I will sit down and start talking with her. I’m sure she’s going to have some choice words for me as well.”
“I don’t mean to be a nag,” she apologized. “You and Ginny…You’re my family and I don’t have much of it left. I only want you to be happy. All of you.” She tickled the bottom of the baby’s foot, trying to get a giggle from him. “Ginny said he smiled the other day.”
“Yes, he did,” Harry replied, beaming with pride. “Overheard some of my more harsh commentary on the opinions of modern Seeking. Ginny was so proud she forgot to chew me out for cursing.”
“I’m sure she’ll get around to it.” Nell sneaked a look at her husband, sharing a drink with a few other citizens on the other side of the square. “Bart says he’s been talking with you about he and I having a baby.”
“Actually, I’m just using emersion therapy with him. You know, keeping him around the Snitch here so much that he’ll be an old pro by the time your kid comes along.”
“He says that it helps a lot, talking with you and seeing you with the baby,” she said seriously. “It’s even getting him a little bit excited for when we have…” She ran her fingers through the baby’s dark hair. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
Harry nodded in understanding. “I have to get this little man to bed. Goodnight.”
“Sleep well.” With a kiss to his cheek, Nell set them on their way, returning to Bart as Harry made his way down the path towards the lake.
Their trip back was steady, unrushed. The cold air didn’t affect the Snitch because of the charms and Harry enjoyed how the night sounded in Hastom. No hum of cars or electricity or radios buzzing static; just the gentle brush of the trees or the murmuring of a mother bird for her young.
“I know you don’t really know any different,” Harry told the baby, “but the night isn’t like this everywhere. In some places, it’s loud and scary. It was like that where I grew up. I lived…I lived somewhere small and cramped when I was younger and sometimes I’d get woken up by something banging overhead. I’d smash my head sometimes, I startled so badly. Or…Or I’d wake up because I had a bad dream about a very bad green light, only there’d be no one to hug me and tell me everything was alright.” He rested his nose on the baby’s scalp, shivering slightly. “You’ll never know what that’s like, I promise.”
They walked in silence until they reached the house. The Snitch started fussing as soon as Harry had the door open.
Uh-oh. That’s the hungry cry, right before he gets going.
“Hey, hey. None of that. I’ll fix you up; you just can’t drink from the source right now. Mummy needs to get some rest, remember?” Hustling into the kitchen, he grabbed one of the bottles Ginny had already prepared and warmed it as quickly as he could with his wand. The Snitch made a face of disgust as he tasted the rubber of the nipple, but hunger won out and he settled in to eat his fill.
Doing his best not to disturb the baby, Harry eased his body down in one of the kitchen chairs.
“You know one time, Teddy–you remember Teddy, right? He’s my godson. You’re going to learn a lot from him about your abilities. Anyways, one time when he was a baby, just starting to walk, I turned my back on him for one minute and he toddled into the kitchen at his grandmother’s. Do you know what he did?” The baby suckled harder in reply. “He somehow managed to get a container of flour and an entire jar of honey upended all over his head, even though both items were on opposite ends of the room. He’s a crafty little bugger, that Teddy Lupin.” Harry winced to himself. “Oh, uh, don’t tell your mum I said bugger in front of you, alright? She says we shouldn’t swear around you, even though,” he checked quickly to make sure Ginny wasn’t anywhere nearby, “your mum is the one who called Ludo Bagman a dragon pox-infested arsehole during a Christmas party at the Ministry only a few years ago. If you get any kind of mouth, you’ll get it from her. However, that’s the last time I’ll be able to pass the buck so remember it well, mate.”
When well over a quarter of the bottle was gone, the baby spit it out and Harry propped the boy over his shoulder until he was rewarded with a loud burp.
“Definitely Weasley blood in you. A belch like that can only come from someone related to your uncle Ron.” His laugh trailed off and an ache of somberness fell over him. “Alright, we need to talk for a minute,” he whispered in the baby’s ear. “It’s not something I like going into or thinking about all that much, but we need to deal with it. You see, the thing is–and I want you to understand that this changes absolutely nothing between us–your mum got pregnant with you because of…of someone else. So that means I’m not…By blood you and I aren’t…There isn’t a…”
The Snitch sneezed and buried his nose into Harry’s neck.
“I’m not your birth father,” Harry said in a rush around the small lump in his throat. “Okay? There, I said it. That’s going to matter to some people later on as you get older. It never will to me, though. Understand? There is nothing about you I would ever change and that includes the fact that another person gets credit for making you. Because young man, you wouldn’t be you if I had been your dad from the start,” Harry turned his head to try and catch the baby’s eye, “and I can’t even a picture my life without you in it. I know we’ll have to do this again later on, maybe more than once, and that’s fine. I just want you to know from the very beginning how much I love you, okay? You and your mum both. You’ll probably hear some things about her, too. Some of them may be true and some may be false. Either way, don’t pay attention to it. She’s your mum and she loves you with everything inside her, just like I love you and her. It may not always be easy with me and her as we work this whole thing out, but we’re already doing loads better than before. We’re not keeping things from each other this time and we’ve been as honest as we can be. That’s the best thing we can do for us and for you.”
He leaned forward and bumped his nose lightly against the Snitch’s, smiling as the baby stuck his tongue out a little.
“You tired yet, mate? Ready to turn in?” The boy reached up blindly for Harry’s chin and Harry chuckled in response, his melancholy fading. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Say, do you want to see something neat I got for your mum? It’s up in my study. I’m thinking about giving it to her soon, maybe even tomorrow. It might be a little crazy to do; surely Auntie Nell would have my head if she knew, but you won’t tell on me, right? Good. So let’s to go look at the ring I have for Mummy.”
******
Harry raised his hand to knock on the front door, only to drop it again for the fourth time in as many minutes. He pressed his back against the rough brick wall and dug the palms of his hands into his eyes.
I can’t do this, he thought, despair almost bringing him to his knees at the thought of what was beyond Bart and Nell’s front door. I-I can’t do this.
Give him Death Eaters, Dementors, angry Centaurs, and a hundred incarnations of Voldemort, lined up one after the other. He’d take them all and thank them for their troubles.
Just not this. Anything except this.
Anything except goodbye.
He wanted to forget about the Snitch, wanted to use every Memory Charm known to wizardry to banish the little boy’s existence from his mind so he could find some sort of peace again. Yet every time he raised the wand to his head or stood at the fireplace to go and find Hermione to do it for him, he couldn’t. For as much as it pained him to see the image of the baby smiling joyful in his head or remember the weight of the boy as he slept across Harry’s chest, it didn’t compare to the pain he felt if he let himself think of not having those memories; if he let himself completely forget his time with the baby and with Ginny.
The past was something Harry couldn’t allow himself to live in any longer, not if he valued what little of his sanity he had left.
He just couldn’t seem to leave it behind, either.
The only comfort he let himself have was in knowing that Ginny and the baby’s futures were secure. Lionel Dresden had lost and lost mightily. It was the very least he deserved for what he had put Sara Walters (and Merlin knew how many other witches) through. As he had sat with Sara in her tiny apartment weeks ago listening to her tell a story so nightmarish and horrific, Harry–a seasoned Auror and war survivor who knew intimately what Death smelled like–felt his stomach turning unpleasantly. Not just for what that vile shite monger had done to Sara, but for another undeniable truth:
The only reason the Snitch was alive was because of Dresden and Harry wanted to cry out at the unfairness of it all because that monster–that loathsome creature–was lucky enough to be connected in some way to the most amazing, precious boy in the whole world.
Harry had saved the world once or twice. Wasn’t he entitled to the best parts of it?
No. Not after what I did to Ginny.
If he could make himself forget one thing about the past two months, it would be the morning the article about the Snitch appeared; the morning he had destroyed his whole life with a handful of choice words. It had all happened so fast he hadn’t time to take stock of the emotions and thoughts speeding through his nervous system. Did he have the right to be angry with Ginny after being lied to by her for months? Naturally, he thought he did. Did he have just cause to berate her for the hell she had put him through with her notions of what was best for him? Without question.
But did he have to call her a slut and a whore to do it? Make her feel like the worst mother in the history of mankind? Hell, the worst person in the history of mankind?
There was no way for Harry to justify something like that, no matter how angry he had been. If she had wanted to fling a Killing Curse at him in reply, he bet the jury wouldn’t have had any problem acquitting her. However, she had answered him with something far worse than death:
“YOU’RE NOT HIS FATHER!”
Using legality and genetics as the measuring sticks, Ginny had been right. Those sticks, however, didn’t take into account what Harry’s heart had done when he had seen that baby for the first time or every other time since then. They couldn’t make sense of the fact that Harry knew if he was put blindfolded into a dark room that he’d be able to find the baby because the scent of the Snitch was imprinted into his sense of smell and they certainly didn’t understand the agony that had been the last several weeks of not hearing the Snitch’s suckling against his mother’s breast.
That was his child, his baby, just as much as Ginny’s. That was all the Snitch had ever been to Harry, ever since New York and every moment after. He would be for the rest of his life.
Even if it was a life Harry would never be a part of after tonight.
The door opened next to him and Harry lowered his hands to see Bart standing in front of him.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Bart said softly, throwing a glance over his shoulder into the living room. “I just called you because I thought, you know, this might be the last time you…”
“Yeah,” Harry nodded. He straightened and wiped his sweaty palms against his jeans. “Ginny…she doesn’t know, right? That I am here? She didn’t suspect anything when you offered to take the baby for the evening?”
“No, she’s working on an article or something for the paper. She’s not half-bad at this writing thing. Maybe you should check out some of her work.”
Harry had already, reading over her first two editorials until he had them memorized. Speaking with a fully unbiased opinion, he thought she was brilliant. She was clear and concise, witty when she needed to be and full of righteous indignation when it was called for. It made him feel closer to her, reading her words that she had sent out into the great void. Those were the only words of hers he could read. He knew deep down that if he dared even open a corner of the envelope of one of the many, many letters she had sent him that it would be his undoing; that he’d crawl back to Ginny on his hands and knees for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.
She’ll be better off without me. She’ll hurt less when I’m not around anymore. That’s it. That’s all there is to know. The sooner I leave, the sooner she can get on with her life. It’s selfish to stay.
It was funny. In his training to become an Auror, Harry had seen dozens of his fellow trainees run away from obstacles and curses during live training exercises, scoffing to himself as he hunkered down further in his position. Now here he was, running as far away as he possibly could. Perhaps some of those he had scoffed at would call him a coward now. He knew better, though. He was doing it for the greater good and if ever there was someone who understood what the greater good looked like, it was Harry Potter.
“So, uh, he’s right in there kind of snoozing,” Bart said, easing back towards the interior. Harry’s stomach tightened in anticipation and dread. “Take all the time you need with him. I won’t bother you two and Nell’s already down for the night.”
“Bit early for her, isn’t it?” Harry asked without moving, making sure to keep his voice low. He didn’t want to startle the baby.
“Well she’s…she’s a bit under the weather.”
“Now that’s always fun. Seeing the good Healer Nixon overpowered by the common cold or a bad piece of fish,” he rambled. “Is she experimenting with treatments again to find the most efficient one? Because last time she tried that, she smelled oranges everywhere for a month and her fingernails turned-”
“Actually, she’s pregnant.”
The fluttering of happiness Harry’s heart gave out was overshadowed by a sharp pang of jealousy.
“Congratulations,” he whispered without looking at his friend.
“Look, I’m sorry that-”
“No, no, don’t apologize,” Harry recovered, face reddening in shame. “That’s…That’s wonderful news. I’m happy for both of you.”
At least mostly he was.
“I figure if I behave and play my cards right for the next few months, maybe she’ll let me realize my dream to name by firstborn son Han.”
“You know, Nell shouldn’t be getting too emotional or upset right now and if…if she knows I’m here it’ll become a great big scene.” Harry was already two strides down the lane of the Nixon’s house. “I should probably-”
“Wait!” Bart caught up to him quickly, catching his eye. “Look, I know I don’t understand yet what you feel for him and I won’t until I’m holding my own kid but you have to…Think about your own dad for a minute; don’t you think he would have wanted a chance to say goodbye to you?”
Stop talking, Harry begged in his head. Please stop talking. Just let me leave. I-I can’t do this.
“He misses you. The baby, he misses you so much.” Harry stiffened under his friend’s hand on his shoulder slowly turning them back towards the open front door and walking them up the stone path. “Let him see you one last time before you leave.”
Harry was just close enough to make out a pair of tiny, fuzzy-red feet moving restlessly just past an armchair; his breath struggled to escape his chest.
“I’ll be in the other room if you need me.” Bart drifted away from his side and disappeared into the house.
You know he was probably lying, right? Harry thought as his feet shuffled forward, his hands shaking as he clenched and unclenched his fists. It’s been so long, the Snitch won’t even remember-
All thought vanished as he came face to face with the little boy in question. Harry’s mouth dropped open when the Snitch looked up at him and he grasped the doorjamb tightly.
The baby blinked once, then twice before he spit out his dummy and came alive with a bright grin, his hair shifting to match the man in front of him as his body wiggled with joy and excitement.
Love had never been as beautiful or painful to Harry. Even though he knew the fresh torment that awaited him after this vis…after this goodbye, a smile still found its way to his face at the sight of his child.
“Hey mate,” he whispered, his feet moving forward much faster than before until the Snitch’s sweet smell engulfed him when he fell to his knees in front of the carrier. He drank it in greedily as he attempted to free the baby from his confines, a feat made harder by the baby’s giddiness. When he finally had the Snitch free, Harry held him in his arms, marveling at how much he had changed in such a short time. “You’re so big now. How did you get so big?”
The baby babbled in his ear in response and Harry cupped a hand over the back of the boy’s head, grateful to feel the silky texture of the soft hair against his skin once more. He fell against the back of the couch, rocking them together, his heart singing and dying as each moment passed. Soon, it wasn’t enough to just hold him; Harry needed to see him again and he propped the baby on his knees.
It was almost as if this was a different child then the one he had last seen weeks ago. There was fullness to the baby’s face that hadn’t been there before; he was more alert and animated, the gurgles and soft moans and coos carrying a story behind them. He was more active as well. When his hands grasped at Harry’s sleeves or fingers, they gripped with much more force and his eyes…
He really does have his mother’s eyes, Harry thought sadly, seeing so much of the woman he loved in the Snitch. It only made the boy more beautiful. Pressing a kiss against the baby’s forehead, Harry almost let himself become undone by the thought of what he was about to lose.
Almost.
Now with the moment of separation truly upon them, words flowed with the strength of a mighty river through his mind, words he needed to say out loud to his child. They should have been said over time, over years and years of watching this boy grow into a strong young man, but Harry didn’t have that option anymore so he’d say them now, even if the boy would never have a memory of them.
“I want you,” Harry began slowly, “to have the best life possible. I want you to run and play and make lots of friends and I don’t mean the kind that are just good to go to a Quidditch match with and get a pint afterwards, but the kind that really know you; the ones who know the worst about you and still love you anyway. Make sure to have some of those. You’ll always need them, no matter what you do.”
“Get on a broom as early as you can and stay there for as long as your mum will let you. Which if I know here will be a good long while. You’ll go the fastest on a Firebolt and you’ll have more control on something like a Nimbus. It’s up to you to decide which is best. Just like with Quidditch. You’re going to have a lot of people lobbying for certain positions and teams. I’d always tell you go with Seeking and the Harpies, but that’s just me.”
“You’re going to have a lot of cousins growing up at the Burrow. I know sometimes it’ll probably feel like you can get lost in the shuffle of so many people. You won’t, though. You’ll have a family. A big, loud brood of a family that noses into your business and can still make you feel like a little kid when you sit down to a Sunday lunch. That’s…That’s a good thing.”
“Go to Auntie Hermione about every type of spell and schoolwork. Except Dinvination, of course, but you’re allowed to just make things up in that class. Go to Uncle Ron for sports, gags, and anything related to food. Do not go to him if you have a question about girls. It took him seven years to kiss Auntie Hermione and believe me when I say that it wasn’t fun for anyone involved.”
“Auntie Nell will always feed you fruit salads and veggie pies when you go to her house for dinner. Eat it and then afterwards, sneak with Uncle Bart into his office because for every string bean you eat, he’ll give you a piece of chocolate.”
“They’re wonderful people, but if Auntie Luna or Hagrid ever tries to give you an animal of any kind, take it straight to another adult immediately before your clothes catch on fire or you lose a thumb.”
“There’s a café in Oslo that makes something called a kringla that is absolutely delicious. Better than almost anything you grannie will make, as strange as that sounds. There’s also an amazing view of the mountains from the terrace outside. Go there someday when you’re older. You’ll think you landed in heaven.”
“You’re going to be very lucky for a host of reasons but one of the most important is that you’ll have known your magical your whole life. When you get to school, though, there’s going to be kids there that hadn’t known what they were until a professor came to find them and their parents. They’ll have grown up thinking they were strange and different. Freaks. I want you to be kind to them all. Help them if they need it and defend them against anyone who says they’re less of a wizard for being born Muggle.”
“I’ve done a lot of great things in my time as an Auror. Helped people and put evil men in Azkaban where they belong. With all that being said, I hope you do something different when you get bigger. There’s just so much danger involved in what I do and I-I don’t think I’d ever survive if I found out you were a part of raid that went terribly wrong.”
“Y-Your mum is going to take such good care of you…” Harry stopped to collect himself. “So for all that she’s going to do for you, I want you to be extra good for her. Don’t cause trouble all the time and don’t fight her every chance you get. It won’t seem like it, but she’ll be right most of the time. Make her so proud of you and make her smile when her day has been hard. And if…if…when she meets someone that she wants to be…when she gets…”
The baby blew a raspberry and smiled happily, oblivious to anything except his own delight at being with Harry again.
“I wish it were me. I wish so much that I was worthy of her and of you, but I don’t think that I am. You two should only have the best things in this life and that isn’t me. Not after what I said to your mum. I know now she was only trying to help me because she l-loved me and I should have been calmer about everything, but I wasn’t and I hurt her in a way that I can’t take back, even if she let me. Which she shouldn’t. Because she’s wonderful and deserves someone who will never take that fact for granted. Make sure whoever she ends up with understands that, okay?”
Harry’s legs began to cramp up and he realized how late it was, how long he’d been here with the baby. It would be time soon.
“I love you,” he said, brushing his thumb along the Snitch’s cheek. “You’re the best thing that ever came along in my life and even if this is the last time we ever see each other, I would never want to trade any of the days or the seconds we had together. Your mum was a big part of why I walked into the forest that night; I didn’t know it then but you were the other part, the part Dumbledore meant when he said I was capable of love. I could never have imagined how much of it existed inside me until I met you. Thank you, my son. Thank you so much for letting me love you.”
He heard the footsteps beside him just as the baby’s eyes started drifting closed.
No! Not yet! Harry screamed inside his head. Please not yet…
******
“Not yet,” Harry mumbled against his pillow before he shot up straight from his bed. The room swirled around him and he took a moment to get his bearings.
Ginny lay stretched out next to him, her arm reaching towards him. With a sigh of relief, her took her hand and kissed her ring finger, her wedding bad cool against his lips.
A dream. Just a bad dream. Well, a bad memory at any rate.
It didn’t surprise him that this night in particular still unnerved his psyche. Even as he lit the candles in the Jack-O-Lanterns before dinner, a part of him knew that something terrible would follow him into his dreams. He just didn’t expect it to be the night he had said goodbye to James so long ago. With the adrenaline still pumping through him, Harry carefully got out of bed and put on his robe, walking over to the bassinette to check on the baby.
Albus was a much better sleeper than James was at three months, much quieter and easier to please. Ginny worried sometimes that there was something wrong with him, that he had some strange, exotic disease that left him unable to cry when he needed something. When she got into one of those fits, Harry simply took the baby from her and kissed her, asking her not to look the gift hippogriff in the mouth that was an easy baby.
Adjusting the blankets of his youngest one more time, Harry padded out of the bedroom and softly opened the door to James’s room.
All of the excitement of Halloween had knackered the poor boy because he didn’t so much as shift when Harry walked to his bed and knelt beside it. The poor stuffed Knealze, Monty, was trapped under James but Harry knew better than to try and free the toy; if Monty was ever out of his grip, a full-fledged tantrum was never far behind.
What a fool he had been. To this day, Harry shook his head sometimes at what he had almost lost through his stupidity and was grateful the next minute that he had the love of a woman who fought as hard as Ginny did when she wanted something. Had it not been for her tenacious nature, his goodbye to James that night could have been the real thing.
Harry leaned forward and rested his head on the pillow next to his son. James blinked awake slowly.
“Daddy?”
“Hey mate. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“S’okay.” James yawned and snuggled down into Monty. “Can I go Treat Tricking again later?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“How come?”
“Because I think you got every bit of candy in Hastom already.”
“Oh. Can we go flying then? Just us? No Al?”
“Sure we can. Al’s too little to fly anyways.”
“He smells sometimes.”
“All babies do. You did, when you were that small.”
“Was I cute like Mummy says Al is?”
Harry smiled softly. “You were the most beautiful thing I ever saw. All squirmy and wrinkled when you were born.” He nuzzled his nose against James’s. “And you know what else?”
“What?”
“You smelled like three-day old rubbish mixed with Skewert droppings.”
James giggled and shut his eyes.
“You’re silly, Daddy.”
Harry kissed his forehead. “Say that again, mate.”
“You’re. Silly. Daddy.”
“Yup, that’s me. James Sirius Potter’s silly Daddy.”
The End
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