Summary:

Lily and James are incredibly dorky (hence the title) and in love, baby Harry is cute...

Note:

For PetalsToFish.

To the wonderful, talented, endlessly brilliant Jily star and beautiful friend petals-to-fish – HAPPY BIRTHDAY PETALS! I'm dying to read more of your Jily fic Fearlessly Red. I hope you enjoy this decidedly not brilliant but exceptionally dorky fic (see end notes, lol!)

Googolplex and Graham's Number

"James?" Lily called.

No answer.

"James, I was wondering if you… oh!" Lily said, walking into the bedroom, towelling her hair dry and stopping mid-air.

She looked down at the sight before her eyes. James was lying fast asleep on his side on top of their large double bed, hair sticking up, glasses lying beside him. His eyelashes looked incredibly long. His lips were slightly parted, his red plaid shirt rolled up, showing off his toned forearms. She was in love with his arms. And his lips. And the warm, golden colour of his skin. Right beside him on the bed, like a mirror image, was baby Harry, now over six months old. His eyelashes looked incredibly long. His lips parted in a round shape, his quiet breathing was possibly the most beautiful, endearing and peaceful thing Lily had ever seen. Like his daddy, baby Harry had his arms out in front of him, except that his tiny little right hand and rounded fingers grasped tightly onto his father's felt index finger. She marvelled at how small he was, lying there beside his father. At how perfect he was. At how stubbornly his fingers clung onto his father's hand. She remembered being told by the midwife that it was a reflex, but she couldn't help thinking it must reflect some of Harry's very own personality, a determined courage. In the same way that sometimes he would look at her for a long moment, with his wide, expressive, emerald eyes, seriously, and then very slowly smile at her. A very soft, sweet, gentle smile.

At other times he had a different smile, like when she read him stories from the muggle fairy-tale books. Frankly she couldn't believe she'd forgotten how incredibly scary and nasty fairy stories were, utterly unsuitable for children. Although she had devoured them as a child herself, and never complained, or even been scarred for life, so she was doing the same with Harry. At these times, as her voice changed from cooing to evil and her facial expressions followed in a wildly exaggerated manner, Harry would open his eyes wider and wider, utterly enthralled, until she got to the part when the wicked witch was defeated, or the genie disappeared, or Rapunzel walloped the prince accidentally on purpose and then he would break into a delighted squeal and his face would light up with joy. As though he understood the plot entirely. Delighting in the villain getting their comeuppance. Ha! It made her feel a surge of hope. About them. About Harry in particular.

And sometimes she would stand at the kitchen door just looking at them, unseen, just like she had done that evening. She watched James trying to cook while minding Harry, who was sitting in his tiny baby chair. Looking puzzled. And a bit bored. His father was having a full-blown conversation with him.

"Listen Prongslet, I know this isn't ideal. Between you and me, my dad used to tell me I was dreadfully impatient too, and would wail if they didn't pay immediate attention to me and play with me as a baby. Complete Mini Nightmare, I was!"

Harry gazed up at him intently and cocked his head to one side, furrowing his brow.

"Baba!" he said, sounding very sure of himself, and banging with his soother onto the tray in front of him.

"Absolutely, Harry old thing!" James nodded solemnly, as he continued mashing the potatoes. "I was a real menace. Unlike you. You're very reasonable in comparison. An absolute godsend!"

Harry looked at him even more perplexed, sticking the soother in his mouth for a few seconds, then take it out again and looking at it in shock (as if wondering how on earth it got there in the first place), before banging it repeatedly onto the plastic tray again, more loudly.

"Gaga!" harry stated, sounding very put out.

"I know, I'm incapable of doing two things at once," James said, grimacing dramatically. "Let's just say that fish curry is my forte, but my ability to make a good cottage pie is very limited, hence this… situation."

"Googoo! Ah! Ah!" Harry said, dropping the soother (which he had now decided was no longer An Item Of Immense Interest, and could cease to exist) and clapping his hands rhythmically and insistently, like was trying to convey a very important message.

"I can guess what you're trying to say, Harry, but your mother would not approve," James said, sounding very much in awe of this entity. "Raw cottage pie is not allowed! Your daddy could end up in Very Deep Trouble."

At this tone of voice, Harry stopped clapping, stared at James, his tiny eyebrows practically reaching his hairline and then give a delighted, naughty giggle. James stared back at his son in adoration and laughed.

"Your mummy is the very best, isn't she, Prongslet?" he grinned. "Nobody messes with my Lily, yeah? She's BAMF and scary as hell when she wants to be. You're mummy is the coolest mum ever. We are so lucky to have her."

Harry smiled back, a sweet, soft smile and James' heart melted. Lily smiled to herself – as always with these conversations, James would inevitably lift his son out of his seat and throw him into the air a few times as the both laughed uproariously.

"Right, you can hold this wooden spoon a second while I – agh!"

James stared at baby Harry, his face covered in mashed potatoes. Harry gave a big, proud smile and wave his hands up and down to indicate he highly approved of his silly daddy. Lily snorted with laughter, invariably with his antics, her husband would catch her eavesdropping.

"Nononono, Mrs. Potter!" James said. "You, my darling, are banned from this kitchen until further notice!"

"But are you sure you-" Lily started.

"Absolutely," James said sternly, a secret smile hovering on his lips. "You are banished to the Upstairs Kingdom and sentenced to a relaxing bubble bath immediately!"

She smiled at him, smitten, as always.

"Am I now?"

"Yes, I insist!" James replied. "When we are finished perfecting our er, pie, we will come up and wait for you in our bed."

Harry looked over at Lily with a distracted smile, he loved looking at his mummy, before his attention was diverted by the proximity of one of his favourite entities. Daddy's Glasses. He lunged forwards and grabbed them.

"Ah! ah!" James said, tutting at his son, potatoes still in his hair, wooden spoon in hand.

"Are you-" said Lily.

"Yes, Mrs. Potter! Go!" said James, winking at his wife as he brought his lips gently to his son's cheek and blew a raspberry, making Harry shriek with joy and forget the spectacles.

Lily reluctantly tore herself away from her two most favourite people in the world ever.

….

"Aww," cooed Lily, looking down at them indulgently. "Adorable."

She carefully picked up Harry and placed him in his cot next door without waking him, standing over him for a few sweet moments, then climbed into the bed beside James. James stirred sleepily.

"All done?" he asked, his left eye half open as he got used to the warm glow from her bedside lamp.

It was ridiculous how easy it was to slip into baby language with each other as well as Harry.

"Mission accomplished," Lily laughed softly, her eyes tracing his tired hazel eyes, his stubbled jaw and the shape of his biceps – he was such a good dad, and such a young-looking dad.

And such a gorgeous one.

"Thank you, beautiful," she said quietly, leaning over him and kissing his forehead tenderly.

"You're the beautiful one, Evans," he said, his voice sounding low and rough, closing his eyes momentarily to savour the moment.

He moved her closer to him, wrapping his strong arms around her and burying his head into her neck as she breathed out deeply. He kissed it slowly, working his way down to her collarbone.

"Love you," James said.

"Love you googolplex," Lily said, sighing contentedly.

"Love you googolplex and Graham's number*," James smiled again, running his hands through her auburn waves.

"Googolplex and Graham's number," Lily said, smiling widely.

He loved their little ritual. He had carved JP ? LE and JP ? LEP and G&GN onto the bench in the back garden, near the window under the apple tree, where they sat and drank tea in the afternoons (and sometimes firewhisky at night). He always wrote it before signing his name when he sent her love notes or cards. He was a sap, eternally smitten, he couldn't help it. Sirius had laughed so hard when he first heard it, he had practically collapsed (but the context of that, and his conversation with Remus afterwards, are a different story**). She seemed to love it though. Muggles and the things they knew about Arithmancy and what they called Science was the most fascinating thing he had ever heard of. As for going to the moon, and maybe somehow solving Remus' furry little problem - after the war was over, he dreamt of becoming an astraunaut.

He traced her curves and she turned around, her eyes twinkling despite the tiredness. He was looking at her full lips.

"Do you want to make mad, passionate love?" he asked.

"Mad, passionate love, huh?" she said, pretending to sound disinterested. "What about sleep?"

"Sleep? Never heard of it?" James grinned at her, his lips now hovering over hers.

They hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in months.

"Sadly true," said Lily, her voice changing from amused to breathy despite herself. "This might be our one opportunity."

"Maybe, baby," he said. "Whatever you want."

The look in his eyes took her breath away.

"Sleep is overrated," Lily said, lifting her face to kiss his lips, her fingers straying into his wild hair.

James kissed her back, and the sweet intensity of it was nearly too much for her. She felt so much it nearly made her want to cry. But a different feeling, and more urgent. She pulled him closer, sighing into his mouth.

"I want you, James," she whispered.

"You have me," he said. "All of me."

"Ask me again," she said, her breath catching.

"Lily Evans Potter, do you want to make-" he started.

"Yes!" she said, placing her finger over his lips. "Yes! Yes of course I do!"

...

And who was James to deny his wife anything?

Notes:

* Googolplex is the number 10googol, or equivalently, 10. Written out in ordinary decimal notation, it is 1 followed by 10100 zeroes, that is, a 1 followed by a googol zeros.

Graham's number is bigger than the number of atoms in the observable Universe, which is thought to be between 1078 and 1082. It's bigger than the 48th Mersenne prime, 257,885,161-1, the biggest prime number we know, which has an impressive 17,425,170 digits.

** Will be in Chapter 39 of We Can Be Heroes ;)

PS Is this "ritual" based on a very dorky, real-life Jily? Er, well, technically (a very red-faced) yes!