"God, Sirius, what are they doing?"
"Relax, love, they're fine!" he answered for the millionth time. I had managed thus far to avoid seeing James on a broom, and preferred to be in the dark about what flying entailed. Which included going so high that I could no longer see either one of them, it appeared.
"Make them come down!" I said with gritted teeth. "I'm going to go into premature labor if they don't stop," I added ominously. Sirius only grinned at me, ignoring my empty threat.
"You'll get used to it, babe," he said soothingly. We were sprawled, or at least I was, on a carpet of dandelions in a meadow that looked straight out of The Sound of Music. The Monch, Eiger and Jungfrau loomed in the background, and I couldn't stop snapping pictures of the scenery. Sirius was laying on his stomach, alternating between scribbling in a notebook and watching the boys flying their brooms, though much less concerned about their welfare than I was. Instead, he was writing, in his flowing script, prospective names for the new addition due sometime in October. He had come up with several boy names, but only one girl name was in that particular column: Livia.
"I wish we could use Sirius again; I love the name," I commented, trying not to look at James and Harry cavorting in the air with other wizard their ages vacationing in the same place, namely Winteralpen, in the Swiss Alps.
"Ah, well, it would be rather confusing, anyway," Sirius said, though he smiled indulgently at me. "It'd be nice to use a Potter name in there somewhere, though."
"Well, it's your call," I said. "Since I named the last one."
He looked at me, blissful and completely carefree, then rolled over on his back and looked up at the sky.
"Merlin, this feels so good!" he exclaimed. "I'm so glad to be away from England and all the ... attention." He looked at me intently, and I couldn't help but smile at him.
"Laura-" he began in a sly tone, "is it, um, usual to want it so much during pregnancy?"
"What? Have I come on to you at all today? I think not. "
"Well," he said, miming an exhausted look, "last night, more specifically. You were very insistent, in fact, that I let you have your way with me." He looked up at me euphorically. "In fact, this is shaping to be the one of the most wonderful holidays we've ever taken, in that regard."
I thought back to our early years. "I dunno. We were all over each other years ago, as well. Our first time, for example, was very, hmmm, prolific, don't you think? I recall, what, three times that night, I believe?"
"Well, that's true," he conceded. Then, more serious, he added softly, "I can't get enough of you."
"Good," I replied, smirking. "Better stay that way, too."
He sat up and gave me a lingering kiss. The travel book hadn't been wrong; Winteralpen and the surrounding areas were so quiet, the only sounds were the clang of cowbells and distant waterfalls across the valley. The jubilant din of the kids flying above us were the sole noises otherwise. It was heaven. Heaven with the predominant scent of cow dung.
"I love you, Sirius," I said, kissing him once more. "You make me so incredibly happy."
He moved closer to me. "I love you, Laura. Likewise."
"I'd like to have you inside me right now," I added softly.
"Wanting more?" he asked, shooting me a wicked grin. I nodded emphatically. "Well, just as soon as they - " he gestured up at the sky, " - go to bed tonight, I'll take you up on it."
Harry and James flew and practiced Quidditch moves for quite a while longer, leaving me and Sirius to ourselves. Sirius had added a few more names on his list as possibilities. Evan, from Lily's maiden name, John, for Remus, and Brian, which was my idea and one of Dumbledore's many names, I'd discovered somewhere along the way. And of course the ever present Livia, even though Sirius had dismissed the idea of having a girl by now. I yawned and sat up tall to stretch.
"Want to lay your head down?" Sirius asked me.
"Mmmm. Yeah." He sat up as I laid down, my head in his lap. I looked skyward, still watching the kids flying around. Reluctantly I admitted to myself that Harry was probably a great help in improving James' skills on a broom, and might increase his odds in making a spot on the Quidditch team.
"When is this World Cup?" I asked Sirius.
"Last week of August," he replied, stroking my hair. "We'll only be gone a few days, though. I hate to leave you," he added.
I plucked a piece of clover and chewed on it. "I'll be alright ... and you'll have a good time. So don't worry."
He put a hand on my belly. "Ready to move on to Italy tomorrow?"
"Oh yeah. I could probably live there." I smiled at the memory of my last trip to the Cinque Terre, and was reminded of all my one-sided correspondence in the years Sirius was gone. "Writing you letters about what James and I were doing kept me sane, ironic as that may sound." I was thinking back to the notes I would write randomly and throw in mailboxes wherever I happened to be. "I saw a therapist for a while after you were gone. Then I realized that writing to you was turning out to be much more effective, and practically free, unlike the therapist. So I ditched him."
"What exactly is a therapist?" Sirius asked. "Like a muggle doctor?"
"Yeah, only they specialize in, uh, mental health, I suppose you'd say. I was strongly, uh, encouraged to see one after I was released from that place. I did for a while, but by then I realized I couldn't talk about wizards without being thought a total nutter, which rather defeated the point of why I was upset. I didn't bother for too long after that."
"We will not be separated ever again, I promise," he said, holding my hand and squeezing it fiercely. We sat, looking out over the valley for several more minutes, until James and Harry finally descended, along with a few other kids. They were all sweaty and smiling from the exertion. The others drifted off, leaving only our two.
"Mum! When is dinner?" James threw himself down on the ground and nudged his shoes off.
"Whenever you get ready, I suppose," I answered. He looked curiously at me with my head in Sirius' lap, and I felt immediately self conscious. I heaved myself up into a sitting position. "Back to the usual place for dinner? That okay with you, Harry?"
I got the impression that anything would be alright with Harry, who seemed not to have a care in the world. We must be like a dream come true compared to what he was used to while away from Hogwarts. "Oh, yeah!" he assured me, and I smiled at him. Out of nowhere, tears came to my eyes at seeing such a sweet mixture of James and Lily in his face. Stupid pregnancy hormones, I thought disgustedly. I looked away before anyone saw me.
Sirius stood and helped me up. "Let's go clean up first," he said cheerfully, "then we'll get something to eat."
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
That evening, Sirius and Harry sat outside for a while, talking. James and I stayed in, packing our things to leave for Italy the next day.
"Are you sure you'd rather celebrate your birthday in Italy?" I asked him. "The Museum of Quidditch sounds like it would be right up your alley."
He shrugged. "Nah. Maybe next year. Something with just you and Dad ... and Harry ... would be as good. Harry might want to do something there, though."
I noticed how he had hesitated before mentioning Harry, and thought this would be a good time to bring up some things.
"James, how are you adjusting with your dad? Everything okay there?"
He continued to stuff some clothes in a bag. "Yeah, fine. He's a cool bloke."
Sometimes I wished James would be a bit more wordy. Getting information out of him was sometimes very frustrating, and this was one of those times.
"How about Harry? The two of you getting along?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
I continued. "I mean, I hope you're okay with him coming with us. It's just that ... well, he's apparently never done any fun family stuff. Other than the odd thing with his friends once in a blue moon. I guess I just worry that it might all be a bit much for you, just beginning a relationship with Si - your dad. So, you know, if it is, talk to one of us, alright?"
"I'm fine, Mum," he said exasperatedly, looking up at me.
"Good!" I answered, giving up on mother-son bonding. "Ready for some gelato?"
"Oh, yeah," he answered.
"One more thing, James," I said.
"What?"
"You haven't said much about the baby. Not that you have to or anything. I just, well, I want you to know I love you very much. So does your dad. The baby won't change that, ever." I walked over to him and planted a kiss on his head. "You're still my baby," I whispered, grinning at him. He rolled his eyes and pretended to wipe the kiss off. "And you're just rubbing it in when you do that," I reminded him, smirking at the movement. It was an old joke.
"Love you too, Mum," he said absently as he finished cramming the last of his wrinkled clothes into the bag.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
A few days later I stood on the tiny balcony of a house we were renting in Vernazza. The weather was unrelentingly hot and we had no air conditioning whatsoever. The guys didn't seem to mind, but with my constant surge in progesterone, I stayed warmer all the time, no matter what the weather. This heat wasn't helping me at all. So I spent much of my time out of doors where there was usually a breeze off the ocean. Just now, though, I looked down at the peaceful scene below me. Winding carugi down below in back of the house we rented and a few lemon trees in the tiny courtyard were part of the aura of this place that made me feel I could live here forever, if learning to speak Italian weren't such a headache. I had no gift for languages, other than saying "La dolce far niente," which was a common phrase around here. The sweetness of doing nothing. Fortunately Sirius picked up on some key words and sentences with ease, and if he didn't know how to communicate something, flirting with the elderly female shopkeepers bridged the gap, so to speak. Some of the little old ladies who waited on us beamed at him whenever he spoke broken Italian, and would correct him patiently.
I managed to walk the trails a little bit, though I had no desire to do anything too strenuous. The Manarola to Corniglia footpath was fairly easy and level, though to our horror, some unfortunate woman had fallen off while we were there and died. They closed it temporarily after that. Which left the Via dell Amore, between Riomaggiore and Manarola, as the one other trail I felt like attempting. Most of it was through a tunnel and coated in graffiti and random artwork. Sirius and I had left the boys to their own devices one evening and set off on this little walk, bound for a tiny restaurant in Manarola that had been recommended by a villager.
"Now, we're stocking up on wine," I warned Sirius. "I plan on having plenty of this stuff after the baby's born."
"Done. I've already sent some back."
"Well, send back more," I said, grinning sideways at him. "I can't get enough of Cinque Terre wine."
We stopped to look out over the ocean. The sun was setting and the golden light reflected off my husband's face as he watched the sea, making him glow.
"You look positively radioactive," I said, snickering. "Let me take a picture."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised you haven't tried to catch me in the loo to take one, the way you snap the piccies." But he posed obligingly for me. "Your turn," he said firmly.
I reluctantly moved to the same spot and stood with my usual expression. "Oh, smile, darling. Lighten up!" he admonished.
"You'll have to make me laugh to get a good one. Otherwise they look ridiculous," I said through gritted teeth in my attempt at a smile.
"Alright." He sighed. "A wizard, a hag and a troll walk into a bar ..."
"Oh, never mind. That joke is so not funny."
"You've never heard the x-rated version, have you?" he responded, snapping the picture just as I rolled my eyes.
Now I laughed. "No! Take it again, quick!"
He did as I asked, then lowered the camera. "Ready to go now?" Just then a couple holding hands walked by, and stopped in front of us.
"Would you like me to take one of both of you?" the woman asked in an American accent.
"Oh, please do! Thanks," I said. Sirius and I assumed the pose again after he handed her the camera. He put his arm around me.
"Just push halfway down," I instructed, "until it focuses. Then all the way."
The woman's husband made a goofy face, causing us to smile as his wife took the picture. "There!" she said, handing it back to us.
"Thanks so much," I said again.
"Are you from England?" she asked.
"I am," Sirius responded. "Though my wife is American."
She appeared interested. "I wouldn't have known. You have an English accent."
"Oh, well, I've lived there for years," I said.
"Where are you from originally?" the husband asked me.
"Eastern Tennessee," I answered, not getting into specifics. Nobody had ever heard of my hometown, so I never bothered sharing it.
"Oh! Knoxville? Chattanooga?" the woman asked.
"No, but fairly close. I was a Vol at one time, though I never went to school there." I smiled as I thought of the university there and its rabid fans in orange and white. "How about you?"
"Northern Virginia. Close to D.C." the husband replied.
"Oh, nice place to live, I'm sure."
"Yeah, it's ridiculously expensive, but we love it." The woman chuckled with as she said it. "Well, we'll be going. Nice to meet you all!"
"Thanks," Sirius called after them. The man waved back at us as they walked off.
We walked in the opposite direction, toward Manarola and the restaurant.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
By the end of our time in Italy, nobody really wanted to go back home. We had made a nice little birthday celebration for James, after taking a day trip to Doria, the wizarding town close by. It was very touristy and prices were high, but we didn't mind splurging. Especially me, since I found most wizarding objects intriguing anyway. Seeing souvenirs and artifacts with an Italian bent made them all the more interesting. I bought several nice things for the house, while Sirius picked out a good broom upgrade for James, who was mightily impressed. The latest Italian model, called a Veloce something-or-other, was rivaled only by Harry's previous Christmas gift from his godfather, and was guaranteed to make a positive impression during Quidditch tryouts. James thanked him profusely, though Sirius reminded him kindly that it was from both of us. Harry bought James some top-of-the-line gloves, then looked around for things to take home to his friends as souvenirs. When we were done, we had a rather large pile of things to send back ahead of us. Looking at it all, I was thankful to have such an experienced wizard as Sirius in the household, who didn't mind taking care of those kinds of chores.
Left only with a few daybags to carry, we traipsed to the local train station, bound for Pisa. After spending a few hours there, we would go to the airport and fly back to London. Pisa was interesting, and a nice city. Graffiti was everywhere, though, I noticed. We walked to the Leaning Tower and wandered around it. Sirius smugly maintained that any good group of wizards could fix its problem, and laughed when he read some of the Muggle attempts to right the tower over the years. After spending some time in that area, we had lunch and headed for the airport, and then finally home.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
That night, I lay in my husband's arms after making love. I remembered my trip to Italy some years back with James and, though it had been wonderful in its own way, it couldn't compare to having all of us together. And I never could have imagined being able to include Harry, which made it even better. I sent a mental thought up to James and Lily, wherever they might be now, reminding them how proud they should be. The notion made my eyes tear up once more, and Sirius noticed.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, feeling the wetness on his chest.
"Oh, nothing. I just cry at anything these days. I was thinking of Harry's parents, and that it's just amazing what a sweet kid he is, despite everything."
"I know," Sirius said softly. "So is James. You've been such a wonderful mother to him."
"Oh, stop. You're really going to make me cry," I said, sniffling. "When I think of all those years, though ..." I didn't finish the sentence.
"Well, Voldemort's very weak, if he's still around at all. Things won't be like that again for our world. I hope," he added somberly.
We said no more, but eventually drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I awoke very early. I rose to make some coffee, and opened the front door to pick up the papers. The Prophet and the Times were both on the step as usual. Tucking them under my arm, I closed the door and went back into the kitchen. Sirius was in there now, clad only in a pair of jeans. He came up and put his arms around me as I set the papers down. After a nice long kiss, he pulled away to grab a few cups for our coffee. We sat down, me with the Times and him reading the Prophet as was our morning ritual. After perusing the front page for mere seconds, he snorted in disgust and put his head down on the table, banging it noisily in exasperation.
"What on earth is it? Must be a lot more interesting than what I'm reading. Let me see!" He sat back up, looking at me without speaking, then handed me the paper. I quickly looked down at it to see the headline on the front page.
PETER PETTIGREW ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN
"You have got to be effing kidding me," I immediately said in disbelief.
"Did I predict this, or did I predict it?" Sirius said, clearly outraged. "Damn ministry ... what a bunch of useless fools."
"Well, he could be anywhere. They'll never find him," I commented, stating the obvious.
"You know what this means."
"What?" I asked.
"He's gone looking for Voldemort. I'd wager anything on it."