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The Drunken Mistake

Scretch-scretch-scretch

The scrub moved in frantic circles, a woman on her hand and knees cleaned with fevered desperation. Her red hair pulled into a tight bun bounced with every desperate circle. Her charming freckled face sheened with sweat. It needs to be clean before he gets here never mind the fact that he won't be returning until two weeks from now. He won't love her anymore if he ever found out how much a failure of woman she is. He'll leave. He can't know. He won't know. Oh god – it's not coming out!

Scretch-scretch-scretch

She tries hard to ignore the small wooden jewelry box she never got around to using.

"…so stupid!"

Magic would help her but she just couldn't bring herself to just vanish it all away.

Her back ached, her knees burned, and her arms were too heavy to lift after what seemed like hours of cleaning the old-fashioned way but the deed was done. Now, she simply sat on the wooden floor next The Spot. There was a dark tinge but nothing she couldn't pass off as little spill that she had cleaned – there's no need to use magic for everything, that is simply just laziness.

Blank faced, she simply stared at The Box. The more she stared, the more the lump in her throat grew. Her green eyes red and watery with insurmountable grief. The Box was brown and simple like a little brown c—

She curled herself into a ball and lay on her side staring at The Box. Silent tears burning down her cheeks. For hours, she lay staring until she couldn't stand the pain of lying on hard wood floor and dragged her feet upstairs to her bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

She woke up the next day, emotionally exhausted and aching all over. She dragged herself off the bed and sluggishly went back downstairs. She stopped just a few feet away from the foot of the stairs. The Spot. Her lips trembled. Her hand clenched the railing and continued moving down the steps and ignored The Spot.

Tea. Tea will make things better. Tea always calmed down Mama on a bad day. Tea always calm quelled her sisters' temper. But wine, yes, wine always numbed everything. Wine made the pressure of the wizarding world seem like an annoying little buzz.

The Box was buried late in the evening by the five-year old tree they were growing.

When James returned exhausted but triumphant over their successful raid and moved straight to his wife preparing dinner for the equally exhausted marauders. He never noticed his Lily's sudden bout of depression and only caught her sunken eyes. She must have been tired from him being gone for so long. What he did notice was Lily sudden keen interest in keeping their pet project healthy. With how much attention she gave the thing, he would think that Lily had chosen the wrong professional focus of charms. She should have gotten into herbology when he mentioned this Lily went into such a sudden fury.

"What is wrong with you, Lily!?" James snapped at the furious red-head, he would later admit that he shouldn't have spoken to her in that manner. But her sudden unexplainable melancholy and it only got worse from there on. A poorly phrased question, a comment, a small gesture – anything, would set her into an angry tired.

"Why can't you be serious for once James?"

"Why don't pick up after yourself?"

"James, you need to tell me when we have guests over! Don't just spring them on me unprepared!"

"Stop using magic every little thing! What happens when you don't have your wand with you?! You need to rely on yourself more than a stupid twig!"

And he tried, he honestly tried. He stopped joking around as often as he did with her. He would manually wash the dishes and put them away. He sometimes would cook dinner with her (albeit she would snap at him for not doing something properly as well) or for her. He would warn her hours in advance when his friends would come over. Not they wanted to be over. Not with all the tension and biting comments. Sirius did his best to liven up his best friend, he took him out to watch a match or have a drink while chatting over miscellaneous thing. Anything to keep James from suffocating over thinking of his obviously failing marriage.

But there were times when James just couldn't.

"Did I do something wrong?" His red-rimmed eyes bore holes into Sirius' being. There was not much that he could do or say. Sirius wasn't one for words, that was Remus' job. But Sirius had known James for much longer and he knew what he needed know wasn't calming words from Remus or the silent awkward companionship of Peter. What he needed right now was the hard truth.

"You didn't do anything wrong; it's just not working."

"But I want it to work, I want Lily and I to grow old together. I want us to see our children step into King's Cross Station. I want a family with her."

James one too many drinks that night and instead of trampling back inside his house disturbing a sleeping Lily he decided to stay at Sirius'. A mistake he realizes when comes home in the morning to an agitated Lily.

"Where were you?"

"I – I didn't want wake you up so late," he slowly spoke, wary of whatever reaction she may have. "I stayed over with Sirius."

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Sirius lately," she fired back with her arms crossed.

"It's not – what are you getting at?"

"I am saying that you spend more time with Sirius then you do with Remus or Peter. I wonder why that is."

"I am not having an affair with Sirius, Lily!" exasperated he carded his hands through his messy hair. "Why would—"

"Are you?"

"No."

"Is he covering for you?

"No."

"Is that why you won't…?"

"NO! Lily you're not happy. That's something we do when we're happy. When – When – When you want to. When you're…Not when your unhappy. Not when you clearly don't love me anymore," James removed his glasses and toyed with them. He could see a burly Lily cross her arms. James had never been so glad for his poor vision until this very moment. "You don't trust me; you won't even tell me what's wrong, I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"James, I—"

James laughed without mirth looking at her helplessly. "I'm…I'm going…to go for a walk. I need to think."

"So, is this it?" James sat slumped on the mattress. The spare bedroom was a little dusty from no use and bare of most homely commodities.

"Her suitcase was gone when I came back."

He said nothing at first, he only leaned against the doorframe examining his defeated friend.

"You can stay here as long as you want," he finally said and straighten, he needed to get ready. His shift started in an hour and had some last-minute details to add in his report before turning it in.

Sirius hesitated, licking his lips.

"Just go, I'll be fine. I need to be alone."

Sitting there alone. Depressed. Wife left him. War pressures. "Dammit," When did I decide to become a responsible wizard?

Two weeks later one late November evening Lily walked aimlessly. Her face fresh and clear but pale with slightly sunken eyes. She doesn't even remember what city she found herself in. Mort? Mortimer? Fort?

Her tired gaze shifted to a little hole in the wall pub.

Gasps.

Sighs.

Grunts.

That throbbing satisfying need fulfilled. And she felt…she felt.

An owl awaited two days later, and Lily's heart jumped.

Does he know?

The letter quivers in her hands as she reads it. Oh James, I'm so sorry. She returns when she is for certain he will be away from work and unpacks her things to their rightful place. Lily immediately sets herself to cooking. A significantly lighter whiskey bottle and shot glass are left ignored. Humming away and puttering about like she had never left. Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened.

She hears the whoosh of the fireplace as she does the finishing touches of dinner and continues with her mantra of: Nothing happened. There is no guilt in her eyes except for her guilt of leaving for three weeks.

"Lily…"

"I made Shepard's pie and bread pudding." She beams gesturing to the set-up table. Shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked up at his hazel eyes. "We should talk."

The messy haired man tucks her hair and grins tiredly. "Yeah, we should." He pulls her into his arms tightly taking in her scent. He pulls back looking at her green eyes: "We should."

He kisses her.

Hours later, she lies in bed tracing his sleeping form with her eyes. He doesn't need to know about her transgression. They never do get around to talking. And life continues, she nurtures the little tree with much care (she ignores Sirius' glares) and throws away all alcoholic beverages much to James' confusion. Alcohol, take one too many and accidents happen.

Then, one celebratory night with The Order she is so happy. James is laughing with his best friends and talking with Alice who just disclosed her pregnancy to her. Alice's pregnancy. The burning jealousy and anger over her friend happy news…the little tree by its lonesome self at Godric's Hollow.

Tears threaten to spill...

"Lily what's wrong?"

Her heart pounding. She needs to…her head feeling light…she needs to leave. Coward, the angry harshly whispered word echoes. She needs – "LILY!"

She wakes up in the safety of her bedroom with a somber James staring at her.

"You were drinking," James started. Confused at his serious tone, Lily simply stared. Yeah, she was drinking, everyone was. What's his point? "You're pregnant. You can't drink when you're pregnant Lily. I thought you knew that – what were you thinking?! You could have lost the baby, Lily!"

"What? I'm not pregnant!"

"Oh, so you're in denial now?"

"No, I'm not in denial. I have nothing to be in denial for because I am not pregnant, James. I would know."

"Yes, you would know. That's why you threw away all evidence of alcohol from our house. You haven't sipped a single drop of alcohol for three months. And that's why the Med-Witch asked me why I let you drink knowing you were pregnant. That's a nice way to find out your wife's pregnancy by the way. 'Lord Potter, alcohol is unhealthy for the mother and child. She had high blood pressure. Please consult with your wife, I urge you.'"

She tends to her little tree using her magic more than her hands nowadays. She couldn't bend over much. But she nurtures the little thin tree, she didn't want it to feel abandoned. At this second, James has left once more for a two-week venture, a top-secret mission from Dumbledore. He shouldn't be too long; the two weeks are nearly up.

The kitchen is clean, her little tree properly watered and tended to, her small little meal digested and her back has been aching terribly so. In fact, it's been, "Oh."

So that's what Molly meant.

"Ow," She should have taken up her offer of staying with rather than waiting for James to return.

It's too early.

She's alone, like that night so long ago. That night she feared it would be a stillborn, but cries of an irate babe quelled her fears. She gives birth on The Spot. Exhausted and sore, Lily pulls her baby boy close to her and smiles. Murmuring a cleaning spell, she removes all traces amniotic fluids consequently also removing The Spot as well. Lily smiles softly at the red mewling wrinkled boy and pulls him close to her heart. His fusses lessen at the beat of her heart. She takes in all that is her son from his tiny little feet to small button nose.

He's so small.

She traces with a hovering finger his little nose, his pursed angry lips, his light brows furrowed in unmitigated anger. His feather soft light hair teases the tip of her finger. Long pale lashes have yet to reveal the color of his eyes. Will he have her green eyes or James' hazel hues? Then he let out a small yawn and his deep blue intelligent eyes met her own loving ones that soon turned shocked. Blue? Where did…oh. Oh, no.

He's right on time. It's at that very moment that she remembers what she conveniently forgot that November night. Her drunken mistake.

He can't know. She clutches her baby closer, he'll be the one to leave this time. He'll leave her. Where the hell did all her Gryffindor courage go? The infant huffed, his brows furrowed in further anger. His face reddening. "No, don't cry. Don't cry baby."

She licked her lips: "You'll only feel a little tingle."

The little boy huffed and a little coughing sound just as she tapped her wand on his white hair. He made the coughing sound again and little out a shaking wail of pure anger. "Shhh, it's okay baby, it's okay." But the little boy would not have it, and let his young mother hear his displeasure. Black ink spread from the crown of his little to the ends of what little white hair he had. Those intelligent blue eyes bled into a green shade.

She shushed the newborn but nothing seemed to be make him stop.

"He's hungry," a voice said plainly.

She startled: "James! Since when did you get here?"

"Just in time to watch you fumble with a crying baby. Honestly, isn't this supposed to be instinctual. Y'know, wham bam momma gives baby milk. That's what Frank said Alice did." James crouched near the still crying infant, his hazel observing all his irritated glory. "So…?"

"So…?"

"Milk?"

"Oh!" She unbuttoned her shirt ignoring his wriggling brows. She nudged in exposed breast awkward to angry wailing infant. "Come on." She accidently poked his face but the boy caught on and winced when he hungrily latched on.

"So?"

"So."
Giggling, she asked, "Any names?"

James looked up at her grinning with his whole face, "I always thought Harry was a good name."

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