A/N:

Hello again everyone!

It's March 10 as I'm writing this note - the birthday of our favourite chocoholic, Defence Professor, and last Marauder. It's also, coincidentally, my own. So, in celebration of this event, here is 5,000ish words of quidditch cup final.

This is also going to be my last update for a while. Real life has gotten intense and I'm not sure when I'll have time to write. But I'll be back when I can (I'm not leaving this story unfinished, I promise you all).

So, please enjoy!

Fortunately for all involved, Saturday dawned as clear and as bright as the Monday which had started the exam week. The early morning showed all the signs of continuing into a truly beautiful day. And so it should. The final weekend before the summer was a magical time - where they were still at Hogwarts but didn't have anything pressing to do. They could just enjoy themselves. What better way to do that then by watching the quidditch final?

Quidditch Saturdays were always special at Hogwarts, but never more so than when it was time for the final. And having a final between the biggest rivals in the entire school? Well, that was raising the excitement to a whole new level. James Potter's Gryffindor versus Regulus Black's Slytherin (Reggie having earned the impromptu promotion when the Gryffindor team 'accidentally' hobbled the renowed cheater that had held the position for the rest of the year). It was going to be a game to remember.

At about eight o'clock that morning, Rose yawned and shuffled into the common room. Her quidditch robes hung comfortably heavy on her frame, her tired eyes protesting the early wake up on the morning after their exams. Unsurprisingly, most of the team was already gathered around the common room, some napping against whatever surface offered a respite, while James talked at the others. On quidditch mornings, there was no conversation. James talked at the team, and the team listened. Or not, depending on how fed up they were of hearing James go on and on about tactics he'd already covered in the many practice sessions that they had endured.

Judging by the sea of scarlet and gold before her, Rose judged that only little Imelda (their small but agile keeper) was missing from the room. Sirius and Benjy were the poor bastards stuck closest to James, Benjy's eyes glazing over at the drone of James's enthusiasm while Sirius was very obviously not listening to a word his best mate said. In fact, the eerily bloodthirsty grin that adored his handsome face spoke volumes about what was going on inside Sirius' mind. Visions of bleeding Slytherins fleeing from his powerfully hit bludgers undoubtedly danced before his eyes, probably accompanied by the crunch of his bat into his brother's face.

Oh, Rose didn't think for a second that Sirius wanted to cause any permanent damage to his little brother - he loved him far too much for that, present choices notwithstanding - but Sirius definitely needed to let loose a little, and harmless daydreaming about beating the Slytherins always seemed to be a good way to go about it.

Marlene waved at Rose, beckoning her over to her quiet corner of the common room. As Rose really didn't want to get stuck listening to James and his endless recitation of tactics and the game plan, she happily joined her friend in the chairs by the open window. A cigarette hang gracefully from Marlene's long fingers, something the pureblood witch hardly ever indulged in - at least not where the younger students might see her. Marlene had always said that smoking was a bad habit, and while she enjoyed it she didn't want to be responsible for making the younger students take up the habit. Sirius on the other hand did what he wanted because he wanted - but often threatened the younger students with an imaginative range of hexes and pranks if they thought of following his lead. His thoughts were that if they wanted to kill themselves, all they had to do was wait a few years; the chances were that simply being out in the wizarding world would do that for them.

"How long has Captain Prat been up?" Rose wondered, enjoying the cool air drifting in through the window.

Marlene shrugged an elegant shoulder, making the quidditch robes look far less bulky and unattractive than they were. "Since about half past seven or so," she replied, pitching her voice low enough that James wouldn't hear them. "He's been waffling on about those bloody tactics ever since." Marlene's midnight eyes flickered over to the fireplace, James's chosen spot for his oratory. "I think Black's sleeping with his eyes open."

"He's just daydreaming," Rose corrected, her gaze attracted by the rise and fall of robes on the couch facing away from the fireplace. "You want asleep, just look at Ian Podmore."

"He's always asleep," Marlene smirked, her hair bouncing around her jaw. "That boy fell asleep in the boys lavatories once. I'd say he's a narcoleptic only he's always alert on the quidditch pitch."

Rose laughed, snapping her gaze back to James to make sure he hadn't noticed. Their captain was still blathering on, so she presumed he hadn't. "You can't really afford to nap on the quidditch pitch, Marley," Rose said softly. "Either you'll fall off your broom, or you'll get whalloped by a bludger. Neither are particularly pleasant things to have happen."

"I don't know," Marlene offered, a glimmer of teasing in her eyes. "I thought you liked falling off your broom, you sure try it often enough in our practices."

"We have to be prepared for every possible eventuality, Marlene," Rose sniffed, putting on an impression of James at his most haughty. She laughed and continued in her usual tone of voice. "You know as well as I do, the Slytherins cheat like it's going out of fashion. It's only good tactics to be ready for whatever underhanded trick they try with us out on the pitch today."

Marlene ducked her head to look into Rose's eyes. She smirked and waved her hand in front of Rose's face. "Oh hello James," she said, rolling her eyes. "I didn't see you in there."

Rose playfully pushed Marlene, shaking her head at her. "Oh shut up."

Lily came floating down the stairs not long afterwards, her emerald eyes clear and bright. She ignored James, who strangely hadn't seemed to have noticed her, and strolled over to join Rose and Marlene by the window. "Morning, Lil."

"Morning Rosie, Marlene," Lily replied, smiling at them. She was always so much more relaxed when there was no more learning to be done. Emerald eyes flickered over to where James was still rabbiting on, his audience now definitely ignoring him. Even Sirius was now out of his daydreams and watching Rose from his place by the fire. "Has Potter had his breakdown yet?"

"I think he's well and truly in the middle of it," Rose confirmed, sharing a sympathetic smile with Sirius.

"Which deranged Potter have we the pleasure of committing today?" Lily wondered, cocking her head ever so slightly to the side. "Is it the Potter that sees dissention within the ranks, or one of the less amusing ones?"

"One of the less amusing ones," Marlene reported, perching on the edge of the table. "Right, Rose?"

Rose couldn't help but smirk. "Let me just check," she said, turning around. "Siri?!"

"Yes, Rosebud?" Sirius called, voice smooth and charming.

Rose privately thought - and not for the first time - that his voice ought to come with some sort of warning. She smiled brightly. "Which brand of Potty Potter do we have today?"

"That's a good question," Sirius observed, grey eyes dancing. "It's certainly not the fun one."

"Oi!" Burning hazel eyes snapped to Sirius in outrage. "I'm always fun!"

"Not right now you're not," Benjy corrected, his mutter heard across the common room.

Sirius just smirked and raised an eyebrow, as if to say 'see?'.

James glowered, little storm clouds gathering above his head. "I'm always fun," he repeated, this time more petulantly than the first.

Lily crossed her arms, less than impressed. "That really doesn't answer my question."

Sirius laughed, the bark rolling throughout the room. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, shifting his voice from conversationally charming to quidditch commentator. "It brings me no little headache to introduce you to the potty planning Potter. The madman who insists on clobbering us about the head with his plan." Sirius glared across at an unrepentant James. "Even though we've been hearing it since we beat Ravenclaw!"

James grinned, pleased with himself. "We have to be prepared, Pads."

"Yes," Sirius agreed pleasantly. "But there is preparing us and there is pissing us off. Which do you think you're doing now?"

"Oh, it is undoubtedly the latter," James smirked. "But you're labouring under the delusion that I give a shit." James pointed to the board displaying one of his many tactical arrangements. "We have to beat Slytherin to win the cup. If we don't win, we've lost to those cheating, backstabbing, all-round scummy bastards. And no! Not on my watch!"

Sirius patted him on the shoulder. "Nor on ours either, mate," he replied calmly. "But we've got this. Don't you think so, Evans?"

Lily started at being addressed, taking a moment to read Sirius and James. "Of course you do," she agreed eventually, watching James beam in pride. "So stop sulking and go out there and win for Merlin's sake!"

"Not for Merlin," Marlene corrected, house pride shining in her far too beautiful face. "For Godric's sake."

"For Godric Gryffindor," James called, raising a bottle of pumpkin juice.

"For Godric Gryffindor," Rose cried, Benjy, Ian and Marlene's voices joining her own. Imelda's voice came just a second after the others', their keeper standing just at the bottom of the stairs.

Sirius remained silent, a smirk flittering about his lips. "For Godric Gryffindor," he echoed, inclining his head at Rose. Grey eyes twinkled, roving to meet James's. "The original potty Potter."

"Come on," James called, clapping his hands. "It's time for breakfast!"

Sirius clapped James on the back, steering him towards the portrait hole. "And then we'll give Reggie something to cry to Walburga about."

It was a few minutes before ten o'clock, the calm before the storm. Rose stood at the end of the Gryffindor line, feeling like she had swallowed about twelve golden snitches. The Slytherins were about a foot or so from them, standing in their green and silver robes (really bloody awful colours those, she had always thought), the beaters waving their bats ominously in her general direction. Regulus was at the head of their line, ignoring James with an ease Rose would have envied had he not been a Death Eater in training - or whatever his exact title was. He wanted to be a Death Eater and that was all the same to her. Behind him stood chasers Nott, Mulciber and Higgs, the beaters Parkinson and Greengrass, and the keeper Aubrey. Fortunately, however hard the Slytherins were glaring at Rose and the other Gryffindors, Sirius was glaring back twice as fiercely. He looked as though he was intending to make it his own personal mission to make the game as dirty as possible - all while keeping within the rules, whenever Madam Hooch could see him that was.

"I wonder who's commentating today?" Rose mused, keeping her voice quiet enough that the snakes couldn't hear her.

"Don't worry, we have an impartial observer," Sirius replied, his eyes twinkling with concealed amusement.

Rose rolled her eyes, cursing herself for not realising. "It's Edgar, isn't it?"

Sirius just smirked enigmatically, grey eyes all but incinerating the Slytherin player (Greengrass) careless enough to sneer at them.

James turned to take in his team. "Get ready chaps," he called, excitement lacing his words. "We're on soon."

No sooner had he said that then a very familiar amplified voice boomed across the pitch. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen, gentlebeings, professors, and those who are deciding which category they belong in!" Rose's mouth dropped open. Remus was commentating!

Sirius caught her eye and smirked, glee dancing in his eyes. He had something to do with this, Rose could just tell. But a quidditch final with Remus commentating? Rose didn't think it could get any better.

"It is a lovely morning here in Scotland," Remus continued, a smirk audible in his voice. "And it gives me great pleasure to welcome you all to the 1976/77 Hogwarts Quidditch Cup final! Gryffindor versus that other lot... Slytherin!"

Cheers erupted throughout the stands, Rose imagining the chaos present within the stands emblazoned with the lion banner of Gryffindor.

"For the benefit of the three people who haven't paid any attention to the quidditch season, this game is a must win for both sides. For Slytherin to claim the Quidditch Cup, they must defeat Gryffindor by a margin of at least one hundred and thirty points (or so James has said every night for the past month). And for Gryffindor to win their fifth consecutive Quidditch Cup, they must simply win the game (and they bloody well better, because I can't handle summer holidays with James's whining). Nobody can deny, this game will be won or lost by the seekers - not that the chasers won't do everything they can to make sure this isn't an issue!"

"Bloody right!" Benjy cried, high-fiving Marlene.

"So," Remus' enhanced voice continued brightly. "Without any further ado, and no more gilding of the lily, it gives me great pleasure to introduce your 1976/77 Quidditch Cup finalists!" Another cheer punched the air like a jet engine. "Representing Slytherin House; the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Mulciber, Nott, Higgs, Aubrey, Parkinson, Greengrass, aaaaaannd Black!"

As Remus called out their names, the Slytherin team took to the sky. The cheers from the Slytherin stand were drowned out by the booing from everyone else.

Remus waited a few moments for the ruckus to die down, then chuckled a little into the microphone. "And now, to introduce the reigning champions, the defenders of the title. Representing Gryffindor House - the Gryffindor quidditch team! The unchanged 1975/76 Quidditch Cup winning side: Potter, McKinnon, Fenwick, Robbins, Podmore, Black, aaaaaaannnd Evans!"

Rose kicked off into the sky just behind Sirius' broom, the snitches fluttering inside her stomach fading away into the sheer exhilaration of playing in a quidditch final. James led the team onto the pitch, playing for the cheers and applause surrounding them. He flew especially towards the front row of the main Gryffindor stand, where the rest of their year - Lily especially - were waiting for the game to begin. Rose watched as he gave them a bow, calling out that he would win this game for Lily. Her twin rolled her eyes, telling James to get a move on then; she wouldn't wait all day. They were supposed to be leaving on Monday morning. Nearby, Sirius and Ian clunked bats like they were making a toast, then flew in opposite directions, Ian to go and greet his friends in the stands, while Sirius came alongside Rose.

"Here we are, Quidditch final," he called, voice clear in the still morning air. "Are you ready, Rosebud?"

"To kick some Slytherin arse?" Rose laughed, brushing a wayward strand of red hair off her face. "Always, Siri."

"Good," he winked, hefting his bat in his hand. "Because I've been waiting for this all year!" He blew her a kiss and turned to fly to James.

"Siri!" Rose called, Sirius half turning in the air. "Don't give Slytherin too many penalties, yeah? We don't need James to have an aneurysm. Especially not today."

"Perish the thought, sweetheart," he demurred, a joyous laugh echoing as he finally flew to join his best friend. "Come on, James! Time to take some names and kick some arse!"

"Isn't it always?!"

That was all they had time for before Madam Hooch summoned them back to the ground. Remus offered Rose a little wave and a grin, seemingly quite pleased with himself for the surprise. They took their positions, waiting for James and Regulus to begrudgingly shake hands. Then, with a sharp blast of Madam Hooch's whistle, the quidditch final had begun.

Rose flew high in the sky above the quidditch pitch, keeping her ears open and her eyes peeled. Her role in this game was much like her role in most quidditch matches. She was to fly around the pitch, keeping an eye out for the snitch, but not to catch it unless James and the other chasers had scored a lot of goals or Reggie looked about to catch it. Rose actually quite enjoyed the job. Most seekers had to do the same thing, causing diversions for the opposition seeker just so their team could end up winning the game/competition/cup/et cetera. And nobody liked it when the seeker caught the snitch in the first ten minutes and ended the game so quickly. Today, however, she couldn't deny that she enjoyed it a little more than usual. Regulus's team needed to win by a big margin, so the game was that much more interesting. It was Reggie's tactics versus James's, Reggie's diversions versus her own. A true game of wits indeed. Adding in Sirius' determination to personally maim the entire smug lot of them, only made it even more fun.

Remus' dry commentary drifted along on the nearly still air, his voice bubbling with excitement. "We're only a few minutes into this match and already this is the most action packed game of the year. Gryffindor beater Sirius Black nearly unseated his opposite number, Valerian Parkinson, with a perfectly timed bludger. You're certainly wasting no time, Padfoot. If I were you, I'd watch out, Slytherin!" Rose waited a moment in place, scanning the sky for any sign of the snitch. "McKinnon's got the quaffle, snatched it right out of the hands of Mulciber. How he let that go is a mystery, his hands are certainly big enough! McKinnon still in possession, she's almost at the hoops. But no! Greengrass' bludger knocked the quaffle from her hands. Ouch! Hope you're okay, Marlene!"

"Unbiased, Mr Lupin!" McGonagall snapped, as if that was ever going to happen.

"Right you are, Professor!" Remus chirped, flowing right back into his commentary. "Nott has the quaffle now, but - ooh - not for long. Lovely bludger there from Sirius. Potter now in possession. Potter's at the hoops. He feints, Aubrey falls for it, and yes! GOAL! Gryffindor Captain James Potter has the first blood in this quidditch final! Not completely useless today, James!"

If McGonagall bothered to reprimand the Marauder, Rose didn't hear. The roar from the crowd drowned out everything, even Rose's own thoughts, for a precious few moments.

For the next half an hour or so, Rose kept a watchful vigil as Gryffindor and Slytherin exchanged goals; the combined efforts of James, Benjy and Marlene always seeming to keep Gryffindor just a little bit ahead (by four or five goals whenever possible, sometimes only as few as one or two). Sirius had been kept busy throughout this, hitting bludgers here, there and everywhere. Hooch had awarded a penalty against him for 'accidentally' hitting Mulciber in the chin with his bat. Sirius had loudly protsted that it wasn't his fault that Mulciber had put his fat head in the way of his bat. Unsurprisingly, that didn't seem to have helped their cause overly much. For her part, Rose had also seen more than her fair share of bludgers, although none had come too close to hitting her. She wasn't sure if this was because her reflexes were that good (they were) or if it was due to Sirius' single-minded determination to cause as much near injury to the smug snakes as he possibly could. Either option was equally likely, although given Sirius' stubbornness perhaps the latter was marginally more plausible.

Rose had momentarily let herself get distracted by James celebrating his tenth goal of the match - the quaffle seeming glued to his hands at some points - when a roar from the Slytherin end of the stadium caught her attention. And everyone else's, apparently. Nott used the distraction to score a goal off Imelda, the Slytherin end going crazy. "Another goal to Slytherin! Hold on, what's this?" Remus sounded breathless. "Slytherin captain, Regulus Black, seems to have seen the snitch!"

Rose cursed, spinning her broom around to chase after Regulus. Slytherin weren't ahead just yet, but it was close enough that they could just squeak a victory if Reggie caught the snitch now. She hurtled across the pitch, eyes fixed on the sky in front of Regulus. Perhaps it was the glare from the sun, but she couldn't see a thing. No little ball of gold hovering in the air. She couldn't risk letting Regulus get it first though. She just couldn't. Pushing her broom faster (and herself flatter to the broom), Rose crept up on the younger Black brother, close enough to get faint whiffs of a spicy aftershave on the wind. Still she couldn't see the snitch - elusive little bugger that it was - but she pushed her broom ever closer to Regulus's. Just a little further. Yes! They were neck and neck, either of them could get the snitch.

Suddenly, Regulus hauled back on his broom, coming to a near stop. Rose automatically did the same, spinning in the air, a frown crossing her face. Regulus was but a foot from her, a smug smirk dancing across his face. It wasn't nearly as warm or handsome on him as it was on Sirius. In fact, it was cold and cruel, sharp like a pile of broken glass. Regulus's handsome features then twisted into a sneer. "I can't believe you fell for it" he jeered, the familiar pureblood superiority falling from his words like lead. "Not so smart now, are you, Mudblood?"

Rose raised a dispassionate eyebrow, refusing to let Regulus see that he had got to her. "We'll see, Reggie. We'll see."

Regulus's face twisted at her use of the family nickname, the look in his cold eyes wishing her to drop dead at her earliest convenience. She just smiled sweetly, feeling oddly like Regulus might have beaten her but she had gotten the last laugh.

Sirius pulled his broom alongside hers, concern written into every line of his much more handsome face. "Are you alright, Rosebud?"

"Perfectly fine, Siri" she assured him, pushing away the anger at herself. It wouldn't help at all. However, she could do something about her anger at Sirius brother. "Do me a favour?"

"Anything" Sirius promised, as if he didn't even have to think about it. He never had.

"Please take that smug little bastard you're unfortunately related to down a peg?"

Sirius smirked wickedly, and that was the smirk she had been missing a few moments ago. "It would be my absolute pleasure, love." And with that, he was off, calling to Ian to send him a bludger - he had work to do.

And so the game continued. James, Marlene and Benjy made it their personal missions on the planet to keep hold of the quaffle as much as possible - often with help from the well-placed bludgers from Ian and Sirius - more often than not found hurtling towards the hapless Slytherin goalkeeper. That wasn't to imply that it had been a dull game thus far (the number of goals scored notwithstanding), there had been excitement enough for Remus to comment (however sarcastically) on. Rose had actually lost count of how many fouls there had been in this game. If it wasn't Sirius hitting bludgers at the Slytherins with more prejudice than Madam Hooch was entirely sanguine with (the Gryffindors seemed to love it though), it was the Slytherin team's creative use of the elasticity of the rulebook. James had, at one point, shot a victorious look over to Sirius as Parkinson was cited for quaffle bumping - the foul the team had been almond certain James had made up during one of their practices before the Ravenclaw game. Remus was in raptures down in the commentary box - there had rarely been a game where it was so intense. Usually Gryffindor had the cup in the bag before the final, and never before had Lily asked James to go out and conquer for her - so Rose could understand why it was so energetic out in the sky. Regulus, the cunning blighter that he was, had kept Rose busy in the sky. They traded diversions, unable to afford letting one go - just in case this was the time that they had really seen the snitch instead if deliberately hurtling in the opposite direction from it.

About two hours or so into the game (Rose didn't have her watch on, so she couldn't be sure what time it was), James called a time out. They gathered around their goalposts, James's hair an absolute mess from the wind tearing through it. "What in the bloody name of Godric Gryffindor did you call the time out for, Prongs?" Sirius demanded, James's not so impeccable timing causing him to not hit a bludger at his brothers smug head (for what would have been the seventh time, not that Rose was counting).

James grinned, a slightly manic glaze in his eyes. "We're finally doing it," he announced, as if they ought to have some clue what he was meaning.

Fortunately, they were just as crazy as he was, so they did. Marlene's eyes lit up, the midnight blue magnificent above rosy cheeks. "Now?" she checked, eager.

"No," James drawled sarcastically. "I said that we're finally doing it just because I'm a bastard and I wanted to get your hopes up."

Benjy raised a hand, knowing how little time they had left before Madam Hooch called them back to the game. "Uh, James?" Benjy offered, sharing a glance with Sirius. "You could be being serious right now."

"Certainly not," Sirius smirked irresistibly. "I'm Sirius."

"Shut up, Pads," James groaned, pasting on a more professional mein. "We're doing it. Astra, on our signal, would you finally catch the bloody snitch?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "I'll do my best, Prongs," she replied, hoping James knew what he was doing. Then again, he usually did. She paused just before flying off, turning to smile sweetly at Sirius. "If you see that festering turd of a brother trying to follow me or do anything clever, pelt a few bludgers at him, would you?"

Sirius grinned and saluted, any other reply drowned out by Madam Hooch's infernal whistle.

"Alright, team" James cried, clapping his hands once. "Let's go win this thing!"

Rose pulled up high above the middle of the quidditch pitch (her usual spot during these kind of matches), looking down at the rest of the players. Ian swooped around one of the Slytherin beaters - Rose couldn't tell who from this far up - and hit a bludger straight at Mulciber, the Slytherin dropping the quaffle like it was a hot potato. Benjy snatched it out of the air, a wide grin on his face, tossing it to Marlene.

"McKinnon in possession yet again," Remus confirmed, letting Rose get back to the serious business of scouting for the snitch. "McKinnon dodges Nott, dropping the quaffle to Potter. Potter - did you really do that, Prongs? Oh, apparently so - sticks his tongue out to Mulciber, lobbing the quaffle out to the right. Fenwick has the quaffle, and- what?! What are you doing, Benjy?! The goal's the other way!"

"Mr Lupin!" McGonagall interjected, disapproval heavy in her tone.

"Sorry, Professor," Remus replied, sounding anything but. "Fenwick flies to the middle of the pitch, McKinnon, Potter and Podmore joining him. Black the better looking (sorry, Professor, Rosie dared me to, although I prefer Black, the insufferably smug) is flying around the edge of the pitch, seemingly tailing his brother. Isn't that Rosie's job, Sirius?" A moment of silence then Remus dryly added "Not at all, I have no opinions, Sirius. Please stop threatening me with that bat."

Rose chuckled quietly to herself, still keeping an eye on the game while the other sought the snitch.

"Ahem, yes. So, Gryffindor still in possession. Potter's team seems to be trying something new." Remus let out a quiet chuckle. "Black's come to flank the right side of the group, I wouldn't want to be the Slytherin team right now."

Rose took her attention off the rest of the sky for just five seconds, watching the Gryffindor chasers toss the quaffle from one to the other, flying in an Arrowhead formation while Ian and Sirius protected them from the Slytherins.

"Merlin's Beard!" Remus cursed, almost giddy with expectation. "Potter now has the quaffle, and I don't think McKinnon or Fenwick are going to want to take it from him. It's Potter versus Mulciber and Aubrey. Two Slytherins standing in the way of James Potter's eleventh goal this match. His two hundredth in his quidditch career. Mulciber makes a grab for the quaffle, but-" Remus hissed through his teeth. "Nasty bludger there from Gryffindor beater Black. Mulciber seems to be cradling his arm, that'll teach him to try and snatch the quaffle from a Marauder."

Rose would have chuckled out loud, but a little glimmer of gold just a few yards from her tunnelled her vision. Regulus was behind her, too far away, preoccupied with the chaos her teammates (especially his brother) was causing. And yet, she knew it would only be a second or two before he noticed her. She flattened herself to her broom, spitting out a mouthful of red hair. Regulus would not beat her, not this time, not any time if she had anything to say about it.

Below her there came a tremendous roar. "FOR GRYFFINDOR!". It was James's voice, it was Benjy's, Marlene's, Ian's, Imelda's, Sirius'.

It was caught, echoed by the stands, howling the cry up to the sky. If Rose was a lesser quidditch player, she might have fallen from her broom in shock. The shock of three quarters of the Hogwarts population (including the commentator, their dearly eccentric Remus) yelling out James's chosen battle cry was almost enough to make her slip up. Regulus was a determined blur on her tail, his long fingers reaching out for the snitch, but too late. Rose leaned a little flatter, holding on to the end of her broom with her left hand. With a swipe of her hand - rather like a lioness batting at her prey - Rose enclosed her hand around the snitch.

"For Gryffindor!" Rose yelled, laughing the cry more than cheering it.

She sank down towards the others, catching a miraculous glimpse of the utter devastation and burning hatred on Regulus's features. But no matter. No matter at all. For there was Sirius, laughing and yelling himself hoarse, throwing his arms around her as much as ever they were able. And there was James, face bright with triumph, the quaffle tucked under his arm, hazel eyes swimming with fierce pride. There was Marlene, beautiful in victory, cheering just as loud as any of them, jubilantly pressing a kiss to Benjy's flushed cheek. And, of course, there was Benjy, blushing brighter than the sun, his voice hoarse already but still echoing the cries cheered from the stands. There was Ian and Imelda, looping through the air in celebration.

There were their friends, their balmy landbound friends, swarming the pitch with cheers and whistles, acting like her father had when England had just won the world cup (the football one, against Germany in 1966). And, to put the cherry on top of the icing on the brilliant day, there was Regulus and the rest of the defeated Slytherin team, floating to the ground in a morass of seething hatred and dejection. In short, everything was exactly as Rose liked it to be. They had won the Quidditch Cup - again. The Slytherins were defeated - again. They were going to have a loud, raucous, brash, Gryffindor celebration - again. James had undoubtedly done his best to impress Lily - for once. And Rose had Remus on the ground waiting for her, and her wonderful Sirius in the sky with her.

All was well.

Thank you for reading!

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