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SIYE Time:9:06 on 29th March 2024
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His Name is James
By redandraven

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Category: Post-Hogwarts, You're Having My Baby Challenge (2010-1), You're Having My Baby Challenge (2010-1)
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Ron Weasley
Genres: Comedy, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance, Songfic
Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 22
Summary: ** Winner of Best Romance in the You’re Having My Baby Challenge **


Harry and Ginny find out that a new arrival is on its way.
Hitcount: Story Total: 9455



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
My first challenge fic! I thought the prompt was a bit . . sappy, but somehow I ended up taking my own spin on it anyway. The pregnancy symptoms are autobiographical, in case anyone is wondering. Let me know what you think!




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“Harry?”

His wife’s voice came to him as though cutting through a fog. Harry tried to decide if he wanted to answer her, or just ignore her and return to sleeping. After a week traveling for work, he had hoped to make it back in time for dinner last night. The International Portkey Office apparently had other ideas. By the time he crawled in the door, his wife was sound asleep and the leftovers from “their” dinner were safely in the fridge. Five hours was not enough time to recover all the sleep he had missed, however, and he decided to opt for a grunt and hope she stopped trying to wake him.

“Harry? I . . . need some help here, hun.”

Dang, the noise kept coming. Perhaps another grunt would solve the problem . . .

“I’m sorry, luv, but I have to go to work soon. I promise you can go back to sleep when I leave.”

Harry squinted his eyes open at the clock. Sure enough, Ginny would have to report for practice within the hour. He had missed her so much over the last week that he finally found motivation, and sniffed while he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “What do you need?” he asked, his voice still hoarse.

“Um, well, you would consider yourself . . . an expert on my breasts . . . right?”

And now she had his full attention.

Sitting up and shaking his head free of the cobwebs, he managed a smile. “Why, yes, I think you could say that. Do you need them inspected, luv?” He hoped that his voice sounded enticing, but with the drowsiness it was hard to say. Looking around, he noticed that she wasn’t in the room, so he headed toward the loo to find her, ruffling his hair and grinning wider with each step.

“Well, actually, I do,” she replied. But she didn’t sound like she was flirting at all. She sounded . . . worried? Confused?

When Harry rounded into the doorway, he saw that she was naked, and inspecting herself in the mirror cautiously. Momentarily distracted, he gazed at the beautiful form in front of him. He had once been worried that a few years of marriage would cool them down, but she was still as attractive to him as ever.

“Harry? Stop grinning like an idiot, you!” She snapped her fingers in front of his wandering eyes, but Harry noticed she was trying to hide back a small smile of her own. “Be serious for me, just for a minute? I think I might be going crazy here.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to manage a serious face. “Yes, of course. What seems to be the problem then, Mrs. Potter?”

“Well, I dunno, maybe its just me, but my bra wouldn’t fit quite right this morning, so . . . I mean, when you look at my chest, does it look like they–“

“Got bigger,” Harry finished, a puzzled awe taking him over. “Would you look at that. How did you do that?”

“I don’t know!” Ginny said, flinging her hands in the air. “I mean, everything fit fine last week. But you really think so too? It’s not just me?”

“Hmmm,” Harry said, feigning seriousness. “Better do a full inspection here,” he muttered, bringing his hands up to caress his wife. “Yup, definitely bigger. Oh yeah.”

“Harry,” she said teasingly. “This is seriously weird. Don’t you think we should try and figure this out?”

“Actually, I think this is seriously brilliant. Come on, I bet I could inspect everything better if you were in bed with me.” Taking his chances, he took her hand and tried to pull her into the bedroom, but she wouldn’t budge. Sighing, he looked up to the ceiling for a moment, trying to think of what to say.

“Okay, I’ve got a plan here. First of all, I think you should take a look at the healer books when you go into practice this morning. I think I saw some in the trainer’s room. Either that, or owl Hermione, because she always knows everything.”

Ginny took a deep breath, and seemed quite pacified with actual steps to take. “Good. Yeah, I can do those. Is there another step to the plan?”

“Oh, yes, step two is very important. Step two is to let your husband ravage you, in order to convince you not to complain about such fantastic good luck.”

A large grin spread over her face, and Harry cheered internally. Finally, she was coming around to his side of things. “Is that so?”

Harry would have responded, but he had already pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and burying his scruffy cheek into her neck. Thank Merlin she had woken him up early.


Harry decided this was a very good day. After the wonderful surprise this morning, he had indeed gone back to bed and slept off his jet lag. He flew around the pitch in his backyard a bit before heading out on errands, leaving a note for Ginny that he would pick up dinner while he was out. In fact, he was whistling as he strode into the kitchen, but stopped short at the sight of his wife.

She was sitting at the table, her head leaning heavily on her arm while her other hand lazily stirred the drink in front of her. Instead of her usual, boisterous greeting, she merely glanced up at him and smiled meekly. Harry sat in the chair next to her and quickly put an arm around her shoulder.

“What’s wrong hun? Is that . . . hot chocolate?”

“Yup,” she nodded.

Harry waited for a second and looked between her and the cup, hoping she would continue. “Um, why are you drinking hot chocolate?”

“My stomach felt funny,” she said simply.

This seemed like highly irrelevant information to him. “Luv, it’s April.”

“A stomachache is always better with a good cup of hot chocolate.” And at that, she closed her eyes and leaned into his shoulder, settling in comfortably.

Harry had to blink a few times to let this sink in. She was acting oddly, but at least she didn’t seem mad at him. That was a good sign.

“How did practice go today?”

Ginny sighed. “Well, I’ve been really tired all week. I don’t know why, really- with you out of town, I went to bed earlier than usual. But today I actually fell asleep during my lunch break.”

“What, face first into your sandwich?”

“No, silly,” she said, playfully pushing her shoulder into him. “The couch in the waiting room sounded much better than my lunch at that moment, and I didn’t think I would be long. But Gwenog wasn’t too happy when she had to come find me for afternoon meeting.”

“Hmmm. Have you been sleeping alright at night?”

“Thought so,” she shrugged. “Anyway, Gwenog said that if I’m not up to speed tomorrow she’s sending me to St Mungo’s to get checked out.” Her tone was that of a little child being threatened with a time out. “I can’t afford any setbacks now if I’m going to make the National team next year.”

“Did she have any ideas?”

“No. It can’t be anything serious, I must have just caught a bug. Hopefully I will be over it by tomorrow. Last thing I want to do is spend the day in St. Mungo’s over some stupid cold or something.” She sighed again, and started playing with a button on Harry’s shirt absentmindedly. “At least tomorrow is Friday, so if I can make it through the day I can have a weekend to veg it all off.”

Harry stroked her hair a moment, considering that. “Did you talk to Hermione about your . . . discovery this morning?”

“No,” Ginny yawned. “I didn’t want to bother her. Maybe if I get punished into sick leave tomorrow, I can ask the Healers.”


The next day was back to normal for the both of them. Ginny merely growled at him in the morning when he asked how she was feeling, and Harry had the impression that she was going to let the threat of St. Mungo’s push her to her body’s limit at practice. He had a busy day at the office, but his thoughts kept returning to his wife with a concerned chuckle. Hopefully she didn’t push herself too hard.

He intended to get home early and see how things had gone, but he had more catch up work to finish than he had thought. So he was surprised when he finally came home to find the house empty. After a few minutes wondering where he should start to look for his wife, Ginny herself came in the door and flounced on the couch with a frustrated eye roll.

“I take it today wasn’t any better, then?”

“No,” she huffed. “I wore myself out trying to look like I was fine, and Gwenog saw right through the act. So I’ve spent the last few hours being poked and prodded. I don’t even know what half of the tests were that they ran.”

Harry laughed as he pulled her in for a hug. Of all the things they had in common, the refusal to accept help or admit weakness had often reached a point of competition in their relationship. Each of them wanted to take care of the other, while refusing to accept help themselves. He still remembered the day after the Final Battle, when he was literally dragged to the Hospital Matron by his fiery red-head. He kept trying to tell her that he was fine, and there were a lot of other people who needed the Healer’s time, but she acted as though she couldn’t hear him.

“So what have they decided is horribly wrong about you, then?”

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “They said they had to run the test results and get back to me. They told me I could stay and find out, but I told them to just send an owl here. I was starting to feel claustrophobic in there.”

Harry nodded and buried himself further into their embrace. “I thought about you a lot today. Hopefully it’s nothing big.”

“Yeah, minus my breasts. They thought that query was rather funny, to be honest.”

“Dang, we have to figure out how you did that so we can keep it going,” Harry smirked. “You really had to see a Healer after growing a couple of cup sizes? Imagine that.”

“Shut it, you,” she smirked, elbowing him playfully. “I’m sure that had nothing to do with the blood tests and three thousand questions they asked regarding every moment of my life for the last week.” After shuddering, she shook her head and closed her eyes.

“Ugh, I’m tired of even talking about that horrid place. How was work today? I hope you haven’t been waiting for me forever here.”

“Work was fine- minus the stacks of paperwork these trips always land me. But I actually only beat you home by a few minutes.”

“Oh, that’s good.” A peaceful silence fell, and Harry was starting to kiss his wife’s forehead when a noise startled them both.

“Ginny?”

They both turned towards the fire as Angelina’s head appeared. “Oh, hey there you are! Are you still coming over?”

Harry looked quizzically at his wife as she swore under her breath. “I’m so sorry, Angelina! I totally forgot. I’ll be right there.”

When the head nodded and disappeared, Ginny explained quickly while she stood up. “I told her I would babysit tonight- well, actually, the baby should be in bed soon, but George had something they needed to go to until late tonight, and they were in a jam.”

“She does love her Auntie Ginny,” Harry said, grinning as he remembered how George’s daughter had started trailing Ginny’s every move when they were at the Burrow. “Do you want me to come too?”

“Oh, no, it’s really not a big deal. Maybe you should see what Ron and Hermione are up to tonight. They were asking about you last week, and I’m sure they want to see you if you have time. I won’t be home until late.”

He screwed us his face for a moment, and finally relented. “Okay, but if they aren’t home, then I’m coming with you. I’ve missed you this last week.”

She smiled at this and kissed his cheek, and was gone with a whoosh of the flames. “Hmm, dinner . . .” he muttered, figuring that no matter what his friends were up to, they must have eaten by now.

His sandwich was quickly interrupted by an unfamiliar owl, however. When he noticed the address on the envelope, he paused for a moment. It was labeled for Ginny, and it must be her test results from the hospital, judging from the haughty owl and the seal on the envelope. As the bird flew away, he debated on waiting for her to get back, or even popping over there to open it with her- but the curiosity was just too much for him. He tried to justify it by imagining that he could better help her deal with bad news if he heard it first.

Dear Mrs. Potter,

Thank you for your patience with us this afternoon.

Harry quickly tried to hold in a snort of laughter.

When all of the tests for common illnesses came up negative, a nurse finally suggested a test that came up positive. Therefore, we would like to be the first to congratulate you on your pregnancy. Judging by the results we have here, it looks like you should be expecting an addition to your family on December 7th of this year. We encourage you to schedule a meeting with our Pregnancy Healer at your earliest convenience. Also, due to your special status, we would like to remind you that Healer/Patient information is strictly confidential, and assure you that St. Mungo’s prides itself on the privacy of our patients.

Good luck with your pregnancy, and congratulations to you and your husband.

Sincerely, Healer Jones

It was all Harry could do to maintain a proper grip on the paper as he read it a second time through and sank into his chair with a thud. Pregnant? He didn’t know much about such things, but he gathered that all of the symptoms fit well enough. Tired, sick, body changes . . . blimey. A baby? Their baby?

They had talked about having children someday, sure. It was rather like discussing growing old together. It sounds well enough until the first wrinkle arrives and reality sets in. Having children was something they both held as a lofty idea, one that was both inevitable and incomprehensible. But . . . now? Were they ready to be parents now?

Harry was hardly aware of his own movements as he took his sandwich and tea to his favorite chair by the fire. This kind of thinking couldn’t be done in a hard-backed kitchen chair, after all.

But somehow, even his beloved chair couldn’t settle his thoughts like it usually did. The bits of worries and epiphanies overwhelmed him. A baby . . . Ginny’s chances for making the National team were gone . . . changing nappies . . . sending a child to Hogwarts . . . taking care of her while she was pregnant . . .turning one of the spare rooms into a nursery . . .

When he tried to gather his thoughts together, he realized that none of these bits were actually negative emotions. It was all just . . .shocking. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a small wood frame on the bookshelf next to him, and picked it up. It was a picture that they had found recently, and one of his most prized possessions: a small picture of James and Lily holding their infant son.

He had stared at this picture before, but had always seen it as a view of his past, rather than his future. But now, two new things stood out to him as though he had never seen the image before. The first thing that amazed him was how young his parents looked, all of the sudden. He remembered how odd it had been on his twenty-second birthday to realize that he had just lived longer than his own parents had, but it struck him just then that the young couple had already become parents at age 20. And in the midst of a war, no less. If he felt unsure of himself, he could only imagine how his parents had felt when they received the same news he had just gotten.

But the most striking thing was the look on their faces. Sure, he had known they were smiling, but now that he was really looking at them closely he saw that it was a bit more than that. They were practically glowing with joy. Each of them took turns looking at the baby, poking at him playfully, before gazing at each other in sheer wonder and returning to smile at the camera. They didn’t look worn down by the nappy changes and sleepless nights. They looked like they were in love with the little bundle in their arms.

Leaning back in his chair, Harry took a moment to consider this. He remembered when they went to see George and Angelina’s little girl when she was born. She was impossibly small, and rather resembled a raisin. But her parents had that same adoring look when they saw her. And no matter how much trouble the lot of them had been, it had never seemed like the Weasleys regretted having their children. For that matter, even the Dursleys and the Malfoys certainly loved their sons, in their own twisted way. There was another thought that nagged on the edge of his mind- another place he had seen that look. But he couldn’t quite place it, and decided that he needed some fresh air and a fresh perspective.


“Hey there, luv. The usual?” Harry was startled out of his trance when Claira ambled over. Come to think of it, Harry wasn’t entirely sure he meant to head to the Muggle coffee shop tonight. His body must have acted on autopilot, he figured. He and Ginny tended to wander over here a lot, since it was one of few places in the sleepy town still open in the evenings. After too many late night wanderings, Claira was starting to be a second mother to them both.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“Where’s the misses tonight?”

“Helping her brother out, actually,” Harry said, trying to focus on the conversation. But when he looked up at Claira, he could tell that she wasn’t fooled.

“Alright, you. You’re going to shred that poor piece of paper in two soon if you don’t spill.” She plopped herself down the chair opposite him with a smirk, and Harry looked down at his hands in shock. He’d brought the post with him?

“She’s pregnant,” he said, awed at the way it sounded out loud.

“Oh, congratulations darlin’!” she cooed. “Oh, that’s the best news I’ve had in weeks. You two are going to make lovely parents, you know that? How’s she feeling?”

“Well, not to bad so far, I suppose,” he said, blinking. “Minus the fact that . . . well, she doesn’t actually know yet.”

“So, what then — you’ve just got a suspicion?”

“Erm, no actually- she saw a . . . doctor for something else and . . . she wasn’t there when the test results came, just I was, and . . .”

Claira leaned her head back and laughed heartily, her curly hair bouncing behind her as she clutched her notepad to her chest. “Well, isn’t that funny,” she said when she gathered herself. “Most girls agonize for a week figurin’ how they are going to tell their bloke, and now you got the honors instead. Decided how you’re going to break it yet, luv?”

“How?” he asked, confused.

“Course! What, were you just going to hand her that worn piece of paper the minute she walks in the door?”

Harry’s grimace told her all she needed to know.

“Okay, let’s start this over, dearie. How are you feeling about this whole thing?”

Harry thought for a minute. “Uh, shocked. Overwhelmed. Excited is in there somewhere, but . . . we really weren’t thinking about this, so it’s a lot to wrap my mind around, yeah?”

“How do you think she is going to feel?”

This thought hadn’t even occurred to Harry yet, as he hadn’t quite figured out his own feelings. “The . . . same? Maybe? We talked about having kids someday. I don’t know how she’ll feel about it now though.”

“Alright then. Let me just give you this piece of advice. She’s going to be right worried about what you think, especially if you haven’t talked about it much. Us girls are a rather insecure bunch, no matter what we want you lot to think. She’s going to worry about you going funny on her when she gets fat, or getting scared of a baby, and a whole pile of other things. If you can show her you’re there for the long run, it’ll go a long way.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Harry said, smiling.

“Good,” Claira said, grinning as she stood up. “I’ve got to catch my other tables, but you tell that sweet girl of yours I said congratulations, you hear?”

Harry nodded absentmindedly, but then thought better of it when she started to walk away. “Claira? What’s it like?”

“Having a baby?” She smiled and looked out of the window, seeing past the darkened lane and dim shops. “Don’t let everyone scare you off with how much work they’ll be, luv, because you won’t even notice most days. The Lord takes your love and uses it to create a wee miracle. There’s nothing better in the world than watching their every tiny move and marveling at them all day. You’re takin’ two people who found each other and making a true family out of it, and nothing could ever be better.” And with that, she smiled at Harry for another moment and sauntered off to her next table.

Family. It suddenly hit him where he had seen that look from the picture before: the Mirror of Erised. That was how all of his family looked at him. That was what he had longed for above all else his entire life. He was going to have a real family. Not a borrowed one, no matter how much he loved the Weasleys. Not a substitute one, no matter how much Sirus had wanted to fill in all the gaps his best mate had left behind. A true family. His.

A song broke through into his awe, and he looked up to see that Claira had turned on the jukebox in the corner and winked at him. He’d never heard the song before, but she was singing along, out of tune, as she continued wandering around the café.

Having my baby
What a lovely way of saying how much you love me
Having my baby
What a lovely way of saying what you're thinkin' of me
I can see it, your face is glowing
I can see it in your eyes
I'm happy in knowin'
That you're having my baby

You're the woman I love
And I love what it's doin' to you
Having my baby
You're a woman in love
And I love what's goin' thru you
The need inside you
I see it showin'
Oh, the seed inside you baby
Do you feel it growin'
Are you happy knowin'
That you're having my baby

As he stared into his cup and fiddled with the spoon, all of the pieces fit into place slowly. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. And he didn’t have the first clue how to take care of a baby, despite all of the time they had spent with Teddy over the years. But he loved Ginny, with all of his heart. And if this little baby was a part of them both, he would love it as well. Love had driven him to do a lot of things in his life, and none of them were very easy either. But they were all worth it.


Ginny sighed and threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t even know where else to check!” Pacing the carpet hadn’t been doing much good, so she plopped down on the couch and looked at her brother for answers.

“Yeah, like I know,” Ron muttered. “You’re sure he said he was coming to my place?”

“That’s what he said. He was either going to head over to your place, or come to George’s. But he didn’t go to the office either; I checked.” She grumbled for a moment, and picked at the lint on the couch. “I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m not even sure what I think has gone wrong, but . . . it’s just odd for him, you know?”

“I’ve known him for a lot of years,” Ron said. “And your husband is certainly odd.”

Ginny chucked a pillow at him and huffed. “I’m just so glad you were home instead of your wife,” she said sarcastically.

“Hey, I’d rather she was here too. Then I could be at home, and not stuck pretending I was worried about my best mate. Come on, I’m sure he just stepped out for a minute, he’s fine, and —“

But Ron was cut off by the front door opening.

“See?” he finished, and Ginny stuck her tongue out at him as she ran to the door.

“Harry? Where did you go?” she ran up to hug him, but stopped short when she saw that his arms were already occupied.

“I’m sorry, luv, I didn’t think you would be back yet, I–“

But when Ron came around the corner, he just laughed. “You bought her flowers? Uh oh, mate, what did you do?”

The phrase knocked up your sister came to mind, but Harry settled for “shut it, you” instead.

“Harry?” Ginny said tauntingly.

“Nothing!” Harry replied, flustered enough to answer Ron’s question instead of looking at his wife.

“Right, yeah, nothing.” Ron said. “If I had a Knut for every time he’s said that.”

“Ron, would you mind maybe . . . not being here?” Harry said, glaring at him.

The red-head grinned happily. “Oh, no worries there. I am more than happy to leave before you get punished for whatever it is. Try not to kill the bloke, eh sister?”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, smiling and leaning against the wall as she quirked her eyebrow at her husband. Harry didn’t dare move until they heard the flames take Ron away.

“Right then. Spill,” she said.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. Well, at least not this time. I was trying to . . . surprise you.”

“Surprise?” she asked.

He nodded vigorously, and she continued to stare at him, trying to figure out the puzzle.

“Do you think we could, erm, go sit down?”

Instead of answering, she held out her hand expectantly. Harry blinked in confusion before she smirked and gestured to the flowers he was sill clutching. “Oh, right, sorry,” he said, handing her the bouquet.

“They’re beautiful, luv,” she said, holding out her other hand to lead him into the parlor. Harry quickly grabbed a bag from off the floor before following her.

“So there’s more then?” she grinned. “This has got to really be something.”

Harry gave her a sheepish look, but didn’t say anything else until they sat down. When he saw that she was eyeing the bag, he put it behind the arm of the couch and smiled at the game. But a second later, he jumped up.

“Sorry, forgot- hey! No peeking, you,” said, dashing into the kitchen and returning with a pair of champagne glasses.

“Oh, this just keeps getting better,” she muttered. She couldn’t remember the last time they had just relaxed with a drink. “What is going on, Harry?”

“I wanted to celebrate,” he said, and pulled out a bottle from the bag before casting a cooling charm and pouring them each a glass. But Ginny eyed the bottle suspiciously.

“Sparkling cider? What kind of celebration is this, you nut?”

Harry sighed while he ruffled up his hair, and Ginny could tell the evening wasn’t exactly going the way he had planned. “I guess I better just come out with it then, huh?” He dove back into the bag, and Ginny looked fondly back at the flowers. He really had found a lovely bouquet this time.

“So, this . . . came for you while you were gone,” he said, handing her a slightly weathered piece of parchment. She eyed him for a moment before finally looking down to read the post.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the part that made her gasp. She stared at the paper for a few more seconds before looking up at her husband, her eyes wide with shock. He was just watching her, grinning in a dazed and comforting sort of way.

“I know we weren’t planning on this, and I know this is kinda bad for Quidditch and all, but I just wanted you to know that . . .that . . .” he paused for a moment to place a hand gingerly on her stomach, using his other hand to pull her closer while he leaned his head to hers. “I love you, Ginny. And I love our little baby too.”

Ginny gasped and blinked back the tears that were already starting to form, before dropping the parchment and pulling her husband in for a tight hug. “Oh, Harry . . . I . . .”

Harry chuckled quietly. “It’s okay, I couldn’t form coherent sentences for at least an hour after reading it.” He pulled her into his chest and started stroking her hair. “Do you want some quiet time to think, or would you rather I kept rambling for a while?”

“So you’re . . . okay with this? Right now?”

Harry nodded calmly. “Yeah. I mean, it was really odd to think about at first, but once I got used to the idea a bit . . . it’s brilliant.” They held each other in silence for another moment, before Harry pulled away and reached for the bag again.

“I got you something else,” he said, holding out a wrapped box for her to take. She forced a smile at him and started fumbling the package open, but her hands were shaking so much that the simple knot was proving rather difficult.

“Maybe putting a big ribbon on the box wasn’t such a great idea,” he said, helping her take it off before stroking her hands gently. When she finally opened the box, she pulled out an impossibly tiny, light blue jumper with the words “Daddy’s Little Hero” written across the front.

And then she really did start to cry.

“I saw that when I was getting the flowers, and I just thought . . . everybody’s always called me a hero, and I never much felt like one. But maybe this little guy can be my hero. Because you’re giving me the best gift in the whole world, Ginny. We’re going to be a family together, luv.” He held her close and conjured a handkerchief for her while she sniffed her tears away.

“What on earth makes you think it’s a boy, darling?”

Harry laughed for a moment. “Oh, he told me so.”

“Is that so?” Ginny said, trying to stop the flow of tears. “Since when can unborn children speak?”

Harry ignored her and kneeled down on the floor, leaning in until his ear rested on her flat belly. “He’s excited to meet us,” he whispered.

“I’m surprised you haven’t named him yet,” she smiled.

“James,” Harry said quietly, leaning back onto his heels and drawing absentminded circles on her belly with one finger. “His name is James . . . Sirius Potter. I’ve had chances to have a father a couple of times in my life before, but now . . . now it’s my turn. And I may not know what to do, but . . . I’ll do the best I can for you, little man.”

“James Sirius Potter,” Ginny repeated. “Okay, luv.”

Harry focused his attention back on his wife’s face and his own eyes crinkled. “Are you okay with this?”

Ginny paused a moment before answering. “I don’t think I would have decided that we were ready yet. But . . . we can do anything, I think.” When Harry smiled in return, she brought her hand up to cup his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered. “We’ll just have to sort out the rest as it comes.”

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