Author's Note: I've been working on this one-shot for a while, so I'm anxious to post it and see what you all think! It's fairly long as far as one-shots go, but I couldn't bring myself to cut out too much. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

We Were Two Kids
by sweaterweather21

Their love of Quidditch brought them together. Now it threatens to tear them apart. James is pulling away from his best friend and the rest of his team, but Roxanne Weasley is pretty difficult to get rid of.

"We were two kids, just tryin' to get out, live on the dark side, of the American Dream. We would dance all night, play our music loud, when we grew up, nothing was what it seemed."

Without You – Lana del Rey

For the Lana del Rey Lyric Prompt Challenge
Word Count = 5,673

Roxanne loved her family dearly, but they weren't the reason she looked forward so eagerly to Sunday night dinners at the Burrow.

She worshipped her Grandma Molly's cooking and didn't mind chatting with her crazy assortment of relatives for a bit. Out of habit, though, Roxanne was always counting the minutes in her head until she could make a polite excuse to go outside.

Despite the fact that she was the first one to arrive at the make-shift Quidditch pitch, she didn't remain alone for long. James arrived just as she was making a loop around the wooden hoops that Granddad had set up for them.

Roxanne dove sharply toward him until she was only hovering about five feet in the air. She executed a perfect Sloth Grip roll, then made another half loop and released her hands, landing solidly for two feet. James took a step back; it was a little too close for his taste.

"Show off," he grumbled, but the corners of his lips moved upwards.

"You would too, if you were as good as me," Roxanne replied with a smirk.

James frowned indignantly, which made Roxanne giggle. It was so easy to wind him up.

"Well then, how come you can never complete a reverse pass?"

Roxanne paused for a second before shrugging and waving her beater's bat around as nonchalantly as she could. "Why would you spend time trying to find cool ways to throw a Quaffle when you can swing this?"

"We all can't be as violent as you, Roxy," James said with a straight face.

"I am not violent!" she exclaimed, "hitting Bludgers around is therapeutic, actually."

"Bullshit. You're a brute."

"Am not! And I'm gonna tell Aunt Ginny that you were swore!"

"Whatever," James tried to play the remark off coolly, although Roxanne could tell that her threat hadn't missed the mark. "Can we just play Cat and Mouse now?"

"Sure," Roxanne said happily. Even though Grandma Molly had banned regulation Bludgers for the grandkids that weren't of age to attend Hogwarts yet, Cat and Mouse was still James and Roxanne's favorite game. Roxanne would hit her reduced strength Bludger at James and he would avoid it until one of the two got too tired to continue.

"You're on," James said.

"Eat my Bludger," Roxanne replied. James retaliated with a fake snarl that was supposed to look menacing, but Roxanne laughed it off. She unchained the Bludger from the box and hit it straight at him, starting the game.

They played for close to thirty minute until they both collapsed on the grass, panting. James had gotten hit several times and had a particularly nasty bruise on his shin to show for it, and Roxanne would probably struggle to lift her arm the next day. Nevertheless, they were perfectly content to lay side-by-side in the grass, staring up at the sky.

James broke the silence first.

"You know, for all of the smack I talk, you're not half bad. I reckon you'll make the Quidditch team at Hogwarts pretty quickly."

Roxanne smiled. She was surprised by James's remark. It was rare that he gave her an actual compliment, so she decided to return the favor.

"You're pretty good on your broom, too. Have you ever thought about playing after Hogwarts?"

James hesitated for a moment before responding. "Yeah, I think I'd like to. I mean, it's pretty far away, but it would be unbelievable."

Roxanne shifted onto her side so that she was facing him. "Me, too. I can't imagine anything better than getting paid to play Quidditch."

"What if our teams played each other?" James said with a smile that eventually transformed into a smirk. "My team would crush yours."

Roxanne punched him in the side of the arm, not seriously, but not lightly either. "Not if I have anything to do about it."

Roxanne made the Gryffindor Quidditch team first, during her second year. She and James had both tried out, but there weren't any available chaser positions, which meant he was on the reserve team.

She would never forget the dejected look on his face when the roster was posted and his name wasn't on it. Her natural reaction would've been to tease him about it, but she decided to hold off. Instead, she tried to cheer him up with the promise of smuggling in some new products from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

James wouldn't have any of it. He sat silently in the corner of the common room for a full hour until he stalked out through the portrait hole, broomstick in hand.

Roxanne had sensed that he didn't want to talk about it, and they had never brought it up since. Privately, James took some consolation in the fact that the Gryffindor Quidditch team posted a losing record that year.

Even though everyone knew he was a shoe-in for a position the next year, James still had something to prove, mostly to himself. Roxanne was a self-confessed Quidditch fanatic, but James was a man on a mission.

He maintained his usual façade to everyone else. As far as they could tell, he was the same carefree guy, popular and charming as always. He dated a few girls casually, and broke a few hearts in the process. He played elaborate pranks with his best friend Kaeden and managed to keep his grades up at the same time. Despite everything else going on in his life, Roxanne could tell that Quidditch was always on his mind.

Quidditch was his number one priority; he lived and breathed it. James began waking up an hour before breakfast every day to run around the lake and do individual drills, and was still ready to go when it was time for their regularly scheduled practice. He got distracted occasionally by a difficult essay or a pretty girl, but Quidditch was constant.

James's efforts hardly went unnoticed. As his Quidditch prowess grew and grew, so did the number of his fans at Hogwarts. As his cousin, Roxanne hated to admit it – but James was a good-looking guy, and the combination of his skill, charm, and appearance worked like Amortentia on some of the female students. He became the youngest Chaser ever at Hogwarts to score 100 points in a single game, a feat he accomplished against Slytherin, no less, during his fourth year. Roxanne was insanely proud of him. She worried, however, that all the attention would go to his head, especially after his fan club swarmed the pitch afterwards.

Despite her worries, James's head remained its normal size. He didn't shirk away from the attention, but his practice habits didn't change. If anything, they became more intense. The morning after he set the record against Slytherin, he got up early to go running, just like usual. He wasn't even deterred by the fair amount of butterbeer he had consumed at the after party the previous night.

Roxanne met him at the bottom of the steps with the intention of telling him not to kill himself by working so hard, but somehow she ended up running laps alongside him. Eventually, she made it a habit to join in, and even suggested playing Cat and Mouse again, which he readily agreed to. His energy and passion were for the sport were contagious, it seemed.

Competitiveness ran thickly through Roxanne's blood. She hated losing more than anything, and expected to be upset with herself when she heard that James had earned the position of Quidditch captain during the summer before sixth year. However, when James told her the news, she actually smiled, surprising the both of them.

James deserved it. Hell, if he could motivate her to get up at an ungodly hour of the morning just to squeeze in some extra practice, she couldn't wait until he whipped the rest of the Gryffindor team into shape.

Naturally, James didn't disappoint. He was busier than ever – Ginny had convinced him to take several difficult NEWT-level classes and he always had a girlfriend to worry about (or not worry about, for the most part) – but he threw himself into captainship whole-heartedly. Minnie Longbottom, his fellow chaser, complained loudly that he was worse than a drill sergeant. James chuckled a bit, and then made her run an extra lap. Early morning practices were now required for all team members, and their evening practices were no less intense. Despite the vigor and the frequency of practices, the team had to admit that James made a good captain. He pushed them to their limits, and it showed.

Their first game of the year was against Slytherin, a very respectable team. James warned them ahead of time that their chasers, a formidable group that included his younger sister, Lily, had pretty much perfected their Hawkshead Attacking Formation and that their keeper was solid as well. Nevertheless, the Gryffindors won by a comfortable margin. James made sure to congratulate his team, but warned that the grueling practice schedule would continue as usual. Sebastian Wood groaned loudly, but James shut him up quickly with the threat of twenty stadium laps. Gryffindor would win the Quidditch Cup again this year, and James would be damned if he let anyone stop him.

James wore his resolve like a suit of armor. It was almost impenetrable, but someone was bound to find a chink one day.

It was a particularly chilly day in January when Roxanne found him sitting next to the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room. He was staring into the flames, a stormy expression marring his features.

James's mood swings weren't exactly rare. Roxanne had once heard her Aunt Ginny griping that he was usually moodier than Lily, and she had PMS as an excuse. Through experience, Roxanne had learned that the best way to snap James out of his funk was to distract him with something else.

Figuring it was girl problems, Roxanne approached him and tried his favorite conversation topic – Quidditch. "I heard Ellis Dunphy talking shit about you in the Charms corridor today. He said your moves are getting predictable."

"Bloody Ellis Dunphy can talk all the shit he wants. I don't give a fuck."

This didn't seem like his typical post-breakup funk. If he even had one, James usually snapped out of it within the hour. Roxanne had a feeling he had been here for a while, and his snarly attitude was uncharacteristically extreme.

"Merlin, James. I was only kidding. Ellis Dunphy couldn't trash talk if his life depended on it. He's too dumb to come up his own insults."

James only grunted and turned away. That was when Roxanne noticed the bundle of letters in his hand.

"Are you and Madison Corner writing love notes to each other?" Roxanne tried again.

"Shut up, Roxanne. Madison's history, anyways."

It suddenly dawned on her. "Bloody hell, James, those are letters from Quidditch teams! How many do you even have?" She didn't mention that she had received a couple of letters as well, but nowhere nearly as many as James was currently clutching.

"None of your fucking business." And with that, James stood up abruptly and threw the letters into the fire.

Roxanne's jaw dropped in shock. "You didn't mean to do that!" she finally managed, and rummaged in her pocket for her wand to try and salvage them.

Brusquely, James swatted her arm away. "Leave them. And leave me alone, while you're at it." Before Roxanne could get another word in, he stomped off toward his dorm, slamming the door behind him.

What just happened?

Roxanne sat alone in the common room for a few moments, unable to process the scene that had just unfurled. Tryout letters from professional Quidditch teams were nothing to get upset about. Quite the opposite, in fact; he should've been ecstatic. This was all they had ever dreamed of!

With more questions than answers at this point, she reluctantly head back to her own dormitory, resolving to get to the bottom of it the next day.

Unfortunately for Roxanne and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, James's bad mood lasted well into the next day. He was irritable and downright ornery at practice. Little Liz Callaghan, a third year, was practically crying after he chewed her out for asking a simple question about strategy.

Roxanne exchanged glances with Minnie, who was leading Liz by the shoulders to the changing room. Something had to be done.

"All right, I think we can call practice for today in light of the circumstances," Roxanne announced as cheerfully as she could muster. Gratefully, the rest of the team followed Minnie and Liz away from the pitch.

James looked like he was going to say something back, but instead he waited until he and Roxanne were alone.

He glared at her pointedly. "You had no right to end practice, Roxanne. Like it or not, I'm the captain."

"Well, you made Liz cry and everyone else was ready to commit mutiny. I figured I should step in before it got ugly."

James was snarling now. "That doesn't change anything, Roxanne. I'll run my practices how I see fit. You're just pissed that I made Quidditch captain before you!"

It was a low blow, and it stung. The more childish side of Roxanne was tempted to ask him who had made the team first, but she chose the higher ground instead. "That's not true and you know it, James. I've been nothing but supportive of you so far. Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you instead of taking it out on poor Liz?"

"Fuck off, Roxanne."

She sighed in disappointment, unable to muster any actual anger in return. She had been close to James for a long time now, and it would take more than that to push her away.

"Whatever. Find me when you're ready to talk instead of acting like a brat." With that, she marched off the field, leaving James alone to get his head on straight.

Despite her hopes, James still hadn't worked through whatever he was going through. He had stopped terrorizing the team at practices, but what replaced his nasty attitude was even worse.

For the first time in his life, James was apathetic. He started showing up to practice late, and often with what Roxanne recognized as a Firewhiskey-induced hangover. Practices were dull, and started to end early as James simply didn't have anything planned. Roxanne tried to be encouraging to everyone else, but she simply didn't have James's talent of motivating people.

She tried to talk to him on numerous occasions. He downright refused.

Things were deteriorating quickly, although she hung on to a glimmer of hope that their upcoming match against Hufflepuff would snap him out of it.

She was wrong.

James was nowhere to be found at breakfast in the morning, and he still hadn't made an appearance in the locker room thirty minutes before the game was scheduled to start.

Roxanne paced back and forth. "This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself, "he's not stupid enough to take this whole team down with him."

The other team members sat on the bench, looking worried. Emilio Morales, a fifth year chaser, was the first to speak up. "Uhh, Roxanne?" he questioned.

"What?" she said flatly, so it came out as more of a statement than a question.

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but we don't even have a reserve chaser today. Casey was puking up something green last night and he's still in the Hospital Wing."

"Shit."

Emilio could do nothing but nod in agreement. A tense silence enveloped the locker room – they were all screwed and they knew it. This year's team had talent, but not enough to make up for playing a man down, especially if it was their star chaser and captain who was missing.

The door creaked open, revealing a disheveled-looking James.

"You made it." Roxanne was less than thrilled.

He only grunted in response, and settled onto the bench next to Minnie

"For Merlin's sake, James! Hurry up and get your bloody uniform on so we can warm up."

James rubbed his eyes, still looking half-asleep.

"If you're not out in two minutes, I'll swear I'll pluck a random first year from the crowd to take your place! Let's go!" Roxanne shouted as a warning, and motioned for the rest of the team to follow her to the pitch.

After the match, Roxanne regretted not choosing the most athletic-looking first year to play in James's place. From the get-go, the match had been awful. Using the nicest word possible, James had been uninspired. Half of the passes he had thrown had been intercepted, and the other half had been thrown off-target, disrupting the attack. Emilio and Minnie had done their best to make up for their captain's dismal performance, but it just didn't cut it. Liz was rattled by seeing James play that way, and she missed the snitch. The Gryffindors lost 210-80, and there was booing as they exited the stadium.

Roxanne intended to give James a piece of her mind immediately after the game, but he was nowhere to be found. She dismissed the rest of the team from the locker-room without a huddle, and returned to her dorm alone.

Attempting to distract herself from the awful loss, she began to write an essay for Potions. After scribbling out several expletives that accidentally slipped into her commentary about the side of effect of healing potions, though, she figured it was time to confront James.

She slammed her book shut and marched down from girls' dormitory, through the common room, and up the steps to the boys'. She didn't bother to knock, barging right in.

"What the fuck was that, James?"

"T-t-there's no 'I' in team," he slurred. He was sitting at his desk with a bottle of Ogden's in his left hand, tipping back in his chair so far she thought he might fall over.

"What is that even supposed to mean?" Roxanne retorted. She was angry, and rightfully so. She wanted answers.

"It means," he said slowly, "that you can't blame the whole damn game on me."

"Are you mad? Of course I can. You didn't even bother to show up!"

"Hey, hey, hey," he started, and then added a few more for emphasis. "Hey, hey, I made it there in time."

Roxanne rolled her eyes. "Physically, you were there. But mentally – I honestly have no clue. And I'm getting sick of this."

James took another swig from the bottle before Roxanne angrily jerked it away. "Relax, Roxy. It's just a game. There'll be plenty more."

"Are you bloody out of your mind? You said it yourself – this was the year we were gonna win the Cup. Since you obviously weren't present during the game, I'll lay it out for you. We just lost to fucking Hufflepuff. Good luck trying to win the Cup now, captain." She gave him a mock-salute in disgust.

James planted all four of the chair legs on the ground, but looked away. "It doesn't even matter anymore," he mumbled.

"What?"

"I don't know," he responded darkly, still not meeting her gaze.

Roxanne had lost it by now. She wasn't known for having the fiery temper typical of most Weasleys, but she realized now that it was just because she hadn't found her breaking point yet.

She marched angrily towards James, grabbed his chin, and jerked it upwards, forcing him to look at her.

"You don't know? Fine, I'll tell you what I know. Merlin help us, you better listen to me, James Potter. I don't know what's going on with you lately. I've tried to talk to you about it, but you keep pushing me away. That's fine – I don't care."

She paused for emphasis before continuing. "What I do care about is you treating this team like it means nothing to you. I know you better than that. Damn it, I tried so hard to be angry when you got captain over me, but I couldn't, and you know why?"

She wasn't really expecting an answer, and James didn't give her one.

"You're good, James. You know I hate saying it, but you're really fucking good. Nobody loves Quidditch more than you, and nobody else could push us in practice the way you do. You had our respect, and you're throwing it all away because you don't care anymore."

Silence enveloped the room as Roxanne glared at him expectantly. His breath hitched in his throat, and the words tumbled out.

"I'm quitting."

It took Roxanne a few moments before she could actually process what he had just said.

"No you're not!" she nearly spat the words out, she was so angry. The Firewhiskey bottle was still firmly clutched in her right hand, and suddenly, she hurled it out the window.

The glass pane shattered, and Roxanne froze. She hadn't meant to do that, not really. Hastily, she dug her wand out of her pocked and muttered a quick spell to fix the glass.

She groaned, and settled into a chair next to James's. "Sorry about that. I didn't really mean to lose my temper. It's just that Quidditch is your dream! It's our dream. And you're actually amazing – I'm not just saying that because I'm your cousin. You could really go places, James. But I'm not just gonna sit around while you self-destruct."

"It's not that simple, Roxy."

Roxanne looked at James, really looked at him. The bags underneath his eyes were prominent, and his shoulders drooped. His hazel eyes, which had been emotionless during practice as of late, and burning during their arguments, now held nothing but bitterness.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" she suggested as gently as she could.

He sighed deeply, but obliged. "You know that I've been getting offers from Quidditch teams for a while now, right?

"Would those be the ones that you threw in the fire?"

He nodded soberly. "Well, about two weeks ago, Dad took me on a visit to the Arrows's training grounds."

Two weeks ago definitely coincided with when his moodiness began, Roxanne thought. The timeline made sense, even if his reasons were still foggy.

"Anyway, it was nice. I met some of the players, and they seemed pretty cool. Plus their workout facilities were awesome and they just built that new pitch so I got to see that. Err, well this part is kinda hard to explain… but I sort of felt like coach wasn't really interested in me."

Roxanne blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the whole time I felt like the guy was talking to my dad instead of me. I get that he's Harry bloody Potter and everyone's excited to meet him, but he wouldn't shut up about him. The guy kept going off about how he should've played professional Quidditch and how the youngest Seeker ever shouldn't have ended up as an Auror. He pretty much ignored me, and told dad that they would be delighted to have his son on the roster."

"He really said that?" Roxanne grimaced. She was finally starting to understand why James had been so moody and distant for the past two weeks.

He nodded. "I even heard him whispering to his assistant about what good publicity I would bring."

Roxanne slumped in her seat. She felt awful. "For what it's worth, I'm really sorry, James."

The words hung in the air for a while before James responded.

"It's all right."

She shook her head, suddenly incensed. "No, it's not. It's absolutely inexcusable. That bloody bastard! Have you visited any others? They can't all be that horrid!"

James looked down towards his feet. "No, but they've sent mail. I… I tried, but they all seem the same. Dad wants to take me to some of them, but…" he trailed off, a forlorn look in his eyes.

"Hey," Roxanne began, "hey, James. Look at him."

He met her gaze reluctantly, opening an unspoken line of communication between them. They had both grown up bathed in the spotlight of the tabloids, but the attention had never been this damaging. Some of her classmates were jealous, and had ambitions to be famous themselves, something that Roxanne couldn't comprehend. She knew the notoriety for what it was: a curse.

A curse that was currently making her favorite cousin miserable.

"I know it's tougher for us than most, but you can't just shut down. You're the best person I know, honestly, both on and off the Quidditch pitch, and I'm positive that there's a team out there that wants you for your talent, not your family name or anything else. You're good, James – don't forget that."

James managed a half-hearted smile in return, but it faded as quickly as it had come. Roxanne could do nothing but put her hand on his shoulder, sensing there was nothing else she could say to alleviate his distress.

They sat there in silence for a while longer, until James started dozing off and Roxanne's restlessness started to kick in.

She helped him into his bed without words, tucking the quilt over him like he was a little kid. The frown creasing his forehead subsided as he drifted off, but Roxanne didn't move until he was completely asleep. Before exiting, she proceeded to summon all the alcohol bottles in the room, and then banished them, one-by-one.

Roxanne was tempted to go to sleep herself; it was an escape, an easy way to forget the world and all its troubles. But her fingers were itching to do something, and she knew she couldn't rest until she did.

James knew he should snap out of it, but it was Sunday, and he was content to wallow in his misery for one more day before classes (and practice) resumed on Monday.

He winced just thinking about it. Roxanne's heartfelt comments from the night before had convinced him that quitting wasn't the answer to his dilemma, but he dreaded facing her and the rest of the team again. His guilt was eating him alive. In his melancholy, he had dragged everybody else down with him, and he couldn't feel worse.

The combination of a hangover and reluctance to see anyone resulted in him sleeping through breakfast, but he decided to relocate before any of his roommates could return and confront him about the previous night. Grabbing his sweatshirt and rubbing his bleary eyes, he stumbled off toward the Quidditch pitch.

Surprisingly, it was empty, and James found himself wishing he had brought his broom. Despite his disillusionment about playing professionally, he realized that he still loved the game of Quidditch more than anything. He strode toward the center of the field and wished harder than ever that he had a better captain the past couple of weeks.

He was still musing over his regrets when he noticed he wasn't alone. A broom was flying overhead, and its passenger was – he squinted to see – no one other than Roxanne. He groaned quietly, hoping she was out of earshot.

Luckily for him, she was. Mirroring her favorite trick as a kid, she did one and a half loops of a Sloth Grip Roll, and then dismounted less than a yard away from James.

He rolled his eyes in her direction, but couldn't help his mouth, which curled into a small smile.

"Hop on," she said simply.

He was compelled to do as she said even though he had no clue where she was taking him. There wasn't much point in sitting around the pitch without his broom, anyway.

It didn't take him long to realize that Roxanne was taking him up to the Astronomy Tower. He grinned. James had been the first one to fly directly from the pitch to the castle after practice Third Year, an incident that Roxanne had initially been hesitant about. It was definitely against the rules, but he wore her down so much that she eventually admitted that it was her preferred method of travel. He even remembered her saying, "why walk, when you can fly?" when he teasingly suggested they should start walking back again.

The memory was a fond one, and he couldn't help but think of all the experiences he had shared with Roxanne. He had other friends, of course, and so did she, but she knew him better than anyone else. Whatever she was doing had a point to it, and James was content to wait and find out.

Once they crossed the threshold of the tower and dismounted, Roxanne whipped out a black headband and wrapped it over his eyes. James was surprised but didn't protest. Even if she was leading him into a trap set by one of his crazy ex-girlfriends, he would follow. He deserved that much after what he had done to his team.

He lost track of time as he followed her blindly. She walked at a brisk pace, and he concentrated on matching her steps and turns, even though she rested her hand on his shoulder to guide him.

Eventually, she came to a halt, with James following suit a second later. She slipped the blindfold off his head, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself looking directly into Roxanne's dark brown ones. He opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it.

"Hey. I knew you were looking forward to being a recluse all day, but I have something to cheer you up."

He looked at her doubtfully, and was rewarded with an eye roll.

"Be prepared to eat your words, James Potter," she said seriously. Then she swung open the door, which he recognized as belong to the Room of Requirement once his eyes adjusted to the light, and shoved him through.

Instantly, a furry figure came barreling toward James, nearly knocking him over. However, James had exceptional balance thanks to years on a broomstick and recovered quickly from the impact. It took him a bit longer to process the fact that there was currently a beautiful golden retriever lying at his feet.

"H-h-how?" he stuttered. His hazel eyes were the size of saucers as he stared, slack-jawed at Roxanne.

Roxanne smiled. She was proud of herself. Seeing James like that last night had prompted her do something special for him, and Roxanne didn't do anything small. She had tried to think of the last time she had seen James blissfully happy, which was difficult once she ruled out Quidditch. Considering the circumstances, she didn't think it would cheer him up that much. Instead, she remembered how excited James had been to get a dog for his birthday two summers ago.

James named the rambunctious golden retriever Ollie, after Oliver Wood, star keeper for Puddlemere United. Boy and dog had been practically inseparable for the entire summer. Roxanne vividly remembered how upset James had been because he didn't want to leave the dog at home when he returned to Hogwarts. Aunt Ginny had promised to take good care of Ollie, but James wouldn't take no for an answer. Roxanne would never forget the escapade that had ensued.

With the help of his father's invisibility cloak and a silencing spell (cast illegally with his mother's wand, as James was still underage), he had managed to sneak Ollie into Hogwarts. The dog had lived in the fourth year boys' dormitory for almost three weeks before his roommates got sick of him chewing up their stuff and the smell became too difficult to mask. James had received detention for the rest of the year, but he was more displeased about the fact that Ollie had to go home.

Getting Ollie to Hogwarts a second time had been substantially easier, although Roxanne wasn't going to let James know that. She had owled Uncle Harry promptly after their conversation last night, and reminded him that he owed her a favor. She had been expecting a little more trouble until she realized that Harry was a seasoned expert at sneaking in and out of the school.

They had met in the Room of Requirement after breakfast. Roxanne had asked how he had gotten in, but Harry had only mumbled something about a portrait and left as soon as he came, promising to return in the afternoon.

"Give me some credit. Do you think my dad would let me go to Hogwarts without knowing how to smuggle stuff in?"

"I don't know how to make this up to you," James said solemnly.

"So don't."

"I don't even know how you got him here and I've been such a fucking mess lately and I can't believe you'd do something like this for me and—"

Roxanne cut him off. "Shut up, James. It was the least I could do. You've been going through a rough patch, so I figured you just needed to get your head on straight was all."

"I'm sorry for what I put you through."

"It's all right."

"No, really. I was horrible."

"Yeah, you kinda were," Roxanne said with a smirk but James had already moved to his next thought.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, "I made Liz cry! She never cries. I'm such a fuck-up."

"Well, I can't deny that one, but I'm sure she'll forgive you after you apologize at practice tomorrow. I know I already have."

James smiled. "You kind of had to. If you didn't, I'd show everyone those pictures Louis took when you had that allergic reaction to the new batch of Nosebleed Nougats!"

Roxanne gasped in horror, but her eyes betrayed a different story. "You wouldn't!"

"Nah, I'm not that much of a prat. I suppose I should probably burn them now, after all you've done for me."

"Don't bother. I still have all the pictures from when you tried to fit into Lily's fairy princess costume on Halloween, anyways."

"Roxy, Roxy, Roxy. Have I mentioned lately that you'll always be my favorite cousin?"

"Maybe. But it can't hurt to hear it again!"

Author's Note: Whew! That was quite a hefty one-shot. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you'd like, let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading :)