Firewhisky Advice

A few weeks later, Harry was writing a report for Shacklebolt. Even after Riddle's death there were still small scattered cells of people they kept an eye on. While they had never been official Death Eaters, they espoused some of Riddle's ideas. The Ministry couldn't force them to break up, but the things they talked about, like Muggle-baiting and abuse of other magical creatures, was illegal. The Aurors infiltrated the groups from time to time to see how far things had gone. Harry had spent several afternoons with one such group in disguise. So far, that group seemed to be nothing more than a gaggle of young, disaffected wizards and witches. Upper-middle class purebloods who wanted to drink copious amounts of alcohol and complain about how all the Muggle-borns and half-bloods ruined everything. Harry had always felt his work as an Auror was important, but now that he and Ginny were going to have a baby, it was even more important to make the world a better place. He wanted his son or daughter to have a normal life, and not have to worry about Dark wizards.

There was a knock on the door that was soon followed by Hermione's head. 'Are you busy?'

'Nope. Just finishing this up,' Harry absently replied, as he wrote the final few comments on his report. He rolled up the parchment and tapped it with his wand, sealing it to anyone but Shacklebolt. 'Come in,' he said dropping his quill and stretching.

Hermione settled in one of the chairs on the other side of Harry's desk. 'Just how long was that parchment, anyway?'

'Um... Five feet, give or take a few inches.'

'And this from the boy who couldn't stand to write eighteen inches for History of Magic,' Hermione commented, shaking her head. Harry rolled his eyes. 'Anyway, I came by to bring you something.' She laid a book on Harry's desk, and pushed it across the surface to him.

'A book, Hermione?'

'Just read it.'

Harry picked up the book. It was a Muggle book. 'What to Expect When You're Expecting?' he read. 'Is this for Ginny or me?'

'Both of you. Although, I think you should read it first,' she said delicately.

'Thanks. Where did you get this?' Harry asked, flipping idly through a few pages.

'My cousin just had a baby. Supposedly, it's sort of like the penultimate pregnancy book among Muggles. She said it was really very informative.' Hermione sat looking intently at Harry.

'What? Do I have food on my face or something?'

'Oh, no. Just...' Hermione bit her lip uncomfortably.

Harry sighed. 'Just spit it out, Hermione.'

'Are you sure you're all right with this?'

'What? The baby?' Hermione nodded. 'Yes. Why does everyone keep asking me this?' he demanded.

'Harry...' Hermione stopped, unsure of how to continue. 'You... don't always take to change well,' she said trying not to wring her hands together, and failing miserably.

Harry's head snapped up. Hermione braced herself for an onslaught of irate verbiage. 'I'm not fifteen anymore, Hermione,' he said mildly.

'I know.'

'Insane surprises I'm not fond of. Change - good change - is all right.'

'And this is good?'

Harry sighed, close to exasperation. 'Hermione. You're the sister I never had, but could you stop worrying about me? Yes, I'm scared, but so would you be if you were going to have your first child.' Harry rose from his char, and walked around the desk. Pulling Hermione up into a hug, he said, 'I'm over the moon about the baby. Dumbledore was right, you know. Love is a very powerful kind of magic.' Harry's eyes twinkled.

'Okay, that's enough. I'm with Ron on this one... ewww,' Hermione smirked.

'Mind in the gutter much, Granger?'

'That's Granger-Weasley to you, prat.' Smiling, she kissed Harry's cheek, and went back to her own office.

Harry shook his head, and picked up the parchment to deliver to Shacklebolt. He came back into his office, and picked up the book. He laughed to himself. Trust Hermione to go for books first. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least skim through some of it. At least it didn't come with a hangover.

A couple of hours later, Harry had read through the section dealing with the first trimester. Some of it was far more than he wanted to know, and other parts, like the food cravings made him slightly queasy. He remembered when Fleur had first been pregnant with Madeline. She wandered into the Burrow's kitchen one Sunday afternoon after lunch and made a sandwich with leftover turkey, clotted cream, and sultanas. Harry privately hoped Ginny's cravings didn't go in that direction. There was one advantage to living in London, he thought. If Ginny wanted ice cream at three in the morning, he could get it.

'Harry?' Shacklebolt poked his head into Harry's office. 'What are you still doing here? It's almost seven. Go home to your beautiful wife.'

'It is?' Harry looked at his watch. It was six forty-five. 'Holy... Ginny's going to go spare.' He snatched up his coat, and sprinted for the Apparition area, with Shacklebolt's amused chuckles following him.

He burst through the front door of the flat calling, 'Ginny?' Nothing but silence answered him. His heart sank to his stomach. The silent treatment from Ginny was never good. 'Ginny?' Harry went into the bedroom. Maybe she was sleeping. Nope. The bed was empty and still made from that morning. Harry was starting to worry. He dashed into the sitting room, ready to put in Floo calls to the entire family, when he saw the note taped to the refrigerator door.

Harry, had to go to Wales. The person who normally covers Caerphilly is in St. Mungo's - took a Bludger to the head and is still unconscious - so I'm covering the game. I'll be home as soon as I can. Love, Ginny.

Harry dropped into a chair at the table in relief. He was going to turn into Mad-Eye soon if he didn't stop seeing Dark wizards in the shadows all the time. 'They're all gone, Harry,' he breathed. 'They're all gone, and not coming back.' A chill went up his spine as it dawned on him why everyone kept asking him if he was happy about the baby.

'Harry, why do you want to live with Muggles?' Seamus asked.

'It's quieter. No reporters camping out on my doorstep.' The war had been over for a year, and there were still reporters hanging about the Burrow. Harry and Bill put up wards around the house and front and back gardens. It gave everyone a respite from the attention, and they could live somewhat normally. 'And it's not totally with Muggles,' he added defensively. 'The Leaky Cauldron's just a few blocks away.'

'Right,' said Seamus. Harry went into his bedroom and began to unpack his clothing. Truth be told, he felt living around Muggles like this made him less of a target. Muggles didn't know, or care, who Harry Potter was. For all they knew he was a real as Marvin the Mad Muggle. But he couldn't shake the feeling every time he went into the Wizarding world, there was someone watching him, even if nobody was there.

Methodically arranging his t-shirts in the wardrobe, Harry chanted to himself, 'They're gone, Harry. Riddle, the Lestranges, Dolohov, even Greyback. They're gone.'

'Harry?' Ron stood in the doorway, Hermione behind him. 'Did you say something?'

Startled, Harry's head jerked up. 'I didn't say anything.' He saw Hermione and Ron exchange a look, before they went back into the other room. Harry stared after them for a moment. Had he been talking out loud? And if he had, what exactly had they heard?

Harry shook himself. 'The problem with having a target on your back is, when it's gone you can't tell,' he sighed. 'There will always be Dark wizards, but there will never be another Riddle.'

He remembered getting drunk with the Weasley boys a week before his wedding. He blurted out how scared he was the Ginny would be a target for vengeful Dark wizards. No wonder they all think I'm about to have a major panic attack over adding a baby to this, he thought.

Not feeling very hungry, but needing something to do, Harry made himself a sandwich and cup of tea. He took both back into the sitting room, and stared at the flames of the fireplace, trying to will Ginny into walking through them.

He fell asleep on the sofa, waiting.

The roar of Ginny coming through the Floo woke him a few hours later. Harry sprang from the sofa and wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist and held her. 'You're home,' he murmured into her hair.

'Harry? Could you loosen the grip a bit, love? Sore breasts don't like being squished right now.'

'Sorry,' he said, releasing his hold on Ginny, his face slightly pink.

Ginny looked up at him quizzically. 'Were you worried?'

'What? Me? Worry? You must have me mixed up with someone else.' Harry tried his best wide-eyed innocent look on Ginny.

'Mmm-hmmm,' Ginny commented skeptically. 'Nothing is going to happen to me,' Ginny said, knowing he needed to hear her to say it. 'Or the baby,' she added.

'I know,' he said. 'I just have to keep telling myself that. Maybe one day I'll believe it.' Harry bent to kiss Ginny. 'Are you hungry?'

'Not really. Still kind of nauseated at odd times of the day.'

'That should clear up soon,' Harry said, with a knowledgeable air.

'And you know this how...?' One of Ginny's fiery eyebrows quirked upward.

'Hermione. Gave us a book.' Harry gave Ginny a lingering kiss. 'It'll keep until tomorrow.'

*****

'So according to this,' Ginny held up the book, 'I'm going to have all sorts of weird cravings soon, which after watching five pregnancies in the family so far, I'm not sure I want to do that...'

'It's a little late now, don't you think?'

'Well, I'm not going to do that.'

Harry snorted. 'I don't think you have a choice.'

'Tell me again why you can't do this?'

'Um, basic biology?'

Ginny settled back into the pillows of their bed. 'Oh, wow, I don't think I would have noticed the breasts without the bloody book pointing it out to me,' she said sarcastically. 'I swear, they've taken on a life of their own.'

Harry's gaze flicked down a few inches. A slow flush spread over his cheeks. He cleared his throat.

'Oh, you're joking,' said Ginny. 'Oh wait. You're a man. Never mind,' she sighed. 'Mood swings? Hah. Not me. I'm like Gibraltar.'

Harry made a suspicious cough that may have been 'yeah, right,' but Ginny wasn't sure. He climbed out of bed and went to fetch more tea.

Ginny flipped through the next few chapters of the book, her horror growing as she went further in the book. 'Why do they publish something like this?' she cried when Harry came back to bed. 'This is... disgusting!'

'It can't be that bad, Gin,' he said soothingly.

'Oh, really?' Ginny turned a few pages. 'Well, look at this!' She thrust the book under his nose.

Harry made a sound of revulsion. 'I really didn't need to know that,' he said, taking a gulp of his tea.

Ginny snorted. 'You think that's bad? Wait until the kid comes out.'

'Do you want me there when that happens?'

Ginny considered the question. 'You want to be?'

'I don't know,' he said truthfully. 'It's up to you, isn't it?'

Ginny gazed at him. 'I suppose. Not something we have to decide right now, though.' She put the book down and looked around the bedroom. It had become their sanctuary the past few years. 'Part of me doesn't want to leave this place.'

'Me, either.'

'Do we have to move soon? Or can we wait a while longer?'

Harry considered how difficult it might be to have both Teddy and a baby in the flat for an extended period of time. 'We can wait until after the baby's born,' he ventured. 'Gives us a bit more time.'

'Got any ideas about where we'll live?'

Harry shifted a bit, and picked at a loose thread of the quilt. 'Godric's Hollow, maybe.'

'Somehow, I think that 'maybe' was for my benefit,' Ginny remarked.

'There's a house...' Harry began. He picked at the loose thread a bit more.

'Okay. What kind of house?'

'Our house,' he said in a small voice, waiting tensely for Ginny's reaction. He didn't have to wait long.

Ginny sprang out of bed, sending the book flying across the room. It landed on the floor with a papery thump. 'Do you mean to tell me you bought a bloody house and didn't tell me?' she shouted. 'When were you going to say something?'

'Er... later?'

Ginny was pacing back and forth in front of the bed. 'Why did you do that?'

Harry pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. He looked like a five-year old child, in his ragged t-shirt and pajama bottoms, with his messy hair. 'I saw it a few days after we found out you were pregnant,' he shrugged. 'And I could see us, with our children, living in that house. So, I bought it.'

'Just like that, you bought a house? Merlin's arse, Harry, you don't just buy a house without talking to your wife!' Ginny stormed off to the kitchen.

Harry flopped back into the pillows and groaned. He thought the house was going to be a nice surprise, and not the seed that started a fight with Ginny. He heard sniffling sounds coming from the kitchen. Rolling off the bed, Harry cautiously went into the kitchen and found Ginny sitting at the table, crying into one of the most disgusting things he had ever seen. And he had spent seven years watching Ron eat. She had found his jar of peanut butter and spread a layer of it on top of a pumpkin pasty. Trying not to make sounds of revulsion, Harry crossed to the table. 'Ginny, what's the matter?' he asked tentatively.

'It's just so good,' she sniffled. 'The pumpkin and the peanut butter go so good together.'

'But it's making you cry...' Harry was confused.

'No... I'm sorry I yelled at you. You were just doing something nice for us,' Ginny hiccupped.

Harry stared at Ginny, completely lost. Not five minutes earlier, she had torn into him for buying the house, now she was thanking him for it. And she was still eating that disgusting concoction of peanut butter and pumpkin pasty.

'Can we go see the house today?' Ginny's question broke through Harry's thoughts.

'Erm... sure.' Harry fumbled for a glass to pour himself some orange juice. Mood swings, eh?, he thought. More like mood blitzes. He wondered briefly how he was going to make it through the next several months of this.

*****

'So? What do you think?' Harry opened the back door and led Ginny into the kitchen. He turned around and saw tears fall down her cheeks.

'It's beautiful,' she said, taking in the room. It was cozy, but not cramped. Airy, but not drafty.

'Then why are you crying?'

'I don't know,' she snuffled. 'It's just so perfect.'

Harry set a basket packed with lunch on the counter and silently gave her a handkerchief. 'There's a small room off the sitting room,' he said. 'I thought we could use it as a home office. Four bedrooms upstairs. Two bathrooms,' he added.

'Two? Really?' Ginny's eyes sparkled. She remembered waiting for what could seem like hours with the single bathroom in the Burrow. Two seemed a decadent luxury.

'Yeah, one is in our bedroom.'

'Can I go see?' she asked excitedly.

'Yeah. It is our house, after all.'

For more than an hour, Ginny and Harry went through the house, trying to imagine what their things would look like in it. Harry was in the attic, poking through some of the detritus left by previous owners, when he realized Ginny wasn't there. He went back downstairs and followed the sounds of rustling coming from the kitchen.

Ginny leaned against the counter. She was about to put a Chocolate Frog on a chicken sandwich. This time, Harry couldn't stop himself. 'Oh, Gin, that's revolting! Are you really going to eat that?'

Ginny considered the sandwich in her hand, and looked back at Harry. 'Yep.'