Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It all belongs to the queen of literature, J.K. Rowling. All hail J.K. Rowling. *bows down before tower of HP books*

Author's Note: Hey guys. So this has been sitting on my computer for a while now, and I figured that I ought to finish it and post it for you guys. Warning, I wrote this before I had much practice writing, so there may be more errors and things like that because of it. Please drop a review when you're done, they really mean a lot. :)

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The entire Weasley family including the Potters and Teddy, Harry's godson, were all hanging out in the Burrow. Everybody was now celebrating the announcement of Hermione's second pregnancy. They already had little Rose who was 3 years old, and they were now going to have another child. Hermione and Ron were ecstatic, along with everybody else, especially Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh! I'm going to have another grandchild!" Molly had exclaimed. She was one of those people who enjoys a house full of people. Not surprising though, considering that she once had seven children in the house at once. Now that her children had moved out and married though, she took much enjoyment from her grandchildren, which had all flooded into the kitchen at the applause and congratulations. They had all been in the living room playing while the adults talked, but now Teddy, Victoire, Fred, Roxanne, James, Rose, Louis, and Albus were bustling about and asking their parents what all the excitement was about. Mostly, all the fathers were hushing their children, telling them what had happened, and telling them they could go play. Bill was being bombarded with questions by his daughter, Victoire, and Harry was tackled by his godson, Teddy. Even though he wasn't a blood relative of the Weasley's / Potter's he was basically Harry's son and even called Harry 'dad' and Ginny 'mum'. However, being the eldest, meant he was always around young children and new infants and he had actually grown to enjoy them.

However, what with Harry being busy with Teddy, and Ginny and the rest of the women hugging and gushing over Hermione someone was feeling left out. And that someone . . . was James Sirius. Harry's eldest son. Albus Severus was too young too understand what had happened and so he, Louis, and Rose had toddled back into the living room (Teddy followed them shortly afterward in order to supervise them).

All at once, however, James had had enough. He wasn't being noticed by his parents or his aunts and uncles. He had tried going to Uncle Bill or Uncle George, but they were busy with their own children. He turned to his father, who was now congratulating his brother-in-law and best friend, Uncle Ron. Nobody was paying attention though and that made James mad.

He got angry and yelled, "Daddy! Mummy! Please tell me what's going on?"

"James, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione are going to have another baby, James." Harry said. It was only after he had responded that Harry noticed everybody in the kitchen had gone silent, even the children. He looked around, staring at his friends and family, who were staring back at him and James.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, confusedly. Ron, being the closest to Harry ever since they were kids, found his voice first.

"Mate," he began, "you were – you were speaking Parseltongue again."

Harry gaped, astonished. He was positive that when he had, well, died, destroying the piece of Voldemort's soul within him, the ability of speaking Parseltongue had been staunched, along with the ability, or curse, of seeing into Voldemort's mind. However, he had heard rumors that Parseltongue was hereditary, but the defeat of Voldemort had happened many years before Harry and Ginny had had James. But if this was true, if it was true that James and, once again, Harry could speak Parseltongue, this was a very odd turn in Harry's life.

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"Mate, you were – you were speaking Parseltongue," Ron said, quietly. Harry immediately turned to James and then to Ginny. He was not particularly concerned, as he knew that Voldemort was dead, and yes, maybe he still thought about him and sometimes wondered if Voldemort could return, but he knew those were just thoughts and 'what if' questions.

"James, I - do you know what just happened?" Harry asked his 4 year old son, looking at him intently.

"I asked you what was happening and you said Uncle Ron and Aunt 'Mione were having a baby, and then everything got really quiet." James whispered the last part, as though wanting to keep it secret. Harry wasn't that surprised at what his son had just said. It was the exact same situation many years ago in his, Ron's, and Hermione's second year at Hogwarts. He stared at Ron and Hermione, as they were the two who had always been with him and knew about his Parseltongue. Everybody was staring at Harry and James. James apparently felt funny having all the attention in the room to himself, and hugged his dad's leg, hiding his face. Harry looked to Bill who understood and shuffled his daughter and wife into the living room, everybody else following him. Ginny stayed with him as he quickly motioned for Hermione and Ron to remain in the kitchen as well. James, who was still glued to his father's side, looked up and asked his father, "What's wrong, Daddy?"

"Nothing, Jamie. I – we just want to talk to you real quick. Will that be okay?" James nodded and Harry ruffled his hair. The four adults and James moved forward and sat down in a few of the chairs surrounding the enlarged table. Hermione was the first to speak, as always.

"Harry, what happened? I thought that when you – you – ," Hermione stammered. Nobody particularly enjoyed talking about the subject of Harry's death. "Well, you know what I mean. But I thought for sure that you weren't able to speak Parseltongue anymore after that."

"I didn't either, Hermione." Harry stated simply. "I thought for sure that it was gone just like my dreams and visions of Voldemort." Harry sighed and continued. "I have heard rumors though that Parseltongue might be hereditary, but even if James had inherited it somehow, that doesn't explain why I should suddenly have it again." They all looked to Hermione. She always seemed to have an answer, but this was one of those rare occasions where she didn't have one. Ginny did though.

"Well," she began, "I have a theory." The the Golden Trio turned to face her, James eating a leftover roll left from lunch. "What if, when James started speaking it, you – like – remembered how to speak it?" She turned to Hermione, "Do you think that that might be possible?" she asked her. Hermione looked thoughtful.

"That's a good possibility. I mean, logically, you would be able to remember how to speak it, so if jump-started maybe you could remember how to speak it."

After their conversation had ended, the adults realized that James was no longer in the kitchen with them. He had become bored with the conversation and wandered back into the living room in order to play with his cousins. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny walked in to find all the adults sending wary looks James' way. The children were all playing silently together, apparently mirroring the silence of their parents, although they had been whispering quietly among themselves. As they appeared, Lily stood up and ran to her father.

"Daddy, what's wrong with James? Why is everybody staring at him? Did Jamie do something wrong?" The questions exploded out of her small body, and a grin tugged at the corners of Harry's mouth. Lily had always been the empathetic and knowing one.

"Nothing, sweetheart. You keep playing with your brothers and your cousins, alright?"

"Okay, Daddy" said Lily, resolutely and she sat back down with her fellows were congregated. Harry turned away from the children and looked at his fellow adults. Everybody was staring at him with the same wary looks, they had been giving James. Arthur was the first one to speak.

"Harry," he began, "what was that? Was it . . . was it what I think it was?" Harry nodded then sighed.

"Yeah," he started, "I don't entirely know how but somehow James inherited the Parseltongue and somehow, I have it again." He continued at the looks of bewilderment upon their faces. "I haven't been able to speak it for ages though."

"What do you mean? How can you lose the ability to speak a language?" Bill asked, perplexed. Harry looked at Ginny and his two best friends. The four of them were the only ones who knew the full story about his being a horcrux. He had told the others about destroying the horcruxes and, of course, they already knew about the defeat of Voldemort. But should they know the full story?

Harry decided they should. He had been part of this family ever since he was 11. To continue lying to them about this would deny all the love he had for his family. The four of them then sat down on the nearby sofa and Harry took a deep breath, Hermione ushering the children outside.

"Well," he began, speaking to the room at large. "you know how Ron, Hermione, and I went hunting for horcruxes right before the battle?" He halted, looking around the room, guilt shining in his eyes. He still felt as if Fred's death was his fault, and although he know that nobody blamed him for his death, not even George, that did not help his guilt. The Weasleys nodded.

"Well, right before I finally defeated Voldemort, I went to the Forbidden Forest." There were many intakes of breath around the room, and Mrs. Weasley let out a gasp. Everybody still remembered that sinister voice in their heads, Voldemort's voice, ordering them to hand over Harry Potter in the forest or else die.

Harry continued, "I went because I – I was a horcrux. I needed to die and he – he had to be the one to do it." He shuddered slightly and Ginny, sitting next to him, slid her hand into his. Everybody was silent for about thirty seconds, then George spoke.

"Harry, what do you mean that you were a horcrux?"

"Okay, so a horcrux harbors a piece of one's soul and," Harry was beginning to regret this and swallowed, "and the night he killed my parents, his soul split again, and part of it latched onto the only living thing still there." There was no need to name the host of Voldemort's soul, everybody could tell by the look on Harry's face that it had been him.

Harry cleared his throat. "Anyway, the piece of Voldemort's soul that made me a horcrux, also gave me some of his abilities. That's how I could speak Parseltongue and – and see into his mind." He lifted his head and looked at Arthur, who was remembering the same thing he was. The night he had been attacked by Voldemort's snake, Nagini.

"Well," began Hermione, waking everybody up from their reverie, "Ginny has a theory as to how Harry and James are, once again, speaking it." Everybody looked at Ginny, curious to know what she thought.

"Okay, well, Parseltongue is known to be hereditary and, although Harry had already lost the ability when James was born, it was still deep inside him. That comes in now, if Harry had always been able to speak it, if it was never totally gone, then James' speaking it acted as a sort of jump-start device." Everybody looked admiringly at her, particularly Ron.

"It was Ginny's theory," Hermione said, embarrassed at the attention she was receiving.

"Well, I guess Parseltongue is a thing again," Ron said, breaking the silence.

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Author's Note II: Terrible ending? I know, I know, I didn't like it either, but I was tired of the story sitting on the computer unfinished. Please don't hate me! Please review! :) You know you want to! :)