I'm happy. For the first time in I don't know how long, I'm actually happy. Just genuine, pure happiness.

My hormones aren't insanely out of whack right now, which is very nice. And things between James and I…well, we still aren't technically 'together' but we really might as well be.

Now we really only have a few things left to take care of before the little one arrives. Which, by the way, is in about three and a half weeks.

And I'm kind of terrified.

James says it's understandable, that he's scared too about the fact that we're about to become parents and everything. But that's not really it. I mean, yes I'm scared about that, but that's not my immediate fear.

I'm scared about actually giving birth. If those Braxton Hicks things were anything to go by, this is going to be horribly painful. I already knew it would hurt, but since my due date is only a few weeks away, I'm starting to think about just how much it's going to hurt.

"Lily!" I hear a sing-song type voice call my name and I roll my eyes, albeit with a smile.

"Sirius!" I call back in the same voice. I hear his footsteps coming down the hall and he enters my room with a smile, plopping down on my bed next to me.

"So, what's up Lilykins?"

My brow furrows – he shows up at my place and wants to know what's up like I invited him here? I'm confused, to say the least.

"James said you wanted to talk to me," he explains. I close my eyes and massage my temples, trying to think of what I could possibly have to tell Sirius.

Nothing. I come up with nothing.

I shrug. "I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you Sirius, I really don't."

Sirius shrugs as well. "It's okay. We haven't really talked or hung out in awhile anyways. What's going on with you? Other than the obvious, of course."

And he and I actually have a decent conversation, from everything on the war to the Ministry to the Tornadoes' chances at the Cup this year. Actually, that last one was more of Sirius rambling until I reminded him that I don't pay the slightest bit of attention to Quidditch.

Finally, Sirius asks the question everyone has been asking for quite some time.

"What are you going to name it?"

To which I sigh and say, "I haven't got the slightest freaking clue."

And unfortunately, that's true. James has been really busy lately (although I don't know what with), and so we haven't had time to sit down and think about it. I had some ideas for girl names, but since we know now that it's a boy…I got nothing. I have an idea for his middle name, but I don't want to say anything about it to anyone yet.

Sirius and I talk for awhile, and then Claudia shows up and joins us. It's dark outside before I realize that James hasn't come home yet.

I stand up – somehow – and begin pacing slowly, both hands rubbing my belly. Sirius and Claudia both assure me that he's fine, but in times like this, it just makes me nervous, and he knows that.

He shows up at about nine-thirty, and after hugging him, I hit him in the chest.

"Ow!" he says, rubbing the spot. "What was that for?"

"What do you think?" I reply, hands on my hips. "You come home nearly four hours late, and apparently Sirius and Claudia were here to distract me. Start explaining, Potter."

James sighs. "I wanted to surprise you with it after he was born, but I also value my life and I know that it's in danger right now."

My hands fall off my hips. "Wh-what? In danger? From who? Is it You-Know-Who?"

"No," he says, rolling his eyes. "I meant from you, genius. It was a joke that you would kill me if I don't show you what kept me away so late tonight."

"Oh."

James smiles at me and bends down to plant a quick kiss on my lips, making me blush. "Would you like to see?"

I nod, and he smiles before ushering me to my room and ordering me to change out of my pajamas, which I practically live in nowadays. I put on my favorite pair of maternity pants and an overlarge shirt of James's that I have enlarged even more.

When I get into my living room, James is waiting by the fireplace with what appears to be a blindfold in his hands. Smiling, he motions me over and turns me around so I'm facing away from him.

Apparently it's such a surprise that I have to Floo there blindfolded.

Have you ever done that before? And while you were pregnant? It's not fun, let me tell you. I almost gave James a nice view of what I ate for dinner, but in reverse. And we have both gotten used to me not throwing up as much, so I'm sure I wasn't the only one relieved when I didn't vomit.

We're in a house, that much I can tell, but I don't know whose and I don't know where. James is guiding me around various objects and up and down a few steps, until I hear him opening a door.

The July air hits my face and I inhale deeply, smiling. We walk a little further out and then James carefully turns me around and takes off the blindfold.

I find myself looking at a small little house surrounded by trees. It's quaint, and by turning my head I can see a few other small houses on either side. I turn to look at James, who is staring at me with an unreadable look on his face.

"Well," he says hesitantly, "what do you think?"

"It's a nice house," I say slowly, still not understanding what's going on.

"Do you want to see inside?" He still looks and sounds really unsure and nervous so I nod, even though I'm totally confused.

It's an even more adorable house on the inside. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms, with a small kitchen and living room.

"It's a lovely house James," I say as I peek into the smallest room, "but why are we here?"

"Well," he says, and I notice he's wringing his hands slightly. "I was really hoping you would like it because…well, because I kind of…bought it?"

I can feel my jaw drop, but that's honestly my only reaction.

"I know I should have talked to you first," he continues in a rush, "but it was too good of an offer to pass up, and I know you really like your flat, but I thought we might need more room when the baby comes. See," he ushers me down the hall and into the master bedroom, "this is your room, and when he's born, he can sleep in here with you for awhile. Then he can start sleeping," he leads me to the smallest room, "in here. I would rather give him the slightly larger room, but I figured you would want him as close as possible to you. And then I would take the last room." He gestures to the end of the hall, then turns to look at me nervously.

I still have no idea what to say. Because really, what do you say when the father of your child – who you technically aren't even dating – buys a house for the three of you?

Since I can't think of anything to say, I do the only other thing that pops into my mind.

I will give you three guesses. If you need that many then…I don't know what to say.

But if your first guess was that I kissed him, then ding ding ding we have a winner!

And it was a proper kiss, not like all those sweet little pecks we've shared over the last month and a half or so. A full on snogging session, only stopped because we both needed oxygen and the baby kicked us.

Somehow we made it home and onto the couch. After a little more kissing (I really wish I wasn't pregnant right now, just so we could have sex), I finally bring up what has been bothering me for a few weeks now.

"What are we going to name it?"

James sits back and studies me. "I don't know," he replies slowly, "I guess I hadn't really thought much about it."

"Well, shouldn't we be thinking about it? I mean, he'll be here in a few weeks or so."

James scrubs a hand over his face – which means he's thinking hard – and is silent for a moment. "Is he going to have my last name?"

The idea startles me. Not that the baby would have James's last name, but that James was worried that he wouldn't. It had never crossed my mind for it to be Baby Evans or Baby Evans-Potter. I had always just assumed it would be Potter, and nothing else.

"Of course," I say softly. "I figured that's what you would want."

"But is it what you want?"

I smile and nod, and James smiles as well.

"How about Andrew?"

I shake my head. "I dated a guy named Andrew once – he was a real ass. Blake?"

This time James shakes his head. "Doesn't feel quite right. Christopher?"

"Nah. David?"

"Nope. Evan?"

"Fred?"

"George?"

"Harold?"

"What kind of name is Harold? Honestly, Lils, don't traumatize the kid. Ivan?"

"Oh, like Ivan is any better. John?"

"If his name was going to start with a J, it should be James." I shake my head, and he rolls his eyes and shoves me playfully. "Fine, then Kevin?"

"Lucas?"

"Morgan?"

"Nathan?"

"Oswald?"

"Oswald? Can you think of nothing better, James? Percival?"

"Quidditch?"

I smack him lightly on the arm. "We are not naming our son Quidditch, or anything related to the sport. Ronald?"

This time James looks amused and arches his eyebrow. "Ronald? Why would we put that unfortunate name on a poor defenseless child? Sirius?"

"Ha, I don't think so. Thomas?"

"Voldemort? No, don't worry, I'm just kidding!" I smack James on the arm again, only slightly harder this time. It was funny, I will admit, but still so very inappropriate considering the times we live in.

"Wilson?"

"Xander?"

"Young'un?"

"Creative Lily, I'll give you credit for that one."

"Why thank you James."

But still we had no name for our child. What a way to start off being parents – not even knowing what to call our kid before it comes into the world.

Since that attempt was a total bust, we decide that we should wait until he's born. Once we see him, we'll know…we hope.

And if we don't, then James has already suggested we just call him 'kid' to which I buried my head in my hands. James Potter being a father is going to be the most interesting thing I've ever seen.

We spend the next two weeks gradually moving our things out of my flat and into the house. I just can't help but fall completely in love with it as we set things up. Well, mainly as James sets things up. He won't let me do anything really, other than 'supervise and direct' – he doesn't want me to go into early labor.

Me, on the other hand? Well, I kind of want to go into early labor just to get it over with. I've enjoyed parts of being pregnant, but I would like to go back to having a semi-normal body and appetite and having my hormones get back to how they used to be.

But James is insistent that I don't go into labor before my October fourth due date. As if it's really up to me. When the little one decides he wants to come out, he's gonna come out, and there isn't much either of us can do to stop him.

Finally, everything is moved in and situated. James even surprised me with a fully stocked nursery, painted blue and everything. Admittedly, the actual crib is in my room, along with a rocking chair, so that he can be near me for the first few weeks or so.

James places my last box on my bed – king size, by the way, and so comfortable – and straightens, inspecting my room. I've hung up a few pictures from Hogwarts, mainly of me and Claudia or me and my parents. There's even a picture of James and I from about two months ago.

He smiles when he sees it and turns to face me. "I like what you've done with the place Lil."

"Thank you," I reply, and scan the room myself. "I guess I just have to unpack this last box and then-"

"Um, Lily?" James is looking at me strangely.

"What?"

He points to my pant leg, where a trail of liquid has become evident.

"That's weird," I begin, and then feel a downward pressure on my abdomen. It's like the Braxton Hicks, but slightly different. I look up at James, my eyes wide.

"Holy shit."

I'm sure you guys hate me - first I don't give you the extra chapter I promised, then I leave you with this cliffhanger...I'm sorry! :) I hope y'all understand when I say life has been pretty crazy lately. I have another test coming up and several assignments, so that has been where my head is at. But I hope you enjoyed the attempt at naming Harry, and the rest of the chapter as well.
Review? If it's not too much to ask? Please?