A/N: Amy's POV, this chapter is dedicated to avid reader and reviewer, sarahmichellegellarfan1. I hope you enjoy the switch to Amy! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter.

-C

It had finally arrived.

It was a bit of a lonely hen do with just Lily and me sitting there on the floor of our room at the Potter Manor, but we weren't going to let that stop us.

Entirely.

"It's a shame you can't drink," she said sadly, glancing at my stomach. "I mean, I know you said I could, but it wouldn't be fun if I was the only one drunk."

"You've said three times," I said, smirking slightly.

And she thought I honestly didn't know that she'd had a few drinks before I even got there.

"So, do you want to play a game or something?" Lily asked, giggling.

I wasn't sure what sort of game a drunk Lily would come up with, but I had a fairly distinct feeling that I didn't want to find out.

"Maybe we should start slow," I said, knowing that she'd be passed out within two hours anyway, so I had to keep her away from games for that long, at least.

"Fine," she said with a pout. "Was there anything to prepare for tomorrow we were going to do tonight?"

Marlene and I had planned the hen do so carefully before she died, but without her it didn't seem the same.

"Have you and James decided on your honeymoon?" I asked, getting up and looking at her trunk, making sure that she hadn't packed while drunk.

"Of course," she said with a laugh. "We're going to Paris. Isn't that romantic?"

I winced.

I'd been to Paris a time or two and had seen nothing romantic in it. It was dirty, it was full of very rude, inconsiderate people, and the sights weren't better than anything we had in London. If I were to visit a European city, for romance or otherwise, I'd go to Italy.

"That sounds lovely," I said, trying to think about what weather would be like in Paris in March. I fished through her trunk while she regaled me with her speculations on what the boys were doing right that very moment.

I didn't need her to speculate to know what they were up to. They were getting absolutely, incredibly pissed and I was sitting there ensuring that a drunk Lily had packed properly for her honeymoon.

It was official. I'd joined motherhood, and I was only just starting to show.

"Right," I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "You're taking a ferry, then?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Train, then ferry. Then train again. Are you taking the train?"

For my honeymoon, I assumed she meant.

"Yeah, we are," I said, mentally running through my list of things to consider. "Are you going to some sort of resort?"

"No, just a quiet place," she sighed. "James called to confirm things a couple of weeks ago. He's taking me to this great restaurant…"

"Your passports are all good?" I pressed.

She nodded.

"All our papers are in order," she muttered, glancing under the bed where I knew she'd hidden her flask. I looked away into the trunk again to gracefully give her an opportunity to sneak a drink.

"You know where the Embassy is?" I asked. "And the French Ministry?"

She raised an eyebrow when I turned around, the flask just peeking out from under the bed.

"Amy, we're going to France, not to Laos."

"Fair enough," I agreed. "But it's better to be safe. Pureblooded wizards from England holiday in France all the time…"

"Not in March," she snorted. "But yes, James knows where they both are. And before you ask, we have Muggle money."

Just to be sure, I went through her purse to find their train tickets, ferry tickets, her passport, the Muggle money she'd mentioned, numerous reservation confirmations, a vial of contraceptive potion and a vial of pain potion, presumably for travel sickness.

I found myself ensuring one last time that everything she would need was in the trunk before turning back to her.

"Okay, your hotel is definitely confirmed," I sighed. "Did you check the weather?"

"Yeah, it'll be cold at night but it's not supposed to rain," she muttered. She must have snuck another drink while I was in her purse.

"Okay, it looks like that's all set, then," I said, able to breath easily again. "Oh, stop being absurd and just pull out the stupid flask, Lily. I'm not judging you for drinking at your own hen do."

She blinked her big green eyes at me for a moment before she comprehended that I was giving her full permission to continue to consume alcohol unfettered.

"Right," she sighed, pulling out the flask and taking a long swig. "What do you suspect the boys are doing now?"

"Probably not going over packing and hiding flasks," I said with a hollow laugh, wondering if my own hen do was going to be this absurd.

Once she began to drink openly it did only take about an hour and a half for her to pass out and I passed the time by reading and satisfying myself with one more check of all the things both for the following morning and for their honeymoon. I sighed, looking at Lily, sprawled out on the floor in what must have been an uncomfortable sleeping position, so I levitated her onto her bed and tucked her in.

"Mmm, squash and peanuts," she muttered, and I tried not to snort with laughter as I inched away from her bed.

I crawled into my bed, wondering how silly she would feel in the morning, unable to recall what she had done. I would tell her the truth, of course, that she'd really done nothing of interest, and that no matter what the boys had done she at least had honor on her side.

Lily Evans, I thought as I closed my eyes, settling in for sleep. So pure and honor-bound that she couldn't even manage to have a proper hen do.

Of course, it was partly my fault for being pregnant, but it wasn't planned that way.

The following morning, Lily was the one waking me, of all things.

"Get off your arse, McAuley," she barked like James at his Quidditch players. "We haven't got any time to waste."

Of course, once we started the actual actions of the preparations, she began to get exceedingly nervous, so as we dressed her and did hair and make-up we talked about my wedding plans instead.

"We'll have to shop for my dress as soon as I get back from the honeymoon," she said. "Have you decided on a color you want me to wear?"

I shook my head.

"Blue or green, whatever you feel more comfortable in. I think we'll know when we see the dresses. Dumbledore says all of our paperwork is in order, and he's very excited to officiate for us."

"Did you choose a florist?" she asked before pressing her lips together to smooth the layer of lip gloss over the light lipstick she'd applied before it.

"Using the one you two are using," I said. "Probably the same blooms, too, but we're having them died blue. Lilies, Vandela roses. Just classic."

"Oh, and died blue?" Lily said happily. "That sounds lovely!"

She and I discussed the timeline of my wedding day, which would end up resembling Lily's quite a lot, not because I was too lazy to come up with my own order of events, but because we had very similar wedding tastes. I was putting a bit more emphasis on the cake cutting, not for any particular wedding reason, but because I happened to think that any cake was an important life event and ought to be treated as such.

We went downstairs at the appointed time and Mrs. Potter cooed over us, adjusting my dress briefly before ushering us out to the entrance to the ballroom.

Mr. Evans told his daughter how beautiful she looked before the doors opened, music came to us from where we stood in the doorway, and we began the procession. Guests looked at Lily in awe, whispering to each other about how beautiful she looked.

And she did, she looked positively radiant.

But there was at least one person in the ballroom not looking at Lily, and that was Sirius, whose eyes were glued to me from the moment I walked in, as my eyes were glued to him from the second the doors opened.

He looked gorgeous, in spite of his ridiculous pink tie. I was still shocked that Lily had gotten him to do that, but he didn't seem to care about the tie, his face beaming at me as I took my spot across from him. It was so very hard to pay attention to the ceremony as his gray eyes burned with desire.

"I now pronounce you bonded for life!"

My heart was pounding as Lily and James shared a public, meaningful, passionate kiss between us. I wanted to kiss Sirius, but he was too far away. I wanted Sirius to hold me, but he was on the other side of Lily and James.

At the reception, however, I got my wish. Sirius strayed not once from my side the whole day, his hand constantly on my waist, which was growing what felt like every day.

"I can't believe I've got the prettiest girl in England," he sighed, kissing my lips before holding up a fork laden with cake for me to eat off of.

He liked watching me eat, and I liked eating. Who was I to argue with it? Especially when he got just the properly organized mouthfuls of cake on each bite, with just the right amount of frosting.

He was wrong about that, though. Lily was very obviously the prettiest girl in England as far as anyone who saw her that day would be able to attest.

"Do you feel like dancing, or are you tired?" he asked when we'd finished our cake.

"I'd rather save my energy," I said with a bit of a smirk, and his eyes widened and he sat up a bit straighter.

Sirius was so much better to deal with when he knew sex was coming.

I did dance briefly, once with Remus and once with Sirius, but then I sat down, watching Sirius dance with Lily, making her laugh as he spun her.

"You look beautiful, Amy," Peter said, sitting down across from me at the table. I smiled at him.

"Thank you, Peter," I said happily. "The dress didn't come out fitting as well as we would have liked, but we were expecting me to be showing more than I am, so I guess that's a blessing and a curse."

"No, you look perfect," he said, his ears turning a bit red. Or had they been red when he sat down? I couldn't conjure up the memory to recall. His ears went red when he'd been drinking, so that was probably what I should attribute it to.

"Well, thank you, Peter," I said, laughing lightly. "I'm not foolish enough to argue with a well-intentioned compliment."

He blushed again, muttered something, and then he leaned forward looking at me with a strange expression.

Yeah, definitely drinking.

"Hey, Amy," Sirius said, coming up and taking my hands, grinning. "Let's go say goodnight to our lovely married couple and call it a night, shall we?"

"Sure," I said, letting him help me to my feet. "Nice to see you Peter. Don't stay out too late!"

Peter mumbled something else and I raised my eyebrows at Sirius and shrugged, following him over to Lily and James. We said our goodbyes, quick pictures were taken by someone in the Order, and Sirius took me home. We had to take the Floo because of how pregnant I was, but I found I didn't mind.

Sirius led me into our bedroom, pulling off his robes as he went, starting with the pink tie, which he proceeded to set on fire.

I giggled.

So that had been his prerogative all along.

"You have no idea how incredibly sexy you look right now," he growled.

I would never understand what he found sexy about my looking fat, but he seemed fascinated with me even more since I'd begun to show, and the bigger I got the more he wanted me. Considering how much he wanted me before I got pregnant, it was undoubtedly exhausting.

After the wedding, though, and having to see him looking so sexy the whole time, watching him watch me, and being plagued by pregnancy-induced hormones, I wanted him as badly as he seemed to want me.

I smiled at him, watching him pull off his robes, tossing them to the side. I unzipped my dress slowly as he watched with burning eyes. He then hastily began unbuttoning his shirt, which I came over to help him with. As I pushed it off his gorgeous shoulders he kissed me hungrily. I could taste cake and wine on his lips, and I was desperate for more. Perhaps it was partly because I hadn't tasted wine in months, or because the combination was just so deliciously perfect, or because he had pushed my dress off me and was touching me in the best possible way.

"Sirius," I moaned as he carefully lifted me and put me on the bed. "Sirius, I want you so much."

He groaned, moving to hover over me and kissing my breasts, then my swollen belly.

I shifted.

It was always a little uncomfortable when he did that. He was acknowledging our growing daughter before having sex with me. I wondered if she could hear things yet. Could she hear the intense cries of passion of her parents? Could she discern from the way he said my name that he was about to make love to me?

I didn't mind for too long, though, because Sirius had a way of making me forget that anything else in the world mattered beyond the way he touched me, the way our bodies fit together.

It was getting more and more logistically difficult to have sex the larger I got, but Sirius didn't seem discouraged by this. He had been doing actual research, reading magazines and constantly trying to find positions that made things more comfortable for me. We'd certainly gotten good at it, and I hardly felt any discomfort most times.

We'd used chairs, we'd had me on top (which was my personal favorite), we'd had me lie down at the foot of the bed while Sirius stood, we'd added multiple pillows carefully positioned all over the bed to help prop me properly, from behind with me facing the wall and both of us standing, doggy style (unsurprisingly Sirius's favorite), having me sitting on his lap and facing away from him, and on the kitchen counter.

"What are you feeling like tonight?" I asked, but he didn't answer, just kissed down the curve of my belly so that I could not see his head as it went between my legs.

We had sex in three different positions that night, and he spent all time not having sex in touching and holding and kissing me. We spooned when we were too tired to continue on through the night and he whispered, "Soon it's our turn."

It was flattering, how excited Sirius was getting about our impending marriage. I couldn't tell what made him more proud and pleased, the thought that I was going to have his baby or the thought that I was going to share his name.

"So it is," I sighed. "I hope you two didn't have too much fun on the stag night."

He laughed.

"I honestly don't remember. How was life sober?"

I groaned at him, smacking his chest playfully, and he just laughed.

"Lily was sneaking drinks from a flask until I told her to just drink it openly and she passed out not long after that. I went over her honeymoon preparations and double-checked her packing. I don't know when she'd started drinking, but there was a chance that she'd started before she'd finished packing and I didn't want her trying to be sensitive of me to cause problems on their honeymoon."

"Wow," he sighed. "I hope we have the baby before the wedding so you can have a bit of fun."

I didn't think that drinking and breastfeeding went together very well, but I wasn't about to tell Sirius that.

It was possible that I might have the baby before the wedding. I wasn't due for a week after the wedding date, according to my Healer and midwife, but having a child early wasn't unheard of, especially on the first one. Sirius would love that. He wanted the baby to come as soon as possible so he could start playing with it and spoiling it.

"I've started making the nursery," he said happily, and I knew it was time to commence the spoiling. I rolled my eyes.

"Have you, now?" I teased, pressing my lips to his neck. "Please tell me it's not all Gryffindor colors."

"I've not started painting yet," he said slowly. "Wait, what's wrong with Gryffindor colors?"

"We might both be Gryffindors," I said, laughing. "But I have a lot of Ravenclaws in my family too, remember? What are you going to do if you raise our child in Gryffindor colors and she gets Sorted into Ravenclaw?"

His eyes grew wide with shock and he said, "Do you really think a child raised so firmly in one house could be Sorted into another?"

I laughed.

"Sirius, you were the son of two Slytherins, raised to be a Slytherin, surrounded by Slytherin cultures and values, and yet you were still Sorted into Gryffindor."

"Hmm," he muttered. "Maybe you're right. Well, Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad. We'll read her books. Just…just no snake toys, of any kind, all right?"

"I think you're safe on that, darling," I teased. "Most little girls have no interest in playing with snakes."