In Curves, Not Angles

Part 8

Lily woke slowly, feeling heavy and disoriented; it was as if she'd come out of a difficult dream, one that was still clinging to her, trying to drag her back in. The room's darkness was like a second blanket over her, as warm as Sirius' arm still draped over her hips. She sighed. He was still asleep behind her, only mumbling a little when she stirred, and she tried not to wake him when she stretched out a cramp in her leg; everything felt a little stiff, like she'd been sleeping wrong.

Everything felt a little... different....

It only took one more small, small movement for the reality to hit her full-force, and she gasped, immediately freezing in place. Her voice was small and quiet and full of wonder; her leg curled back up, stretched again, moved at the heel, wiggled its toes. It all felt familiar. It felt right. It was hers.

Lily spread her fingers -- small, delicate, feminine fingers -- and touched her face, feeling the slight upturn in her nose, the curve of her lips, the chin with its faint hint of a dimple. Then her hand slid under the blanket to brush the curve of her breasts and settle just below, on the swell of her belly. Tears stung at her eyes; she hardly dared move, as if the slightest motion would upset things and fling her out of this body again, but it was real. Real. And he was there--

"Oh, my God," she whispered, her voice trembling, but half with laughter. "Oh, my God...."

She curled up a little around him, her arm cradling herself as if to hug her baby -- little Harry in there, hers again, hers again, oh, sweet God in heaven....

Behind her, there was an inelegant groan, and the feel of shifting weight. Lily laughed again, turning her face into the pillow to try to muffle the sound, when she felt Sirius' morning erection brush against her -- That, she thought, I am not going to miss dealing with....

"Sirius," she said. And oh, her voice. Her voice. Sleep-rough but pitched just right and sweet and familiar and hers-- "Sirius, wake up."

He mumbled something incoherently; he'd obviously not realized yet what was happening. Lily rolled over -- with considerable difficulty, enough so that it was almost a surprise, although she should have expected it -- to face him.

Sirius. Incorrigible, impossible, indescribable Sirius, his face pale in the early-morning light, his hair not daring to look any worse than charmingly tousled. She had to admit, he was beautiful. She watched him, newly fascinated by seeing him through her own eyes again as he emerged from sleep, shifting his shoulders and trying to stretch -- because she could remember that now; she knew what that felt like, could close her eyes and imagine moving beneath his skin. There was something undeniably sensual about that, although he was spoiling the effect by grimacing at the morning taste in his mouth, and then scrubbing at his face with one hand like a sleepy six-year-old, scrunching up his nose. Lily smiled and curled up closer.

"Sirius," she whispered in his ear. She lifted one hand and touched his shoulder. "Sirius, it's me."

Sirius turned and put his arm around her, with the kind of lazy self-assurance that spoke of habits formed while sharing a bed -- with someone else. Because when he touched her, and felt her pregnant belly pressing against him, his eyes finally opened all the way. Only then did full realization hit. Lily could see it come to him in stages, like the words were flashing one by one in the air between them: That's not Remus. That's -- Lily. That's Lily. I'm not -- she's -- that's--

"Whoa," he said, gray eyes wide, his body tensing. "Whoa. You're. I'm...."

"Yes," she whispered, her smile spreading wider. "Yes."

Sirius pulled in a gasp, his gaze still flashing over her face like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Lily kept smiling when he touched her, sliding one hand over her hair and feeling the soft red curls between his fingers; he brought them up to his lips and then let them slide away while he touched his own face. She could see the utter shock in his expression start turning to stunned excitement, while he raked through his own hair, touched his chest, and -- oh, he would -- kept going down, his hand clutching right between his legs. And at that point apparently All Things Became Real. He let out a sudden whoop and shoved back the blankets to rise to his knees, staring down at himself.

"Holy motherfucking Merlin, I'm--"

"Male," Lily acknowledged, covering her eyes with one hand while she laughed. "Now, would you let go of that--"

She didn't quite finish the word, because Sirius had let out another ear-splitting cheer and flung his arms out wide. "It's over!" he hollered. "Back in Black, baby, and I am--"

He tumbled back down onto the bed, startling Lily into a shriek, for he'd planted his hands on either side of her and was laughing madly, tossing back his hair and bending down to kiss her solidly on the mouth, warmly and enthusiastically, and almost, for just a split second, sweetly. His gaze softened when he pushed himself back upright, and slid down to look at Lily properly.

"God, Lil," he whispered. "We're back. Are you...."

She stared at him, seeing a face she'd thought she'd learned from the inside out -- but no, this was Sirius, and that expression was new, something concerned and wondrous and joyful all at once. He looked, in fact, almost ready to cry again. She put a hand to his cheek, reveling in the sight of her own hand obeying her commands, and wanting to cry, too, to see him smile at her like that for the first time.

No wonder James always cared for him so much, she thought. And then, almost sadly: And no wonder Remus loves him.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "Thank you."

Sirius sat back on his heels and looked at her, his emotions clearly still too complicated to process. But then he shoved them all aside too quickly for her to fully interpret them, either, for now he was smiling again, and resting one hand on Lily's belly. "And you?" he asked it. "You okay in there--"

He ended on a little gasp; Lily echoed it precisely. Harry had just kicked her, right under Sirius' hand. Lily laughed, covering his hand with her own. "I think that's a 'yes.'"

"And I know how that feels, now," he murmured. Lily glanced up at him. "Now I know...."

His thumb rubbed over her nightgown, wrinkling the fabric, while Lily squeezed his hand and then let go. "Better than anyone," she said.

Sirius went silent a moment, then bent down and pressed a light kiss to her stomach, murmuring, "You be good to your mum, now. Don't give her any trouble."

She laughed. "I'm sure he will anyway...."

"Just tell me if he needs a talking-to," Sirius said, smiling once more as she stroked a hand over his hair, pulled him up to her again, and kissed his forehead.

"I promise," she said. And with Emmeline's warnings from last night beginning to echo in her mind again, she said, in a more melancholy tone, "And if I ever need your help...."

He looked back at her, earnest and intent. "You can trust me."

She nodded silently, and tugged him close, letting his forehead rest against hers, his hand still above Harry. She didn't want to think, in that moment, just to feel --

"Oi," she suddenly heard from the doorway. It was another familiar voice, sleep-heavy and hovering somewhere between amusement and annoyance. With the private moment broken, Lily blinked her eyes open and looked. "What do you think you're doing there with my wife, Black?"

Sirius lifted his head too, and instead of echoing Lily's reluctance, he slowly, slowly smirked, with a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. Without a word -- and with only the faintest of shushed hints to her to keep silent -- he rose and turned toward James, sliding off the bed.

Uh-oh, Lily thought, realizing what he was up to. All at once, she found herself having to suppress a laugh. Don't say a word, Lily. Don't say a word....

"Oh, James," Sirius said. Lily could hear a teasing note in his voice, an almost exaggerated simper, like he was trying too hard to sound feminine. He was going to milk this for all it was worth.... "It's nothing -- don't worry."

"Yeah, I just... you were just getting... a little cozy over there."

"I'd rather get cozy with you," Sirius said.

And, still smiling, he reached forward and pulled James into a kiss.

Lily pressed her hand to her mouth, watching as James went from startlement to acceptance, and curling his arms around Sirius for a light hug. She knew what kind of hug that was supposed to be. But Sirius was forcing the issue, opening his mouth wider and slipping one hand under James' shirt. Even while Lily wanted to giggle and cover her eyes, she felt a little flare of warmth in surprising places. Damn, she thought, watching Sirius snog the hell out of her husband. That... really is kind of sexy.

James looked like he was thinking so too, when Sirius pulled back and winked at him. "Um," James said, his voice faltering just a little. He looked uneasily at Lily on the bed. "Sorry, mate -- that was -- just...."

Sirius winked at Lily, too. She waved a hand and pushed herself more fully upright, groaning a little as she tried to find a comfortable spot against the pillows. "No, I know," she said, trying to sound as nonchalant and Sirius-like as possible. "A man's got needs."

"And I've got a need on me," Sirius said, his voice dropping lower. Lily very nearly lost it. Holy hell, is he going to-- "You think we could...?"

He made an unmistakable gesture. James flushed brilliant red; Lily had to slap a hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter. And then Sirius leaned forward, stroking one hand sensually down his side, and once, just once, rolling his hips in thoroughly indecent fashion, until James gasped--

Then he nuzzled close and whispered something into James' ear.

There was a moment of stunned silence before whatever Sirius had said sunk in. Then everything erupted.

"Holy shit," James hollered, pushing Sirius back -- Sirius burst out in a whoop of laughter, dancing in a wild circle and then tossing his head back, pointing at James and laughing.

"Got you," he laughed. James was still gasping, trying to catch his breath. "Got you, got you, got you, and you would have, you horny bugger--"

"I'm the horny bugger? You -- and you --" He pointed at Lily, eyes wide with near-indignant disbelief. She only let the laughter loose at last, letting it ring clear and bright in her own voice, her voice, her voice.... "You went along with--"

He stopped dead, suddenly just listening. At the look on his face, Lily's laugh softened; her head tilted a little to one side. "What?" she asked. James lurched forward, bending down beside her and staring.

"Do that again," he whispered.

She let out one more, slightly confused giggle. And then she understood, and gave him another honest laugh. "What, this?"

"Oh," James gasped softly, and laughed and cried out all at once, throwing his arms around her to hug her tightly. "Oh, Lily, Lily...."

She squeezed her eyes shut. James felt like he wanted to pull her out of the bed and swing her around, but they settled for hugging as tightly as possible, like they couldn't possibly get close enough. James, holding her -- holding her -- her hands on his back and his lips on her forehead, her cheek, his hand slipping to the curve of her breast --

"Oh, Lily," he said again, into the curve of her neck. "It's really you."

"Ohh...kay," Sirius drawled, while Lily hummed involuntarily with pleasure, and tangled her fingers in his hair. "If you two are about to have a husband-and-wife moment here, maybe I should go...."

"Maybe," Lily laughed quietly into James' ear; he was enthusiastically undoing the buttons at the collar of her nightgown. Horny bugger, indeed, she thought. And I have no... objections... at all....

"Right, then," Sirius said. James turned aside just a moment to look at him. "While you two get busy, I am going to go, turn a few cartwheels, feed my face with everything that made me feel queasy yesterday, piss standing up, shave properly, and have the best fucking wank of my life. And then I am going to Floo some people, so do at least try to be dressed by the time I'm done. Got that?"

Lily buried her face in James' shoulder, laughing again. "Thanks for sharing," she said. James only shook his head, speechless.

"Way to spoil the mood, Pads," he finally said. Sirius only smirked and gave them an exaggerated wave.

"Enjoy," he said. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Although she probably exhausted all possibilities a couple nights ago...."

They were both blushing fiercely by the time Sirius walked out the door, but then James just gave up, rolled the rest of the way onto the bed, and kissed her so soundly she forgot about absolutely everything in the world but him, and her, and Harry between them: a perfect circle, completed once more.

---

Skin, sinew, bone, muscle -- movement by movement, breath by breath, Sirius was taking stock of everything. He was marking the pace of his heartbeat, the flow of his blood, flexing his fingers and feeling the responses beneath his hand. It was his reflexes, his commands, his touch... all his. Sirius drank it all in, half-intoxicated on the rush of rightened physicality -- not to mention the sweet warmth of release and afterglow, for when he'd declared his to-do list to Lily and James, he hadn't been kidding. And he'd been reveling in every... single... thing.

Especially, he thought dazedly, this part.

It really was the best wank he'd ever had.

Sirius, having slid bonelessly to the floor of the small downstairs bathroom -- it wasn't much, but he'd take what space he could get -- was almost too busy just catching his breath to notice the sounds of footsteps on the stairs above him. Everything was tingling, his blood still warm in deep, pleasant places, and the way it felt even just to cast a simple cleaning charm and have it work exactly how he wanted it to, with no hitches or distractions or unexpected strains.... God, he'd never felt better.

There was, though, something just a little bit different to it all, he thought, while he got up to wash his hands for good measure and splash the cold water on his face, then sharply shake off the droplets in a cascade that sprayed all around the room; it made him grin wolfishly. There was something new, just a hint around the edges -- like he could still sense Lily's scent, or like there was just a little of her in that head-tilt, right there; nothing that felt wrong, but just enough that he could remember her, somehow....

"Sirius?" James called, interrupting his train of thought. "Are you done with yourself in there?"

Sirius shrugged it off and snorted a laugh. "What's the matter? Want to come join the fun?"

James thumped a hand on the door, like he was shoving at his shoulder to shut him up; Sirius grinned again. "Just get out of there; I'm going ahead and Flooing the boys if you're not."

At that, Sirius dried his hands, emerged from the bathroom, and belatedly zipped his trousers -- to Lily's evident amusement. She was looking comfortably rumpled herself, her hair in a fiery nimbus around her, and a warm smile on her face; she was wearing one of James' oversized shirts, its lowest and highest buttons left undone. "Morning again," she said lazily.

"Hey," said a third voice. Sirius blinked; Peter was already standing in the living room, running one hand nervously through his hair. After a moment he smiled. "Good to see you."

"He just got here -- right before I called," James explained.

Peter nodded in confirmation. "I wanted to check in, see how you were...."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius said. He waved one hand and dropped into a chair, first grinning up at Peter, then spreading his hands. "Guess what! Looks like your handiwork's finally resolved itself."

Peter looked somewhat sheepish even as he smiled, both at Sirius and Lily. "Oh, you must be so glad... how'd it happen? When?"

"James, why don't you call Remus?" Lily suggested. "So we only have to explain this once?"

James nodded and reached for the Floo powder. Peter, in the lull, looked like he wanted to sit down, but wasn't sure he should take the space beside Lily. After a minute of fidgeting, he settled for leaning on the wall beside the fireplace. He only jumped a little when the banked fire flared up green.

Sirius, though, was beginning to go tense. He hadn't spoken to Remus since that argument, and if he were being totally honest with himself, he'd have to admit he'd been avoiding it....

Stupid, he thought. You'll just talk, and go off with him, and things'll be back to normal soon enough. Just like with Lily. That turned out all right, didn't it?

He tapped his foot repeatedly against the floor. Yes, it was logical enough. But even so, he was holding his breath when Remus' tall, too-thin figure materialized and stepped into the room.

"Moony," Sirius said. His voice was just quiet and hopeful enough, the nickname just obvious enough, to give Remus pause. They exchanged stares -- Sirius' intense, Remus' wide-eyed -- and then they didn't have to say another word.

"You're back," Remus murmured. He glanced at Lily, then back at Sirius. "Thank God -- when did....?"

"Last night," Lily said.

Sirius leaned forward. "It was like Peter said," he told Remus, jerking his head in Peter's direction. "We just had to talk it out for good."

Lily smiled. "I think we finally really worked things out."

Remus returned the smile, his own only slightly fainter. "How long did that take?"

"We stayed up late together," Lily said, "after the attack..."

Remus' eyes went even wider. "The what?"

Sirius gaped, then sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "Bugger, no one told--?"

"I called both of you last night, but I think you were asleep -- neither of you replied," James said. He sighed. "Here, I'll fill you in...."

Sirius sat silently while James retold the story, beginning with how he'd heard about the attack from Lily's distress signal; Lily explained the spaces before and between. Remus looked alternately shocked, worried, and strangely distant, as if he didn't know what to say, and therefore had decided to say nothing. He sat in that spot on the couch between Lily and Sirius' chair, evenly spaced between the two, with his hands folded tightly.

"I wish you'd come and found me," he said after a minute. "Peter and me. We could have helped...."

"Actually, you were pretty drunk," Peter said quietly. When Remus looked up, his lips tightening and eyes dark, Peter just sighed. "Sorry."

"There wasn't much else to be done," James said. "We had it covered."

Remus let out a long breath. Lily reached out one hand and rubbed his shoulder; Sirius watched her do it, because it looked at once easy and awkward, like she didn't want to do too much of it. When James walked up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, she let go.

"I'm so sorry," Remus said. "I'm just.... God, I'm glad you're all right."

"Is there anything -- aftereffects?" Peter said, sounding nervous again. "Feeling ill at all, disoriented...?"

"No," Lily said. She laughed a little. "Except just... getting used to this again."

Sirius watched her rub her stomach and felt, for a very strange moment, an emotion flash over him that almost felt like loss. It was odd enough that he missed Peter's question, and had to be nudged into replying. "Oh. Um... yeah, I'm fine." He finally looked back up at Peter. "No nausea this time or anything."

"You both looked pretty... um... relaxed when I came in, really," Peter said with a nod, smiling a little. Lily laughed and blushed.

Remus flicked a gaze between the two of them, obviously catching the undercurrent of suggestion. And Sirius knew that Remus of all people would know exactly how Sirius looked when he was shagged out.... "Not with each other," Remus said, disbelieving; he only dropped it when James let out a burst of laughter.

"Dear God, no," he said. "Lily and me. And Sirius had some alone time once he was back in there."

"Although he certainly snogged the hell out of James this morning," Lily laughed, swatting teasingly at her husband's arm. "Just pulling his leg...."

James cracked a grin. "Well, after you pulled me...."

Remus shut his eyes and leaned his head wearily against the back of the couch. "So you proceeded to shag everyone but Lily somehow," he muttered. "That's rich."

Sirius, completely taken aback, peered at him. The temperature in the room seemed to have plunged at least ten degrees. "Someone clearly still has a hangover," Sirius said sharply. "Where did that come from?"

Peter laughed a little. "Well, Remus, he hasn't shagged me, if that helps...."

Sirius turned and glared at him. Peter sighed. "Never mind."

"Um, Remus? Is there something wrong?" Lily said, more gently. There was something in that tone of voice that snagged badly at Sirius, even if James didn't look bothered. Too bloody familiar of her....

"Nothing. Sorry." He rubbed a hand over his face, visibly collected himself, and smiled at her. Sirius knew that look, too. Things were clearly not all right. "Sirius is right... I'm just tired. So glad you're back, though."

Remus leaned forward and kissed her forehead, gently passing one hand over her tousled red hair, then turned back to Sirius. "I--"

"We better talk," Sirius said, curtailing him entirely as he rose to his feet. "Here, Peter... have a seat."

Remus looked up at him, making as if to say something else, and then he stopped, too. Instead, he turned to Lily and James, who just shrugged. Remus pushed himself upright; Sirius took him by the elbow and steered him toward the stairs, feeling Peter watching him in perplexity all the way.

"We'll be a few minutes," Sirius said. A wry smirk crossed his face. "No worries -- I know all the tricks to get him to loosen up."

James made a face, then half-laughed, and shooed them down the hall. "Just be back eventually," Lily said before they went. Her voice gave him pause; something sober and quiet had crept in. "There's something I want to talk to you about, Sirius."

Remus stiffened, possibly at his exclusion, and said nothing until they'd rounded the corner and gone upstairs, shutting themselves in Lily and James' bedroom for a little privacy. Only after Sirius was sure the door was locked did he turn back to Remus and wait for him to meet his eyes.

"What was that about down there?" Sirius asked quietly, while Remus sat back farther on the bed. Remus just shook his head.

"You said it yourself; I'm hung over...."

"That's not it. You've been all funny ever since... and don't give me that 'it's close to full moon' crap; I can see it on your face. Come on. And what were you doing getting drunk?"

Remus didn't quite look at him. "I just haven't felt... quite myself...."

Sirius snorted. "If anyone in the room should be saying that, it's not you."

"I know." Remus reached for Sirius, slowly clasping his long fingers around Sirius' hand and drawing him closer to the bed. "Just haven't quite known... where I fit...."

Sirius let himself be pulled. What Remus had said wasn't a complete answer, but he was still just keyed up enough that the press of skin against his was too much to resist. Forward he went, straddling Remus on the bed, looking down at him -- one of the few positions in which he ever could -- and felt himself breathing harder. "You're still all worked up over Lily," Sirius said. "Admit it."

Remus didn't say anything. Instead, his fingers got busy on Sirius' shirt, his eyes intent on their path down the buttons. Sirius, his nerves tingling with every brush of Remus' fingertips, made a low, slightly dangerous sound. "You still want Lily. You proved that two nights ago, no matter what you said, and you're angry with me." At the words, Remus' fingers yanked harder at the shirt, exposing Sirius' chest as it rose and fell with his tense breaths. "You're angry at me for being with her, too... even angry at her and my body for what it was doing without me -- that she wasn't with you in it--"

Remus growled right back at him, his chin snapping up. "Shut up."

Sirius shoved himself forward, toppling Remus flat onto the bed. He went down with him, grinding close and watching flashes of sensation ripple over Remus' face. "Lily and I fixed things by talking," Sirius said. "Lily. And me. Ought to be against all rules of God and man. And you don't want to?"

Remus shook his head sharply. "I just want you again," Remus said. His voice was low and rough, his body shifting under Sirius' in ways that were frazzling him past coherency. And Remus knows that, Sirius thought.... "I want things right." He rolled his hips, pressing hard and hot against him. "I just want."

Sirius pulled in one more ragged breath. "Doesn't mean you're any less angry...."

Remus reached up and pulled his head down. The move was so sudden, the kiss so fierce, that any more words flew clean out of his head. Fire wracked his body, sent desire rushing into dark places -- and this was nothing like the wank earlier, or the mischievous moment of eroticism with James, or the even the tender closeness he'd had with Lily, because he was right, he was so right, Remus was torn and frustrated and furious--

And he didn't want to talk. At all.

This isn't going to fix anything, part of Sirius was thinking, but Remus had his trousers undone and his hand around him. Sirius could only gasp helplessly and move within Remus' fingers, kiss him back, lose himself in that insistent heat and the orgasm coming over him like a freight train.

By the time it was done, they'd both collapsed onto the bed, breathless and speechless, still tangled together so closely they might be sharing a body. But Sirius knew what that felt like, now, to truly be in skin that wasn't his, and this wasn't it. Looking into Remus' lust-hazed but still-distant eyes made him feel like he'd never been farther from Remus in his life.

"Moony," he whispered. Remus stirred a little, tangling his fingers between Sirius' and holding on, but saying nothing. Sirius shook his head. "We've got to talk."

Remus finally focused on him, and Sirius felt sick to see something lonely and hurt hiding at the core. It was visible for just a split second before Remus shut his eyes. "I know," he whispered. "We must. But...."

Sirius crept even closer, if that were possible. He wanted to crawl right inside, into the center of his mind, know what was happening in there and why -- "But what?"

Remus kissed him, the touch slow and sweet and so, so warm that it almost didn't hurt when Remus finally replied, "Not yet, Sirius."

But it was only almost.

Even while Remus pulled him into a tight, needy embrace, his hands touching him so carefully, lips brushing once more against his, Sirius shivered. Silence, he thought. Silence, from Remus....

He thought of Lily and the things she'd murmured to him, the secrets, the intimacies, the easy, undemanding touch of her little hands. Then he looked down at Remus' long, long fingers twined with his, and didn't know what to think.

It's like I finally got to understand Lily. He listened to Remus sigh, and clung to the sound like it was every "I love you" ever spoken. It had to be something, after all. Something....

He shivered once more, wanting to grasp for the blankets, but not daring to let go.

I finally got Lily. But what exactly did I lose?

---

When Peter slipped out of the house, hardly anyone noticed. He gave James and Lily the same line about needing some fresh air; Lily laughed and asked if it was part of some new exercise regimen. He'd only laughed and shrugged and shook it off, pretending -- well, not so much pretending -- to be embarrassed at the suggestion he needed the exercise. And after that, Lily hushed herself and just let him go, paying little attention to his goodbyes.

She was busy with James. Sirius was busy with Remus. No one cared, exactly, what he was doing. He did suspect he'd have to think of a new excuse for his walks next time, though. There would definitely be more... there would always be more.

If, of course, he got through this one.

Peter's fingers nervously curled into fists and loosened, over and over, hidden in his coat pockets, as he walked away from the Potters' house and then Apparated into a wooded area far beyond. It was quiet here, especially as he disappeared farther into the trees; no one else was in sight. It was just him, looking anxiously around, and -- Peter squinted -- yes, there was a dark-clothed figure approaching from the south. He held his breath, leaned against the nearest tree, and tried to look casual while he waited. He still wasn't much good at faking that.

The person approaching him -- a young man, he saw, probably still in his late teens -- stepped over a fallen tree and then brushed off his trousers before he faced Peter. His eyes were sharp, his face pale and cold, his hair dark and shining as it fell across his forehead. "I was told someone important would be waiting," he said, his voice just a bit disdainful.

Peter gritted his teeth. "I was told to expect a guest," he said.

"Yes, yes, crow's wing and all that," drawled the boy, tossing off the code words like they didn't matter, and leaving them out of context. "You?"

"Ambergris," Peter said, similarly curt.

The boy sniffed and straightened his jacket over his shoulders, then lightly fingered the simple gold amulet around his neck before giving Peter a tight smile. "So. You have news to tell me? Go ahead, then."

Peter straightened up and gave him a long, suddenly-hard look.

He didn't even have the boy's name. He looked eerily familiar, but Peter knew not to think about it much, for he never knew who these people were -- he didn't want to. Ironically, considering the boy's greeting, they were not important. They always thought so, as soon as they got that little charm from their master, and they were always so, so surprised to find that they were wrong....

This one, at least, got past his irritation at Peter's silence and progressed well into nervousness before saying anything more. He was just bright enough to figure out something was up before Peter did it....

Pity.

"Excuse me," he said sharply, while Peter's wand raised. "But what exactly are you on about--"

"Permutatio," he said.

A spark of violet light, part of a spell that was so much like what had exchanged Lily and Sirius, flashed out and struck the amulet. It promptly exploded. The boy yelped, trying to shield his face, but it was too late. The light was everywhere now, flooding around him and through him, and turning an alarming shade of green --

And the boy's mind was flung away, to be replaced by the one to whom the amulet was tied.

Peter forced himself to stand still while the boy's body rebelled at the invasion, shaking and retching for a few sick moments before the new inhabitant dragged it upright and forced it silent. Peter swallowed hard. Those cold gray eyes had turned a solid, shimmering green, corner to corner, and glowing even through the eyelids when he blinked.

"Wormtail," the boy said, in a horrible hybrid voice not at all his own; it sounded like grinding stone and shrieking glass. When the mind within made the boy smile, the expression on his perfect, aristocratic face was terrifying. "You've come."

"Yes, my lord," Peter said, quaking just a little where he stood, and hoping it didn't show.

His master reached one slender finger to his face, studied it a moment, and then used it to flick away the thread of bile that had streaked his chin during the switch. He made just the slightest face, then held his hand out; Peter took the hint and thrust his handkerchief at him. He wiped it clean and cast the square of fabric aside. It flared into ashes before it hit the ground.

"Report," he said crisply.

Peter gathered in his breath and told him everything.

He told his master about the swap, and how subtly he'd been able to make it work, so neither Sirius nor Lily knew it was coming until it was too late; he said how worried everyone was afterward, how argumentative. He told his master how awkward Sirius felt in that body, how easy it would have been for him to... harm things. He told him how he'd exploited members of the Order to be sure Lily-as-Sirius was called into dangerous duty, so if she was hurt Sirius would be stranded where he was, only to waste away, little by little, while his dying body dragged them both down into darkness. He told him how he enacted the backup plan, told the other Death Eaters exactly where to find them both and begin the attack.

And Peter had to tell him, finally, how none of it had worked.

"It should have worked," he said, his voice trembling. "All of it. Any of it. I put myself on the line; I was willing to... even if Ja-- if Potter had known I was at fault for the switch, even if he'd have blamed me for everything that happened, it would have been worth it if it had worked. I was willing," he said, almost desperately. "I used my ties with them to every advantage I could. And it all...."

"Failed," his master said, the word sounding as deadly as a descending guillotine. Peter involuntarily put a hand to his throat. "They live. The pureblood traitor lives. The Mudblood lives. The baby, Wormtail, still lives."

"I thought it could take them all down at once," Peter said wretchedly. "I thought...."

That thin, pale hand reached out and gripped Peter's shoulder so tightly he whimpered. Damn it, Pettigrew, he berated himself. Don't look so weak. Don't look so weak....

"You didn't think. You schemed and plotted and came up with little games, Wormtail." The boy glared at him, those glowing green eyes boring deep. "You could have killed them outright. You hid instead behind a child's trick. You were not willing to risk anything real."

"But if I'd failed that, we'd have lost everything before I'd even begun," Peter babbled. "My lord, I... I could not risk it up front. I had to do something--"

"Tell me." He was smiling again, tossing back his hair in a haughty, too-familiar gesture, obviously borrowed from the boy; it made Peter's stomach turn. "Is there any reason you are still useful?"

Peter shut his eyes and cast about for anything in memory that he could reach. Any hint of physical weakness? No, Sirius and Lily had both said there was nothing. Any touch of lingering magic? No....

He blinked up at his master, feeling as though he were about to be sick, for the obvious answer had just come to him, as quietly and hauntingly as the person himself had, when he'd needed a comforting word while everything was breaking down around him....

"Remus Lupin," Peter said, his voice breaking. "S... Sirius Black's... lover. He--"

The boy's face had twisted into an ugly sneer at the word. "The creature and the traitor. Truly deserving of each other's filthy company. Go on."

Peter swallowed. "They fought," he said. "Something happened between R... Lupin and Black after the switch. Jealousies. Arguments. I don't know. Lupin got drunk and ranted at me for hours. I -- don't think it can possibly be resolved yet... if ever...."

The dark wizard within the boy made his fingers drum impatiently. "Tell me the relevance you see in this."

"Lily trusts Sirius now," Peter said slowly, thinking it through as he went. "And she's scared. I think... she may want to move, maybe hide. She'll entrust Sirius to help with this before she'll trust anyone else. And Sirius is James' best friend, so he will too." Peter dragged in a breath. "But if I can exploit the troubles with Remus to weaken Sirius...."

"More games, Wormtail."

"My lord," he said uneasily. "I know. But it may take time. It is safer to work subtly. If we do too much too soon, we may reveal everything, too soon for your own safety--"

The boy's hand, still gripping Peter's shoulder, finally loosened. Peter wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but that hand could just as easily be rising to strike him down, and he knew it. Instead he held his breath, until -- and even after -- the hand lifted his chin so those horrible eyes could stare straight into his own again.

"There are many games at play," he said. That voice was still making Peter shudder head to toe. "Yours is not the only one, and I do not have time to waste on dwelling on you. But you are stealthy, Wormtail, and I trust you the most with subterfuge." His lips creased upwards once more, in a tight, vile expression of pleasure. "And I enjoy watching people suffer slowly."

Peter couldn't stop himself from shuddering outright. The boy laughed at it, in a tone that made Peter want to clap his hands to his ears and scream --

"So play this game, Wormtail. Make them all distrust the ones they love. Destroy them from the inside out. And bring me my girls, like you have before -- these Mudblood weaklings who scream so well..."

Peter thought of them, of all of them, and shut his eyes. So many, he thought, seeing their faces flash by, the totality of it grim. And he'll want more and more of me while this goes on--

The fingers tightened on his chin, digging nails into the skin and pinching around the bone, making Peter choke back a moan. Those green eyes were so sharp on him, so knowing, so utterly impossible to satisfy....

"Do not fail me again, Wormtail," his master said, grinding out each word as he gripped tighter and tighter. "I will return for you."

When he released Peter, relief and pain flooded over him all at once, so harsh and overwhelming that he cried out and stumbled, just as the boy did. The spell of exchange was disintegrating. Peter pressed his back against the nearest tree again, counting on it to hold him upright, as the green light exploded away into the ether, and something much weaker, much fainter, imploded back into place --

And the boy screamed.

The body arched and spasmed, convulsing uncontrollably; Peter saw blood as the boy bit through his tongue, as he fell and struck his head, shaking and moaning and almost choking as he finally lost control and vomited helplessly. This spell was rougher than the one Peter had found; it was harsh, and swift, and brutally cast. It was not meant to protect the host.

And the wizard who'd overtaken this boy was far too powerful to leave anything left after the exchange.

Peter watched, feeling just as helpless as the boy beneath him, as he retched once more and slumped to the ground, still shuddering in terrible little fits. They usually didn't go this hard, Peter thought, as he forced himself to creep forward step by step. Normally the messengers just... died. This one had had some strength in him....

Peter leaned down and reached out one pudgy, pale hand to roll him over.

The boy was a mess of blood and bile and mud from the forest floor, tears streaking the only clean paths down his cheeks. He stared up with blind and bloodshot eyes, still half-choking, hands fluttering weakly over the broken amulet on his chest.

Fuck, Peter thought tiredly, and reached for his wand. I hate having to do this.

"Who," the boy croaked out, his voice ruined. Peter went still. "Why?"

Peter swallowed hard as he stared down, not quite into the boy's eyes. He couldn't look at those eyes. He settled instead on the hands, noticing at last the silver ring around one little finger....

"I gave you my news," Peter said. The ring was familiar, damn it. He'd know if he looked closer, and he didn't want to know-- "We're done."

The boy shook again, his voice pleading. "Who -- who are--- y--"

Peter shook his head and shut his eyes. He couldn't take any more of this.

"Avada Kedavra," he whispered, seeing the green blast crackle through the darkness of his eyelids, just like Voldemort's eyes had done through the boy's -- and there was a muffled, muted sound of pain, then silence.

Peter turned away and was violently sick.

He wasn't sure how much time went by before he pulled himself upright, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and cursing the lack of a handkerchief, before he staggered back upright on shaky legs. It was time to take stock of himself. Not dead, thank Merlin. Not injured, except for a few vicious bruises. Nothing wrong with his clothes that a cleaning charm or two couldn't fix. And he had a job to do. A very definite, do-or-die job to do.

Peter nodded once as if to confirm it all to himself, pulled in a breath, and sighed it all out. Very well, he told himself, in a mental voice he wouldn't let himself believe was still shaking. Just clean up your mess, and go.

He reluctantly turned around.

The boy was still there. It would be nice, he always thought, if the Killing Curse would take care of body disposal, but there was always, regrettably, tedious clean-up work afterward. Peter sighed and readied the conflagration charm, while he mentally constructed the parameters that would keep it contained just to the boy's body, and not start a forest fire....

But before he cast it, he found himself bending down, and lifting the boy's pale, lifeless hand. Almost despite himself, he touched the ring, and stared. He didn't want to know. But somehow, he had to anyway.

There was a symbol branded into the ring, untouched by mud or blood or magic, still brightest silver, still pure. Peter twisted the ring off the boy's hand, let go, and stared at it full-on while the boy's arm flopped back down, out of joint.

After tilting it just so, into the light, he saw exactly what he'd feared.

It was the Black family crest.

I enjoy watching people suffer slowly, Peter remembered Voldemort say, while his own gaze slid inexorably from the ring to Regulus Black's body. For that was who it had to be -- Sirius' little brother, the one Peter had hardly known, the one Sirius had shunned by necessity but had always wished would come around, would mend his ways, would turn away from his family as Sirius had so Sirius wouldn't be alone.

Sirius had already suffered over him, but this --

This is where it starts for you, Sirius, Peter thought, while he stared at Regulus' corpse. This is where it starts.

He tucked the ring into his pocket, set the flames, and watched for what felt like hours until they'd burned themselves out. All that was left at the end was ash and cinders, and a tiny glint of something that might have been the clasp of Regulus' amulet -- the only thing that hadn't entirely melted away.

Peter watched it shimmer in the faint light filtering down through the trees, then kicked a clod of dirt over it. And without another look behind him, he turned away.

In his wake, the forest was as silent as the grave. The trees were already withering beneath the soil, the creatures long since fled. No one would ever know what had happened, or even guess, but they'd wonder for years why the forest had gone dead from its very core outwards -- poisoned from the roots, death injected deep within where no one would ever see it at work until it was too late.

And Peter went back into the world with his own news of death, his own calculated drops of poison, and the start of another very, very long game.