The following Wednesday was the lone day that neither the Gryffindors nor Slytherins had scheduled practice ahead of their title-decider at the weekend. Nevertheless, Sirius found himself tromping down to the quidditch pitch under the watchful gaze of the slowly setting sun. Despite being told he and Katie were square, it seemed that she felt free to ask him for favors now – this time a flying lesson for her friend. To his right, there Renee was, walking gracefully forward with her arms comfortably at her sides. He noted the look of contentment on her face. Just by looking at the brunette it would be impossible to guess the machinations that went on in her mind. But as Sirius had discovered, there was certainly more to her than met the eye.

Sighing quietly he gazed off for a moment. One thing he remained certain of about her – she was easily Gryffindor's worst flier. While she was not without rivals in that regard, it was impossible for anyone present to forget her ghastly displays in Madame Hooch's class. First she had distinguished herself with the dubious honor of taking nearly half the first lesson to get her broom to rise off the ground and into her hand. But it only got worse from there. After a titanic struggle to actually mount the thing, she had barely wobbled a few feet off the ground before falling gracelessly back to earth. It had taken her nearly half the term to complete the simple take-off, loop, and landing that even the next worst among them had mastered by the end of week six. Now she wanted flying lessons?

To his relief, the pitch was entirely unoccupied. The fifth and seventh years were undoubtedly studying furiously ahead of their looming O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, while the remainder of the student body was lacked access to a broom or had preferred sprawling out in the courtyards of the castle or lazing by the lake.

"Where's my broom?" Renee asked simply.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Locker room. Figured a practice model would be more your pace."

Renee glared back.

"If I'm wrong, prove it," Sirius shrugged. "For now, wait here."

After disappearing into the depths of the changing area for a moment, he eventually resurfaced hoisting one of the smallest practice brooms. The long-locked wizard tossed it unceremoniously toward his housemate to catch, nodding in tepid approval as she managed the feat.

Straddling his own broom, a carefully maintained Cleansweep Five, the young man kicked hard off the ground, rocketing upward toward the center of the pitch. He shook his head as he ascended rapidly, enjoying the feel of the currents created by his travel blowing through his hair. Settling into his superior vantage point, he could easily see that Renee had adopted quite an agitated pose on the ground below. The witch had dropped the broom she'd been given, fixing both hands firmly on her hips. From what he could tell she appeared to be shouting something. Sirius laughed.

After several minutes of teasing her with a quick lap around the pitch and showing off some clever feints and rolls, he swooped down closer to Renee. The brunette was well worked-up now, wearing a firmly rooted scowl that matched the blazing anger in her eyes perfectly.

"What's wrong, love?" Sirius chirped. "I thought you wanted to fly?"

Silently, the brunette straddled her broom.

Rolling his eyes at her attempt to give him the cold shoulder, Sirius edged forward, wagging the end of his broom like a tail before shooting upward almost vertically. He made to do another lap, before quickly changing direction and guiding himself closer to where she had just kicked off the ground. He shook his head in amusement. The poor girl was still wobbly.

"You ever going to get up here?" he taunted. "You were rather insistent about having this lesson and yet you're leaving me all alone…"

"You're a right git!" she shouted, careful to maintain her balance as she plodded forward until she finally reached him.

Sirius chuckled. "Already throwing in the towel are you?"

"I'm doing perfectly fine," Renee snapped. "Doesn't mean you're not a git."

"A git? Really? I mean if you're trying to get under my skin…I've been called that too many times to remember."

"Oh sod off," she grumbled, fidgeting to stay comfortable atop the old broomstick.

"You don't look terribly comfortable."

"Well I'm terribly not."

"Never been on a racing broom then?"

"This old thing is a racing broom?"

"Comet 180. Best broom there is for quidditch…"

Renee gaped.

"Least if you're Dumbledore's age," he added with a smirk.

Now the girl scowled. "When is this pitiful thing from? It feels like they hadn't even developed the Cushioning Charm."

"Hell, it's newer than that," Sirius retorted. "They started making them in '38. Carried on for decades. No clue how old that particular one is though. It's been ridden hard, I'll grant you."

"Ever the gentleman…"

"I'd offer you mine," he shrugged, "but honestly…a bit too much speed for you I think. And with the Cup on the line this weekend, I can hardly take the risk."

"I'm not going to break your broom!"

Sirius looked pensive for a moment before shaking his head. "Afraid I can't chance it."

"Fine," she huffed, watching as the young wizard gazed off into the distance. "You picked this piece of rubbish. I'm going to assume it wasn't just to humiliate me."

"Please. You know this whole thing is for Wallenby," he said bluntly, fixing Renee with a hard stare. "Still, I suppose we ought to have some fun. Follow me."

Renee nodded, urging the old broom forward to match Sirius's more sluggish pace. The pair climbed slowly before leveling off and banking slightly to make their way toward the center circle.

"Ever been up here?" Sirius asked.

"Of course not!"

He signaled for her to stop. "Look around you then," he said, waving his hand through the air.

From the central position high above the ground it was easy to see the entire pitch. They had stopped in the middle of the center circle and it was clearer now just how high the stands match-goers sat in each year stood. The hoops also appeared much more imposing from here than they did to the average spectator. Not only were they tall and surprisingly thick, but the distance between them seemed far greater. Seeing things from this vantage point certainly gave one a greater appreciation for keepers.

"It looks so…different," Renee said.

"Yeah. I'll bet."

"What's it like? On match days?"

A firm, yet oddly wistful look overtook his grey eyes before they closed. He inhaled deeply, smelling the special scent that signified summer and enjoying the light breeze that seemed to kiss his cheek.

"Sirius?"

Grey eyes opened.

"It's bloody brilliant. Best feeling. Floating in the air with a bat in my hand. The whole school roaring. Heart in your throat waiting for the whistle…"

"You really love it, don't you?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I really do. Best place to get away and just be in the moment. Better than pranking even."

Renee smiled slightly.

"If you're talking to James though, I never said that," he added sharply.

"You mean you don't give him these glowing descriptions?" she quipped.

Sirius snorted. "Not quite. James loves quidditch, but he's more…cerebral about it. I'm more of an artist."

She resisted the urge to giggle.

"Besides, I've been giving him hell all year about his lack of pranks. I can hardly be caught telling you there's other ways I'm happier spending time."

"I suppose not. Certain appearances to uphold, right?"

"Exactly," he grinned.

For the next several minutes they each scanned the pitch in silence.

"You know, Haverford. You're not half bad when you switch off interrogation mode."

Renee laughed lightly. "And you're not nearly what I imagined."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"No. I expected more of a brute."

It was the wizard's turn to remain silent.

"Here I was looking for a rough rebel, but it turns out you're more of a romantic at heart."

The brunette glanced at the sun, which had already slid partially below the horizon.

"Done then?" Sirius inquired, gesturing toward the ground.

Renee nodded simply, nudging the nose of her ancient broom downward to begin their descent.

James swung wide to the right as Sirius whomped a bludger hopefully past him and toward the narrow advancing triangle of Slytherin chasers. It caught Callum Avery in the back just as the stocky wizard got the quaffle away.

"And that's another goal to Slytherin! They lead 80-40 after an abject series of giveaways by Gryffindor's third-year chaser," grumbled Arnold Baker. "You can see the Lions' Captain fuming as the quaffle is channeled away from him again by Slytherin's clever positioning. This has been a tactical master class so far by Fawley, putting pressure on Gryffindor's rookie players…"

"Master class…you'd think he was a bloody Slytherin," James growled as he urged his team to fan out into another wide attacking pattern. Predictably, two bludgers were sent almost immediately in his direction, forcing him to swap positions with Maggie.

"Chamberlain narrowly avoids trouble there as they had him boxed in two-against-one. The pass is completely sideways to Brinkley…Chamberlain gets it back on the one-two, but he's coming up on the steady three-on-one scenario they've got cooked up for Gryffindor's wide formation. Burke in that ranging deep position when Slytherin are without the quaffle has been a nightmare…"

James zoomed forward at top speed.

"Chamberlain gives it sideways to Brinkley who's clearly walled off…I don't think…but no she's passed over the top to Potter flying in from behind! He's clean through! One-on-one with the keeper and it's a goal to Gryffindor to check Slytherin's 50-0 run. Score now at 80-50 with no sign of the golden snitch."

The messy-haired wizard pumped his fist before whizzing back in defense. Passing his two fellow chasers he hand-signaled they should follow the tactic he'd used in the future until Slytherin made a change. Craig might be a lightweight in the physical game, James reasoned, but he was a skillful enough passer if they could work themselves into the right positions.

As Slytherin's narrow three advanced on Maggie, James smirked as Sirius walloped Avery in the chest with a bludger. The quaffle fell kindly to Fawley, but his shot was easily saved by Stan, who lofted a pass forward to Craig on the counter. James watched happily as the third-year ducked a well-struck bludger and split the beaters with a pass in his direction.

"And that pass was feathered impeccably by Chamberlain as we may be seeing a change in tactics by James Potter…Yes! Potter has scored once again, this time on Chamberlain's assist and suddenly it's Gryffindor's leader looking the maestro. 80-60!"

For the next ten moves, the new tactic worked to perfection as Slytherin refused to change their approach. They had managed to score repeatedly themselves, but ultimately Gryffindor had finally retaken the lead on Maggie's latest goal, 160-150. Of course, with Slytherin as the opponent, nothing was ever assured to remain effective…

"Oof! And that's a penalty to Gryffindor. Cobbing of course as Fawley nearly sends Chamberlain off his broom with a vicious elbow to end a series of physical attempts to wrest control of the quaffle from the young chaser. Tried to conceal it, but Madame Hooch was alive to the reality of the situation. It'll be Potter to take…remember Cranch is particularly adept at saving penalties. Yet to concede one this season…"

Taking position in the center circle, James noticed the golden snitch hovering slyly beneath the Slytherin keeper. He needed to move quickly and hope that Colin caught sight of it before his opposite number. quaffle in hand, James quickly shot forward, feinting left to bait Cranch, but failing. As the distance quickly closed between himself and the Slytherin goal posts, James pressed forward, tucking the quaffle low in the crook of his right arm. If this didn't beat him, nothing would.

James elected to go dead red at Cranch. At twenty yards to go he accelerated further to top speed. He'd have to time it perfectly. Rolling right very late, Cranch followed easily. James smirked, rolling upside down. The attempt would be dreadfully weak, fighting gravity in more than one sense, but if he could lob it just right…

The quaffle left his hand with as much force and height as he could manage under the circumstances. The result was ghastly looking, but it was just what James hoped for, a high, sluggish ball that Cranch could only try to tip over. Damn he was perceptive, but maybe…

Roars of jubilation poured forth from the Gryffindor stand.

"Unbelievable! An audacious penalty attempt by Potter dupes Cranch and tucks in, just past the keeper's flailing arm and through the hoop! 170-150! But what's this? The Gryffindor seeker is heading for Cranch now. Potter's dive drew the attention and now Colin Davies is inches away! Cranch a desperate attempt to block, but the snitch jolts upward and so does Davies! He's caught it! That's the whistle! Gryffindor win! Gryffindor win! They take the Quidditch Cup! The Lions will be partying proudly in their tower tonight!"

The following morning, Lily woke early. Taking care not to wake her roommates, she dressed comfortably and crept down to the Common Room. It was sure to be a nightmare, but Remus had promised her he would make sure no one slept on the couches this time when she had decided to turn in early. However, when she rounded the final bend in the staircase she quickly noticed it had been a promise unfulfilled.

Staring at the mess before her, Lily saw that decorations were still strewn everywhere, along with empty cups and spills. One of the celebratory banners her housemates had quickly crafted after the victory hung perilously close to the smoldering embers in one of the fireplaces. In fairness to Remus, fewer students had wound up on the furniture, and thankfully none were on the floor. Still, it aggravated her to see that not only hadn't he followed through, her fellow prefect was actually amongst those who had stayed behind. Remus was lounging lazily in one of the large chairs on the far side of the room, his sandy hair falling back off his face. Slumped toward him with her head on the closest arm of the neighboring couch was Britt Lawson. Predictably, the rest of that coach housed Maggie and Anders. Craig was passed out on the other end, an empty mug near his head and a disgusting string of drool trailing out of his mouth. Sat like a king in the remaining armchair was Potter, his messy black hair mostly obscured by a ridiculous charmed crown and his body hidden by one of the heavy Gryffindor banners that normally hung about the Common Room, which he seemed to be using as a blanket. A smile played across his face as he slept. Lily shook her head.

"Bloody nightmare," she muttered to herself, pulling out her wand.

For the next hour, Lily slowly and quietly gathered the garbage, scoured out stains, and avoiding waking up the worst of the revelers. Finally however, the banner draped over Potter was the last remaining item to be cleaned up. Delicately, she levitated the heavy object off of him, directing it slowly toward its appropriate resting place with careful flicks. After several attempts she finally managed to set it right.

"Unnh…" came an almost immediate grumble. Bleary hazel eyes gazed up at her. "Evans? Wha…why are you up?"

Lily sighed, raising a finger to her lips, hoping it would dissuade further conversation.

It instead spurred a sleepy and bewildered James Potter to groggily approach her. "Bloody hell. Did you actually clean this place up? Helluva job…"

"Why thank you," she hissed sarcastically.

Potter shook his head. "You're always doing that…I say something nice and you're always…why are you always doing that?"

"I'm supposed to take 'helluva job' as a sincere compliment?"

"Sorry it wasn't the Queen's English…it's way too early."

"Right. Well I'm glad you're at least thankful. Though it might be nicer if you didn't leave such a mess in the first place."

"I suppose," he began, his mind finally clearing, "but we are supposed to deliver fun. You know it's a bit hard to contain sometimes, but we'd have picked it up."

"I'm sure…"

He shook his head again, this time feeling a tug on his hair. "What the…is there something on my head?"

"You didn't do it?"

"Do what?"

"The stupid crown."

"There's a crown on my head?"

"Hell, Potter…how much did you drink last night?"

"A few Butterbeers," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I gave up the flask and the Firewhiskey, remember?"

Lily fought to suppress the flush she surprisingly felt rising to her cheeks as she recalled the first blowout of the year.

"Anyway…I don't know anything about a crown. Can you get it off?"

"You can't do it yourself?"

He tugged sharply on it with a hand before grimacing. "Stuck. Probably Sirius. Blighter."

Lily produced her wand again.

"No!"

"Well how else am I supposed to get an enchanted crown off your head?"

"Magic…that's what he wants. Get me to cut off clumps of my hair or something. You try it?"

"You've already–"

"I know. Just try it."

Throwing him a skeptical glare, Lily reached out and pulled. Her head jerked back in surprise as the crown came off easily.

Potter chuckled.

"How did you–"

"He's done it so many times…usually he thinks of everyone…guess he got lazy."

James pulled out his wand aiming it at the pile of garbage Lily had assembled.

"What are you doing?"

"Bit of magic…"

"Obviously…"

"You'll see."

With a twist of his wrist and a flick upward, the pile seemed to fuse, rearranging itself into the shape of a roaring lion.

"Better," he said, nodding. "Anyway, I suppose I'd best go get cleaned up. Promised Katie when she turned in that I'd meet her for breakfast. What time is it anyway?"

Lily shrugged. "I came down at maybe 7:00. So I suppose nearly 8:30 by now."

"Perfect! Plenty of time!"

As Potter turned on a dime and bolted up the staircase toward the boys' dormitories, Lily was once again left alone.

A/N: Alrighty! Finally the end of Sixth Year! And Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup! I don't have a whole lot to say about this chapter, but I hope you found it enjoyable despite the somewhat disparate things it addressed. I realize that I really cut down the quidditch as compared to the last match I described and took a bit of a different approach to it, having things more driven by Arnold's commentary, but hopefully it still had that quidditch match feel and you could get into the game and the result. I also hope you enjoyed Sirius being open to helping Katie without obligation and a little more of James and Lily. I know the James/Lily interaction wasn't terribly substantive this time around, but I really wanted to end with them and do so on a specific kind of note (which hopefully came across).

I'll jump right into summer next time. There will be some intriguing developments throughout and a seismic shift somewhere in there that I hope will come off well and will be looking for everyone's thoughts on if they want to share.

As always, thanks for reading! If you're enjoying the story, please leave a like if you haven't already and review below!