Full summary: James Potter has a couple of rules when it comes to his Quidditch team. Rule number one: No dating fellow team members. It distracts, it destroys, it's disrespectful to the team. He calls it his three D's, to our great amusement.

Rule number two: don't be on time for practice, be at least a few minutes early. Punctuality is every Quidditch player's greatest strength. Or so Potter has undoubtedly read somewhere.

And last but not least, rule number three: Quidditch comes first. If Cap tells you not to do something (like when he commands you in his deep manly voice to stop eating chocolate because it slows you down and you have a problem, Larnes), you better do it. No one knows how to make your life hell like James Fleamont Potter. Ask Lily Evans. She'll confirm.

By the end of sixth year, I hadn't only broken these three lousy rules of his, I'd waltzed right over them, spat on them and then lost us the Cup. And I was about to do it all over again.

Some witches never learn.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and every OC of JK Rowling's is exactly that... an original character that I have humbly borrowed. I do not own anything of this work except the added plotlines, characters and the wording of this story. I won't make this disclaimer at the beginning of every chapter.

WHO MISSED ME?

Probably no one. Stop embarrassing yourself, Kelly, jeez.

What's up, my darlings? I'm back with a brand new fic idea because let's face it... There can never be enough Sirius/OC in the world.

This is a first draft, and I'll be uploading a chapter every week. It's supposed to be a lighthearted read with lots of laughs, some drama and one hell of a romance story.

Hope you enjoy this first chapter and, as always, let me know what you think!

Spread love like you would Nutella, my darlings.

Love,

Kelly

1. Home Again

"At least he didn't cut me from the team," I told Marlene McKinnon, my best friend extraordinaire as I stepped away from the board. James Potter, our beloved Quidditch Captain, had only just put up the parchment declaring his team for the year, and despite my lapses in judgement last year I still made it. I decided not to acknowledge that another name, the one I'd been looking for first, hadn't made the cut.

I ignored the stink eye one of my younger housemates gave me when he saw I was still on the team.

"It's not like he has any choice," Marlene shrugged as she grabbed my arm.

"I can't believe she's back. What is he thinking?" I heard the same boy—Rufus McCane?—say to his friend. "Is he trying to lose?"

Marlene steered me away from the nasty gossipers that were looking at me like I just spat in their soups. "You and Potter are the best Chasers this school has seen in years. He'd be mad to kick you off the team," she reassured me gently. "They don't know what happened last year, and therefore they don't get to judge. You tried to bring your a-game, you tried, and you failed. It happens."

I gave her a pointed look as we exited the common room and continued down to the Great Hall. I'd heard this speech of hers before. She'd been giving it to me for two months now, through owl, over the phone and even face-to-face those four times we managed to meet up over the summer holidays.

We started our descent to the Great Hall, which all of a sudden didn't seem that far from our common room. It'd been like this for two weeks. Students I'd been friendly with before looked at me nastily, shouted things down the hall and distances I'd loathed to travel before seemed like peanuts now. It'd been four months since we lost the game, and I'm just now starting to realise it might take me twice as long to win my peers' respect back.

Marlene was silent for a while, but spoke up again two flights of stairs down. "So what if you lost us the Cup last year. Big deal. You'll make up for it this year. You'll have to."

"No pressure, right?" I scoffed.

Marlene put her arm over my shoulder, proving yet again that she was at least two heads taller than me. "You know you'll always be my little, tiny, small and favourite witch in the world, right?"

Could she have put any more adjectives marking me as a hobbit in there?

I shrugged her arm off with a nasty look. "Who are you calling little, you giant?"

We stared at each other ominously, halting in the middle of the staircase, before we grinned at one another and continued our way down without another word on the matter.

James, unlike the other Captains, had made quick work of assembling his Quidditch team this year. We'd been struggling last year and only made a full team somewhere around mid-October. Just before our first match, which we'd nearly lost because we'd only had four days to train our new Beater. Anita's great, but she's not a miracle worker and neither is James. He had seen potential in her back then and he, as per usual, was right. Anita's skills may not rival Sirius', but she was at least twice the Beater her predecessor was. Simon's ability to hit a bludger wasn't worth a knut.

"Jules," Marlene The Giant said cheerfully, because honestly nothing could keep that woman down for long, "you got this. He'll forgive you."

We were just about to enter the Great Hall when someone bumped into me.

"Hey!" I shouted, only to swallow my words when I looked up at an angry Potter. Why am I this tiny? Damn Marlene.

James Potter, messy black hair and often described as a six foot two spectacled menace by one Lily Evans, narrowed his eyes at me and took a deep breath. For a minute I was pretty sure he was going to have a go at me, but Sirius Black, our other Beater, and Peter Pettigrew grabbed his arms and steered him away before the steam could leave my captain's ears.

"Sorry about that," a gentle, but slightly amused voice said from behind us. "He'll come around."

"Remus," I said and genuinely smiled. I'd always liked Remus Lupin. He was a little odd, but the good kind of odd. I hadn't forgotten how he'd helped me with Herbology in third year. Out of James' clique of elite friends, I'd always liked Remus best. "I haven't had the chance to talk to you yet. How was your summer?"

"It was good. Hi Marlene." His eyes, like always, were on my oblivious friend who was eyeing the tables with a ravenous hunger in her eyes. For a smart witch, she was pretty dumb sometimes.

"Oh," she said when I pinched her side. "Hello. How are you doing?" She turned to me before Remus could reply. Poor thing. "How about breakfast, Jules?"

"Yeah, yeah." I grinned, my eyes never leaving Remus. He really should stand up a little straighter if he wants to impress Marlene. Remus always looked like he wanted to crawl into himself and disappear. Even with the scar on the side of his face, I found him a handsome lad. Not as handsome as James or Sirius, but his mug wasn't bad to look at. "I just hope he forgives me soon. I didn't mean to miss that shot or, well, any of them." I had been off my game the whole time, missing one shot after another. I dropped the quaffle four times and seconds before Regulus Black caught the snitch, I'd missed my final shot. By falling off my broom. Like a lovesick idiot.

Remus touched the hand I'd balled into a fist briefly. Kind, intelligent and sweet to boot. Why couldn't Marlene fall for someone like Remus? Then maybe I could live vigorously through her, and we'd eat a lot less chocolate ice cream as a way to cheer her up after another heartbreak. It's a win-win, really. "We know, and somewhere deep down James knows this too. Slytherin just had the better game plan last year. That's going to change though, he's been brooding over new plays all summer. He's become a little… obsessed, I'm afraid."

I grimaced and ignored the impatient tapping of Marlene's left foot. "When you say obsessed you mean…"

"He's been consumed by Quidditch since last June. He's been so preoccupied by the game that he's only written to Lily once this summer."

So… Time to plan my funeral then. I groaned. "He's going to be a monster during practices. Especially to me."

"We're working on him," Remus grinned. He flicked his hair in front of his face, hiding his scar effectively.

The feeling of nausea that hadn't left my stomach since the first day of school two weeks ago, grew ever so slightly. "Who's 'we'?" I asked, vaguely noting that my voice sounded like I was being strangled by an unseen force.

I didn't want Sirius Black working on anything when it came to me. The last time he worked on some kind of plan that involved me, my hair had been this hideous shade of green for the better part of two days. In celebration of Slytherin winning the Cup, or so he'd yelled from the boys' dormitory after hearing my horrified scream.

"Juliet Larnes," Marlene warned softly so only I could hear as she poked me in the side, "food is being eaten and it's not me who's doing the eating. Let's go." I grabbed her finger before she could bruise me any further. She'd somehow managed to kick me off a chair two days ago and my ass hadn't recovered yet.

"Peter and I," Remus admitted. "Sirius is more like Switzerland."

"Right," I drawled. "I'm sure he won't make it worse at all."

"Don't worry," Remus said reassuringly, which didn't reassure me at all. When boys are being unnecessarily sweet and considerate… that's when you run.

"Moony!" the current subject of our conversation hollered from the Gryffindor table.

"Right. I've got to go. Nice chat," he said and winked at me in such an atypical Remus Lupin manner that I stared.

"Did Lupin just wink?"

"Of course you'd notice that and not that he's desperately trying to catch your attention."

"Remus Lupin isn't desperately trying to talk to me," Marlene said as we hurried past the boys before James could throw a rotten egg at my head. "He's just socially awkward and winking at you."

I gave her another one of my infamous pointed looks. I don't carry my heart on my sleeve, it's right there on my face.

Marlene saw and rolled her eyes. We took our seats, and she pointed at me. "Stop it."

I waggled my eyebrows. "You should go for it."

"The only thing I'm going to go for is bacon. Bloody hell." She closed her eyes and enjoyed breathing in the smell of greasy bacon with a weird blissful smile on her face.

I shook my head and grabbed some toast and jam. "Why are we friends again?"

"My weird matches your weird."

True enough, I thought as I halted in the middle of adding the white chocolate spread on top of my jam. My eyes met Marlene's over the breakfast table and we burst out laughing.

All things considered, it was good to be home again.