Making Mistakes

Harry watched Ginny sleep. He tilted his wrist and squinted at the face of his watch. She would wake up soon. He'd found out she had a bracelet, a lot like the one the baby had. It would vibrate every few hours during the night, and Ginny would haul herself out of the bed, and stumble into the room across the corridor to try and feed the baby. It could take a while because he would grow tired and stop after a few minutes. Harry quickly learned that if Ginny didn't wake up promptly once the bracelet began to vibrate, it grew more insistent. Then, it started beeping. It didn't stop until she actually left the room. Harry woke up every time Ginny did, and ignored her admonishments to go back to sleep. He couldn't sleep without her, so he got up with her.

To say it was grueling was an understatement.

This vigil was the hardest thing Harry or Ginny had ever done.

Four times as Tuesday bled into Wednesday, the baby stopped breathing. Once, the trainee had to intervene. It was almost as frightening as the first time.

We really do need to name Bun. Can't keep calling him that or The Baby for the rest of his life..

Sleeping in the narrow bed with Ginny brought back memories of the month before Ginny went back to school for her seventh year. They'd found an old hammock in the tool shed and strung it up between two of the trees that separated the paddock from the back garden. They'd spent many afternoons after lunch face-to-face, sometimes talking, sometimes sleeping, but always cocooned away from the rest of the world. Without his glasses, in the dusky glow of the small light on the far table, Ginny looked much younger than her near twenty-five years. Not that she actually looked her age. Many people assumed both he and she were several years younger than they really were. She certainly didn't look old enough to have two children.

Harry felt his chest tighten and closed his eyes. He knew he would have to leave again soon, but he hadn't come any closer to figuring out a way of telling Ginny than he had been last night. But he knew Arthur had been right. Ginny deserved to know as much as he was able to tell her, without jeopardizing the case, and Harry also knew she would stay silent, even under an Unforgivable. Without his having to ask her to.

Ginny's wrist began to buzz softly next to his ear. She whimpered softly and tried to burrow into Harry's chest, but the vibrations grew steadily stronger. 'I'm up, I'm up,' she muttered, and slowly sat up, rubbing her face. Harry slid out of bed and helped Ginny to her feet, guiding her half-asleep feet to the door. Once she crossed the threshold, the buzzing stilled, and Harry propelled her into the other room. 'You're doing this next time,' she mumbled through the hair falling into her face.

'Love to, but don't have the right equipment,' Harry replied softly.

'I'll figure something out,' Ginny retorted sleepily. She lowered herself into the rocking chair, with her head propped on one hand. Harry scooped the baby into his arms, and nuzzled the black fuzz sprouting on his head. Harry picked up the blanket from the cot. It had a Warming charm, and keeping Bun warm was a priority. He unbuttoned a few of his shirt buttons and settled the baby on his chest, skin-to-skin, tucking the blanket around him. Kangaroo care, Shanti had called it Monday when she suggested he try it. Oddly enough, it was soothing for Harry, too.

The last two days had given Harry a crash course in premature babies. He didn't cry when he was hungry, like James had. He got fussy and whimpered a bit, sticking out his tongue and rooting against the front of his or Ginny's shirt. Harry had nearly jumped out of his skin yesterday morning when Bun's tiny tongue swiped over his chest while he'd been holding him in the kangaroo pose. The apnea was terrifying on its own, and the idea that Bun could just stop breathing like that made him count each breath even more obsessively than he already had.

'Is he hungry?' Ginny asked, her voice gritty from weariness.

Harry angled his head so he could see the baby. He was blinking slowly, but hadn't displayed any signals yet. 'Probably, but he's not saying so just now.'

'Okay...' Ginny's voice trailed off, and her eyes slowly closed. She continued to slowly sway to and fro in the rocking chair. Like Harry, she had found the past few days to have been a rather thorough education. It was not an experience she cared to repeat any time soon. Ginny's eyes opened to slits and she glanced at Harry cuddling the baby. His hair stuck out wildly about his head. It put her in mind of James when he first woke up. She felt a tendril of guilt spring up. She hadn't bothered to spare a thought for James since Sunday. Her focus had contracted to this room and the one across the corridor. 'Damn it.'

'What?' Harry carefully looked at her, trying to not jar the baby.

'James.' Ginny straightened in the rocking chair. 'I don't suppose you know how he's doing, do you?' she asked guiltily.

'Yeah, I do.' Harry shifted his position in his chair. 'Your dad said last night he was fine.' Harry stiffened as the baby's mouth opened and closed against the bare skin over his collarbone, looking for something that wasn't there. 'Hey now,' he said softly to the baby. 'I can't help you with that.' Harry stood up. 'I think he's hungry now.' He laid the baby in Ginny's arms, tucking the blanket around his tiny body.

Neither of them spoke while Ginny coaxed the baby into eating. He fell asleep after more than thirty minutes, and Ginny put him back into the cot. She looked up at Harry, embarrassment highlighting the freckles scattered across her face. 'Do you mind...?' She cleared her throat a few times. 'I have to pump, and it's not something I enjoy doing with an audience,' she sighed, gesturing toward her still-swollen breasts.

'Right.' Harry pushed himself to his feet and went to the door. 'I'll just be in the other room, then.' He stopped at the door and turned. 'Gin? Could I do the next feeding?' he asked wistfully, indicating the pump in her hand. It was a job they had shared with James, and Harry had enjoyed the time with him.

'Absolutely,' Ginny declared emphatically. 'You can do it some tonight, too if you want.'

'Thanks.' Harry awkwardly ducked out of the room. He bent to touch his toes, stretching the muscles of his back, cringing at the popping sounds coming from his back. Gradually, vertebrae by vertebrae, he rolled upright, only slightly dizzy. At least we're talking, he thought. Neither of them had brought up the case over the long hours of the night, and they kept their brief conversations focused on the baby.

The double doors at the end of the corridor squeaked and Harry turned to see Molly carrying a large basket. Harry's stomach rumbled at the scent of freshly baked muffins drifting from the basket, reminding him he hadn't really eaten since Sunday afternoon.

'Morning, Harry.' Molly went into Ginny's room with the basket and set it on the far table. 'Are you hungry?' She reached into the basket and unpacked the muffins. The scent of vanilla and blueberries grew stronger. Harry's stomach growled audibly, and he reached for a muffin. 'I guess that's a yes.'

Harry poked through the basket, unearthing two vacuum flasks. He opened one, and inhaled the scent of tea, moaning beatifically as he poured a cup for himself. He sipped it, letting the liquid slide down his throat. After the past few days, any type of caffeine was ambrosia. He was about to pour another cup for himself when he stopped. 'What's in the other one?'

'Orange juice.'

Harry nibbled the muffin contemplating the flasks. With a regretful sigh, he replaced the cap on the tea and put it back in the basket. Ginny could use it more than he could. He opened the juice, and took a few hasty gulps from it, before he went back across the hall. Ginny was performing a Freezing charm on the milk, handing it to the trainee to store until later. 'Your mum's brought breakfast,' he said.

'I'm not hungry,' Ginny replied tiredly.

'You really should eat, Gin.'

Ginny just shrugged. She knew she should, but she was so tired. She just wanted to lie down and sleep. 'Maybe later.' Ginny sat back in the rocking chair. 'Is Mum still here?'

'Yeah.'

Ginny nodded, not saying anything.

'Do you want her to leave?' Harry asked.

Ginny shook her head.

'Ginny, you heard Shanti, you have to eat.' Harry stood looking at her, his hands on his hips. 'If not for you, then do it for him,' he said, pointing at the cot. He pulled her to her feet. 'Go eat something, and I'll stay here.'

Ginny looked doubtfully at the cot. 'Are you sure?'

'Yeah. Go on.' Harry jerked his head toward the door giving Ginny a slight push.

Ginny left the room, feeling a twinge of guilt as she went into the other room. 'Thanks, Mum,' she murmured.

'It's nothing.' Molly waved off Ginny's expression of gratitude. 'I'll not have you eat what they try to pass off as food here. You need to keep up your strength.'

Ginny broke a muffin in half and inhaled it. She blinked and reached for another one. She didn't realize how hungry she was until she'd eaten three muffins, with barely a pause between each one. Ginny lifted the cup of tea next to the basket of muffins, cradling it between her hands, the same sort of blissful expression Harry had worn earlier. She noticed Molly's stunned look. 'Guess I was hungry after all.'

'You think?' Molly snorted. 'Here, I brought you some fresh clothes, too.'

Ginny ran a hand through her hair. 'Thanks. There's only so long you can handle being in dressing gowns.'

'Why don't you go have a shower?' Molly suggested. 'You'll feel so much better.'

'But I...' Ginny stopped, thinking longingly of a hot shower. 'I don't want to leave the baby alone...'

'Alone? Ginny, Harry's in there, a Healer's in there, I can go in there... That baby is not alone.'

'But...' Ginny's face set in stubborn lines, unwilling to give in this.

'Ginny, listen to me. If you don't start taking care of yourself, you're going to end up sick, unable to take care of the baby.'

'Why does everybody keep saying that?' Ginny threw up her hands in exasperation.

'Because you're not sleeping, for one.' Molly held up an accusatory finger. 'Two, you're barely eating enough to keep a pixie alive.' Another finger shot up to join the first. 'Three, you spend nearly all your waking hours watching him in that cot.' Molly added another finger. 'Four, you haven't once asked about James since Sunday.'

Tears leaked from Ginny's eyes, and she dashed them from her face. Another wave of guilt crashed over her. 'I'm so scared, that something will happen to him, and I won't be there. I'm his mother! I have to be there.' Ginny's voice rose hysterically.

Molly sighed and pulled Ginny down on the bed, putting her arms around Ginny. Molly rubbed Ginny's back for a moment. 'Gin, if you don't ever take any advice from me, take this bit.' She tilted up Ginny's chin. 'It's all right to be selfish every once in a while as a mother. You'll go mad otherwise.'

Ginny gaped at her mother. "Selfish" was not a word Ginny would have ever associated with Molly. If anything, Ginny thought her mother had been far too selfless over the years.

Molly fished a handkerchief from the pocket of her robes and handed it to Ginny. 'Surprised, are you? Trust me, if you ever have seven children, you'll learn that a bit of selfishness is not a bad thing. It's all right to take a shower right now, or have a bit of a nap, or let Harry feed the baby every once in a while. You can lose sight of yourself if you don't.'

Ginny twisted the handkerchief between her hands. 'You never did that,' she insisted mulishly.

Molly laughed. 'Yes, I did. Every Saturday afternoon. I left your dad in charge of you lot and did what ever the bloody hell I wanted to do. Even if all I did was bake my favorite pie for pudding because it's what I wanted, and not what one of you wanted.' Molly patted Ginny on the knee. 'Now, go and have a nice shower. Wash your hair. And go back to bed. I'll go sit with the baby for a while.'

'How do you always know what to say? I don't think I'll ever figure that out.' Ginny sniffed and swiped the handkerchief under her nose.

'I'm your mum, Gin. I don't like to see you unhappy, and I'll do whatever it takes to try and make you happy.' Molly paused and continued, delicately. This was dangerous territory. 'But you should cut Harry some slack, dear. He can't always tell you everything you want to know. Not with his job,' she said. 'You shouldn't hold it against him. I'm sure he'll tell you what he can, when he can, but you can't be angry at him when he can't say anything. Or won't,' she added. 'It's hard on him, too to be apart from you, James, and the baby.'

Ginny sighed. 'I know.'

'Your father and I used to do this. What you and Harry do,' Molly said quietly. 'He joined the Order before Percy was born. He would go on an assignment, and I'd live in terror until he got back. And he wouldn't tell me anything, either. Until the day I found out I was pregnant with Ron,' she reflected. 'He was leaving to go on a mission, and I threw a plate at his head, and yelled at him that if he didn't tell me what was going on, he shouldn't bother coming home at all.'

'Did it make it easier? Knowing?'

'No. Made it worse, almost. If I heard something on the news on the wireless that something had happened in the area where your father had been, it would make my heart stop. I'd worry twice as much, until he'd come home or send word he was all right.'

Ginny sat soberly considering everything her mother had told her. There had been times in the past when Ginny would have routinely dismissed anything Molly told her. But that was before Ginny had become a mother herself. She might not always do what Molly suggested, but now she listened at least. 'I'll think about it, Mum,' she said, picking at a loose thread of the embroidery that ran along the hem of the handkerchief.

'That's all I've ever wanted,' Molly chuckled, kissing Ginny's forehead. 'But you were always determined to do it all on your own. Go on, go get cleaned up.'

Harry stood in the corridor, frozen to his spot, listening to Molly's voice. What she told Ginny only confused him further. Should he do what Arthur said to do, or did he take this new information into consideration? He forced his feet from the floor and tried to behave normally when he went back into Ginny's room. 'Sarah sent me back in here to get some sleep,' he admitted to Molly at her questioning glance. 'I fell asleep and pitched out of the rocking chair,' Harry muttered ruefully. 'I was ordered to get some sleep.'

Molly jabbed her wand at the remains of breakfast and the plate of muffins and the vacuum flasks repacked themselves into the basket. 'I'll go sit with the baby, while the two of you get some sleep. I'll come get one of you when he gets hungry.'

'Me. Wake me up.' Harry fell back into the pillows. 'I'm going to go by the Burrow at lunch. To see James,' he muttered. He inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled. Harry tried to stay awake until Ginny finished her shower, but last night caught up with him, and he fell asleep, waiting.

*****

Ginny stood under the hot water for a long time. Long enough to get wrinkly, she mused, looking at her hands. The last two days, she had barely managed to brush her teeth, much less shower. I should wash my hair. She picked up the shampoo Molly had brought with the change of clothing. It's rather manky. Truth be told, the last few days before she'd given birth, Ginny could have cared less about how she looked. She spent most of those days wandering to and fro in a trance. As Ginny worked the lather through her hair, she mulled over what Molly had told her. Maybe I would be better off not knowing...

Ginny rinsed her hair, and shut off the water. She grabbed a towel and began to dry herself, but had to sit on the edge of the tub, when a wave of dizziness overtook her. Shower must have been too hot. She pulled the pajama bottoms and on eased the top over her head. Ginny rubbed her hair with a dry towel and hung them both on hooks next to the tub. Placing one hand on the wall, Ginny walked to the bed, her knees trembling.

Harry was sprawled across the bed, asleep. Ginny lowered herself to the edge of the bed, and slid his glasses off. She reached across him to put them on the night table next to the bed. Ginny slid down, and rested her head on Harry's shoulder. He automatically tightened his arms around her, face turning into her hair.

*****

Harry Apparated in the lane beyond the back garden of the Burrow. James was sitting in a sand pit, digging industriously with a Muggle toy lorry. Harry smiled at the sight. Arthur must have gotten it for James. It looked new. He opened the gate, and made his way quietly to the side of the sand pit. He squatted down next to James, who still hadn't noticed him. 'Hey, mate.'

James' head turned so fast, Harry was surprised he hadn't hurt anything. 'DAHDEE!' James clambered over the side of the sand pit and launched himself into Harry's arms. 'DahdeeDahdeeDahdee,' he chanted.

Harry rose to his feet, tightly hugging James's sturdy little body, inhaling the scent of sweaty little boy, biscuits, and strawberry jam. He marveled at how much James had grown in the past month. 'I missed you,' he breathed, not sure if James understood, but needing to say it. Harry planted a kiss on the top of James' head.

*****

James' grubby hands were fisted into the folds of Harry's shirt. He carefully unwound the chubby fingers from his shirtfront, and laid the little boy in the old cot. James' mouth dropped open in sleep, and Harry sat in the armchair watching him sleep, vowing to come see James every day until he had to leave. Harry leaned closer to the cot. 'Hey, James. You have a new baby brother.' Harry stroked James' fluffy black hair. 'He's really small right now, so your mummy and I will have to spend a lot of time with him. But that doesn't mean we love you any less.' He stood and bent to brush a kiss over James' head.

Harry went downstairs and went into the kitchen. 'He's asleep,' he told Molly. 'I'll come back tomorrow at lunch.'

'All right.' Molly handed Harry a basket. 'I put some dinner in there for the two of you.'

'Thanks.' Harry flashed Molly a smile of gratitude. 'I remember the slop they served when James was born.'

Harry walked out to the back garden and into the lane.

*****

They ate dinner in shifts; sitting with the baby while the other ate so fast, Harry doubted they actually tasted the food. Before Shanti left for the day, she herded them into Ginny's room and closed the door. 'The two of you will take turns feeding the baby tonight. I don't want to hear from Sarah, Ewan, or Maggie that the two of you were in that room tonight at the same time. If I find out that both of you are in there at the same time between ten at night and six in the morning, I promise, I will charm your hair to turn blue.' She pointed her wand at Harry's right wrist. A bracelet like the one Ginny wore wound around his wrist. Shanti tapped Ginny's wrist, then Harry's. 'There. The alarms are charmed to alternate. There's plenty of stored milk so Ginny doesn't have to get up each time.' Shanti started to leave the room. 'The two of you are the worst patients I've ever had.' She glared at each of them in turn. 'And that includes Hermione!' Shanti yanked the door open and firmly closed it, leaving Harry and Ginny sitting side-by-side, mouths open.

'I wonder whose goes off first?' Harry wondered, holding up his wrist. The bracelet had his name, Ginny's name, and the baby's birth date on it.

'We'll just have to find out,' Ginny yawned, sliding down into the bed.

Harry watched her blink sleepily at him. He looked over his shoulder. The door was closed and Harry knew what they said wouldn't be heard by anyone in the corridor. 'So...' Harry bent to remove his trainers, and slipped his jeans off. He unbuttoned his shirt, concentrating on each button, trying to buy himself some time to think. Go on. Just tell her where you were and why. And who. Even if you don't say anything else, she deserves to know who you're dealing with. The last button slid through its buttonhole and Harry draped it over the seat of the chair. He got into the bed, and turned on his side, fingers brushing the hair away from Ginny's face. He cleared his throat. 'So...' he began again.

'So...?'

'I... Uh... That is...' Harry stammered. The words he had been wanting to tell her for months stuck in his throat. 'We should pick a name for the baby.' he blurted in a rush.

Ginny looked at him askance. 'All right,' she said. 'What did you have in mind?'

'You have to promise you won't laugh,' Harry mumbled.

'I'm too tired to laugh,' Ginny promised.

Harry twisted the bracelet around his wrist. 'Albus.'

Ginny's eyes flew open. 'What?'

'Albus,' Harry repeated.

'Do you want him to get beaten up for his pocket money during breaks at school?'

'Who's going to beat him up for being named after one of the greatest headmasters of Hogwarts at Hogwarts?' Harry demanded.

'I meant when he goes to primary school,' Ginny explained.

'We don't have to call him Albus all the time,' Harry argued. 'We can call him "Al" for short.'

'And the second name?' Ginny asked warily, as if she didn't really want to know.

'Severus,' Harry said quietly.

Ginny sat up. 'Severus? Have you lost your bloody mind?'

'Not that I'm aware,' Harry sighed. He knew it was going to be difficult to suggest this name. Even now, it tended to create knee-jerk reactions that had little basis in reality.

'Why?' Ginny asked pointedly. 'Why would you want to name our son after a murderer?'

'He wasn't a murderer,' Harry replied. 'You know that. Everybody knows that.'

'He tried to trade your life for your mother's,' Ginny reminded him. He had spent a halting afternoon before she went back to school telling him about Snape's memories.

'He kept me alive,' Harry countered. 'When he fled Hogwarts after Dumbledore died, he was still teaching me, but I was too angry and hurt to see it.' He traced the lines of Ginny's upturned palm. 'Even when I was searching for the Horcruxes, he helped. At great personal risk, I might add.'

'Still.' The corners of Ginny's mouth turned down.

'I want to do it for Mum,' Harry admitted.

Ginny was startled. 'If you want to name him after your mum, we could use her maiden name... Wasn't it Evans?'

Harry stubbornly shook his head. 'No. It has to be Severus. My mum was the only person he ever loved unconditionally. And she loved him, too. Until he was too far in...' Harry choked. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

Ginny sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, looking down at Harry's supine from. 'Both of them damn near killed you,' she finally said. 'More than once.'

'I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for either of them.'

'Why is it so important to you?'

'I told you. Naming him after Snape is for my mum. I don't think he ought to be forgotten.' Harry rubbed his gritty eyes. He had never told Ginny about Snape's funeral. Of all the things in those terrible days Harry didn't remember, he could clearly remember Snape's funeral. Nobody else was there. Harry had had Snape buried at the edge of the cemetery where his parents were buried. Every year, he went to pay his respects to Snape, sitting at the grave, staring at the simple headstone until his eyes burned. 'I need to do this, Gin.'

Ginny drew her knees into her chest. Harry's bracelet began to vibrate, and he sighed and got up. He left the room, closing the door behind him. She stared at the door. She had honestly expected him to want to use Remus. Harry was one for using names as a way to remember people. James' name was a testament to that, being named for his grandfather and Harry's godfather. Ginny had thought he would want Remus for the simple reason that Remus filled the paternal void left after Sirius' death.

Nearly an hour later, Harry slipped back into the room, smelling strongly of talcum powder. Ginny watched him slide his jeans down his legs and get into the bed. Mum always told me marriage is about compromise, she thought. Ginny cleared her throat. 'All right,' she said. 'If it means that much to you.'

Harry's eyes searched hers. 'You're fine with it?'

Ginny exhaled strongly through her nose. 'Not really.' She cupped the side of Harry's face. 'But you want it.'

Harry's eyes closed briefly, and he took Ginny's hand, kissing the palm. 'Thank you.'