a challenging year (Harry Potter)
Introduction:
disclaimer- i dont own aything
During their three years of marriage Harry, had discovered exactly how to make Ginny scream…again…and again…and again. Unfortunately, this was not one of those occasions where they had the time to sweetly explore each other and draw out their pleasure. They had stolen these precious few moments, mostly because Harry could be very persuasive when he wanted to and Ginny was simply hoping they’d both come quickly.
As much as Ginny enjoyed a fast romp with Harry, there was a reason she didn’t initiate them often. Usually these interludes were squeezed in when things were at their most hectic. It was difficult for Ginny to take her mind off of everything she had previously been focused on and lose herself in the feeling of Harry’s lean body pressed intimately against her own. In one breath, she would whimper his name as thin, calloused fingers burned a trail down her spine and then the red-head would worry that the duck in their oven would be overcooked.
Sensing that his wife wasn’t enjoying their lovemaking as much as he was, Harry sat up and pulled Ginny off of the bed with him.
“I know exactly what you need, love,” he whispered as he manoeuvred them both into position. It was one Ginny was familiar with; a thrill ran through her body as she leaned over to brace herself on their bed. Without any warning, Harry slid his penis in and began to thrust exactly how she loved him best: hard and fast. In no time, she was whimpering, her orgasm looming. Harry began to move even faster, forcing Ginny to focus only on the sensations.
Then she was screaming his name, her eyes tearing slightly with the relief of release. Harry gripped her hips tightly, his bitten nails digging into her skin. Several erratic movements later and the familiar heat of his orgasm made Ginny give one last tiny shiver of delight.
“Yessss,” her husband hissed until he stilled. Harry sighed as he gently collapsed into Ginny, causing them both to fall forward onto the bed.
Ginny was face down, arms at her sides with Harry a heavy, but comforting, weight on top of her. ‘I wish we could stay like this all night,’ Ginny thought. ‘If only I hadn’t offered to hold Christmas Eve dinner here.’
That thought galvanized her into action. With surprising strength, the Chaser pushed her husband to the floor.
“Bloody hell, Gin! Tell a bloke the next time you’re going to toss him around!” Harry stood gingerly while rubbing his bum. “How am I going to explain this bruise in the locker room?”
Ginny, however, wasn’t listening to her husband’s bruised back-side issues. She was too busy rocketing around their bedroom like a Bludger, looking for their clothing and listing off what they still had to do.
“…take a shower. I’ll go first since it takes longer to dry my hair and you can check on the duck. Do you think we have enough sides? Oh, never mind, Mum was bringing candied yams and Audrey…” she trailed off when she noticed that Harry was still standing naked in their bedroom. She threw a wrinkled shirt at his head.
“What are you waiting for? Get dressed and check on the food! You can take a shower as soon as I’m finished.”
He sighed and pulled the shirt on. “Calm down, Gin. We have until five before your family will be here. Can’t we enjoy the last bit of childless time we have left? How about we take a shower together?” If his head hadn’t been inside the shirt, he would have noticed the dangerous colour his wife’s face was turning. The only thing that saved him from a hexing was that she was in too big of a hurry to bother.
“You prat, it’s half past four now! Mum and Dad are always early. Do you want Mum to give you her “my daughter just defiled you” look again and start asking when we’re going to give her another little Potter grandbaby?”
She stormed out the door towards their bathroom, but was gratified to hear Harry mutter, “Bloody hell!” and race down the stairs to the kitchen.
It only took minutes for Ginny to shower and then Harry was hurrying to clean up as well. They had been busy all afternoon cleaning and cooking and Harry had had the idea that they might as well have sex before they showered. She wouldn’t admit to him that it had definitely taken the edge off, especially once Ginny realized that she really did have plenty of time. The duck was cooking nicely, the salad was made and the Christmas pudding looked lovely. Harry had set the table and, while their house didn’t look immaculate like it had when Kreacher had still been alive, it wasn’t bad for a young family.
They were both ready with fifteen minutes to spare, just in time to enter the lounge when it flared green to announce that Ginny’s parents had arrived, bringing six month old James with them.
While Harry helped Molly take the food she had brought to the dining room, Arthur handed James over to Ginny. She took her son upstairs to the nursery to feed him, leaving her father to make sure that they hadn’t forgotten any of James’ things. The red-head chuckled to herself. Even Ginny realized she was being silly with the number of bags and portable baby furniture she had sent with James just to stay at Grandmum and Granddad’s house for the afternoon.
The first Christmas Eve dinner at the Potters’ turned out to be a success. The duck was a little overdone because Ginny got distracted by the plates Harry had set out for the children. Ron didn’t seem to mind, probably because that meant there was plenty left-over for him. Her youngest brother earned a glare from both his mother and his wife when he announced that Ginny could cook the duck from then on.
When the fire died away, signalling that their last guest had left, a pair of strong arms wrapped around Ginny from behind.
“James is asleep. How about we check to make sure that your mum and Fleur didn’t miss anything in the kitchen and then I’ll rub your back. You deserve it for doing such a good job tonight.” Harry kissed the back of her neck, making Ginny shiver in anticipation. She thought about his suggestion for a moment before deciding part of his idea needed to be changed.
Turning around to face him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the bit of skin above his collarbone. “How about we leave the kitchen? You can still rub my back, but.” Here she paused to slide her hand down the front of his trousers, making Harry take in a sharp breath. “I think you definitely deserve a reward as well.”
The two tiptoed up to their bedroom, laughing quietly until they fell onto the soft mattress. Now they could take their time, drawing out their pleasure until it was almost too much and then falling asleep cocooned together in their duvet.
Mid-morning on 15 February 2006
The team Mediwitch sighed and Ginny felt her heart plummet. She’d finally consulted the team Mediwitch after feeling ill for the past two weeks. While she had a pretty good idea of what was wrong, only a professional would be able to confirm her suspicions.
“You’re pregnant, Ginny.” The witch, Edie, seemed torn between joy and dismay. Ginny couldn’t really blame her. It wasn’t that the red-headed witch didn’t want another child, but she had hoped she’d have a chance to play Quidditch for another year or two. There would be little possibility that she’d be considered for even the Cannons if she was on maternity leave for another year.
The Harpies had been wonderful about allowing her to practice her position in a safe environment up until she was six months pregnant with James. It was true that she couldn’t play in actual games, but she had worked hard enough that she had a shot of returning to the team once she was given clearance from her Healer.
Six weeks after James’ birth, Ginny was back on a broom with every possible precaution in place. In another two months, her Healer allowed her to start training on the reserve team. Right before Christmas, Ginny had played a half hour when one of the starting Chasers had been injured. Now it was February and it looked like her dreams of returning to her Quidditch career were dying.
Standing up with a sigh, Ginny began to redress. “Can you tell me anything else, Edie? I’m not even sure when this might have happened.” The older woman checked the colour of the potion against the chart in her book.
“Hmm. I’d say about six to eight weeks. However, the colour is unusually strong. You need to go see your Healer right away.”
Ginny nodded and thanked the Mediwitch before leaving. It didn’t take long to hunt down Gwenog. The captain was disappointed to hear the news since one of the current starters didn’t work as well with the other two as Ginny did. She was understanding, however, and asked if the younger witch would mind meeting later in the week. It was unclear what it was about, but Ginny agreed before Flooing home from Gwenog’s office.
Harry was away on assignment, probably for two more days at least. Audrey wasn’t expecting Ginny to pick James up for another four hours. The red-head was restless, flitting around their home, picking up random items before setting them down in completely different parts of the house. Finally, she decided to see if her Healer would be able to work her in that afternoon.
Afternoon of 15 February 2006
“Hmmm. Ahhh. Uh-huh. Interesting. I wonder if… It could be…” Ginny tried very hard to stay patient. Her normal Healer had been out that day, so she had agreed to be seen by Healer Pompson, er Thompson. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer and interrupted his ponderings.
“Healer Pomp, er, Thompson, what is going on? I don’t remember Healer Tanner taking this long when I was pregnant the first time.” It was all she could do to refrain from adding that apparently he was too much of a moron to figure out a simple pregnancy potion.
“I apologize, Mrs. Potter,” he said in that horrible nasal voice. “I have never seen a potion take on such a vivid colour before.” Here, Ginny shook her head, indicating she didn’t understand what was so important about the vividness of the potion’s colour. Apparently he took this as a sign to educate her. Ginny realized then and there that someone more boring than Percy did exist.
“Normally, a pregnancy indication potion is a very light, pastel colour, usually yellow, green or violet. Around twenty weeks we can administer this potion again and it will take on either a light pink or blue colour, which is how we determine gender.” He shook his head looking perplexed. “I have never seen this potion take on such a deep, luminous colour. It looks like I have a cauldron full of emeralds, instead of potion! I can only speculate what this means, of course.”
By now, Ginny was biting her lip in irritation. ‘If only I’d waited for Harry. Either Healer Tanner would have been able to see us or Harry would be able to get this prat to tell me what I need to know, instead of the potions lesson!’
“So what do you think it means?” she asked instead in her most saccharine voice.
He didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm. “Well, I do know that darker colours sometimes indicate problems, although those are indicated with various shades of orange mixed into another normal colour. Sometimes a darker colour could indicate the magical power of the foetus or the power from the parents,” here he nodded deferentially to Ginny. It was all she could do to refrain from rolling her eyes at his obvious esteem of her husband. “I believe that the colour is due to the power from the foetus, or rather foetuses. It would be impossible for one, or even two, babies to generate that sort of a glow.”
Ginny sat there staring in shock at the man. ‘There is no way he just said what I thought he said.’
Healer Thompson patted Ginny’s hand in what he must have thought was a fatherly sort of way. “Congratulations, Mrs. Potter. It appears that you and Mr. Potter can expect twins or, more likely, triplets. Mrs. Potter? Mrs. Potter!”
By this time, of course, Ginny had passed out.
Late afternoon of 18 February 2006
Once she was revived, Ginny made an appointment to see Healer Tanner for the following week. She couldn’t remember what she said to Audrey when she picked up James, but apparently her sister-in-law thought she was ill as a pot of soup came home with them.
Ginny was in a daze for the next three days. She kept telling herself that Pompson was an incompetent moron and that her normal Healer would assure Ginny that there was only ONE Potter baby on the way. Perhaps she could will it to be true.
James seemed to sense that his mummy was distracted and was even easier than normal. Of course, he was a little upset that Ginny didn’t play like she usually did, but otherwise he was content to gnaw on some books and other toys.
Ginny floated around their home nervously trying to figure out how she was going to handle being the mother of three newborns. Then she looked at James and realized if Pompson was right, they would have four children under the age of two. There was a quick call to her mother when that realization made itself known sometime on the third day after the fateful Healer’s visit. Her mum gave Ginny an odd look, but didn’t question her daughter’s need to rest for awhile.
“You might take some Pepper-up Potion after your nap, dear,” her mother advised just before Flooing to the Burrow with James.
Her plan had been to cry and feel sorry for herself without adding the guilt of neglecting James into the mix, but it turned out Ginny was still too much in shock to even do that. She continued to wander absentmindedly around the house feeling restless until she remembered what she normally did when she felt like this.
Unfortunately, tension relieving sex worked better when Harry was around.
‘It isn’t like I’ve never resorted to masturbation before,’ she thought as she made herself comfortable on their bed. ‘Merlin knows how many times I had to take care of things on my own during my last two years of school.’
That thought directly led to Ginny remembering the scene she had nearly always replayed during her “alone time” those years. Deciding a blast from the past was what she needed, the red-head slid her knickers off and swirled her fingers around her clit before allowing herself to be carried away by the memory of the first time she had experienced an orgasm with Harry.
“You look like you could do with forgetting things for awhile.” Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry’s shoulders and looked down into his face. Dumbledore’s funeral was the day after tomorrow and she had caught her boyfriend, again, staring out a common room window.
Harry gazed up at her and seemed to be weighing his options before he finally gave a feeble smile. “What do you have in mind?”
Instead of replying, Ginny pulled him up and dragged him out of the common room. There were a couple of wolf whistles, but they were half-hearted at best. Lethargy and listlessness was all that the House of Gryffindor could work up the energy for since the day Professor Dumbledore had fallen from the Astronomy Tower.
Ginny led Harry to the seventh floor right in front of the painting of Barnabas the Barmy. She walked in front of the wall three times, picturing a cosier version of the Gryffindor Common Room.
Once they were inside, Ginny attacked Harry. She kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth when he gasped and earning a whimper that ended with a moan. Harry responded like parchment set on fire, his hands immediately working her jumper over her head. With the offensive garment gone, he removed his own shirt and they drew together like magnets. The skin on skin contact made them both shiver with pleasure. This was nearly as far as they had gone before, but Ginny didn’t plan to stop here.
She fixed what she hoped was a saucy smirk on her face and gathered her courage up for the next step. “Would you like to see what colour my knickers are?”
Harry looked hesitant for a moment, but became determined when Ginny moved his hand to the button of her trousers. With all of his focus directed at easing the zipper down, she carefully removed her bra unbeknownst to him. It was easy to tell the moment Harry glanced upwards, probably to gage her reaction to what he was doing with her trousers, but instead getting his first look at his girlfriend’s naked breasts.
“Guh.” Harry’s mouth hanging open was too much and Ginny couldn’t help giggling.
Harry staggered back, taking several deep breaths in through his nose. “God, Ginny. You’ve got to stop laughing! They, they jiggle when you laugh. I don’t think I can stand them jiggling!”
This, of course, made Ginny laugh harder. The poor boy really did look like he was in pain. She tried her best to control herself and moved forward until her nipples brushed up against his chest, though small hiccups of laughter rippled through her every now and then.
A shudder went through Harry’s body at the feel of her unclothed chest against his and he closed his eyes at the sensation. It was a perfect opportunity for Ginny to slip her hand down the front of his trousers. They had done this before down by the lake, but this time Ginny worked the zip down as well.
Harry groaned as she slid her hand up and down his penis. Once her other hand had unfastened his trousers, she pushed them down his narrow hips and received her first look of her boyfriend’s penis. It looked terribly fierce, standing at attention like that, and Ginny was momentarily grateful that she wasn’t planning on having sex with him any time soon.
She looked up and saw that Harry was staring at her uncertainly. Ginny cocked her head to the side, wondering at the insecure look on his face until Harry made a move to cover himself. It was then Ginny realized that she was staring critically at a boy’s penis. He wouldn’t understand that Ginny was trying to figure out how it was meant to fit inside of her or that she was trying to memorize the entire feast of boy bits that were displayed before her eyes.
Ginny wasn’t sure what to tell him. It wasn’t as though she could say something about how big Harry was because she had nothing to compare to. Ginny had seen her brothers naked, of course, but never like this (thank Merlin). In fact, she could distinctly remember thinking that boys got the raw end of the deal with the mess they had to deal with swinging around between their legs. But, Merlin’s beard, Harry’s penis was beautiful.
Instead of trying to find the words, Ginny tentatively reached out and pulled his hands away from where they were covering his body. She ran a finger gently from the tip to the base, feeling the veins and watching how it quivered. Sucking in a breath in anticipation, she wrapped her hand loosely around the shaft, licking her lower lip as she looked up into Harry’s face again. He sighed in relief and began moaning quietly at her touch.
Ginny experimented, finding he preferred long, firm strokes, but cried out whenever she ran her thumb over the head of his penis. Finally, he seemed on the verge of losing all self-control but instead of giving in, Harry pushed her away, panting and chest heaving to regain his breath.
“I want to make you, er, come first.” Harry’s entire body blushed, but he didn’t look away from Ginny’s eyes. She nodded her acceptance and waited to see what he would do.
Harry quickly finished removing her trousers and then sank to his knees. The small fire, so similar to the larger one in their common room, cast a glow from behind him that seemed to soften the edges of Harry’s body and made the sharp features of his face stand out in stark relief. He left the pale yellow knickers in place, but Harry slid a trembling finger under the elastic. The first contact of Harry’s fingers to her flesh without the normal barriers felt like being hit with a strong Cheering Charm and drinking an Invigoration Draught at the same time. She couldn’t focus on what Harry was doing, though occasionally she knew he had pressed just right on her clit or had slid a finger inside and touched places her own fingers couldn’t reach.
Soon, Ginny was falling apart, shuddering and crying out Harry’s name and something unintelligible about Death Eaters being idiots. Harry seemed to understand and wrapped one arm around her to help Ginny move to the couch that had just appeared behind her, facing the crackling fire.
They lay face to face on the couch for what seemed like hours before Ginny felt recovered. It was then that she realized her boyfriend must be in a significant amount of pain.
“Oh, Harry! I’m sorry, let me…” She jerked her hand to his waist, but trailed off when Harry gripped her wrist.
He blushed spectacularly. “I, er, I’m good. Watching you was, er, really exciting and, er, yousmellbloodyfantastic.” Ginny couldn’t be sure she understood the last bit of what he said, but blushed all the same.
Ginny startled, crashing out of her memory and into the present at the feel of something warm scratching against her thighs. Harry’s face was rubbing against her skin, his stubble deliciously abrasive against her sensitive legs. It had been ages since she had worked herself into such a frenzy, but an orgasm was still out of her reach. He looked as frantic for relief as she felt.
The red-head pulled her husband up for a searing kiss, sucking on his lower lip in the way that made him whimper while she went to work at undressing him. It took little time to remove his shirt, but before she could unbutton his trousers, Harry was diving back down, burying his face between her legs. His voice was a little muffled, but Ginny understood the familiar words all the same.
“God, Ginny, you smell bloody fantastic! I’ve been dying to taste you all week.” She didn’t have a chance to respond before Harry pushed her legs further apart and speared his tongue inside of her. Ginny lost herself in the sensation of her husband’s mouth and hands, but an orgasm still eluded her.
Either Harry noticed he was driving her crazy but not over the edge or he was in desperate need of sex, because it didn’t take long for him to crawl up her body and sink into her. Ginny moaned and felt her entire body flush with relief.
‘This is what I’ve needed the last few days,’ she thought, gazing up into her husband’s focused eyes. He had his normal single-minded concentration to the task at hand. Between Harry’s expression and the feel of his perfect penis hitting her just right, the orgasm Ginny had been chasing all afternoon suddenly slammed into her. Harry let his control go then, crying out as he thrust erratically one…two…three more times. Then he collapsed onto Ginny; neither of them wanted the feeling of closeness to end just after sex. Ginny lay there for a moment before the reasons behind her stress crashed back into her consciousness.
“HARRY! GET OFF OF ME, YOU PRAT!” she yelled as she wiggled out from underneath him. “YOU’LL HURT THE BABIES!”
Thump. Between Ginny’s wiggling and pushing, Harry had rolled off of the bed.
“Ow. Ginny, that hurt! If you didn’t want me to…” It was clear to see the moment that everything his wife said sank into Harry’s brain. “What do you mean babies?”
Ginny wasn’t feeling very calm now. Her emotions were already on an out of control broom ride and now the very person she needed to unleash her fury on lay on the floor in front of her.
“I’M TALKING ABOUT THE BABIES YOU IMPREGNATED ME WITH, YOU GIANT PRAT!” Harry simply lay there, completely shocked and Ginny promptly burst into tears.
That seemed to spur the wizard into action. He leapt to his feet and gathered his wife into his arms doing everything he could to try to sooth her. It was the right course of action. Ginny was nearly hysterical and needed his strength more than anything else right then. When she had cried all of her frustrations out, she told Harry all about suspecting she was pregnant about a week ago, seeing the team Healer and then everything that had happened with Healer Pomp – Thompson. She finished off by relating how the last few days had been and needing to send James to the Burrow for the afternoon.
Harry listened to everything calmly. When Ginny fell silent, he finally spoke. “So, it sounds to me that Healer, er, Thompson is right and we need to be ready to have,” he paused to gulp, “triplets or something else is causing the potion to be darker than normal. You set up an appointment with Healer Tanner in two days, right? I’ll take off all next week. That way, I can go with you to the Healer. We can figure things out and do whatever we need to do after that.”
Ginny nodded. She’d never admit it to her brothers, but sometimes it was nice to be a little weak and let Harry take charge.
Harry took care of everything that evening and all day Sunday. He picked up James from Molly and asked if she could watch their son all day Monday. Meals were made, James was fed and Ginny got a laugh out of watching Harry try to encourage their son to start crawling by learning from his daddy’s example. By Sunday night, however, Ginny couldn’t help focusing on what would be confirmed the following day. She couldn’t help but be a little jealous of her husband’s apparent calm.
Morning of 20 February 2006
Ginny Potter held tightly onto her husband’s hand. They both silently watched Healer Tanner gaze intently at the third pregnancy potion the red-headed witch had added a drop of blood to in under a week.
For a long while, the Healer had a look of intense concentration on her face. It reminded Ginny strongly of how Hermione looked when working out a difficult problem. This wasn’t terribly reassuring. She may have been nervous about having more than one infant at a time, but if that had been the reason behind the dark colour, their Healer would have verified it right away. In fact, that had been the first thing Healer Tanner had said once the potion had been completed fifteen minutes ago.
“I’m not sure yet about the reasoning behind the colour, but I can tell you that you are only carrying one foetus, Mrs. Potter.” Ginny had sighed in relief before realizing this didn’t answer the question. It only negated one of the possibilities that Healer Thompson had given.
‘Pompson said it could be more than one baby, a high amount of magical power, or,’ Ginny’s heart sank as she remembered the last possible cause of the colour deviation. ‘A problem.’
Now Ginny couldn’t help but keep Harry’s hand in a death grip. Being pregnant so soon after having James may have meant that her Quidditch career was likely over, but the thought that there could be something seriously wrong with her baby terrified her. The longer it took Healer Tanner to figure out the potion, the more Ginny’s panic escalated.
Finally, the Healer looked up with a grim smile. This did nothing to help Ginny’s still increasing alarm.
“The good news is that there is only one baby and while he or she isn’t as strong as we’d like, the foetus is healthy and in no immediate danger. Unfortunately, Ginny, that means you’ll have to stay off of the broom. In fact, I’m ordering no magical travel whatsoever during this pregnancy. You own a Muggle motorcar and have a legal license, correct?” Harry nodded, and Ginny could see that he too, was panicking.
“Using the invisibility boosters, speed spells, and other charms will be fine, but no flying. At this time, I’m not going to put you on bed rest and doing light chores or picking up James will be okay. This may change near the end of the second trimester. I do want you to limit the amount of magic you use, however.”
At this, Ginny’s panic turned into confusion. Harry was quick to ask the burning question. “But with James, you encouraged Ginny to use magic. You said that she’d need to use up the excess magic from the baby.”
The Healer gave them a sad smile. “I’ve never seen anything like this potion during my years as a Healer or in any of the case studies from training. However, my professional opinion is that the darkness of the potion is not coming from the baby’s magic, but from Ginny’s. It appears that her magic is trying to protect the baby. Using excessive magic may make that protection fail or any number of other equally bad scenarios. Since he or she does not appear to be in any physical distress that I can find, the best speculation I can make is that your child is a Squib.”
Ginny didn’t really remember much of the appointment after that statement. She felt like she was underwater; the images around her were blurry and the voices seemed to come from a distance. Harry’s baritone mixed with the Healer’s higher voice, but no words penetrated Ginny’s mind. Only one devastating thought kept repeating itself over and over.
‘My baby’s a Squib!’
Early Afternoon on 18 April 2006
Whoosh!
Ginny looked up as Harry flew through the backyard, slowly for him but still far too fast for a man who was trying to hold onto a broom with one hand and a squirming baby with the other. Not that she was concerned…too much at least. All sorts of spells were in place for their protection, from temporary Sticking Charms to Cushioning Charms on the ground.
Whoosh!
“YEAHHHHHHHHHHH! Look at me, Ginny! Ginny! Look what I can do!” Seven year old Teddy was a blue blur as he followed Harry and James, doing a very good imitation of corkscrew spins. Just as he was coming out of the momentum, Teddy lost his grip and tumbled to the ground. He had only been a few meters in the air so he hit the Cushioning Charm, rolled twice and sat up giggling.
The general consensus was that Teddy got his flying skills from Harry and Ginny. When he was a baby, he had spent every other weekend with Harry. Andromeda had also insisted that both Harry and Ginny visit several times a week.
After the Potters’ wedding, Teddy split his time between his grandmother’s house and the Potters. Between Ginny’s Quidditch career and Harry’s love of flying, Teddy spent most of his time with them in the air. Even in the winter, they put Warming Charms within the smaller paddock and flew for at least a half hour every day.
Until February, there had only been two visits with Teddy that Ginny had been unable to fly with him. One was the day that James was born and the other was the week following James’ birth. But Ginny hadn’t been on a broom since her first Healer’s visit with this pregnancy and the former Chaser was itching to fly, particularly now that James was sitting up and enjoying it and Teddy was doing more advanced tricks.
She flashed a large smile at Teddy and gave him a thumb up. As he climbed back on his broom (an old Comet from the Weasleys), she sighed and returned to the “article” she was writing.
The meeting with Gwenog a week after meeting with Healer Tanner in February hadn’t been anything that Ginny had expected. The Harpies captain had asked Ginny to assist their press witch by writing the team’s releases and an occasional article. It wasn’t exactly exciting work, but it did keep Ginny feeling as though she was a part of the team.
The Harpies had been ecstatic to have someone who knew something about Quidditch writing their press releases. The last person who wrote for the team had known his way around a quill, but not around a pitch. Sloth Grip Roll had become Hanging Upside Down Roll and the Quaffle had become That Big Red Ball in the man’s articles.
Her writing may have been getting rave reviews, but Ginny hated it. She couldn’t write what she really thought (that Gaea Rotund was more suited as a Beater than a Seeker and that Gretel Schneider should take a fast Portkey back to Germany if the way English Chasers played as a team wasn’t what she was “used to”).
“You nearly done with that?”
Ginny startled at the sound of Harry’s voice just behind her ear. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed the boys had put their brooms away. Behind her, she could hear Teddy laughing and James cooing from the open kitchen door. With a smile, Ginny stood up from her chair and walked into the house to pull out the snack she had prepared for that afternoon.
It wasn’t until the little boys were engrossed in their apples (mashed for James and sliced for Teddy) that she noticed Harry was engrossed in something far different than the plate of apples in front of him.
Ginny watched his face in trepidation as the crease in Harry’s brow became further defined the farther down the parchment he read.
With a glance at the boys, he finally met Ginny’s eyes. She flinched back at the anger there.
“What the bloody hell is this?” Harry’s voice was an angry hiss that was low enough their boys didn’t notice.
Ginny took a deep breath and pointed to the parchment on top. “That is a list of schools nearby that would be good for a Squib child to attend. This,” she continued, pulling one piece of parchment to the fore, “is a leaflet of ideas of things to teach and do with a non-magical child.”
Harry’s eyes were dark with anger. He grabbed Ginny’s arm and pulled her out into the hallway. “What I meant was this!” He shoved the parchment under her nose. This leaflet was entitled ‘When and if to tell others your child is a Squib.’
“Just because our baby might not be able to do magic is nothing to be ashamed of! Plenty of great men and women were Muggles! Why can’t you just accept our baby is different and be done with it! There’s nothing wrong with him.” Harry glared at her for a moment. “Since you named James, I want to name this son. Albus Severus.”
Ginny stared at him open-mouthed. “Albus Severus? Are you daft? Why would we name ANY child Albus Severus? Can you imagine the stigma that comes with that name? Are you trying to make our child’s life harder than it will be? He’ll have enough things to hate us for as it is!”
Harry stared at Ginny for a split second before storming into the kitchen. She heard the door bang shut and a whoosh confirmed that her husband was doing what he always did when they fought.
With a sigh of longing that she couldn’t fly to cool off from an argument, Ginny picked up a fussing James and assured Teddy that Harry would be back soon.
If Ginny had known then that the next few months would be filled with silence between her and her husband or that he would be gone on field assignments frequently, she would have waited that day for Harry to finish his fly, instead of taking the boys over to the Burrow.
Late Afternoon on 25 July 2006
“I’m just not sure what to get Harry this year. Honestly, he’s the hardest man to shop for. I don’t know how you stand it, Ginny. Ron is easy; Cannons paraphernalia or Chocolate Frogs. When you suggested painting that little room by the back porch orange, I thought you were mad, but I’m so grateful for the suggestion. Now, Ronald has the perfect place to display that gaudy junk, instead of trying to hang it in our sitting room.”
Here Hermione paused from her normal rapid speech to coo at little Rose. At eight months old, Rosie was pulling herself up into a wobbly standing position by holding onto the low coffee table. According to all of the baby books Hermione had read, this was slightly advanced and, while the bushy-haired witch was careful not to gloat, sometimes she couldn’t help it.
“What a big girl you are, Rose, yes you are! Such a bright little girl!” Ginny struggled not to laugh and barely refrained from rolling her eyes. She didn’t say anything, however, because she remembered how excited she had been just a month ago when James had taken his first shaky steps from her to Harry.
Rose sat back on the floor and manoeuvred herself into position. Instead of crawling, the little girl preferred to roll everywhere. Ginny could see Hermione chewing nervously on her bottom lip as her daughter rolled over to where James was attempting to build something with blocks and the two babies started babbling together.
Her sister-in-law sighed and gave Ginny a wry smile. “She’s just like her daddy, isn’t she? They both insist on doing things their own way rather than what the books say they should do.” Both women chuckled.
“So, as I was saying, what do you suggest for Harry’s birthday this year?” The red-head tried to hide her wince at the question, but it was obvious she had failed miserably when Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Ginny?”
‘I’m surprised it took her this long,’ Ginny thought. ‘Of course, if she would have asked any other time in the last five months, I wouldn’t have answered.’
Mustering up her courage, Ginny finally asked for her friend’s advice. “I’m not sure what to get Harry either this year. We aren’t, um, really talking right now.” Hermione’s eyes narrowed further and the younger witch recognized this as a sign to continue. “It all started back in February when we found out about the pregnancy and the, er, complications.”
Her sister-in-law held up a hand. “Wait, what do you mean complications? I know you were told to take it easy, but we just assumed that meant not playing Quidditch.”
Ginny was surprised. She had assumed Harry had confided to Hermione at least about the baby being a Squib. Taking a deep breath, she launched into her confession, starting at being angry when she found out she was pregnant, scared when the first Healer had suggested there was more than one baby, depressed when they first learned that their child was a Squib and her guilt that somehow she had caused it all by either playing Quidditch pregnant or because she hadn’t wanted the baby at first. Finally, she vented her frustration that Harry seemed more upset that Ginny was concerned about raising a Squib child than he was about their child being a Squib.
Hermione sat quietly throughout Ginny’s entire tale, only nodding or patting a hand in the right places. She stayed quiet for a while after Ginny finished, only breaking the silence to coo about how cute Rose and James looked cuddled up asleep next to a large plush dog that Ron had dubbed “Fluffy.” Finally, Hermione took a deep breath.
“That’s a lot to take in. First of all, it sounds like you are both dealing with your disappointment separately, rather than together. I think that would be the first thing to clear up. My guess, and it is only a guess, mind you, is that Harry believes you see the baby as a freak.” She smiled sadly when Ginny sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m sure you can imagine how that would go over for Harry.”
“No…I…that’s not at all…why would he…but I…ARGH!” Ginny hadn’t even considered this possibility. She took a deep breath and tried to voice her thoughts coherently.
“That’s not at all what I meant! Squibs are treated like outcasts by nearly everyone. Some have enough magic to be a part of the Wizarding world, but most end up feeling more comfortable as Muggles. I just, I don’t know much about living like a Muggle and I’m nervous about trying to teach our child something I don’t know anything about! Then there’s James. It’s obvious he’s a wizard. He’s been summoning his toys since Christmas! How will this baby feel about being left out? How will James feel when we have to do things for his younger brother that we don’t have to do for him?” She took another deep breath.
“What’s Harry thinking wanting to name the baby Albus Severus, anyway? What a name to saddle any child with, but the Squib child of Harry Potter? How can he not understand what sort of expectations any of our children will have placed on them, but then he wants to add Albus Severus to that and do that to a child that will never be able to use a wand? What is he thinking?”
Hermione got up from her chair and sat next to Ginny on the couch, placing a comforting arm around her friend as she did so. “I imagine that Harry has no idea what sort of presence people feel around him or that the world views him with as much reverence as it views Professor Dumbledore. I imagine Harry only wants to honour two men he thinks highly of and it doesn’t matter to him if the child is powerful or not. I imagine that Harry sees it as a perfect name, really. Think about it, naming a child with no magic after one of the most powerful wizards ever, someone who was a champion for rights for everyone and gave jobs to Squibs.”
Everything clicked into place then for Ginny. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Harry hadn’t grown up in the Wizarding world and there were things that she knew or assumed that he wasn’t aware of. Now, it did seem right for Harry Potter to name his son after Albus Dumbledore. It even seemed right to name him after Severus Snape, as well. Their baby would need a strong will to face whatever would be in his future and who had ever had a stronger will than Snape?
Just then, Ron stumbled into the lounge, munching on a biscuit with several more in his hand. “‘Lo, Gin,” he muttered around his biscuit. “Didn’t think you’d be here. Harry knocked off early. Said something about spending time with you and James.”
“Ronald, that’s disgusting!” Hermione stated at the same time Ginny said, “Ron! Could you drive us back to our house?”
He looked confused for a moment before nodding. Hermione hurried to help gather James’ things together and Ginny waddled out to her brother’s car with Ron carrying a still sleeping James behind her.
Evening of 25 July 2006
The house was dark when Ron helped Ginny up the stairs into the Potters’ comfortable house. James was still asleep when they laid him in his room on the second floor. Her youngest brother gave Ginny an uncharacteristically shrewd look before he gave her a quick hug and then hurried down the stairs.
The red-headed witch was so lost in thought standing in the hallway outside of James’ room that she didn’t notice she had been snuck up on until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Another hand covered her mouth when she yelped, but she calmed quickly when she recognized her husband’s familiar scent.
Ginny turned to face him and stifled a gasp. She hadn’t seen Harry look this haggard since the summer after the Final Battle. He was pale and slightly gaunt and his eyes were red-rimmed. They walked quietly down the hallway to their own bedroom, before Harry spoke in a hoarse whisper. “I thought you had left.”
“Well, yes, James and I went over to see Hermione and Rose,” she replied, slightly confused when Harry pulled her into a tight embrace. “I was feeling a little closed in today so Dad drove us over on his lunch break.”
Ginny’s confusion grew when she felt Harry start shaking. “No. I thought you had left me.” She was startled to see tears pooling in his eyes when she pulled away from him. The sense of helplessness mixed with relief was palpable and Ginny’s own eyes misted over.
“Why would you think I would ever leave you?” She was bewildered by the thought.
He shook his head as though to clear it. “You blame me for…for…” He gestured at her swollen belly. Ginny looked down and then back up, even more confused than before.
“I don’t blame you! Why would you think that?”
“I blame me.” He ran one hand through his hair, though the other continued to keep its hold of her hand. He seemed worried that she would disappear if he didn’t hold onto her. “I mean, I’ve been hit by so many spells, some that we don’t even really know the effects of! Bloody hell, I’ve been hit by the Killing Curse twice! Who knows what that could have done? It’s all my fault and I…I’m just worried we’ll treat him different and make him believe he isn’t good enough or something. When you were talking about schools he could go to and when or if we should tell the family, I just…I don’t want him to feel like he’s on the outside looking in, you know?”
Ginny nodded. She did understand what he was talking about. “I love you, Harry. I’m not going to leave you.”
They stood in the middle of their bedroom, wrapped up in each others’ arms and swaying slightly. Harry pressed a kiss to Ginny’s temple and then she placed a chaste kiss on his shoulder. She followed up with an open-mouthed kiss in the hollow of his neck and Harry dipped his head to ghost his lips just under Ginny’s ear. Then they came together. This kiss was hot and comforting at the same time, both igniting their passion and soothing their anxieties.
Still swaying, they made their way to the bed. In the past, clothing would have been discarded with each step, but tonight their hands were occupied with cupping a cheek or gently stroking hair.
Harry sat once the back of his knees hit the bed. He caressed Ginny’s arms before pushing the faded Gryffindor captain shirt that she had enlarged up until it exposed her swollen belly. His eyes swept reverently over her body causing the red-headed witch to blush self-consciously. Leaning forward, Harry kissed her stomach and whispered words she couldn’t hear. Their eyes met then, both still a little red but smiling now.
The red shirt fell to the floor, quickly followed by the blue button up Harry had been wearing. Instead of moans and shouts, there were sighs and whimpers as they each explored the familiar bodies before them.
Feminine hands mapped Harry’s chest, reminding Ginny just how sexy her husband was. He pulled her into another kiss that nearly threw her off balance in its fervour. The hands holding Ginny steady slowly slipped her baggy trousers down until they pooled onto the floor. Soon after that, her aching breasts were free and Harry wasted no time before tenderly lapping at the rosy nipples.
It was a dance Ginny was familiar with, but the steps had changed just enough to completely wreck her normal poise. Love-making in the past had always seemed like an expression of their cherishment of one another. It was always equal. Tonight, however, Harry was worshipping her. Everything he did from a simple brush of his finger across her cheek to the gentle flick of his tongue on her shoulder made Ginny feel like the most treasured woman in history.
They were nestled together on their sides, Harry’s chest pressed against Ginny’s back, when he finally dipped his fingers inside her vagina. “I love you,” was gasped into her neck as her husband sank inside her body. They both sighed at the contact and snuggled more tightly into one another. Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny, resting one hand on her belly.
Thrusting was abandoned for a gentle rocking motion that was slightly lulling, but still exhilarating. For the first time ever, Ginny felt her orgasm creep up on her slowly, instead of slamming into her consciousness. She was in no rush to find release. Harry seemed to feel the same as the motion slowed somewhat.
Time stood still. It may have been hours or minutes that they slowly built up before Harry began to rock faster until he was suddenly shuddering, quietly moaning her name against her hair. He didn’t still his movements, however, and those combined with a hot kiss on the back of her neck sent Ginny spiralling into her own orgasm.
They lay wrapped up in each other for a long while afterwards. The late afternoon shadows had turned into evening’s darkness. Ginny was beginning to feel slightly hungry when the monitoring charm projected James’ whimpers into the room. Harry got up, pressing a kiss to her temple as he pulled his clothing back on.
“I’ve got James and dinner, if you can stand take-out that is,” he said, flashing a rare charming smile at his wife. “Would you rather eat first or take a bath?” Ginny’s stomach chose that moment to growl rather loudly. Harry laughed. “Should have known. Weasleys always want to eat first. Dinner will be here in about a half hour.”
He walked out of the bedroom and Ginny lay listening to him talk to James while he changed their son’s nappy and took him downstairs. Hefting herself out of bed took a bit of effort, but by the time she had finished dressing and made her way down the stairs to the kitchen, she could smell her favourite Shepherd’s pie. Heaving a sigh of relief, she felt her worries lessen. Everything was going to be okay.
Early afternoon on 23 August 2006
Nothing was okay.
It wasn’t the write up about the Harpies’ starters causing her stress. That had been relatively easy, although thoroughly boring. She appreciated the opportunity Gwenog had given her to remain a part of the Harpies’ family by writing press releases. However, if she was going to write Quidditch, Ginny would rather report facts about the games than flowery praise she didn’t believe about half of a team.
It wasn’t James, exactly, that was causing her stress. He had begun to throw temper tantrums occasionally, but most of the time he would calm down the moment he got to see whichever parent he was missing.
Harry wasn’t the problem either, far from it in fact. Since that day back in July when things had finally come out in the open, everything had been better between them. Perhaps it was slightly annoying that he was treating her more gently than she liked, but she was eight months pregnant, so it was to be expected.
No, there were two main causes of her stress. The first was the fact that she had been put on bed rest yesterday and was to remain on bed rest until the baby was born at the end of September.
Ginny hated bed rest. It was boring and she couldn’t understand how it was supposed to reduce her stress when all she did was worry about every little thing. Begrudgingly, she followed her Healer’s orders, but the next four weeks couldn’t go by fast enough, in Ginny’s opinion.
But her mother was the biggest cause of Ginny’s stress. She hated to complain since it was only four more days before Harry could take a leave of absence from work that would last until at least two weeks after the baby was born. It was only until the end of the week that she had to endure her mum’s mothering, smothering ways.
Her pillows had been plumped eight times and it was only one o’clock. She had eaten four bowls of “Special Homemade Chicken Soup.” Fifteen temperature charms and five cooling spells had been administered. Twenty-seven reassurances that Molly could handle James (not that Ginny doubted her mother’s abilities, but James was her son) before her mum finally gave into his cries and brought the one year old in to have “story-time” with Mummy.
What made it worse was that it would last until half past six tonight and start all over again tomorrow at a quarter ’til eight. Then, it would happen again on Thursday and Friday, possibly on Saturday and Ginny was certain her mother would kick Harry out of the house at least twice a week until the baby was born.
With yet another sigh, she attempted to adjust her pillows to help ease the discomfort she was experiencing in her lower back. There was absolutely no way Ginny would call her mother in to do it for her. She hadn’t asked for the earlier pillow fluffing and they had only made her more uncomfortable.
Ginny shifted to the right and then to the left to no avail. Finally she found a position that, while not exactly comfortable, eased the pain somewhat. She lay back for a moment, contemplating the idea that perhaps she should just sleep the time away when she felt a warm trickle between her legs.
“Bloody hell,” she muttered, wiggling her way out of bed. Debating whether to ask her mum to Scourgify her bed now or after returning from the loo, Ginny decided to wait until she had gotten back. Her mother would insist on helping her walk to the bathroom and probably feel that her daughter wasn’t even capable of washing her hands afterward without assistance.
Ginny turned around to see how badly she had wet the bed when it hit her that, for once, she didn’t need to use the loo. Her water had broken and, even more terrifying, Ginny could see blood as well.
For the first time that day, she realized how lucky she was that her mother was there. Ginny took a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could. “MUM!”
Early morning of 24 August 2006
Ginny sat as close to the bubble that held her tiny son as she could. She watched, entranced, as his small chest rose and fell, counting each breath. Her body was screaming for sleep, but Ginny refused. Once Harry woke up, she could sleep, but she was convinced one of them needed to sit and watch little Albus to make sure he kept breathing.
Healer Tanner assured Ginny that her son was going to be fine. He was responding well to medical spells and potions, though it would be at least a week before he could go home.
Albus looked nothing like James had twelve hours after birth. James’ appearance had been a bit of a shock, admittedly. When she and Harry had started discussing having a child, Ginny had pictured a little black haired boy or red haired girl. She expected the baby to be pink and round and tiny, just like her own baby pictures and the one they had found of Harry in his vault.
Instead, they had welcomed a much larger than expected, pink cheeked, blue-eyed, strawberry blond boy that Ginny was certain had been swapped with someone else’s child. It wasn’t until Professor McGonagall stopped by for a visit and gushed over how much James looked like Harry’s Grandfather Potter that they began to recognize James’ features.
Albus, by contrast, was both exactly what she had expected the first time and nothing like she thought a baby should look like. He was the carbon copy of Harry’s baby picture, but much smaller. His ribs stood out and the poor little thing looked starved, though the Mediwitch assured Ginny that he was receiving plenty of nutrients from the potions they administered.
James had looked small and slightly breakable. Albus was heartbreakingly small; Ron’s thumb was bigger than Albus’ entire forearm and hand. He looked like a gentle breeze could shatter him.
Ginny wanted nothing more than to cuddle her baby to her chest and protect him with everything she could. But right now, his little body needed the safety of the Bubble Charm that surrounded him and helped him breathe, and so she watched his chest rise and fall…rise and fall…
Ginny startled awake at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. The first thing her eyes fell on was Albus in his bubble; the second was her husband’s tired face looking worriedly into her own.
“You need to sleep, love. Go lay down. I’ll stay with Al.” Somehow, Harry had manoeuvred her out of the chair and himself into it before Ginny had processed all he had said. She stood for a minute undecided. True, she felt better knowing Harry was sitting there with Albus, but she didn’t want to leave him either.
“Ginny, he’ll be okay. Trust me.”
Ginny looked deep into the green eyes she had trusted since she was eleven and had awoken in a puddle of cold water. For the first time ever, she doubted those eyes. “How can you be so sure, Harry? Look at him! I just…” She trailed off as the tears she had been keeping at bay finally fell silently down her face. Harry pulled her into a tight hug before releasing her and catching her eyes once more.
“I know because I see so much of you in him that it scares me. He gets his strength from his mummy.” He smiled sadly at her then and Ginny felt her faith restore a fraction. She didn’t agree with Harry about the strength part, but she knew her husband wouldn’t let anything happen to their son if he could stop it. She kissed him on the forehead and stumbled back to her room, falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
Early Afternoon of 9 October 2006
Ginny yawned so wide that it felt like her jaw was going to crack. Albus was completely different from James. Her oldest son had been hale and hearty from day one and did exactly what a parent would want their first baby to do. He ate well, slept through the night before he was three months, hit every milestone on time, smiled or laughed plenty and rarely cried.
Their youngest son was the opposite. He seemed disinterested in nursing for more than a few minutes at a time, woke up after barely an hour of sleep and cried for hours at a time. It was enough to drive anyone to their wit’s end.
Strangely enough, neither Ginny nor Harry had reached that mythical place of “Wit’s End.” There were days when one or the other needed a short break, of course, but most of the time they simply went through their days exhausted but happy. Happiness had set in for the Potters the moment Albus was declared healthy enough to go home after three weeks spent in St. Mungo’s.
Ginny yawned again and looked at the clock. Harry had managed to pull some strings and had worked only a couple of days a week since his original leave had ended nearly a month ago. It had been a relief to have her husband around to help out. Today, however, he had been called into an important meeting with Robards and Ginny had insisted he sleep in the guest room last night with a Silencing Charm up so that he’d be well rested. She hoped Harry would be home soon as this was one of those days she needed to take a nap.
Ginny had just settled into her rocking chair, with Teddy playing with James nearby. She had Albus in her arms and was getting ready to remove her top to nurse him when Harry tumbled out of the green flames onto their sitting room floor.
Harry had never mastered the art of the graceful Floo exit, but he had managed to learn how to remain standing when he reached his destination. When he untangled himself from Teddy and James (who had felt tackling him was necessary), she could tell he was excited about something.
“Ginny! I won’t have to be gone so much! I’ll have to go to more meetings and we’ll have to actually attend some of the Ministry Balls, but I’ll be home with you and the boys more!” Ginny laughed and shook her head.
“What are you talking about, Harry?”
He knelt before her and took the hand that wasn’t cradling Albus into his own. “Kingsley and Robards offered me the Director position. I start training with Robards next week and then will step into it when he retires next spring.”
She couldn’t help the small shriek that escaped her then. It wasn’t as though Harry had ever wanted to be Director of the Auror Department, but he had been trying to get a training position that would mean more home time. The Director had many more responsibilities, but rarely went on field assignments – even less than the trainers did.
“Mama! Ow unt foo.”
Ginny and Harry stopped their excited talking at James’ words. The one year old seemed very upset that they weren’t paying attention to what he thought they should be.
“What, James? What about Al?” Ginny tried not to roll her eyes at Harry’s question. No matter how many times she insisted that the baby’s name was “Albus,” everyone else (including Harry) had shortened his name to “Al.”
Teddy cut in to interpret. “He said that Al wants food.” James clapped and pointed to where Albus was cuddled up against Ginny’s chest, one small hand reaching towards the edge of her dressing gown as though trying to pull it back. Harry laughed and backed up a little to give his wife and infant son their space.
It happened so quickly Ginny thought she imagined it the first time it happened. A small burst of light left Albus’ tiny hand and pulled the lapel of her dressing gown slightly away from her chest. The second time there was no mistaking what had happened. Their baby gave a small cry and the fabric moved again, this time pulling away far enough to expose the white shirt underneath.
Dazedly, Ginny finished manoeuvring her clothing out of the way and helped Albus latch onto her breast. When he was finally settled and contently nursing, she looked up at Harry with tears in her eyes. It was gratifying to see he was misty eyed as well.
“He’s a wizard, Harry.”
Her husband could only nod.
Evening of 24 December 2006
“All I’m saying is that we have plenty of time to have a quick shag before we have to go over to Ron and Hermione’s.” Ginny could feel her husband smirk against her shoulder. Harry had snuck up behind her while she was putting the finishing touches on the salad they were taking to Christmas Eve dinner this year. For once, Ginny hadn’t been insulted by a family member assuming she couldn’t fix anything more difficult; two small boys meant there was little time for cooking even, when Harry was there to help.
At this moment, however, Harry was certainly not helping. He was flush against her back, insistently rubbing his erection against her. His hands had crept up to cup her breasts, hindering the arrangement of the vegetables. Ginny tried to hide the smile on her face. She loved it when Harry did this to her, even if it was a bit annoying that she wasn’t getting anything done very quickly.
“Please, Gin,” he whined. “I put the boys down for a nap.” Ginny just smirked and continued to ignore him.
Finally, the salad was complete and Ginny turned around in Harry’s embrace. “A quick shag, huh? I think we can squeeze it in,” she said, while nuzzling Harry’s neck and slipping her hand into his trousers. He gave a stuttering moan before walking backwards out of the kitchen, dragging Ginny with him.
Every few steps, Harry would press her against a wall to wantonly kiss her lips or grind his erection against Ginny’s body, causing them both to moan. Their clothing seemed to melt away, leaving the most sensitive spots vulnerable to inflaming touches. By the time they had reached the top of the stairs, Ginny was wearing only a pair of old knickers and Harry was shuffling along in just his socks. He picked her up, stealing one last searing kiss before striding across the room to their bed.
As Harry leaned over the bed to cover Ginny’s body with his own, she stopped him. She rose slowly to her feet, pushing Harry upwards gently with one hand. When she finally stood before her husband, Ginny didn’t surge into his arms like she had earlier. Instead, an idea that had tickled her brain earlier in the day caused her to take a small step backwards, smirking all the while.
“If you don’t want to have sex, let me know now,” Harry whined. “I could just go have a wank in the shower.” Between the image of a wet Harry fisting his penis, eyes closed and mouth open in a moan, and the way the real Harry ran his hand through his hair causing it to stand up in a way that made him look utterly shaggable, Ginny was distracted from answering him long enough that he began to walk towards their bathroom.
That motivated her into action. She skipped after him, catching Harry’s hand just before he strode out the door.
“Wait! I want to have sex. I just wanted to try something a little different, that’s all.” Harry’s eyebrow rose in scepticism at the first part, but he looked very excited about the “something different” part.
“Does this mean you’ll put on that leather thing the team got you for a wedding gift?” Years ago at her hen party, the Harpies had gone in together to get Ginny a leather outfit that consisted mostly of a bustier and a pair of thigh high boots, as well as a whip. Ginny had blushed spectacularly when she had opened it up, but Harry had been fascinated with the leather as soon as he found out about it. Although, he did agree the whip wasn’t necessary.
She shook her head. Perhaps one day she’d be comfortable trying it on for her husband, but not this afternoon.
“No.” Harry’s face fell a fraction, but he didn’t look very disappointed. “I was thinking, er, I’m not really sure I can explain what I want, actually. Just trust me.”
Harry gave her a small smirk as if to say ‘I always trust you,’ but didn’t speak. He stood stock still while Ginny walked around him slowly, dragging her fingers across his shoulders and arms. When she reached his back, she stood and faced the back of his neck. Her fingers ghosted over his tense muscles and she knew he was wondering what his wife was up to. He visibly shuddered, however, when Ginny pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the back of his neck and began trailing kisses down his spine. Harry’s breathing had quickened to the point of near panting by the time she reached his waist.
She stood, pressing her nearly naked body flush up against his and reached around to lightly scratch his chest with her nails. His breath hitched whenever she snagged a nipple or her fingers dipped below his bellybutton. The only movement he made, however, was to rub his shoulder blades lightly against her breasts.
Finally, Ginny wrapped one hand around his penis while the other cupped his sac. Harry let out a rather pathetic sounding whimper, but it was music to her ears. Only she could make him that needy.
She stroked him lightly, knowing that it would drive him around the twist. With no warning, Harry whipped around, seized Ginny around the waist and had her pinned to the bed before she could let out a gasp of surprise.
“Is driving me mad the something different you were getting at?” he asked, panting slightly into her ear. “If so, you’ve succeeded. I think I might lose my mind if I don’t fuck you right now.”
Ginny was torn slightly. Her plan had been to find a happy medium; sex was always either hard and fast or slow and gentle. However, the look in Harry’s eyes was not one she’d ever really seen before, and if she were honest, it excited her.
Apparently her smile was enough of an agreement for Harry because he wasted no time entering her. He thrust several times before pulling back and moving Ginny’s legs until her ankles rested on his shoulder. Every few thrusts, Harry would move them into a different position; some Ginny was familiar with and some that were completely new. It was exciting as they usually stuck to the tried and true three or four positions.
It was her favourite that they eventually found themselves in, however. Ginny stood facing their bed, bent over with her elbows propping her up. She could feel her orgasm approaching and met Harry on every thrust.
“Oh…oh…oh…Merlin! Oh…YES! Yes, just like…HARRY!”
She felt boneless and wanted to collapse, but forced her legs to stay standing as her husband quickened his pace and then cried out his own release.
They lay together naked and entangled on their bed for a long while, letting their skin cool. Ginny was just contemplating taking a quick shower when she felt a familiar tingling in her breasts and then the now common pull in the direction of the nursery. A moment later, Albus’ cries began and she quickly donned her dressing gown.
“Mumma! Mumma! Da! Da!” Harry sighed and pulled his own dressing gown on.
“I’ll get James. He probably needs to be cleaned up before we go to Ron and Hermione’s anyway, right?” Ginny just nodded as she left their room.
“Harry! Ginny! Do you have any cumin? Hermione is frantic for it and doesn’t want to Floo Mum!” Ron’s voice sounded from the fireplace in their kitchen and Ginny heard Harry call out something as she settled into the rocking chair in the nursery with Albus. She brushed his black hair from his forehead and settled down to nurse.
She gazed at his little face while he fed. This past year had been full of challenges. While there were still more to come, Ginny finally felt as though the worst was over. Knowing that Albus was magical was a relief, but if he never showed another instance of magic in his entire life, she’d still think he was perfect.
When Albus had finished, Ginny hurried to get ready to face the challenge of a Weasley Christmas dinner and a frantic Hermione.
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