"Hi," Lily said brightly, dropping her book bag onto the couch. James looked up from Quidditch Through the Ages.

"Hello," He replied, wondering what was Lily on about. She looked offended.

"What, I can't even greet my own boyfriend now?" She asked, crossing her arms. The words had their desired effect; James couldn't help but smile when she said 'boyfriend'.

"'Course you can, love," He said, setting down his battered book. "Anytime you want."

"I knew that," She settled on his lap. James couldn't believe his luck. They had only been going out for two weeks and already she was sitting on his lap!

"In a good mood, are we?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist. Lily turned to smile at him.

"I wanted to tell you something," She told him, tucking her hair behind her ears. James followed the movement with puppy-dog eyes.

"Yes, darling?" He asked distractedly. Lily smiled to herself; this was going perfectly.

"I'm going on a date with Sirius tomorrow, you know, when you have Quidditch practice," She spoke all those words in approximately five seconds then hopped off. "'Kay bye!"

James snapped out of his trance in a flash. "You're what?" He yelled, but the portrait hole was already swinging shut. Slumping against the cushions, he wondered how a perfect day had led into such a big mess.

The next day, James dragged himself out of bed and onto the Quidditch pitch. To his surprise, Sirius was there, holding his Beaters' bat and his broom over his shoulder.

"Hey James," His best friend called out. "You look terrible."

"Hello to you too," James grumbled. "You'd look terrible too if your girlfriend was cheating on your best mate, namely, you."

"First of all, I'm Sirius. I never look terrible," He grinned arrogantly. "And second of all—wait, what?"

"Lily told me she was going to Hogsmeade with you today," James glared, not buying the act. "As in a bloody date."

"What?" Sirius stared and dropped the heavy bat on his toe. "OUCH!"

"Serves you right," James said coldly.

"Have you gone mental, James?" Sirius gasped, his eyes watering. "Evans is up there!" he gestured to the top of the stands. Instinctively, James glanced up and sure enough, the bright red hair and sparkling green eyes—visible to him even at this distance—was present. She waved merrily to him and smirked, mouthing, "Gotcha."

"The world just hates me, doesn't it," James sighed.

AN: first of all, I want to say OH. MY. MERLIN. You guys have gotten me to a HUNDRED reviews! Congrats to Skaterofthebooks, my 100th reviewer, who was also the first to review this story—you made other people notice this and got it where it is today :D Thank you all so, so, so, so much! I was literally squealing when this hit 100 and I couldn't have done it—derp—without everyone who reviewed and subscribed, and favorite-d. I don't know why I'm saying this because this is obviously all you guys' diligent work and I absolutely love every single one of you. I know it sounds stalkerish but I do. Secondly, I apologize for not having any shoutouts lately :( I've been way busier than I would have liked and most of your dares are coming pretty soon. Thanks again for being so patient and tolerant. You are awesome. I mean that. You, the person reading this boring AN is positively amazingly awesome.

~A very happy and squealing Gella

Note: I changed to title because I was sorting through some old fics that I've read and I came across one that was called The Best Years and I didn't want that author to think I ripped it off or anything so now this 102-review-fic is now called The Golden Age of the Marauders :)