Ginny lounged on her throne, watching her newly returned husband. It was her birthday tomorrow; what would he bring her? Last year...Ginny giggled. Last year he had given her Malfoy’s hiding place.

            The house elf flinched at the sound; Ginny glanced at it. This one was certainly an improvement over previous attempts. But she had always envied that white-blond hair, dang it, and if it didn’t stop growing it words would be had. Ginny gave it a blinding smile, confident in the flinch that showed the matter would be taken care of.

            The house elfs had been Hermione’s idea, actually. It was slightly irritating, as were all things that Hermione meddled in...but that was a small price to pay for Harry’s smile when she and Ron would come over. And it was so good to see Ron looking so well. The Granger estate seemed to be prospering nicely. Quitting his job really had been the best thing, after that scandal, and he was much happier this way. There were the usual rumors, of course; most men just could not sympathize with not wanting to leave home for an office every day. But most women could, and that was all that mattered.

            Ginny herself was quite good at that, when the need arose, but was far better at managing the financial aspects; Harry handled the politics and socializing, which were largely the same thing now. The first few years had been so tiring. But they could all finally relax, with Azkaban out of the way and criminals carefully portioned off to certain families.

            Harry had just returned from a project about that; it seemed that one of the families had been upset with a placement. Harry, poor dear, had been forced to remove the thing to keep order, causing a four hour rant when he returned. “What is so attractive about acting like small children? Do they think I enjoy having to stop these squabbles?”

            Well, he was home now, and there was no sign a birthday present. That was to be expected; Harry was wonderfully good at hiding them. The first few years had been nerve-wracking; what if he forgot? Her family certainly had, at times – with eight children it was perhaps excusable, but still scarring – but while Harry had never once forgotten, he had also never given any hints of what it would be.

            Ginny’s eyes traced Harry’s form, bent over his desk. The couch was hers, by way of a long-standing family agreement, but the desk was his, and he enjoyed every inch of it. The whole thing was covered in piles – he actually wrote on a lap desk Hermione had given him one year – and was never, ever clean. The kitchen, on the other hand, was subjected to bouts of nervous cleaning once weekly, usually after Harry spent some time in his closet. Ginny had decided some time ago that his little quirks were what made him endearing, and neither of them would have given any of it up for the world; after all, she had a penchant for gold-and-dragonhide clothes and never seemed to invite her family over, regardless of how many times they pressed. It was only right for Harry to feel safe too.

            The children would be up soon. Seven, so far, and hopefully more to come. No more than two at a time, of course. Ginny and Harry were both very partial to her figure. And all were home for their Mum’s birthday, as they would all be at Mulligan’s in a few months. It was the way of things, and kept them close despite the age gaps.

            Ginny had long ago decided that Percy’s problem was that he had never had ever seen him looking truly and utterly ridiculous, until he was grown up and looking ridiculous meant losing his job. Harry had agreed with her, once their various definitions of looking ridiculous had been straightened out and the Dursley’s trial notification delivered, and both had promptly set out to provide siblings and embarrasing moments. This was another reason for gathering every birthday. After all, birthdays are practically one long embarrassing moment; it’s hard to argue with someone who’s seen you set your hair on fire blowing out birthday candles. And seeing everyone every few months meant that a nice balance was struck between smothering and abandoning, which also kept arguments low.

            Ginny sighed, and stretched off of the couch. Harry and the house elf – curse the little lizard, couldn’t it go stare at something else? – both looked up, just in time for her to give him a peck on the cheek and stroll out of the room to order breakfast.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“Oi! Mum! Where’s the potatoes? “

“In the cupboard, dear, and mind you don’t forget the butter! Remember last year, don’t put them near Georgina!”

“Jervus Alexus Granger! You put-that-spoon-down-and-get-out-of-this-kitchen-right-now!”

“Hermione! How wonderful to – JERVUS!”

“...”

“Well, we aren’t witches for nothing. Scourgify. Sometimes I don’t know how Mum managed.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAA!”

“That wasn’t little Harry, was it?”

“Yes, it probably was. Elf!”

“Yes, Mistress?”

Stop calling me that, and catch little Harry and get him back in the tub. Or into clothes, but dry him off first.”

“Yes, Mrs. Potter.”

“So how’s he settling in?”

“Quite well; still a little weepy, you know how it gets, but he goes to see his family every week and things seem to be working out quite well. It’s surprising how useful he is.”

“Good. I had my doubts, but the program does seem to be running smoothly so far. And none of the elves seem to be complaining or abused?”

“Of course not! Harry set it up so cleverly, with the elf-rights and friends getting first choice. He oversees the whole thing personally.”

“Granndmuuumm! Arthur’s pulling Julian’s hair again!”

“Oh dear. Well, it was nice talking with you, Hermione.”

“Hello love! Do you know where we put the extra chairs?”

“No, honey, I don’t. Maybe Dobby can find them?”

“He’s looking for Sirius and James. Why we named them after those two...”

            Dinner had gone amazingly well. The Weasleys’ were finally packed off to their homes, and the children were in bed.

            And Harry still hadn’t given her his birthday present.

            Ginny was anxious.

            Everything was cleaned up. There were no presents that had been overlooked. There was nothing at all, except for the wonderful birthday cake, and its twins that were likely in the bedroom cooler. Ginny had met Harry’s eyes from across the table when the dessert was served, and had been glad to see that he had been making similar plans for the chocolate-covered cheesecake. But that certainly wasn’t a present, although it had taken her five years to convince Harry. The training had been worth it, but she really didn’t want to go through it again.

            Ginny finally gave up with a sigh, and turned to go upstairs. On her way up she convinced herself that a present would doubtless be waiting for her when she got to the bed room. But when she opened the door, all she could see was Harry and...Harry?

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

Ginny squealed. One of the Harrys looked confused, while the other looked smug. She hugged them both for good measure, and then said,

“I take it this is my birthday present?”

“Yes, love.”

“I get two of the richest, most gorgeous man in the world? Brilliant! Oh, Harry.”

“Yes. I know you worry when I travel...so I thought you wouldn’t have to anymore. Hermione found these spells a little while ago, but Ron wouldn’t agree so she let me use them instead.”

“Wouldn’t agree?” Ginny thought furiously, and almost flinched. “Never mind, I’m sure I didn’t want to know.”

“If I could forget it, I would, love. Although we can try that, if you want.”

“No, you’re man enough for me, love.”

“If you want to...I won’t say no, I only want you to be happy and I’ve noticed that you’ve been bored lately and I thought-”

 “Harry, stop worrying. I love you, and I’m perfectly happy.” Ginny paused, racking her brains for something Harry could do to feel happy and useful. “I’m sure the upstairs bathroom is planning to plug again. The toilet was gurgling at the Juniors the other day.” And that was very likely their own fault – the Twins had definitely bred true in those girls. But whatever their nefarious plans were, thwarting them would do Harry a world of good. He hadn’t been able to clean the kitchen since the new houseelf came, which always made him nervous, and a good few hours spent swearing at the Twins and their dastardly ideas of fatherhood would be just the thing.

“Ok. I’ll check it out later.” A nod from Left-Harry, and a smirk from Right. “I can be in both bodies at the same time if they’re close. But when traveling, I’ll have to switch back and forth a bit, so I may not always be available when you call. I’ve assigned Dobby to watch out for me when I’m not here, if that’s alright with you.”

“That would be wonderful, Harry. Although – why didn’t you use the new elf?”

“Erm...”

“Harry, this isn’t someone we know, was it?”

“No! The body was perfectly cleaned out – Dementers are good for something.”

“It was someone we knew! Harry, dear, please tell me it wasn’t someone I liked...”

“No, we all hated him. I thought it was fitting revenge, he would never have lived it down – and he was a criminal, several times over – and-”

“Well, I’m glad it was a he. Never mind about the rest of it. He’s you now, and that’s what matters.”

And life went on in the Potter household much as it had before, with the exception that Mum was a little less nervous when Dad was gone. And if the new elf, who still sported patchy bits of platinum blond hair, was given to random fits of weeping when confronted with Harry, that was alright. House elfs were always a little bit funny around Dad, just look at Dobby for starters. And if Dad’s hair was sometimes a little greasier than normal, that was alright too; everyone forgets something, and didn’t Harry Potter have enough on his mind, what with the Albanian campaign going so badly? Bloody foreigners...