Chapter 6: Articles and Babies

A/N: Hooooo boy. It's been a while hasn't it. This one has over two thousand words. You can go reread the last chapter if you forgot what happened.

Disclaimer: My writing is crap, do you really think I own Harry Potter?

Ginny woke up with memories of last night. Where are Hermione and Nyla? She got up slowly and realized she was wearing pajamas. "Oh, Harry," she whispered to herself. She found everyone except her parents spread out in the sitting room when she came downstairs. Hermione was lying on Harry and Ron and Luna (who was next to Harry) had her head on his shoulder. Neville had his head on Nyla's shoulder and George looked as if he were about to fall off. On the other couch, Fluer fell asleep on Bill's lap and Charlie was lying on the floor while Percy's foot was almost touching his face. That's when she spotted the Firewhiskey and snorted. And then Harry woke up.

"Wass goin' on?" he asked sleepily.

"You're hungover," she replied.

"Wha-? Oh."

"You look cute," she said suddenly. He did. His eyes and mouth were halfway open and his glasses were askew. She leaned over the couch and kissed him softly.

"Reckon we should wake them?" She nodded. "Oi, Hermione. Wake up."

"What?"

"Wake up your boyfriend too. Luna, Luna."

"Your shoulder's very comfortable, Harry," she said sleepily.

"Erm… thanks? Could you wake up Nyla and Neville and George, please?"

"Fluer, wake up," he heard Ginny say.

Ginny had administered Hangover Potion to everyone by the time Molly and Arthur came down. Ron and Hermione were sitting on one side of the couch while Ginny was on the other. Harry, in all his six foot glory, was lying with his head in Ginny's lap and his legs in Ron and Hermione's.

"Ron is that an owl?" He shrugged.

"I'll get it."

"Who's it for, Fluer?"

"'Arry and Ginny."

"It's from . It says: 'Read the article before you read the rest of my letter'. She writes rather elegantly doesn't she," Ginny asked. "What art- oh—hell…. This cannot be happening."

"What can't be happening. Oh wait. Don't tell me it's the—by—no," he gasped.

"Stop speaking in code and tell us what the hell is going on!"

"Rita-"

"No!"

"- Skeeter's written an article about Harry and I, front page of the Daily Prophet. The war's not the front page, no it's us. But there is an obituary column."

"What's it say," Harry asked wearily.

"'Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley have a love child-'"

"But- that's impossible!" Hermione said outraged. "That's Teddy!"

"I know, but he's got Harry's eyes and my hair."

"Bloody hell," Ron grumbled.

"'As you can tell, he has Mr. Potter's eyes and Miss Weasley's hair—shhh!—color. Ginevra Weasley, the sister of Mr. Potter's best friend, Ronald Weasley. I wonder how Mr. Weasley's taking this big blow. Is he mad? Does he accept it? Does he feel the fresh sting of betrayal? How is it that sixteen and seventeen year old teenagers have a child, you ask. Worse things have happened.' That's too dramatic. 'Who knows? I'd like to know, so Mr. Weasley, if you'd ever like an interview, you know how to find me.'"

"I can't believe this," Nyla said with an exasperated sigh. "Just… read the rest of Mrs. Tonks' letter."

"Erm… it says, 'I'm laughing right now as I write this. It's hilarious how she thinks the son of my daughter and her husband is yours. Now, Harry, don't think I blame you at all for any of this. It's a simple misunderstanding. And good hex to the face should fix it. What do you say, hmmm? Should we go down to the Ministry and have a talk with Miss Skeeter?' Well she's taking this exceptionally well."

I am sorry to inform that Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter do not have a child. The little boy in the picture was Edward Lupin, son of werewolf Remus Lupin and Metamorphagus Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, two war heroes who sadly, are deceased. I am truly sorry and wish to pay my respects.

The rest of the article was about everyone who died and fought in the war by a different journalist who goes by the name of John Calimeir.

Knock. Knock.

"Who's there," Ginny called.

"Olive."

"Fuck off, Harry."

"Fine, just let us in." Hermione opened the door and asked what the rest of the joke was. "Olive you." She snorted.

"What do you want," Ginny asked as Harry and Ron blushed (they were only wearing bras and shorts).

"We were bored so, here we are," Ron answered.

"What hairstyle Hermione?" She shrugged. "Ron, Harry?"

"Plait?"

"Too casual."

"Ponytail?"

"Nah."

"Down?"

"Too normal."

"I don't bloody know!"

"Doughnut bun?"

"Yes!" And Nyla set to work on Hermione's hair.

"Comb my hair, will you, Harry," Ginny asked. He nodded.

"We are gathered here today to have a memorial service for victims the First and Second Wizarding World War," McGonagall boomed. "I would like to call Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley to help read off everyone. Would you please come up here?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione were given pieces of parchment with names written on them. "Luke Campbell." All the way to: "Colin Creevy." Kingsley had talked about him being appointed temporary Minister for Magic and rebuilding the magical community of Britain.

Harry had to tell someone about the new lightning-shaped scar on his chest. He couldn't tell Hermione because she'd stress herself out by doing research. Ron… maybe. But he'd just say, 'Don't worry about it.' Ginny…no. But Luna wouldn't judge, she would just be Luna.

"Where are you going, mate?" He was now at the door. He must have unconsciously got up and walked toward the door.

"Oh, er, I'm going for a walk." That was partially true. Ron nodded as Harry left.

The walk to Luna's house wasn't long. He, Ron, and Hermione had helped rebuild their house after the battle. He knocked and Luna opened the door.

"Oh, hi, Harry."

"Hi Luna."

"Who is it, Luna," Xenophilius Lovegood called.

"Harry."

"Okay."

"What's wrong Harry?"

"It's er…" he trailed off.

"Want to go somewhere in private?"

"Erm, yeah, sure." They walked back to the Burrow's broom shed.

"Rather cozy, isn't it," Luna asked. It reminded him his disastrous interview with Rita Skeeter in his fourth year. "Why are you nervous?"

"Er… I don't know much about but I think I know what it was caused by. But I just want your opinion on what you think it is." He took off his shirt and Luna touched the scar.

"Ouch!"

"Are you okay, Luna," Harry asked worriedly.

"Don't worry Harry, it's like the bite of the Flightless Gernuk," she replied, marveling at her finger.

"The… what?"

"The Flightless Gernuk, Harry. It's an endangered species of Gernuk."

"And a Gernuk is what, exactly."

"It's a tremendous rainbow-colored bird that screeches when somebody up to no good is near," she answered airly. He nodded slowly. "Well… this new scar… it's rather mysterious, isn't it?"

"Yeah. But the thing is, I don't know if it's benign or not."

"Why'd you come to me and not one of your other friends?"

"Luna, you're unique… and I knew that I could get er… better advice from you than Ron or Hermione," he explained.

"Well, do you know the cause of this scar? If I know the origin maybe I could help."

"Well, me, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are the only ones who know about them But, Voldemort made Horcruxes."

"One of my suspected ways." Harry scrunched his nose and stared at her in surprise.

"H-how do you know about Horcruxes, Luna?"

"My mother was fascinated by all types of magic and she left a book about Horcruxes after she died. I read it, and it's rather a horrible type of magic. And did you say 'Horcruxes' as plural?" Harry nodded. "Merlin… that's afwul."

"Voldemort intended to make six, split his soul into seven pieces, y'know? He thought seven was the 'ultimate magic number'. But when he killed my parents he unintentionally made another one-"

"-which was you."

"Yes, and I have a theory that when Voldemort tried to kill me in the forest, and the part of his soul that was in my body caused this scar."

"Well, the one on your forehead is from the Killing Curse, and there's no black surrounding it. So, I think that the scar is from Avada Kedavrra and the blackness is from his soul leaving your body."

"So what should I do?"

"I don't know, Harry. Maybe we should wait and see what happens," said Luna.

George had seen the pictures. They were all of that pig, Dudley. Harry wasn't in a single one of them. If you only looked at the pictures, you would think the Dursleys were a fully-functional, kind family. You wouldn't know Harry even existed—or at least lived there. George was going to change that. Harry having pictures of course, not him in pictures with the Dursleys. A simple De-aging Potion he brewed with Lee, slipped into Harry's pumpkin juice. It was the perfect type too. The potion was odorless, colorless, and tasteless. The circumstances were better than what it was usually used for. People looking for revenge—or just getting them out of the way—used it to make kings and queens babies, since obviously, they wouldn't be able to rule until the antidote was administered, which took long to make. "Can't you use a bezoar," people questioned. You can't shove a bezoar down a baby's throat. In the time a ruler was a baby, you could easily kill them. George's use was to make Harry younger so Molly or Arthur could take pictures and hang them up. The sole purpose was to make Harry happy afterwards he tried to kill George. He and Lee made it slow acting so Harry didn't immediately become the targeted age, five, at the dinner table.

Molly heard the wails of child. A sound she hadn't heard in twelve years. What the hell? She quickly climbed the stairs and burst into Ron's room where there was a naked little boy with raven-colored hair.

"Harry?" she screeched. And the boy cried harder. "Merlin, Merlin, oh my god, Godric help me," she whispered frantically. She hurried up to the attic and heard Ginny scream as she looked for clothes that would fit Harry. When she came back down Ginny's eyes were wide as saucers.

"Bloody hell," she whispered. Ginny saw the clothes in Molly's hands. "Are you always prepared for sh- things like this, Mum?" Molly ignored her and started dressing Harry.

"Who are you," Harry asked quietly and both their hearts melted. Ginny ran down the steps to find Ron and Hermione. They were outside snogging. She made a gagging noise and forced them apart.

"You won't believe this," Ginny said as she dragged them into the Burrow and into Ron's room. Hermione squeaked and Ron opened and closed his mouth several times. Molly was talking very quietly in a soothing manner to calm Harry down. "Can I hold him?" Molly nodded and Ginny picked him up. "Hi, Harry."

"Who are you," Harry repeated.

"I'm filling in for Mrs. Figg," she explained.

"Who's everyone else?" She shifted so Harry was on her hip and pointed at Molly.

"That's my mum, that's my friend Hermione, and my brother Ron," she said pointing at everyone. Ron's eyes lit up as he came up with an idea.

"Let's take him to the tree house," he said excitedly.

"Brilliant, Ron! Do you want to go play in the tree house," she asked Harry. He smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"I don't get to do this at Ms. Figg's house," beamed Harry. He looked around in amazement as they walked through the Weasleys' house. "Woah! This is like m-magic!"

"It is magic," Hermione winked at him. They reached the tree house, which neither Hermione nor older-Harry had known existed, and climbed up the ladder. It was bigger on the inside than it looked on the inside, much like the tents they used at the Quidditch World Cup.

"What do you have up here," Hermione asked.

"Erm… we have a tea set, an upstairs where we napped, and a box elevator. Hermione looked impressed.

"C-can we go to the elevator," asked Harry shyly.

"Sure," Ron smiled.

A/N: Hello lovelies. I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter (you can go review and tell me *hint hint*). And you might be wondering, where's Nyla? She's at Luna's house. You alson might be wondering why she's stay7ing at the Weasleys' and Lovegoods' houses. That's a story for another time, sorry.