Harry didn’t know how he felt. After all, he had only kissed Ginny Weasley nine months ago and made his promise. He was happy that they were together, though he had always felt that someone was missing from the picture. Then again, he wouldn’t need to spend countless hours alone in his living room, sipping warm butterbeer and petting his snowy owl Hedwig. He Apparated into his office at Auror Headquarters in the Ministry of Magic to catch up on some unfinished paperwork, and looked around . . . everything appeared as normal. The album of his parents on the shelf, pictures of criminals, his to-do list, and he�”smiled�”his new family.

















In the very center of the photo were Arthur and Molly Weasley. Scattered at the old couple’s feet were Marcus, Duncan, Peter, and Bryan, the sons of Charlie and Emily Weasley, who themselves were seated to the left of Molly and Arthur. Harry watched Fred and George Weasley wave merrily up at him. Next to the twins were the happily married Bill and Fleur Weasley; in their arms was a squirming one-year-old Annasophia. Also in the picture was Harry’s best friend Ron Weasley; finally his eyes settled on himself and Ginny, who was showing signs of her pregnancy. He grinned again. He just couldn’t explain how excited he was just thinking of becoming a father.

















He was in such a good mood despite his working on New Year’s Eve that he decided he would take a stroll around the ministry to spread some New Year’s cheer to the other laborers. He had only reached the beautiful golden fountain when his best friend and brother-in-law Ron Weasley hustled over to him looking beyond excited. “Harry, it happened yesterday!” he cheerily squeaked like a mouse that had just conquered the cheese monger. “What happened yesterday?” asked Harry, confused.







“Well, I tried to call you on the felly tone, but I got the numbers mixed up and I couldn’t figure out the buttons,” he said, blushing. It was times like this that he really regretted not taking Muggle Studies in Hogwarts.







“Yeah, go on!” Harry encouraged, eager to find out what was making his friend so incredibly happy.







“I proposed to Hermione, and she accepted!” blurted Ron.








“Ron, that’s great! Ginny’d honestly go mad if you hadn’t,” he laughed. “And I suppose there wasn’t much choice left since Seamus ran away with Lavender in our seventh year.”







“Oh come off it, I was over her years ago, and that was just to make Hermione jealous.”







“Good evening, Potter, Weasley.”

















Ron and Harry turned to face a pale, pointy-faced man with cold grey eyes and sleek blonde hair, donned in a cloak.








“The same goes to you, Draco,” returned Harry cooly. “Couldn’t guess what you’d be doing around here at this hour.”

















“Shouldn’t you be at home enjoying your dinner and feeding mashed squash to your offspring?” inquired Ron.?? “Well, I usually leave that to my wife. And as a matter of fact, I had dinner with the minister tonight.”







“Put poison in it again?” said Ron with his face contorted in a snarl.

















“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about, Weasley. Now if you would excuse me, I’ll be able to get back to my,” Malfoy sneered in disgust, “Family.”








“Married life not treating you well since you ran off with Parkinson?” sneered Ron.








“Heard your wedding bells ringing, Weasley, and just wanted to pity your children. A Mudblood for a mother, and a pauper for a father.”
“If you don’t shut up right now, I’m gonna stick my wand up your�”“ Ron began, raising his wand and lunging at him with his face contorted with rage.







“Malfoy, Potter, Weasley! Not fighting I presume?” Minerva McGonagall was bustling down the corridor toward them. “No, professor,” Harry, Ron, and Draco let go of each other’s robes and looked at their feet.








“Shouldn’t you all be at home? It’s quite late. I mean, your wives will be wondering where you are.” she asked.








“I was just congratulating Weasley here on his engagement to Granger,” said Malfoy, sneering.







“Well, it was nice to see you, Mr. Malfoy. You need to be getting home. And as I can’t take any points away from Gryffindor or Slytherin, Weasley, you’d better go too. Oh, and congratulations!” she added as an after thought as Ron took off to the Auror Department, scowling at the thought of being treated as a school boy. “Potter, come with me. I have some news for you.” Harry followed her to the fountain, and sat down.







“Harry,” she said, “Your wife just sent an owl for you.”

















“How did you get that?” Harry asked in bewilderment.

















McGonagall frowned slightly, “ I happened to be walking past your office and your wife’s owl was battering against the window, so I let her in. The owl seemed very urgent.”







“And . . . ” Harry said, prompting her to continue.







“You’d better read it yourself.” She handed him a roll of parchment. He unfurled it and read:







Harry,







Come see me in ward 16 on the seventh floor of St. Mungo’s as quickly as you can. They’re coming. Hope you get off work soon.







Cheers, Ginny.







P.S.: Happy New Year!




















He nearly fainted.







Harry tore down the corridor with Professor McGonagall shouting “Good luck!” after him. He ran into his office, grabbed his coat, and was scribbling a note to Molly Weasley telling her what had happened.







“Any news yet?” asked Hermione Granger, one of Harry’s best friends, who had appeared at the door.







“Well, I just received a letter from Ginny saying that she’ll be delivering soon. I’m just leaving now to stay with her. The babies are three months early so I’m more or less shell-shocked.” He said, sinking into a chair.








“Harry I’m coming with you. Oh my gosh, this is great but, I mean, three months premature? What if something goes wrong?” She started wringing her hands, and hugged him as she saw him go paler. “We should go. Ginny needs you.”

















They Apparated into a snowy Muggle street. They trundled through the snow, almost knocking over several Muggles while looking for a certain display window amongst the shops. Finally they stopped outside of an old red brick building.







Hermione spoke clearly to an old manikin. “St. Mungo’s Hospital.” The doors unlocked, and Harry and Hermione stepped inside.







The welcome area was near empty, except for a custodian and the snoozing Welcome Witch. Harry and Hermione stepped up to the desk. Deciding not to wake her, they signed their names in the guest book, and headed for the seventh floor. They turned the corner of the hallway, Harry counting the doors along the way. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen�”there! They opened door sixteen, and found Ginny lying in bed breathing deeply.







“Harry, Hermione, please sit down! It’ll be a while before anything, and it’s a private ward too. Come on... sit down!” she greeted.

















It wasn’t long before the entire Weasley clan was seated around Ginny’s bed, chatting about Ron and Hermione’s wedding, politics, family and the usual things adults talk about. Before long, Ginny started moaning.








“Someone - get - Healer - O’Dowwa,” she said between painful breaths. Hermione stood up and walked out of the room in a near run. She came back about thirty seconds later alongside a squat witch. The pair walked over towards Ginny.







“All right, I need only one family member in right now.” Healer O’Dowwa pushed the protesting Weasleys out of the room. She turned back to a pale Harry, and a red Ginny. “Okay, Mrs. Potter, we’re at ten centimeters now. When I count to three, I want you to push as hard as you can. Breathe in and out. Okay?” Ginny nodded. “All right, Mrs. Potter... one... two... three!”








Harry clenched his wife’s hand. He was so nervous he could’ve thrown up or fainted. Ginny screeched in pain.







“Again!” said Healer O’Dowwa. “One, two, three!” Ginny gasped again. “Mrs. Potter, I think I see a head crowning!” the healer said.







“It’s coming, Ginny!” Harry cried.







Ginny screeched once more, and a loud wailing sound filled the air. When it calmed, Ginny said, “So what should we name her, Harry?” Harry looked up at Ginny holding a baby with curly red hair. “Dunno... I guess I’ve always liked Lian,” said Harry shrugging.

















“Hmm...” puzzled Ginny, closing her eyes.







“But then again, you did say you liked Krystal,” said Harry. “Maybe something like a combination. Like Christina-Lian?And we could call her Christy?”







“Christy... Christy-Lee Potter. That sounds right,” said Ginny again, this time wincing. She called out, “Healer O’Dowwa, will you come here please?”







Newborn Christina-Lian Amanda Potter was handed over to Harry as he sat back down. The same witch, along with several other healers hurried over to Ginny. Harry couldn’t see what was happening, because his eyes were filled with tears of joy. But then, just as his watch turned 11:59, he heard very soft, choked up crying issue from a second bundle that almost instantaneously stopped. Ginny was holding their second child.

















“This is Samantha, Sammie,” she said. And she shut her eyes, falling fast asleep, leaving it so that Harry couldn’t argue about the decision.







The door to the room suddenly burst open. Hermione, followed by the rest of the Weasleys bustled into the room.







“Oh, Harry, they’re beautiful!” cried Molly, gazing at her new grandchildren.







“What’re their names?” asked Ron.







“Well, this one’s Christy (short for Christina-Lian) Amanda,” said Harry, pointing to his redheaded daughter. “And this is Samantha Riley,” he added, gesturing to the raven-haired child in his arms.







“They’re so sweet!” cooed Hermione, tickling Sammie under her chin. The baby giggled.

















It truly was a happy new year.

Sammie woke the next morning with a sharp pain in her shoulder.



“Well its about time you woke up,” said her extremely bossy twin, Christy, who had been prodding her.



“What day is it?” Sammie asked sleepily as she did on most days.



“It’s dad’s birthday you troll! Get up!”



“Aye Aye captain,” Sammie said as she saluted her sister and rolled out of bed. She stood up and looked in the mirror. Her dark shoulder length hair stood out in odd places and was filled with knots. Her bright green eyes stood out in her freckled face. She quickly combed her hair and threw on a t-shirt and shorts, ran downstairs, and knocked Christy down a flight of them.



“Sorry Christy, I didn’t mean to!” she sang mockingly as she skipped down the stairs.



“Yeah right Samantha,” spat Christy, using the first name her sister despised. “You only meant to know me down six flights of stairs!”



“True statement Christina! Happy Birthday Daddy!”



Harry laughed, “Thanks Sam. Now since you’ve made your entrance, please go get the mail.” His daughter groaned, and reluctantly thumped up the five flights of stairs until she reached the little owlery on the sixth floor.



She picked up the bunch of letter that the family owls, Hedwig and Go, had left and looked at the addresses. She mumbled about who they were for quickly.



“Mom, Dad, Dad, Dad, Christy - Christy gets mail?! - and... ME?” She ran to the mail shoot that lead to the kitchen, and threw her family's mail down.



She sped up the stairs to her room. She plopped down on her bed and looked at the envelope. It read,



Ms. S. Potter

44 Westbury Ave.

London, England

United Kingdom



She tore open the heavy yellow parchment and read,



Dear Ms. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts

School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.



She scanned the rest of her letter and started running, but tripping over Christy’s pet cat Starlit, she fell down the stairs and landed on her face. Her nose felt numb, and she could vaguely feel warm blood gushing from it.



Harry rushed over to her and helped her into a chair. Ginny immediately began healing charms to mend the broken nose, and clean up the blood. “Are you OK honey?” she asked Sammie sympathetically.



“I made it to Hogwarts,” Sammie said thickly, holding up the bloodstained letter.



“That’s great Sam,” her dad said cheerily, “Christy made it too.” Sammie just noticed that Christy was laughing uncontrollably. She scowled at her sister. Christy wiped a tear off her cheek.



“That wasn’t funny Christy. You better not bring that stupid animal to Hogwarts.”



“Hey, don’t call Starry a stupid animal,” said Christy in defense of the white ball of fluff in her arms. “You’re the animal here.”



“Well then you’d better not be bringing that attitude to Hogwarts.”



“Attitude? Me? Who’s the one who purposely knocked her sister down the stairs this morning?”



“You’d be best off not being so clumsy when you march down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeons!”



“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Harry was glaring at the bickering girls. “No one, and I mean NO ONE, is going to have to suffer from house rivalries under this roof.” The youngest Potter, Felix, dropped his bottle with a wail. Harry’s expression softened. “No matter where the Sorting Hat puts any of you, you are a Potter and mum and I won’t love you any more, or any less. It’s not our houses who determine who we are, it’s our personalities.” He glanced from girl to girl, “Alright?”



Sammie and Christy both nodded.



“Ok then. Who wants to go to Diagon Alley for a wand?”



--------



Using floo powder was nothing big for Sammie and Christy. They had used it at their house, all their cousins houses, in sores, at Grandma’s, almost everywhere. After Felix had finally finished his wailing session enough to hold a bottle, they were finally able to approach the fireplace.



“Mum first,” said Harry.



“Alright,” Ginny answered, grabbing a tiny pinch of floo powder. “Here goes.” She stepped calmly into the fireplace and shouted, “Diagon Alley!” With an eruption of green flames, she was gone.



Sammie stepped forward into the wispy smoke, grabbed an enormous handful of powder, thrust it into the flames and. . .



“ AAAAAACCCHHHHHOOOOOO!!!!!!”



A gigantic sneeze pushed its way out of her nose. She started spinning and spinning, faster and faster, going upwards and down through swirling blackness. She was knocked out cold as she hid her head on the hard brick walls that surrounded her. Spiraling lifelessly towards the earth. Landing on hot flames, bouncing from wall to wall.



Suddenly, she was yanked out with such a strong force, that had she been conscious, she might have broken her neck.



A few hours later, she half consciously stood up, but fell flat on her face with a sickening crunch. She immediately regained consciousness, and felt that her nose was once again dripping in warm blood. She didn’t recognize where she was at all. Obviously, she was sitting on the hearthrug of someone’s living room, but she couldn’t say whose.



“What on earth are you doing here?” said a voice from the doorway.