Needy
Lily sat up with a start in her and James' bed. "It was only a bad dream. It was only a bad dream," she kept muttering to herself. Because after all, she didn't know if she could survive if her dream became a reality. It had already happened once. She had already lost an unborn child. She couldn't loose anther.
She looked to her right, to see James' empty side of the unmade bed. He had to go to work early she remembered sadly. Although, how he had managed to get up and get dressed without waking her up, was beyond her wildest expectations. Her husband- alongside their best friend, Sirius- was one of the loudest people she knew. And it was nearly impossible to stay asleep if he had to get up before her, in the morning, which unfortunately, happened more often than she would like. However, today was different. She needed him after that wretched dream and wanted nothing more than his loving arms around her, telling her that it was all right. She was three months pregnant, and her hormones were causing her emotions to be all over the place. And currently, she felt needy.
She slowly got up, off of the bed and slipped her fuzzy white slippers and pink robe on. It was a cold October morning and she immediately wanted to go downstairs and get a fire going. As she walked down the deep mahogany staircase, she felt a slight increase in heat. James already started the fire before he left she grinned, feeling slightly better. Her James was so thoughtful. She walked into their small kitchen, feeling everything but hungry, but knew that she had to eat something, if only for the baby. After opening the fridge and deciding that there was nothing to eat that seemed in the least bit appetizing, she closed the door and grabbed two pieces of bread from the breadbox, and made her way to the toaster. Lily liked to cook the muggle way, which James thought was inane and a waste of time, but she enjoyed the process. Thus, they had muggle appliances such as a toaster and a microwave.
Five minutes later, her toast was buttered and she was sitting at the kitchen table, force-feeding herself small bits. She felt absolutely wretched this morning, and she could already see herself throwing up the toast in the next hour. But she had to at least try. She considered sending in owl to Sirius, asking him to come by and cheer her up. She knew that it was his day off. But Sirius would then report back to James, and she didn't want him to worry about her all day.
Therefore, she continued on with her daily routine. She walked over to her desk and pulled out her notes on the most recent muggle oil spill and a piece of clean parchment. She worked for The Daily Prophet, and headed the entire muggle column by herself with only two assistants. Which meant that she had to write at least two articles a day. It was a hard job, seeing as she had to figure out two the most important things going on in the muggle world, and write about it. Usually, she spent half of her day narrowing it down from a list of different problems that muggles faced. Today, she was writing about the muggle energy crisis.
Two sentences into the article; she dropped her quill and got up to use the bathroom. She could already feel that this baby was going to be a baby that liked to push on her bladder consistently, making her have to use the toilet consistently. She sighed as she walked up the stairs to her personal bathroom. She had refused to share a bathroom with James, when they had bought their new flat. If there were two bathrooms, why would she even want to share one with a man as messy as her husband? She couldn't deal with messy. And James has yet to learn how to put the toilet seat down.
Walked up the stairs wasn't as easy as it should have been. She was exhausted and had a terrible headache- that was for certain. But something felt weird inside of her stomach. It felt like a horrible twisting was taking it over. It would have felt like the slight twist of nausea, which she was all too familiar with, but it was stronger. More insistent. But she ignored it. What could she do, go to St. Mungo's and tell the Healer that her stomach felt weird? They wouldn't laugh in my face because I'm pregnant, she thought, but they would sure laugh about it to themselves.
By the time that she reached the top stair, the horrible twisting had faded away, leaving an odd hollow feeling. She walked into her bathroom and took off her robe, throwing it across the counter, and pulled down her pajama bottoms and underwear. She then bent down to sit on the toilet, when a sudden stretching movement tore through her stomach. She gasped, and then screamed as the stretching turned into a tearing. Her legs buckled and she fell face first to the floor. Her head hitting the marble toilet on her way down—rendering her immediately unconscious. Her last waking thought being if her nightmare was actually starting to taking place.