'It was a dark and stormy night,' Harry intoned in a low voice, making spooky shapes flicker around the darkened room with his wand as an artificial wind howled just outside the door. Five year old Teddy stared up at him, transfixed; his eyes wide and terrified. He was thrilling to the excitement of that scared feeling right in the pit of his stomach when the carefully orchestrated atmosphere was dispelled, almost immediately, by a throaty chuckle. He jumped as he saw Harry turn to glare at Ginny.

'I'm sorry, Harry, but I thought you said this was meant to be a scary story.' Ginny smiled as she said it, and she giggled again at Harry's confused expression. 'It's just that dark and stormy nights aren't all that scary.' She shrugged. Teddy didn't understand why she thought that – it had seemed pretty thrilling to him. 'It's just a wet night.'

'It's how all scary Muggle stories start,' Harry said and Teddy could hear defensiveness creeping into his voice. Ginny crossed over to sit by him. Teddy, who had been so scared a few moments ago, began to get bored and started squirming. He wondered when they would stop talking about stupid stuff and get back to his story. It was Halloween and he wanted to be good and scared, and all this talk was ruining the exciting pit-of-the-stomach scared feeling.

'But how is that scary?' Ginny asked as she slipped her hand into Harry's. Teddy rolled his eyes. When they started getting lovey dovey like this it was always ages before they got back to any good stuff – like telling him his scary goodnight story. He squirmed again and huffed a little to try and call their attention back to him. The adults paid him no attention at all; they were far too focused on their own debate.

'Well ... it's ghosts and ... and goblins ... and scary things like that.' Harry blushed as Ginny quirked her eyebrow at him. 'Okay, okay, I know ghosts, goblins and all that aren't all that scary for wizards ... but it's the stories I know. Besides, Teddy was scared.' He huffed out his breath in exasperation, and turned to Ginny with a glint of challenge in his eyes. 'I bet you couldn't do any better.'

'Wanna bet? You want a truly scary tale, you leave it to someone who grew up with Fred and George.'

Harry leaned back against the wall next to Teddy's bed, and waved his hand; indicating that Ginny should take a turn. Teddy snuggled down in bed, hopeful that this time he would get the spooky story of his dreams. He wanted to be truly scared, and all this arguing about stories was boring, not scary.

'There was once a witch,' Ginny said in a breathless voice,' who lost her magic while out in the woods alone one night ...' A cackle echoed around the room, and Teddy jumped. Harry merely snorted and said, 'Losing magic is scarier than a dark and stormy night?'

Ginny turned to him and smiled, and Teddy sighed again as his story was delayed once more. 'Yes! Just imagine being a seven year old witch, having just discovered your powers, and having Fred take you down to the orchard and telling you this story of being helpless without magic all alone in the woods while the prisoners in Azkaban were released one by one to attack you ...' Her eyes went misty. 'I remember being too scared to use magic for months even though Mum was trying to teach me to notice when I was getting a magical outburst and channel it.'

Teddy could feel his eyes drooping closed, and he shook his head quickly to try and wake himself up. Neither of the adults had seen him, he thought. He closed his eyes again, just once, in thankfulness. If they had seen him, he knew they would insist on leaving him to go to sleep ... and he still really wanted that scary story.

Harry was smiling at Ginny in a really soppy way when Teddy opened his eyes again, and he almost wished he could shut out the picture. Adults acting all gooey made Teddy feel uncomfortable. He loved staying here at Harry's house for weekends, but sometimes he wished things could be the way here that they always were at Nana Andromeda's. She never did stupid soppy things – and she never got distracted from telling proper stories by talking about telling stories. Teddy huffed, and Harry looked in his direction finally.

'Sorry, buddy. We aren't doing a very good job of this story thing are we?' Teddy shook his head, and Harry smiled as he ruffled his hair. 'Okay, how about we let Ginny finish her oh so scary losing magic story, then?' He cast another look at Ginny, who poked her tongue out at Harry but otherwise ignored his jibe.

'There was once a young girl called Ginny,' she said; her voice this time was low and strangely soothing. Teddy was too warm and comfortable to point out to her that was her name. He snuggled into his bed further and found his eyes drifting closed once again. 'She wanted a scary story, and when people were so very annoying that they wouldn't tell her a proper one ...' Teddy was too tired to giggle at that but his lips twitched in an almost smile. Ginny smiled back and carried on, 'She decided to go for a walk by herself to find a really scary story all on her own ...'

Ginny's voice tailed off as a tiny snore erupted from Teddy's bed. She took Harry's hand again and leaned against his shoulder as they watched the small boy relax into sleep.

'Nice work, almost-Mrs Potter,' Harry said, grinning as he leaned over to kiss her. 'I particularly liked the way you ignored all the shuffling and pointed sighs.'

Ginny laughed, careful to keep it quiet. 'Well, I thought your affronted glare when I interrupted was perfection. Nice acting.'

'I do my best,' Harry said, a hint of pride in his voice. He turned to look down at Teddy again. 'It's almost a pity that we promised Andromeda we wouldn't scare him today. That would have been much more fun.'

'Yes, it would,' Ginny agreed. 'Maybe next year we can talk some sense into her.' They backed out of Teddy's room, making sure he didn't wake up, then had a lively discussion when they got to Harry's lounge about what they might be able to get away with next year. In the room behind them, Teddy slept on, his dreams filled with annoying stories about storytelling rather than the scares he had been hoping for.