The icy wind pushed against James Potter's back as he embraced the feeling of flying on a broomstick. This was the last game of the season; the last game of his seventh year at Hogwarts; the last Hogwarts quidditch cup game he would ever be able to play a part in; possibly even his last game of quidditch.

Recent words of his friends echoed in his mind.

"You have to do well, James… You don't want all those bad memories of doing horribly on the last quidditch game you played at Hogwarts, do you?"

"Loosen up! Life isn't as serious as you make it seem."

"If we win: ask her; if we lose: forget it; not meant to be."

A pain clenched in his stomach as he took his broomstick into a dive. With his eyes he followed a bludger searching for a player to knock of their broom and then a beater driving it off from a team-mate and then head towards another victim. The quaffle was in Slytherin's possession but they hadn't yet scored so no hope was lost. In the depths of his mind James could hear the snitch fluttering about and zooming every which way.

Looking around to make sure it hadn't been the real snitch he had heard he saw one of the giant squid's tentacles reach out of the glittering lake water and sink back in. Memories flooded through his mind and squeezed at his heart.

A distant buzzing sound was growing larger and a flash of gold hit the corner of his eye. Without a second to spare he took off after the snitch. A mixture of angry shouts and joyous cheers exploded from the stands as he extended his right arm to grab the snitch. His fingers could feel the rapid flapping of its wings and he was closing in on it.

The Slytherin seeker, Robert Sterling, seized James's free wrist, twisted it, pulling James off his broom, the aggressive Slytherin seeker still holding onto James's aching wrist. "You're not going to win. You blew your only chance."

With his right hand James had a firm grip on his wand. "You dare lark against me? Accio!" He grabbed his broomstick as it rushed towards him and jumped on. "If it's a fight you want then it's a fight you shall have. But I have a strict list of priorities beginning with winning this quidditch match and ending with this fight you desire. G'day, then." James stalled with a quick stinging charm at Sterling's shin and with a wave was once again off in search for the snitch.

Before long a timeout was called by Regant, Gryffindor's captain. He called injury and took James into the dugout.

"What the bloody hell happened, James?" Regant asked ferociously.

"It was nothing," James said frivolously. "Just a bit of a skirmish."

"Sterling had you hanging by your wrist," Regant replied half-heartedly. "Which is sprained. Which could lose us the MATCH."

"Let me have a look, James," said a voice that roused James from his arrogant words.

Lily Evans stepped over to James and met his eyes. For that brief moment he felt no pain. When Lily looked down at James's wrist he felt a stinging pain return. She laid her index finger on the swelling part of his wrist and murmured a few words. James's wrist glistened a vivid blue.

"Your wrist better?" Regant asked. James nodded. "Then get back out there and win this damn game."

"Yessir."

James caught hold of Lily's eyes and took hold of her hands.

"Your girlfriend can wait, the game can't," Regant yelled from outside. "Get out here now!"

Together James and Lily left the dugout, hand-in-hand. "Providence to you," Lily breathed. James took her into his arms to kiss her, and as they caressed there was a din of soft-hearted comments from several of the spectators high in the stands.

As James took hold of his broomstick he watched Lily head back to the stands with her long, auburn hair flowing behind her. He mounted his broom as the shrill of a whistle resumed the game. His mind was drifting every which way though in the end it resulted in thoughts of Lily. Lately she had been acting peculiarly. Her once opinionated and outspoken self had vanished and was replaced with a mysteriously quiet deity. It was frustrating not being able to know what had caused such a sudden and drastic change in the woman he loved.

Gryffindor was in possession of the quaffle though Slytherin had in their control both bludgers. James caught glance of Sterling to see him speeding after none other than the golden snitch, heading straight towards James. Without moving his broom James snatched the snitch from under Sterling's nose. "You lose."

At that exact moment two bludgers were heading straight for James; one to his direct left and one from his direct right. A smirk appeared on James's face and he remained still until the bludgers were separated by only a meter and James. He dove straight down and jumped off his broom. The bludgers crashed into each other and fell on either side of James.

Gryffindors from the team and the stands were running over to James, disheveling his already unkempt hair and tackling him to the ground.

After a long while of joyous turmoil James met up with Sirius and Remus. "Where's Peter gone?"

Remus shrugged. "Left halfway through the game—"

"Said he wasn't feeling well—" Sirius continued.

"He'd be in the hospital wing, then?"

"Looked for 'im there, hadn't been there at all," Remus said while yawning and stretching. "So where's Lily?"

James grimaced, "haven't seen her since Sterling sprained my wrist. Have you seen her since then?"

"Sorry," Sirius and Remus chimed. Sirius cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should get to the common room before it rains?"

Remus laughed. "There aren't any rainclou—" Sirius hit him.

The three of them plodded through the halls, each singing a different tune. When they reached the Fat Lady she too began singing. "Let us in or I will kick your shin," Sirius added to his jingle.

"Not a chance, hold your pants," the Fat Lady replied with her tune.

The three Marauders burst out laughing. "I'm sure going to miss all the childish things we did here," James sighed. "Will I never be able to gloat as much?"

"Doubt it," Sirius grinned. "Only the quiet ones turn out famous."

"Are you calling James bigheaded?" Remus asked, his eyes wide with sarcasm.

"I only have rancor towards myself, the brute that I was," James sobbed.

"—and are…"

"…always will be…"

"Waif ragamuffin."

The Fat Lady swung open, laughing, with a burst of sound coming from the Gryffindor common room, nearly knocking over James, Remus, and Sirius forcing them to back up and turn their heads dramatically to lay eyes on the fourth and final Marauder, Peter Pettigrew.

"Wormy! Where've ya been?"

"Hospital wing," he muttered, turning his head all which ways seeming to be looking for something.

Remus and Sirius exchanged skeptical glances while James tried to ignore the fact that Peter was lying. "Er—have you seen Lily at all?" Peter shook his head.

"She's probably in the common room, c'mon let's go look for her," Sirius shoved James into the opening behind the Fat Lady's portrait. He shoved James until both were lying on the floor in the common room.

The two restless Marauders stood from the floor and looked around. There were empty butter beer bottles all over, desks and chairs were turned over or in awkward places, very few partiers were left in the common room.

"Diner time already?" Peter asked. "I'm hungry, let's go."

"You can go, Wormy," James said. "I believe I'll stay behind for I haven't got an appetite tonight."

"Suit yourself," Peter said and scurried out of the common room.

Remus vanished into the dormitory for a moment to return holding a piece of parchment in his hand. He threw it to James and left the common room, Sirius following. "See you later."