Stupid Snitch

By Matelia-legwll

Disclaimer: No, definitely not Jo Rowling still. However, I was heavily inspired by her writings, particularly in book five. There are two OC's mentioned however, and only Justin Turner is mine. The other belongs to my friend, Umi, who has been kind enough to share her.

Setting: Sometime during the latter half of the Marauder's fifth year. I like to think it was only a week or two before Snape's memory of the DADA OWL. But definitely before the Ravenclaw/Gryffindor Quidditch match.

Rating: K+ just to be safe.

Genre: Romance/Humor. James/Lily

My heart is pounding still. I can't believe I just did that. She is going to kill us. All of us. Not even Wormtail will be spared. Well, actually he might be first since he's the one that pulled the trigger. I wonder which one of us she chased after. Oh no. Who's calling my name? Who found my secret hideout?

I poked the top part of my head out of the cupboard to better hear a glorious voice calling to me, "Potter! Potter! Where are you hiding?"

The whisper in relief escaped my lips, "Phew, not Cenis." I stepped out and waved, then called to my favourite redhead, "Hey Evans!" I grinned as I realized she came to find me this time around. However, I don't remember doing anything to make her stalk over. I dismissed that thought as she drew close enough to where I was to not yell if she so chose. That's a good sign.

"What did you think you were doing?" She sounded exasperated as she gestured to the Quidditch field and stands around us.

"What, now? Hiding in the Quidditch supplies," I answered smartly. Hey, that reminds me… "Here, come in before she sees you." And me… and completely destroys us both. I motioned for her to come inside and took a few steps back to allow her in.

"Who else was looking for you?" she asked curiously as she stepped inside. Well, I certainly can't tell her the answer to that one.

"Never mind that," I straightened up after closing the door, pleased that she'd followed my advice thus far. "What did you want to see me for?"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "It's not going to work this time, Potter."

I wish I knew what she was talking about. Oh well. I'll act like I do. "When has it ever?" I leaned back against the box of Quaffles and crossed my arms. "Go on, let me have it."

I braced myself for the explosion but it didn't come the way I thought it would. "Did you realize Madam Pomfrey is going to murder you and Justin?" Evans asked eagerly. Merlin, she confuses me sometimes.

"No. Where'd you hear that?" I cautiously asked.

She stated her authority proudly, "Straight from the nurse herself."

I paused and considered the situation. "Did she specify our names?" I inquired, I admit, more out of curiosity than anything else. I was actually trying to figure out where Evans is going with this. Anyone who's familiar with Madam Pomfrey knows that she's only serious when she's giving you directions on how to be healed. She doesn't mean any of the rest of her ranting.

Evans reply caught me off guard. "No, but I told her you were the one responsible for Justin's condition."

My eyes widened. "Why'd you tell her that?"

Thankfully Padfoot wasn't around to hear that question. He'd tease me for sure. But truly, that was information Madam P doesn't require. She doesn't even ask anyone now that the Marauder's reputation has spread. Of course, Padfoot's a little irritated with the false blame, so we try to avoid solidifying the rumors with factual evidence.

"Because you are!" Evans retorted. "And Madam P swore that she'd murder the next person that came in with a Quidditch spirit injury and the person that caused the damage."

Deep breath. Don't laugh. Even if Evans did use the same exact nickname for Madam Pomfrey. Hmm. Next person. "So… you mean to stop this from happening again?" If so, she should be talking to Justin Turner, not me. Although I'm not complaining. But Turner started that one. He just wasn't good enough to finish it.

Then, Evans rolled her eyes. "She threatened to start with you."

How strange. Evans is actually concerned about me. "You're warning me, then," I concluded. "Thanks." I couldn't help being impressed and grateful.

"No!" She stamped her foot. What the newt? A delayed explosion. "I realize that it's nearly impossible for you to connect an action with a consequence. Unfortunately, you're a Marauder." What's that supposed to mean? "You're not concerned with your own life or consequences at all. But at least show a concern for others' lives. You don't have to be blind as well as stupid, Potter," she spat angrily.

That's really what she thinks? I'll show her blind and stupid. She really needs to stop getting her adjectives from Snivellus. I'll humor her though. To make sure she was done enough to pay closer attention, I let her words hang in the silence for a moment longer before starting my rejoinder.

"Admittedly, I'm not as concerned for Turner as you are," I said sharply. But honestly, he's in the Hospital Wing. He's fine. "But how many times have you been in the Hospital Wing, Evans?" I asked, turning the tables.

Interesting how fast her face goes from spitfire mad to confused. "What do you mean by that?"

Okay, I could rephrase my question a bit. "How many times have you been there because of your own injury?" I knew the answer to this one and she better not lie.

"Er…once, maybe." Good, she's still a bit confused as to my point.

"Your sprained ankle, right?" I stated more than asked.

"How'd you remember that?" She sounded so surprised. There went her accusation of 'blind' out the window.

"Anyway, just to let you know, regulars never get hurt without Madam Pomfrey spouting death threats if it happens again. She never follows through on them." And that disproves the 'stupid' accusation. Amazing how short a time it took me to disprove those falsehoods. Evans even recognizes it.

"But how can you be sure she won't this time? You didn't hear her." She is such a worrier.

"No, but I can sure picture it." Does she realize how endearing she is? I can't stay mad at her. "Honestly, Evans, I'm a lot more worried about you following through on death threats than Pomfrey's ravings."

Evans pouted for a moment at my accurate statements before saying, "Fine. Be stubborn. But don't tell me in the afterlife that I didn't let you know."

In silence I let that slide off my back. Now that the facetious conversation was over I was sure Evans would march back out; I wasn't in a mood to want to say the last word. But she didn't. She stayed. And that made me curious. "You feel guilty for telling on me, don't you?" I guessed.

"Hardly," she scoffed. Her eyes were staring at something behind me.

I slowly came a little closer, trying to subtly catch her attention as I made my point. "But you came all the way out to the Quidditch field, inside the supplies cupboard with me, to tell me of Pomfrey's threats."

She still wouldn't look at me. Her eyes were flying from side to side as she asked defensively, "So?"

I finally asked her outright. "Evans, why are you still here?" My curiosity and determination to get an answer were surely evident.

But she was not pleased with my question and said in a huff, "Oh. You want me to leave. Alright." Which was the complete opposite of what I wanted and she knew it.

"No… Wait…" She spun around and started for the door. "Listen to me," I pleaded, my frustration rising. "Lily!"

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Oh cripes.

I had crossed a line and we both knew it.

She spun and by the look on her face, I was in for it. Why did I allow her to fight with me when I left my wand in Padfoot's pocket?

She slowly advanced towards me, carefully and slowly enunciating each word, "Don't call me so intimately."

I stood my ground, knowing I deserved whatever she was about to do.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, startled. She punched me! Well, she missed, but she had still tried to Muggle duel. What the newt did she think she was doing?

Wait, what is she holding?

A ball, golden, about the size of a—

"And here's your stupid snitch," she added, tossing it in my general direction. This time she didn't miss. That's going to leave a mark on my shoulder.

Thankfully I was able to catch it as it bounced off me. I looked at it in wonder. "How'd you catch—" I stopped my stupid question. Of course she had caught it when I had thought she had tried to punch me. I caught a glimpse of some intricacies carved into the snitch and examined it more carefully, turning it. "This isn't a practice snitch," I announced, amazed. "This is the one for the game." The Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw game will need a new snitch, apparently. How did it escape?

"And that matters why?" she demanded.

There are just too many responses to that. I can tell by the look on her face that she couldn't care less about the Snitch's loyalty to its first catch, though. She didn't even care that she was the first one to touch this snitch after it was made. I turned it over in my hand. "Never mind," I muttered, pocketing it.

I still can't believe the intensity of that catch. "Do you realize how brilliant of a Seeker you'd be?" I asked her, marveling.

"You'll never get me off the ground, Potter," was her flippant reply.

Admittedly, yes. I had thought for half a moment that I'd be able to recruit her in time for the game. Then I remembered who I was talking to. But she was proclaiming her inability to fly at all? Well, that was false.

"I've seen you fly before."

Wait. Hopefully she thinks I'm talking about first year, not last week when I spotted her from the Forbidden Forest. Evans rolled her eyes. Definitely first year.

"Not in front of a crowd," she pointedly persisted. So she has stage fright? That's easily fixed.

"Well, no. But the crowd doesn't matter," I eagerly assured her.

She tilted her head and asked with a sly, disbelieving tone, "Doesn't it?"

Suddenly, memories of times when I had needed Evans to be in the crowd flooded my mind, along with my antics to get her there. I didn't know how to clarify my statement so that she would believe me. Because, for me, the only crowd I needed was Evans, Padfoot, and Wormtail. The rest was just icing on the cake. But others who don't like crowds watching them have been able to block them out entirely. "You're a tricky one, Evans," I muttered finally, leaning back against the case of brooms to be more comfortable for a while. Unfortunately, Evans took this opportunity to edge back towards the door, and she left with a final triumphant tease, "Don't hide too long, Potter."

She left me alone with my thoughts still debating. Why did she come find me? Who was she truly concerned about?

I put my hand in my pocket, fingering the snitch. Once it's caught it could be opened. I wonder how?

Probably ought to go grab my wand.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

Coming soon: Lily's perspective. ^_^

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