Just some random fluff/crack that came upon me in the wee hours of the morning, enjoy!

Harry Potter does not Belong to me, it belongs to JK Rowling of course.

Bill paced in front of the fire, gently adjusting the moping bundle against his shoulder, patiently shushing her as she whimpered. He sighed a bit as her tiny hand reached up to grasp his hair, but dealt with the soft tugging as he had when Ron had done the same thing. Ginny, his beautiful, darling little sister, loved his hair. He'd congratulated his mother on finally giving him a little sister to spoil, but complained that he only had one year to really commit to the effort. Next year, he jiggled Ginny a bit as she hiccupped, next year he'd be at Hogwarts. He'd be gone for most of the year, and he wouldn't be able to get to her before she cried.

He often wondered what it was, exactly, that made him wake up before a cry sounded. It had been that way with each of his siblings. With Charlie, their mother often found Bill in Charlie's crib in the morning, With Percy… well, Bill would distract him by cuddling him against his chest and rocking in the chair by the window. Percy liked the moon and often grabbed up for it. Then came the twins. At first their mother had put them in separate cribs, but Bill had been waking up every night, and putting them in the same one often before climbing in and curling around them both before falling back asleep himself. Ron never went back to sleep until Bill sang a song. For all that he knew the songs, he couldn't really sing very well (Charlie had a wonderful voice), but Ron liked it. Ron also liked to grab his hair, which seemed to calm Ginny down as well.

But Ginny was different from her brothers in that she liked different things. Some nights Bill would croon a song, others she wouldn't rest until he sat in the rocking chair with her. Every once in a while she just wanted to be held, and one time Bill fell asleep sitting up in his bed with his arms still around her, her head nestled against his chest as she listened to his heartbeat.

This night though, it seemed nothing was working. He'd crooned lullabys, he'd rocked her in the chair, he'd even tried warm milk but she refused to drink it. She wasn't really crying, but she wasn't calm either. He sighed again and shook his head when she giggled. She knew what came next, and she wasn't going down until he gave it to her.

"You know I can't… mum'll kill me if she knew!" he jiggled her again and she whined a bit, somehow knowing that he was right on the cusp.

"Ginny, you can't be getting me into trouble this early in our relationship! Even the twins waited until they were toddling around on two feet before getting me into trouble!" he sneaked toward the stairs and peeked up into the darkness with judging eyes… they weren't up, of course they weren't… he wouldn't get caught.

He looked down into Ginnys hopeful eyes and shook his head.

"This is why mum didn't have more girls, you know, not even a year old and you can wrap me around your teeny tiny little finger," he turned around and headed for the family room. Once more he settled into a pace next to the fire. He took a few deep breaths and began to softly sing.

"Oh the night that Paddy Murphy died, is a night I'll never forget / Some of the boys got loaded drunk, and they ain't been sober yet. As long as a bottle was passed around every man was feelin' gay / Then O'Leary came with the bagpipes, some music for to play.

And that's how they showed their respect for Paddy Murphy / That's how they showed their honor and their pride / They said it was a sin and shame as they winked at one another / And every drink in the place was full, the night Pat Murphy died.

As Mrs. Murphy sat in the corner, pourin' out her grief / Kelly and his gang, came a'tearin down the street / They went into an empty room and a bottle of whiskey stole / Put that bottle with the corpse to keep that whiskey cold!

And that's how they showed their respect for Paddy Murphy / That's how they showed their honor and their pride / They said it was a sin and shame as they winked at one another / And every drink in the place was full, the night Pat Murphy died."

"Bill!" Molly Weasley was standing in the hall, her eyes wide, but her tone hushed as she tried not to wake her other children. Bill shushed her as Ginny whimpered, almost asleep but not quite.

"At two o'clock in the morning, after emptyin' the jug / Dur rolls up the ice bucket to see ol' Patty's mug / We stopped the clock so Mrs. Murphy couldn't tell the time / And at a quarter after two, Sure we argued it was nine!

And that's how they showed their respect for Paddy Murphy / That's how they showed their honor and their pride / They said it was a sin and shame as they winked at one another / Every drink in the place was full, the night Pat Murphy died.

They stopped the Hearse on George Street at the old Red Door Saloon / All went in at half past ten and staggered out at noon / Went up to the graveyard, all holy and sublime / Found out when they got there, they'd left the corpse behind!"

As Bill looked down at his sister he was relieved that she was finally passed out, drooling on his shoulder. But he blushed furiously as he passed his mother on the way to put Ginny down. As he tucked her in, under a frilly pink blanket that clashed horribly with her already flaming red hair, he hissed under his breath.

"See, you got me in trouble already. Ron waited until he could actually pick things up and throw them before he got me in trouble. You are a prodigy little one. Not even two months old yet are you?"

He wondered how many dishes he would have to wash for teaching his newborn baby sister an Irish drinking song that he wasn't even supposed to know.

As he got back downstairs the sun was starting to peak over the hills and shine into the family room, which explained how his mother had heard him. She routinely got up before the sun, Bill figured it was her "quiet time", and he cursed himself for not paying attention to the clock. But the thoughts went out of his head as he turned the corner into the room and found his mother huddled on the couch, hunched into herself and shaking.

"Mum! Oh, mum I'm sorry!" he rushed forward to hug her, "Don't cry! I promise I won't ever…" he trailed off as his mother snorted. "Mum?"

He backed off a ways and realized that his mother was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe.

"Mum?"

"Oh! Oh, Bill!" She gasped as her hand shot out to grasp his shoulder, "Oh! I haven't heard that one," she gasped, "Since your father!"

"Since dad?"

"Since your father got… so roaring drunk in Lucky's Pub!" She brought her son into a fierce hug, and chuckled against his neck.

"Dad?" Bill snorted, his father?

Molly gathered herself enough to hold her sons shoulders out at arm length, "But you're still grounded."

Bill sighed, "Right."

The Night Paddy Murphy Died, my favorite version is by Copper Sky.

Hope you enjoyed!