Bitter Taste

By

Snuffles4Eva

Relationship: Godparent

Prompts:

(Word) Spree

(Word) Colourful

(Phrase) Laughter is the best medicine

A Potter.

Aren't I burdened enough? Now, I'm not complaining, but I have an expected baby daughter of my own, an over-protective mother, a pregnant, slightly over-bearing – but still lovely - wife, the whole Voldemort and leaving thing hanging over my head, and now they have to add another.

And its name is Potter.

Curse that smug, arrogant swine with his snarky little smile, and his arm around my little sister.

Because now I've got a godson.

And it's a Potter.

I know, I know. I should be happy for them. Deep down, I truly am. But I can't really get over the fact that it's his child. Harry Potter. My best mate!

He, well, he, er, well, I don't even want to think of what he's done with my sister. I like to believe that a nice fluffy white stalk came along and in dropped little James Sirius, right into the arms of my waiting sister. I know it's childish (Hermione never fails to remind me), but that's what I like to believe, and nobody challenges me on it.

Well, a few people do. But most just raise an eyebrow, and pretend to excuse themselves, if that topic of conversation does ever arise.

I remember the first time my family heard my theory...

'I'm, er, I'm' stuttered Ginny, as she stood up from the dinner table. I looked on sceptically. She was taking a long time about it, and we hadn't yet started pudding. Tuning out, I watched as spirals of precious heat energy escaped the waiting dessert. It looked delicious. Then something hard hit me in the stomach.

'Ron!' hissed a little voice in my ear 'your sister is making a very special announcement. I suggest you listen' The voice sounded suspiciously like Hermione. Reaching for my glass of water and taking a sip, I zoned back in.

'Pregnant' I spat the water all over George, opposite.

Mum leapt up from the table and bustled round to hug Ginny. I could see all my brothers and sister-in-laws getting up to shake Harry's hand and hug Ginny. I knew that my turn would come, but I couldn't seem to move. That was, until Hermione dragged me onto my feet. Mechanically I moved to my feet and gave Ginny an awkward hug, shaking Harry's hand coolly, before all the men were shooed out of the kitchen.

There was an awkward silence, before a loud cry from George.

'Finally knocked her up, then Potter!' he hollered from his end of the living room. Laughter broke out through the room, as Harry turned a deep shade of crimson. I watched my brothers' faces, subdued. How could they be so cool with it all? Knowing what He did to her, made me want to shudder. My innocent sister. Innocent no longer.

I think I knew that, subconsciously, I was over-reacting. But I didn't care at that moment in time.

'Aww, look at little Ronniekins' the living remnant of the terrible twosome spoke out. I figured my face must be tinged with pink 'He's gone all red!'

'I refuse to believe you, er, you You-Know-What-ed with Ginny' I said, stubbornly. Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow. He had apparently forgotten his embarrassment 'I would rather think of a fluffy white stalk, who dropped the little bugg- er delightful child straight into the waiting arms of my baby sister' I finished firmly.

'Your baby sister?' Harry questioned.

'Yes. She is my baby sister, and is perfectly innocent. She has not been cavorting with the likes of you'

'The likes of me? What is that supposed to mean?' Harry's voice hardened.

'I've heard about you Potters. Ladies blokes, all of ya'

'I'm the only Potter left?' his words were bitter.

'I have my information'

'Like what?'

'I was your best friend for years, the first person you met on the Hogwarts express. I should know.'

'You should know, but you don't'

'Oh, I know you. You're Harry bloody Potter. You could have anyone, and yet you picked my baby sister'

'Because I fell in love with her! And she is not your Baby Sister!' He finished, shouting, his chest heaving. I suddenly became hyper-aware of the other presences in the room. My brothers and father, with their shocked looks; Hermione, standing in the doorway with that practised half-disappointed-half-angry look; and Ginny. My little sister. The look on her face tore me in two. It wasn't anger or disappointment, like Hermione's or shocked, like my brothers', but broken. She seemed torn up over our argument. Glancing around the room, I felt the palpable tension in the awkward atmosphere. Suddenly my mind started screaming 'Get out of there, idiot' and I stormed towards the door, straight up the stairs to my old room. Lying on the bed, I closed my eyes. What an idiot I was.

A gentle knock sounded at the door. Knowing it was Ginny, I grunted. She would walk in whatever the answer.

I was correct. A long mane of Weasley-red hair emerged first, followed by the rest of Ginny. Including her pregnant stomach.

'Hey soldier' came the familiar voice I had known for almost 30 years. She sounded tired. I said so.

'It's just this whole pregnant thing – more of a burden than a blessing. I wake up at weird hours wanting to pee, then wake up in the mornings and revisiting last night's dinner. Yeah, it's really not fun.' She lay down next to me on my old bed.

'He is taking care of you, right?'

'Who?' she genuinely didn't appear to know.

'Harry' I answered curtly. She began to laugh.

'It's not funny!' I began to get irritated.

'Of course he is, Ron. You know Harry' she said gently, her voice softening like it always did when she was talking about someone she loved dearly.

'I know' I said, beginning to feel a little guilty. There was a brief gap in the conversation. I studied the ceiling, with its familiar cracks and crevices, before Ginny spoke up again.

'It gives me a good excuse to go on a shopping spree, though'

'Spree?'

'Yes, spree. A period, spell, or bout of indulgence as to pander to a certain craving or whim. Since I'm Pregnant, I get to do whatever my hormones tell me to do'

'And they're telling you to spend unnecessary Gallons?'

'Yep'

'Looks like a dieting spree would be better suited, Preggers'

'Hey! I'm pregnant, not fat!'

'Sure...' I trailed off. She elbowed me in the stomach. Hard.

'Bloody Hell!' I shouted.

'Ronald! Watch your language!'

'What?' I started to get defensive again.

'I will not have you spurting that colourful language around my child' She said firmly, reminding me of Mum.

'Colourful language? What like bloody f-'

'Ronald Weasley!' now Hermione's admonishing voice entered the conversation. I looked to see my wife – of 5 months – standing in the doorway. I did my best sheepish face.

'Ronald, we're going home' and with that, Hermione flounced downstairs. Ginny gave me a pitying look. 'Good luck' she whispered, kissing me on the cheek, and slipping out the door.

Gulping, I got off the bed. It was gonna be one heck of a journey home.

So now, 2 years on, I'm sat on the carpet in my front room, playing with an 18 month old James Sirius. He is cute, really. I reckon that's Ginny coming out in him.

The youngster in front of me has Harry's trademark messy black hair, with Ginny's chocolate eyes, a sense of humour to rival George's and the tendency to tantrum like Ginny used to.

The best thing about this kid, I've found, is his laugh. The way his little mouth curves upwards into a cheeky smile, his cheeks with two cute little dimples, and how his eyes dance, the way Ginny's do. Then a cheeky gurgle comes out of his smiling mouth and he looks so darned adorable that you just wanna pick him up and cuddle him.

Trust me. I'm a mid-30s, cynical ginger guy. I'm tough to break, but this kid's laugh just shatters me. It makes you want to pick him up and take him home. I would, but I think Ginny would kill me.

I think that's what did it for me, really. The kids' laugh that is. I was a bit sceptical when Ginny first laid him in my arms, telling me I was his godfather. Hermione gave me that look, and I tried to get to know my little godson, offering to babysit whenever. It's difficult, as he is almost the spitting image of Harry, and it feels… wrong, somehow.

But then, earlier, he laughed. It made me laugh, and, looking into his joy filled eyes, I knew that we would get along.

After all, they do say, laughter is the best medicine.