A long overdue chapter, in both dedication and character. It couldn't seem to decide if it wanted to be fluffy or serious, so it's sort of a mix. Suffy. Or ferious.
For Unanimously Anonymous -
What's that? :
early December, 1980
-
As the sun sinks over the hills on the horizon and shadows slowly begin to creep into the room, Lily is at the sink at Godric's Hollow, beginning to wash dinner dishes. James had invited the other Marauders to come for the meal, then go to the Order meeting with afterwards. The Marauders were virtually the only people they saw at home, and Order meetings were the only time James was able to get out of the house—and even then, Moody and Dumbledore made sure he had copious amounts of spells and protection. So all in all, Lily was grateful for both distractions; they were all that kept James from going stir-crazy.
A couple minutes ago James, Sirius, and Remus had gone to the meeting, but Peter was pale and drawn that night. He'd begged going home to his own flat, but the other three had told him if he really didn't want to go, he could stay here and be a help to Lily, then be filled in on the meeting when they got home.
So there he stayed, now sitting on the floor in the living room with four month old Harry. Lily squirts soap across a large platter the Muggle way and amuses herself by listening to Peter's monologue with her son.
"What a cute wittle boy we are!" Peter says in a sing song falsetto. Lily has to stifle a laugh; maybe her son is a cute 'wittle' boy, but the Marauder most definitely is not.
"You want a bounce? A nice high bounce? Whee!"
Lily can hear Harry's gurgling and Peter's laughter—really, he sounds happier than she's heard him in weeks. "Having fun?" she calls, poking her head in with a tender smile.
"Yes we are," Peter replies, still in a falsetto as he bounces Harry on his knee. "Yes we—ugh!" He lifts the baby away and wrinkles his nose. "What's that?" he asks in a disgusted man-voice.
Lily giggles and turns back to the kitchen. "You're a smart boy, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
"Lily, wait!" Peter calls plaintively. "Lily, I think he . . . did something. And it's bad."
"Well, what are you going to do about it?" She just loves watching her husband's friends squirm.
"Me?" Peter squeaks, and Lily takes pity on him and lets him hand Harry to her. (Peter is right. It is bad.)
"You know, you better hope that whatever girl you've been out fooling around with doesn't want any babies."
"Girl?" Peter asks.
Lily looks at him funny. "That's why you haven't been around much, isn't it? James thought so, anyway."
"Oh, that girl." He turns bright red. "Right, well, I wasn't about to tell all the Marauders about it yet. It's not too serious."
"That's okay, I won't tell a soul," Lily replies with a grin. "Cross my heart. Hope to die."
