#additional scene

“You must have missed us over Christmas to come driving down here from London practically the moment we touched down,” his mother said, pouring him a cup of tea and shoving a piece of Greek, spicy walnut cake – his mother always went on a bit of a Greek baking frenzy after returning from what she considered to be her home country – his way. “I’ve barely had time to unpack.” She placed a hand on his cheek now, her thumb caressing his cheekbone, careful not to touch his glasses. “It is lovely to see you, my darling.” He wished he was certain she would still think so after he had told both her and his father what he had come to say. The thought of it alone made him feel nauseous, although he nearly grimaced thinking that too for he realised that he could not complain about feeling sick when he had witnessed Lily make a run for the bathroom every few minutes. Your fault, he thought to himself. He had never thought he would be the one to end up ruining Lily’s life. He had hoped he’d be the one to stand by her side through any storm she would have to weather. Not once had he considered that he might be the one to cause a full-blown hurricane to enter her life. “What did you do for Christmas and New Year’s Eve?” his father asked him. “Fleamont,” his mother interrupted, “are you sure we would want to hear the details of it all?” “It wasn’t like that at all, mum,” he said, remembering how he had driven up to Watford on Christmas Eve to pick up Lily, how his friends had teased him silly over the fact that he would be a father in a few months’ time on Christmas Day itself and how he had spent New Year’s Eve in the knowledge that the upcoming year would be life-changing. Sure, he might have had a bit too much to drink then, trying to drown his misery and the oppressive guilt he was experiencing, but it wasn’t exactly the typical New Year’s Eve he was sure his mother imagined a not-so-willing bachelor would experience. “Well, your cousins were very jealous of the fact that you spent New Year’s Eve in London,” his mother said as she sat down in her favourite armchair, leaning back against the soft pillows, cup of tea elegantly raised. “I imagine they will be terribly disappointed to hear you didn’t enjoy yourself to the fullest now that you’re still young.” He rolled his eyes at that. “I’m to turn thirty this year, mum,” he said, “that’s not exactly old, is it?” “It isn’t,” his mother said pursing her lips. “Although I confess I had hoped you would be a little more settled at this point in your life.” There it was, he thought. Well, don’t you concern yourself too much, mother. It seems like life has thrown a curveball my and Lily’s way. You may be getting exactly what you want sooner rather than later. “How terribly old-fashioned, Mia, my love,” his father came to the rescue, dangling his piece of walnut cake between his fingers. “I thought you had resolved not to be anything like your own mother.” “Yes, well,” his mother said, scrunching up her nose at the mention of James’ grandmother. James only had vague memories of her, but he knew his mother had never been on the best of terms with her own. “Maybe,” his mother then continued, “I am simply disappointed that James is here by himself and still hasn’t managed to fix things with Lily.” His mother shook her head at him. “Please tell me you have at least spoken to her again about the lawsuit. I really do feel that we need to go ahead.” “I have spoken to her,” he replied, wondering if this was perhaps the moment to tell them what they had spoken about exactly. He scooted forward a little, placed his hands on his knees and took a deep breath. “Actually, that’s the reason I’m here –” “Has she agreed?” his mother leaned forward. “Oh, that’s most excellent, James! I must make a few calls now. You could have told me straight away, you know.” As she spoke, she had put down her tea and she had half gotten up from her seat already. “No, mum,” he said, “that’s not what I’m here for.” His mother sent him a look. “Then get to it, so I can get to work,” she told him impatiently. “You know how badly I want to make those absolute miscreants pay. They deserve every bit I’ve got coming for them.” He swallowed hard, avoided his mother’s eye. “You see,” he said, sounding unsure of himself and he rarely ever was, “it’s rather embarrassing, really.” “Embarrassing?” his mother asked, clucking her tongue. “It can hardly be more perplexing than your latest break-up.” Ha, he thought, oh, mum, you really won’t see this coming, will you? “I don’t think any of that will help, my love,” his father said. “I know you’re still upset that James and Lily didn’t last and I have to say I am disappointed too, because I really like the girl,” James very nearly cringed here, “but James was the one who got his heart broken. Surely, he doesn’t need to be constantly reminded of the fact that he messed things up?” No, dad, he thought, I really don’t need that, but thank you for bringing it up once more. “Oh, that he did,” his mother agreed with his father. “Now, James, whatever it is: out with it, so I can get to work on the Riddle Case.” He wondered how Lily had had the courage to just come out and say it. How the words James, I’m pregnant had spilled from her lips as though it wasn’t going to make everything so much more complicated than it already was. He wondered how she had been able to tell her parents – although, obviously, this hadn’t gone well for her at all – while he felt as though he was suddenly sixteen again and was about to confess to some illicit scheme or had to explain why the headmaster had once again called to complain about him, even though he had done absolutely nothing wrong. Perhaps he found it so difficult to confess now, because this time he realised he was actually guilty of something. The one thing he was grateful for, despite it all, was that he had decided not to bring Sirius. Things would be so much worse if he had. He could just imagine Sirius blurting it out for him: “James here forgot to suit up his sausage and got his ex-girlfriend and co-worker pregnant. What’s up with you guys? Did you enjoy the Grecian sun without us?” “All right,” he said, rubbing his sweat-coated palms against this jeans, “so, as you know Lily and I were colleagues that turned into something a little more and I know you know that we had sex –” he felt a blush creep up his cheeks. He truly felt like he had gone back in time and he was a teenager once more. “Well, it appears that we weren’t always as careful as we should have been –” “Oh god!” his mother exclaimed, placing a hand on her chest in a truly dramatic fashion. “You didn’t, James!” He ran a hand through his hair. “It appears that I did.” His mother let out a strangled noise, his father’s eyes darting from his wife to his. “A sexually transmitted disease, James?” his mother sounded scandalised. “Please tell me you didn’t give her one of the bad ones that can cause real damage –” If he hadn’t been bright red before, he certainly was now. “Mum!” he was unable to keep his discomfort and his outrage out of his voice. “What the actual fuck?!” “Well, of course it was you that gave it to her!” his mother snapped. “The poor girl!” “Mum,” he said forcibly, “I did not give Lily an STD!” “How uncouth of you to suggest that the poor girl, who has already gone through so much trauma is the one to contaminate you –” “Euphemia,” his father then said, “I think you might be misreading the situation just a little.” “– I expected better of you, James Fleamont Potter!” his mother ignored his father. “I honestly believed I raised you to respect women at all times and to be a proud feminist, but it seems that you are actually more of a misogynist –” “Truly, Euphemia,” his father tried once more, “why don’t you listen to our son? Allow him to explain?” “– how dare you blame the girl?! I thought you knew how harmful victim-blaming is exactly –” “Mum!” he shouted, getting up from his seat. “For fuck’s sake, I got her pregnant, okay?” His words rang through the living room, his mother’s eyes widened, her mouth snapped shut, her face rapidly drained of any and all colour. His father, on the other hand, appeared calm. “That’s what I thought,” the elder male Potter spoke. “Now, let’s all calm down and talk this through –” While his father spoke, his mother got up from her seat and left the living room. The silence she left behind was deafening and James’ heart sank. “I’m sure she’ll be back in just a moment,” his father told him. “Don’t worry, James.” James very nearly scoffed. Don’t worry? Are you joking? Mum just stormed out of the living room! He let himself fall back on the sofa, groaning loudly as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “This did not go as I had planned,” he said. “Yes, well,” his father said, “I would wager none of this situation was planned, but what can you do?” Then he had the audacity to take a bite of the walnut cake his mother had baked. “Mmm,” he hummed appreciatively as he swallowed his first bite, “your mother has truly outdone herself with this one. Why don’t you try it too?” He wasn’t sure what he hated more, his mother’s dramatics or his father’s ability to remain calm in the eye of the storm. Before he could truly complain, however, his mother walked back into the room, carrying a red, fuzzy blanket in her hands, which was covered in lightning bolts. He recognised it straight away as having belonged to him when he was little. “I kept this,” she said, he noticed that her eyes had a glassy sheen to them, “for this moment exactly.” The fingers of her left hand brushed against the fuzzy material. “Although, I do admit, I could not have predicted the exact circumstances.” “Mum,” he said softly, but she held up a hand. “The situation is unorthodox, certainly,” his mother continued, “but then again I shouldn’t have expected any less with your tendency to surprise us at every single turn.” “I think,” his father took over, “what your mother means to say is that, while not perfect and perhaps a little unusual, we are delighted to welcome a new addition to the family.” His mother nodded a little stiffly, but James recognised this as her attempt to reign in her emotions. “You know your father and I for a long time thought we wouldn’t ever get to experience this,” she teared up here, “but then you happened and then – a matter of years later – you dragged Sirius home and now –” her lip trembled. James took this as his cue to get up from his seat, walk over to his mother and wrap his arms around her. She welcomed his embrace, leaning in to him. “I’m sorry,” she almost whispered, “I don’t know what possessed me earlier.” “No, mum,” he replied, “it’s okay. I’m –” he closed his eyes, took in a deep, shaky breath, “– I get it. I just didn’t know how to tell you.” “I’m not surprised,” she laughed against his chest, “seeing as I screamed at you like a Greek Fury!” “It was not completely unwarranted,” he shrugged, pulling her just a little tighter before stepping back. “I may not be guilty of the crime you thought I’d committed, but I’m still a conscience-stricken offender.” “Oh, sweetheart,” the look on his mother’s face was soft, “these things happen, especially when you least expect them to.” That they did, he thought. That they did. “How is Lily faring?” his father then piped up. James grimaced. “She’s not great,” he replied. “She spends most of her days in bathrooms, it seems.” “I was the same,” his mother nodded thoughtfully. “It must be something to do with the Potter sperm.” “Mum,” he pulled a face. “Really, James,” she practically scoffed, “seeing as you got the girl pregnant, I would think you would no longer squirm at the use of words such as those.” Then she huffed. “Now, Fleamont, tell him exactly how he should behave around a pregnant woman, so I can wrap this up and write the poor dear a note. She must be absolutely beside herself with worry and stress and some support from one woman to the next goes a long way.” His mother walked off and he turned towards his father, who wore an amused smile on his face. “Truly, son, there is only one thing I can say: when your mother was pregnant with you, the only thing that worked was agreeing with her on every single thing.”

Besides. Disrupting patterns to create some excitement is its own kind of pattern, isn’t it?]