23 August 2024
"James Sirius Potter!" Ginny cried from the foot of the stairs. "It's nearly twelve o'clock, young man! Get down here for breakfast, or you'll be sorry!"
Ginny distinctly heard her twenty-year-old son groan loudly, followed by a pronounced thud, as he finally dragged himself out of his bedclothes and towards the staircase. Yawning hugely, he whisked a hand through his already disheveled hair—to make it messier, Ginny noted, with a roll of her eyes—as he trudged slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen, at last. Despite having moved into a flat in Diagon Alley together, two summers previous, James and his cousin, Freddie, had an irritatingly endearing habit of dropping by their parents' houses for dinner and crashing in their old bedrooms.
"Good morning, Jamie," eighteen-year-old Albus greeted his brother brightly from his seat at the kitchen counter, where he was busying himself with a bowl of cornflakes.
James merely grunted in response. Ginny rolled her eyes again, reminded inexplicably of Ron.
Humming to himself, Albus climbed out of his seat and walked around the kitchen counter to find a spoon, and James—embodying laziness, as only he could—decided to liberate this lapse in Albus's vigilance as an opportunity to steal his younger brother's cornflakes.
Ginny turned away to conceal her smirk, as Albus began searching fruitlessly for the cornflakes that he had just wasted two minutes of his life getting ready.
"Mum!" Albus complained plaintively. "James stole my cornflakes! I just wasted two minutes of my life pouring myself that cereal!"
Ginny gritted her teeth to suppress her laughter.
"James," she admonished, as sternly as she could muster, without turning around. "Give your brother his cereal back."
James heaved an loud, exaggerated sigh of frustration (honestly, how hard was it to pour cereal into a bowl?) and scampered off to fetch himself some breakfast.
Just then, Harry wandered into the kitchen, looking exceptionally smart in new robes.
"Why so dressed up?" Ginny inquired, coming around the counter and leaning up to kiss her husband's cheek.
"Law Enforcement meeting," Harry told her, sitting down next to Albus and glancing around. "Where's Lils?"
"Sleepover with Roxy," Ginny explained simply, as she poured a bowl of cornflakes for her husband.
Meanwhile, James had finally managed to produce a bowl of cereal for himself, and he proceeded to take a seat on Harry's other side. The men in her family looked extraordinarily alike, mused Ginny, as she pulled a spoon out of a nearby drawer and handed it to her husband. Her eyes swept over the three identical tangles of black hair before her. She shook her head, withdrew a small, silver comb from within her robes, and began attempting—in vain—to flatten her husband's hair.
"It's not going to work," Harry, Albus, and James chimed in unison, and Ginny sighed, relenting.
Suddenly, there was a loud tapping at the window. Ginny jumped and looked around. Romulus, Teddy's gray screech owl, was pecking frantically at the glass.
She exchanged an alarmed look with Harry. Hurriedly, she approached the window and wrenched it open, allowing the little bird to swoop in, perch itself on the windowsill, and dutifully extend its foot. With trembling hands, Ginny began to fumble with the letter. Romulus hooted impatiently.
Finally, Harry himself strode forward and unfastened the letter from owl's leg. Swallowing heavily, Ginny set a glass of water on the counter for Romulus to drink and watched Harry's expression carefully, as he ripped open the envelope and quickly scanned the letter. Slowly, a beaming smile began to spread across his face. Positively grinning, he handed the letter to Ginny.
Teddy's handwriting was so uncharacteristically shaky that it was hard to read:
Victoire went into labor. Merlin, help me!
We look forward to seeing you at St. Mungo's.
—Teddy
"Hurry up, boys, we have to get going," Ginny addressed James and Albus, ushering Romulus out the window and latching it. "I'll see you later, sweetheart," she added happily to Harry, who had begun bustling around the kitchen, getting ready to depart for his meeting. "Do drop by the hospital when you can."
"I will," Harry assured her, and with a quick smile and faint pop, he disapparated.
"Where're we going?" Albus demanded, as Ginny snatched up her purse.
"St. Mungo's. Victoire's having the baby."
"But we're still in pajamas!" James exclaimed in indignation, indicating himself and Albus.
"Well, you should've gotten ready earlier, then, boys," she said sharply, frowning at her sons. "Besides, no one's going to care."
James grumbled, muttering mutinously under his breath, as he hauled himself out of his seat.
When they reached the Maribel Monrova Maternity Ward in St. Mungo's, a few moments later, half of the family had already arrived. Her mother, her father, and Andromeda were chatting contentedly in in the middle of the room; they had each been to the maternity ward so very many times in the past several decades that Ginny was surprised that St. Mungo's hadn't dedicated a segment of the ward to them. The three of them looked very excited, indeed, and Ginny remembered that, in a matter of hours, they would become great-grandparents.
On the other end of the ward, Bill was pacing frantically outside the door to Victoire's hospital room, and Charlie—who had arrived from Romania the previous weekend—was trying to pacify him.
Meanwhile, James and Albus had fallen into chairs beside Lily, Roxanne, and Freddie. Freddie, James, and Albus, it appeared, had already begun to doze off. Ginny shook her head in disbelief.
She decided to accompany her brothers outside the door. "Hi, boys."
"Hey, Gin," Charlie greeted her warmly, flinging his arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. Even Bill stopped pacing long enough to shoot her a strained smile.
Then, Bill resumed his pacing, and Ginny snorted. "Bill, for Merlin's sake!" He glanced at her. "Fleur's done this three times! You shouldn't be so worried!"
Bill sighed heavily. "But it's not Fleur—it's Victoire," he lamented. "She's a child, Ginny."
"She's twenty-four, Bill," Ginny reminded gently. "She's older than Fleur was."
Bill stiffened.
Then— "Merlin's beard," he said softly, eyes widening in wonder. "She's twenty-four."
Ginny grinned. Over her brother's shoulder, she caught a glimpse of her own children. Lily's head was resting on James's lap, and Albus was leaning against his brother's shoulder. She blinked. She could see so much of herself, and of Harry, in each of them. It had been twenty years since she'd had James…eighteen years since Albus…sixteen since Lily…
She thought inexplicably of years, long since passed, of bedtime stories and play-pretend…of Hogwarts letters and wand-shopping…of birthday parties at the Burrow, shrieking laughter, nappy changes, late-night feedings…of days when she could gather each of them in her arms and kiss away their tears and fears…
Then, she turned back to Bill, who was now leaning back against the wall, tapping his foot nervously against the linoleum floor. And quite suddenly, Ginny was overwhelmed with emotion. Swallowing heavily, she strode forward and embraced him. Bill froze in surprise for a fraction of a second…but then, slowly, he drew his arms around her and hugged her back, just as tightly.
Three hours later, the door to the ward swung open, and a white-faced, but positively jubilant Teddy Lupin stepped out, holding a small bundle of blue blankets in his arms. His eyes shone with a familiar kind of dazed happiness that Ginny herself could only associate with one thing: her children. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bill's jaw drop.
"Teddy, he's incredible," Ginny whispered hoarsely, squeezing Bill's shoulder tightly. Underneath the fluff of blue blankets, she could just make out a tiny pink face, with big, brilliant silvery blue eyes and a peachfuzz tuft of mousy, brown hair. The corners of Ginny's eyes began to sting.
The entire family collectively rose from their seats and began crowding around, craning their necks for a better look. "What's his name?" James called from where he was standing with Albus and Lily, grinning.
Teddy looked up and caught James's eye with a smile.
"Remus," he said quietly. "Remus Harry Lupin."
Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth and let out a strangled cry of happiness, blinking back tears. She beamed at Teddy, who smiled back at her, his jaw clenching slightly. Then, very, very gently, Ginny reached out and brushed Remus's tiny fist, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
Five little fingertips closed around her thumb.
Author's Note:
WELCOME TO MY FIRST STORY!
So, I recently learned that a lot of people don't like Ginny, and I really just can't understand it! I know her character is really awkward/flavorless in the films, but she's a certified B.A. in the books!
In any case, you've got to admit, she's one hell of a mother. :)
Ari