In Curves, Not Angles

Part 3

Lily almost, almost, thought things were normal when she woke up on Monday. She was, after all, very comfortably curled against her husband, who was still snoring peacefully. She sighed lightly, and tightened her arm around his waist, spooning herself even more intimately around him.

But slowly, muzzily, she realized something was wrong again. This wasn't their bed; their sheets, their pillows, yes, but... this was in the living room. And she was pressed against his back -- no breasts or curved belly to get in the way.

Then, even worse....

Lily made a strangled sound and scrambled backwards, rocking the transfigured bed and making James sputter himself awake.

"Wha? Lils?" He rolled halfway over before he got stuck and fumbled, too awkward in sleepiness to negotiate the blankets properly. He was squinting, too, without his glasses. When he realized who was inhabiting his bed -- or, more accurately, inhabiting the body inhabiting his bed -- he sighed, and slumped back down. "Merlin," he said under his breath. "If we're going to go through this every morning, we'll all die of heart attacks by Wednesday."

Lily didn't say anything. She just flushed, hugely embarrassed -- and, to her horror, hugely something else -- and backed up a little farther, as close to the edge of the sofa-bed as she could manage.

"It's okay," James said tiredly. "I... know it's weird being Sirius in bed with me, but...."

"Sort of not the problem," Lily said, her tension making Sirius' voice outright squeak.

James sat up, fumbled for his glasses on the end table, shoved them on, and was adjusting them over the bridge of his nose with one finger when he turned with a puzzled frown. "Then what's wrong?" he asked.

Lily squirmed where she sat, trying very hard, and mostly failing, to ignore the admittedly-pleasant ache between her legs. At that, James finally looked down. Then he gulped. "Oh."

"I just -- um...."

"It happens in the mornings sometimes," James said hurriedly. "You know...."

"Yes, but," Lily began, weakly, "is it supposed to happen when I'm making Sirius snuggle up with you?"

James stared at her, momentarily frozen.

"I -- never mind," Lily said in a rush. "Morning thing. Totally normal. Now what do I do about it?"

James' eyes dropped to the bulge in her pyjamas again, and he didn't say a word but "um."

"Cold shower sound like a good idea?" she said in desperation. Now, left unattended-to, it was starting to hurt.

There was another moment of awkward silence, long enough that Lily began to think James was staring just a bit too long down there. But he finally blinked, swallowed, and managed to say, "I think you better do that as soon as possible."

"Right." Lily nodded nervously and maneuvered -- very, very carefully -- off the bed. She could hear James groan behind her and flump, probably face-down, into a pillow, as soon as she crept upstairs and past Sirius and Remus still asleep in bed, and locked the bathroom door behind her.

Lily moved fast once she was in there, pulling off her pyjamas without looking down, and (still being Lily, she thought firmly, and not Sirius) folding them up to set aside instead of throwing them in a corner and rushing headlong into the shower like she wanted to.

Then she double-checked the lock, just in case. I don't think I could bear having anyone walk in, she thought with a shudder. Not during... this.

She turned to push the shower curtain aside and (wincing as she bended) turn on the tap. Water shot out of the faucet, promisingly cold. Things were looking up. Mostly because she refused to look down.

The real trouble happened when she stood to step in, and just for that second, found herself facing the mirror. Suddenly, all she could manage to do was stare.

She'd never seen Sirius naked before. Shirtless, yes, for he was a chronic sun-worshipper in summer, and shed as much of his clothes as he could -- she'd often quipped that he might as well just run around starkers for all he was managing to display. But there'd obviously still been secrets to him then, which had now most certainly fallen away.

And... well, suddenly everything about this was different.

"Don't you dare say anything," she said at the mirror, which fortunately obeyed, and didn't say a word about how low her voice had gone.

Lily ran a hand through Sirius' hair, watching how the fingers looked as they slipped through the dark strands, then dropped and rested on her -- his? - collarbone. Sirius was gorgeous, she admitted, possibly for the first time, although she'd always known it was true. Broad chest, more muscular there and in the arms than James was, not so much hair, perfectly-tanned and smooth under her wandering fingertips... while she stared, stunned she was doing this, her fingers drifted down, heading for the constellation tattoo she hadn't seen before on his hip --

But she brushed a nipple as she moved, and the sweet, aching sensitivity made... that twitch again. And finally she had no choice but to look all the way down.

She'd seen it yesterday in the bathroom, yes, but... oh.

She stood there, stuck somewhere between arousal and resignation. This body knew very well what it wanted, and it was not for Lily to stand there thinking about it for much longer. Nor was it for Lily to step into cold water. Bracing herself, Lily ducked beneath the water flow to adjust it to a comfortable temperature before stepping in.

And it felt safe enough, under the sound of the rushing water and in the darker, curtained space, to let go.

Under the rush of pleasure that soon came, she had to admit that this was a bloody revelation.

Much later, her orgasm-wracked body, trembling everywhere, told her it might be a good idea to sit down. She let her weak knees fold, sitting with a loud thump on the bottom of the shower stall. The water kept shooting down over her head, washing away the evidence of what she'd done -- but her hand, knowing full well what she'd done with or without the evidence, was still stroking lightly, making her gasp in little hitches at the shivery sensation tingling from there and outwards through her entire body.

It wasn't until then that she was interrupted by a hesitant knock on the door.

She turned, gulping in air, her hand stilling in panic. Whoever-it-was outside knocked again a moment later. "Lily?"

She was only faintly relieved to hear it was James. She took a deep breath, but didn't say anything. She'd made too much noise already, for he'd certainly heard the thump, and God knew what else.... She shivered and squeezed her eyes shut, listening to James ask, "You okay in there?"

She had to try terribly hard not to laugh at how utterly, pathetically inadequate the word "okay" was just now for how she was feeling.

Instead of admitting the impossible, though, she hauled in a breath and bellowed, "Fine!"

In Sirius' confident voice, it was obviously convincing enough. She could hear, barely, James walking away.

Then she sighed.

Sirius' voice.

Sirius.

She looked down at him, at herself, and realized she was stroking fingertips again over inch after inch of his so-easily-aroused body. She breathed deep, then sighed. She couldn't take the time to do this again, or James would really wonder.

But it just all felt far, far, far too good.

Lily gave herself one more tillitating stroke, then forced herself to stop, turn off the water, and lean back to catch her breath. For a minute she didn't do anything but stare at the wall.

When her final commentary came, it came in one whispered burst.

"Lucky bastard," Lily said -- over a barely-suppressed, and jealous, laugh.

Then she pushed herself to her feet, and tried to prepare herself to... face herself, out there in her room, in bed with Remus Lupin.

If this could get any stranger, she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to know how.

---

Sirius had to wonder at Lily that morning. She seemed... comfortable, almost relaxed, in a way she hadn't yesterday. When he found her she was curled into a chair, reading the Prophet, and had one leg bent over the arm of the chair in a way that looked... well, suspiciously like how he might sit. The only motion she made that indicated any awkwardness was an occasional rub at one hand, like she'd hurt something there. And she better not have....

Something twitched in his jaw while he watched her relax again -- but it was her jaw, really, and that was the trouble. How can she be so at ease in there? he thought, ridiculously jealous for a split second.

Then she flipped the page to read something -- and all at once, her whole posture tensed. Sirius walked a little closer, clearing his throat. "Lily?"

She nearly jumped. Sirius watched his body straighten up, his eyes go wide, and Lily was suddenly almost visible in there as she said, "Sirius." She cleared her throat too. "How are you feeling?"

He thought a minute before sitting on the edge of the transfigured sofa. "Not too bad," he finally said. "Could I see that?"

"Just a second." She finished reading the column she was on, made a face, and handed it over. "Two more disappearances since Friday," she said. "Muggle-borns both."

Sirius swore under his breath and looked at his own blunt-tipped finger, tapping against the paper as she held it up for him to see. The faces of the missing witches smiled at him, captured in much happier moments than the headline declared: Witches Missing; Ministry Offers Reward For Clues.

"Can't be that much of a reward," Sirius muttered, taking the paper and studying it. "If it's buried this far in...."

"It can't be that much of a mystery, either," Lily said, shaking her head. "But they're avoiding it entirely. They don't mention the Death Eaters once."

"Idiots," Sirius muttered.

As he read, Lily sat up and asked, "Do you want anything? Tea? I usually have--"

"I'll get it," came a voice from behind them. Sirius glanced up to see Peter, a little dark-eyed still from sleep, stepping behind the kitchen counter and rooting around for cups.

"He's been getting things for me all morning," Lily said quietly, leaning closer to Sirius' ear. "I think he's feeling guilty."

"He ought to," Sirius muttered back. Lily gave him an odd look, but fell silent and let him finish reading the article.

When Peter returned with the tea, Lily tipped in a little milk before sipping; Sirius didn't bother. He took it straight, paying more attention to what the paper was and wasn't saying -- witches gone from the same town, last seen by friends on the way home from....

"Morning," he heard. Remus' hand had dropped to his shoulder, resting there gently. Sirius leaned to rub his cheek against it before going back to the paper.

"I wonder what Dumbledore knows," Sirius murmured.

"Trouble?"

Sirius shrugged, finally looking up at him. "Isn't there usually?"

Remus quirked a wry smile at him. "In this house especially."

James chose that moment to walk into the room, nominally-dressed but still tousling his shower-wet hair with a towel. "Is someone insulting my home? Under its roof?"

"Yeah, but not to your face," Sirius drawled. "That's something. Here, read this."

James took it while Sirius finished his tea. Peter went about cleaning everything up; Sirius was too busy watching the increasing frown on James' face, and listening to him murmur, "I know Mary," to see Peter pause at the window and stare. Everyone did notice the squeak, however, as he pushed open the windowpane.

"Something's coming," he said.

In a low whoosh of beating wings, a great horned owl swept up and landed on the perch-ridged sill. Peter rooted in his pocket for a sickle or two, but stopped when the owl dropped his envelope -- and showed the nameless face of it. Peter picked it up, staring. The only identifying factor Sirius could see was the faint outline of phoenix wings on the seal.

"Whose is it?" Peter murmured. The owl hooted once, haughtily, as if to say he was above such questions, and turned to fly away.

James cast one more concerned look at the Prophet before he handed it back to Sirius and reached out. "Let me see."

Peter handed the envelope over. James took it and slid a finger toward the seal -- then yelped. "Damn," he muttered, shaking his hand as if he'd burned it. "Not mine."

Peter reached for his wand. "Here, let me try --"

James gave it back with all haste. "Be my guest."

Peter left the seal alone, but tapped it once and murmured, "Patesco." The seal flashed again, but stayed shut. Peter shook his head. "Lily?"

He passed it to her. Lily, who hadn't performed a spell since the swap, glanced at Sirius hesitantly. "What do you think?"

"I think you better try," Sirius said. "And, well... better you than me, first."

Lily glanced at her own pregnant stomach, one body away; her lips tightened. Then she stood and went to open a slender drawer in the cabinet, where she must have left her wand before going to sleep the night before. When she pulled it out, it looked so foreign in Sirius' hand that everyone stared.

She took a deep breath, opened her mouth and pointed the slender birch rod. Sirius half-expected everything to explode, but the wand obviously recognized the mind, not the hand, and the spell went harmlessly... and ineffectually. The seal glowed, but didn't break.

"Here," she said, handing the envelope to Sirius. "I think we're all right."

Sirius had taken his wand with him after he'd left his flat yesterday, but he'd hardly touched it since. Remus had already gone to get it -- or maybe he'd had it with him all along -- for Sirius just felt another little tap on his shoulder, and Remus passed the wand over. "Give it a try," he said.

Sirius nodded, wrapping Lily's delicate fingers around the handgrip; they looked so pale and small against the wood.... "Patesco," he murmured, as he touched the wand to the paper.

Even the small rush of magic felt so good after a day without that he almost felt like himself again --

--and seeing "Sirius Black" scroll across the envelope in elaborate script made him breathe a shuddering sigh of relief.

He flipped it over, watching the seal pop open without even a touch.

Mr. Black --
We require your assistance and for you to meet us today at 11 o'clock for a debriefing. Meet us at the Forest House. Do not Floo directly or Apparate within a half-mile.

The message ended there. Sirius looked it over, thinking, before the paper suddenly echoed the behavior of the phoenix that had sealed it, and flared up so quickly he didn't even feel the heat before all he held was ash.

There was silence for a moment. It was Peter who first murmured, "A call to Order...."

"Must be about them," James replied, looking at the newspaper in his hands. "I'll bet you anything it's about them."

"If so, and if it's Death Eaters, that's high-risk," Remus murmured.

Sirius brushed off his hands, leaned back, and looked at them all -- then at Lily. His own face, with Lily's concern clear in it, looked back.

"Now what?" he asked.

---

The Forest House, despite its name, was a small building crowded in by others, old and indistinct. Passers-by would notice nothing at all unusual about it; they likely wouldn't notice it was even there. Only a wizard or witch paying too much attention would see it -- and more to the point, see the faint silhouettes of trees in the window, a reflection of a forest which no longer stood across the street to be reflected at all.

Lily touched the doorknob carefully, bracing herself for the unknown.

This house knew Sirius, and it knew Lily, but which of the two would it accept, especially since she hadn't been here in months? Would it accept her at all? And what would the Order do if --

Lily swallowed hard, feeling foolhardy and foolish, but she had no choice.

"We could just tell them --" Remus tried.

"And that would go over so well," James snapped. "Important Order members mucking about with stupid body-swapping spells -- we'd all be lucky to keep our necks."

"Can we postpone? Or delegate this assignment to someone else?"

"I doubt it," Peter said, shaking his head. "They obviously wanted Sirius for the job."

James held up his hand to prove the point: a dark red mark still streaked down the length of his index finger. Lily watched her husband and finally just shook her head too. "They don't want me either," she said. "But I have to go."

And even Sirius nodded slowly in agreement... or at least concession.

The Forest House's doorknob warmed under Lily's fingers. "Password?" she heard, in a brassy sort of whisper.

"Wood nymph," she said. The doorknob cooled and twisted under her hand. After a small sigh of relief, she walked in.

The entry hall stayed dark until she closed the door behind her; at that moment, four small lamps lit themselves above her head. Dark wood shone under the warm light, and a mirror glinted, catching her eye and making her look sideways. There she saw Sirius, standing tall but looking uncharacteristically nervous. Lily schooled her expression into one more like his as quickly as she could.

Just then, she heard a voice say, "Ah. Morning, Mr. Black...."

She turned. A young wizard she didn't know, skinny and caramel-haired, was walking toward her, with a bundle of papers threatening to escape from his arms. Lily reached forward to snatch one back up when it slipped free.

"Oh," he said with a nervous laugh. "Thank you -- I'll -- I'll take that...."

He seemed in a hurry to retrieve it. Lily caught only a glimpse of the words before he awkwardly took it back: Mary Anstey, 22, Muggle-born witch strong in potions and charms....

"I knew Mary," James murmured again. "From school...."

"Kind of tall, red hair?" Sirius asked slowly. James nodded. "Didn't you try to date her?"

"I did, just the once," James said, rereading the article. "She kissed me, too, but she...."

He blushed suddenly, looking between his wife and his best friend. Sirius finished the sentence. "She found out you wanted Lily."

Lily looked at Sirius, and the red hair, and had no idea what to say.

She wasn't sure what to say, either, to this nervous-looking young wizard reshuffling paperwork in his arms. Finally she managed, "Are you in charge of this operation...?"

"Me? Oh, Merlin, no. I just got assigned to help. I'm running papers, see." He grinned and twitched his head toward a door across the room. "You're wanted in there. Best hurry."

Lily arched her eyebrows, hoping all the papers the boy was carrying would get where they needed to... but then she realized just how young this boy must really have been if that was his job, and sighed as she went to the door.

Figuring Sirius wouldn't have knocked, she opened the leaf-engraved door straightaway. "Hello?"

A gruff and unmistakable voice eventually answered. "Get in and shut the door, Mr. Black."

Oh, bloody hell, Lily thought.

"Do you even know who sent you this message?"

Sirius shrugged at Lily while she pulled on his raincoat to go out the door. "They've got a scribe now to write these out, so everything's anonymous. Same handwriting as always." He rubbed one hand over his face. "Mad-Eye's usually the only one that terse, though..."

The scribe, certainly, was that young man out in the hallway. The other -- well, Sirius had been right.

"Moody," she said carefully, and clicked the door shut.

Alastor Moody was bent over a stack of papers, furiously scribbling things with one hand while another quill took its own notes on the other end of the table. Lily watched the parchment flip over so the quill could begin writing something on the opposite side. It began with the names Mary Anstey and Rosalind Cove.

For all that Moody's attention was anchored to the work in front of him, though, his magical eye was swiveling madly. Eventually it stilled when it landed on her. Lily had to fight herself not to be queasy when the rest of his head lifted to match.

"First time you've ever shown up on time, Black," Moody said.

She glanced at the page again. "Kind of an important one, sir."

"They're all important, Black." Moody shoved back the papers he was working on. "Sit down."

Lily made herself move slowly, casually, as if the move were Sirius' own decision -- but all she wanted was to park herself and shrink down. Moody made her nervous.

"Yes, it's our lost souls," Moody said, jabbing one finger at the papers. There were photos there, she saw -- different from the ones in the Prophet. These showed the two girls with their families, looking almost ridiculously happy. "We've had word about their whereabouts. Don't know if they're alive, dead, under guard, or abandoned. You're coming with me to find out and, if we can, get them out of there."

Lily blinked. Working with Moody, on a rescue.... "When, sir?" she said uneasily.

Moody glared at her. "Now, of course. What, did you have a hair appointment?"

She tried to glare back. She wasn't sure it worked.

Moody's eye rolled, but he continued without further comment. "We can fly partway there, then we'll have to walk into the target area, under cover. It's strong Death Eater territory, so we'll have to be especially vigi... what are you doing carrying that wand?"

Moody's magical eye had shot down to where she'd tucked her wand into her belt, beneath the fabric of her coat. It was hidden, but that didn't matter to Moody -- he could see anything. And it was her wand. Lily's wand. Damn it, she hadn't even thought. Slender, birch, unmistakable....

Lily stopped and thought very, very fast.

"We're compatible, believe it or not," she said, putting one hand to the wand almost in reflex. "I've used hers before. It's better for stealth work -- mine tends to... well... be dramatic."

"Let me see," Moody demanded. "You better be right, because if you're messing around now you're both in deep dragonshit."

Lily, knowing all too well this was true, tugged the wand out and looked for a suitable target. There wasn't much here, in Moody's office of all places, she dared disturb... eventually, trying to look casual about it, she pointed at the two paintings on the wall. "Commuto," she murmured.

With a quick swish and flick, both paintings lifted from their hangers, and in swift silence they exchanged places. Moody watched as the paintings sailed across the room, poised over the nails and settled into place. Only one of them -- the larger frame, picturing a leaf-bare tree silhouetted against the sky -- swung a little when it landed, until it slid to center. Otherwise the exchange worked perfectly.

Lily tried to relax as she lowered her wand. It was difficult, however, with Moody giving her that kind of stare. It wasn't skeptical, exactly, and it wasn't knowing, because there was a slightly perplexed edge to it, but....

She sat still, then gave him as Sirius-like a shrug as she could manage.

Moody's eyes rolled again -- both of them this time -- at the gesture. "Cocky," he muttered as he stood up. "And I'd always thought you two were too much alike for your own good."

Lily sputtered. "What?" He said nothing. "I am nothing like--"

She trailed off, suddenly wondering if he'd meant to draw a comparison on both halves. Cocky? He thinks I'm...?

She hid a wince. The idea that Moody was saying she and Sirius shared that quality equally, among many others, didn't help much.

Moody went to the hatrack in the corner of the room, and jammed a ragged hat on his head that hardly looked discreet enough for an exercise in subterfuge. "Come on, Black," he said roughly. "Let's get ready to go."

Lily got up, still silent, and glanced at his desk, seeing again the photographs of Mary and Rosalind. They were still smiling and waving up at her.

"She was such a sweet girl," James said, while he stared at the newspaper. Only Lily seemed to notice he was already using the past tense.

Realizing at last what she was really in for, Lily looked back at Moody, who'd opened the door and was waiting for her to follow.

You've got work to do, she thought. And maybe a point to prove....

With a strange, mixed sense of fear and determination settling over her, she went.