"By the way, I think Padfoot's looking for you." James Potter

CHAPTER ONE

So I suppose you could say it all started at the Quidditch final last year.

Gryffindor had slaughtered Slytherin as predicted, and returned to a typically wild after-party in the common room. Big news huh? Which teen romance doesn't start with loud music on full blast, rogue bludgers whizzing around the heads of drunk adolescents, Fire whiskey chugging competitions, numerous games of spin the bottle...and intoxicated Chasers chasing guys instead of sticking to the much more sensible Quaffle?

Not that I'm by any means calling this a teen romance. Sorry but ew.

And the intoxicated Chaser at this particular party? Yup, you guessed it: that's me. Sixth-year Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and also the only female member of said team, something I was actually more proud of than the position itself. As a chaser, I played alongside James Potter, something I really didn't sign up for. I guess he's an alright guy when he's not too busy drooling over Lily, but seriously – talk about hogging the ball. Last year we'd voted him Quidditch Captain, even though after a 30 minute acceptance speech listing all the people he wanted to thank and not to mention all the ones he didn't, believe me: we were all changing our minds. But perhaps I'm being too harsh; under James's carefully planned rehearsal schedule, the Gryffindor team hadn't lost a match all year; although when I say carefully planned, what I really mean is obsessively OTT. He'd got the whole team round over to his parent's house a few summers ago for a five-week intensive Quidditch course, hoping it would help us bond and boost team spirit; he was right, it did help us bond, but over the fact that we all hated his guts for making us spend our summer in his back yard.

That being said though, Quidditch was what kept me going; school work was ridiculously stressful and, as I had happily assumed the 'who needs it?' philosophy during fifth-year, I had a lot of catching up to do if I wanted to pass my NEWTS. I spent the entire first term in the library (no joke, I literally slept there) studying my ass off, to the point where I had read almost everything on my chosen subjects and was even asking to borrow books off the Slytherins. Not a good idea, as many of them weren't prepared to return the polite tone I adopted and found it funny to just hex me instead. I learnt to ask with simple blackmail; "Give me that Charms textbook or spend the week in the hospital wing with your face covered in exploding boils; your choice."

People say I'm what you call a strong personality, and I suppose it's true that I'm highly intelligent, dazzlingly gorgeous and incredibly skilled in everything I do. Sarcasm. I'm stubborn, sometimes mean, and extremely impulsive, not to mention I've got the worse temper in the world. Hey, at least I can admit it! You wouldn't believe some of the conceited blokes we've got in Gryffindor, which leads me nicely onto the other subject of this story besides yours truly; Sirius Black.

Think tall, dark-haired, incredibly good-looking – but all this completely ruined by the fact that he's an arrogant idiot. Oh yes he might think he's the funniest guy on the planet and that he's smart for pulling pranks in class or taking girls up to the Astronomy Tower, but it's all a lie.

I know saying that's only going to make me sound even shallower later on, but that night, as I waltzed down the stairs from the girl's dormitory wearing a short midnight blue dress and with my hair (which is long and brown and boring) twisted into a messy side plait, I felt great. The whole common room had been taken over by the party; even Remus Lupin, whose sandy hair and freckled complexion was usually hidden behind a book, had got himself drunk and was dancing, not particularly innocently I might add, with Marlene, who had really gone to town on her appearance and spent the previous two nights sleeping in curlers to achieve the glorious wave of golden curls that now cascaded down her back. Lily, who also looked pretty good in a black lace crop top and tight-fitting skirt, had spotted James looking for her and gone to hide, whilst my last dorm mate Alice, wearing an understated white halter-neck dress, was talking loudly over the music with Frank Longbottom. This left me. Skip forwards an hour or so and I'm completely drunk and surprisingly sitting under the arm of Arthur Weasley, who was even more out of it than I was.

"I'm gonna go find Lily," I shouted at him over the music, and ducked under his arm, narrowly escaping his other hand which was trying to pull me onto his lap. I turned and waved at him stupidly, only realising a split second later that it made me look like an air-head, before disappearing into the crowd.

I ended up pressed flush up against my fellow Hogwarts students, all of whom were drunk, shouting loudly and attempting to dance. I felt small and claustrophobic. Let me just point out that I'm normally really into these post-Quidditch parties, but at this point I was on my own and I wanted to find my friends: although how exactly I was going to do that in this raucous gang I had no idea.

"Lily Evans!" I yelled, hoping she'd hear me; the common room's not that big after all. Someone did hear me, but it wasn't the someone I was looking for.

"You haven't seen her, have you?" James Potter said anxiously, fighting his way through the crowd towards me. Yeah I'll say it; Potter's attractive. He's got this stylishly messy black hair, a winning smile, big shining blue eyes and not a bad body too. Honestly Lily, you don't know what you have till you lose it.

I grinned at him. "Hence the shouting. I thought I saw her with Marlene earlier, but you know what she's like; always disappearing."

"Tell me about it," said James unhappily. I feel sorry for him sometimes; he tries so hard with that girl only to be rejected again and again. I made a mental note to talk some sense into her later.

"By the way, I think Padfoot's looking for you."

"Come again?"

"Sirius is looking for you. Sirius Black," he said very slowly and deliberately as if I was stupid and didn't know who Padfoot was. I may not get on with him 24/7, but Black and I run in the same circles; my friends are his friends and vice versa. So yeah, seeing as I'd been around him since I was eleven, by this point I knew about their weird animal nicknames, and that private foursome club called the 'Marauders'. Merlin knows what those guys get up to in their spare time.

"Yeah I got it the first time, James," I snapped. "What the hell does Black want?"

James shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? I saw him after the match finished and he asked me where you were; I was trying to find Lily so we went different ways. I haven't seen him all night."

Confused, I left James with a group of adoring female Quidditch fans and went off on a manhunt. Even as I searched for him, I didn't know what I was doing; looking for Sirius Black...seriously, you'd think I had a death wish. Most of the time I can't stand him, which is a feeling I'm not afraid to express; we almost always end up fighting, and the few times that we're civil, I get Lily whispering something about sexual tension in my ear. Sometimes you can't win.

I ran around like a mad thing (don't forget I was totally pissed) for about half an hour searching. At one point, I spotted someone who had the same dark hair locked in an embrace with a brunette girl and thought I'd found him – except when they broke apart it turned out to be Evan Rosier with none other than Saoirse Finnigan, pretty Ravenclaw and one of my good friends. She grinned at Rosier – who's a git and probably couldn't believe his luck – before noticing me gaping at her and turning an unflattering shade of crimson.

I didn't even say anything, just gave her a fiery stare and stalked right on past without a backwards glance. She ruined my swagger by catching up a minute later.

"It's not what it looks like," she said earnestly.

"Oh, my mistake. Did Rosier have something stuck in his throat that you were helpfully fishing out with your tongue?"

She looked a bit wounded. "We've been seeing each other for ages."

"How did you even get a Slytherin up here without someone tearing his head off? Doing what you're doing probably isn't the best idea at the party celebrating the fact that the Slytherins were annihilated on the Quidditch pitch this afternoon."

"But he's allowed to be here; Pettigrew invited him!" Saoirse said eagerly. "He's not bitter about the match or anything; he's not even interested in Quidditch."

"Oh sure he's not. Who do you thinks' been coming to the Slytherin tryouts for the last six years?"

I felt a bit mean when she didn't reply, and stopped to look at her. "Look Sear, you can do what you want. Even if it has to be with Evan slimy back-stabbing low-life Rosier. Right now I'm actually looking for...someone else...so I'll see you in a bit..."

I trailed off because at that point I spotted another Sirius lookalike and darted off into the crowd. However when he turned around to talk to his mates it turned out to be some fifth year I didn't recognize and, as this was turning into a bit of a wild goose chase, I found an empty armchair away from everyone and collapsed down into it, thoroughly worn out.

Fourth and fifth years were drifting off to bed while the seventh year prefects began to usher everyone else off the dance floor. Most of them simply shrugged and took the party out to the Room of Requirement; I spotted Lupin with his arm round Marlene, and James trying to catch up with Lily who had seen him behind her and had practically dashed out of the portrait hole to escape.

I was too tired to move. Someone lit the fire and the strong heat washed over me like a tidal wave, pinning my limbs to the soft red velvet and turning my muscles to jelly. I would've fallen asleep right then and there, if I hadn't heard someone creeping up behind me. Just call me 007.

Turning around sharply, I saw the person I'd been hunting for all night, downing the contents of a bottle of Fire-whiskey.

"Damn, Vance," Sirius said with a smirk, dropping the bottle to the floor and flinging himself down in the armchair opposite me. "Life and soul of the party, aren't we?"

I would've said something clever had I not been biting back pain; spinning round so fast had given me whiplash. I know; pretty smooth right?

Lounging in the chair with his arms flung out like that, it was easy to tell Sirius was the school's heartthrob. His dark hair was pushed back off his forehead and was in its usual state of casually messy disarray; two grey-blue eyes sparkled down at me disarmingly; his shirt was untucked and his tie was loose around his neck like a dog collar. He grinned wolfishly at me, exposing perfect white teeth.

"Sirius Black," I growled, rubbing my sore neck tenderly. "Why is it that when I'm looking for you, you're nowhere to be seen, and when I'm not..."

"It's part of my charm." He winked. "You were looking for me? Oh Merlin, what have I done this time?"

I scowled at him. "Potter said you were looking for me. I was only trying to make things easier for you, considerate human being that I am."

"Prongs said I was looking for you? I knew he was drunk but I didn't know he was that drunk. As if I'd want someone around who always sucks the fun out of everything."

"Oh shut up, Black."

"Ooh, cutting. That one hurt me deep inside. I know you're only trying to conceal your true feelings for me, but you don't have to be so brutal about it; not sure I can take another verbal attack as violent as that one."

And people wonder why I don't get along with him.

"If you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave me alone," I said coldly. "I've had a pretty awful night actually so I'd really rather you went and found someone else to piss off."

He looked genuinely taken aback at the lack of sarcasm in my voice, and I watched him with a certain satisfaction as he struggled to find something to say; seriously, I can read him like a book and he's only comfortable when he's acting like a prat.

"Why do me and you always have to fight, Emmeline?"

Ok, so I didn't see that coming.

It was my turn to struggle for words. "Because...because I can't have a conversation with you without you saying something that you know is going to wind me up. And because...because you're the most arrogant prat I've ever had the misfortune to meet, and you're argumentative and annoying and–"

"Ok I get it –"

"Hey, the A's were just the start, I could work my way through the alphabet finding words that describe you. Belittling, big-headed: if you were a girl I'd call you a -"

"Look, just listen for a minute will you? I don't want us to fight anymore. I'm sick of being at each other's throats all the time, when realistically, if we made the effort, I reckon we could get on pretty well."

There was a pause. "Um, Black, how drunk are you?"

"I mean it. I really do want us to be friends."

And what was weird was that he did mean it. I'd seen him effortlessly spin stories to teachers and girls and even his best mates before, but there was sincerity behind his eyes and I could tell that what he had said wasn't a lie. Whether that was down to his actual good nature or his alcohol consumption I couldn't tell, but it was the first time he'd ever mentioned any desire to be friends and...well, it was late, we were drunk and I was too tired to put up a fight. Sue me.

I smiled at him weakly, feeling stupid after my immature tirade of abuse. "Sure, ok. Me too."

"Good," he said, returning the smile and standing up to stretch himself. "Hey, wanna come upstairs with me?"

Woah. That right there is the definition of moving too fast; we'd barely called a truce on six years of arguing before he was inviting me up to his room. Alarm bells started ringing. This is why we never befriend a nasty boy like Sirius Black chided a little voice in my head.

The 'nasty boy' must've sensed the shock and suspicion on my face because he sighed and crouched down beside me. "None of the others are back yet and-" he lowered his voice to a melodramatic whisper as if he was passing on prime gossip "-sleeping in an empty dormitory on your own is scary as hell."

I raised an eyebrow. "Sirius Black, scared of the dark?"

He grinned. "Don't tell anyone, it'll completely ruin my reputation."

"What, your reputation as a player or as an idiot?"

"Just when we were getting along so well." He shook his head in feigned disappointment. "Come on Vance – do you really want to stay down here on your own? No one will be back for ages yet and Filch is bound to come crawling around."

He had a point.

The boy's dormitory had changed since I'd last visited, That sounded like I go all the time, which I don't by the way. The last time I explored that particular slice of man heaven was back in fourth year when we'd had a giant group sleepover after our mock OWLS, and I can still remember the horror as I first walked in; dirty clothes thrown everywhere, duvets on the floor, pillows split and leaking feathers, trunks emptied out onto beds and a stale smell of sweat and body odour hanging in the air. Lovely. Hey, I was used to sharing a dorm with Lily Evans, which means either you learn to keep yourself organised or you get out.

Now, it was less like a war zone and more like an ordinary dormitory; four beds were positioned around the room with four trunks at the foot of each. It was easy to tell who's was who's.

The bed by the window on the far left was Remus Lupin's: it was by far the neatest and there was a towering pile of books stacked next to his trunk (another giveaway as it was printed with R.J Lupin). Next to that was James's bed, which again was easy to identify; it was covered with a Gryffindor Quidditch duvet onto which he had thrown his Quidditch robes, and above the headboard were tacked numerous diagrams and lists of tactics he had yet to share with the team. Peter's bed was surprisingly the messiest; he was obviously a fitful sleeper as his pillow, duvet and mattress were all overturned onto the floor.

Sirius's bed, which was the nearest to the door, was positioned right below the skylight window, through which a shining crescent moon was visibly glittering in the night sky. His bed was reasonably tidy, apart from a small pile of schoolwork he was obviously in the middle of completing, and he had covered his free wall space with drawings and photographs.

Sirius noticed me looking. "I did most of them in first year," he said quickly as I wandered over to have a closer look. His drawings were beautiful; wild pencil sketches of dragons and unicorns and hippogriffs, and his photography was no less breath-taking. A lot of the moving black and white pictures were of Hogwarts, some taken in mid winter where the turrets were coated in a blanket of snow, and some taken in the hazy heat of summer. My favourite though was a photo partly concealed by an out-of-place exam schedule that had been grudgingly tacked up; it was a photograph of all the sixth-year Gryffindors, taken as we got off the train at the beginning of the year. Me, Lily and Marlene were all laughing at something Peter had said while Sirius and James were posing goofily with their arms round each other's shoulders, and Remus and Alice were comparing timetables before both glancing up at the camera and smiling briefly.

I slid it out from underneath the exam table and sat down on the bed, staring at the moving figures intently. Sirius sat beside me, and we stayed in silence for a while, listening to the slow ticking of the clock and the muffled shouts of the prefects trying to regain order downstairs.

"I forget where we are sometimes," Sirius said abruptly. "I forget it's a school and that we're going to have to leave next year and actually do stuff on our own."

I nodded, still looking at the photo. "It was so out of the blue. First the letter, then Diagon Alley, then seeing this place for the first time…I get scared sometimes that it's all a dream and one day I'm going to wake up and have to go back to how it was before."

I looked up laughing, expecting to find him raising his eyebrows at how serious the conversation was becoming, but he was staring at me as if properly seeing me for the first time.

And that's when he suddenly leaned in, slid his arms round my waist and pressed his lips to mine, gently pushing me backwards onto the bed. I didn't even have time to call him an asshole.

A/N: Thankyou for reading! This is my first multi-chapter fanfic that I've been thinking of posting for awhile, as Emmeline was always a character that I wanted to know more about. Hope you enjoyed Chapter 1! If you did, leave a review or keep reading :)