Author's Note: all James all the time all James all the time all James all the time all James all the time all James all the time

Chapter 6

Oh, Baby

Pregnant.

The word hung weightless in the air for a moment, huge and suffocating in its density, unseen, but there all the same.

It was her turn to speak, and she had to, for she was the one with all the information. There were too many points to cover and Lily wanted, or needed, for James to know everything at once, because every second he spent not knowing was a second in which he could assume something contrary to the truth, but Shakespeare himself couldn't construct a single sentence that would get this over with quickly.

Why hadn't she rehearsed this? She'd made a bullet-pointed list that she consulted in the cab, but that wasn't good enough. She should have written a speech. She was normally so prepared.

"I'm so sorry," she said, and though she should have taken a breath, she could see the weight of her announcement catch him square in the chest with the force of a cinder block; his sudden stillness, the widened eyes behind his glasses, and every other word came out in an inarticulate rush. "I didn't mean to say it right away like that, it's just that I've really wanted to tell you and I've known about it for over a week, and you're the only person in two years who I've slept with so it's yours, I mean, of course it's yours or I wouldn't be telling you, but I'm so sorry, I thought this stupid thing in my arm still worked but I got all mixed up and that was my fault, and I was drunk because Mary put a metric tonne of absinthe in those bloody cocktails, and I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

Then she ran out of breath, and James looked as if he might be on the verge of passing out, so she stopped talking.

There was a prolonged, excruciating silence, filled only by the sound of heavy rain pummelling the living room window.

"You're pregnant?" he said quietly.

She nodded.

James sat down on the arm of the sofa, his mouth hanging slightly open, staring blankly at something that wasn't there.

"I, um," she began. "No, actually, I'll be quiet. You just take a minute."

She wanted to say something else. She wanted to apologise again, explain again, and most importantly tell him that she hoped he'd find it in his heart to get on board because she was terrified of doing this by herself, but he had to have his reaction first. He deserved that. Lily had gotten hers, tearful and ugly, while she clung to her best friend in their tiny bathroom, doubled over with shock even though she'd known instinctively what the test would say before she took it. James was getting this news out of the blue, with no friends around to see him through it. He had so much less to lose, but he also had less control, less choice, and that might have been worse, in a way. Lily could rid herself of this baby and was choosing not to, but he was going to be a father, whether he wanted it or not.

James was entitled to a reaction, whatever it was, and she'd need to deal with it.

She sat down on the opposite sofa, perched as primly as possible, and waited, until he looked up at her as if he'd just remembered that she was in the room with him.

"Lily?" he said.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

She had imagined this conversation taking so many different shapes, but immediate concern for her welfare was the last thing she'd expected, and if she hadn't already suspected that she felt more for him than she should have done, that would have taken her out.

She could have cried, and felt the need for it, pulling insistent at the back of her throat, but she'd sworn to herself that she'd get through this day in one piece.

"I don't know," she said, and ran a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her forehead. "I really - I don't - it's been an awful lot to process, you know, so that's - more importantly, are you okay? That's more my concern at the minute."

"Um, yeah," he replied, frowning. "Just a bit shocked, I think."

"Yes, of course. That's understandable."

James nodded, then he seemed to drift off into his own little world, while Lily, feeling suddenly as if she'd run a marathon, flopped backwards in her seat, her head bumping gently against the back of the sofa, and took a deep breath.

She had processed the news with hysterics. James, apparently, needed peace and quiet.

"Remus knew?" he said, after a couple of minutes.

"He guessed, when I asked him to invite you up. Actually, it was more of a joke, but I didn't exactly react well."

"Oh."

"You're not angry, are you, that I told him first?"

"No," he said. "No, it's fine. I'm glad you had a friend."

He dipped his head to the side and tugged absently at a strand of his own hair, and seemed completely lost, and it felt for the first time since this all started as if she was looking at a person who might possibly understand her, or even a shred of how she had been feeling.

"So, maybe I should talk for a bit?" she softly suggested, and sat up straight again. "Just to catch you up on what I know, and then you'll have all the information I have?"

He looked at her. "Sure."

"Okay," she breathed. To her own ears, her voice sounded shakier than normal, and she wondered if he knew her well enough to notice. "So, I did some tests at home last Tuesday, but I've also been to the doctor and had one there. That was last week, and today is - what date is it?"

"December 2nd."

"Right, so currently, that means I'm six weeks pregnant because they date it - and I didn't even know this until last week - from the first day of your last period, which was October 17th, so, you know, you can do the maths, and also I just wanted to say - I mean, it's really important to me that you know I didn't plan this, okay?"

He frowned at her, seemingly puzzled. "I don't—"

"—because I've been watching a lot of daytime television over the past week, and you'll be surprised how many people do that," she continued, not to be waylaid. She had lost sleep for worrying that she somehow couldn't convey this to him, that he'd assume she'd done it all on purpose, and it was totally irrational - as Mary had reminded her - but Lily had already moved past trying to understand why her fears were what they were. She touched two fingers to her upper left arm and pressed hard, feeling the familiar bump beneath her skin. "I've got a Nexplanon implant – it's still there, you can feel it – and I think I mentioned that to you when we left the pub to – I did tell you, right?"

"Yeah, you mentioned it."

"Yes, so, anyway, I had it, but I was meant to get it changed a few months ago, only I didn't get the letter because Mary and I changed flats and I didn't give the GP my new address, and for some reason I thought it didn't need to be changed out until January because I'd mixed the dates up with a blood test I had, which I realise is entirely my fault—"

"It's not your fault."

"Yes it is, I should have been more aware—"

"No," he said, in a firm, that's-enough-of-that kind of way, which reminded her a little of Remus when he found Sirius too trying and told him off. "It doesn't work like that, you can't blame yourself for this as if I've done nothing wrong. I should have worn a condom—"

"I should have asked you to—"

"That should have been on me. You thought you were safe, at least. I did nothing."

"I'm still going to feel like I'm responsible."

"Well, don't. Please," he said, with such sincere concern in his eyes that she felt herself melt a little, reminded of the exasperating fantasy that had been popping into her head at inconvenient moments, the one in which she and James and the baby found themselves in an adorable little cottage with ivy covered-walls, calling themselves 'The Potters' as if this could somehow all work out, living in a catalogue-perfect world of bubble baths and delicious roast dinners, of sex on Sunday mornings and dimpled baby cheeks.

That was a perfume scented dream, but reality was so very ugly most of the time.

"I'm rather adept at self-blame, so I can't promise anything," she said, with a little shrug.

"If you want to blame anyone, blame me," he insisted. "Or even better, blame your mate."

"Mary?"

"Who puts absinthe in a bunch of cocktails?"

"I know!" Lily squeaked. "She told me and I was like, what the fuck?"

"What was she trying to do, kill us both?"

"Probably, though she's weirdly obsessed with this baby, so you could make a strong case for this entire mess being by her design."

He laughed, and it was a beautiful, helpless thing, a split-second of normalcy in a horrid situation, and the smile she gave him in return was pained, but it felt a lot better than crying in her bedroom.

"Are you okay, though?" he said. "I know I already asked, but how are you, really?"

"Honestly, I feel like an absolute mess," she admitted. "I was sick in work this morning, and my boobs are sore, not to mention I'm terrified and crying all the time, and I can't ask anyone I know for advice because I don't know anyone who's gone through this before. My own mother is dead, and my sister has a kid, but - I mean, I think I was still in nappies the last time she actually gave a shit about me. Do you have any siblings?"

"Only child, me."

"Right," Lily replied. "Of course you are, you're bloody perfect. It's like, why have another when we've peaked with this one?"

That surprised another nervous laugh out of him. "What was that?"

"That was honesty, and it was also Mary's fault," she explained, looking down at her feet. "I mean, not really, but now I think I'll make a habit of blaming her."

"I can support you in that."

"Thank you."

"But can I ask you a question?"

She looked back up at him. He was leaning forward, his elbows balanced on his outstretched knees, his eyes on her face, and his expression had changed. He looked scared, now, but not in the way he had before.

"Sure," she said.

"Are you keeping the baby?"

Their little pocket of normality was crushed to powder, and this time, the nauseating feeling that gripped her so soundly was a product of her frayed nerves.

"I'm sorry for asking," James continued, before she could furnish him with an answer. "It's just that I know you had a pretty specific plan for your life, so I was wondering—"

"Yeah, sure, that makes sense," she agreed, but found herself unable to say it. "Would you rather I didn't keep it?"

"You've already made your decision, right?" he said, looking wary.

"Well, yes, but I want to know—"

"Look, it's your body, and I'm not - I mean, I'd prefer - no, honestly, I'll back you up, whatever you want to do—"

"Right now, I want to know what you want—"

"Lily, just tell me, please, are we having the baby or not?"

It was the word 'we,' flung at her as carelessly as if he hadn't felt the need to think about what it implied, as if 'we' had been an accepted fact from the very beginning, that Lily would remember with the most about that day, long after it was gone, and long after all the finer details were blurred by the inconstant flux of human memory.

"I'm keeping it," she said.

He let out a breath. "Okay."

"It's not for any moral reason – I'm not against abortion, but I thought about my options for a week, and I can't – I know I can't go through that, and I – I want to keep it."

James nodded, though it was a long, drawn-out movement, as if he were underwater. His expression was unreadable. "Okay."

"But look, I just wanted you to know that you have a choice, okay?" she quickly continued. "I had a choice and I made it without you, and that's – well, it's not ideal – and I just wanted you to know that if this isn't what you want, like, it's unfair of me to just say wham, that's it, I'm keeping the baby and you have to do this and this and that, so be as involved or not involved as you like, that's completely up to—"

"Of course I'll be involved."

Her heart squeezed itself. "I don't want you to feel like I've pressured you."

"It's nothing to do with that," he said, sounding almost annoyed that she would suggest it. There was something in his expression – the determined set of his jaw, perhaps, or the way he'd caught her gaze – that she hadn't seen all those weeks ago at the pub. "You haven't. I wanted you to keep it. I want to be involved."

"You really don't have to decide right away," she reminded him. "I didn't, I took a whole week—"

"That's fine, if that's what you needed to do, but I don't need to think about it," he said stubbornly. "If you're telling me there's a baby – my baby – then I'm its dad."

She felt as if every emotion that had wrestled for dominance in the cavernous arena that had become her mind – fear, shame, uncertainty – had ceased to fight and grown still, waiting with baited breath for something big to climb into the ring and knock them all aside, while her eyes stung in anticipation of tears and the rain danced hard against the window, demanding to be heard, and she noticed all of a sudden that the winter sun had slipped away from them, leaving the whole room dark.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Really sure? You don't want to take any time?"

"This isn't like trying to tattoo your arse when you're drunk," he said. "I don't think there'll come a point in the future where I sit down and think, shit, I really regret being there for my child for all these years."

"What if they wind up an axe murderer?"

"Oh." He blinked. "Well, then I'll just blame Mary, I suppose."

Lily meant to laugh, but it didn't come out like that. Relief had hit her like oncoming traffic, clearing pathways through anxiety and fear like little golden threads of magic, bleeding all together in one overwhelming cocktail, and there was nowhere for that feeling to go but out.

Instead of laughing, she started to cry.

"'Kay," she said, though it was barely a word, more a high pitched squeak. Tears brimmed up and out, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

"Have I upset you?"

"No."

"You're sure about that?"

She nodded, rather frantic in her movement. "It's just I really wanted you to say that and I didn't want to ask and I feel like, I feel—"

But the rest was constricted by a tightness in her throat, and she sloped forwards, her face pressed into her hands, eyes screwed tight against the outside world. She was crying, not the way she'd cried in her room - with hard, hopeless dry sobs that tore strips from her chest - but with far too much feeling, and hot, cleansing tears that scrubbed the grime from her tired soul.

She heard a movement from his side of the room, and then James was standing in front of her.

"C'mere," he said, and held his hand out. "Hugs help."

She looked up at him and shook her head. Through her watery eyes, his lovely face had grown a little blurry. "It's okay, you don't have to—"

"I just found out that I'm having a kid, Lily," he told her. "I need one too. Come on."

With a sniffle, Lily placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet, then he drew her into his arms, into a hug that meant every bit of itself, full and close and achingly reassuring, one that wrapped her up in warmth, rocked her gently from side to side as if to lull her to sleep, while she laid her cheek against his chest and let her tears fall without shame and felt, finally, like some of the weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"I really didn't want to do this alone," she muttered into his shirt.

"You don't have to, it's okay," he said softly, and rubbed circles in her back. "Everything's going to be okay."

For a snapshot of a moment, she believed him.

"So, do you have any appointments lined up that I need to know about?"

"One at the minute," she said, tapping the cabinet door with her heel. "The GP referred me to a midwife at the Rosie, so I've got an appointment with her on Monday the 11th, and I have to book in a bunch of screening tests to make sure the baby isn't at risk of inheriting certain disorders - which reminds me, you're not a genetic carrier for any known conditions, are you?"

"Does being very handsome count?"

Lily snorted.

"In that case, none that I know of," he said, and dropped a teabag each into two oversized mugs. "What time's your appointment?"

"11am."

"I'll probably drive up Sunday night, then. Monday morning traffic can be a pain."

"You don't have to come—"

"I do, actually."

"To every appointment?"

"Yup." He flicked on the kettle and turned towards her, knocking his hip against the counter's edge. "Short of actually giving birth for you, which I physically can't do, I'm doing everything, so you'd better get used to the sight of my face."

She smiled at him. "Lucky for me, I like the sight of your face."

"Cool. I like yours, even when you're all red and puffy."

"I guess our fondness for each other's faces might have been a contributing factor to winding up pregnant."

"Mystery solved!" he cried, and grinned at her. He had a smile that could have made a weaker person drop dead from the sheer gorgeousness of it all. "Do you take sugar?"

"Not normally, but I'm going to get fat anyway, so you might as well give me a spoonful."

Lily, as it turned out, had been hoarding a lot of pent-up tears which had kept themselves cordoned away from the ones she'd cried since she'd learned of her pregnancy, and James had been wonderfully patient about it while she let them all go. It had taken quite a while, and a fair bit of hugging, and when her eyes had finally dried, the only thing for it was a nice cup of tea. Remus and Sirius were still away, the latter having been taken out for an all-day pub crawl by Lily's housemate, but James was well acquainted with their kitchen.

Mary had texted earlier to say that Sirius had gotten so drunk by noon that he'd insisted upon taking the train, and then a bus, to the Sea Life Centre in Hunstanton, two-and-a-half hours away from Cambridge, because of a sudden, pressing desire to meet and converse with a blacktip reef shark, who he claimed would understand him on many primal levels.

As a result, Mary had also sent her several photos of seahorses and terrapins, as well as a promise to garrote James with her Lara Croft braid if he didn't want to step up for the baby.

That, thankfully, didn't seem as if it was going to be an issue, because he was wonderful. Better than she could have hoped. She felt as if he'd reached right into her chest, clamped his fist around that confounded knot of worry chest and yanked it out, leaving her with a feeling of blessed relief - even if it was bound to return at some point - because she wasn't alone, and her baby was their baby, and because Remus was right, and he was a bloody good bloke.

"Do you know what you're going to do about uni?" James asked her, once he'd made their tea and handed her a mug. He leaned backwards against the fridge to drink his, with one leg crossed in front of the other. "You can finish out the year, can't you?"

"I could," she allowed. "But I don't know if that's practical. My sister and I inherited some money when my parents died, and that's been covering my tuition and my rent, but I don't have a lot left and most of my spare funds come from weekend work and whatever I can save working during holidays, so I was going to get a student loan for my PhD. Now I'm thinking it might be better to drop out and get a job so I can save a bit more and get some maternity pay, if I'm really lucky?"

"So, you wouldn't finish your undergrad?"

"I could cross my fingers and hope to go back to it, eventually. It's not ideal, and a PhD is out of the question, but what can you do? The baby's got to come first."

"But you don't have to decide right now, do you?" he said, with a frown. "I mean, you could give it a couple of months, maybe? I'm making decent enough money, so I can help you out if you need it."

"I can't ask you to do that, and I'm not going to."

"You're not asking if I'm offering."

"When it comes to getting stuff for the baby, yeah, I think we should split it 50/50, but I'm not going to let you pay for stuff for me, okay?" She lifted her mug to her lips and took as generous a mouthful as she could without burning her tongue. "Thank you so much for offering, though, honestly, it's incredibly sweet and kind of you."

James sighed, and ruffled his messy black hair with his free hand. "I know I'm not entitled to an opinion—"

"Actually, your opinion is the only one I care about right now."

"Really?"

"Of course, you're my baby's father," she reminded him. "And I'm not saying this just to make you feel like I'm including you, or something, I have no intention of listening to what you say and then ignoring it - if anything is going to affect the baby, I want us to be able to make decisions together. So please, feel free to have opinions because I'm dying to hear all of them."

"Alright," he said, looking especially chuffed, which she found especially heartwarming. "In that case, I really think you should finish the year out."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Because it's important to you, and because somebody's got to teach our baby how to follow their dreams, and mostly because once the baby comes, if it looks anything like me, it'll be so adorable that you won't want to leave it, and you might never go back to uni."

Lily laughed, shaking her head from side to side. "You're something else, Potter, did you know that?"

"By 'something else,' I assume you mean 'perfect,' right?"

"What?"

"That's what you said earlier."

"I did say that," she owned. "I said that exactly. You got me."

He smiled at her. "I got you."

It was amazing, that he could make her feel so fluttery despite the baby-sized bomb she'd dropped on them both, even more so that they could smile and laugh and talk about it as if they weren't potentially setting out on a one-way trip to disaster.

She set her tea down and pushed away from the counter, so that she was standing in the centre of the tiny kitchen, within arm's reach of almost everything she could see, including James himself.

"I won't drop out," she assured him. "Not right now, anyway. I'll take a couple of months and see how things progress, yeah?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Also." Her face was starting to heat up. "About the last time I saw you, I really need to apologise—"

James's eyes widened. "Seriously, don't worry about—"

"No, but, the thing is, Remus said you thought I didn't want to see you—"

"You didn't owe me anything, it's really not a big—"

"Could you please let me explain myself?" she implored, and reached out to lay a hand on his arm, while seemed to silence him most effectively. "Please? Because I did really like you, honestly, but my parents were super religious - I mean, hardcore Catholic, church every Sunday and weekly confessions and all of that stuff - and even though I'm not, I was basically raised on guilt and shame, and I had all these stupid ideas in my head about how I'd let my mum down and how you wouldn't respect me because I'd somehow cheapened myself, which is stupid, I know, but you're the only one-night stand I've ever had and the second person I've slept with ever, so that's where my head was at when I went sprinting out of there, when honestly I feel like I should have pulled a sickie and stayed and had sex with you twenty more times."

As she'd been talking, James's face had split into the widest grin she'd ever seen. "Twenty more times?"

"I mean, at least. You were supposed to be leaving later that day."

"I would have made Peter take the train, if you'd asked me to stay," he informed her. "Also, same on the one-night stand front."

"Pardon?"

"I'm just like you, never had one before."

"Are you serious?"

"Does that seem hard to believe?"

"I mean, a little?" she said, her forehead wrinkled in bewilderment. "But only because you're so bloody gorgeous that women must be throwing themselves at you all the time."

He gave a short, loud laugh. "They really don't."

"Well, that is utterly bonkers, because - I mean, when I told you that you were the fittest guy I'd ever met, that wasn't hyperbole, or me being an idiot drunk, I am literally so attracted to you that it's absurd."

"And what about you?" he said, gesturing towards her. "You're like a bloody goddess or something, descending from the astral plane to grace us foolish mortals with your presence. Are you even real?"

"See, you only say that because you have no idea how much of a mess I really am."

"And you only think I'm irresistible to women because you've never heard me strike out with a terrible pun."

"You make puns?"

"All the time. You'll hate it, believe me."

He smiled at her and she smiled back, two idiots finding sunshine in the mess they'd made of each other, and Lily's heart felt full.

"So," she said, swaying gently from side to side. "We like each other."

"Yes."

"But we're having a baby."

"Also true."

"And that means..."

"Pressure," James supplied. "A lot of pressure."

"Especially this early on," she added, nodding away like an enthusiastic, rosy-cheeked ventriloquist's puppet. "Because on one hand it's like, what if we start dating and it turns out that we're not right for each other, so we split up and it's all awful but we've got a child to consider so we can't get a clean break? Or, what if we are right for each other but the relationship is instantly under too much scrutiny because we can't stop thinking about the baby instead of what we need?"

"You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?"

"A little obsessively," she admitted, and gave him a feeble wave. "Hi there, my name is Lily Evans and I might be obsessed with you."

"Oh," he said, grinning widely. "Well, I'm James Potter, and you're all I've been thinking about for the past five weeks."

"Really?"

"Really," he repeated. "You have no idea."

Lily knew that she was blushing. She could feel the heat bloom in her cheeks and sweep across her chest, and her heart was thudding, and with James having so neatly done away with her earlier feelings of unease and terror, there wasn't much left to stand in the way of what was, undeniably, her very close proximity to a man to whom she was so intensely attracted, she could feel a tangible electricity between their bodies.

"We probably shouldn't have sex in our friends' kitchen," she said quickly.

"Yeah," he agreed. "No. Not a good idea, all things considered."

"I mean, we haven't even figured out where we stand—"

"And Remus has a heart condition," James added. "Imagine if he walked in—"

"He'd die of shock, we can't take that risk—"

"I mean, we're not animals—"

"I'm sure we can control ourselves for one bloody evening."

"Besides," said James, and pointed to her stomach. "Look what happened when we didn't."

"I mean, I think what really matters here is that we know we both want to—"

"Oh, yeah, definitely, I mean, I'm thinking about you naked right now."

"—but we are rational human beings, and we're capable of keeping our hands off each other."

"Absolutely," said James.

"Fantastic," Lily seconded. "High five?"

"Up top!" said James brightly, and they slapped their palms together. "I'm so glad that we avoided having sex."

"You're being sarcastic, aren't you?"

"Yep."

She laughed at that, as did he, and moved away to her side of the kitchen again, which was probably for the best. Lily had thought, rather naively, that carrying his baby would act as a powerful dampener on her baser urges, but if anything, she was more attracted to James now than she had been in October.

"So, what are we then," she said. "If the time's not right to be a couple but we can't be in the same room without wanting to tear each other's clothes off?"

James shrugged. "We're... friends, I suppose? Except I don't want to be just friends, either."

"Right," she said, turning the word over in her mind, and finding she didn't like the way it sounded. "Neither do I."

"Then, how about this?" he suggested. "For now we're just friends, but, neither of us is seeing anyone else, and we spend this time now getting to know each other better, so that at some point down the line, if we feel like we're right for each other—"

"We make a go of it then," Lily finished, beaming. "That's perfect!"

"You think?"

"Yes," she said emphatically. "You're a genius."

"I think you're the genius, Ms. Law Degree."

"Either way, the kid is definitely going to have brains."

"Heaps and heaps of them," James agreed. "Well done us."

"Yeah," said Lily, a little breathlessly, and picked up her nearly-cold tea to take a sip. "Well done us."

Once everything had been talked out, leaving them with nothing to do but sit and stare at each other, it was getting late, and James – confessing to a desire to prevent her from leaving just yet – suggested getting food and pretending that life was normal for the rest of the night. Finding herself unexpectedly hungry for the first time in days, and in no mood to be apart from him, Lily agreed, so they ordered a Chinese, crashed out on the sofa and switched on Sirius's massive, overcompensating telly while they ate their special fried rice and prawn crackers. Remus had texted to say that he was having drinks at the flat of some book club chums to give them both some space, while Sirius, according to Mary's last text, had been forcibly ejected from the Sea Life Centre for yelling at a penguin to meet him outside because it had 'looked at him funny.'

"Okay, here's the thing," said James, once the film they'd been watching - a recording of Skyfall that Remus-or-Sirius had saved on the Sky box - had some to an end. "Since this probably isn't the last time we watch telly together, I have to be honest and tell you that I really can't do Strictly Come Dancing, or—"

"—X Factor?" Lily chimed in. "Oh God, me neither!"

"I can't stand reality television, honestly," he continued. While Lily was curled sideways with her legs tucked beneath her bottom, he was sitting normally, with his torso twisted towards her and one arm stretched across the back of the couch. "Except for Judge Judy. Also Masterchef."

"Or Masterchef: The Professionals."

"Even Celebrity Masterchef. I'll watch that if there's nothing else on."

"Everything under the Masterchef umbrella, really."

"And The Great British Bake Off."

"Well, obviously, that goes without saying."

James grinned widely at her. "So we like the same shows, that's the important stuff out of the way."

"We're going to smash this co-parenting thing."

"Unless our kid grows up and decides to audition for X Factor, in which case we can safely say we failed."

"Do you think that'll still be going by the time the baby's old enough?"

"I think that by the time our kid is old enough to audition, Simon Cowell will have found a way to transfer his consciousness into a semi-sentient cyborg," said James. "So, probably."

"I'll be okay with that only if semi-sentient cyborg Cowell faces off in an epic, yet unscripted battle with Sharon Osbourne, who at that point will be a severed head in a fishbowl attached to a giant robot body, as a really grabby end to the series."

James opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something brilliant, but they were interrupted by the arrival of Sirius, who had somehow gotten through the front door without making a sound, but crashed into the living room as if he was performing a drug raid, veered sideways and stumbled right into the arm of the unoccupied sofa.

"Alright, mate?" said James, twisting around to greet him. "Heard you were bothering the Hunstanton sharks again."

Sirius spun around on unsteady feet and peered at them in bewilderment, his body swaying slightly, as if he was being buffeted by a gentle breeze. The only explanation for his hangdog appearance was that he had carried on drinking heavily after being kicked out of the aquarium. "Oh."

"Nice to see you, too."

"It's you two."

"At least you can still count," said James. "You look a bit squiffy."

"Since when were you coming up?"

"It was an impulse visit."

"And this is happening now?" Sirius flicked a finger between the two of them. "You and her? Out of nowhere?"

James turned to look at her, and she shook her head mid-yawn, hiding her mouth with her hand. They were closing in on midnight and she was starting to feel drowsy, so she wasn't in the right mindset to make any grand announcements. Nor was Sirius, who was clearly beyond trashed, in any fit state to hear one.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," said James to Sirius. "And go for breakfast or something, yeah?"

"S'pose." Sirius blinked sleepily at Lily. "Mary told me off."

She raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Penguin was giving me attitude, needed sorting out," he muttered, watching her beneath hooded, suspicious eyes. "She says I was a prick to you."

"Was he?" said James.

Lily shook her head. "Not really."

"I was a prick," Sirius insisted.

"Yeah, alright, he was a prick."

"James normally sleeps on the sofa," he continued. "But y'can have my bed. Both of you. As recon - recompense."

"Um," said James.

"But no sex," Sirius finished, and pointed sternly at the wall, apparently under the impression that he had directed his finger towards one of them. He turned and staggered off towards the kitchen. "I run a sex-free operation."

Lily snorted, but James was looking at her worriedly, and didn't appear to have heard what Sirius said.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" he said. "My car's just outside, so I could - or you could just—"

"Stay over?" Lily finished. "I don't mind. Actually, I'd rather just stay here, I'm pretty pooped."

"And you're okay sharing a bed?"

"Under normal circumstances, I'd consider it a risk, but my pregnant ass just ate way too much Chinese food, and I don't want to go into the details of what's going on in my body right now, but it's far from sexy, so I think I'm good."

"Alright," he agreed. "You want to go now?"

From the kitchen, she heard Sirius make a foul, choking sound, and spit something into the sink. "Please."

They were just being friends, but James took her by the hand anyway, and lead her up the stairs and into Sirius's room, which was just as Lily had imagined it would be. There were clothes strewn everywhere, faded old posters of frightening-looking bands taped untidily to the walls, what was most certainly a collection of bongs pushed up against the wardrobe, and most worrying of all, one of Lily's own drawings of his naked form taking pride of place above his bed - worrying because Lily had no idea how he'd gotten his hands on it in the first place.

"If the Chinese hadn't put me off sex," she said, pointing to the drawing. "That certainly would have."

"It didn't before," James reminded her.

"No, you're right. It must really be the food," she said, with a laugh, then frowned as something occurred to her. "Oh."

"What's up?"

"I don't have pyjamas or anything."

"That's alright," said James, and yanked his t-shirt over his head. He held it out towards her. "Here, wear this. I'll sleep in my pants."

"Thank you," she said, and took it from him. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, no problem. The alternative is wearing something of Sirius's, and I wouldn't subject you to that."

She undressed as quickly as possible - James very graciously turned away to give her some privacy - and pulled on his t-shirt, smoothing the stag print at the front over her flat stomach, which by some insane, life-altering miracle, would soon expand to house their baby. That didn't seem as daunting as it had when she'd woken up that morning.

James was already undressed in bed, lying flat on his back with the covers pulled up almost to his chin, and she slipped in beside him.

It should have felt strange, to curl up for the night with a man she barely knew, without an abundance of absinthe-laced cocktails to form the basis of an excuse, but it didn't.

"Goodnight, then," she said.

"Goodnight."

Then, on an absolute whim, and without really understanding why - perhaps because he had been perfect all day, or perhaps, simply, because she wanted to be close - Lily shifted on her side towards him, and curled her arm around his waist.

"I thought we were just being friends?" he said, though his arm wrapped around her shoulders immediately, and he turned his head to drop a chaste kiss upon her hair.

"We are," she muttered into his chest, snuggling closer still. "Friends can cuddle in bed at times of great emotional upheaval. It's in the rules."

"What rules?"

"The comprehensive set I'll write tomorrow."

"Oh, I see."

"I'll email them to you at my earliest convenience."

"Very industrious of you. That's top-notch parenting," he said, his voice thick through a yawn. "Night, Lily."

"Night, James."

He shifted beneath the blankets, and though her tummy was turned to face him, he moved his free hand to the curve of her waist and gave it a gentle pat. "Goodnight, baby."

Through the gap between Sirius's curtains, in the inky, star-dotted sky, the rain had finally stopped.