Further warnings: A bit of Fudge, anyone? Oh, and Draco in a sheath skirt… Heh heh heh.
Sympathetic Magic: Part Nine - Seventh Year - Term Three
Ron smiled at the picture his spouse made. Cheeks flushed with sleep, dark hair mussed, hands curled up near his chin, and slow even breaths all showed Harry was completely relaxed and dead sexy. He was curled on his side, one head on a cushion, his long legs tucked up in the crochet throw that had been draped over the back of the couch. Ron recognised his grandmother's work, as he had in the curtains that were draped at each window, the rag rugs in the downstairs kitchen, dining room and laundry, and the handsome sets of plain bed linen and curtains on the four-poster bed upstairs. Both his grandfathers had made items of furniture throughout the house - handiwork was something that the whole Weasley family was known for, in his Dad it came out in the tinkering with Muggle artefacts - and the various tables, chairs, stools and beds had clearly been made by his grandparents. His brothers and sisters had gone in together to buy them the couch that Harry was currently asleep on - an overstuffed monstrosity that must have been a nightmare to move - as well as the matching armchairs and twin couch that occupied the front room. If Ginny hadn't decided at the last minute to visit with one of her friends instead of 'slaving in her brothers garden', Ron would have thanked her for the gift.
He didn't care about the furniture, though christening their bed that first night and each night after had been extremely rewarding. What he cared about was that Harry's face finally showed signs of good health. Hermione came in to see where they were and lingered next to him, smiling down at the innocent sleeper.
"He looks so…" she trailed off and sniffed a little, heading back out through the libraries French doors to the front garden and the bed they were laying today. Ron frowned and headed after her, leaving the door open so the warm breeze could brush through the room. Neville was still inside the house somewhere, so Ron caught her arm and tugged her around to look her in the eye.
"What's wrong?" he asked, bewildered by the sad expression he saw lingering there. Hermione glanced at the open doors that were airing the house after it had been shut for a term. Ron tugged her over to sit under the birch tree where he and Harry had camped only last summer.
"Tell me," he insisted once they were settled, "Harry's not sick, Hermione, so why are you so upset?"
"It's… he's so fragile," Hermione sighed and Ron snorted without thinking. His Harry, fragile? Harry was the strongest, stubbornest, sexiest survivor Ron knew.
"He's not," Ron shook his head, "He's had a rough time the last two years - he lost the last of his family, and had a pretty big surprise dumped on his shoulders. Sure, he's killed Tom Riddle and the strain of it all, coupled with being withchild dragged him down for a while, but Hermy, think for a minute. If it was you, or me, or Nev, would we have survived?"
"Probably not," she admitted reluctantly, and he nodded, rubbing her arm gently. He could feel her relaxing a little and shifted so he was hugging her with one arm. He hadn't realised, in his worry for Harry before they knew exactly what was going on, that the rest of their friends were just as worried.
"Ok, so it's two in the afternoon and he's kipping on the couch," he grinned at the memory, "But there's colour in his cheeks, he's in no pain or discomfort, and when he gets up he'll be as energetic as ever."
Hermione nodded and leaned into the hug. Neville came out the front door and spotted them, chuckling and saying 'oh ho!' lightly. Hermione shook her head and got up, going to kiss the teasing Neville on the cheek and grabbing her gardening gloves from the wheelbarrow. Ron grinned and followed them, wanting to get the front garden finished today.
They'd arrived at the house early on Saturday and Neville had arranged with a nursery to deliver their plants on the following Monday. Harry and Ron had spent the time exploring the house with their guests, just as curious as their friends were. They hadn't seen the furniture that the family had given them for wedding presents, and Ron had been very impressed with how well the various styles had mixed and matched. The colours were everything from muted greens to vibrant yellow, with every shade between. The handmade items made Potters Field feel a little like the Burrow; they spoke of family, care and comfort.
Ron had taken Neville and Hermione in turns to the village on the bike to collect the gardening implements they needed and food for the house. The three of them had ganged up on Harry to make him lie down in the library with a book, and the green-eyed man had gone to sleep fairly quickly. Madam Pomfrey had warned all three of them that Harry would get drowsy and tired, partly from the pregnancy, partly from the potions that she insisted he take daily. The three of them had sort of made an agreement without words that Harry would nap and rest as much as possible.
On Sunday they'd attacked the garden, digging up the weeds and marking out the beds under Neville's exacting instructions. They'd snuck out that night to use magic to clear the beds properly and start the compost pile that Neville insisted they have for the vegetables. Neville had selected a mixture of Muggle and Wizard plants to be companion planted. The plants would almost tend to the needs of each other, the by-products of one plant nurturing the other. Herbs and flowers of various sorts, all very useful in cooking and potions making, would take up the front garden, with the climbing roses encouraged each night to grow a little faster over the bare walls of the house, as well as the box hedge along the stone wall at the front. The fragrance would be wonderful in spring and summer. They also had a lot of cuttings to grow in the conservatory during the winter so they could replant each spring. Harry had set up the conservatory according to Neville's strict instructions while the others did the heavy work. He wasn't allowed to lift anything except with magic, and potting the seedlings was work he could do sitting on a tall stool. Ron both appreciated, and approved heartily of Neville's dictatorial decisions there.
"Ron!" Neville called, "Are you awake?"
"Yeah, sorry Nev," Ron replied, shaking loose from his thoughts and grabbing for the wheelbarrow for the next load of fertilizer - a mixture of dragon dung and blood and bone. He knew he had a stupid grin on his face, but didn't care. He was happy, Harry was healthy, they were going to be parents and they had the rest of their lives ahead of them. Who could blame him?
0oo0oo0
Harry could hear his spouse and his friends laughing lightly, the sound of tools and effort floating through the open French doors. He was warm and comfortable, and feeling faintly guilty that he'd spent the afternoon asleep on the couch, yet at the same time it was such a luxury to know that for the first time outside of Hogwarts he was home and safe, that the guilt had no chance to develop into anything more than a faint feeling. He knew that his friends had been worried, and had decided to give in to their demands of him easily, for now. He wouldn't be coddled at school, no matter what Ron thought.
He stirred and stretched lazily, sitting up slowly and tugging the throw off his legs, standing up with a yawn to tuck it back over the couch. The wool was warm and had been a comforting weight on his legs during his nap, and he made a mental note to thank Grandmother the moment he saw her. She had been a fierce eyed woman, whose gaze had swept him from head to toe at the Weasley's New Year gathering, before folding him into a surprisingly tender embrace and kissing his cheek. She'd held his hand and called him child all night, and even the twins hadn't dared tease him about it. Molly's mother was as formidable as she was, and Harry could see flashes of her in Ron. Harry hadn't told his partner that - he liked his balls where they were, thank you - and was looking forward to seeing it develop with their own children.
A glance at the clock above the mantle - a Muggle one from the Grangers, the Wizard one from Remus was downstairs in the kitchen - showed that it would be teatime soon. They'd had sandwiches at dinner, and it would only be fair that he cooked them a decent meal for tea. Besides, he'd been itching to try some new recipes ever since he'd found the kitchen well stocked, with a shelf built for his ever-growing collection of recipe books.
Harry smiled involuntarily at the sight of his kitchen, feeling ridiculously pleased that he had somewhere to practice a new skill that didn't involve hurting or protecting anyone. His wand was on the shelf with the recipes and he picked it up absently, pulling down the first book and flicking through it. He reached over and flicked on the small stereo that he and Ron had bought last summer, tuning it with one hand when it squealed with static.
Twenty minutes later he'd planned the menu and was chopping salad vegetables while eggs and potatoes boiled in separate saucepans and four steaks sizzled slowly in a pan. The oven was warming and Harry was watching the ingredients of the cake stirring themselves in the bowl beside him. A wave of his wand set the table and put the salad bowl in place with a sealing charm on it to keep the contents fresh.
He prepared the cake tin - this was a Muggle recipe and the weighing of ingredients had reminded him somewhat of the preparations for potions, in fact he'd used a scale similar to the one they used in potions - and poured the mixture in, licking a batter covered finger absently as he spun the tin to get the air bubbles to settle. The cake went in the oven and the potatoes were tested quickly before he started making the icing while the sink started washing up under his direction, leaving him to clean the counters so they were gleaming again and humming along to the Muggle radio station that he'd settled on.
Once the potatoes were done he roughly chopped them and added them to a bowl with the chopped eggs, a handful of herbs and flicked his wand to produce the sour cream dressing he needed. He mixed the potato salad magically, sealed it and placed it on the table; heading upstairs when he heard Ron and the others come in.
"Hey there!" Ron was covered in dirt; sun kissed and smelt of dragon dung. Harry grinned at him affectionately and stepped back when Ron stepped forward for a hug. His spouse pouted blatantly while Hermione and Neville headed upstairs to clean up.
"You're filthy!" Harry warned him off, "Go wash up."
"Typical, you just married me for my gardening skills," Ron sighed heavily and Harry laughed. Ron was not known for his high marks in Herbology - like Harry, he was a fair student, but not brilliant like Neville.
"I can assure you, I didn't," he said sincerely, "Now go wash up. Tea will be ready by the time you get done, and there's cake for pudding."
"You cooked?" Ron grinned very happily, his stomach growling. It was Harry's turn to pout, folding his arms over his chest. Ron's growth spurts still hadn't stopped, though he was as tall as his father now and still so slender and sexy. It wouldn't do for his partner to know just what libidinous and dirty thoughts were running through his mind right now, though he'd be sure to share them once their guests had gone to bed.
"You only married me for my cooking skills," he mocked, and Ron snorted, stole a quick kiss and ran up the stairs, his reply floating over his shoulder as he did, making Harry laugh in genuine amusement for the lie.
"You bet!"
0oo0oo0
"Well helloooo lover," Ron purred as Harry's fingers teased him awake, "Feeling frisky dear?"
"Mmhmm," Harry's mouth engulfed him and Ron moaned, his bones turning to jelly. An hour later they woke again, a good deal more sticky. Ron kissed his spouse tenderly and stroked the be-whiskered jaw with loving fingers.
"You're the best thing in my life," Ron told him, "I'm lucky to have you."
Harry's eyes widened and he hid in Ron's neck for a moment, the back of his neck flushing red. Ron wondered what had made him say such a spectacularly sappy thing to his partner and stroked over warm skin idly until Harry had it back together again. Ron tried not to overwhelm Harry with protestations of love and loyalty, not wanting to smother him in attention. He preferred to woo his spouse gently, showing how he felt with the little things in life. Given that Harry had been affection starved for most of his life, too much attention made him uneasy, and Ron didn't ever want to make him feel stifled.
"Of course," Ron salvaged the moment as best he could, "I'd be even luckier if you were going to make those pancakes again."
Harry snorted into his shoulder and sat up, rumpled and sticky, slapping Ron's chest lightly. He was glowing this morning, and Ron grinned up at him, frankly admiring in his gaze. He sighed and hauled himself out of the bed, knowing that if he kept looking he'd want to start touching, and that would lead to fondling and sucking and nibbling and other things that would lead to them being late. This was their first time as hosts in their own home and they both wanted to be good to their guests.
They shared the bathroom, trading off on shaving and showering, heading downstairs before their guests got up, to make breakfast together. They were planning to work on the raised beds around the rear courtyard today, planting the flowering groundcover and roses that Neville had told them would be best. Their friend had a definite look in mind for their garden, and Ron was planning to make sure that there were plenty of before, during, and after photos for Neville to display in his curriculum vitae. Their friend had mentioned that Professor Sprout was encouraging him to try for a job in the Royal Gardens next year - there were several greenhouses that were devoted to Wizarding plants and Neville had been very enthused about it all.
Hermione appeared just as the first pancakes hit the plates, and Ron listened as Harry teased her about her timing while he buttered toast. The Muggle radio was on, and Harry danced her to her seat, placing a plate in front of her as Neville came down the stairs. There was a hoot at the open half door and Ron turned as Neville gestured to it.
"That's not Hedwig," their friend frowned and Ron watched Harry go to take the message from the owl. It hooted and flew away before the dark haired man could offer it water or an owl treat. Harry read the outside of the message, broke the seal and walked back into the kitchen while he read, not too worried about the contents. He frowned and sighed, handing the letter to Ron while starting the next lot of pancakes.
"Aunt Petunia is awake," Harry told their guests while Ron read through the letter, "St Mungo's wants me to come down and talk to her."
"You should go straight after breakfast," Hermione said from the table, "Neville and I will clean up the dishes."
"Perhaps you should take the day off," Ron glanced at Neville, "Relax, maybe go into the village for a look around. It doesn't seem right to ask you to keep working on the garden when we're not here."
"I don't mind," Neville smiled at them, "But if you want a day off, Hermione we could probably find something to do."
"Sure," Hermione nodded easily and Ron stopped the comment on the tip of his tongue just in time. Not everyone was as sex obsessed as he was right now. From the knowing glance Harry shot him, his little near slip hadn't gone unnoticed.
"We should be back by tea," Harry turned away from the stove, depositing a stack of pancakes on Neville's plate and waving his wandless hand to send the plate to the table. Hermione shook her head and muttered something about 'show offs', and Ron grinned at his spouse. They were both becoming a lot more proficient in the kitchen, though Harry was the acknowledged master chef of their marriage. Ron took the toast to the table and came back to steal a light kiss and a quick cuddle. The day had started well, and he was hoping it would finish well too.
0oo0oo0
Harry stepped away from the Apparation point and waited for Ron to arrive, looking around the lobby of St Mungo's for any sign of Dudley. He spotted his cousin standing in the line for the receptionist, Professor Sinistra beside him. Their Astronomy Professor had continued to collect Dudley once a week for his visits to his mother, and Harry had thanked her on numerous occasions for it. He'd been planning to take over the duty for her, but she had refused the offer, stating that she didn't mind the journey and Dudley was perfectly polite to her.
His cousin had continued to lose the enormous amount of excess weight that he'd once carried, and had slimmed down to a carefully sculpted body that spoke of much effort in the gymnasium and a rigid training schedule. Harry knew that he continued to box, as Professor Sinistra had told him about Dudley entering in a school championship, and the physique his cousin was now sporting was undoubtedly a testament to his continued sporting prowess. Ron had insisted that they go back upstairs and change into Wizarding clothes before heading to the hospital, ensuring that Harry's slightly swollen waistline was carefully hidden in billowing fabric.
Harry could see his spouse's point - they didn't want either of the Muggles to lose their grip at the sight of a slightly withchild Harry. He really didn't want to have to explain the whole thing to either of them, it would be hard enough to explain his marriage should they notice the wedding bands. Harry had flat out refused to hide his wedding band again, and had forbidden Ron to hide his either. The Wizarding world had accepted their marriage, and his cousin and aunt weren't likely to notice.
"Hello, Dudley," Harry greeted his cousin politely, "You're looking well."
"So are you," Dudley stared at him in astonishment while Ron made polite small talk with their teacher. Harry heard his friend offer to take Dudley back to school after his visit was finished, and she agreed with a little persuasion that they could manage the transfer without any strain to the bond or Harry. Harry wondered what Dudley was seeing, his brief glance in the mirror before they left had showed that his robes were in place and done up properly.
"Thanks," Harry turned to the Witch behind the counter with a smile and asked after his Aunt. She blinked in recognition, looked for his partner, then smiled and gave him directions easily, reaching out to touch his hand where it rested on the counter. He smiled back, thanked her politely and led Dudley in the right direction, Ron moving to his other side.
"Was she flirting with you?" Ron asked in amusement, and Harry shook his head.
"No, just very happy to see me," he sighed, "And she kept peering past Dudley to look at you, so shut it."
"What's going on?" Dudley asked tersely. Evidently he had picked up on the Witches attitude, but wasn't up to date with the current events, "Is that… evil Wizard after you again?"
"Harry and I killed him a few months ago and his followers are being rounded up as we speak," Ron butted in, before Harry could, "He won't be bothering you or your mother ever again, Mr Dursley."
"Oh," Dudley looked at him, a little horrified by the blunt recital and Harry elbowed Ron in retaliation. He didn't need his only living relatives thinking he was a cold-blooded murderer. They were climbing the stairs to the third floor, and he glanced over his shoulder at Dudley as he walked.
"It was him or us," Harry told his cousin firmly, "And quite frankly I'm glad it was him, so can it the both of you."
"Yes dear," Ron's chastised reply had Harry laughing, unable to maintain any kind of anger with his partner when he was in such a playful mood.
On the third floor, the Sister at the desk led them to Aunt Petunia, who was sitting up, her eyes fastened on the door. She held her bony arms out to her son and Dudley rushed to them, engulfing his mother in his hug. Harry hung back, leaning into Ron's body when his partner snuck his arms around from behind. Ron hummed under his breath and rocked them a little. Harry was content to rest in his partner's arms, safe and wanted. He'd deal with Aunt Petunia and her son as gently as he could. They had raised him - grudgingly it was true - and he owed it to them to see that they were comfortable in their new lives. Vernon Dursley's death would have a huge impact on their lives, and it behoved him not to add to that burden.
0oo0oo0
Ron sighed as the front door closed behind Dudley and turned to Harry with a smile. Smeltings was totally unlike Hogwarts - built as it was in a Manor house with immaculately kept lawns and gardens. The shrubs and hedges had all been trimmed into artistic shapes, and there were Muggle curtains and blinds hanging in the windows.
"Weird sort of place," Ron chuckled and Harry rolled his eyes, leading the way back along the driveway. It had been a long day and not a lot of fun for his partner as he'd helped his Aunts come to terms with her loss, told her what the Wizards had told Aunt Marge about terrorist attacks and how Dudley had been managing his fathers estate for her. The Healers were going to release her to a Muggle convalescence home in a few days time, one that was close to Smeltings so her son could visit her regularly. Ron doubted that she'd taken in most of what was said, and had monitored Harry closely throughout the day. He had him sitting for most of the day, and fetched and carried with a will for all three so Harry wouldn't have to.
"We're in the clear to go home now," Ron said once the school was hidden behind some very tall trees, and Harry sighed, turning to face him. Ron moved to take him in his arms, and was pleased when Harry snuggled in. He rocked them both a little and felt Harry's lips relax into a smile against the side of his neck.
"Do we have time to visit your mum and dad first?" Harry's soft voice was clearly audible to Ron and he nodded and kissed the dark head nestled in his neck. His mum would be very pleased to see her withchild son-in-law. She'd been threatening to come to the house and take Harry away for a day, but a short visit now would placate her. He let go with a sigh and kissed Harry on the lips for good measure before Disapparating.
Molly was in her garden, looking over the vegetable patch with a careful eye. She whirled when they arrived and beamed at them, hurrying over to hug them both.
"Harry, you're glowing," she complimented Ron's spouse and Harry blushed. Ron laughed at him and followed his mother into the kitchen, starting the kettle for a cup tea while she fussed over Harry and patted her grandchildren. It was a total mind spin to Ron that his mother was about to become a grandmother, a change that was coming about because of him.
Harry was leaning into her side, soaking up the attention for a change while he told her about his Aunt and cousin. Ron kept quiet, glad that his partner was choosing to open up to his mother-in-law. Molly was listening carefully, nodding and frankly cuddling Harry close. His partner hadn't had much maternal affection in his life - Lily Potter had loved him for only a year before she was taken from him, and her sister had frankly failed her duty - so the cuddles were soothing to Harry right now. Ron knew his friend was feeling a little more vulnerable at the moment due to his status as withchild. Harry had confided late one night that he was worried he'd be a bad parent. The Dursley's had provided him with a very clear outline of what not to do, and when Ron had pointed out Harry's devotion to the younger students at the school his partner had calmed down a little.
"You're staying to tea, of course," Ron's mother told him when he put a teacup and the pot in front of her. Harry shook his head, sitting up a little and folding his arms.
"We promised Hermione and Neville we'd be back for tea," Harry sighed and Ron winked at his mother before she could work up a protest.
"Well, you stay here, and I'll go back to them," Ron suggested, "You can show mum how much your cooking has progressed over the hols, and I'll take the others out for tea or something."
"Are you sure?" Harry hesitated and Ron grinned in relief. His mother added her voice to his, urging Harry to stay for a while longer. Harry gave in eventually, and Ron finished his cup of tea off, standing and kissing his mother goodbye before leaning over his spouse. They broke for air and Harry sighed, leaning his temple against Ron's.
"If you decide to spend the night that will be fine," Ron whispered and Harry nodded. He had the feeling that his partner would probably go to sleep under Molly's caring influence, and didn't want Harry trying to Apparate home while still tired.
"I'll send Flynn if he's staying," Molly spoke up and they walked Ron outside. He hugged them both one last time and Apparated, arriving in the kitchen of the house. A shout ascertained that there wasn't anyone home and Ron headed upstairs to get changed. Dressed in comfortable clothes, he headed out to do a bit of maintenance on the bike, taking it for a run into the village to fill the tank.
Neville and Hermione were waiting when he got home, and readily agreed to Apparating to Diagon Alley for a meal. Harry was the best chef they had, and a little possessive of his kitchen. Ron was glad to see it, to him it was a sign that Harry was truly happy in their house, and settling into their life together. His spouse would return from the Burrow feeling a bit better, and they'd have this last week of the hols to finish getting their garden in order before returning to Hogwarts. This last term would be a busy one, and Ron was glad that he'd have the house waiting to bring Harry back to.
0oo0oo0
"It's almost a disappointment not to be teaching this term," Ron muttered as they settled into their seats, waiting for Professor Binns. Harry grinned in agreement, and Ron sighed, pulling his books out and settling in. The Easter idyll at Potters Field was over, and they were 'back in the real world' as Neville had sighed upon returning to the school. That might have had something to do with a scowling Snape watching them from the teacher's table as they filed into the Great Hall.
"We'll need the extra study time," Harry reminded him and Ron nodded. Teaching had been a lot of fun, even if it was a huge responsibility. He was nervous about meeting Madam Hooch at dinner, because she'd have taught his second years by then, and assessed their progress. Harry's fingers stroked over the back of his and Ron smiled as the ghost glided through the blackboard.
The Professor's lecture style hadn't changed at all since the last time Ron had been in his class, and he sighed, making a few brief notes of the key dates and trying not to doze off. Harry's hand crept onto his thigh, warm and heavy and comfortable. They'd had to make some emergency adjustments to his spouse's uniform this morning as the swelling across the once flat belly had grown over the holidays. Dobby had seemed to sense their consternation, as the elf had appeared and promised to fix the rest of Harry's things for him by teatime. He'd watched as Harry put the glamour charms on, hiding that little 'bump' as Ron had started to call it.
Harry's hand clenched suddenly and Ron turned to look at him in concern. Hermione, who was on his partners' other side also looked over at the slight gasp he'd given. The morning sickness had finally abated, so Ron knew it wasn't that, and for a moment he thought the scar on his friend's forehead was aching again.
/they moved/ Harry's fingers were shaking with excitement//Ron, they moved/
Ron nodded and smiled for Hermione as Harry was clearly too astonished to notice anything other than the new signs of life within him. He reached a hand casually into Harry's lap and pressed against the Bump gently, not wanting to hurt them or his lover. Harry guided his hand and patted it in place.
Ron waited patiently, letting Binns' words flow over his head, aware that Hermione was also ignoring the professor in favour of watching them. A huge grin split his face as something beneath his hand fluttered. That was one of his children, moving around a little, and moment later another joined in. Ron wanted desperately to be alone with his spouse right now, to be able to cuddle up to him and feel their babies move around gently.
He patted the spot, then stroked /hello/ over it before drawing away reluctantly and sitting back properly before anyone noticed. No matter what they'd learned about Sympathetic Magic over the holidays - and it wasn't ego that suggested that his fellow students had hit the books to discover more about him and Harry - he didn't want to start a rumour that he had been molesting Harry in History of Magic. Hermione picked her quill up again and started writing once more. A questioning glance from Harry had Ron nodding permission and he watched the slender fingers capture Hermione's free hand, guiding it to the same spot Ron had touched. She looked startled, then concentrated for a moment, her face lighting up when she realised what was happening. She leaned forward to include Ron in her smile and he grinned back, face shining.
/I think they're bored with Binns/ Harry's fingers told Ron's thigh and he barely contained his snort of laughter. He shot his spouse a hot look and Harry's fingers trembled on the quill he held, sending a skittering line over his parchment. Being withchild had made Harry very amorous once everything had settled down, and he'd probably pay for that comment in bed tonight. Ron was not complaining.
0oo0oo0
Harry raised his head grumpily, trying to locate the irritating noise. He had Ron curled around him, his face pressed to the Bump, fingers caressing silly messages over and around it. The bed was warm and they had an hour until it was teatime. Hermione had been very understanding about them blowing off their usual routine of studying in the library in order to spend some time getting used to the newest development. Ron had taken him to Madam Pomfrey at dinner to be checked over, and she'd smiled in a very understanding fashion at them both. Everything was fine, and the rest of the day had been fairly easy. Even double Divination didn't bother him too much today.
Someone was knocking with authority on their door and he heaved a sigh, reaching down to roll Ron off him and getting up from their warm nest. He restored the glamour charm as Ron woke up and headed over to the door, removing the privacy wards and opening it. Professor Dumbledore was standing there, and Harry stepped back to let him in. The Headmaster was obviously in a hurry, but whatever he was hurrying over was put aside for a moment as he reached out to put a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Are you alright, dear boy? We missed you at dinner," he was asked tenderly and felt a huge grin split his face. He guided the other Wizards hand to his Bump and the babies fluttered against the touch. Dumbledore's face lit up in response and Harry chuckled, the Headmaster echoing the sound as he patted gently over the movement.
"It started in History of Magic this morning," he told his mentor happily and Dumbledore pulled back, "Ron wanted Madam Pomfrey to check that everything was ok, so we went at dinner."
"I see," the Headmaster nodded, "As much as I would wish otherwise, I'm afraid that I must disturb your rest."
"What's wrong?" Ron asked, coming up to wrap Harry in his arms. Harry was tense, expecting bad news, expecting to hear that Voldemort had somehow dragged himself back together and was coming to the castle. Dumbledore raised a hand to placate him and Harry was grateful that the Headmaster was not as oblivious as many people thought at first.
"Minister Fudge is here to discuss your future with the Ministry. I haven't much time as he and Professor McGonagall are coming to fetch you to the Room of Requirement - neutral ground for your meeting. I will be there as well, and I want you to remember that your partnership does not mean that you must sell your souls to the whims of the Ministry. Cornelius is the supplicant, here," the blue eyes sparked at them both and Harry grinned wryly, relaxing a little. He didn't like Fudge, and from what the Headmaster wasn't saying, Fudge was out to take the credit for their work again thus getting re-elected at Christmas.
"I bet he won't let that little fact on," Ron mused, echoing Harry's thoughts, and Harry sighed, nodding in agreement. Dumbledore twinkled at them and left quickly. Harry glanced around and spotted his shoes, moving free of the comfortable arms to put them on with a grumpy face.
"Uh oh," Ron teased lightly, "That's not a happy Harry face."
"No," Harry agreed, frowning even more, "And Fudge is about to find out what happens when he interrupts my cuddle time with you."
Ron laughed and kissed the temper off his face, clever fingers soothing his back and scalp, warm lips nuzzling his. Harry melted against his partner for a long moment before pulling back reluctantly. It wouldn't do to give Fudge information about their sex lives. He wondered if the Minister knew he was withchild and then shrugged. He doubted the Headmaster would have given away that little secret and looked over at Ron speculatively. His partner looked well kissed.
"What," Ron asked, half amused, half apprehensive. Harry smiled in reassurance at his partner as someone else knocked on the door. He ruffled his hair up and then smoothed it down again, a nervous habit that always got a grin from Ron.
"We'll just have to be cunning and devious," he watched Ron move towards the door. He waited until his spouse's hand was on the door and added, "Did you know that I was almost put in Slytherin?"
0oo0oo0
Ron spluttered and glared back as his partner before turning to face Professor McGonagall, all thoughts of snuggling with Harry gone from his head as his partner had no doubt intended. Pay back was a bitch, and Harry would find out all about it at Ron's leisure.
"Hello Professor, Minister," he said politely, "Is something wrong?"
"Minister Fudge wants to talk to you and Mr Potter," from Professor McGonagall's expression and tone the good Minister had put her thoroughly on her wrong side. Ron noticed Harry take notice of this and come to stand in the door beside him, smiling at their Head of House.
"Would you join us, ma'am?" Ron asked politely, "We'd appreciate your advice. Your office perhaps?"
"That's not very convenient," Fudge vetoed the idea immediately, "I'm sure we can manage here."
"Sorry, Minister," Harry's reply was bland and cool, "We've only two armchairs. How about the Room of Requirement? That should be nearby."
From the Professors approving little smile, Ron guessed they were playing along nicely, and he gestured courteously for her to precede them through the common room. Harry shut their dorm door behind them and was forced to fall into step with Fudge, leaving Ron to escort the Transfigurations mistress. Ron bit down on a surge of anger. Harry was all that the Minister was interested in, as usual, and Ron was merely an inconvenient tag along, despite the fact that Sympathetic Magic required two people to practice it. He didn't let his anger show on his face, keeping himself under tight control. Harry didn't feel that way, and he certainly didn't seek out the attention of others. Fame and notoriety were something that he tried to avoid.
The Room of Requirement had moved itself to their level and Ron politely held the door for McGonagall. Harry stopped beside him and took his hand, waving Fudge inside first. He leaned in and kissed Ron's cheek, whispering softly in his ear.
"You first, last and always."
The promise made Ron smile and nuzzle the retreating face softly before taking Harry's hand and heading in, letting the door swing shut behind them. Harry sealed it with a privacy spell and they walked over to the couch that was obviously left empty for them. Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were sitting side by side on the other couch, a low table in front of them with tea things on it. Fudge was sitting stiffly in an armchair, his briefcase open beside his feet, a small spindle legged table beside him piled with documents.
Ron ushered Harry to a seat, making sure there was a cushion at his back and settled in beside him, their hands clasped together lightly, fingers rubbing and stroking for a moment in mutual reassurance. Fudge pasted a smile onto his face and opened his mouth, turning to look at the two teachers, obviously about to get rid of them.
"Tea?" Harry said immediately, hitching forward and pouring a cup, "How do you take it Professor McGonagall?"
"Two lumps," she smiled at him almost dotingly, and Ron stifled a snicker. He got up to hand the cup and saucer over as Harry poured out for the Headmaster next and then the Minister. He passed the biscuits around and then settled in with his own cup of tea. Harry wasn't eating, and he raised a concerned eyebrow, settling when Harry stroked reassurance into his hand. He'd make sure his spouse ate properly in the Great Hall and left it at that. Now that the Minister couldn't really kick the teachers out without being very rude, thus possibly offending Ron and Harry, he huffed into his teacup and then fixed them with a steady glare, false camaraderie oozing from every pore.
"Well, gentlemen, it's time to discuss your future at the Ministry," Fudge put the mostly untouched tea down, picking up several of the documents at his side instead, "There are some decisions to be made of course, and firstly we should deal with your official residence. You can't live with your parents forever, Mr Weasley, and I rather think that there won't be a place for you at Hogwarts either," the not so faintly condescending tone had Ron's teeth on edge and Harry took a sharp breath. Ron knew all too well that he came from a family that wasn't rich, and never would be, and he realised that Fudge saw him as Harry's weak spot. From the stiffening of Harry's fingers and the slightly alarmed hitch to his breath, Ron knew that Harry would give up Potters Field when brooms became the most popular form of Muggle transport. He felt the same way, but could probably say it a little more politely.
"Ah, yes," Ron spoke before Harry could, and didn't miss the gleam in Fudge's eye. He thought that he had them in the palm of his hand. Nothing could be further from the truth.
"That's a very nice idea, Minister, but we already have a home," Ron completed the sentence smoothly, raising a slightly challenging eyebrow at the pompous twat opposite him. Fudge flushed and frowned. Ron snuck a glance at the teachers opposite them under the guise of turning to Harry and calming him down. They were sipping their tea calmly, but he could have sworn McGonagall winked at him.
"I… beg your pardon?" Fudge looked astonished and rifled his documents as if they could provide him with answers. Harry's fingers quieted Ron, and he sat back to allow his partner to handle this next part. They were a team and the trust between them was implicit.
"Minister, Ron and I have set ourselves up quite comfortably in a house of our own," Harry explained, "Now if you want to tender an offer of employment with the Ministry, then we are willing to listen. However if you attempt to interfere in our private lives again we will walk out."
That cold, adult, so very sexy tone had Ron crossing his legs and sipping his tea in an effort to quell his very treacherous hormones. Harry's fingers laughed at him and Ron smiled sweetly at him as he put the teacup down, enjoying the slightly disconcerted smile he got in return. Fudge was too busy trying to recover from that cool tone that he wouldn't notice the by play. They'd sort things out in private. It would be fun.
0oo0oo0
Hermione was waiting for them at tea, but they couldn't talk to her in the Great Hall - there were too many people around. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle joined them at the Gryffindor table, and Harry noticed that the Slytherin Prefect was very subdued. With one parent dead and one in St Mungo's trying to recover from twenty years of the Imperious Curse, Malfoy was in a bad spot. Harry had noticed that quite a few of the Slytherin students - nearly half of them had Death Eaters for parents - were in a similar condition. Not quite depressed, but very subdued. Professor Snape had taken to actually eating at the Slytherin table on occasion with small groups from his House. It worried Harry that by getting rid of Voldemort with Ron's help, he had hurt people he knew. Not all of the students in Slytherin had Death Eaters for parents, and those that did wouldn't necessarily have followed in their footsteps.
He made a mental note to have a word with the first and second years the next time he took prep with Ron and spent dinner talking quietly to Malfoy about the potions Snape had them working on. At his fingers request, Ron distracted Crabbe and Goyle with Quidditch, and Hermione joined the potions talk, making as pleasant a meal out of it as possible. Malfoy was looking a little more cheerful by the end of the meal - he'd managed to get some good sneering in at them - and when Harry stood up with his friends he glanced over at the Slytherin table for a moment. Snape was watching him with an unreadable expression, one that changed as one of his students asked him a question.
"What was all that about?" Hermione asked as they walked up the Great Staircase, "Harry?"
"I… it's not fair to punish them for their parents decisions," Harry sighed, "How can we talk about school unity if we treat the Slytherins badly? Nearly half of them have had a parent put in Azkaban or killed, or just disappeared. We need to support them."
"That's Snape's job," Ron pointed out. Harry looked at him steadily and Ron sighed, giving in with a nod, "Ok, ok, just stop looking at me like that!"
Hermione laughed and Harry joined in, following her to their dorm room, watching her lock the door behind them while Ron pulled off his outer robes and hung them on a hook, turning and tugging at Harry's when he made no move to get undressed.
"Make yourself at home, Hermy," Ron said absently, pulling the robe off and bending to undo Harry's shoes as well. Harry shook his head, stepping away once the laces were undone and toeing them off. Hermione took over, bustling him to the bed and climbing on, pulling him after her, Ron following until Harry was sandwiched between them both, a mismatched pair of hands on the Bump, one red and one brown head resting on his shoulders.
"Yes, make yourself at home," Harry snorted and Ron leaned up to kiss him, his fingers stroking the Bump curiously. There was a slight movement in response and Hermione gasped in delight.
"What is this, feel up the withchild guy?" Harry continued, not at all outraged, merely amused by the attention, and a little flattered. It felt so strange to have his insides moving independently, and the fact that his best friend and his spouse were so interested made it only weirder.
"What did Fudge want?" Hermione asked and Harry rested his cheek on Ron's head. If he sat still enough Ron would probably doze off, and Harry could get the cuddles that had been interrupted this afternoon. Ron was very cuddly when he was asleep.
"He came to arrange an official residence for us - that we turned down straight away - and to outline what our traditional duty to the Ministry was," Harry sighed, comfortable and warm. Hermione clucked her tongue and he wormed an arm around her waist, cuddling her too.
"Bet that went down well with Ron," she muttered and Harry chuckled. Ron had been incensed that the Minister would be so… mercenary.
"He was not best pleased," Harry agreed, "Neither was Dumbledore or McGonagall. Fudge tried to do this without their presence, you see, and we had to be a bit devious about it all."
"So what will you be doing after school?" Hermione asked curiously, "You were going to be an Auror before, right?"
"With the babies on the way I'd have to have given that up," Harry admitted, "I don't think that it would be fair to them for us both to do such a dangerous job, so if Ron wanted to be an Auror then I'd have found something else to do. We can't do that now either, really, because we'd be splitting up the partnership. The Magic works best when we're together, and it would be dangerous for us both for Ron to go to work without me. Either one of us could distract the other at a crucial moment just by casting a simple spell."
"Does Fudge know you're withchild?" Hermione asked and Harry shook his head, patting her hip lightly.
"Only family know about that," he told her, "And the teachers because they need to let me out of some of the more risky lessons. I don't want Fudge all over us right now - can you imagine how bad he'd be? He'd want us to name the babies after him."
"Yuck," Hermione agreed, the fluttering under her hand stilling as the child she was patting went to sleep, "So? What will you do now?"
"Well, St Mungo's will have us on contract to brew Tears of the Phoenix, and we'll be asking Professor Snape for any further training or potions he wants us to have. The Department of Accidental Magic Reversal will have us on call, and so will the Aurors. We'll be doing a little training with both of those departments of course, to ensure that we're up to speed with their methods, though we told Fudge we'd start the training next year. But that was all that we agreed to. Fudge wanted us to work full time in the Department as consultants - on what he wouldn't say - but we turned him down."
"But that's not too busy," Hermione smiled, "You'll be able to spend time at home with the children at least. Will the contracts you've described be enough to live on?"
"If we only agreed to brew Tears of the Phoenix for the next three years we could buy ourselves a nice little country somewhere," Harry confessed with a chuckle, "The potion is so rarely made that St Mungo's was desperate for us to agree to make it. We'll brew double batches for them every two months and one batch will be dedicated to curing the werewolves."
"I'm so glad you could help Professor Lupin," Hermione agreed sleepily. Ron was a limp weight against Harry's side and the bed was warm and cosy from heat generated by the three of them.
"Me too," Harry lowered his voice to a gentle tone, his hand stroking her hip lightly, "He deserves happiness."
"Mm," Hermione agreed, her head growing heavier on his shoulder. She had been working so hard lately, studying every moment she got. Harry slowed his breathing down even further and relaxed into the pillows at his back. Sleeping sitting up wasn't his idea of a lot of fun, but they were so comfortable, and he was honoured that Hermione would trust them enough to relax so far as to sleep, that it seemed a pity to wake them. Hermione snuffled a little into his shoulder and Harry smiled, letting his eyes close, summoning the shields that he held around his mind as he slept.
0oo0oo0
Ron watched as Harry went to sit at the table that held the first and second year Slytherin students. The other three tables in the prep rooms were full of happy laughing students; all mixed together, House unimportant as they worked through their homework and assignments. Slytherin had been pretty withdrawn since some of their parents had disappeared, even the ones who hadn't lost a parent were moving around the school with tentative steps.
Ron had the feeling, and Harry had agreed, that the younger students felt that the school was going to unify against their House. Slytherin had taken its pleasure in the taunting of other Houses for so long that there had been a huge backlash against them with the death of Tom Riddle. Harry had told Ron that he planned to stir up the younger students a little, mostly because they were the ones that had been here for the start of the school decision to unify the Houses and would therefore be a little more receptive to the idea of regenerating Slytherins image.
He paid close attention to his boisterous Gryffindors and smiled as Beth succeeded in finally changing her cup of water into rum. Her Transfiguration work was appalling, much to their Head of House' despair. She was a little better in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and her Charm work was adequate enough. It was in Potions and Herbology that she shined, and Ron had heard her explaining the Potions homework in Snape's cutting style more than once.
A glance at his watch showed that the prep time was almost up; the first and second years had an early curfew in order to ensure they stayed out of trouble. Harry was working quietly with the Slytherins paying attention only to them despite the glances the rest of the Houses were throwing his way in the hopes that they could get his attention. Ron packed them up early today, wanting to join Harry in the 'stirring' so his spouse wouldn't get into trouble alone if it came to that.
Harry had evidently asked the Slytherins to stay behind because Ron had the rest of the Houses out the door while Harry helped them pack up. Once he was sure that the first and second years were on their way back to their common rooms Ron sealed the door and came to sit at the end of the table opposite Harry.
"Go on then," one of Harry's former students sighed, "Tell us just how evil we all are."
Ron gaped at him in horror, wondering just who had told them that the rest of the school thought they were evil, and Harry broke the tension with his laughter. He was stared at, and one or two people shifted, stifling their own laughter. Ron's partner was irresistible when he laughed, even these young people couldn't stand against his charm.
"You're not evil," Harry shook his head, his eyes sparkling, "And I know that the rest of your House isn't too happy right now, which is making things hard for you, but no one in the school thinks that you're bad."
"Draco heard some of the seventh years," one of Ron's girls spoke up and Harry held up a hand. She stopped speaking and Harry folded his arms on the table, leaning in to get their full attention. Ron was fascinated, and the tiny glances he could spare for the rest of the students showed that they were too.
"Seventh years are, on the whole, stressed and stupid right now," Harry shook his head, "And… well, we've had a lot of time to get into bad habits. The problem as I see it is that the Slytherin House is the victim of some poor selections. You guys had a group of students go through that ruined the House reputation, because at the time they were doing what their parents told them to do. Slytherin doesn't stand for evil, or even nastiness. Your House prizes people with ambition and sharp wits. You can be sneaky, but you're clever. There's never been any mention of nastiness or mean behaviour in your House guidelines. It's time you guys took control and started reminding this school just how witty and sharp you all are."
"Exactly," Ron beamed, seeing instantly what Harry was aiming for, "You guys need to get it back to basics and rebuild."
"Huh?" the first student who had spoken shook his head, but Ron thought that he could see the beginning of hope in the pale face, "How?"
"Oh come on," Harry rolled his eyes, "Wit is often equated with humour. Now, I'm not telling you to run around performing harmless practical jokes on the students, or in the corridors or anything like that. I mean that would be totally irresponsible of me as a seventh year."
"And I'm not suggesting that you start looking for the humour in some of the lessons that can be transferred to other places or anything either," Ron spoke up, "However, it would be nice to see your House return to the wit and intelligence it was once known for."
"Seriously, we're not encouraging any kind of rule breaking. We don't want to see you in trouble or taking huge risks. But a little harmless, well meant fun… that couldn't hurt anyone, right?" Harry agreed, "You should think it over. I'm sure that people as sharp witted as you understand what we mean."
Ron got up and unsealed the door as the students gathered their things together. He and Harry would have to walk them to the common room as it was just on curfew and he didn't want to see them in trouble for staying back to hear his partner out. With a bit of luck the seeds they'd planted in these agile minds would take root and flower.
0oo0oo0
All was quiet for a week or so. Harry could see that the first and second years were thinking and plotting together, however, their heads close together and wandering in little clumps around the corridors. They were still mixing with the rest of the school, and Harry encouraged his friends to reminisce a little in their hearing about past pranks that the Gryffindor's had pulled or had pulled on them. From the wondering glances he knew that they were wondering what was going on, but the first and second years ate it up, and it was kind of fun to muse over old times. It was also a great stress relief - if you were laughing, you weren't worrying over your NEWT's.
Hermione had probably figured out what was going on, because Harry was sure that he'd seen her put a book of charms next to a Slytherin boy that contained some of the jokes they were talking about. That book was promptly checked out and Harry could have sworn she winked at the student in question and mouthed a page number to him.
The first years chose Monday tea for their first prank, waiting until the meal was over and people starting to think about getting back to their common room or studies. Harry clearly heard Hannah Abbott complain that she was too tired to walk back to the library. A minute later the bench she was sitting on was walking her to the door, along with the four other students still sitting on it.
Laughter rang through the hall over their startled exclamations, and Snape glanced suspiciously at one of his students. Harry distracted the Potions master by ending the spell and making a show of rescuing her from the bench, chiding her for her 'laziness'. Hannah was flushed and surprised, but not hurt, and laughed at the joke, thanking the hall at large for 'taking pity on her'.
On Tuesday someone enchanted the suits of armour along the second floor corridors to follow students along, clanking ominously. No one was hurt, though it was a little disconcerting to suddenly gain a metal 'shadow' that copied your every movement, including looking around to see what was following it. Filch wasn't best pleased, but there were a lot more smiles around that day, and Professor Flitwick was heard to admire the quality of the charm work.
On Wednesday someone started a food fight at teatime, and Harry was fairly sure he'd seen the Headmaster throwing custard at Professor Snape. Things quietened down a bit after that, but Harry was satisfied with the start that had been made. Rumours that the third and fourth years were going to get into the act reached his ears and he spent the day with a grin that wouldn't go away.
"Far too self satisfied, Potter," Ron mumbled in their bed that night, and Harry snorted.
"You can talk, Potter," he retorted, the first time he had given Ron his last name. He was thoroughly kissed in reply before Ron dropped back onto the mattress and snuggled around the Bump. The triplets had started using Harry's bladder as a trampoline this morning, which meant he was headed for the loo every hour or so, much to his embarrassment.
"You're fascinated by that, aren't you?" he grinned, looking down his body to his spouse. Ron sat up, looking at him seriously. He obviously had something on his mind, and Harry didn't have long to wonder what it was.
"I just…" the redhead ran a hand through his already messy hair, "Ok, here's the thing. When we talked about having kids… not that we really did…and you didn't know much about it, anyway, what it really meant… so I didn't honestly think that you'd ever want this… to be withchild. And now, you're carrying our kids, and taking NEWT's and taking care of the younger students, especially Slytherins and… I just can't believe how… how wonderful you are, and how lucky I am to have you."
"I'm just as lucky to have you," Harry whispered, feeling ridiculously touched by the words. His emotions were a lot closer to the surface due to the hormones that came with being withchild, which Harry hated. Ron crawled back up the bed and wrapped him in his arms, letting Harry hide in his neck, breathing in the scent that he loved best, glad that there was at least one person in the world who he could count on for anything.
0oo0oo0