"Can't I leave?" Lily asked, teeth chattering.

"Aw now, you can't let the cold keep you from Quidditch!" James continued to glance down at the pitch, checking to see if one of the Hufflepuff beaters had been removed off the field. Pompfrey was still barking orders, mostly in French.

"It's been ages now, it's freezing, there's no way the seeker is finding the snitch at this point, either way Hufflepuff is winning, I'm leaving." She turned on her heel for good measure.

"Come on now Evans it's my last year to play this game and you're supposed to be my luck charm and-"

"Obviously I'm broken; probably from cold."

"Fine. You know what helps with the cold?"

And at the very second James began to say "Tea," Lily answered, "Firewhiskey."
"Lily-"

"Oh don't you Lily me, Potter. I'm of age. It's cold. We're not going to win despite my 'Gryffindor colored hair.' I'm going back to my dormitory to get warm and try to forget that terrible bludger hit."

"But you're Head Girl! Think of the morale hit it'll be if you just walk off! It's like saying you don't believe in us! Drink it here."

"James-"

"Oh don't you James me, Evans," he winked, "Drink it here. Put it in a mug. No one needs to know."

"You said it yourself, I'm Head Girl, I can't drink at a Quidditch match, are you mad? I hiccup horribly when I'm drunk," Lily's whispers were particularly hissy and came with spit.

The whistle shrieked, and James began to back away on his broom while shouting "Stay here Evans! Stay here!"

Lily's feet were starting to feel like they were burning, and bouncing up and down wasn't going to cut it anymore. She had only promised Potter that she would come, not that she would stay... Even if his cocky smile was at it's best out on the pitch; it just looked less cocky out there. Damnnit it was cold. It had been a stressful week, full of essays and tests and unruly new Prefects, as the fun of being in charge had began to wear off of them, just as the excitement of being Head Girl had Lily. James had suggested Quidditch as a way to unwind, but the game had just wound her tighter. To many close hits and people looking like they were going to fall of their brooms, and now this one who had. And the crowd was so loud... Before the match she had pictured herself curled in her bed with a cup of hot chocolate and biscotti but now it was going to have to be Firewhiskey near the fire. No, she couldn't drink it in the stands. She shuddered even more to think of the blow back if she were caught.
But her attempts to be friendlier with James were going well, much better than she had expected. Would leaving now hurt her progress? He had to understand how cold it was, zooming around on his broom, cutting through the wind. But also, Lily thought, he had to understand that the Head Girl and the Head Boy should be friendly towards each other- if not friends- and that they should be respectful about the other's toes. Because Lily felt like her toes were engulfed in icy flames.

James, after making a particularly spectacular goal that involved two flips, turned towards the Gryffindor stands just in time to see Lily turn on her heel. The pride in his chest dimmed but he smiled brightly, swinging back towards his team.

Gold and red streamed into the Gryffindor common room, shouting and whooping. "Gryffindor-Gryffindor!" The few stragglers who had stayed in the warmth to study pushed their books aside to join the celebration. The last 5 minutes of the match were recounted again and again, told in shouts and whispers. The captain-chaser-Head Boy had, they said, given the best performance of his Qudditch career. The parties died down and cleared away; empty bottle butterbeers and the dents in the couch cushions were the only evidence that nearly the whole house celebrated.

"Evans! Oh Evans!" James stood at the base of the girls' stairs. Lily stumbled out, wrapped in a blanket. "We won!"

"Oh I heard. Trust me." She wobbled down the stairs, planted herself on the couch. "Sit. So it appears my Gryffindor hair isn't your good luck charm after all."

"Yes it is, haven't you heard? I had my best game of my career, Gryff."

Lily continued to stare into the fire, the started. "Oh Gryff? Did you mean me?" She held her hand to her chest for dramatic effect and swayed. "I left, remember?" Only it was hard to make that out through her giggling.

"No no I worked it out. You've never made it priority to come to matches much, and I've done alright. And while you were at today's game, we were shit. But once you left, things turned around! So it only works when it's warm! Has a specific operating temperature, is all. But it was very mean of you to leave, Gryff." His tone was half mocking and half hurt, and Lily couldn't figure out which one to reply to.

"You still won!" She leaned in closer to James, to make her point.

"Ah, and you, you had your Firewhiskey. So you got warm and what? There were no parties here while Quidditch was going on, I hope!"

"Read."

"You got tipsy to read?"

"No, I got drunk."

"Drunk? You're not drunk, you said when you got drunk you hiccup like mad, and I haven't heard a peep from you."
Lily broke into giggles that made her rock back and forth, and James worried he was going have to hold her in her seat. "Anti Hiccoughing Draught. Figured out how to hide them years ago!"

"Lily Evans you're a bad girl! How many years ago? Oh, the Marauders won't believe it when I tell them, you have to tell me everything. Our own Head Girl!"

"You're Head Boy!Of all people! And I'm a good girl!"

"Evans, alcohol really ruins your ability to banter. 'I'm a good girl' that's the best you've got?"

Lily leaned in again, this time aiming her lips towards James' ear, "And I danced!"

"You what?"

"I danced. When I was drunk. I practiced in my room."

"You're still drunk. So let's see what you practiced. Come on, up on the table."

"I'm not dancing on a table, that's trashy!"

"You're say you're a good girl, but I know you would girl," James began to croon, clearly making things up as he went along, he was following no particular tune, "Come on Gryff, I'll sing for you just get on the ta-ble," his voice climbed into falsetto. "The Head Girl is going to dance for me on a table in the empty common room!"

Lily, urged by the falsetto perhaps, climbed on to the small table in front of the couch but then clutched her stomach. "I feel," and she didn't need to say how she felt because her eyes bulged out and she made like she was going to throw up.

"Oh no you don't Evans," James popped up and swept her off the table. "This probably wasn't the smartest thing to do if you're going to throw up. So don't."

He placed her down in the corner of the couch. "Stay." James pulled his wand out of his pocket and summoned the nearest rubbish bin. "Here."
He handed it to Lily and she promptly threw up into it.
"Alright," the bin was taken out of her hands and placed aside. He wrapped her blanket around her shoulders. "You know what else happens when you drink to much Firewhiskey? You get the chills. We need to get something else in out the Firewhiskey. I'll be back. Don't you runaway on me this time." His arms were still holding the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and his face was level with his. Her stomach leaped again.

He returned with a cup of tea. "I know you take milk, but I didn't know about sugar, so I managed to get a few cubes." He held out his hand, revealing several slightly crumbled sugar cubes.

"Uh, just two thanks."

"Just two?! That's not a just that's a shit ton of sugar!"

"It's only two-"

"One makes it too sweet!"

"Hm. Well whatever you say."

James dropped the sugar into the mug and passed it to Lily.

"Look, James, I'm really sorry about earlier, I should have stayed-"

James's voice came out a little too light, "No Lily, you really shouldn't, you heard my new theory."

"No, I should be. I promised you that I would come, and I mean, I did, but it wasn't kind of me to not stay. You shouldn't be being this kind to me right now. We decided that we were going to be friendlier and it's been really nice. And friends don't just leave each other's Quidditch matches when their friend specifically asked them to come. And I mean that friend did offer a reasonable solution for staying warm while staying at the match and... Well, I'm very sorry James. I'll come to your next one, if you'll have me."

"Well I guess we're not friends then,"

Lily practically jumped in the air. "No no no I apologized and I mean it I really do and things were-"

James broke out into laughter. "There. That wasn't very kind of me, and now we're even."

Lily reached out to punch his stomach, but instead pulled him down to the couch beside her. "And friends?"

"What?"

"And we're friends?"

"Yes of course we are we have been, what are you on about Evans?"

She swallowed her tea slowly. "Oh I didn't know that, we never said..."

"We needed to say before we could be friends?"

"Well no, we didn't, I just wondered. If we were, is all. I don't know. I wonder with most people, and then we've just had a bit of a pas-."

"Don't get all twisted up, I understand. It's nice to know we're on the same page."

"Oh, okay. Well, thank you."

"You're welcome, Gryff."

Lily scooted closer to James and laid her head on his shoulder. "I don't know quite how I feel about that name."

"You should be honored, it's derived from the founder of our hallowed house!"

"Shush. My head is pounding now, we'll battle it out tomorrow."

Lily closed her eyes and shuffled until she was more comfortable. James found that his own eyes were getting heavier and heavier, but the walk to his room seemed too far to make, so he gave in. The pair of them feel asleep to the sounds of the dying fire, both their hearts a little lighter and perhaps a little more fluttery.