A/N: (squirms) I'm a horrible updater. You all know this. By now, you must expect it. Me not updating for five and a half months probably never even crossed your minds….right? (gulps hard as she is poked by a pitchfork)

Oh man. I'm dead, aren't I?

Before you whip out the phones, and call up the Mafia to place a hit, let me tell you one thing.

We're at the end, yo. No, seriously. I am not pulling your leg. This is the last chapter. (Well, there's an epilogue after, but still—) The absolute last chapter.

Sure it took me two years, seven months, and twenty-eight days—as of June 23rd, 2005, but y'all, I FINALLY FINISHED.

Enjoy the story. Any mistakes in the Quidditch section can be blamed on the fact that I couldn't find my copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, and didn't want to make you guys wait.


As James finished telling his tale, Sirius shook his head. "Who ever thought Evans could be a tease?" he said admiringly. "I'm impressed, James."

"So, what happens now?" Peter asked.

James threw up his hands. "Damned if I know," he said mournfully. "That girl's got my head spinning every which way."

"So, things are pretty much normal there," Remus said dryly.

Just then, the door banged open. "I can't believe you!" Brian Waldon declared as he burst in with a bunch of other boys behind him, fourth-years and up. Adam Walsh and Matt Hunter were with them as well.

James looked at Sirius. "Have we pulled any pranks lately that might have pissed some people off?"

Sirius shook his head. "Are you kidding me? What with Quidditch and Bella and the O.W.L.s coming up, I don't have time for mischief-making!"

"It's a sad day when a Marauder utters those words," Remus said mournfully.

"Tell me about it," Sirius muttered. "Sure, I throw the occasional Dungbomb, but it's just not the same—"

"You and Evans!" Brian crowed, pounding James on the back wildly. "It's all over the school that the two of you were snogging in the library. Fess up, Potter, is she your girlfriend now or what?"

Dumbfounded, James's mouth fell open.


"There is nothing going on that you need to know about!" Lily insisted, her voice high and rather hysterical.

This was not happening. This was not happening! How could this be happening! She had been in control, things were going well—and now everything was messed-up!

Denise scoffed. "Oh, please. Don't even try to deny it."

"All right, Lily," Karen ordered. "I want to hear everything."

"I can't believe you didn't tell us," Denise pouted. "I would have told you."

Arabella snorted. "Please, you would have told everybody. It's Lily's life, and she'd rather not have the details of it spread across the school, thanks."

"Too late," Karen said smugly. "We heard it from Eliza Velden, and you know she's the biggest gossip in school. Everyone already knows, so why hide the details?"

Alarmed, Frank and Arabella looked at Lily, who sank down onto the bed.

This. Was. Not. Happening!

Lily let out a pathetic whimper, and Arabella took charge. "All right, that's it, out. Out, out, out!"

She hustled the other girls out of there, despite their protests—

"It's our domitory, too--"

"Arabella, inquiring minds want to know!"

—and slammed the door shut, then grabbed her wand, and immediately put a ward on the doorknob. "Ugh," she groaned.

Lily finally found her voice. "What's the matter with them?" she demanded. "Why can't they just get their own lives and stop paying so much attention to mine?"

Frank appeared to be seriously considering it. "Well, really, they don't need to get their own lives. Not when your life is just so entertaining."

Lily threw a pillow at him.


"It's none of your bloody business!" James burst out. "So all of you can just bugger off!"

The other boys groaned. "Oh, come on, mate," one of them called out. "First you go with her to the ball, then you're sighted snogging—is she off the market or what?"

"Because if she's still on the market," another boy interjected, "I'd like to have a go, if you know what I mean."

James stared at the boy for a moment, then said briskly, "Right, where's my wand?"

As James simultaneously looked for his wand and tried to decide which painful and/or embarrassing hex to use, Sirius stood up on his bed and declared, "Right then, that's it! Get out before James hexes all of you to bits!"

The room cleared out rather quickly after that. The Marauders and Frank stared at the door for a moment, then Remus went over and kicked the door shut. "What the bloody hell was that?" he demanded.

"How did they find out?" Peter wondered.

"Forget that," James said angrily, "What the hell did they mean by saying Lily was still on the market?"

"Well…is she?" Peter asked, and was rewarded with a sharp nudge by Remus. "What?"

"Ignore him, Prongs," Sirius said quickly.

James's eyes were wide in horror. "What if she isn't off the market?" he asked. "Maybe she's just waiting around and settling for me until she finds someone else she likes better—"

Remus groaned. "Oh, here we go again."


"They're crazy," Lily declared.

"No kidding," Frank said. "Like it or not, Lily, you and James are the school celebrities."

Lily stared at him in horror. "But—but I don't want to be!"


The next day, James met Lily outside under the big tree right by the lake. "Hey. Frank said you'd be here."

Lily smiled up at him, and as always, James felt his heart thump. He sank down in the grass next to her. "So, I hear we snogged in the library. You know anything about that?"

Lily laughed, then groaned. "I could kill Eliza Velden."

"Oh, please don't," James begged. "We can't beat Slytherin with our star chaser in Azkaban. And you don't want me to pine for you any more than I already have, do you?"

Lily blushed, but teased, "Oh, but you pine so well…"

"Don't I know it!"

She laughed at that, and James grinned happily. A beautiful girl who laughed at his jokes, loved Quidditch, could put up with his friends and him—

She was perfect. Now, if only she was his.

He had to ask. "Lily…"

"Yes?"

He took a breath. "Are we…you know…exclusive?"

Lily blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Like…if there's another bloke who wants to ask you out—"

Her mouth fell open slightly. "James," Lily said, clearly shocked, "of course we're exclusive—unless…is there someone…for you?"

"No!" James protested hastily. "No, no—there's no one else—I just…wanted to make sure…you know…that there wasn't anyone else for you."

Good Lord, he thought, could he be any more incoherent?

Lily relaxed a little. "Good. Because, you know, there's no one else for me either."

James grinned at that, he couldn't help it. Quickly, he kissed her on the mouth. When he pulled back, Lily was blushing and unable to look him in the eye.

Yep, she was perfect all right. A beautiful girl who laughed at his jokes, loved Quidditch, could put up with his friends and him—and she was all his.

Even if they weren't technically dating yet.


"Let's run off to Fiji," Diane declared suddenly as she and Frank walked through the hallways.

Frank blinked. "Fiji?"

"Yeah. We'll eat coconuts and live in a hut!" Diane said brightly.

Frank looked at his girlfriend knowingly. "This wouldn't have anything to do with avoiding the O.W.Ls, now would it?"

Diane blinked. "Well…how important is magic, anyway? Muggles don't have it, and they get along just fine."

Frank stared at her. "Diane, think. Do you really want to cook the Muggle way? Clean house the Muggle way?"

Diane blinked, and said thoughtfully, "On second thought…"

"Exactly," Frank said smugly.

Someone bumped into Frank, and a hissing voice said in his ear, "Better tell that Mudblood friend of yours to watch out."

Before Frank could grab onto them, could even say anything, the person was gone. "Hey!" Frank yelled out, twisting around to look for them—but the person, whoever they'd been, had already disappeared into the crowd.

"Frank?" Diane looked at him with worried eyes. "What is it?"

Breathlessly, he repeated what the other person had said. "Oh, no," Diane said, horrified. "This—this is bad."

"Yeah," Frank groaned.


"You're overreacting," Lily declared firmly later that day in the common room.

"Lily," Frank started, but she wasn't hearing it.

"All of you have lost your minds," Lily insisted. "For heaven's sake, what can they do to me? Call me a Mudblood? I hate to break it to you, but they already do that."

"But what if they try to sabotage us?" Adam asked. "Come on, they're Slytherins, we all know they'll stoop to anything in order to win!"

"Oh, really? Like what?"

Rebecca cut in. "They could mess with your broom, they could put a hex on you—"

"So, what am I supposed to do then?" Lily demanded in frustration. "Spend every waking moment looking over my shoulder. Look, I appreciate the concern, but I've got O.W.Ls to worry about, not to mention the final match itself—I don't need to be turning paranoid about Slytherin plots too!"

She turned to James for support, only to find him nodding in agreement with the rest. "Hang on, Lily, they might have a point—"

Lily threw up her hands. "Oh, no, James—you seriously can't agree with this insanity!"

James shrugged. "Lily, we have to at least consider the possibility—" He turned to the others. "What's the plan?"

Lily sulked. "Traitor," she muttered.

"Nope, just a concerned captain."


The so-called 'plan' was apparently designed to drive Lily insane. Every class she went to, every trip to the library, the bathroom, every time she stepped out of Gryffindor Tower, she was surrounded by 'bodyguards'. A loud, annoying bunch of bodyguards.

And worst of all, news had spread around that the team was worried about Lily, and now everyone was getting involved. Every day, Lily was presented with new protection spells, amulets to ward off evil—

The stress was starting to get to her. On more than one occasion, she'd snapped at people, including James, who she barely got to see anymore.

Well, she did see him, of course—in class, at the study sessions, at practice, which was getting more grueling than ever. But they never had a chance to talk. They were too busy cramming, or practicing Quidditch maneuvers.

Quidditch. Lily wanted to say she wasn't worried about it—but that would be a lie. She was worried, scared stiff—she had nightmares about it, for Merlin's sake.

The trick, she had decided, was to stay busy. And considering her unbelievable schedule, that wasn't so hard.

But still—there were the little things. Like the glares she'd get from the Slytherin team in the hallways. Once their Beater, Dewitt, just grinned at her evilly. Then he slid his finger across his throat in a universal gesture.

Lily had looked away, shuddering.

It would be all right, she told herself over and over again. It would be all right.

Besides, a part of her thought wryly, if she backed out now, she wouldn't have to worry about the Slytherin team pulverizing her. Her own teammates would handle that on their own.


Three days before the final, Professor McGonagall made Lily stay after class. "Ms. Evans," she began without preamble, "I've noticed that you seem to be a bit…preoccupied lately. Is there anything wrong?"

Lily shook her head. "No," she said automatically.

McGonagall just raised an eyebrow, and Lily relented. "Other than the fact that I'm completely unprepared for the O.W.Ls, the biggest Quidditch game of the year is in three days, and everyone is convinced there's a Slytherin—"

"—conspiracy to sabotage you before the game," McGonagall finished, nodding. "I heard that too."

Lily blinked. "Er…okay. Anyway, if I think about it, I become petrified. If I don't think about it, I'm just terrified. I can't win either way."

McGonagall smiled gently at her. "Ms. Evans, as someone who has followed the game of Quidditch for quite some time, you're quite talented."

Someday, Lily would figure out how to take a compliment without blushing. "Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall patted her awkwardly on the arm. "You'll do just fine," she promised.


"You're scared, aren't you?" Arabella asked later that night in the dormitory. "It's alright if you are."

Lily didn't say anything for a minute. "I'm starting to wish I hadn't joined the team," she admitted. "This—was exactly what I was afraid of, you know. This specific game."

"Lily, you're amazing when you get out there," Arabella encouraged. "You'll be fine—"

"I wish people would stop saying that!" Lily burst out. "You don't know I'll be fine, Bella. For all you know, I could choke out there. Or I could take a bat to the head like Donovan did." She stared at her best friend. "I could miss a goal, I could miss five goals. Or I could fall, like I did last time. You don't know."

They were silent for a long moment. Arabella was shocked, Lily was just weary.

She hadn't remembered falling—that one time, in the game against Ravenclaw. She didn't remember falling, but she could imagine it.

She didn't like what she imagined.

Finally, Arabella said, "When I said that you'll be fine, I meant it. I know you'll be alright because you're you. You're Lily Evans. I've never seen you fail at anything you tried. You're a brilliant player, and you'll be fine. I know."

"Thanks," Lily whispered.


It was funny, how things like this worked. Time, for Lily, moved too slowly and too fast at the same time. Impossible, but true. The day of the game seemed like it would never come, and also as if it were approaching too quickly.

Impossible, but that was how it felt.

But like all events that are dreaded, the day of the match finally came.


"You're not going to throw up?" Adam asked Matt quietly.

Matt shook his head, his eyes wide and his face pinched and white. "Uh-uh. Too scared to vomit this time. Can't figure out if that's a good thing or not."

James was pacing by himself in the locker room. Going over the plays in his head, he almost didn't notice Lily approaching. Almost, because it was Lily and he always knew when she was around.

Even in the utter silence of the room, Lily's whisper could barely be heard. "I can't do this."

James looked up at that. "What? Lily—of course you can."

She shook her head, and something told James that this time was different. "No, James, you don't understand," she said, her voice high and panicky. "I can't do this—I can't—they'll kill me out there. I'll—I'll just disappoint you—"

"Hey, hey," James said, quickly taking her over to a corner so the others couldn't hear. "You'll be fine. Anyone tries to mess with you out there, they'll have to go through me first." He took her hand. "Lily," he said softly, "what are you afraid of?"

She swallowed. "I'm—afraid I'll screw up, that I'll do something wrong. I'm not so afraid of getting hurt, I mean there's only so much they can do, right?" She started to laugh a little. "It's not like they can take an ax to my head or release a hundred blood-sucking Transylvanian bats from underneath their robes."

"No, they definitely can't do that," James said, smiling. She'd cracked a joke, she couldn't be that freaked out.

"What if I screw up?" Lily whispered, green eyes wide and so afraid.

"Then you screw up," James said matter-of-factly. "Lily, if you tell anyone this I'll kill you and deny it until I'm blue in the face, but Quidditch is not the be-all, end-all of the universe. If we lose this match—not that we will—it won't be the end of the world. I promise."

Lily looked at him. "It's just—"

"Just what?"

"I don't want to disappoint you," she admitted, looking down at her shoes. "I don't want to let you down, and if I go out there, I'm sure I will—"

On an impulse James couldn't have checked even if he'd wanted to, he kissed her on the mouth, quickly, gently. "Lily," he breathed, his mouth a centimeter from hers, "you could never do that. Ever."

She gave him a shaky smile. "But—"

"But nothing," James said, straightening and smiling at her reassuringly. "So relax and go out there and cream those Slytherin bastards."


"Aaand here come the Gryffindor team!" the announcer roared. "Potter, Black, Hornridge, Walsh, Hunter, Kingsley, and Evans! Brilliant team, absolutely brilliant, and for those of you out there who don't know Eliza Velden, it is rumoured that the lovely Ms. Evans and the mischievous Mr. Potter are an item. Sorry, ladies and gents, that means they're both taken."

Three-fourths of the crowd was dressed in Gryffindor crimson and gold. The din was deafening.

And at that moment, at that precise moment, Lily finally got it. At that moment, all of the fear, the irrational, paralyzing fear—it was gone.

She was actually glad she was out here. If she hadn't agreed to try out for the team…she'd be in the stands, wondering what would have happened if she'd had the courage to try out. And she would have been telling herself it would have been for the best, but really she would have just regretted it—

But she was out here, on her broom—and she was going to be just fine.

Suddenly filled with confidence, Lily took her place on the pitch. "All right, Lily?" Melissa hollered, and Lily nodded, giving her teammate the thumbs-up.

"Here come the Slytherin team," the announcer declared, with markedly less enthusiasm. "Rosier, Dewitt, McNally, Parkinson, Caine, Deveraux, and DiMera! Let's see if they can refrain from cheating like they've done at every other match this year."


Apparently the Slytherins couldn't refrain from cheating. Or to be more accurate, they just didn't want to.

Melissa was carrying the Quaffle and zooming toward the Slytherin goal, when Parkinson, one of the Slytherin Beaters, slammed into her from the side. Melissa, dazed, did a somersault in the air, and dropped the Quaffle.

The crowd booed, and Madam Hooch flew up to them, looking extremely put out. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor!" she yelled. "Parkinson, this is the second time you've smashed into a player, if you can't manage to—"

"Deliberate, disgusting attack on Hornridge," the announcer declared. "Disgusting, absolutely disgusting—and Hornridge takes the penalty shot—and McNally saves it, bloody hell…" The announcer sighed. "Gryffindor leads, 20 to zero, thank Merlin—hey, what's this?" The announcer blinked as a note was passed to him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I've just received a note from Frank Longbottom, and he would like to remind his fellow Gryffindors on the team that he's apparently, and I quote, 'placed 50 Galleons on you prats to win, and if you don't pick up the bloody pace and score there'll be hell to pay'," The announcer chuckled.

"Longbottom!" McGonagall yelled. "Gambling is expressly forbidden, you know that—"

"Longbottom is just getting chewed out by Professor McGonagall right now, and let's get back to the action, shall we?"


Twenty minutes later, Slytherin had scored, making the score 20-10. Lily had the Quaffle and was racing towards the Slytherin goal posts, Deveraux hot on her heels. He caught up to her, and they were racing side by side now, their knees knocking against each other.

"Filthy little Mudblood," Deveraux hissed.

But his insult didn't have the effect he'd intended. Lily just gave him a tight smile, and shot back, "This 'filthy little Mudblood'—"

She feinted to the right quickly, then threw the Quaffle, and scored.

"—is kicking your arses," she finished smugly.

"Evans SCORES!" the announcer boomed over the cheering of the crowd. "Brilliant play, sheer brilliance—"

Lily was close enough to see the rage on McNally's face, but she didn't care too much.

I'm going to be just fine.

And this time, when the Bludger came zooming her way, sent by Dewitt, Lily was able to duck.


It was forty-five minutes into the game when Matt got his brilliant idea. Flying past the Slytherin seeker, who was twice his size, Matt made a face at him and took off. The Slytherin Seeker, Caine, followed.

Matt made his move and suddenly dived at an almost-vertical slant. Reaching his hand out as if he were going after the Snitch—

Come on, come on, you nasty Slytherin prat, follow me, follow me

"And the seekers are in a dive now, let's see who comes out of this with the Snitch, or even alive—"

The ground rushing up to meet him, Matt pulled out of the dive at the very last minute, and his knees just brushed the grass.

Caine wasn't as lucky. He—plowed into the ground, just slammed into it—and for a split-second, Matt almost felt sorry for the poor bloke.

Almost.

"Wronski Feint!" the announcer howled, as shocked as everyone else. "That is the Wronski Feint done right, my friends, stupendous—and Madam Pomfrey is checking out Caine—the Gryffindor team is mobbing Hunter, the hero of the hour—"

"You are insane!" Sirius was screaming at him. "You are utterly insane and completely brilliant, you know that!"


The game continued, of course. A Quidditchmatch didn't end just because one of the Seekers had slammed into the ground. Caine was back on his broom, but he seemed to be rather disoriented. He weaved about erratically, looking very dazed.

"I think it's a safe bet to say Caine is out of the game," the announcer said. "Of course, Matt Hunter caught the Snitch in another game after a very similar hit—but I think it's safe to say Caine isn't half the Seeker Hunter is—"

"Piss off!" Deveraux yelled back.

"—and an embittered Deveraux just zoomed by, ooh, and Parkinson has just chucked his club at Black, it just hit him in the head—"

At this point, Lily could practically hear the outraged shrieking of one Arabella Figg over the boos of the crowd.

"—and Kingsley, in defense of her fellow Beater, has just slammed a Bludger towards Parkinson, it's hit him in the stomach—that's the way to do it, Rebecca!"

"Penalty shot, Gryffindor!"

Melissa took the shot, and—

"40-10, Gryffindor!"

DiMera snatched the Quaffle, but then James snatched the Quaffle right out of DiMera's arm, and flew off before he could react.

"HAH!" the announcer cheered. "Wonderful steal by Potter, and he makes the goal! 50-10, Gryffindor leading—DiMera, humiliated, takes the Quaffle—he's going towards the Gryffindor goal posts—come on, Walsh!—and he saves it! Evans has got the Quaffle now, she's going back—and she makes the goal! 60-10 to Gryffindor!"


Frank was actually dancing in the stands. "That's how you bloody do it!" he howled. "I swear on Merlin's beard, if you prats lose me my Galleons, I'll have your heads!"

Arabella smacked him. "You idiot, that's no way to encourage them!"

"—and Black's just sent a Bludger towards Parkinson as retaliation—oooh! It hit him square in the face," the announcer yelled, "—and Parkinson's nose is bleeding—"

"Hah!" Arabella screamed. "Take that, you cheating berks!"

"What, calling names is the way to cheer on my team?" Frank asked mockingly.

Arabella looked at her friend. "Well, obviously."


"—and the score is now 70-10, Gryffindor leading by a mile—it looks like Longbottom is going to win those Galleons after all—what the—"

Parkinson and Dewitt shot two Bludgers, one right after the other, at Adam. One hit Adam in the side of the head, the other hit him in the gut. He crouched over his broom, grabbing his stomach with one hand and his head with the other.

Sirius lost it and threw his club at Dewitt's head.

"UNBELIEVABLE!" the announcer howled. "The dirtiest playing I've seen in years—you Slytherin gits, you aren't supposed to attack the Keeper unless the Quaffle is within the scoring area, you dolts! Or are you just too stupid to remember the bloody rules!

At that point, Parkinson chucked his club towards the announcer, who thankfully ducked.

Madam Pomfrey blew her whistle. "ENOUGH! Penalty shot for both Slytherin and Gryffindor!"

"And what about me?" the outraged announcer demanded. "He tried to take my head off, what are you going to do about that, eh?"


"—and the score is 80-20, Gryffindor still leading," the ruffled announcer declared. "The slimy Slytherin gits are trailing by sixty points, and Evans has the Quaffle, come on Evans, score on those prats!"

And she did. "90-20!"

Not soon after, Melissa scored again. "100-20! That's the way to do it, Gryffindor!"

In the stands, Frank rubbed his hands together greedily. "I can practically taste those Galleons!"

Diane looked at him in bewilderment. "Why would you want to taste Galleons anyway?"


"—and the score is now 120-20, Gryffindor a hundred points in the lead—take that, you Slytherin pricks! The Gryffindor Chasers are on a roll, ladies and gents, amazing teamwork—and Evans takes the lead to score yet again—that makes it 130 to 20, unbelievable—"

"GRY-FFIN-DOR!" the crowd chanted, again and again. "GRY-FFIN-DOR!"

Lily was feeling even more confident than she did before the match. Sure, Slytherin was still chucking the occasional club their way, but those weren't hard to avoid.

And then—

Matt went into a sudden dive. Caine was still in a daze, just hovering twenty feet above the ground, in no position to go after Matt. This was no Wronski Feint, there was no point, with Caine all loopy. This was the real thing

"—and I think he's after the real thing—HE'S GOT IT! Hunter has caught the Snitch, and Gryffindor WINS! 280 to 20, they win by a landslide."

Lily froze on her broom.

We won.

The Quidditch final…we beat Slytherin.

Merlin's beard…we beat SLYTHERIN…WE beat Slytherin….we BEAT Slytherin…WE BEAT SLYTHERIN.

"Lily!" James howled, zooming past her to crush Matt. "Come on!"

Lily laughed suddenly, shaken out of her stupor, and she joined her teammates, who were tangled all together in some sort of hug involving broomsticks. Everyone was screaming themselves hoarse, Lily among them.

As they sank down to earth, Lily could see, over someone's shoulder, the crowd rushing out to greet them, yelling and cheering. Then before she knew it—

—she and the rest of the team were thrust onto the shoulders of the crowd. After that it was nothing but a series of impressions—

—Professor McGonagall shaking Professor Grifton's hand, looking very smug.

–red and gold ribbons and rosettes flying through the air, one of them was caught in Sirius's hair—

—Frank, dancing like a lunatic, screaming something…Lily could barely make it out…finally, she read his lips, "Fifty Galleons for me, fifty Galleons for me…"—

—the announcer, still screaming the score into his megaphone—

—Bella, Bella beaming up at her, saying, "I told you you'd be all right!"—

—Melissa and Rebecca hugging each other—

—Adam nearly crushing Matt with his one-armed hug—

—and then, James.

James, yelling to the people who were carrying him…"Hey, hey, get me to Lily…get me to Evans over there—"

and Lily yelled the same thing back to the crowd, "James—get me over to him—"

and they were listening…she was getting closer…she reached out her arms towards him, and they almost slammed into each other, the hug awkward—

but there was nowhere else she'd rather be—

and James was laughing in her ear, chuckling softly. "Didn't I tell you the team would be sensational with you playing for us?"

"Yes," Lily said, pulling back and smiling at him tearfully. "You did."

—and suddenly, they were kissing and the sun was shining bright and the roar of the crowd faded to a muted whisper and they had won the Cup—

—and there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

When they finally pulled apart, James grinned at her. "Does this mean," he asked, breathless, "—that we're officially going out now?"

Lily kissed him in response. "Yes," she said against his mouth, "—we're officially going out."