This is a response to a prompt given to me by owanalilypotter -- the original idea was "James, Lily, Sirius and rollerblading. Need I say more?" Nope. I've got it from there. ^_^ Anyways, this is what came from it -- enjoy, and please review, because I love em!
Rollerblading, Ultimate Fighting, and Why Remus is the Favorite Squirrel
"No way in hell."
"Lily, come on," Sirius says, brandishing a pair of roller blades in my direction. "It's fun. You're a Muggle, you know you love this."
"No, hon," I say, taking a step back and putting a hand on my belly. "You know me. Coordination and I aren't exactly best friends."
James looks up from where he's lacing up his blades and winks from behind his glasses. It figures he'd twist that into something dirty in his one-track mind.
Sirius sighs. "We haven't done anything in ages together, tiger," he says, taking my hand. James smirks from behind him. "Please? For Gwyn?"
"Gwyn doesn't like roller blades," I say right off the bat, covering my huge stomach with my arms. No way is Sirius contaminating my unborn baby with crazy waves from his fat head. "And neither do I. I have a scar from the last time, you know." I brandish my nose at him. He's royally unimpressed.
James goes around behind me and wraps his arms around my waist so his hands are resting on my distorted middle. He kisses my neck and says, very softly, "Please, baby? For me?"
It's sad how easy it is to manipulate me when I'm hormonal.
Twenty minutes later I'm sitting on a park bench with my two (beloved) idiots, and they've discovered that pregnancy does things to feet.
"Your feet used to be a size five, right?" Sirius asks, regarding my pedicure. I nod.
"What the hell?" James says, looking up at the sky.
"No, darling, hell's underneath you," I say, pointing to the ground.
"Got that right," Sirius mumbles, looking down at my foot. "What happened to 'em, Lil?"
"Pregnancy, mate. Blame your buddy the stag over there. It's his fault."
"You either get to take responsibility for swollen feet and the swollen breasts, or neither."
There's a moment of silence, then James says, "That's just downright unfair, that is."
I roll my eyes and attempt to stand up -- except, you know, my feet are acting like they're drunk on wheels. I grab Sirius for balance -- he winces.
"Anytime," he says, rubbing his upper arm. I smile apologetically.
"Come on, you two, we've only got a few hours of light left," James says happily, waving his wand in a strangely erratic way that manages to fix my laces nonetheless. I whip out my own wand, mutter a spell I'm quite familiar with, and then, when they look at me weird, say,
"What? Anti-Fall Charm."
"Taking no chances with little Gwyn, huh?" Sirius says.
"Not with my little girl." I shoot James a look. He says hastily, "Erm… I mean our little girl."
"Did you just say we'll be doing this for a couple of hours?"
God, I didn't think my voice still went that high. Good to know when I'm yelling at our daughter in a few years. But even with the extra decibles, they ignore me. Sirius hooks his arm through mine, James taking the other side, and before I can so much as lurch about a bit, we're off, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
I laugh and pull them down next to me on the ground. It's very cool and soft, and feels nice against my bare legs. I wiggle my nose. James laughs and gives me a kiss.
Sirius mimes a very graphic vomit session.
The sun is setting, so we pretend to watch it while really we're watching a trio of squirrels attack each other a few yards away. It's like watching Ultimate Fighter: Rats with Bushy Tails Edition. One of them squeals, launches itself away from the other with a second close behind, and manages to find refuge in Sirius's hair.
Sirius shrieks higher than even I can and rolls over backwards, tearing at his hair, the pair of squirrels still lodged on top. I can feel tears streaming down my face from laughing. One tumbles down his back, through his baggy pant-leg and eventually down to the ground; the other bites Sirius square on the nose, chitters (it sounds like a laugh) and hurls itself the six feet down to the ground from Padfoot's cheekbone. The third squirrel is sitting on his hind legs, watching the other two as if it made perfect sense to attack something fifty times one's own size while still managing to look reproachful.
All these years I thought I was friends with a stag and a dog and a werewolf. Nope. Just a set of stupid, stupid (albeit adorable) squirrels.
By the time the very first glimmers of stars start coming out we're lying flat on our backs, and the sun only has a few little rays peeking over the edge of the horizon. It must be late, I guess – oh wow, only eight– sun must've set early tonight. Sirius yawns.
"One more run?" he asks, stretching and standing up.
I nod and fight to pull myself up without crushing my baby girl. Ouch. My feet hurt.
James takes my hand. The three of us, together, make our way up to the top of the highest hill in the park. After taking a look around (and using a little spell of his own invention to detect Muggles) Sirius casts a quick cushioning charm at the bottom of the hill, and then we're off, flying and laughing and clutching each other's hands and just so free that I could scream –
And then it's over, and we're lying almost in midair, the charm taking effect as we flip sideways and straight into it. I think I might've peed from laughing so hard.
…Oh my God. That's not pee.
Oh. My. God.
My water broke.
Three hours later Sirius and Remus strut into the room, eyes wide and jittery on caffeine and nerves. James is sitting on the edge of my bed, rubbing my thigh and grinning like an idiot.
Remus is the first over to me, peering into my arms with that soft smile I love. I push back the blanket covering my beautiful baby boy's face.
Immediately Sirius and Remus sigh happily. James and Harry really do look alike, I think. Sure, my sweet little boy has my eyes and all, but he looks almost exactly like the baby photos James's mom terrorized him with on our first date. Remus runs one finger across his cheek. "What's his name, Lily?"
"Harry," I say proudly. "Harry James Potter."
We're still cooing over his tiny face and gorgeous eyes and have I mentioned how small his darling fingers are when a nurse comes bustling in. "Hello, Mrs. Potter," she says briskly, checking my charts. "Seems all's good, no complications, a perfectly healthy little boy."
James's chest swells with pride. I can feel my cheeks hurting from smiling so much.
"The only orders I have from Dr. Kelso are to remove your roller blades as soon as possible."
In one motion Sirius, James and I look down at our feet. Huh. You'd think that I'd've noticed painful shoes with wheels.
"Poor kid didn't even get through an ordinary birth," Sirius snorts, pulling off one blade.
"He's Lily and James's kid," Remus says, smiling. "He never had a chance to be anything other than extraordinary."
I've decided Remus is my favorite out of the squirrels.