Twenty-Seven
A/N: Holy shit look, another update! Believe me, I'm as surprised as you. I'm just grateful that there are still people willing to read this story. I can't believe that this story is already half-completed. Then I'll have to think of something else to neglect writing.
-:-
July 31, 2007
He's thrown into consciousness abruptly when a heavy weight lands on his stomach. His eyes fly open, and his visual intake is filled to capacity with a fly-away black curls and impish brown eyes. James's small hands are bunched in the blanket, and his laughter rings through the room.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Dad-dy, happy birthday to you!" His well-wishers break off and clap, all of them except for Ginny, whose hands are occupied with a fussing Lily.
"Happy birthday, Uncle Harry," says Teddy from where he's perched at the edge of Harry and Ginny's bed. His hair is electric blue and his eyes are Evans green. He's wearing a black shirt with the insignia of Holyhead Harpies, courtesy of being Ginny Potter's adopted godson. Harry used to take Teddy to all of Ginny's games before she retired, and to this day he claims to want to be a professional Quidditch player someday like his Aunt.
Harry smiles at his ten-year old godson, but his attention is quickly refocused to the almost-three year-old. His oldest son, currently in the process of breaking all of Harry's ribs, leans forward until they're almost nose-to-nose then proceeds to yell, "Happy birthday, Daddy!" directly in his face.
Harry sits up sharply, causing James to squeal as he's sent tumbling backwards onto the bed. Albus burbles happily from Teddy's lap. At fifteen months old, Albus doesn't talk much. Conversely, James talk a lot more than the average almost-three year-old, so when Albus does choose to speak, he's usually talked over by his older brother. And Lily, at nearly ten weeks old, seems to enjoy screaming over everyone in the house. The girl has a set of lungs in her.
Ginny, having finally settled their daughter more comfortably in her arms, bends down carefully to press a kiss to her husband's lips. "We've decided to make you breakfast for your birthday," she tells him after she straightens back up, "so get up and come downstairs." She then herds their boys out of the room and closes the bedroom door, shooting him a wink as she does so.
With a grin, Harry rolls over and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Quickly grabbing his glasses from the bedside table beside him, he wandlessly summons a clean t-shirt into his free hand. He pulls it over his head that sets his glasses on bridge of his nose and heads for the door.
When he gets downstairs, the kitchen is an utter mess. There are eggshells on the floor by the waste bin and small floury handprints covering the counter. Ginny has her wand in her hand as she mutters cleaning charms, and the dishes in the sink are being washed by an invisible hand. "Need another wand-waver?" He asks her.
She shakes her head at him. "Not today Harry, it's your birthday. You're breakfast is at the table. Go eat. I'll be there in a moment."
Deciding not to argue with his stubborn wife, he obeys, but not before Banishing the eggshells behind her back. At the table, James is painstakingly making a mess with the maple syrup as he attempts to drown his pancakes while Teddy watches with amusement in his eyes. Wondering why in Merlin's name Ginny thought it would be a good idea to let him do it himself, Harry quickly grabs the bottle from his son and hands him his fork instead. "I think that's enough, Jamie. You get enough sugar in you without having a maple syrup overdose." James pouts but mercifully doesn't argue.
Albus, though quiet, is surprisingly self-sufficient and can handle feeding himself so long as someone cuts up his food into manageable bites he can skewer on his fork. Once, during an argument between Harry and Ginny about his job, no one had been watching Albus and he had dropped his fork. He had gotten so frustrated with not being able to get his food that he had managed to levitate his food bites directly to his mouth in a shocking show of accidental magic. Harry and Ginny had both been so proud and delighted that they stopped arguing.
Lily, sitting in her high chair, watches her father and brothers eat with seemingly unrivaled fascination. When she isn't screaming or crying, Lily has a remarkable focus on the world around her, and she enjoys watching people the most. Ron finds it creepy. Harry thinks Ron acts like a baby about it.
Ginny drops into the seat beside him and pulls a plate of pancakes towards her. He places his hand on her lower thigh habitually and passes her the syrup. "Thanks, Love," she murmurs.
Teddy says, "These pancakes are good, Aunt Ginny," and Harry agrees. Ginny smiles at them both fondly.
Albus drops his fork and Harry picks it up and passes a quick sterilizing charm over it before handing it back. James throws a handful of soggy pancakes at his sister, and Lily screams until Ginny manages to clean the sticky food off of her face. Ginny shakes her head at her kids and says something about how in Merlin's name did Mum manage with seven of us and scolds Jamie until he's nearly in (fake) tears. Lily pulls Albus's hair. Albus lets her. Teddy wisely doesn't get involved in the chaos.
Harry just sits back and watches his family and feels a wave of peace settle within his chest. I can't risk losing this, he thinks with sudden clarity. He understands now why Ginny always says he needs to have a safer and more secure job. Being an Auror is great yeah, but dangerous. There's a large chance you'll die in the field or worse, end up like Mad-Eye.
He looks at his wife. We can talk it through later. I'm sure Kingsley wouldn't hesitate on giving me a desk job. He does owe me.
He doesn't want to leave his kids without a father. He doesn't want to leave his wife a widow. They need him more than the Auror Department. He needs them more than his job.
He loves them more than his job.
He'll talk to Kingsley tomorrow.
-:-
A/N: A very fluffy, domestic chapter.
-HF