A red-haired woman sat on a sofa in front of the fireplace in her home, her eyes looking but not seeing. A fire roared in front of her, intending to keep her warm, but she could only feel cold at this moment. The tension that this woman bore was visible. Her back was hunched, and her shoulders were sagged with the weight of what was plaguing her. She let out another heavy, watery sigh.

A young man stumbled down the stairs. He was tired and barely awake, but his eyes squinted behind his lopsided glasses as he peered at the room. "Lily?" he murmured groggily, "What are you still doing awake?"

Lily swallowed heavily. She wondered if now was the right time to tell him, inform of the news that would forever change his life, or if it would be best to allow him to sleep and keep a few hours of precious peace of mind before his world was turned over. "Go back to bed, James," she said, not turning around.

James did not heed her words and instead moved to sit beside her. "Have you been crying?" he asked, running a hand over his wife's face, feeling that it was indeed damp.

She turned her face away from him, staring down at her hands. She didn't speak or make any indication that she'd heard what he'd said. He moved his hands back to her face, this time to make her look at him. He stared into her normally bright green eyes, that seemed to have dulled in grief. A panic took over James. What did she know that she wasn't telling him? "Lily, what's happened? Is it your parents?" he questioned, his voice going hard.

"It- it's not my parents," she said in a croaky voice. "It's us,"

His brow drew together as he tried to decipher her meaning. "It's us?" he repeated. "I don't understand. Darling, please start making some sense."

"I went to see a Healer today."

James went still. His mind reeled, jumping to a million different conclusions. What if there was a problem with one of her injuries from battle? What if she was suffering from some war-induced stress condition? What if she was seriously ill? A bitter part of James remarked that in all his worrying that he'd lose her from something related to the war, he'd never considered losing her from something so normal as a disease. His heart pounded loudly in his chest. "Are you alright?" he asked, grasping her hands.

"No." She shook her head. "I'd been feeling queasy, and I've thrown up twice in the past few days, so I thought I'd get it checked out. James... I'm- I'm pregnant."

"You're... pregnant," he said, unable to process the words. "We were careful," he managed to say when his mind slowly began to work again.

Lily's shoulder's rose and fell in a shrug. "Things happen," she replied, looking away from him. She blinked repeatedly, trying to keep more tears from falling.

James let his head fall into his hands. He swore softly, wishing he could say something to help her, but nothing could help them now. They would have a baby. They would be parents to a child born into this mess. The war was at its worst, people were dying everyday, they attended funerals more than they went out to dinner, and now they had a child to protect. Their baby was doomed. James heard a strangled noise, and it took him a moment to figure out that it came from his own throat.

This noise from James was all it took to set Lily off. She dissolved into tears, and James lifted his head so he could hold onto her. He put his arms around her and cradled her to his chest. He hadn't an idea what to do, and so he lied. He told her they would be alright, their child would be fine and the war would be over soon. He lied to her and himself over and over, because in a place so bereft of hope, lying is all you have.

"In another life, these would be tears of joy," Lily observed as she calmed down slightly.

James tried to laugh, but it came out brokenly. "It'd still be a bloody shock. I'm nineteen and I'm about to be a father. I'm still a kid myself,"

"We're both still kids." she said, looking as frightened as he felt. "We're barely out of school and now we've got this whole other person to think about, to care for. I don't think I know how to be a mother, James. Isn't it something I'm naturally supposed to know?" Lily questioned anxiously.

James wished he had answers for her. He didn't; no one did. "I don't know, darling. I'm not sure about anything anymore," he admitted, turning his gaze to the fire. He stared into the flames, imagining shapes forming from the sparks that rose. A woman with a round belly, a baby, a Dark Mark. He tore his eyes away.

"Are you scared?" she asked him as he looked back at her.

"Terrified," he confessed reluctantly. He thought ironically of the fact he was able to duel dark wizards, run around with a werewolf during the full moon and marry a Muggle-born during a blood war without a second thought, yet the thought of a child had him nearly undone.

"Me too," agreed Lily with a long and hard sigh. She took his hand, and he was grateful for the comforting gesture. "I think deep down, though, we're happy. I just... I wish the timing was better. I wish this had happened after the war. Where we had normal jobs, a steady life and didn't have to wonder how long our baby would live." James tensed slightly as she said the words that neither of them wanted to admit. "I wanted us to have a family... but not like this."

He leaned against his wife and placed a hand on her stomach, thinking it strange that in a few months it would expand for their child. "Not like this," he repeated sadly.

A/N: Drabble on the Potters finding out about Lily being pregnant. Don't think it'd be a very happy event, as they were in the middle of a war. Idea nagged at me. Thoughts?