A/N: Thanks to WritingxOnxWalls for their appropriately named Video Game challenge on the Writing Challenges forum. Please read on for a visit down Harry's memory lane! Buckle your seatbelts, folks, your in for one scary ride…yes, I can be scary indeed…
PLEASE NOTE: I have not played Mario Party in years. I do not remember the characters, nor can I tell you how to play. Actually, I never, ever play videogames. I'm just not that kind of person. So I apologize for any mistakes!
Dedication: WritingxOnxWalls, of course!
Disclaimer: For one thing, I only WISH my hair was blonde. For another, I am thoroughly American, though to be British would be amazing. And lastly, I am not talented enough to write 7 award-winning books and actually have fan sites devoted to it. So no, I did not write Harry Potter, and therefore I do not own.
What Does This Button Do?
"And what does this button do, Harry?" Ginny wanted to know.
He smiled indulgently at her and explained its use. "It's basically the purple button, only instead of going left, you go right."
"And this button?"
Feeling a tad exasperated, he proceeded to go through all of the buttons uses again. And then he explained how to play Mario Party. Again.
Yes, the couple was playing Mario Party.
You see, it had started three months earlier, when Harry had received news that his despised uncle, Vernon Dursley, was dead.
He, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had thrown a party. But that was beside the point.
Dudley had sent word through Muggle post that he'd like to see Harry. After their odd, slightly friendly parting more than five years earlier, Harry and Dudley sent Christmas cards once and a while, told of large news in the family, and generally remained in an alright relationship.
But they hadn't seen each other. In more than five bloody years.
Petunia Dursley, Harry's mother's Muggle sister, was hysterical, and Dudley was rather sure she was going mad.
And so Harry came to number four, Privet Drive, on that warm June day, precisely as Dudley was managing to persuade his mother to go on a vacation.
As they drove away to the airport, Harry turned to his only companion—his very pregnant, very hormonal wife Ginny.
"Well, Gin-Gin. What do you say we do something in my dad's and Uncle Vernon's memories?"
"What?" she'd shrieked.
"Mario Party."
And she'd accepted it.
So the two went to the dingy cupboard that Harry used to sleep under and pulled out the ancient video game. "When I was young, I used to sneakily play this game when the Dursleys were out. I was horrible at it. Especially since I played against the game itself."
"Dad would be fascinated," Ginny pointed out dryly. Harry laughed.
Once he'd managed to hook it up the telly, Ginny heaved herself into a sitting position and grabbed a controller.
And she'd proceeded to ask, in a rather hyper voice, about every button and its meaning. Over and over and over again.
Harry finally turned on the game. "Let's just play, Gin, please!" His tone was too sharp, wasn't it?
Ginny burst into tears. He hugged her and soothed her, and a second later she was smiling cheerfully at the screen as the game proceeded to load painfully quickly.
"Which character would you like to be?" Harry asked cautiously
"Hmm…Luna, please."
"Excuse me? Luna?" Harry repeated.
"Yeah. See?" Ginny jabbed her finger at the screen. There was a blonde girl with a dreamy-looking smile on her face. Harry smiled.
"Sure, darling."
"You be Neville!" Ginny called, rather loudly.
"Umm…Neville…"
With a roll of her eyes, Ginny pointed out a boy character with Neville's dark eyes and hair. He smiled, and if Harry was not mistaken, he looked quite sheepish.
"Oh, oh, look!" Ginny shouted, very loudly this time. She waved wildly at the screen, obviously showing Harry the pale faced, pale haired boy with a pointed chin in the very center of the game.
"It's Draco," observed Harry.
There was silence. Ginny was staring, perplexed, at the Luna look-alike. Harry was twiddling his thumbs in slight annoyance.
"Ginny, love?"
"Yes?" she asked, snapping out of her trance.
"The—the, erm, game, sweetheart?"
"Oh, so now you are forcing me to play this damn game, Harry James Potter? I'M HORMONAL HERE!"
And with a roar of rage, Ginny punched a button—hard. With an odd 'f'tang!' sound, the button cap popped off the springs and rolled onto the floor next to Ginny. The silver springs bounced up threateningly, and half of the insides came out to lie on her bloated stomach.
Harry stared in horror at the broken controller. Amazement and mirth bubbled out of him, and suddenly he was laughing. Hard.
She glared at him, and then let out a cry. "What is it?" Harry demanded, solemn at once.
Dudley banged open the door at precisely that moment. "I—I—Harry, my water just broke!" Ginny shouted.
Dudley stumped into the room to the fantastic greeting of Harry having a meltdown and Ginny practically going into labor in his living room.
He proceeded to let out about a string of swears and rush to the Muggle telephone.
Harry suddenly regained his senses and sent a Patronus to Hermione, Ron, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Then he helped Ginny stand and breathe more readily.
In mere moments, he heard a pop from outside. It repeated itself four more times, and in rushed the Weasley parents, Ron, Hermione, and—most surprising of all—Fleur.
"Mungo's knows," Ron said, staring at his little sister in confusion and fear.
"Yeah, they're coming," Hermione added, flashing him a reassuring grin before rushing to force Ginny to lie down. Mrs. Weasley immediately began fussing over her, and Fleur and Hermione followed suit.
Harry, Ron, and Arthur Weasley looked at each other. Dudley burst into the room. "I called the paramedics—I think."
"What number?" Harry asked, exasperated.
"Four-one-one. Duh."
Harry looked at his cousin, and then began to laugh. "And what did you say?"
"I said, 'We've got a pregnant woman here. Send help.' And then I hung up."
Harry suppressed himself from getting hysterical. The two Weasley men simply looked confused.
Dudley evidently had just realized that Mr. Weasley was in the house. He squealed in fright and bounced as far away as he could get, even if it meant he had to practically stand next to Ginny.
It was all Harry, Ron, and Arthur could do not to laugh aloud. Dudley stood, looking uncomfortable, as Ginny groaned, Mrs. Weasley instructed, Fleur yelled in French, Hermione babbled about a book she'd read about giving birth, Ron smiled fondly at her and then jumped as Ginny let out a particularly ferocious moan, Arthur looked altogether frightened, and Harry…well, Harry was being Harry.
Which means, of course, that he was looking like he'd better do something quick, or his wife would not make it out alive.
A Healer arrived then, looking harried. Dudley looked absolutely terrified at having so many wizards and witches in one room, and scurried away to the kitchen.
Immediately, the three women crowding Ginny's side backed up to let the woman through. She led Ginny through breathing exercises and pep talks, and then she told everyone, rather calmly, that Ginny was in labor.
I'm having a kid. I'm having a kid. Harry couldn't get over it. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Ginny, who looked breathtakingly beautiful giving birth.
"Find your happy place!" warned the Healer as Ginny screamed.
My son or daughter is going to be born in my detested uncle's house, Harry thought, and it struck him as funny. He began to laugh, and it soon turned into a bellow of hilarity.
Ginny glared at him, seemingly through a haze. "Sorry, lovely…you can do this…" And he strode over to kneel next to her. He grabbed her hand. It was one of the worst mistakes he'd ever made.
That was my last bone…Harry found himself thinking a long time later. He winced in pain as Ginny squeezed his hand again.
"Harry, we are never—NEVER!—having kids again! EVER!" Ginny screamed.
The Healer told them to soothe her with good, happy thoughts.
"Don't worry, Gin, you're almost there…" Molly instructed, stroking her daughter's tangled hair.
"You can do this, Ginny!" Hermione said, trying to rally her friend up.
"Well, eef eet makes you feel any better, I 'ave been there too…I 'ave felt your pain…zat is what I conzider to be seester'ood." Fleur didn't sound very enthusiastic, though, and Ginny rolled her eyes in a calm moment.
"Go Ginny! You can win! It's just another Quidditch game…just another Bludger…C'mon! You can do this!" Ron said. Hermione sent him an approving look.
Arthur smiled at his daughter. That was all he did, but Ginny worked harder, squeezed Harry's hand harder, because of the smile.
And Harry himself? All he did was whisper in her ear, "I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley."
And then his son came out.
James Sirius Potter, born June fifteenth, two-thousand-and-two, never knew exactly where he was born.
"You weren't born in a hospital," Hermione once told him.
"You were born in a place a bit far away," Molly said.
"You're birth was hard, but it was a great experience for us all," Arthur said.
"Hermione, your grandparents, your Auntie Fleur and I all helped!" Ron always added.
"You were born thanks to lots of love, even after a falling out," Ginny and Harry taught him.
Mario Party was, consequently, the only Muggle video game he ever learned.
He hated it. He broke a controller in rage one day.
He also hated his second-cousin Dudley Dursley. Old feelings die hard, don't they?
Dudley never really changed all that much. He never let slip that one the couch that was re-upholstered after that day, the one that James loved the most, was the one he was born on.
In his will, Dudley Dursley left James Sirius Potter that couch, in hopes that he'd one day know the truth.