Response to Duct Tape && Bubble Gum writing comp at WB Boards.

Prompt: pink balloons

Little Lover Boy

Ginny slammed her fist into the throw pillow, a shriek ripping through the house as another contraction overtook her. She panted, sinking down onto the couch as the pain began to ebb away, wishing her idiot husband would hurry up and get home. She hadn't been able to make her way to the fireplace in the kitchen yet (which was where they kept the Floo powder for some unknown and absolutely ridiculous reason), which meant that she was more than likely going to deliver her first child into the world on her favorite sofa and have to remodel the den to match the new sofa she'd have to buy. That, plus never hearing the end of it from her mother, who had successfully delivered seven healthy children in their home and never had to replace a single piece of furniture. Was is Ginny's fault she wasn't as talented with blood removal spells as her mother?

She heaved a sigh and pulled herself up to her feet again, waddling slowly into the next room, thanking anyone who was listening for that last handful of Floo powder as she scooped it up into her hand. Ginny tossed the silvery dust into the fireplace, shouting the first name she could think of. "THE BURROW! " Shoving her head into the flames, she shrieked her mother's name, relief flooding her as the elder woman's face came into view.

"Ginny, dear! I'm so glad to hear from you; I was about to send your brother out to the market for me — did you need anything? How are you and my grandchild doing? Oh, Andromeda was just visiting with little Teddy and Victoire were just the cutest—"

"Mother! The baby is coming!" she shrieked, urgent as she felt another contraction coming on.

Molly looked for a moment like she was about to scold Ginny for interrupting her, but her expression quickly changed as she realized what her daughter had said. "Oh goodness!" she exclaimed, turning her head to shout over her shoulder. "Arthur! Arthur, Ginny's having the baby! No, George, forget about the market — because I said so, that's why! Ginny's having the baby!"

Ginny pulled her head from the flames as she mother continued to rant on about preparations and transportation and every other kind of –ation necessary at that moment. Where was Harry? He should've been home a half hour ago… and that was with all the extra time he usually took chatting idly with his friends at the Ministry. As the pain from another contraction pierced her, she decided she was going to murder him if he didn't get there soon.

"Ginny? Ginny, are you there!" Molly called, her voice full of concern. Ginny started to lean towards the hearth again, but her pain was too much. "Ginny, I'm coming over right now, darling!"

She sighed as the pain let up again and jumped slightly as her mother popped into existence at her side. "Mum, thank got you're here!" she gushed. "I don't know where the bloody **** Harry is and the baby's coming and I spilled a can of pain upstairs, so now I'll never be able to finish painting the nursery. Oh, what if Harry's gone for good, Mum? What if he finally got tired of my nagging about getting the wrong ice cream and not helping with the baby's name? Oh why didn't I just let him decorate the nursery with Gryffindor colors? Who cares if the baby feels pressured into Gryffindor when he gets older? Pressure makes diamonds, right? So—"

Ginny continued to babble on as her mother listened with half an ear, conjuring her Patronus and sending it to all her daughter's immediate family with the news. She Accio'd the overnight bag Ginny had packed after entering her ninth month of pregnancy and the younger woman's coat soon followed. She couldn't believe her daughter's bad luck of having the baby in February. It was so cold that Harry had hardly allowed her out of the house without at least five layers on at a time.

"—and I'm about to deliver his big-headed baby and he's nowhere to be found! What kind of husband is he?" Ginny cried, her hands on her hips as she finished her tirade, her chest heaving as she caught her breath.

"Ginny, sweet, please calm down. I'm about to Apparate us to the midwife's birthing center and I need to concentrate, dear," Molly said, wrapping her arm around her daughter's waist with her suitcase in the other hand.

Ginny wished Harry was the one with his arm around her.

"Yes, can I have all of these, please?" Harry asked the balloon vendor, smiling gratefully at the man as he handed over a handful of strings in exchange for a few bills.

Harry was determined to keep his wife happy today. She'd been even more extreme in her mood swings lately, going from screeching mad to lovey dovey and then down to the depths of depression, all within one hour. And where she had hardly even cried at the beginning of their relationship, she was now on the verge of tears nearly all the time. It was very disconcerting.

Harry continued down the streets of Muggle London, the balloons in one hand and a bouquet of white day lilies in the other. He was pondering whether to buy her some sort of candy when a silver weasel began dancing around his legs. Harry gasped and darted into an alley, thankful that the Patronus followed him.

"Ginny's having the baby!" Molly Weasley's voice rang out. "Everyone come to the birthing center as soon as you can make it!"

Harry felt his stomach tighten in shock. The baby was coming… Merlin, what was he going to do? Harry concentrated on the front lobby of Midwife Dieter's Birthing Clinic, Disapparating away with a pop.

"Hello," the witch at the front desk greeted him, a charming smile on her face. "How might I help you?"

"Erm, yeah… Harry Potter. Has my wife checked in yet? She's supposed to be going into la—"

"Oh, of course, Mr. Potter, where is my mind?" she exclaimed, beaming at him still as she conjured up a chart. "Right this way. Ginny's just been an absolute delight to have here."

"Really?" the witch gave him an odd look, making him quickly change his reply. "I mean, er, really?"

As much as he loved his wife, Harry rather doubted that Ginny had been any kind of delight to have anywhere.

Hours later, Ginny held a small, wiggling mass of blankets, beaming down at the child with all the joy in her heart. As Molly sobbed on about her baby being too young to have a baby, Hermione cooed at the little bundle over Ginny's shoulder, giving the elder woman the occasional pat every now and then. "Do you want us to send Harry in?"

"Please do!" Ginny said suddenly in an urgent whisper. "I just feel awful about earlier."

She was, of course, referring to when she screamed at him for offering her a glass of water when she'd asked for ice chips and told him to get out. ("I'll bloody murder you if you don't GET OUT RIGHT NOW!") Consequently, Hermione had replaced him in the delivery room at Molly's side. Now, however, Ginny rather wished she'd let Harry stay. She felt like such a prat.

And when he walked in with a bouquet of the loveliest day lilies and a mass of pink balloons, she felt like an even bigger prat. "Oh, Harry! Harry, I'm so sorry!" she said earnestly in that same urgent whisper, tears welling in her eyes.

He gave her a crooked grin and set the flowers in a vase at her bedside, leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips. "It's alright, Ginny, I understand."

She doubted that. "I should've let you stay, though, and I'm so sorry. I've been such a je—"

He stopped her, shaking his head. "Just stop, Gin. It's over now, and I've got a child to meet."

Ginny gave him a bright, beaming smile, handing him the little bundle carefully. "Harry, this is your son… James Sirius Potter."

She thought she'd spotted a tear in his eye, but decided she wouldn't mention it. It was a happy moment for her, but she knew it meant even more to Harry. She was glad he'd allowed her to name the baby, so that she could show him that she understood. He may have lost a lot in the war, but he had her. And now he had their child.

"I love you," he murmured. "Both of you."

Ginny beamed. "And we love you," she replied before a thought struck her as the balloons floated around, bumping the ceiling. "Why'd you bring pink ones?"

"Don't you know what today is?" She raised her brow at him quizzically. "It's Valentine's Day, Gin."

She blushed at her forgetfulness. She'd been so busy trying to prepare the nursery for James that she'd completely forgotten. Ginny smiled as he handed James back to her.

"Hello, my little lover boy," she cooed, kissing his fingers. "Happy Valentine's Day."

A/N: Day Lilies:

The symbolic meaning of the day lily is forgetting worries. As an omen for expectant mothers who wish for baby boys, the flower means "Suited for A Boy." The Chinese also venerate the day lily as a symbol of filial devotion to one's mother.