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SIYE Time:13:28 on 29th March 2024
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The Baby Tale
By Kezzabear

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Category: You're Having My Baby Challenge (2010-1), You're Having My Baby Challenge (2010-1)
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Songfic
Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 84
Summary: ** Winner of Best Overall in the You’re Having My Baby Challenge **



A missive from St Mungo's has the whole family in a spin!
Hitcount: Story Total: 31895; Chapter Total: 8813





Author's Notes:
So I just wanted to point out that although I don't own Harry or Ginny or the song involved in this songfic, I do own the plot and the opinion that this is about the worst song ever written.

To this point in the fic I have used the lines of the song to frame the story and used one of the bonus phrases. I have also fulfilled all of the challenge story requirements. Ginny didn't get her results form St Mungo's, harry got them instead and planned a surprise for her and they talked about planning a nursery and announcing the happy news. Ginny has also experienced all those early symptoms ie. I have included exhaustion, vomiting as really those are the two she can share with Harry. It's not in a pregnant woman's nature to share her frequent urination with her husband.

there will be one more chapter to tie up the loose ends and maybe squeeze in a couple of the bonus phrases.




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The world pitched and rolled as Ginny slithered off the couch and made it as far as the pot plant in the corner before throwing up. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and slumped against the wall before summoning a glass of water. Gulping it down she recommenced cursing Harry who had actually given her a packet of crackers before tucking her up on the couch and going out.

Crackers. Who gives crackers to someone who’s been poisoned by the cafeteria at Holyhead?

And then leaves?

His whole attitude had been ridiculous lately. It started last night. She’d felt increasingly woozy and exhausted as the night wore on and left most of the talking to Harry who kept grinning and trying to adjust the cushion behind her head. He kept up a running commentary on some of the photographs Ginny had brought to show her parents as they oohed and ahhed over a series of landscapes and ancient European buildings. Her dad had been particularly fascinated by the photographs Ginny had included of their Muggle hotel rooms and Harry had tried to explain television, the bedside lamps and the hair dryer on the wall in the bathroom.

Ginny hadn’t argued when Harry insisted on taking her home because she was nodding off. The first thing Harry had done when they’d arrived home was to push her towards the stairs.

“I’ll run you a warm bath,” he said.

“Mmmm,” Ginny hummed and turned to smile at her husband. “You’re pretty special, Potter.” Harry just smiled at her and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Well, you’re my wife,” Harry said simply. “The woman I love.”

“George is right,” Ginny said with a smirk. “He said at the wedding ‘If I had a Knut for every time he’s called you his wife, I’d be a rich, rich man!’ I never noticed it before.”

“Your face lights up when I call you that,” Harry replied quietly. “I love that.”

“Maybe marriage just agrees with me,” Ginny said starting up the stairs and throwing a smirk over her shoulder.

“Maybe it does,” Harry smiled. “You definitely look different. I love what it does to you - watch where you’re going!” Ginny just rolled her eyes.

“I can walk up a set of stairs, Harry,” she said with a laugh.

“Maybe I should levitate you,” Harry muttered.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” Ginny said as she continued up the stairs. “I feel a bit off colour but I don’t need levitating!”

“But you’re having maaaaa ah um a rough spot,” Harry said. He sprinted up the few steps between them and attempted to scoop Ginny up in his arms. She laughed and hit his arm.

“I might be in love with you, Potter,” she said, wriggling out of his grasp, “but you have to know I won’t let you do that. I’m fine. I just need a good night’s sleep.”

Ginny threw him a grin and winked before slipping into the bathroom. Despite all her intentions to the contrary Ginny had curled up in bed and fallen asleep within minutes of crawling under the covers and then woken up several hours later vomiting all over the carpet. She felt like a truck had run over her and had been utterly mortified when Harry had to clean her up and scrub the floor. He just told her he loved her for it and tucked her on the couch with crackers before telling her he had a few things to take care of and he’d be back soon. One minute he was the doting husband to the point of being so overbearing she wanted to punch him and the next he was abandoning her.

Ginny eyed the room and decided it had stopped spinning long enough for her to get off the floor and go back to the couch. Harry had been gone for about two hours now and she hoped he’d be back soon because this stupid food poisoning was going through her like Ron went through food.

Thinking of food was a very bad idea.

Ginny crawled over to the Floo and tossed a pinch of powder in to call Hermione, hoping to speak before she threw up again. Her head spun dangerously in the grate and Ginny swallowed heavily to prevent losing the contents of her stomach on Ron’s shoes.

“You look like you’re hungover,” Ron said, dropping to his knees.

“I wasn’t drinking,” Ginny moaned. “I think the burritos at Holyhead were off.”

“Well at least you’re not pregnant,” Ron said with a smirk. Ginny fought the urge to flip him the bird.

“If I was at least all this would have meaning,” she groaned. “Listen do you guys have anything to settle a stomach?”

“Fine, I’ll send Hermione over,” Ron rolled his eyes. “No doubt she can brew up something. Where’s Harry anyway?”

“Git went out,” grumbled Ginny.

“Idiot,” muttered Ron.

“Well, he probably thought I’d just be sleeping …”

“Yeah, yeah, he better have a good reason is all I’m saying!” Ron waved Ginny back through the Floo and hollered for Hermione.

It was much later, after Hermione had given her a foul smelling concoction and Ginny had fallen asleep, that Harry came home. Ginny woke to hear Hermione whispering with Harry in the hallway. She felt a lot better and stretched languidly on the couch.

“Harry?” she called, not wanting to get up. Her husband appeared, lightning fast, in the doorway. His hair was ruffled and his eyes were bright with excitement.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked. “You look a bit brighter.” His eyes travelled the length of her and Ginny wondered how awful she looked. Her hair was probably a chaotic mess around her head with clumps of it sticking to her cheek and her shirt was rumpled — she could see it hitched up over her waist, a vast expanse of freckled skin on display. When she looked up at Harry he was staring at her and her exposed, freckled stomach. It was the same look he had in his eyes just before he would kiss her senseless and make love to her slowly and gently.

Ginny suddenly really wanted Hermione to leave and she shifted restlessly and smiled seductively as Harry’s gaze travelled up to her face.

“Oh yeah,” he said softly, his eyes betraying how much he wanted her, “me too.”

Hermione could definitely not leave fast enough.

****************

His plan was all set. The afternoon would be perfect and Neville could keep a secret — unlike other gits he knew. As long as they were at The Burrow before George for Sunday tea tomorrow, all should still be well. Harry counted himself lucky that he’d managed to buy George’s silence for that long. But it wouldn’t do at all if Molly found out Ginny was pregnant before Ginny did. Harry smiled and patted his pocket with the precious scroll in it as he pulled his clothes on.

Ginny was certainly feeling better and once they’d gotten rid of Hermione she certainly showed him how much better. Harry didn’t know how he managed to avoid blurting out the wonderful news during his unguarded moments. He didn’t know if Ginny had noticed his increased attention to her stomach as they made love earlier. He couldn’t help dwelling on that spot, caressing and kissing her there reverently, willing it to grow. He couldn’t wait to see her tummy swollen with their child and feel the baby kick against his hand. It still amazed him that she carried inside her something so precious. He hoped Ginny would be as elated as he was to know that she was carrying his baby.

Their baby.

“We have to be at Mum and Dad’s tomorrow,” Ginny called from the bathroom as she shut the water off. Harry hummed an answer at her and checked that he had everything he needed for the evening. Grabbing a blanket from the hall cupboard he headed downstairs and into the kitchen to finish gathering the picnic items. Ginny bounced down the stairs moments after he’d finished and Harry grabbed his broomstick from the corner.

“Ready?” he asked, trying to prevent a grin stretching across his face.

“Where are we going, Harry?” Ginny asked. “You’re like a little boy with a pocket full of sweets.”

“It’s a surprise! Come on!” Harry motioned Ginny out of the door and hung the picnic basket from the tail of the broom. He double checked the cushioning charm on the broomstick and threw the blanket over it for good measure before swinging one leg over and catching Ginny around her waist. One hand splayed across her stomach he pulled her into his lap so she was riding sideways across the broom.

“Harry!” Ginny laughed, trying to wriggle around so she was astride the broom. Harry stilled her with a shake of his head and gentle pressure to her hip.

“No, stay like that,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck. Ginny wound her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder as Harry began a wobbly ascent across the backyard. He soon had their flight smooth has he hovered close to the trees, skimming the countryside to their destination. He was again grateful for the choice they had made to live in the wizarding area of Godric’s Hollow. There was so many Confundus Charms and Muggle repelling charms he and Ginny could fly for about five miles before they needed to worry. They had found the little stream the second time they visited the township, looking for a property near Harry’s babyhood home. It ran through a secluded copse on the very edge of the township and was bordered by gorse bushes and several large evergreens. The chances of being disturbed were very, very slim. The underbrush was so thick you’d have to fly in unless you were sailing the stream and it was hardly big enough for that. It was the perfect place to celebrate their wonderful news.

Harry swung between the evergreens and skimmed the gorse before swooping into the clearing. The stream bubbled nearby and the flowers from Neville’s greenhouses made it look extra special in the shaded corners where fairy lights illuminated the secluded area. The sun was almost ready to set and Harry cast a warming charm as he brought the broomstick down.

“Oh, Harry,” Ginny sighed as they touched to the ground gently. “It’s beautiful.”

“So are you,” Harry said. Ginny rolled her eyes at him as she hopped off his lap and skipped over to the stream. She shed her shoes and socks and dipped one toe into the frigid water, laughing as she shivered.

“You’re very soppy today,” she said as she splashed a little more, startling the fish darting in and out of the rocks. Harry smiled and came up behind her, sliding both arms around her waist.

“I’m just so in love with you, Ginny,” he said sincerely. “And you’re just … you’re looking so wonderful right now.”

“I think I look a little pale actually,” Ginny frowned, peering into the stream as if the bubbling, rippling water would provide a reflection. “But that’s probably because I’ve been feeling a little off. I’ll feel better soon enough.” Harry nodded and tugged on her hand.

“I brought us a picnic,” he said shyly as he urged Ginny to sit on the blanket he’d spread on the ground while she had been splashing in the water.

“Oh fantastic!” Ginny said, sinking to the ground and peering into the basket. “I’m famished.” They pulled the food from the basket. The leftover treacle tart Molly had sent home with them last night, sandwiches from the pub in Godric’s Hollow, laden with beef and dripping with mustard, two bottles of butterbeer and a tub of Fortescue’s wrapped in layers of freezing charms. They fell on the food, devouring it, feeding it to one another and stealing kisses as they ate. Ginny startled Harry when she suddenly looked up at him and asked if he wanted to name their first son James.

“I — what?” Harry croaked out.

“Don’t panic, Harry,” Ginny laughed. “I just wondered.”

“Well, I’d like that,” Harry said, spearing another bite of treacle tart and looking up at her through his eyelashes. “Do you think we’ll have a son first?”

“Well, probably,” Ginny twirled her fork and stared unseeing into the darkness that had begun to shroud them. “I’m a Weasley, although after Victoire …”

“I don’t mind,” Harry said, putting his treacle tart down and scooting over to his wife. “Boy or girl, I just can’t wait to see you growing with our child — a little bellybean inside there.” He caressed her stomach gently.

“Mum will be so excited,” Ginny said. “She’s going to have to wait but she’s going to be excited.” She laughed merrily and Harry opened his mouth to make his announcement but Ginny kept talking. “I mean I think we should wait to announce it to everyone, you know? I remember when Maude Wilson lost her baby everyone said it was because she announced it too soon. I’m not sure if I believe in all the old wives tales though. Mum always said she never made a nursery before we were born. It’s bad luck.”

“Where did you sleep then?” Harry asked, still caressing Ginny’s stomach, his hand sneaking under her jumper to the warm flesh below as he laid his head in her lap.

“Oh we were in with Mum and Dad for a few weeks in the cradle,” Ginny said, running a hand through Harry’s hair. “I’d like to do that. I don’t think I could bear to part with them straightaway. Plus, then you don’t have to worry about a colour for the nursery. Because you can paint it after they arrive.” She smiled down at Harry, her eyes sparkling and as she described the sky blue room she envisioned for their son with clouds painted on the ceiling and a teddy bear motif, or a Quidditch theme or maybe a jungle motif, Harry wondered if Ginny already knew she was expecting his baby. Their baby. Women had that sort of voodoo sixth sense didn’t they?

“Do you have to … quit,” Harry asked when Ginny’s monologue on soft lighting and linens tapered off.

“I don’t want to have any until I’m ready to stop playing,” Ginny said. “I don’t think that’ll be for at least a year, maybe two. There’s still so much for me to do in the game.” Harry listened with a sinking heart as Ginny explained her ideals. So much for voodoo sixth sense and women’s intuition or whatever Arthur called it. Harry stroked Ginny’s tummy gently as she gestured wildly.

“I mean Gertrude makes it work,” she was saying. “I don’t think I want to, you know? I can’t imagine trying to care for a baby and get back into shape ready to play.”

“But what if it were … unexpected?” Harry asked, holding his breath. Ginny’s hand stilled. Harry watched as she stared off into the distance.

“I would never, ever regret having your baby,” Ginny said. She looked down and smiled softly, cupping his cheek.

“Our baby,” whispered Harry as she bent her head to kiss him softly on the lips.

A resounding crash echoed through the little clearing as Harry slid his hand around the back of Ginny’s neck to hold her closer. They both jumped and Harry had his wand out within seconds, pushing Ginny behind him as he brandished his wand in the direction of the crash. A series of colourful swear words rang out and a dishevelled red head, covered in twigs and bits of grass tumbled out into the clearing, yelping.

“Ow, sweet Merlin and for the love of all that is — sweet cauldron bottoms, OUCH!”

“George?” Harry asked, stepping forward to nudge the man with his foot. A freckled face suddenly turned to look at him and beamed.

“Harry!” George said. “Good to see you!”

“Well,” Harry said, folding his arms across his chest. “I am not at all happy to see you.”

George just smiled serenely and Harry wondered if he should just hex him now or wait for him to explain himself.

“George!” Ginny said, pushing past Harry and standing in front of her brother, hands on her hips. “Did you know we were going to be here?” George nodded brightly.

“And yet you came anyway …” Harry muttered with a scowl.

“Well it’s not like I knew you’d be here exactly,” George said flopping down onto the blanket and peering into the picnic basket. “It took some doing to find you but I know some handy dandy tracking spells!” He tapped side the side of his head as he rummaged in the basket and pulled out the last sandwich.

“If you knew we’d be here, why did you come?” Ginny asked.

“Well,” George said around a mouthful of sandwich, “I was going to help, but since I fell out of the tree and now you know I’m here I figured I may as well see if you had any food because I’m starving.”

“And just how were you planning to help me?” Harry asked through gritted teeth.

“I brought music!” George said cheerfully.

“Where?” Ginny looked at him sceptically. George fumbled in his pockets for a moment before pulling out a small device about the size of his palm. It looked like the kind of thing Dudley would get three of for his birthday and another for Christmas.

“Here!” George said waving the thing around.

“There’s music on that?” Ginny asked, eyebrow raised. George nodded and fiddled with it for a moment. Nothing happened. George turned the device over and frowned.

“It was working before,” he complained. “Seamus gave it to me. He said his dad, who’s an it-man, got it for him at some fair thingy. It’s supposed to play music.”

“An it-man?” Harry asked as George fiddled with the buttons some more.

“Yeah, you know — eye then tee — it!”

“Oh, an IT man,” Harry said rolling his eyes and plucking the device from George’s hand. “Information Technology — computers and things. Dudley was telling me all about it at the wedding. He was all excited about some fruit thingy that was coming out.” Harry examined the item in his hands. “There’s no speaker on this, George.”

“Oh!” George’s face lit up. “I forgot to put the noisemaker thing on it!” He fished something else out of his pocket. It looked like a ball of string with boxes on the end. Ginny sighed heavily and began packing up the picnic as George and Harry bent over the device.

Suddenly a cacophony of noise swept through the small copse and Harry winced and leaned away from the device still in his hands.

“Hey, we got it hooked up!” George shouted. Harry just nodded and grimaced, trying to find the volume switch.

“What is this song?” Ginny said when Harry had lowered the volume to a bearable level. George shrugged.

“Seamus told me we needed to put music on it,” he said. “So we went and raided Dad’s shed for Muggle music.” The three of them sat there for a while listening to the tinny sounds of the music pouring form the small speakers sitting on the blanket.

“It sounds like the stuff Aunt Petunia used to listen to,” Harry murmured. “She called it seventies classic or something.”

“Yeah, that’s it!” George said excitedly, pressing some more of the buttons. “The record we picked had a big number one on it and it said nineteen-seventies in the corner. This stuff is as old as I am!” He looked pleased with himself as the music changed. A song began to croon out of the speakers in mid-verse.

“This is a bit dreary,” George said, reaching for the device.

“No, wait!” Ginny put out a hand to stop him. Her face was contorted as she tilted her head and listened to the song. Harry listened with growing horror as he realised what the crooner was singing. He reached to switch it off but Ginny snatched the tiny device from his fingers.

“Really, we don’t need to listen to this,” Harry said. “It’s probably one of the worst songs ever written.”

“Don’t you think it’s funny though?” Ginny asked. “We were just talking about this!” Ginny peered at the device and moved one of the sliders on the edge and giggled. The tinny sound of the speakers blared as she turned the volume up.

Having my baby screeched out of the speakers and Harry yanked the cords out of the sockets.

“You were talking about that, were you?” George said, he leered at Harry suggestively.

“Yeah,” Ginny frowned at Harry before she turned and thrust the speakers back to George. “We were just talking about what it would be like.” Harry made a slashing motion across his throat as George grinned and raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“Yes, one day, in the future,” Harry said, glaring at George hoping he got the message to keep his mouth shut. “You know the kind of conversation married people have with each other about their future.”

“Yeah, well me and Angie never had that one,” George said with a chuckle.

“Did Angelina use Muggle tests?” Ginny asked suddenly. Harry thought it was an odd question but then, women often asked odd questions. He was just trying to figure out how to get rid of George.

“For Freddie?” asked George, pocketing the music device and the speakers. Ginny nodded. George thought for a moment. “She might have done both. She had this strip of parchment and some little stick things with lines on them. I didn’t ask what they were — she told me it meant she was pregnant and then the world sort of crashed down on my head.” George shrugged apologetically.

“Yeah the sticks were the Muggle ones,” Ginny said.

“How do you know that?” Harry asked. He stared at Ginny and she shrugged.

“I did some yesterday at Hermione’s,” she replied, standing up and tugging on the edge of the blanket. Harry scooted off the edge numbly. Her mouth was still moving and Harry struggled to make sense of her words. “-but I mean Gwenog reckoned she wasn’t clearing me until the rest of my tests came back which is really annoying because now I’ll have to go back to St Mungo’s and find the idiot and get the entire results and that’s another wasted day of training. Harry are you listening to me?” Harry just stared at her, trying to figure out which part he’d missed.

“Well, I can see you two have a lot to talk about,” George said. “I’ll just leave you to it, see you at Mum’s tomorrow!” He Apparated away and Harry stared at the spot where he’d been wondering if he should just Apparate them home because he was feeling a bit out of sorts and not sure he could fly straight.

“Harry!” Ginny was waving a hand in front of his face. Harry focused on her with great difficulty. She smiled when his eyes finally locked with hers. “You can stop panicking, silly. They were negative — I guess it just got me thinking, you know? I suddenly want to plan nurseries and stuff.” She shrugged.

“Negative?”

“Yeah … you sound disappointed,” Ginny put a hand on his arm. “I was too. I’d love to have your baby, Harry but … I’m kind of relieved as well because I don’t want to do it unplanned.”

“But if it was unplanned?” Harry asked, thinking of the parchment in his pocket and wondering if Muggle tests worked on witches.

“I would be happy about it,” Ginny replied, winding her arms around his neck.

“But if it wrecked all your plans-”

“It wouldn’t,” Ginny said, reaching up to kiss him soundly. “It’s not something you can just sweep out of your life anyway. But I’d be happy about it. It’d be your baby. I would be happy to get all fat for you.”

“Us,” murmured Harry. “It’d be our baby and I will love to see you all glowing and … round.”

“Soppy, Potter, very soppy,” Ginny laughed as she retrieved the broom.

“It was the song,” Harry defended. “I’m repeating that horrible song!”

All the way home Harry wondered at the disparity on the parchment from St Mungo’s and the tests Ginny had taken. Clearly, he needed to speak to Hermione. Because he needed someone to figure this out and he couldn’t think when Ginny did that to his neck!
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