In Curves, Not Angles

Part 6

James woke the next morning to a crash, then a thud, and a distant, muffled, "oh, fuck."

He squinted his eyes open, unsure for a moment of exactly where he was, or why. The floor? Why am I on the f-- was all he managed to think, before he murmured his own "oh, fuck," with some awe as he remembered -- and then he went through a bizarre handful of seconds of trying to process that, at the same time as figuring out why someone was swearing, downstairs, in Lily's voice.

Sirius, he thought. He's back.

And then: I just had sex with Lily. Who's in Sirius' body. And he's downstairs, in hers. And she's--

He rolled over, on the still-magically-padded carpet. She had been lying beside him, after they'd fallen onto it the night before and were too shagged out to bother getting up. The space, however, was now empty.

Great. She could be anywhere.

There was another sound from downstairs, something loud and rattling, and another familiar raised voice. "Sirius, not that cupboard--"

James revised the earlier thought. All right, they're both in the kitchen....

Another remarkably loud clatter followed.

"I better get down there before someone destroys something," James muttered, trying to get himself up.

The scene, when he arrived, was -- if not in a state of utter destruction -- still chaotic. Lily, her face red, was pinching the bridge of her nose (and it still looked bizarre, seeing her do it through Sirius' body), while Sirius, who had found the apron Petunia sent Lily as the only Christmas present they'd ever received from the Dursleys, and for reasons utterly inexplicable had put it on, was standing over the counter in a faint cloud of what might have been flour.

"I," James began. He paused a moment, fumbling, and finally ended with, "What?"

Lily gave him a pained smile. "You really can sleep through anything. He's been at this for the past twenty minutes."

"I need a spatula," Sirius muttered. He was rooting through the drawer where they kept the napkins.

"What is he trying to make?" James asked in a daze, as if Sirius wasn't there.

Lily looked just as dazed. "I have no idea." She stopped and shook her head, then lunged out suddenly. "Here, Sirius -- wait --"

Somewhere under the counter, there was a shifting sound and another thud, as if a delayed-reaction collapse had just taken out a large pan. And from the volume of the thud, the pan might well have contained the entire contents of the refrigerator. James shut his eyes.

"Sirius," he said, "get out of my kitchen."

There was a small pause. James peeked out at last at Sirius, seeing Lily's hair in a flour-dusted cloud around the face his best friend was borrowing. His expression looked slightly injured. "I was just trying to...." Sirius said, but trailed off, and looked at the pile of supplies in front of him -- eggs, milk, and bread were recognizable, along with an assortment of things James felt sure had nothing to do with breakfast. "Make something," he finished.

"Shouldn't you be at home?" James asked, his eyes a little wide. "I mean...."

"Was home," Sirius said, more shortly. James finally noticed he was holding a whisk, which he was tapping against the counter in an agitated pattern. "Came back. Lily, can you hand me that towel?"

She passed it over wordlessly, watching him wipe out a bowl, and James was rather impressed that Lily didn't immediately snatch it back and start cleaning the kitchen the proper way. On the other hand, he reflected, she was probably a little too stunned to try.

"What happened?" Lily finally asked.

Sirius, very quietly, addressed his reply to the bottom of the bowl. "We just... argued. Things got tense, I came here. Slept on the couch, actually." He sighed; Lily looked worried, but Sirius ignored it. "I'm fine, just tired."

"How long have you been here, then?" James asked, feeling a small worry prick at him. Lily, from the look she shot at him, was feeling exactly the same one.

Sirius, though, shrugged. "No idea. I came in and fell asleep right away. Heard a weird noise at one point, but I might have been dreaming...."

James rubbed the back of his neck. "Er, I'm sure you were. Um--"

"Unless -- I know you listen for anything suspicious." Sirius paused. "Did you hear anything?"

Lily rushed to say, "No, no. Didn't hear anything. At all." James stopped himself three words in, after he realized he was babbling a near-identical denial over hers.

Sirius looked at them both. They tried to keep their expressions as innocent as possible. But Sirius glanced at the ceiling, then back at them, as if he were putting two and two together -- and visibly deflated. "Not you, too," he groaned.

"Um," James said again.

Lily's voice was quieter. "Too?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Sirius muttered, as he went to get something out of another drawer.

James, feeling nervous, went to stop him. "Sirius," he said, but Sirius shook him off.

"Doesn't matter. I mean -- I'm not upset." Which was a lie, James knew. Even in Lily's body, the tense pose was unmistakable. "She's your wife. You were glad she was back and safe. It's... I get it." He cracked a wry smile. "It's kinky as fuck and I ought to take you straight to the Ministry for indecent uses of a stolen body, and believe me, Prongs, your sexual reputation is bound for some serious adjustments, but I get it."

"You probably just wish you'd been there," James shot back, trying to smile, too.

"I only hope you're glad I wasn't." At that, his voice sounded a little strained.

James sighed. "It was about Lily," he said, hoping Sirius would believe him. "Not that I -- I mean, you're... well, you know."

Sirius gave him a long, long look. Finally one corner of his mouth twitched up. "Serious adjustments, Potter."

James twitched. "It is far too early in the morning to be having this conversation," he muttered back.

Lily hadn't said anything throughout this, but James saw her then, looking tense and distracted, in his peripheral vision. He turned a little, blinking at her through thumb-smudged glasses (she must have done that last night, he thought, when we were--).

"What about Remus?" she asked.

The question dropped on Sirius like he'd been waiting for it, and dreading it. James turned and stared at him -- as his mouth opened and struggled around the opening syllable of a word, however, the house's ward-chime rang a G-major chord.

"Peter," Sirius said instead, like he was grasping for distractions. James was still just sleepy enough -- and confused enough by everything -- to get easily distracted himself. He leaned over to peer at the door as Peter came up and opened it.

"Morning," Peter called.

"My savior," Sirius immediately exclaimed. James almost made a sarcastic remark, but then the smells hit him, and he realized what Sirius had (probably) meant; Peter had come bearing breakfast. Wafting up from the bag in his arms was the unmistakable scent of fresh bread, and fruit, and....

"Should have enough for all of us," Peter said, looking around him at the room. "Although there's one extra... and er." He stopped short before the counter. "What happened here?"

"Breakfast," James supplied, as he hustled to clear away a spot. "Sirius' first go at it, anyway."

Peter looked nonplussed. "Why didn't you stop him?"

"I tried," was Lily's weary answer. Peter smiled and shook his head as he unloaded the food.

Sirius just made a face. "Listen," he said, sounding like he was trying to be as sensible as possible, "I came in with the intention of making something, and I'm honestly not hopeless; I do feed myself, you know -- is that hazelnut yogurt?"

"I'm allergic," Lily said. Sirius, who was already holding the container, immediately looked so sorrowful that she didn't take long to take pity on him. "Only joking."

"Wicked woman," he said, snatching up a spoon and peeling off the lid. "Anyway. You've just got this -- this... Muggle kitchen, and I'm not used to it."

Lily reached for a pastry. "It's how I learned to cook." She took a bite and swallowed; James reflected that Sirius probably wouldn't have waited to finish chewing before continuing the sentence, but with Lily at the wheel, he had much better table manners. "It's perfectly spell-compatible, though."

Sirius made no particular comment; he took in a big mouthful of the yogurt and then stirred, pushing it around. James raised an eyebrow. Peter, though, was the one who asked. "Did you try any?"

Sirius sighed and gulped down some more. "Yeah," he confessed. James finally saw his wand jammed into his back pocket. "It just... didn't go off right."

"What happened?" Lily asked warily.

"The flour bag exploded," he said, glancing at the floor. "'Swhat woke you up. I think I cleaned up most of it."

Lily shut her eyes. James, though, wondered aloud, "I thought your magic was working. You didn't have any trouble with the wand yesterday."

"That was a smaller spell, I guess," Peter said. "And you said you were tired...."

"And pregnant," Lily said. Sirius glanced up at her. "It takes a lot of your energy."

He didn't say anything for a minute. "You mean that's normal?" She winced a little and nodded. "How can you stand it? I felt like --"

"It got away from you?" she suggested, and sighed. "You... do get used to it. It's just that you have to be careful, and focus a little harder, and make sure you're eating well and rested."

"You should've said something," Sirius said. James, glancing sharply at his wife, had to agree. He didn't say anything, though, because Lily already looked a little pale.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I wasn't expecting you to...."

She waved a hand out across the kitchen, which was still a mess everywhere other than where Peter had laid out the food. Everyone stared at it for a few speechless seconds before Lily said, somewhat weakly, "I'll clean up."

While she started sorting out the debris, Sirius heaved a sigh. "At least you salvaged things. Thanks."

"Least I could do," Peter said, sounding a little embarrassed. "I thought you might need a few things."

"Looks like we're running low on milk, too," Lily agreed, as she studied the bottle.

"I'm not," Sirius muttered under his breath.

James had to try very hard for a moment not to choke. Peter, for his part, flushed and then ignored it, which was probably the wisest course of action.

"Maybe you should go out today," Peter suggested to Lily, who paused at the end of the counter to look at him, a pan in each hand. "You'd feel better if you did. Just... go shopping, get whatever else you need."

"Something mundane would help," she admitted with a sigh.

"I'm going too," Sirius said suddenly, surprising all of them; Lily especially stood straight and startled. "I have got to get out of this house. No offense, James, but -- I need some air." He made a face. "And I really don't feel like going home."

Wondering again just what had happened the night before, James blinked at him, took off his glasses to rub them clean, and shrugged as he put them back on. "I... how far are you going?"

"Just down to the High Street -- you know it's not far," Lily said. A sudden, mischievous smile crossed her face. "And I can introduce you to a Muggle grocer's."

Sirius looked slightly alarmed. "You mean with... pre-packaged food and shopping trolleys that--"

"Don't push themselves. I know, it'll be a real hardship for you."

He gave her a quite decisive glare; it didn't waver when Lily's musical laugh rang out -- shifted down, of course, by several keys.

"It's all a good idea, though, I think," Peter said. "It'll be good for you to talk, anyway."

James nodded a little in concession. "Just try not to kill each other," he said.

Lily, stowing the last of the mixing bowls and leaning across to put the eggs back in the fridge, turned and gave him a twinkling smile after she'd shut the door. "It's just groceries," she said. "What can possibly go wrong?"

James exercised very careful control and did not mention the mess she'd just been cleaning up.

Instead, he turned to Peter and quietly said in his ear, "And could you go check on Moony?" Peter, slightly wide-eyed, nodded.

And James, whose day was full of Order business that required being somewhere else entirely, could only watch nervously as they all walked out the door.

---

Remus felt sure it was a bad move to be lost-weekending his way through a Tuesday, but after his second glass of firewhiskey -- lifted, he had to admit, from James' supply from the party -- he stopped caring about that very much. Before him was a stack of books to read, a notebook, and two quills he'd sharpened before he began drinking, which, he reflected, was probably a good call.

It may have been the first good decision of the week. Last night --

Remus sighed. Last night had not been one of the good decisions.

But Lily -- how could I be expected not to remember --

Remus scrubbed at his eyes with tired hands and tried to go back to the letters he was writing, but words were already blurring together and the bottle looked more tempting. Anything to get his mind off that look on Sirius' face --

Behind him, there was a knock on the door.

After a minute, and another knock, Remus pushed his chair back and went to open it. "Peter?" he asked slowly, when he saw who was there.

"Moony." He stared back. "You look horrible."

"It's been a bad day." Remus glanced behind him at the table. "I... well. Come in."

"Why aren't you at work?" Peter asked.

Remus laughed, a bit wryly. "Why'd you know I'd be here?"

"I went to the office first." Remus turned to watch Peter as he talked. He always looked just a little anxious, Remus thought, like he knew he'd have to defend himself, even if the risk was nowhere in sight. Remus felt bad about it, most days. Today he wasn't sure whether he was sympathetic or impatient. "James sent me to check on you."

Remus sighed and nodded. Naturally. He sat back down, twiddling with his glass. "Tell me," he said, apropos of nothing in particular. "Is it cheating if I find myself watching Sirius and still feeling attracted, even though I know Lily's in there? Am I responding to the body, or the person inside? And what happens if I kiss another man's wife because the person I love is in there? Is that the act of cheating, or is that not cheating? Moreover--"

He stopped, pondering his drink again. Peter was looking thoroughly, and ever-increasingly, confused.

"I still don't think I'm drunk enough for this conversation," Remus said, with the most decisiveness he'd had all week.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Peter looked like he wanted to laugh, but felt it would be horribly inappropriate, and held it back. Remus gave him a good long look and finally laughed for him -- just once.

Peter, freed up, sort of shrugged.

"I doubt I am either," he said.

Remus quirked a wry smile at him. "Quite certainly not," he said, before he reached for another glass, and poured.

"To love, the grandest confusion," he said.

Peter's face, he reflected later, was completely inscrutable as he raised his own glass to clink.

---

"You are not buying alcohol."

"Ah, Lily. So little faith you have in the future." Sirius peered at the wine bottle. "By tomorrow I might be myself again, and have occasion to raise a toast--"

He broke off, reread the label, and reached for something stronger. Lily tried not to shake her head.

"--to the expectant parents."

"Who are expecting to be parents. And don't want you taking any sips early." Lily put the bottle back. steering Sirius toward a different aisle. "Let's get what we came here for."

"See, Lils," Sirius said as they walked, "that right there is the problem."

She paused mid-stride. "The problem?"

"You are decidedly bossy."

Lily, who was looking at the tea, turned and stared. Sirius kept going.

"You give me no credit," he said irritably, Lily braced herself, watching her own self criticize herself so. "You think you know how everything should be and I never meet your marks."

"So then you go exactly the opposite direction, just to make me angry," Lily said. "And I'm not that bad about things...."

Sirius reached for a carton of drinking chocolate mix. "They powder this stuff for you, hmm?"

"We aren't getting any of that, either," Lily said.

He raised an eyebrow. Lily sighed.

"Just me saying we're not buying drinking chocolate does not prove your entire point."

"No, but the defensiveness might." Sirius, looking a little tired, leaned against the shopping trolley. "I don't know how James puts up with it. Or Re--"

The second name cut off too quickly for Lily to respond to it, but it was enough to bring her own sentence to a stop. "Well, I'm --"

There was just a moment of awkward silence before Sirius plowed ahead and finished it for her.

"You're not so harsh with James." Sirius looked up at her. "Not so much as you are with me."

Lily, quietly, took the chocolate from him and set it into the trolley. "I suppose I'm not," she said. "But he is my husband..."

"I remember when you weren't so fond of him, either." He paused. "There were others you seemed to love more."

Oh, God, Lily thought, realizing all at once what must have happened last night.

"Sirius," she said, swallowing hard. There was something a little sad in her voice; she didn't want to say anything to hurt Sirius, not now. "Whatever things were like before... James grew up. So did I. And I love my husband."

Lily saw her own face turn toward her, the expression steady and eyes intent. "I know you do," Sirius said. "You might want to consider that we all do."

She leaned against the shopping trolley. The tone made her wonder what he really meant, but she didn't have to think about it long. Sirius, James' best friend for ten years now, and her, the woman who'd slipped in and changed everything....

"Were you ever jealous?" she asked softly.

Sirius didn't reply. Lily wondered if the silence was born of acquiescence, or simpler avoidance... or the other woman who'd just come walking down the aisle. And with that same thought, she had to shove a dozen thoughts of weddings out of her mind. If that was it, at the core --

"'Course," Sirius said simply. She winced. "And... well, you couldn't have expected me to like the do-gooder Head Girl either."

Lily said, with a faint fraction of a smile, "I wasn't always that much of a do-gooder."

He gave her a wry laugh. "Well, it took getting to know you to figure that out." He glanced at her. "So what have you figured out about me?"

Lily braced herself as Mary and Lindy's faces unexpectedly flashed across her mind. They were still so fresh in memory, especially the way they looked when they realized she was there to help....

"People really count on you," she said. "You're strong; you're always there when it counts...."

They exchanged a look.

"And I knew that," Lily said. "I have for a long time."

Sirius didn't say anything for a minute. "Well," he said eventually. He flashed a half-grin. "That's something."

Behind them, a young boy suddenly went running down the aisle, pursued by his mother; an elderly man followed behind. The store was getting busier. Lily looked around her, feeling too crowded for the conversation she wanted to have, and finally said, "Maybe we should go."

Sirius nodded and turned the trolley around, but paused and looked amongst the groceries, poking under one of the boxes. "What?" Lily asked.

"We'll need to get the milk first."

"Oh." Lily looked too. "You're right." Then she smiled. "I might domesticate you yet."

Sirius snorted a little. "Still bossy," he said under his breath.

There was a hint of a laugh in it. It wasn't much, but it was something, and enough to make Lily smile back.

---

Outside, it was unusually chilly for a late spring day. Lily shivered, wondering idly if she'd have felt as cold in her own body -- Sirius certainly didn't look it -- but at least she wasn't alone; the people around them were bundled up and looking just as disgusted with the weather as she.

"Peter keeps prescribing fresh air," she muttered, "but I think he's trying to give us pneumonia."

Sirius grinned and adjusted the bag he was carrying; Lily had the other two. "Ah, don't worry about Wormy. He bumbles, but he means well."

She glanced at him. "Even with this?"

Sirius quirked his eyebrows, then shrugged. "Well, we wouldn't ever have had this conversation without it, would we?"

"No," she admitted, and adjusted her own bags; they were awfully heavy. "Strange blessings...."

"As a general rule," Sirius told her, "we're all right, us Marauder boys."

"Are you ever going to tell me where that nickname came from?"

He smirked. "Maybe someday if you're very, very good."

They'd reached the corner, and paused to wait for the light to change. Lily wasn't entirely sure why they were bothering; there wasn't a car in sight. In fact, the foot traffic had vanished too. Lily leaned against the lightpost, looking down the street, as she asked, "So if I took a guess -- I mean, maybe being you will give me special intuition...."

Her voice trailed off. Sirius was laughing and saying, "Well, you're welcome to try," but she suddenly wasn't paying attention. Somewhere in the distance, something had moved....

"Lily?" Sirius asked. "You going to take a stab at it?"

She raised a hand to shush him. The wind had just gone decidedly colder. She frowned and turned to look behind her. "There's something--"

"Lily...."

She dropped her bags and spun, but she wasn't fast enough to reach for her wand in time, not before Sirius' warning cut off in a gasp.

An invisible blast of magic rippled out from a shadowy niche in a nearby wall, hitting Lily square in the chest and knocking her into the street. She landed, stunned and winded, and tried to reach again, but her hands weren't moving.

"Si--" she started to cry out, but her voice was almost instantly stifled, too.

It took tremendous effort to move. When she managed to lift her head, there was a man standing over her, his face hidden by a hood and his hands in gloves. In his left was a long ebony wand, pointing straight at her forehead.

"You," he hissed. "You cost me my prisoners."

"What?" Lily tried to whisper, but then all at once she realized what was happening, and a slow chill of dread went down her spine.

Mary and Lindy. And him--

They'd been followed.

"You think you got away unseen, but you're wrong -- and I'm going to take their worth right out of you."

"Expelliarmus!" Sirius bellowed behind them -- but before the spell was complete, he was cut off. Lily rolled to one side, trying to see what was going on, and saw two more cloaked Death Eaters restraining Sirius. He struggled, swearing, but they only gripped his arms tighter. His wand had fallen to the sidewalk.

"Or maybe I'll just take your little Mudblood friend in exchange," the man said, his voice dripping with disdain. Then he laughed. "Surely one pregnant girl must be as fun to damage as two were?"

Lily howled, and kicked her bound legs out with as much force as she could, just enough to strike his ankles and send him sprawling. And with that, they made a mistake. One of the two restraining Sirius let go and lurched forward to help the one who'd fallen. Sirius took the opportunity and twisted down for the wand.

Lily heard Sirius shout the spell to undo her partial Petrificus, just as one of the Death Eaters, she wasn't sure which, reached for her. She rolled free and grabbed her own wand, catching the eye of the one Death Eater still stubbornly holding onto Sirius' arm.

"Expelliarmus!" she yelled at him. The blast knocked him back and his wand flying; Sirius, freed, suddenly stumbled. Lily watched him land on his knees and outstretched hands with a harsh thump, knocking the wind from him, and she swallowed hard, nearly feeling the force of it through her own bones --

But she was getting wrenched upright, painfully manhandled by the other two Death Eaters, one of whom was twisting her arm back so sharply she screamed. The man who'd spoken first to her laughed. "See?" he hissed in her ear. "It works on little girls and little blood traitors...."

She almost wondered if it was some old reflex of Sirius' that made her yell back, "Eat shit, bastard," and raise her other, less-constrained elbow for a sharp blow to his stomach.

He retaliated with an even sharper blow to her jaw.

As she groaned and doubled over, she saw Sirius raising his wand. She couldn't quite tell through her pain-blurred vision, but it looked like his... her... hand was trembling....

Sirius shouted something; she couldn't hear what. The Death Eater she'd hit screamed and dropped to his knees, clenching his hands against his stomach as if he'd burned them. And then the last man standing raised his wand and pointed it at Sirius --

"No," Lily moaned.

Two curses blasted out simultaneously, one colored a vivid purple, the other blue-gray. They collided in the middle in a flash of magical sparks that spat out and smoked as they hit the pavement, and both roiled there, fighting to overtake the other. Lily watched, half-sick with pain and panic, as Sirius' spell wavered, trembling under the attacker's force --

Then he yelled, her voice forced so low and rough it almost sounded like his own, and the spell blasted forward in a shockwave that overwhelmed the Death Eater and knocked him flat to the ground.

Lily, even untargeted as she was, staggered under the force of it, watching the other man fall... and then she shut her eyes, losing several seconds to woozy, overwhelmed shock.

When she opened her eyes again, the entire scene was silent.

She pushed herself upright, groaning under the stabbing pain in her jaw, and slowly turned around. The three Death Eaters were unconscious on the pavement. One she'd felled -- but the other two....

"Sirius," she whispered, thinking of the tremendous force of magic that had done this. "Sirius...."

She turned.

Before her was her own body slumped to the ground, hair spilling all around like a pool of blood, her hand unclasped from the wand and lying frighteningly still.

"Sirius," she gasped, dropping to her knees and fumbling desperately for her own wand. Her voice almost shook too badly to spark off the spell for the emergency flare for help. "Oh, dear God, no."

She rolled him over and held on, feeling her heart clench at the unresponsive weight in her arms, the streak of blood down that pale face. Her hands shook, and as she tried to remember any healing spell she could, she thought of her baby, and wanted to cry.

Above them the emergency flare burned -- a phoenix, wings upraised, with its feathers lighting one by one into flame.