Author's note: Hello and welcome. This is my first fanfic in probably 10 years (will not be disclosing my old penname, but it was over in the Unknowable Room-shout outs to anyone who remembers that particular forum-but some of it was fairly cringe). The pandemic brought me back to the Jily community after a decade away, only for this little story to fester in my brain until I finally broke out my laptop and began writing. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed composing it.
Trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, brief considerations of abortion, sexual content (not smut, but definitely present), very brief mentioning of alcohol/drugs, and self-esteem issues. If any of these will bother you, please take care of yourself!
Yeah, I'm a turner,
I turn pages all the time
Don't like where I'm at
34 was bad
So I just turn to 35
"Bluebird," Miranda Lambert
Drip.
Drip.
"Breathe."
Drip.
Drip.
"Breathe."
The sound of the faucet, slowly leaking. The forced reminders to herself that above all else, she must breathe.
Taking one final ragged breath, Lily forced herself to look down at the small plastic wand in her hand, her actual wand abandoned on the floor of the grimy bathroom stall to her left.
Positive.
Her heart stuttered, but not the way it did when he looked at her, when he touched her, stroked her, caressed her.
No, this stuttering was earth shattering. Life ending. Crushing.
Seventeen, pregnant, and alone. Well, alone, but also not, as she absent-mindedly put a hand to her abdomen, before drawing it back, as if burned.
Times like these made her really regret that she had no friends.
"Breathe," she ordered herself again, closing her emerald eyes.
A plan. She needed a plan. Mothers, she knew, made plans. They did not have panic attacks in gas station bathrooms alone on a Hogsmeade weekend in the nearest muggle town they apparated to by themselves "just for peace of mind," as she told herself this morning when she has made the solitary journey that ended with her shop lifting a pregnancy test. That ended with her here.
"I am having a baby."
She tried the words out, her voice breaking as she said it. Okay, so still some work to do on the acceptance portion of the plan.
Another deep breath, another silent second, save the incessant dripping of the faucet.
"I'm having a baby," she tried again. Good, better. No voice breaking this time. Improvement.
Taking one final breath, she got to her feet, flushing the toilet. The sound echoed in the empty bathroom, and Lily found herself intensely focusing on the sound. Noise was good, it was distracting. She was vaguely aware she was numb, that her hands were shaking, that silent tears were still running down her face. Walking to the sink, she looked hard at herself. Her skin was pale, off color, but this was unsurprising, given the persistent nausea that had plagued her morning, noon, and night, like a bad hangover. Her lips were chapped, probably due to the harsh December chill and her own dehydration, as even water had been impossible to keep down in recent days.
Staring blankly, she again put her hand on her stomach.
"I'm having a baby."
Lily nodded as she exhaled shakily, but continued to stare hard at her reflection, resolve hardening. She was bright, she was capable, and she was a survivor. Twelve years bouncing around the foster care system and nearly seven years of being a friendless, isolated mudblood had taught her to survive.
There were options. She took some solace in knowing she did not have to have this baby. She could make it go away. She did not have to make decisions right now, and she certainly did not have to tell him, yet.
Washing her hands in the sink, she took one more steadying breath.
"Alright, a plan. Walk out the door, apparate to Hogsmeade. Walk back to the castle and to the dorm. Do not stop until you are firmly behind your bed curtains."
There, she had a plan. She was off the floor, nerves still raging, but with a direction, an idea of what needed to come immediately next; she could function for now.
There would be time to panic, to reflect, to decide, and she thought with a dry swallow, if needed, to confess.
For now, she just needed to get back to Hogwarts.
Her plan, however straightforward it felt in the dimly lit bathroom, was not to be.
Moments after arriving in the head dorm, she was ripped from her thoughts.
"Alright, Evans?"
Lily started, blood pounding in her ears. Not now, she thought, desperately. Not yet.
"What do you want, Potter?" She asked, exasperated.
He smirked, that unbelievably attractive smirk, the one that had the power to undo her, to break her, to set her ablaze.
"Fun day at Hogsmeade? I didn't see you. Tell me, what does one do all day in the village when they have no friends to see or money to spend?"
Lily recoiled, as if slapped. The father of my child, ladies and gentlemen, she thought without humor.
"Fuck off, Potter," she bit out. Get to your dorm, close the curtains, she thought to herself, repeating the mantra she had been internally reciting all throughout her journey back.
James smirked further, stepping closer to her.
"There's no need to be so hostile, love. Just stating the obvious," his voice husky as he continued to move even closer until he was close enough to touch her, but he didn't reach for her.
She rolled her eyes, unable to deny either point he made. She didn't have friends, and she didn't have spending money. These were facts that after nearly seven years of observing her, she knew he knew about her.
But she knew him too, and Lily knew what he was doing. This was his game. James loved to poke and prod at her, hitting just enough below the belt to sting her and rile her. She raised a brow at him and couldn't help but notice his pupils were enlarged as he anticipated her response, her insult that would inevitably lead to them bickering, then kissing, then him lifting her, her wrapping her legs around his waist as he either fucked her into the wall or the desk in their shared common room, or sometimes carrying her to his bed. It was a game they had played, and played well, since the first week of the term. A game James very much seemed to desire to play tonight.
Except tonight she couldn't. Because this was a game, but there were real consequences, and tonight, Lily was very much cognizant of those consequences.
"Right," Lily said, barely meeting his hazel eyes, but noticing his jaw had clenched, the tension between the two palpable. "Well, if that's all, I'm turning in." Her voice was small, laced with defeat, exhaustion, shame.
She turned on her heel, only to feel him grip her arm, spinning her back to him.
"Evans," he said, voice prying. "You good?"
Lily gave him a quick study; his face was confused, but not concerned. It was rare for her to back down to him, to turn with her tail between her legs, to not engage. He had been certain he was getting laid tonight, she knew from the moment he had been waiting for her in the common room. James expected her to allow him to shag her; it was the basis of their relationship, although Lily used that term quite loosely. She was changing the rules of their game by refusing to play, but she couldn't be near him while her emotions were so delicate, when she was barely holding it together. When his very presence threatened to shatter her under the weight of the secret she carried within her.
"Never better, Potter," she replied, pulling her arm from his grasp and hastily retreating up the stairs to her private dorm, quietly closing the door behind her and nonverbally casting a silencing charm on her room.
Finally, finally, finally, she dissolved into the sobs she had denied herself all day.
In hindsight, her relationship with James Potter had been doomed from the start. There had been that first day, first year, on the train, that had undeniably started them on the wrong foot and neither had been able to get back on the right foot since.
Lily had not had a normal childhood, she knew that. With her parents dying when she was small, it had always been just her, Petunia, and six different foster placements, the most recent one before Hogwarts in Spinner's End in Cokeworth. The dust that clung to the houses and streets masked that Lily herself was unkempt, with this current foster placement containing more children than the small house could fit and the foster parents could really look after. In short, if Lily thought about it too much, which she had tried not to, the whole situation was traumatizing and bleak.
Until she met Severus.
He lived in the house next door to her foster family from ages 9 through 13 and had been her first and only friend. Even as she was surrounded by other foster children, it was a transient existence, with children floating in and out as parents recovered from drug addictions, left prison, or other arrangements were made. Lily had learned early to not form attachments, as everything was temporary. People leave and don't come back; placements end and aren't renewed.
But Severus, he had stuck around. He had picked her, told her she was special, a witch, with magic in her veins, sharing secrets with her, secrets she had scarcely allowed herself to believe until she was aboard the Hogwarts Express, on her way to her first year at Hogwarts.
Enter: James Potter.
Potter immediately targeted Snape, and Lily unquestioningly sided with her friend. It didn't matter that James was in her house, or popular, or that over time became the fittest thing she had ever fucking seen. She chose Severus, every time, making her relationship with Potter evolve from ambivalent, to contentious, to downright spiteful by the time fifth year rolled around. This choice, this allegiance to Snape, had quickly turned her fellow Gryffindors against her as she made no secret to whom she gave her loyalty; she was weird Lily Evans with the Slytherin mate, hand-me-down materials, who always came back from summer a bit too skinny, eyes a bit more haunted.
Lily might have been okay had this trajectory continued, but as they say, the only constant is change. And fifth year was the year of change.
Lily had always been a cute child, something she had been told regularly by foster parents who had never adopted her, but seemed to appreciate her aesthetic beauty even if there was something inherently wrong with her that always prevented them from welcoming her into their families permanently. Yet, the summer before her fifth year, she could feel the eyes of the boys in her new placement (this one in London and also, alone, as Petunia had turned 18 while Lily had been away at Hogwarts and had all but disappeared off the face of the planet). She had developed new curves over the course of the school year and had taken to "borrowing" (okay, stealing) her roommates discarded beauty magazines. She knew she had unique features, with her emerald eyes and dark auburn locks that cascaded half-way down her back in loose waves, a look she had seen her dorm mate Jennifer attempt to copy but never quite achieve. She had always been petite, on the shorter side but with willowy limbs and a naturally thin waist, undoubtedly helped along by her lack of nutrition most of her childhood. But now, on top of her thin frame sat a well-developed chest and a perkier, rounder bum. In short, during the end of her fourth year and throughout the summer, Lily had become a knock-out, something she still wasn't quite sure she appreciated, as it only brought along unwanted attention from boys who wanted her body, but not her.
She learned this quickly that summer after fourth year, with a brief dalliance from an older boy who lived on the street of her new foster home (she had been moved to a new home last summer, away from Cokeworth, and Severus, something that had formed a new crack in her heart; but last summer's placement had requested no more "older" children so as to avoid their charges negatively influencing their biological children. So, London it was). Teddy was blonde, blue eyed, and tall with lean muscles; a footballer. He had a small gang of devoted friends and was planning on heading to uni in the fall. Lily had taken a summer job cleaning houses to earn money for her books, and his home had been one of them. It had taken an embarrassingly short amount of time for Teddy to get Lily naked, to get her in his bed, to get her to give herself to him. He had whispered promises of waiting around for her, of loving her, of taking care of her. These were lies, of course, and part of Lily knew they were, but he had chosen her. He had thought she was special, beautiful, important. So, she allowed herself to be swept away in him for the summer, only for him to ditch her before getting on the Hogwarts Express September 1st. It was a mistake Lily was determined she would not make again.
Yet, her resolve was tested when Potter looked her over across the Great Hall at the welcoming feast that night with dark, searching eyes. Summer had been equally good to him, growing taller and filling out his lanky frame a bit, hair just as inky and wild, but more touseled; sex hair, Lily knew from experience. It was if each was a moth to a flame, the air crackling with electricity as their eyes met with promises neither wanted to make or keep. It was the beginning of a shift in their relationship, from childish squabbling to sexual tension, yet neither of them made a move, teetering on the edge, but falling back into the comfortable routine of barbs, digs, and insults.
The end of fifth year brought disaster and the end of her friendship with Severus; since she had moved out of Cokeworth, they had begun to drift, and the chasm widened further the closer he became to his housemates. Lily found herself alone more and more, unwelcomed as she was by Snape and his new mates, but also just as isolated by her own fellow Gryffindors. None of her housemates was outright mean (except Potter, in his confusing mixture of flirtatious insults), but it was clear: she was unwelcome, an interloper. So Lily drifted aimlessly, studied in solitude, and took her meals at odd times to avoid interacting with those that looked at her with scorn, pity, or mockery. She figured if she kept her head down and eye on the prize—graduation and moving far, far away from England and the rising blood tensions—she could survive.
She was wrong. The incident after O.W.L.S. ended up being proverbial final nail in her coffin to the Hogwarts social scene. Upon seeing Potter bullying Snape, she had intervened. James had asked her out cruelly and embarrassingly (she hated that a part of her had wished she had said yes, that he had swept her out of there, far from the ugliness of the moment), and Severus had been thoroughly humiliated and lashed out at Lily, calling her a mudblood and effectively ending their friendship for good. Lily had torn into Potter with a fierceness few had seen, yet none forgot. From that moment on, a line in the sand was drawn. There were those that sided with Potter, those that sided with Snape, and then there was Lily, for whom no one felt sympathy or cared to act as a friendly shoulder. Sixth year passed with more stony silence and muttered digs, insults under breaths, but relatively uneventful overall.
Seventh year brought the strangest turn of events to date: Lily was named as Head Girl to Potter's Head Boy.
While Lily had been a prefect since fifth year (a political statement, her peers had sneered behind her back when they thought she wasn't listening), she hadn't exactly commanded respect inside or outside of her house. She was a studious, quiet, loner. She was not exactly anyone's first pick when asked who the favorite for the positon was.
Potter was even stranger of a choice. A notorious prankster with a mean streak, Lily was fairly certain he had spent more time inside of detention than any other student except for his best friend, Sirius Black. She had heard the girls in her dorm discuss how he had "changed" from time to time last year, but Lily had removed herself so far from the social scene that Potter truly was not on her radar anymore, other than a few throwaway insults he cast her way across the classroom or common room. Lily assumed his promotion to the position had something to do with this alleged reformation, but frankly, she didn't really care at the time. Her plan going into the year was the same it had been for the last several: head down, study hard, pass her exams, and get the hell out of England. Foolproof. Easy.
This plan worked for exactly two days.
It had been a bit of a curveball when Lily was informed the heads would be sharing a dormitory, but she was thankful for the privacy and isolation it provided. She figured Potter would not be around much, given his close ties to Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew. And if all else failed, she had her own room that was hers, that she didn't have to share. Potter would not ruin that.
Reminding herself of this as she crossed the threshold of the heads dorm on the evening of September 3rd, she pushed her way in, more than ready to retire for the evening.
Potter had other plans.
"Evans, just the swot I was looking for," he drawled, full lips smirking as he ran his hand through his dark, messy curls.
"Potter," she responded dryly, "just the imbecilic low life I was hoping to avoid."
Potter rolled his eyes, getting up from the chair by his desk. He looked at her disdainfully, taking in her faded robes that had a small hole that Lily had glamoured away this morning, but hadn't lasted the full day.
"You look like a slob, you know," he said, giving her a quick once over. "A very hot slob, but a slob nonetheless. Probably best if you just remove the robe, the view is much nicer."
Lily flushed. This was classic Potter, both hitting on her and insulting her all in one go. "Wish I could say the same about you," she retorted (and lied). "But I find the view would be drastically improved if you covered up more. Preferably something that hides your arrogant, foul mug completely."
James chuckled, now walking over to her. "Evans, Evans, Evans. We both know you don't want that. You're dying to rip my clothes off me, to see what's underneath. "
Lily scoffed, rolling her eyes again, stepping back from him, closer to her stairs. "I don't know that. Pretty sure I absolutely want the opposite of that," she said, but couldn't exactly stop herself from taking a bit of a dry swallow. Technically, he wasn't wrong. She had harbored this embarrassing attraction to him since that first night of 5th year, even if she refused to ever act on it.
"Evans, it's cute the way you deny it," James said, continuing to step closer. "You think I haven't noticed the staring?"
Lily felt herself flush. Damn porcelain skin. It gave away every emotion she worked hard to protect. "What is this, Potter? Why are you speaking to me? I so enjoyed our stalemate of silence we instituted last year."
James chuckled again, reaching a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "But we're roommates now, Evans. Maybe I just want some company, some-" his voice cracked slightly, and it seemed as if maybe, just maybe he was nervous, "bonding."
His look was prying, expectant, calculating. Lily realized in that moment that he had thought about this, an arrangement of sorts that involved her, him, and all the desires she had refused to consider. This, unless she was very much mistaken, felt akin to a proposition.
Lily had been propositioned before by boys like Potter. It would always start off fine enough, an invitation to Hogsmeade, or a walk around the lake. She had even accepted a few times, only to be disappointed when inevitably the boy in question would try to shove his tongue down her throat or his hand up her skirt. Eventually, she had learned to just say no to dating altogether.
But with Potter…she was hesitating.
She continued to look at him in silence. There was no way she should say yes, her brain thought rationally. She didn't like him, even if he was stupidly attractive. There was nothing in this for her—the attachment she would more than certainly form to him would lead to heartache for her.
He took her silence as the rejection, scoffing at her, his face twisting into a sneer. "Forgot, you only like the company of greasy Death Eaters who chuck you aside for personal gain. That's why you've been pining away for Snape all this time—"
"Fuck you," she said quietly, unexpectedly stung by his accusation. "He was my friend, he betrayed me—"
"Yeah, yeah, such a pity," James said dismissively, starting to back away. "So sorry that becoming a Slytherin slag didn't work out for you—"
In that moment, Lily saw red. How dare he pick away at this particular wound? How dare he mock her for her only real friendship? Without thinking, she was thundering toward him, arm raised, ready to slap the look of victory from his face, to scream at him, to eviscerate him.
But it wasn't to be. Potter caught her arm mid-slap, and pressed her into the bannister at the foot of the stairs leading to her dormitory. Their eyes met, hazel on emerald, both panting slightly, adrenaline surging. Lily was unsure what they were teetering on the edge of, only that they were definitely teetering.
And then he kissed her, hard, bruising, unrelenting, kisses she returned, with fervor, channeling all of her anger and rage at him, at the world, at her life. She allowed it to consume her as she consumed him, as their hands wandered and buttons were loosened. As he moaned her name—her first name—for the first time. As she carded her hands through his silky locks, as she bit his neck and he began unbuttoning her shirt and pressed his hard on into her stomach.
Finally, he pushed her off, panting, breathless, wild.
"Are we fucking doing what I think we're doing?" his voice was hoarse with a twinge of shock and bewilderment. His eyes gave away his utter surprise and maybe even delight that this, whatever it was, might be happening.
"Yes," Lily surprised herself with her reply, wanting nothing more than to feel his heat, his pressure, his essence against her, within her.
"Fuck yes," James whispered, drawing her back in, holding her close to him in a way no one ever had. It was possessive and claiming, opening something up in Lily she could not name, nor would she acknowledge. Because right now, in this moment, she belonged to someone, with someone.
And so she let him undress her and carry her to his bed. She let him fuck her into oblivion, to a place where nothing mattered but his hands, his mouth, him. And when it was done, she felt no shame, only a peacefulness she had never known before as they laid in his bed, sweat on their bodies, evidence of their affair running down Lily's legs.
"We could do this again, you know," James finally spoke into the silence. He moved his hand to cover her own, giving it a small squeeze. "That was fucking brilliant, Evans, and it's just us in here. No one would have to know."
She turned to him, studying him, calculating the risk.
Pros: great sex, companionship, not feeling utterly alone.
Cons: her entire life falling apart.
"Fuck it," Lily said, swinging a leg over his hips and straddling him. "I'm in."
From there, scarcely a night went by without Lily and James (because he was James now—at least when they were alone) exploring every inch of skin on one another's bodies. It was thrilling and satisfying, igniting a new happiness in Lily she could not remember feeling ever. The pattern still persisted—flirtation mixed with insults, a response, a kiss, and then a shag. She knew it wasn't exactly healthy, but she didn't want to examine her choices closely. It felt good, and as a girl who had known so little of what good felt like thus far in her life, she wasn't prepared to turn it away.
That's not to say their relationship changed completely. In class or in Head duties, they still more or less ignored one another with the exception of a few well-placed jabs here and there.
"Fucking pathetic," James had pretended to cough one day in Transfiguration when Lily struggled with the lesson. McGonagall had asked her to demonstrate the spell, and she had failed miserably. Bright as she was, Transfiguration was far from her forte.
Sniggers filled the room, and Lily felt herself blush furiously. It was one thing to not understand the spell, but to be insulted by him in front of everyone had hurt, badly.
McGonagall took house points and had given him a stern look, but that did nothing to quell Lily's uneasiness. That is, until later that evening when he slammed her into the wall, sucking on her earlobe.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered between nips and licks. "Remus caught me staring at you like five times this morning. I love the way your hair looked today. He's getting suspicious."
Lily hummed, a retort on his lips, but unable to get it out as his hand made its way to her core and slipped beneath her knickers. Any argument she might have initiated about respect was quickly forgotten as James made his apology with his body.
And so it continued, throughout September and October, the only evidence to the outside world of the co-Heads using their private dorms for debauchery being the occasional hickey or scratch one would forget to charm away. The outward frostiness they held toward another melted the moment they entered their private space, where James was tender and Lily was vulnerable.
One night in mid-November, after James had bent her over his desk and rammed her from behind, he took her hand, attempting to lead her to his bed.
"What are you doing?" Lily asked, her voice choked, panic surfacing.
"Taking you to bed," James said. "You looked dead on your feet before I fucked you, and ready to pass out now. Let's go to bed."
"I'm not really up for a round two," Lily said, scooting away from him slightly, eyeing him warily.
"I wasn't implying you were," James said, his tone now also guarded. "I just want to sleep. You've looked a bit under the weather, and a good night's sleep would do you good." There was something in his eyes Lily didn't recognize, but it made her uncomfortable.
"Yeah, because we cuddle," Lily said, rolling her eyes.
"We could," James said. And when Lily continued to stare at him, he continued, "Would make a morning shag easier."
"Nah, I'm good, Potter," she said, her tone firm. "I'll see you tomorrow."
After that, James seemed to pick up better on her boundaries and didn't necessarily push her for intimacy again. In fact, they spoke less than ever, but he always seemed right on the verge of wanting to say more, breaking off heated snogs to look at her intensely, longingly even.
Uncertainty gnawed at Lily as she grew more attached to him each day. She found herself daydreaming about him during class, or worrying about him if he was out later than expected for rounds. She could pick up on his moods and habits, knowing when he needed her to be soft and when he could handle harsh teasing. He still knew how to pick at her, nettle her, but she found even the insults seemed to lack the acid they used to hold. Their fights were merely going through the motions, and sometimes skipped altogether in favor of more pleasurable foreplay. His touches and glances became the best parts of her day, and Lily found herself watching the clock most evenings for the arrival of curfew when she could cease to be herself and instead just be his. She told herself this was just the by-product of the sex haze she had been living in for the past two and a half months, but even she recognized it was a feeble excuse. She fancied him, full stop.
Pondering those feelings as she got ready for class early one morning, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of nausea. Strange, she thought. Lily was typically very healthy and avoided most of the bugs that went around school. Pushing on, she made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast, where her senses were immediately assaulted with smells of eggs, bacon and coffee. She sat, attempted to take a bite of toast, when James swaggered in, surprisingly alone, and dropped onto the bench next to her. It was early, too early for him to be awake. He should have been asleep or else over in his old dorm in Gryffindor messing around with his mates. He never came to breakfast when she did. She watched him skeptically as he put an over-easy egg on his plate.
"Potter, what are you doing?" She asked, stomach churning unpleasantly.
"I thought we might have breakfast?" James asked, his voice would-be-casual.
"Excuse me, why—"
Lily did not finish that sentence, as at that exact moment, James had swiped his toast over the yellow yoke of the egg, bursting it into a river of goo, sliding over his plate.
The sight, coupled with the smell, was too much. Lily retched, bile crawling up her throat.
"Hey, Lily, I know we usually do the whole 'you repulse me' thing in public, but fake vomiting is a bit much, don't you—" James began, clearly thinking she was doing a bit at his expense. The vomit pouring out of Lily's mouth quickly put that notion to rest.
"Shit, Lily, are you ill?" James asked, voice laced with concern.
Lily continued to gag, hoping the look she spared him communicated how dumb she thought that question was.
"Hospital Wing for you, then, I think," James said, pulling her up by her arm. "Madam Pomfrey will have you sorted in no time, don't worry."
Feeling too weak and queasy to argue, she allowed him to lead her the hospital where she was given an anti-nausea potion and told to rest. She didn't feel much better when she woke, but told herself it was probably just a flu bug, nothing to worry about.
She would come to find it was, in fact, definitely something to worry about.
The days following the Hogsmeade visit, or as Lily now thought of it (A.P.R., After Pregnancy Revelation) crawled at a glacial pace. A child, her child, James' child, was growing inside of her.
She had no idea what to do.
Keeping the baby felt impossible, overwhelming, and like a death sentence for any sort of future she had imagined for herself. How would she support them? Fuck that, how would she finish school to support them? Were Head Girls allowed to get knocked up? She had even gone so far as to look back at a book containing pictures of the Head Boys and Head Girls throughout the years, and sure enough, none of them were pregnant.
So pro column for keeping the baby: she would be a trailblazer for pregnant Head Girls everywhere. Excellent.
Yet, getting rid of the baby felt even heavier. How could she, someone who had been bounced around, unloved and unwanted, throw a child away? She knew what that felt like. And while this child, if aborted wouldn't technically be capable of actual thoughts and feelings yet, it weighed on her heart and soul.
I could love this child, she had thought to herself. I would make sure this child would never feel unloved.
Lily knew what it felt to be poor, and she knew what it felt like to be unloved. If given the choice, she'd take poor every time.
And then there was James who had no idea a ticking time bomb was currently resting inside her uterus, just waiting to blow apart his privileged, perfect world to smithereens.
She had no idea how he'd respond. She had played the scenario in mind a million times, and his response had ranged from angry, to tearful, to a full-blown proposal with Slughorn providing the wine for the toast. She could admit that this one was probably the least likely.
As the Christmas break approached, she tried to pull away a bit from James, make herself less available so she had time to process. He would be leaving for the break to go back to his manor, probably to count his diamonds or whatever the absurdly wealthy did with their holidays, so she really only needed to survive two more days. So far, she had successfully held him off by telling him she was on her period (the irony was not lost on her), but even James seemed to know periods did not typically last for thirteen days.
Pausing from her ruminating, she sighed, heaving herself from her bed. She had a potion essay she needed to wrap up, and the book she needed was in the common room. Where James was currently camping out, undoubtedly waiting for her to show up.
Sure enough, as she walked out of her room, she saw James' head swivel to her instantly, but he was not alone.
"Hi Evans," Sirius Black said cheekily. "Finally come to join the party?"
Lily surveyed the scene, taking in the sight of Firewhiskey bottles and joints littering the table. She wrinkled her nose, the smell instantly making her feel queasy.
"Evans," James said, smile soft. "Sit with us. Drink, smoke, be merry. Tomorrow we get high."
Lupin chuckled. "That's not exactly how it goes, mate."
James laughed, a full belly laugh, and Lily felt her heart clench with how beautiful he looked in that moment. Her eyes seemed to linger for just a moment to long, as when she returned her eyes to the survey the rest of the group, Black seemed to be studying her.
"I can't stay," she said, aware this was probably the first time she had been invited to hang with any of her house mates. "Potion essay to wrap up."
Pettigrew snorted. "Swot," he said, eyes scanning his friends' reactions, clearly thinking they'd all have a quick go at her before she went back upstairs like the loser she was.
"Shove off, mate," James said, giving Peter's arm a quick punch. "You're like the most brilliant potioneer in our year. Take the night off. I've barely seen you recently."
Lily's eyes widened slightly, trying hard to communicate to James to kindly shut the fuck up. His guard was down, and clearly, he was far too comfortable with their secrets around his mates.
"Something tells me that's intentional, mate," Black countered, smirking at James. "Everyone knows she can't stand you."
"Stands me just fine," James muttered, but Lily chose that moment to stub her toe, loudly, on the end table, drawing the attention away from James and his inability to keep his stupid, gorgeous, sexy mouth shut.
"One drink, Evans," Lupin said, rather kindly. "Won't kill you to hang with us for a moment, will it?"
"I can't drink," Lily said without thinking. Four sets of eyes swiveled to her. Fuck. "Um, I was sick for a bit, James you probably remember, and Pomfrey put me on some medication. Can't mix it with alcohol." Lily mentally congratulated herself on her quick save.
"Well, sit with us anyway," Black said. "We know nothing of you. Literally. Not one thing. And since you are James' new favorite roomy, I'd say we're well overdue for a catch up."
Lily shook her head again, her flight instincts going into overdrive. "I really need to get this done, sorry," she said, grabbing her book and trying to make her escape.
"We insist," James said, throwing an arm around her and using his weight to guide her to the spot on the couch he had just vacated, pulling her down.
The silence that followed was awkward, to put it mildly. The four boys were thick as thieves, and once again, Lily felt like an intruder. Like she did not belong.
"Christmas plans, Evans?" Lupin asked, attempting to break the ice.
"I'll be here," Lily answered, James' face snapping to her again.
"You don't go home for Christmas?" He asked, eyebrows raised.
"No, I never do," Lily answered, again feeling a bit like a cornered animal. She did not like his prying. They did not talk, not about her life, and certainly not with an audience.
"Ah, family drama," Black said, taking on a sage tone. "We are cut from the same cloth, Evans."
"Something like that," Lily answered vaguely.
"So you'll be alone, all by yourself, on Christmas?" James continued to stare at her hard.
"That's literally what she just said, Prongs," Pettigrew said with an eye roll. "How high are you?"
"That's sad," James said, looking at her softly, face lined with concern.
"Yes, well that's me. Sad, lonely, loser Evans," Lily said glibly, rolling her eyes at him. "This has been super fun, but I'm off to finish my essay," she said, unable to sit there with his face so open, his voice so concerned. It made her stupid, traitorous heart, and rebelling, unreliable hormones trick her brain into thinking her really cared. As she began her retreat upstairs, she couldn't help but overhear the conversation that had resumed in her wake.
"Okay, what the actual fuck is happening, Prongs?" Lupin asked. "Grown soft on Evans?"
She closed the door before she could hear his response. She didn't know which answer she'd prefer.
The Christmas holiday came and went, and all throughout, Lily could not help but think of next Christmas and what that might look like with a tiny baby in her arms, beginning new traditions with her child. It was in that moment she realized, she was having this baby. It had wound its way into her subconscious; she was making plans with the child in mind, and when she then replayed similar scenarios sans baby, she could not help but notice her heart sank a bit. She felt a terrible melancholy creep over her at the idea of not having the baby, and with that epiphany came the acceptance that, ready or not, she was doing this.
It seemed as though as quickly as she had made that decision, her body responded immediately. As she was getting dressed the first morning classes were to resume, she could not help but notice her skirt was tight and she had a small, barely there, but definitely present bump protruding from her abdomen.
"Fuck," she breathed. Lily had always been naturally very thin, which meant there was no way to hide any changes to her body. Her boobs had also become quite engorged, and she had to enlarge her bras. James had definitely noticed when he returned the night before, randy as hell and ready for a shag ("Merlin your tits are fucking perfect, Lil, they're glorious" he had groaned as he had palmed them), but she had explained it away as a side effect of her "medication." He had accepted her story without question.
This, the bump, though, led to a new set of issues. Her robes would hide the evidence of the baby for a little longer, but by the end of the month, or next, she would be showing. Add that to the research list, she thought to herself. Over break, she had researched and successfully brewed pre-natal potions, but this would definitely be trickier. Glamour charms would probably work, but they'd need reapplied often. Perhaps there was something slightly more permanent?
It turned out, however, glamour charms were all she could find that would work. Thankfully, she did find a fairly potent one, and surprisingly, hid the evidence of her rapidly growing bump even sans clothing, allowing her and James to continue their trysts. She felt truly awful for keeping this secret and knew she needed to tell him, but he had come back from break more reserved than ever outside of their shagging. He continued to mess around with her nightly and their banter seemed fine, but something was off and Lily was petrified this news would drive him away for good.
As January blustered and prepared to give away to February, Lily set a deadline for herself. By the Easter holidays she would tell him. He would probably be angry, maybe even hurt, but she needed to get her head right before she could allow herself to be so vulnerable, so open with another person, especially him.
Making her way to her rounds that evening, Lily felt at peace with her decision. She had about two months to decide how and when she wanted to share this life altering news with James, and in the meantime, she'd enjoy whatever time she had left with him, should he decide fatherhood and Lily were not in the cards.
Just as she arrived to the entrance hall, she heard her name being called from behind her.
"Evans!"
Speak of the devil, she thought, unsure if she was annoyed or excited by his arrival.
"Chester is ill this evening and asked me to fill in," James said, smirking at her, giving the Entrance Hall a quick sweep with his eyes, and finding it empty, putting his hand on the small of her back to draw her closer to him.
"Is she now," Lily bantered, finding herself smiling despite herself.
"Mmhmm," James said, grin widening. "I think we should definitely start in the old Transfiguration wing. Lots of rule breaking happening there lately," he said with a wink.
"Lead the way," Lily said, a thrill running down her spine.
The two set off, and not minutes after arriving, James slammed her into the wall, attaching his mouth to hers with a fierce desperation. The two snogged desperately, as if they hadn't just done the exact same thing last night in the privacy of their dorm, but the thrill of getting caught added another layer of sexiness
Just as things were heating up, a loud bang echoed in the hall, and as Lily withdrew quickly from James, her blood ran cold.
Severus.
"Alright, Snape?" James asked, her tone icy.
Severus stared hard at the couple, eyes furious, hands shaking imperceptibly. Lily felt like she had been slapped.
"Severus—" she started, her voice tiny, weak.
"What are you doing here, Snape?" James asked, his tone hard.
"I'm a prefect. I'm allowed to wander at night, too. Especially when our esteemed Heads can't be trusted to complete something simple like rounds," Snape sneered, anger boiling under his voice.
James gave a humorless chuckle, a retort no doubt a retort ready on his tongue, but Lily cut him off.
"Potter, continue the rounds on your own for a bit," she said, voice stronger than she felt.
"Are you serious?" James turned to her sfast, eyes wide, bulging.
"I need to speak with Severus," Lily said, eyes never leaving her former friend.
"Merlin and Agrippa," James huffed, frustration rolling over him. "Him? Seriously? Still?" He sputtered, anger visible on his face.
"I'll be along," Lily said, turning back to James quickly, before turning back to Severus, who it seemed had the good sense to stay quiet for at least the moment.
James stared hard at her for another long moment before turning on his heel and striding purposefully down the corridor. When he was finally gone, Lily turned back to Severus.
"Sev—"
"Potter, Lily? You have to be kidding me. You are not this much of a fool," his voice was hard, but she could hear the pleading underneath.
"We aren't dating," Lily jumped in quickly. "It's casual, a secret. Just a bit of fun. Means nothing to either of us—"
"That makes it so much worse!" Severus spat, eyes wild. "For you to degrade yourself for him, after all he's done, after all he said—"
"Sev—" Lily tried to interject, but Severus would not be silenced.
"You hate him! And yet you picked him, over me, after all we've been through. You picked him—"
"BECAUSE HE PICKED ME!" Lily finally burst, unable to contain herself. She put her fingers at the bridge of her nose, took a steadying breath. "You chose your Death Eater friends. You chose to call me a mudblood. You chose to throw our friendship away. I know seeing what you did tonight was awful for you, and I'm sorry, but you chose to leave me behind as a friend way before Potter came in the picture."
Silence followed. Lily knew her words would have minimal impact; when it came to James, Severus had no ability to be introspective or rational. She saw his face harden, something ugly twisting in his face.
"Did he pick you, though? Really? You said it was casual, a secret. Doesn't sound like he chose you after all, not if he's so embarrassed to be associated with you he scarcely saves you a kind word in public."
This time Lily was stunned into silence because she knew, without a doubt, on some level, he was right.
Breathe, she told herself, her constant mantra since that grimy bathroom stall. Get out while you can.
"Regardless, you know now. You know we're involved in some capacity. You can be angry and jealous and spiteful, but you owe me this secret, Severus. I need you to keep this quiet. Please, Sev. For me. "
Severus stared her down hard after her request.
"Fine," he spat, glowering, turning on his heel and leaving.
Lily let out a shaky breath. Problem one, solved. That was good.
Problem two, Potter; not solved.
Lily moved to sit on the floor of the corridor, allowing herself to be lost in her thoughts. Severus, despite the bias his words carried, was not wrong. James had not picked her, and if she were honest, would never pick her. She was not the girl people wanted, she was merely someone you got stuck with.
You can walk away, Lily thought to herself, heart sinking as the thought occurred to her. You're in deep, but you can get out. This isn't impossible, yet. Space from him would give her perspective, focus. It would allow her to be more objective about the future, which was imperative because this was no longer just her future she was thinking about.
She'd be lying to herself if she hadn't been grasping to some desperate hope that the confession of the baby wouldn't bring the two of them together, giving her someone to lean on and take care of her and the baby. It was a fantasy, and it had clouded her judgement.
The James Potters of the world did not end up with the Lily Evanses. Fact.
Holding on to any other delusion was dangerous for her and her child.
She took a deep breath. She would tell him about the baby before Easter, but in the meantime, this relationship? Affair? Tryst? Whatever it was classified as, needed to end.
Rising from the ground, Lily made her way back to the common room, quietly settling on the sofa. She had no idea when James would be back; he had been so angry when she had sent him away.
Absentmindedly, she picked up her Arithmancy text and began to read until her eyes drooped with drowsiness. Fatigue had replaced nausea recently as her most prevalent symptom, and her late nights with James had not been helping. Another benefit of ending things, she thought without satisfaction.
At some point, Lily had drifted to sleep, only to be woken by James at some point later.
"Lily, wake up," he said gently, giving her a shake.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes, staring into his hazel orbs. She loved his eyes.
"Hey James," she said softly, eyes never leaving him. She wanted to soak up every last minute of his demeanor like this; she doubted she'd see it again. "I need to speak with you, actually."
James crossed his arms, wrinkling his brow. "Yeah?"
Lily nodded, "Yeah. Look, I think I need to back off the sex thing we've been doing," she said, her voice small. She tried to hold his gaze, but found she couldn't, not when she saw his face instantly close, transforming into the mask she now recognized he wore when he did not want to show what he was feeling.
"This is about Snape, yeah?"
"Yes and no. He pointed out some things to me, and they made me think…" Lily trailed off, forced herself to get through what needed to be said. "Look, this isn't working for me anymore. I need space. I've made up my mind, and I won't change it. Let's just end it on a good note and part ways amicably."
James scoffed, an angry red flush creeping up his cheeks. "I get no voice in this, I'm assuming?"
"Look, its not that you get no voice—"
"No that's exactly what it is. Your Death Eater boyfriend spotted you doing something he didn't like and he clearly has you so wrapped around his finger that all it takes is one conversation and—"
"This isn't about him!" Lily interjected, her voice desperate.
"Yeah, well it certainly looks like it. Whatever, Evans. It's fine. We both knew what this was. Not like I thought we were going to ride off into the sunset together. You wanna call it off, we'll call it off."
Without another word, James stormed upstairs.
Things certainly changed after that, or rather, went back to life before. Lily was lonely, but was certain it was for the best. With her evenings now free, she began writing letters to some contacts in the potion world she had made through her time in the Slug Club, attempting to obtain employment after graduation. Potioneering would be a good fit if someone would take her on. The money was solid and dependable, but with a flexible schedule, allowing her to work and care for her baby. She merely needed someone who would be willing to overlook her less than desirable blood status. Her applications would be pristine, and she was confident if she could just get an interview and land the job, she could find a way to convince a future employer that she was more than just a muggleborn single mother.
February faded to March, and while James continued to avoid her at all costs, she could feel his eyes watching her from time to time. This more than anything else made Lily paranoid; she knew he was studying her, and as someone who really wanted to fly under the radar right now, his persistent watching made her nervous. She kept waiting for him to say something, to yell or insult her, to curse her, anything, but he remained silent and stony, unwilling to give her the time of day.
As March rolled along and neared its end, Lily found she had to reapply the glamour charms hourly in order ensure her bump remained hidden. She had popped, so to speak, and even if her classmates couldn't see it, she knew she had started to move a bit differently, slower, more measured to accommodate her changing body. She wasn't huge, yet, but the secret was getting more and more difficult to hide. Even more, she no longer really wanted to hide it. She missed James terribly, and not only for the sex (although, hello trimester two sex drive, Lily had thought one evening, as had she positively burned for him). Lily missed his companionship, the way he made her feel safe, the little looks he'd give her to make her laugh. She knew space from him had been needed to get her head right, to plan for her future, but ultimately, she was not so callous as to think he did not deserve to know the truth. She had grown up without parents; even if he did not want her anymore, he could at least be there for the baby, even in a limited role. Her baby deserved a father.
With that in mind, Lily made an excuse to cut her rounds short on a Thursday evening. James would be getting back from Quidditch soon, and she wanted to intercept him in the common room so they could have a real conversation.
Like ripping off a band-aid, she told herself as she clumsily made her way through the portrait. Her center of gravity was off kilter, making her feel unsteady.
To her surprise, James was already there, waiting. This was a departure from his usual habits; since Lily had broken it off, neither had spent much time in the common room, choosing instead to keep to themselves in their private dorms.
He looked up as she entered and gave her a hesitant smile. This was good—he was in a good mood. He did not recoil when he saw her. It might just be okay, she thought, working up her courage.
"Good practice?" She asked, and despite his presence in the common room, he clearly had not expected her to actually speak to him.
"Fine. We're as ready as we can be for Saturday."
"Good, that's good," Lily said, nerves rising. "Look, James, I've been wanting to speak with you."
"Yeah, me too," James said. "I have something I'd like to discuss with you, too."
"Oh," Lily said, taken back slightly. "Go on, then."
"I'd like to take you on a date," James said, and Lily felt her world tilt.
"Excuse me?"
"Look, neither of us can deny the sex was incredible. But clearly, something was missing for you. So, let's try a date. I think, maybe, we might have something worth exploring. Maybe it's there, maybe it's not, but why not find out? Let me take you out."
Whatever Lily had thought he might say, it certainly wasn't that. She was flabbergasted, unable to wrap her mind around this new information.
He wanted to date her? He thought they had something worth exploring?
"Potter-"
"Just say yes, Lil. One night. You'll look pretty, I'll tell jokes that make you blush, we come back here and shag it out. If we're into it the next day, we keep going on dates. If not, no hard feelings."
"Okay," Lily breathed out, startling herself. A date. She could do that.
"Good. Tomorrow night then?"
"Okay," she said again, mentally kicking herself. Was okay seriously the only word she could say right now?
"Great," James looked pleased, a smile over taking his whole face. "Now, what did you need to speak with me about?"
Lily's mind went blank. It certainly no longer felt like the right time to share the news that they would be co-parents. After all, he seemed to be treating this whole date thing as an experiment, a way of determining if they would work. Sharing the news about the baby now would certainly add extra pressure that neither of them needed.
"Nothing," Lily said, feeling every bit the coward she was. "Just missed talking to you."
James smiled and ruffled her hair. "Well obviously. I'm a sparkling conversationalist."
"Git," Lily muttered, rising to her feet. "I'm absolutely knackered. I'll see you tomorrow."
"For our date," James supplied, smiling smugly.
"For our date."
And so, the next evening found Lily curling her hair with her wand, taking extra time to make her waves look natural but perfectly styled. Sighing as she struggled to reach the back of her hair, she once again lamented her lack of friends. Girlfriends helped each other get ready for dates with their baby daddy, she thought bitterly.
The outfit was a bit trickier, as she wanted something sexy, but also something classy. Considering her winter wardrobe consisted of one pair of jeans, a few t-shirts, and two jumpers, this was not easily remedied. She settled for jeans and her nicest jumper, feeling that she at least looked somewhat presentable; after all, she was out of her uniform which had to have been some improvement.
Her clothes had all be enlarged magically, so she was able to shimmy into her jeans, but realized they were quickly becoming tighter. She wasn't sure how many times clothes could be magically altered, but she had to be pushing the limit.
"Well," she said out loud to herself as she studied her reflection. "This is acceptable, I suppose."
Not exactly the ringing endorsement she had hoped she'd give herself, but she didn't look horrible. It was enough for now.
Making her way down to the common room, she noticed James' door was ajar, but he was also not present on the sofas. They had agreed to meet in the common room, and then they were going somewhere, he hadn't shared the exact location. She assumed it was somewhere in the castle because quite frankly, where else was there to go?
Settling on the sofa, she picked up a copy of the evening Daily Prophet, losing herself in the news, most of which was grim. More and more disappearances, unexplained natural disasters, and prejudice laws being presented in the ministry. Exactly the type of reading one hoped to read before a big first date.
She turned the page to read the Lifestyle section, hoping for something slightly more light-hearted, and lost herself in her reading while listening for the portrait to open, or an owl to drop a note, or something.
The clock chimed. Officially the time her date was due to start. No James in sight.
She turned the page, becoming more restless. The clock continued to tick, mocking her pounding heart. Where was he?
Five minutes became ten, ten became twenty, twenty became thirty, and suddenly it was an hour past time.
He had stood her up.
She shouldn't have been surpised. Wasn't this exactly what she had expected? Hadn't literally every other boy who had shown interest in her treated her the same way? Just because her stupid pregnancy hormones had deluded her into believe James liked her, had maybe even wanted to date her, didn't mean that was the reality of the situation. If anything, this was probably his cruel form of payback for her breaking things off with him.
Lily's heart sank and she felt the tell-tale sting of tears behind her eyes. No, she scolded herself. No. We are not crying. Not crying, not crying, not crying.
Lily rose to her feet. Well then, fine. If he wasn't going to show, she had no reason to stay. She could walk down to the kitchens for a snack; after all, she was pregnant and hadn't had dinner, and was positively craving pot pie. If James refused to show up and take her on the date, the date he had asked for, mind you, she was going to put on her comfiest pajamas and eat pot pie with the house elves while she cried.
Not that she was going to cry. Because she was definitely not crying.
After changing into her comfortable clothes, Lily took off in the direction of the kitchens, vacillating between furious and desolate.
Just as she neared a corner, she became aware of voices just around the other side, specifically, one voice. The voice of the boy who was supposed to be taking her on a date right now.
"Wormy and Padfoot have the map?"
"Yeah they're keeping an eye on Filch," Lupin responded.
"Good. Be good to create some hijinks around this place again," James replied, but his voice sounded strained.
"Speaking of the map, I've been unsure how to bring this up with you. Sirius brought it up a while ago, and then I started keeping an eye too. We noticed a, ahem, trend, on the map earlier this year. In the head dorms."
Lily had no idea what map he was referring to, but didn't like the idea of anyone noticing a trend regarding her private dormitory. She heard James make a choking sound, indicating he had a pretty good idea of what Lupin was referring to.
"No denial?" Lupin asked, his tone light.
"What am I denying exactly?" James asked, attempting to match Lupin's casualness.
"Look: I drew the short straw. Sirius was supposed to bring it up ages ago, but then you got so touchy when we gave you shit at Christmas about her, so we backed off. But, I'm going to just ask point blank. Were you dating Evans earlier this year?"
"We weren't dating," James denied, but it sounded weak to Lily's ears.
"So, shagging?"
"Yeah, shagging."
"And now?"
"Now we are…not. Snape got all in her head, slimy git, caught us on rounds one night and she spooked. I was going to take her on a date tonight, but I ditched."
"James—"
"No, I had an epiphany. There are girls you fuck and girls you date. Evans is the former, not the latter. She's completely wrong for me, for my life."
Silence hung in the air for a moment.
"You don't know that for sure, mate" Lupin said, his voice careful.
"Nah, I do. She's good for a fuck, really good for a fuck, but beyond that, I don't need it right now. She's not for me."
Lupin chuckled. "Whatever you say, Prongs."
Lily had heard enough. Turning on her heel, she ran back to the head dorm, threw the portrait open, charging up the stairs to her bed. After casting a quick charm to lock and silence the door, she dissolved into tears again.
Tonight, I can cry, she told herself. Just for tonight. I'll cry as much as I need to tonight. And then that's it. No more tears.
True to her word, Lily did cry in earnest that night. Potter, to her knowledge, never came back to the dorm and she assumed he opted to sleep in the Gryffindor tower with his mates. The next day was a Quidditch Saturday, a pastime Lily rarely indulged in, but also helped to maintain distance between she and Potter. After the match was a raging party in the Gryffindor tower, which once again kept James out all night.
Lily remained in the dorm all weekend and chose to take her meals in the kitchens to avoid the hall, and therefore, Potter. She filled out three more job applications, scoured the papers for cheap housing near the magical world, and started to make a list of all the baby gear she needed to somehow acquire over the next few months. It was productive, pleasant even. It reminded her of her priorities.
She knew she still needed to tell him about the baby, but now, knowing how he really saw her, she was too ashamed to face him, afraid he would call her a stupid slag, or worse, that she had tried to trap him into a relationship. She needed to rebuild the walls around her heart a bit more before charging back into the maelstrom that was her relationship with Potter.
The new week dawned and Lily was still resolutely avoiding Potter at all costs. She felt his eyes on her throughout their morning double Charms class, but she refused to acknowledge him, burying herself in her notes and the practice portion of class. At one point, he looked as if he might approach her as class ended, but she was quick to turn on her heel and disappear into the crowd before he could get any closer.
The next class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts where the seventh years were practicing dueling. This was absolutely Lily's worst nightmare, not because she wasn't a skilled duelist, but because her bump made her clumsy and her anxiety over a stray spell hitting and maiming her child was suffocating. She knew she would have to speak up soon, but was once again putting it off until after Easter. Why Easter had become the be-all-end-all deadline in her life, Lily did not know, but that was the decision she had made and she was trusting her resolve.
Today's lesson was more of the same, hexes and shield charms. The professor had decided to do a random draw for pairs, and Lily found herself paired up with Peter Pettigrew.
Lily had no strong opinions on the boy. He was short, but still taller than her, a bit chubby, but overall forgettable. He tended to jump in when James or one of the girls from her old dorm would insult her, but Lily sensed this was his way of seeking approval.
She gave him a weak smile as they lined up, feeling a tight pain in her abdomen. The pregnancy book she had smuggled out of the library over break told her this was likely round ligament pain, and while uncomfortable, it was bearable. It would not make the duel any easier, but she knew she was better than Pettigrew even in her condition.
The two took turns trying to hex one another, but Lily's heart was not in it. She did not really need to pay attention too intensely to keep her shield up. Just as Pettigrew took his turn to try the hex, Lily felt another tight pain, this one a bit more painful.
The pain, coupled with her lack of concentration caused her to fumble her shield, and the stunner Pettigrew aimed at her hit its mark, with Lily succumbing to the darkness that overtook her consciousness.
Lily woke with a start in the hospital wing, briefly panicking when she did not recognize her surroundings. After several hazy minutes, her heart slightly pounding, she realized someone was hovering near her bedside.
"Ms. Evans," Madame Pomfrey, the young hospital wing healer said with a soft smile, "I think we need to have a pretty frank conversation."
Lily gulped, realizing with a start her glamour charm had definitely not held up and she was in a hospital gown. A gown that did not conceal her growing bump.
"I can explain," she whispered, tears already forming in her eyes, although from shame, panic, or fury at herself she couldn't quite pinpoint.
"How long have you known you were expecting?" Madam Pomfrey asked bluntly, but not unkindly.
Lily shook her head, willing her voice to work, but unable to find the words. Silently, Madam Pomfrey gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.
"The baby is fine. When you came in and I performed the requisite scans, I detected an extra pulse. From there, it wasn't difficult to determine the cause. I ran more tests and your little boy is just fine."
"Boy?" Lily squeaked, finally finding her voice. "I'm having a boy?"
Pomfrey nodded, staring down at Lily, the emotion on her face unreadable.
Lily touched her bump gently. A son. She was having a son. Somehow, in all this time, it had never occurred to her she'd have a boy. Her mind had been so sure it would be a girl. She could handle a girl by herself. But a boy…Lily knew nothing of raising a boy.
"Ms. Evans, I understand this is quite emotional, but I'm assuming you have had no prenatal care. In order to best take care of yourself and the baby, I need some basic information from you. So, again, when did you find out you were pregnant?"
"December. I was quite ill and realized I was late. I took a muggle pregnancy test. I'm not entirely sure how far along I am…" Lily trailed off, realizing exactly how much she did not know. She did not even know her due date.
Fresh tears overtook her again.
"From your measurements, you're due in July," Pomfrey answered, again giving her a kind squeeze. "Your child is doing just fine. Strong heartbeat, brain and other organs developing normally. I do have a prenatal potion you need to start-"
"I've been brewing the prenatal potions" Lily confessed. "Slughorn allows me to brew and access his stores. He doesn't know but—"
"Good, that's excellent," Pomfrey said, smiling gently. "But I can take over. One less thing for you to worry over."
Lily nodded vaguely, but couldn't help but think that this was merely the tip of the iceberg. She could brew the potion in her sleep, after all.
" I must confess, I did pass on your status to the headmaster," Pomfrey said in a thin voice.
"You told Dumbledore?" Lily sat up quickly, panic rising. She would be kicked out, she was sure. Best case scenario, she'd be stripped of her Head Girl status, relegated back to the Grtyffindor dorms. It would be impossible to keep the baby a secret between nosy roommates and the inevitable gossip mill when she was chucked out of office. And James—
"You're spiraling, I can tell," Pomfrey said, studying her closely. "I don't think you should fear punishment, but the headmaster would like to speak with you immediately. I told him I'd send you to his office as soon as you were conscious. Can you walk?"
Could she walk? Lily could not even breathe. Shakily, she shook her head.
"Mr. Potter has been waiting outside. He can walk you," Pomfrey said, and handed her back her uniform.
"No!" Lily said, voice desperate. Pomfrey stared at her as the silence passed between them, both allowing her outburst to hang in the air; the insinuation was heavy.
"Lily," Pomfrey started gently.
"Please get rid of him. Please. I can't-" Lily's voice broke.
"Hush, it's okay," Pomfrey said, rubbing gentle circles on her back. "You get changed. I'll walk you myself."
Lily breathed out a relieved sigh and began dressing, recasting her glamour charms to hide the evidence of her bump. When she pulled back the curtain, Pomfrey stood waiting and silently the two women began the trek to the headmaster's office. Whatever came next, she took solace in knowing James was nowhere in sight.
All too soon, that solace was shattered as they arrived at the headmaster's office, Lily barely clocking Pomfrey giving the password as the gargoyle sprang to life, revealing the spiral staircase.
"Good luck, Ms. Evans," the matron whispered and with that, she turned to leave.
Steeling herself, Lily climbed the staircase. She could be strong. She was a mother. She could face a difficult conversation. It was practically a requisite for the role that would be thrust upon her in four months.
Taking one final breath, she knocked lightly, and when Dumbledore told her to enter, pushed her way into the office.
"Ms. Evans, please sit. I'm glad to see you are feeling better," Dumbledore said kindly, eyes soft.
"Thank you, sir," Lily said quietly, not quite able to make eye contact. After all, what did one say to a headmaster who knew you were knocked up?
"I'll get straight to the point, Ms. Evans, as I do not wish to add stress to you in your condition," the headmaster said, pressing his fingertips together and leaning slightly forward in his chair. "There was a prophecy made, this summer, relating to a muggle born witch and pure blooded wizard, both new to adulthood, conceiving a child with the power to defeat Lord Voldemort. That prophecy said the child, a son, would be born at the end of the seventh month."
Time stopped. Lily was aware she was sitting in Dumbledore's office but felt suddenly as if she were floating high above, watching the scene as if it were a movie. Her child, her son, would have the power to…
Her brain could not compute. Dumbledore looked at her, surely expecting questions, a denial that the prophecy referred to her, anything.
She attempted to open her mouth to respond, but no words came out.
"Your circumstances seem to meet most of the requisitions of this prophecy, Ms . Evans. So while I know this seems indelicate, I do need to ask—who is your son's father?"
Again her mouth opened, closed, reopened again. It was as if she has been silenced. Dumbledore sat, patiently, expectantly.
Finally, after several dry swallows, she whispered quietly, "James."
Dumbledore nodded. "I suspected as much. Does he know?"
Lily shook her head, shame washing over her.
But, to her immense surprise, instead of scolding, Dumbledore smiled again and nodded. "That is probably for the best. Does anyone else know?"
"Madam Pomfrey may suspect. There was a moment—"
"I trust Poppy to be discreet. Let me ask you another difficult question: do you wish Mr. Potter to be involved?"
If that wasn't the hardest question to answer. Yes, a part of her thought desperately. Yes. Her son needed his father, and if she were honest, Lily was terrified, more so now than ever before. Shewanted James involved, and if she were finally being honest, had always wanted his involvement. Had held onto the flickering hope he would be involved, even as her own insecurities darkened her outlook.
But.
"There are girls you fuck and girls you date. Evans is the former, not the latter. She's completely wrong for me, for my life."
His words replayed in her mind, once again making her feel small, dirty, unwanted. Her whole life she had been unwanted. Unwanted by the foster families who never picked her; unwanted by Petunia who had aged out of the system and disappeared without a goodbye to Lily; unwanted by her peers who rejected her attempts at friendship; by Severus, who might have loved her but hated that she was a mudblood; by boys who had tried to feel her up and then threw her away when they didn't get what they wanted.
She understood there were plenty of characteristics parents passed on to their children, but being unwanted would not be something she'd pass on to her son. If James saw her as wrong, unlovable, misplaced, then that was one thing. She could take it. But her baby? This pure, innocent, perfect life growing inside of her knew nothing of pain or rejection. And if she could spare him those feelings, wasn't that her job, her duty, as his mother?
"No," she said, voice coming out firmer than she meant. "No, I don't want him involved. I don't want him to know."
Dumbledore nodded again. "I think, keeping the circle of people who know of this child's existence limited is in everyone's best interest. I don't think Mr. Potter would share this news if he understood the circumstances, but the disappearance of both head students mid-term would certainly raise suspicions. And he has far more ties to our society. It would not take long for certain people to put the puzzle pieces together."
"Disappearance? Sir?" Lily asked, locking her eyes with Dumbledore.
"Yes, Lily. I've made arrangements with an old friend in America. I trust her with my life and she has agreed to take you and the baby in. She is a former colleague that can help you finish your studies, and an accomplished dueler to assist should you be tracked. As much as we've tried to keep the prophecy to our side, I've been informed that Voldemort has obtained news of the prophecy. Thus far, I know of no one else who meets the requirements for the prophecy, but we can be certain Voldemort will be using his network of spies to determine if this child is on its way yet. It is urgent we get you out of the castle tonight."
Lily swallowed, hand resting on her bump. "He'll hunt us, won't he, sir?"
"Only if he learns you exist, which I am determined to prevent. The official story will be that your sister is ill and it is imperative you leave to take care of her and will be finishing your schooling remotely. I doubt anyone will find holes in that story?"
Lily briefly thought of Severus. He knew their relationship was strained, but not nonexistent. He would be doubtful, but had no other proof. Finally, she shook her head. "Benefits of having no friends, sir," she said, giving him a small smile.
Dumbledore looked at her sadly, eyes pitying. "You haven't had the easiest life here, Lily. While the circumstances are far from ideal, this is a fresh start. I hope you and your son can build a happier life in your new home."
Lily very much doubted they would, given a homicidal maniac would be scouring the world to find them, but, she appreciated his general sentiment.
"I will remain in touch with you, keeping you abreast of the situation here. But if you have no further questions right now, you really must go pack. I'll arrange a portkey to transport you in an hour."
Recognizing a dismissal, Lily stood, turning and quickly making her way back to the head dorm. Her thoughts were jumbled, churning over Dumbledore's words. She paused for a moment in a corridor, sliding down the wall, head pressed against her knees. It was too much, too heavy, too unfair—
She was eighteen, a penniless orphan, with no support system, a baby daddy who viewed her as a whore, and now—
Christ, she thought. I'm giving birth to the fucking savior of the wizarding world.
If that wasn't a mind fuck, Lily didn't know what was.
Breathe, she thought, commanding herself to refocus her thoughts.
There would be time, and plenty of it, to unravel her anxiety, to allow the fear ebbing its way through her brain and heart to paralyze her. She closed her eyes for a moment, took another deep breath.
Now, she needed to pack, go to Dumbledore's office, and then disappear.
See? She could make a plan. She could compartmentalize.
Cradling her bump, she whispered softly, "It's just you and me, little one. Time for a new chapter, yeah?"
As she gave the password and entered the common room moments later, she groaned as she saw Potter, lounging on the sofa.
"Evans!" He said, rising to his feet, striding toward her. "You recovered. I tried to see you, but Pomfrey—"
"Why?" Lily asked, unable to meet his eye.
He faltered. "What do you mean, why? You collapsed in class and—"
"Why would you want to see me in the hospital wing?" Lily cut him off, pinching the bridge of her nose. She didn't know what she was doing, engaging him in what was sure to be an argument when she had so little time, but she was bitter. What right did he have to pretend to care? He had never cared, never shown her kindness outside of when he was getting his dick wet.
"I was worried," Potter said, his voice tender. "Look, I know we've cocked this up from the start, and I don't know what the rules are, and I know I stood you up the other night but-"
"Stop," Lily said, surprising herself with how cold her voice was. "Stop. Enough. Don't pretend you care about me just because I took a little fall," she said, pressing her lips into a thin line.
"Lil-"
"I heard you talking with Lupin. I'm just a girl you fucked, yeah? Not acceptable to really date. So please save it," Lily leveled at him, this time making eye contact, allowing her words to sink in.
The effect was immediate, a dark flush spreading over James' neck as her eyes pierced him. His face crumbled, and he opened his mouth, arm reaching out to her.
"That's not what I really meant. You don't understand—" he started, his voice quiet, pleading.
"No, I understand perfectly. It's fine. I knew what I was to you. I knew going in what you saw me as. It's fine," Lily shrugged, but could hear a small waver in her voice. Time to get out before she allowed him one more moment of her vulnerability. She looked at her watch, twenty minutes of her hour already having slipped away. "You have rounds in ten minutes."
"Fuck rounds," Potter spat.
Lily huffed, feeling a desperate need to both run toward him and away from him. "Look, it's been a shit day and my head is still aching and -" her voice broke, giving away her emotional exhaustion. "Please go do rounds. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Potter worked his jaw, clearly displeased but after a moment nodded, staring her down determinedly. "Tomorrow."
She gave him one final nod and made her way to her room, waving her want to pack her trunk. Her belongings were sparse, so she could pack quickly while still keep an ear for Potter downstairs. Just as she was finishing up, she heard the portrait close. Lily knew Potter was patrolling with the fifth year Hufflepuff prefect and typically started his rounds in the dungeons. This was good, perfect in fact. She could leave undetected.
Levitating her trunk down the stairs, she paused momentarily. Did she leave a note? Some form of goodbye? He had seemed so desperate to speak to her, almost as though his feelings might match hers.
Feeling a sob building in her chest, she shook herself. She owed him nothing. He felt guilty, embarrassed she had overheard his conversation disparaging her to Lupin. No, she thought, let him wonder. Let him feel what it felt like to be unwanted, rejected, confused.
With resolve, Lily continued to levitate her trunk out of the portrait hole, head held high. It closed with a firm snap.