When Fiona met Peter in the Quidditch stands before the game, she was bundled up in a Gryffindor scarf and jacket and had red and gold streaks of face paint under her eyes. "I thought I'd make it clear that I'm rooting for Gryffindor today," she explained, seeing the shocked look on Peter's face.
"I don't much care who you want to root for," Peter said honestly as he led her over to his spot in the front with Sirius. "You look fantastic, though." Fiona smiled.
Sirius's eyes were trained on Remus as he took his position by the goal hoops on their side of the pitch. "He looks so frail," he murmured.
"Who does?" Fiona asked.
"Remus," Peter told her; he was worried about his friend, too. "He, er…he's been ill the last few days."
"Again?" Peter flinched, but Fiona sounded more concerned than suspicious. "He's ill a lot, the poor bloke."
Peter nodded. James had lobbied hard to move back the match, but he wasn't able to convince the Ravenclaws and the deal had fallen through, leaving the game less than forty-eight hours after the last full moon. Remus had spent the past day recovering as best he could from the effects of his transformation, drinking as much Pepperup Potion and Blood-Infusing Solution as he could stomach. But Sirius was right: he still looked pale and peaky, nervously gripping his broom as he fought to keep himself oriented.
"The match is about to begin," announced Marlene McKinnon, the school's newest Quidditch commentator and a proud Ravenclaw. "The Chasers are all lined up, Madam Hooch is preparing to release the Quaffle—there it goes, almost directly into the hands of one James Potter—and the game is on!"
Peter and Fiona erupted into cheers as James scored the first goal of the game, swerving around the Ravenclaw Chasers and Bludgers almost effortlessly. Sirius clapped, too, though his gaze kept darting back to Remus every couple of seconds.
"Now Clemmons has got the Quaffle for Ravenclaw—nice pass to Patil there—Patil is setting up to shoot—oh! Nice block from Gryffindor's new Keeper, Remus Lupin!"
Remus wiped at his forehead before throwing the Quaffle out to Mary Macdonald, his throw slow and weak enough to just barely miss being intercepted by the Ravenclaws. But Remus had just blocked his first goal as Keeper, and Peter and Sirius were ecstatic, leaping up and down and flailing their arms around wildly. Fiona laughed.
As the game continued on, each team racking up more and more points, Peter's hand slowly drifted closer to Fiona's until his pinky was brushing against hers. He glanced quickly at her face, watching her lips tighten almost imperceptibly, but she didn't look surprised or like she wanted to pull away, so Peter boldly slipped his hand into hers and clasped it. The skin was chapped in between her fingers from the dry winter air, but her grip was warm and tight. Peter's heart fluttered in his chest at the feel of it. He couldn't believe he was actually holding hands with a girl, much less a girl like Fiona Sakai.
"That's the third one he's missed in a row," Sirius said, drawing Peter's attention away from Fiona. Sirius barely seemed to notice them beside him; all his attention was fixed on Remus, who looked as though he were barely keeping himself upright as another Quaffle flew through the hoops behind him.
"Another ten points to Ravenclaw!" Marlene exclaimed. "Potter should've trained his new Keeper a bit harder before today, because Lupin's looking absolutely knackered after less than half an hour of gameplay."
"Remus does look ill, Peter," Fiona murmured. "Really ill."
Sirius wrung his hands nervously. "Merlin, can someone just catch the bloody Snitch already? I'll go out and do it myself if I have to."
"Watch out!" a Beater yelled suddenly from the pitch, loud enough to be heard over the noise of the crowd. A stray Bludger was barreling right for Remus—Remus attempted to dodge it, but his reflexes were much too slow. The Bludger whacked against the side of his head, hard and sharp enough to make Peter cringe.
"Shit," Sirius said. "Shit."
Remus kept his grip on his broom for one more moment, tottering precariously; then the broom tipped to the side and slipped through his fingers, and Remus plummeted limply towards the ground.
