James ran his thumb across her cheek, catching the tears which were threatening to fall before pressing his lips to Lily's forehead. God, he loved her. Could he tell her that again without sounding like done kind of idioticly boring stuck record? Probably not.
"How about 'Oi, Potter. You gorgeous virile genius, you've only gone and knocked me up again." He grinned widely at her. Admittedly, Lily's way was probably better, but he was giddy and full and practically vibrating with excitement. James dropped one of his hands from his wife's smiling face, instead lacing his fingers through hers where it rested on her abdomen.
"Little bugger. Very inconsiderate of them, really." It was hard to think at all with everything that was bouncing frantically around his head, but he cast his mind back to her pregnancy with Harry. She'd been a little sick then too. Not enough to keep her from fighting a war, obviously, but they didn't have to worry about that here. Whatever flaws the castle had, it had to be easier this time around, right?
James couldn't stop himself scrambling a little closer to her, efficiently destroying whatever was left of the tart wedged under his right knee.