Disclaimer: Again, none of these characters are mine. I feel the need to put this at the top of every installment? Don't judge me. A/N: I know I'm updating pretty regularly right now, but that's because I'm sitting on quite a bit of dad!Harry and papa!Weasley (why Harry is Dad and Ron is Papa, I'll never know) and am ready to get it here and out of my thousands of notebooks. These aren't in any sort of chronological order, either; they're all just jumbled around and can pretty well stand alone. I also think that both Harry & Ginny and Ron & Hermione incorporated Muggle elements into their everyday life. I hope you enjoy!
"Just me and you today, buddy."
Harry handed his son a few cheerios and the giggling, chubby boy crammed them into his mouth. He then extended his slobbery hand to his dad, hitting it on the white surface, beckoning for more. Harry set the bowl on the table of the highchair for James' convenience and the child, a snaggle-tooth grin alighting his face, stuck his pudgy fingers into the bowl and dumped the soggy contents onto the floor, howling with laughter.
"Well, guess we're done with that," Harry grimaced, pulling James from the highchair. James stuck his slimy hands into his father's hair and smeared milk and baby slobber residue over the side of his face. Harry squeezed his eyes and tried to smile at his son. "Wanna play? And stop touching my face, maybe?"
The toddler babbles something Harry couldn't understand, which he took for an agreement. He set the boy on the floor and James raced off, his wobbly legs unsteady beneath him. He ran to the CD shelf and began pulling cases down, throwing them onto the ground with loud clacks. Groaning, Harry trotted over and bodily picked up James, positioning him away from the shelf, and started putting back the CDs. He was barely started when he heard a loud crash and a screech from behind him.
He spun around to see the boy toddling off toward the bedrooms, chasing the cat. He had pulled over the lamp somehow, and now it laid askew on the floor, the shade bent at an awkward angle. "James!" he yelled, hearing the unmistakable yelp of a cat who's had his tail pulled.
-xxxxx-
The apartment was demolished. There were toy cars, clothes, bathroom supplies, and baby powder strung about the room. The television was on static, a VCR tape was sitting undone by the end table, and there was a soggy trail of carpet and cheerios from the kitchen to the living room. Exactly three sippy cups were on the visible floor, and two spoons and the remote control had been lost underneath the couch. The cat was on top of the refrigerator, hissing violently. Harry's glasses had broken twice. James had three band aids and only one injury, a skinned chin from falling against the corner of the bathroom counter.
Harry was sitting on the floor, his arms folded over a blue, plastic laundry hamper. His head was on his forearm; he was exhausted.
"Daddy funny!" a voice screamed gleefully from underneath the hamper. "Daddy, out! Out!"
"No," he said tonelessly, not raising his head. "Daddy is tired. Daddy needs to clean, before Mummy gets home. Daddy is keeping you under the basket so Tweety doesn't eat you."
"Teety! Maow. Maow."
"Yes, Tweety says 'meow'. Now can you stay under there?" He stood up and looked around at the disaster area that was once his living room. He glanced down and saw the hamper gliding across the carpet. He put a foot on it and heard James whimper something that sounded uncannily like 'no go for Jamesie', then he scanned the room for something heavy to replace his foot.
A Complete and Un-Abridged History of Magic, Edition Seven.
He made a mental note to thank Hermione later for the large volume of unread book. His foot still keeping the basket stationary, he stretched and grabbed the book from the arm of the couch and placed it on the basket. "There we are. You're two. That ought to keep you put for a few minutes while I clean up a bit."
He paused for a moment, again taking in the chaos, and then walked into the kitchen. He poured himself a handful of dry cheerios and, striding back into the room, proceeded to poke the cheerios through the openings in the plastic.
"Chichis!" James shouted, picking them off the floor of his makeshift cell. "Mo chichis!"
Harry rose from the chattering hamper and had his wand out, prepared to try a cleaning spell or two before ultimately using his hands and a sponge, when he heard the doorknob turn.
"Hey! How's my two-" Ginny froze in the doorway, her mouth agape. The sunlight poured in behind her, illuminating her blazing hair and heavily pregnant shape. "What—the—bloody-"
"Mummy! Mummymummymummy!" The hamper rocked back and forth, the book bouncing and the pages fluttering.
Harry grinned sheepishly and held up his hands in defeat as James pressed himself against the side of the basket, trying to peek out of the holes.
"My house. It's—it's—I'm going to have to move. It's beyond redeemable." Ginny gazed around the room, aghast. "And my son is underneath a clothes hamper."
There was an awkward silence filled only by James' unintelligible words.
"Okay. I'm—I'm going back out now."
"Gin, no!" Harry yelped, leaping forward and catching the door before it shut. "You've got to help me!"
Reluctantly, she walked back inside and closed the door behind her. Her tan trench coat crinkled loudly as she covered her eyes, a pained expression on her lips. "Why is my son in a laundry basket?"
"He wouldn't stop moving. And I had to clean. Preferably before you came home, but, you know."
"Why is he naked from the waist down?"
"Nak—wait, is-," Harry turned to the basket and, sure enough, James was naked save a red jumper. "Oh, right. I changed him, after a bath, you know, had baby powder in his hair, he was a right proper mess, and...well, he took off before I could put a diaper on him."
"Why didn't you catch him and then put one on?"
"Couldn't."
"How did you put him in a laundry prison, then?"
"Oh, that. I just, uh, sort of, well, you know-" He made a large motion with his hands not unlike a pantomime of Whack-A-Mole with a bucket for a mallet, "Captured him. I fed him cheerios, he's fine."
"If he pees on my carpet, so help me, Merlin, I will strangle you." She pulled her hand down her face and yanked her wand from her coat. "Go. Take care of him. I'll clean up."
"Ginny Potter, you are an absolute saint," Harry exclaimed. He moved forward and made to kiss her, but she pulled away angrily and began waving her wand about.
He lifted the hamper and snatched the toddler up. He carried him to the bedroom, the naked boy jabbering away lively, and thought maybe the next one would (hopefully) be less of a handful.
