Harry walked into the house as quietly as he could. He was
three hours late, and he didn't want to wake the boys if they were asleep.
It took a minute to find the little ball that was Albus, all curled up under
the blanket at the foot of his bed. Harry smiled, tried to tuck the blanket
around him properly, and kissed his forehead. As usual, Albus didn't stir.
James was easy to find. He was sprawled out over most of his cot, the blanket
flung off the bed. Harry tucked him in as well and retrieved the stuffed dog
from the floor under James's hand. That was unusual; James normally slept with
a bear. If she was awake, and not too terribly angry with him, Harry'd ask Ginny why.
He let the carton of ice cream precede him into the bedroom. Before he made it
to the door, Ginny laughed. "It's OK," she said. "You've already
had your punishment. C'mon in. And bring a couple of spoons."
Harry summoned two spoons as he walked into their bedroom. Ginny was in bed,
reading one of their childcare books. She was wearing a flannel nightgown, and
Harry thought he'd never seen anyone as beautiful as she was now, seven months
pregnant with their third child. He knew better than to say so, though, until
he was more sure of her mood. He didn't want to sleep on the couch tonight.
"What was my punishment?" he asked.
Ginny grinned. "Well, James asked me this evening why I had to get big for
the baby to be born. Turns out he thought we just picked it up at the hospital.
I've no idea where he thought he or she is now; I think he thinks we'll just
conjure the baby on its birthday."
Harry chuckled. It was fun seeing the world through the eyes of a
four-year-old. Most of the time, anyway.
"Hermione gave me a copy of the book her parents used to explain where
babies come from, since she thought this would be a good 'teaching moment'.
It's nice; it explains flowers and bees, chickens, dogs and then people. The
illustrations are photographs of paper cut-outs. Muggle,
obviously, but very nice."
Harry nodded. It sounded vaguely familiar; he'd probably seen it as a child
himself.
"So, I read him the bit about the flowers and bees, which was fine. Then I
read him the part about the chickens, which led to a discussion about Grandma's
chickens and what kind of eggs he likes and doesn't like. With
me so far?"
Harry nodded. His punishment was obviously that he'd missed this discussion,
but he didn't see why Ginny was so amused.
"Then I read him the part about the dogs. Now, this book talks about the
parts, inside and out, that are involved. So, we get to see the daddy dog's
penis and testicles. And James, James..." Ginny broke into giggles. Harry
grinned and waited for the punch line, which was sure to be a good one. James
had an interesting way of looking at the world. "So, he looks at the book,
points at the picture of the testicles, and says, 'I've got those, Mommy. See?'
and he starts to pull them out."
It was too much for Ginny and once again she started giggling. Harry joined
her; it must have been quite the picture. "I tried to keep it cool,"
she said when she could talk again, "and said he didn't need to show me;
I'd seen them. Then I had to explain when. And I had to tell him that, yes,
Daddy has them, and Grandpa has them, and Albus has them, and . . . I was
finally able to finish the book with him, but I don't know how much he
absorbed. When I asked him if he had any questions at the end, he wanted to
know why the bees pollinated the flowers!"
Harry laughed. "Yes, I certainly do have them," he said, grinning at
his lover. "Shall I show you?" Their love-making that night had a lot
more laughter than usual, and Ginny spent a lot more time playing with his
balls. It was one of the nicer late night greetings Harry had ever had;
sometimes, Harry couldn't believe how much he loved his family--all four of
them.
That Sunday, Hermione came in after having put the children down for their nap
and said, "I think you need to explain where babies come from to James; he
was telling Albus and Rose and it didn't make much sense. Have you looked at
that book I gave you?" She was more than a bit put out when Harry and
Ginny looked at each other and collapsed with giggles.
(Author's Note: The book Ginny read to James is a real book: "How Babies are Made" by Steven Schepp and Andrew Andry, originally printed in 1968. The idea for this story came from my son's reaction to the book when I first read it to him.)