A few days after my birthday, James and Fred came over for a training session with my grandad. The three of us were the only remnants of the once glorious Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Which is not to say that it won't be glorious again if James had any say in it. He just had to practically rebuild the whole team with new people.

My parents were away training, both of them had matches coming up. Mum was still fighting with Orlov since he apparently gave an interview for Witch Weekly claiming he had some 'concerns about certain members of his team' when asked about relationships between players from opposing teams and how that affects the play. According to mum, the journalist was obviously fed the question before the interview by Orlov's manager.

Dad once again managed to hex Rita Skeeter. He banned her from doing one on one interviews with him but yesterday the whole team was being interviewed together and she implied dad was having an elaborate affair, a whole other family somewhere in Norway he supported and kept secret. Apparently, the Healers at St Mungo's still haven't been able to put her nose and face to the way they used to look. Dad claimed temporary insanity due to being hit in the head by a Bludger during practice right before the interview. It was his favourite excuse. He was lucky he had a horde of fans. It was kind of cool that he had an arch nemesis, even if the nemesis in question was just an unscrupulous journalist.

Grandad was in his study finishing up a chapter of this secret book he was writing. He wouldn't tell any of us what it's about but his book club apparently supported him. They met once a week in Mrs Jameson's cottage nearby. She was the go-to person if you wanted to hear the latest gossip. Useful lady.

It was a dry and sunny day, perfect for Quidditch. There was no point in wearing robes so we all started out in shorts and T-shirts but as it got hotter, the boys took off their shirts. If they were hoping that would distract me, they were wrong. Honestly, the male body is not that special. Though they were nice to look at. But, I've already seen them numerous times, either during practice or when we went swimming so I kept myself in check and kept my eyes on the Bludgers.

James and Fred were currently practising Quaffle passes while doing their best to dodge the Bludgers I sent their way. It was hard to keep up with two Bludgers without another Beater so I got hit a couple of times already, but the Stormwind flew like it read my mind and I managed to stay on my broom every time I was hit.

There was a Bludger coming from below so I did a one handed Sloth Grip Roll and sent the Bludger Fred's way. It was a little trick grandad taught me last summer. Fred's eyes were only on the Quaffle instead of following what was going on around him so it hit him in the back.

"Fuck, Quinn, what the hell? Are you trying to murder me?" Fred yelled at me while James was desperately trying to dodge both Bludgers at once because it seemed they both decided to attack only him. I flew over and hit the one that almost got him in the head. Fred was stretching out on his broom to ease his back pain which proved to be a very misguided idea because I almost knocked him out cold instead of the Bludger that was aiming for his torso.

"Merlin's saggy balls! You boys better start dodging those Bludgers so I don't have to constantly save the two of you!" As I said this, the Bludgers stopped mid-air. I turned around and saw that grandad was standing in the middle of the Pitch with his wand out and his pipe in his other hand. He was wearing his sunglasses so I couldn't read his expression.

"Freddie, if it were me in the air and not Quinn, you'd be lying in a hospital bed right about now. And you, James, you need to stop throwing the Quaffle high all the time, you're fucking predictable. Quinn, start fucking hitting that Bludger like you mean it!" grandad was yelling this as he paced around. I noticed Ziggy on the roof. He looked like he just ate a bird or something.

Oh, yeah, there it is. He coughed and a white feather flew out of his mouth. How nice.

Suddenly, a Bludger was flying towards me and I had to block it with my left arm instead of my bat because it came way too fast. Ouch. I was going to be covered in bruises after this practice ended.

Grandad was yelling again with his wand out pointed at the Bludger that hit me, "When I'm fucking talking you don't fucking zone out!"

Fred and James were laughing at me. I threw them a dirty look and twirled my bat in what I hoped was a menacing way. Merlin, grandad sure liked to yell when he was in his coach persona. He was still doing it.

"All three of you – warm up laps around the Pitch! I don't want to see you stop until you've done twenty. I'll be watching from over there," as he said this he pointed to an old oak tree off to the side. It was the same oak tree James and I used to climb when we were younger and pretended to go on adventures. We even built a small treehouse with grandad's help. It was still there but I couldn't remember the last time we were up in it.

We all came down and left our brooms leaning against the white walls of my house. I took my water bottle and drank almost half the bottle in one go. It was getting too hot for my liking.

The boys already started on their laps without me so I had to run a little faster to catch up. As I ran up to them, Fred turned to squint at me, his dark auburn hair falling into his eyes. He smirked at me.

"How are the knickers I got you?" James started laughing at his question but soon stopped because it was hard to laugh and run at the same time. At least in grandad-approved pace.

I stuck out my tongue at Fred, "I think I'll wear them for every match this year! They really show Gryffindor pride!" The knickers he was talking about were his birthday present for me.

To tease them a little bit I sped up my pace and drew my shorts a little lower, showing the scarlet and gold knickers with the words 'Daring Gryffindor' proudly displayed. Turning around to see their faces, I heard grandad yelling, "Stop fooling around!"

I slowed down to catch my breath so the boys were running alongside me again. James was strangely silent, his face red from the sun and the running, but Fred was still joking around. I don't get how he had the energy with all the running.

"Nice bum!" he snickered, "I can see why Al has been moping around being all depressed and shit –"

"I'll hit you with a Bludger when we're finished with laps," I growled at him, "and I'll tell Ethan you hero-worship him!"

James finally found his voice, "Yeah, let's not talk about my brother. I've had enough of that from Lily," he said with a pained expression as he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked at us with a devious smirk, "Besides, the two of you really need to work on your stamina!" and he sped off, Fred rushing after him, leaving me to be the last one in what was now a race. Unacceptable.

I cursed both of them under my breath as I struggled to catch up. Then I cursed their long legs and contemplated which spell would be the best to make them shorter. As I came within throwing distance from Fred, I jumped on his back and tackled him. We went down but not before he managed to catch James' ankle and dragged him down with us.

Our laps officially over, we were lying in an out-of-breath heap on the floor, limbs tangled. I couldn't move since almost all of my extremities were under some parts of James and Fred.

"You really are trying to murder us, right?" James asked between breathing in huge gulps of air. I couldn't stop myself from laughing and then Fred started laughing and soon all three of us were laughing and nobody noticed my grandad until he loomed over us, blocking the sun.

"What, in the name of fucking Merlin, were you thinking, you bloody crazy child?" I didn't even have to look at him to know his face was contorted in a weird grimace between angry and amused.

I started to answer, "I –," another laugh erupted from me before I could finish. James and Fred were still guffawing. "I couldn't let them fucking win, could I?" I hollered.

Now grandad was in stitches.

"Up, you fools, and get on your brooms!" and he was back to yelling. Good old grandad. Scratch that, good old coach Jones.

When all of us were in the air, grandad gave us various flying exercises to work on, the toughest being able to fly upside down while either catching and passing a Quaffle or hitting a Bludger. After the flying exercises, he charmed different obstacles for Fred and James to go through and score while I had to practice precision shots with a moving target, the target being my grandad. He was bloody hard to hit, it was like he was under a dodging charm or something. When I've hit the Bludger so many times that I couldn't hold the bat anymore, he insisted I do it all over again but with my left arm. This time I didn't manage to hit him at all and with every failed hit I got angrier and more frustrated. Stupid left arm.

"That's it, I'm done!" I let out a scream of frustration as I flew to the ground, jumped off my broom and threw my bat, nearly hitting a squirrel running between two trees. James flew down next to me still holding the Quaffle and Fred was hovering above us. Grandad calmly got off his broom but I could see he was mad.

"You're done? You are not fucking done! How do you expect to get on a fucking team when you give up at the first obstacle?" he was fuming, "You're willing to tackle bloody Freddie over there because you couldn't let the two of them win in what wasn't even a competition, but you whine about this? Not fucking happening!"

I was so angry I could've hexed him if I had my wand with me. I didn't care that he was probably right. Before I could grab my bat from the ground, James put his hand on my shoulder.

"You're being stupid," he said and I felt a little bit of my anger dissipate. I was being stupid and I was mostly angry at myself.

Grandad took off his sunglasses and I could see he was frowning. "Right. Now really listen to me, all of you," as he said this he looked up at Fred and motioned for him to come down.

He continued, "The scouts don't care about who you are. They don't care about your family. What they do care about are fucking skill and teamwork. And those two things are the only fucking important things in Quidditch. And whining won't make you more skilled," he looked pointedly at me. Seriously, I whine one time and now I'm the poster girl for whining.

"So. Quinn, you're going to fucking lift weights and box and practice your left arm until you can hit me in the head with a Bludger with your eyes closed using that arm. It's not going to be easy and it's not going to happen soon. But I know you can do it and don't you dare fucking tell me again you can't do something."

I nodded. He didn't look convinced. I waved my hands in defeat, "Okay, okay, fine! Stop looking at me like that!"

Grandad just rolled his eyes and put his sunglasses back on. "James, you need to perfect your rolls," he said gruffly, "but I'm impressed by the quality of your passes if I disregard the predictability. What's your scoring percentage?"

James looked very pleased with himself with a huge grin on his face. Getting a compliment, even one masked with criticism, from my grandad was almost unheard of. "Ninety per cent, Mr Jones, but I'm trying to make it ninety-five." Unlike my parents, grandad never told my friends to call him by his name.

I could see Fred was getting bored. His interest wasn't in playing professionally. No, fearless Fred, which sounds like what could be his superhero name, had his eyes set on an Auror position. But that didn't stop him from being on the Gryffindor team and if that meant summer practices with my demanding grandfather, then Fred was going to practice.

"Are we done?" I asked, squinting up at my grandad, shielding my eyes with my hand. After flying and running around for almost the whole day I felt like I could eat three Hippogriffs.

Grandad looked us over with an amused look and said, "You're done for today, yes."

We were storing the Quidditch equipment in my parents' shed and I could feel the sweat trickling down my back. "I can't wait to jump in the shower, I'm completely soaked from practice!"

"Really? We didn't notice," James said as he gestured at the T-shirt clinging to my body uncomfortably, sharing a significant look with Fred who was grinning wildly.

"You should get soaked more often," James continued, "it might be the only way for Fred to actually see some womanly attributes." Fred threw the previously discarded dirty T-shirt he picked up from the floor at James' head.

"Hey, I've seen plenty!" he exclaimed with an offended face.

We started walking back to the house. James said teasingly, "Plenty? Mate, you haven't been with anyone since we found your crazy ex-girlfriend in a broom closet with that Ravenclaw guy, what was his name?"

Fred grudgingly replied, "Mark, fucking Mark Colton. And Julia wasn't crazy."

I whipped my head around to look at him as I opened the door of my house. "What? But that was more than a year ago! You need to get laid," we stepped in and I poured myself a glass of water, "Julia was batshit crazy, though, she wore a sweater with your face stitched on it, who in the seven hells does that?"

"I had a sweater with her face…" Fred trailed off, making James grimace and shake his head.

"But you never actually wore it! She got it for you. Of all the girls in Hogwarts…" I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to Floo Romano's and order pizza and then I'm finally getting clean. You guys can use any of the other bathrooms."

After a hot shower, we were hanging out in the living room, waiting for the pizza guy to Floo. I was actually sprawled over the sofa, my legs on James' lap, while Fred was lounging on the armchair.

"Merlin, everything fucking hurts! Why do I even play Quidditch? I don't think there's a part of my body that hasn't been hit today," I groaned as I moved my left arm. That Bludger really got it.

James looked at my arm with a worried expression, "Your arm okay? You got hit pretty bad, let me see." He inspected my arm with tips of his wand. When he tipped a particularly sore spot I yelped and withdrew my arm. He raised an eyebrow. "Obviously not okay. I'll fix it," he waved his wand and muttered some spells and I felt a little less achy.

"Thanks," I said with a grateful smile, "it's a good thing you took that emergency Healing course." His mum made him take it when he got the Captain spot so he could deal with possible small injuries during practice. Fred was endlessly teasing him about being a Mummy's boy but he didn't mind when James actually healed him a couple of times. Hypocrite.

"You got any beer, Quinn?" Fred asked.

I nodded and motioned to the kitchen, "It's in the fridge. Bring me one, too."

"James?"

"I'll have some."

At that moment my fireplace lit up with green flames and a lanky boy, who I vaguely recognised as a fourth year Slytherin appeared with the pizza I ordered earlier. I got up, paid for the pizza and set the two boxes on the coffee table.

"Bye," the boy awkwardly waved and yelled, "Romano's!" disappearing into the green flames.

Fred yelled from the kitchen, "Quinn!"

"Yeah?"

"You've only got Guinness!"

"So what? It's the only beer my grandad drinks. Bring it over!"

He came back with three bottles, "Thank Merlin the food is here, I was just about to start eating my own hand!" he exclaimed. "Didn't your grandad ever hear of lunch?"

"He heard about it, he just chose to ignore it," I said as I took a swig from the bottle. For grandad, Quidditch trumped food. James was already eating a slice and Fred looked like he was about to eat three slices in one go.

We devoured the pizza quickly and sat around, drinking beer. We each already drank two bottles and were now just sipping on the third ones.

I nudged James with my foot and he looked at me, "What?"

"You better find me a good enough Beater, Captain," I stretched out, "today was officially the Bludger-torture day."

"You're telling us! We nearly died from your hits," Fred exclaimed. He was very dramatic at times.

James had a thoughtful look and was running his fingers through his hair, "We do need a whole new team. Lily mentioned something about trying out for Seeker but I have no idea who would fill out the other positions."

I frowned at that. We needed to win the Cup again this year. It was our last chance to get picked up by the scouts.

"There must be people who play well. Fred, why doesn't your little sister try out?" I asked. Roxanne was possibly the best Quidditch player after James and Fred in the Weasley family, at least judging from what I've seen during the few summer games we all played. That girl saved almost everything that was thrown at her.

He snorted, "Roxy? She's a bloody idiot who doesn't want to participate in something that promotes a rivalry between the Houses. I don't know where she gets these ideas but I'm suspecting Aunt Audrey. She's always going off about how the House system in Hogwarts needs to be dismantled."

James groaned in frustration, "Don't remind me. But Lily also said Scorpius mentioned a girl in Gryffindor who's a good Chaser. I think her name was Wendy something. He's family friends with her but I have no idea who she is."

"Doesn't sound familiar," I shrugged, "let's hope she comes to tryouts." I turned my head towards Fred and smirked at him, "So, Fred, you conveniently ignored my comment about you needing to get laid."

"So, Quinn, how about you butt out of my romantic life?"

"Who the hell mentioned romance?" I took a sip of my beer.

Fred stared me down with narrowed eyes and said, "I did."

I made a face at him, "But come on, really –,"

James interrupted before I could badger Fred more, "How about we meet up in Diagon Alley a day or two before school starts and we can buy school things and go out later? And find Fred his 'romance'," he quipped with a grin. Fred just shot him a dark look.

"Great idea! I'll owl Dom and Ash later, they better be up for it," I said.

Fred's eyes went wide, "Ashley? You're asking her to come?"

I looked at him with a perplexed look, "Uhm, yeah? That a problem?"

He violently shook his head, "No problem, none at all."

James looked as confused by this as I was. I guess Fred was just weird sometimes. As far as I was aware, he was friendly with Ash. They played some kind of a drinking game together which involved drinking whenever someone said something in some movie they both liked at my birthday party and got pretty smashed.

"Where's Ethan?" Fred asked looking around like he expected Ethan to jump out behind the sofa.

"I think it's hilarious you're probably more interested in hanging out with my brother instead of getting laid. What kind of a teenage boy are you anyway?"

He laughed at that and drank the rest of his beer, "I'm a perfectly normal teenage boy, thank you very much. But Hit Wizards are so cool! I wonder if he'd show me some of the offensive spells they teach them during training?"

"He'd probably be open to using one of them on you if you asked him nicely," James said jokingly and had to dodge a Guinness bottle cap Fred threw at him for his troubles. "Did you find out what happened the other night?" he asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly, trying to act cool but remembering Ethan covered in blood and the reason why was not cool, "Yeah, he nearly killed a guy in a knife fight. Well, a duel but someone disarmed him so he had to use a knife as a last resort."

Fred looked like he wouldn't mind a knife fight. He probably wouldn't if it meant he'd put away a dark wizard or two.

"I didn't know they used anything other than magic!"

"They have combat training in case they can't use wands. Their knives are goblin-made and imbued with magic that allows them to penetrate most shield charms," I responded, "At least that's what Ethan told me when I asked him about it."

"Wicked!"

James was absentmindedly tracing patterns on my leg. "What's up with you today? You've been strangely quiet," I said to him.

"What? Oh, nothing."

"Not nothing, tell me," I sat up and scooted over next to him. Fred had a worried look on his face and I wondered what the hell they weren't telling me.

I poked James in the shoulder a couple of times, "Tell me, tell me!"

"Can we bring Al with us?" he asked, "He really has been moping around."

"Bring him where?" I was confused. Why were they even asking?

"To Diagon Alley?"

"Why wouldn't you bring him?"

They both groaned at that. James rolled his eyes and took a swig of his beer. Fred said, "He has this crazy idea he can win you back. The fact that Scorpius is cheering him on doesn't help."

I howled with laughter and nearly fell over from the sofa. "I'd like to see him try so yeah, bring him along, I don't care."

They shared an amused look between them. I could imagine Fred was going to tease Al mercilessly the next time he saw him.

It was already dark outside by the time we finished a game of Exploding Snap.

"I'm bored," Fred complained while James was shuffling the cards. "Let's do something fun!"

"We could go down to the pub?" I suggested as I got up from the sofa and waved my wand to clean out the mess of empty bottles and pizza boxes.

Fred grinned at me, "Yes! We haven't gone out in a while."

"Let me just grab some jeans and we can go," I said and went up to my room. As I rummaged through my closet looking for some clean jeans I heard a crack and voices from downstairs. Finally finding the jeans, I quickly changed into them and went to my bathroom to make sure I looked at least like I wasn't an undead member of the Others' army. Happy that wasn't the case, I went back downstairs where I found James and Fred, but mostly Fred, trying to talk Ethan into coming down to the pub with us. Luckily, this time he at least wasn't covered in blood.

"Hey!"

"Hey little demon," Ethan greeted me with the peculiar pet name he always called me. He said it was because when I was little I was screaming all the time just because I could so he took to calling me a little demon.

I was tying my shoelaces as I looked up at him, "You coming, then?"

James grinned at him, "C'mon mate, we haven't hung out properly since forever!" Fred was just nodding along happily. I guessed he didn't want to appear too excited. Not sure he succeeded since Ethan was looking at him with a slightly weirded out expression.

"I was supposed to go for a pint with a mate from my squad. That okay with you?"

I shrugged, Ethan's friends were usually cool, "Yep, let's go!"

We walked for about ten minutes chattering about this and that until we came to the Flying Thestral, the local wizarding pub. It was surrounded by long abandoned, dilapidated Muggle buildings. To Muggles, the pub appeared as just another old building and the wizards and witches as homeless people.

There was quite a crowd. Ethan walked in the front and greeted someone standing by the door. We walked up to them and I got a good look at what I could only describe as the absolutely hot epitome of badassery. Ethan's friend was in a long black leather cloak with dark blond hair falling into his eyes. He casually flipped his head to remove the bangs and I could see a scar running down from his ear, over his cheek and ending close to his mouth. The scar just added to his overall appeal. He was as tall as Ethan and just as muscular, though I guess that was in his job description.

Ethan turned around and started the introductions. "Everyone, this is Logan Anderson. Logan, this is James Potter," James nodded at him but Logan's eyes found mine, "and Fred –," Ethan was cut off before he could introduce Fred. Logan moved closer, still looking me in the eyes.

"And who is this?" he stared at me and I enjoyed the attention. I could see Ethan already regretting his decision to come with us.

"That, mate, is my baby sister," he said as he put a firm hand on Logan's shoulder and turned him around to enter the pub. Which didn't stop Logan from turning his head and winking at me with a sly smile. I grinned at him. Fred was next to me muttering something to himself about Hit Wizards and knives and James followed behind me.

As we entered the pub I realised why the crowd was there. A Quidditch match between the Montrose Magpies and Puddlemere United was being displayed in the centre of the pub in the form of a miniature Pitch. The players were just coming out of the locker rooms and the pub erupted in cheers from both sides. James put an arm around my shoulders so I'd have an easier time going through the throng of people to the bar table Ethan found us. Each table had an even smaller Pitch so you could watch the match without having to cram your head trying to see what was going on between all the people.

"First round's on me!" Logan yelled over the cheering and went off in the direction of the bar. The rest of us were a little squished together in the crowded space so James' arm was kind of trapped around my shoulders. I didn't mind because it meant that whenever somebody passed behind us it was mostly James that took the brunt of the impact.

"I forgot there's a game today," he said watching the players lift off the ground. Ethan was busy checking out a witch who was just passing. He wasn't that interested in Quidditch. He never even played for the Slytherin team while he was in school. Fred was trying to get him to show him one of his knives.

Logan came back with his wand out levitating the drinks in front of him. As he stood himself next to me he waved his wand and the drinks settled on the table. James scooted a bit to the side so I could have a little more room. The Magpies scored and there was a collective 'boo' from most of the pub. It seemed Puddlemere had the larger number of fans tonight.

"Who are we rooting for then?" Logan asked as he drank his beer, "I'm a Catapults fan so I'm not really invested."

I snorted at that and he looked at me sideways with a raised eyebrow, "Not a fan? What's wrong with the Catapults?"

Shaking my head I said, "Nothing's wrong with them but you really love the underdog, don't you? They've been having really bad luck these past few seasons. Though Rhys Reynolds is one of the best Beaters in the world right now."

"You play?" Logan asked as he lit a cigarette with a Zippo lighter. I could see an elaborate tattoo which started on his hand and disappeared under his sleeve but I couldn't decipher the design.

"Quinn is a Beater on our House team," James responded instead of me. He was already almost finished with his pint. I was halfway through mine.

Logan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and said in a low voice, "There's something incredibly hot about a woman wielding a Beater's bat."

As Logan said that, James downed his drink and yelled, "Another round?" Everyone nodded their heads and he went off. Puddlemere scored two times in a row and I couldn't hear anything above the cheering noise for a while. James came back with both beers and Firewhisky shots. He put his arm around my waist so he could come up behind me to his place at the table.

Ethan was finally paying attention to the match, "You think Khan will retire soon? He's almost fifty!" he asked as Riz Khan scored another goal for Puddlemere. He was one of dad's biggest rivals.

Fred looked thoughtful, "I heard mum say he's probably going at the end of the season. Something about his ligaments." Looking at miniature Khan play, you would think he's in his prime. His passes were impeccable and he had a real knack for reading the opposing Keeper.

"Dad will be devastated when that happens," Ethan sighed, downing the Firewhisky shot and eyeing the crowd.

"Really? I thought he'd be happy," Logan said with a bemused look.

Ethan shook his head, "No, he thrives on competition. I don't know what he'd do without some kind of a rival."

"Isn't your parents' match coming up?" James asked. Ethan and I both groaned and rolled our eyes at the same time as he said this.

"Merlin, don't remind us," I said as I finished my beer and put the glass on the table, "dad's been talking about re-enacting their first match since they're actually playing on the twenty-fifth anniversary, if for nothing else then to give Rita Skeeter something else to write about instead of his supposed mistress."

Fred looked interested, "Re-enacting? Why?"

Ethan laughed at that, "You don't know the story? Our parents met during the first match they played against each other," he sipped on his beer, "Dad crashed into mum in order to stop her from catching the Snitch. She still caught it so she snogged him in front of the whole crowd as a victory celebration."

James was tapping his fingers on my waist in tune to the Puddlemere anthem that the pub was playing. We were all a little bit drunk at this point. I could see a pretty witch from the next table throwing him looks but he was more interested in the game.

"And the rest is, as they say, history," I finished Ethan's story. He was now openly flirting with the girl he was eyeing before, the rest of us forgotten.

Logan leaned closer so I could smell his cologne, and asked in a husky voice, "Do you snog opposing players after a match, Quinn?" he took a drag from his cigarette and flicked the ashes away as he continued, "Or people in general?"

Before I could answer, James, who was actually following the game, yelled, "Fuck!" along with almost everyone else in the pub. I turned to look at the miniature Pitch which was replaying what happened just seconds before. Three things happened at almost the exact same time, the Magpies' Beater hit a Bludger towards Riz Khan who dodged it and scored, but one of the Puddlemere Beaters was hit in the head instead just as the Magpies' Seeker crashed into him and caught the Snitch, both of them plummeting to the ground, the Beater breaking the Seeker's fall. There was an audible crunch.

"Is he alive?" Fred asked the question everyone was thinking. Mediwizards hurried onto the field and obscured the view of the injured players. After a couple of minutes filled with uncertainty, the mediwizards gave the thumbs up and levitated the injured players off the field. The faint voice of the commentator could be heard saying that they were both alive but needed immediate transfer to St Mungo's.

The pub owner yelled over the crowd, "Next round is on the house! Let's celebrate the fact that no one died!" He turned up the music and with the match over people started dancing. Fred went over to the bar to get us the free drinks.

Ethan came back looking dejected. We downed the dark green Serpentgin shots Fred brought over.

"No luck tonight?" I asked my brother.

"She just wanted me to introduce her to James, you interested, mate?"

James looked over at the girl in question and frowned, "I'll pass."

Ethan shrugged and said, "Your loss."

I don't think anyone else heard James mutter something that sounded like, "Not really." I must have heard him wrong because of the loud music.

Logan moved even closer than he was before, flipped his head over to the part of the pub where people were dancing and said, "Let's dance."

With a huge yawn, James looked at everyone and said, "I'm so tired. Are you guys tired? You must be after that gruelling practice. Ethan, you look like a vampire!"

Ethan's eyebrows shot up but he just smirked. Fred was quick to jump on the tired bandwagon. I couldn't deny my whole body felt like I was run over by a Hippogriff. I just realised I was mostly standing up because James was partially holding me up.

"Sorry Logan, we'll have to do this some other time when I'm not falling off my feet," I tried my best to throw him what I considered my seductive smirk. I think it worked because he winked at me.

"Looking forward to it, Quinn."

We partially walked and partially stumbled back to the house. I realised that James still had his arm around my waist but if he didn't I was pretty sure I would've just sat down next to the road and waited for someone to either carry me back home or kidnap me.

When the house came into view I could see that there was a light on in Grandad's study. The curtains weren't shut and there was he was hunched over his typewriter.

Ethan opened the doors and we all crashed in the living room. Fred was lying down on the fluffy carpet. Ziggy came strutting in. He looked at us judgingly.

Grandad came in from his study. "You lot up for a drink? No? Lightweights!"

I had no capacity to answer him. I was busy thinking about tonight. Something was bothering me.

"James?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you go off with that extremely hot girl earlier?"

"I don't know, Quinn."