A/N: Thank you for the reviews—I'm glad you like this so far. Not much of an Author's Note beyond—ENJOY! And review if you'd like.

Disclaimer: Most assuredly not mine.

The Seven Signs of Love

More Mellow Than Yellow

I had always liked quidditch games. Oh, I know what a few of my friends would tell you—"Cor, does Lily get obsessed with the blasted things!" Really, who wouldn't?

Despite the fact that they were loud, what with the screaming, cheering, obnoxious attendees, quidditch games were exciting. Balls whooshing about! Bludgers jerking here and there! Players zipping all over the place! And the snitch—that little golden ball that everyone was always trying to spot—flitting all over the place like…well pretty much like the little, gold, flying ball that it is!

Oho yes—I so dearly loved those exiting, death-defying games! Once in a while, some player might crash into the stands or into another player, or even nearly fall off their broom, making the crowd below gasp in terror.

Like I said, very exciting.

So, it was no wonder that my group of friends were giving me odd looks. Usually I was cheering, jeering, screaming, and shouting with the rest of them. Saturday afternoon, however, I merely sat in the stands, staring out onto the quidditch pitch as Hufflepuff and Gryffindor players zoomed by.

The crowd let out astounded "Oohs" as I sat quietly on my part of the bench, watching one of the players in particular. I couldn't see his large earlobe from this far away, but I would know that pompous flying anywhere.

James Potter, not much more than a streak of gold and red, dodged a bludger near the Hufflepuff goalposts, flipping over in the process. Flying upside down, James inched closer to the hoop-like goals, the prized quaffle ball clutched tightly in his arms. When it appeared that the coast was clear, and only the keeper was attempting to thwart him, James turned his broom back over, held the quaffle in his hands, and then threw it into one of the goals.

The loud ding that signaled scored points set the onlookers around me cheering wildly. I sat back and smiled. Sure James was a prat, but he was a bloody good quidditch player too.

"Lily," shouted Alice McGodfry from down the row of onlookers, "all right?"

I turned to her. She and Emmeline were watching me with worried expressions. "Just fine," I replied serenely. "Why?"

"Well you're just sitting there," Alice called. "It's rather unnerving. Shouldn't you be shouting horrendous slurs at the other team…or waving your arms wildly like usual?"

I smiled benignly at her. "I've been cheering," I replied.

Alice frowned and Emmeline said, "Well, actually, Lily, you cheered once, when the teams came out onto the pitch…but we've not heard much out of you since then. Do you want to go to the infirmary?"

I shook my head 'No' and turned back to watch the game, my eyes roving the field as if I was searching for the golden snitch, although that was hardly my motive. Ah! There he was.

James was darting in and out of players now, passing the quaffle to another Gryffindor teammate. The quaffle soared through the air toward James's teammate, but the boy missed it, and the quaffle flew past him, into the waiting arms of a Hufflepuff player. James shook his fist and flew over to his teammate, whapping him on the back of his head.

"I say!" Exclaimed Emmeline from next to me, "That was rather violent!"

"Don't you think that was violent, Lily?" Alice called down to me.

I shrugged and continued to watch the game. Of course it was violent—all of quidditch was violent… But I didn't take the time to explain that to Alice.

An announcer proclaimed, "Hufflepuff—115 to 110!"

The Gryffindors around me "booed" and made rude gestures at the announcer and at the Hufflepuff-section of the stands. I sat back and watched James fly around, trying to get the quaffle back and make another goal.

Suddenly there was a whistle and the stands erupted in boos and cheering. The snitch had apparently been caught.

The announcer screamed over the crowd, "THE SNITCH HAS BEEN CAUGHT AND HUFFLEPUFF WINS!"

"OH THAT'S JUST GREAT!" Alice screamed, her face turning red in fury as she punched at the air.

Beside me, Emmeline shook her head and cried, "Well bugger all a thousand times over! I was sure we'd get it!"

I watched James yell at his team members and point toward the locker room in obvious anger. Emmeline tugged on my arm and we started to head out of the stands, passing by the quidditch pitch right as James marched along it, shoving the Gryffindor seeker roughly toward the locker room at the end of the Gryffindor-section of the stands. Normally, such behavior would have set me off on a rant, but I just stopped and watched James instead.

He caught my eye and walked over to Emmeline, Alice, and me, saying to the seeker, "Just get in there, Bradley, and explain to them why you couldn't spot something that was hovering near your blasted nose!"

The seeker hung his head, his nose bloody and quite possibly broken from when the Hufflepuff seeker had caught the snitch, and he slinked in through the locker room door.

"All right, Lily?" James asked, standing in front of me and nodding at Alice and Emmeline.

"All right, Potter," I replied.

"Great game, Potter," Alice said sarcastically from beside me.

James raised his eyebrows and didn't reply. Instead he wiped sweat off of his forehead and started to take his gloves off. "Listen, girls—even though we lost, there's still going to be a bit of a celebration in the common room. Why don't you come along, yeah? No use hiding out in your dormitory like usual."

"Potter," Emmeline pointed out, "we don't hide in our dormitory for quidditch celebrations. You're usually too pissed by the time we get there to notice us."

"Really?" Asked James, watching me as he said it.

"And why, exactly," Alice nearly screeched with anger, "are you having a celebration for a game that you lost?"

James cocked his head and replied in a cheerful tone, "Any reason at all is a reason for a party, Alice dear."

Alice trembled with rage and stormed off, pulling Emmeline along with her. Emmeline started to shout something to us, but her words were lost as she and Alice disappeared into the crowd. James watched them go for a moment before turning to me.

"Why so quiet, Lily?" he asked.

"Why so prattish, James," I countered quietly, watching him squirm as I used his name mockingly.

James squinted his eyes and leaned toward me. "You be as mellow, quiet, and placid as you want, Lily," James said slowly. "But I promise you, I'll notice if you aren't at that celebration."

I lifted my eyebrows at him and shrugged, deciding not to berate for what sounded like a threat to me. I watched him wipe more sweat out of his eyes for a moment, and then I turned around and walked into the crowd of people making their way back to the castle.

Behind me, James shouted, "I mean it Lily! I'm not getting pissed until I see your pretty face!"

I lifted my eyes skyward. That boy was such a romantic sometimes.