The Potters lived in a large house on the outskirts of a muggle village slap bang in the middle of the countryside. They really lived the average magic folk's dream – white picket fence and (mostly) gnome-free garden and all. I always found it quite strange that so many of us chose to live in the country when it was easier to hide in the big cities, but I think something about the country way of life appealed to our seventeenth century farmer lifestyles.

"Come in, come in!" Mrs Potter cried as Lily and I kind of stood awkwardly at the front door.

I tripped over the hall rug practically the moment I stepped in the door. Before I could fall and smash my nose into the floor, however, a pair of strong arms caught me and made sure I was the right way up again.

"You okay?" Sirius asked, concern evident in his eyes, now that I was looking for it. I knew Sarah would shoot me another significant look if she were here. Curse you, Sarah.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of any Sarah-induced thoughts that Sirius liked me in that way, then realised that the man in question might interpret this as that I wasn't okay. "I mean, yeah, I'm fine," I hurriedly correctly.

Awkward silence.

Shouldn't we be doing something right now?

"Sirius dear," Mrs Potter called from further down the hall. "Could you show Millie up to the guest room on the second floor?" She turned a little to look at me and smiled.

I think it had something to do with the fact that Sirius was holding my hand.

"It's next to Lily's so you won't be all alone. And the boys are just down the hall anyways."

I could feel her smile on the back of my neck all the way up the stairs.

Sirius dropped me off at my room and traipsed away to his to drop off his trunk. It was a beautiful room, as far as rooms go. I wasn't getting any weird vibes from it, which was always a good start. The walls were covered in pretty pastel yellow wallpaper and the large window opposite the door looked over the Potters' rather overgrown and very homey backyard. I could just imagine this room being completely magical during the summer, with the sunlight shining through the lace curtains, creating delicate shadows over the walls…

I tripped over myself three times in my rush to get to my bag (which was conveniently lying behind my trunk, so I tripped over that too) and pull out my sketchbook. I had to be quick and get a preliminary sketch in before the light changed and the view from my window was lost for another twenty-four hours.

I was already well engrossed in my drawing five minutes later, that I didn't notice that someone was at my door.

"You like the room?" Sirius asked, breaking my concentration, causing my pencil to skid across the page.

"Ah!" was all I managed to say.

I didn't have to look at his face to know he was smirking. "It hasn't even been fifteen minutes in a new place and already Millie the intrepid artist is busy capturing the world around her!"

"I'm not an artist." I got up off the floor and grabbed my bag, rummaging through it to see if I could find an eraser.

"Darling, I've never met someone who was less of an artist than you." It's weird how having a crush on a guy can make you so aware of their every movement. Take, for example, now, when I don't even need to look up to know that Sirius was now making his way over to me. Or maybe it was just that Sirius always seemed to have such a presence.

"Clearly you haven't met many people," was my distracted reply to what may or may not have been a compliment.

I felt that smirk again. Was it creepy that I could do that? Probably.

I still hadn't found my eraser. With a frustrated sigh I tipped the entire contents of my bag onto the bed.

"Do you see an eraser anywhere?" I asked Sirius. Perhaps a second pair of eyes was what I needed.

He came over to stand beside me by the bed and surveyed the scene with those cool grey eyes. They searched through the sea of scrap pieces of paper, a few old chocolate frog cards, the odd pencil or ten (in varying grades and lengths), a few stray knuts, a packet of tissues, two tubes of lip gloss, my dad's missing cuff link (so that's where it went), my wallet and a pair of earrings of my grandmother's (which I received on my eleventh birthday).

Man, I really needed to clean my bag out more often.

"No, I don't see an eraser," was the cool reply I got for my question after a moment or two.

"Hmm. There must be one in my trunk then…" I distractedly turned away from the bed in an attempt to get to my trunk.

Bad idea.

I accidentally stepped on my open shoelace, causing my feet to have some sort of spasm. In an effort to gain my (quite sporadic) balance once more, I wheeled my arms around in some sorry and (if this was someone else) comical imitation of a Dutch windmill. All I managed to do was snag my hands in Sirius' cardigan.

"Woah!" was the intelligent thing I said, before my balance decided to completely desert me and I fell backwards onto the floor, pulling Sirius with me.

"I have a strange sense of déjà vu," I said mildly as I hauled myself off of Millie. Actually, that's a bit of a lie – I only took my body weight off her, but didn't make any serious move to get up. I rather liked this position.

"Yeah? And I have a hurting backside," she muttered.

I couldn't help it – I smirked down at her.

She narrowed her eyes at me.

"Are you okay?" I asked. I seemed to be doing that a lot.

"Fine," she grumbled.

We stared into each other's eyes for a few moments.

Millie shifted a little underneath me.

I didn't move.

"Are you going to get off of me anytime soon?" she asked.

"Nope."

"Right. Just checking."

Another few moments of silence, but this time, Millie wouldn't meet my eye. Her eyes kept on flicking around – first over my left shoulder, then my right, then off to the right side, then left again…

I could feel another smirk pulling at my lips. She mightn't like me, but being this close made her nervous, I could tell. It made me feel somewhat pleased that she felt something other than hatred around me.

"How about now?" she asked.

Before I could give another witty reply, our intimate moment was ruined by my git of a best mate.

"If you're going to have sex, could you at least bother yourselves to close the door?" he said from the doorway.

"What?" yelped Millie. She made to get up, most probably forgetting that she couldn't actually achieve that, what with me still practically on top of her, so inevitably, she crashed into me, which took me by surprise (for someone so petite, the girl sure hit you like a particularly strong stunner), causing my arms to give way.

I once again, ended up sprawled over Millie.

It was rather a nice feeling.

Sue me, I'm male.

I heard Prongs laugh. "My, aren't you two just adorable?" he cooed.

"Prongs, if you don't shut it, I am going to tell your mother that it was in fact you who broke your great-grandmother's vase and not the cat," I threatened as I reluctantly rolled off of Millie and onto my feet. I should be in the ballet with my amazing grace – but only if it was a manly ballet.

Before she could protest, I grabbed Millie and hauled her to her feet. Merlin, she was so light. How on earth did she manage to keep on course on her broom? Didn't the wind just blow her away?

"You broke your great-grandmother's vase?" Millie asked, one eyebrow raised, an amused expression on her face.

"It was an accident," he mumbled. "And it was a long time ago."

"It was last summer," I corrected.

"And you blamed the cat?" Lily asked, coming up behind Prongs. He took her hand in his. Merlin, could those two get any sappier?

"Yeah."

"And your mother believed you?" Millie said.

"Only because I told her that," I said, puffing a little with pride in my mad lying abilities.

"Mummy's boy," Prongs snickered.

"Jealous!" I said airily as I swept past him and down the stairs.

Mrs P's famous lemon tart beckoned.

Sirius was right. Mrs Potter's lemon tart was quite possibly the best thing I'd ever eaten.

"This is really good Mrs Potter," I said around an impolitely large mouthful of tart.

She beamed at me. "Thank you, dear. If you want more, it's here." I was already on my second helping. At this rate, I wouldn't be able to get my broom off the ground.

"Sirius dear, chew before you swallow. It's not running anywhere," Mrs Potter scolded gently. It seemed that every time she talked to Sirius, she was scolding gently.

James snickered.

Sirius pouted (rather adorably – there's no point denying it anymore. It's pretty cute). "That's what you think!"

"If your food runs away again, I assure you dear that James will be in a lot of trouble." She shot her son a stern look, because it seemed as if that was exactly what he was thinking of doing.

Sirius assumed a smug expression and poked his tongue out at James.

James kicked him under the table.

Lily and I tried to (unsuccessfully) hide our smiles in our tarts.

"When's Dad supposed to be back?"

"I'm home!" a male voice sang from the front of the house.

A lanky individual walked into the kitchen. Even though his hair was now more salt than pepper, the way it stuck out at the back could only mean that this was James' father.

"Ah! The kids are home too I see!" he said as he caught sight of us scoffing his wife's lemon tart like there was no tomorrow.

"And there are girls for a change, so I won't be so outnumbered," added Mrs Potter. Holy Merlin, if I ever marry, I want what these two have. Something special.

"You must be Lily!" he said happily whilst shaking poor Lily's hand quite vigorously. "James talks a lot about you!"

"Yeah, he doesn't shut up!" Sirius cut in.

Lily was going steadily pink.

"And you…" he turned to look at me. James and him shared the same hazel eyes – down to the round glasses that framed them. "Must be Millie White." He sounded more thoughtful as he said that.

"Pleased to meet you," I said politely.

"Your father worked at the Ministry, didn't he?"

"Uh, yeah, in the Department of Mysteries."

"Yes… I remember him… a nice fellow. Quiet, kept mostly to himself." It sounded more like he was following some internal train of thought, rather than talking to me. What do I say now?

"Um…"

"I've heard that you're Gryffindor's star Seeker!" he said, suddenly changing the subject.

"I'm Gryffindor's only Seeker, so I guess there's not much competition, really."

"She's just being modest," Lily inserted. Being my best friend and all, she must have thought it was necessary to praise my Quidditch skills. "Gryffindor's never lost a game with her on the team!"

"That's right!" James beamed like a proud father.

"Really?" asked Mr Potter. "Is that true? You've won every game?"

"Well, not exactly. We've drawn at least twice."

And thankfully, the conversation progressed quite naturally from there. Quidditch – it brings people together, it does.

"I'm sure James has mentioned that each year we have a Christmas party at our home," Mrs Potter mentioned casually during a slight lull in the conversation.

"No, he hasn't," Lily said.

"James!"

"We have a Christmas party every year at our home," James dutifully told us.

"Well it's more of a ball really," Mrs Potter continued.

I choked a little on my sip of tea.

"Ball?" I squeaked. Why did this not sound good?

"Oh yes! It's all quite fun! William's friends from the Ministry all come over with their families and all the wizarding folk in the area are invited too, of course. Your mother used to come as well!"

I'm sure that was meant to be reassuring.

It wasn't.

"Did she?"

"Yes! Didn't she ever mention it to you?"

"Uh… she might have…" Not that I listened much when Mum went on and on about all her social events. I was daddy's girl to the core.

"So, of course, you two would be wanting to go to Diagon Alley for dress robes…"

Lily seemed to perk up at the idea of shopping.

"Dress robes?" I squeaked again, but no one seemed to notice.

"We'll make a sort of girls' day out of it! What do you two think?"

Lily looked at me with eyes shining.

I glanced over at Mrs Potter's face.

Her eyes were shining too.

Great.

"Um, alright then," I said carefully.

"Excellent! We'll go the day after tomorrow!"

Yay! Shopping! For dress robes! So I can go to a ball! What fun!

Did you notice my sarcasm.