"What do you mean you've never been to a Quidditch match?!"
Lily heaved a big sigh, not unused to comments like these from her friends. "What I mean, Black, is that I've never been so desperate to appear normal as to ignore my studies, hobbies, and basic needs. In short, that I've never been to a Quidditch match."
Sirius, finally having recovered enough to pick his jaw back up from the floor, plopped down beside her on the couch. "But Quidditch is the best!" he protested, snatching the book she was buried in, snapping it shut, and tossing it aside. "Nobody can call themself a wizard without seeing at least onegame."
"I assure you that I've never gone to one, and I feel very confident in calling myself a witch," she replied with a feminist cock of the eyebrow.
Sirius rolled his eyes and set his jaw defiantly. "You don't know what you're talking about. You've never seen one, and thus, couldn't possibly understand."
"No, you're right, I haven't seen one, but I've read about Quidditch, and I took flying lessons same as you in first year. Not to mention, it's not like wizards have the patent on any competitive athletics. There're loads of romanticized muggle sports in the high school environment I've seen, and they're better than Quidditch in just about every respect anyways."
"Better than Quidditch? Not so!" He cried out, leaping up from his position on the couch.
"Oh, of course. They only have a set amount of time that they last, parameters to prevent people from seriously hurting themselves, and an absence of ridiculously high scoring moves that make the rest of the game obsolete. They're actually easy to watch, because the players are on the ground and in a contained space. They're actually interesting to watch, because the players aren't off doing their own thing or stalling for the only important members to complete their task. They're actually safe to watch, because they're concerned for the wellbeing of the audience. How could they possibly be better than Quidditch?" Lily paused for breath, and finally looked up at Sirius. He didn't look put out at all, rather, a sly grin was forming on his face.
"I'll tell you what these other games don't have that Quidditch does," he stated happily.
"What, a sense of adventure? Flying? Magic? Do tell."
"James."
"Potter?" she asked incredulously. A small blush tickled her cheeks, but she refused to pay it any notice.
"Yeah, you know, James!" he elaborated with a smile. "Light of your life, crush of your schooldays, father of your unborn babies… the one that makes you blush like you are right now."
Blood flooded her head, and Lily was at a loss for words. Finally, in an effort to save face at all costs, she muttered an indignant, "You're being ridiculous."
Sirius elegantly folded himself back onto the sofa and slung an arm over Lily's shoulders. "Alright, love, then I'm ridiculous. Just go ahead and prove me wrong. Let me take you to the next Quidditch game, and we'll just wait and see if you don't swoon over James in his uniform and come out a Quidditch convert."
"Fine, I'll prove you wrong. But don't come crying to me when you're embarrassed at your pathetic matchmaking skills." She shoved his arm off her shoulders and stood up, retrieving her book from the nearby table. As she grumpily made her way up to the girls' dormitory, she threw over her shoulder "And I won't be here in twenty years, either, when you realize how pointless your favourite pastime is."
"Sure you won't, Lils," he chirped. He didn't need to even do anything in preparation for this weekend's game; she was in deeper than he thought.
Lily took a nervous breath before entering the Great Hall. She knew she was going to go to a Quidditch match today. She knew she was going to see James today. On a broom. She knew Sirius was going to pester her about James, and probably force her to admit that she fancied him.
She wanted to vomit and crawl back into bed.
Buck up, she thought to herself sternly. You're a Gryffindor going to a Gryffindor Quidditch game. I think you'll survive.
Predictably, though still much to her chagrin, Lily found her friends sitting with the Marauders. She grumbled about the unfairness of it as she slowly slumped over to sit with them. "Morning, Lily," Alice greeted sleepily. "Full of house pride, as usual, I see." Lily looked around and noticed that the entire table was donning bright red and gold outfits. James was in his Quidditch uniform (though the view was much better than usual, since the cape wasn't there to obscure anything), as well as Hestia, and Sirius had painted the Gryffindor crest on his face. "I'm in my robes; they come with my house's tie," she countered, grabbing a slice of toast. "Plus, my hair is bright red, so I've already beat you all."
A few people murmured their agreement, but James finally looked up from his cereal and bleated, "As if you'll even go."
"I–I…" Lily stammered. Sirius hadn't told him? She had been sure it was the main event of the day and that their evening had been filled with his bragging and exaggerated tales. She looked over at Sirius who gave her a bashful wink and put a finger to his lips. She was torn between following his instructions and boldly ruining his mysterious plan, but decided to take the safe route for the time being. "… you never know," she finished weakly. Taking in his appearance, she added, "Are you ok?"
"Aww, is little Lilykins worried about her Jamesiepoo?" Sirius asked condescendingly. "It's ok, flower, we understand that girls like to mother the blokes they fancy." Lily glared at him for a few moments, before returning to James. He had deep circles under his eyes, his hair was in greater disarray than usual, his face was unbelievably pale, and his body language shrieked leave me alone. She expected him to give an answer to her question, but none was forthcoming. Finally, she looked to Remus for help.
"He had a bad dream, and now he's terrified that he's going to make his team lose," he supplied helpfully. Lily considered telling James not to worry, since chasers didn't matter a thing to the outcome of the game, but she bit her tongue. Instead, she asked, "Do we need this one for the cup?" She knew it wasn't the final match of the year, which almost religiously came down to Gryffindor and Slytherin – it was just a little one against Ravenclaw.
"No, not really," he answered, "but it doesn't matter. Haven't you ever seen him before a game before?"
"No," she said sheepishly. "I generally wait until it's already started to come down and get my breakfast." A blush was threatening to colour her cheeks. Fortunately, the conversation couldn't continue, because Professor Mcgonagall had walked over to stand behind them.
"Potter," she said, laying a hand on his shoulder, "It's time. You should head down." She started to walk away, before turning over her shoulder and adding, "And please do take care to win this one, Potter. I'm afraid Professor Flitwick will never let me hear the end of it if you do not."
James turned to face his fellow Marauders. With a nervous, yet still gloomy smile, he said, "See you on the other side, mates." Then he and Hestia made their way out of the Great Hall.
The rest of them continued to make idle conversation about homework, gossip, and Quidditch after they left. When Lily had finished her toast, she look around and noticed that Sirius, Remus, and Peter were all done with breakfast as well. "Should we be heading down, then? The game must be starting soon."
"Right!" Sirius said happily, jumping up. He grabbed Lily's hand and swung it back and forth as he led her out of the Hall. However, while Remus and Peter made their way out and toward the Quidditch pitch, Sirius led her toward the stairs. "Uhh, Black?" she started hesitantly, "where are we going?"
He moved his arm to around her shoulders as he continued to guide her upstairs. "I'm sorry, dear Lilypetal, but there is absolutely no way I can allow you to go see a Quidditch match – your first Quidditch match, no less – in your school robes. You're simply going to have to change."
When they got to the Gryffindor common room, he gave Lily a big shove toward the girls' staircase. "What's wrong with my robes, again?" she asked timidly.
"They're boring. They don't support Gryffindor. They say to the entire world "I'm a huge stick in the mud' and they're wetter than a wet towel." Sirius was lying down on one of the three-seater chesterfields, preparing to lounge.
"Right," she said with a roll of her eyes. "What am I supposed to wear, then?"
"Oh, stop acting like this is the worst thing in the world. Go throw on something red and gold and get down here so you can go support your house for the first time in seven years of living here." His arms were cradling his head, and his legs were propped up on one of the sofa's arms. He had closed his eyes.
"You know, being a redhead, I don't tend to buy much red," she argued.
"I'm sure you can find something, Evans. You're a bright girl. Now stop stalling."
With a huff, Lily trekked upstairs and began the arduous task of hunting through clothes. Since she always needed muggle clothes for the summer and just wore her school robes during the year, she didn't own anything magical, but she didn't think Siruis would care too much. She threw on a pair of jeans and started taking a mental inventory of her tops. After concluding that she truly owned nothing even remotely red (not even a dark pink or a brown with a reddish hue) she selected a pale yellow t-shirt that could potentially pass for gold.
As she descended the staircase, Sirius lazily opened one eye to appraise her outfit. "What the hell are you wearing?" he asked, sitting up. She gave him a slightly embarrassed shrug in response. "Evans, your pants are blue. You can't wear something blue to a match where we're up against Ravenclaw! And your shirt isn't even gold. It's yellow. That's Hufflepuff. This is the worst display of house colours I've ever seen." He crossed his arms to depict his disappointment.
With a big sigh, she said, "Look, I'm sorry, but I spend most of the year here, where I don't need clothes. I only buy a little for the summer, and I only bring some of that here. Plus, it's not my fault that the house colours are so stupidly similar to each other."
"Be that as it may, you need something else. Go back up and try again." He looked very put out.
"I assure you I don't have anything else, and none of the other girls' clothes would fit me." She crossed her arms too, for extra measure.
"Well, then it appears we are at an impasse. I refuse to take you to the game dressed like that, and you can't make good on your part of the bet if I don't." Both Lily and Sirius continued to stare the other directly in the eye, composing a picturesque Mexican standoff. Were it a cartoon, a cricket would have been heard in the distance, but as it was, only a faint cheer came through from the Quidditch pitch.
"Gosh, listen to that, we don't have time for this," Lily said exasperatedly. "We need to get going." When he didn't budge, she continued, "Remember, I'm going to love the game? Ogle Potter in his uniform?"
As if a light bulb had been lit in his brain, Sirius's face changed from night to day with a snap of his fingers. "That's it! I know exactly what to do!" He grabbed Lily's arm and practically flew up the stairs to the boy's dormitory.
"Sirius!" she exclaimed, "what are you doing?" She was a little out of breath by the time the pair reached the Seventh Year Boys' room. She watched, bemused, as he rifled through a pile of laundry.
"Prongs's uniform," he said simply.
"Sure," she started. "What about it?"
Sirius briefly looked up from his task. "You can wear it," he stated, as if it were obvious.
She furrowed her brow and gave him an odd look. "Isn't he wearing it? Like, right now? Out on the pitch where we should be seated already?"
"No, not his current one," he explained hurriedly. "He's been on the team since he was twelve, but they give him a new uniform every year. Here we go!" He held out a red shirt proudly. "This looks like last year's. Put it on," he ordered, tossing it over.
Lily caught the shirt and held it out in front of her. It was a deep, gorgeous red, and the gold lion embroidered on the front was quite ornate. She ran her fingers over it idly. "Haven't got all day, Evans!" she heard from the other side of the room. She casually flipped the shirt over and read, "POTTER" in big gold letters on the back. Suddenly, Sirius was at her side, snatching the shirt out of her hands and pulling her yellow one off from her body. "Hey!" she cried, "What are you doing?!"
"Just moving things along," he replied casually. He pushed James's shirt over her head without so much as a second glance at her chest. "Alright, now go let me into the birds' rooms." Lily opened her mouth to protest, to explain that he couldn't get in, but he was already giving her a nudge down the stairs, saying, "Scoot!"
Lily exited the boys' room and headed towards the girls' in somewhat of a daze. James's shirt felt warm and welcoming around her body and it smelled musty and perfect. She thought she could even recognize the scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric. By the time she got up to her room, Sirius was already at the window, on his broom. Impressed, she walked over and let him in.
"Alright," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Who else sleeps here?"
"Hestia, Alice, and Mary," she said, pointing at each of their respective beds as she said their names.
Sirius quickly eyed her body. "Hestia and Mary are too big," he said matter-of-factly. With that, he moved over to Alice's chest of drawers.
"Oh, gosh, not Alice!" Lily said frantically. "She's so much smaller than me." She felt a little fat and self-conscious, but she brushed it aside.
"Oh, suck it up. It'll be fine." A few minutes and a big mess later, he pulled out a tiny pair of khaki shorts. Holding them up to the light, he said, "Well, they're not really gold, but at least they're not blue. And it's too warm for pants, anyway." He thrust them at Lily and watched as her face took on a mortified expression.
"These will never fit," she stated with a shake of her head. Sirius countered with an insistent look, and she sauntered off into the bathroom to give it a go. Slipping off her comfortable and conservative jeans, she gave them a little mock wave goodbye, before stepping into Alice's shorts. She had to do a silly little dance to get them up her hips, and even then, doing them up seemed like an impossibility. Sucking in her stomach as much as it would go, she managed to get the zipper most of the way up and fasten the button, but it was painful task. Cautiously, she walked over to the mirror. She thought she looked like a horrible slag, what with how tight the shorts were in the thighs. When she turned around, she could see part of her bum sticking out, and when she raised James's shirt, she found that her stomach bulged over the waistband. "Sirius," she called out, "these are definitely a no-go. It was a struggle just to do them up."
"Well, come out, and I'll be the judge of that," he shouted back. Knowing that there was little to no time left before the game, she just decided to go for it. She opened the door and crept out into the bedroom. Sirius turned to look at her and she could tell that he was holding back a laugh. Humiliated, she turned to go back and change, and when he saw the back, he actually did laugh. When she got to the door, however, he pulled her back. "Oh no you don't. We have to get going."
"But these are at least two sizes too small!" she objected with wide eyes. He couldn't be serious, could he?
"Yep," he conceded. "But they're on and we're late. Besides," he added with a wink, "James will love them."
And so Lily found herself at her first ever Quidditch match. It was everything she'd ever dreaded and more. She would admit, it was a bit exciting when the game first began, but that was hours ago, and she soon found herself very bored. Mary and Alice were off sitting with their boyfriends, so she found herself sandwiched between Sirius and Remus (Peter had to finish up his Charms essay before tomorrow's class). It had begun to drizzle a little, so she was cold and damp. For the most part, the game was a stalemate, although Ravenclaw was currently winning by about ten points. It was really quite a measly sum, considering the snitch's promise of one hundred and fifty, but the Gryffindor contingent of the audience was acting as if it was the end of the world.
The shorts were unbearably uncomfortable to sit in, and Lily passed the time by thinking of every sweet she wished she hadn't eaten her life. The crowd cried as the Ravencalw keeper blocked another shot, and she gave a dejected poke to her soft stomach.
Eventually, even Sirius grew tired of the never-ending game, and shifted his attention to Lily instead. "So red," he drawled, running his fingers through her hair, "describe your perfect bloke to me."
"Oh, Black, can you give it a rest?" she exclaimed exasperatedly. "I wore the shirt. And the shorts. I'm at your stupid, miserable game in this stupid, miserable weather. I have a transfiguration essay due Tuesday on a topic I don't even understand and a really great book I'm dying to finish. But instead of doing these things, I'm here, with you. Can't you just let me catch a break and stop harassing me about James?"
The corners of Sirius's mouth turned up. "Well, I suppose so. No need to harass you about him if you're on a first-name basis." Lily fumed silently and slouched down into her seat. "And I'm sure Jamesie-boy will help you out with that essay if you fill him in on your new relationship. He's quite talented at transfiguration, you know, not to mention very helpful and generous."
"Right, of course," Lily muttered, staring straight ahead. The game was suddenly much more interesting to her.
"He's very mature and manly, too," he added. Lily said nothing. "Did I also mention that he's ruggedly handsome?" Lily continued her silent treatment. "Of course, I don't need to tell you. You are the one wearing his shirt."
"You made me wear his shirt!" she cried, outraged. Sirius's face lit up, triumphantly.
"Well, sure," he admitted, "but you certainly didn't object too much. And don't think I haven't seen you smelling it wistfully when you think I'm not looking."
Lily's face turned tellingly red, but she decided that honesty was never the best policy. "I have not," she insisted stubbornly. "And if I have… once or twice… it was because I was trying to determine if the house elves used a different detergent for the boys."
"Sure," he said, drawing it out. "You just keep telling yourself that, Lily."
"I will," she said snootily. "Because it's true." Sirius gave a deep guffaw.
When it had reduced to a quiet chuckle, he patted her on the shoulder. "You know, I know Prongs is really turned on by you being so uptight and anal, but I actually think it's way hotter to see you out of control."
There were several things to which she could object in that sentence. Lily ignored the insult and innuendo, and went for the observation. "I am not 'out of control.'"
Sirius found it amusing how put out she looked. "Yes you are. Or at least, you're not in control." He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to his body. She stiffened and looked irritated, exemplifying his statement.
"Oh, please, do elaborate," she requested dryly.
"Well," he started. "You're attracted to James. You want to snog his brains out." He put a finger to her lips, effectively preventing her interruption. "You do. But you've always publicly made fun of people who are so hormone driven as you are now, so you can't do it. In order for you not to be a total hypocrite, you'd have to want a serious relationship with him, which, based on how much you stare at him during class, you actually do. However, you've adamantly insisted that he's the last person you'd ever want to date for the past six years, and so you're very embarrassed at the prospect of admitting that you were wrong." He took a look at Lily, and judging by the deer in headlights look she was sporting, he was right on the money. "So, you've decided that you're going to ignore your feelings for him. You've decided that it's just a little crush that you'll get over, and you're waiting for it to pass. But it's not passing, so your body is just proving you wrong once more, and, thus, you're not in control. You want to feel one way, but you can't stop your urges to rip off his pants, and you don't know what to do about it."
At this point, Lily had recovered enough to object: "You don't know what you're talking about. Stop pretending that you do."
"No, I really do, though." He removed his arm from her shoulders and gave her a push back into her own seat. "You can't face the embarrassment – of yourself, which is ridiculous – but nevertheless, you're choosing your pride over your happiness, not to mention James's happiness. You know he still pines after you; your fake girly sense of modesty just can't admit it."
Sirius's attention returned to the game, and from that point on, no more words were spoken. Lily felt deflated and guilty. She couldn't believe that she was so easy to read, but now that it had been said, she knew that it was exactly how she felt. She also knew that Sirius was playing her, with a careful combination of carrot and stick. She knew she should call him out and stand up for herself, but she was simply speechless.
Around dinnertime, a break was called while the professors discussed what to do about the game. Talk was that they would stop the game soon, possibly to reconvene later in the week as the search for the snitch continued. Most players took the break as an opportunity to get some food, but James flew over to talk with his friends. Sirius grabbed Lily's arm and dragged her to the front of the bleacher to meet James. Sirius gave his friend an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Super evasive snitch today, huh?"
"No, not actually," James replied. "Adam's seen it a few times, but this late in the season, I told him not to catch it unless we were in the lead, points-wise. But we're all so tied. Should I lower my stan – Lily?" Her appearance caused him quite a shock.
"Hey" she said with a smile. "Sorry the game's taking forever."
"No, I'm sorry. I doubt you wanted your first Quidditch experience to be a multi-day affair." He was smiling for Lily, but he still looked exhausted and out of sorts. It broke her heart and she stepped closer so she could take his hand supportively. He was surprised and ecstatic and the contact, although he was sure she was disgusted by the fact that it was clammy. James looked Lily over, up and down, trying to remember how beautiful she was for later. Then something unexpected caught his eye. "Is that my shirt?" he asked, confused. "It is – that's my shirt!" he shouted, somewhat giddy. "Why are you wearing my shirt?"
Lily dropped his hand and backed away, stuttering a little. Just then, a whistle was blown, signifying that the players should return to the pitch. "Oh, would you look at that?" she said, grateful for the timing. "Better head back, James, see you later!" She turned sharply and headed back to her seat, thankful to, once again, be saved by the bell.
James watched as she walked away, getting to see his name on the back of the shirt she was wearing. He replayed her calling him James in his head over and over again, and even took an appreciative glance at the uncharacteristically revealing shorts she was wearing. He slowly flew down to the pitch with a smile plastered to his face.
Lily listened as Dumbledore explained that the game would continue until half past eight, at which point, if the snitch remained uncaught, the match would be placed on hold, to resume the following afternoon. She watched as the game started up again, and as James started to play with a renewed vigour. She watched him score five goals in fairly rapid succession, and she listened as the announcer happily declared that Gryffindor had captured the elusive snitch. She even watched as James flew up to her bleacher and heard him shout her name. But she felt it when he grabbed her arm.
He dragged her to the end of the bleacher, hopped off the edge, and jumped on his broom. He still had her by the arm. "James, what are you doing?" she asked with a quiet laugh. She'd been sitting in the same uncomfortable seat for hours. Her back was sore, she wanted out of Alice's shorts, and she unbelievably tired.
James gave a hearty chuckle at his sudden bout of impulsiveness. "Go out with me, Evans?"
Lily looked up, past James's defined chest, to his face. He sported a grin transparently powered by endorphins and adrenaline. His hair stuck out in all directions and a thin layer of sweat shone on his cheeks. He was beautiful and perfect, and she wished she had a camera.
He was exhausted, and it had caused his insecurities to seem insignificant; she was exhausted, and it was causing her qualms to seem immature.
When she nodded her head yes and was tossed on to his broom, she didn't care that she had said she loathed him. She didn't care that she had sworn time and time again that she would never date him, and she also didn't care that Sirius had played her better than he played his fling of the week. She didn't even care that her bum was still poking out of Alice's shorts and that she looked like a slag in front of the whole school.
And when James flew her well off the pitch, she didn't care that she hated brooms or was afraid of flying. She didn't care that James was a take-charge kind of boyfriend and that it should conflict with her second-wave feminist ideology. When she finally got to snog her new boyfriend's brains out, she especially didn't care that she should have been working on her transfiguration essay or finishing her really great book.
Lily Evans was not in control, and she didn't care.
There was a war brewing beyond the world of Quidditch and amorous boyfriends, and in that moment, Lily Evans couldn't care less.
And when Lily Evans was later asked about Quidditch being the best sport ever, she wouldn't care about the trivial matter enough to disagree with the man to whom she would forever be indebted.