ROCKSTAR ⇒ jegulus

THIRTY ONE

James reaches his thirtieth week of pregnancy, and he has really begun to feel the fact that he has merely ten weeks of pregnancy remaining.

His back hurts horribly, his pelvis pains him greatly, he has grown breathless as he walks up staircases; he has started to really understand what it truly means to be heavily pregnant, and in the home stretch, as Peter keeps calling it.

James' phone rings, just as he is settling down for the evening; a sitcom playing lowly on his television, a bowl of butter coated popcorn in his lap, although he is sure by now he could probably rest it atop his bump; but he isn't too keen that Stella would enjoy that, he is certain that she would somehow kick him enough to end up spilling it.

James groans, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth, crunching it down to a minuscule size with his teeth, before he swallows; answering the phone.

He wouldn't have answered, not now that he can potentially use his pregnancy as some kind of an excuse; however the caller ID displays the name of his manager, and he will not have her thinking that his pregnancy has faltered his ability to remain professional.

"Hey, Minnie," James greets, reaching to press the pause button on his remote. "To what do I owe the ever loving pleasure of having you wanting to get a hold of me?" He half smirks.

McGonagall chuckles, an almost dry sound; it would be if she didn't sound almost endeared by his words. "James," She muses. "I'm glad to have gotten a hold of you, young man,"

"Aren't I a lucky guy?"

McGonagall stifles a laugh. "How are you feeling? You're almost at the end now, aren't you? Only a brief ten or so weeks left, yes?"

James shrugs. "Well, she could be overdue, or early. It's more a waiting game as the forty week mark draws closer," He explains.

"Yes, and how are you feeling?" McGonagall persists; he should have known she would ask again. He hadn't given her an answer, of course she was going to hunt for one.

"I'm alright," James replies honestly. "A little achy, I have a few aches and pains, but that's to me expected, isn't it?" He muses softly. "But other than that I can't complain, she's already a good baby," He says; voice somewhat sweet.

He rubs a hand down his belly, pleased to feel the sensation of his daughter moving; kicking boredly.

She's already a good baby. She's already my entire heart, still on the inside of my body, but soon to be on the outside.

"Excellent. I'm happy to hear. Sleeping loads, are you? You probably should be, getting your sleep in before the babe comes,"

James scoffs softly at her advice. "I'm lazy enough as it is, aren't I? I don't need to go getting into even worse habits," He half argues.

"James Potter, you are anything but lazy," McGonagall reminds. She pauses, before; "You're pregnant, you have all the excuses in the world to be lazy, however, you are not acting on them; what with your hopeful desire to still make it to the December charity concert," She tuts gently.

James shrugs at this. "I'm not at fault for simply wanting to remain active, Minerva," He chastises her softly. "It's good for the baby to be active, or so I've heard, at least," He adds.

McGonagall chuckles lightly; a warm, amused noise. "Well, how active would you like to be, mister Potter?"

James squints. "What?" He questions.

"You're in high demand, my boy," James can hear the amused twinkle in her voice. "You've been booked for a solo photoshoot, a maternity shoot, if you will,"