Author's Note: This story was written for the Mother and Son Competition on HPFC, where I was given Ginny and James. I also wrote this story for LesbianLuna for the Ultimate Fic Exchange since she enjoys some Harry and Ginny love. I've had this little bit of headcanon for quite some time, so I'm really excited to finally write it out in a story. I can't believe I'm writing a second birthing story in less than a month. This better not be a trend; I don't know how many more I can handle!

A grey sea lapped against the cliffs of Holyhead, and rain pelted down on the roof of Osian's Pub, though the green-clad ladies celebrating out in the courtyard didn't seem to mind. They shouted out their victory against the Falmouth Falcons into the storm, which drove all the Muggles indoors and out of earshot. The entire team, reserves, and managements ordered one more round, the rowdy cheers scattered with questions of the whereabouts of their captain.

Ginny Potter sat inside a stall, dangling a golden necklace over her palm. The pendant's smudged portrait stared at the redhead as it swung in a perfect line from the tip of her middle finger to the bend of her wrist.

It had taken an entire week of carrying the necklace around like a good luck charm for Ginny to pluck of the courage to dig it out. The stupid trinket didn't seem to understand that good luck would have meant it remaining still above her palm, not drifting in a nonexistent wind. Ginny had long ago forgotten the predictions that came with the direction of the swinging, but the swinging itself gave her more than enough information.

Ginny was pregnant.

~oOo~

Ginny was in trouble.

"Have you any idea the risk you put yourself in, not to mention the team?" Gwenog Jones paced about the changing rooms after sending the rest of the team out. "Honestly, how long have you known, exactly?"

"About a month," Ginny said. There wasn't much use trying to lie and make this better now. Her teammates were a bunch of gossiping snitches. After formally announcing her pregnancy after their game against the Chudley Cannons—an announcement not just for the fans but for her teammates and family as well—it had only taken the amount of time it took Ginny to get to the changing rooms and remove her robes before Gwenog heard word that she was already showing.

Gwenog put a hand to her forehead and rubbed hard enough for her dark skin to turn red. "I knew the moment I put you on this team I'd one day regret it." Her hand fell back to her side, and she stopped her pacing to stand in front of Ginny with crossed arms and a hard glare. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"It's really not that big of a deal." Ginny shrugged and bent down to lace up her boot. Perhaps if she acted casually, Gwen's anger would deflate. "There are some witches that don't figure it out till about now anyway."

"But you did know and violated your own contract by still playing. Not to mention the risks!"

"Would you have liked me to abandon the team instead?" Ginny stood from the bench to face her old captain, even if she barely came up to Gwen's chin. "I only became captain last year! We were fifty points away from winning the League Cup, and this was supposed to be the year I won it! I wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that."

Gwen's face softened an almost discernible amount, and she took a step back. "I could kick you off this team completely, you know," she said in a stern voice. "But I won't. And not just because you've already announced you're staying on as captain from the ground." Ginny felt a prickle of guilt for that bit of manipulation of the public, but if it meant not being fired, she couldn't help the pride that pushed the guilt away. "You're good for this team," Gwen said in a kinder tone. "The Cup might as well be ours already. But as far as everyone else is concerned, you didn't know about this baby until today, got it?"

"Got it." She smiled, feeling the weight of the secret falling off her shoulders. After a month of white lies and hidden nausea and self-consciousness over the growth of her belly, Ginny could finally replace all the dread with joy. She was going to have a baby!

"Ginny!"

Harry rushed into the changing rooms, stopping short when he saw Gwenog, who looked curiously between the couple. "Oh dear Merlin, tell me you told this poor chap before now?"

Ginny smiled at Harry. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Yeah," Harry said, shaking his head at her. "You know how much a love surprises."

Gwenog huffed out a sigh but said, "Alright, alright, I'm leaving. But we need to have a contract rewrite meeting soon. Tomorrow. Bright and early. And I don't want to hear a single complaint about it."

She wagged a finger at Ginny's nose, though the petulant smile would not disappear from the younger girl's face. "Whatever you say, captain."

Gwen rolled her eyes, but just as she turned to walk away, she patted Ginny's shoulder. "Well, congratulation, I guess," she said before marching off.

It took a moment for Harry and Ginny to build up their momentum again, but after a shared grin, they run to each other. "We're really having a baby?" Harry asked as soon as his hands were on her waist.

Ginny nodded so fast she thought her head might pop off. "We are."

"We having a baby!" Harry lifted her feet from the floor and spun her around. Ginny's laugh meshed into his with perfect harmony, and neither of them could stop even as Harry pressed kisses into every curve of her face and strand of her hair.

"You aren't mad at me?" Ginny asked as she caught her breath.

"Not right now." Harry slowed his erratic pecks and finally went to her mouth. His lips were slow and gentle against hers. "I'm sure I'll be plenty pissed tomorrow."

Ginny didn't want to give him any time to think about tomorrow, so she pulled his head back down to hers and snogged him properly. Harry's hands slid across her waist until his thumb brushed against her stomach. He pulled away and stared down at her middle as his fingers drifted across her jumper and the barely protruding belly beneath it. "Or maybe next week," he said.

~oOo~

Next week proved to not be long enough for the bliss to wear off, nor did the next month. By then, it was Christmas, and Ginny's entire family was too happy admiring her now prominent middle to remember to scold her for keeping it a secret for so long.

At the start of the new year—as all the attention began to turn annoying—Fleur was expecting as well and took away enough of the happy chattering and tummy touches that Ginny no longer felt the urge to jinx anyone who came near her. Then Quidditch practices and games started up again, keeping Ginny too busy to listen to her mother's worrying. If dear old Mum had her way, Ginny suspected she'd have been on bed rest from Christmas to Easter.

Of course, by the time Easter came around, Gwenog had officially banned Ginny from all Quidditch fields until she could stand on her feet for more than five minutes.

"This kid better come soon," Ginny said as she sat out in the garden of the Burrow as the rest of the family ran after their various children.

"You should zink before you wish," Fleur said, waving a fan in front of her pink tinted face. "An early baby only means trouble."

"Honestly, if I had to have him at Hogwarts like you did with Victoire, I'd take it if it meant getting this all over with."

Fleur clucked her tongue. "Zis is the easy part," she said, rubbing a hand against her own pregnant belly and relaxing against her chair. "The trouble 'appens when zey are out in the world."

Ginny supposed she would have to agree with her sister-in-law. All across the garden were frazzled adults. Dad spotted Bill as he hoisted himself into the tree that Victoire had decided to climb all the way to the top. Her little legs swung back and forth as she giggled from a branch just out of Bill's reach. Ron and Hermione passed Dominique back and forth while she cried and wiggled and reached for her preoccupied dad. George and Angelina were checking behind every nook and cranny of the chicken coop, their faces growing more frantic as their game of hide-and-seek with Fred dragged on. Behind her chair, Ginny could hear the gentle squeaking of crayons against paper as Fred worked on another masterpiece. His parents could fret a little longer; consider it payback. Meanwhile, Molly and Lucy, who'd recently discovered the joys of running, had Percy and Audrey zigzagging across the grass with pleaded shouts to play blocks or patty cake or any other game that involved sitting. The twins didn't seem interested.

"They are little devils, aren't they?" Ginny said.

The back door burst open, and Teddy flew past in a whirl of blue hair. "Come on, come on, come on," he shouted over his shoulder as he ran towards the broom shed. Ginny and Fleur exchanged a confused look before Harry jogged out of the Burrow and followed Teddy's trail.

The six-year-old jumped up and down next to the broom shed as Harry finally reached him. "Can I pick any one I want?" Teddy asked as Harry opened the door.

Before his godfather answered, Teddy raced inside. "How about we start with something easy," Harry said as he stepped in after the child. "Like this Shooting Star?"

"Oh no," Ginny and Fleur said at the same time. They pushed themselves out of their seats and walked as quick as they could to the broom shed. Teddy emerged, dragging a dingy old broom behind him and crinkling the last few remaining undamaged bristles.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Ginny asked with her hands on her hips.

"Harry's teaching me how to ride a real broom!" Teddy said, resuming his bouncing and hopping his legs over the broom handle to straddle it. He swerved back and forth while making swishing sounds, driving the bristled end of the broom further in the grass.

"Only if we manage not to snap this old thing in half first," Harry said, lifting up the back end and saving the broom from Teddy's torture.

"Now wait just one moment." Ginny stepped forward and pointed at Harry, saying, "You're going to teach him?"

Harry gave her a mock glare. "And what's the problem with that?"

Ginny shook her head and patted his chest. "Let's face it, love, between the two of us, I'm much more qualified for this job."

"And what's between us automatically disqualifies you from this job," Harry said, putting a hand on her swollen belly.

Ginny swatted away his hand and stepped around him to Teddy's other side. "If you think I'm letting my only godson-in-law learn how to ride a broom from the second best teacher, you've gone mad." She stared her husband down until he relented and let the bottom of the broom fall to the ground. "That's better. Now, Teddy, we've got to get you sitting on this broom properly. Scoot back a little… and put your hands here—"

"You aren't letting him fly by himself, are you?" Hermione's worried words interrupted Ginny's instructions. She stared at Teddy like he was sitting on a manticore instead of a broom. Ron lagged behind, holding a sniffling Dominique against her chest while her big blue eyes stared with interest at the commotion.

"Of course not," Ginny said. "That would be much too dangerous." Despite her reassuring words, her mischievous tone of voice and shifting eyes did little to calm anyone's nerves. Then she lifted her legs over the broom and settled herself in front of Teddy. "This is the only way to give a proper lesson."

Both Harry and Hermione jumped forward. "You can't fly with him," Harry shouted, grabbing her arm before Hermione could get to her.

Ginny grinned up at both of them with a challenging smile. "Just try to stop me, Potter." She kicked off the ground, Harry's fingers loosening as soon as she moved forward. "Hold on, Teddy!" she yelled back at the kid, then waited only a moment for his little hands to grab her shirt before soaring up to a proper height.

Merlin, it felt wonderful to be up in the air again. Even as the broom dipped beneath their shared weight—alright, mostly her weight—Ginny felt that familiar rush that had made her want a career in flying from the first time she rode a broom. She wasn't going to let a little thing like pregnancy get in the way of that. Besides, the baby seemed to like it, if the constant kicking against her ribs was any sign.

They circled around the garden, low enough not to be seen from any distant Muggle houses. Ginny felt herself relaxing in a way she hadn't in months until Teddy tugged at her shirt. "Auntie Ginny, look!" He pointed down at the tree Bill was still attempting to climb. Victoire's once mirthful face now looked a bit uneasy, and her legs were wrapped tightly around the branch her father struggled to reach.

"Fancy yourself a rescue mission, Teddy?" Ginny winked over her shoulder, then flew towards the tree and circled it. The bustles of bright green leaves made it difficult to spot an opening, but Ginny did her best to get as close as possible to Victoire. "Come aboard, Vic," Ginny said, reaching out a hand to her oldest niece.

Victoire glanced down at her father then over at her aunt before scooting along the branch and grabbing Ginny's arm. Teddy helped Victoire sit between them, then said, "Hold on, Vicky." Ginny took that as her cue and directed the overcrowded broom to the ground.

"You're incredibly stupid and reckless, you know," Bill shouted at her as they drifted past him, though a smile tugged at his lips.

Ginny laughed. "So I've been told."

~oOo~

"Have I told you today this is all your fault?" Ginny clung to Harry's hand, the only part of her body that seemed to be giving more pain than receiving.

Harry glanced down at his watch. "It just turned midnight, so no."

If not for every single one of her muscles cramping up in that moment, Ginny might have laughed.

"I think one more good push will do it," Madam Baker called from the end of the bed.

"Are you saying my other pushes haven't been good?" Ginny shouted. Apparently, getting a rise out of her helped, though, because a moment later the room was filled with cries. The excruciating pain faded, leaving only exhaustion in its place. Ginny barely noticed Harry leave her side until he returned with their baby bundled in the red knit blanket Mum had made for him, already embroidered with his initials: J.S.P.

Madam Baker approached her other side and dapped a cool cloth against Ginny's brow. "I've birthed five Weasley babies before this—and I'm expecting a half dozen more—but this little chap has the record to beat for fastest delivery."

"That's because he's half Potter," Ginny said. "They're known for rushing into things." Harry glanced away from James for only a second to make a face at Ginny, which she returned. Madam Baker chuckled, excusing herself to give the new family a private moment.

Ginny smiled as she watched Harry swaying with the baby, quieting James until the room was silent again. "So," Ginny said after a minute, "are you going to hand over my son or not?"

"You got to have him for the last nine months," Harry said in a hushed voice. Ginny scoffed, not able to draw up enough annoyance to say anything more. She could watch Harry hold James forever. "And here you thought you'd be a bad father," she said.

His rhythm fumbled, but he shrugged. "The first minute seems to be going well at least."

Ginny chuckled, though she would never be able to express how much joy his hopeful tone brought her. There were only so many rare times when Harry's face fully relaxed and she could see all the stress from the Auror Department leave his mind completely. As he gazed down at his son, she could not see a single worried crinkle.

Then James started up his wailing again. She let Harry struggle for a moment, smiling at his bewildered expression, then said, "Alright, alright, hand him over." She took the crying baby, slipping off the sleeve of her nightgown and pushing down the fabric to let James nurse. "You haven't had this training yet," she teased. "You weren't around when Teddy was this young."

"No, I wasn't." Harry ruffled his hair, a wrinkle running down between his eyebrows again.

"You're not worrying again, are you?" she asked, reaching out her hand to pull him closer.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, putting an arm around her shoulders. "I'm always worried," he said, kissing her temple. "One of us has to."

~oOo~

"I'm seriously worried about your sanity." Gwenog stared at Ginny with a raised eyebrow as she walked onto the Harpies' practice field with a one-month-old baby swaddled against her chest.

"You did say I could come back as soon as I felt up to it," Ginny said.

Gwen stepped in front of her, the rest of the Harpy team staring at the confrontation from behind her shoulders. "I don't think I said to bring your new kid."

"You didn't say not to."

The rest of the girls giggled while Gwen looked like she might've punched Ginny if not for James. "You are such a liability," she muttered before marching past Ginny.

"At least she's learned not to argue with me." Ginny shrugged and turned to her team. "Now, let's get those brooms in the air, ladies." The team blinked back at her, glancing between themselves and their co=captain. "Oh, alright. Come say hello to James, but then we go about practice like normal."

Ginny had spent almost the entire last month cooped up in Grimmauld Place with James and her mum, taking visits from family one at a time. She was not at all prepared for the stampede of women that crowded around her. They chorused their 'ooh's and 'aw's until Ginny handed James over to be passed along like a quaffle. Luckily, James loved attention. He giggled and gurgled and spit-up in excitement. Ginny almost felt jealous that her only son took to strangers like family and wouldn't miss her until feeding time, but she did enjoy the short break.

"He's got such a personality already," Nia Roberts, Ginny's co-captain, said as she spun around with James. "My niece is nearly three months old and still hardly ever smiles."

"Luckily, he takes after me," Ginny said, taking back James and tucking him into his sling. "Now enough gawking. Time to see how rusty you lot got in my absence."

Some of the girls immediately mounted their brooms and flew up into the sky. "You're aren't joining us up there?" Nia asked with a smirk as she straddled her broomstick.

Ginny grinned. "Don't tempt me."

~oOo~

"We knew we were tempting fate when we mentioned it to my mum," Ginny said, stacking up the boxed up toy brooms. So far, there were three, and James still had two unopened Christmas presents that looked about the same size and shape as the rest of them.

Harry sat beside her with one of the unopened presents in his lap. He tore away one corner, revealing half of a Nimbus logo. "I think fate won."

Ginny was exceptionally glad she and Harry hadn't opened James' gifts at the Burrow in front of everyone. She wouldn't have been able to keep a straight face. "If this kid doesn't like flying, he's screwed."

Harry laughed, lining up the last two toy brooms next to the others. "We can't keep all of them," he said, balling up the wrapping paper and scooting back on the carpet. "The one I hit is the one we keep."

"Don't be so juvenile," Ginny said, snatching the balled up wrapping paper from him, then tossing it at his face. "We're obviously keeping the best one."

"They're toys, Gin." Harry straighten his glasses before tossing the ball back at her. She blocked it, and the ball flew over Harry's ducked head. "They're probably all the same."

Ginny picked up the nearest box. "Do you really want the first broom your son rides to be a Cleansweep?"

"Maybe you've got a point." Harry glanced at the pile, looking over their names. "We've got to keep the Nimbus then."

"Oh, don't get all sentimental on me," Ginny said. "If that's the road we're going down, we might as well choose the Comet. That was my first broom."

"Well, technically, I think the first broom I ever rode was one of the school's Shooting Stars—"

"And we are not giving up the Firebolt," Ginny interrupted when she saw the only box left.

Both of them exchanged a look then glanced around at the toy broom boxes that had piled up around them. "We're keeping all of them, aren't we?" Harry asked.

"It's only fair."

~oOo~

Being a mother really made life unfair. Ginny bounced a screaming James as she sat in the rocking chair beside his basinet, unable to get her shirt off fast enough. Harry barely even stirred in bed. The first few days, Harry had gotten up with her until she told him off for being late for work every day. It had taken a lot of time for him not to jump awake at the slightest sound from James, but nearly a year later, he merely rolled over and went back to sleep.

It wasn't Harry's fault that he was pretty much useless during these nightly meals. Why did girls have to be the ones with breasts, anyways? They were the ones that had to go through nine months of hell. Men should at least have the burden of midnight snacks and chaffed nipples.

Trying not to fall asleep in the rocking chair, Ginny concentrated on the five shadowed toy brooms mounted on the wall behind James' basinet. Both she and Harry had agreed he was still too young to ride one, but in a few months, maybe they'd finally stop using them as decorations and let James play with them as intended.

When James slowed down his suckling, Ginny burped him and attempted to rock him back to sleep. The baby smiled and blew raspberries, not showing any signs of yawning. There was only one thing left to do.

Ginny wrapped James up in his knit blanket and herself in a robe. Then she crept out of the room and up to the only outdoor space at Grimmauld Place. She opened the door to Regulus Black's old bedroom and stepped out onto the roof. Her slippered feet squelched against the grass as she walked through the garden and to the single tree—courtesy of Neville—that stood in the very centre. Their most recent addition to the house swayed from its branches.

The sun peaked up over the city's horizon as Ginny sat in the cushioned seat of the swing. She crossed her legs under herself, letting the enchantments push the pair backwards and forwards. James laughed as the air hit his face, but before Ginny could even see half the sun, his eyes were closed.

She watched the yellow rays light up her son's face and the way it made his freckles stand out. His auburn fringe hung down to his eyebrows, but Ginny didn't have any urges to cut it. The strands blew back and forth with the rhythm of the swinging, reminding her of Harry.

As the sun rose higher, Ginny touched her foot down to the ground and stopped the swinging. Before she could even stand up, James' brown eyes popped open. "You're such a little bugger," Ginny muttered, tapping his nose with her finger. He smiled like he knew exactly what he was doing, and Ginny settled back into the swing. The breeze ruffled his hair again, and he reached out a hand as if he could grab the wind. Ginny held his tiny fingers in her own as she leant down to kiss his head. "Stop trying to grow up so fast," she said. "You were born to fly… just not yet."