Lily put down her teacup and ran one hand through her hair. She liked being able to wear it loose, fanning out over her back, shiny and healthy from the extra shot of hormones.

That was one favour that pregnancy had done her. It had also given her swollen ankles, sore breasts and an aching back, not to mention the countless trips to the toilet that became necessary every time the baby rolled over and kicked. If she weren't so sure he were going to be a wizard, she would swear he was getting an early start as a footballer.

As if on cue, the baby gave her belly another solid jab, and Lily stood slowly to shuffle off and pee. She loved her pregnant body, the shape of it, loved hanging about the kitchen in only her dressing gown so she could enjoy it, but she was sick and tired of being back and forth to the loo all the time.

And she was sick and tired of James staying out late with Sirius at the pub every weekend.

By the time she shuffled back to the kitchen, her husband had emerged from his snoring slumber and was reheating the water in the kettle. His hair was even more ridiculously disheveled than usual and his casual, sleepy smile gave the air of a teenage boy without a care in the world, not a soon-to-be father.

She never knew whether she'd rather hex him or shag him when he looked like that.

Lily's back gave another twinge, and she was about to settle on the former option when James looked up and said, "Morning, beautiful. Sleep well?"

No, she hadn't slept well, what with her back and her ankles and her booze-and-tobacco-stinking husband trying to sneak in around two in the morning, but any biting response she might have had was preempted when James turned around, closed the distance between them in two long strides, and slid his hands inside her dressing gown.

His smooth, strong palms grazed across her belly on either side, around to her back and began massaging their way up her spine. Having been her lover a few years now, he knew every knot, every aching muscle, every single point that needed caressing and kneading and brushing. It didn't take long before she had flung aside her own dressing gown and stuck her thumbs inside the waistband of his pyjama bottoms to ease them past his straining erection and down to the floor.

James leaned Lily back in his hands, lowering his face to nuzzle at her swollen breasts. She hissed in pain, but didn't even get a chance to speak before he left them alone and moved up to her face and kissed her, drawing her lips and her tongue to his mouth by the pure, urgent delicacy of his attention. A small sound emerged from somewhere, probably her own voice, but it didn't matter so long as James's hand kept slipping up her thigh.

His tongue was thrusting against the pulse point in her throat, and that was good, and one of his hands was tangled in the soft hairs at the back of her neck, and that was also good, but best of all was the hand that was inside her, against her, turning and slipping and sliding and seeking the place that was making her cry out repeatedly, throwing her head back and spreading her legs to give him further access.

Sensing that she was on the verge of losing her balance, he carefully-but-firmly backed her up to the sink, where he helped her raise herself until her bum could rest on the edge and she could balance back on her hands, leaving him free to redouble his efforts at stroking and massaging her, slowly, lightly, firmly, quickly. He was peering up into her eyes to gauge her reaction, and she playfully snatched his glasses off and propped them on her own rounded belly so she could watch his unshielded eyes as he watched her respond to his touch.

His body leaned down onto hers and his mouth reached up for hers and his hand kept slipping and sliding against her. She'd worked so hard to teach him, and he'd paid such good attention, and now he knew exactly how to touch, how to use the pads of his fingers to press against her, moving now in a small circle, now in a quick back-and-forth pattern, now back to the circle and faster and faster and firmer and faster and Lily threw her head back, moaning out a sigh of ecstasy as waves of pleasure washed over her.

James rubbed twice more, slowly, gently, then stilled his hand but didn't remove it, placing soft kisses against her belly and oh-so-gently across her tender, erect nipples, up her chest to her throat and capturing her lips as her head dropped forward again.

He gave her one gentle kiss, then another. When her breath was beginning to calm, he squinted impishly up at her and said, "Sorry about last night?" in a hopeful voice.

Lily barked out a single, hoarse syllable of laughter. "You're only lucky you're worth the trouble," she answered, twining her legs around his waist.