A/N: Hi! It's been a while since I've posted something but I have a lot of ideas for this universe so hopefully I'll be able to post pretty frequently. This will be less of a story and more of a series of oneshots that all take place in the months preceding Harry's birth. It's going to be domestic fluff with some angst and humor. Hope you enjoy! The title of the story and each chapter come from "The State of Grace" by Taylor Swift.
It's raining and he comes home with a cat.
He'd rushed off, earlier that day, with a quick kiss and a promise to be home as soon as possible – nothing too reckless, he'd insisted, just needed to go out one last time, Evans, had one last important thing to do before they "closed shop," as he'd put it. Which was to say, before they officially went in hiding.
Thinking back, Lily isn't sure what exactly she'd expected.
He's shucking off his shoes, wet and muddy, when she comes down from the bedroom to greet him; and it isn't until she's standing at the foot of the staircase that she notices the tiny, fury head peaking out at her from under James' coat, wide eyed and curious.
Before she can do anything else, a mighty gasp escapes her and she exchanges a look with James, whose eyes are filled with as much mirth as hers are with surprise. She reaches out to him the same time he does her and soon her arms are filled with a warm, soft body that curls into her almost immediately.
"Oh she's wonderful," she says, hugging the small, black kitten closer to her chest while James rids himself of his coat. "Is she from Magical Menagerie?"
James shakes his head. "Muggle shop. Figured it'd be safer, no one there to recognize me." He's still wet when he comes over to wrap his arms around her waist for a kiss but his usually untidy hair is sticking adorably to his forehead so she leans into him and lets it slide this one time.
"She's wonderful," Lily repeats when they break apart because it's true and because she honestly hasn't felt this elated in weeks.
He smiles at her widely. "Didn't think I'd let you stay holed up in here with no one but me for company, did you, Evans?"
She snorts, and then quips, "Absolutely not. I'd have never married you if I thought you to be so cruel." James, in turn, places a hand over his heart and looks to the ceiling mournfully, and she can't help but laugh and laugh because he's her James and she couldn't love him enough.
"You know," he says a little while later when they are facing one another in bed, trying to come up with names, the kitten settled snuggly in between them, "I also thought…I thought it might be good practice." His voice is soft and sleepy and hesitant but his eyes unnervingly intense.
Her stomach twists. She knows exactly what he means – exactly – but she hears herself ask him anyway.
"Well…if we can keep a cat alive," he continues, "we might be able to do the same for a baby."
"'Might' being the operative word," she says, but it's without her usual fire. She's felt burnt out a lot lately.
He closes his eyes, freeing her from the gaze she wishes she couldn't meet. "That's why I said it."
She doesn't speak until his breathing has slowed and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's asleep. "James…are we really doing this?"
She waits and thinks, perhaps, he has fallen asleep because it takes him a moment to reply, "I guess there's still time to change our mind." His eyes are still closed and he lets out a laugh. "Although I'd be awfully cross that I carried all those boxes by myself for nothing."
Lily hesitates and bites into her bottom lip, ashamed and wishing that she could join in with his laughter but she just can't, not this time. "I didn't mean going into hiding –"
"Like I said, there's still time to change our mind." He's looking at her meaningfully now with that same intense expression and suddenly her throat feels tight and thick and her eyes are wet and –
"I just feel awful." And then that's it, she's crying with full force and she's powerless to stop it because she does feel awful about all of it, about everything. The kitten bolts upright and looks at her with concern and alarm and Lily wants to tell her she's okay but she doesn't know if she really is.
But then James – warm, wonderful James – takes her face in his hands and the gesture feels so strong and grounding. "Lily, Lily, hey. Listen to me," he wipes away some of the wetness on her cheeks, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
She sniffs. And she pauses. "I don't know if I want to."
He nods, caresses her cheek. "Okay…okay. That's okay." And the way he says it, she feels like he means it.
One of James' hands finds hers in the following silence and she laces their fingers together. Her breaths are still shaky, but his grasp is steady and firm and she is grateful for it. She uses her free hand to stroke the kitten, to hopefully soothe and reassure her, and James reaches to do the same; she purrs and purrs and purrs until her eyes droop and the only sound that can be heard is all three of their breathing.
"I like the name Figaro," Lily finally says, breaking the silence with her raw, raspy voice.
She looks up at James in time to see his eyebrows knitted in confusion. "For the baby?"
"No, the cat." And she can't help it – she laughs. James immediately joins her.
"Well that's a relief – thought for a second you'd maybe gone mad."
"Don't be ridiculous, you know I am."
He nudges her nose with his. "S'okay. I fancy you anyway."
And then she's wearing the widest grin.
"You'd better."
She wakes up warm and underneath James' arm like she does most mornings, but she can't kiss him awake as part of their usual routine because his face is turned from hers. And so instead she gives his bicep a loving squeeze, inciting him to stir sleepily, and thus jostle the kitten curled atop his bare back.
Figaro is awake now, but James still isn't.
"Wanna help me wake up Daddy?" The word slips from Lily's lips before she can even register it and it startles her – startles her that it was so easily accessible in her early morning haze and that it felt so…so natural and right. In a slight panic, she directs her gaze towards James to make sure that he hasn't suddenly woken up and heard what she's just called him, and is relieved to see that his breathing is still slow and deep.
It's fine. He didn't hear. Not that it would have been the worst thing if he had, but…she doesn't know. She hasn't known much of anything since they learned about the baby and that was too many sleepless nights ago. She isn't yet showing and they haven't even talked about their baby in concrete terms, but she already feels like this can't be their life; pregnant and not even twenty – this is something that happens to other people. But it's happening to her. And to James. But they could change that. If they wanted to.
A small voice inside her says that maybe she would have already done it if she wanted to. That maybe they wouldn't have taken a hiatus from the Order. That maybe they wouldn't have gone into hiding. And maybe that voice is right.
But that isn't enough, she decides. It isn't enough to simply do nothing, to ignore this and to let their baby grow and grow until it's too late for her to do anything about it and the decision is already made for her. Because if she's going to be someone's mum, Lily's going to choose to be.
And so maybe that's why she does it. Maybe that's why when James finally stirs and stretches and blinks minutes later with his wild hair and sleepy grin – James so young and reckless and wholehearted – she says:
"You can name the baby." His movements come to a halt; he stares at her, and he waits. She's suddenly scared to say more but then Figaro lightly meows and for whatever reason it feels like an urging to continue.
"It's only fair since I named the cat."
And then an understanding passes between them.
"Yeah?" He raises his arm and beckons for her to come closer. She shifts and settles when they are lips-to-lips, nose-to-nose, and eye-to-eye. Figaro forces her way into the space beneath their chins but no one really minds because they have room in their lives for a cat and maybe they can – no, they will – find a way to fit in a baby too.
So Lily nods. Then she kisses him and she nods again. "Yeah."
He touches his forehead to her, gives her waist a quick squeeze, and she knows they can do this. She doesn't know how or why so she'll call it a gut feeling. And so she closes her eyes and she imagines that James does the same. She's about to slip back into a light, comfortable sleep when she remembers something:
"…Except I reserve complete vetoing power and I get to pick the middle name."
She feels the rumble of James' laughter against her skin and Figaro starts to shift around. "Of course you do, Evans."
A/N: Thanks for reading - please review!
~Jess