"This is ridiculous," said Harry, closing the bathroom door and kneeling down. "I'm Flooing Ron and Hermione to cancel."

"No," Ginny gasped, leaning into the toilet and retching once more. "No, really, I'll be fine in a moment. It's your birthday!"

"Come on, Ginny," Harry said, gathering her hair behind her neck.

"It's, ugh, it's your birthday," Ginny repeated, leaning down again.

"So?" Harry snapped. "You're ill."

"I'll be fine in a mo-," another wave of vomit cut her off, and Harry turned away as the bathroom echoed with the sound of sick hitting the toilet water.

Harry conjured a glass of water and handed it to his wife, who accepted it gingerly, tipping some down her throat before spitting it back into the loo.

"Please, Harry, you're the only adult I've spoken to in weeks," Ginny said desperately, collapsing against the side of the tub. "I need to get out of the house. I don't actually care very much that it's your bloody birthday. I'd go to dinner with one of Charlie's dragons if that was an option."

Harry grinned, offering her a hand and raising her up from the floor.

"Fine," he said. "We'll go, but on one condition."

"Name it," Ginny replied, reaching for her toothbrush and catching sight of herself in the mirror. She let out a small groan at her disheveled appearance.

"I want to ask your mum if she'll take James for the weekend," Harry said.

Ginny stiffened, but said nothing, so Harry pressed on.

"We can Floo him there tonight instead of her coming here to watch him, then we can go to Ron and Hermione's, and then come back here so you can get some actual rest."

Ginny paled slightly, and Harry watched her eyes narrow as she considered his offer. Ginny wasn't necessarily an overprotective parent, but the Floo did cause her a heap of anxiety, and she'd never left the baby for more than a night, even though he was nearing two.

"Alright," she finally answered. "But you have to ask my mum if she'll take him, and you have to be the one to go with him in the bloody Floo. I'm not doing it again!"

"Brilliant," Harry told her, satisfied. "You get ready, I'll speak with your mum and get James' things together."

Ginny turned back to the mirror with another small groan. Harry left the bathroom, walking through his bedroom, the hall, and finally into James' room, where his son was playing happily on the rug.

"Hello, you!" Harry cooed, sitting down cross-legged in front of the toddler. "How would you feel about spending some time with your Gran this weekend?"

"Gan!" James repeated with a happy smile, picking up a model broomstick and throwing it across the room. Harry flinched as the wood collided with the wall.

"A bit loud, James, for your old man's ears," Harry said, but he couldn't help but reach out and ruffle his sons' messy hair. Twenty-five today, Harry could hardly be considered an old man, but he couldn't help but appreciate the longevity that had allowed him to end, with finality, the war on Voldemort, reshape the Ministry of Great Britain, and make a family with Ginny.

James laughed at his father's touch, and Harry felt that sudden rush of tenderness, the one that always hit him when he looked at James, really saw him, and remembered that he and Ginny had made this little person. It seemed inconceivable that in a few short months there would be another child in this house, another reminder of the love that he and Ginny held for one another.

Molly, as Harry had suspected, was thrilled at the prospect of having a baby in the house for an entire weekend. She'd shooed Harry's head from the fireplace only moments after he had asked his question so she could get the house ready for James.

Harry retreated back to James' bedroom and got together the child's overnight bag. As he was shoving in an extra pair of pajamas, Ginny walked in, holding a piece of parchment.

"Hermione's just written; she says we can come over whenever."

"I'm nearly finished. Your mum was thrilled, by the way," Harry said.

"Hermione said she's got big news to share," Ginny mused, glancing down at the letter. "Oh, Merlin, you don't think they're having a kid as well, do you?"

"Er," Harry said. "I thought they were still waiting for Hermione to finish all her work with S.P.E.W."

"Maybe," Ginny said, tossing the letter aside. "What do you think we should do about him, though?"

Harry looked over his shoulder to see that James had fallen asleep right there on the rug, a menagerie of discarded stuffed animals strewn about him.

"This is perfect, he'll sleep right through the trip," Harry said. "Are you ready, then?"

Ginny smiled. "How do I look?"

She was still quite pale, but she'd combed through her hair and put on a paisley skirt and a navy blue sweater. The effect was feminine and simple, and Harry smiled.

"Beautiful," he said. "Shall we go?"

"We shall," she said, plucking up the nappy bag while Harry gently eased James into his arms.

Moments later, Harry stepped out of the fireplace in the sitting room of the Burrow. He waited for Ginny to appear before walking through to the kitchen, where Molly was standing in front of the sink, peeling potatoes.

"Hello, dear," she said happily, turning towards him. "Happy... oh," she lowered her voice, seeing James asleep in his father's arms. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," Harry mouthed. "I'm going to take him up."

"The cot's in Ginny's room," his mother-in-law whispered. Ginny entered the kitchen just as Harry took the first step, and he winked at her.

Harry loved being in Ginny's old bedroom. He looked around, taking a moment to feel the relentless passage of time acutely, but happy to revisit all the memories that this tiny space held for the two of them.

"I just think it's so wonderful that the two of you are taking this weekend for yourselves," Molly was saying as Harry trudged back down the stairs, James happily settled in his cot.

"Mhmm," Ginny answered noncommittally, hoisting the overnight bag onto the kitchen table and rifling through the contents.

"Are you alright, dear?" Molly said, peering into Ginny's eyes with a frank curiosity.

"I'm fine, Mum," Ginny said, pulling a stack of nappies from James' bag. "Where do you want these?"

Her mother ignored her. "It's just, you're looking a bit, well, peaky, dear, that's all."

Harry paused on the last step.

"Merlin, Mum, you're hovering," Ginny said with a huff, setting down the nappies beside the bag. "I've said I'm fine, so I'm fine."

"I'm just worried about you, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley continued. "You seem stretched so thin."

Harry tried to throw his wife a bracing look over her mother's shoulder, but she narrowed her eyes at him. They hadn't particularly planned on telling Molly about the baby tonight, though they were only a few days from the twelve week mark, afterwhich Ginny's midwives had suggested it would be appropriate to start sharing their news.

"I'm not stretched thin at all, Mum," Ginny said. "My only responsibility right now is taking care of James, and I think I'm doing a relatively decent job at it."

"Of course you are, dear," Molly replied hastily. "You're a fantastic mother, and I'm terribly proud of you, it's just…."

"It's just what, Mum?"

"It's just... I ran into Andromeda Tonks at Scrivenshaft's last Tuesday, and she was telling me that you and Harry have Teddy almost every weekend."

"So, what?" Ginny demanded.

"So… you are busy with your own child, Ginny, and boys Teddy's age are a lot of work… you seem exhausted."

"I'm not exhausted, Mum."

"Teddy is not your son, dear," Molly said suddenly. Harry stiffened in the stairwell.

"He's as good as!" Ginny shot back.

Molly had no reply.

Ginny yanked her hand away from the nappy bag and placed it on her hip. "You know, I can't believe you. You had seven children and you all but took in Harry."

"My children were older by then, and Harry had no one to look after him. Teddy has Andromeda, who can devote herself to him fully."

"We don't take Teddy on the weekends because we feel obligated, Mum. We love him, we love having him there, he adores James and keeps him busy so I can get things done around the house. If you think-"

"James is down," Harry loudly declared, stepping from the last step into the kitchen. "Ready?"

Molly cleared her throat, looking embarrassed, whereas Ginny had turned a rather startling shade of puce.

"Let's go," she said tiredly, leaning forward and giving her mother a brief hug. "Thanks, Mum."

"Of course, dear, anytime," Molly said softly.

Harry leaned forward and hugged his mother-in-law as well, and he and Ginny walked into the sitting room. He felt momentarily upset that the Floo wouldn't afford them a moment to talk about the discussion between mother and daughter. He took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. She squeezed back.

They stepped side-by-side into the fireplace.

"Brook Hollow," Harry said clearly, and they both watched the green flames erupt around them as they swirled past only a few fireplaces before being roughly deposited into Ron and Hermione's pristine sitting room.

While Harry and Ginny's house was cozy in an eccentric sort of way, with lots of shelves and mismatched armchairs scattered throughout the living area, Ron and Hermione's abode was rather reminiscent of a Muggle furniture catalogue. Everything was varying shades of beige, though Harry knew that there was an attic room painted bright orange and covered in Chudley Cannons paraphernalia. However, quite like Harry and Ginny's house, the living room did have significant storage space dedicated to Hermione's vast collection of books.

Harry and Ginny stepped out of the Floo, though Harry couldn't help but notice that Ginny looked quite queasy. He silently prayed that she would make it through dinner without any incidences of vomiting.

"Ron!" a voice called from the hall. "Ron, they've arrived."

Hermione entered the room, wearing a pretty floral dress, with a large smile plastered on her face.

"Happy birthday!" she cried, as though she hadn't just seen Harry at work that morning. Harry smiled as she rushed forward to hug him first, and then Ginny.

"Are you alright?" she asked taking in Ginny's pallid appearance.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Ginny answered forcefully, just as her brother walked in the room.

"Alright?" he said, clapping his hands together. "Happy birthday, mate."

"Thanks," Harry said. "How's the shop?"

"Oh, good, you know," Ron answered. "George keeps testing new products on me by slipping them in my lunch… other than that, can't complain."

"What'd he slip you?" Harry asked curiously as they moved into the dining room. Hermione had pulled out all the stops; a white cloth was spread across their wooden dining table, candles were lit, and there was a bottle of champagne on the table.

"Er, new Skiving Snackboxes… Diarrhea Delights… Don't ask, okay?" Ron said with a shudder. "We're 'revamping' the whole line."

"Why d'you have it so done up?" Ginny asked Hermione suspiciously, looking around the dining room.

"Oh," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. "We're celebrating, that's all!"

"Harry's birthday?" Ginny said skeptically. "Last year Ron gave him a can of lager."

"Oi!" Ron said crossly. "That was a thoughtful gift! You couldn't get that in London; they only sell it at this brewery in Inverness."

"We've got magic, Ron," Ginny huffed. "He can get any bloody beer he wants with a wave of his wand."

"We're celebrating something else, too," Hermione said hurriedly, trying to disguise the pleased little smile that had made its way across her face.

"What's going on?" Harry said.

Hermione looked at Ron, who nodded.

"Go on, tell them."

"It's quite huge news..." Hermione began.

"For Merlin's sake, come on out with it then," Ginny snapped. "Are you two having a baby, or not?"

Harry smiled. Ginny's tolerance for banter had become almost nothing in the last few weeks.

"A baby?" Hermione spluttered. "No, of course not."

"You lot know we can't have kids until all the house elves have been freed," Ron grumbled, pulling out his chair. "Sit down, you two, and Hermione can get on with it."

Harry and Ginny took their places at the table, and Harry reached down and grabbed Ginny's hand.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm sure that you've heard that Proudfoot's been looking for a new deputy?"

Harry felt his heart sink. He knew exactly Hermione's news. "Yeah, I had," he answered quietly.

"Well, I interviewed earlier this month, and I just found out I got the position! I'm moving to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in August." She beamed happily around the table, and Ron reached for the bottle of champagne.

Harry smiled, but he was sure that it didn't reach his eyes. If Hermione had gotten the Deputy Head job, that meant that Robards certainly had not, which in turn meant that Harry wouldn't be able to take over the Auror office. He glanced at Ginny, only to see that she herself was wearing a demure smile.

"Congratulations," she murmured, but her words weren't highlighted with their characteristic warmth, and Harry knew she had also put together what Hermione's news meant for their future plans.

"A toast!" Ron cried, and Harry looked to see that he had filled four flutes of champagne, and was passing them across the table. Ginny eyed hers wearily.

"Er, I can't, actually," she said.

"I thought you stopped breastfeeding months ago," Hermione said, holding her glass in midair.

"I did," Ginny said, looking suddenly as though she was going to cry. Harry squeezed her hand under the table. She didn't squeeze back this time.

"Well, then why can't you drink?"

"Actually," Harry said. "We have some news of our own. Ginny and I are having a baby in February."

There was a moment of silence.

"Oh!" Hermione cried. "Oh, that's wonderful!"

"What, another one?" Ron said at the same time, flinching suddenly. "Ouch, Hermione."

Hermione straightened in her chair, having clearly just rewarded her husband's comment with a well-placed kick in the shin. "How exciting, congratulations!"

"Thanks," Harry said, fiddling with his napkin.

Ginny gave another modest smile.

"We're so excited," she said hoarsely.

"Yeah," Ron said sarcastically. "You both seem thrilled."

Hermione leaned across the table, her face full of concern.

"Was it, er, unexpected?" she asked sincerely.

Ginny let out a little breath.

"No," she said. "It just happened faster than we thought it would, and you both know what a handful James has been lately."

"Well," Hermione said, clearly struggling to find something positive to say. "I mean, it must make you both so proud that James has such obvious magical abilities."

"Yeah, you know, when he's just sent all the food flying out of the pantry because I haven't prepared his dinner quickly enough, pride is definitely the first thing I feel."

Harry cleared his throat. "We're very pleased," he said. "And you'll be brilliant coming over to our department, really. We had just thought that Robards was a shoe-in for that job and-"

"-and you were hoping to take over in the Auror office so you wouldn't be on as many cases when the baby arrived," Hermione finished as realization crashed over her. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Harry said, feeling a rush of affection for Hermione. "You're much better suited to the job; I know Proudfoot'll have you drafting actual legislation. It's fantastic news."

"It is," Ron said happily. "And all around, too. Go on, Ginny, a sip won't be the end of the world. Let's have a toast!"

Ginny smiled slightly and held up her flute.

"To Harry, happy birthday, mate. You've exceeded your life expectancy by a good seven years! To Ginny, if this new one's another boy, he'd better be called 'Ron'! Hermione, may you empower marginalized species across Britain. And to me, for having a solid poo for the first time in weeks."

"Cheers!" the friends cried, clinking their glasses together.

Hermione went through to the kitchen and reemerged with a roast chicken that made Harry's mouth water, and soon enough they were all tucking in to a hearty meal. Harry's spirits felt much raised, but Ginny was still on the quiet side throughout their dinner. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just finished off the champagne when she spoke again.

"I've had an idea," she announced. "When Hermione takes over in August, why doesn't she just go to Proudfoot to get Robards reassigned or let go? Then Harry can have the head job anyways."

Harry and Hermione both gave dry laughs, though Hermione's eyes widened as Ginny didn't laugh along.

"Well, I can't do that, Ginny. Everyone knows Harry and I are friends… it would hardly be appropriate for me to just hand him a promotion."

"Why not?" Ginny pressed. "He's done enough for the department, and all I ever hear you three talk about is what a knobhead Robards is."

"Lay off it, Ginny," Harry murmured, turning slightly pink.

"I don't see why-"

"It's just not something I'd feel comfortable suggesting in a new position, Ginny," Hermione said, not unkindly. "I'm sure you understand."

Ginny said nothing, but looked down at her plate and suddenly speared a runaway pea with great force.

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.


Goodbye hugs had been given, leftover food wrapped up, promises to see each other again made, and Harry and Ginny tumbled out of their fireplace just as the clock struck ten. Harry trudged over to the sofa and threw himself down, stripping off his sweater and letting out a deep breath.

"Alright," he said. "I'm ready."

"Ready?" Ginny asked, brushing soot off her skirt. "For what?"

"Our row, of course."

"Our row?"

"Yeah, our row, because I'm still going to be working sixty hours a week with no end in sight and I disagreed with you about Hermione giving Robards the sack," Harry replied.

Ginny laughed. "I don't want to fight with you, you muppet. I was honestly just hoping we'd sit together for a bit and have some peace and quiet."

She plopped beside him and leaned into his chest. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder as she pulled her legs up onto the settee.

"Do you think my mum was right?" she asked Harry. "Do I seem like I can't cope?"

"No, you don't," Harry said, rubbing her arm. She leaned into his chest and let out a small yawn. "I think your mum worries about you more than your brothers because she sees a lot of herself in you."

Ginny was quiet for a moment.

"I really can't believe we're going to have another one," she said finally.

Harry smiled. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked her. Something seemed different with Ginny, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was almost as though she kept inching towards the precipice of misery, only to pull herself away from it at the last moment.

Ginny still said nothing.

"You know… you can feel happy about this baby, and still feel scared, or sad," Harry said quietly. "It's going to be hard… but you are coping, Ginny. I promise, I'll figure out some way to be here more."

"I know you will," Ginny said with a small sigh. "It's just overwhelming sometimes, that it all has to be me, you know? Not just being pregnant, but the nursing and the staying home. I wouldn't trade it for anything… but it's still hard."

Harry nodded, pressing a small kiss to her crown. The champagne, combined with the soft couch and the warm weight of Ginny pressed to him, was making him feel very sleepy indeed.

"Harry?" Ginny asked. "Why don't we take Teddy out for ice cream tomorrow and tell him about the new baby. Just the three of us, like the old days."

Harry sighed. "Fine with me," he said, closing his eyes. "Merlin, no one tells you how bloody tired you'll always be once you have a kid."

"That's about the only thing they tell you, Harry."