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Author: Zia Montrose Story: Precipice Rating: Everyone Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Completed Reviews: 4 Words: 25,223
Physically, the climbing felt easy enough: all the features seemed bigger and easier to hold on to than they appeared from a distance; the rock felt pleasantly cool against his skin; and the slightly daredevil nature of the mission made James feel indescribably alive and free. Decidedly, this made up for missing a good flying session today. He'd lost sight of Sirius and Lily and he briefly wondered what they were conversing about in his absence. He reached out a toe for the next small foothold and scanned the rock below him. Ten feet away diagonally, a mass of errant feathers fluttered in the breeze, glued to a small ledge. Suspicion piqued, he began moving towards them. Finally, his feet reached the ledge. It was roomy and supportive enough to take some weight off his arms, but no sooner had he stepped onto it than a chorus of high-pitched screeches broke out from somewhere within the rock. Aha! Result! He arched at the ribs to get a better look and discovered a fissure of rock which opened at his toe. Edging further down, he reached eye level with the opening and peered inside: Atop a homespun pillow of dried golden grasses sat three very silly looking chicks, resembling miniature Puffskeins with beaks, shrieking furiously for their missing mother. "All that noise out of you three?" James grinned. The chicks stared back at him, shrieking. They conspicuously lacked adult feathers; instead, juvenile downy ones stuck out on all sides as though they'd been electrified by a fabulous bolt of lightning from Thor's Hammer. Braving the racket, James reached in to coax one out. "Easy now…" They flapped their wings and skittered backwards into the farthest recess of the crevice. "Yes, I see. You don't want to come out. Got your own little London Underground down here." Closer… He stretched his thin fingers toward the nearest one... "OUCH!" He jerked his hand back and flexed his thumb: a smear of blood appeared above the second joint, flanked by ragged, white epidermis. James assessed it. A bit jagged. Trivial compared to most of Moony's injuries, really. And not unlike many of the ones he got on the pitch… "Are you all right?" Lily called down. He glanced up to see her peering over the edge; Sirius's head appeared next to hers. James nodded wordlessly before turning his attention back to the nest. The chicks had mysteriously suspended their racket and were now staring back at him with chatoyant yellow eyes. "Blimey, you look so innocent." The leftmost began chirping again, setting off the other two. C'mon, Potter... James stared back into the small cave and pondered the situation. Maybe I should just levitate them? But wouldn't that scare the living daylights out of them? And they seemed scared enough already. He suddenly called to mind the thick suede gloves he'd seen falconers wear. But even if I could conjure one, how would I climb back up with my hand mitted? What I really need is—Merlin's pants!—one of those sleek leather jackets out of the pages of Sirius's motorbike magazines. If only clothing weren't one of the exceptions to Gamp's Law... Hmmm, it's probably for the best. Padfoot would definitely find it amusing, but Lily might not. She already seems to think I have an enormous talent for showing off... After giving it a moment's further thought, he slipped his wand from the waistband of his trunks and conjured a small scrap of suede with which to reach in and grab the little blighters. With this, he reached back into the fissure and worked a hand around one of the fledglings, managing to pin its wings down in the process. Its glassy eyes bulged in alarm. "SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEP! SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEP! SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEP!" "Easy now. Don't panic." Precariously balanced, he looped up the bottom of his shirt and tucked the chick into the fold, closing his arm to trap it; its talons grappled for purchase, piercing through the cotton. Blimey… He quickly procured the remaining two chicks, tucked them into the cradle of his arm along with their sibling, and discarded the mitt in the little nest cavity, where it would shortly vanish. The task of climbing back up proved decidedly more difficult when using only three of four limbs. Only the fingertips of his left hand remained free to balance on small edges while he kept his elbow locked against his side. Strangely enough, the little brood had quieted down: Were they simply too frightened to move? Or were they enjoying the fresh air? And the free ride? Ten feet from the top, Sirius's head popped over the edge. "See, I told you James would be quick—" James heard him mutter as he disappeared and then reappeared with Lily alongside him. Suddenly, one of the chicks managed to poke its head out from between his chest and arm, free one wing, and unleash a mad series of flaps in an attempt to escape. "Cack!" protested James, lurching backwards to avoid a small battering in the face. He pinned his arm in. Feathers atomized in the air, drifting and swirling until, miraculously, the chick settled back down of its own accord. James glanced at it warily and noticed the brown spot marking its beak: it was the same chick who'd earlier given him the nasty peck. Quickly, he edged up the last few feet. "Nice work, James," said Sirius, hastening forward to help. He plopped prone on the grass and braced a hand under James's right elbow to steady him. Lily dropped to her knees on his other side. James tilted the cradle of his arm upwards to put the birds within their reach. "Watch their talons and beaks," he warned. "They're sharp." Lily gently scooped up a chick. Sirius prized a second one. Lily took the third, her fingertips grazing the skin of his tanned arm. Finally, James grasped the lip with both hands again. "Better take this," he said, slicing his wand through the air and conjuring another small bit of leather, then tossing it to Lily who caught it and used it to pad her bare arm. "Though it's only temporary." "What about me?" Sirius objected. "Conjure your own, pillock," James retorted, pressing himself back up over the edge and clapping his hands and shorts free of dust. "They all right?" he inquired, seeing both Lily and Sirius's heads bent over the new arrivals. Sirius nodded absently. James glanced over his mate's shoulder at the fuzzy little ball he was cradling with surprising care against his chest. "More trouble than Loki, that one," James said, noticing the spotted beak. "Loki?" questioned Lily. "Old wizarding myth," replied Sirius absently, his face too intent on the downy chick he was stroking to explain. Lily wore an expression of equal enthrall as she caressed the other two, her fingers leaving little furrows in their down. "Loki was Odin's trouble-mongering half-brother," explained James. "He liked to turn into a falcon when he'd just pulled some punishable trick and needed to hide—though he had other disguises too." "No wonder you two know so much about him!" She smiled without looking up. "Pretty cute little devils," Sirius remarked, still stroking the most mischievous triplet, while James looked on, amused. "Poor things," Lily cooed, her almond eyes narrowing in sympathy, "They're orphans!" "—And we're their new mothers?" Sirius raised his brows in mock alarm. "I'm not sure that's a good thing," quipped a wry voice from upslope. Lily glanced up. As soon as she caught sight of Remus, she broke into a smile; it doubled when she noticed her friends trailing along behind him. The girls instantly gathered around Lily, cooing and eager to pet the fuzzy little birds and chatting amongst themselves. James vaguely caught a few words like 'so cute' and 'how?'—and did Lily just politely call him 'James'?—before Bonnie shot a glance in his direction. "You climbed down there, Potter?" she asked, her amber eyes wide. Florence spun to look too. "I climbed down there, McDermott," he replied jocularly. It didn't seem like that big of a deal, but she and Florence went to peer over the edge, holding onto the hem of each other's shirts as they took turns leaning over. "Where's Peter?" James asked, glancing up toward the castle. "He's on his way," answered Remus, who had stopped next to Sirius to stroke the chick. "Pomfrey's a little behind this morning. She's having a hard time locating a bottle of Murtlap. Thinks one of the deliveries might have gone astray. She's right furious about it. Puttering around muttering something about the mail being unreliable these days..." "She could always substitute an unction, couldn't she?" bandied Lily. The image of Pomfrey bustling around the hospital wing descended easily upon James. He'd spent enough time, as both patient and visitor, to know the nurse well. "A lost package?" James mused. "Mm, that'd send her into a swivet." It happened occasionally, even though the post owls were usually so reliable—that's what made them the bird of choice for the post. Well, that and their ready availability as a species. They never broke any air speed records, but— A sudden though struck James. "Imagine if we trained them to deliver our post!" Sirius stilled in comprehension before letting out a bark of laughter at the sky. "Ha! Imagine McGonagall's face!" "Imagine that swooping over the milk jug," Florence cut in sourly. "Yes, exaaaactly," replied James, his enthusiasm growing. "They're smaller than an Eagle Owl—" protested Sirius logically. "—Or a Great Horned Owl," added James. Lily, who had been silently stroking a chick, wore the upturnings of a smile. "I hate to rain on your parade, Potter, but McGonagall already hands out a list of approved creatures students can bring to Hogwarts. It was in our Acceptance Letters, remember?" "You are raining on my parade, Evans," James quipped. "I was thinking that you lot could use them, too, you know. There are three of them." "We could at least use them over the holidays," Remus suggested. "Over the holidays, Moony? Tosh, that's no fun!" Sirius protested. "Oh, my sister would looove that—" Lily rolled her eyes. "Especially if she had friends over," Bonnie grinned. "And you walked around with it on your shoulder," added Florence, wearing a would-be-innocent smile and standing up tall like a pageant entrant. "And wore my witch's hat," added Lily, eyes twinkling. "What's with your sister?" James asked tentatively. He'd once seen her waiting on the train platform, wearing an expression of purest sour grapes. She didn't appear to be enjoying the magical world at all, which he found rather shocking. "She's… um… averse to magic," Lily answered. "I gathered as much," replied James while in the background Sirius asked an abrupt, "Why?" "You gathered as much?" asked Lily curiously, ignoring Sirius's 'why?' "Saw her on the platform once." While I was watching you. Perhaps the only thing he'd observed about Lily's sister that day to recommend her was the unmistakable way she'd recoiled as Snape had brushed past her on his way toward the exit, as though he'd had some rare disease. He smiled involuntarily at the memory of it. "Once would tell you all you need to know," Lily replied. "My parents have to make her come to King's Cross now." She paused as though undecided whether to go on. "And she gets really out of sorts when I receive owl post at home." Lily frowned. "Thinks it'll make us look like freaks around the neighbourhood to have owls circling the house." "All the more reason to acquire a falcon," Sirius declared. Lily's lips twitched. "Black—" "Fortunately, you only have a cat, so she doesn't need to get all stroppy about it very often," James pointed out. "But I have to agree with Sirius." "Do you ever not?" Lily cheeked, tilting her head. Remus cut in. "We'd better get to Hagrid's with these, doncha think?" Bonnie turned to investigate the chick Sirius held. "Yeah, they may be cute and fuzzy and all, but that doesn't mean they want us manhandling them all day." "Spoken like a true farm girl." Sirius nodded sagely. "Don't make fun of me!" Bonnie rounded on him with a flash in her eyes. Sirius threw his free hand up defensively and backed a step away. "I'm not! Think I wouldn't have rather grown up around McDermott's Magical Farm than Grimmauld Place?" He rarely spoke of it outright, James knew, but by now it was common knowledge around Hogwarts that Sirius had run away from home, that he lived with James. A few of the more loathsome Slytherins liked to spin it quite differently, as if Sirius had been a disgrace to his family, had been outcast, a rumour which they didn't dare utter in his presence. Bonnie cooled at Sirius's excusal. "Look, we're forgetting one thing," said James. "We haven't done anything with the mother bird yet." "Why don't you and I come back for it after we drop these chicks off at Hagrid's?" suggested Sirius. "Seems disrespectful to leave it lying there much longer," Lily interjected. "True." Sirius picked up the crate off the ground with his free arm. "Why don't you two just go get it? You know where it is already," he said nonchalantly and held the crate out to James with a steady gaze. James caught the cool regard of Florence watching them and wondered if it had been obvious. He slipped the crate from Sirius's outstretched hand and directed a query of renewed partnership at Lily. He'd only half-raised a brow when she nodded and handed the chick she was holding over to Bonnie. And without further exchange of words, she and James set off together, the crate swinging loosely at his side. Only a few yards passed in silence this time. "Was it hard to find them?" Lily asked, as they withdrew from their friends. He glanced over. "The chicks? Nah, not really." He'd noticed during that glance that she was about six inches shorter than him in height, their strides were in unison, and the ends of her glossy hair shifted across her shoulders with each step, the sun glinting off it like a prism. "They didn't exactly trust me once I'd found them though—thought I was highly suss," he relayed with a grin. Lily smirked. "Smart birds." A pause elapsed. "Was it scary climbing down?" she asked evenly. He shook his head. "Nah, not really. You'd've done it." "Maybe if I had to," Lily laughed. James felt warmed by the compliment, though he didn't show it outside of a modest smile. "The hardest part was getting them out of their little hidey hole." He automatically glanced down at his pecked hand, where the blood had clotted into the start of a messy scab. They lapsed into silence as they rounded the final bend, a few of last year's dry leaves crunching underfoot as though picking up where the conversation had left off. "Well, here we are—" Lily indicated the familiar clump of sedges and slowed her step. James spotted the bird quite easily this time. Stepping to the middle of the patch, he knelt down in front of it and placed the crate on the ground by its side. Lily crouched down opposite him. "Let's fold its wings back, shall we?" she suggested, and, reaching out, she smoothed them against its salt and pepper body. Next, she trailed a finger down its beak to wipe it free of dust and the coat of dirt gave way to glossy onyx. "There, that looks a little better…" James agreed; Lily's adjustments rendered the falcon regal and dignified again. Ensconcing it with his hands, he gently lifted it up off the ground. Lily scooted the crate underneath before he'd managed to request it. "Thanks," he said, setting it down inside. Lily flicked her wand into the air. A sky blue ribbon of fabric furled from the tip and a silk scarf fluttered the ground. "Good choice," he murmured. "Better suited to the occasion than a beach towel," Lily agreed, snatching it up and tucking it gently around the feathery body with her deft and light touch. "We can ask Hagrid for something permanent later." When she'd finished swaddling it, they both rose. James tucked the crate under his arm and glanced at Lily to synchronize their walk back up the hill. Lily didn't budge. "Let's see your hand," she said, reaching out her own. He glanced down at her outstretched palm and his stomach gave a warm lurch. He blinked, but she didn't elaborate. "It's nothing, really," he stammered. "It's not nothing. Let me see it." Slowly, he switched the crate under his left arm and complied, producing his wounded hand. His pulse throbbed. Lily tucked her hair behind her ears before taking it and, using both of hers, rotated it so that the beak cut faced upwards. It was impossible not to feel the way her fingers brushed, soft and light, against his own. He was absorbed in these thoughts when she glanced up, flashed a funny little half-smirk, and quipped, "Don't think I'm doing this to hold your hand, Potter." Hmmm… She can't possibly expect me not to respond to that sort of cheek, can she? A grin slid onto his face. "You don't have to deny it, Evans." Lily's lips twitched as she continued to examine his hand. Stilling it, her eyes pored over the wound. "Just don't transfigure me into a Billywig, please." "Oh, I could think of better things to turn you into than that," she muttered with a devilish glint in her eye as she set her own hand like a perch of support under his and twisted yet a few inches closer on the dry leaves to decrease the working distance. Lastly, she slipped her wand out of her pocket. His pulse raced at her proximity and the softness of her touch. She poised the tip of her wand above the wound and said, "Think of something pleasant and hold still." Something pleasant… Like your hand holding mine? He fought back a cascade of deeply unhelpful thoughts along with the impish smirk to go with them and, after attempting to focus on the swaying treetops, he closed his eyes. A moment later a sensation of warmth suffused his palm like this morning's sunbeams through his window pane. Lily's fingers moving across his skin prompted him to open his eyes again: She busily inspected the result. Through her probing fingers, he caught a glimpse of unbroken skin where there had once been a wound. Unblemished peach. No more red. "Mmm, there's one on my palm too," he murmured hopefully, turning his hand over to be helpful. He braced for contention, but none came. She merely glanced up to check his expression before turning her attention to examining the new wound. Head bent, she arched his fingers back to get a better look. "How'd you do that one?" "Fanged Frisbee. Bonnie's a bad throw." "You do seem to have a certain flair for—Hold still again, please..." James watched her expression this time. Disks of sunlight filtering through the trees dappled her face and hair and she wore a look of calm concentration, eyebrows narrowed ever so slightly as she tipped her wand point to his skin. A second wave of warmth spread through his palm… Nonverbal, James noted. He'd been too preoccupied by her touch to register it the first time. "There," she pronounced, flexing his fingers back one last time and assessing before she released his hand. James examined her work: The blood was completely gone. And there was no scar. "Wow...You're as good as Pomfrey..." And better than my mum, I think. Even the creases of his skin ran continuously. Not as much could be said for the elbow he'd skinned when he'd crashed his broom in the field behind the house at age seven—he bore scars. Lily smiled faintly at the compliment. "You weren't nervous about letting me practice on you?" James shook his head blithely. "I had confidence in you." A subtle blush crept into Lily's cheeks. "Thanks..." A peal of Bonnie's laughter drifted down the hill. "I think we'd better get back," she said, glancing up toward the castle. James tightened his hold on the crate tucked under his arm. "After you." They broke into step. When they rejoined their fellow Gryffindors, they discovered that the abandoned quartet had become a quintet with the arrival of Peter. The conversation, however, still revolved around the subject of McDermott's Magical Farm. "So is the farm still giving tours?" asked Remus, lounging on the grass, propped up by his palms. "Not to the four of you!" Bonnie protested laughingly. "The cows would stop giving milk!" "Nah, we'd behave," said Sirius, who was leaning back on his elbows, a blade of grass sticking out the side of his mouth. James was glad to see he'd fully recovered from his earlier moment of brooding and a lively conversation in full swing. Upon sight of James, Sirius nodded tacitly toward Hagrid's hut, and, after he and Remus had brushed themselves off, the seven of them began walking across the grounds. Lily wended back in amongst her friends. "Besides, we wouldn't want to jeopardize the ice cream business," Sirius added, casting a deferential look in Florence's direction. "Yes, my dad would be grateful for that," Florence replied, flicking a sheet of blond hair over her shoulder. "So do you all get unlimited ice creams then, when you visit Diagon Alley?" asked James from the back of the mobile group, wistfully picturing scoops of Conjured Caramel, Fizzing Whizbee, Hovering Hazelnut, and the many other decadent flavours arranged in round tubs behind the counter. "So do we—every time we visit the kitchens," Sirius interjected in an undertone. James grinned. The debate over the best flavour of Fortescue's Ice Cream brought them all the way to Hagrid's doorstop. The fledglings had been passed around more frequently now that everyone had become familiar with their screeching and scratching, even after following James's advice and conjuring various forms of protection. RAT-A-TAT-TAT. Remus reached up and knocked on the door while the flavour debate died down.
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