Summary: A series of one-shots featuring our favorite couple. I'll try to keep them in chronological order!
Rating: PG
Categories: Post-OotP
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2017.09.26
Updated: 2017.09.26
Index
Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - Bag
Chapter 2: Chapter 2 - Baby Whisperer
Chapter 3: Chapter 3 - Scorpius Malfoy
Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - Bag
Author's Notes: Written for the 2017 Houses Competition
Prompt: Bag
Ginny is having one hell of a morning. Her alarm didn’t go off, so she was late to breakfast, but she was so hungry that she still attempted to fix her normal amount of toast, which made her late to History of Magic. Also, while scooting into her seat, she dropped the last two pieces of toast and they landed on her skirt, jam-side down, before sliding slowly down her stocking and coming to rest next to her book bag. Hell of a morning? Make that a morning from hell.
“Ugh,” Ginny groans under her breath, peeking under her desk to survey her jam-smeared skirt and left shin. She can feel the stickiness of the jam oozing through her tights, and Ginny thumps her head onto her desk. Her stomach growls loudly, and Ginny shuts her eyes in frustration. Late alarm, less-than-filling breakfast, late to class, sticky tights, plus a headache now raging behind her eyes, all in the first hour of the day. Merlin.
“Ginny?” Luna’s soft, dreamy voice interrupts her wallowing.
Ginny opens her eyes and turns, but doesn’t lift her head off the desk. “Hi, Luna,” Ginny whispers dully.
Luna doesn’t seem to notice her less-than-enthusiastic greeting, and points at the trail of jam on Ginny’s wardrobe. “Want me to Tergeo it for you, or are you trying to attract a dabberblimp?”
“A what, Luna?” Ginny’s head is too heavy for her to follow her friend’s question.
“A dabberblimp. They live in the water, but sometimes they can be tempted to come ashore with something sweet. Do you want one to find you, or shall I clean your clothes off for you?”
“You can clean them. Thanks, Luna.” Ginny smiles at her friend and, with great effort, hoists her head off the desk. Luna points her wand at Ginny’s legs and Ginny feels the stickiness leave her skirt and tights. At least one part of the morning can be corrected.
Ginny manages to stay awake through Professor Binns’ monotonous lecture, but her stomach rumbles the whole time. As soon as the bell rings, she grabs her things and bolts, waving a hasty farewell to Luna over her shoulder. Just last week, her mum had sent a care package , and Ginny was thankful that she had forced herself to save a couple treacle tarts.
Ginny glances at her watch as she climbs the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. Five minutes until her next class, which is barely enough time to make it to her room and back to class. Ginny speeds up, heart and head pounding with every step. She reaches the Fat Lady and barely lets the portrait greet her before blurting the password and pushing through to the Common Room. “No manners,” she hears the Fat Lady exclaim behind her.
“No time for manners,” Ginny mutters to herself as she rushes up the staircase to her room. The dorm is empty; all the other Fifth Year Gryffindor girls are probably already outside for their Care of Magical Creatures class. Ginny hurls herself at her trunk and flings it open, shoving aside the pajamas she had hastily discarded earlier. Aha! Brown paper is sticking out under a pair of stockings. Ginny grabs the package, careful not to crush its contents. She lets the lid of her trunk slam shut as she turns to leave the room.
Ginny makes it out of Gryffindor Tower and is halfway to the Entrance Hall when she opens her care package. She stops in her tracks. Inside the brown paper is not a delicious treacle tart made lovingly by her mother’s hands, but instead a coiled rubber snake...and a note? Suspiciously, Ginny reaches into the paper wrapping and pulls out a scrap of parchment, on which is written: Have some fun with this, Gin. We just developed it! - Gred and Forge
Ginny groans. Of all the times for Fred and George to sneak a trick pastry into her mail…. She appreciates the gesture, really, and wishes she had discovered it sooner, as her stomach is still grumbling, more insistently now, but she is going to be late for her second class today if she doesn’t hurry.
Shoving the note and the toy snake into her bag, Ginny starts running. Out the door, down the stairs, and across the grass, she dashes all the way to the spot where her Care of Magical Creatures class is gathering. Ginny ducks her head -which is aching even more after her sprint- to avoid catching Hagrid’s eye as she joins her classmates. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice her tardiness or if he does, he doesn’t comment.
Ginny finds herself looking longingly towards the castle as the class goes on. Normally Hagrid’s classes are engaging and Ginny enjoys them, but today… her stomach has stopped rumbling and has settled into an unpleasant knot; her head is pounding more insistently, and halfway through class, Ginny realizes that her textbook is not in her bag. She curses under her breath. “Could this day get any worse?” she mutters.
Finally, after what feels like the longest Care of Magical Creatures class in her life, Hagrid dismisses them. Ginny hikes her bag over her shoulder and falls into step with the rest of her class trekking across the grounds. At the Entrance Hall, most of her classmates head towards the Great Hall for lunch, but Ginny forces herself to head back to Gryffindor Tower. Despite Luna’s earlier Tergeo, Ginny can feel her stockings sticking to her shins, and she wants to make sure she has the right books in her bag for her afternoon classes. With a great sigh, Ginny begins to climb the stairs.
Halfway up the stairs, two eager First Years rush past her, bumping her into the railing. A terrible ripping sound catches Ginny’s attention a moment before her textbooks tumble onto her feet. One lands directly on the arch of her left foot; one hits her shin and then bounces down a few stairs; and one, the heaviest, A History of Magic, thumps solidly onto her right foot and stays there as if taunting her.
Ginny’s jaw drops, but no sound comes out of her mouth. Then she notices the toy snake sliding down the stairs as well, and a few of her quills are rolling away from her, and her essay for McGonagall, the one she spent hours working on, is getting trampled on by other students on the stairs. Ginny can take no more: tears spring to her eyes, and against her will, a great hiccuping sob escapes her.
She stands there helplessly, a few tears tracing down her cheeks as she watches her things roll down the stairs and get stepped on by careless, hungry students. Her head aches very badly, and it’s all she can do not to have a complete melt-down and collapse right there on the stairs. As if to join the misery party, her stomach gives a pathetic grumble.
“Ginny?” A voice behind her forces her back to the present. Harry is standing two stairs above her, looking concerned and slightly flushed. “Do you, er, need some help?” He motions to her feet, and Ginny nods miserably.
Harry crouches and begins picking up her books. “Ouch. Did they land right on you?” He looks up at her and Ginny nods again. He looks away quickly, and Ginny blushes. She’s heard Harry tell Ron and Hermione about how uncomfortable he was when Cho cried, and Ginny takes a deep breath.
She wipes her face on her sleeve and hunches next to Harry, reaching for her Transfiguration essay. With a few mild cleaning charms and some Spell-o-tape, she may be able to salvage it. Ginny folds the parchment carefully and moves to put it in her bag, then pauses, realizing that her essay was on the floor only because her bag split. “Bugger,” she whispers emphatically, staring at the frayed edges of what was the seam. “Bugger it all to hell,” she says louder, and Harry turns towards her.
“Oh, no, is that what started all this?” He’s looking at her bag, and then his eyes meet hers, and she swears he blushes. Interesting. She decides that maybe, just maybe, her day may improve. She smiles at Harry, and now she is sure of his blush.
Ginny moves to pick up the toy snake that is two steps below them and answers Harry, “Actually, this whole morning has been a bloody nightmare. But yes, the bag is what started-” she waves her arm around at the mess radiating from them “-this specific situation.”
“I’m sorry, Ginny,” Harry says quietly. “Do you want to talk about it?” He stacks her textbooks on the stair next to his knee and reaches for her bag. “Reparo,” he mutters with a wave of his wand.
She takes the bag from him with a soft “thanks,” making sure their hands touch, and picks up her books and loads them into the bag. She considers Harry’s question; she could tell him about her hellish day, could vent and rage, and then what? Say goodbye, thanks for listening, and go back to class? Would she feel better afterwards? Possibly. Or…
“Would you go flying with me, Harry?” she asks suddenly, surprising herself. Harry appears just as shocked, and she clarifies, “I mean, not right now. I want to eat an actual meal first, but after classes? This day has truly been awful, and I think,” she sighs, trying to push all the incidents of the morning out of her mind, “I think that a fly would do me good.”
Her eyes close as she pictures herself on her broom, soaring around the grounds. Just thinking about flying makes her feel better, and Ginny smiles to herself, forgetting for a moment that she was late to two classes earlier, that her stomach is growling insistently, that her bag split, that Harry is kneeling on the stairs next to her.
“I’ll go flying with you,” Harry blurts, yanking Ginny out of her reverie. Her jaw drops a little, and Harry stammers, “After dinner, er, I’ll meet you outside the Great Hall, and, uh, we’ll go flying.”
Ginny shuts her mouth abruptly and then grins at Harry. He hesitantly smiles back at her. Ginny takes the opportunity to appreciate the green of Harry’s eyes, and unconsciously she licks her lips. Harry’s gaze flicks to her mouth, and Ginny’s stomach twists in a way that is not related to hunger.
“Oi, Harry!” Ron’s voice cuts through the faint buzzing in Ginny’s ears, and she and Harry both look down the stairs. Ron is standing between the staircase and the entrance to the Great Hall, motioning for Harry to join him. “Come on! Hurry up, I’m starving!”
Harry looks back at Ginny. She rolls her eyes at Ron and grabs three loose quills off the ground, shoving them into her now-repaired bag. “Go ahead, Harry, I’ve got it here,” she tells him, standing. Harry stands up as well, handing her the last few parchments from the ground. She takes it from him, fingers sparking as they skim his, and he glances at her quickly as he takes a step down the stairs. She smiles at him again, “See you later, Harry.”
He moves down a couple more stairs, still looking at her. “See you after dinner, Ginny,” he says, grinning, and then he turns and jogs down the stairs towards Ron, who, seeing Harry’s approach, is already almost to the doors of the Great Hall. Ginny stands still for a moment, thinking about the last few minutes, and then she sees Harry, pausing before the doors, look back at her and wave. Ginny grins and waves back; Harry moves his hand to tousle his hair and then he goes in to lunch. Ginny’s grin widens. Perhaps this day will end much better than it began.
Chapter 2: Chapter 2 - Baby Whisperer
Author's Notes: Domestic!Hinny with baby James Sirius
It feels as though Ginny had just drifted back to sleep when her son starts crying again. Harry grunts beside her, then pushes the covers aside, mumbling, “I’m on it” through a yawn. Ginny burrows deeper into the covers, then stops, realizing that if James is hungry, she will need to be at least somewhat out from under the blanket. Eyes shut, she waits, half-listening to Harry as he stumbles to James’ crib at the foot of their bed.
“Hey, little man, are you hungry already? Didn’t your mum just feed you, because I swear she was just up…” Harry trails off as he picks up the baby, and Ginny smiles to herself.
At the age of 16, she had thought that she knew what it was to be in love with Harry Potter. When they had reunited after Voldemort’s defeat, after Harry’s death-ish experience, Ginny had found new depths of love. Marrying him three years ago was the best decision Ginny ever made. In the last four months, however, since James was born, Ginny has fallen in love with Harry all over again. Watching Harry embrace fatherhood has been, perhaps, the best part of becoming a mother.
James has stopped crying and is now snuffling in that cute newborn way, and Ginny peeks open one eye to watch. James is tucked under Harry’s chin, and Harry is bouncing and swaying in a pattern that Ginny recognizes. James recognizes it too, and he lets out the tiniest sigh. Harry grins and kisses the top of James’ head.
Unfortunately, that seems to startle James, and he lets out a loud wail. Ginny sighs and pulls Harry’s pillow on top of her head, and Harry groans a bit and bounces a bit more exuberantly.
“Oi, Dad, I’m too cool for kisses, leave me alone.” Despite trying to fall back asleep, Ginny snorts. Harry is using what he calls his Baby Whisperer voice.
It started during her pregnancy, right as she began to show. Harry would talk to Ginny’s stomach and tell the baby about all the things they would see or do together, then he would reply to himself using this voice. The baby’s “answers” were usually quite cheeky, and Ginny had rolled her eyes every time.
Harry stops talking and begins “shush”-ing in rhythm with his sways, and gradually James quiets again.
Ginny begins to doze again, and in just a few minutes Harry climbs into bed next to her. He grabs his pillow off her face and pulls her close, and Ginny turns and wraps an arm around him, pushing her face into his chest.
“Thank you for taking such good care of our baby,” Ginny mumbles sleepily against Harry’s shirt. Harry says nothing, just kisses the top of Ginny’s head and squeezes her a bit tighter.
*********************************************************************************************************************
In the morning, Ginny wakes to an empty bedroom and the smells of bacon. Bless Harry, she thinks, getting out of bed and wrapping her dressing gown around her.
As she heads downstairs, the sound of James shrieking with laughter reaches her, and Ginny grins as she walks into the kitchen. Harry is standing with his back to her, waving his wand so that the bacon dances out of the frying pan and onto the nearby serving plate.
“Breakfast and a show, hmm?” At Ginny’s voice, Harry spins around, but the bacon, she is impressed to note, continues dancing its way to the plate.
“Morning, love. Did we wake you?” Harry moves to embrace her with his wand-free arm, and Ginny stands on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He turns and catches her mouth, and Ginny smiles. Harry has never been one for half greetings, and she wraps her arms around his neck and leans into him. Harry sets his wand down and grips her waist, and only after James squawks does he pull away slightly.
Ginny grins at Harry, who looks slightly dazed. “Thanks for letting me have a lie-in, love,” Ginny whispers, and Harry blinks at her.
“I’ll let you have a lie-in every morning if it means a greeting like that,” he smirks, and Ginny lifts one arm to smack his shoulder.
“Oi, you get plenty of attention no matter what time I wake up, and you know it,” she retorts, stepping away from him. “Are you fixing anything besides bacon, or shall I make something?”
“I’ve got toast warming in the tray, pancake batter already mixed, scones baking in the oven, and one of your mum’s breakfast casseroles ready to be heated whenever you want it. Is that enough for you?” Harry grins smugly at Ginny’s shocked face.
“You… all that… Harry…” For the first time in a long time, Ginny is rendered speechless, and Harry’s smile grows wider.
It’s not as if Harry has never made such gestures before; on the contrary, since before they were even engaged, Harry has delighted in surprising Ginny with various treats, spontaneous dates, and even a quick getaway to Bath when both Harry’s Auror training and Ginny’s Harpies schedules had miraculously aligned. Sometimes Harry reminded her of a special day worth honoring, like the anniversary of their first date or when Ginny was signed with the Harpies or when Harry graduated to full-fledged Auror.
Since James has been born, their relationship has been full not of romantic dates or flashy presents, but of soft touches and warm gazes. Harry has given Ginny the gift of sleep many times since James was past six weeks old, and Ginny has tried her best to express her gratitude and appreciation and love to Harry, through both words and touches. Now, since she cannot speak quite yet, she just reaches for Harry’s arm and grips it firmly.
“Glad you’re hungry, at least,” Harry says with a smile.
Ginny regains her capacity for speech and manages, “I don’t deserve you, I really don’t.” She turns to him and places her hands on his shoulders, but before she can move to kiss him again, James shrieks. Both Harry and Ginny turn towards him at once, expecting the worst, but James clearly just wants his parents’ attentions, and he waves his arms excitedly when he sees them watching.
Ginny drops her arms from Harry’s shoulders and steps away from him so she can pick up James. “Are you feeling neglected, little man? Do you need Mum and Dad’s attention every moment?!”
“Yes, Mum,” Harry responds in his Baby Whisperer voice, “I need your undivided attention every moment of every day. Don’t even think about kissing Dad when I’m in the room.” James laughs at Harry’s silly voice, and Ginny laughs as well. She turns her head to see Harry smiling at her, a look of pure adoration on his face.
Ginny spins James around and moves closer to Harry, who immediately wraps his arms around her and James. Ginny snuggles deeper into Harry’s embraces, shifting James to one arm so she can wrap the other around Harry’s waist. “I love our family,” Ginny says softly, and she feels Harry press a kiss to the side of her forehead.
“Me too,” Harry replies, his lips still close to her ear.
*********************************************************************************************************************
Their bedside clock reads 3:34am when James starts crying again. He must be teething, Ginny thinks, because this is the seventeenth time he has woken up since 8pm. She sighs and moves to get out of bed.
An odor reaches her before she reaches the crib, and Ginny wrinkles her nose. What did we feed him? Whatever it is, it is not agreeing with him. She grabs a clean nappy and picks up her son. “Hey, little man, has your tummy been hurting you? Or are you just stinking up the place to be a stinker?”
James’ cries get quieter but don’t stop, and Ginny picks up some diaper ointment before setting James down on the changing table. “Wow, son, you are ripe,” Ginny tells James, who stops crying as soon as Ginny unsnaps his onesie. His chubby thighs kick half-heartedly at Ginny’s hands as she pries off his jammies.
Ginny breathes through her mouth as she opens the full-to-bursting dirty diaper. Delicately, she begins to wipe. “Merlin, James, are you trying to murder us with your poo?”
“Oh, Mum, you know that I’m committed to making your life a living hell, so here’s my fifth poopy diaper of the night.”
Ginny jumps and whips her head over her shoulder; Harry is sitting up in bed, smirking at her.
“Did I wake you?” Even though everyone is awake, Ginny still keeps her voice at a whisper.
“Nah, I hadn’t fallen asleep from his last diaper.” Harry’s voice is low and gravelly, and Ginny shivers, appreciating how attractive Harry is, even in the middle of a sleepless night. He notices her staring, and winks at her. “Finish that diaper, love, and come back to bed.”
Ginny winks back at him. “Working on it, Potter, but someone’s son is quite messy.” Harry groans, leaning forward to see over the edge of the bed. “Yikes. He knows how to fill a diaper, doesn’t he?”
Ginny continues wiping James’ bum and begins to fasten on the clean nappy. “He does seem particularly talented in this area, yes.”
The nappy is fastened and Ginny directs James’ legs back into his jammies. Harry watches her silently, and adjusts the covers as Ginny places James back in the crib. She strokes his soft cheek, his eyes already drifting closed. “Goodnight, my love. Please stay asleep for a couple hours this time.”
Harry grins at her. “Think he’ll cooperate?”
Ginny climbs into bed and wraps her arm around Harry’s waist. “We’ll see. Let’s sleep while we can, eh?”
Harry slides his arm over her hip and up her back. “Love you, Gin.”
Eyes closed, snuggled close to Harry’s chest, Giny whispers back, “Love you, too.”
Chapter 3: Chapter 3 - Scorpius Malfoy
Author's Notes: Honestly, these characters crack me up. So sneaky, so sly.
Prompt: Scorpius Malfoy
Harry stared at the invitation in his hand. Ginny, passing the living room on her way to the laundry room, did a double take and came around the couch to stand by him, still holding James’ dirty pajamas. He didn’t look up at her, didn’t acknowledge her; he was too stunned.
“Harry,” Ginny asked slowly, “what’s wrong?”
Still not moving his eyes from the parchment in his hand, Harry gestured with his other hand. Ginny stepped closer to him and peered at the parchment. She let out a short laugh.
“Oh, Harry, the way you’re standing here, I thought something was really wrong!” She rested a hand on Harry’s arm, still laughing, but Harry only sucked in a breath and continued staring. Ginny stopped laughing and squeezed his arm.
“Harry?” she asked, worried now. “Harry, talk to me. It’s a birthday party invitation. Why is this such a big deal?”
Finally, Harry looked at her. “Did you see,” he asked in a low voice, “who the invitation is from?”
Frowning, Ginny looked at the parchment again, double-checking that she had read the name correctly. “From Draco and Astoria, right? For their son Scorpius? Oh, yes, right, Harry, he’s about Al’s age, or close to. Merlin, is Scorpius turning five? That means Al is almost five... I feel old now. At least a gift will be easy, since we know what almost-five-year-olds enjoy these days.”
“Ginny,” Harry said slowly, shaking his head, “you’re missing the point. Draco Malfoy just invited our family to his house for a birthday party. Malfoy. Potter. Birthday party. Surely you can understand how odd this is!”
Ginny laughed again and leant up to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Oh, Harry,” she said fondly, “I thought you said just the other week that you and Malfoy - gasp - cooperated on passing that new Auror policy, and, more shocking, you said that he was not as awful to work with as you expected.”
“But that’s-”
“And didn’t you say that it would be good to work together and get to know one another now, as fully grown wizards, instead of clinging to mistrust?”
“I did say that, but-”
“Harry,” Ginny cut him off sternly, “Draco is obviously trying to make an effort to put the past behind him. Something I think you know a lot about, right?”
Harry opened his mouth again, then shut it. He sighed. Ginny was right, and they both knew it. Of all people, Harry knew what it was like to try and move on from the past. If that meant attending a five-year-old’s birthday party, then so be it.
Ginny smiled pointedly at him with brows raised, and Harry sighed again. “I’ll respond that we are delighted to attend,” he said, and Ginny’s smile grew softer.
“Good decision, love,” she murmured, leaning up to kiss him again. “I promise that if it’s awful, we can leave after an hour and I’ll remind you how to really celebrate.”
Harry smiled, wrapped an arm around Ginny’s waist, and pulled her closer to him. “You’re not making it easy for me to have high hopes for this party, you realize,” he whispered in her ear.
Ginny winked at him. “Well, I could also reward you if we stay the whole time, so there’s an incentive.”
Harry rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. “You just want me to go to this party, one way or another, is that it?”
“Finally catching on, Potter?” Ginny pulled out of his arms after one last kiss. “I knew I married you for more than your wealth.”
*******************************************************
By the morning of Scorpius’ party, Harry had lost some of his enthusiasm. He fiddled with his robes in front of the mirror while Ginny sat and fixed her hair. “Remind me again why we’re going to this thing,” he whined.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “We’re going because Draco invited us. We’re going because we are adults and able to to move on from the past. We’re going because Ron and Hermione were also invited and I told Hermione that you were going, so Ron is also going.”
Harry grimaced at her, and Ginny sighed.
“You’re going because I’m going to reward your good behavior later,” Ginny said primly, and Harry leaned over and kissed her neck; she swatted him, and he grabbed her arm and kissed her wrist, too.
“Harry,” Ginny was smiling, but her tone was serious. “Harry, please, try and be nice to Draco and Astoria. They’ve taken the first step and invited us, and I think we could be maybe not quite friends, but respectful acquaintances. Albus and Scorpius are going to be classmates in a few years and we’re going to see a lot of the Malfoys at Ministry events, so we may as well embrace it and try to make the best of it. Please, Harry.” She stood and wrapped her arms around his waist, pushing her nose into his chest.
Harry linked his fingers behind Ginny’s back and kissed the top of her head. “Alright. I’ll give Malfoy a chance.”
“Call him Draco, Harry.” Ginny’s voice was muffled against his shirt, and Harry chuckled and sighed.
“Alright, Draco. I’ll give Draco a chance.” He nudged Ginny’s head with his cheek, and when she looked up at him, he smiled at her. “Do the number of chances I give him correspond to my rewards later?”
“Oi!” Ginny swatted him and pulled out of his embrace. “Go make sure your sons have shoes on.”
*********************************************************
Holding Lily on his hip, Harry raised a hand to knock on the front door of the Malfoy estate. Ginny stood next to him, one hand holding Albus’ hand, the other resting gently on Harry’s back. Her silent support calmed Harry’s nerves, and he took a deep breath and knocked firmly.
Almost immediately, the door was opened by a tall, slender woman who could only be Astoria Malfoy.
“Welcome, come in, thank you so much for coming,” she greeted them warmly. Harry tried to contain his surprise as she ushered them into the foyer, which was decorated with streamers and more balloons than Harry had ever seen in one place.
“Did you find us alright? Oh, let me call Draco,” said Astoria as she leaned down a hallway. Harry caught Ginny’s eye and raised a brow; she winked at him and then smiled broadly at the returning Astoria.
“Thank you so much for inviting us, Astoria, we’re thrilled to be here. And where is the birthday boy?” Ginny clasped Astoria’s hand in both of hers, like they were old friends reunited, and Harry looked away quickly, just in time to see Draco enter the foyer.
“Harry, Ginny, thanks for coming,” and Draco extended his hand to Harry. Harry looked him in the eye, took his hand, shook it firmly. It was odd, to be sure, to be called ‘Harry’ instead of ‘Potter’ by Draco, but Harry remembered Ginny’s warning and promise and decided to embrace it.
“Thanks for inviting us, Draco,” Harry replied. He shifted Lily on his hip. “I don’t know if you’ve met all my children yet. This is Lily,” he tilted his head, and Lily smiled shyly at Draco, who smiled slightly and nodded his head towards her.
“This is my oldest, James,” continued Harry, pointing to his son, who waved, “and this is my second born, Albus, who is just a couple months younger than Scorpius.” Albus grinned sheepishly, and Draco smiled kindly at them.
“Albus,” said Draco, and Harry smiled encouragingly at his son, “would you like to come into the parlor and meet Scorpius?”
Albus nodded and followed Draco down the hall. Harry quirked his head to James, who shrugged and followed Albus. Harry turned to Ginny, who was chatting with Astoria. She looked over at him and smiled, and Harry went to her side and kissed her cheek and whispered, “We’ll be in the parlor.” Ginny nodded, squeezed his arm briefly as he walked away.
******************************************************************
In the parlor, Harry found himself glad to be holding Lily; she gave him an excuse to leave small talk with strangers. Eventually, he ended up next to Ron, whose left arm was tightly wrapped in both of Hugo’s hands. Harry smiled down at Hugo, and Hugo smiled back but did not let go of Ron’s arm.
“He’s a little nervous around strangers,” explained Ron unnecessarily. Harry nodded wisely, adjusting Lily so she sat more comfortably on his arm.
His eyes on Rose, Albus, and Scorpius across the room, Ron asked, “so Ginny made you come?” and Harry blinked.
“She, er, convinced me that it was a good idea, yeah,” Harry answered, thankful he was able to keep his voice even. “Hermione got you?”
Ron nodded. “She said that our kids are going to be in the same class at Hogwarts, and we’re all adults, and something about moving on from the past, and I reckon she’s right. I didn’t tell her that, of course-” he winked at Harry “-saving that for later. But I was surprised to get the invitation, that’s for sure.”
Harry chuckled. “I think I went into shock. Ginny found me in the living room after I’d been standing there for about ten minutes.”
Ron guffawed loudly, then turned it into a cough when several people turned their heads. “Enjoying yourselves?” Draco’s voice came from behind them and both Ron and Harry whipped their heads around. Draco smirked at them as they exchanged uneasy glances; Harry could tell Ron was thinking the same thing: how much had Draco heard?
“In case you’re wondering,” Draco leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “Astoria made me invite everyone. She said we needed to move on from the past and act like adults, and that our kids were going to be in the same class, and that if I didn’t invite especially you, Harry, then I would sleep on the couch for a month.” He grimaced as he looked from Ron to Harry, and Harry couldn’t keep his mouth from falling open a bit.
“I wonder,” Harry muttered, and Ron and Draco stepped a bit closer, closed off their little triangle to the rest of the room; Harry set Lily down so she could get a cookie. “I wonder if our wives…”
“If they talked to each other? Undoubtedly,” whispered Ron, patting Hugo’s head absently.
“But when?” Harry wondered aloud.
Draco frowned. “Did Ginny and Hermione give the same reasons to you?” he asked, motioning between them with a pointed finger.
Ron and Harry both nodded. “Come to think of it,” said Harry slowly, “Ginny did not seem all that surprised to get the invitation. No offense, Draco,” he added quickly, and Draco shrugged one shoulder. “None taken, Harry.”
Ron tapped his finger on his cheek, thinking hard. “Actually, neither did Hermione. She had already opened it when I got home, but she was too calm. You know she’s a terrible actor,” he said, and Harry nodded in confirmation.
Draco folded his arms across his chest. “I think we’ve been outwitted, gentlemen,” he said, “so you know the Muggle saying. ‘If you can’t beat them, join them,’” and he motioned to the gift table where Ginny, Astoria, and Hermione were standing and talking.
Harry caught Ginny’s eye. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned. He looked back at Ron and Draco. “I guess we have been beat, haven’t we,” he sighed. “But let’s not join them quite yet.”
Ron, who had begun to nudge Hugo in front of him so they could cross the room, paused. “Why not, Harry?”
Harry’s grin widened. “Because,” he lowered his voice, “if our wives all had the same arguments for this party, I imagine they had similar methods of bribery.”
Ron’s face reddened, but stayed where he was. Draco cleared his throat quietly.
“If that is the case,” Harry continued, not looking at Ron, “then I think it would benefit us to stand here and talk together for a bit longer, don’t you?”
Draco smiled, a real, honest smile that Harry had never seen before. “Thinking like a Slytherin, Potter, I like it.”
Harry laughed. “Don’t let Astoria hear you calling me ‘Potter,’ Draco.”