The Kneazle Question
A soft mewling emanated from Lily's breast.
James blinked. "What" - he began, but was interrupted by Lily, who threw open her cloak - rather grandiosely - and proudly displayed three tiny, ginger Kneazles cuddled against her bosom.
"Aren't they just perfect?" Lily beamed, and thrust one of them into James' arms.
James blinked again. Perfect wasn't his word of choice. The kittens were wet, bedraggled and looked distinctly grumpy. "Hmm," he murmured noncommittally.
"Won't it be fun to keep them, James?" Lily asked. "Here, baby, come to Mummy." She reached out and took the kitten back. He immediately nestled against her shoulder.
James frowned. "Are you sure you want to keep them, Lily? They're quite boisterous, you know, and on top of you being pregnant and all..." He himself wasn't overfond of the feline persuasion, and Merlin only knew what Padfoot or Moony would say when they found out he'd been enlisted as Daddy to cats, and Wormtail wouldn't even sight the place...
One kitten reached out a paw and batted James playfully on the arm. Lily smiled. "Oh see - they already love you!" She smiled up at James, but upon seeing his unconvinced expression, her smile dropped.
She nodded out towards the window, where a violent flurry of snow was hitting the window panes, letting splatters of water trickle down the glass. "It's freezing outside," she said quietly. "I found them in a box under a hedge. The mother was already dead, and the poor things were half-frozen. We have a comfortable and warm home, why cannot we share it with them?"
She turned big, doe eyes on him, and James sighed. He'd never been able to refuse her anything. "All right," he agreed, and kissed her lightly. "But you're cleaning out the litter boxes."