The Baby Tale by Kezzabear

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!
Rating: PG-13 starstarstarstarstar
Categories: You're Having My Baby Challenge (2010-1), You're Having My Baby Challenge (2010-1)
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2010.02.12
Updated: 2010.02.27

The Baby Tale by Kezzabear
Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Author's Notes:

Ginny rolled her eyes and hopped off the narrow bed in the poky examination room in the back corner of the basement at St Mungo’s. She shrugged out of the examination gown and dropped it on the bed before stepping over the head of the Healer who was slumped on the floor. Her patience was completely gone and she didn’t even care that the idiotic man had keeled over in the middle of her examination. She had gone there against her will in the first place but Gwenog had been adamant at training.

“Listen, Weasley,” she said, taking Ginny’s broom out of her hands, “you’re not coming out on the pitch until you’ve been cleared.”

“But I’m not-”

“You said yourself you’ve been feeling a bit off,” Gwenog said, putting the broom away. “And I think we all know the kinds of things that go on during honeymoons.” Ginny shuddered as Gwenog laughed raucously.

“I’m not pregnant,” Ginny said, crossing her arms and scowling.

“Just do us all a favour and check,” said Gwenog as she headed for the door to the pitch. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that the captain was gone and Ginny was alone, fuming in the empty change rooms.

Ginny had forcefully stripped off her uniform and thrown it into her locker grumbling the entire time before pulling on her street clothes and stomping out of the Quidditch stadium. She’d given old Jameson the caretaker a rather grumpy frown as she took a pinch of Floo powder and then whirled to St Mungo’s where she’d managed to bribe the Welcome Witch with an autographed picture of Harry to see the first available Healer.

The fact that this Healer was a pimply faced, weasel-like teenager just out of Hogwarts was a small price to pay for discretion. Ginny was pretty sure no one she actually knew had seen her in the waiting room and the examination had been fairly uneventful until the Healer had decided that he needed a drop of blood for his tests and passed out as soon as he pricked her finger.

Ginny poked her head out of the door to the poky examination room and scanned the corridor before stepping out. She figured Hermione would be able to tell her if she was pregnant in half the time and do it without drawing blood and fainting. If she was lucky, Ginny could get to Hermione, get her negative result, go and placate Gwenog and be home before dinner.

Ginny made it all the way back to the ground floor before she had to duck behind a pole to avoid Fleur. It was admirable that her sister-in-law came to visit the old people in the incurable ward, but Ginny didn’t want anyone spotting her here — certainly not a member of her rather large and nosy family. She and Harry had avoided them all since they’d returned from their six week honeymoon and Ginny had no desire to start reconnecting with her family by getting an air-kiss from Fleur in a crowded St Mungo’s waiting room. Slipping past Fleur as she headed towards the stairs, Ginny quickly left St Mungo’s and made her way to the Ministry.

As she ducked into one of the ladies’ bathrooms on the third floor, Ginny cursed the fact that she had such a large family who all worked in the stupid Ministry. She avoided her father and Percy easily as they were engrossed in a lengthy discussion about Muggle cauldron decorations when they entered the lift in which Ginny was already riding but she’d been unlucky enough to spot Ron sauntering down a hallway which had sent her flying into a nearby stairwell. She’d come out on the sixth floor and on her way to the lifts had nearly run into Harry and the last thing she wanted was to explain to her husband that she needed their sister-in-law and best friend to perform a pregnancy test. Thinking she was going into a bathroom, she found herself sliding down a chute that deposited her in a third floor patent office where George was patiently explaining his Vanishing Boots to the bored, gum-snapping woman behind the desk.

And now she was trapped in the third floor bathroom while Charlie was arguing with the man behind the reception desk to the Department for the Care and Control of Magical Creatures. Ginny wished the receptionist would give Charlie the dragon reserve paperwork so her brother could just leave. Ginny was getting desperate and about to cast a Disillusionment charm when the door swung open and Hermione practically skipped into the bathroom.

“There you are!” Ginny exclaimed.

“Ginny!” Hermione smiled. “You’ve been scarce lately! Your mother gave Ron and I the third degree on Sunday when you two didn’t show up, you know. Haven’t you been back for nearly a week now? I think your mother’s about ready to show up on your doorstep!”

“We’ll go see her later, listen-”

“It’s good to see you too after so long, Ginny,” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Ginny pointedly.

“Sorry, sorry!” Ginny cried, flying to Hermione and engulfing her in a hug. “I just … I need you to do something for me. Do you know how to do a pregnancy test?”

“A what — are you — really?” Hermione’s eyes lit up.

“No!” Ginny scowled again. “Gwenog just wants me cleared and the stupid Healer at stupid St Mungo’s is a stupid idiot and I just — please?”

“Well,” Hermione said slowly, “I don’t actually know any spells for it — why don’t you ask your mum?”

“Are you insane?” Ginny shrieked. “Ron’s rubbing off on you, isn’t he?”

“Well, she’d know them!”

“I’m not giving her any indication I’m pregnant!”

“I thought you weren’t?”

“I’m not!” Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “But she will think I am if I ask — won’t she?” Hermione nodded reluctantly and Ginny slumped against the bathroom wall.

“Fleur?” Hermione tried tentatively. Ginny just gave her a withering look. Hermione grimaced. “Right … erm … we could try Muggle tests?” Ginny raised her head.

“Do they work?” she asked sceptically.

“Well, Muggles use them,” Hermione shrugged.

“Gwenog might buy it,” Ginny muttered pushing herself off the wall. “It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Worth a try,” Hermione said. “Let me just er, go and then we’ll go get one.” Ginny blushed and sidled outside trying to avoid Charlie as she hovered outside the bathroom waiting for Hermione.

It wasn’t long before Ginny found herself staring at an array of Muggle pregnancy tests in a poky little pharmacy on Charing Cross Road. Hermione was inspecting the packages and muttering under her breath while Ginny eyed her surroundings and hunched further into her coat.

“So I really think this one is the best,” Hermione said with finality, waving a blue box under Ginny’s nose.

“Okay, sure, let’s just get it and go before anyone sees us!”

“Please, who are you going to run into here?” Hermione rolled her eyes expressively and plucked a pink package from the shelf.

“I thought we were getting the blue one?”

“We should do both,” Hermione answered, “to be sure.” Ginny shrugged and began walking towards the counter when she stopped suddenly, cursing her luck and trying to hide behind the pantyhose display.

Her mother was standing at the counter inspecting a tube of bunion cream while Hermione’s mother gave the man behind the counter several odd looking coins and took a small paper bag from his grasp.

“Oh Merlin’s dangly toenails!” breathed Ginny.

“What?” Hermione asked, snickering.

“Mum,” Ginny hissed. “Ours!” Hermione peered over Ginny’s shoulder.

“Oh, that’s not good.”

“You think?” Ginny said, shrinking further back into the pantyhose display. The entire stand suddenly fell over and packets of flesh coloured nylon spilled across the carpet tiles, skittering into the rack of parenting pamphlets and landing on Molly Weasley’s shoe. Ginny tried to scuttle backwards and behind the magazine rack when her mother looked up and spotted her.

“Ginny!” she cried and ran towards her daughter like a Seeker chasing a Snitch. The verbal assault on Giinny’s ears was threatening to divide, conquer and take over her head when one question finally pierced her skull.

“What are you doing in the pharmacy, dear?” Ginny blinked as her mother smoothed her hair and kept talking. “Although I shouldn’t be surprised, Harry was raised by Muggles after all, I expect there are some things he still relies on. I know Hermione still uses that silly Muggle toothpaste. I really don’t know what’s wrong with a nice pot of Fletcher’s tooth powder from the apothecary, but I don’t interfere. I just came here today with Jean. We were having lunch — she knows some very quaint little places here in London and she just had to pop in to get this perspication filled. I hope Harry doesn’t need a perspication, dear — I’m sure he can get whatever he needs from the apothecary.”

Ginny shook her head mutely and looked desperately for Hermione. If the fink had gone and left her high and dry and abandoned her to the mercies of her own mother, Ginny was going to have to seriously re-think Hermione’s position as favourite sister-in-law, after all Ginny had plenty to choose from and Merlin knows Fleur had been angling for that spot for a while.

“Band-Aids!” a voice called breathlessly from behind Ginny and she turned slowly to find Hermione waving two small boxes aloft. “Can’t quite break the habit. There’s nothing quite like a band-aid for making the pain just go away and when you work with paper as much as I do, well the cuts are just murder.” Hermione trailed off lamely, the box of flesh coloured strips dangling by her side.

“Of course, dear,” Molly Weasley murmured vaguely to her future daughter-in-law before turning back to Ginny.

“Both of you, come over tonight for dinner,” she eyed Ginny grimly as if daring her to defy her. Ginny plastered a smile across her face and nodded. Satisfied, Molly Weasley bid them both goodbye and followed Hermione’s mother out of the shop.

“Did she see?” Ginny asked desperately as Hermione turned to the counter, scanning behind it for the pharmacist. He was busy, deep in the shelving that lay behind the counter.

“No,” Hermione answered, dropping the band-aids on the counter and subtly waving her wand, watching them transform back into the pregnancy tests. “Your secret’s still safe.” Ginny breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, what do we do now?”

“We go home and you pee on it,” Hermione answered matter-of-factly. Ginny just stared at her and Hermione pulled her out of the shop and chuckled all the way home.


Harry scowled at the paperwork on his desk. He’d been stuck there all afternoon and thus been completely at the mercy of anyone who decided to swing by his office. Ron he expected. Ron was his partner and had met him on his first day back from his extended honeymoon with the latest Quidditch magazine and the biggest box of pastries Harry had ever seen. But Harry had successfully avoided the rest of the family for most of the week — until today. It was like the entire Weasley clan descended on the Ministry and they all found some reason to visit Harry.

Arthur had been first. He sauntered into Harry’s office at five past nine and perched himself on the edge of Harry’s desk. Harry smiled nervously at his father-in-law and tugged his hands through his hair.

“Morning!” Arthur said cheerfully. “How’s it all … er, going?”

“Fine,” Harry said, smiling bravely and wondering why Arthur Weasley was swinging his leg back and forth carelessly.

“And Ginny? She’s fine too?”

“Um … yeah?” It came out like a question but Arthur beamed.

“Excellent, excellent!”

“Is there something I can … do for you?” Harry asked, shuffling a few pieces of parchment nervously. Arthur just smiled brightly and shook his head.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” he said cheerfully before standing up and striding to Harry’s office door. “Yes, er, have a good day!” Arthur slipped out of the room quietly and Harry shook his head.

The pile of paperwork didn’t seem to get any smaller as Harry worked and when a brisk knock sounded at his door an hour later Harry looked up gratefully. At first. Before he realised it was Percy.

“Good morning, Harry,” Percy said officiously as he strode into the room and carefully evaluated the overflowing rubbish bin, the teetering stack of Quidditch magazines on top of the filing cabinet and the wilted flowering plant in the corner.

“Mornin’,” grunted Harry as he bent over his parchment industriously, hoping Percy would get bored and leave. He forgot that Percy was a man riveted by cauldron bottom thicknesses.

“I trust your holiday was … restful?” Percy said stiffly after a few moments. Harry’s quill stilled and he looked up at his brother-in-law slowly. Percy was shuffling his feet and staring at the painting of Hogwarts that Hermione had given him when he’d started full time at the Ministry.

“My honeymoon was very enjoyable, thank you Percy,” Harry said with a grin. “But, no, I wouldn’t call it restful.” When Percy began to turn magenta, Harry ducked his head back to his desk to hide the grin spreading across his face.

“That’s … ahem … wonderful, wonderful,” Percy shuffled his feet some more.

“You can go, Perce,” Harry said without looking up. “I’ll let Mum know you’ve dropped by and passed the time of day with me and I’m still alive.” Percy scuttled out of Harry’s office faster than Ron confronted with a spider.

After lunch, Harry’s afternoon had been a series of ill-fated brotherly visits. Bill had dropped by unexpectedly, explaining that Gringotts business had brought him to see Kingsley.

“So …” Bill said, stretching out in the arm chair in the corner of Harry’s office. Harry just hummed and pretended to be working diligently on a report. Bill shifted restlessly and Harry sighed, putting down his quill.

“Just ask, Bill,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“I just wanted to make sure you were … okay,” Bill said quietly. Harry tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Sure I’m okay,” Harry said, frowning.

“Just … I’m here if you need to … um, talk,” Bill nodded and stood up, wiping his palms on his robes. Harry just stared at him. Bill cleared his throat and slipped awkwardly out the door. Harry shook his head and went back to his paperwork, actually completing an entire report before Charlie showed up.

“Hey, Potter!”

“Hi Charlie.”

There was silence as Harry methodically dipped his quill in the ink and carefully signed his name to the bottom of the report. When he looked up he found Charlie thumbing through the Quidditch magazine that had been on the edge of Harry’s desk.

“Yes, I did have a good trip, thank you,” Harry said, snickering as Charlie swore and dropped the magazine. “It was great, really … great.”

“Oh, well that’s good then,” Charlie said, flushing red. “Haven’t seen you in a while, thought I should … you know …” Harry nodded and listened to Charlie ramble about dragons for a few minutes before he hastily excused himself. Harry shook his head as he flicked his wand to close the door behind him when the door suddenly flew open again.

“Hello!” sang George flamboyantly as he flung the door open, grinning widely. “How are you, my favourite brother-in-law?”

“I’m your only brother-in-law,” Harry said pointedly, tossing his wand on his desk and giving up on the paperwork.

“Details … details my vertically challenged friend!”

“Oi!” Harry glared at George who threw himself into a chair and propped his feet on the edge of Harry’s desk. “You’re shorter than me now!” George waved a hand dismissively.

“Are you not delighted to see me and would overlook-”

“What do you want, George?”

“You wound me!” George protested, holding his hands to his chest.

“You. Want. Something.”

“You have so little faith-”

“You don’t work here, you hate coming here in case you have to talk to Percy,” Harry replied, folding his hands behind his head. “You want something.”

“So, I was in the patent office-”

“And you got here, how?”

“You interrupt too much,” George said petulantly. Harry just smirked at him. George sighed. “Fine. We all know how much you were, after you were married, looking forward to-”

“Yes,” Harry cut in impatiently. “We all know that we don’t need to rehash it.”


“You want to … what?” Harry furrowed his brow trying to decipher George’s remark. “How many times I — no! That … that is none of your business!”

“Oh come on!” George whined.

“Not only did I not count,” Harry said emphatically, “that’s private!”

“Oh puh-lease!” George rolled his eyes. “You love it and you love everyone hearing it. Admit it!”


“Ginny loves it too,” George said. “She totally loves hearing you!”

“Sweet Merlin, have you no brain filter?”

“She says she doesn’t but really she does.”

Harry stared at George and contemplated how many ways he could dismember him and hide the body. George sat there, smirking, his feet tapping a rhythm on the edge of Harry’s desk, vibrating the piles of parchment and threatening to wobble the quill holder right off the end of it.

“George,” Harry said, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. What we do in private is none of your business.”

“I don’t care about that,” George said. “I’m interested in the public-”

“We don’t have sex in public!” Harry roared.

“Good for you, Harry,” Ron said as he ambled through the door. He turned to George. “Did you find out yet?”

“You … you traitor!” Harry glared at Ron.

“What?” Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. “We all thought it was … endearing how you couldn’t stop calling Ginny your wife before you left.”

“Yeah, Harry!” George grinned. “Why won’t you tell me how many times you called her ‘my wife’ on your honeymoon?” Harry stared at both of them before grabbing a stack of the Quidditch magazines and throwing them at their heads.

“Or ‘Mrs Potter’,” added George, laughing as he ducked the flying magazines and Ron swore.

“What was that for?” Ron demanded, scooping one of the magazines off the floor and throwing it back at Harry. “George, if you turned this into a sex question again, so help me …”

Harry shook his head in resignation while George grinned mischievously.

“Stop asking Harry about his sex life,” Ron whined. “It’s just icky!”

“I wasn’t,” George protested. “I want to know if the whole ‘Mrs Potter’ novelty has worn off yet!”

“It hasn’t started,” Harry said, summoning the Quidditch magazines from the floor and meticulously arranging them neatly on the edge of his desk. “She’s still Ginny Weasley and she hasn’t decided whether to change it personally and not professionally or not change it at all or … whatever other options there are. Besides we only just got back, she hasn’t had time to fill in any paperwork.”

“I don’t mean officially,” George said rolling his eyes. “It was just so … cute when you kept talking about ‘my wife’ at the reception.”

“You two are girls, aren’t you?” Harry asked, standing up. “Endearing? Cute? Go, just go find your manliness and don’t come back until you do!”

“Or what?” George asked insolently.

“I’ll send my wife after you,” Harry said with a smirk.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

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