Child of my Heart by Analyn100
Chapter Two: Supsicious Minds
"Harry!" Ginny Potter called from the base of the stairs. No answer. Where could that man be? She had checked everywhere, but when she got to the bedroom, she also go her answer. His clothes were discarded on the bed and the sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom. Of course, shower time. He had been training and if he hurried he could get cleaned up before the arrival of…well the whole Potter/Weasley clan. Tonight was the Announcement Luncheon. But before the guests arrived, Ginny had to find the potions supplies that Lily had asked to borrow.
Deciding it would be faster to just get them herself, she turned around and headed towards the basement potions lab with her mother-in-law's list in hand. The door to the lab was heavily warded – had been ever since Ginny found about she was pregnant the first time. Ginny quickly shook her head as if to dispel the bad memories. Today was a joyous occasion, not one for bitter recollections. Ginny knew all of the passwords and spells and in a matter of seconds the door glowed red and swung open on its hinges. Shutting the door quietly behind her, she walked up to the huge oak cabinets, opening its double doors. Looking at the list of ingredients, Ginny scanned the shelves, but came up empty. That was odd, Lily had said Harry had been certain he had what she needed.
She tried the summoning spell. But instead of the bottles flying into her hands, the spell hit a small drawer but nothing happened. Ginny began working furiously to break the privacy and concealment charm on it. Convinced as she was that the spells were to keep dangerous ingredients from particularly talented and troublesome Weasley children such as Freddy and Victoire, she did not suspect anything was amiss.
She opened the drawer. The vials she had been searching for soared straight into her hands. Inside she found several other vials, as well as a small scroll of parchment. Unfurling it, she saw that it was in fact a miniature calendar with several dates circled. One of them oddly enough was labeled "Healer's Apt". It was from their visit three weeks ago. The date was starred. The weeks before that were labeled "vacation". Why was Harry hiding a calendar and potion supplies?
She turned around to look at Damien's old and tattered book lying on the work bench. It was the same one that Harry had given to him for his 14th birthday. He had borrowed it last week. It was the same book with which they had discovered that Harry's butterbeer drinks had been spiked with Sedare potion. Knowing Harry, he was trying to fix her a pepper-up potion. He'd been trying to figure out how to cheer her up for days, weeks in fact…except she didn't recognize half of his ingredients.
Curious, she began to add the ingredients into the book's bowl until the list of possible potions was narrowed down to one.
Harry sat down at the magically expanded table, filled to the brim with smiling faces and full stomachs. Everyone was enjoying themselves, everyone except…He turned a worried gaze to his wife, who was deliberately avoiding his eyes. But his weren't the only ones she was avoiding. She was also avoiding her 7-year-old niece, Vicky. He knew Fleur hated it, but the name Vicky had grown on him. She would always be little Vicky to him. As for Vicky's sister, 3 year-old sister Dominique, other than the fleeting hug on arrival, Ginny hadn't even acknowledged her. He was probably just over-reacting. Seeing the girls was probably making her mind wander to the future, something she had blatantly refused to do, but until today she hadn't taken out her fear on her nieces. Freddy had taken the brunt of Ginny's post-pregnancy hormones. She couldn't even look at him without thinking of her own son.
"So, Ginny, what's the occasion?" Damien piped up, leaning over the table to get a look at the couple.
"Occasion? What makes you think there's an occasion?"
"This." His eves traveled up and down the over-burdened table. "You never cook this much, even when we're all here. At least not since…" Harry shot him a warning look. He would have preferred to squash his brother's toes- much more discreet that way - but his brother's fiancée, Annie, was in the way. He gave her an apologetic smile – more like a grimace, really – before turning back around in his chair.
Excessive cooking had been one of Ginny's pregnancy projects last time. She had been determined to learn to cook better than her mum so her child would have the same fond kitchen-related memories that she had growing-up. Of course she had fallen way short of her goal, but Harry had been tactful enough not to mention that. She had improved greatly on her cooking skills, but beating Molly Weasley was still a goal no one in the family had managed to attain. In fact, Ginny had been the only one with the guts to aspire to that level.
Damien's face froze at the look on his brother's face, and instead turned his gaze back to his plate of lasagna. "So, is this the recipe that your twin gave you?" he asked in a brave attempt to change the subject, ignoring Annie's look of bewilderment. He'd explain later.
Ginny smiled. "Yes it is. He had his twin on the phone the whole time he was trying to cook it this morning. It took three different attempts to get it right, but he finally got it. That's my Harry, never gives up on anything."
"You didn't answer my question. What is the occasion?"
"No occasion, I just thought I haven't hosted Sunday lunch in a while and I thought I needed to make up for lost time, that's all."
Harry froze in an almost comical position with his fork halfway to his mouth. He could not have heard that right. No occasion? For the last week Ginny had spoken of nothing else other than her plans to surprise the family with the announcement of their little girl's impending arrival. She had even insisted on telling everyone at once because she didn't want to do it four times like she had before. It had taken him nearly a month to convince her to tell the family, but once she had agreed to it she had spoken of nothing else. He had seen the excitement building in her, in her eyes, in her smile. He vaguely wondered where it had gone, what had happened to bring on the sudden change in mood?
He continued to eat his food in silence, taking note of Ginny's not so subtle 'don't you dare say anything' headshake.
"Oh, Harry, did you get those ingredients for me? I wanted to try to change the flavor of a few potions." His mother's voice carried down the table even though he couldn't quite see her from all the way down there.
"We don't have them." Ginny spoke up, giving Harry an oddly strained smile. "I just went down to check and I didn't see any of them down there."
"You went down to my potions lab?" His voice was even and calm, but his panic was rising.
Ginny excused herself from the table and returned carrying a large book…a very familiar large book. "Damien, here you go. I found this in the potions lab. Apparently Harry forgot to give it back."
"You're done with it, already?" Damien asked, turning to his brother as he took the book back from Ginny and stowed it under his seat.
"Well actually I…"
"Yes, he's done with it." Ginny kept her voice light and pleasant but she wasn't smiling. She looked almost tense, almost as if she was waiting for him to say something.
Harry was very good at hiding his emotions. He had to be, but he was sure the whole family could hear his heart racing. Ginny had been in his potions lab? This was bad, very bad. Well maybe not too bad, she didn't sound…well she sounded angry but not too angry. But still, his wife's unblinking stare was starting to unnerve him.
Ginny just turned back to the lasagna, shaking her head, stabbing her salad with the fork with perhaps a little too much gusto.
It was almost three in the morning, and Harry Potter had woken up for the fourth time. It had been many years since he'd had this much trouble sleeping. His mind kept spinning, something was up with Ginny. She had been distant and cross with him since the lunch with the family. The meal had ended on an ordinary note: no hugging, kissing, back-slapping or celebration of any kind.
He'd try talking to her again in the morning. He turned over towards her empty side of the bed, sighing. She had gotten out of bed, taking her pillow with her a little after midnight. Ginny choosing to sleep on the couch was never a good sign. She must really be pissed off at him for…something. He had no idea what he'd done now. Figuring he was in for another lonely night, he reached for his baby name book and took out the leaflet of parchment that was serving as his list and bookmark. Ginny still refused to look at the book herself, the most she had done was cross names off of his list, so far it had been cut in half no less than three times. He was still scanning the F section, not finding anything that caught his eye, when he heard it: a crash, it sounded like broken glass.
He hurried downstairs, taking them two a time. What he saw upon entering the kitchen, however, stopped him cold in his tracks. Whatever he had been expecting, it had not been this.
There, leaning up against the pantry, was his wife. She heard him coming and turned around. The look on her face was not warm and welcoming. It wasn't even tired or annoyed. It was angry and hard, with an edge of steel. Her eyes narrowed as they met his, filled with anger and more than a little disappointment. His alarm grew by the second as he noticed for the first time what his wife was holding in her hand.
It was a firewhiskey bottle, and it was almost empty.
Locking eyes with her husband, she brought the bottle to her lips.