It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 17: In Which Lily has a Nice Ramble

or

In Which Lily is Nearly Squashed by Group of Fan Girls

ooo…ooo

"Gryffindor WINS! A close match to the very end, but Gryffindor nabbed the win. The final score, 270 -170 Gryffindor, a decent margin considering the loss of players and the puzzling behavior of their two star players."

"We WON!" I screamed, wringing Sirius around the neck in a hug.

"HELL YES!" Sirius screamed back, and gave me an exuberant kiss on the cheek.

"Hands, and other things, to yourself, mister!" I scolded, grinning like an idiot (I can't help it, though; we WON!). Sirius winked at me and then proceeded to do some sort of crazy barrel role, during which I completely had my hands all over him (not like that, get your minds out of the gutter people, I was holding on to his shoulder/waist to keep myself from falling off and dying that pancake death I've been so close to so many times today).

James dove by us, holding the snitch high over his head and took a turn over the crowd, which went wild and began pouring out of the stands onto the pitch. James flew to the center of the pitch and was met in the air by the remaining two chasers, who proceeded to jump on him like they had some sort of death wish that involved falling from heights. They were then joined by the other beater and the keeper, who hopped into the death wish party as well.

Wait … why are we moving toward them?

Oh no! Oh NO! I don't do dog piles, period. But most especially of all I don't do dog piles 20 freaking feet off of the ground. NO, NO, NO. That's final. If only I were steering, directing, or whatever it is you do to get the broom to do what you want (there's a reason I don't play Quidditch, and I would have failed introduction to flying if it had been graded).

"Sirius," I said quietly, "Could we not …"

Sigh, I'm going to die, but I've just become resigned to it by this point. I don't even think I'm sitting on a broom anymore.

Who decided that mid-air dog piles were a good idea? Because I'm going to kill them. This is the worst idea … ever! I'm going to lose my grip on Sirius' hair and whosever arm I've got a hold on and I'll fall to my death. I will come back and haunt Sirius, though.

Who would ever want to do this repeatedly? I think these people (Quidditch players) might have some serious mental issues that cause them to seek out creative ways in which to die in broom accidents. I also think my eardrums have burst from all the crowd noise. I swear it doesn't sound this loud when you're on the ground.

"The Gryffindor team is having their usual team celebration up in the air and Black even took the girl with the apricot colored hair along with him. I don't know many people who wouldn't kill to be in her position right now hearing one of Potter's infamous 'end of game' talks!"

Ok, I think he might have been trying to compliment me … perhaps, in an odd, not very well executed sort of way. Still … apricot? I don't think so. Apricot … Do I look like a walking food bowl to anyone else? I sometimes wonder if I'm alone in this world.

"It was a though game, guys, but we pulled it out. I owe you one for sticking with me and I swear I won't let you down like that again. Alright, go celebrate, but be in the changing rooms in 15 minutes. Good job everyone!"

He's so passionate. I wish he would talk to me like that. Sigh. I wish I could be as wonderful as Quidditch (in his opinion (in my opinion I'm 20 million times better)).

Everyone in our little dog pile let out an earsplitting roar that most certainly ruptured what was left of my eardrums and began to break off.

Shi … shimmery butterfly wings! I just lost one of my handholds. I am compensating by grasping Sirius' hair even harder.

"Lily, you can let go of my hair now," Sirius said hesitantly.

I pried open my eyes and saw that we were safely settled on his broom. We aren't dead! And I'm not deaf! Score! This hasn't turned out badly after all. I just have a mortal fear of snitches and I actually know that I don't want to become a pancake and my future boyfriend (if I can ever pin him down and get a "let's go to Hogsmeade" out of him (or I could ask him myself. I am a strong female after all (and when we get married he can change his last name (James Evans … butt monkeys … that sounds terrible) Alright, so I'll change my last name, but I'll still be pro-feminist (Lily Potter … dude, that sounds so good))) has abandoned me with his best friend, which can never be a good thing. Mr. 'Oh So Noble' could have at least given me a ride to the ground so I could see him before he was engulfed by adoring fans (of which there are many).

I'm feeling hurt. Maybe I don't want to go out with him after all. Maybe I should go curl up in a corner and cry and eat lots of chocolate. Drat, he's already messing up my self-esteem and we aren't even going out! Lord knows how we'll manage when we're married. We're going to be one messed up little couple. And our children … shudder … those poor dears. Maybe finding a live-in counselor wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe I could become a counselor … that could work.

Oh, bugger that, we'll just drive each other nuts and be blissfully happy about it. Of course there is the slight problem of us not actually being married … or engaged … or even going out to deal with.

Sirius spotted Ally and we (since I didn't have much choice in not going with him) headed toward her. As soon as we got near the ground Sirius hoped off of the broom in mid-air, leaving me to flounder (graceful floundering, of course) around and end up lying flat on my face before managing to scramble up to my feet, after which I had to fight a first year for Sirius' broom (come on people, this isn't baseball, you can't keep the balls (even if you catch them) and the same goes for brooms).

I finally made it back to find Sirius spinning Ally around and kissing her rather avidly. Oh goody, now I'm depressed. How come I don't have a boyfriend to swing me off my feet after Quidditch games? I poked Black with his broom and he turned around, looking rather annoyed at being interrupted from his declarations of how much Ally meant to him and how worried he'd been that the bludger would hit her. It was sickeningly adorable. Excuse me while I go throw up all the food I've eaten lately (which has actually been nothing, but I'd sure go for a chocolate frog or some chocolate cake or a chocolate chip cookie or some chocolate ice cream or … I'd just like some chocolate, ok? Is that too much to ask? All I've had is that vile potion which was completely useless since James isn't anywhere to be seen and instead I have to try and give the boy declaring his undying devotion to my best friend his broom. Why!).

Sirius took his broom and turned back to Ally leaving me with literally nothing to do whatsoever since now I can't even hold his broom so I feel like I'm useful (even if I'm not).

Oh, bother, I might as well just go back to the Hospital Wing at this point and mope about. I can tell Madam Jeffries about it and then we can commiserate about dumb men and lost loves, it'll be exciting. Oh Gods Drunken Fruitful Apples! I told Jeffries I wouldn't let anyone see me and everyone saw me! Sh … schnapps ginger ale!

I'm a failure! I didn't even manage to accomplish anything! And it's not even my fault. It's all that … that … commitment phobic, jelly snorting, apple fritter eating, magnetic kissing, necking, terribly good looking, seeker-ing James Potter! I hate him. Where is he? I'm going to go find that jumped up little seeker. He thinks he's so good. Well that's fine with me and if I'm not good enough, that's fine, but he's going to have one heck of a broken … well, bruised … nose when I'm done with him. Oh bugger that, I'll just curse him.

I pushed through the fans until I spotted a cluster of what appeared to be screaming fan girls and knew I'd found James (after all, who else would have a cluster of screaming fan girls except for him?). Using my inherent female powers, I sidled, fought, pranced, skipped, ducked, and shoved my way through the crowd to James, who was about to dive into the locker room.

He looks a bit … hunted. I would feel bad for him, but clearly he deserves it since he's a no good person (if he were a good person he'd ask me out and kiss me senseless … and he clearly hasn't done that). So I stopped and smirked, feeling quite content to sit back and watch James be harassed by the little fan girls. Hehe, this is making me feel better already. Who knew I took so much pleasure in watching other people's discomfort?

"That's nice … hands! Hands to yourself! … I've really got to go … oh, well thank you … yeah, right back at you … sorry, I don't date first years … ahhh, personal bubble, personal bubble …"

Gods, this is better than a sport. I would pay good money to see this (but luckily I don't have to since I don't actually have any money on me (or period since I like to make it a point to be broke, so I can't be tempted to spend any money)).

"No, really, I'm not interested … please, keep that to yourself … no, no, no you're a lovely girl, it's just I already have a girl … no, we aren't going out … I'm planning on asking her … well, she's closer to my age for starters … yes, gorgeous …"

Who in the world is he talking about? Is it me? Oh my gods! I bet it's me! He's planning to ask me out! Ahhh … he likes me (well, I kind of knew that, but I'm astonishingly insecure and need all sorts of reassurance)!

Wait … what if it's not me. Oh dear, I can't let myself get excited and expect things. Hmm … let's see … I know! I'll just get out from behind him and let him see me and if he sweeps me off of my feet in a romantic fashion it's me and if not … I'll break his sorry nose. I inched by a girl with long swinging pigtails and ended up getting shoved by a little witch (with a capital B) and sprawling onto the ground at James' feet.

Oh gods, can you imagine how this is going to look? I just fell at his feet! My life is a laughing stock! Darn you gods of luck! Why do you only seem to favor me when I'm about to die a grizzly death (not that I don't appreciate that, but couldn't you hang out at other times too?)! Maybe I'll just lie here and never get up and the world will just go on without me and I won't have to deal with any of the humiliating things that generally seem to exist in my life … all of them time.

"Lily! Are you alright?" I was surprised to be physically dragged up to my feet by some very large comforting hands that obviously belong to the only fellow I know with large comforting hands (hint hint James). I looked at him in surprise for a few seconds before Emerson got the door to the locker room open, after having to physically shove back all of the fans pressing up against it. Most of the team darted in (Sirius not among them, obviously he's occupied elsewhere), but James hesitated. He still had a grip on my arm from hauling me up and he did a sort of back and forth look between the locker room and me. I sighed, closing my eyes. I guess I will just go back to the hospital wing and pout and fruitlessly hope that he's going to show up and we'll get married (although obviously not in that exact chronology of events, there will be some things in between).

Whoosh!

What the heck? Why's it so quiet?

"I thought significant others weren't allowed in the locker room, captain."

I opened my eyes to see that I was located in locker room (kind of obvious from what Emerson just said). The locker room. What am I doing in here? I'm not supposed to be in here. Did I subconsciously follow James? Oh sh … shepherd's hooks! I'm never going to live this down. He's so going to know I fancy him to death (which could be a good thing if he turns to me in the next three seconds and says, "Lily, my love, marry me!"). One, two, three … rats. I was actually rather hoping that would work.

"Well, I am the captain and I couldn't just leave her out there in that mess, now could I?"

Wait … what? He just said that he brought me in. Dude, that so explains it! I'm not nuts! I'm not living in the magical world of "Mary had a Little Lamb" where Mary is a guy named James and the lamb is a girl named Lily and she follows him everywhere he goes. Thank the good, gracious, merciful, Mary hating (not that Mary's are bad, just the ones in the magical world I don't live in!), beautificious, and charming GODS!

Merlin's socks, I was so preoccupied with the fact I'm not insane I completely almost missed the fact that James brought me into the locker room with him. That has to be a good thing. He didn't want to leave me! Isn't that romantic? He cares about what happens to me!

"Wait, you two are going out, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that explains why you nearly lost us the game."

"Wow, next time we'll stick her in a steel box or something."

"Nearly gave me a heart attack, let me tell you!"

Oh no, we're not going out! This is so embarrassing! At least they aren't asking about the whole snitch thing. I can't tell you have eternally grateful I am that … someone, who knows who … managed to keep that whole fiasco away from that announcer's attention. I think I'm even going to risk being grateful for that, wait, where's Black? Oh cookie crumbs, I can't be grateful yet until he's here and there's no chance whatsoever that he'll tell that … that … gremlin faced, large mouthed, terribly talkative announcer, so that he can embarrass me for the rest of my life (which will be quite short if I die of embarrassment).

"I am sorry about that, but …"

"No, no, it's understandable."

"Completely."

"Yeah, can't let a pretty girl like that get crushed," Emerson said, winking at me.

I finger waved back. These people are creeping me out. I like watching Quidditch players from a distance, but this close proximity is not so good.

"Geez, Potter, you have all the luck with girls. I want a girlfriend like that," the beater, Brinkley, said in awe.

I'm feeling very desirable to be sure, but I'm slightly worried that if I point out I'm not Potter's girlfriend the beater will jump me or something.

What is Potter doing? He just wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me up against his side. First off, he's sweaty, but second off, that action severely smacks of going out behavior.

"Yeah, I do, don't I?" James smiled at me, while I stared back in a sort of deer in the headlights way.

Did I miss something? What if I have amnesia or short-term memory loss and we're already going out and I've forgotten all about it. Holy rolly polly, that would be so weird (in a totally sweet way)! He's leaning in, as in leaning in; have I mentioned he's leaning in? If I haven't forgotten (which is unlikely, let me tell you) this is just what it looks like before he kisses me.

Oh my great galloping gods, HE'S GOING TO KISS ME! He loves me! He wants to go out with and have lots of sticky little children with me! Score! I leaned in too, closing my eyes, and felt his lips hit my cheek.

My cheek. What am I his sister? That's a kiss for your Great Aunt Bertha, not your bloody wife-to-be (or girlfriend-to-be or whatever-I-should-be to him). I'm so going to break his nose!

"Kissing in the locker rooms; I'm scandalized!"

Ah, charming, Sirius has arrived.

"I expected better of you captain, my captain. You should have told me it was 'bring your girlfriend to the wrap-up talk' day! I'd have brought Ally!"

"Sorry, mate, but I just brought her in to rescue her from the crowd," James said, with a shrug that said, 'what can you do?'

"Riiight," Sirius said, winking in a rather lewd fashion at me.

I shot Sirius a dirty look. I'm having such a bad day and I'm starting to think killing him would make it a lot better. The only problem, of course, being that he's saved my life twice today, so I kind of owe him. Alright, so I won't kill him this time and one of those debts will be repaid. Awesome! If he keeps of his usual level of annoyingness then I'll be out of debt in the next 5 minutes and I'll be able to kill him before dinner.

"Ok, since everyone's here, lets circle up and make this a quick talk so we can get to the victory party."

I watched as everyone moved to circle up around James. I tried to back away, out of the circle, but James kept a firm grip on my waist. I poked him in the side and he squinched up and let out a breathy laugh.

"Don't do that, love, I'm trying to be dignified," he said, getting a laugh out of everyone.

Love? Love … as in I'm his love. I wonder how many times I can think love in one minute. Dude … 63, that's pretty good. I looked around the circle at everyone. They don't seem to think it's odd I'm here. Why is that? Maybe James brings in girls a lot. Or maybe he talks about me a lot, so they're glad I'm here to shut him up. Ok, scratch that one. That's completely ludicrous.

"So practice on Tuesday, 6:00 sharp. Now go have fun, but no fire whiskey! Are you listening, Brinkley? Don't smirk; I'm serious. No, no, not you, Sirius. I'm very firmly set against spiking the butterbeer; do you understand? I don't want to bench my best beater, besides you Sirius, for crying out loud, for getting first years drunk, ok? Good, I'll see you guys there in a bit."

Everyone broke out of the circle, heading to lockers and grabbing their stuff, ready to get out. Emerson and Sirius headed to the showers, but everyone else simply left. James just stood in the same place, watching them go and still holding me firmly to his side. Once the locker room proper was empty, he let go and I reflexively stepped away. I mean, that was a bit 'Invasion of the personal bubble by the really hot man.' Not that I was objecting, but still my personal bubble was feeling a bit … uncomfortable (and upset about that kissing thing, it doesn't like being rejected!).

"Listen, Lily," he started, but I cut him off.

"No, you listen, James. I'm sick and tired of you being all confusing and stuff. First you're like, "Oh let me kiss you all of the time, anytime, anywhere," then you're, "oh, I'm going to ignore you," then you go on the, "oh, let me rescue you instead of catching the snitch so you can pretend you're my true love," kick, then you decide, "I'm not sticking my hand down your shirt," and then you let your Quidditch team think we're going out. From what I can see you've been nothing but an … an … an asinine, butt face to me. You've completely flipped, flopped, floundered, and buggered up all of my feelings. I have no idea what you want from me! All I know is that I want you, well, you in the sense that I want you to be my boyfriend and be the father of our 8 children, not like my personal love slave, but I probably wouldn't say no to that either. I don't think that's too much to ask, love slave thing excluded, of course! I mean, a straight answer one way or the other would be nice. Just because a girl is helplessly in love with you and all your vexing wonderfulness doesn't give you a right to ignore me …"

Umm … I think I might have been rambling. Finally my speaking brake caught (rather like a parking brake), but it's rather too late though. I've made such a fool of myself. Why, oh why, must I blush so much (and talk so much)? Red is so not my color. It just doesn't go with my hair. Why can't the blushing and the hair be the same shade of red? That would make so much more sense. I can't be the only one who sees that!

"You … you want to have ei … eight kids with me?"

Oh sh … shells! I really really need to get this rambling problem fixed because I know I shouldn't have said that … EVER!

Ok, big choice here. Truth, or not truth (aka lies).

Scenario A: "Yes, James, I want to have at least eight, preferably 10 or 12 kids with you." James faints and/or runs away.

Scenario B: "I never said that. I said I want to have snake kids as a pets." James nods in confusion, but doesn't leave at top speed.

Oh that's useless; I'm in over my head as it is. I might as well lay all of my cards on the table.

"I … I did." At least I left out the bit about 12 kids.

"With me?"

"No, with the boogey man," I mumbled.

"Oh, Lily, I … I … well, I love you too. And I'd quite like to have 8 kids with you as well and perhaps we could arrange something for the love slave thing, but you'd have to be my love slave too." My head shot up in shock. Did he just say what I think he said? I think he just said what I think he said. OH MY GODS! We're going to have 8 mini-Potters and mini-Evans'! And I'm going to have a love slave! Wow … a love slave. Dude, Ally's going to be so jealous!

"I know I've been doing some dumb things, but I thought … I thought you didn't like me and I know that's not a particularly good excuse, but I was actually in quite a spectacular moping groove and I didn't want to break out for fear that the next groove would be even worse …"

I reached up, grabbed the collar of his Quidditch robe and pulled him down to me for a kiss. I melted into him, as he brought his hands up to pull me closer to him. I think I'm in love. Oh, fine, I admit it, I'm so in love, there's no thinking involved. I'll even skip giving him the broken nose, but only because he's such a nice kisser. This kiss is a bit different than our others, though. I wonder if that's because I know he loves me or because I know I love him. There's just something more … tender, long-term, forever, and ever and ever about this kiss. I like it!

Heck, if I'd known love could make kissing this much better I'd not only have started kissing sooner, I'd have started falling in love sooner!

ooo…ooo

Hope you enjoyed reading! A review is always loved and appreciated, but not if your in the midst of a life changing ramble.

Sorry about taking so long to update, but I'm in the midst of exams currently and was in the midst of studying for exams. I'm a wee bit swamped, so the next update will be … sometimes. I'm afraid I can't be more definite than that. I think the next chapter might also be the last, but there might be one more. Sigh. My mind is one crazed place.

Best Beta Ever - Daystar