James had no problem with girls. He had no problems with girls playing Quidditch. He did, however, have a problem with girls getting themselves killed while playing Quidditch. And that, he worried, was exactly what would happen if he let Emma Robbins play Seeker on the Hogwarts team.

James groaned and buried his head in his hands. It was two in the morning on Wednesday night and he was absolutely exhausted. He had nearly put together the school's team, but he couldn't decide what to do about Emma. And to top if off, he still had to write legible flyers to post around the school tomorrow.

It didn't seem so bad to let her advance to the second phase of trials. She had performed spectacularly on Sunday and completely shown up Hastings at every opportunity. It would have been absurd not to let her advance. James was sure someone would outperform her on Wednesday.

No one did. But, Emma nearly had her nose broken by a bludger. She'd been bleeding like mad during the scrimmage, but she didn't let him fix her nose until after she caught the snitch. And James couldn't help but admire that. In fact, he was positively thrilled with it. If it were just the Gryffindoor house team, he wouldn't have thought twice about making her the Seeker.

The problem, at least in his eyes, was Durmstrang. The girls at Beauxbatons were fast, and certainly a force to be reckoned with, but Durmstrang played rough and brutally. Rob Hastings, a somewhat skinny fifth-year, had knocked Emma off her broom. James was afraid a crash with a burly Durmstrang seventh-year might kill her on impact. And what about a bludger whacked by one of their Beaters? He was sure they'd pick absolute beasts for those positions.

And what, he asked himself, would happen if he didn't manage to catch her next time she fell off her broom? Half the school had told him how impressive it was, and James was rather pleased with himself, but a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that she may well have died if he had been on the other side of the pitch.

He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses and shook his head. He ought to call it a night and delay the announcement of the team, but he had promised the whole sodding school he'd have it done.

"Fucking hell," he muttered and sank his head back into his hands.

A small giggle nearly knocked him out of his chair.

"Are you talking to yourself, Potter?"

James blinked several times and stared at Lily Evans, who was making her way down the stairs in a light pink bathrobe.

"What are you doing up?"

He knew his tone must have been harsher than he meant for it to be, because she knit her brows together and said rather tightly,

"I could ask you that."

James sighed.

"I'm working on the Quidditch team."

"At two in the morning?"

He grimaced.

"I said at the trials that I would have it up by tomorrow, didn't I?"

"You did."

Lily settled into a chair near him and James saw that she was carrying her Transfiguration textbook and several sheets of parchment. He almost asked her if she was actually working on homework at this hour, but he decided not to risk offending her again.

"You could just tell everyone it's delayed a day," she said.

"I suppose I could. But people are anxious to hear, especially the people who tried out," he said.

"Well, I won't disturb you any more then."

James knew better than to tell her that her very presence distracted him. Instead, he watched her open her book and set the pieces of parchment to one side of it. It seemed she really was doing homework at two in the morning.

James shook his head and went back to staring at the pages in front of him. He really wasn't sure why he was looking at them still. He didn't need to look at his notes to know Emma had performed best.

He pushed the papers to the side with a grunt and twirled his quill in his fingers absently.

She would be the youngest Quidditch player at Hogwarts in years, decades actually. After the trials he had asked Dumbledore if Emma was too young to play. He had half hoped the headmaster would make the decision for him. Instead, he had just smiled and told James those decisions were left to his discretion. Apparently, James had some sort of leadership position now, and was thus accorded both freedom and responsibility.

Great help that is, he thought to himself as he continued to ponder his dilemma.

If Emma was the best, then really he ought to let her play. It was the only fair thing to do. But the very thought made him anxious, and the image of her getting knocked off her broom replayed itself in his head. There was simply no way he could do that to little girl. He couldn't, even if it was unfair. But James had always prided himself on being a fair, if tough, captain.

He groaned. This was a sodding mess.

"Is it really so bad, Potter?"

Lily had shut her book and was looking at him with a small smile playing on her lips.

"Just part of it is."

"Which part?"

"Well…truthfully Evans, I've been making it a policy not to discuss this sort of thing with anyone."

"That's probably a good idea, quite professional of you actually," she said.

"I have my moments."

This earned him a smile from Lily.

"It's too bad though," she said. "I'm awfully curious to see how you put the team together."

James felt his resolve weakening. She was curious. Curious about something he was doing. And it would be nice to hear what she had to say. Lily seemed to make good decisions.

"I might be able to make an exception."

"Really?"

Lily tucked her knees under her and nodded for him to continue.

"I'm going to be posting the team in a few hours, so just don't run around waking people up to tell them what I've said, yeah?"

"I won't, I promise."

"Right, so, I've got the team mostly put together. The only problem is that little first-year girl, Emma Robbins."

"What's the problem? She seemed brilliant!"

"She was, but I don't know if I should actually put her on the team. I'm not sure if she can really handle these kinds of matches. I mean she's tiny, and young, and..."

"And a girl?"

Lily's eyes were flashing dangerously and James snorted in disbelief.

"You don't honestly think it's because she's a girl? There were three girls on Gryffindoor's team last year. And I'll remind you that I picked that team!"

"So, it's because she's young and small?"

"Yes, not because she's a girl. Quidditch games are rough, I'm worried she's going to get hurt."

"You mean like getting hit with a bludger and nearly having her nose broken, because that already happened."

"Or falling off her bloody broom and crashing to her death!"

"Which also nearly happened, but you saved her."

"And that somehow makes it okay? What if I'm on the other side of the pitch next time she gets knocked off her broom? Or hell, what if I just don't see it happen, or can't get there quickly enough, or just somehow drop her?"

Lily looked at him for a moment and her eyes softened, though James couldn't quite decipher what her expression meant. She lowered her voice when she spoke again.

"If you hadn't gotten to her, one of the professors could have slowed her fall. There are charms for that, even if they are difficult," she said. "There's always accidents that can happen in Quidditch, why is it different with her?"

"Because…"

James trailed off and tried to gather his thoughts. He wasn't entirely sure why he worried about Emma so much more than other players. It wasn't just her size. Seekers were usually small. And her age didn't bother him, since her talent more than made up for it.

Lily was looking at him with her eyebrows raised, awaiting his response.

"It can't be because she's a girl. That's never bothered me before. It's not that."

"It sure seems like it might be that."

"It's Durmstrang! I've played with guys from there before and they're brutal. They're usually big, they like to knock their opponents around, and they can whack the hell out of a bludger. They'll just tear her apart."

"Because she's a small girl?"

"Yes!"

"What if she were a boy, a scrawny twelve-year-old boy?"

James sighed. He knew his answer, and he wasn't sure Lily would like it.

"I'd say to hell with it. He signed up to play Quidditch and so that's what he's going to do."

Her eyes flashed and James could tell he'd gotten her angry again. But really, why the bloody hell did she have to be like this? Was he really so awful for not wanting to let little girls get knocked around?

"So if it were a boy in the exact same position, you'd let him play," she snapped. "But because she's a girl, suddenly it's a dilemma?"

"Yes! At the very least she is going to get the living hell beaten out of her, and there is a decent chance she'll get seriously injured! So what kind of irresponsible, callous, un-gentlemanly git would I be if I knowingly put a twelve-year-old girl in that position?"

He expected Lily to yell at him. He'd completely lost his temper and raised his voice. Besides, it didn't usually take much to get Lily yelling at him. But instead, she just looked thoughtful.

"I don't think you would be irresponsible or ungentlemanly, or anything like that," she said eventually. "I think you would be fair. You would be acknowledging that Emma has a right to decide for herself if she wants to play a sport where she might get hurt. And it seems to me that she's already decided that. She's been knocked around by bludgers, knocked off her broom, and nearly had her nose broken, but she still wants to play. So, is it really fair of you to tell her she can't? Especially if you'd tell a boy in her place that he could?"

James felt his stomach starting to sink, because what Lily had said sounded right. Emma ought to be on the team, even if it meant he'd be entirely unable to sleep before Durmstrang matches.

"I reckon you're right," he said at last. "I really didn't think it had anything to do with her being a girl, though it seems it did."

Lily gave him a small smile and James couldn't help but feel a bit more cheerful. At least she didn't seem cross with him anymore. In fact, she seemed slightly amused when she spoke again.

"If it helps, I think it was the fact that she was tiny, and young, and a girl that did you in. I think it was just too much for your previously unknown chivalrous side."

"Previously unknown? Surely you're not implying my chivalry surprises you?"

She grinned.

"That's precisely what I'm implying."

"I am plenty chivalrous!"

"Name an instance when you've been chivalrous."

James searched his brain. All that came up were dozens of instances when he had attempted to be chivalrous with Lily, only to infuriate her.

"I've tried, but it's never gone as well as I'd hoped," he gave Lily a pointed look. "Usually the girl in question hexes me."

"Like when you insisted on carrying all my books to class and I had to hex your arms to your sides?"

"Exactly! How was that not chivalrous?"

"It's not chivalry if the girl says she can manage just fine and you proceed to ignore her and levitate her books into your arms!"

"What if it's a heavy plant and she's about to break her arms carrying it to your work station."

Lily giggled.

"Then it probably is chivalry and the girl in question is just being stubborn. But, since she had admitted this earlier and apologized, it's most ungentlemanly for you to bring it up again."

"I'm terribly sorry. I hope the lady will be so kind as to forgive my lapse."

"Seeing as it's late and you seem quite tired, I suppose I will," she smiled.

"Speaking of late, why the hell are you doing homework right now?"

"Truthfully?"

"No, I wanted you to make up a spectacular story."

Lily smiled at him.

"Well," she let out a small sigh. "I think the real reason is that I'm practically compulsive about getting good marks. But, the reason I give myself to avoid admitting I'm compulsive is that Alice kept us up late discussing the trials. So, I still need to finish the last question from the Transfiguration homework, even if it is two in the morning."

"Of course, makes perfect sense," James smiled at her. "I mean you couldn't possibly leave one question blank."

"And risk getting an A on one assignment? Never!"

She giggled again and James felt his mood improving. Suddenly staying up late in the common room didn't seem so miserable. In fact, he was feeling wide awake and quite content. He glanced back over at Lily, who had tucked a wavy strand of hair behind her ear and surveyed her stack of parchment again.

"I may just call it a night though," she said. "I can't seem to figure out this last question."

"Which one is that?"

Lily got up from her chair and came over to his table with book and parchment in hand. She passed the homework questions to him and James skimmed down to the end of the page. Does a witch or wizard's animagus form indicate anything about his or her personality or physical characteristics? Explain your position.

"Well of course it does," James said. He could just picture Sirius bouncing around like an overexcited puppy at the thought of new prank, or Peter squeaking when he was nervous.

"Of course? Where on earth does the book explain that?"

This gave James a moment of pause. The book had not been quite so explicit. James had made the argument because it fit his personal experience, then he had dug around the book to find passages to support his opinion. But he wasn't about to explain that to Lily, so he asked to see the book and tried to find the passages he had drawn on.

"It's mostly in the case studies," he said. He tore some parchment into a few pieces and stuck them in the book to mark the appropriate passages as he spoke. "The case studies talk about the personalities and appearances of the anamgi, and I think McGonagall is hoping you'll use that information to make an argument. You could really argue it either way, I suppose. I just think the case studies offer more evidence to support the idea that the animal form says something about the anamgi."

He handed Lily's book back to her with the pieces of parchment sticking out at all angles. She brushed his hand as she took it back, looking at him with an odd mix of skepticism and admiration.

"Thank you. I have to admit, I'm a bit impressed."

"Well, I like Transfiguration."

"It's not that so much. I knew you were good at it," she said. "I'm impressed you actually bothered to do all the reading, including the case studies."

He shrugged.

"Like I said, I enjoy it."

"Well, thanks," she gave him a small smile, then covered a yawn with her hand. "Well, I suppose we'll both get to bed a bit sooner."

James rather wished she hadn't used the words "we" and "bed" in a sentence together. It made him wish they'd both get into the same bed 'a bit sooner', or ever really. But aloud he just said,

"I suppose."

After a moment of collecting himself, he added,

"I do still have to write the flyers. That'll take forever since my handwriting is a right disaster."

"I'll do it for you."

James felt his mouth drop open.

"Oh-er-I mean, I guess I shouldn't," Lily tucked her hair behind her ears again. "I mean, well, since I shouldn't know who's on the team before everyone else and-

"No, no. It's not that. Everyone else will find out in a few hours anyway," he said. "I just don't want to keep you up. It'll take forever."

"To write one flyer?"

"Well, we have to have at least four for the great hall, then we need-

"So? I'll duplicate them."

"Oh."

James felt like a moron. He had never bothered to learn a spell for duplicating things, although it made perfect sense that there was one. He could see the smile forming on Lily's lips again.

"Do you mean to say that you actually wrote each of those flyers individually, Potter?"

"Well-er-Peter did actually, but-

She burst out laughing and James decided not to bother coming up with an excuse for his stupidity. Collective stupidity really. Sirius, Pete, and Remus were just as guilty.

"Honestly. Come on Potter, dictate the names to me."

She grabbed a piece of parchment and her quill, then sat down on the edge of the table. Her bathrobe rode up her thighs a bit and James stared at the creamy skin and the line her legs made as she crossed them. He looked away quickly and prayed she hadn't noticed.

"Had you not finished picking the players?" she asked, mistaking the reason for his rather vacant look.

"No-er-uhm…"

She frowned at him for a moment, then said,

"Ohhh, is this about Alice?"

"Er-yeah," James stuttered, seizing on the explanation she provided.

"I realize she's not going to make the team. Even she knew that Longbottom was better."

Having finally managed to get his mind off Lily's thighs, James began to put together what she was saying.

"No, I mean yes, yes Longbottom is better. He's going to be the Keeper. But I'd be mad not to have a reserve Keeper, so Alice made the team as a reserve player."

"Oh, she'll be so excited!"

Lily was absolutely grinning and James grinned back, though partially out of relief at not having been caught looking up her robe.

"Well come on Potter, what are the names then?"

James dictated the names, sometimes spelling them as well for Lily. When he was finished she held up the flyer for his inspection.

Hogwarts Quidditch Team

Chasers

James Potter (Gryffindor)

Jenny Wong (Gryffindor)

Annalise Foster (Hufflepuff)

Beaters

Greg Harper (Hufflepuff)

Edward Burke (Syltherin)

Keeper

Frank Longbottom (Ravenclaw)

Seeker

Emma Robbins (Gryffindor)

Reserve Players

Alice Manning (Gryffindor)

Norman Flint (Syltherin)

Mingmei Chin (Ravenclaw)

First practice is Friday at 3:30 PM

James read over the flyer several times then said,

"Perfect."

"Geminio," Lily swished her wand and another copy of the flyer appeared. "Now you try it, Potter."

"Geminio."

Nothing happened and they both started to laugh. James had never quite had the same knack for Charms that he did for Transfiguration.

"It's a lighter motion," Lily said. "Don't jab so much. Gently swish."

Keeping that in mind, James attempted the spell again. To his relief, a third flyer appeared and he and Lily continued duplicating them until they had eight.

"Right then, I'll post these first thing tomorrow. Don't say anything until then," he said.

"You're not going to sleep through breakfast? I certainly am."

"I can't keep the masses waiting."

"Honestly, Potter. Well, good luck getting through lessons then."

She shook her head at him, but she was smiling as she did so. James couldn't bring himself to feel the least bit concerned about being tired during lessons. He wasn't sure if he'd ever made Lily Evans smile this much in his entire Hogwarts career, let alone in one conversation. To hell with sleep, he'd do this every night for the rest of his bloody life.

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "Thanks again for your help."

"Your welcome, thanks for the Transfiguration help."

"Any time."

"Well, good night then, Potter."

"Night Evans."

James retreated up the stairs to the boys' dormitory and let out a heavy sigh. He shut the door behind him and started kicking off his shoes and socks. Why did Lily Evans have to be so wonderful?