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Chapter 1 : Mangos
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 13

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 I wish I had alcohol. I wish for a strong glass of firewhiskey, or at least to be drunk. So drunk I can’t answer any questions, and nobody would ever ask me again. That’s not going to happen. I wish it would though. Even if I puked my guts out on the floor, then the next day I’d get asked a thousand questions on why I puked.

Ginny used to get me out of it. She would take my hand and wave to the press, telling them, “Sorry, guys. He’s with me tonight.” Or she’d just pull me away, and once we were gone far enough, she would kiss me, making me think it was all worth it.

Then Hermione came and ruined it. She walked into our house while Ginny was trying to feed James and Albus as quietly as the boys could never be because Lily was asleep in my arms.

For years Hermione has been telling me the people are scared, they want to know, they want to know what happened. I told her to do it and go talk about it, but she says that she needs a private life so she can publish her books on house elves. That night was no different.

It’s what Ginny said to me that made me do it, after Hermione had left.

“If I didn’t know you, if you had never told me, I would have been one of those people. Those people that want to know. I know it’s annoying, but maybe you should just get it over with,” said Ginny, putting Albus on her hip.

So that’s why I’m here, and I’ve only been here for three minutes and I already hate it. The flat is huge with dark wooden floors and sliver walls. In the middle of the room is a bear-skin rug, with the bear’s face at level with my feet. I keep wishing it would eat me, and then spit me out back at my own home.

“Sorry for the wait,” says Romlida Vane, the Daily Prophet’s best reporter, so they say, walking into the room with high-heels so high it makes me wonder what her actual height is.

“So, Mr. Potter,” she says, smiling what seems like an unnatural smile. “Feel free to say no comment if you don’t want to reply on the question.”

I nod, still wishing for that firewhiskey. One without the stupid orange peel that she offered me before. It had tasted like a smoothie instead of the strong, numbing drink that I was hoping it would taste like.

“How does it feel being the Boy Who Lived?” she asks, her quill in a position to write.


“How does it feel?” asks Ginny, swinging back and forth on the tree branch.  We have three more days until she goes back to school, and I think I’m dreading more than she is.

“How does what feel?” I ask, leaning against the tree trunk across from her.

“Being someone that’s been called about seven different titles through bits of your life?” She’s not expecting me to answer, she’s just curious, which makes it easier.

“Like crap, but I have you don’t I to keep my mind off of it?” I ask, grinning hopefully.

“Course you do,” says Ginny, jumping down from the branch. “You always will.”


“No comment,” I reply, thinking about the memory, instead of what she’s going to ask me next.

Romlida sighs and pulls her hair back into a bun. “Well, tell me this, Mr. Potter,” she says, smiling, which I feel is an very evil smile. “What’s it like to know you’ve saved the Wizarding world?”


The train station is crowded with students, ready to go back home. I packed the slowest, I got on the last carriage, and I haven’t even taken of my school robes.  I don’t want to go home; I like it here too much.

There is only two more minutes until the train leaves, and I don’t even have my foot on the steps. I’m just waiting while Ron and Hermione went to go find seats.

That’s when Ginny skips up towards me; her smile is so big it makes me smile a little. She stops skipping when she reaches me and blushes a bit.

“I wanted to say thanks,” she whispers, looking down at her socks which have kittens on them. “Thanks for saving me from the Chamber.”

“It was nothing really,” I reply, feeling embarrassed.  She has already said thanks a thousand times in last two weeks.

“No, it wasn’t,” she replies, shaking her head earnestly, “It wasn’t at all.”

It took me forever to realize she was the only person I ever wanted to save.


“No comment,” I reply, looking at my hands.  I look back down at the bear’s face. If it bit me right now, I’d probably be in a lot of pain, enough pain to stop this interview at the very least.

“Well,” says Romlida, taking a long sip of her drink, she tilts her head back as she swallows it, making it obvious she doesn’t like to drink all that much. “Why don’t you tell me what’s it like to be one of the best Auror that the Ministry has seen?”

“I’m not the best,” I correct. “There are many others who do a lot more than I do.”

“Well, what’s it’s like to be an Auror then?” she asks, looking a little exhausted.


“You have to wear a tie,” says Ginny, holding out my only tie to me. When I look at it in disgust, she laughs. “Think of it this way. It does have some good points.”

“Like what?” I ask, putting it around my neck. “Sure it comes in handy if I want to hang myself, but I really don’t want to do that anytime soon.”

“Well,” she says, putting it around my neck in an attempt to tie it. “It’s good for spending one minute extra with me,” she says.

“You don’t know how to tie a tie, do you?” I ask, looking down at the mess of knots.

“No, no idea,” she says, laughing. She watches closely as I finish it off, and I have a gut feeling she’s going to be trying again tomorrow.

“What else is it good for?” I ask, already starting to pull at it.

“This,” says Ginny. She pulls my tie gently and kisses me softly. “See, ties aren’t so bad,” she says with a little smug smile.

She gives me the demonstration on how ties aren’t so bad every day.


“Can I have a different question?” I ask, taking a sip of the smoothie-like drink. Come to think of it, it tastes more like a mango than an orange.

“What’s it like to have kids?” asks Romlida, her voice sounding a bit strained for a reason that I’m not sure of.


“It’s going to be fine,” says Hermione, awkwardly patting my back. “It has been for the past two kids. This one won’t be any different.”

“Except you guys could slow down a bit,” says Audrey, shaking her head with disgust. “You’re on your third kid.”

I glance at my beautiful children. We did well. Me and Ginny. Though, if I mention the word we right now, she’ll have my head and go on and on about who was carrying the kids for nine months and so on, but in truth, she knows it too.

Today is the only day that I’ve seen James and Albus quiet. It’s an honest to god miracle. They’re just sitting there, flipping through one of the books that Saint Mungo’s has.

“Daddy?” asks Albus, looking up at me.

Ginny always goes on about how he’s got her nose, which is a good thing because mine’s a bit squashed. I get her back with the fact they both have my color of hair. It’s all good fun.

“Yeah, Al?” I ask, ruffling his hair a bit. If I’m not doing it, his mum is. She always tells him “you’ve been given messy hair, embrace it.” She says the same thing to me but substitutes messy for porcupine.

“Am I going to have a brother or a sister?” he asks, and James leans over to hear my answer. They’ve been asking me that every day since we told them a new family member is coming along.

“I don’t know,” I reply, glancing nervously at the door.

“Yes, you do,” says James. “You’re my daddy, and you know everything.”

“In the whole wide world,” adds Albus.

“Mr. Potter?” says the healer, poking her head out. “Your wife would like to see you now.”

I walk into the room, Albus and James right behind me.

“Look,” says Ginny, using her softest tone. I’ve only heard her use it four times counting this one. When she first replied with my I love you, and for each introduction of our children. “We have our first girl.”

I smile and kiss the side of her head, as James and Albus lean over to get a better look.

“This is Lily,” says Ginny, her eyes not meeting mine, knowing it was another name of my choice. “She’s your sister, and I hope you love her just as much as I love all of you.”

James and Albus look a bit skeptical, and it just makes me smile. We didn’t do well, we did fantastic, and Ginny looks over at me and smiles. She scoots over so I can sit next to her while James and Albus munch on the food they brought her before.

“She looks just like you,” I murmur, holding onto Lily’s little fingers.

“She’s got your nose,” remarks Ginny, smiling. “She’s got a perfect little nose.” I smile, and she leans her head on my shoulder.

This is my happiness in life.


“No comment,” I reply, looking out the window. I can’t wait to go back home, so I can see all of them again. I look at my watch, hoping the two hours have passed, and seeing instead the time I’m supposed to leave, a long way away.

“How about after the war? How did you feel after the war ended?” asks Romlida. She leans back into her chair and has lost all of her smile now, which, to be honest is a little easier to deal with.


Looking at her, I have never felt so broken. It’s those tears streaming down her beautiful face that’s killing me inside, that makes me wish I had the confidence to lean over and hold her in my arms. I wish I was better, I wish I was good enough for her.

Her head is lying on the table, her hair is falling everywhere, and her body is shaking slightly. I’m two tables away, and I haven’t taken my eyes of her. It’s stupid I can fight the man that people are scared to call by his actual name, but when it comes to Ginny, I’m suddenly broken.

It seems like I’m not even thinking, but with the cup of tea, that I was supposed to give her an hour in hand , my legs are moving towards her, and suddenly I find myself standing right next to her, and I have no idea what the hell I should do. A part of me feels more scared then I did while we were fighting.

“Hi,” I say quietly, holding onto that cup for dear life.

“What are you doing here?” asks Ginny, her soft brown eyes soaked with tears.

“I wanted to give you some tea,” I say, holding out the cup of tea. My hand is shaking so badly that the cup is rattling.

Ginny reaches out, her hands holding onto the cup, her hands resting on mine, her hands next to mine. It feels like it did before, it feels like happiness.

“Thank you,” she manages. She tries to smile. She moves over, and I take the seat so fast I look desperate, but I am. I am desperate. I don’t want to lose her again.

I don’t know how it happened, and one day, when we were brave enough, she admitted she didn’t either, but my hand was enwrapped with hers, and it felt a whole lot better than stupid old happiness.


“Eh, I’d rather not talk about it,” I reply, looking out the window again. Why won’t the view change? Why can’t we have an earthquake or something that just makes this pointless interview stop?

Romlida kicks off her shoes and glares at me. She lets her hair down, which I find was a big mistake because her hair is now everywhere. “Can you tell me what your wife is like?”


The rain won’t stop pouring. It’s dark and cloudy outside; if you take one step outside, you’ll be drenched in the first second. Honestly, this is really not how honeymoons are supposed to be.

“I’m sorry,” I say, turning to her. “I didn’t think it would be raining this much.”

Ginny smiles and rests her chin on my chest. “You want to know something?” she asks, smiling mischievously.

“What?” I ask, still feeling a bit bad about the weather.

“I’ve never spent one whole day in bed with an incredible guy, who I can now call my husband. I never had so much fun on a rainy day. I never felt this happy or this lucky. I never thought what we had could lead up to something like this. I never thought I could smile for this long. Not even for one second. I never cared that it was raining,” says Ginny, her smile is a mile wide.

I’ve never spent one whole day in bed with an incredible girl, who I can now call my wife either. She just took all I was feeling and put it into words. She always does that. She can make the worst day feel like a bowl of ice cream. She makes me smile too.

I open my mouth to reply, knowing I have no clue what to say. Ginny laughs and kisses me softly. “You’re pretty lucky to have me,” she says, before kissing me again.

She’s right.


“What’s your favorite food, for gods sakes?!” asks Romlida, throwing her hands in the air.

“You know, actually I’m a big fan of tuna fish,” I reply, wondering why Romlida is glaring at me. For all I know, today hasn’t been half bad. I get to see Ginny, and the kids in less than an hour.


Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please review :)

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