I’m not getting up. I’m not getting up.
Despite the loud, bawling cries Lily can hear, she doesn't immediately sit up. Instead, she lies in her bed, breathing heavily, wondering if she can catch a few more minutes’ sleep before getting up to feed Harry. Her eyelids feel as heavy as lead, and the pain of keeping them half-open is almost as much as the pain in the rest of her body. She’s sure she hasn’t had more than four straight hours’ uninterrupted sleep in the last fortnight, and that’s only if she’s really, really lucky.
Who knew that being a mother would be such hard work? Of course, Lily hadn’t thought it would be easy; the mere thought of having a child had terrified her when she discovered she was pregnant. But she had been more scared of the birth itself than anything.
Harry had been born three weeks early, and he had had to stay in St. Mungo’s, needing breathing spells for a week before he could breathe on his own. The blood replenishing potions Lily had had to take drained her body of any energy she had remaining.
Lily and Harry had both returned from St. Mungo’s a week ago, and now Lily has a baby, her baby, to look after, she is far, far more terrified. Lily’s mother definitely hadn’t seemed to have found it this difficult -- she had made it look so easy, and she had had two children, not just one. Harry is only two weeks old, and already, Lily’s postnatal fatigue is getting to her. Her entire body aches, and her sleep-deprived brain is only just functioning enough for her to register her baby’s incessant screams.
She loves Harry. Really, she does. And yet she can’t help but wish he could at least respond to her, somehow. All he’s done from the moment he was born is eat, sleep and poo. Lily is only Harry’s milk machine, really.
Harry’s cries are becoming more insistent now, and with a sigh, Lily heaves herself out of bed just as James stirs beside her. Harry quietens a little as she lifts him out of his cot, sniffs his nappy and sits on her bed, pulling down her nightshirt. But he continues to cry no matter how much Lily tries putting Harry’s mouth nearer to her breast.
–I don’t think he’s hungry, Lily.†James’s sleepy voice makes her jump. –Have you checked his nappy?â€
–Yes,†she replies, trying not to sound impatient as she pulls up her shirt again. –He hasn’t done a poo. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.â€
–Do you want to give him to me?†he asks softly.
–No, it’s all right,†Lily says more snappishly than she intended. But, really, she can’t help but envy James sometimes. Normally, when James picks Harry up, he stops crying pretty quickly. It’s not the same with Lily, though.
She feels James’s hand touch her cheek and turns towards him. His sleepy face is calm, unperturbed by her brusqueness. –Lily, you’re tired. Go to bed. Let me--â€
–It’s fine, James,†she says again, suddenly fighting back tears. She takes a deep breath and tries to swallow the lump in her throat, cursing under her breath, hating herself for getting so emotional over things. And then she gets up, still holding a sobbing Harry to her chest, and opens the door, leaving the bedroom.
She tries rocking him for a few minutes as she walks up and down the hall, shushing him, but it’s no use. It suddenly occurs to her that she could try singing to him, even though she can’t sing to save her life; she smiles at him, and his lips stop trembling for a moment as he looks up at his mother. It is only then that she realises the only reasons she holds Harry is because she has to feed him. Lily hasn’t ever held him just because. Maybe, she thinks as he stares up at her with bright green eyes, mirroring her own, that is why he is crying. Maybe, for once, Harry doesn’t want his milk or his bum cleaned up. Maybe he just wants his mother.
–I love you, Harry,†she whispers to him, kissing his forehead and cuddling him. And though he obviously can’t reciprocate her words, Harry does make a small gurgling sound (perhaps of appreciation) just as James opens the bedroom door and steps out into the hall. Lily looks up and smiles at him. –Everything okay?†he asks.
–Yes, James, everything’s fine,†she says serenely. –And sorry for--â€
He shakes his head. –You have nothing to apologise for, babe.â€
She swats him playfully on his bare shoulder. –James Potter,†she says wryly, –since when have you become so tactful? And don’t call me ‘babe’. You know I hate it.â€
–I love you too,†he replies teasingly, leaning forward and kissing her nose.
They share another smile before looking down at the child in her arms, and tears begin to form in her eyes as Harry’s tiny lips turn upwards -- and form his first ever smile.
And, somehow, Harry’s smile is far more magical than anything Lily -- or, for that matter, anyone else -- could ever perform, and that makes all the difference in the world.
My Love Is Always Here by xxbabewithbrainsxx
Story Notes:
This is an expanded version of one of my SPEW LoveNotes. It's also basically just fluff with a bit of angst thrown in -- enjoy (hopefully) :)
Chapter Endnotes: Please review :) Also, remember to check out Gina/Gmariam's author page -- she writes gorgeous James/Lilys like there's no tomorrow, and they are all fabulous, so please do go over there and review her :D