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Chapter 2 : The List
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Ginny sat with James in her lap. She was glad he had Harry’s hair color and her bright brown eyes. He was only about six months old, but he was already obviously mischievous. Every now and then he would attempt to throw a bottle or try to catch the tan owl that sat in the corner of the living room.
Sometimes it was lonely with Harry always in the Auror office, especially on her days off. She had James, but you can’t really talk to a child only a few months old. Before she knew it, she would have another child to care for. Ginny was already three months pregnant.
She walked out the door simply for something to do. Ginny glanced at the yellow and red daisies and the amber peace lilies that surrounded the rustic oak cottage were she and Harry lived. The bottom of the house had a deck of large mixed stone covering the gray foundation on which it sat. It was on the opposite side of Godric’s Hollow, where soft hills rolled with tall green grass, like an emerald ocean. Hermione and Ron lived six houses to the west of their house. A tall willow tree swayed in the front yard, moving like a dancing veela in the setting sun.
Ginny loved where they lived and loved who she lived with, but when Harry wasn’t around it seemed so quiet. Well, of course it’s quiet; I live in the middle of some half muggle town. It's not like every few seconds I'm going to hear someone shouting Sectumsempra at the top of their lungs, She told herself. That was true, and maybe it’s why Ginny jumped when she heard the pop that meant someone had probably apparated to her back door.
She ran to greet the visitor, knowing that it was probably Ron or Hermione. But as she arrived to the back door, instead of seeing Hermione’s brown hair or Ron’s blue eyes she saw a piece of parchment. It appeared to be a list written in the strangest handwriting she had ever seen. Ginny didn’t hesitate to grab it from the deck and read the familiar names:
Ginevra? The last time someone had used her full first name was the preacher at her and Harry’s wedding day, even though she insisted he say Ginny. She scanned the list again, intrigued. At the very bottom were the tiny initials: C.F.T. Ginny was almost positive she didn’t know anybody with those initials. She folded the list and put it in her pocket.
With a sudden jolt of anticipation, she realized that some random person had came within a few yards of James without her knowing. She ran up the stairs, toward the first bedroom on the left. With my luck, it was probably some old stocker. Please be okay, James…Ginny thought nervously as she jerked his bedroom door open. There was blue sponged paint on the walls, and a picture of a newborn James moving his little fingers, breathing calmly. But all Ginny could see was the dark wood crib, embroidered with tiny broomsticks and twinkling stars, and in the cradle lay a sleeping James, his black messy hair sticking up, his breath making his chest rise and fall slowly.
Ginny took a deep breath of relief. He was okay, that was all that mattered. Thank Merlin, she thought. Ginny ran to the edge of the crib, stroked his dark hair as if reassuring herself that James was really okay, and would have hugged him if she didn’t want to disturb his peaceful nap. Everything was okay in his dreamland. He had no idea that a stranger had arrived, leaving a list of names on his porch, or that James was the name at the top on the list. He was probably dreaming about a baby unicorn named Bob trying to catch a snitch.
Why was his name on the list, not to mention the very top? Her stomach turned a little. Anything mysterious involving her son was weird, creepy, and had to be taken care of right then, or else she would not be a very happy mother. All she could think about now was showing the list to Harry. He usually had the right answer, and even if he had no clue, Harry was bound to have something uplifting to say.
Ginny started down the stairs. Her stomach suddenly turned upside down and she sprinted towards the bathroom. One of the many downsides of being three months pregnant, She thought as vomit poured from her mouth. Ugh.
She gave a slight yelp as she entered the living room from the bathroom. A tall, skinny man with untidy black hair and brilliant green eyes sat at the dining room table. "Merlin's beard! What in the bloody..." but Ginny was cut off.
“You nearly sounded like Ron,” Harry laughed.
“I’m sorry, it’s just I’ve had a stressful day,” she said grumpily with an exasperated wave of her hair.
“Oh really?” He said, apparently half amused, like he was wondering what could have possibly happened at their own house on Ginny's day off that would have made her act like that.
“Well, for one I just threw up,” Ginny wanted to get it all off her chest at once, even the stupid little things. Harry gave a little eye roll. “Hey! You try caring around a baby for three months and tell me how you feel!” she snapped. He gave a little smile but let her continue.
“And on top of that I found something weird involving James."
“Another dirty diaper that was so bad you had to cast scorgify on him?” Harry asked with another grin.
“No!” Ginny exclaimed, holding back her laugh. “I put him to sleep and went outside for about fifteen minutes, and I heard someone apparate to the back door. When I got there I found a list with James’ name on it. I realized someone must’ve come near the house and I ran upstairs, but James was fine. He was asleep in his crib where I had left him.” Harry’s shrugged his shoulders a little.
“Probably just a present from Kreacher,” Harry said carelessly.
“Of course you think that,” Ginny muttered
She crossed to Harry’s chair and placed the list on his lap. Her long red hair fell on Harry’s chest as she bent over to join him in reading the parchment for the second time that day. There was the crazy handwriting, and the familiar names:
Harry shrugged, "It looks like a house elves handwriting."
“Isn't it wierd they apparated here, though?"
Harry shrugged, "Not really; half of this town is wizards in disguise." James started to cry a bit after he finished speaking.
“I’ll get him,” Ginny said. She wanted to see him.
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