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Chapter 21




 



This could be a slow song



A laundry list of all my wrongs



But at the end of the day



This is my beautiful disaster piece I've made



 



- This Will All Make Perfect Sense Someday by John Mayer



 



Lily’s POV





‘At 32 weeks pregnant stage, you are in the middle of your third trimester or in the 8th month of your pregnancy. So you have only 9 or 10 more weeks to go before the delivery or child birth. As you are in the final stages of pregnancy, you will become very restless and start feeling that the wait seems endless.’





You can say that again!





‘At 32 weeks pregnant stage, the baby’s approximate weight is about 1.5 kg or 3 pounds and approximate length from head to toe is about 14 to 17 inches or 36 to 38cm. The baby becomes quite sensitive to the surroundings and is aware of the happenings around. The baby starts having definite sleep and waking patterns and the expectant mother is able to identify these.’





My baby boy has a sleeping pattern! Doesn’t seem like it, but oh well…





‘Now is the time, when the baby starts positioning itself for exit by easing and resting the head on mother’s pelvic bones.’





For exit! He’s gunna be here so soon!





‘The baby has fully grown eyelashes and eyebrows at this stage.’





I stopped reading. That was so cute. That was beyond cute.





I had to tell James!





I picked up the heavy book and got out of bed, using my wand for light across the dormitory. Everyone was asleep, it was three thirty in the morning, and Harry certainly does not have a helpful sleeping pattern! Not with exams in five and a half hours!





I crept out and closed the door quietly behind me, pausing as he kicked me playfully in the ribs. It fucking hurt. But it would all be worth it, I had to keep reminding myself.





Opening the door to the boys’ dormitory, I looked around at the dimly lit room. The floor was covered in a blanket of clothes, school robes and fermenting socks. Books and parchment were littering under the beds and the noise in there was horrendous. It was like a symphony, all four of the boys snoring individually. Oh, wait. That was a lie.





I looked over at Peter who was the only boy actually snoring, though the decibel level could have been an orchestra of four hundred sleeping boys!





Suddenly excited again, I waddled (yes, I waddle now) to the far corner of the room, where James was sleeping peacefully, one of his hands tucked under his pillow. He looked so sweet. Should I wake him? He looks so serene… Ah well!





“James,” I whispered, nudging him gently on the shoulder. He didn’t move. I kissed his cheek tenderly and repeated, “James, wake up.”





Still nothing! This could be an emergency. I could be in labour.





“James! The baby’s coming!” I whispered loudly, heaving myself onto his bed and rubbing his leg from over the covers.





“WHAT?!” Remus cried, sitting upright in his bed. “Baby? Coming? NOW?!” Oh,woops.





“Remus, chill. You’re dreaming. Go back to sleep,” I said, smiling at him. He smiled gaily and settled back down into his bed, muttering happily to himself ‘not long now, not long now.’





How the fuck was I going to wake him up?





“James, Dumbledore and McGonagall are making out.”





“Huh? WHAT? WHERE?!” He said, jumping up from under the covers and standing on the mattress. “Lily? Why are you here?” he asked, confused. He yawned and picked up the blankets, ushering me under them.





“You wake up, to that?!” Shocking. Truly shocking.





“It’s a big deal!” he scoffed, putting his arm around my shoulders.





“Our baby boy could have been being born!” I said to him, placing my cold toes on his thighs, making him squeal in protest.





“That’s fucking cold!”





Haha, revenge is sweet.





“Anyway, James, really, I have to tell you something!” I squeaked to him through a massive smile. He looked equally as happy.





“What is it?” he said.





“It’s amazing, I can’t believe it!” I said, still excited about the prospect.





“What?!” he asked, squeezing my shoulder in anticipation.





“James…” I said, biting my lip. “Our-baby-boy-has-eyelashes!”





“Huh?” he asked.





“EYELASHES!” I burst out. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows before looking pained.





“You woke me up, to tell me THAT?”





“It’s not just that!” I said. I felt totally offended. Why wasn’t he bouncing off of the walls?





“What else is there? Harry has toe nails? What?” he moaned, rubbing his eyes.





“He has eyebrows!” I said, beaming.





“If you weren’t perfect, and I mean, seriously perfect, I’d beat you right now, for waking me up.”





“But our baby has eyebrows and eyelashes!” I said.





“I know. That’s fucking amazing!” he said, coming out of his reverie and smiling brightly.





“I knew you’d be excited too!” I said, snuggling up to him.





“Not long now, Lils.” He crooned, smoothing my hair.





“Not long at all.”





 








 





“You woke him up to tell him Harry has EYEBROWS?” Maisy shook her head and turned the page of her notes over.





“It’s a big deal!” I cried. Why did no one understand?





“I think it’s cute, you should have woken me up!” Sirius said, spooning porridge into his mouth. “As I’m godfather and all!”





“Maisy, no offence, but did you conceive this child?” I asked her.





“No…”





“I bloody well hope not!” James shouted. Sirius laughed and kissed Maisy’s hand.





“Then you wouldn’t understand.” I huffed.





“HUH! Being godmother counts for nothing then?” she giggled, taking the granola bar from my hand. “Take back what you said!” she said, waggling the granola bar in the air, at least a metre away from me. Bitch knew I couldn’t stretch that far.





“Give it back.” I said. This was going to be dangerous.





“Maisy…” James warned. “Give her the granola bar, and everything will be alright.”





“No!”





“Give it to her, or we will all feel her wrath. And you know it.”





Yeah, you’ll know it. Suddenly, my stomach seemed to contract with a wave of pain. Ouch.





“Lily, you okay?” Maisy said, placing the granola bar back on the table in front of me. “I’m sorry, I was just messing…”





“No, no it’s fine. Indigestion.” Must be. I was only thirty-two weeks. Unless my baby was doing more cool stuff? It would be a super tot, I can tell.





“Sure? Want me to take you to Madam Bitch-frey?” she asked, looking at James for help.





“Madam Bitch-frey?” I asked, confused. The pain shot again, my head felt like it was spinning.





“She’s still a bit sour about my stint in the Hospital wing in March.” Sirius said, winking at Maisy.





“She’s a bitch! But whatever, I’ll take you up there and brace myself if you need to.” She said, smiling.





“What time is it?” I asked James. He looked worried; I smiled at him, telling him not to worry in my own little way.





“Eight-fifty,” he said, grabbing his bag. “We should probably get going. If you’re okay, that is?”





“I’m fine, like I said it’s indigestion. Always happens.” I said smiling. “Now let’s get to this exam.”





“I’m bricking it.” Maisy complained, picking up her Potions book and reading from it as we left the hall.





“It’ll be fine!” For me, anyway. Potions swat, teacher’s pet – yeah, I was getting an O.





“Old Sluggy loves you, that’s why.” She said leaning against the wall outside the classroom, ingesting all the information she could from her ratted book.





“That’s because I work in his lesson.” I insinuated, clutching my stomach suddenly from another wave of pain. Indigestion wasn’t in your uterus, was it?





“Lily, are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good.” Said James, wrapping his arm around my waist and placing a warm hand on the bottom of my swelling stomach. I loved it when he did that. So did Maisy. I saw her make an ‘aww’ face at me from behind her book.





“I’m fine! It’s just exam pressure,” I said, laughing it off. God, I hope that’s what it is.





“I really don’t beli-” but James was cut off before he could finish, as Professor Slughorn had swung open the door and started ushering students into the classroom for the practical Potions exam. Sirius swept in skipping merrily, tipping an invisible hat to Slughorn with a “top o’ the mornin’” to him. Maisy smacked his back, pushing him into the room, laughing.





“Good luck, James,” I said, kissing him swiftly on the cheek and moving to my desk, near the front of the class.





On every ones’ desk was a large pewter cauldron; phials of ingredients, stacked alphabetically; a list of instructions, complete with tips from Slughorn; a chopping board, equipped with a small knife and a large glass beaker to collect the final sample in. It was all neatly arranged on the scorched wooden tables, ready to be used.





Slughorn walked past my desk and gave me a quick smile and mouthed ‘good luck’ to me. I smiled back. Sometimes it was nice to be old Sluggy’s favourite.





“Good morning class. You understand the rules. Two hours, one potion – samples handed in to me at the end of the exam. Good luck, you may begin.” He said, picking up a box of crystallized pineapple and seating himself in a luxurious chair behind his desk.





I looked at the potion instructions. Wolfsbane Potion. Simple enough. How many times had I read up this potion, tried to brew it in preparation for this kind of exam. I picked up the monkswood, and chopped it finely; stopping to grip the table in pain. The feeling subsided after moments, leaving me to start brewing my potion.





All around me the classroom was busy and growing warmer. I should have been able to hear the knives snapping against the cutting boards and potions bubbling quietly – but all I could hear, see and feel was direct pain. It was searing through my body from my uterus, right up to my throat. I could feel the bile; I could taste it on my tongue.





Ignore it, Lily. Just ignore it, it will go away. I picked up the monkswood and scraped it into the cauldron – the brew began to smoke faintly. Success! I waited for Harry to kick in response to my rush of happiness, the endorphins scaling my body, they would have hit him by now. He always wriggled when I was happy…





The fumes hit me immediately. The scent was strong and vile, and they blurred my vision, causing me to cough violently. The pain was still burning strong. I could feel the table slipping from underneath me, and the stool gradually moving from beneath me.





There were arms holding me up, grabbing me from under my shoulders. I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t see them. My eyes were adjusting to darkness behind the cloud of agony and I felt myself falling. Not once did I take my hands off of my rounded stomach, cradling my baby boy, as we slipped into unconsciousness; succumbing to the dread that pulsed through my heart and the emptiness I hadn’t felt for more than half a year.






A/N1: UH-OH! Reviews? 

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