|SIYE Time:21:26 on 17th November 2017|
The Birds and the Bees...and the Owls and the Nifflers.
- Text Size +
Genres: General, Humor
Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Summary: Ginny decides it's time Harry gave Al 'The Talk'.
Hitcount: Story Total: 1817
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.
I know its been done to death, but here's my version. Happy reading.
Harry was rifling through some papers in his study when there was a knock on his door. “Come in,” he called, distractedly.
His second son, Albus, poked his head in. “Mum said you wanted to talk to me.”
Harry gestured for him to come in and take a seat. Al did, then looked at his dad.
Harry sighed. Ginny had told him it was time to give Al 'The Talk'. He remembered doing the same for James, and it had been an unmitigated disaster.
James, the prankster, had imediately noticed how uncomfortable his dad was, and so had started asking the most embarassing questions he could think of. He'd even asked Harry to draw diagrams for certain body parts or demonstrate the best way to 'relieve oneself'. Harry had ended up red-faced while James had snickered.
“Oh, erm, sorry Al. I, erm, think it's time we had 'The Talk',” said Harry.
“Oh good,” sighed Al in relief, “because I have loads of questions.” He pulled a small notebook out of his pocket and flipped it open. Harry could see pages and pages of writing.
“James has been telling me and Scorpius stuff, but I need to clarify a few things with you, Dad,” said Al. That was his son, with his analytical mind. Needing to know the ins and outs of everything. Harry winced at his own euphemism.
He looked at Al, waiting expectantly, and he was suddenly taken back to memories of himself getting 'The Talk'.
Hormones had run rampant at Hogwarts since they had announced the Yule Ball. Suddenly, looks were important, and being seen with the 'wrong' witch or wizard was a nightmare for one's social status. Not that Harry had time to worry about any of that. He'd been to busy trying to figure out the clue in the damn egg. McGonagall may have given the third years and up dance lessons, but Snape, Snape of all people, had taken the boys and given them 'The Talk'. Like most of his classmates, he'd cringed to hear the clinical way he described...everything. Harry barely took any of it in, and had been glad to escape outside.
He then decided to visit Hagrid, who looked a bit lost since the dragons had returned to Romania. When he explained to Hagrid why he looked a bit peaky, Hagrid then commenced to give him his version of 'The Talk', although with Hagrid, he used his beloved creatures as examples. Harry didn't want to imagine his owl, Hedwig, mating, and couldn't think about a Niffler for a long while without hearing Hagrid in his mind discussing 'mounting' and 'breeding' and 'gestation'. He didn't think he could use any of what Hagrid had told him and apply it to himself.
The boys in his dorm, particularly Seamus, were free to hand around the 'Playwizards' magazines, but it only took one look (okay, maybe a few), to realise he wasn't interested in that kind of witch. He had read the articles, though, which only confused him more.
Mr Weasley had tried to talk about it with him and Ron together in the summer after Harry lost Sirius. Harry had tried to get out of it, but Mr Weasley insisted. It was quite awkward, as for some reason, Ginny kept popping into Harry's mind when Mr Weasley discussed the girl's role, which then made it doubly hard to look Mr Weasley in the eye.
Fred and George had pounced on Harry and Ron once Mr Weasley had let them go, relieved that Ron was the last one he needed to give 'The Talk' to.
Fred and George had taken them to Ron's room, and used hand puppets to describe the act of love making. Ron and Harry had howled with laughter, but ended up more confused than ever by the conflicting stories that had just heard.
In the end, Harry had sat Ron down and told him the truth. For in his 'angsty' fifth year, in a moment at Grimmauld Place, and after his kiss with Cho Chang, Sirius had given him, 'THE REAL TALK'.
To Harry's surprise, Sirius had been factual and not embarassed at all. He'd been clear and easy to follow. He spoke freely and Harry had appreciated way he explained it all. He even asked Sirius some questions, and Sirius told him everything. Everything! So Harry explained it all to Ron.
They sat in silence, neither actually admitting they couldn't imagining doing that with a girl, let alone a girl they liked! Harry pretended not to know that Ron was probably thinking about Hermione right then.
It had been all right in the end. Harry and Ginny had reunited after the battle. Their relationship had endured a lot of separations early on, but they made the most of their time together, and one night, at Grimmauld Place, it had happened. It hadn't lasted long, but what they lacked in endurance they made up for in enthusiasm, and Ginny vowed they'd keep at it until they got it right. Nearly twenty years later, and even though they had got it right, the enthusiasm was still there, and would always be there. His Ginny was passionate and loving, and he was a better man for it.
“-Dad? DAD! Merlin,” sighed Al, shutting his book and standing up to go.
Harry snapped back to real life. “Al? Sorry son, I just got lost in memories.”
Al opened the study door. “Never mind, I'll go ask Mum!”
Harry sat back in his chair. He cringed, waiting for the explosion from Ginny when she realised she had to give their middle son 'The Talk'. When it didn't come, he went back to his papers, feeling as if he'd dodged a bullet.
He heard another knock on his door. “Come in,” he said, expecting an angry wife. Again he sighed in relief when he saw his twelve year old daughter, Lily.
“Hi sweetie, what's up?” he asked her cheerfully.
“Daddy, I need to go to Diagon Alley and Mum said you need to take me,” she said.
'Uh-oh, she only called him daddy when she wanted something.'
“Can't it wait till tomorrow, sweetie. I have some paperwork to go over and-”
Lily's eyes filled with tears, making Harry stop. “Lils, what is it?” He came around to hug her.
“I just got my period. Mum said she's talking to Al, so you have to take me to get, you know, stuff. The things I need,” Lily cried, red in the face.
'Touche, wife, touche,' thought Harry. “Wouldn't you rather your mum went with you. I'm sure she won't be long, talking to Al.”
Lily Luna stamped her feet. “I need to go now, Daddy!”
“Okay, okay. Let's go,” said Harry, ushering her out his study.
They went to the lounge, where Ginny and Al were having an intense conversation. They both looked up as Harry came out with Lily.
“Erm, Gin, I'll take over here, while you and Lily go to Diagon Alley, okay?” he asked.
“Are you sure, Harry?” Ginny asked, her eyes twinkling. Harry nodded.
Ginny patted Al on the leg, and got up to get her purse. “Let's go, Lil. We'll go to the pharmacy in Ottery St Mary's, okay? Bye boys, back soon,” she called.
Harry nodded, but the girls were already gone. He sighed and turned back to Al, sitting where Ginny had just sat.
“What's going on, Dad?” asked Al.
“Well, Lily just got her period, so she might be a bit moody or weepy for the next few days. Just cut her some slack, okay?” asked Harry.
Al chuckled. “Boy, you're getting both ends of the spectrum today, aren't you?”
Harry chuckled and nodded. “Yes son, I guess I am. So, where did your mum get to?”
Al flipped open his notebook. “Um, we just did E. Erections.”
“You've alphebetised it?” gasped Harry.
Al nodded, flipping the page. “So Dad, what can you tell me about foreplay?”
The floo flared and James stepped out. Harry almost kissed his firstborn son. “Look, it's James. James is here!” he cried.
“All right, what's going on?” asked James, suspiciously. He wasn't used to being welcomed home so enthusiastically.
“Dad's giving me 'The Talk',” said Al easily. “Although it's not going well.”
“Shall I get out Uncle George's hand puppets again, Al,” snickered James.
Both Al and Harry grimaced and shook their heads.
“What letter are you up to?” asked James, used to his brother's ways.
“F,” said Al and Harry together.
“Ah, good old F. So many words come to mind. Fu-” began James.
“All right, all right. Thanks James, I think I can take it from here,” said Harry, shooing James away.
“I'll be in the kitchen eating if you need me. Let me know when you're finished, or climaxed!” chortled James, going into the kitchen.
Al screwed his nose up, but he and his dad shared a smile, used to James' ways.
Harry turned back to Al. “Okay Al, forget the list. I'm going to tell you everything, absolutely everything.”
“This should be good,” cried a voice from the kitchen.
Harry sat with Al for the next hour, telling his son everything he needed to know. The more he talked, the more at ease he felt. When he was done, Al thanked him for being so open and honest with him, and went to his bedroom.
That night, all was well in the Potter house. Ginny had cooked a delicious tea, and then they had listened to the end of the Tornadoes-Arrows Quidditch match. Then they'd played card games and Ginny brought out a homemade chocolate cake for a late snack.
As Harry lay in bed that night, he realised this was what being a father was all about. Guiding his sons through the vagaries of life, teaching them to be good men. Both his sons had been so sweet to Lily, and without actually saying it, the cake had been for her and her transition to womanhood. They knew it and Lily knew it too, even if the words were unsaid to spare her any embarassment.
He turned to face Ginny, watching her as she slept. How lucky was he, to have this amazing woman be his wife. She'd been prepared to discuss things with Al and he knew she would have done it in a compassionate way. Then she'd been there for Lily, rubbing her back, hugging her and getting her a Muggle heating pad that she swore always worked better for her than any magic.
Ginny sighed in her sleep and cuddled closer to him. He spooned her, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. He would never tire of her, she was such a loving wife and mother. He had the best family ever!
Harry considered himself the luckiest man alive.
‘! Go To Top ‘!