Ginny often lamented on the fact that she had agreed to name Harry Potter's son James Sirius. It showed poor foresight on her part. The child had already had the genes for causing trouble, and naming him after the embodiment of trouble was just plain unwise.
For awhile, when James was still rather young and unable to do much more than eat, sleep, and cry, Ginny had prayed that the troublemaking genes had passed him by. For awhile, it seemed like James would become a sweet little child with a docile personality.
Then Albus came along.
Ginny and Harry hadn't planned for a second child so soon, but once he came along, Ginny was sure that she couldn't have asked for a more well-behaved child. There were no worries with Al. The problem lay with James.
James was very interested in the newest addition to the family. He liked to see how Al would react to certain things. He liked to test the limits; to see how far he could go without getting in trouble with his mum.
He poked Al. He sat on Al. He bit Al. The list was retained to child-like play. Unfortunately, James soon decided he needed to go onto bigger and better things. He discovered his magic.
It was small magic at first: turning Albus purple, putting Al's favorite toys on the highest bookcase, lowering the bars of Al's crib so the two could "play" together when it was supposed to be naptime.
It was when James turned Albus invisible that Ginny started to get worried. It was pretty clear that those troublemaking genes hadn't passed by after all.
"You drugged me, didn't you?" Ginny remarked to Harry one evening.
Harry glanced at her, looking perplexed. "Er, what?"
"That's it! I knew it! I knew it wasn't of my own free will!"
"Ginny, what in the name of Merlin's purple pants are you on about?" Harry asked.
"James Sirius!" was all Ginny said.
Harry dropped his book onto the table. "Yes, that's the name of our son…Ginny, are you feeling alright?"
"Why, did you drug me again?" Ginny asked petulantly.
"Why would I drug you?"
"I don't know, you're the one who did it."
"I've never drugged you! Why would I have any motive to do that?"
Ginny glared at him. "Keep up, dear. For such a 'brilliant mind', you're having a lot of trouble following this conversation."
"You're speaking in bloody cryptic messages!" Harry retorted defensively.
"I am not!" Ginny snapped. "Try to follow me: You wanted to name our son James Sirius, correct?"
"Yes."
"The two biggest troublemakers in history."
"Yes."
"But you knew that I wouldn't agree due to above statement."
"What?"
"Keep up, Harry!" Ginny said irritably. "Continuing on: You needed some brilliant idea that could not only land you a son named James Sirius, but also get it past me."
"That's mental."
"So you drugged me—"
"This is possibly the strangest conversation I've ever had."
"—and named our son James Sirius!"
Harry stared at Ginny bemusedly. "Right. You stick with that theory. I have theories of my own, though."
"Like what?"
"That someone did drug you and now you're completely mad."
Ginny scowled. "Most men would use flattery right about now to avoid a night on the couch."
They never did resolve that argument. But the basis of that controversy remained the same. James was trouble.
More than that, he developed his parent's love for flying.
That combined with his daredevil personality was enough to give any parent a heart attack.
-:-:-:-
"Daddy. Daddy!"
Harry groaned and cracked one eye open. "James?"
"You said you'd teach me to fly on a broom."
"Not at 6:43 in the morning!"
James frowned and stared at the digital clock on the nightstand, trying to process the numbers with his five year old mind. Apparently, he couldn't find anything wrong with them, because after a few seconds of intense concentration, James said, "Why?"
"It's too early, James."
"Six forty-three," James whispered to himself thoughtfully. Then he pouted and disappeared from Harry's line of vision. Harry closed his eyes and tried to slip back to unconsciousness.
Suddenly, Harry heard something that made his heart plummet.
"Mummy?"
Bloody hell. This wasn't good.
"Mummy!"
"What—James!" came Ginny's scratchy voice.
Oh, bloody hell. She was awake.
"Daddy said he'd teach me to fly a broom."
"Okay…?"
"He won't get up."
Harry cringed as he felt Ginny's glare on him.
Here's the thing with Ginny: she liked her sleep. She used to sleep until ten thirty to eleven before they had kids. Even after the demanding job of motherhood started up and cut back her sleeping hours, she slept until nine every day. If you woke her up before nine—well, Merlin be with you.
"Harry?" Ginny asked dangerously.
"Er, yes?"
"Get out and help your son. Now."
And if her subtle threat wasn't enough, she prodded him with her cold toes until he rolled onto the floor, much to the delight of James.
"Hurry!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Harry grumbled, pulling on some clothes. On the bed, Ginny was already asleep again.
-:-:-:-
"James, don't even think about kicking off yet."
James smiled up at his father with an impish grin. It was the kind of grin that made you check your pocket for your wallet and hide all sharp/flammable/potentially dangerous objects.
Harry got on the broom behind his son and locked him between his arms as he reached around his small body to grasp the front of the broom.
"Don't try anything up there, James. If you do, you'll have to deal with Mummy when we get back down."
Though he looked the proper amount of fearful about the prospect of an upset Ginny, James was bored of the chit-chat and ready to fly, rules be damned. "Go!" he shouted, taking it upon himself to kick off. His father just wasn't moving fast enough for his liking.
Father and son rose to twenty feet, then thirty. James screamed in delight, locking his small hands around Harry's large, callused ones.
"James," Harry said. "You shouldn't have kicked off until we were ready."
"I was ready," James said, with the certainty of a five-year-old.
Harry rolled his eyes as James reached out and touched the leaf of a tree they were passing over.
They stayed in the air for a couple hours, working on changing directions, stopping, turning, and even a bit of diving. At 9:27, James was already steering the broom by himself and pulling out of dives and sharp turns like a professional.
"Daddy, I want to fly by myself," James said, after landing on the ground, albeit clumsily.
"You're sure?"
"Yes!"
"One hundred percent positive?"
"Yes, Daddy!"
"And you're sure—"
James scowled, annoyed with the games, and simply took off.
"James!" Harry groaned.
"Giving you trouble?" Ginny asked from behind him, startling him.
She had donned a pink bathrobe, slippers, and was cradling a steaming mug of tea. Her eyes were fixed on the swooping dot that was their son. "He's going to be the death of me, I'm sure."
"You and me both. Are Al and Lily still asleep?" Harry asked, stealing her tea and taking a deep drink. He hadn't noticed the chilly March air until the tea spread feeling and warmth into his previously numb limbs.
"Both asleep. And give me back my tea!" She whacked his arm, causing him to chuckle.
"Stop! Gin—you're going to make me choke!" Harry handed over her mug. "Honestly, I was just trying to see if I was going to die in the near future."
"You haven't done your Divination homework for years, Harry, I'm sure Trelawney won't mind waiting a bit longer…"
Harry laughed and wrapped an arm around his wife, who dropped her head onto his shoulder. "This seems like an ideal time to ask…forgive me?"
"I might possibly consider…and mind you, this is the ittiest, bittiest chance possible, the epitome of tiniest chances—But I might forgive you if you get your son out of the tree."
Harry's eyes widened disbelievingly before his face split into a huge grin. "Oh, yes! I've made you crack! Finally!" Harry paused to finish her tea before running over to a towering oak tree to rescue their son.
Ginny looked scandalized as she stared disbelievingly into her mug. "You prat! You finished my tea! Just for that, I'm revoking my offer! There, not feeling so good now, are you? Really, what good are husbands?"
A/N: Honestly? I have noooo idea where this came from. But I was looking at the category I had placed this in, and I saw I had put it under Romance/Humor…I think…anyway, this story has been really dark and angsty, hasn't it? I needed something a little lighter. A lot of you thought the story was ending last chapter, but never fear! Ginny's holding out…I predict two, maybe three more chapters…anyway review!