A Magical Roleplaying Experience 

 #36543  by Harry Potter
Location: 12 Grimmauld Place • Date: 22 February 2004

"Ginny, you in the kitchen?" Harry called out as he hung his coat on the hook by the front door. He had just come from work where he had faced his latest performance evaluation. Despite being Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, killer of Voldemort, he still got a little nervous around annual performance time. He knew he was good at his job but that did not mean he was going to get shining reviews. Half the job was performance, half was politics. He had never been good at that part. Despite this, however, he had done a satisfactory job and secured himself a small raise and an ever growing list of responsibilities.

He was excited about all the possibilities the future held.
 #37855  by Ginny Weasley
Ginny stood hunched over the kitchen sink, staring down into its basin. The parcels of shopping she'd brought home after work still sat unopened on the counter, save for one, which appeared to have been rummaged through quite urgently. Ginny had arrived home with a plan and -- she'd thought -- some resolve: but here she was, standing over the kitchen sink as she had been for the past quarter of an hour, the unused pregnancy test still lying blank and resolute at the bottom of the basin.

It wasn't that big a deal. Just a late period and a little queasiness in the mornings the past week or so. And so what if she turned out to be pregnant? She and Harry had talked plenty about having kids; they had ditched the contraceptive spells months ago, hadn't they?

So what am I waiting for? Ginny hissed at herself, bemused.

The front door opened, and Ginny jumped. "Hi, Harry," she called to her husband. Her head whipped from the pregnancy test to the unopened groceries on the counter, and leaned casually with her back against the sink, blocking it, as Harry entered.

"Hey," she smiled easily. "How'd the performance reviews go?"
 #38640  by Harry Potter
"They gave me a raise," said Harry, returning her smile. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves one by one until both were neatly folded at his elbows. "It's a small pay increase, but you were right in telling me not to worry." The night prior, Harry thoroughly convinced himself that his performance review would go poorly despite successfully closing out the majority of cases assigned to him in his career as an Auror since joining the Ministry at the young age of seventeen. He feared that he’d never be able to achieve anything as significant as ending a war; not just once but twice!

How do you impress anyone after that?

To Harry’s surprise it was ridiculously easy. Most people, a few colleagues included, thought so highly of him for defeating Voldemort six years ago that something as minor as solving a missing person’s case seemed to impress them. Much to his relief he was treated like any other employee during his performance review, praised for being an important contributor to the successes of the department and lectured for poor time management. It was nice, thought Harry, to be recognized for something unrelated to his fame.

He pressed a loving kiss to his wife’s cheek and moved to help her put away the groceries. “I can choose which cases I want to take now,” said Harry cheerfully as he reached into the brown paper bag to pull out the bread and store it away in the cabinet above. “In exchange, they asked if I could help restructure the department.” The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was a mess and everyone knew it including the Minister of Magic himself. “Kinglsey wants me to meet with him once a month to discuss it. I said, yes.”

The groceries were always fresh, always cold, when Ginny brought them home. Harry could only assume she had been home for a while when he noticed that this time...they were not.

“Ginny,” said Harry calmly, “...The milk is warm....Why is the milk warm?”

He turned to look at his wife with a questioning gaze. She seemed to be rather rooted to her spot near the sink, as if she was hiding something.

Harry took a step forward, “What’s wrong?”