Next chapter will be the last. Please don't abuse me, I made this chapter extra long in compensation :)

Condensation is one of life's most annoying things. Annoying because when you're trying to do life's impossible tasks like apply gel liner perfectly, pop a really stubborn pimple or scrutinize yourself completely in a mirror, it makes everything so much more irritating. It really does make you want to streak the bloody make up all down your face (because let's face it, symmetry is ruddy impossible with those things), make your face bleed in the name of 'popping at all costs' or let loose on the mirror itself, leading to very dire circumstances.

And because my face is currently two inches away from the mirror, staring into it, condensation is rising with my blood pressure.

(Which, currently, is rising at a bloody fast pace).

Swiping hurriedly at the annoying, misty stuff with my grey sweater, I study my face.

My mouth is hanging wide open, so far open someone could mistake me to be having dental surgery. My eyes are popping out of dark rimmed circles, shading in the atrocious night I'd had previously. My eyebrows are knotted so far together I wonder if it will be possible to undo them.

If I ever overcome the shock. God, I hope the wind doesn't change.

I'm standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring, absolutely horrified, because everyothergirlsdreamcometrue, otherwise known as Lily Evans' nightmare, is playing out before my very eyes.

Mon Dieu.

Usually I'd consider myself a loquacious person. If approached to discuss something remotely interesting (read: not quidditch), I would consider it a possibility I could talk your ear off before anyone could point a wand and yell sceptum-bloody-sempra.

As for today? Well I think a butterfly would be making more noise.

I was so committedly silent the healer shut me away in his office and attempted to treat me for shock. He was probably more shocked than I really, I mean, it's probably the first time he's delivered that news without coos and shrieks of excitement, or perhaps less excitingly, screams of doom.

I wish I could scream, because doom is coming home in under twelve minutes and will be expecting dinner which I most definitely have not cooked.

I suppose the non-existence of dinner probably won't help my façade of normalcy, so I'm going to have to rest on that flu excuse I've been using for the past few days. Unintentionally that is, I really did believe that I had the flu.

I wish I had the flu.

The strangest thing is, I really don't mind the baby part. I mean, surely it will keep Sirius Black away for a while (due to the natural aversion he has to any kind of responsibility) and it might get me out of work for winter if it gets to July.

That's a bit of an 'if' because unfortunately other people (or more specifically one other person), was obviously only slightly involved in this process and he cannot know. Clearly at some point he is going to find out, but I hope that perhaps I can pass myself off as Virgin Lily with miraculous conception because this mishap was definitely my fault.

I can't stand it being my fault. Really, it is the most novel concept for me. James is always wrong. Men, in general, are always wrong. Very, very convenient scapegoats for whatever kind of disaster has struck.

(The preceding phrases forming the bulk of Lily's guide to life).

And how the tables have turned.

James is home in approximately three minutes and I look the picture of normalcy. In reality, this could be roughly translated to a slightly smaller version of your average troll. My only hope is that it will be gruesome enough for him to avoid his eyes enough to not notice any sort of physiological change.

(Although the chances of James actually avoiding me are around the same as encountering an albino dementor).

There is a small, extremely hard bump, just where my usually flat(ish) stomach met my hip bones. Just a small raise, barely noticeable across the breadth of my tummy. It feels strange and cool under my fingertips as I run them back and forth over it, eyeing myself suspiciously in the mirror.

I would've enjoyed a few more minutes with this alien bodily change except the front door clicks open and I jump about forty feet in the air, quickly shoving my t-shirt down and my hands behind my back, like a child caught with their hand in some kind of sweet jar.

Noticing that the bathroom is actually at the opposite end of the house to the front door, I quickly wipe my hands on the hand towel and, biting my lip, shuffle non enthusiastically to meet my doom.

Doom is sitting on the kitchen table nonchalantly and opening mail by hand which would be extremely strange if I wasn't already conscious of the fact that he recently acquired a muggle letter opener and wants to show it off in the hope of looking extraordinarily pretentious.

'Lily' he sighs happily, catching sight of me over a sheet of paper and springing up to greet me.

Non-enthusiastically I grumble a hello and begin to shuffle towards the teapot. The mission is unsuccessful as he encloses his arms around my ribcage and pulls me into his chest, lips dropping to the top of my head.

'Lily dearest, you are always so lovely, but have you considered showering today?' he laughs, his trademark smirk spreading across his face.

Prat.

Completely unaware of my complete and utter hatred of his enthusiasm he skips back over to the table and picks up the letter, flashing the front of it to me over at the teapot, desperately trying to concentrate on the exact amount of tealeaves necessary to create the perfect English Breakfast.

'Your sister has big news apparently' he chirps, looking expectantly at me.

'Nyeh?' I mutter, non-committedly, taking a sip of the hot water and lemon juice I'd made, too impatient to wait for the sitting tea.

'Somehow she is pregnant! The Walrus must be so proud.'

I splutter incomprehensibly and hot water goes everywhere, scalding my hands and forearms. It burns like nothing else and I hop around on one foot for a couple of seconds yelling some choice expletives while James just laughs.

Double prat.

Once my pain dance has been completed I return to looking absolutely dumbstruck. This is fate at work, bloody, unavoidable fate.

The chances of my sister and I falling pregnant at the same time? A googolplex to one! Especially considering how, with Vernon, I didn't see that as anatomically possible…

My child is definitely going to be better looking.

James flips the page over and chuckles.

'Well, that was exciting. Imagine that Lily, responsible, career focussed Walrus with a child already? Bet you a thousand galleons it was a bit spur of the moment' he smirks suggestively.

My stomach flips violently. I feel like I could vomit all over the ugly linoleum kitchen floor.

'Hang on' I mutter, narrowing my eyes at James' hands, still clutching the letter, 'since when does Petunia ever write to you?'

'Almost as much as she writes to you' he chuckles, sending the broken envelope over my way.

'You know, it's a federal offence to steal someone's mail.'

'You know, I'm your husband.'

'I'll still get someone to lock you up for it, husband or not' I grumble, scrunching the envelope menacingly and throwing it at the bin.

'Oh please can it be you?' he pleads through wide eyes, winking suggestively after I scrunch my nose up in irritation.

'Speaking of you' he continues, 'what's for dinner?'

'Speaking of chauvinism, do it yourself' I mutter, straining the tea sloppily through the well-used strainer.

'Lily you know the reason we have this arrangement is only because you refuse to eat anything I make' he smiles patiently, 'something about salmonella ring a bell?'

I mumble incoherently.

'Just kidding Red' he murmurs, sideling up to me and enclosing my waist with his hands again, leaning into my back, his chest warm against it 'you look sick enough.'

'Always so complimentary'

'I really do try'

'Clearly'

He sighs. 'Look, I'll be right back with something. Pizza? Chinese? What's your choice?'

'Italian' I mumble, feeling slightly guilty about the whole thing, 'lots of it.'

'Hungry?' he laughs and quickly apparates out of the kitchen.

If only there was a conveniently placed cliff for me to fling myself off right now.

Only, there isn't and instead I must suffer the ultimate hell which is feeling guilty because everything really is your entire fault and yet, you're still being an incessant cow to the individual you have wronged.

To soothe this unusual feeling which has developed not only in my brain but seems to directly correspond to my stomach, I venture into the lounge and lay on the couch, spreading my legs across the cool leather.

In contrast to the horrid, brown linoleum in the kitchen, James really spared no expense on the upholstery. At first I thought the leather was unnecessary, but nothing could really feel any better, other than when it was blisteringly hot and your legs stuck to it and made embarrassing sweat patches on the seat.

Placing my hand on my stomach I resumed running my fingers over the bump, trying to commit every curve and groove to memory as it soothed me.

There, there baby. I'm sure things won't be that bad, unless of course you end up with red hair as well.

I wondered, subconsciously, who it would look like. I wondered even more what sex it was. A boy I hoped. Girls would just be too much of a handful, especially if they grew up to be anything like Petunia.

James returned as quickly as he left, and instead of the forty foot leap, there was only time for the quick shirt pull and the sheepish expression which his food centric brain failed to notice.

Lifting my legs up and over his like a boom gate, he settled back into the couch and opened the plastic containers of bolognaise, motioning for me to eat.

'Wine Lily?' he motioned, unscrewing the cap and setting two glasses on the coffee table with the food.

'Ah no, can't' I answered automatically, before biting down hard on my lip and hoping that he wouldn't notice the difference in attitude.

'Can't?'

Damn.

'The healer said it would be beneficial for me to refrain for a while' I covered, 'you know, so I can fully recover.'

So it wasn't a complete lie. In fact, I'd mainly told the truth. The healer had told me not to (once he had unsuccessfully treated me for shock, that is), and I suppose at some stage I was going to get 'better' however uncomfortable it was thinking about a baby as a disease.

(This was somewhat disconcerting).

'Of course' he mumbled through his pasta, 'what else did he say?'

'Just the usual stuff, more sleep, more clothes, less irritating distractions' I quipped, smirking back over at him.

'Ridiculous if you ask me,' he mirrored my expression perfectly.

We lapsed into comfortable silence for a while as we consumed the majority of the food lying on the table. Discarding the final plastic box he laid back and swung his legs around in the same direction as mine and scooted up the couch to lie behind me, tucking his head into the space between my jaw and my collarbone and fitting his body perfectly to the shape of mine.

He sighed contently and nuzzled his lips into my neck, trailing kisses down to my collarbone lazily.

'I love you so much' he murmured, eyelids fluttering closed in contentment.

'Mm' I sighed lethargically, closing my eyes and letting his body heat lull me.

'Where's the reciprocation?' he teased, gently nibbling on my earlobe.

'Mm, I love you too' I whispered.

'You know' he began, snaking his outside hand around my waist, 'I think we better move you up to bed missy.'

I stiffened a little as his hand edged closer towards the bump, and sat up abruptly when it lingered too close.

Normally I would have considered it irrational to be so upset over a physical change that small, but this was different and James, knowing where every freckle on my body lay, was too much of a risk regardless of how long I'd unknowingly had the bump for.

'Eager?' he teased, gently patting my leg and sitting up slowly, yawning.

'Just tired'

'Go on then, I'll be up after I throw these out' he motioned towards the plastic containers. 'And don't forget to brush your teeth!' he called, 'you'll ward off vampires within the next fifty miles with that breath.'

Reaching the bathroom I stuck the toothbrush in my mouth and sat on the covered toilet seat, tucking my legs up under me.

The coolness was refreshing but I couldn't quite get over the anxiety in the pit of my stomach which was flipping around like anything and making my head numb. Unintentionally, I reached for the bump.

Then, I had a thought. It really was not a very ground breaking thought, nor a very laborious one, but it came at me with the weight of a freight train.

The bump was not going to stay that small forever. In fact, as surely as the fact that my hair was a shade of red, it was going to grow. Grow really, really big in fact. So big, it would be hard to get through the tiny doors in the cottage, or make dinner, or lie comfortably on the couch, or even see the linoleum floor from over the top of it.

I was going to get fat. I was going to get possibly more unattractive than I currently was.

My eyes pricked and filled with fat, wet tears, which were strange, because I'd never really cared about such vain things before. It's the hormones; the stupid pregnant hormones.

And there it is. I'm pregnant.

Pregnant and unattractive. Pregnant and fat.

James was going to hate me.

Before I'd even registered both these notions I was spurting salty tears in every direction, feeling rather like a water fountain and probably looking more like a baby than the one in my stomach.

James of course, chose to stroll into the bathroom and blinked nervously at the tear spurting mess that was sitting on an unopened toilet seat with a toothbrush sticking precariously out of its mouth.

'Lily?' he asked, gently and curiously, shuffling around to me in preparation for some kind of strike that he probably thought was coming his way.

And he thought it was his fault.

'You know I was joking about the garlic breath' he soothed, lifting the toothbrush from my mouth and setting it on the bathroom sink, rubbing my back with his other hand.

'It's not…about…that' I somehow managed to sniffle, hurriedly wiping away tears with my jumper sleeve.

'Oh' he murmurs, picking me up gently in his arms and carrying me out to the bedroom and laying me on the bed.

'What's up then?' he continues, pulling me up to sit with him on the pillows, resting my head on his chest and threading his fingers into my hair.

I suppose he thought bringing me closer to him was going to make me calm down, when in reality it only made me feel more guilty and vulnerable. Fresh tears sprung up to my eyes and trickled down my face, accompanied by loud sniffles and harsh intake of breath.

'Well it's…it's just that…' I trailed off into loud sobs as he again, brought me closer and pressed his lips to my forehead.

'It's okay Lily, whatever it is, I'm sure we can fix it' he whispers into my hair.

'I don't want to fix it James'

'Why? If it's making you upset I'll make it go away'

'It's…well it's not'

'What can I do then?' he answered, confusion lacing his tone.

'Nothing, I mean…well, it's all my fault James and I really didn't mean for it to happen, and I know you're going to hate me and it's all going to end up really badly and I swear I didn't plan it or want to trick you or anything but It's just, I've become so attached and I don't want to change anything because I kind of like it but I know you're going to hate it and-'

'Lily, Lily, Lily' he shook his head, lifting my chin up to face his, 'I don't understand.'

'It's obvious isn't it?' I screeched, rather hysterical at this point.

'No…' he trailed off, eyebrows furrowing.

'Yes, yes it is!'

'Lily, what-'

'I'm so moody all the time, and I have the flu and have to stay in bed all day and I eat a lot and I get really bad flushes of hot and cold and-'

'Because you're sick?' he questions slowly, running a hand through his hair nervously.

'No James!'

'Well then I don't understand because, well I'm not-'

And that's when I realise that men, especially James, are quite stupid when it comes to explaining things with words, and I should probably take matters into my own hands in order for him to understand. Very literally.

Clasping his hand in mine deliberately I travel them under the sheets, stopping his meaningless monologue and resting directly over the bump. I'm not one hundred percent sure this is going to work, because James has probably accidently brushed his hand over it before and not noticed, just as I have, but I don't think I could say the 'p' work without bursting out into hysterics again.

His eyebrows stay knotted, confused for another minute as he runs his hand over the raised skin, slowly and gently, tickling it and covering it in goosebumps. When he gets to my hip bone however, and feels the indent into my normal belly height, his hand stops. His eyes widen and his lips form a little 'o' shape, eyebrows just about shooting up into his hair.

Finally.

'Oh' he whispers, running his hands back over the bump to the other hipbone. 'Lily' he breathes, staring wide eyed at me, voice begging for some kind of explanation.

'I'm sorry' I squeak, averting my eyes quickly, retracting my hand from his.

'Lily' he says again, and I swear I can just see his brain whirring, trying to comprehend everything that's just occurred.

A wave of guilt washes over me again, feeling hot and shameful.

'Oh Lily' he groans, shooting his body down the bed and stopping when our heads are at the same height, facing each other. He crashes his lips into mine roughly and hastily, like he needs to let out his frustration somewhere, then remembers that my face is actually breakable and softens them, moulding them perfectly to mine and tenderly placing small kisses in the corners of my lips.

I can't quite believe that he's opted for a snogging session considering that my face is horrendous and my lips are probably laden with salty tears and maybe even some snot, but I'm more than happy to oblige.

'Why didn't you tell me before?' he asks weakly, moving his lips against mine.

'I thought you'd be angry' I whispered, averting my eyes again.

'Excuse me Lily but I think you have suffered serious role reversal' he quips, chuckling lightly, moving his lips to my cheekbones.

'Are you angry?'

'Of course not' he stiffens, moving his face back to stare at mine intently, 'I could never be angry about something like this' he says seriously. 'I was just a bit shocked, that's all, I promise' he nods, as if to consolidate his point.

I think I've entered into the third state of shock I've been in today. James Potter is being deadly serious. Probably for the first time in his short life.

'Besides' he continues, his wide eyes slowly dissolving into something akin to an expression which might belong on an excited puppy, 'I've always wanted someone young and impressionable to corrupt. You will allow me to keep it won't you Lily?' he pleads, and moves his head down the bed to rest over the bump, kissing it lightly and giving it a soft poke.

'Don't worry, I'm an incredible role model' he tells it, before flashing me a smirk.

Triple Prat.

'You know, babies involve a little more work than just lessons in how to maraud'

'Don't fret Lily, I've managed to keep Sirius alive for this long, how hard can one of these be?'

'Considering Sirius has the maturity of a five year old, it probably won't be that much of a shock' I mutter lowly, shoving him in the shoulder.

'Lily! If you want me to be an attentive father you're going to have to stop manhandling me'

'Because you're so manly'

'Manly enough evidently' he smirks, poking me in the ribs. 'Speaking of Sirius, I'll be right back'

'Can any of your significant life events not involve Sirius?'

'Hush Lily, you will never understand the ways of the elusive marauder' he jokes, but then leans over to kiss my forehead.

'I won't wait up for you' I huff, pulling the duvet over my body and then mutter softly to the bump 'look, he's abandoning you already.'

James flashes me an injured look.

'Oh go on,the faster you get to Sirius, the faster I can get you away' I smirk, 'and in the meantime, I'll get Remus over here, I'm sure he'll make an excellent replacement father.'

He narrows his eyes but then lets out a bark of laughter.

'You know, I was thinking of asking Sirius to be the godfather' he jokes, but I know somewhere he's half serious.

'I'll divorce you for the good of the child' I warn.

'Too bad, the baby's going to have to have two fathers then'

'James, don't you even think-'

Before I can finish the sentence he's gone, the air twirling around where he once stood, the duvet and sheets gradually fluttering back to the bed from the flurry of movement.

Poor child; it's already been doomed to a lifetime of trouble.