Summary: James/Lily and why they'd ever consider a child in a time of war
A/N: Blame hydriotaphia for the fic bunnies herein. But it's nice to be writing a bit, even if it's not what I intended (Moonlight) or should get after (coursework)
Lily Potter knew they were too young, far too young and maybe a bit too foolish, to think that a child would be a good idea in a time of war. Lily understood better than most people. She spent nights with her wand drawn. She'd felt the burn of a crucio curse as she ran into the night. She'd heard friends fall behind her and been unable to save them. She read the lists every morning, watching more Muggle-born names appear.
She'd lain beneath James at night, gasping and digging her fingers into the smooth flesh of his back as he moved in a fine rhythm of thrusts and she gulped for air, biting back the screams. Again and again, until they both passed out from exhaustion. She was perpetually hungry for him.
Every time dawn came and James wasn't beside her, the hunger grew. And so the thought had crept in, a niggling idea of someone else to hold. A face she could search for familiar angles, a light in this dark place.
One night, so late it was nearly morning, they'd finally made it home, singed and aching. They had no words, the screams still ringing in their ears. Lily had moved past James as he splashed water on his face, as though it might wash the night away. He watched her open the medicine cabinet, then pop each small pill from its container into the toilet. James had seen her flush.
And taken her there on the cold tile floor, then on the bed. Again. And again.
It took longer than she'd thought. Lily's Muggle mother had drilled into her daughter the dangers of boys and babies, not knowing the things her daughter would learn to fear. James learned a spell and whispered it over her stomach every morning, hoping.
Until one day hope became life. Lily would do it all again if only for James' smile, his laugh, his mouth on hers triumphant. With every sideways glance and whisper, the are-you-sure dinner with Sirius, the shopkeeps with potions in the back, she remembered that moment. As her bump became a bulge, she remembered. Maybe her red hair and his hazel eyes. His nose on her face. If the child was very, very unlucky, her father's nose.
Eventually James left their home alone and she waited, trying to pretend the nausea was all pregnancy, practicing spells and boiling potions. In the wee hours, she would feel James' hands winding around her, following her curves an brushing fingertips over her stomach, feeling the tiny movements thrumming beneath her skin.
He was gone when the pain began early one morning, slashing at her stomach. The contractions alternated with stabs of worry as she tried to reach Sirius, Remus, Peter. Her owl returned with her own message every time and Lily paced back and raged and hurt. She gripped her wand hard, nearly breaking it in her grasp. It wasn't as bad as the crucio, she told herself. Not quite that bad, she gasped as she watched the clock. She begged the door to open and James to come through, so she could squeeze his hand and threaten to cast outrageous spells and scream for once about the unfairness of pain. But he did not come.
Finally she could wait no longer and sent an owl to their midwife, who apparated just a few minutes later, chastising Lily for waiting so long. Everything seemed to rush forward as Lily found herself sinking onto a mattress and gratefully gulping a proffered potion. The pain seemed distant as she found herself pulled along, one thing after another. Breathing, bracing, pushing, crying. Hers, then the child's, her son. Their son.
A wonder of dark hair, smooth skin and clear eyes, already reminding her of James. She held him close, letting her heart swell for the first time since this bloody war had started.
Lily heard the tell-tale pop of someone apparating and saw James, he and Remus holding a battered Sirius between them. He cried out, nearly dropping his friend as he dove for his wife.
"I'm so sorry, so sorry. I've missed it," James murmured, kneeling next to Lily and running his fingers over his son's cheek, letting a tiny hand wrap around his finger. Lily saw tears stream down James' face for the first time since the war had begun.
"Shhh. It's just one moment, one time," Lily shifted as she handed James his son, her eyes bright and hopeful. "There are so many more to come."