DISCLAIMER: Only the plot is mine :(

DEDICATION: I would like to dedicate this chapter to juliaSwan, who sent me the most gorgeous reviews and inboxes that I have ever gotten, and for that I'd like to thank her :)

A/N: Here is the longest chapter that I've written so far, at almost 6000 words :O Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has favourited this story, taken time to review it, and added it to their story alerts. And even bigger thankyou goes out to all of you whom have added me to your favourite authors - it's for you guys that I'm still writing. Also, for those of you who have read Call Me Draco, that fanfiction is currently taking the back seat until I have completed Taking Chances, as I prefer this one by far :) I promise to keep updating it, but updates will be slow, as most of my time goes to TC. On a different note; some of the chapters have been proof-read again, and mistakes have been found, so I have now corrected the majority of those. Keep those R&Rs rolling in guys! :)

It's time for all secrets to be revealed!

"Can we bring yesterday back around, 'cause I know how I feel about you now. I was dumb, I was wrong, I let you down, but I know how I feel about you now. " - Sugababes

Chapter Nine: About You Now

Somewhere high in the castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a sudden ringing of bells made four boys awake with a start, their eyes snapping open and their heads hurting from the screeching noise. Two of these boys, both of which were laid in their large, wooden four-poster beds, wrapped up warm in their thick hippogriff feather duvets and their smooth wool blankets, turned over with monotonous grunts, mirroring the other's actions further by sticking their heads under their soft pillows in a useless attempt to drown out the horrendous sound. The other two sat up in their beds - beds alike those of the first boys - knowing the impossibility of sleeping through such a racket. One of these boys, a boy with light brown hair that stuck up slightly from his slumber, swung his legs out of the warmth and onto the freezing flagstones of the Gryffindor Boys' Dormitory. He moved, wearing nothing but drawstring maroon pyjama bottoms, his torso marked with pale scratches that seemed to be slowly healing, towards the window, opening it with a tug before searching for the source of the noise. The other boy remained sat up in bed, eyes wide despite the fact that it was no later than six in the morning, not making any attempt to move, his mousy hair flopping over his chubby face. Peter Pettigrew merely stared at Remus Lupin, who silenced the tiny alarm clock that was running all around the room with a swish of the wand that he had pulled from his beside table just moments earlier.

The cool, crisp air swam in through the large glass windows, trickling around the already chilly room and trying desperately to infiltrate the warmth that lay under the red covers, eager to claim every inch of the dormitory as its own. Remus, as though not feeling the cold, headed in the direction of the two sleeping boys, their figures both trying to embed themselves into the mattresses, in hope that they would never have to leave the heat. Of course, Remus had other plans. With a flick of his wand, the pillows flew off the two boys' heads, dropping instead to the floor beside their beds with barely a whisper of sound, causing both of them to groan yet again, the longer haired of the two even pulling his duvet up over his head instead, not realising that his feet were now completely uncovered, or perhaps he just didn't care. Remus sighed and Peter began to pull himself out of bed, changing into his robes quietly. Realising that further action was necessary, Remus walked over to the huge oak door of their room and, with a loud slam that caused the boy whose head was covered to jump up, he threw the door closed, afterwards heading back towards the beds and dropping himself down on the barely visible form of the last remaining boy. "Out of bed, Quidditch day! That means you, James," Remus shouted, adding the last sentence in a slightly softer tone to the boy upon which he was currently seated, but James Potter barely stirred, possibly because he had a tall seventeen year old boy on top of him. "Sirius, up."

Sirius Black, the shaggy haired boy who had jumped at the loud bang, moaned words under his breath that none of the boys could make out, rolling his eyes and flopping backwards onto his mattress once more, to which Remus only kicked him in the side, removing himself from James. As he was now completely dressed, Peter dropped down onto the end of James' bed cautiously, careful not to put any part of his body on James' feet. "But Remuuuuuuuuuus," Sirius whined, turning his head to look up at the boy above him, "the match doesn't start for another hour. Let me stay in bed for an iddy biddy bit longer?" He pouted, fluttering his widened eyes that reminded Remus of a lost puppy dog. Shaking his head, Remus lifted both of the boys' covers off, dropping them on top of the pillows, for James still hadn't made any sign that he was actually breathing, let alone waking. "Actually, it starts in half an hour, and James is supposed to be down there in fifteen minutes," Remus stated, matter of factly. Looking at the scruffy-haired boy in question, Remus noticed his sentence had had the desired effect. There, in his bed, was James, sat up straight, eyes wide as they searched for the clock in their large room. His tanned bare torso immediately became covered in tiny goosebumps as his duvet dropped, showing his muscled chest to the rest of his friends. "I'm not going," he murmured, turning to the side so that his face was away from the boys. Every single mouth in the room dropped, all eyes widened, and even Sirius awoke fully as he heard the words slip from his best friend's lips. James Potter, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was not going?! That was impossible, ridiculous even!

After the initial shock of the exclamation, Sirius started laughing loudly. Raucous sounds, the laughter filled the room up completely as he held his sides tight, trying to stop them from stinging as his laughs grew harder and harder. "Not...going?" Sirius said, between laughs, another round of guffaws starting in his lungs as he repeated the sentence that James had stated just moments before. "Mate, that's a good one, nearly had me for a second," he continued, rolling off of his bed and onto the waiting duvet that cushioned his fall, an almost proud smile on his face as though he was expecting to be awarded for such a feat or, as he put it, 'skills'. He let out a loud sigh as an after affect of all the laughing, still shaking, his grey eyes welling up, and began to crawl along the floor towards the huge trunk that was positioned at the end of his bed. Yes, crawl - Sirius wasn't the most sane person in the whole of Hogwarts, and possibly the least mature. James turned around, his eyes dark and distant, a look of almost disappointment in them as they settled on the top of Sirius' head, who looked back up at him, grinning. James was not grinning. If anything, he was grimacing, and the smile quickly dropped off Sirius' face. "I'm serious," James tried again, dropping his eyes in shame at what he was saying – there was no way that they would win the Quidditch Cup without him, their Captain and Chaser. He was by far the best player on the team, and no one compared to him, in fact, he was possibly even the best player in the whole school.

Again, Sirius began laughing. "No, no, no! How many times are you gonna do this, James?" He winked at him, before continuing. "I'm Sirius. Jeesh. I know you want to be me and everything, but -" Sirius cut off, the look in James' eyes finally registering in his mind, and he stood up suddenly, eyes blazing and glaring down at the boy who had yet to leave his bed. "You listen to me, James Potter!" He shouted, causing all three of the boys to jump in surprise and James' head to snap up, eyes wide in shock. Sirius pointed one long finger at his best friend, crazy hair sticking up from his head at every angle, 'You're going to get your ass out of bed, get into your Quidditch robes, go down to the Great Hall, and you're gonna join the hell in!" Sirius dropped his finger, instead leaning closer to James, who looked back with a mixture of shock and sudden resentment. No one had ever heard Sirius speak in such a serious tone, never had anyone see him be so passionate about anything, yet here he was, practically kicking his best friend's (metaphorical) butt. Only one person was to blame; Lily Evans. "And do you know what?" Sirius almost yelled straight into James' face, "You're gonna bloody well win!" In that moment, James was scared. Or, at least, he would have been, if the person threatening him hadn't been wearing lilac coloured boxers.


"You know, you never did tell me more about that little date of yours."

The sun was hanging low in the early morning sky, half hidden behind the crisp green grass layered in frost and the remains of last night's fog still hanging close to the ground, casting an almost eerie appearance to the setting. The sky was a painting of colours, reds and golds, yellows and oranges, purples and blues, all mixed together around the burning yellow sun. A loud wind was rattling through the trees, setting the air to an even cooler temperature and leaving people grasping their warm scarves to their goosepimpled necks as they fought away the cold. It was almost like even the sky was supporting Gryffindor as the pupils filed out onto the Hogwarts ground in the direction of the Quidditch stadium looming ahead of them, four bright sections shining the house colours, three golden hoops at each end. The crowd was bubbling with excitement and anticipation, a mixture of red and blue swimming in with one another to make a bundle of colours. Heading through the crowd, cloak wrapped around her against the harsh morning weather and sporting her striped gold and red scarf, Lily Evans stuffed her hands into her woollen mittens, her fingers already feeling as though they could fall off.

For the first time in her life, Lily felt bad for the players, glad that she wouldn't be out in the cold sat on a broomstick, perhaps minutes away from injury, and working their backside off to get... a ball. It wasn't hard to tell that Lily didn't really see the point in Quidditch. Sure, every other thing in the magical community excited her, surprised her, left her eager to know more, but Quidditch? Not one of them. Perhaps it was because she had been raised by muggles, neither of her parents having known about Hogwarts until her eleventh birthday, upon which date she received a letter of invitation and thus her powers became recognised, despite her having believed her childhood friend, Severus Snape, when he told her at a much younger age that she was magic, just like he. After all, she believed for it to be her childhood without magic that excited her so much over learning new things, whereas her other friends didn't take such an interest – especially Quinn. Quinn had been born into one of the most well known pure-blood families around, but she'd never once let that faze her, had never once shown any of the qualities that a Slytherin pure-blood family would. Well, except when she tried to get Lily out of bed on the mornings, then she showed enough evil traits to take all of the Slytherins on. Yet not a single member of her family had been placed into Slytherin for little over a decade, with most of them ending up in Ravenclaw for their sheer wit and intelligence. It surprised Lily that her other friend, Amie, had not been sorted into Ravenclaw herself, being one of the cleverest and most dedicated girls that she had ever met. Quinn's earliest relatives believed that their family was going downhill, that if they didn't get a child into Slytherin soon, then the whole Reynalds line would become a disgrace. Yet Quinn, her sister Rosa, and her parents, merely laughed and mocked the whole system. As far as they were concerned, their ancestors were a bunch of Dark Wizard loving, Muggle hating, Mudblood discriminating tossers. They themselves loved Lily, no matter her being born to muggles.

"You know, you never did tell me more about that little note of yours," Lily replied, receiving a frosty look from Quinn that said many a thing, mostly that if Lily mentioned that exact thing ever again, she wouldn't awake the next day. Either way it worked, because the brunette dropped her head, instead turning to Katy where they suddenly struck up an energetic, hand gesturing conversation about Quidditch that had Quinn jumping up and down at one point, her soft curls bouncing against the red lined hood of her robes, her top button undone and her tie loose around her neck in a way that screamed the fact she couldn't care less, even if her best friend was the prefect, the goody-goody, the one who she would've hated if she wasn't so darn cute! Lily rolled her eyes, turning behind her to look at Amie, whose long blonde hair was dropping over her bright blue eyes as she stared down at the frosted grass, appearing to be muttering to herself. "Hey, Aims, how abou- ow!" Lily's train of thought was lost as she walked head first into someone in front of her as a result of facing the wrong direction – not a clever idea when you are walking in a crowd of hundreds, all heading to the same location with an almost spooky eagerness to reach it. Turning around with her sharpest of glares, even if she knew it had been her own fault, Lily faced the obstacle in her path, the obstacle that was the last obstacle she had ever wanted to come across; she'd have much rather faced a dragon than the boy in front of her.

"Hey, Lily," James Potter stumbled, his hand running through his hair in the annoying way that it only ever did when he was nervous... or flirting. By the glitter in his eyes, and the history that the two of them had – not just his constant obsession with asking her on multiple dates – there was no doubt that it would be a mixture of the two of them. Was he nervous of the game awaiting him, as he stood there in his red and gold jersey, sleek broomstick in hand, or did she simply have that affect on him nowadays? Was the cocky, annoying 'I'm-Merlin's-Gift' attitude that he - and Sirius Black - took to everything really gone, with this new James Potter in its place? Lily knew she would only be able to tell with time, but whatever she had eaten had started to react badly with her stomach, causing it to flip-flop eagerly as though putting on a show of its greatest acrobatics, her heart speeding. Of course, it couldn't have anything to do with the way that his hair flopped attractively over his eyes, and neither did it have anything to do with the fact that his jersey had a certain way of showing off his muscles through the thin, yet luxurious, material. It wasn't even to do with the fact that something had happened, something that Lily wasn't planning on telling anyone in a million trillion years. No, all that was to blame was a badly cooked piece of bacon, or just one bad egg.

"Look, I've been thinking..." James continued, just the sentence itself making Lily want to pull a face of mock surprise and tease him about how he should never think as it would hurt his very small brain, or question him upon his health, for no normal James would think, right? And when the hell did she start thinking of him as James? Oh, yeah, that's right, that night. "And I think that you should at least give me a little something to wish me luck, yeah?" He looked down at her, his hazel eyes staring into her own shocking green ones, as he slung his arm around her waist in an attempt to pull her closer. Staring back, Lily could feel herself being dragged into his charm, dragged into the depths of his brown eyes that looked so... perfect. She couldn't blink, she couldn't breathe, and she especially couldn't move. So there she remained, in James' arms, Quinn watching with her mouth dropped open mid-sentence, Katy staring at the two of them almost enviously, and Amie finally looking up from the ground at the frozen image before her, yet they never noticed anything was out of the ordinary. This was James Potter, this was his game, the very game that he had been playing for near on seven years now, it came as normal to them, average, what they could expect everyday. The only difference this time, was that Lily wasn't pushing him away, she just seemed to be frozen, melting even. And then something must have clicked in her head as he began to lean towards her, his face growing closer and closer to hers, for she was pushing him away, hands hard against his chest.

"No! Potter, no!" Lily shouted at him, squirming to get free from his grasp, not daring to look at the face that she knew would be riddled with hurt, for the guilt would kill her on the inside, would chew her up and spit her right back out again, so that she was a mess of half chewed, saliva covered, grotesque mush. "I – I have to go," she mumbled, releasing herself from his arms that dropped stiffly back to his side, hands curling into tight fists. Without looking back, she pushed herself through into the crowd, running ahead of people so that she didn't have to be anywhere near James, anywhere near the boy who had almost got her a second time around. The people around her seemed nothing but blurs of colour, their confused and alarmed faces as she barged them aside nothing but a sea of faces, not a single one of them burning out the one face that wouldn't leave her mind, not a single one of them comparing to his. James just stood there, hurt running through his eyes as they widened in woe; woe that he really didn't need just before a game, but woe that he could use to turn into anger; anger that would keep him safe. "Well... that's a bit of a bummer." Quinn said, taking her blunt nature and stating the total obvious. Shame that she couldn't notice the other obvious secrets if they hit her in the nose or, for a taste of her own medicine, the jaw.


"Well, Mr Potter," Lily, winking, hiccuped a little, causing her to giggle gently, a sound that made James' heart glow, and a large smile made his face all the more picture of beauty, beauty that Lily was starting to see, now that she was no longer afraid to admit it. Or perhaps she had just drunk so much Butterbeer that the beer-goggles were just starting to take their course, for she now noticed the exact way in which his jaw curved, the way his deep, entrancing hazel eyes were neither blue nor green, but a mixture of the two. James himself had drunk very little, the girl that he had spent the whole night with being the only drug that he needed to keep himself happy – and happy she had sure kept him. All night, past the first two bottles of alcohol, Lily had been giggling and making jokes, teasing him and laughing at pretty much everything that he said. Perhaps it was the fear mixed with the tiny amount of alcohol that she had consumed to that point, or maybe Lily really was just a complete and utter lightweight. Her head felt light as she gazed into the beautiful eyes in front of her, her eyes wider than could ever be possible, almost giving the impression that she was on crack, but even so, her head spun and her stomach flipped in a way that had her thinking she was about to throw up everything that she had eaten that night, except the flipping was almost... pleasant, like butterflies were flapping their wings in a rhythmical dance of love and passion, longing and hope, dreams and happiness. She began to feel slightly dizzy, almost as though she was getting a premature hangover, or maybe that's just what she hoped it was as she flung her arms around his neck to stop herself from tripping.

James nodded at his name, grinning down at the completely drunk redhead in front of him whom he could only imagine would scold herself if usual Lily, prefect Lily, caught herself in such a state, and he could picture her telling herself off tomorrow morning, or – rather – later, as it was already well past three in the morning. He could see her now, groaning at her throbbing headache, stomach rolling at the sight of food, and feeling nothing less than sick, sick, sick! James suddenly felt sorry for her, an emotion that sent his hand to, once more, push a strand of hair from her face, a strand that appeared to have stuck there. Lily's bright red hair was tumbling past her shoulders, no longer in the intricate plait that it had started out in, the curls rolling over her chest perfectly, as though she was an angel sent from heaven to give him everything that he ever wanted, and ever would want; that itself summed up exactly how James felt about Lily Evans. James remembered back to hours before, when she had first pulled out the hair band from her plait, running her fingers through her curls whilst standing up and swaying her hips in what she had called her 'Sexy Dance'. It had to be true, James had never seen anything sexier than Lily rolling her hips with a bottle of Firewhisky in one hand, her other wrapped in her hair - but neither had he seen anything more amusing. He'd had to use everything in his power to stop him from jumping on her right then and there, to stop him from taking advantage of her once and for all. Her cheeks were a light pink from the Butterbeer, and he hated to think that the cute smile curling on her lips wasn't just because she was in his presence, and James should have been telling her to keep her voice down, to stop giggling so loudly, but nothing would let him scold a girl so beautiful, so perfect, so cute, funny, amazing, and, well... here.

Lily's breath smelt of alcohol, but it still smelt like the sweetest thing on the planet, the sugary taste of Butterbeer rolling off her lips. She leant up onto her toes and kissed him gently on the cheek, before tossing him one last smile, running up the stairs with her shoes in her hands. She sighed dreamily, dropping down on the bed as she reached it. Well, that's what she should have done. What she did do was something entirely different.

Pulling the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth, Lily gazed up at James, at the way his dark brown hair stuck up in a way that no one else's had ever done, in a way that annoyed her so much that she loved it. His eyelashes were much larger than she had ever noticed, thicker and longer, yet not in a feminine way, but a way that made his intricately patterned eyes seem all the more beautiful, all the more breathtaking. First three buttons of his navy shirt undone, she could just see the top of his tanned chest, muscled and smooth, and she could only think that it was the alcohol that made her wish that he wasn't wearing it, that she could truly revel in every inch of it, stare at every curve and every one of his perfect little abs. He looked back down at her through his round glasses, glasses that only James would remember she had taken off of him, placing them upon her own nose and prancing around the picnic area until she tripped and had fallen straight onto James' lap, where she had insisted on sitting for the next half hour, handing him back his glasses and instead trying to flatten his hair. James had to face it, drunk Lily was even better than the Lily of his dreams, because drunk Lily had truly felt like his own. He knew now how much it would hurt to lose that part of her in the morning, when she was completely sober and possibly having forgotten everything of their previous night. "Yes, Miss Evans?" James asked, mimicking her innocent tone, and widening his eyes for extra effect.

There they were, stood outside the stairs that lead up to the girls' dorms, Lily's arms around his neck, shoes hanging from one of her hands, James' own arms reaching around to her waist as she pressed herself closer to his chest, a dreamy look in her eyes as she glanced almost teasingly up at him, her breath taking on the scent of the Firewhisky that she had also consumed, mixed with her earlier scent of Butterbeer. In his arms, against his body, her nose tickled with his smell, a smell that was so perfect that she couldn't even find words to describe it, only thinking of all of her favourite things mixed into one big bundle; one big bundle of James Potter. Slowly, as though in a daze, Lily stood up onto her tiptoes, so that her face was almost level with his own, something that James knew wouldn't be comfortable for her for long. Smiling at her, he wondered what crazy thing she was going to do now, attempt to be taller than him? In her dreams. But what happened next was a regular occurrence in James' dreams, not her own. She kissed him. Her soft lips pressed against his own slightly nibbled ones, and immediately a sensation much better than that of the Firewhisky that he tasted on her breath over took him, the warmth ten times the power than that of the sweet tasting alcohol could ever match up to. He clung onto her as she gently began to move her lips with his, for now she was his alcohol, and he was completely love drunk. But he would never get too drunk on Lily, would never get sick with her - for she was his everything. Maybe this was just another of her drunken antics, but somewhere, deep down, James knew that she meant it. After all, she had stayed with him, and she couldn't be that much of a lightweight to kiss someone she really hated, could she?

Lily's lips brushed against his gently as they seemed to be dancing together, perfectly in sync, perfect for each other in every way. Her mind went even fuzzier than it ever had been, a feeling of euphoria bubbling inside her whole body and taking it over, urging her to keep kissing him, to never stop. She felt as though she could never have too much of him, and was scared that it had taken her this long to realise her feelings, scared that it had taken her so many years and so many bottles of sugary alcohol. But he tasted so magical, a hint of Butterbeer mixed with the freshly picked raspberries they had shared for dessert, Lily insisting on throwing them into his mouth and laughing when he caught them, only to repeat the process seconds later. When she had got bored, she had run away with the raspberries, hiding behind a tree until James had found her, picked her up so that she was hanging over his shoulder, and had carried her back to the blanket, threatening her teasingly all of the way back that he was going to drop her in the Black Lake, to a reply of squeals and playful hits on his shoulder. Whether it was the rush from the alcohol, or the rush from his kiss as it slightly deepened, Lily never wanted it to go away, wanted to remember it forever, yet she knew she wouldn't. Would she remember any of it tomorrow? And then their lips were separated, James having pulled back from her and was looking in awe down at her. She stared back up, not a trace of a giggle or a 'gotcha' on her lips, not a single sign that she had only been tricking him, had only been playing a game, only experimenting. By the look on her face, it had come as as much of a shock to her as it had to him. She really had meant it, she really did feel the same way. She really did... love him. What was that they said; there's a thin line between love and hate? Well, it looks like it just got a hell of a lot thinner.

Dropping back onto the soles of her feet, Lily smiled hesitantly at her realisation, not sure where it would take her next, but James answered that for her. Putting his hand under her chin, he lifted it up to face him, and placed one last soft kiss on her lips that lasted no more than a second, before releasing her chin once again. For the few minutes after that, she leant against his chest, holding him close to her, scared to let him go in case everything turned out to be a lie, in case everything was forgotten, in case he regretted it. At least she had him now, and she never wanted that to change. James' hand went up to her hair, stroking it softly, and he dropped one more kiss on the top of her head, to which she looked up at him, searchingly. He did nothing but nod, and she understood, once more, what he was telling her. He was telling her that everything would be okay, that he was there now, that he was all hers, and that no amount of alcohol could make that up, that no amount of sobering up could make her forget him, the taste of his lips. She pulled back, starting up the stairs, knowing what he was telling her to do. He was telling her to go to bed, for he didn't want her to do anything she regretted, didn't want to feel as though he had taken advantage of her. That was why he had pulled away, to save her innocence... to save her heart. Turning back to look at him once more, a smile on her lips, her shoes in her hands still, she winked, and that was when she ran up the stairs, not the time that she should have. She ran up the stairs when she did, and darn, she was glad she had waited.

Damp eyes glistening with the tears of her sorrows, Lily suddenly knew exactly what she was feeling, exactly what she had to do. She had fallen completely in love with James Potter, and she had been falling for a stupidly long time. It was completely typically her to be stubborn enough to hide her heart, to stuff it far away in some back corner and ignore its pleading cries for attention. It appeared to be Butterbeer that could give her heart a voice and control over her body, and it was her heart that now longed for James, that now almost begged to be close to him. Seated in the stands, roaring Gryffindors screaming the same name over and over again in a chant, her heart began to cry at the very sound, the sound of her love's name, and through her own eyes, tears began to spill. Hot, heavy tears dripped from her eyes like a waterfall, and she dropped from her feet onto the benches beneath her, the only pupil in the whole stand that wasn't on their feet cheering. Her head spun dangerously, threatening to make her pass out in a single moment, in a single movement. Soon, her face was dripping with tears, and she felt more lonely now then she ever had in her whole lifetime, even though she was surrounded by her friends in a tight huddle, the people that she felt made up her family here squashed in close by. Loud sobs dripped from her mouth, completely hysterical against the whooping crowd, their hands clapping together and their own mouths still emitting the one name that made her heart sting - "Potter, Potter, Potter, Potter!"

Grasping hold of the sleeve of Quinn's robes, Lily tugged as hard as she could through the tears that were so strong that they had her body shaking. Dripping eyes looking up at the fuzzy version of her best friend, the image unclear because of the enormous amount of water in them, she noticed Quinn look down at her uncertainly, shaking her arm in an attempt to get Lily off her robes, not wanting to take her eyes off of the game for a second more than necessary. But one glance at her small redhead friend had her hands frozen mid-clap. She dropped automatically, scared at seeing her usually non-caring best friend in such a state, a state that she had never seen anyone in. Quinn didn't do comfort well, yet here she was, the only Gryffindor who had noticed the girl crying her eyes out. Guilt overthrew her as she dreaded to think of how long Lily had been grappling for her attention, and even more so how long she had been in pain, a black fear creeping up on her. Was she hurt? Was she going to be okay? But still, Quinn was too scared to even place her arm around the girl closest to her in both her heart and mind. Her eyes said everything that Lily needed to hear, and between sobs she found herself telling Quinn her heart's desires, needing to shout over the noisy crowd to be understood.

"Quinn, I-I k-k-kissed James P-Potter," she spluttered, biting her lip to try and quieten her deafening sobs. "A-and I... I don't r-regret it." That was when they heard it, the screams of fear, the shouts for help, the gasps encircling them. Something had happened, someone really was injured. No longer was his name being chanted, now it was being screamed, yelled across the whole of the Quidditch stadium in a kind of haunting requiem. Over and over, screams from all houses, screams of desperation. Lily looked into the sky, her heart pounding. The moment she caught sight of him, her heart stop beating, caught in her chest, and her scream was the loudest of them all, a scream that stopped all of her breathing and she wasn't even aware was hers.

Through thousands of feet of sky, James Potter was falling.


A/N: Eeek, cliffhanger, much? You'll have to wait a few days to find out what happens next, and most importantly, will James be okay? I hope you all liked it :)