"Godric save me… damn you, you beast! Damn you straight to Hades!"

I throw the Instant Heated Eyelash Curler I had had previously been battling with into the ceramic sink in front of me, and sigh dejectedly, confirming my righteous decision to never have bothered with the ridiculous device in the past.

The fact that it's 4.45am in the morning does literally nothing to help my mood.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?" Roxanne demands, poking her brunette head through the doorway into the small bathroom that the girls of our dormitory share. She squints her hazel eyes as they adjust to the brightness of the room.

If you ask me, Hogwarts really cheated us when it came to the bathrooms. How in their right minds they expect five teenage girls to share two showers, two toilets, two sinks and precisely one mirror is beyond me.

The space turns into an utter bloodbath in the mornings. I always said if things turned deadly, the blood would be on Headmaster Finks' hands.

I rub my thumb over the small burn mark that the Curler has left on my eyelid, and wince visibly.

"This is a bloody nightmare, Roxy. How am I supposed to make Hogwarts most big-headed bachelor fall in love with me, if I can't even look the part!"

Roxanne shakes her head in disappointment as she enters the room, yawning and stretching her long arms above her head.

"Bloody hell, don't tell me you're still planning on going ahead with this mad plan of yours," She snarls in disapproval and I glower at her darkly. "It's bad enough that I have to get up for practice at five in the freaking morning for you, but now I also have to use my superior beauty skills to make you look somewhat decent? I hate my life."

I let a grin spread across my lips as Roxanne picks up a black, eyeliner pencil and proceeds to line the rim of my blue eyes.

"Love you, Rox," I tease, to which she mutters an acknowledgment in response.

After a few minutes of Roxanne poking and prodding my face with various makeup items, I chance a quick look in the mirror and forcibly have to hide my gasp of delight.

There's no fooling Roxanne, however, who smirks at our reflections and exclaims, "I know, I'm a miracle worker!" before bouncing out of the room to grab her Quidditch gear.

I, however, can barely tear my eyes off of my reflection. I mean, It's not that I've never worn makeup before, it's just that it's not something I do all that often, especially not to practice. My previous makeup routines have consisted of me poking myself in the eyes with eyeliner and struggling to keep my lipstick actually within the lines of my lips, so I can safely say that what Roxanne has worked on me is nothing short of magic.

The makeup is appropriately subtle, but applied in a way to enhance my natural features. The black rimming the corners of my sapphire eyes gives them a new sparkle, the apples of my cheeks are perfectly blushed, and my dusky pink lips look even fuller than usual.

"Oi you cheeky bint, stop checking yourself out and let's go already!"

"Shut it, hag,"

After trudging through the dark down to the Pitch, I bounce into the changing rooms with a new spring in my step, while Roxanne and Pippa haul themselves in behind me, half asleep and utterly miserable.

I don't care though. They can complain and curse me as much as their little heart's desire, because I look great and I know that my plan is going to work a treat and that's all that matters in life right now.

We find a place to set down our bags and change out of the warmer clothes that had been protecting us against the chill in the air and into our practice gear. Barely thirty seconds pass by before we hear James yelling outside for us to get our arses out onto the Pitch, and I supress the urge to yell unless he wants us to practice in our underwear he can bloody well hold his Hippogriffs.

I throw on a pair of black yoga pants, a fitted white t-shirt and a thin but warm blue parka overtop, as well and my aged, brown leather Beaters gloves, and jog out of the change rooms behind the rest of the team, who are all looking as miserable as Roxanne and Pip.

Lysander actually goes out of his way to knock his shoulder into me as he passes me to grab his broom from the rack, and I'm just about to kick him in the back of the leg before I feel a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist and swiftly pull me backwards out of reach.

I squirm out of the iron grasp and turn, livid, to see whoever has prevented me from exacting revenge on my moronic brother and wreak hell on them instead.

However, when I turn around I stop in my tracks to find James Potter, his black hair almost adorably tousled and his hazel eyes still heavy from sleep, yet still trying to give me his don't-mess-with-me look that reminds so much of his mother, Ginny.

I can't help myself from softening a little at the sight of it.

"Lyra, what the hell is that shit you've slapped on your face?"

Good feelings gone.

My mouth drops in utter horror and I pounce and send a swift punch into his arm, which he winces and rubs tenderly.

"What did you just say to me, you useless git?"

James narrows his eyes at me, "Why the hell are you so violent, Scamander!" he accuses, his deep voice still croaky from sleep.

"Oh right, like you're the victim," I argue, before slapping a gloved hand over my mouth, remembering that I was supposed to be playing nice and not blowing my chances of stealing the Captaincy from the tall, dark prat in front of me.

James raises his eyebrows at me and gives me a push towards the broom rack.

"Hurry up, will you. You're holding us all up."

I grab my broom from the rack, muttering profanities as I do so. That is until I head to where the team is gathered in a circle ready for James' instruction, and notice the tall, blonde-haired boy grinning at me from across the circle where he stands next to his best mate, Albus.

Albus, I'm pretty sure has fallen asleep where he's standing, using his broom to prop himself up, until I launch myself at the blonde, throwing my arms around his neck.

"Louis!" I squeal, positively giddy. "I'm so happy you're back at practice! Please say you forgive me? Go on, say it."

Louis chuckles lowly, his blue eyes crinkling as he does so, and envelopes me in his arms.

"How can I be mad at you, Ly? If we didn't have that arm of yours on the Team, we'd have no chance against the other Houses."

I step back and beam at Louis Weasley, who is another member of the Weasley-Potter clan – although a heck of a lot more tolerable, in my opinion.

And not to mention easy on the eyes.

Louis is part Veela, thanks to his Mum, Fleur, and because of this has the tell-tale golden hair and deep, blue eyes of the species.

"Merlin, Lyra, he's only been in the hospital wing for three days," Albus drawls sleepily from beside us, and I blush.

A few days ago James had us training out here until midnight, and I, in my weary state had accidentally smacked a Bludger with full force towards Louis, hitting him square in the ribs and causing a couple of broken bones.

James was frantic, to put it lightly, however Madame Tempest assured us he'd be fit and healed for the game against Slytherin, which was enough to satisfy James' fears.

I, however, couldn't help but feel awful about the whole situation.

"Alright, alright. Enough with the happy reunions, "James barks as he waves me away from Louis, "Everyone mount your brooms and take a few laps around the Pitch to warm up,"

I shoot a last grin at Louis before jumping on my broom and shooting through the air beside Roxy, ignoring Lysander's death glares as he attempts to cut me off around every corner.

After a while, James calls us back into the circle, balancing a Quaffle on his fingertips as he speaks.

"Today we're going to practice the Tutshill Twist manoeuvre," He explains, ignoring everyone's protests and tossing the Quaffle to Louis, "It can be a dangerous tactic, I'll admit, but highly effective if done right. I've never seen any of the other Hogwarts Teams use it before,"

"Probably because they prefer to live," Roxanne snorts ungraciously, "That's a risky move, James, are you sure you want to risk it?"

"Remember the player on the Tornadoes a couple of years ago who lost it during the Cup and couldn't pull up in time? I'm pretty sure he's still in St. Mungo's to this day," Pippa protests apprehensively, but James shakes his head.

"The weather conditions during that game were all wrong – Mather's couldn't see the end of his broomstick through the fog, let alone the ground. We won't make that mistake, and besides, I have faith in my Chasers," James answers confidently, and I make a gagging noise which sends Roxy into a fit of laughter.

I scan the players' faces, all of who are looking more than a little unsure about what James is proposing. Pippa had been right to be nervous about the manoeuvre. The Twist involves a Chaser diving with the Quaffle in hand, at a great speed downwards towards the Pitch, pulling up just in time to twist back and pass to one of two waiting Chasers poised within reach of the hoops.

The whole point of the move is for the Chasers to be moving too quickly for the Beaters to locate and aim a direct hit. The manoeuvre itself, however, requires speed, accuracy and a huge amount of courage.

"Pip and Louis, you're the two Chasers who need to master this move. Lysander and I will play as opposing Chasers and try to intercept the Quaffle as you pass after the dive. Lyra and Roxy will look out for the intercept and be ready to prevent it,"

I let out a whoop and high-five Roxanne. Practice couldn't get much better then actually being allowed to whack Bludgers at James and Lysander.

"Al, I want you keep an eye out for any Quaffles that are dropped or passed out of bound. Keep your speed up and don't let any ball touch the ground. Alright Team, let's get to it."

We spent around an hour working on the Twist, and I found myself actually enjoying the time.

Pippa approached the move apprehensively, which was evident by the lack of speed she gained in her dive and the amount of times that James made her start over, pressing her to move faster and faster.

Poor girl actually had tears in her eyes and refused to move an inch more by the end of it.

Louis, however, was a natural, daring himself to go faster and further before pulling up to pass the Quaffle on to Pippa, who shot the ball through the hoop with perfect aim, just so long as she wasn't the one diving.

True to his position as Seeker, Albus sped after every dropped Quaffle with speed and finesse, though Lysander was much too preoccupied with warding off my constant attacks then to actually pretend to be a Chaser. I was having the time of my life. Especially when I managed to hit a Bludger at Lysanders head while he was taking a breather.

He chased me around the Pitch for a good fifteen minutes after that. Not that he was much of a threat, to be honest. All defence and no speed, that one.

I had just managed to put enough distance between us, so that I felt somewhat safe, when I hear a voice call up from down on the Pitch.

"Hey, Scamander! Why don't you let a real flyer show you how it's done, instead of that sorry excuse for a Keeper,"

I whoop loudly and fly down to the fair-haired boy, ruffling his hair affectionately before jumping off my broom in front of him.

"One on one time, huh? I won't say no to that, Scorp," I tease, and he lets his lips curve into a smirk and raises his eyebrows at me.

Scorpius Malfoy had always had a love/hate relationship with us Gryffies, meaning that he loves some of us and hates the rest. I count myself lucky to be in the former group.

"Don't tempt me," He winks, encouraging the jest, and the entire Slytherin Team who have gathered behind him either roll their eyes or gag at the exchange.

I ignore them. Scorpius is really the only tolerable player on the Slytherin Team. Well, him and his best mate, Ed Higgs, I suppose.

Ed pretends he doesn't like me, because I get my kicks out of calling him by his full name 'Edgar', but I know he secretly likes it.

With a soft whoosh, James touches down on the ground beside me and props his broom over his toned shoulder.

"Nice move, Potter," Scorpius smirks, his light eyes growing suddenly cold. "Trying to kill your Chasers before they embarrass you in the match next week, I see."

I protest at the insult to my friends, but James stands in front of me slightly.

Whether he thinks he's guarding me from the big, bad Slytherins or he's completely forgotten my existence altogether, I don't know.

I'm betting on the latter.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" James asks darkly. It's no secret that these two have never liked each other, but things have seemed to step up a notch since we returned to Hogwarts this term.

To me, it was just one giant pain in the arse. I like Scorpius – his quick humour and wit amuse me to no end. And although he'd never admit it, he did have a gentler side that he showed on occasion.

"I've booked the Pitch this morning, take it up with Finks if you have a problem with it," Scorpius says carelessly, "I was under the impression you had it booked for last night."

"Yeah, we did." James replies through gritted teeth as he turns to scowl at me darkly.

I shrug my shoulders and hold up my hands in defence, "Err, sorry?"

"See you in Potions, Ly," Scorpius grins as he trudges past James and out onto the Pitch – his broom swung over his shoulder and a Golden Snitch struggling in his free hand.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Scorp," I sing, saluting him in false admiration and smiling demurely.

That is until James grabs me by the arm, glaring down at me through slitted, hazel eyes. And might I just add that the guy is considerably taller than me, making him look all the more menacing. I curl my lips in distaste, before remembering I needed to stick to my plan.

It took every inch of willpower that I had to relax my facial muscles into a somewhat neutral expression.

"What's going on with you two then?" James questions, rather accusingly.

I bat my eyelashes innocently, "Whatever do you mean, dear Captain?"

James rolls his eyes impatiently and begins to drag me along towards the locker rooms.

Merlin, this guy is strong.

"You and Malfoy, flirting up a storm back there! There's no way you're getting involved with another Houses player. Let alone a Captain! Let alone… Malfoy,"

"Relax, Officer Potter, have you ever heard of playful banter?" I spit back, before correcting myself, "Wait, what am I saying? Of course you haven't, you have the humour of a wingless gnat."

James scowls, and starts to retort before I interrupt him.

"Why do you care anyway?"

"Because Malfoy's a git – and as you so elegantly proved over summer with Freddie, you're incapable of making good choices,"

I couldn't help myself – I smacked him over the head with my bat.

DON'T TELL ME THAT HE DIDN'T DESERVE IT THAT TIME.

Operation: Make James Potter Fall in Love with Me

Day One: Complete and utter fail.

**

While Pippa headed back to the dormitory to fill in a couple of last minute changes to her Transfiguration essay, Roxy and I took advantage of our practice being cut short to have an early breakfast in the Great Hall, followed by promptly falling asleep with our heads on the wooden tables in front of us.

I was woken after Godric knows how long by a swift smack across the head, and I lifted my head drowsily to find Lysander seated across from me, a golden piece of toast hanging from between his teeth and his sapphire eyes sparkling menacingly.

"Please tell me that you didn't smack me with that piece of toast and then stick it in your mouth."

"Yummy – tastes like obnoxious Beater."

"You're revolting," I answer in disgust, stretching my arms above my head before rubbing at my eyes lazily.

A mere second later, James plonks himself down onto the bench next to me – picking up a large plate and piling it high with bacon and sausages. I eye him curiously and he grunts at me in acknowledgment, before shovelling a piece of perfectly crisped bacon into his mouth.

I swear to Merlin that he swallowed it whole.

A gaggle of giggling girls sit a little further down the table, gawking at James as he eats, and I resist the sudden urge to flick a spoonful of oatmeal their way.

Scowling darkly, I reach for a piece of toast and smother it with strawberry jam, then nibble on the corner of it tentatively as I watch James from the corner of my eye.

I suppose I can see what those girls would like in him – I mean, he is pretty fit, even if he is a complete tosser.

His jet-black hair, although constantly messy, falls over his face in just the right way, and his eyes are the most inviting, warm shade of brown – with small flecks of emerald green interlaced within them – and then there's his body, well, I can safely say that years of Quidditch have turned him from a scrawny kid into a lean, muscular piece of-

"Can't take your eyes off me, huh Ly?" James teases, noticing me gawking at him stupidly.

I jump awkwardly and drop my toast on the table in front of me, reaching hurriedly to pick it up.

"You, erm… have food on your face?" I offer lamely, and James wipes his face with his sleeve before going back to shovelling food into his mouth.

Phew.

Dodged that one.

I immediately go back to staring at him.

This time, however, I notice the small beginnings of a red lump forming on the side of his forehead – the tell-tale sign of being smacked with a certain hot-tempered Beaters bat.

I instantly start to feel incredibly guilty at the sight of it, and I sigh inwardly, leaning my chin on my propped up elbow as I finish my piece of toast.

How in the name of Merlins beard am I supposed to get this guy to fall for me when we can barely be within five feet of each other without resorting to both verbal and physical violence.

I mean, there's no-one who pushes my buttons quite like James Potter, except perhaps Lysander but since we're family he has no choice but to love me.

Ugh, even the thought of James and I being civil, or god forbid even nice to each other sounds like such a far off possibility to me.

Maybe Roxy's right, and this plan really is stupid.

Maybe I am insane.

"Morning all – nice to see Jamesy hasn't killed any of you yet,"

I'm interrupted from my thoughts by a thousand butterflies fluttering in my stomach as a familiar voice floats down to my ears and the owner shuffles himself on to the bench next to me.

Oh, sweet Merlins trousers.

This is not what I need right now.

"Especially you, Ly," Bastian Knox grins knowingly from beside me, and I turn slowly to face the intruder.

Immediately, something lurches in my chest.

Godric, he looks good.

Bastian Knox is a fellow Gryffindor and best mate of James and Lysander. He's also incredibly gorgeous – and boy, does he know it.

Sometimes I think he has a bigger fan club then James himself.

Well, almost.

Bastian winks at me through eyes the colour of liquid silver and I think I start to melt a little bit.

"Bash!" James cuts through my daze as he greets his friend with some kind of weird, secret handshake over the top of my head. I shrink back and groan inwardly.

Bash rans a hand through his dark hair, which is still damp from showering, before digging into the food in front of him.

He smells amazing.

I find myself leaning a little closer towards him.

"Hey, Wade!" Lysander greets a caramel-skinned boy who has seated himself on the bench next to him.

Wade Thomas grins toothily as he accepts a plate of bacon being passed over to him by James, and digs into the food.

I swear its unhealthy how much these boys eat.

Even though Bastian and Wade don't play Quidditch themselves, they seem to eat and work out as though they're training for it.

Really, though, their interests lie elsewhere.

Wade is the academic, he's pretty brilliant really. He received top marks in all of his O. and is now preparing to earn the same in his N.E. , in hopes of scoring an internship at the Ministry of Magic after leaving Hogwarts.

I think he quite fancies himself being Minister for Magic one day.

And Bash? Well, what can we say about Bastian Knox…

Bash changes many of his ambitions on an almost daily basis, but one thing with him is certain – he dreams of being an Auror, planning on beating the top records set by Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody and Harry Potter themselves.

I've got to hand it to the guy – he dreams big.

So the two of them quit Quidditch in their Fifth Year, to focus instead on their academics.

Ha! Suckers…

I feel someone's foot running up my leg under the table, and I turn and glare at Bash darkly. He shrugs his shoulders innocently in response and throws me a careless grin.

Here comes the brief and depressing history of Lyra and Bash.

You see, I snogged him a couple of times at the end of last year, though quickly called it quits after Lysander almost walked in on us making out in the Sixth Year boys dormitory. I got myself out of that particular sticky situation by telling Lysander that James' had stolen my Beaters gloves and I was simply retrieving them.

The fact that I walked out of there empty handed reallyshould have set off some warning bells.

Sometimes having a dimwit for a brother isn't all that bad.

The point of the story is I am not going back there again – not unless I want Lysander to throttle me, in any case.

My brother seems to have a nasty habit of chasing away the guys who are even remotely interested in me.

Like the time when Cal Spangler sent me a rose on Valentines' day in Fourth Year. Lysander and James hung him off the Astronomy Tower by his feet until he swore never to do it again, and then made him sing the theme song to the movie 'Titanic' in front of the entire Great Hall.

Needless to say, Cal hasn't looked me in the eye since.

Or the time when Erroll McCrory asked me on a date beginning of Fifth Year, and I showed up to find him convulsing on the floor with his skin turning an alarming shade of purple, after James and Lysander slipped Venomous Tentacular juice into his water at dinner.

I still shudder when I think about that one.

Or even the time when they charmed Scorpius' hair pink just for dropping my Potions textbook back to the Gryffindor Common Room for me after I had left it in class.

Oh wait, that one was just James.

Anyway, you may be wondering why I'd risk provoking Lysander's wrath by trying to make James fall in love with me.

Simple – it's for the greater good.

Besides, seeing Lysander hex his best mate to Azkaban and back sounds pretty amusing to me.

I sigh shortly as I sneak a quick look at Bash, who is relaying some stupid story to Lysander about Professor Longbottoms latest class.

There are times, every now and then when I really freaking regret the decision to call things off with him. I mean, sure he's known to be an egotistical prat more often than not, and Godric knows how much he relishes in the attention from his dim-witted fan club.

But he's just so pretty to look at.

And he's a really great kisser.

And did I mention that he smells amazing.

"Lyra, I sincerely hope all that time I wasted helping you with your Transfig essay is going to pay off,"

James rudely snaps me out of my daydream and I answer in a carefully measured voice.

"As soon as I'm done with Potions this morning I'll find out, won't I?"

"Ah, Sixth Year Potions… how I don't miss all the girls trying to slip me Amortentia," He comments lightly.

"I'm with you on that one," Bash agrees with him, through a mouthful of food.

I stare at Bash in disgust for a moment before rolling my eyes at James.

"Are you sure it wasn't just Lysander?"

A cherry tomato hits me in the side of the face, courtesy of Lysander.

I blink.

James smiles at me.

For a split second I'm utterly terrified.

"Oh, little Salamander – ever the smartarse,"

"That's why we love her, right Jamesy?" Bash teases, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and squeezing me against him.

This is really not helping, Knox.

"Bash – don't touch me. And you," I say while pointing an accusing finger in James' face, "Really deserve nothing less than my attitude,"

I mentally slap myself as soon as the words leave my mouth.

Why is it so hard to be nice to this guy?

WHY?

James snorts, and fills up a second plate full of food.

"Anyway," I continue lamely, "We're learning the Wiggenwald Potion,"

He raises his eyebrows.

"Tough potion – good luck with that,"

I purse my lips, as I spear a slice of avocado with my fork.

"Oh don't you worry, having Scorpius as a partner practically guarantees me an easy pass. The boy's a potioneering genius."

James lips twist into an unhappy scowl and a small sense of triumph flitters in my stomach.

Usually I would have paired up with Roxy or Pippa, but I've come to realise over the years – what with Potions being my worst subject and all – that it was time to ditch the dull bints and go for gold.

Scorpius doesn't seem to mind my lack of talents. In fact, I think he rather enjoys bossing me around during lessons.

Sadistic prat.

"Why the hell you insist on being 'friends' with that slimy git, I will never know," James comments.

"What do you mean 'friends'?" I demand at once, imitating James' finger quotations. "Besides, I'm friends with you, aren't I? And Merlin knows that you're just as bad as youthink he is."

James scoffs and stabs at a sausage with his fork, "I'd hardly call being forced together since we were toddlers 'friends',"

My mouth drops open.

Oh no he didn't.

"Well, excuse me – I'll just run along to my class now, shall I? Where I can spend my time with Scorpius, my actual friend, instead of a messy-haired Quidditch freak like you!" I shriek at the raven-haired boy before banging my fist down on the table in front of me, startling Roxy who until now was sleeping peacefully across from me, with her face in a plate of food.

Roxy bolts upright, scrambled eggs falling from her hair, and searches for the source of the noise.

"Lyra, come on – I didn't mean it like that," James starts, but it's too late.

"Rox, let's go," I hiss with one last glare at him before grabbing my bag and storming from the Great Hall.

Things are most definitely not going to plan.

**

Half an hour later I'm sitting in Potions, absent-mindedly tapping my fingers against the top of the wooden desk as Professor Virgo goes over the lesson for the day. I prop my chin on my hand and watch as she drawls on – her voice still carrying the soft lilt of an accent.

Valerie Virgo had started her teaching career at Salem's Witches Institute before she moved on to be Hogwarts Potions Teacher. She was young, probably in her early thirties, and often the object of many of the male student's attentions.

Poor lass – I know first had how idiotic the male population of Hogwarts can be.

Clearly, I'm still fuming over what James said to me at breakfast.

How could he say that we weren't friends? I get that our Mums have been best friends since they were at Hogwarts and everything, so it wasn't really our choice that we've been around each other our whole lives.

And why do I even care what he thinks, anyway?

"Earth to Lyra – anyone there?"

Scorpius pokes me in the arm with what looks to be an old, dried up Jafflewart tail.

"Huh?" I reply, rather ungraciously, brushing the Potion ingredient away from me. The Jafflewart, coincidentally, was a tree-dwelling creature that my parents had discovered a few years back on a trip to Ghana.

Scorpius fixes his pale blue eyes on me, his forehead creased in concern.

"What's wrong with you today?"

I dismiss his question with a wave of my hand and mumble, "It's nothing, let's just start this,"

Scorpius eyes me curiously but says nothing as he starts heating the cauldron for us to begin our Potion. I flick through my text book lazily, looking for the recipe. Scorpius has already started adding the first ingredients when I finally locate it. I try to help out by measuring out seven drops of Salamander blood.

Huh, Salamander…

Wait a second!

"Scorp?" I ask sweetly, earning a stare dripping with mistrust from the boy.

"Hmm?"

"You're a boy,"

"Well done, Scamander,"

"So," I begin, dropping the Salamander blood into the cauldron and pulling a sprig of mint from a small vial, "If I were to ask you how to get a guy's attention, what would you advise?"

Scorpius stops staring the cauldron and stares at me pointedly.

"Oh Merlin, don't tell me you're thinking of shacking up with Knox again?"

"Shhhh!" I whisper furiously, covering Scorpius' mouth with my hand to stop him from continuing, "I told you that in confidence! And no, that's not what I'm thinking,"

Scorpius wrestles my hand away from his face and eyes me like I've gone mad.

"Is this why you're acting even weirder then usual today? You've fallen for some bloke?"

"Er, something like that," I answer, before flailing my arms impatiently, "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Well, let me think about it. Are you gonna tell me who the lad is, at least?"

"No chance in hell,"

Scorpius thinks it over for a second, scratching his chin in thought.

"All I can tell you is you have to catch his eye – look the part,"

I gesture to myself,

"What about this doesn't look the part?"

Scorpius shrugs his shoulders half-heartedly, "Well,"

I smack him with a ladle, and he protests loudly.

"Jeez, you're so shallow, Scorp… what are you looking at over there?"

I follow Scorpius' eye-line to the table where Rose Weasley and Katherine Finnigan are working together on their potion, and my eyebrows furrow.

"Nothing," Scorpius answers quickly, before going back to stirring the cauldron.

I shake my head, amused. "You're a strange one, Mr Malfoy,"

"You love it,"

After Potions I have Transfiguration, where I manage a pass for my essay (You're good for something, at least, James Potter!) much to Professor Haggle's bewilderment. Then, it's double Care of Magical Creatures with Professor Furr, where I almost had my entire hair singed off by a rogue Fire Crab, and Albus lost part of an eyebrow, and lastly History of Magic, which I mostly slept through, much to the delight of Louis, who rubbed Weasley's Fake Moustache lotion on my face and I woke up to a face full of fur.

Thankfully, a quick Hair Removal spell and a whack over the head for Louis soon cured it.

After classes, I was lazing around in our dormitory with Pippa and Roxy, lying on my bed and throwing my gloves in the air above me before catching them as they fell down, making up Quidditch plays in my head that I would enforce when I'm Captain, as the other two chattered in the background.

It wasn't long before the door swung open, and in walked Rose Weasley and Katherine Finnigan, the other two members of our happy little dorm room.

"Hey Rosie, Kit," Roxy greets them, and I glance at them briefly before the thought strikes me.

"Rosie, you know James!" I exclaim, bolting upright on my bed and tossing my gloves onto the floor.

Rose wrinkles her freckled nose as she thinks, and twirls a strand of fiery red hair around her finger.

"James who?"

"James Potter! Your cousin, you dolt,"

"Oh, him,"

I roll my eyes at her before continuing.

"Okay, so say someone was trying to get his attention… romantically speaking,"

Rose raises her fair eyebrows questioningly before something clicks in her head, and her mouth drops.

"Sweet Merlins left spotty sock – youfancy James?"

"Left spotty wha-? Wait, no! No I do not fancy James Potter," I answer quickly, ignoring Roxy and Pippa's giggles coming from either side of me.

"But you just said-"

"I know what I said, Rose!" I interrupt her in exasperation, flailing my arms in the air to demonstrate my impatience, "Look, Weasley, I'll spare you the details. I need answers. Stat."

Rose shrugs her slim shoulders.

"Easy – just flatter his ego,"

Like I didn't already think of that.

There's a soft knock on the door, and Kit pulls it open quickly, before glancing at me through eyes the colour of amber.

"Um, Lyra? It's for you,"

I puzzle over who it could be for a second, before tip-toeing to the door and noticing the tall boy with messy, black hair that stands in front of me, his broomstick held in one hand and his expression solemn

"Hey," James offers as greeting as he runs a hand through his dark hair, "Can I talk to you?"

I look back on the four pairs of curious eyes sending me knowing grins, before I step out into the hallway and close the door behind me with a soft click.

"What do you want?" I ask abruptly, folding my arms in front of my chest.

James pushes the sleeves of his white uniform shirt up, and eyes me warily, "Look, Lyra, I know that things have been hectic lately – the Slytherin game is next week and I guess that I haven't been handling the pressure of that as well as I should,"

I purse my lips tight.

"You're right about that one,"

He grins sheepishly, dragging his foot on the wooden floor, and for a moment I soften.

Why does he have to look so good while I'm trying to be mad at him!

Wait, what?

I shake the thought from my mind and cross my arms across my chest tighter.

"What I really wanted to say is that I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Ly. It's not true."

My eyes widen in surprise and I let my lips curve upwards.

"Did you just apologise to me, James Sirius Potter?"

James chuckles and pushes my arm playfully, and I can't help but smile back at him.

"You know how much I hate it when you use my full name, Lyra Pandora Scamander."

"Touché,"

"So," James starts, holding his arms out, "Can we be friends?"

I roll my eyes before the calculations work themselves out in my head.

Friends = one step closer to being Captain.

I let myself fall into his hug.

Godric, has he always had all these muscles?

"Yeah, I guess we can,"

Operation: Make James Potter Fall in Love with Me.

Day One: Making small progress.

A/N:Hey guys! Again I'm sorry if anything seems out of place, I'm pretty new to writing next-gen so still getting the hang of it! Please let me know what you think of this story by reviewing! I'm going to try and carry on with it, but I'd like to see how much interest it has so far. Thanks for reading :)