Cindered Carols
"We are not naming him Albus Severus!" Ginny scowled and continued cutting onions for the jambalaya they would be eating for dinner that night. There was an old witch's tale that spicy Cajun food induced labor, and now that Harry and Ginny's unnamed second child was still in Ginny's belly a whole week past his due date, she was dying to get the little bruiser out. "Think of all the kids at school! He'll be teased."
"It's a fine name!" Harry growled. "What else are we going to call him?"
"Daddy!" James called from the ground, pulling on the leg of Harry's pants. Harry picked up the toddler and hugged him close. The two had formed an unbreakable connection during Ginny's second pregnancy. He had become the primary parent in the past nine months while Ginny was busy with doctor's appointments, nursery color schemes, and other baby drama. But he loved spending time with James, and he also loved to not have to decide which kind of nappy would be softest.
"I've already suggested plenty of names," Ginny retorted, putting her hand on the hip of her dangerously large belly. "I think John Arthur Potter is a fine name: short and simple and most importantly, he's not likely to be teased with a name like John Arthur."
"First, the name John has no meaning to it, and second—" Harry was cut off by Ginny. He'd never been able to talk over her, especially when she was this pregnant and angry with him.
"John was Remus's middle name!" Ginny pointed out harshly.
"Well fine, but—"
"We are not going to name him after Snape!" Ginny cried. "Neither us even liked the man when he was alive."
"Fine but—Wait I did! —"
"Maybe I'd consider Albus as a middle name, but as a first name…" Ginny stopped talking, and tears started spilling down her cheeks.
"Oh, Gin," Harry said, immediately cooling down. He put James back on the ground gently and went over to his wife. He felt guilty. They hadn't meant to get pregnant again. They had certainly wanted more kids, but not as many as Ginny's parents, and they certainly hadn't wanted another baby so soon. After all, James was only one and a half. And the pregnancy itself had been difficult. He'd always been told that the second child would be more difficult than the first, but he hadn't really believed it until everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Now they had reached and passed the home stretch, and Ginny and Harry were told to sit tight; their little no-name would come when he was ready. Seven days later, he still wasn't ready.
Harry reached for Ginny and intertwined his fingers in hers, which were resting on the counter. She pulled her hand free and continued stirring the large pan of jambalaya. Without looking at him, Ginny took a step away and wiped her eyes on a hand towel hanging on the edge of the sink.
"It's just the onions. I'm fine." Ginny sniffled, though her voice was shaking. Harry knew she had every reason to cry, and he wasn't making the situation any better.
Harry tried again, going in for a hug, and this time Ginny let him. He squeezed her close, or as close as he could without crushing the enormous bump between them and said, "We can name him John Arthur if you really want."
Ginny wiped her face on her sleeve and looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "Oh God, I've been a horrible wife these past nine months, haven't I?"
"No," Harry said. If they were being honest, he was the one who had been at work far to often, and home far to little, and never around when she needed him, and nowhere to be found when James said his first words. "I've been a terrible husband. I shouldn't have gotten you pregnant again so soon."
Ginny rolled her eyes and smiled. "It wasn't entirely your fault. I was there too, remember?"
"Oh yeah," Harry said, closing his eyes and remembering the night nine months ago. It had been the four-times-postponed wedding of Ron and Hermione. There had been plenty of drinking that night, mostly due to the fact that everyone thought either Ron or Hermione would chicken out again. But they hadn't, and so everyone drank a little more than they needed to that night. And maybe weren't as careful as they should have been. Apparently Ron and Hermione weren't as careful as they should have been either. Their first baby was due in a couple of weeks.
"You know what? Why don't you go and rest? You definitely deserve a break after all of this," Harry said. She looked like she needed a good nap too. The bags under Ginny's eyes were dark and renounced. Her posture was more slouched and tired. And even her movements were slower and more lethargic than she normally was. "I can cook this, then I'll put James to bed. Then I can wake you up in the middle of the night, and we can hope that this," he gestured to the jambalaya, "finally makes the little bugger come out."
He loosened the spatula from Ginny's fingers. She kissed him slowly, and he twirled her around once before she walked out of the kitchen.
"Okay James," Harry said picking up his son again. "This magical dinner Mummy made is going to bring you a new brother."
James stared up at him with his bright brown eyes that reminded Harry so much of Ginny's. "What do you suggest we name him?"
James smiled. Then began clapping and screamed, "Poopy!" exercising the new word that Teddy had taught him. Harry made a mental note to give Teddy a haranguing for that one.
"You want to name your brother Poopy?" Harry asked. If Ginny kept bashing down his name ideas, Poopy might be the only name left for the poor kid. James smiled and laughed his infectious toddler laugh that Harry couldn't help but smile at.
From the living room, he heard the noise of the piano. Ginny's Auntie Muriel's piano was the only thing the Potters received when Muriel finally passed, but what a lovely thing it was. At the touch of Ginny's magical fingers, the instrument produced the most mellifluous music Harry had ever heard. Although he was a little biased—Dudley's trombone lessons were not the greatest of sounds. Ginny was always drawn to the piano when she was stressed.
Ginny was playing a Christmas song, "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas." Harry had almost forgotten that Christmas was only days away. With everything at work, being promoted to Head Auror, trying to be helpful around the house, and taking care of James with everything that Ginny had been through, he had almost forgotten about his favorite holiday. They hadn't even found time to put up the tree yet. It would only be James's second Christmas.
Harry looked outside. Instead of a winter snow, a somber, spirit-crushing rain was pouring out.
"Are you excited for Christmas, James?" Harry said trying to regain possession of his glasses, which James had wiped off of his face. James attempted to put the glasses on his face, and Harry had to admit, the boy looked remarkably like him. He wondered if the new baby would look more like him or Ginny. He suspected Ginny. She seemed to be closer to him than Harry was, and not just because she was his mother. Harry had always been closer to James and Ginny to the new baby. It was just how things went. Harry wondered what would happen when they had a third, then reprimanded himself. More children were out of the question for at least ten years after this baby.
"Through the years, we all will be together, if the Fates allow…" Harry sang only slightly off-key, twirling with James in the center of the stuffy kitchen. James giggled again and Harry tousled his jet-black hair. Suddenly the music stopped.
"Harry?" Ginny's voice floated through the house urgently.
"Yes?" Harry said setting James down lightly on the tiles of the kitchen floor. He knew that voice. He knew what was coming next. He had been through this once before. Somehow the experience didn't make him any less nervous the second time around.
A/N: I know it's seven months early, but I just couldn't resist putting up this story. I also know that you are going to reprimand me because I posted this before I finished my other stories, but I just couldn't help myself. I hope you enjoyed it. In total, it'll only be, like, three chapters so not that long. Please leave a review if you want. I like to know your opinions.
Sammie