A/N: Had a request for a hinny argument and apparently the wait between one shot collections is not going to be that long.

"I know you're the 'cool' dad," Ginny opens, dropping her coat and bag at the door, "But when Headmistress McGonagall sends a letter about one of our children, we've got to handle it."

Lily swoops her hippogriff action figure dangerously close to Harry's glasses and sighs, "Playtime over?"

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead and gestures her off to her bedroom, and the youngest Potter trots off down the hall, brushing past her mother's hip. He waits for the door to creak shut before he turns to Ginny, leaning back on his palms. "It wasn't a big deal, Gin. I'm not sending a bloody howler for a stupid prank."

Brown eyes narrowing dangerously, Ginny somehow seems to grow larger with her frustration, nostrils flaring in a dragon-like manner. "Don't make the issue something it's not, Harry - we've got to have a clear stopping place for James, especially now that he's away half the year."

"S'nothing worse than Fred and George ever did, and you seemed to enjoy that well enough," Harry bites out before he can rethink his words.

Ginny's expression shutters but she doesn't address the poor choice of words, at least not in the way she could. "I was their sister, not their mother. If we let James go too far it'll be that much harder when he's older, when it's the important things."

"If we're constantly hen pecking him about every little infraction - "

She scowls, "Bringing a half dozen suits of armor to life isn't a little infraction - in fact," Ginny eyes him thoughtfully, "How did he know how to do that?"

"I'm not that stupid, Gin."

"I never said you were stupid at all," Ginny growls, impatient as she stalks toward the kitchen.

Harry follows, sulky, and plants himself on one of the bar stools. "Was implied."

Letting out a deep sigh, Ginny pulls a few drawers open before finding the one filled with their preferred take away menus and tosses the stack toward Harry. "Pick. And no it wasn't. Stop changing the subject."

"I dunno, isn't it just nice that he's getting in trouble for non-life threatening reasons? Just for being a kid?"

Ginny tugs the refrigerator open and pulls an icy bottle of butterbeer from inside, popping it open and taking a long, healthy swig. When she turns back, her eyes have softened a bit, though her jaw is still set.

"Yes, it's good - but that doesn't make it okay to get in trouble, yeah?"

Groaning, Harry drops his head back and scrunches his eyes shut, "I'm sorry I'm such a basket case."

"You're not," Ginny chuckles softly, offering him a sip of her drink and leaning forward onto the counter, "This is your blindspot. I'm sure we'll find mine - someday."

Harry nearly snorts butterbeer through his nose. "I think yours is currently piled in the entryway, the bathroom, and," he pitches forward and sits back up with a vest strap looped over his finger, "Right here."

"You're just so much better at laundry day."

"Are you gonna let me use that one to get out of disciplining the kids?" Harry teases, taking another mouthful before passing the half empty bottle back to Ginny.

"Don't be a smart ass."