In another world, another life, another time, it might have turned out differently. That's her and James' favorite thing to think (wistfully, of course) – in another world, another life, another time, they wouldn't have to hide anymore, they could be a family, Harry could live a normal life, they wouldn't have to worry every single day about whether or not they'll live to see tomorrow.
"What if it's not a boy?" James tries to ask her, touching the swell of his wife's stomach.
"It's a boy," Lily answers, sharp and curt. "And we're naming him Harry. Don't even argue with me, Potter; just buy me a mango already."
"Okay, okay," James sighs, throwing up his hands in surrender. However, try as he might, whether it be Muggle grocery store or wizarding food store, Sirius' place or his parent's place, nowhere seems to have any mangoes in stock. Why, he thinks crabbily as he walks away from Remus' place holding a pear, his idea of a mango substitute, are pregnant women so difficult?
When he's home, Lily's crying. He doesn't say a word, drops the pear wordlessly, and gathers her up in his arms, ignoring the bump of her stomach.
"Shh," he murmurs, patting her hair. He's not brave, or particularly strong, and watching Lily cry just wrenches his heart in fifteen different directions. "Lily. Lily. What's wrong?"
Pressing her trembling hands to her face, Lily takes in a shuddering breath, wiping at her cheeks. "Silly of me," she whispers, voice shaking. "Silly, so silly. I should be used to it, shouldn't I, James?"
"What?" James asks, taking her hands away from her cheeks and looking at her firmly. "What happened, Lily?"
"I got a message," Lily replies, voice still shaking, through her hands are steadier in James'. "From the Order. Fabian and Gideon, they've been – they've been - " Without notice, her eyes fill up again, and she practically collapses against James, sobbing into his shoulder.
Letting out a long breath through his nose, James stares at the ceiling above Lily's thin shoulders, blinking back tears. When he speaks again, his throat is rough with emotion. "Lily," he says, "Lily. You never, inever/i, have to be used to this. Lily, it's okay. Lily. Lily. Shh." Rubbing circles on her back, he presses his face into her hair, whispering the same old story - in another world, Lily, in another time, another age, another life.