The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix Part Three

Late Night Talking

James stood staring out the bedroom window onto the moon-lit street beyond the stone wall that lined the front of their cottage, the slightest shimmer of the line of the protective charms glinting a pale lavender. Roger was on the bed behind him, pawing at the pillows on James's side.

The door opened and Lily came in quiet from the hallway. She stood by the dresser and took off her jewelry, laying it out on a silver tray she'd placed on top just to hold her most precious things during the night, including her wedding and engagement rings and her mother's earrings which she'd taken to wearing lately. She thought of them as a sort of good luck charm... a funny superstition that she couldn't quite explain. 

"James," she said gently.

He turned slowly, as though tearing his gaze from some fascinating outside, though there wasn't anything - he'd just been lost in thought. 

Lily was wearing his old number jumper from quidditch and nothing else, the hem of it coming down only just barely enough to cover her upper thighs. She pulled her braid over her shoulder and stared at him nervously. He held out his arm and she crossed the room and tucked herself into his chest as his arm bent around her, and kissed the top of her head. He turned so they were both facing the window.

As though they'd been having a long discussion, despite having not said anything at all since they'd tucked Bradley Scamander in, James suddenly said, "You can do it on one condition."

Lily looked up so fast, she was likely to have gotten whiplash.

He stayed staring out the window.

"What's the condition?" she asked.

"I'll tell you when."

"You'll tell me when?"

"Yes," he said. "I don't want you to do it today, not right now, but I promise that I will let you do it. Just not right now. I'll tell you when."

Lily hesitated. "But James -"

"It isn't much to ask, Evans," he whispered.

Lily nodded, and let it go. She held onto him, hugging his chest and closing her eyes, breathing in his smell. She hesitated, then said, quietly, "I took a test. We're not pregnant yet."

He looked down and her eyes opened and met his. He sighed.

Lily's voice was very soft. "Do you think.." she paused. "Do you think there's something w-wrong with one of us?" she asked, then added, "With me?"

James held her tight. "There's nothing wrong with you Evans."

"Then why --"

"These things take time, love," he whispered.

Lily sniffed and pressed her face into his chest. 

"Evans."

 She shook her head.

"Listen. It just takes time, okay?" he whispered, and he kissed her forehead. Though inside himself, he was wondering if it wasn't him that might have something wrong. Wasn't that the way it usually went with these things?

Just another thing he was taking up and putting on his shoulders, he realized.

But he didn't want it to rest on hers.

He held her close.

In East London, Sirius Black lay in bed, exhausted his heart racing, Remus curled into him, his face laying against Sirius's chest, listening to the heart beat he'd made so accelerated. The curls at Remus's forehead were soaked with sweat and Sirius ran his hand over Remus's spine, across the puckered silver lines of scars, and over the bumps of vertebrae. Remus's eyes were closed as he tried to catch his breath, even as his body rose and fell with Sirius's breathing.