Chapter Eight: Quidditch Wing

The next few days of November turned out to be some of the most memorable in Lily's life at Hogwarts, she came to realise. For one thing, it was Sirius's birthday on the 3rd, and she tossed him his present (a book on the greatest Muggle rock bands of the 20th century) as soon as she saw him at breakfast.

"Thanks, Lily," said Sirius, surprised. He ripped open the wrapping, squealed in a very unmanly-like manner once he saw the title, and flipped through the pages.

"I still can't believe you're eighteen," said Marlene, after pecking him on the cheek. "You act like a twelve-year-old."

They had a good day after that. They all gathered in the Head's Tower after dinner, with Peter and Remus stumbling in a bit later laden with Firewhisky. Sirius roared with delight and passed around the drinks, taking two for himself.

"Here's to Padfoot, scion of House Black," said James sarcastically, holding up his bottle. "May he finally grow a pair and move out of my house, I'm starting to get real tired of him…"

"James, you wanker of a dog, you know you love me," mumbled Sirius, throwing an arm around him. "Here's to me!"

The toast was repeated by the rest of their friends, and they laughed as Sirius declared his undying love for James.

Another thing that made it quite memorable was that she'd finally had her girls' night with her previous dormmates, and they spent the time catching up on each others' lives.

She didn't tell them about James. That was, she felt, much too private to share, and she wanted to keep it that way. Her moments of peace were few and far between, for, while nobody had heard what she and James had talked about at the Festival, they'd certainly seen them dance.

Of course, it wasn't all bad. She and James hadn't touched on the subject just yet, but it was still there whenever they were alone in their common room – like some sort of erumpent waiting to explode.

They'd been much more intimate as of late, with Lily reaching out and squeezing his hand whenever she felt stressed, and him reciprocating – but he always seemed to hold himself back, something that Lily didn't appreciate. She wanted to go out with him, she wanted to experience the feelings she'd felt that night at Hallow's Eve – and what better way than to snog the boy who'd caused them senseless?

Sirius had apparently picked up on what had been going on, and once or twice she caught him eyeing her mischievously. She ignored him, as she always did, but it didn't stop her from having second thoughts – what if James wasn't interested anymore? What if, after all this time, she suddenly didn't seem to be worth all the trouble he'd put up with?

Of course, she knew that that wasn't true. If anything, James was more enthusiastic these days, now that they'd finally gotten past the friends phase, but it raised more questions for her: what were they?

More than friends, Lily had answered herself. More than friends… but not quite there yet.

And when would they reach there?

Lily sighed and stopped chewing her pork. All this thinking about James was bad for her.

At that moment, the Head Boy in question sidled onto her bench, wearing a set of Quidditch robes, squeezing himself between Sirius and her; her heart skipped a beat, and her hands became clammy.

James poked her gut. "Had a good day?"

Lily flinched. That bastard knew she was ticklish down there. "Yes, thank you, Mister Tactless – you know how I feel about you doing that…"

"I know exactly how you feel," muttered James quietly, "Which is why I do it, of course."

Lily resisted the urge to pinch him. I know exactly how you feel… was he doing this on purpose?

"You haven't answered my question," said James, raising his finger threateningly.

"Don't do that," hissed Lily, forcing his hand down. "Fine, I had a good day. What does it matter?"

James started piling his plate, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "It matters, love, because I care. Is that too much to ask?"

"No," said Lily haughtily, but she smiled all the same. "It'd help if you didn't bloody tickle me, though."

James laughed through his mouthful of potatoes. "How else am I supposed to get a reaction out of you?"

Lily bit back her tongue. He'd always known how to get a reaction out of her…

Though, she recalled, it had certainly taken a long time to get the right reaction.

"Shouldn't you be practicing?" asked Lily, forgetting that James was wearing his Quidditch robes.

James rolled his eyes. "What do you think I've been doing? I've been out on the pitch since noon."

"Worked us to death, you have," said Marlene miffily from across them. "Mind you, I can't remember the last time my arse hasn't felt like it was moaning in pain…"

"Ah, cheer up, Marly," said James, flashing her a smirk that secretly made Lily's heart dance. "It'll be worth it once we win."

"I think I value my health more, thanks," retorted Marlene.

"You know you love me," teased James good-naturedly. Marlene rolled her eyes and turned to talk to Alice.

The rest of dinner passed quickly. James and Marlene were eating a lot more than usual, noted Lily. She'd already finished her food when they both swooped in, piling their plates once more, and eating as though they'd been Imperiused.

At 9 o'clock she and James returned to the Head's Tower, with James talking about the Quidditch tactics he and Marlene had come up with. Lily always loved it when James talked about Quidditch. His hazel eyes always lit up and he spoke so enthusiastically it was hard not to share in his energy.

Lily squeezed his hand and ruffled his hair and bid him good night, secretly disappointed that he hadn't kissed her once in all the time since Hallowe'en.

"You've got to eat, Prongs," said Sirius gently at the breakfast table, shoving a piece of toast under his nose. "You won't have any strength once you're up in the air."

"I already ate yesterday, Pads," said James, feeling sick to the stomach. "I don't feel so good now."

"Come on, Prongs, just a little bite," said Peter, offering him a bowl of Cheeri Owls.

James pushed it all back, irritated. "I'm not hungry."

Remus sighed. "Every year, Prongs. Do we have to do this every year? Just eat your sodding food."

The others continued to persist, though James knew it was more to rile him up than to actually give him any food. One of the things that came with being a Marauder: everyone was always sarcastic.

"All right!" he said finally, taking Sirius's toast and dumping it into Peter's cereal. He stirred it with his spoon, and he ate it all in a single gulp.

"That's disgusting, James," said Remus absently from behind his newspaper. "Don't call us if you vomit over the Quidditch pitch."

James pointedly ignored him.

"Anything interesting?" asked Peter, satisfied that James had eaten.

Remus shook his head and folded his newspaper, turning to his plate of eggs. "Nope. Nothing about Theodore Plant or Voldemort. No attacks either, they've been keeping quiet."

"We all know how that turned out last time," said James darkly.

Remus shook his head again, an exasperated look on his face. "Prongs, the only thing I want you to think about is this match. You can't afford to be distracted by anything else."

"Fine," said James, annoyed. He massaged his temples, trying to block out anything that wasn't a quaffle. "Have any of you seen Marlene? She's not here at breakfast."

"She's probably already at the pitch," said Sirius vaguely. "Probably doesn't want to see you worked up, Prongs."

"Right." James stood up, adjusting his Chaser's gloves. "I'll see you there, yeah?"

"Make sure you remind Regulus that his house is a pile of erumpent dung, all right James?" said Sirius, clapping him on the back.

"I'll try," responded James drily.

He saw Lily and Alice leave the Great Hall. He hadn't talked to her all morning, except for their usual routine at the Head's Tower, and he so desperately wanted to…

Convincing himself that he wasn't going to throw up on the pitch, he followed her out of the Great Hall.

Lily walked down the path to the Quidditch Pitch with Alice. She hadn't seen Marlene at all that morning, who had gone straight to the locker rooms, Alice had informed her.

And James… she was slightly disappointed that she hadn't seen him, either. He'd been in a hurry that morning at their Tower, and she was afraid that if she'd gone up to him during breakfast, he'd start panicking.

That wasn't an overreaction. Lily remembered (quite fondly, now) how James had been before his first Quidditch match during their third year. He was just slightly more calm than a Hippogriff who'd been insulted.

Alice babbled on about something or other, and Lily just agreed with whatever she said in-between her pauses of breath. They reached the gates to the pitch soon after.

Even from outside, the stadium seemed to be very crowded. Flashes of green and crimson could be seen all around her; the colors for Slytherin and Gryffindor. She looked down at her measly red-and-orange scarf and sighed. She really could have done better in showing House pride.

Just when she was about to enter with Alice, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and nearly choked.

The Gryffindor Captain himself was smiling down at her, looking very good in his Quidditch robes, his hair as messy as ever and his hazel eyes twinkling brightly.

"Hi," said Lily breathlessly. Alice sighed, gave her one last knowing look, and entered the pitch. She could have sworn she saw her smile.

"Hi," breathed James, his words forming mist in the cold November morning. "I just… er, wanted to see you before I played."

"That's good," said Lily. She mentally kicked herself. That's good?

"Right," said James, smiling happily. "Well… wish me luck, yeah?"

She matched his smile. "Good luck, Potter."

James stepped back, ruffling his hair. He saluted her and turned away.

She glanced around her. Most of the students had already entered the pitch, they were very much alone now. Nobody was there to see her.

Lily stood rooted to the spot, staring at his retreating back, her heart racing so quickly it nearly ached.

For once, she decided to listen to her feelings. Lily smiled again, more to herself than to anyone else, and raced after James.

"Oi, Potter!"

James had no time to respond, for as soon as he turned around, Lily grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him closer, and kissed him.

She felt James relax, she felt his lips open as they made contact, and they both sunk deeper into each other's arms. She released his robes and curled her fingers around his face, gripping tighter, inhaling in his scent that smelled so like the forest, not wanting to break apart, wanting this moment to last forever –

Potter, she thought giddily. His lips were soft.

But James pulled back, out of breath and his face very red. His arms were still holding her waist.

James took her face in his hands, a huge grin breaking out. "Merlin, Evans, I –"

A flash of light blinded her suddenly, and she covered her eyes as a familiar voice sounded, "Way to go, Prongs!"

Lily whipped around, finding the Marauders behind her, all with identical grins plastered on their faces. Remus was holding a large camera that was spewing clumps of purple smoke from the top.

"Sod off, you lot," said James, his hand finding Lily's and squeezing it. "When did you get here, anyway?"

"Followed you as soon as you left the Great Hall," answered Sirius cheekily. "We'll save it for the parties, eh?"

Lily rolled her eyes at them and turned back to James. "Don't mind them, they're parasites…"

"I can still hear you, Evans!"

"Fuck off, Black," she said heartily. She stepped back from James, a playful smile on her lips. She could still feel his presence lingering on them…

"I should better go," muttered James, his hand trailing up to his hair. His blush still hadn't faded completely. "See you in the stands, Lils."

"Go smash them, Potter," murmured Lily, giving him one last smile. "Stay safe."

"Where've you been?" demanded Marlene furiously, "The game's about to start!"

"Sorry, Marls," said James, switching out his square spectacles for a pair of Chaser's goggles. "Got a bit carried away with your best mate…"

"What?"

"Never mind," said James quickly, seizing his Nimbus: One. "Ready? Let's go, then."

The Gryffindor Quidditch Team marched out on to the pitch. The stands up above cheered and booed deafeningly. On one end of the stadium, a sea of red and gold decorated the stands; on the other, it was a mass of green and silver.

James licked his finger and pointed it high in the air, feeling for the wind. There was a slight breeze, and the temperature was as cold as ever… but there wasn't a cloud in sight, and the sun shined warmly on his face as he basked in the feel of the upcoming match.

James stepped up to Madam Hooch, who had her foot over the ball crate and was waiting to release them.

"Shake hands," she said, and James grasped Lucinda Talkalot's hand briefly. "Mount your brooms, and on the whistle. Three… two… one!"

Madam Hooch blew the whistle, James and the others kicked off hard from the ground, and in no time they were up in the air.

"Aaaand they're off!" cried the voice of the announcer, 5th-year Hufflepuff Julius Ainsley. "The Quaffle is taken by Salley, he immediately drops it to Johnson – he fumbles and it's taken by Hamish Greene, Greene's about to pass – intercepted by Salley –"

James raced forwards, letting Harley and Paris Salley take hold of the Quaffle; he was all clear, and Salley hurled it towards his end; he lunged for it, grasping the Quaffle with the tips of his fingers; he streaked past Sigmund Dijkstra, the Slytherin Beater; taking aim, he pulled back, he shot, and he let fly –

"GRYFFINDOR SCORE!" bellowed Julius. "Ten-nil to Gryffindor!"

James pumped his fist into the air, scanning the stands, and there he saw her – Lily, sitting with all of their friends, cheering him on –

He could still feel the taste of her lips on his. James grinned, turning back to the pitch.

"Slytherin in possession – bludger to the head by Hector Salley, that's gotta hurt – Quaffle taken by Talkalot, who passes to Greene – he speeds up to the goal post, can Bonham save – yes he can! Gryffindor in possession, is that the Wollongong Shimmy I see? Johnson to Potter, Potter speeds up – ouch, a bludger to his arm – Gryffindor still in possession, it's Salley, Salley all the way – he shoots –"

James watched on with bated breath, but the Slytherin Keeper blocked it, earning a collective groan from one end of the stands. James shook his arm and grit his teeth.

"Pull back! Nice try, Paris, you'll get them next time…"

The match went on. Gryffindor scored six more goals, three of which had been by James, while Charles Bonham had only let in a single Quaffle. James was quite pleased with the way this was going, if they kept this up they were sure to win…

James passed the Quaffle over to Paris, who ducked under the bludger sent by Avery and dropped the ball to Harley. Harley passed up to James, who outflew his own set of bludgers and warped around Albina Aurelius, the Keeper – he tossed it through the hoop, though his aim had been a bit wonky –

"Potter scores! Eighty-ten to Gryffindor!"

James raced up into the air, feeling exhilarated, and he laughed like a madman – this was easy, they were sure to win –

WHAM!

Pain immediately erupted from the back of his head – he lurched forwards on his broom –

THUMP!

Another strike, this time to his side – he slipped off, his fingers gripping the handle – they couldn't hold his entire weight and he could feel his strength waning –

"THAT WAS DELIBERATE!" bellowed McGonagall into the megaphone, pushing Julius out of the way. "ROLANDA, SURELY –"

"Have fun, Potter," spat Avery in his ear. James didn't respond, he couldn't respond, his head felt like it was about to explode, pain came at him from every direction, and his ribs felt as though they'd cracked...

A hand wrapped around his waist, pulling him down gently; they descended down, Marlene gripping onto his robes tightly – James felt his feet touch the ground and he collapsed on the cold grass.

He might have passed out for a moment, but then his eyes fluttered open – Madam Hooch had her wand pointed to him, looking worried – he saw Marlene and the rest of the team gathered around him in a circle.

"Are you all right, James?" asked Marlene.

James sat on his elbows, lifting a hand up to touch the back of his head. "I guess – what happened?"

"Avery attacked you," said Hector Salley bitterly. "Right after you'd scored. He flew up and hit you with his bat. He's being suspended by Professor McGonagall."

Marlene held out a hand, and James grasped it tightly. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine, Mary," said James, shaking his head. It was clearing now, he could see his fingers again. "In the air, everyone, let's go."

Marlene glanced at the others, who shrugged helplessly.

James flew around the pitch in a dazed heap, oblivious to what the Gryffindor stands below looked like.

Lily was beside herself, screeching and hurling insults at the Slytherins – but it was nothing compared to Sirius. He looked livid.

"I'm going to kill him," snarled Sirius, "Avery's going to pay…"

Remus and Peter stayed silent behind him; if anything, they agreed.

The match went on for ten more minutes, by which time Slytherin had steadily added to their number of goals.

"Eighty-sixty, to Gryffindor," said Julius half-heartedly, to groans from the Gryffindors. "Professor, Potter doesn't look so good, maybe he should rest – BLACK AND MCKINNON RACE UP, THEY'VE SEEN THE SNITCH!"

His voice suddenly took on an energized and excited tone; and everyone momentarily forgot about James, who was still flying around in slow loops –

"Come on, Marls," muttered Sirius, his eyes darting between his best mate and his girlfriend, "End it now…"

Marlene sped forth, neck-to-neck with Regulus Black – the Snitch preceded them, darting around erratically – the two Seekers zoomed across the stadium, their arms stretched out –

They dived. Marlene knocked Regulus's hand out of the way and her fingers grasped the tiny golden ball, and she pulled out of her dive just before she hit the ground – she raised her hand, holding the fluttering snitch, bellowing like a banshee.

"AND MCKINNON'S GOT THE SNITCH!" screamed Julius excitedly, "TWO-HUNDRED AND THIRTY TO SIXTY, GRYFFINDOR SLAM SLYTHERIN SIX FEET UNDER!"

As soon as the Snitch had been caught, James spiralled to the ground and collapsed. Marlene immediately descended, her first-aid Quidditch training kicking in. She handed the Snitch to Madam Hooch and dismounted her broom, running up to James.

Lily and Sirius had already jumped from the stands on to the pitch, wearing equal expressions of worry, and were hoisting James up on a conjured stretcher.

"Marls, can you get his legs?" grunted Sirius, his face very white. "We're taking him to the Hospital Wing."

As a single unit, they marched off, carrying an unconscious Quidditch Captain.

James woke up several hours later, lying on a comfortable bed surrounded by cards and boxes covered in wrapping paper. He raised his head groggily.

He blinked, looking around. The sky outside was indigo streaked with crimson. The last rays of the sun shined out from behind the mountains. To his right, two people sat on chairs, leaning on each other, sleeping soundly.

James slumped back on his bed, causing the various boxes to rattle and shake. His head felt strangely heavy; he raised a hand and felt a stiff wrapping of bandages.

Sirius woke with a start. He and James stared at each other, and then he nudged Lily awake.

"Hullo, Prongs," said Sirius, standing up and stretching his limbs.

James felt around his side; there were bandages there too, and there was the unmistakable feeling of having had his bones repaired quickly.

"What happened?"

"Cracked skull and broken ribs," said Madam Pomfrey, bustling over and holding a piece of parchment. "Some of your bones ledged themselves into your brain, Potter, but I managed to pull them back. Nothing to worry about now."

"That sounds like something to worry about," muttered James, feeling the back of his head. "Did I fall or something? I don't remember –"

Madam Pomfrey glanced at Sirius and Lily pointedly and left his bed.

"Well, you see, Prongs," started Sirius slowly. "Avery sort of… bashed your head in."

"Ever the tactful one, Sirius," muttered Lily. She pulled her chair closer to his bed and sat down. "You were really badly hurt, James."

"No kidding," said James sarcastically. "Did we win?"

"Marlene caught the snitch a few minutes after you were hit," said Sirius, a note of suppressed pride in his voice. "We won two-hundred and thirty to sixty."

James let out a sigh of relief he didn't know he'd been holding. "Brilliant. Tell her that I actually love her now, will you, Padfoot?"

"I'll be sure to send her your messages," said Sirius pompously, standing up. His eyes wandered from James to Lily, and he winked at her. "I'll leave you two alone now. See you later."

And he left. James reached out and found Lily's hand, and he massaged his thumb over it. She gripped it tightly.

She had a white brassard on her left arm, noticed James. Stitched to it was a red cross, the symbol for St Mungo's.

"You volunteer for the Hospital Wing?" asked James, surprised.

"Yep," she said. "Been volunteering since fifth year. Looks good on my application."

They sat in silence, fully enjoying the warm of their hands clasped together.

"I guess this means our Hogsmeade trip is cancelled," said James gloomily. "I was so looking forward to it…"

Lily looked at him, an incredulous look on her face. "Honestly, James, I'm just glad you're OK. Forget Hogsmeade."

"It was supposed to be our first date," lamented James. He froze suddenly, his eyes wide. "Er… you haven't changed your mind, have you? Would make things a whole lot more awkward…"

Lily laughed and squeezed his hand. "No, I haven't changed my mind."

James let out another sigh. "That's a relief."

James leaned back in his pillows, watching the sun set and the sky darken. Madam Pomfrey bustled about in her office, humming absently. James found himself tapping along to her tune.

"What is this, by the way?" he asked Lily, after a short pause, gesturing around at all the cards and presents that surrounded him.

"They're gifts, of course," she sniffed, looking slightly irritated. "From your fans," she added to his questioning look.

"I have fans?" James asked incredulously. "Blimey – what'd they send?"

He saw Lily's face in the corner of his eye and laughed. "Honestly, Lil, don't take it the wrong way."

James reached for the box closest to him – it had been sent by one Marlon Abernathy. Sharing a smile with Lily, he opened the present.

He found a light-blue box of black cookies. He didn't recognize the name of the brand, and he glanced quizzically up at Lily.

"They're Oreos," explained Lily, taking the box from his hands and ripping it open, "They're these sort of chocolate cookies with cream in them. Try one, they're really good."

James took one from the box and nibbled it. It tasted pretty nice; he'd never had anything quite like this before. In no time the box of Oreos had been emptied by the both of them.

James kept opening his presents – some of them were cards that Lily read aloud to him, sniggering – others were boxes of Valentine's Day chocolates ("It's not even Valentine's Day, they should try harder," he'd complained) that he was too afraid to open: he feared that they'd been injected with love potion.

Finally, he came to the one labelled From the Marauders, with love. Looking at it suspiciously, he glanced at Lily, who sighed, and unwrapped the box with her wand.

It was one of those photo boxes that James had seen his mother use to stash her precious photographs. James opened it cautiously and found a single square image.

It was the picture that Remus had taken that morning before the Quidditch match. As he watched, Lily pulled him by his robes and kissed him; he saw his face change from confusion to alarm, and then to shock – before finally it set to an expression of blissful relaxation and he deepened the kiss.

James and Lily smiled and closed the photo box.

Finally got around to writing Jily. Read and Review, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!