Harry Potter and Salazar's Talisman

Chapter 18

The Heirs

"So what is the first thing you would do when confronted with a Red Cap?"

Harry looked over his 2^nd years. He frowned at the lack of hands in the air. Maybe in his turmoil over the curriculum of his 6^th and 7^th years, he had neglected the younger ones.

Harry!

Draco?

Harry could almost hear the smirk. Who else, you moron?

As pleased as I am to hear from you, Draco, you have rotten timing.

Too bad.

Draco. Harry tried to plead but felt a sense of urgency in the link. Hang on.

"All right, open your books and look it up," Harry told the students. "I want two feet by the bell."

He hopped off his desk and sat behind it, pulling out some papers to make himself appear 'busy.'

Harry?

Where are you, anyway?

I'm at the Tombs, but that's-

The what?

The Tombs. The Ministry Archives.

Ah. What are you-?

Shut up and listen.

I see you're your charming self.

Draco ignored him. What's this I heard about that thing around your neck glowing?

Excuse me?

The Talisman.

What about it?

Harry heard a long-suffering sigh. The 7^th years said something about you giving Voldemort your magic.

Yeah. It was pretty cool actually. Harry mentally sent Draco a shrug. If you discount the fact that Voldemort-

Harry! The Slytherins said the thing glowed when you did it.

Really? I didn't notice.

There was the snort. What a surprise. Also, Snape said he saw it do it again the other day.

Snape? When did you talk to-?

He sent me an owl, you idiot. He wanted to know when I was coming back. He said it looked like it was showing the connection.

Well that isn't so strange, considering all the connections between us.

Maybe.

Harry could tell Draco wasn't convinced.

What's your point, Draco?

Just that-

"Harry!"

Harry turned to the door where a breathless and flushed Hermione stood.

"What happened now?" said Harry.

"It's Ginny," gasped Hermione.

"Ginger?" Harry stood up. "What's wrong?"

Hermione smiled. "It's time."

A thousand thoughts converged on Harry at once. It's time? Baby? Father?

Harry, breath!

Harry took a couple of deep breaths.

Where is she?

"Where is she?" Harry asked Hermione.

"St. Mungos," Hermione answered. "They're not taking any chances with the Minister of Magic's grandchildren."

St. Mungos, good. Lot's of doctors there. Good people. Isn't Lockhardt there? Too many floors. How will I find her?

HARRY! Now is not the time to panic.

Panic? No. I'm not panicking. St. Mungos. There's a telephone booth there.

Harry, breath, damn it.

Harry took another deep breath.

"Potter?"

He looked up at Hermione.

"Potter!"

He turned. "Severus? What are-"

"I will cover your class," said Snape. He gestured to Hermione. "Take him to his wife."

Right. Have to go see Ginger.

He opened his mouth but Hermione clapped a hand over it as she took his arm and led him out of the room.

"Stay with me, Harry," said Hermione.

"Have to go," said Harry. "Quickly."

"No, Harry. Come with me. Don't try to apparate," said Hermione.

Apparate. Yes.

NO!

"No?" said Harry.

"No, just come with me," said Hermione. "I'll take you."

Harry wasn't sure how they got there, but his senses started coming back as they stood in the lift. "Where's Ron?" said Harry out of the blue.

"He's going to meet us here," said Hermione.

Harry nodded. "Where's Sirius?"

Hermione studied him. "Everyone is on their way, Harry," she assured him.

He nodded again. "Where's Draco?"

"You tell me."

Draco?

I'm on my way, Harry. Just stay calm.

Harry nodded. "Calm," he said. He looked around as the lift stopped at yet another floor. "Doesn't this thing go any faster?"

"Relax," said Hermione. The doors closed.

Harry bounced on the balls of his feet. "Can't I just apparate to Ginger?"

Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, even you can't apparate here," said Hermione. "It's not keyed to the heirs like Hogwarts is."

"But-"

"Harry-"

The doors finally opened to 'Family Ailments' and Harry strode out and down what appeared to be an endless corridor. It opened to the left and the woman took one look at him and smiled.

"Through that door, Mr. Potter."

Harry followed her gesture toward a white washed door, not bothering to wonder how she knew who he was. Once inside the waiting area, he was converged upon. A handful of Weasleys, Sirius and Gwenn greeted him warmly.

Harry couldn't begin to understand how they could seem so calm. After only 5 minutes he was pacing. Even as he tried to fend off their endless distracting conversation, his focus remained on his wife.

The doctor, Harry wasn't sure of his name, came out and assured him everything was progressing normally and that Mrs. Potter was fine. He shook Harry's hand, said it was an honor to meet him, to be present at the birth. Harry wondered why he wasn't in with his wife.

"Everything will be fine, Harry," said Arthur.

"How can you be so calm?"

"Harry, please sit down."

"But-"

"Harry."

"I should be with her," said Harry, his determination rising.

"And do what?" said Hermione.

"I don't know, breathe with her or something," said Harry. "Isn't it dangerous?"

"Harry, witches now have much safer, more comfortable methods of childbirth," said Molly patiently. "Ginny will be fine."

Harry mind was swimming in thought again. He could vaguely feel a burn on his forehead.

He looked at Molly. "Voldemort's mother died in childbirth."

"Tom Riddle was born in a Muggle hospital," said Arthur. "His mother didn't want her husband to know she was a witch, remember."

A new sense of urgency overwhelmed Harry. "I have to see her," said Harry, turning to the door.

"Harry, there's nothing for you to do," said Molly.

"I should be with her."

"No," Harry turned on them. "I'm famous Harry bloody Potter. There has to be something I can do."

Voices called his name around him and three bodies suddenly blocked his path to the door.

"Get out of my way," said Harry quietly.

A small table next to Gwenn's chair started to shake. Calming voices that seemed foreign murmured around him. A painting fell off the wall.

"Move," Harry told the person in front of him. He wasn't even sure who it was. "Or so help me, I'll hex-"

"HARRY!"

Harry spun around at the sound of a voice that for once wasn't just in his head. He barely registered Draco's fist as it connected with his jaw.

***********

"He really should be awake for this."

"Did you have to hit him so hard, Malfoy?"

"Oh? Did you want him to curse you into next week?"

"No, but-"

"He was about to loose it, Weasley. Better safe than sorry."

"Well, ok but-"

"BASTARD!" Harry yelled as he jerked up from where he was sprawled out over a bed. Within moments he had Draco against the wall, his hand around his throat. "How dare you!"

"Before you strangle me, Harry," Draco choked, "And get sent to Azkaban for murder, wouldn't you like to see your kids?"

Harry stiffened and looked around. The bed he had just vacated was in a semi-private ward. The other occupants, the Weasleys, Sirius, Gwenn and now Remus, Belle and Narcissa, all stood around the only other bed in the room.

Harry let go of Draco and he slumped against the wall.

"Ginger?" Harry croaked, stepping toward the bed.

Reclined against a mound of pillows, her red hair spilled around her and a small bundle in her arm, was his wife.

"Are you all right?"

She laughed, the most wonderful sound he'd ever heard. "Harry, you idiot. I'm fine," said Ginny, patting the space beside her.

He took another step forward. She did indeed look fine. A closer look at the object in her arms revealed a small face with tufts of black hair wrapped up in a pink blanket.

That's one.

Beside him, in a chair next to Ginger's bed, Harry found Molly looking up at him. In her arms was a similar package wrapped in blue. Harry's legs grew weak and he sat on the bed beside Ginger between her and Molly's chair.

"Harry, this is your daughter," said Ginger.

"My daughter?" It came out sounding like a squeak but Harry couldn't dredge up any concern as his daughter was laid in his arms. She looked like a porcelain doll with thick black lashes and bowed pink lips. Only her slight squirming and fluttering eyes reminded Harry that she was real, alive - his.

My God. Is it possible to fall in love so fast?

Apparently.

Harry looked up and across the room. He forced the stupid grin on his face into a frown. "I'm still not happy with you, Malfoy."

Draco rubbed his neck, where marks from Harry's hand could be seen. "So I gathered."

Harry turned to Sirius who was laughing softly. He lifted his brows.

"Just admiring your swollen jaw and split lip," said Sirius. He chuckled again as Harry scowled. "I seem to recall your father looking the same way when I decked him before you were born."

Harry blinked at him.

Remus snorted. "It took you two punches, though Padfoot," said Remus. "Malfoy only had to hit Harry once."

Harry sent Draco a glance and finally smiled. Your father has a nasty right jab too.

Draco shrugged and Harry returned his attention to his squirming daughter.

"She's beautiful," he murmured, loosening the swaddling. Her arms curled up and a fist found her mouth. He reached down and ran a finger over a little fist with five perfect little fingers that opened and wound themselves around his pinky.

"Her name is Taylor," Ginger announced.

Harry looked up at his wife and blinked.

"Taylor?" Ron's outrage was obvious. "Ginny, you nitwit. What kind of name is Taylor?"

"Ron, be nice," Molly chastised.

But Ron wasn't finished. "Honestly, Harry. Why do you let her name things?"

"I didn't," said Ginger smugly.

Harry met her gaze and he glanced at his son, still in Molly's arms. He had told Ginger she could name them. His only stipulations were that neither of them were to be named after him or anyone else. He wanted his children to have their own identities. Being a Potter was going to be hard enough. But Ginger had her own sentimentality and her own cunning, as she proved when she had arranged for him to take his Acknowledged Master test.

With a sigh, he handed Taylor back to Ginger and reached out and took his son from his mother-in-law. He stroked a finger down his almost identical perfect cheek.

"My son," he whispered.

"Oh I get it," said Ron as he leaned over Harry to peer down at the infant. "His name must be Jack then."

Draco snorted. "Oh you're quick, aren't you?"

Draco, you do realize that almost everyone in this room is a Weasley.

Harry sent that thought to Draco before he looked up at Ron. "Your sister has her own brand of manipulation," said Harry. He turned back to his wife. "Despite the fact that I didn't want them named after me."

Ginger merely smiled at him. Of course she could have named them after Voldemort himself and Harry wouldn't have minded at that moment, which Ginger probably knew. He was just so happy that his family was healthy.

"Won't that about kill your anonymity at Raven's Retreat?" said Draco.

"I doubt it," said Harry, his eyes back on his son. "Ginger and Lu-" Ginger poked him. "My caretaker do all the business in the community. No one there has ever even seen Jack Taylor."

"Well I still say it's not very original," Ron grumbled.

"Yes well, Ging is being sentimental," said Harry. "It's a more original reason then the way I got it."

"Just how did you come up with it?" said Hermione, distracted by Taylor who she had finally gotten away from Gwenn.

Harry shrugged, pushing Ron's hands away from his son for the umpeenth time. "When the lady at the optometrist office asked me my name, I had to think fast."

Draco's snort was loud in his head. You aren't about to demonstrate how pathetic you can be, are you?

Harry looked up then around until he spotted Draco hovering over Hermione. He met his gaze and laughed - had too. "Yeah, it was rather pathetic," Harry admitted. "There was a dry cleaners across the street with a neon sign that said Jack's Tayloring and well..."

Draco snorted out loud that time. "Figures," he muttered, reaching for Taylor.

Hermione slapped his hand away. "Go away, Malfoy."

"Give her here," said Draco in an imperious voice. "She's my goddaughter."

"Says who?" snapped Hermione.

Their argument went on and Harry finally surrendered his son to Ron. He leaned over his wife and kissed her gently.

"All ready they're being fought over," whispered Harry.

Ginny smiled sheepishly. "You'll get used to it."

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?"

Ginger bit her lip, her cheeks glowing. "I'm a mess."

Harry shook his head. "You are stunning," Harry insisted. "I wouldn't trade this moment for anything. Thank you."

"I love you, Harry," said Ginny then she grinned, "But if you touch me again with that look in your eye, I'll hex you."

Harry laughed but turned to Molly, who was watching them with a bemused smile. "She's kidding, right?"

**********

"So what do you think?" said Harry.

"What do I think about what?" said Ginger.

Harry looked up from watching Taylor sleep in his arms and shook his head. He was sitting comfortably in the chair next to Ginger's bed and Ging was still comfortably propped up against pillows.

They were almost alone.

People had been in and out most of the evening. Harry put up with the lot of them, teachers, staff, reporters and photographers, especially the latter ones, with his utmost perseverance. The nurse had shooed everyone out and had given Harry one hour to stay with Ginger, who despite one short nap, still looked exhausted. Now, they were enjoying the time together - alone - or virtually so.

Ginger frowned at him, realizing that he hadn't been addressing her. "How long has he been here?" she said fatigue probably making her sound more irritated than she was.

Harry shrugged, watching his fingers run through Taylor's hair, as black as his own, and around her flawless little ear. He couldn't seem to get enough of touching them.

"A couple of hours," said Harry. "At least from what I've felt."

He wasn't surprised by the chuckle. "I followed you out of the classroom, Harry," said Voldemort from somewhere near the door. He hadn't materialized. "Did you think I would miss this?"

Harry looked up as he felt Voldemort approached. "So answer my question."

"What would you like to hear, Harry? That they are exactly what I expected? That they will grow to be extraordinary? That she," he gaze dropped to Harry lap, "Will make the perfect Slytherin Heir?"

"How do you know its her?" said Ginger crossly.

Voldemort turned to her. "Oh, I know, my dear," said Voldemort. "I know it all."

Ginger let out a frustrated sound. "Is there something about being dead that allows you to know these things?"

"Of course," said Voldemort as if any idiot would know that. "The truth transcends all boundaries, even those perceived to be set by death."

Harry scowled. Even hidden in Voldemort's semantics, those words sounded damned familiar.

Voldemort reached down to run his knuckles down Taylor's face. Harry had an urge to pull her away until he remembered that Voldemort could only touch him. But the ghostly fingers drifted over the pale skin not through it and the baby's head turned into the touch.

Harry jerked his eyes to Voldemort's and locked his gaze. Terror gripped him.

No!

Voldemort smiled serenely. "I can only touch her because you are, Harry," said Voldemort. "Right now, she is an extension of you - just as when you hold my wand and allow me to use it."

Relief flooded through him. These emotional ups and downs were getting to him today.

"I hate it when you do that," muttered Harry.

Voldemort chuckled. "I've told you, Harry. I know you. Your every expression is a reflection of my own."

"Harry!" Harry looked up his wife's alarmed cry. "Why is the baby's foot glowing?"

He looked down and saw the glow at the bottom of the blanket. Shifting the baby, he noticed that it wasn't the baby but his medallion under his shirt that shone. Voldemort eased away from him, letting his hand fall away from the baby and the glow faded. Harry looked up at him.

"It's our connection, Harry," Voldemort explained. "And now hers. The talisman knows the heirs."

Harry smirked at him, knowing ironically because of said talisman, that Voldemort wasn't being completely honest. However, Harry was too tired for one of Voldemort's brain numbing lectures.

Fortunately, the nurse came in, with what appeared to be support staff in case Harry had a problem with them taking the babies back to the nursery. Harry said a reluctant goodbye to Ginger, promising to return as soon as he could.

The nurse assured Harry that Mrs. Potter needed to rest and she would be fine and shooed him out.

"Congratulations, Harry," said Voldemort and they exited the hospital.

"Thank you," said Harry. "Although Ginger did all the work."

"Indeed. But your work is only just starting now. Are you ready?"

Harry apparated to his classroom. Voldemort was right behind him.

"I don't have much of a choice at this point," said Harry moving through to his office. He was suddenly very tired.

"Perhaps," said Voldemort vaguely as he stopped at the door to Harry's private rooms. Rowan squawked from within with what sounded to Harry like a warning.

"Seems to be the story of my life," said Harry still smiling.

"Always the cynic, my Harry."

Harry was too happy to care.