'You're my favourite kind of intervention.' - Radney Foster, Drunk On Love

"YES!" The entire stadium (well, except for the blue-and-bronze and green-and-silver) erupts in cheers as I land smoothly and hold up the tiny golden ball. I grin around at all of the people focused on me, and wink sadistically at the Hufflepuff seeker who lands a way off from me.

"AL, YOU LEGEND!" I am knocked off my feet as my brother catapults into me and twirls me around like a five-year-old. But I can't find it in me to care too much as he sets me back down and exuberantly kisses me on the cheek, before crushing my ribs again. "Al, I'm so proud of you, you're the best brother ever: the tea to my toast, the tie to my shirt, the - "

I shove the Snitch into his mouth and clap him on the back, barely managing to grin and say "I know, man", before I am again picked up like a doll, this time by Frank, and then paraded around on the shoulders of the Gryffindor Beaters, with Ria squeezing my arse shamelessly.

"Al?" Someone shakes me gently.

I moan and scowl, opening my eyes unwillingly and sitting up slowly to find myself in a dusty History of Magic classroom, with a sketchpad on my desk and Binns' monotonous voice droning on.

I blink at the small blonde girl next to me. "Ems? What're you doing here?" I look around to find my usual desk partner, Lysander, who is traitorously sitting across the aisle next to Rose, diligently noting down whatever Binns is going on about.

Emma reaches out almost subconsciously to smooth my hair down from where it got disturbed by my lying on a desk. "Lysander couldn't concentrate with your sleep-talking – don't worry, it was quiet enough that nobody else could hear - , so he swapped places with me and Binns didn't even notice. I wouldn't have woken you up, but you started talking about how fit you think you are, and it was a bit…weird." She trails off, her interest captured by the open sketchbook that I'd fallen asleep on.

"Is that…"

"You? Yeah." I brush the eraser shavings off the page. "This class is so fucking boring that I drew you and managed to have a great Quidditch dream afterwards. And the bell for the end of class still hasn't gone."

Emma's clearly not listening. She reaches out and takes the pencil drawing carefully. I watch as she gazes at it, taking in every little detail. "I just … look so different."

I frown, slightly offended. "No, you don't. Trust me, that's you to the bone."

"But I … you've …"

I sigh. "What have I got wrong?"

She bites her lip, teeth cutting through the shiny lip gloss, nervous for some reason. "I look pretty." She almost whispers the last word.

Oh, for Godric's sake.

I frown again. I may have to ask Lily to owl Vic for tips on preventing frown lines. "Exactly." I look at her, with the soft light hitting her honey blonde hair and her wide blue eyes looking at me anxiously. Emma, quiet and shy, with a scarily high tolerance for alcohol, and a dream of being a fashion designer. Emma, the kindest person I know, who rubs off my rough edges and never complains about it. Emma, the surprisingly fearless girl whose favourite colour is sunshine yellow, and has more insecurities than she ought.

"You're fucking amazing, and it's about time you realised it." I say roughly, and have a huge coughing fit afterwards.

Even Binns, in a historic moment, pauses in his speech to look at me. "Mr Potter?"

I wave him away. "It's all fine here, Prof, cheers for caring."

He nods and continues as I turn to find Emma sitting stock-still next to me, gazing at me in shock.

I ruffle my hair. "I still blame bloody Scorpius Malfoy for how emotional I'm getting."

She swallows, nods, and turns back to face the front. I grimace and turn the other way, straight into the gaze of the all-knowing and ever-present Lysander Scamander, sitting and listening across the aisle, who smiles at me and gestures to Emma.

I roll my eyes. I should've known to do that without asking him. And so I decide to screw my apathy and follow Scor's example by ruffling my hair again and shifting my chair closer to hers. "I still meant it, you know. And maybe I don't say it enough, but it's true. And that drawing is how everyone else sees you: how you should see yourself."

I feel like throwing up at the sap coming out of me, but it's worth it when Emma turns and smiles at me, taking my hand gently. "That means a lot, Al, especially coming from you." She leans up and kisses my cheek, and right on cue, the bell rings loudly.

I shove my books into my bag, but still don't let go of Emma's hand, even as she leads me up to the library, with Lysander on my other side, smiling like a proud father, and Rose trailing behind us, complaining (as usual).

"So what were you dreaming about in class?" Emma smiles as me as we step off a moving staircase."

I grin. "The Hufflepuff game on Saturday. It was epic."

"You were great, Al, as always." She squeezes my hand gently. "James must be happy."

"He's high on life right now; the points from the game mean that we're pretty much guaranteed to win the Cup now, in his last year as Captain, unless Ravenclaw pull some amazing stunts out of their arses."

"I wanna go find Scor!" Rose interrupts Emma's reply, as we slip into the library.

"Go, for all I care." I throw back at her, rolling my eyes. "Nobody's forcing you to come with us."

"Besides, you know that Scor and Ria have gone down to Dominic Maestro's in Hogsmeade to get the new Black Magic album. They'll be back soon." Lysander reasons with her.

She scowls, but her reply is cut off when we round the last bookshelf to find Scor and Ria dancing on a table, in complete silence.

It's such a strange picture that we just stop and stare for a minute, before Ria twirls Scor around and he catches sight of us, stopping immediately to wave eagerly. When Ria's face lights up when her gaze finds mine, I embrace the warm butterflies in my stomach like a true man.

As Emma pulls me forward, the strangeness is immediately explained as we pass through the magical sound barrier of a Muffliato charm, and are immediately assaulted by music blasting out of Scor's speakers on a nearby bookshelf.

Scor immediately jumps into Rose's arms, wincing when she can't carry his weight and drops him on the floor, while Ria flops down into a chair and kisses me softly. "We came back earlier than we expected, but didn't want to go back to History of Magic, so we thought we'd wait for you here." She gestures at the bookshelves vaguely, grinning around at us. "Did we miss anything?"

"Nah," Lysander lowers himself into the chair opposite her and pulls out his History of Magic notes, along with a Self-Inking quill and some parchment. "Just Al letting his emotions flow."

Ria turns to me, eyebrow raised. "Do tell."

Emma smiles and pulls out a chair for herself. "He was cute to me."

I groan and slouch in the chair next to Ria, leaving Scor and Rose kissing passionately on the floor. "Cute? My masculinity is in tatters."

"What masculinity?" Lysander asks earnestly.

I gape at him and turn to Ria. "Babe? This is when you stand up for my manhood."

She looks at me, eyes wide, mimicking Lysander. "What manhood?"

I pout. "I came to have a good time, and I am honestly feeling so attacked right now."

"This is war, Potter." Scor leans into my face, grey eyes impossibly wide and lips swollen. "Fight or die."

"Way out of context, mate." I push him away. "Are you drunk?"

Lysander laughs. "If he's always drunk."

Scor whirls away out of the range of the Muffliato charm, spinning Rose around like a pro "Drunk on LOVE! And baby, I'm flying on a - "

"Master Malfoy."

Rose steps away quickly, leaving Scor to spin gracefully into Master Pince's skinny arms. The librarian steps back as if electrocuted, then swallows hard and continues. "Master Malfoy, the library is not for such frivolity; it is a place of learning, and - " He takes steps forward as he gets into his speech, until he suddenly screeches and stumbles backwards as he passes through the sound barrier.

"Masters Malfoy, Potter and Scamander, I would ask you to leave this hallowed place of quiet reading along with Misses Weasley, Longbottom and Black." He pushes his glasses up his nose firmly as he glares around at us.

We stare at him.

"NOW!" He bellows.

We're out of there like lightning.

"This is why I never go to the library with you two." Emma says, sighing as she addresses Scor and Ria.

Ria drapes an arm around her and squeezes her until she squeals, while Scor wipes away a fake tear. "Emma, your words are like bullets to my heart."

Ria nods, clutching her chest. Rose snorts and leans over her shoulder, moving her hands to the left side of her chest. "Your heart isn't on the right side, Ria."

Ria winks at me. "But Rose, my heart's always on the right side."

I grin at her and Lysander laughs. "Al, man, you're changing. Months ago you would've gagged at that."

I scowl and Ria groans. "Sander, don't give him any ideas. He's being sweet today."

I sigh. Sweet is not a term people usually use to describe me. Maybe I really am changing.

Caught up as I am in my mini-existential crisis, I barely notice Ria waving goodbye to the others and pulling me away until we are walking out of the Entrance Hall. I wrap my arm around her waist to stop her. "Ri? Where're we going?"

She almost looks embarrassed. "It's our two week anniversary."

I just stare at her. She lets out a breath and smirks. "Yeah, I know it's fucking stupid, and trust me, I don't normally do stuff like this: it's more Scor's area. But you were so sweet when you asked me out on my birthday that I thought I should make it up to you and do…this."

She gestures with her arm and I realise that we are at the edge of the Black Lake. And under the tree is a red and gold picnic blanket spread out on the grass, with a wicker basket resting on it, waiting to be opened.

There's a long silence.

I ruffle my hair. "Is this a date?"

Ria lets out the laugh she seems to have been holding in and pushes me onto the blanket gently. "Hell yeah, if that's what you want to call it: our first date. Now shut up and enjoy the food."

An hour and a half later and I'm leaning against the tree trunk, staring up at the school, with Ria next to me, legs thrown over mine, and my sketchbook open over her legs, again attempting to sketch the school as she chats to me about Dominic Maestro's.

" – and he asked if we were interested in interning there in the Easter holidays, and at first we were fucking ecstatic because you know we love that shop, but then Scor remembered that he's going away with Rose in the holidays, so he can't do it, so then I was about to say no too – because you know I'd never consider working in mine and Scor's favourite music shop without Scor – but then Scor said I should, because he knows I'll be lonely in the holidays without him, and it'll take my mind off it if I get a job like that, but I have to promise to Floo-call him every day about how awesome the shop is, so I said yes, and now I've got a job in Dominic Maestro's for the Easter!"

"That's pretty damn awesome, babe." I grin at her, looking away from the school for a moment.

"I know!" she effuses, beaming. "It's going to be great!"

"Of course." I say, turning back to my sketchbook. "In fact, I bet - " I trail off, staring down at the drawing, just like Emma had done in History of Magic.

"Al?" Ria slips her legs off mine and leans over to look at my drawing. "What's – woah."

And it's a rare thing to make Ria Black speechless.

"Yeah." I say.

"It's done."

"I think it is."

There's a pause. And then she throws her arms around me and kisses me full on the mouth, pulling away much too quickly. "Al, you've done it!"

I stand up suddenly, looking down on the finished drawing of Hogwarts. "I've done it. I've done it!" I repeat, and sweep her up, kissing her again.

She laughs and flings the picnic basket and blanket over her shoulder, silver-ended hair getting caught in the handle as we speedwalk back to the castle, with me holding the sketchbook as if it's sacred.

"You know what this means?" She looks at me, eyes dancing.

I think it over. She's got the internship of her dreams, and I've finally managed to get all of the beautiful intricacies of my school's magnificent exterior down on paper. "We're champions?"

She nods seriously. "We're fucking champions."