FALLING WITH GRACE
by shiiki

CHAPTER FOUR

Gearing for Battle

April to May, 1978

The Avada Kedavra Shield Charm – or Death Shield, as Liz Ollivander often called it – was proving to be a lot trickier than Lily could have imagined.

Firstly, Avada Kedavra drew strength from so many horrible emotions that even if they found a way to block all the conventional ones (hatred, vengeance, disgust), which they hadn't, there were other elements that could be drawn on to make the killing curse still work. Liz theorised that the shield had to encompass a counter for every element that the killing curse could possibly use. Lily thought the answer should be more direct, and less complicated, but it was a hunch with no logical or theoretical backing. Anyway, she had no idea exactly what that direct answer was.

Today, Lily was taking a break from Avada Kedavra to study the existing Shield Charm instead, hoping that it might provide a clue to the Death Shield they were trying to create. If she could manipulate the existing Shield Charm, it would be much easier than building a spell from scratch. Its principles were quite basic: it acted like a mirror, reflecting most spells and curses thrown at it. This accounted for the silvery nature of the spell web. However, there had to be a reason why the killing curse was the one curse that the Shield Charm could not block.

Or was it?

Lily felt that the logical reason why the Shield Charm worked against most spells and curses was because all of them were elemental spells – that is, they required focused magic, rather than human emotion. It was a worthwhile theory to test.

'Liz?'

'Yeah?' Liz raised her head from the dictionary that she was currently buried in. They had already determined that since the killing curse was an emotional spell, the Death Shield would therefore have to be one as well, if it was to work successfully. It was finding which emotion that was difficult. So Liz had started a list of all the emotions she had thought of so far that might possibly be used to cast Avada Kedavra, and next to each one, she tried to find an opposing emotion that could be used in conjuring the Death Shield. It involved a great deal of the dictionary.

'Can I test something? Put up a Shield Charm, will you?'

'The Charm itself? Or the web?'

'The Charm itself. I'm going to cast a spell to try to get past it.'

'All right. I hope it's not a curse, though. Protego!'

'Expecto Patronum!' said Lily loudly. The Patronus was the perfect charm for her experiment: it satisfied to requirement of being an emotional charm, and being a manifestation of joy, even if it breached Liz's Shield Charm, it wouldn't hurt her.

The silver tigress bounded out of Lily's wand and capered right through Liz's Shield Charm. It frisked a few times around Liz before dissolving.

'Well,' said Liz, lowering her wand. 'I don't think that's been tried before. As far as I know, no Dementor ever cast a Shield Charm against a Patronus.'

Lily felt the glimmers of excitement surface within her.

'It worked – I was right! Liz, the Shield Charm doesn't work because it doesn't have the right elements in it. But if we can put the right ones in …'

Liz was quick to catch on. In the blink of an eye, she had raised the shimmering silver barrier that was behind the chant 'Protego'. Lily prodded it thoughtfully with her wand.

'We need to infuse the wall with a human element – or a whole bunch of them,' she muttered. She studied the smooth planes of the wall. It was a stark contrast to some of the other spells that she had done, where the webs criss-crossed to form a strong, sturdy pattern. It made sense, since the charm was meant to reflect unwanted spells – and an interlocked light path could not reflect.

'But how?' said Liz, frowning. 'The paths are built up too tightly. We need something woven with a bit of space if we want to add anything.'

Lily rubbed her forehead, not willing to give up. There had to be a way. They just hadn't found it yet.

Three hours and not much significant progress later, they were interrupted by James's head in the fire.

'Liz? Is Lily there?'

'I'm here, James.' Lily scrambled to the hearth, feeling the panic rise automatically. 'Is anything wrong? Are you OK?'

'No, no – don't worry, everything's fine; I just dropped by your place and you weren't back yet, and it's late, and I had to … aren't you finished, yet?'

'Blimey,' exclaimed Liz. 'It's past midnight, Lily!'

She hadn't noticed the time either; that single breakthrough in her thoughts had caused her to be completely engrossed in her work until now. James shook his head in a mock-despairing manner.

'And here I thought you were done with late-night work after Hogwarts.'

'Oh, shut it.'

'We'd better call it a night, though,' suggested Liz. 'Get some rest; we'll continue tomorrow evening.'

'All right.'

'OK if I come by, then?' said James. He met Lily's eyes, and she could tell by his expression that he had a pressing matter to discuss with her.

'OK,' she said, and James nodded. There was a soft crackle, and his head disappeared from the fire.

Ten minutes later, having packed up her work and said good night to Liz, she met James just outside the Ollivander home. He greeted her with a soft kiss and they Apparated to a deserted little alleyway in Manchester, a short distance from the flat Lily was renting. He took her hand as they started off towards her flat, walking in the cool spring night air. For a while, neither spoke. James was so uncharacteristically quiet that Lily could sense that whatever it was he needed to tell her, it wasn't going to be easy for him.

Finally, he said, 'I have to leave.'

'Leave?'

'On … business.' Lily understood that to be Order work. 'To … well, I'm not sure exactly where; Moody wouldn't say yet. But I'm going to be away.'

He'd be leaving the country – she could imagine too well the purpose: tracking Death Eaters, thwarting Voldemort's forces … meeting danger … risking his life … A lump worked its way up her throat at the very thought. Don't go, she wanted to say – but she couldn't, because she knew better than anyone that this was a war none of them could opt out of. And if their situations were reversed … If given the chance, she would have gone to do her part as well.

I'll go, too, she thought next, but this was an impossibility: the Order needed her where she was, continuing the work she had just put down barely half an hour ago. James's role was to leave, to fight; hers was to stay, to create.

Lily watched their shadows lengthen and recede as they walked between the Muggle street lamps lining the pavement. Their shadowy outlines grew and faded for three cycles before she managed to choke out, 'When?'

James's voice was so soft, she thought she'd imagined it. 'Tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?' she repeated in dismay, hoping she'd heard wrong.

'Morning,' he clarified. 'That's why I – I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you first.'

'But that's so soon … why didn't you tell me earlier, James?'

'I didn't know myself; Moody only told Sirius and me earlier today.'

'You should have …' Lily let her voice trail off, as she realised that James had probably tried to tell her as soon as he could … and even if he had, it wouldn't have made much difference. There would still be precious little time for them to spend together before he left. Barely a night.

They arrived at her dingy flat, and Lily suddenly clung to James's hand, not wanting to let go. If they had only tonight left before he had to go, then she didn't want him to leave her now. If he was going tomorrow morning, she wanted something to hold on to while he was away; a memory she could take comfort in when she missed him.

'Stay the night?' she breathed into his ear.

'OK,' he said, closing his fingers tightly around hers.

---

James awoke to the dawn's first rays, peeking through the gaps in Lily's blinds to cast lines of warm sunlight across his bleary eyes. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, fumbling around for his glasses.

His searching arm brushed over Lily, curled up against him, fast asleep. James withdrew his hand and propped himself up, watching her breathe lightly in slumber. Her vivid hair, lit by the morning's rays such that it shone red-gold, was wild and tangled. James smoothed several locks away from her face, memorising her features as he gazed at her.

He would have to go soon; he had no idea how long he'd be away – 'As long as we need to complete our mission,' Moody had said. That could be any time from a week to a month … or longer. However long it took, he would bring with him the image of Lily sleeping peacefully by his side, and the memory of her soft lips and skin, pressed against him.

As though by instinct, he leaned forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. Lily stirred at the contact, eyes scrunching up slightly before blinking open.

'James?' she murmured.

'I didn't mean to wake you.'

She yawned and extracted a hand from under the blankets to cover her open mouth. 'Are you leaving?'

He nodded regretfully. 'I have to.'

'You … you'll come back.' She said it as a statement, but with a hint of a question – that twinge of uncertainty, of fear, because he was about to walk into danger, and no-one could promise that they'd return from an Order mission unscathed.

'I'll do my best,' he promised, which was the most he could do. Lily accepted this, and raised her lips to his.

'Stay safe,' he said, when they broke apart, realising as the words left his mouth that there was no guarantee that he'd have a girlfriend to return to either. In fact, either of them could run into trouble at any time, whether or not he was going away. But when he wasn't within Apparating distance, he'd be helpless, should anything happen to Lily, and vice versa.

'You should go,' Lily said, after she'd promised to take care. James nodded, knowing that she was right. The more he delayed leaving, the harder it would be. As it was, he already wanted not to move from his position at her side.

'Go,' she urged again, although her fingers, clinging to his hand tightly, belied her words. James lifted her hand to his lips.

'I love you. I'll see you when I get back.'

The words, if I get back, hung in the silence between them.

I will come home, thought James viciously.

'And I'll be waiting for you.' Lily smiled at him. 'I love you, too. I'll miss you. Now, go, before Moody has your head!'

Reluctantly, James got out of bed and pulled his robes, which were strewn across the ground, over his head. With a final, mouthed 'good-bye', he took a step forward and Disapparated quietly.

James didn't stay long at home; these days, Potter Manor felt far too huge and empty when he was alone. He simply packed the few things he thought he'd need: his Invisibility Cloak, his side of the two-way mirror (the other resided with Sirius), a travelling cloak. When he'd squeezed it into a knapsack, he declined the breakfast that his house-elf offered, forced himself to stop thinking about Lily, and Apparated to Sirius's place.

A mixture of excitement and nervousness not unlike pre-Quidditch match nerves washed over him as he arrived in Sirius's hallway. James focused his mind on the mission ahead – they'd be tracking Death Eater movement outside the country, trying their best to foil Voldemort's latest foreign plans. James suspected that this was going to involve giants somehow, although Moody hadn't briefed them on the specifics yet. This was the kind of adventure he would typically be eager for. In fact, if he hadn't Lily to come back to, he would probably be whole-heartedly ready to run off to fight, without a care. There was nothing else for him to miss; home was lonely now, with his parents gone and his home filled with the ghostly memories of a happier past and his carefree childhood. He certainly wouldn't bemoan having to be away from home.

Neither would Sirius, James supposed. If there was anyone with a keener sense of adventure, it would be Sirius. And unlike James, Sirius hadn't a girlfriend – he wouldn't be at all fussed about danger or the risk of getting killed.

It was strange, therefore, how Sirius wasn't already bounding around the house, up and ready to go. 'Sirius?' James called out, but there was no answer. 'Are you here?' He waited a few moments more, knocking on Sirius's bedroom door in case his best friend was still asleep, but no response followed, so James showed himself out the front door. It locked automatically as he closed it, securing the house against unauthorised intruders.

He was making his way back down the front path, deciding that Sirius must already have left, when he noted the unusual noises that seemed to be originating from a small shed round the side of the house. Thinking he'd probably just pinpointed Sirius's location, he turned around and headed for the shed, with his hand on his wand – just in case.

From what James could see through the smudged glass of the shed window, the noise turned out to be from some machine that Sirius was tinkering with, bending over it such that James couldn't be sure what it actually was. Curious, he opened the door, which creaked and startled Sirius.

'Godric's Grindylows, James, didn't you ever hear of knocking?'

'You obviously haven't been heeding Moody's advice of "constant vigilance", since you haven't hexed me for it,' observed James.

'Wise-arse.'

'What are you up to?' But the answer to his question was evident as he set eyes on the Muggle machine that Sirius had been working on.

It was an enormous motorcycle: its polished black-and-silver handlebars gleamed in the dim light of the shed, meeting in the centre above the gigantic front wheel to proudly brandish two spotlight-style lamps fixed side by side; the body was smooth and black, curving gently into a wide, comfortable seat; beneath the seat was the rear wheel, half-obscured by two shiny exhaust pipes leading to the convoluted engine residing on the underbelly of the machine. The whole contraption balanced almost precariously on its two wheels and a single slim stand that James marvelled for its ability to support the motorbike's hefty weight.

'Amazing, isn't she?' said Sirius, grinning broadly.

'Where did you get this thing?'

'I was luckier than a Niffler in a gold mine. She'd brought the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts department down on her – old Perkins was trying to sort it out. Some idiot put a Hurling Hex on her – Muggles wouldn't go within ten feet, they all thought she was haunted after five riders got thrown – four of them landed in hospital, apparently, and the last one died. Anyway, I helped take off the Hurling Hex, so Perkins let me have her since he hadn't any idea what to do with her; couldn't wheel a lovely lady like this into the Ministry, after all! He said Arthur Weasley usually takes care of this stuff, but Weasley wasn't at work at the moment because his wife had a crisis – Gideon and Fabian's sister, you know? She's pregnant now, it seems – their sixth, can you imagine? Either way, it works out for me!'

Sirius ran his hands lovingly over the motorbike as he spoke, stroking the leathery seat fondly. James chuckled inwardly for a brief moment, thinking that all the girls who had been eyeing Sirius during their school days would have been desperately jealous of this Muggle bike, if they were to see him now.

'I've been tinkering about with her whenever I had time,' he said happily. 'Took the engine apart and fiddled around … it works like a charm now. It started with some electric transmission in the ignition – blimey, you should have seen the sparks when I took that out – but I managed to get her to go using Alohomora – no Muggle bike-thief's ever going to get his hands on her.

'She runs a whole lot better with magic too – nought to a hundred and twenty in less than ten seconds; not even the Nimbus can beat that! An Equalising Charm got rid of the sputtering at slow cruising speeds – she goes so smooth at any speed now. And she already had a good ground clearance with the low, lean angles. Would you believe you can actually apply those tone and pitch spells for tuning magical instruments to a bike? But seriously, they did wonders – with a "Sonorous", too, you should hear the new, improved engine growl. And then, she had an analogue tachometer already, so I didn't have to go browse about in some Muggle shop to buy one.'

James barely understood a word of this; he hadn't continued with Muggle Studies after taking the O.W.L., and even if he had, he doubted that detailed vehicle terminology was in the syllabus. That Sirius could rattle it all off was remarkable – but then, Sirius would have done serious research if he'd been truly interested in Muggle vehicles (which he evidently was).

'… a lot of the charms they use on brooms apply too, like the Cushioning Charm: makes the seat much easier on the bum – not that it was that bad in the first place – and I stripped down a Bluebottle for Suspension Enchantments – there won't be any shocks she can't resist now, I'll bet!' Sirius finished with a broad grin and a gleam in his eye. 'I'd say she's ready for the journey!'

'You're bringing her – it?' James said incredulously.

'Why not?' Sirius Summoned a small rucksack and a thick Muggle jacket from the corner of the room. He shrugged on the jacket and hitched the sack onto his back. 'You all packed?'

'Yeah …'

'Let's go, then.' Sirius fiddled with a cap near the back of the bike, and then wheeled it out of the shed. James realised with a thrill of anticipation – the same old excitement he'd used to feel in school at the idea of a new, adventurous caper – that Sirius intended them to ride the motorbike to meet Moody.

Sure enough, Sirius motioned to the bike grandly. 'Get on behind.' He swung his leg across and indicated that James do the same. With a swift, practiced kick to the stand and a sweep of his wand, the motorbike revved into action.

The roaring of the engine was almost deafening. The motorbike accelerated down the path, heading straight towards the Muggle village not too far away. It covered the distance as quick as a Snidget. Once there, Sirius's driving became more erratic as he swerved through the paved streets: he made a sharp left turn, and then veered to the right almost immediately after, heading down an alleyway. James sucked in a breath as they swung sharply – but that was nothing compared to what Sirius was now doing: charging full speed at a brick wall at the end of the alley … Adrenaline was pumping in James's veins; it was almost like a Quidditch match, dodging and twisting at top speed, heading straight for obstructions only to veer off at the last minute (which he had no doubt would happen – he trusted Sirius not to smash them both into smithereens). Damn, it had been too long since he'd last had a good heart-racing flight on his Nimbus …

As he'd expected, Sirius did dodge the wall – but how he did it was most unanticipated. With a great jerk, the front wheel pulled right off the road and lifted into the air; instead of returning to the ground with a thump, it climbed higher – and the back wheel followed. James nearly fell off in shock – the motorcycle was in the air, sailing through the clouds, the wind whipping past. He couldn't help but let out a gasp of surprised delight. Sirius heard and craned his head back, laughing.

'Oh, sorry,' he said wickedly. 'Did I forget to mention that it flies?'

A/N: Much thanks to my friend Yantz, who briefly introduced me to motorcycles, pointed me to valuable resources that helped me in the description of Sirius's motorbike, and vetted the initial motorbike description! For anyone who is interested, I gave Sirius a Triumph Rocket III (