Making Mistakes

little_bird

Story Summary:
The events leading to the birth of Albus Severus Potter.

Chapter 02 - But Not Yet

Posted:
09/25/2008
Hits:
1,888


Ginny nudged the empty bowl aside, and reached for a slice of bread. She methodically tore it into pieces. Harry picked up her bowl and took it to the sink. 'I can do that,' she protested. 'I'm only pregnant, not crippled.'

Harry shrugged. 'You can do it next time.'

Ginny let her head fall to the table with an audible thunk. 'Ow.'

Harry filled the sink with hot, soapy water. 'How are you feeling? I meant to ask earlier.'

'Meh.'

'What's "meh"?'

'Tired,' Ginny said. 'No, not tired.' She paused considering. 'Worn out. Exhausted. Chasing James around, covering the Harpies, this...' She lifted her head from the table. 'Nauseated most of the day. Not like James, though, where the sight of food made me want to vomit, just where nothing tastes like it's supposed to. Then around two or three in the afternoon, I get hungry, and I want something, I just don't know what.' She chewed one of the shards of bread meditatively. 'And you've seen the weepy, emotional thing already.'

Harry nodded, as he pulled a dishtowel from a drawer and picked up a bowl and began to dry it. 'Are we telling people?'

Ginny rolled a cube of bread between her fingers. 'Not yet,' she sighed.

Harry eyed Ginny speculatively. -When had she started to show with James? he wondered. Third month? Fourth month? 'Uh, Gin?'

'Hmmm?'

'How far along are you?'

'I'm not sure. Six weeks, maybe eight weeks?'

Harry put the last dish away in the cupboard. 'We're going to have to tell them sometime. Not exactly something you can hide for long.'

'I know!' Ginny said irritably. She drew in a deep breath, counting to ten as she slowly released it. She massaged her temples. 'After Hermione and Ron have their baby. She's only got another month to go.' She looked at Harry pleadingly. 'Please? Don't say anything yet.'

Harry frowned. 'If that's what you want,' he said reluctantly. 'Who else knows?'

'You and me for sure. Mum knows, even though I didn't come out and say so.' Ginny went to fetch the teakettle and fill it with water. 'I'll talk to her tomorrow.' She looked at Harry, as she put the kettle on the stove. He was nervously arranging the dishtowel on the bar. 'Spit it out,' she sighed. 'I know you want to say something.'

'Why don't you want to tell anyone?' Harry leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. 'It's not like they're not going to find out sooner or later.'

'I'd just prefer it to be later, all right?' Ginny pulled a cup from the cupboard.

'Gin, I'm sorry... I just don't get it. You'll have to give me a better reason than that.'

Ginny set the kettle down slowly. 'I just need some time,' she mumbled into her cup. 'To get used to the idea of it all. I didn't want...' She stopped herself.

'To get pregnant again?'

'Yes. No.' Ginny inhaled as she watched the expression on Harry's face tighten. 'It's not that black and white,' she said defensively.

Harry walked to his chair at the table and turned it so he could straddle it and look at Ginny. 'Yes, it is.'

'No, it's not,' Ginny insisted. 'And don't play the orphan card.' What the hell did I just say? Ginny mentally smacked herself on the forehead.

Harry's hands tightened on the back of the chair. Ginny could clearly see the scars on the back of his right hand. 'I wasn't going to,' he said tightly.

Ginny felt tears well up. Damn it. This was not going how she planned. 'I didn't mean to say that.' She tried to keep the tears from falling, but failed. 'I just didn't want to get pregnant again so soon!' She was getting worked up to a good rant. 'James is still in nappies, he's barely a year old. He's getting into everything that's not three feet over his head. And the breastfeeding. God, Harry, as involved as you are, you can't do that, and it's every couple of hours, day and night! What if this one is like James, and he won't take a bottle at that bloody three in the morning feeding? Sometimes, I feel like I'm barely able to tread water with just one, and we're going to add another one?'

Harry was breathing in shallow pants, he was almost as angry as she was. 'I thought you wanted more than one child!'

'I do!' Ginny shouted. 'I just don't want us to turn into my family!'

As soon as the words left her mouth, Ginny clapped a hand over it. Both of them stared at each other in stunned silence, all the air in the kitchen seemed to have vanished. Her eyes were wide, dark pools. Harry's hands clutched convulsively on the wood of the chair back. 'Explain,' he said quietly, as if he was speaking to an Auror trainee.

Ginny's mouth worked silently a few times. She slid to the floor, palming the tears off her cheeks, sniffling. 'Oh my God,' she whispered. She felt her stomach heave, and Ginny shot to her feet and hit the back door at a run, not caring that her sock-clad feet sank into several inches of snow. She leaned against the back of the broom shed, and threw up into the snow, crying as she did so. She felt Harry's hands pull her hair from her face, lightly rubbing her back.

Harry waited for Ginny to finish. 'Gin? Come on, we need to go back inside.'

Ginny nodded in misery. Harry leaned down, and swung her into his arms, as if she weighed less than James. She cried into his t-shirt as he carried her into the house, and up the stairs to their bedroom. He settled on the armchair, and peeled her soaked socks off her feet, then rocked her slowly until she calmed down. When she had stopped crying with a hiccup, he brushed her hair from her face with a gentle hand. 'Would you mind telling me what that was about?' he asked mildly.

Ginny wriggled from his grasp, and slowly paced across the room a few times, trying to sort it out herself. She went to sit on the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest. 'I don't know, really.'

But she did. She remembered every tension-filled dinner when Hogwarts letters came, as her parents whispered under the hubbub of the boys' chatter. She remembered with vivid clarity her second-hand books and robes. It didn't matter much to her. Ginny hadn't ever been materialistic that way. But she remembered how much it had hurt Ron. How much he had hated the too-short pajamas, the already-worn clothing by the time he got it. She had seen the near-feral look on Fred's face when she came home the summer after her fourth year, and he was telling them how well the shop was doing. And the slight worry on George's. Percy coming far too close to equating money with morals for comfort. Bill leaving England for Egypt, so he could make more money than if he had stayed at home. Charlie leaving school early to go work on the dragon reserve in Romania.

Ginny slowly lifted her gaze to Harry's face. 'It's silly.'

'It's not silly if it makes you cry like that.'

'You were never poor,' she began.

Harry snorted. 'Yes, I was. From the age of one to eleven. My first school uniform was the first set of clothes I ever had that fit and weren't ten sizes too big.'

'But you never had to worry about money after you found out who you were.'

'Only in the wizarding world. That vault full of Galleons in Gringott's didn't do me any good at my... At the Dursley's.'

'You know the fund for poor students at the school?' Ginny asked.

'Yeah.' Harry looked at Ginny questioningly.

'We had to use it. My first year. And my second.'

'Why?' Harry had never heard about this.

'Five of us at Hogwarts,' she said pointedly. 'On Dad's salary.'

'Ginny, I would have given your family everything I had, if your mum and dad would have accepted it.'

'They wouldn't have,' she said a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice.

'No,' agreed Harry.

'It was hardest on Ron,' Ginny reflected. 'At least I got a few new things every so often, being the only girl. Poor Ron got everything after it had been run roughshod by everyone from Bill on down to the twins.' Ginny's hand fell to the quilt, and she began to trace the path of the stitching with a forefinger. 'I decided when you and I started dating, that I wasn't going to ever be in a situation where we would have to do that to our children.'

'That would never happen, Gin,' Harry said, trying to convince her. 'Between what I inherited from my parents and Sirius, it's not something we have to worry about. And we both have good jobs,' he added.

'Look at what happened to the Malfoys,' she muttered.

'That's different. They're not poor, either Gin. Just not as wealthy as they were. Lucius and Draco Malfoy are still wealthy enough that they don't have to work,' Harry replied evenly.

'But it can happen.' Ginny knew she was being unreasonably stubborn.

'Yes, it can.' Harry was willing to say anything to placate Ginny right now.

'And I'm scared,' she admitted, talking more to the pillow in her lap, than Harry.

'Why?' Harry had moved to the bed, perching on the foot and leaning against one of the posts.

'I don't want any of our children to ever feel like Ron.' Harry started. He was certain he had never told Ginny about the locket, and was pretty sure Ron hadn't either. He wasn't even sure if Ron had ever told Hermione about it. Ginny continued as if Harry hadn't reacted. 'I saw it all the time. Ron... He's always been so overshadowed by everyone, even me, because I was the only girl born to the Weasleys in generations. Even at school, between you and Hermione - the Boy Who Lived and the cleverest damn witch to hit Hogwarts in ages. Don't get me wrong, there are things Ron is bloody brilliant about when he puts his mind to it, and forgets he's one of the Weasley boys.' Ginny was visibly drooping by now. She closed her eyes, and began to relax into sleep.

Harry crawled up to Ginny on the bed. 'Gin?'

Ginny woke up, flailing a bit. She turned her head to see Harry stretched out beside her. 'I'm sorry,' she mouthed.

'It's all right,' he said soothingly, as he unbuttoned her jeans, and worked them off. He tugged the pillow from her grasp and pulled the quilt over her. 'Get some sleep.' He sat next to Ginny as she snuggled into the pillow and fell asleep. He leaned back against the headboard, stroking her hair. 'We can handle it, Gin. I promise.'

******

Harry trudged downstairs, and flopped on the sofa. He eyed the films he had chosen for their evening alone. It was a total wash. He groaned and Banished them to their shelf. His head hurt. Ginny had had doubts and fears when she was pregnant with James, of course, but this was something he had never seen before. 'Orphan card,' he snorted. It was almost below the belt. Almost. And, oh, how close she had been. He had been ready to tell her that if she had no family, she wouldn't be so quick to think having another baby was a bad thing. He pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure what had made him so angry - that she had actually said it, or that she had doubts. Maybe both.

'Harry?' Ron's voice came from the sitting room fireplace.

Harry let his glasses fall back into place, and he lifted his head from the back of the sofa. 'Everything okay?' he asked worriedly. Hermione was due to give birth in a month or so. 'Hermione all right?'

'Oh yeah.' Harry could see Ron dismissively wave off Harry's concern. 'Is Ginny around?'

'No. She's gone to bed.'

Ron's head tilted as he checked the time. 'It's barely eight-thirty,' he observed. 'She feeling all right? Looked a bit peaky at lunch Sunday.'

'Rough week,' Harry said smoothly, grateful he didn't have distinctive "tells" that gave away when he was deliberately lying about something.

It seemed to satisfy Ron. 'Can I come over for a bit? I need to talk to you.'

'Can it wait until tomorrow?' Harry was starting to feel the day himself.

'No.' Ron's voice was serious in a way that made Harry sit up.

'Come on. We'll go into my office.'

Ron's head disappeared and in seconds, all of Ron spun onto the hearth rug. Harry laid a finger over his lips, signaling Ron to be quiet. Ron nodded and followed Harry into the small office off the sitting room. 'Thanks, mate.'

'No worries. So then... What is it?' Harry fully expected Ron to burst into a babble of baby-related worries, but he was not expecting what Ron said next.

'It's this.' He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment sealed inside a Muggle plastic storage bag.

Harry took it from him, with a raised eyebrow. 'You've been watching Law and Order again, haven't you?' He raised the bag and examined the parchment inside. 'I thought Hermione cut you off.'

'She tried to.' Ron grinned.

'So what is this?' Harry gestured to the parchment.

Ron immediately sobered. He pulled out his wand and put Silencing and Impenetrable charms on the door. 'Death threat.'

'On who?'

'Hermione.'

'Why?'

'House-elf regulations she's drafting.'

Harry's eyes widened. It had been Hermione's dream to create a set of laws regarding the treatment of house-elves for over ten years. He carefully set the bag on the desk, and rummaged for his dragon-hide gloves. Harry pulled them on, and gingerly opened the bag, and pulled out the letter. It looked like it had been written by a character in a prosaically-written crime novel. The letters had been cut from old magazines.

Listen, Mudblood - Stop trying to make the beasts equal to wizards. Have you no pride? Of course not; you're nothing but a filthy Mudblood. If you don't stop, we'll stop you.

Harry looked at Ron, as he carefully replaced the note in the bag and stripped the gloves off. 'Is this the first one?'

Ron tried to keep from squirming. 'Yeehhhhh - No,' he admitted. 'Just the latest one.'

'How many has she gotten?' Harry pulled a scrap of parchment across the desk, going into Auror mode, leaving everything else behind.

'Once a week for the past six weeks. They usually come to the flat. She just tosses them into the fire, but she wasn't home this afternoon when it showed up.'

'Is she worried at all?'

'Doesn't appear to be. She says it's just the same kind of gits who sent her hate mail during our fourth year.'

'So let me get this straight.' Harry leaned back, massaging his temples. 'Hermione's been getting threatening notes for almost two months?'

'Right.'

'And she's not worried or bothered by them?'

'No.'

'So why are you just now telling me this?'

'She doesn't know I'm here. I wanted to tell you the first time we got one.'

'Ah.' Harry nodded.

'Am I right to be worried?' Ron cracked his knuckles nervously.

Harry twirled the quill in his fingers. 'I would be. But I'm paranoid.' Harry put the quill down. 'I'll take this over to Gibson first thing Monday,' he said referring to the Head Auror. Harry looked at the note thoughtfully. 'Actually,' he said slowly. 'I might go over her head and take it to Kingsley first. Tomorrow at lunch, we should make some discreet inquiries to see if anyone else has gotten one.'

Ron looked startled. 'Why would...?' His expression cleared. 'Oh, right.' He gave Harry a hard look. 'Have you gotten one?'

'No,' Harry assured him.

'Really? You're not just yanking my chain?'

'Ron, mate, you've got a wife who's eight months gone with child. You don't mess with a man whose wife is that pregnant.' When Ron still didn't look convinced, Harry sighed. 'I promise Ron, on the head of my son, I haven't received one of those notes. And if I had, I would have said something.'

'Do you think anyone else has one?'

'Maybe anyone else who's working on this with Hermione. Family...' Harry shrugged. 'I'm not sure. But we're shite at keeping secrets in this family.'

'Yeah.' Ron gave a half-hearted chuckle.

'We've got a good third-year trainee in the Aurors,' Harry said. 'I'll get her to check on Hermione at the Ministry. Good surveillance training.'

'Since when did you start working with the trainees?'

'Since last fall,' Harry mused. 'Gibson's looking to retire soon, so she's starting to delegate some of her duties, like working with the trainees.'

'Which is why you want to take this to Kingsley.'

'Yeah. Gibson's nice and all, but she's not really into it anymore.'

Ron nodded. 'Thanks, mate. I mean it.' He stood up. 'I'd better get back. She's a little... Uh... Emotional lately.'

Harry chuckled quietly. 'I know how that goes,' he said sympathetically. He walked Ron into the sitting room, and Ron Flooed back to London. Harry leaned on the mantle. He let his thoughts drift back to that letter sitting on his desk. 'Just what I need right now. A frightened pregnant wife, a rambunctious toddler, and a death threat. Doesn't get any better than this,' he drawled sarcastically.

Harry turned around and headed upstairs, using his wand to turn off the lights downstairs. It was time for him to get to bed.

It looked like it was going to be seven long months.