I keep pausing in writing every now and then to get up and walk around. I tell you, carrying a baby in your stomache really kills your back, but sitting down for ages is worse. My bubby keeps giving little kicks of protest. I don't know if it's a boy or a girl, yet, and I really don't want to. Oh, anyway, the best Quidditch game I'd ever seen! It was one of the first in seventh year. James was Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, so it definitely shows how many people thought he was the greatest thing to ever grace Hogwarts. I, on the other hand, knew he wasn't although, despite myself, I was coming to like him. A lot. So often I'd find myself mentally slapping my head and thinking 'stop it, it's James, think back to when he was a brat!'

Because he had definitely grown up.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the first game of Quidditch, a game of skill and determination between Slytherin and Gryffindor, a fight off on who's better, although we already know that Gryffindor has at least a hint of honour-.'

'Hart!'

'Sorry, Professor, but you have to admit, the Slytherins are nothing more than a bunch of s-.'

'HART!'

'And they're off!' Susan Hart bellowed as Professor McGonagall shook her head in despair, with a wink at her boyfriend, Trevor Jordan, who was laughing a few seats away from me, clad in gold and crimson. 'Gryffindor in possession, Potter, Finch, Walsh, back to Finch, whoa, nice swerve from Potter there as a Slytherin bludger narrowly misses his… ahem, anyway, Potter back in possession, heading for the goals… SCORE! Ten to nothing, zip, zilch, ha, Slytherin sucks!'

'Hart, one more bias comment…'

'Look, Professor, it's a fact of life, they didn't save, therefore they suck, Slytherin in possession, now…'

I winced as James ducked around yet another bludger and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Slytherin beaters motion to each other. This couldn't be good, Slytherins' communicating is never a good sign.

'Whoa, what's going on here? Is that legal?' Susan was on her feet as the two Slytherin beaters, Crabbe and Paulos began to widely circle James and continuously belt bludgers just at him as he clutched the quaffle. He ducked and dived, missing every one. I gasped as he darted upwards and threw the quaffle over the head of Crabbe and Finch caught it, then zoomed back up the pitch towards the Slytherin goals. With a roar of outrage I heard clearly so many feet below, Paulos sent one last bludger at James. And hit him squarely in the back.

Sirius, Peter, Remus, Hannah, Sam, Aoife and I all leapt to our feet in horror as James flew forwards off his broom. I heard Aoife scream but my eyes stayed locked open as James' flailing hand gripped the brush of his broom. He hung there for a moment and I felt like I was going to faint. Then another bludger skimmed past his feet. Sirius blurted out a string of obscenities, some of which I'd never heard before. Susan was beside herself, the microphone in her hand as she skipped as far away from McGonagall as possible.

'LEAVE HIM ALONE, YOU SON OF A B-.'

The Professor didn't even look at Susan, she was too busy shaking her fist at Crabbe, her glasses almost slipping off the end of her nose. My nails were digging into my palms as Slytherin scored again and again, the Gryffindor keeper, Stine, nursing a bleeding hand as she did her utmost to stop the quaffle.

I could see the trails of sweat down James' face as he began to lift on hand over the other until he was gripping the handle in the middle. His legs kicked out, back, out, back and he swung. Not high enough. His body jerked back down and his hands slipped again. Now both of my hands were clamped over my mouth. One more gigantic effort, one more huge swing. His leg hooked up on the handle and he hauled himself up, resting for just a moment, head down, and then he lowered his body down along the length of the broom and shot forwards. The Gryffindor crowd went nuts. I have never before witnessed something like that, such an eruption of noise. It took me a moment to realize it wasn't just the red and gold crowd that was cheering, but Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw too. So long as Slytherin lost.

James weaved between the players and his head snapped up for one moment. I followed his gaze and saw both Seekers, Fretich and Lance, pelting along the length of the pitch, both laying flat along their broom.

'They've seen the snitch!' Susan shrieked as James, once again, caught the quaffle and shot it through a hoop. Fifty to twenty, Slytherin in front. Lance had to catch this snitch or we were dead. I must have been the only person in the crowd not watching the seekers duck into a thirty foot dive, my eyes locked on James as a bludger flew under his arm and he laughed, shooting and scoring again.

'Lance has caught the snitch! GRYFFINDOR WIN!'

If I had thought the crowd went crazy before, when James had swung back onto his broom, it was nothing, nothing compared to now.

I stood and watched as Sirius and Remus vaulted the barrier, racing out onto the pitch, ready to cheer and clap James on the back, Peter jumping up and down, face bright with excitement. It seemed to me, more and more, that Peter fed off the others. Kissed ass. Aoife and Hannah were hinging each other and Sammy had her hands cupped around her mouth, whooping with delight.

I, on the other hand, stood stock still, face still pale, even I knew that, and my hands were clutched together shaking, despite the fact that I was willing myself to be calm. Later, in the common room, I sat quietly, letting the loud conversation, jokes and celebration wash over me. Thoughts were racing through my mind and the picture of James, hanging so high in the air, his life clinging by a thread, by his hand gripping the broom so tightly, and the fact that I'd figured out, so bloody suddenly, that he had, after all, changed and I was the one who was the childish, stupid, idiotic one who hadn't realized what was staring me right in the face.

'A life without love is no life at all…'

My mother used to say that. When I was little. Sometimes she'd say it and beam at my father and he'd blush like a boy and look down at his hands, a silly grin on his face. I often wondered if they'd ever grown up. I'd had a shot at the big time and I hadn't seen it. God, I'd been an idiot!

Never one for romance, I must've said that somewhere in here… yes, I did, I just flicked back through the pages. Never one for romance, but I hadn't planned on this. You don't crave romance, it just is or it isn't. In this case, my romance was the horrible feeling that I'd missed my chance and the best thing that might have happened to me was now unattainable. I'd been a fool, stubborn, a brat and way too sure of myself. And now, because of my pride, I'd lost James, if I'd ever had him.

He was standing across the room, drinking butterbeer with the other Marauders. I saw him glance over the top of his drink and a slight frown appear between his eyes. I didn't see his jaw drop open in surprise and disappointment. I had already turned and marched up the stairs before my stupid feelings got the better of me.