Author's Note: Just in time for the death anniversary! Sob. No worries, I've compensated with a happy, domestic Jily fic! I hope you enjoy. And Happy Halloween!

Balderdash

"You can have my sausages if you want." James said one inconsequential Monday morning. He had been spending majority of breakfast brooding, eyes trained on the Daily Prophet. He'd fisted the paper in his hands as an uneasy feeling pricked the back of his neck at the headlines. He'd been so absorbed. It wasn't until he began to flip the page that he noticed Lily eyeing his untouched meal with longing.

Lily brightened. "Really?"

"Go on." He smiled and pushed the plate towards her.

She took the plate. James watched as she picked up the cutlery—and his jaw dropped. In less than a minute his wife consumed all the sausages. All three of them. He didn't even see her chew. Glee filled Lily's face for a few seconds before it darkened to despair. Yearning returned on her face as she stared at the empty plate.

"I want more." She sighed sadly.

More? James closed his mouth. Lily had eaten six sausages in total. Half of that she consumed before he could even blink. What he just witnessed was a miracle—no other way to call it. The only person who could eat that fast was Sirius and James was certain his best mate wasn't human. "Erm…" he said when Lily looked at him. "I'm certain there's some left—"

"No." Another sad sigh. "Those were the last."

His stiff expression melted at her pout. "Right," he said, getting to his feet and folding the paper. "I've to stop by the Order for a bit—I'll grab some for you after, yeah?"

She brightened again. "Will you?"

"Of course."

"Oh, you're wonderful."

"I know." He sidled next to Lily and bent low to stifle her chuckles with a kiss. He laid his palm on her belly carefully, smiling as she placed her hand on top of his.

James placed a jar of pickles on the cart before moving on, head swivelling left and right for any items they might need. The domestic activity had emptied his mind of all thought. Well. Not all. He'd been idly berating himself for not writing up a shopping list. Now he was risking himself some serious stiff neck by turning his head like some defective bobblehead.

"Wait!"

He stopped just as he reached the end of the aisle. He looked over his shoulder and cold sweat broke all over his body when he saw Lily running towards him. "Don't run!" he gasped and her pace instantly slowed to a walk. He sighed, relieved. Then he noticed what Lily cradled in her arms. It was half a dozen jars of… "Pickles, love? I, erm, already got some."

"I know." She carefully unloaded the jars on the cart. Some of them were levitating—just enough to take the weight off, but still able to maintain the illusion. "They're not enough."

James' brows rose. "Making something, are you?"

Lily sighed, placing her hands on the gentle swell of her stomach as she straightened. "No, I'm eating all of them!"

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"I'm eating them!"

"Er… by themselves or…?"

"Oh," she waved her hand, "by themselves… or with cherries—oh, I could put some cream on them!"

"Cherries? Cream?" James whispered. The urge to gag rose in his throat, but he tried his best to suppress it.

"Loads of cherries—oh! I have to get some! Right, I'll go—you go on and I'll catch up." She rose on her toes, pecking him on the cheek before dashing off.

"Don't run!" he called after her, but still she dashed along the aisle. He tensed as she weaved through people and baskets and carts… and then she was gone, the tail of her dress disappearing around the corner. The tension remained with him, but a longsuffering smile tugged his lips and affection swelled in his chest. He moved on.

By the time Lily returned to him he had crossed through two aisles. She carried five bags of cherries in her hands. He watched her dump the fruit in the cart, the happy look on her face making him beam. Admittedly, the cravings were bizarre. But how could he focus on that when Lily looked so happy to eat whatever she wanted?

"That should do it," she sighed.

"Anything else you're craving for, wife?" he teased and tapped her nose.

"I think that's it—well, until something catches my fancy, I suppose."

"Right. Moving on, then."

Half an hour later. James was lining up at the check-out with Lily behind him. He ignored the curious stares he received—the cart only contained a small hill of various food items that caught Lily's fancy, for Godric's sake, not a bloody hippogriff. At least they didn't have to worry about running out of food for the next three weeks.

"Having a feast, are you?" the cashier asked, glancing at the cart with amusement when it was James' turn.

He grinned. "You can say that."

The thick veil of sleep lifted off James as melodious birdsong prompted him to wake. He sighed, squeezing his eyes before opening them. He squinted at the muted morning light and he had to blink a few times to get rid of the blur until only a faint fuzziness remained. He didn't pick up his glasses. Instead, he looked up and saw Lily already awake. She lounged against the headboard with one hand on her distended belly and another holding a book in front of her.

"Good morning," Lily murmured, smiling down at him.

"Morning," he replied, shuffling close to her and kissing her stomach. Then he sat up and kissed her cheek. "How long have you been up?"

"An hour?" Lily returned to the book, but began to toy with James' hair. She flattened the messy locks against his head one second and in the next, sifted her fingers through them, messing it up once more. James sagged and nuzzled his head against her palm.

The next few minutes were spent in silence—the simple moment made more special by the birds that continued to sing outside. Lily kept reading while James dozed off under her gentle ministrations. It wasn't until his stomach growled obscenely loud that he snapped out of his daze. Lily giggled and dropped her hand. James grinned unrepentantly. He kissed her cheek again before taking his glasses and getting off the bed.

"Breakfast?" he said as he grabbed his wand and then walked into the adjoining bathroom.

"Love some."

"What do you want?"

"A sandwich?"

"Yeah? What kind?"

"Ham?"

"Okay." After going to the loo and washing his hands, James moved on to the mouthwash. He picked up a small bottle from the cabinet, unscrewed the cap, and tapped the rim three times with his wand. The liquid fizzled in an instant and began to produce a refreshing spearmint scent. He knocked back a capful of the liquid and swished it around his mouth, wincing at the burning sensation hitting his cheeks.

"Tomato… lettuce…"

"Mhm." James nodded even though Lily couldn't see him.

"Bananas…"

What? James' eyes widened and he spat the mouthwash in the sink. He poked his head out of the doorway and gave Lily a confused look. "Pardon?"

"Bananas!" Lily repeated with a grin.

"Bananas?" he repeated, feeling very much like a dunce. "Bana—in the sandwich? Bananas in the sandwich?"

"Yes!"

"Right." He shook his head at her wide grin and went back inside the bathroom. He rinsed the sink before stepping out. "Anything else?"

"Cheese, gherkins, crisps, and some jammy dodgers—that ought to do the trick."

He smiled and planted his hands on his hips. "Just to be clear: you want ham, tomato, lettuce, bananas, cheese, gherkins, crisps, and jammy dodgers in the sandwich?"

"Yeah—oh, and if you could spread mustard and jam on the bread that would be fantastic."

Mustard and jam. Even his fifteen year old self couldn't come up with such a combination. "All right, then." He turned to the door to hide the amused grin he wouldn't dare suppress. "One disgusting sandwich coming right up."

He narrowly dodged the pillow Lily chucked at him, laughing as he jogged down the hall.

"Am I fat?"

"Uhm… no, my love, of course not," James mumbled. He sat on the floor, scrutinising the snitch between his fingers. It had been his project for the past five days. Over time he realised that instead of obsessing over the Daily Prophet, he ought to create something for the little tyke that's coming into the world within the next few weeks. It wouldn't zip in random directions like a normal snitch would; it'd simply float in the air with its wings flapping in a relaxed manner. He hoped the toy would be enough to give his child a bit of happiness in the dark times ahead.

"James, look at me."

The dejected tone in Lily's voice prompted him to look up.

"Am I fat?" Lily's brows rose and she made a wide, sweeping motion down her body.

James opened his mouth, about to give the same automatic response he gave seconds ago. But then he saw the anxiety on her face and promptly closed his mouth. He appraised her—sincerely, as he knew she wanted him to. She had gained weight. Of course she had. The curve of her cheeks and the line of her jaw had grown fuller. The same could be said for her arms, her waist, her legs. She was willowy before—lanky even. Now she was chubbier, more curvaceous.

But she was still beautiful. That had not changed. From her fiery hair to her dainty ankles, she remained the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.

"James?" Lily's voice was subdued.

"You are beautiful," he answered.

Silence fell between them. Suddenly, tears sprang from Lily's eyes. For one, wild moment panic seized him and he feared that he'd said something to offend her. However, before he could apologise Lily had rushed to his side and enveloped him in an embrace so tight that he was certain his heard his ribs crack. Nevertheless he wrapped her in his arms and slowly rubbed circles on her back. He didn't know why she was crying, but every sob that escaped her were like daggers to his chest.

"S-so s-stupid," Lily sniffled, voice muffled by his shirt. "T-there's a b-bloody war going o-on and a-all I'm worried about i-is looking f-fat!"

"Oh, my darling. It's not stupid," he murmured, combing his hand through her hair now. "It's not stupid at all."

Lily sniffled and nodded, pulling away slowly. He cupped her cheeks and wiped away the tears. "I-it's just t-that—" she hiccupped. "It's j-just t-that this morning I met old Bathilda during my walk, you know, and she was with someone—this old woman, Muriel."

"Yeah?"

Lily nodded. "So, Bathilda introduced us and then—and then out of nowhere the hag told me I was hefty for my size!" anger replaced the sadness in her eyes. The tears have stopped and the indignant blaze he loved came to life. She looked like she hadn't been crying at all—it's as though someone had flipped a switch on her emotions. "Then she had the absolute gall to say that I should stop using pregnancy as an excuse to overindulge or else you'll leave me because, and I quote, 'no husband ever wants a plump wife'! I mean, bloody hell can you believe the nerve of that bat?"

James opened his mouth, but promptly closed it. Did husbands really leave their wives for something as meaningless as weight? Why marry them at all, then? He couldn't even comprehend the concept of leaving Lily at all let alone leave her for any random reason. "Obviously that woman's never been married," he said slowly, "or dated anyone for that matter."

She chuckled and held onto his hands. "I'm sorry. It's just that… on top of everything I have to worry about you leaving and I just—I don't know. It got me really worried."

"Come off it," he scoffed. "I wouldn't drop you for any reason! Not even if you kill me. You're more likely to drop me, actually."

"Hmm… I suppose that's true."

James' jaw dropped and mocked an indignant expression as he pinched her nose. "Cheeky!"

Lily laughed, squealing as she attempted to squirm out of his arms. He grinned and let up, but kissed her whilst she still giggled. She returned the gesture. Seconds later they pulled away and held each other. The silence falling between them was light—comfortable; they were enclosed in their own world. James ran his hand along Lily's back and his heart swelled with so much affection he found it hard to breathe.

"James?" Lily whispered.

"Yes, my love?"

"I'm hungry."

James sniggered. He nodded and kissed Lily's neck before rising. "Another sandwich?" he said, beaming when she nodded at him. He helped her up and gave her one last kiss before making his way to the kitchen to make that sandwich.