Chapter 1 Bad Baby

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When watching Harry Potter, my brother often asks me "why doesn't Harry just walk up to Voldemort and punch him on the nose?" To which I respond, "Two reasons: (1) You can't just walk up to Voldemort and punch him on the nose unless you want to die a painful death. (2) Have you seen Voldemort? HE HAS NO NOSE!"

Just thought I'd share that with you guys purely to entertain. ;)

 

Harry

Harry's fingers stretched out seeking Ginny's warmth. Nothing. He rolled over and checked the time; seven thirty. He groaned and got up, washed and dressed. Harry walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where Ginny was having a slight difficulty with baby James.

"No," Ginny said desperately, "James, do not throw your food. James- bad baby!" She turned to Harry imploringly, "please do something."

"James, stop it now," Harry walked calmly over to James, replaced the food with utmost patience and James sat there placidly.

"How-?" Gasped Ginny, wide eyed.

Harry shrugged modestly and waved his wand so some bread toasted itself and flew onto a plate. "Would you like anything?" Harry asked Ginny.

"Can you feed James?" Ginny asked, "I need to have a shower and get ready because Hermione's coming over."

"No problem," Harry replied and Ginny dashed off. Harry sat down in a chair next to James's high chair. "My dad was called James," Harry rambled to the baby as he fed him pumpkin puree. "I never knew him though, he died when I was your age, but I wont do that to you. If I did though, you'd be all right with Hermione and Ron, not like the Dursleys - and I don't know why I'm telling you this, you can't understand all these words yet."

James simply giggled and waved his little fists as Harry fed him.

Harry sighed, James really was hard work - more for Ginny than for himself, but hard work nevertheless. Harry continued to feed James breakfast and then washed the dishes, he then bit into his toast but it was cold. He hated cold toast. Harry waved his wand and the toast heated itself, when he bit into the toast it was delicious, the butter melted in his mouth and the toast was hot.

He was so tired. So tired. He needed a coffee. Harry got up and made a coffee, he left it on the table next to James so he could take the letters off the owl that was tapping on the window.

The Prophet, a leaflet about muggles, a letter for Ginny... a letter for Ginny?

Harry placed the post on the kitchen counter when he heard a gurgling noise, slowly he turned on the spot to see James blowing bubbles in his coffee.

"Damn!" Harry exclaimed, running to pull the coffee out of James's hand. He did not dare yank the coffee away in case it spilled on James, but little James was holding on as if his hands were glued to the mug.

"Harry!" Ginny's voice cried from behind him, "what are you doing?"

"James has my coffee, he wont let go!"

"He's what?" Ginny exploded, "why would you leave a cup of hot liquid with a baby? Are you mental?"

"No," Harry argued, trying to stay calm. "I put my cup down on the table and went to get the letters and when I turned around he had my coffee."

"That is so irresponsible! How could you leave hot coffee next to a baby?"

"Well, I was hardly going to leave cold coffee next to him!" Harry began to lose his temper ever so slightly.

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