Firewhisky Advice

Harry jerked his head away from the pungent scent wafting under his nose. He opened his eyes to find every single Weasley - except for Katie, of course - standing over him with concerned looks on their faces. Bronwyn capped the smelling salts and got to her feet. 'What happened?'

'You fainted!' Ron was failing miserably from keeping the grin off his face. He held out a hand to help Harry to his feet.

Ginny held Fred closer to her face. 'Did you see that, Fred? That's your uncle Harry. He defeated the Darkest wizard of all time, but a tiny new baby takes him out at the knees.' Ginny tutted. She carefully transferred Fred to Hermione and looked at Harry, her hands on her hips. 'Never pegged you for a fainter, Potter.' She shook her head sadly. 'Here.' She dug into her handbag and handed a Galleon to Charlie. 'My money was on George.'

'You bet on who was going to faint first?' asked Harry incredulously.

'Of course we did,' said Bill.

'Charlie thought it was going to hit you today. Said you looked about as pale as Nearly-Headless Nick,' Ron informed Harry, handing Charlie a Galleon.

'Looks like the rest of us were wrong,' Percy sighed. 'You let me down, George. I figured it had to be you with twins and all.'

George turned to Katie. 'Did you tell them I fainted when you told me you were pregnant?'

Katie began to laugh, but stopped, wincing. 'Don't make me laugh. It hurts. And no, I didn't say a word, but you just told everybody.'

The Healer came in and shooed everyone out on the grounds that Katie needed some sleep.

*****

Harry got out of bed and went into the other bedroom of the flat. They were going to move into the house after the baby was born. He picked up the teddy bear Ginny had put in the rocker and took its place.

Teddy's bed was against one wall, and they had taken his old cot from the storage unit in the basement and set it up on the opposite wall. The mural was still on the wall over Teddy's bed. Harry watched the stag canter around the wall with the wolf and black dog. He wondered if his own father had felt like this before he was born.

He could see George pace the hallway every time the Healer sent him out, eyes glued on the door of the room, until he was allowed to go back inside. It reminded him of a panther he had seen at the zoo once.

He was only partially right when he told Ron about getting on-the-job training with Teddy. By the time Harry had moved into this flat, and had Teddy on his own for visits, Teddy was a year old. Up to that point, he had Molly or Arthur to help out on the weekends Teddy came to stay with Harry. And, he was able to give him back to Andromeda on Sunday afternoon.

No, that wasn't the same as doing this all the time.

Harry focused on the stag. 'Dad, were you scared?' he whispered. 'Because I am. When did it dawn on you that it wasn't just you to worry about anymore, it was you and Mum, and me?' The stag reared and leapt over a stream Dean had painted on the wall. 'I'll bet you never fainted,' he muttered darkly. 'And George will never let me live that down,' he sighed. 'Neither will Ginny,' he added, rubbing the back of his neck. 'I'd better not faint when this one's born. I think even Molly wouldn't let me forget that.'

Harry held the teddy on his lap and rocked for several more minutes. He rubbed his face, and rose from the chair, replacing the teddy, and went back to bed.

*****

Ginny was sitting at her desk, ink smudged on her nose. Flanagan was being impossible today. He'd sent everyone's stories back at least twice. She was hot, irritable, and her ankles were swollen. And she'd shown up at work wearing two different shoes. Worse, she didn't realize it until someone mentioned something. Ginny couldn't see her own feet anymore. They were out of toothpaste and one of them needed to go buy some more, but with the way Flanagan was behaving, she had been lucky to have lunch at her desk. And the baby seemed to enjoy bouncing on her bladder, so she had to go to the loo every ten minutes. Okay, maybe not every ten minutes, Ginny reasoned, but it sure feels like it.

She leaned back in her chair. Little Sam-I-Am had decided to stop bouncing on Mummy's bladder, and was now turning somersaults. Ginny watched in fascination as her top undulated with the movements. He or she was getting a lot more active, and Ginny found it harder and harder to sleep. She knew if she didn't sleep, Harry didn't sleep either. Ginny yawned, feeling like her face would split in two. 'Wake up, Potter.' Flanagan's voice hammered into Ginny's head.

She glared at him balefully. 'I am awake,' she said. Git, she said silently.

'Rewrite the sections, I've marked,' Flanagan snapped, slapping the parchment on the desk.

'Flanagan, I've rewritten those same bloody sections four times!' Ginny protested.

'You will rewrite them until I'm happy,' he said coldly. 'And if you don't, I'll find someone who will.'

'Go ahead,' she challenged. To say Ginny was not in a good mood was an understatement.

'You think because you're Harry Potter's wife you can do whatever you want, eh?'

'No, you dimwit. It's because I'm a bloody good writer, and those sections are perfect. I refuse to rewrite them because you're in the mood to pick on someone!' Ginny snarled. She yanked open her desk drawer, pulled out her bag, and slammed the drawer shut. 'It's five o'clock, and I'm going home.' Ginny stood and shoved her chair under the desk. 'I'll see you tomorrow.' With that, she turned and limped out on her mismatched shoes.

Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace, and dropped her bag on the floor. She went into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed, toeing her shoes off and dropping them off the side of the bed. She regarded her ankles in dismay. That just couldn't be normal. They were huge. It reminded her of the days her mother baked bread, and the loaves were set to rise. 'Gin? You home?'

'I swear I'm going to send the biggest Bat-Bogey to Flanagan that I can do.'

'Tough day?' Harry came into the bedroom and sat on the foot of the bed.

'He's a sadist. I hate him.'

'More than Snape?' Harry's eyebrows rose. The strongest thing Ginny had ever called Snape was a git.

'More than Umbridge.'

'Wow.'

'At least I could be subversive with Umbridge.'

'True. You want dinner?'

'Not really. I'm not very hungry, and if I do get hungry later, I'm more than capable of feeding myself!' she snapped. Ginny blinked. Where had that come from?

'I know that,' Harry said mildly.

'Sorry,' she mumbled. 'It's just my ankles are swollen to the size of Russia, and I wore two different shoes all day, because I wasn't paying attention this morning, and didn't realize it until I got to work. And Flanagan was an arse on top of it all...'

Harry's gaze flicked to her ankles. They were swollen, but they didn't seem that big. 'Gin? They're supposed to be swollen... You're pregnant.' As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry smacked himself on the forehead. He did the one thing Arthur told him never to do - mention the ankles.

Ginny turned a murderous gaze on him. 'My. Ankles. Are. Not. Pregnant!' she hissed.

'Of course they're not,' Harry agreed. It was irrational, but he'd learned pregnant women weren't always rational. He slid off the bed, and retreated to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich.

Ginny sighed, and curled on her side to take a nap. She might as well get some sleep while she could.

And they were still out of toothpaste.

*****

'You look like hell,' Harry observed when he met George and Ron for lunch the next day. George looked like he hadn't combed his hair in days, and like he had slept in his clothes.

'I feel like hell,' George responded wearily. 'I don't understand how Mum did it with Fred and me, when she had Bill, Charlie, and Percy to worry about, too. If Fred cries, Jacob does, too. If Jacob's hungry, so is Fred. And don't get me started on the nappies. You don't always get to -Scourgify them right away. Jacob peed in my face the other day.' George exhaled noisily and let his head fall to the table with a loud thump. 'Katie and I haven't slept more than two hours at a time.'

'I thought you were supposed to sleep when the babies did,' said Ron around a mouthful of sandwich.

'Nice theory, but horrible in practice,' moaned George.

'Um... Why?' Harry almost didn't want to hear the answer.

'Because they don't sleep at the same time. Fred thinks it's day during the night, and Jacob seems to sleep when Fred's awake, just to make things difficult.' George scrubbed a hand over his face. 'Remind me to thank Mum next time I see her. For not drowning Fred and me at birth.'

'Note to self,' muttered Ron. 'Don't have twins.'

'I said that to myself,' mused George. 'It didn't work. I kept thinking about all the havoc Fred and I created, and thought unleashing all that again on an unsuspecting world might be bad form.'

'You never know,' Harry said. 'They might end up like Bill or Charlie. Or even Percy.'

'Stop. Stop it right there. I could handle two Bills or Charlies running around my house. But two Percys? Isn't that going overboard on the punishment for the pranks I pulled when I was younger?' objected George.

'You could have two who are just like Ginny,' Ron offered.

George just closed his eyes. While they had often thought of Ginny as a nuisance when she was a baby, she was ferociously stubborn and much craftier than all of them put together when she wanted to be. George often thought that if Mum had had Ginny first, she might have been the last. 'No girls,' he stated. 'I love my wife, but there is no way I want to attempt to try raising a girl.'

'Why not?' Ron was truly interested.

'Think about it, Ronnikins,' George said. 'Remember what you were like when you were sixteen?' Ron blushed. He did remember, and it wasn't something he liked to be reminded of. 'She'll be going out boys who want to do to her what you did with Lavender.' George shook his head vehemently. 'My daughter will do that over my dead body.'

*****

Ginny finally stopped tossing, and went to sleep, worn out from dealing with Flanagan, and Sam-I-Am's activities. Harry rolled over to watch her sleep. He wished it could be easier. He was surprised at how strong the nudges were on the outside, and he could only imagine what it was like for Ginny. The book, which was getting rather dog-eared from his reading of it, said the baby could hear him, so once Ginny went to sleep, Harry would quietly rearrange himself and talk to Sam-I-Am, keeping his voice pitched low, so as not to awaken Ginny.

'Hi there.' Harry laid a hand softly on the distended curve of Ginny's abdomen. 'You're probably going to wonder one day why my parents aren't around to spoil you. They died when I was a baby. But that doesn't mean they're not still here. You just can't see them. But they're here. They'll always be here in some way.

'One day you'll learn how to make a Patronus. Hopefully, you won't have to learn it as early as I did, but it's really neat when you do one. It depends on the witch or wizard as to what the form is. Your mum's is a horse. I wasn't surprised by it the first time she produced it. Don't underestimate your mum. She's one amazing lady.' Harry thought for a few minutes. 'Uncle Ron's is a Jack Russell terrier. That's a lot like your uncle Ron, too. Tenacious as hell. Aunt Hermione's is an otter. I looked it up one day. What it meant. And believe me, nothing else would fit your Aunt Hermione.

'Mine is a stag. I'll show it to you one day, when you're older. And you'll understand what I mean when I say the people who love us don't always leave when they die. See, my dad was an Animagus, and one day, I'll tell you why he became one. And his Animagus form was a stag. His friends at school called him Prongs. But I think my Patronus is a stag because it means my dad is watching over me. Well, us, now.' Harry paused. 'At least, that's what I like to think.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you about Sirius and Remus.' Harry kissed his fingertips and brushed them across Ginny's stomach. 'G'nite.' He settled into his pillow, and closed his eyes.

Ginny opened her eyes, and smiled.

*****

'Sirius was my godfather. I didn't know about him until I was thirteen. Remember how I told you my parents died when I was a baby? Well, a very Dark wizard killed them, and Sirius was blamed for it. He didn't do it, but people thought he told him where they were hiding. Anyway, he was accused of a crime he didn't do, and spent twelve years in Azkaban. He was an Animagus, too. His form was a black dog, which makes sense... Sirius Black. Get it?' Harry chuckled to himself. 'Oh, well, your mum thinks I'm funny. His nickname around Dad and Remus was Padfoot. Anyway, Sirius escaped from Azkaban, and came to find me. He did, too.

'For a brief moment, I thought I was going to be able to leave my aunt and uncle's house and go live with Sirius. But not that time. Sirius sent me a Firebolt my third year, too. Because my Nimbus ended up in the Whomping Willow. But that's another story.

'I hoped that I would be able to go live with Sirius, but he died at the end of my fifth year in a battle.

'I miss him. I miss him more than my parents. Does that sound strange? Maybe. But I got to know Sirius, and I never really knew my mum and dad.

'Remus was one of my dad's best friends. Sirius was another. Remus had a "furry little problem". He was a werewolf. That's why they called him Moony. He was one of the best teachers I ever had. And one of the best people I knew. He's the reason Sirius and Dad became Animagi. To help during the full moon. They could help control Remus in his wolf form. Remus kept me from thinking I was crazy my third year. He's the one who taught me to produce a Patronus when I was only in third year.

'Remus died, too. In the last battle. Both him and his wife. Their son, Teddy, is my godson. You'll see him a lot.

'Anyway, there's a mural in your room. It's a stag, a wolf, and a shaggy black dog. It's for the three of them.'

Harry yawned. He nuzzled the baby before scooting up to his pillow.

*****

Harry looked up from the book he was reading. It was some Muggle book he had picked up one afternoon in London. It was about somebody named Elizabeth Bennett. She wasn't too keen on this Mr. Darcy, though. Her sister really liked somebody called Mr. Bingley, but his sisters didn't like her. It was kind of a swotty book, but he liked it.

Ginny had finally fallen asleep. He hoped she would be able to get a decent night's sleep. She was having trouble sleeping lately. Harry closed the book and laid it on his night table. He carefully slid down to the middle of the bed.

Tonight was the important talk.

Tonight, he would explain Quidditch.

'Hiya Sam. I'm going to tell you about one of the best things about being a wizard - Quidditch.

'There are four balls: a Quaffle - it's red; two Bludgers - black; and a golden Snitch. The Bludger and Snitch can fly. There are three Chasers, two Beaters, a Keeper, and a Seeker.'

Harry was lying on his side, head propped up on one elbow, face next to Ginny's stomach, his other hand resting on it, as he continued to whisper the ins and outs of Quidditch to his unborn child.

'The Beaters hit the Bludgers toward other players to try and keep them from scoring, and the Keeper guards his goalposts from the other team. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try to put it through one of three hoops at the end of the field. If you can do that, you get ten points. The Seeker looks for the Snitch. It's very fast and small so you have to have a really good eye to see it, and you have to be one hell of a flyer.' The baby kicked in response.

'You want to be a Seeker, don't you?' The baby kicked again. 'I'll take that as a yes.' Harry smiled. 'The Seeker usually wins the game. The Snitch is worth one hundred and fifty points.

'Your grandfather, my dad, was a Chaser for Gryffindor. So was your mum. She played professionally, too, you know. One of the best Chasers on the Holyhead Harpies. I played at Hogwarts on the Gryffindor team with your Uncle Ron, Uncle Fred, Uncle George, Aunt Katie, and your mum. I was a Seeker.'

Harry looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table, and noticed it was getting to be quite late. Or early, depending on how you wanted to see it. He kissed Ginny's stomach. 'Good night, little one. And tomorrow, I'll tell you all about the time your Uncle Fred and Uncle George made an impossible bet on the World Cup - and won,' he whispered, conspiratorially. Harry quietly slid under the duvet.

'I was the best Chaser on the Harpies,' Ginny murmured sleepily.

'You heard that?'

'Every word.' Ginny reached over, and squeezed his hand.

'You think I've gone barmy, don't you?'

'Not at all. But could you talk to Sam-I-Am when I'm awake? You get him all worked up...' Ginny trailed off as she went back to sleep.