Fic: "Unexpected Side Effects" by govcampbell
To: snuggle_muggle
Title: Unexpected Side-Effects
Author/Artist: govcampbell
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5,722
Summary: Harry and Ginny find their daily lives with their two boys interrupted by a nasty flu bug.
Author/Artist's Notes: snuggle_muggle asked for something that shows the different ways Harry and Ginny use magic to raise their kids. I've tried to immerse you in a magical child rearing environment, with all kinds of little goodies. Charms and potions make their appearance here. And I built it all around a plot line that provides a little bit of extra fluff. I really hope you like it.
At first, Ginny didn’t hear the voice calling her. This was because Albus was crying. James, who had until moments ago been happily giggling, was now crying, because she had scolded him for taking away the plush Quaffle that Albus had been playing with.
Why she ever thought she could handle two children under the age of three by herself was beyond her.
Ginny heard the other noise first. It was the sound of someone else crying. That clued her into the presence of at least one other person in the house. And then Ginny heard the voice calling her.
“Ginny! Ginny!”
Ginny, Albus still bawling at her hip, crossed the nursery and exited to the upstairs landing. Hermione was standing in the entry way, Rose in her arms, also crying.
Great, now my house has three screaming children in it.. Hermione was clearly upset about something.
“Hang on, Hermione!” Ginny called over the din. Ginny blew a stray lock of hair out of her face and fumbled for her wand. She didn’t like doing this sort of thing, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She stepped back into the nursery and pointed her wand at the plush Quaffle, discarded on the floor after she’d started to take it away from James. She flicked her wrist and the object duplicated itself, a trick Harry had taught her from his Auror training. He’d learned to use it for duplicating restraints, in case he apprehended more than one suspect. The duplicate was as good as an original, and would last for a good three hours. More than enough time, she suspected, for both her children to lose interest in it. She set Albus back on the floor, and his cries faded as he grabbed the plush ball and started squeezing it. She offered the other one to James, who took it warily, but ceased his crying as well.
“Play nice,” she ordered. She reset the door gate, a simple charm that her mother had highlighted in her personal copy of Childcare Like Magic! The book had apparently been her mother’s bible, so well-thumbed was the copy, with the binding and several pages reinforced with Spell-o-Tape. She’d tearfully given it to Ginny when she and Harry had announced she was pregnant with James.
Hermione had climbed the stairs to the landing. Rose had subsided to whimpering. “I’m sorry, Ginny, but I’m all out of powdered dragon scale, and Rose has a terrible earache, and I think she’s running a fever.”
Ginny put her hand on her niece’s forehead. It was slightly warm. “It’s okay,” Ginny said. “I’ve got some downstairs, c’mon.”
“I think she caught that cold that Ron and Harry had last week,” Hermione explained as the two women crossed to the stairs.
Ron and Harry had caught raging colds after chasing a suspect into a salt marsh in the pouring rain. During March. In Norfolk. Hermione had told Ginny she hadn’t seen Ron that cold and wet since they had been on the Horcrux hunt together. Ginny was surprised that neither she nor Hermione nor the boys had managed to catch it from them either. Yet… There was probably still time to catch it.
They settled into the kitchen, and Ginny aimed her wand at the stove, lighting the stovetop. “You know where the kettle is, Hermione. Grab it out, and we can whip up a quick earache potion.”
“Thanks, Ginny, you’re a lifesaver,” Hermione said, setting Rose down in Albus’s high chair, and fetching the kettle.
“No problem,” Ginny said from the potions cupboard. She rummaged around and found the ingredients. “What time is it anyway?” she asked.
“A little bit before five. Harry and Ron should be home from the office shortly, unless something odd comes up,” Hermione said. “I left a note for Ron,” she added. “If he comes home and I’m not there, he’ll come here.”
“I’ve got a roast in the oven. Do you want to eat here?” Ginny asked. “There’s plenty. It’ll just mean Harry has a couple days fewer to eat leftover sandwiches.” She set out the potions ingredients on the counter next to the stove.
“Sounds lovely, Ginny, but Rose hasn’t been eating well today, and I want to put her down early,” Hermione said.
Ginny nodded, and began preparing the potion, beginning with a water base. “Oh, Hermione, reach into the spice cupboard and hand me a chicken bouillon cube.”
“What’s that for?” Hermione asked.
“Something Mum put in the margins of her book. She says to add chicken bouillon, because it makes the potion taste like chicken soup, and apparently, it’s the only way that Charlie would take it. The bouillon doesn’t affect the potion’s active ingredients.” Ginny shrugged. “I always make it this way for James and Albus, and they’ve never balked at taking it.”
Hermione handed over the cube, thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that,” she said. “Rose has never liked this one.”
Ginny hummed to herself as she mixed in the potion ingredients into the broth base. Stirring quickly twice with her long, brass ladle, the potion turned a bright pink. “All ready!” she said cheerfully, ladling out a generous measure into a small bowl. She summoned a small spoon and handed both to Hermione.
Hermione took the bowl and set it down on the table, and picked up the spoon. “Open up, popkin,” Hermione said. “It’s good for you.”
Rose tried to avoid the spoon valiantly, but Hermione eventually succeeded in popping it into Rose’s mouth. Ginny had to laugh as Rose looked momentarily confused, and then willingly submitted to another spoonful. “What did I tell you?” Ginny chuckled. “Mum’s notes work every time.”
“Your mother should write her own book,” Hermione said.
A chime rang from a clock-like object on the table in the hallway by the stairs. “Nappy time!” a voice called out. A baby shower gift from Fluer, it was tied by charm to the boy’s nappies, and helped Ginny stay on top of nappy changes.
Ginny groaned. “Which one this time?” she wondered aloud.
++
Harry arrived home and found his wife cross legged on the floor of the nursery with his two sons.
“Dadee!” James cried out, and toddled toward him.
“Hey there, big guy!” Harry said, hoisting his son into his arms. “How are you today?”
James giggled in response, hugging his father tightly. Harry reached in his pocket, and pulled out a couple of small sweets. “Nicked these off your Uncle Ron’s desk,” he said, holding them up. James grabbed one and popped it into his mouth, and Albus waved his arms at him until Harry gave him one. Ginny rolled her eyes at him.
Harry knew that soon he would have to start being careful not to spoil the boys, but the novelty of being a father, and making sure the boys had a father they would know and love and grow up with still hadn’t worn off. He wanted to give them all the things he’d never had, growing up as an orphan. But on the other hand, he didn’t want them to end up like Dudley, either.
“How was your day?” Harry asked as Ginny stood up and he stooped slightly to meet her lips for a quick kiss. “Boys behaving?”
“We need more sharing lessons,” Ginny said. “But that’s typical at this age. I cheated once, I used that duplicating spell you taught me, so we could have two stuffed Quaffles for a bit,” she explained.
“Maybe we should just get another,” Harry mused. “Can never have too many Quaffles around…”
“While there’s merit to that idea, husband of mine,” Ginny said wryly, “It would defeat the purpose of the sharing lessons.”
Harry grinned ruefully. “Well, you’re right about that,” he said. “Dinner smells wondrous by the way.” His stomach rumbled audibly and James giggled.
“Tummy!” he exclaimed, reaching down to punch Harry squarely in the chest.
“Oof,” Harry wheezed out, more startled than hurt. “James,” he said firmly. “We don’t hit people.”
“Come on,” Ginny said, picking up Albus. “Dinner’s nearly ready, and it’s your turn to feed Al.” Just then Albus sneezed mightily, and rubbed his nose. Ginny looked at him narrowly.
“What’s the matter?” Harry asked, seeing her concern.
“Hermione stopped by a few minutes ago…Rosie caught Ron’s cold. I had hoped that the boys hadn’t caught yours…now I’m not so sure.”
Harry looked at his son. “Looks fine to me. Maybe his nose is just itchy.”
Ginny looked at her son’s eyes. “Maybe,” she allowed. But she didn’t look convinced.
After dinner, Harry indulged himself in one his favourite pastimes...teaching the boys about Quidditch. Ginny was more understanding in this sort of thing than Hermione tended to be, because of her years with the Harpies and now with the Prophet. Ginny was on vacation until the resumption of the professional season, later in the spring.
James giggled madly as Harry help guide him across the room while he rode on his toy broomstick. Albus squealed happily as Ginny tossed him the toy Bludger and he knocked it back to her.
“I think Al’s going to be a Beater,” Ginny observed. “Maybe we should have George give him some lessons.”
Harry sighed. “That prospect might be just enough to get him to pick up the bat again.”
While the pain of Fred’s death had faded with time, George was still reluctant to play Beater without his twin. It seemed to still hurt too much. But even that seemed to be healing, with time.
As James went floating slowly by Ginny’s head, she tossed the toy Quaffle up to him. He grabbed the plush toy and gave a squeal of delight.
Albus, on the other hand, looked sullen at the attention Ginny gave to James, and he crawled into her lap. He looked tired. Ginny looked concerned and put a hand to his forehead.
“Fever?” Harry asked.
“I don’t think so,” Ginny said. “But I still think he might be coming down with something.
By bedtime, Harry had to admit that Ginny was probably right about Al. He’d been listless after dinner, his eyes appeared watery and his nose was stuffy. He clung to Ginny tightly, not wanting to be put down for bed.
“Looks like we’d better dig out your Mum’s book,” Harry observed, as Ginny finally got Al down and he was drifting off to sleep, snuffling gently through his congestion.
Ginny nodded. “And James will be next, of course,” she said softly. She poked him in the chest. “I blame you.”
“Me?” Harry raised his eyebrows.
“Well, you and Ron anyway,” Ginny added. “Did you have to follow him into that swamp?” she asked rhetorically as they made their way down the hallway toward the bedroom.
“Didn’t have a whole lot of choice,” Harry said defensively, pealing off his shirt and tossing it toward the laundry hamper.
Ginny shook her head, her long red braid bobbing as she rolled her eyes. Harry loved her braid, had loved it since she started wearing it that way back in Hogwarts during Quidditch. And he loved it even more when he got to help her take it down. “Want some help combing that out?” he asked.
Ginny shook her head. “Not right now,” she said. “But you could come rub my shoulders,” she suggested. She sat down on the edge of the bed.
Harry sat down on the bed, and scooted behind her, beginning to massage her shoulders. Ginny carried her tension in the muscles in her shoulders, and she began to moan appreciatively as he kneaded with his thumbs. Slowly, Harry let a smile creep across his face as he tugged her shirt down her arm a little, exposing her delightfully freckled shoulder. He kept rubbing her shoulder, and began to plant soft kisses on the exposed part of her shoulder. Ginny shifted slightly, and Harry shifted toward her neck. Abruptly, Ginny pulled away.
“None of that, now, Mr. Potter,” she scolded, rising from the bed and beginning to undress.
“Aww.” Harry sat up. “How come?”
“Because of you, I’m going to spend the next week taking care of two consecutively sick children. You don’t deserve it. I’ll be lucky not to get sick myself,” she said, as she turned around. Her mouth was speaking no, but her eyes were saying something completely different.
“Well, if you think you’re going to get sick,” Harry said, rising from the bed, “Don’t you think we should take advantage of the time you have while you’re healthy?” He crossed toward her.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “That’s probably the weakest line you’ve ever come up with, Potter. And that includes the time you told it was my patriotic duty to relieve the stress of a war hero.”
Harry grinned ruefully. “Okay, so it was pretty lame, but I’d been away for three weeks.”
“And we weren’t married yet, and it was at my parents’ house,” she pointed out, but she was grinning wickedly.
“It’s a good thing that I’m good at Silencing Charms, then,” Harry said. “Want me to demonstrate now?” he added suggestively.
“Mmmm,” Ginny said, leaning in for a kiss.
Harry raised his hand. He had long since learned to do Silencing Charms silently, and was about to cast one when the mood was spoiled permanently.
“Mummy,” a plaintive voice called. “Tummy hurt.” This was followed by the unmistakable sound of retching.
Ginny sighed, reaching for her robe and belting it around her waist. “Looks like you’d better practice Scourgify instead,” she sighed.
++
Ginny took only marginal comfort in the knowledge that she had correctly predicted that both boys would be sick. First Al, then James were down with runny noses, fever, and nausea, the latter probably caused by the former.
Her mother’s book was more than invaluable. When Ginny wasn’t sitting with the boys, she was at the stove, stirring up potions for runny noses, and mixing up poultices for fever. This, of course, was in between the usual routine of changing nappies, meals and playtime. The one redeeming quality in this was neither of the boys had a lot of energy, and so therefore they were less inclined to get into serious trouble, or stir up any major sibling spats. Cranky and whingey were the worst they managed to conjure up.
To his credit, Harry was very helpful whenever he got home in the evening, taking over watching the boys so she could at least a have a few minutes of peace. Tonight, Harry offered to take them outside for a little bit. Ginny had been hesitant at first, because they still weren’t feeling good, but Harry pointed out that they would be fine for a few hours, and that fresh air was good for them. It was starting to warm up a little on nice days, even though true spring was a bit away. She watched them in the back garden from the bedroom window as Harry levitated first one, and then the other, in some kind of game. She smiled gratefully and headed for the bathroom.
The master bathroom had an oversized tub and she began to fill it, pouring in some “Ever-Bubble Bath Salts” before slipping into the tub. A quick flick of her wrist lit the scented candles that Hermione gave her every year at her birthday. Another flick of her wrist brought the trashy novel from the counter by the sink, and it hovered in the air, just above her head, so she would never have to get it wet. Hermione had lent her this one. Hermione usually charmed the covers of the books to hide their content, as if she was embarrassed to be caught reading something so frivolous, but Ginny didn’t bother. Last summer, Ginny’d been reading one out in the garden when Ron and Hermione stopped by. Hermione had been quite vexed with Ginny when, upon Ron’s asking where she’d gotten it, Ginny’d told him that she’d got it from Hermione.
The pages turned with a flick of her fingers as the book hovered there, and she sighed as she settled herself further into the fizzing bathwater.
She must have drifted off at some point, because she woke with a start. Harry was there, peeling off his own clothes.
“The boys?” she asked drowsily.
“Asleep,” he said. He stripped down, and Ginny eyed him appreciatively through slitted eyes. He pulled out his wand and Ginny felt the water warm back up as he cast a warming charm on it.
“Join me?” she asked.
“Though you’d never ask,” he grinned as he slipped into the tub next to her, and leaning over to kiss her.
“How about that Silencing Charm you’re so proud of?” she asked, tracing lazy designs on his back with a wet fingernail as she embraced him.
Harry grinned, and took one hand and waved it sharply. Ginny felt the magic as the charm settled on the room. She smiled and twined her arms about his neck as she kissed him soundly.
+++
To Harry, it seemed as though the boys seemed to not want to get better. Their colds lingered for nearly a week, and Harry became concerned enough to suggest taking them to St. Mungo’s. Ginny scoffed at the idea, but finally relented. She was, however, smugly self-satisfied when the Healers had told her that it was probably a virus, and would run its course in due time.
Meanwhile, Hermione had come down with the cold, caught from Rose, who’d caught it from Ron. Ginny did what she could to help, taking Rose off Hermione’s hands when she could. In turn, Harry tried to do more for Ginny. They hadn’t had very much time to themselves since the night in the bath, and mostly, they just collapsed into bed at the end of the day, after getting Rose returned to Hermione and their own boys to bed.
Harry had been impressed that Ginny hadn’t yet gotten sick. He mentioned this to her one night as they lay in bed together before falling asleep.
“Mum’s book. On one of the pages, she’s pencilled in instructions for a potion that’s supposed to help keep you healthy. I’ve been taking it since you got sick,” Ginny explained. She didn’t know if her mother had invented it, or why it wasn’t more commonly known. It seemed to work pretty well, and didn’t even taste that bad.
“Oh. An immunity booster. The Muggles sell those, too,” Harry said. “Maybe I should get some,” he mused. “It might help Ron and me the next time we have to go running around in the swamps in the rain.”
“A better suggestion would be to conjure yourself a mac and some Wellies,” Ginny said. “Didn’t Auror training teach you how to conjure protective gear?”
“We were in a hurry,” Harry said defensively.
Ginny snorted and rolled over.
+++
Harry had jinxed it. That was all there was to it. Ginny woke the following morning with a sore throat, and a headache. At least James and Al were starting to feel better. Hermione was still sick, and Ginny couldn’t bear the thought of three active children in her house. And James was now reaching an age where he might perform accidental magic at any moment, and that was beginning to weigh heavily on her mind. It would be just like him to do something big, messy, and possibly dangerous.
Ginny got both the boys up, and changed their nappies. Albus watched fascinated, as he always did, as she Vanished both the dirty nappies after she finished. He always spent a few minutes afterwards looking for them, as if it was part of a game, before he gave up. Then she took them downstairs to feed them breakfast.
James clapped his hands and cried out, trying to catch the bowls as they went floating by toward the table, while Ginny rummaged in the pantry for the boy’s cereal. Ginny rummaged for a few more moments, frowning. Then she glanced back over her shoulder, and saw the empty box on the counter with a note on it. In Harry’s neat block letters, she read.
Ginny, I finished these up this morning, sorry about that. You’ll have to get more. Love, Me.
The day was not starting well.
+++
Harry knew he was in trouble when he got home. He could hear yelling from upstairs from his spot in the front hall. When he reached the nursery, he found James screaming, Albus bawling in Ginny’s arms, and Ginny in tears. Immediately, he scooped up James and Albus, kissed Ginny on the forehead, and took the boys downstairs. He got them settled down, and made a dinner out of a box.
Ginny came down after a bit, calmed down, but still looking miserable.
“Feeling better?” Harry asked.
“Not really,” Ginny croaked. “My throat hurts, and my head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton balls. And it’s all your fault.”
“I’ll send an owl. I’ll take tomorrow off at least, and take care of the kids for you. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to Floo your Mum once in a while.”
Ginny glared at him. And it wasn’t a good glare. It was the Weasley Death Glare. “We’ve been over this, Potter. I’m not about to admit to my mother that I can’t handle two children, when my mother had seven.” She finished in a bout of coughing that left her bent double.
Harry poured her a glass of water, which she took gratefully. “Would you like anything to eat?” he asked. Ginny shook her head.
“The very thought of food is making me queasy. I’m going to bed,” she announced.
Ginny kissed James and Albus goodnight and went upstairs. Harry heard her getting ready for bed. By the time he had the boys fed, cleaned up, and down for bed, she was sound asleep.
Harry sighed and got himself ready for bed. He had trouble getting to sleep, as Ginny was sprawled rather awkwardly in their bed, leaving Harry to try and fold himself around her, but he finally managed it.
It was very early in the morning when Harry woke up again, and he had a disoriented moment while he tried to determine what exactly had woken him. The empty space in the bed where Ginny should be, and then the sound of retching from the master bathroom helped him put the pieces together and he rose at once.
“Ginny? Are you alright?”
Ginny sat on the floor, with her head resting on the edge of the toilet, as if the cool porcelain gave her some relief. She didn’t even look up to glare at him, which was a bad sign. Harry knelt on the floor next to her, putting his hand to her forehead.
“You’re burning up,” he observed. She groaned. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. She shook her head fractionally, and then sat up suddenly, and was sick once more into the bowl.
Harry sat with her, patting her back, until she was once again, resting her head and panting. “I’ll be right back,” he said. He conjured a glass, and filled it with water from the sink, and took a face towel from the rack and wet it down. He performed a cooling charm on both the water and the wet towel. Ginny gratefully took the glass, and rinsed her mouth out before gently sipping some water, and murmured appreciatively as he placed the cool towel on her forehead.
“What else can I get you?” Harry asked his wife softly. “Anything at all?”
“Potion,” Ginny breathed. “Bottled Extra,” she managed. “Behind the mirror.”
Harry opened the cabinet behind the mirror and pulled out one of the small bottles of pink goopy potion that Ginny had bottled when she made up the Stomach-Settler potion for the boys. Harry was very familiar with it, having taken it himself on many occasions, and of course, Ginny had nearly lived on the stuff when she’d been pregnant with both of the boys. He uncorked it and knelt down next to Ginny. “Do you need help?”
She shook her head, and took the potion from him. She pulled her head up, pinched her nose, and drank the potion down. She pulled a face and shuddered as she finished. It didn’t taste good…potions rarely did.
“Why don’t I help you back to bed,” Harry suggested. Ginny nodded, and Harry helped her up and guided her back to bed. He helped get her situated in the blankets, and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Try and get some sleep, love,” he whispered.
She murmured something, but it was in the pillow and indistinct. Harry stroked her long red-gold hair until her breathing evened out.
When Harry got up with the boys in the morning, he let Ginny sleep. He gathered up the boys and took them to the Burrow. Molly was delighted to see the boys, and they were soon ensconced on the cosy living room floor with the box of communal toys, shared by all the Weasley cousins.
“How bad is it?” Molly asked him, once the boys were happily playing.
“Pretty bad,” Harry admitted. “Ron and I were sick for a week, but the boys seem to have been worse, and now it looks like Ginny’s pretty miserable.”
Molly tut-tutted. “I read in the Daily Prophet that there’s a nasty bug going around,” she said. “And Andromeda said that Teddy was sick recently, too.”
“I’m supposed to see them tomorrow,” Harry said, remembering belatedly. “I should let Andromeda know that the boys have been sick. Do you think Teddy would catch it again?”
Molly shook her head. “No, he should be alright. And you should go. I’m sure Teddy’s looking forward to seeing you and the boys. And it will let Ginny have more time to herself.”
Harry nodded. “You know she treats that book you gave her like holy writ, right? I’m not sure we could live without it now,” Harry pointed out.
Molly smiled. “Of course, dear. I couldn’t live without it either when the children were growing up.”
“You made a lot of good notes, too,” Harry pointed out. “You should write your own parenting book…or at least let Hermione ghost write it for you.”
Molly gave a little laugh. “Oh no. Some of those things I wrote aren’t exactly ministry approved after all. I’m sure they wouldn’t like some of the side effects.”
Before Harry could ask what she meant, there was a cry from the living room, and Harry had to go mediate the latest sharing lesson.
++
Ginny was feeling slightly more human by Saturday afternoon. She actually didn’t remember very much of Saturday morning, and even less of Friday, only that the house seemed abnormally quiet. But she was sufficiently aware by the afternoon to notice Harry returning from Andromeda’s with the boys.
“How was Teddy?” she asked Harry, after greeting the boys. The boys were excited to see her up and about, but Harry quickly moved them to the nursery, where their enthusiasm wouldn’t tax her. She was curled up in her favourite spot on the couch, and Harry settled on the opposite end, and took her feet in his lap.
“He’s great,” Harry said. “He’s going to be quite the flier. Still not sure if he’s Chaser or Seeker material, but he’ll be good either way. And he had Al and James enthralled with his hair-colour changes.”
Ginny smiled. “Has Andromeda given up trying to keep him from changing his hair red yet?”
Harry grinned and shook his head. “No…I swear that boy really does think he’s a Weasley sometimes. But I think she secretly prefers it to the black hair that he wears around me, since black reminds her too much of her sister.” He looked at her critically. “How are you feeling, really?” he asked.
Ginny shrugged. “Not great. Only a little better than yesterday,” she said. “I’m tired, my throat hurts, and my head is stuffy. And while I don’t feel like I’m going to throw up now, it’ll probably be back. It’s been coming and going all day.”
Harry shook his head. “I’m sorry, love. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Ginny shook her head. “You’ve been wonderful, Harry. Thank you.”
Just then, there was a crash from upstairs, and one of the boys began to wail. Harry shook his head. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, as he rose from the couch.
Ginny was sick all week. She only had a few really bad episodes, but she was nauseas nearly the whole time. She thought she was starting to feel better by Thursday afternoon, but she was throwing up again Friday morning. She improved as the day went on, but she was sick again on Saturday morning, and Harry noticed. “I’d hoped you were getting over this. I hope it isn’t turning into pneumonia.”
Ginny shook her head. “No, it’s not in my chest,” she said. “But I’m still pretty tired and nauseas most of the time.”
Harry nodded. “It’s a nice afternoon,” Harry said “I’ll take the boys outside for a while so you can take a nap.”
And he did, and she felt better by evening, but the next morning, she was sick again.
Harry’s brow was furrowed as she downed more of the pink stuff. “This is weird,” he said. “Why would your cold be coming back now? You were fine yesterday afternoon.”
Ginny shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Harry, Ginny and the boys had dinner at the Burrow that night, along with Ron, Hermione and Rose. About halfway through dinner, Ron cleared his throat. “We have an announcement,” he said. He and Hermione grinned. “We’re going to have another baby.”
There was general congratulations, and much discussion about the new baby. After dinner, when the men took the children out to the garden, Molly, Hermione and Ginny stayed behind in the kitchen.
“We think it’s a boy this time,” Hermione said. “Well, I think it’s a boy, and Ron’s terribly hopeful. Not that he doesn’t love Rose, of course, but he’s really hoping for a boy.”
“How are you feeling?” Ginny asked.
“Ok,” Hermione said. “That cold I had a couple weeks back was really miserable, since I already had morning sickness.”
“And how are you feeling, Ginny?” Molly asked. “Harry said you’ve been very ill.”
Ginny nodded. “It’s been awful. I was throwing up all week. And just when I thought I was getting over it, it comes back.” She shook her head. “That potion you wrote in your book helped for a while, but in the end, the cold caught up with me.”
Molly looked up sharply. “Which potion is that?” she asked.
“Oh, the one you wrote in on the preventative measures page. The one you said would help keep you from getting sick,” Ginny said. “I don’t know why you didn’t publish it. Most of the time it seems to work great.”
Molly inhaled sharply. “Ginny, some of those potions…they have, erm…side effects. How long have you been taking that potion?”
“Oh, since Harry got sick, why?” Ginny asked, confused. She looked up. “Am I not supposed to take it that long? Is it making me sick?”
Molly coughed strangely, as if she was trying not laugh. “No, dear, not exactly. But have you and Harry…oh, dear, how to put this...been…intimate, since he got sick?”
Ginny blushed to the roots of her hair. “Mum!” she gasped. “What…?” she sputtered.
“Well, that particular potion. It…erm…rather increases your chances of getting pregnant. Substantially.”
Ginny gaped at her.
“How do you know?” Hermione asked.
“Well, Charlie, Percy and the twins were born about nine months after I took the potion while Arthur had a cold,” Molly said. “Arthur always liked to celebrate after he got healthy again…”
“Mum!” Ginny protested, covering her ears.
“…and it always seemed like it happed then, so I had Dumbledore look at the potion instructions. He told me it was among the more powerful fertility potions he had run across…” Molly trailed off as Ginny’s eyes widened as she began to fully comprehend what her mother was telling her.
Ginny looked from her mother, to Hermione, and back to her mother, as both women began to grin knowingly at her.
“Ginny, your nausea...when is it worst?” Hermione asked
“In the morn…” Ginny stopped. “Mum, I don’t suppose you remember the diagnostic charm?”
Her mother laughed. “Of course, my dear.”
++
After Ginny had helped him put the boys down for the night, Harry found her sitting on their bed, staring at him with her eyes sparkling.
“Harry?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“I think I know why I’m still sick,” she said.
“Oh?” Harry looked up just then. “What is it?”
“Well…It’s your fault.”
Harry snorted. “I thought we’d established that. It was my cold.”
“No…it was your Silencing Charms. And your cold,” she allowed. “Because that made me take the potion."
Harry furrowed his brow. “Silencing Charms? What potion?”
“You remember that potion I was taking to try and keep from getting sick. Mum told me that it’s got some interesting side effects. It increased our odds, somewhat.”
Harry looked at her confused. “What on earth are you talking about, love?”
She smiled at him just then, and her hand strayed to her belly. “I should have known, of course, but the cold confused me. I just thought it was coming back, but it was something else entirely…” she trailed off.
Harry stared at her for a moment, the gears slowly grinding into motion. “Ginny…you’re…”
She nodded.
Harry jumped onto the bed next to her and gathered her up into a fierce hug.
“You realize we’re going to be outnumbered now,” she said.
“We can handle it,” Harry said confidently. “We can do anything together. We were outnumbered with just James, what difference will one more make.”
Ginny smiled at him. “I hope it’s a girl,” she said quietly. “I’d like to have a girl.”
“Me too,” Harry said. “After all, we’ve already got one kid who looks like me, and I want to have one that looks like you, and it would look strange on a boy,” he grinned.
Ginny laughed.
Title: Unexpected Side-Effects
Author/Artist: govcampbell
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5,722
Summary: Harry and Ginny find their daily lives with their two boys interrupted by a nasty flu bug.
Author/Artist's Notes: snuggle_muggle asked for something that shows the different ways Harry and Ginny use magic to raise their kids. I've tried to immerse you in a magical child rearing environment, with all kinds of little goodies. Charms and potions make their appearance here. And I built it all around a plot line that provides a little bit of extra fluff. I really hope you like it.
At first, Ginny didn’t hear the voice calling her. This was because Albus was crying. James, who had until moments ago been happily giggling, was now crying, because she had scolded him for taking away the plush Quaffle that Albus had been playing with.
Why she ever thought she could handle two children under the age of three by herself was beyond her.
Ginny heard the other noise first. It was the sound of someone else crying. That clued her into the presence of at least one other person in the house. And then Ginny heard the voice calling her.
“Ginny! Ginny!”
Ginny, Albus still bawling at her hip, crossed the nursery and exited to the upstairs landing. Hermione was standing in the entry way, Rose in her arms, also crying.
Great, now my house has three screaming children in it.. Hermione was clearly upset about something.
“Hang on, Hermione!” Ginny called over the din. Ginny blew a stray lock of hair out of her face and fumbled for her wand. She didn’t like doing this sort of thing, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She stepped back into the nursery and pointed her wand at the plush Quaffle, discarded on the floor after she’d started to take it away from James. She flicked her wrist and the object duplicated itself, a trick Harry had taught her from his Auror training. He’d learned to use it for duplicating restraints, in case he apprehended more than one suspect. The duplicate was as good as an original, and would last for a good three hours. More than enough time, she suspected, for both her children to lose interest in it. She set Albus back on the floor, and his cries faded as he grabbed the plush ball and started squeezing it. She offered the other one to James, who took it warily, but ceased his crying as well.
“Play nice,” she ordered. She reset the door gate, a simple charm that her mother had highlighted in her personal copy of Childcare Like Magic! The book had apparently been her mother’s bible, so well-thumbed was the copy, with the binding and several pages reinforced with Spell-o-Tape. She’d tearfully given it to Ginny when she and Harry had announced she was pregnant with James.
Hermione had climbed the stairs to the landing. Rose had subsided to whimpering. “I’m sorry, Ginny, but I’m all out of powdered dragon scale, and Rose has a terrible earache, and I think she’s running a fever.”
Ginny put her hand on her niece’s forehead. It was slightly warm. “It’s okay,” Ginny said. “I’ve got some downstairs, c’mon.”
“I think she caught that cold that Ron and Harry had last week,” Hermione explained as the two women crossed to the stairs.
Ron and Harry had caught raging colds after chasing a suspect into a salt marsh in the pouring rain. During March. In Norfolk. Hermione had told Ginny she hadn’t seen Ron that cold and wet since they had been on the Horcrux hunt together. Ginny was surprised that neither she nor Hermione nor the boys had managed to catch it from them either. Yet… There was probably still time to catch it.
They settled into the kitchen, and Ginny aimed her wand at the stove, lighting the stovetop. “You know where the kettle is, Hermione. Grab it out, and we can whip up a quick earache potion.”
“Thanks, Ginny, you’re a lifesaver,” Hermione said, setting Rose down in Albus’s high chair, and fetching the kettle.
“No problem,” Ginny said from the potions cupboard. She rummaged around and found the ingredients. “What time is it anyway?” she asked.
“A little bit before five. Harry and Ron should be home from the office shortly, unless something odd comes up,” Hermione said. “I left a note for Ron,” she added. “If he comes home and I’m not there, he’ll come here.”
“I’ve got a roast in the oven. Do you want to eat here?” Ginny asked. “There’s plenty. It’ll just mean Harry has a couple days fewer to eat leftover sandwiches.” She set out the potions ingredients on the counter next to the stove.
“Sounds lovely, Ginny, but Rose hasn’t been eating well today, and I want to put her down early,” Hermione said.
Ginny nodded, and began preparing the potion, beginning with a water base. “Oh, Hermione, reach into the spice cupboard and hand me a chicken bouillon cube.”
“What’s that for?” Hermione asked.
“Something Mum put in the margins of her book. She says to add chicken bouillon, because it makes the potion taste like chicken soup, and apparently, it’s the only way that Charlie would take it. The bouillon doesn’t affect the potion’s active ingredients.” Ginny shrugged. “I always make it this way for James and Albus, and they’ve never balked at taking it.”
Hermione handed over the cube, thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that,” she said. “Rose has never liked this one.”
Ginny hummed to herself as she mixed in the potion ingredients into the broth base. Stirring quickly twice with her long, brass ladle, the potion turned a bright pink. “All ready!” she said cheerfully, ladling out a generous measure into a small bowl. She summoned a small spoon and handed both to Hermione.
Hermione took the bowl and set it down on the table, and picked up the spoon. “Open up, popkin,” Hermione said. “It’s good for you.”
Rose tried to avoid the spoon valiantly, but Hermione eventually succeeded in popping it into Rose’s mouth. Ginny had to laugh as Rose looked momentarily confused, and then willingly submitted to another spoonful. “What did I tell you?” Ginny chuckled. “Mum’s notes work every time.”
“Your mother should write her own book,” Hermione said.
A chime rang from a clock-like object on the table in the hallway by the stairs. “Nappy time!” a voice called out. A baby shower gift from Fluer, it was tied by charm to the boy’s nappies, and helped Ginny stay on top of nappy changes.
Ginny groaned. “Which one this time?” she wondered aloud.
++
Harry arrived home and found his wife cross legged on the floor of the nursery with his two sons.
“Dadee!” James cried out, and toddled toward him.
“Hey there, big guy!” Harry said, hoisting his son into his arms. “How are you today?”
James giggled in response, hugging his father tightly. Harry reached in his pocket, and pulled out a couple of small sweets. “Nicked these off your Uncle Ron’s desk,” he said, holding them up. James grabbed one and popped it into his mouth, and Albus waved his arms at him until Harry gave him one. Ginny rolled her eyes at him.
Harry knew that soon he would have to start being careful not to spoil the boys, but the novelty of being a father, and making sure the boys had a father they would know and love and grow up with still hadn’t worn off. He wanted to give them all the things he’d never had, growing up as an orphan. But on the other hand, he didn’t want them to end up like Dudley, either.
“How was your day?” Harry asked as Ginny stood up and he stooped slightly to meet her lips for a quick kiss. “Boys behaving?”
“We need more sharing lessons,” Ginny said. “But that’s typical at this age. I cheated once, I used that duplicating spell you taught me, so we could have two stuffed Quaffles for a bit,” she explained.
“Maybe we should just get another,” Harry mused. “Can never have too many Quaffles around…”
“While there’s merit to that idea, husband of mine,” Ginny said wryly, “It would defeat the purpose of the sharing lessons.”
Harry grinned ruefully. “Well, you’re right about that,” he said. “Dinner smells wondrous by the way.” His stomach rumbled audibly and James giggled.
“Tummy!” he exclaimed, reaching down to punch Harry squarely in the chest.
“Oof,” Harry wheezed out, more startled than hurt. “James,” he said firmly. “We don’t hit people.”
“Come on,” Ginny said, picking up Albus. “Dinner’s nearly ready, and it’s your turn to feed Al.” Just then Albus sneezed mightily, and rubbed his nose. Ginny looked at him narrowly.
“What’s the matter?” Harry asked, seeing her concern.
“Hermione stopped by a few minutes ago…Rosie caught Ron’s cold. I had hoped that the boys hadn’t caught yours…now I’m not so sure.”
Harry looked at his son. “Looks fine to me. Maybe his nose is just itchy.”
Ginny looked at her son’s eyes. “Maybe,” she allowed. But she didn’t look convinced.
After dinner, Harry indulged himself in one his favourite pastimes...teaching the boys about Quidditch. Ginny was more understanding in this sort of thing than Hermione tended to be, because of her years with the Harpies and now with the Prophet. Ginny was on vacation until the resumption of the professional season, later in the spring.
James giggled madly as Harry help guide him across the room while he rode on his toy broomstick. Albus squealed happily as Ginny tossed him the toy Bludger and he knocked it back to her.
“I think Al’s going to be a Beater,” Ginny observed. “Maybe we should have George give him some lessons.”
Harry sighed. “That prospect might be just enough to get him to pick up the bat again.”
While the pain of Fred’s death had faded with time, George was still reluctant to play Beater without his twin. It seemed to still hurt too much. But even that seemed to be healing, with time.
As James went floating slowly by Ginny’s head, she tossed the toy Quaffle up to him. He grabbed the plush toy and gave a squeal of delight.
Albus, on the other hand, looked sullen at the attention Ginny gave to James, and he crawled into her lap. He looked tired. Ginny looked concerned and put a hand to his forehead.
“Fever?” Harry asked.
“I don’t think so,” Ginny said. “But I still think he might be coming down with something.
By bedtime, Harry had to admit that Ginny was probably right about Al. He’d been listless after dinner, his eyes appeared watery and his nose was stuffy. He clung to Ginny tightly, not wanting to be put down for bed.
“Looks like we’d better dig out your Mum’s book,” Harry observed, as Ginny finally got Al down and he was drifting off to sleep, snuffling gently through his congestion.
Ginny nodded. “And James will be next, of course,” she said softly. She poked him in the chest. “I blame you.”
“Me?” Harry raised his eyebrows.
“Well, you and Ron anyway,” Ginny added. “Did you have to follow him into that swamp?” she asked rhetorically as they made their way down the hallway toward the bedroom.
“Didn’t have a whole lot of choice,” Harry said defensively, pealing off his shirt and tossing it toward the laundry hamper.
Ginny shook her head, her long red braid bobbing as she rolled her eyes. Harry loved her braid, had loved it since she started wearing it that way back in Hogwarts during Quidditch. And he loved it even more when he got to help her take it down. “Want some help combing that out?” he asked.
Ginny shook her head. “Not right now,” she said. “But you could come rub my shoulders,” she suggested. She sat down on the edge of the bed.
Harry sat down on the bed, and scooted behind her, beginning to massage her shoulders. Ginny carried her tension in the muscles in her shoulders, and she began to moan appreciatively as he kneaded with his thumbs. Slowly, Harry let a smile creep across his face as he tugged her shirt down her arm a little, exposing her delightfully freckled shoulder. He kept rubbing her shoulder, and began to plant soft kisses on the exposed part of her shoulder. Ginny shifted slightly, and Harry shifted toward her neck. Abruptly, Ginny pulled away.
“None of that, now, Mr. Potter,” she scolded, rising from the bed and beginning to undress.
“Aww.” Harry sat up. “How come?”
“Because of you, I’m going to spend the next week taking care of two consecutively sick children. You don’t deserve it. I’ll be lucky not to get sick myself,” she said, as she turned around. Her mouth was speaking no, but her eyes were saying something completely different.
“Well, if you think you’re going to get sick,” Harry said, rising from the bed, “Don’t you think we should take advantage of the time you have while you’re healthy?” He crossed toward her.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “That’s probably the weakest line you’ve ever come up with, Potter. And that includes the time you told it was my patriotic duty to relieve the stress of a war hero.”
Harry grinned ruefully. “Okay, so it was pretty lame, but I’d been away for three weeks.”
“And we weren’t married yet, and it was at my parents’ house,” she pointed out, but she was grinning wickedly.
“It’s a good thing that I’m good at Silencing Charms, then,” Harry said. “Want me to demonstrate now?” he added suggestively.
“Mmmm,” Ginny said, leaning in for a kiss.
Harry raised his hand. He had long since learned to do Silencing Charms silently, and was about to cast one when the mood was spoiled permanently.
“Mummy,” a plaintive voice called. “Tummy hurt.” This was followed by the unmistakable sound of retching.
Ginny sighed, reaching for her robe and belting it around her waist. “Looks like you’d better practice Scourgify instead,” she sighed.
++
Ginny took only marginal comfort in the knowledge that she had correctly predicted that both boys would be sick. First Al, then James were down with runny noses, fever, and nausea, the latter probably caused by the former.
Her mother’s book was more than invaluable. When Ginny wasn’t sitting with the boys, she was at the stove, stirring up potions for runny noses, and mixing up poultices for fever. This, of course, was in between the usual routine of changing nappies, meals and playtime. The one redeeming quality in this was neither of the boys had a lot of energy, and so therefore they were less inclined to get into serious trouble, or stir up any major sibling spats. Cranky and whingey were the worst they managed to conjure up.
To his credit, Harry was very helpful whenever he got home in the evening, taking over watching the boys so she could at least a have a few minutes of peace. Tonight, Harry offered to take them outside for a little bit. Ginny had been hesitant at first, because they still weren’t feeling good, but Harry pointed out that they would be fine for a few hours, and that fresh air was good for them. It was starting to warm up a little on nice days, even though true spring was a bit away. She watched them in the back garden from the bedroom window as Harry levitated first one, and then the other, in some kind of game. She smiled gratefully and headed for the bathroom.
The master bathroom had an oversized tub and she began to fill it, pouring in some “Ever-Bubble Bath Salts” before slipping into the tub. A quick flick of her wrist lit the scented candles that Hermione gave her every year at her birthday. Another flick of her wrist brought the trashy novel from the counter by the sink, and it hovered in the air, just above her head, so she would never have to get it wet. Hermione had lent her this one. Hermione usually charmed the covers of the books to hide their content, as if she was embarrassed to be caught reading something so frivolous, but Ginny didn’t bother. Last summer, Ginny’d been reading one out in the garden when Ron and Hermione stopped by. Hermione had been quite vexed with Ginny when, upon Ron’s asking where she’d gotten it, Ginny’d told him that she’d got it from Hermione.
The pages turned with a flick of her fingers as the book hovered there, and she sighed as she settled herself further into the fizzing bathwater.
She must have drifted off at some point, because she woke with a start. Harry was there, peeling off his own clothes.
“The boys?” she asked drowsily.
“Asleep,” he said. He stripped down, and Ginny eyed him appreciatively through slitted eyes. He pulled out his wand and Ginny felt the water warm back up as he cast a warming charm on it.
“Join me?” she asked.
“Though you’d never ask,” he grinned as he slipped into the tub next to her, and leaning over to kiss her.
“How about that Silencing Charm you’re so proud of?” she asked, tracing lazy designs on his back with a wet fingernail as she embraced him.
Harry grinned, and took one hand and waved it sharply. Ginny felt the magic as the charm settled on the room. She smiled and twined her arms about his neck as she kissed him soundly.
+++
To Harry, it seemed as though the boys seemed to not want to get better. Their colds lingered for nearly a week, and Harry became concerned enough to suggest taking them to St. Mungo’s. Ginny scoffed at the idea, but finally relented. She was, however, smugly self-satisfied when the Healers had told her that it was probably a virus, and would run its course in due time.
Meanwhile, Hermione had come down with the cold, caught from Rose, who’d caught it from Ron. Ginny did what she could to help, taking Rose off Hermione’s hands when she could. In turn, Harry tried to do more for Ginny. They hadn’t had very much time to themselves since the night in the bath, and mostly, they just collapsed into bed at the end of the day, after getting Rose returned to Hermione and their own boys to bed.
Harry had been impressed that Ginny hadn’t yet gotten sick. He mentioned this to her one night as they lay in bed together before falling asleep.
“Mum’s book. On one of the pages, she’s pencilled in instructions for a potion that’s supposed to help keep you healthy. I’ve been taking it since you got sick,” Ginny explained. She didn’t know if her mother had invented it, or why it wasn’t more commonly known. It seemed to work pretty well, and didn’t even taste that bad.
“Oh. An immunity booster. The Muggles sell those, too,” Harry said. “Maybe I should get some,” he mused. “It might help Ron and me the next time we have to go running around in the swamps in the rain.”
“A better suggestion would be to conjure yourself a mac and some Wellies,” Ginny said. “Didn’t Auror training teach you how to conjure protective gear?”
“We were in a hurry,” Harry said defensively.
Ginny snorted and rolled over.
+++
Harry had jinxed it. That was all there was to it. Ginny woke the following morning with a sore throat, and a headache. At least James and Al were starting to feel better. Hermione was still sick, and Ginny couldn’t bear the thought of three active children in her house. And James was now reaching an age where he might perform accidental magic at any moment, and that was beginning to weigh heavily on her mind. It would be just like him to do something big, messy, and possibly dangerous.
Ginny got both the boys up, and changed their nappies. Albus watched fascinated, as he always did, as she Vanished both the dirty nappies after she finished. He always spent a few minutes afterwards looking for them, as if it was part of a game, before he gave up. Then she took them downstairs to feed them breakfast.
James clapped his hands and cried out, trying to catch the bowls as they went floating by toward the table, while Ginny rummaged in the pantry for the boy’s cereal. Ginny rummaged for a few more moments, frowning. Then she glanced back over her shoulder, and saw the empty box on the counter with a note on it. In Harry’s neat block letters, she read.
Ginny, I finished these up this morning, sorry about that. You’ll have to get more. Love, Me.
The day was not starting well.
+++
Harry knew he was in trouble when he got home. He could hear yelling from upstairs from his spot in the front hall. When he reached the nursery, he found James screaming, Albus bawling in Ginny’s arms, and Ginny in tears. Immediately, he scooped up James and Albus, kissed Ginny on the forehead, and took the boys downstairs. He got them settled down, and made a dinner out of a box.
Ginny came down after a bit, calmed down, but still looking miserable.
“Feeling better?” Harry asked.
“Not really,” Ginny croaked. “My throat hurts, and my head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton balls. And it’s all your fault.”
“I’ll send an owl. I’ll take tomorrow off at least, and take care of the kids for you. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to Floo your Mum once in a while.”
Ginny glared at him. And it wasn’t a good glare. It was the Weasley Death Glare. “We’ve been over this, Potter. I’m not about to admit to my mother that I can’t handle two children, when my mother had seven.” She finished in a bout of coughing that left her bent double.
Harry poured her a glass of water, which she took gratefully. “Would you like anything to eat?” he asked. Ginny shook her head.
“The very thought of food is making me queasy. I’m going to bed,” she announced.
Ginny kissed James and Albus goodnight and went upstairs. Harry heard her getting ready for bed. By the time he had the boys fed, cleaned up, and down for bed, she was sound asleep.
Harry sighed and got himself ready for bed. He had trouble getting to sleep, as Ginny was sprawled rather awkwardly in their bed, leaving Harry to try and fold himself around her, but he finally managed it.
It was very early in the morning when Harry woke up again, and he had a disoriented moment while he tried to determine what exactly had woken him. The empty space in the bed where Ginny should be, and then the sound of retching from the master bathroom helped him put the pieces together and he rose at once.
“Ginny? Are you alright?”
Ginny sat on the floor, with her head resting on the edge of the toilet, as if the cool porcelain gave her some relief. She didn’t even look up to glare at him, which was a bad sign. Harry knelt on the floor next to her, putting his hand to her forehead.
“You’re burning up,” he observed. She groaned. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. She shook her head fractionally, and then sat up suddenly, and was sick once more into the bowl.
Harry sat with her, patting her back, until she was once again, resting her head and panting. “I’ll be right back,” he said. He conjured a glass, and filled it with water from the sink, and took a face towel from the rack and wet it down. He performed a cooling charm on both the water and the wet towel. Ginny gratefully took the glass, and rinsed her mouth out before gently sipping some water, and murmured appreciatively as he placed the cool towel on her forehead.
“What else can I get you?” Harry asked his wife softly. “Anything at all?”
“Potion,” Ginny breathed. “Bottled Extra,” she managed. “Behind the mirror.”
Harry opened the cabinet behind the mirror and pulled out one of the small bottles of pink goopy potion that Ginny had bottled when she made up the Stomach-Settler potion for the boys. Harry was very familiar with it, having taken it himself on many occasions, and of course, Ginny had nearly lived on the stuff when she’d been pregnant with both of the boys. He uncorked it and knelt down next to Ginny. “Do you need help?”
She shook her head, and took the potion from him. She pulled her head up, pinched her nose, and drank the potion down. She pulled a face and shuddered as she finished. It didn’t taste good…potions rarely did.
“Why don’t I help you back to bed,” Harry suggested. Ginny nodded, and Harry helped her up and guided her back to bed. He helped get her situated in the blankets, and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Try and get some sleep, love,” he whispered.
She murmured something, but it was in the pillow and indistinct. Harry stroked her long red-gold hair until her breathing evened out.
When Harry got up with the boys in the morning, he let Ginny sleep. He gathered up the boys and took them to the Burrow. Molly was delighted to see the boys, and they were soon ensconced on the cosy living room floor with the box of communal toys, shared by all the Weasley cousins.
“How bad is it?” Molly asked him, once the boys were happily playing.
“Pretty bad,” Harry admitted. “Ron and I were sick for a week, but the boys seem to have been worse, and now it looks like Ginny’s pretty miserable.”
Molly tut-tutted. “I read in the Daily Prophet that there’s a nasty bug going around,” she said. “And Andromeda said that Teddy was sick recently, too.”
“I’m supposed to see them tomorrow,” Harry said, remembering belatedly. “I should let Andromeda know that the boys have been sick. Do you think Teddy would catch it again?”
Molly shook her head. “No, he should be alright. And you should go. I’m sure Teddy’s looking forward to seeing you and the boys. And it will let Ginny have more time to herself.”
Harry nodded. “You know she treats that book you gave her like holy writ, right? I’m not sure we could live without it now,” Harry pointed out.
Molly smiled. “Of course, dear. I couldn’t live without it either when the children were growing up.”
“You made a lot of good notes, too,” Harry pointed out. “You should write your own parenting book…or at least let Hermione ghost write it for you.”
Molly gave a little laugh. “Oh no. Some of those things I wrote aren’t exactly ministry approved after all. I’m sure they wouldn’t like some of the side effects.”
Before Harry could ask what she meant, there was a cry from the living room, and Harry had to go mediate the latest sharing lesson.
++
Ginny was feeling slightly more human by Saturday afternoon. She actually didn’t remember very much of Saturday morning, and even less of Friday, only that the house seemed abnormally quiet. But she was sufficiently aware by the afternoon to notice Harry returning from Andromeda’s with the boys.
“How was Teddy?” she asked Harry, after greeting the boys. The boys were excited to see her up and about, but Harry quickly moved them to the nursery, where their enthusiasm wouldn’t tax her. She was curled up in her favourite spot on the couch, and Harry settled on the opposite end, and took her feet in his lap.
“He’s great,” Harry said. “He’s going to be quite the flier. Still not sure if he’s Chaser or Seeker material, but he’ll be good either way. And he had Al and James enthralled with his hair-colour changes.”
Ginny smiled. “Has Andromeda given up trying to keep him from changing his hair red yet?”
Harry grinned and shook his head. “No…I swear that boy really does think he’s a Weasley sometimes. But I think she secretly prefers it to the black hair that he wears around me, since black reminds her too much of her sister.” He looked at her critically. “How are you feeling, really?” he asked.
Ginny shrugged. “Not great. Only a little better than yesterday,” she said. “I’m tired, my throat hurts, and my head is stuffy. And while I don’t feel like I’m going to throw up now, it’ll probably be back. It’s been coming and going all day.”
Harry shook his head. “I’m sorry, love. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Ginny shook her head. “You’ve been wonderful, Harry. Thank you.”
Just then, there was a crash from upstairs, and one of the boys began to wail. Harry shook his head. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, as he rose from the couch.
Ginny was sick all week. She only had a few really bad episodes, but she was nauseas nearly the whole time. She thought she was starting to feel better by Thursday afternoon, but she was throwing up again Friday morning. She improved as the day went on, but she was sick again on Saturday morning, and Harry noticed. “I’d hoped you were getting over this. I hope it isn’t turning into pneumonia.”
Ginny shook her head. “No, it’s not in my chest,” she said. “But I’m still pretty tired and nauseas most of the time.”
Harry nodded. “It’s a nice afternoon,” Harry said “I’ll take the boys outside for a while so you can take a nap.”
And he did, and she felt better by evening, but the next morning, she was sick again.
Harry’s brow was furrowed as she downed more of the pink stuff. “This is weird,” he said. “Why would your cold be coming back now? You were fine yesterday afternoon.”
Ginny shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Harry, Ginny and the boys had dinner at the Burrow that night, along with Ron, Hermione and Rose. About halfway through dinner, Ron cleared his throat. “We have an announcement,” he said. He and Hermione grinned. “We’re going to have another baby.”
There was general congratulations, and much discussion about the new baby. After dinner, when the men took the children out to the garden, Molly, Hermione and Ginny stayed behind in the kitchen.
“We think it’s a boy this time,” Hermione said. “Well, I think it’s a boy, and Ron’s terribly hopeful. Not that he doesn’t love Rose, of course, but he’s really hoping for a boy.”
“How are you feeling?” Ginny asked.
“Ok,” Hermione said. “That cold I had a couple weeks back was really miserable, since I already had morning sickness.”
“And how are you feeling, Ginny?” Molly asked. “Harry said you’ve been very ill.”
Ginny nodded. “It’s been awful. I was throwing up all week. And just when I thought I was getting over it, it comes back.” She shook her head. “That potion you wrote in your book helped for a while, but in the end, the cold caught up with me.”
Molly looked up sharply. “Which potion is that?” she asked.
“Oh, the one you wrote in on the preventative measures page. The one you said would help keep you from getting sick,” Ginny said. “I don’t know why you didn’t publish it. Most of the time it seems to work great.”
Molly inhaled sharply. “Ginny, some of those potions…they have, erm…side effects. How long have you been taking that potion?”
“Oh, since Harry got sick, why?” Ginny asked, confused. She looked up. “Am I not supposed to take it that long? Is it making me sick?”
Molly coughed strangely, as if she was trying not laugh. “No, dear, not exactly. But have you and Harry…oh, dear, how to put this...been…intimate, since he got sick?”
Ginny blushed to the roots of her hair. “Mum!” she gasped. “What…?” she sputtered.
“Well, that particular potion. It…erm…rather increases your chances of getting pregnant. Substantially.”
Ginny gaped at her.
“How do you know?” Hermione asked.
“Well, Charlie, Percy and the twins were born about nine months after I took the potion while Arthur had a cold,” Molly said. “Arthur always liked to celebrate after he got healthy again…”
“Mum!” Ginny protested, covering her ears.
“…and it always seemed like it happed then, so I had Dumbledore look at the potion instructions. He told me it was among the more powerful fertility potions he had run across…” Molly trailed off as Ginny’s eyes widened as she began to fully comprehend what her mother was telling her.
Ginny looked from her mother, to Hermione, and back to her mother, as both women began to grin knowingly at her.
“Ginny, your nausea...when is it worst?” Hermione asked
“In the morn…” Ginny stopped. “Mum, I don’t suppose you remember the diagnostic charm?”
Her mother laughed. “Of course, my dear.”
++
After Ginny had helped him put the boys down for the night, Harry found her sitting on their bed, staring at him with her eyes sparkling.
“Harry?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“I think I know why I’m still sick,” she said.
“Oh?” Harry looked up just then. “What is it?”
“Well…It’s your fault.”
Harry snorted. “I thought we’d established that. It was my cold.”
“No…it was your Silencing Charms. And your cold,” she allowed. “Because that made me take the potion."
Harry furrowed his brow. “Silencing Charms? What potion?”
“You remember that potion I was taking to try and keep from getting sick. Mum told me that it’s got some interesting side effects. It increased our odds, somewhat.”
Harry looked at her confused. “What on earth are you talking about, love?”
She smiled at him just then, and her hand strayed to her belly. “I should have known, of course, but the cold confused me. I just thought it was coming back, but it was something else entirely…” she trailed off.
Harry stared at her for a moment, the gears slowly grinding into motion. “Ginny…you’re…”
She nodded.
Harry jumped onto the bed next to her and gathered her up into a fierce hug.
“You realize we’re going to be outnumbered now,” she said.
“We can handle it,” Harry said confidently. “We can do anything together. We were outnumbered with just James, what difference will one more make.”
Ginny smiled at him. “I hope it’s a girl,” she said quietly. “I’d like to have a girl.”
“Me too,” Harry said. “After all, we’ve already got one kid who looks like me, and I want to have one that looks like you, and it would look strange on a boy,” he grinned.
Ginny laughed.