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"In what kind of shit did you got yourself in now, Potter?" Ginny knew that her voice was high, her face was flushed and her husband was staring at her, terrified.
Of her. Good. He should be.
"It was an accident Gin..."
"An accident is not specific enough, you prat."
"A stupid one. A very stupid one." He offered.
Ginny started to walk around the hospital room, a hand on her huge belly and a murderous look directed at him.
"I was trying to surprise you. For you, you know? Your birthday." Harry kept adjusting the sheets of the hospital bed he was sitting on. Doing his best to avoid her gaze.
"Wonderful surprise, Harry" Ginny made an irritated gesture with her hands to the protection spell around him, a visible barrier that covered his bed. "A quarantined husband for my birthday. Thanks a lot, twat."
"I'm sorry"
"You should be." She took a deep breath while sitting in the armchair beside his bed. "You scared me to death, arsehole. I thought that something had happened at work when Ron showed up at the house like that"
"I didn't mean to scare you. Especially because of the baby." He stopped for a moment, one hand tugging and rumpling up his hair. Then he looked at her belly with a frightened face. "You two are okay?"
Ginny tilted her head to the side and he must have known that she was deciding how to kill him, judging by how he gulped in fear.
"We're good." She dismissed the subject with a hand wave. "Now, how did you got yourself in this situation?"
"I rather not speak about it." And Lord behold, Harry Potter was flushing like a teenager.
That only amplified her curiosity.
"Come on Harry. The healer told me that you are radioactive. Like about to glow in the dark radioactive. You've got to give me something besides 'I rather not’, Luv."
"About to glow… Come on, he shouldn't say things like that!" Harry said in an indignant voice and she almost gave him a smile, but just almost "He scared you for no reason whatsoever, it was just…"
"No reason whatsoever?" She interrupted him. "A radioactive husband sounds like a good enough reason for me. You're gonna make me interrogate Ron about it, aren't you? 'Cause let me tell you, dear, I will figure it out. And it was just what?"
"Ron doesn't know what went on. I just called him after the thing happened"
"The thing happened? You sound like you're talking to a reporter from the Prophet. This wasn't a 'thing that happened' at work, Harry. You said it yourself. A 'no comment' line is not working with me. Honestly, the way you're going on…"
"Can we just forget about it? I didn't even get to finish, so I still have to find you a proper birthday present. I have a lot to do and they won't let me out until the radiation is gone. And Ron shouldn't have stunned you like that either."
"We can not 'just forget about it'. And we won't. And Ronald knows better than to hide things from me. Something that I thought that you learned from him. Now, what 'thing' happened?"
"I just realized that I shouldn't have told you about that interrogation technique. You can use it all too well." Harry said in a grumpy murmur. "But doesn't matter if you will repeat everything I say. I'm not telling you what happened."
"That's what you think. I reckon I'm gonna give you some moment to reconsider your attitude, 'cause you're clearly traumatised about the experience."
"Traumatised?" His voice went high. "It was a stupid accident, Ginny. At this moment, I'm pissed off. I don't know what to give you for your birthday now. I don't have much time to find something at this point. Did they tell you when I'm going to be released or they just terrified a pregnant woman unnecessarily?"
Ginny reclined in the armchair, watching Harry getting more and more disgruntled as he talked and couldn't shake off the idea that he was looking a lot like the teenage Harry. Acting like everyone was thinking that he was going mad even with the people that knew very well that he wasn't. She used to think that that was rather lovely about him. How the truth was so important to him as the people that he cared about, and he couldn't bear the idea of they don't believing in him.
Now, it sounded more like nonsensical mumbling. Mostly because she knew that there was absolutely no reason for this reaction.
Something was wrong.
"A week or so."
"A week or so?"
"Now who is copying who?" She said amused.
"Your birthday is in three days." He declared, indignation boiling in his voice. "How am I supposed to get you a present, a decent present, while stuck in a hospital bed?" With that he started to try to get up from the bed, but was too weak to achieve nothing more than untangling the bedsheets from his legs before becoming pale. He plopped back down and rested his head against the fluffy pillows. "Shite!" He muttered.
"What's the matter with you?" She asked while frowning her eyebrows.
"Nothing. Just hate being stuck here. You know how bad I am with hospitals. That's all" He barely opened his mouth to give her the answer, his voice low.
"All right, Harry. What's going on here? Is it just about my sodding present? You know I don't care about that at all"
"So I almost die trying to get you a nice thing and you don't care about it, huh? Very nice of you Ginny. Very nice" And he actually had the audacity of crossing his arms around his chest and turn his face to her after that.
Ginny's eyes opened wide, her mouth following the motion as she found herself utterly surprised by her husband.
That kind of attitude of him had disappeared with the war. That juvenile irritation which was so characteristic of his late teen years was now a funny memory to reminisce about when they were talking of their Hogwarts times. Definitely wasn't something that she was expecting to see in a father-to-be Harry Potter. And though she was a little amused about the whole 'back to fifteen years old I can believe you said that' Harry, she knew that something was wrong.
She just needed to figure out how to deal with that. And to be quite honest, in any other situation she would try at least a subtle approach to her. But today she wasn't having it.
"Don't you dare say this to me, Harry Potter." His head lifted from the pillows so fast that she knew she was getting somewhere, maybe a fight, but at least somewhere. "You don't want to tell me what happened, fine, don't tell me. But don't you dare say that I do not care about what you do for me, and don't you dare act like I don't know you! There is something wrong, and if you don't want to tell me what it is now, that's fine too, but do not act like I'm being unreasonable here! Ron showed up at the house, dead worried about you, saying that you got yourself hurt and were at the hospital. I get here and the healer says that you did something dangerous enough to be under a protective bubble 'cause you are too contaminated to even get up from the bed. And then you are here, acting like everyone else is exaggerating a situation that you pretend is acceptable. I don't fucking care if you are going to spend my birthday at a hospital bed. I'm going to be here with you and that's the important part. Would I rather not have a quarantined husband for my birthday? Of course, I would! But it is what it is. We deal with that. So please stop acting like a fucking grunting teenager because of a present, ok?"
He had deflated while she talked, and she could see he was chewing the inside of his mouth, another one of his old habits which indicated nervousness. He looked so small in the bed now, as if trying not to occupy any space. She grimaced at him, but her irritation had gone by the time she relaxed against her seat.
"Please, tell me what's going on?" She asked again, a soft, tired voice coming out this time. She was exhausted these days because of the baby, and the whole dressing-down that she gave him didn't help. He looked guilty and refused to meet her eyes.
"Sorry," He said, ashamed. "I just really wanted to give you a nice present you know. You're such a wonderful woman, Gin. I realised how I don't say that enough, or show you that I think that. I'm sorry for my behaviour. You know how much I hate to be in the hospital bed."
"Why are you so worried about the present this year? Is it the baby?"
"Yes and no" He started to flatten his hair again. Ginny waited in silence, head tilted to the side. "I know that the last few months have been mad. And I should be working less, no more now that you need me close. But things in the office don't seem to quiet down. I know that I am secured for the six months after the birth, but it doesn't seem fair. I need to be close to you, now.”
"Harry, this is..."
"No, please, let me finish, would you?" He was wearing the 'this is so important to me that I don't know if I can go on if you stop me' face. He didn't make that face very often and it was always a good idea to let him speak out his thoughts when he did. After all, letting him get these kinds of declarations out of his chest helped them end up back together after the war, and engaged after that.
"Okay. Do it."
"I'm terrified, Ginny. And I don't like it. I'm way too used to being terrified, but that doesn't mean that I can deceive myself into thinking I'm not. I guess I don't have the slightest idea of what to do when the baby arrives. The whole parenting thing, I never…" He adjusted his glasses, made movements with his hands that did nothing to convey the meaning of his words "I'm afraid that I cannot be a good dad, you know? The fact that I'm damaged goods is just the tip of the iceberg . I never had a dad... At least one that I can remember. And you, you have been amazing. To me, to us. And you are so 'let's do this' in your actions that just keep me in awe of you all the time. And I know you are scared too." He added before she could. "I mean you are crazy, but not that crazy. After all, we are hardly 25. And I know, I know that I'm not bad, that I didn't run for the mountains when you broke the news. But it was just because you look at me and help me see that I'm so happy, that I'm so lucky. And that I can do it. Or at least try. And you're so wonderful, did I said that already? 'Cause you are. And I don't know how to let you know that. How grateful I am, how fucking grateful I'm that you stayed, that you waited."
"So, you decide to give me a radioactive present?" She was sobbing now. Bloody hormones.
He chuckled a little, she smiled at him through her tears.
"It was a stupid accident. I'm sorry, the fact that I know that you don't care about presents just makes me feel worse."
"Next time, just bloody write me a letter or something, Potter."
"So you can handpick something when you need to abash me? No, thanks, we went through that at our second-anniversary. You still throw at me 'I was kinda addicted to your touch' every time you want to avoid some chores at home."
"What made you think that I was not going to use 'cause you look at me and help me see that I'm so happy, that I'm so lucky'? Come on, hon, that's gold. I should keep it framed, and I'm never doing the dishes again." She said with a smirk. "You are not going to tell me what happened are you?"
"No"
"You gave this whole speech just to make me forget about that, didn't you?" She knew he didn't, but she would give him that.
"Of course, Gin. Did it work?"
"For now, Potter. For now. But I still need a better present than a radioactive husband"