One-shot: Harry/Ginny, Neville/Hannah
Title: With a Little Help from Friends
Author: mollywheezy
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, Neville/Hannah
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~5300
Summary: Harry's and Ginny's jobs are making them tired and miserable. How will Neville's plant and George's invention help them?
Author Notes: Written for aggiebell90 for the 2011 takingitinturns. Due to real life drama, I only just remembered to post this. ;)
Ginny was soaked to the skin, freezing her arse off, and couldn't see the bloody snitch through all this rain. She hated playing Seeker! Hadn't she helped her team to victory in the Quidditch World Cup as a Chaser? Did she not hold the world record for most goals scored in a match? Of course, she only beat the former record by one goal, but still. When Gwenog had hired her as first-string Chaser, and reserve Seeker, she never thought she'd actually have to play Seeker! Especially after all these years . . .
Ginny continued circling the pitch looking for the damn stupid little ball. If she could just catch the bloody thing she could take a hot shower and defrost. She was cold, wet, and miserable. Why did she have to be pants at warming charms? Not that she was allowed a wand on the pitch, but couldn't the bloody charm have lasted? Was that . . . it was! A flash of gold! Ginny dove.
***
Harry was soaked to the skin, freezing his arse off, and would never see the bloody "Death Eater" through all this rain. He hated training exercises! They had caught all the real Death Eaters! Why in bloody hell did they still have to practice catching pretend ones? So the trainees could learn, yeah, yeah. So why did he have to be there? If there were ever a time he wanted to pull out the whole "Man-Who-Defeated-Voldemort" bollocks it was now. Third in the Department, youngest ever to be promoted so high so quickly, and where'd it get him? Cold, wet, and miserable, that's where. Why did he have to be pants at warming charms? He could cast them fine when he was inside, but once he was already wet he seemed unable to keep concentration . . . or something. He just wanted to go home, but that wouldn't happen for quite some time yet . . .
***
The sunlight hit Ginny's eyes causing her to roll over and stretch. Slowly opening her eyes to look at the clock on the nightstand, she sat straight up in bed. Bloody Hell! Ginny grabbed her wand, concentrated on the last Harpy win she and Harry celebrated, and sent a Patronus.
As she hurried through her routine, she wondered when she would see Harry again. She managed to be only an hour late for her regularly scheduled breakfast with Neville and Hannah. Sliding onto the barstool next to Neville, her stomach growled loudly.
Hannah heard Ginny's stomach from behind the bar and chuckled. "Your usual scone and coffee or do you want more than that today, Ginny?"
"I'm starving lately! Full English, please, Hannah. Thanks." Hannah nodded, flicking her wand at the kitchen to send in Ginny's order. "Why do you think you're so hungry, Ginny?"
"It's training for Seeker. Playing Seeker has always been more difficult and more exhausting than playing Chaser. With all the extra training for my weaker position, I'm constantly hungry, and so tired I can't even keep up with the housework."
"Why are they having you play Seeker when you do so wonderfully as a Chaser?"
"Our Seeker is pregnant with twins. She thought she could play the rest of the season, but she got so big so quickly that she couldn't fit into the protective gear anymore." Hannah nodded.
"Do the other teams' players mind that someone is wearing extra protective gear?" Neville asked.
"Not really. There's sort of a trade off. The gear prevents her from being hit by Bludgers anywhere that could harm the babies, but it also makes her slower, so it all evens out." Neville nodded.
Someone down the bar waved for Hannah, who excused herself. "I'll have your breakfast right out, Ginny."
"So Neville, what have you been doing since I saw you last?"
"I've been developing a new variety of plant. I haven't even named the variety yet, but that can come later. I still need more research . . ."
"Here you go, Ginny." Hannah set a huge amount of food in front of Ginny.
"Thanks, Hannah!" Ginny tucked in immediately, doing a good impression of Ron in how quickly she was eating. "How'd you haff time for reserge, Nebble, wid ever'ting else you do?"
Hannah rolled her eyes as she walked off to serve another customer.
"Well, I enjoy the research so it doesn't feel like work. And all of the potions ingredients I grow don't take that much time to cultivate. Getting them started was a lot of work, but now that they are, it's not hard to keep them going. Professor Sprout lets me have a greenhouse all to myself in exchange for overseeing the other Hogwarts' greenhouses. I really just keep an eye on things . . ." Neville shrugged. "I enjoy what I do."
Ginny nodded, her mouth still full.
Hannah returned again. "Neville, I had a thought . . . maybe you should give Ginny one of your new plants. It might be really helpful to her and Harry, especially if Ginny's been feeling peaky lately. The plant would at least help a little bit . . ."
"Great idea, love!" Neville beamed at Hannah. "Would you like a plant, Ginny?"
Ginny, her mouth too full to even attempt talking, shrugged, then nodded.
"This is only the fourth one, since they take a while to produce viable offspring. When I tried to take cuttings . . . well, let's just say that was almost a disaster. Let me know how your plant is doing, and I'd recommend giving her a name. Just tell me if anything unusual happens."
"Since I'll be on lock-down again for the Harpies' away games, I won't be home much to watch the plant. I'll leave a note for Harry, though." Ginny sighed.
"How long have you and Harry been apart?" Hannah asked. "That must be really difficult for both of you." Hannah scrubbed at a spill on the bar with a rag as she talked.
Ginny swallowed. "It is! I had a week long lock-down in the Harpies' dormitories because Gwenog worries about us losing focus if we go home between games." Ginny rolled her eyes. The day before I returned, Harry was gone for a week for a training exercise, then he had to leave immediately for some big case, so he's still gone. And I leave for another away game imprisonment in a few days. I'm tired of this! And it doesn't help that I'm exhausted and starving constantly from all the extra training."
Hannah patted Ginny's hand. "Neville's plant will help, at least a bit."
Ginny wasn't sure how a plant could help her, unless it was ground up in an Energy Elixir, which of course was against the rules for professional Quidditch players, but she didn't pursue the matter.
***
It was very late when Harry Apparated into the vestibule of his home. Since Ginny was on "imprisoned with the Harpies" as she called it, he wouldn't be able to see her, but at least he could sleep in his own bed. Finally. Between the training exercise and this bloody case he'd been gone far too long. Harry removed his cloak, hanging it on the hook for that purpose, and walked towards the bedroom. After two steps, he fell flat on his face.
"Bloody hell!" Harry swore loudly. "Lumos!" As Harry slowly struggled to his feet, he shone his wand light around to see what had tripped him.
"What the . . .?" Harry saw a large vine crossing the entryway. He followed it into the kitchen and discovered a very strange plant on the table, with vines stretching out in every direction. There was a note labeled "Harry" in Ginny's handwriting leaning against the plant's pot. Harry opened the envelope.
Dear Harry,
Muriel (the plant) is a gift from Neville. He bred this type of plant, which apparently does something unusual and helpful, although I haven't been home long enough to discover what yet. Since the plant is experimental, Neville said to let him know immediately if anything odd happens.
I miss you Harry. I'm tired of being away from you. We haven't been apart for this long since my last year of Hogwarts, and I hate it. I hope you catch whoever it is you're trying to catch quickly, and we can celebrate properly when I get home from my 'Harpy prison.' I love you!
Love,
Ginny
Harry ran a hand over his face. Would large vines crossing rooms of his home be considered "odd"? Harry thought so. He removed the wards on the house, concentrated on "celebrating" with Ginny, and sent his Patronus to Neville.
In just a few minutes, Neville Apparated into Harry and Ginny's kitchen wearing his dressing gown. "Hi Harry," Neville yawned. "Wow! That's really fascinating!" Neville prodded one of the vines with his finger.
"What is the plant supposed to do anyway?"
"Well, I'd really prefer for you and Ginny to see for yourselves . . ."
"Neville, it's two in the morning."
"She eats house dust."
"What?"
"I genetically engineered a plant to eat house dust. The vines come out at night and cover the space, and then retract in the morning. This is really interesting though, that Muriel's vines are across the floor. Mabel's vines, Hannah's plant," Neville responded to Harry's questioning look, "go across the ceiling. Of course, our flat at the Leaky Cauldron isn't anywhere as big as your house, and Hannah moves Mabel around to the guest rooms to clean those . . ." Neville was deep in thought.
"Neville, you're brilliant! You mean Ginny and I won't have to dust anymore because the plant will do it for us?"
"That's the idea, yes. I'm sorry I didn't warn you and Ginny about the vines, but I didn't think they'd be a tripping hazard."
"That's all right. I'll know now to be more careful where I step when I come home in the middle of the night."
Neville chuckled. "I know you've been gone a long time, so I'll let you get some rest. Breakfast tomorrow?"
"I don't have to go to the Ministry until afternoon, and I'm knackered. Let's make it lunch."
Harry arrived at The Leaky Cauldron the next day and found Neville sitting in a back booth.
"Hi Neville, Muriel's great! There's not a speck of dust anywhere, and since neither Ginny nor I has had time to clean, it certainly isn't because of us." Harry grinned as he joined Neville.
Neville grinned back. "Would you have noticed if I hadn't told you?"
"Definitely. There are dishes in the sink, and the laundry's piling up, but there isn't a speck of dust anywhere. That's noticeable."
Neville nodded.
"How did you come up with a dust-eating plant anyway?"
"Well, at Hannah's suggestion, I've been doing a lot of research into Muggle methods of breeding plants, and I found this article written by a person in Texas who was breeding particular traits into sorghum plants, so it made me wonder if I could do that, you know? Breed plants to have particular desirable traits. So I wrote to the author of the article, but he didn't respond."
"That was rude of him!"
Neville shrugged. "A bit, but Hannah had a great idea that worked out really well. She checked the footnotes where the technician was mentioned, so I wrote to her instead, and we've been corresponding. She's suggested all sorts of resources and ideas for techniques, and when I've combined that information with Magical Herbology, well . . . it's worked pretty well."
"I'd say breeding a plant that eats dust is more than working pretty well, Neville. That's brilliant!"
"Well, I couldn't have done it without Julie . . . the technician. Hannah suggested that I either name the plant after her or let her come up with whatever name she wants, so I wrote her and asked which she would prefer."
"That's a good idea! Naming the plant after her is certainly better than just getting a footnote. How is that even fair?"
"Well, apparently Muggles have levels of higher education and if you have the highest degree you get to make the rules. It'd be like if Professor Sprout had her seventh years do a project, and then she wrote about it and got all of the credit and they got a footnote."
"That's not right!"
"I don't think so, either, but Hermione said it's the way Muggles do things a lot of the time." Neville shrugged. "Julie may not get proper credit from the Muggles, but she will when I write an article about the new plant. I couldn't have done it without all the information she gave me. Only problem is, I'm not allowed to tell her about magic unfortunately, but Hermione offered to help me write an article that didn't mention magic. I don’t know how that's possible . . . Maybe I can just give her a plant and not write an article. I don't know how I'd give her a plant without telling her about magic, though . . ."
"Well, whatever you do, you'll be raking in the Galleons! Everyone will want a plant that eats dust."
"Well, I don't know if I'll really make that much money. I can't take cuttings to make a new plant. It doesn't work. Each plant has to decide to reproduce itself, so mass production is not going to be possible. And I don't know how often the second generation plants will reproduce. There's still a lot more research needed . . ."
"It'll all work out somehow. So how's Hannah been doing? Any more news on when you'll be able to buy The Leaky?"
"Hannah was promoted to manager, but it will be awhile before we can afford it, but that's all right, since we're happy. When does Ginny get back?"
"She has a game tonight which concludes their lock-down. Then she'll have some time off. I just have to run by the Ministry for a bit, finish some paperwork, and then I have some time off, too, so I'll go to the game and surprise her."
Neville chuckled, "I take it Hannah and I won't see the two of you for awhile?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
***
Ginny scanned the pitch looking for the Snitch. If she caught it quickly, she could win the game and the Harpies would go to the play-offs. If not, well . . . the Chasers seemed to be having a bad day. Ginny ached to be Chasing, but she would not let her team down. She'd catch the bloody Snitch!
Ginny saw a glint of gold across the field, and dove. Before she reached the glint, she felt horrific pain, the world went black, and she knew no more.
***
After finishing up his paperwork at the Ministry, Harry was a bit late for the game. He was working his way through the crowd to get to the box reserved for players' families, when he heard Lee Jordan announce, "Potter is going for the Snitch!"
Harry left the steps and ran out to the landing where he could see the pitch. He watched Ginny execute a flawless dive at lightning speed, but before she reached the Snitch, a Bludger crashed into Ginny's shoulder, knocking her from the broom. Harry gasped as he watched Ginny fall. Thankfully one Team Healer slowed her fall while another conjured a stretcher under her. Harry stared at the scene, unable to move. Finally, he snapped out of his stupor, and began running back down the stairs, heading for the Harpies' First Aid room.
With both his Auror Identification Badge and his Harpies' Spouse Pin, Harry was not at all delayed by security. He quickly arrived at the First Aid room to find George by himself, frantically waving his wand and swearing when nothing happened.
"George?"
George spun around. "Harry! I didn't know you were here. I was trying to send you a Patronus . . ."
"I got here just in time to see Ginny get hurt. Where is she?"
"The Team Healers waved their wands a few times, said they couldn't treat her here, and took her to St. Mungo's. Ron went with her. They've left the Floo active in case I managed to find you, so let's go!"
Harry nodded and followed George into the fireplace.
They quickly found Ginny in a bed with a Healer examining her while Ron held one of her hands.
"Ginny!" Harry ran to her, clasping her other hand.
George conjured a cushioned purple and orange striped chair, and said, "Harry! You're whiter than Nearly Headless Nick. Sit down before you pass out, mate."
As Harry gratefully sank into the chair, Ron said, "When did you get back, Harry?"
"Very late last night. I wanted to surprise Ginny today . . ."
"She will be very glad to see you when she awakens, Mr Potter," the Healer said.
"Is she going to be all right? Why is she unconscious if the Bludger only hit her shoulder?"
"We are still running tests, Mr Potter." The Healer bustled off after waving her wand over Ginny a few more times.
"She'll be OK, mate. She's strong," Ron whispered.
George, who was now perched on the bed by Ginny's feet, said, "Here, Ron, you look as peaky as Harry." George waved his wand conjuring a pink ruffled chair for Ron. Harry snorted, and Ron rolled his eyes but sat in the chair.
***
Ginny felt herself waking up slowly, but she didn't want to open her eyes. Why did she hurt everywhere, and where in Merlin's name was she, anyway? She heard several deep voices talking quietly near her, and a bit farther away, someone was bustling about. Ginny turned her head to the right, towards the bustling noise, and half-opened one eye. She saw pink and orange, so closed her eye again. She tried the other direction, thinking maybe it would be better.
When Ginny moved her head to the left, she had a sharp pang in her shoulder. She gasped a bit, unable to lift her head, she partially opened one eye and looked down. Someone was holding her hand. The warm hand clasping hers had fine white scars spelling out "I must not tell lies."
"Harry?" Ginny croaked.
"You're awake! How do you feel, love?"
Ginny opened both eyes fully, and saw Harry's worried green eyes staring into hers. She smiled. "I'm very achy, but very glad to see you."
"I'm glad to see you, too." Unconcerned that Ron and George were sitting right there, Harry leaned forward to kiss Ginny. Their kiss began softly and slowly, but quickly deepened becoming far too heated considering that Harry and Ginny were not alone.
Ron cleared his throat, and Ginny and Harry pulled apart, but remained close together staring into each other's eyes.
"Do you think this flimsy hospital bed would support us both?" Ginny asked. Harry laughed.
"Oi!" Ron exclaimed, "It's bad enough you snog in front of us. You can shag later, when George and I don't have to watch." Harry and Ginny both rolled their eyes, and Harry sat back in his chair, still holding Ginny's hand.
"We're glad you're awake, Ginnikins. That was scary."
"It certainly was," Harry agreed. "What's taking the Healer so long?" Everyone shrugged, and continued to wait in nervous silence.
George lifted the blanket off Ginny's feet, grabbed her big toe, and grinning, exclaimed, "Got yer toe!"
"Aren't we too old for that game, George?"
"Too old for 'Got Yer Toe'? Never! Perish the thought!"
Ginny giggled.
"There's the reaction I was going for!" George grinned at Ginny, and releasing her toe ran his finger along the bottom of her foot.
Ginny kicked, missing George's head only because of his quick reflexes. "Try that again, and I will kick you somewhere important."
Harry and Ron laughed as George pretended to cower in fear, carefully covering Ginny's foot with the blanket again.
"Mrs Potter! We're glad to see you awake." The Healer returned. "Mr Weasley, Mr Weasley, if the two of you would please excuse us, I need to talk to Mr and Mrs Potter."
"Can't we stay?" Ron asked, still holding Ginny's hand.
Ginny spoke up, "I'll tell Ron and George whatever you say anyway, so they might as well stay."
George grinned rakishly at the Healer.
"Very well."
"Didn't Ginny just break her shoulder?" Harry asked. "Why did she have to come to St. Mungo's? The Harpies' Healers usually take care of her when she's injured."
"Mrs Potter has a broken clavicle, actually." The Healer pointed to her own clavicle. "As for the reason for the transfer . . . Mrs Potter cannot take the usual potions. The Harpies' Healers lacked the proper resources in their First Aid room, so we are brewing special ones for her."
Harry's questioning look was mirrored on the faces of Ginny, Ron, and George.
The Healer smiled. "I have some good news for you, Mr and Mrs Potter. The reason Mrs Potter needs special potions is because she's pregnant."
"WHAT?!" Harry, Ginny, Ron, and George all exclaimed.
The Healer chuckled. "Twelve weeks by our calculations. Congratulations."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron whined.
"I didn't know," Ginny answered.
"Twelve weeks is three months, Gin," George stated. "You must have at least suspected . . ."
"Oh, my periods usually stop when I'm training hard. It's very common among professional players, so I didn't think anything of it."
"That's more than I needed to know," George replied. Ron just turned a bit green.
"Don't ask the question if you don't want the answer," Ginny smirked.
Harry laughed, "You two are the ones who wanted to stay."
"I guess that explains why I've been so tired lately. I thought it was just how hard I was training?"
"Yes, it certainly would explain your being tired. I will leave you to talk while I go check your potions. It won't be too much longer."
"Is there anything I could have for pain while the potions are brewing?"
"I'll bring you an ice pack, Mrs Potter."
"Could she use this?" George pulled what looked like a large square of gelatin out of his pocket and started bending it. It turned blue, and George handed it to the Healer.
"What is this?" she asked, taking it.
"It's a new prototype I'm working on. If you bend it one way, it's cold, and the other way it's warm. I was thinking it'd be useful for picnics to keep cold food cold or hot food hot, but when you mentioned an ice pack, this might be less messy . . ." George shrugged.
"This is quite brilliant, Mr Weasley! Yes, that will be fine for Mrs Potter to use." The healer placed the blue square over Ginny's injury.
"That feels better, thanks!" Ginny smiled at the Healer and her brother.
"I'll bring those potions as soon as I can, Mrs Potter." The Healer left.
"This is brilliant, George. Much better than an ice pack."
Harry gently poked at the gelatin square on Ginny's shoulder. "You said this thing can be hot or cold?"
"Yes, why?"
"Would it be something that I could carry with me on field missions to stay warm?"
"What a great idea, Harry! I hadn't even thought of that use!"
"I bet Quidditch players could use it to keep warm in the winter and cool in the summer, too. We aren't allowed wands, so these things would be brilliant!"
"Brilliant, Gin! And here I thought pregnancy hormones were supposed to make your brain go wonky." George winked at Ginny.
Ginny stuck her tongue out at George. "How would you know about pregnancy hormones? I'm not even sure I know about pregnancy hormones, and I'm the one who's pregnant."
"I'm sure Hermione has several books on pregnancy she'd be glad to lend you."
"Something you aren't telling us, ickle Ronnikins?"
"Nah, you know Hermione. She has books about everything," Ron declared proudly.
"George still hasn't answered my question."
George shrugged, but didn't say anything.
"Your ears are getting red!" Ron exclaimed. "Is Angelina . . ."
"Not yet, but we're thinking about it, so I've been doing some reading."
"Since when are you channeling Hermione, George?"
"There's nothing wrong with being prepared."
"You all right, Harry?"
Harry was staring off into space.
"Hey Harry, mate!"
Harry still said nothing.
"Harry?" Ginny squeezed Harry's hand more tightly.
"Huh?"
Ginny gingerly turned more towards Harry, still holding his hand and caressing his arm with her other hand. "You OK, love?"
"Yeah," Harry breathed in wonder. "It's just . . . I'm going to be a dad."
George nodded wisely. "That's generally what happens when one's wife is pregnant."
Ginny and Ron laughed. Harry managed to snort quietly.
"It's just . . . I don't even remember my dad. I mean, your dad is Dad now, and he's always been like a father to me, but like a father isn't really, you know? I just want to be a good dad."
"Love, you already are are good dad."
Harry quirked an eyebrow as he looked at Ginny.
"To Teddy."
"But I'm not . . ."
"Yes. You are. You may not be his father, but you are his dad."
"I never thought of it that way."
"And besides, mate, you're all of our nieces' favorite uncle," Ron added.
"No, I'm not!"
"You are, Harry," George chimed in. "I might have a shot at 'favored uncle status' when Victoire, Dominique, Molly, and Lucy are old enough for Wheezes, but right now? They are all about Uncle Harry."
Ginny laughed. "You know, I just thought of something. As the first Weasley female in seven generations, I must have started a trend. We don't have any nephews!"
Harry, Ron, and George laughed.
"True, that," Ron agreed. "You and Harry will need to have a son. Maybe you could name him Fred . . ."
"Absolutely NOT!" George shouted. "I will be naming my son Fred. Fred was my twin so I have dibs on the name!"
Harry laughed. "Not a problem, George. If we have a boy we won't name him Fred."
George nodded, satisfied.
"What will you name him?" Ron asked.
"I don’t know. I never thought of baby names before . . ."
"I think you have a while to decide," George said.
"True," Ginny acquiesced, "But we might as well pass the time until the Healer gets back with my potions."
"Your pain doing better, love?"
"Yes. George's Wheeze is really helping." Ginny smiled at her brother. "What about James?"
"Who's James?" Ron asked.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "As a name for the baby if it's a boy."
"You'd want to name our son after my dad?"
"Of course."
"I like it. How about James Sirius?"
"James Sirius. That works well. We've got a boy's name sorted, what if our little one is continuing in the trend of this generation of Weasleys and is a girl?"
"Well, if we're naming a boy James, how about Lily for a girl?"
"I like Lily," Ginny smiled at Harry. "How about a middle name?"
"Andromeda?"
"Lily Andromeda Potter," George said. "She'd have initials L-A-P. Lap. You’d have a daughter with initials that spell 'lap'. Not a good idea."
"Why does it matter what her initials spell?" Harry wondered.
"I'm not sure the initials matter," Ginny said, "But I agree with George. I don't like Andromeda as a middle name. What about Tonks?"
"Lily Tonks Potter. I don’t think so," Harry said.
"What about Nymphadora?" Ron asked.
"No!" Harry and Ginny said together.
George laughed, then offered, "What about Hermione?"
"What about her?" Ron asked.
"As a middle name for Ginny and Harry's baby if it's a girl," George clarified.
"That's a nice thought, but I was thinking Hermione and I might use 'Hermione' as a middle name if we ever have a daughter."
"Can cousins not have the same middle name?" Harry asked.
Ginny answered, "I think there are enough names available that our child's name can be unique at least within our family."
"Well, Percy already took Molly, so if we want to be different . . ."
"What about Freddia?" Ron asked.
Harry, Ginny, and George laughed.
"What?! George could have a son with a first name of Fred, and you could have a daughter with a middle name of Freddia!"
"Is Freddia even a real name?" Harry asked.
"Why's it matter?" Ron huffed. "I like it."
"Then you can give your daughter 'Freddia' as a middle name, Ron," Ginny chortled.
Ron let go of Ginny's hand, crossed his arms, and pouted.
"Oh come on, Ron, "Ginny cajoled, "Don’t be like that." Ron huffed but picked up Ginny's hand again.
"What about Lily Luna?" Harry suggested.
"Lily Luna. I like it!" Ginny enthused.
"You want to name your child after Loony Lovegood?" George asked.
"For your information, George, Luna is one of my closest friends."
"And she fought in battles three years in a row," Harry added.
"And she's funny, as well as compassionate," Ron said. "She did the best Quidditch commentary ever and managed to look after Ollivander in the Malfoy's dungeon."
"OK, OK, I was just joking," George backpedaled. "Luna is wonderful and loving and brilliant and the perfect person to name your child after."
"So we have names for our baby whether it’s a boy or a girl," Ginny said.
"That took all of five minutes," George griped. "Now what?"
"You know, George, you don't have to stay if you are so bored."
"I'll stay, Ginnikins, I didn't mean it like that."
"When are you going to tell the rest of the family about your pregnancy?"
"Sunday dinner," Harry answered Ron. "We need time to think about things ourselves."
"You mean you need time to catch up on shagging," George laughed.
"George!" Ginny scolded.
At the same time Harry said, "So what if we do? We're married and haven't seen each other for a month. Deal with it!"
The Healer returned saying, "Mrs Potter's shoulder injury will not impede sexual activity in the slightest. As long as she wants to and is not experiencing pain, you are free to do whatever you like."
Harry blushed, but couldn't help grinning.
"I have your potions, Mrs Potter. Drink them, we'll check your clavicle, and then you will be free to go."
"Free to go and shag like rabbits," George muttered.
Ginny glared at him.
***
Harry checked Ginny out of St. Mungo's and side-along Apparated her home. When they arrived in the entrance Hall of Grimmauld Place, Harry held Ginny tightly, lit his wand, and examined their surroundings before proceeding.
"Ah, Muriel's vines are out. Be careful not to step on her. We don’t want any more trips to St. Mungo's," Harry said.
"Muriel's vines?" Ginny looked around in the light from Harry's wand. "What in Merlin's name . . ."
"I contacted Neville. Muriel's vines come out at night and she eats house dust. We'll never have to dust again."
"Bloody brilliant!" Ginny exclaimed.
"Definitely," Harry agreed. "You know what's even more brilliant?"
"What?"
"Neither of us has to go to work for the next several days, and I plan to spend all of them in bed with you."
Ginny purred, "What a lovely thought!"
Author: mollywheezy
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, Neville/Hannah
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~5300
Summary: Harry's and Ginny's jobs are making them tired and miserable. How will Neville's plant and George's invention help them?
Author Notes: Written for aggiebell90 for the 2011 takingitinturns. Due to real life drama, I only just remembered to post this. ;)
Ginny was soaked to the skin, freezing her arse off, and couldn't see the bloody snitch through all this rain. She hated playing Seeker! Hadn't she helped her team to victory in the Quidditch World Cup as a Chaser? Did she not hold the world record for most goals scored in a match? Of course, she only beat the former record by one goal, but still. When Gwenog had hired her as first-string Chaser, and reserve Seeker, she never thought she'd actually have to play Seeker! Especially after all these years . . .
Ginny continued circling the pitch looking for the damn stupid little ball. If she could just catch the bloody thing she could take a hot shower and defrost. She was cold, wet, and miserable. Why did she have to be pants at warming charms? Not that she was allowed a wand on the pitch, but couldn't the bloody charm have lasted? Was that . . . it was! A flash of gold! Ginny dove.
***
Harry was soaked to the skin, freezing his arse off, and would never see the bloody "Death Eater" through all this rain. He hated training exercises! They had caught all the real Death Eaters! Why in bloody hell did they still have to practice catching pretend ones? So the trainees could learn, yeah, yeah. So why did he have to be there? If there were ever a time he wanted to pull out the whole "Man-Who-Defeated-Voldemort" bollocks it was now. Third in the Department, youngest ever to be promoted so high so quickly, and where'd it get him? Cold, wet, and miserable, that's where. Why did he have to be pants at warming charms? He could cast them fine when he was inside, but once he was already wet he seemed unable to keep concentration . . . or something. He just wanted to go home, but that wouldn't happen for quite some time yet . . .
***
The sunlight hit Ginny's eyes causing her to roll over and stretch. Slowly opening her eyes to look at the clock on the nightstand, she sat straight up in bed. Bloody Hell! Ginny grabbed her wand, concentrated on the last Harpy win she and Harry celebrated, and sent a Patronus.
As she hurried through her routine, she wondered when she would see Harry again. She managed to be only an hour late for her regularly scheduled breakfast with Neville and Hannah. Sliding onto the barstool next to Neville, her stomach growled loudly.
Hannah heard Ginny's stomach from behind the bar and chuckled. "Your usual scone and coffee or do you want more than that today, Ginny?"
"I'm starving lately! Full English, please, Hannah. Thanks." Hannah nodded, flicking her wand at the kitchen to send in Ginny's order. "Why do you think you're so hungry, Ginny?"
"It's training for Seeker. Playing Seeker has always been more difficult and more exhausting than playing Chaser. With all the extra training for my weaker position, I'm constantly hungry, and so tired I can't even keep up with the housework."
"Why are they having you play Seeker when you do so wonderfully as a Chaser?"
"Our Seeker is pregnant with twins. She thought she could play the rest of the season, but she got so big so quickly that she couldn't fit into the protective gear anymore." Hannah nodded.
"Do the other teams' players mind that someone is wearing extra protective gear?" Neville asked.
"Not really. There's sort of a trade off. The gear prevents her from being hit by Bludgers anywhere that could harm the babies, but it also makes her slower, so it all evens out." Neville nodded.
Someone down the bar waved for Hannah, who excused herself. "I'll have your breakfast right out, Ginny."
"So Neville, what have you been doing since I saw you last?"
"I've been developing a new variety of plant. I haven't even named the variety yet, but that can come later. I still need more research . . ."
"Here you go, Ginny." Hannah set a huge amount of food in front of Ginny.
"Thanks, Hannah!" Ginny tucked in immediately, doing a good impression of Ron in how quickly she was eating. "How'd you haff time for reserge, Nebble, wid ever'ting else you do?"
Hannah rolled her eyes as she walked off to serve another customer.
"Well, I enjoy the research so it doesn't feel like work. And all of the potions ingredients I grow don't take that much time to cultivate. Getting them started was a lot of work, but now that they are, it's not hard to keep them going. Professor Sprout lets me have a greenhouse all to myself in exchange for overseeing the other Hogwarts' greenhouses. I really just keep an eye on things . . ." Neville shrugged. "I enjoy what I do."
Ginny nodded, her mouth still full.
Hannah returned again. "Neville, I had a thought . . . maybe you should give Ginny one of your new plants. It might be really helpful to her and Harry, especially if Ginny's been feeling peaky lately. The plant would at least help a little bit . . ."
"Great idea, love!" Neville beamed at Hannah. "Would you like a plant, Ginny?"
Ginny, her mouth too full to even attempt talking, shrugged, then nodded.
"This is only the fourth one, since they take a while to produce viable offspring. When I tried to take cuttings . . . well, let's just say that was almost a disaster. Let me know how your plant is doing, and I'd recommend giving her a name. Just tell me if anything unusual happens."
"Since I'll be on lock-down again for the Harpies' away games, I won't be home much to watch the plant. I'll leave a note for Harry, though." Ginny sighed.
"How long have you and Harry been apart?" Hannah asked. "That must be really difficult for both of you." Hannah scrubbed at a spill on the bar with a rag as she talked.
Ginny swallowed. "It is! I had a week long lock-down in the Harpies' dormitories because Gwenog worries about us losing focus if we go home between games." Ginny rolled her eyes. The day before I returned, Harry was gone for a week for a training exercise, then he had to leave immediately for some big case, so he's still gone. And I leave for another away game imprisonment in a few days. I'm tired of this! And it doesn't help that I'm exhausted and starving constantly from all the extra training."
Hannah patted Ginny's hand. "Neville's plant will help, at least a bit."
Ginny wasn't sure how a plant could help her, unless it was ground up in an Energy Elixir, which of course was against the rules for professional Quidditch players, but she didn't pursue the matter.
***
It was very late when Harry Apparated into the vestibule of his home. Since Ginny was on "imprisoned with the Harpies" as she called it, he wouldn't be able to see her, but at least he could sleep in his own bed. Finally. Between the training exercise and this bloody case he'd been gone far too long. Harry removed his cloak, hanging it on the hook for that purpose, and walked towards the bedroom. After two steps, he fell flat on his face.
"Bloody hell!" Harry swore loudly. "Lumos!" As Harry slowly struggled to his feet, he shone his wand light around to see what had tripped him.
"What the . . .?" Harry saw a large vine crossing the entryway. He followed it into the kitchen and discovered a very strange plant on the table, with vines stretching out in every direction. There was a note labeled "Harry" in Ginny's handwriting leaning against the plant's pot. Harry opened the envelope.
Dear Harry,
Muriel (the plant) is a gift from Neville. He bred this type of plant, which apparently does something unusual and helpful, although I haven't been home long enough to discover what yet. Since the plant is experimental, Neville said to let him know immediately if anything odd happens.
I miss you Harry. I'm tired of being away from you. We haven't been apart for this long since my last year of Hogwarts, and I hate it. I hope you catch whoever it is you're trying to catch quickly, and we can celebrate properly when I get home from my 'Harpy prison.' I love you!
Love,
Ginny
Harry ran a hand over his face. Would large vines crossing rooms of his home be considered "odd"? Harry thought so. He removed the wards on the house, concentrated on "celebrating" with Ginny, and sent his Patronus to Neville.
In just a few minutes, Neville Apparated into Harry and Ginny's kitchen wearing his dressing gown. "Hi Harry," Neville yawned. "Wow! That's really fascinating!" Neville prodded one of the vines with his finger.
"What is the plant supposed to do anyway?"
"Well, I'd really prefer for you and Ginny to see for yourselves . . ."
"Neville, it's two in the morning."
"She eats house dust."
"What?"
"I genetically engineered a plant to eat house dust. The vines come out at night and cover the space, and then retract in the morning. This is really interesting though, that Muriel's vines are across the floor. Mabel's vines, Hannah's plant," Neville responded to Harry's questioning look, "go across the ceiling. Of course, our flat at the Leaky Cauldron isn't anywhere as big as your house, and Hannah moves Mabel around to the guest rooms to clean those . . ." Neville was deep in thought.
"Neville, you're brilliant! You mean Ginny and I won't have to dust anymore because the plant will do it for us?"
"That's the idea, yes. I'm sorry I didn't warn you and Ginny about the vines, but I didn't think they'd be a tripping hazard."
"That's all right. I'll know now to be more careful where I step when I come home in the middle of the night."
Neville chuckled. "I know you've been gone a long time, so I'll let you get some rest. Breakfast tomorrow?"
"I don't have to go to the Ministry until afternoon, and I'm knackered. Let's make it lunch."
Harry arrived at The Leaky Cauldron the next day and found Neville sitting in a back booth.
"Hi Neville, Muriel's great! There's not a speck of dust anywhere, and since neither Ginny nor I has had time to clean, it certainly isn't because of us." Harry grinned as he joined Neville.
Neville grinned back. "Would you have noticed if I hadn't told you?"
"Definitely. There are dishes in the sink, and the laundry's piling up, but there isn't a speck of dust anywhere. That's noticeable."
Neville nodded.
"How did you come up with a dust-eating plant anyway?"
"Well, at Hannah's suggestion, I've been doing a lot of research into Muggle methods of breeding plants, and I found this article written by a person in Texas who was breeding particular traits into sorghum plants, so it made me wonder if I could do that, you know? Breed plants to have particular desirable traits. So I wrote to the author of the article, but he didn't respond."
"That was rude of him!"
Neville shrugged. "A bit, but Hannah had a great idea that worked out really well. She checked the footnotes where the technician was mentioned, so I wrote to her instead, and we've been corresponding. She's suggested all sorts of resources and ideas for techniques, and when I've combined that information with Magical Herbology, well . . . it's worked pretty well."
"I'd say breeding a plant that eats dust is more than working pretty well, Neville. That's brilliant!"
"Well, I couldn't have done it without Julie . . . the technician. Hannah suggested that I either name the plant after her or let her come up with whatever name she wants, so I wrote her and asked which she would prefer."
"That's a good idea! Naming the plant after her is certainly better than just getting a footnote. How is that even fair?"
"Well, apparently Muggles have levels of higher education and if you have the highest degree you get to make the rules. It'd be like if Professor Sprout had her seventh years do a project, and then she wrote about it and got all of the credit and they got a footnote."
"That's not right!"
"I don't think so, either, but Hermione said it's the way Muggles do things a lot of the time." Neville shrugged. "Julie may not get proper credit from the Muggles, but she will when I write an article about the new plant. I couldn't have done it without all the information she gave me. Only problem is, I'm not allowed to tell her about magic unfortunately, but Hermione offered to help me write an article that didn't mention magic. I don’t know how that's possible . . . Maybe I can just give her a plant and not write an article. I don't know how I'd give her a plant without telling her about magic, though . . ."
"Well, whatever you do, you'll be raking in the Galleons! Everyone will want a plant that eats dust."
"Well, I don't know if I'll really make that much money. I can't take cuttings to make a new plant. It doesn't work. Each plant has to decide to reproduce itself, so mass production is not going to be possible. And I don't know how often the second generation plants will reproduce. There's still a lot more research needed . . ."
"It'll all work out somehow. So how's Hannah been doing? Any more news on when you'll be able to buy The Leaky?"
"Hannah was promoted to manager, but it will be awhile before we can afford it, but that's all right, since we're happy. When does Ginny get back?"
"She has a game tonight which concludes their lock-down. Then she'll have some time off. I just have to run by the Ministry for a bit, finish some paperwork, and then I have some time off, too, so I'll go to the game and surprise her."
Neville chuckled, "I take it Hannah and I won't see the two of you for awhile?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
***
Ginny scanned the pitch looking for the Snitch. If she caught it quickly, she could win the game and the Harpies would go to the play-offs. If not, well . . . the Chasers seemed to be having a bad day. Ginny ached to be Chasing, but she would not let her team down. She'd catch the bloody Snitch!
Ginny saw a glint of gold across the field, and dove. Before she reached the glint, she felt horrific pain, the world went black, and she knew no more.
***
After finishing up his paperwork at the Ministry, Harry was a bit late for the game. He was working his way through the crowd to get to the box reserved for players' families, when he heard Lee Jordan announce, "Potter is going for the Snitch!"
Harry left the steps and ran out to the landing where he could see the pitch. He watched Ginny execute a flawless dive at lightning speed, but before she reached the Snitch, a Bludger crashed into Ginny's shoulder, knocking her from the broom. Harry gasped as he watched Ginny fall. Thankfully one Team Healer slowed her fall while another conjured a stretcher under her. Harry stared at the scene, unable to move. Finally, he snapped out of his stupor, and began running back down the stairs, heading for the Harpies' First Aid room.
With both his Auror Identification Badge and his Harpies' Spouse Pin, Harry was not at all delayed by security. He quickly arrived at the First Aid room to find George by himself, frantically waving his wand and swearing when nothing happened.
"George?"
George spun around. "Harry! I didn't know you were here. I was trying to send you a Patronus . . ."
"I got here just in time to see Ginny get hurt. Where is she?"
"The Team Healers waved their wands a few times, said they couldn't treat her here, and took her to St. Mungo's. Ron went with her. They've left the Floo active in case I managed to find you, so let's go!"
Harry nodded and followed George into the fireplace.
They quickly found Ginny in a bed with a Healer examining her while Ron held one of her hands.
"Ginny!" Harry ran to her, clasping her other hand.
George conjured a cushioned purple and orange striped chair, and said, "Harry! You're whiter than Nearly Headless Nick. Sit down before you pass out, mate."
As Harry gratefully sank into the chair, Ron said, "When did you get back, Harry?"
"Very late last night. I wanted to surprise Ginny today . . ."
"She will be very glad to see you when she awakens, Mr Potter," the Healer said.
"Is she going to be all right? Why is she unconscious if the Bludger only hit her shoulder?"
"We are still running tests, Mr Potter." The Healer bustled off after waving her wand over Ginny a few more times.
"She'll be OK, mate. She's strong," Ron whispered.
George, who was now perched on the bed by Ginny's feet, said, "Here, Ron, you look as peaky as Harry." George waved his wand conjuring a pink ruffled chair for Ron. Harry snorted, and Ron rolled his eyes but sat in the chair.
***
Ginny felt herself waking up slowly, but she didn't want to open her eyes. Why did she hurt everywhere, and where in Merlin's name was she, anyway? She heard several deep voices talking quietly near her, and a bit farther away, someone was bustling about. Ginny turned her head to the right, towards the bustling noise, and half-opened one eye. She saw pink and orange, so closed her eye again. She tried the other direction, thinking maybe it would be better.
When Ginny moved her head to the left, she had a sharp pang in her shoulder. She gasped a bit, unable to lift her head, she partially opened one eye and looked down. Someone was holding her hand. The warm hand clasping hers had fine white scars spelling out "I must not tell lies."
"Harry?" Ginny croaked.
"You're awake! How do you feel, love?"
Ginny opened both eyes fully, and saw Harry's worried green eyes staring into hers. She smiled. "I'm very achy, but very glad to see you."
"I'm glad to see you, too." Unconcerned that Ron and George were sitting right there, Harry leaned forward to kiss Ginny. Their kiss began softly and slowly, but quickly deepened becoming far too heated considering that Harry and Ginny were not alone.
Ron cleared his throat, and Ginny and Harry pulled apart, but remained close together staring into each other's eyes.
"Do you think this flimsy hospital bed would support us both?" Ginny asked. Harry laughed.
"Oi!" Ron exclaimed, "It's bad enough you snog in front of us. You can shag later, when George and I don't have to watch." Harry and Ginny both rolled their eyes, and Harry sat back in his chair, still holding Ginny's hand.
"We're glad you're awake, Ginnikins. That was scary."
"It certainly was," Harry agreed. "What's taking the Healer so long?" Everyone shrugged, and continued to wait in nervous silence.
George lifted the blanket off Ginny's feet, grabbed her big toe, and grinning, exclaimed, "Got yer toe!"
"Aren't we too old for that game, George?"
"Too old for 'Got Yer Toe'? Never! Perish the thought!"
Ginny giggled.
"There's the reaction I was going for!" George grinned at Ginny, and releasing her toe ran his finger along the bottom of her foot.
Ginny kicked, missing George's head only because of his quick reflexes. "Try that again, and I will kick you somewhere important."
Harry and Ron laughed as George pretended to cower in fear, carefully covering Ginny's foot with the blanket again.
"Mrs Potter! We're glad to see you awake." The Healer returned. "Mr Weasley, Mr Weasley, if the two of you would please excuse us, I need to talk to Mr and Mrs Potter."
"Can't we stay?" Ron asked, still holding Ginny's hand.
Ginny spoke up, "I'll tell Ron and George whatever you say anyway, so they might as well stay."
George grinned rakishly at the Healer.
"Very well."
"Didn't Ginny just break her shoulder?" Harry asked. "Why did she have to come to St. Mungo's? The Harpies' Healers usually take care of her when she's injured."
"Mrs Potter has a broken clavicle, actually." The Healer pointed to her own clavicle. "As for the reason for the transfer . . . Mrs Potter cannot take the usual potions. The Harpies' Healers lacked the proper resources in their First Aid room, so we are brewing special ones for her."
Harry's questioning look was mirrored on the faces of Ginny, Ron, and George.
The Healer smiled. "I have some good news for you, Mr and Mrs Potter. The reason Mrs Potter needs special potions is because she's pregnant."
"WHAT?!" Harry, Ginny, Ron, and George all exclaimed.
The Healer chuckled. "Twelve weeks by our calculations. Congratulations."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron whined.
"I didn't know," Ginny answered.
"Twelve weeks is three months, Gin," George stated. "You must have at least suspected . . ."
"Oh, my periods usually stop when I'm training hard. It's very common among professional players, so I didn't think anything of it."
"That's more than I needed to know," George replied. Ron just turned a bit green.
"Don't ask the question if you don't want the answer," Ginny smirked.
Harry laughed, "You two are the ones who wanted to stay."
"I guess that explains why I've been so tired lately. I thought it was just how hard I was training?"
"Yes, it certainly would explain your being tired. I will leave you to talk while I go check your potions. It won't be too much longer."
"Is there anything I could have for pain while the potions are brewing?"
"I'll bring you an ice pack, Mrs Potter."
"Could she use this?" George pulled what looked like a large square of gelatin out of his pocket and started bending it. It turned blue, and George handed it to the Healer.
"What is this?" she asked, taking it.
"It's a new prototype I'm working on. If you bend it one way, it's cold, and the other way it's warm. I was thinking it'd be useful for picnics to keep cold food cold or hot food hot, but when you mentioned an ice pack, this might be less messy . . ." George shrugged.
"This is quite brilliant, Mr Weasley! Yes, that will be fine for Mrs Potter to use." The healer placed the blue square over Ginny's injury.
"That feels better, thanks!" Ginny smiled at the Healer and her brother.
"I'll bring those potions as soon as I can, Mrs Potter." The Healer left.
"This is brilliant, George. Much better than an ice pack."
Harry gently poked at the gelatin square on Ginny's shoulder. "You said this thing can be hot or cold?"
"Yes, why?"
"Would it be something that I could carry with me on field missions to stay warm?"
"What a great idea, Harry! I hadn't even thought of that use!"
"I bet Quidditch players could use it to keep warm in the winter and cool in the summer, too. We aren't allowed wands, so these things would be brilliant!"
"Brilliant, Gin! And here I thought pregnancy hormones were supposed to make your brain go wonky." George winked at Ginny.
Ginny stuck her tongue out at George. "How would you know about pregnancy hormones? I'm not even sure I know about pregnancy hormones, and I'm the one who's pregnant."
"I'm sure Hermione has several books on pregnancy she'd be glad to lend you."
"Something you aren't telling us, ickle Ronnikins?"
"Nah, you know Hermione. She has books about everything," Ron declared proudly.
"George still hasn't answered my question."
George shrugged, but didn't say anything.
"Your ears are getting red!" Ron exclaimed. "Is Angelina . . ."
"Not yet, but we're thinking about it, so I've been doing some reading."
"Since when are you channeling Hermione, George?"
"There's nothing wrong with being prepared."
"You all right, Harry?"
Harry was staring off into space.
"Hey Harry, mate!"
Harry still said nothing.
"Harry?" Ginny squeezed Harry's hand more tightly.
"Huh?"
Ginny gingerly turned more towards Harry, still holding his hand and caressing his arm with her other hand. "You OK, love?"
"Yeah," Harry breathed in wonder. "It's just . . . I'm going to be a dad."
George nodded wisely. "That's generally what happens when one's wife is pregnant."
Ginny and Ron laughed. Harry managed to snort quietly.
"It's just . . . I don't even remember my dad. I mean, your dad is Dad now, and he's always been like a father to me, but like a father isn't really, you know? I just want to be a good dad."
"Love, you already are are good dad."
Harry quirked an eyebrow as he looked at Ginny.
"To Teddy."
"But I'm not . . ."
"Yes. You are. You may not be his father, but you are his dad."
"I never thought of it that way."
"And besides, mate, you're all of our nieces' favorite uncle," Ron added.
"No, I'm not!"
"You are, Harry," George chimed in. "I might have a shot at 'favored uncle status' when Victoire, Dominique, Molly, and Lucy are old enough for Wheezes, but right now? They are all about Uncle Harry."
Ginny laughed. "You know, I just thought of something. As the first Weasley female in seven generations, I must have started a trend. We don't have any nephews!"
Harry, Ron, and George laughed.
"True, that," Ron agreed. "You and Harry will need to have a son. Maybe you could name him Fred . . ."
"Absolutely NOT!" George shouted. "I will be naming my son Fred. Fred was my twin so I have dibs on the name!"
Harry laughed. "Not a problem, George. If we have a boy we won't name him Fred."
George nodded, satisfied.
"What will you name him?" Ron asked.
"I don’t know. I never thought of baby names before . . ."
"I think you have a while to decide," George said.
"True," Ginny acquiesced, "But we might as well pass the time until the Healer gets back with my potions."
"Your pain doing better, love?"
"Yes. George's Wheeze is really helping." Ginny smiled at her brother. "What about James?"
"Who's James?" Ron asked.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "As a name for the baby if it's a boy."
"You'd want to name our son after my dad?"
"Of course."
"I like it. How about James Sirius?"
"James Sirius. That works well. We've got a boy's name sorted, what if our little one is continuing in the trend of this generation of Weasleys and is a girl?"
"Well, if we're naming a boy James, how about Lily for a girl?"
"I like Lily," Ginny smiled at Harry. "How about a middle name?"
"Andromeda?"
"Lily Andromeda Potter," George said. "She'd have initials L-A-P. Lap. You’d have a daughter with initials that spell 'lap'. Not a good idea."
"Why does it matter what her initials spell?" Harry wondered.
"I'm not sure the initials matter," Ginny said, "But I agree with George. I don't like Andromeda as a middle name. What about Tonks?"
"Lily Tonks Potter. I don’t think so," Harry said.
"What about Nymphadora?" Ron asked.
"No!" Harry and Ginny said together.
George laughed, then offered, "What about Hermione?"
"What about her?" Ron asked.
"As a middle name for Ginny and Harry's baby if it's a girl," George clarified.
"That's a nice thought, but I was thinking Hermione and I might use 'Hermione' as a middle name if we ever have a daughter."
"Can cousins not have the same middle name?" Harry asked.
Ginny answered, "I think there are enough names available that our child's name can be unique at least within our family."
"Well, Percy already took Molly, so if we want to be different . . ."
"What about Freddia?" Ron asked.
Harry, Ginny, and George laughed.
"What?! George could have a son with a first name of Fred, and you could have a daughter with a middle name of Freddia!"
"Is Freddia even a real name?" Harry asked.
"Why's it matter?" Ron huffed. "I like it."
"Then you can give your daughter 'Freddia' as a middle name, Ron," Ginny chortled.
Ron let go of Ginny's hand, crossed his arms, and pouted.
"Oh come on, Ron, "Ginny cajoled, "Don’t be like that." Ron huffed but picked up Ginny's hand again.
"What about Lily Luna?" Harry suggested.
"Lily Luna. I like it!" Ginny enthused.
"You want to name your child after Loony Lovegood?" George asked.
"For your information, George, Luna is one of my closest friends."
"And she fought in battles three years in a row," Harry added.
"And she's funny, as well as compassionate," Ron said. "She did the best Quidditch commentary ever and managed to look after Ollivander in the Malfoy's dungeon."
"OK, OK, I was just joking," George backpedaled. "Luna is wonderful and loving and brilliant and the perfect person to name your child after."
"So we have names for our baby whether it’s a boy or a girl," Ginny said.
"That took all of five minutes," George griped. "Now what?"
"You know, George, you don't have to stay if you are so bored."
"I'll stay, Ginnikins, I didn't mean it like that."
"When are you going to tell the rest of the family about your pregnancy?"
"Sunday dinner," Harry answered Ron. "We need time to think about things ourselves."
"You mean you need time to catch up on shagging," George laughed.
"George!" Ginny scolded.
At the same time Harry said, "So what if we do? We're married and haven't seen each other for a month. Deal with it!"
The Healer returned saying, "Mrs Potter's shoulder injury will not impede sexual activity in the slightest. As long as she wants to and is not experiencing pain, you are free to do whatever you like."
Harry blushed, but couldn't help grinning.
"I have your potions, Mrs Potter. Drink them, we'll check your clavicle, and then you will be free to go."
"Free to go and shag like rabbits," George muttered.
Ginny glared at him.
***
Harry checked Ginny out of St. Mungo's and side-along Apparated her home. When they arrived in the entrance Hall of Grimmauld Place, Harry held Ginny tightly, lit his wand, and examined their surroundings before proceeding.
"Ah, Muriel's vines are out. Be careful not to step on her. We don’t want any more trips to St. Mungo's," Harry said.
"Muriel's vines?" Ginny looked around in the light from Harry's wand. "What in Merlin's name . . ."
"I contacted Neville. Muriel's vines come out at night and she eats house dust. We'll never have to dust again."
"Bloody brilliant!" Ginny exclaimed.
"Definitely," Harry agreed. "You know what's even more brilliant?"
"What?"
"Neither of us has to go to work for the next several days, and I plan to spend all of them in bed with you."
Ginny purred, "What a lovely thought!"