Author's Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY, JKR, NEVILLE, THE DUDE WHO PLAYS VERNON, AND KRISTEN! Whoo! This chapter is dedicated to all of you. This chapter is exactly what I'd been hoping for, for a change. It wasn't /too/ short or too boring. Not to mention that got it out on the day I promised I would! Yay! Again, no betaing, so tell me how the work is. By the way, some of you were confused about what happened at the end of chapter three. James basically fell out the window, haha...

Thanks to: Everyone who reviewed. I was really surprised that I got a nice number of reviews, with all the problems FanFiction has been having! Thanks everyone!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. :( In fact, I've been told that I don't even own my brain...

Chapter Four: Badonkadonks, French, and Dances

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine," I replied, annoyed, as I let Lily fiddle with my shirt buttons.

She stepped back with a proud smile, looking me over smugly. "Perfect. You're going to show that Raphael man who's boss around here. Kick all them other Quidditch-player-wannabe's-"

"Badonkadonks," I finished immediately, quoting what Sirius had used to describe Professor Sprout's behind. What? It's a fun word.

Lily stared at me blankly for a few seconds, clearly trying to understand what I had just said, but ended up giggling instead. "You're super weird, you know that?"

Unfortunately.

Grinning in her direction, I nodded and pointed towards The Leaky Cauldron. "I have to go. Now. He said noon, sharp, and it's already five minutes passed noon."

"Oh, five minutes," Lily gasped in mock bewilderment, covering up her mouth and all. Unable to think up a retort fast, I stuck out my tongue and whirled around to approach The Leaky Cauldron.

This was the moment I had been waiting for my entire life, the day I had dreamed about every night I wasn't dreaming about washing the gelatin with Lily. Not that I dream about that a lot.

Talking about the bloody woman…

"Evans, why are you following me?" I demanded, turning to face her in irritation. She smiled slightly sheepishly and tucked a bit of dark red hair behind her ear.

"I'm coming with you, of course."

I stared at her dumbly. Say, what?

"What?" I voiced lamely, gazing at her like a fool.

Lily frowned slightly and crossed her arms over her extremely delightful chest. "What did you expect, James? I mean, honestly, would I ever wear these heels unless I was doing something big like this?"

I allowed my gaze to fall from her magnificent chest to her feet. Sure enough, they were clad in think, chunky, black, shiny things. Things I wouldn't wear unless Sirius was paying me ten galleons.

"One small glitch, Licorice Stick. I'm trying to show my boss that I'm a strong, capable Quidditch player, not some nanny-boy who wanders around with their girlfriend. You can't come with me!" I countered wearily.

We might as well get married. At least I wouldn't have Mr. Evans on my back…

Lily stepped forward, intensifying her glare. "James Charlus Potter, have you taken a look at yourself? You've got bruises all down you left leg. Not to mention that you're in cast. I need to be there for you in case something happens."

Yup, and if Lily's stupid Muggle neighbors weren't right there to see my 'suicide jump' and make me use their dim-witted medicine, my arm wouldn't be a ball of plaster.

I sighed, deciding not to retort in the fear of having bruises all down my other leg, too.

"You're not coming," I said firmly, beginning my walk towards the restaurant.

"Yes I am," she replied, right at my tail.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Mr. Potter?"

And just like that, I snapped back to earth. I had somehow made it all the way there and right in front of a booth with a glasses-sporting man-

HOLY MERLIN, RAPHAEL SMITH. My bloody hero is, here, right in front of me, speaking my surname.

I cleared my throat. "Erm, hello, Mr. Smith."

Smith was a tall, muscular man, something he had gained from all of that Quidditch he used to play before he was made manager. He looked around – er, I dunno – twenty years older than me and had on some very fancy looking robes.

"Have a seat, James," He said pleasantly, signaling for me to sit. I sat across from him uncomfortably, followed by Lily, who sat at my side.

There was an awkward silence as he handed me a sandwich. Not a menu, no, a sandwich.

I stared at my tuna on rye stupidly.

"Oh, well, you were five minutes late, right? So, in that time, I was able to buy you a sandwich," Smith announced, clearly sensing the tension, "I'm sorry that I didn't buy two, I didn't know you would bring a friend."

I cast Lily an 'I told you so look', but handed her my sandwich as she blushed slightly. "That's okay," I muttered truthfully, "I'm not too hungry at the moment."

"I see," Smith muttered with a mouthful of his own sandwich. He swallowed with what looked like a lot of difficulty and looked over at Lily, "On that note, who are you, darling?"

Good question…

"Bodyguard," I replied, just as Lily blurted out, "Girlfriend."

Damn girls and their need to tell the truth.

We exchanged looks as Smith raised an eyebrow. "Which is it, then?"

Again, good question.

"She's my girlfriend, Lily Evans. I, er, said she was my bodyguard because bodyguard means girlfriend in French," I muttered.

Very ancient French?

Smith gave me a look. "Ha, really? I have some French background, and from what I know, that isn't correct-"

"Hey, James can speak French," Lily interrupted, looking keen towards changing the topic.

I looked at her, bewildered. I know about as much French as a pigeon's toenail does.

Smith looked interested. "Really? Say something, James. Let's see if I can understand you."

I stared at him blankly. I know, I know, way to pull a Peter.

"C'mon, James," Lily muttered through clenched teeth, stepping on my foot from under the table, "You can say something. Oui?"

I gulped. Let's see… If Peter were here, he would probably compliment Smith's nonexistent tie. Nah, not that I don't like the kid, but I'm not one to normally let things like this peter out. Haha, get it? Okay, never mind. Remus…well, Remus would have already memorized the whole French language in case he ever got in a situation like this. Now Sirius. Hey, wait, Sirius once used this French phrase on some girl. Excellent, it's probably flattery…

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?" I asked proudly, remembering the phrase exactly.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Smith had stopped chewing and was staring at me, as Lily laughed nervously and scooted closer to me.

"You did not just ask your future boss to sleep with you," she hissed through her teeth nervously.

And that, right there, is my luck.

I, too, laughed nervously, as Smith swallowed his sandwich bite whole. "I'm sorry, son, what was that?"

Need an alibi. Hmmm, alibi rhymes with nearby, which is a synonym of near, which sounds like nerd, which reminds me of Lionel Smith.

"Lionel Smith," I said suddenly.

Smith narrowed his eyes somewhat. "Yes, James, that's the name of my son."

Lily choked on her sandwich as I choked on…well, nothing.

Lionel Smith was the loser who had been forced to share a dorm with us Marauders. Not only was he emotionally disturbed, but he was probably the geekiest thing, since, well, books. I mean, he was the guy who always had a handkerchief in his pocket 'just in case', who wore thick glasses even though his vision was fine, just because he didn't want his parents to feel bad about wasting the two galleons they spent on them, and washed his robes only once a month to save water. To put it nicely, he hated me.

"Why? Do you know him?" Smith continued.

I blinked. "Er, sorta…"

Lily gave me a small smirk, as I tousled my hair anxiously.

Now Smith looked interested. "Oh! Are the two of you friends?"

I opened my mouth to say yes, but couldn't bring myself to. See what hanging around total pillows like Remus does to a person? Instead, I decided to use an excuse. Thinking very fast, I snatched Lily's sandwich from her grip and stuffed the whole thing in my mouth. Smith widened his eyes in surprise, as I began flailing my arms widely.

Lily, luckily, seemed to get my message. "He can't answer, Mr. Smith; he's chewing," she explained, a strained smile on her face. I nodded, swallowing with a LOT of difficulty.

Smith was looking at me with narrowed eyes, almost examining me. It was one of those times I was praying I wasn't 'buggered with a booger' as Sirius might have addressed the issue. In normal-people's-language, I was feeling very self-conscious.

"So, how long have you played Quidditch?"

Lily and I both sighed in relief together. Changes in topics for the better tend to make people sigh like that.

I pretended to be thinking the answer over. "Well, er, I learned how to fly when I was two, but didn't start Quidditch until I was three." I smiled smugly and raked a hand through my hair. Well, until my hand hit a knot. Then I winced really hard.

Damnit, I knew I should have combed my hair before I came.

I untangled my much-emotionally-scarred hand as subtly as could, which wasn't very subtly, mind you. After peeking over at Lily and Smith, though, I was relieved to see that their eyes were still wide in shock, indicating that they hadn't noticed my little hair dilemma.

Smith soon smiled casually and looked me over. "Chaser?"

"Yup," I replied abruptly, "Have been all my life. Although, I prefer seeking. I'm very persistent, you see. That's how I got myself Lily over here."

Lily blushed from next to me, causing Smith to chuckle heartily. I smirked, knowing that Lily would do anything to crawl under the table right now. It's satisfying to know you can have this effect on people isn't?

"Excellent sense of humor you have, Potter," Smith mused, "Now if you don't mind me asking: How did you break your arm?"

And just like that, I froze up. I mean, honestly, what was I supposed to say: That I had tripped over Lily's lamp cord and fell straight out her window, landing right on her neighbor's picnic table? That's what someone truthful would say. Good thing I'm not truthful…

"I fell off my broom after someone charmed my broom's seat to get slippery while I was in mid-air. I landed near Muggles, so I had to use their remedies," I replied quickly. Lily practically fell off her chair at my lie, so I instantly grabbed her.

Smith, whose faced went from sympathy to annoyance in a millisecond, gave me a scathing look. "Potter, why are you groping your girlfriend?"

I looked down to see a flushed Lily push me away, and then I realized quite exactly where I had been holding her. Score for the Pottenator?

There was an awkward silence, as Smith heaved a sigh and stood up. Lily and I both looked at him curiously.

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you at the Magpies' stadium at our first practice of the season – the first of September. You're going to have to work extra hard, as you're the youngest member on the team. I'll be of a much help as I can. Albeit, I'm sure you'll do excellent. Welcome to the team, Potter." Smith smiled slightly and turned around. I stared dumbly as he marched away.

And suddenly, there was a high-pitched squeal and Lily was hugging me with all her might, "James! You're a Quidditch player!"

"I know," I whispered, looking at her in amazement, "I am, aren't I?"

Lily simply beamed and gave me a quick kiss. It wasn't slow, hot, and passionate, but it got me just as excited and I returned it happily.

After dancing our way out of the restaurant - you know, like one of those dances that you think of four years later when you're asked what your most embarrassing moment is - and out onto the streets of Hogsmeade.

Looking positively bubbly, Lily took my hand and looked me in the eye. "I'm so proud of you, James." And I simply smile, staring back into those dark green eyes.

I felt my nose wrinkle as I noticed something – her smile hadn't reached her eyes. I know, I know, I sound like some emotional guy in a leotard from your great aunt's favorite novel.

"What's wrong, Licorice Stick?" I asked softly, releasing her.

The smile stayed on her face, "Nothi…" Her voice trailed off, though, as I gave her a 'yeah, right' look.

Sighing, the smile washed away just like that. It's sort of sad, knowing how fake it had been. "James, what's going to happen to us?"

"What do you mean?" I replied abruptly, hoping very dearly that she wasn't asking me to propose.

Sighing, Lily looked at the dirt path underneath us. I waited patiently for her, staring at her silently. Okay, so not too patiently; I was practically tapping my foot by the time she answered. "Quidditch has always been your thing and I'm honestly ecstatic that you're going so far with it. But professional Quidditch players are famous. They're on tabloids, their social lives are common knowledge among teenage girls, and they're extremely rich. Far too rich to be going out with jobless muggleborns. And I know that doesn't matter to you and you care for me, but what if the fame and fortune catches up to you?"

And what if I get run over by an overweight penguin and lose my leg, disabling me from playing Quidditch?

"I dunno," I replied truthfully. Obviously, this wasn't the right answer, as she let out a small sigh and crossed her arms. Never ever mistake these as 'questions with no correct answers', men.

I smiled slightly at her worry and curled a finger under her chin, bringing her head up so we were making eye contact. "But I do know that there is this really powerful thing called love which prevents things like that from getting in a couple's way. And I also know that I love you."

It took her a few seconds, but a huge smile slowly overtook her pretty face. I smiled and pulled her into an embrace. We broke away after what may have been hours, and for the first time, I noticed that we standing in the middle of a crowded Diagon Ally.

I turned to face Lily, but before I could say something, a look came over her. No, not like the 'constipated' look or anything too bizarre, but more of an 'I just got an idea, which may end up in a few people in pain' idea. Not that I'd know.

I raised an eyebrow, deciding not to wait around and see, "Let's go."

"No."

I frowned. "Why not?"

"We have to go home," she suddenly insisted, taking my hand and readying herself for Side-Along-Apparition.

I wrinkled my brow. "Wait, don't you want to go and celebrate or something…?"

"No," she replied sharply, "I have something which I need to take care of for you."

I shrugged and obliged.

A/N: So...how was it? Good? Bad? Really good? Really bad? I think you can expect another update by next Tuesday or Wednesday. Or maybe even Monday, who knows? Now, I have a poll I know I'm not the poll type, but I promised the friend I made the poll with that I would put this on the net. So vote if you can, please. :)

Who would you rather pie?
A- Draco! Ew, the guy's like, emo...
B- Snivellus... Make sure it's a shampoo pie while you're at it. Gosh.
C- Harry. Good guys need to go DOWN!
D- Dumbledore. Creepy, creepy man. AND I ALWAYS KNEW HE WAS EVIL!
E- Sirius, so I can lick the pie off his face...(I have weird friends, haha)