What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you? – The Script
They sat in a cold silence. He glared at his fettuccine; she shoved spoonful after spoonful of cheesy rice into Harry's mouth, who was blissfully unaware that the tension in the room was so thick it would have taken a ten foot chainsaw to hack through it. No, all was well in his blurry world; he was being fed and the two people he loved best were with him.
Unfortunately, their problems were more of the complex variety.
"Do we have any ketchup?"
She looked up. "Why in Merlin's name would you want any ketchup? It's pasta. No one has ketchup with pasta."
"Maybe I just feel like a change." He replied calmly.
"Maybe I just feel like a change." She mimicked. "Did you know in Japan it's considered incredibly rude to drench your food in condiments? You risk offending in that you're signalling to the chef that your food does not have enough flavour of its own."
"Well it's a good thing we aren't in Japan then." His voice betrayed just a hint of tightness.
"Did you ever stop to think that I might be hurt over the fact you didn't think my cooking flavoursome enough? That you're ignoring what your ketchup-dousing tendencies could possibly be doing to me? That you might not even be considering how I feel?"
"Are we even talking about your cooking any more?"
"Of course we are. Why would we not be talking about my cooking? It's not like I have much else to worry about day to day as a cooped up, isolated, ignorant housewife."
He sighed and ran long fingers through equally long messy hair frustratedly. She reflexively opened her mouth to tell him off, and then slammed it shut. She spooned food into Harry's mouth with renewed vigour and he gurgled cheerfully. It almost made her want to smile. Almost.
"Lily, we've been through this, you can't possibly be of any help to the Order with Harry to look after-"
"Oh, so I'm useless now, am I?"
"That's not what I meant and you know it." James tried to keep his voice even, but it was steadily growing more difficult to do so.
"I know perfectly well I can't go on missions now that I have Harry, but keeping me in the dark is just plain stupidity Potter!" She snapped. Old habits die hard. "How can you do this to me with everything going on? With Voldemort on the rise, with all the destruction he's causing, how can you just say to me, "Don't worry about it Lily, just stay at home and be safe?" You, of all people!"
"What else would you have me say?" He growled, his patience wearing ice thin. "Oh, never mind you have a son that's barely six months of age, by all means dance out into the street with a banner proclaiming your allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix; if you're lucky maybe the Death Eaters won't notice?"
"Stop twisting my words!" She shrieked, almost beyond words, the desperation clearly evident in her tone. "You know that's not what I meant! I just hate not knowing, whether he'll find us and knock our door down tomorrow and just kill us if he's feeling 'merciful'," here she used air quotes, "or whether he'll decide to drag it out and leave us like the Longbottoms! For the sake of my sanity, why will you not tell me what's going on? Why will you not let me come to the Order meetings?"
"Because I couldn't bear it if I lost you!" He roared; he had finally reached his breaking point. "You are the sole reason I drag myself out there to fight scum like him, you are the only reason why my life even makes sense any more and if keeping you in the dark is the only way to keep you and Harry alive then so be it, even if it does come at the cost of your sanity!"
She rose without a word, snatched Harry up and stalked out of the room. He slumped in his chair, defeated and buried his face into his hands.
Lily stormed upstairs and placed Harry in his cot, shushing him when he started to fuss. Her heart ached for normality, for the days when there was no threat of Voldemort, and the only things she ever had to worry about were passing exams and falling for James Potter. She snorted wryly. Well she had done both of those, and one of them had changed her life more drastically than if she had decided to join a nudist colony. Huh.
She dimmed the lights and stroked his hair, humming about sherbet lemons and what happened when you ate too many. Harry eventually drifted off, still clutching his mother's hand tightly and she had to prise off his tiny fingers one by one. Regret heavy on her mind, she crept back downstairs. James was talking avidly into a mirror, hair even more rumpled than ever, signs of despair and cheesy rice lingering on his face from when Harry spontaneously decided to throw some at him. Lily hesitated, and walked into the room, grumbling, "You know I hate it when you mess up your hair."
His answering smile was beatific, and Lily decided two things; all things considered, he looked dashing with baby food on his face. And if she could just have him smile like that more often, then the damned war might be a bit more bearable.