The Queer Sycamore

Watchful Eyes:

The Spherelight was an innovative device designed specially for every agent in the Auror department. It was a bit like a miniature lantern - shaped like one - but the blinding beam of light instead shone through the top lid and agents could speak of business amongst themselves without any interferences or risks of being discovered. It was very useful, too; a couple of Aurors had been recently sent to Romania, Vietnam, Korea and Ethiopia, and the Spherelight had proved to be very practical as well as easily transportable.

James had just come back from putting the baby to sleep when he heard a conversation taking place in the living room - the room where he and Lily had decided to put the Spherelight. He soundlessly flattened himself against the wall and listened.

"Have you taken a look?" said the man's voice.

"Yes, I have. Who is she, anyway?" asked the voice of his wife.

"A prostitute. The morgue has let us have a look. She was pronounced dead a year ago. Died at the hands of Death Eaters. Didn't do anything wrong until she started listening too closely."

"Curious, was she?"

There was a silence, and then the man's voice spoke again. James leaned closer to the wall that separated the living room from the entryway, hidden behind it.

"Listen, take care of yourself and James, and especially your baby. The Queer Sycamore is a bad place to hang out casually at. It's probably nothing like you've ever seen before."

James couldn't help but notice the tightness of his wife's words after his comment. "I'll handle myself just fine, thanks. I'm sure it's no worse than some places I've seen before. I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

"All right, then. When will you go apply for the job?"

There was a short momentary pause, during which James closed his eyes in quiet anger. She hadn't wanted to hear him. "I'm not sure. The sooner, the better, I think."

"Good luck. Keep me updated on the Order business too, will you?"

"Sure will."

James heard a small noise like fire hissing after being showered with water, and then, complete silence.

He found his wife sitting on her heels, appearing lost in thought as she examined an object in her hand. When he was closer he was able to make out the talisman Hackman had given her before dismissing him and the others.

"I heard you stop in your tracks," she said calmly. "You heard everything?" she asked, now turning her head to study his reaction.

He nodded. "Yeah. I heard everything. At least he's being considerate of our son." He'd wanted to appear a lot more angered than this, but somehow he couldn't be angry with her. He paused, lacking the words to express what he wanted to say next.

"Great man, Hackman. Too bad he won't work on the field anymore." She sighed and looked up at him with dejected eyes

James joined her and sat next to her kneeling form on the floor. Soon the weight of her head was pushing on his shoulder. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked finally.

Lily sighed once again. "It's not so much the question in itself. I think I need to do this if I want to climb up the ladder."

James nodded absently, stroking her hair as she studied the talisman which she had kept tucked in her fist and stroked the ridges and valleys of the intricate design, seeming mesmerised by the neat baroque art.

"I just want this Death Eater and Voldemort business to be over with," she added after a long moment of silence, after which a baby's cries and wails started up the stairs.

She started moving, but James grasped her hand firmly and pulled her back. For a few moments, the intensity of their stares and the baby's cries pitching in volume filled the silence that surrounded them like a giant opaque bubble. A bubble so fragile yet so light and free. Finally James brought her head down and dipped his head to lay a light kiss on her forehead and let her hand go. She climbed up the stairs and went to calm the baby.

At this exact moment, when Lily had reached Harry's crib, a quick succession of tap-taps on the window caught James's attention. He raised to his feet very heavily and marched towards the sound, opening the window with a swift haul. The peregrine owl gracefully swooped in, a large white document envelope held tight in its talons. He released it and watched the owl take place on a shelf, smiling to himself before unsealing the "top secret" marked envelope and reading the first page of the document.

"I thought this might interest you or Lily," it read. "I doubt all of this is truly valid information, but I just wanted to make sure you both knew about this before you heard it from an unreliable source.

Signed, Sirius."

James shuffled through a few leaves. These were apparently recent Auror reports from and around James's unit: most recent death lists, suspicious death lists, mysterious Death Eater locations, information about the Queer Sycamore itself and its owner and, as Sirius liked to call it with a mad smirk, "the bastard who's betraying us all." Sirius still hadn't completely figured out who the mole could be in this matter, but it was obvious it was one of his prime interests right now, aside from working on the recent reports James had asked him to hand in as soon as possible. Sirius was barely a rank lower than James, so James usually proposed all the really exuberant and pleasurable assignments to Sirius, although quite recently he had been none-too-pleased with the death list task. But James was confident that Sirius wasn't procrastinating on this as much as a lower-ranked official would have.

When James heard Lily's light and almost inaudible footsteps coming down the stairs and saw her with the baby, humming a tune under her breath to quiet Harry down, James had already taken a good roaming look at all of the investigative reports.

He looked up from the Queer Sycamore documents. "Are you really quite sure?" he asked again. So far what he'd gathered from the report wasn't exactly so good. He'd already heard about the hotel-slash-brothel before in small talks and out and around in the streets and parties, but he'd never heard so much about it before as he had now just read. "Could you please rethink about it? I'm sure Hackman would understand if -"

"I'd love to," she cut, "but who else would take my place? Alice? She's already involved head over heels in the surveillance case. Most of the men wouldn't know how to place a toe in line like a lady, least of all a prostitute."

James raised a mocking eyebrow. "Oh, and you do?"

She grimaced. "That's beside the point."

He sobered, taking her hand in his and placing his other hand on Harry's head carefully and protectively. He shook his head slowly, gathering his words. "I don't want you involved in this one. I've never stopped you before because I knew you could handle the adrenaline, the pressure and all of the hard work, but now it just looks dangerous - more than we're used to... more than you're used to. Sirius just sent me the reports I asked him today. It's - "

Lily cut him, hoisting Harry higher on her other hip. "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, thanks."

James threw his hands in the air, careful not to raise his voice as he sank into the cushions of the couch behind him. "And what about Harry, eh? What if something happens to his mummy?"

Lily's entire expression darkened; her hold around Harry loosened a bit. It was clear that James had struck a sensitive string, but she tried to compose herself before mumbling finally, "We'll figure something out."

James's muscles, tight mere seconds ago from their argument, slackened. "Harry needs you," he said, standing up and kissing the top of her bright red head, "and I need you." He'd choked that last part a little more quietly as if he wanted to communicate all of his love for her in just a few meaningful words.

Harry's head rolled drowsily to rest on Lily's breast, light and peaceful. She hesitated before stepping away; her eyes were still locked to her husband's in a much more powerful stare than any magic could match.

Finally, biting her lip, she turned and left the room, baby asleep in her arms. She never came back downstairs, but when James went to bed that night, the passion hadn't left any pore in their fervour-ridden bodies.

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