Prosapia Centonis

"Now what do we do?" Draco asked. "I mean, we've named her, but surely that was the easy part? I mean, what do babies eat?"

"Internet to the rescue." Ron's fingers flew over the keyboard. A few moments later, he had unearthed a site that told them what, when, and how babies ate, and more. Draco went out on a minor shopping excursion and returned a half-hour later with formula, bottles, and cloth diapers.

The next few days were a bit of a hassle. The baby slept in the shopping basket because no one had thought to buy a crib. She demanded quite a bit of their time. Poor Ron put the most time into raising her; he had been quite insistent that everyone keep up with their work. However, that meant that he got stuck with the baby most often. Somehow, an unspoken agreement had arisen between the four men; all of them held Muggle jobs. Neither Harry nor Draco had to work, but they chose to--Harry as a bartender, Draco as a police officer--although Harry was also taking correspondence classes at a college to get a teaching degree. Neville worked as a tour guide in a museum. Ron, however, was a humour columnist; his column was picked up in several newspapers, and the work was fairly simple, leaving him time to work on a book he'd begun writing. It was slow going because his column took up so much of his creativity. Now it was even slower because he spent a fair amount of his time, when not writing the column, running to check on the baby.

However, whenever Harry or Neville suggested he take a break, Ron refused. Perhaps because he was home so much with her, Ron had instantly bonded with the little lady who had invaded their lives.

The funny thing was, none of the residents knew quite what to call the baby. Rhiannon seemed far too formal; Sumari made a good in-between name but a bad first name; Belinda and Darby were both better suited as sort of abstract names, not actual names to call their little angel. They usually referred to her as "the baby" or "pipsqueak". The last was Draco's contribution and one Ron in particular was reluctant to attach to her.

One night, Harry woke up and heard the baby crying. Knowing everyone else slept heavily and probably needed it, he rolled out of bed and hurried softly into the living room.

He picked the tiny girl up out of her basket, then took her into the kitchen and started warming up a bottle. Once it was the right temperature, he sat in the large chair and offered it to her.

For a small girl, she certainly ate a lot. When she had finally finished, Harry raised her to his shoulder and burped her, then cuddled her. He had never been around a baby until this one had wound up on his doorstep, but he had discovered in the past week that it was mostly instinctive. She smiled up at him sleepily, then snuggled up against him.

"Oh, my little Lindy," he cooed softly. "How did you get so sweet?"

"Harry?"

Harry looked up, startled, to see Ron watching him from the doorway. "Sorry, did I wake you up?" Harry asked, feeling a little guilty.

Ron shook his head. "I heard the baby crying and started to get up, but then she stopped. I got a little worried, so I came out to make sure she was still breathing." He came over to where Harry was sitting with the baby, leaned over the back of the chair, and brushed her soft cheek gently. "Lindy, huh?"

It took Harry a second to realise he'd nicknamed the small girl in his arms. "I dunno...I was just sitting here with her and it seemed to fit, so..."

"I like it." Ron smiled at Harry. "She looks like a Lindy. Isn't that a dance?"

"Yeah...I can teach it to you, if you want."

"You know the Lindy?"

"They do it at the club I work at all the time."

Ron grinned. "I might take you up on that sometime. Not tonight, though...it's late and you look exhausted. Besides, our Lindy needs to get back to bed."

Harry carefully put her in the tartan shopping basket. "We really need to get her a crib or something."

"We can do that tomorrow," Ron answered. "Aren't you off?"

"Tomorrow, yeah." Harry hesitated. "Actually, I...I've been thinking of quitting and going back to school full-time. That correspondence course is more trouble than it's worth, and it's going to take too long to finish..." He trailed off helplessly. "I dunno. Teaching's what I really want to do, and I've finished the main core courses. I tested out of a couple and I just took the final for the last one. I thought I'd take the specialised courses at the college and get them over with, then see what happens after that."

"Go for it," Ron urged. "We'll all be behind you."

Harry smiled. "Thanks. 'Night, Ron."

"Night, mate."