Hi there and thanks to Anduskainen and DemiGoddess2012 for favoriting, just-nikki (I know you in real life!), bubblezgirly1515, JamesFreakingPotter, and Nydevon for following, natalie1668 and mayarox95 for the favorites and follows, and Artsynerd9067 for following and an enthusiastic review! Glad you're enjoying the story. Also thanks to JustTrippin and stefanie437 for their reviews!

Now, for some questions…

stefanie437 asked about the Prewett relationships: Molly Weasley was a Prewett and sister to Fabian and Gideon. From the information I could find, Alice Longbottom was also said to be a Prewett, but there is conflict about whether or not that's true. Were Alice and Molly sisters? No idea (probably not, really). But I'd already decided that I wanted Alice in the fic, and I also like my more centric characters to be ones JKR has mentioned, so that's how I decided on Fabian and Gideon. During this very unsure and dangerous time, I wanted to add the dynamic of a healthy sibling relationship. James is an only child, Lily and Petunia aren't close emotionally or geographically, and Sirius has severed ties with his family. So the relationship between Alice and her brothers will be important, even if it's not canon.

The reason that Molly isn't in the fic is because I'm fairly certain she wasn't in school during the Marauders Era. She didn't fight in the first Wizarding War, which is implied in OoTP ("The Woes of Mrs. Weasley") when Lupin says, "You weren't in the Order then." So we can assume she wasn't in their age group, at the very least.

Artsynerd9067 asked for more of Snape's POV on the growing Lily/James relationship. No worries! I've got definite plans for this. It's going to be included throughout the fic, and you'll be seeing a major bit of it in a few chapters (and I really like how Snape's inner monologue panned out when I was drafting it). But yes, fear not, because the Snape/Lily relationship is a big deal and I will not skimp on it. Scout's honor.

All right, so that went on for about a page in Word, and this chapter is long enough as it is. So thanks for sticking with me, and here's Chapter 7!

-K.


Saturday, 9:28 A.M.

"You can't eat that."

James looked up from his breakfast, which consisted of an amount of starch that only a sixteen-year-old boy could handle. "What?" he asked through a mouthful of bacon, sausage, and hash browns.

Sirius made a face. "You're going to vomit all over the pitch."

"From thirty feet in the air," Peter added, wrinkling his nose when James stuck his tongue out at them and showed off his half-chewed food.

"You should try talking to Lily while you're eating, Prongs," Remus suggested dryly, not looking up from his copy of the Daily Prophet. "That'll be the way to her heart."

James shut his mouth immediately, swallowed, and looked around to see if Lily was in the vicinity. She was sitting a ways down the table, talking to Alice and Marlene, so he figured he was safe.

"You sure know how to get him to behave," Sirius said appreciatively to Remus, who acknowledged the compliment with a modest shrug. Sirius looked back at James. "Evans has got you twisted around her finger and she doesn't even know it."

"Wait 'til she agrees to go out with him and all that charm will fly out the window," Peter said.

James threw an orange at him.

"Sheesh, take a joke, will you?"

"He's just mad because he knows she'll never agree to it," Sirius said. James said nothing, which Sirius thought was odd since James always argued that point. He furrowed his brow, wondering what his friend could be hiding; but Sirius was never one to perpetually wonder in silence, so he said, "Something you're not telling us, Prongs?"

James shrugged, keeping his eyes on his plate. Sirius picked up the orange that had hit Peter in the chest and threw it back at James, who caught it.

"Damn your reflexes," Sirius cursed.

"I reckon I was a cat in a former life."

"Don't change the subject," Sirius ordered. James wasn't going to get out of this that easily. "What do you know that we don't? Come on, spit it out."

"Nothing, it's stupid," James said, finally looking up at his friends. Sirius had his arms folded across his chest, Peter looked confused, and Remus put down his Prophet and quirked an inquisitive brow.

James sighed. "She came to see me last night. Evans, that is. In detention."

And he recounted their conversation, one that he'd been happily replaying in his head since she'd left him in the dungeons the night before.

When he was finished, Sirius whistled, and Peter and Remus were grinning.

"You think it's good, then?" James asked, hoping what he had been trying hard not to hope, just in case.

"I think it's promising," Remus said, "so long as you don't eat anything in front of her."

James returned his friends' smiles. That was good enough for him.

Feeling lighter than when he'd woken up that morning, James left the other Marauders to head down to the Quidditch pitch. He passed by Lily and gave in to the temptation to squeeze her shoulder as he did so; she turned in his direction and offered him a small smile and a wink.

Oh, yes, James thought as he exited the Great Hall. That was most definitely good enough.


Snape watched James Potter leave the hall.

More specifically, Snape watched James Potter leave his seat at the Gryffindor table. He watched him walk past Lily Evans. He watched him touch Lily Evans. And he watched Lily Evans do absolutely nothing about it.

When had that happened? he wondered, frowning. Since when did Lily Evans let James Potter get away with touching her? She was supposed to hate him, so since when did she act like she didn't anymore? Since when had she started smiling at him?

Snape shook his head, trying to rid himself of all those since when?s. They wouldn't do him any good; it wasn't as if he didn't loathe James Potter enough already, and if there was ever a time that Lily Evans didn't care what he thought, it was now.

But he still thought about it, anyway.

"Should we head down to the pitch, d'you think?" asked Regulus Black, who was sitting beside him, jarring him out of his reverie.

Snape looked up to see that the hall was slowly emptying around them. "Yeah," he said, rising from his seat. He wasn't really in the mood for Quidditch, but he knew his fellow Slytherins would be suspicious if he skipped out. "Let's go."


9:50 A.M.

It was the first Quidditch match of the season, and conditions were good. It was a breezy October morning, slightly overcast, and the ground was bone-dry from a lack of rain (good for kick-off, bad in the event that someone fell off their broom, James thought, but he'd take his chances).

It was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. James was familiar with the team; Amos Diggory – captain, Keeper, and resident Head Boy – had done a fair job with his recruits. His Chasers were agile, his Beaters broad, and his Seeker quick. Diggory had followed Quidditch protocol, but James was confident enough in his own team.

He watched them as they laced up boots and tugged on gloves in the locker room. Frank Longbottom and Cam Bradley were his fellow Chasers, and he'd be sorry to see them go once their seventh year was over in June; the same went for his Keeper, Joyce Gibbins. But Beaters Sarah Blake and Oliver Tipton, as well as Seeker Raiff Okerley, would be on the team well after James left, so he knew he'd be leaving Gryffindor in the right hands when the time came.

But he couldn't concentrate on that now, James knew. He had to focus, he had to prepare, he had to pep talk. He didn't have time to think about next year or the year after or the fact that maybe he shouldn't have eaten all that junk for breakfast or the way Evans had winked at him when he'd passed by her…

No. James shook his head forcefully. Definitely didn't have time to think about that. Get distracted by Lily Evans and you'd practically be begging for a Bludger to the head.

"All right," James said, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind to be explored again later. "Ready?"

"And raring," Frank said with a grin.

"Hear, hear," Sarah added, and Oliver pounded his broomstick enthusiastically against the floor.

"Brilliant." James snapped his goggles over his head and led his team out of the locker room.

As soon as they stepped onto the pitch, the Gryffindor team was met with raucous cheers from the end of the crowd that was a solid wall of scarlet and gold. Meanwhile, the black-and-yellow clad Hufflepuffs were applauding as their own team approached.

"Captains, shake hands," ordered Madam Hooch as the teams met at the halfway point. James and Amos shook and the players mounted their broomsticks.

"On my whistle, then," Madam Hooch said. "Three, two, one –"

They were off, fourteen blurs of yellow and red, speeding towards their positions, chasing the Quaffle and dodging the Bludgers and keeping an eye out for the Snitch.

"And they're off," said the booming voice of seventh-year Bertha Jorkins, who was commentating. "Bradley's got the Quaffle, Cam Bradley of Gryffindor. She passes to Longbottom and – rather nice swerve around Davidson there – now the Quaffle to James Potter, captain of Gryffindor."

James ducked around another Hufflepuff Chaser, rolling his eyes at Bertha's commentary. She was always so superfluous with the details; then again, listening to herself talk was just something Bertha Jorkins liked to do.

"The Gryffindor Chasers are a tight group," Bertha observed. "Makes you wonder what Potter's going to do without Longbottom and Bradley next year. Of course, he could easily recruit his friends. Maybe next year we'll get to see if Sirius Black or Phillip Pettigrew are any good at sport."

"Peter!" Peter shouted over the laughter of the crowd around him. "It's Peter, you daft cow!"

Bertha, however, was back to commentating on the match, and didn't bother to correct her mistake.

"That's a goal for Gryffindor," she said, a few seconds late since she'd been drawling on about next year when James skirted around Diggory and sunk the Quaffle.

The Gryffindors cheered, their euphoria overpowering the sound of the Hufflepuffs' groans. James and Frank high-fived each other as they flew back across the pitch.

"And it's Ruckers with the Quaffle now, Annie Ruckers of Hufflepuff," Bertha said. "I share a dormitory with Annie, you know, she's quite the bathroom hog – no need for rude hand gestures, Annie. That little display just cost you possession, and now the Quaffle's back to Bradley."

Sarah knocked an oncoming Bludger out of Cam's path, but she couldn't stop the oncoming Charlie Davidson of Hufflepuff, so Cam shot the Quaffle back to James, who was flying a few feet beneath her.

"Potter with the Quaffle again," came Bertha's magnified voice. "We all know where this is going, since Potter's much too self-indulgent to ever miss a shot –"

"Concentrate on the match, you hag!" James called out as he sped past the commentator's booth.

Bertha frowned. "Chasers, it seems, are quite aggressive players…"

But the rest of her commentary was drowned out as the Gryffindors exploded, James having made another goal.

"Don't make me give you detention, Potter!" Amos yelled from his position at the goal posts.

"Is that the best you've got?" James laughed. "Come off it, Diggory."

The match continued. Bertha commentated on unnecessary aspects as both Davidson and Ruckers managed to get around Joyce and evened up the score. Cam sunk a goal not long afterwards, putting Gryffindor back in the lead, albeit a slim one.

Despite the noise that was shaking the stands around him, Sirius's mind wasn't all in the match. He was looking across the rows of people to his far left, where he saw his brother Regulus. They saw each other every now and then, at meals and passing in the corridors, but they never exchanged so much as a look because Regulus was usually alone and Sirius didn't want to encourage his brother to start a conversation. But today Regulus wasn't alone, and Sirius was immediately put on-guard when he saw his company.

This time, when Sirius saw his brother, he was staring – fuming, and staring, and wondering what the ever-living hell Snape was up to.

"What's up, Padfoot?" Peter asked, noticing that not even a congratulatory cheer had escaped his friend's lips when Gryffindor took the lead again.

Sirius nodded in the direction of the Slytherins. "That," he said, scowling, "is what's up."

Remus followed Sirius's gaze and frowned at what he saw. "That's probably not good, is it?"

"Nope," Sirius said, but he tore his eyes away nonetheless. There was nothing he could do about it now, and he figured his temper might diffuse a little if he channeled it into the match. He'd take care of his brother later. "Hell, I wish Jorkins would just shut up…"

"She's the commentator," Peter reminded him.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Phillip."

Back in the air, the score was tied again, this time at forty-forty, and the game was heating up. Oliver was harboring a bloody nose from a Bludger he hadn't managed to best; Raiff was getting increasingly frustrated with the Hufflepuff's Seeker, who had been tailing him since kick-off; and James had found himself getting distracted again.

Lily Evans sure had a talent for whistling.

Get a grip, Potter, he commanded himself and accelerated his broomstick. Raiff needed to catch the Snitch before A.) Oliver lost too much blood, B.) Raiff himself killed his Hufflepuff opponent out of pure annoyance, or C.) James did something stupid because he wasn't paying enough attention.

And look, there's a Bludger. James dodged it just in time. See, Potter, keep it together now…

He flew past Raiff and shouted, "Keep your hair on!"

"I'm going to catch the Snitch and shove it down his throat," Raiff growled, glancing behind him at his for-all-intents-and-purposes stalker.

James wanted to laugh but resisted, knowing that would be all the encouragement Raiff needed to do precisely what he'd threatened. He did, however, look behind him to see if the other Seeker had heard. He was only off his guard for a second, but it was enough.

The crowd gasped and Bertha – sounding rather pleased that something unpleasant had happened – said, "Ooh, and that's a Bludger to James Potter's shoulder. Don't know how he's going to keep sinking goals now."

"Lily. Lily," Marlene said to her friend down in the stands. "Stop clutching at your face, I can see your fingernail marks in your skin."

"What? Oh." Lily dropped her hands, not realizing what she'd been doing.

Alice rubbed Lily's arm reassuringly. "He'll be fine," she said, following Lily's gaze. "He's always fine. Just relax."

Lily frowned slightly. She knew Alice was right, but even from this distance, she could see that the damage to James's shoulder was nothing to relax about. But she was being ridiculous, she knew, because James Potter had sustained much worse injuries, on and off the Quidditch pitch.

And she better watch her reactions to him more carefully, unless she wanted Alice and Marlene to start teasing her about broom cupboards again.

"All right there, James?" Cam shouted as the game continued. "Should we call a time-out?"

"No, let's just finish this up!" James shouted back. He felt his shoulder throb painfully but he didn't think the damage was too bad; nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix up with a wave of her wand. "You hear that, Raiff?" he shouted to his passing Seeker.

"Get the Snitch!" Raiff confirmed. "No shit."

"Gryffindor and Hufflepuff still tied at forty-forty," Bertha informed the crowd. "Longbottom has possession. Ducks a Bludger – you see that, Potter? Better take notes."

"Put your wand away, Padfoot," Remus said down in the stands, but he shot the commentator's booth a dirty look nonetheless.

Unaware of the Gryffindors' annoyance, Bertha continued. "Now it's Bradley with the Quaffle, quick pass to Potter, who catches with his injured arm and – oooh, now it's Ruckers in possession. Bad luck, Gryffindor."

James scowled and accelerated his broom. They needed the Snitch and he needed the hospital wing.

"Ruckers is on her way to the goal posts now," Bertha said, "and Gibbins is readying herself now, and – wait, what's that? Okerley's going into a dive, he's seen the Snitch!"

James turned on his broom to watch as Raiff pulled into a steep dive towards the ground, the Hufflepuff Seeker on his tail. The dive was too steep, really, James thought, and personally he couldn't see the Snitch at all…

Raiff pulled out of the dive just in time, but the Hufflepuff wasn't so lucky. He tried to brake at the very last second, and instead crashed into the hard-packed earth with a resounding crunch. But the Hufflepuffs' groans of disapproval were suddenly drowned out by the cheers and shouts from the Gryffindor end…

"Okerley's got the Snitch!" Bertha shouted, unable to believe it.

And indeed, Raiff was sitting astride his broom, his fist clenched over the tiny golden ball, its silver wings struggling to escape his grasp.

He looked at James. "I had it about two seconds before the dive!" he called. "But I had to make sure that that git down there –" he motioned to the ground where the offending Seeker was laying, clutching his nose – "wouldn't tail me again."


7:00 P.M.

The Gryffindors skipped dinner that night, choosing instead to remain in their common room for the party the Marauders had thrown together to celebrate the Quidditch team's first win of the season.

It was still early, but the festivities were in full swing. Madam Pomfrey had healed James's shoulder hours earlier, and he and his fellow Marauders had donned the Invisibility Cloak and snuck into Hogsmeade for supplies.

"I can't believe Rosmerta just gave you the firewhiskey," Peter said for the third time, shaking his head as James popped a bottle of the stuff open.

James shrugged and Sirius said, "I reckon she fancies me."

"She's too old for you," Remus reminded him. He'd been reminding Sirius of the same thing for the past three years, but it never seemed to stick.

James laughed and took a swig of firewhiskey. It was warm and tangy and burned a little on the way down his throat, but he figured he'd earned it after that morning's match. Two goals, Bertha Jorkins, a Bludger to the shoulder, and an unmanageable Seeker, and… The firewhiskey bottle was pulled out of his hand.

Confused, James looked around to see Lily Evans standing next to his chair, her eyebrows raised and the bottle dangling between her fingertips.

"Wah… wah… waaaaah," Remus chanted ominously.

"Thank you for that, Remus," Lily said, her eyes still on James. "Potter, you can't bring this in here."

"Hate to break it to you, Evans, but he already did," Sirius informed her.

"Yeah, what's the big deal?" James wanted to know.

"The big deal," Lily said, "is that there are first years here. Do you know how old first years are, Potter? Eleven," she went on before he could respond.

"Give me a chance to answer, why don't you?" James said, making a grab for the bottle. Lily held it a little higher, out of his reach while he was sitting down. "Come on, Evans, I'm not eleven."

Lily sighed. She supposed, as long as none of the younger kids got a hold of them… "How many bottles are there?"

"About a dozen," Remus told her, and he lifted the bag that was sitting at his feet, "and they're all right here. I swear we won't let them out of our sight."

Sirius lifted his own bottle in a sort of toast. "Solemnly swear."

"Well… all right, then," Lily said. She wasn't terribly hesitant about it, not as long as Remus was in charge of the bottles. So she took a swig out of the one that was in her hand and said, "We're awful prefects, Remus."

He smiled. "Don't I know it."

Before Lily could say anything else, Marlene rushed up to her and grabbed her hand. "Lily, we need you for a moment, darling," she said, flashing an apologetic grin around at the Marauders. Then she spotted the bottle in Lily's hand. "What is that, firewhiskey?"

"Stolen firewhiskey," James corrected, making another grab for it but Lily brought the bottle back to her lips so he couldn't reach. Besides, Lily had always been rather partial to the taste (although she'd sooner pass the bottle to a first year than admit that to James Potter).

Marlene ignored him and snapped her fingers at Remus. "Hey, Lupin, pass one of those over here, huh?"

"You needed something, Mar?" Lily reminded her friend.

"Right." Marlene took a long draw from the bottle Remus had given her. "Alice needs us. Come on."

As Marlene dragged Lily away, James called out, "Oy! Evans! Firewhiskey!"

Lily shot him a grin over her shoulder. "Sorry, Potter, it's been confiscated."

James turned back around in his seat, unable to help the small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His friends rolled their eyes at him but couldn't help their smiles, either.

"Good thing you're mates now," Peter said, "or you'd be in a right spot of trouble with her."

"Oh, I don't know, Wormtail," Remus said with a one-shouldered shrug. "Lily's always been a lot more laid-back than you all think; it's just that James was always winding her up."

"Bet he's winding her up now, too," Sirius said with a roguish grin.

James scowled at him. "Don't be an ass."

"Said James Potter." Sirius rolled his eyes, still grinning, and tossed his friend a new bottle of firewhiskey.


"Frank asked me out."

Lily had followed Marlene to the other side of the common room, where Alice was leaning against the wall for support, looking simultaneously radiant and like someone had just smacked her upside the head with a blunt object.

"Really?" Lily's face split into a smile. Finally. "When?"

"About five minutes ago," Alice said, returning Lily's smile but still looking terribly nervous. "We were talking about the match, you know, and I asked him how James's shoulder was and he said it was fine and then he just… Well, he sort of shouted it at me, to be honest."

Lily and Marlene laughed, and Alice – despite her shaken nerves – couldn't help but join them.

"Are you going to tell your brothers?" Marlene wanted to know. "Or can I do it? Oh, please, Alice, let me tell them that you've got a date."

Alice shook her head. "Nice try, Mar. But they'll find out themselves on Halloween, when Frank skips Hogsmeade with them to go with me."

"Halloween?" Marlene repeated, then looked at Lily. "You'll be on your own, then; I'm going with Benjy."

Lily shrugged. She didn't mind going to Hogsmeade alone, or not going at all. She was just glad that Alice and Frank had gotten over their he-doesn't-like-me-she-doesn't-like-me paranoia.

"Or," Marlene went on, and Lily didn't like her suddenly singsong tone, "you could go with James –"

"No." Lily took another drink of firewhiskey.

Marlene cocked an eyebrow, watching her friend guzzle down the alcohol. "You know his mouth was on that, don't you?"

Lily nearly spit out the liquid she'd just drunk, torn between amusement and disbelief at how immature Marlene's remark was. "What are you, twelve?"

"You're worse than Alice, you know that?"

"Hey," Alice protested, but her friends weren't listening.

"Why?" Lily asked. "What's so wrong with me not wanting to go to Hogsmeade with James?"

"Come on, Lil," Marlene said. "You two have made the leap from one-sided affection to friendship pretty quickly, and you've done it so well that it's like you never hated him at all."

Lily didn't quite see Marlene's point. "So?"

"So…" Marlene sighed impatiently, blowing some of her hair out of her face. "I mean, can you say 'unresolved sexual tension,' or what?"

Definitely amused now, Lily had to laugh at that. Marlene wasn't making any sense at all, and there wasn't any tension between her and James anymore, let alone sexual. The thought of that made her a little uncomfortable, sure, but she couldn't say why. Not that it mattered, she told herself, because Marlene was just being her usual overreacting self.

There was nothing going on between her and Potter.

Lily drained half the bottle of firewhiskey.

Nothing at all.


9:43 P.M.

After nearly three hours of celebrating, most of the Gryffindors had made their way up to bed; they had to prepare themselves for tomorrow, when they'd be forced to tackle all the homework they'd neglected in the excitement of the year's first Quidditch match.

Lily and Marlene sat near the fire, which was dwindling down now. They were passing the last bottle of firewhiskey (which they'd nicked earlier when the Marauders were setting off Filibuster's fireworks and not paying attention to their stash) back and forth.

Alice had gone upstairs about half an hour ago, and they were giving her time alone to process what had happened with Frank before they followed her. They weren't talking much, having exhausted most topics of conversation and being generally exhausted themselves.

The Marauders were in a similar situation; Peter and Remus had retired to their dormitory, Sirius was staring out one of the common room windows, and James, tired of staring out at the grounds with him but not ready to go up to bed yet, walked over to the couch where Lily was sitting.

He slid himself over the arm of the couch on his back, scooting backwards until he was lying down with his head in Lily's lap. He grinned up at her, his head swimming slightly from the firewhiskey he'd been drinking all night, and said, "Hello, beautiful."

Lily looked down at him and lifted an eyebrow. "Who says that to someone when they're looking up their nose?"

"I like your nose," James said, tweaking it. Lily slapped his hand away.

"Gross," Marlene said from her seat in the armchair next to them.

James tilted his head back so he was looking at her upside-down. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing…" Marlene took a final draw from the bottle before handing it to Lily. "I think we've given Alice enough time to pretend she's asleep, so I'm off to bed." She got up and ruffled Lily's hair as she walked behind the couch. "See you in the A.M."

When she was out of earshot, James looked up at Lily again. "What's gross?" he asked, too foggy-headed to make out what Marlene had been talking about.

"Nothing, just like she said," Lily fibbed, just as foggy-headed but knowing precisely what her friend meant. She sipped at what was left in the bottle, her fingers absentmindedly playing with James Potter's hair. He was always rumpling it himself so she didn't see the harm in doing it, too.

James closed his eyes, reveling in the way Lily's fingers felt running through his hair. He never thought he'd be here like this; sure, he'd fantasized about it, but some lingering hint of it's-never-gonna-happen had always tainted those fantasies, that hope. Even though they were only friends, he was still so much more with her now, whatever that meant. At any rate, he knew what he was thinking, and that was enough for him.

"Go out with me, Evans," he said quietly, his eyes still closed as her fingers continued to move through his hair.

"I'd still rather date the giant squid," Lily deadpanned, even though her heart had skipped a beat and her fingers didn't stop their caress. That didn't mean James Potter had to know that the giant squid was looking less and less appealing.

"Go on, give me a shot," James encouraged, not deterred in the least. "I swear I'll surprise you."

Of course he would. Hadn't she thought the same thing just last night? But still… "I don't much like surprises. I'm very jumpy."

James laughed and opened his eyes. "Jumpy, huh?" he said, considering the possibilities. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, James's fingers were at Lily's waist, dancing lightly over her shirt, and her fingers stopped running through his hair. She was laughing too hard to concentrate on anything except how to make him stop tickling her.

"I – I said jumpy," Lily said breathlessly, trying in vain to smack his searching hands away.

"Looks like you're ticklish, too." He loved that he got to touch her, even if she couldn't take him seriously because she was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe.

"Oh, James, stop," she begged, tears of mirth filling her eyes. She tried to ignore how much she liked the way his hands felt on her.

"Sorry, can't hear you over how hard you're laughing," James said.

But right then Lily managed to get a grip on his wrists and he pulled away, only so she could get a grip on them again, and the two of them became such an uncoordinated tangle of limbs that they rolled right off the couch and onto the floor with a loud thump.

Lily landed on top of James, and he was looking up at her and she was looking down at him and their hands were clutched together and they could feel their heartbeats pounding against each other and Lily felt her face flush uncomfortably and James tried to swallow his nerves but he just couldn't manage it…

"Well, erm… I have to go," Lily said suddenly, her voice breaking through what must have been the tension Marlene had mentioned earlier. She resolved then and there that she wouldn't tell Marlene a damn thing.

"Go?" James echoed, his heart dropping, disappointed, to settle somewhere in his stomach.

Lily untangled her fingers from his and scrambled up. She needed space, room to breathe air that didn't smell so strongly of James Potter. "Right," she said, "go. I have to go. To bed."

"Right." James stayed where he was, back against the rough carpet of the common room floor, looking up at her as she avoided looking at him. "Bed. So I'll… I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow." Lily nodded and started towards the staircase to the girls' dormitory. "So. 'Night."

"'Night."

And she was gone.

James stared up at the ceiling now. He released one long, measured breath, trying to return his heart rate to normal. He didn't see that happening anytime soon, though, not after having Lily Evans on top of him, not after having his hands all over her.

Get a grip, Potter, he told himself for the second or third or perhaps it was hundredth time that day. So he pushed himself up off the floor and looked across the common room to see if Sirius was still awake, anything to distract him from going up to bed and succumbing to Evans-induced insomnia.

Lucky for him, Sirius was still in the same chair James had left him in almost half an hour ago. He was still staring out the window, oblivious to what had happened. James was sure of this, as Sirius hadn't made one scathing or sarcastic or suggestive comment while it was going on.

Come to think of it, Sirius was acting a bit odd…

James approached him, not quite sure how to handle this or if he should; he knew what Sirius could be like, and sometimes he had to work it out for himself. Not because it was necessary, but because he insisted upon it.

"You going to bed?" James asked when he reached his vacant-eyed friend.

Sirius shook his head, eyes still staring blankly out at the grounds. "No," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Prongs."

James wondered where his friend's head was at, but he knew better than to ask when Sirius was in one of his moods, which seemed to be the case. So he said simply, "All right, mate. You let me know if you need anything."

Sirius nodded this time. James frowned slightly, but knew that this was the best he was going to get out of Sirius for now. Best to let him deal with it in his own time, and he'd come around to the rest of the Marauders when he was ready. So with that thought to comfort him, James climbed the stairs to his four-poster, his head reeling with the events of that evening…

Firewhiskey and Lily Evans were quite the combination.

He hoped Sirius was okay.

And what the devil was going to happen next?


A/N: And nooooow I know why JKR always said the Quidditch scenes were the hardest to write. But I hope I did well enough that you enjoyed this one. Next couple of chapters will probably be more war-centric and on the shorter side; this one took a lot out of me (in a more or less good way, but still).

Until next time, then, lovelies… -K.