'James, would you pass the gravy, please?'

James did as he was bidden, reaching across the dinner table to pass the little ceramic jug to his mother.

At the head of the table, Harry Potter coughed, just the once. Cutlery clinked and scraped against plates. Upon the mantle, the large clock tick-tocked audibly. Across the table, James met Al's eye. He was looking as if he'd just been gifted a brand-new Nimbus model broom. Lily was looking irritatingly smug to his left.

'So then, Odette,' Harry Potter eventually said in the direction of the roast lamb sitting in the centre of the table. 'James, er, tells me that you're quite the Quidditch player. And a Seeker, no less.'

'Dad!' James hissed. He'd only told his father about a hundred times. 'She's only, like, the best Seeker in Hogwarts ever.'

This made both Harry and Ginny raise their brows. The latter with a glass of red wine paused halfway to her mouth.

'Except for that one time I beat her to the Snitch,' Al chirped in, unhelpfully.

James aimed a wild kick at him under the table, missed, and smashed his toe on a chair leg. His eyes watered with the effort of not showing the pain.

'Gentlemen, please,' Odette purred in a sultry voice. 'I've enough boys fighting over me at school, let's not bring it home, now.'

Ginny, who had been midway through taking that sip of her wine, suddenly choked, and did well to stop herself spitting half of the glass down her front. She compensated for this by draining the rest of its contents in one go, and setting the glass down on the table rather harder than James thought strictly necessary.

'Why yes, that's right, Mister Potter,' Odette said with a glowing smile and a smoky look that made James' heart shiver, even though it wasn't directed at him.

'Please, call me Harry.'

'Whatever you want, Harry.' Odette leaned forward with a heavy-lidded gaze and lay a hand softly on Harry's arm.

This had the result of forcing Harry to take a hasty sip of his own wine. Ginny's grip on her fork suddenly became rather intense. From the corner of his eye, James could see Lily making fake gagging motions. He aimed another kick, missed yet again, and shoved his chair back quite aggressively.

'I'm going to check on dessert!' he yelled to the table at large.

Out in the kitchen, James gripped the edge of the bench with a white-knuckled hold. He filtered through the cupboards for a bottle of chilled butterbeer and popped the top with the butt of his wand. He drank until the fizz made his stomach bloat and his eyes water. The bottle was nearly empty. Though the summer eve had been hot and sticky, nothing had left him as uncomfortable as dinner-time conversation with both his family and his girlfriend.

'This is a disaster,' he groaned up at the ceiling.

'Isn't this wonderful?' Odette laughed, bursting through the doors into the kitchen, an empty glass in her hand.

'This is the most awkward thing in the history of my life. Possibly the most awkward thing ever.'

'Nonsense, James, darling! Everyone is having a blast.'

James groaned. 'I can't believe I let you talk me into this.'

Odette fluttered her eyelids and held a single had to breast in mock affront. 'Me? I seem to recall it was you who couldn't agree fast enough when I told you what the reward would be…'

'Yea, well… can we just skip ahead to that part?'

'I hardly think your parents would take kindly to my stripping naked on your dinner table.'

James threw up his hands in exasperation. 'You know what I mean.'

'Of course I do.' Odette's smile was coy. The golden light of the setting sun lanced in through the kitchen window to illuminate the dangling silver earrings that sparkled at her neck. 'But you need to let me have my fun. Not to mention you could do with the lesson in etiquette. Your roguish indifference will only get you so far in life, my dear.'

'Let's hurry up and get this over with,' James muttered, taking Odette by the upper arm and steering her back to the kitchen.

'Ugh, you're such a boy. Can you honestly not think about something else for just one minute?'

'Think about what?' Ginny asked sharply, her gaze taking turns pinning first Odette, and then James, to the spot. It was the dangerous look she got when she knew she'd caught James out in something – like when he'd been smuggling toads into Lily's sock drawer.

But Odette – to her absolute credit – was not fazed in the slightest, and stepped forward to gracefully slide into her chair in stark contrast to James' sheepish slinking.

'Quidditch,' she said seamlessly. 'Sometimes, I wonder if he'd even remember who I was, if I didn't meet him across the pitch a couple times a year.'

James watched in shock as the look melted off Ginny's visage like before the summer sun. 'Tell me about it,' she nattered. She was nattering, now. With Odette! 'If you get Harry and Ron in a room they'll be bouncing plays off one another until the cows come home. I swear, they wouldn't even notice if I fell asleep mid-conversation!'

'Hey, now,' Harry objected. 'That's hardly fair.'

'It took you three hours last Wednesday to realise I'd dozed off while you and Ron debated whether Lazenby or Cottrell would make a better Beater for the Montrose Magpies.'

'It's Cottrell – Ron's blind to say otherwise. And besides, that's an utter lie. I noticed right away, darling. It's just that you make such a better listener when you're asleep.'

James inhaled a mouthful of water. Al started gagging on a baked potato. If the look Ginny had brandished at James earlier had been cool, this one – directed at Harry – was positively arctic.

'Can we not talk about Quidditch for just one minute,' Lily chimed in, dragging everyone's attention towards her and promptly diffusing the situation. Harry was nodding vigorously in agreement.

'Very well,' said Ginny with a protracted indrawn breath. She folded her hands neatly in her lap and made a great show of bestowing a polite smile upon Odette. 'So tell us, Odette, how did you two meet?'

'Ah…' Odette's earrings shivered as she flicked her gaze over to James, and then back to Ginny, clearly uncomfortable.

'Playing Quidditch,' James finished, rather smugly.

Lily actually went so far as to bang her head on the table in despair.

Later that evening, once everyone had eaten far more than they needed, they sat around on the veranda out the back of the house, overlooking the Potters' back garden, which sloped away before them. Though the sun had set, and the only light afforded them was a series of shimmering globes hovering around their heads, James could still make out the tall dark shapes of the sentinel conifers at the bottom of the garden that had marked the bounds of his childhood quidditch pitch for years. They waved drunkenly in the soft breeze, fuzzy patches of inky blackness blotting out the stars above.

James held a small glass of Firewhiskey in one hand. The lingering heat from his last mouthful still coursed and pulsed deep in his stomach, ensuring that it would be a while before he took the next sip. The air was mild, if not outright warm, and he had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, past the elbows. An actual shirt, this evening, after Odette had marched him up to his room to change when he'd greeted her at the door in a t-shirt and jeans. She'd been an instant hit in the Potter household from that moment on.

His other hand sat at his side, with his fingers laced through Odette's. They sat side by side on a bench seat. For the moment, in comfortable silence. Every so often, as they turned to talk to one family member or another, their proximity would cause their shoulders to brush together. Occasionally, and entirely unbidden, Odette would give his hand a subtle squeeze. And a rush of affection would well up in James' chest in response.

'So what do the rest of your friends think about this?' Harry asked with a casual wave towards James and Odette. 'Fifth year… blimey, I was lucky if I could share the same room as a girl for longer than a minute without getting all tongue-tied and flustered.'

Ginny rolled her eyes very pointedly.

'You must be the only one of your friends to be in a relationship?' Lily piped up. James had thought she'd gone to bed.

'A serious relationship, at least,' Ginny added. James felt a little hot under the collar at the mention of serious. He pushed the thought – and attendant discomfort – from his mind.

'I don't think a girl exists who could spend more than a minute around Freddy without being driven insane,' he ventured. Harry and Ginny both gave knowing chuckles.

'What about the other one?' Lily asked. Her voice was oddly high and strained.

'Who, you mean Clip? He's obsessed with Cassie, but I don' t think-'

'No, the Hufflepuff one.'

Something in her abrupt tone pulled James up short. All five of those gathered paused to give Lily identical questioning stares.

'What? I'm just asking,' she said defensively.

'Keeping tabs on James' friends, are we?' Al goaded with a smirk, shuffling his chair forwards to get in Lily's face.

'No! I'm just- I should be keeping tabs on you, what with your three Ravenclaw girlfriends.'

This time, it was Harry's turn to start choking on his drink.

'I think it might be time for us to leave,' Odette said smartly, standing up and pulling James to his feet by virtue of their conjoined hands.

James couldn't have agreed more.

There was a round of warm farewells, and promises to visit again soon. Ginny invited Odette around for dinner every week, making a point of saying James had never been so well-behaved at mealtimes. James retaliated in a most mature fashion by sticking out his tongue.

He'd agreed to accompany Odette home via Floo, and so they gathered around the fireplace together, now arm-in-arm.

'We'll see you soon, James,' Ginny said, somehow managing to make it into a warning.

Before he had a chance to respond, Odette had tossed the powder into the hearth and cried out her address. In a flash of green and a sudden overwhelming smell of soot, the living-room disappeared around them.

James was keeping his eyes scrunched shut in a feeble attempt to ignore the familiar sensation of having his body squeezed through a straw. But, as the chaotic tumble and rush of warm wind assailed him, he caught a sense of something that felt sort of… off. A sudden breath of cold wind, bearing the scent of dust and ash and a sense of things long-forgotten. He snapped open his eyes, saw a smear of purple-black against the green…

And was spat out before he had a chance to realise what he'd seen.

They were ejected onto the lush carpet of a living room floor. Odette, naturally, made the act seem a thing of distilled grace. James staggered a step and dropped down to one knee before he could quell his momentum.

'Mother!' Odette cried warmly, darting forth and dropping James' hand to embrace a figure who appeared framed in the light of the kitchen doorway. The two hugged fiercely, and James hastily brushed the worst of the soot off of his shirt while he awkwardly awaited his introduction.

'Hello my little swan,' Odette's mother crooned, kissing her daughter on both cheeks and then her brow before breaking off the embrace.

'Mother, this is James,' Odette said, a little more demurely, gesturing for James to come forward. He hastened to acquiesce.

James could certainly see where Odette got it from. Her mother was tall, willowy, graceful, and – was he allowed to say it? – beautiful. In a serene, understated way of ready smiles, glowing eyes, and a welcoming, intangible warmth that filled the room. She had darker hair than Odette, although James had known Odette five years now and still wasn't sure of her natural hair colour. And where Odette wouldn't let herself be seen in public without a coating of lipstick and a thick dusting of eyeliner, her mother, in contrast stood starkly unadorned, and yet somehow all the more radiant for it.

James hurried to make her acquaintance, holding out his hand in formal – if a little awkward – greeting.

'Oh, none of that dear, we hug around these parts.' And James found himself wrapped up in a decadently floral embrace, cut through with undertones of some kind of spiced wine. Frankly, he was a little disappointed when it ended.

'It's lovely to meet you,' James managed to force out. Had the night suddenly become much hotter?

'Can I get you a drink, darlings?' Miss Mansfield offered, gesturing to a glass she was halfway through drinking. It was filled with a rich, reddish liquid.

'James has to hurry back home, mother,' Odette explained. 'I'm just going to show him the… view from my bedroom.'

Odette's mother favoured the pair of them with a very knowing smile that left James feeling as foolish as if he'd forgotten to wear trousers. He felt his ears burning, and was infinitely grateful for Odette latching onto his hand and tugging him up the stairs.

'I'll have a glass when we're finished, mother,' she called back. 'And perhaps a bath.'

The husky laughter that followed them up the staircase was positively scandalous.

Odette could contain herself no longer as she burst through a doorway on the landing. She collapsed on her bed in a fit of giggles like a little first-year who'd overdone it on Cheering Charms. 'Oh, the look on your face,' she gasped, struggling for breath.

'I thought your parents would be, you know… out.'

Odette straightened up and carefully wiped away a tear. 'It's just mum and me. She was, but we stayed at yours much later than planned. Oh, and that reminds me-'

And without any further warning, Odette leaned over, grabbed a pillow from atop her bed and thwacked James over the head with it.

'Ow! What was that for?'

'I saw you looking at my mother!'

'Shove off! I was just… just-'

'At least I know that you'll still think I'm good-looking in twenty years' time.'

'I-' James froze up. In twenty years' time? Together? He'd never thought that far ahead.

Odette saw his hesitation before he could cover for himself. He saw the shadow of something like disappointment flicker across her face, and she turned toward the window, taking a step away from James as she did so.

'You can see the Ministry of Magic from here, look,' she gestured, changing the subject suddenly.

James scrambled to his feet and peered avidly out the window, eager to make amends for the hurt he'd just delivered.

'Which building is it?' he asked. The view was impressive – well over the tops of the nearby apartments, it afforded a twinkling vista of crowded cityscape in central London.

'That one just there, with the domed roof. The Muggles see it as a big old apartment building. They never wonder why they don't see people going in or out. I guess it's Charmed that way. I don't know what's really in it, only that it sits over the main part of the Ministry. There's loads of witches and wizards living in the apartment buildings all around here.'

And even as James was studying it, he saw the lights in the windows flicker out. Blackness enshrouded the building, followed shortly after by a sweeping wave that left many of the glinting windows across the neighbourhood suddenly blank. Without warning, the light in Odette's room flickered out, as well.

'Oh,' James remarked. 'Must be an eckel- electricity breakdown.'

'Can't be,' Odette breathed, suddenly very close. 'Look, the street lights are still working. All those houses – the ones without the lights on – they're the magical houses.'

And sure enough, even through the sudden gloom, James noted that Odette didn't have one of the glowing bulbs the Muggles favoured, nor were there any of the funny switches that littered their walls. It had been magic lighting the house.

James peered once more out the window. It seemed an even deeper shadow had settled across the Ministry building, one that set it apart even from the dull, yawning blacknesses that Odette said marked the wizarding homes all across the neighbourhood. James supressed a shudder. If he ever had to step foot in that building again, it would be too soon.

'Anyway,' Odette said, pulling him away from the window, and back to face her. 'For what we're about to do, we don't need lighting.'

And any thought or sense of dread that James might have felt upon looking at the inky façade of the Ministry building was swept away in the wild torrent of desire that overcame him. He dove toward Odette, without care for her delicately-woven hair, her precious necklaces or gaudy earrings. His eagerness spoke volumes of his affections, and Odette laughed musically as they tumbled and tussled among the sheets for a moment. Until, struck by a sudden thought, James pulled up, frozen.

'I can't do this,' he announced.

Odette studied him, perplexed. Her ornate braids had become dishevelled. Her dress hung down off one shoulder, revealing a shimmer of mint green lace. 'Whatever for?'

'Your mum…' he trailed off, and scrubbed at his lips, pulling the back of his hand away covered in a deep red smear. 'She's down there. She knows.'

'She doesn't mind.'

'But it's weird.'

Odette gave an overly-dramatic sigh, flumping back onto her pillows and staring up at the ceiling. 'Fine. If there truly is no persuading you...'

'Another time,' James offered. 'When she's not here. When she doesn't know. When she can't hear.'

'Think of the state you're to leave me in, James,' Odette chided. A blush of colour shone high on her cheeks. 'I shan't be able to sleep tonight, that's for sure. It's hardly a fitting state for a lady.'

'Well then, find a time for your mum to be out.'

Odette was fanning herself with a decorative pillow. 'I'll spirit her away for a night and a day, if that's what it takes. But, fair warning, we know each other far too well. She's going to guess that something is up.'

James smiled, and barely hesitated before saying, 'That's the girl I know and love.'

It was worth all the awkwardness of the night so far, and plenty more, to boot, to see the look of unbridled shock skitter across Odette's face, before she could reign herself in.

He was further rewarded with a warm, genuine smile that made Odette's eyes glimmer and dance in the gloom of her darkened room as she whispered softly, 'Goodnight, James.'

With that, James hurried downstairs, bade a hasty farewell to Mrs. Mansfield, and bundled himself into the fireplace, checking his watch every couple of seconds to see just how late he was. His parents were going to murder him.

And so, any thought of the mysterious magical outage around the Ministry was easily pushed from his mind, its potential significance faded into nothingness. James noted no further complications with travelling via Floo, no greasy smear of looming purple-black bruising marred the virulent green light that shepherded him all the way home and tossed him out on to a lounge room floor directly in front of both of his parents, standing with identical steely expressions and tightly folded arms. Ginny's foot was tapping rapidly upon the carpet.

Oh, dear.

'Before you say anything,' James hastened to head off what he was sure to be a severe dressing-down. 'I only took so long because I had to stay and speak with Odette's mother. It would have been rude to just leave again so soon…'

He trailed off a little lamely. In the shadowy corner of the living room, he could make out both Al and Lily, peering around the doorframe, unabashed glee writ all across their faces. He skewered them with his filthiest look for good measure.

'Is that so, James?' Harry asked. His lips were pressed into a thin, pale line. There was an odd glint in his eyes, obscured though they were behind his spectacles. James couldn't be sure if it was irate or merry.

'Y-yes, she offered me a glass of- of wine, I think.' The best lies, after all, were steeped in the truth.

There was a very pregnant pause, before Ginny finally sighed and spoke, 'And at which point during this polite glass of wine, did Mrs. Mansfield leave her bright red lipstick all over you?'

James' mouth fell open. He scrubbed at his lips again, he'd been sure he'd removed most of that.

'Nah-uh,' Harry uttered. And this time James was adamant it was a twinkle of mirth in his eyes, as his father slowly raised his hand and pointed to his own neck.

James spun in horror to face the mirror mounted on the mantelpiece. He saw, clear as day, the bright, red, traitorous trail of Odette's lipstick running down his jawline, past his collarbone, and disappearing beneath his shirt. He was only glad his parents couldn't' see just how far down it went.

'Shit.'

And that was how James Potter saw himself grounded for the entire second half of the summer holidays.