Somehow, my husband gets me to help him in the dastardly secrecy he is planning. What a Gryffindor he is, not even going to tell the kids about the party until the last possible moment. Because they are, you know, our intelligent little brats, I'm pretty sure that they will find out using their observation skills, but I make the wise decision to keep this thought to myself.
I mean, we're all stressed enough without a Harry-and-Ginny-enormous-blow-out happening before the ruddy party!
Unless, he somehow kills me and I can avoid the party because I'm dead.
So, after plotting for about an hour, I manage to rouse myself with a combination of coffee, chocolate, and pop and I go into the kitchen to prepare something that I can take as a peace offering. And it has to be something that I would normally bake. So that leaves us with brownies, thankfully the easiest thing that a person can bake. Especially if you add in my mum's "Everything has to be baked by hand" philosophy, which makes me seriously consider denying to be her actual child.
At least, that way I would have a true, legitimate reason of getting out of this everybody-gets-totally-wasted party.
So, as I'm basically throwing the contents of one of those life-saving brownie mixes in a bowl, Harry's sitting at the kitchen table staring at the T-chart he's making of the things we actually need to tell the kids, and the things that we don't. Well, it actually isn't his choice, I basically bullied him into it.
"Do we actually have to tell them that the bathrooms are the best place to hide?" Harry says, looking up at me with a questioning look on his face about the random notes that I jotted down for him. "Merlin, Gin, they've all been to these parties before, it's not like they haven't figured out where they can go to run all the others!"
I don't really have a good explanation for that. I guess I just have this weird feeling that something's going to happen, and for some reason or another, they're going need a place to be safe.
"If I'm going, you're going to bloody well tell them that, Harry." I say in the coldest voice I can possibly do while throwing eggs in with the mix. I think I may need to work on this voice thing in the future.
You know, when I have time.
Harry just rolls his eyes at me, but doesn't cross it out because I have taught him quite well. You never, EVER, cross me when I'm on a rampage about these parties, especially when I'm baking for the damned thing.
Speaking of that, the batter's finally ready, and I'm sticking it in the oven. In my opinion, the only reason that baking's even tolerable is the results. I'm practically salivating over my mixing stick already.
Ah, the joys of being a wife. We can hoard our mixing sticks that I can never remember the names of. Harry's giving the stick the look at the moment. I can tell that at any moment...
"Gin, can I have a bite?" Harry asks, using his sickly sweet I-want-some-batter voice. I just give him a look, and he seems to know what the answer is, but continues to stare. Sigh. I mean, I can't really keep it from him, right? This isn't weak, he never got any as a kid so now I have to try to give him the brownie batter experience.
Okay, I am weak.
I give this world-worn sigh, and hand him the spoon. He takes possibly the biggest lick of a spoon I have seen in my life, and that's saying something! Considering I'm a Weasley and we have the appetites of... actually, I can't even think of an animal that eats as much as we do.
Why am I making brownies anyway? Why don't I just make something magical that everybody actually likes? I guess its because... well, I love brownies! And plus, it's a very rare occurrence to surprise anybody in this family with food, and brownies have become my trademark food. Which is kind of pathetic to think about, because they are definitely on the list of "Easiest Dessert to Make".
Not that I've checked or anything.
Who am I kidding?
Harry hands it back to me, and I quickly polish it off, as we Weasleys do. Except the whole I'm-a-Potter thing kind of ruins the overall effect of this nice little analogy or whatever on my part.
Harry seems to sense my moment of vulnerableness in the face of brownie batter, and he jumps up.
"We better go get ready," he says enthusiastically. Well, as enthusiastically any man that's facing death can. Oh wait, he's Harry Potter. He does this every day! "Quietly, Ginny, quietly."
He seems to have noticed my loud nature. And I may have this sort of bad habit of knocking random things over at worst possible moment.
I profess that it's just nerves, but he disagrees and says that it's just my true nature coming out under stress.
Tehe.
Together we slowly begin the rickety climb of the staircase, and do our best to miss the squeaky stair. I'm not quite sure how well I succeeded. Because Harry's got the whole graceful as a gazelle thing down pat, I look like a giant as I stagger up the stairs next to his sweeping gait. How embarrassing.
Too bad that I am way beyond caring.
Someday, Ginny, someday.
Lily is seriously lucky that she got his grace, and not mine. She looks exactly like him when she dances into the kitchen every morning, so happy. She must have got my disposition.
Snort.
Harry brandishes his wand like a sword as we reach the top, and points it at each door one by one.
"They're still asleep, we've got some time," he says, using the tone that sounds as if we're invading Death Eater territory and got lucky or something.
So, because I'm Ginevra Potter, I say as seductively as possible when on caffeine, "Time to do what, Potter?"
He looks at me like he's mentally undressing me, then seems to shake himself. He glares at me. "Remember what happened last time that someone got some naughty ideas, Ginevra? Remember how we ended up actually having to Obliviate the kids because they were so traumatized? I don't think we need a repeat."
Oh. Ha, I actually was starting to forget about that. Did I Obliviate myself by accident, too?
He pauses, then does a weird little side-step, then makes a dash into the main bedroom. Giggling mentally, I try to copy his actions and end up crashing into the wall with a loud thud. Ow.
"Bloody hell!" I curse quietly under my breath. Then again, there's not really any point in being quiet since there is a very good chance that I just woke up the devils. I hold my breath, and listen for any disturbances on the sleeping front. I look up sheepishly, after nothing happens, into the face of my husband, who has obviously came to see my humiliation.
"Like I said, Ginny, quietly." He's trying to give me his own version of the glare-of-death, but because I am the only one who can do it properly in this family, and I can see the twinkle of the laughter in his eyes that he's trying to hold in, it has no effect whatsoever.
Haha, Harry. Haha.
Because I can definitely not take a glare like that lying down, I stand up. I give him my you-did-not-actually-just-glare-at-me glare, and flounce past him into the room. I spin and watch him come in and when he just looks at me, I know I have to defend myself.
"It's all your fault," I say, happy to have somewhere to put the guilt of this little episode. "If you hadn't done that ruddy side-step of yours-"
"Oh, so that's what got you!" Harry interrupts, smirking. "That always gets you, doesn't it?"
I really have no defense to this whatsoever, so I just sit down on the bed.
Still smirking, Harry begins to throw some of his possessions into a bag. Quick tip: Never, ever, ever, EVER go to a Weasley family party without a spare outfit and knickers. Ever. I don't want to tell you why, but you just don't.
Seriously.
I sigh, and start throwing my own clothes into a bag. There. I have just enough for a week, in case I need to run or whatever. Surprisingly, this actually just isn't me being paranoid. It's serious.
We just stand around, throwing things into separate bags for a few moments. I'm amazed when I notice that we're doing some weird kind of synchronisation. We are odd, aren't we?
I'm about to point this out to Harry, who would probably just laugh at me, when I hear a yawn.
Bloody mother of Merlin!
I freeze on the spot, and slowly begin the creep toward the door. I risk a glance at the clock on the nightstand, and it's only 11! Hey, we actually got an hour more than I thought we would! Wow, they must have been seriously tired from yesterday.
"What's wrong?" Harry asks in a hushed whisper. He's lucky that he's got the whole quiet voice thing down, I definitely don't. Yet.
That will be part of my New Years Resolution: Learn to be a good parent like Harry.
Ha.
"I heard a sound, " I hiss at him, without even turning around to look. I can practically hear his body tense up. I feel him glide in next to me, and it's hard to believe that anyone can look so bloody handsome when they are so scared.
I can feel him trembling. Oh, never mind, that's me.
I can feel him next to me, and suddenly, I want to kiss him goodbye, in case this is the last time I ever get to be near him. I look up into his face appreciatively, and his deep green eyes stare back at me. Damn kids.
I hear another yawn, and one of those stretching mews that Al inherited from me. I breathe out slowly, almost in relief, because at least it's Al, not James. Then I remember.
Dear Merlin, their rooms are next to each other! And when one's awake...
The other's soon to follow.
I turn and look at Harry again, and we share matching looks of horror. Bring on the kids!
Like the adults we are, Harry and I walk down to the kitchen as calmly as we can, trying to beat the kids down.
Basically meaning, we sprint. Quietly, in Harry's case.
Me? Not so much.
I nearly fall down on the stairs, which might not be because of my clumsiness, but may be a result of complete panic. I just have to pull myself up, and try not to burst into tears. Which is odd, because I don't really want to cry. It would just be seen as a sign of complete and utter weakness. I can not look weak. James, Al, Lily, and Teddy would just take total advantage of that...
TEDDY!
"Harry, we forgot to schedule Teddy in! Our plan is ruined!" I breathe as slowly as I can, trying not to hyperventilate myself to death. We definitely have to floo Andromeda as soon as possible, or there's no way in hell that Teddy won't have plans. But that means... we have to tell him!
Crap!
Seventeen-year old kids definitely ruin the best of plans.
Harry is just looking at me, and again I can sense the amusement in his eyes. He tries to cover it up with a scared expression, but it doesn't really work. I give him a glare, but it's weaker than it really should be.
Sometimes, a witch just doesn't have the strength she used to. And it's a sad, sad day.
"You have to do it," I say decisively, before turning away and peeking into the fridge for lunch ideas. "He's your godson!"
"That's not fair!" Harry says indignantly, though I think he can recognize that he's basically talking to a wall. He can't really deny that, since I've never been technically named his godmother, it's just something we've all understood. One of those unspoken rules.
In my opinion, unspoken rules suck most of the time, because you can never get any proof that they ever existed at all.
Except, in this case.
Hehe!
Harry reconciles himself with the fact that, yes, it will be him that has to do it. He sighs, and begins to walk over to the fireplace while I break out in a foolish grin. Score 1 for Ginny!
The floo whirs, and I turn to look as Harry sticks his head through.
"Hi Teddy, is your grandmother there?" Harry sounds really awkward when he says it, I would bet money that Teddy can sense that somethings up. Harry has always been a crap liar.
"Hello Andromeda, I have something I need to discuss with you in private, please?" What? I thought he was going to tell... Oh! I get it! Sometimes, my husband is a genius. While he's speaking, I can hear the sound of footsteps as they come down the stairs. It sounds rather... ominous.
Oh Merlin.
Harry notices too, and wraps up his explanation as quickly as possible.
I can almost hear Andromeda laughing at him. Oh wait, I can!
"Bye, Andromeda. Thanks!" Harry quickly pulls his head out, and casts a quick charm to get rid of the dust.
"Morning, Mum! What's for breakfast?" Al comes into the kitchen, still in his pajamas and his hair looks, well, like his father's.
"And what died?" James comes down just a step behind him, his own Fred-and-George smile plastered on his face.
Crap. What more can I say?
I whirl, and cautiously open the oven. A wave of thick, black smoke comes out, and sends us all into coughing fits.
Mother of pearl!
"Oh MERLIN!" James and Al yell together, and I kind of flinch away. I have to admit, that it really is that bad. We're all going to smell like fire for days.
Hey, maybe we'll set off the alarm tonight!
But, on the other hand, there goes the brownies. Sigh.
"That better not have been breakfast," James says with a glare, as he points at the ruins of my beautiful brownies. "There's no way I'm gonna eat that!"
Al nods his head in agreement.
"What happened?" Lily asks as she walks into the kitchen, a big grin on her face that kind of looks like mine. She wrinkles her nose. "It smells funny."
I'm betting that the whole James-and-Al-yell-together thing is what woke her up. It looks like she just rolled out of bed.
"Your mother just burnt something she was trying to make for you," Harry says in his most cheerful, upbeat sounding voice.
"Can we go watch the telly while you make breakfast?" Al asks in a hopeful voice. "There's a show me and James-"
"James and I," I automatically correct.
"-have been meaning to watch." Al just rolls his eyes. That silly nine-year-old attitude that he's already got. He's probably going to be as moody as his father as a teenager.
James doesn't even wait for the answer, just books it into the telly room before we can say no. Al looks at Lily, and she sighs as she follows them in.
All I can do is stare after them in stupidity. Wow. I am not very bright.
"I'm thinking cereal for breakfast..." Harry says carefully as he begins pulling bowls out of the cupboard.
"We can't just give them cereal," I say logically. "It's almost lunch!"
"Well, what's your plan for the meal then? I sure don't have another one!"
"Cereal it is, then!"
I reach up to grab the five different cereal boxes we have. Sad that we all like our own cereal, and none of us will even touch someone else's box.
"Ew!" I hear Lily squeal. "Mummy, James farted!"
James and Albus are laughing hysterically. Harry grins at me as I roll my eyes.
"Don't worry about it, Lils. It's time to eat anyways."
Lily comes out first, and she looks like she's going to freak out at any moment.
"They did the pull-my-finger thing again, Mum! I hate it when they do that!" Thanks, honey, I could tell by the expression on your face before you told me.
"Boys will be boys," I say with a sigh. "Next time, just threaten to put make-up on them, and all your problems will be solved.
"Thanks Mum!" Her face brightens as she contemplates that idea. Then...
"Will I be in trouble?" She looks really worried and I feel slightly bad for her. The fun of being the only girl.
"Not if you don't get caught," I lean down and whisper in her ear. She grins at me happily and gives the thumbs up. Her smile makes it all better. Almost.
I wish I was seven years old again, with little problems like brothers. Instead, I get to be just over 34 years old, with a party of torture today. Great.
Well, we're doing pretty well on the normal day front. Lily's annoyed, I'm grumpy, Harry's amused, and Al and James are giddy. If that's not a normal day, I don't know what is.
"We're having cereal?" James says in a disgusted voice as he looks at the table.
"I thought you like cereal!"
"I do, but Mum, it's almost lunch. You don't eat cereal for lunch."
"Well, we do. Eat it."
"I don't wanna." James crosses his arms, and Al looks at his brother, as if trying to decide what would be best to do.
By the expression on his face when he looks at me, I think he can definitely tell how annoyed I am. Al, being the smart kid he is, just takes a step back from his brother and smirks.
"James. Today is not the day." Weird, I'm not at the yelling stage yet. James is really bad at taking hints though.
"I won't eat it." I can tell by the set of his face that he won't, he has that blasted tenacity of his father's!
Unluckily for him, I have my own stubborn streak. And it's feeling very annoyed today.
"JAMES SIRIUS POTTER! YOU ARE GOING TO EAT THAT CEREAL AND ENJOY IT! IF YOU DON"T, I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU ANOTHER BOWL OF IT TO EAT AND YOU WILL EAT BOTH BEFORE YOU LEAVE THIS TABLE!"
Hmm. That feels much better. There was that nice rant that I was looking forward to when Harry came home, and he denied me of it. Oh well, at least we have a son who needs to be yelled at once in awhile. Merlin, I love James.
Lily and Albus are just smirking at their brother, who stands there staring at me in a slightly terrified way. They grab his arms, and push him into his seat at the table, and they sit down into their respective spots.
I, of course, have no time for trivial little things like food. I have brownies to remake!
I feel like Mum as I bustle around the kitchen.
Holy Merlin, this is every girl's worst nightmare! Becoming their mother.
Hell and damnation.
Though there isn't much I can really do about it today, I have far more important things to worry about like children and brownies and parties.
I can feel the kids watching me in awe as I move like a gazelle. Okay, more like an elephant, but still!
"Daddy, " Lily pipes up, obivously tired of the continuous staring, "will you teach me to be a seeker today? I wanna beat James!"
James glared at her, because he knew she would have an advantage once she got some idea of what to do because she was a lot smaller than him.
Girl power!
The brownie mix is finally done, and I put it in the oven. This time, I actually set a timer.
I know, big improvement.
I sit down at the table. Flop might be a more accurate description though. I take a bite of my cereal, and begin shoveling it down as they discuss Quidditch.
"What about you, Al? Seeker or Chaser?" Lily asks in that little curious voice she has that can be both annoying and cute, usually at the same time.
"Er..." He quickly glances at his father, as if to see his reaction. "I like Chaser better so... I'm thinking that I'll get Mum to help me with that sometime."
Ha! Victory! I give Harry the you-owe-me-10-galleons look.
I know, betting on our children is shameful. But it seems to be my only source of income these days, because I at least have that down to a science.
I can't wait until we can bet on their romantic lives. I'll definitely win on Lily's, because Harry will probably bet that she won't date til she's thirty. Um, she is our daughter!
Maybe he should try to be more like me. Then again, I don't really do anything other than mope around and pretend that I'm playing or watching the telly with them. Usually, I'm cat napping.
I'm lucky compared to others. I've always had that remarkable talent of looking like I'm there when I'm actually having these awesome dreams about our honeymoon in Jamaica...
Whoa, too much information!
I look at my watch. 11: 55 am.
1 hour and 5 minutes to go before judgement.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Hope you're enjoying it! Please review!