It was a decent day for Quidditch match. A thin layer of snow coated the Pitch below, but the sun was still shining brilliantly enough for only a few flurries to prevail under its heat.
The commentator's voice rang throughout the stadium as the moves of each team played out, "And Gryffindor scores, which puts them 40 to 20 to Slytherin!"
Naturally, the mass of maroon and gold cloaks exploded with excitement and applause. But in contrast, across the field the blur of emerald and silver crossly expressed their disappointment.
"Now, Potter smoothly rounds the posts, it looks like he caught sight of the sni!—er—Evans?"
Instead of turning around, or frantically looping to dive after the Snitch, like everyone had anticipated, James Potter had come to a slick stop and hovered in front of the Gryffindor bleachers. All the students in the Pitch screamed out to him, inquiring him what the holdup was. But Sirius and the rest of his boys simply whistled as Lily Evans had made her way down the benchers to the stand's platform. She leaned over the ledge of the safety railing towards James, her cheeks heating up, and it wasn't from the midday chill.
"Haha! Potter gets a nice, dreamy kiss from the lovely Evans. No wonder he made the game wait!"
Laughing ensued and humorous cheers sounded out from around the entire stadium flared about.
Though, within the rows of Slytherins sat an irritable Severus, who slouched and pouted after hearing that last comment. "They should make the captain do something 'bout Potter." he muttered his complaint.
A classmate of his to the left looked his way and sniggered mockingly, "Have you forgotten, Snape? Bloody Potter is the captain."
The classmate laughed more openly this time as he noticed Snape trying his best to restrain a jealous moan.
