Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, the Marauders wouldn't have died; they would have lived long, fruitful lives causing mayhem and chaos, like it was meant to be. That never happened, therefore, I own nothing.

Author's Notes: Just like with everything else, this has taken longer than I'd have liked. Posting should be quicker, but I can't promise anything. Enjoy the chapter.

Edit: I changed the last scene of this chapter and the character 'Cassie' was removed.

Chapter Nine

Just Hold On

"I am/ At war 'twixt will and will not." --Shakespeare (Isabella, Measure for Measure)

"James, I'm not too sure about this."

The afternoon air was cold against her skin as she frowned down at him. Bridget pushed the mussed bangs out of her hair, wishing that she knew what exactly he thought he was doing.

"It'll be fine," he replied, straightening up. He frowned at her and swiftly pulled his sweater over his head, leaving him in a thin t-shirt. "Here."

She shook her head. "I'm all right. Really."

"You're shivering," he said simply. When she just stood there, arms crossed stubbornly, James tugged it over her head, leaving her blinking up at him in startled confusion. She pushed her arms through the sleeves, cheeks tinted pink, and nearly pulled away when James took her hands, rubbing them between his. "You're hands are freezing, Bridge." He smiled softly at her. "There. Now, isn't that better?"

"Yes, thanks." Her smile faltered a bit as she realized that it actually was much better. The wool was still warm and the leftover scent of pine and soap and… well... him (and when had she gotten so used to it that she could recognize it instantly?) relaxed her. She sighed. "All right, now what is it you want me to do?"

James smiled widely at her, practically beaming, and picked up the broomstick. He knelt, frowning at something and Bridget found her eyes drawn to the shirt pulled taut across his shoulders. It was a bit distracting; she had no idea what he was actually saying.

"Bridget?"

She jumped and stared at him, flushing red. "Um, yes?" she said in a quiet voice.

"Uh... here. Just... straddle this." James held the broom out for her and she swung her leg over.

It was an... unusual feeling. The broom looked like it would be very uncomfortable to sit on (after all, it was essentially a stick), but it was actually much nicer than she'd expected, something like a really comfortable bicycle seat.

"Okay," he continued. He wrapped his arms around her, much like others had done when she'd been taught how to swing a bat, and adjusted her grip until it actually resembled a golf grip, if at an awkward angle. "Keep it loose, now," he said softly, close to her ear. "Good. Now, you're going to kick off to get off the ground. Keep your knees and elbows in when you're in the air and steer by leaning as much as using your hands." He pulled back, leaving her suddenly cold. "I'm going to get my broom; then we can start."

Good God, what had she gotten herself into?

Flying was a rush, one that Bridget hadn't been entirely prepared for. It was like being in the ocean again, something that she had found herself missing in the past few days. If you knew how to recognize it, you could feel the air currents and how to use it to best move. And there was a sport that went with it; one that made much more sense to than water polo ever had.

She loved it.

"I told you it was brilliant," James said smugly as he leaned against the counter in his kitchen. He took one of the chocolate chip cookies from the plate his mum had left out and bit into it.

Bridget pulled herself onto the counter next to him, swinging her legs gently, and took a cookie of her own. "And I never said otherwise, sweetheart." She frowned. "Um, you have some... come here for a sec." She motioned for him to step closer and, when he did, picked the grass out of his hair. "There we go."

"Thanks."

Oh, boy.

Without realizing it, she'd moved closer to the edge of the counter, dropping her knees open so she could reach him and now he was standing against the counter, very close to her. James seemed to realize their position at the same time. He placed one hand on her hip and reached over with the other to tilt her chin up so that she was looking straight at him, hazel eyes intense as he searched for something in her face. She felt a bit light-headed.

"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?" he asked in a soft, low voice, making warmth flood her body. He hadn't assumed; he hadn't taken advantage; he'd asked. And all she had to do was accept, say that one word or lean forward and tilt her head just so, just enough for him to know.

"James, are you--?" Mr. Potter froze in the doorway. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No. I—"

Bridget cut herself off, dropping her gaze to her lap. She gently pushed James away and slid off the counter. For a moment, they were pressed together and heat flushed her cheeks. Bridget kissed him on the cheek, feeling awkward now that the moment was over and she a chance to realize what she had almost done.

"I'm sorry, James."

And she fled.

Her hand was still aching and she hadn't even been writing; Bridget had spent the last half hour making a simple Sleeping Draught for her Potions placement exam. But it was almost seven at night and, aside from the lunch James had brought for them, she had been taking the multiple placement tests since early that morning. She knew it was necessary because they were going back tomorrow, but that didn't make it any more fun.

Well, except for being allowed to hex James for her Defense practical. That had been very amusing.

"Very good." Mr. Potter smiled at her, placing the vial in the box with her other assignments. "Personally, I'd place you as a proficient sixth year." Bridget tried to smile; that was… good? Right? "Have you considered what you want to pursue after Hogwarts?"

Oh, fun. Career advice. "Um… no, not really. I haven't had much of a chance to come to terms with actually being at Hogwarts, much less think about what I'm going to do next."

"Hm…" Mr. Potter leaned back in his chair like she had seen James do dozens of times, resting his feet on the desk. "What were you going to do in the Muggle world?"

"I was going to go to university. There was no way I wasn't going to go to university." She leaned forward, familiar with having conversations about her future. "Most of my life I wanted to be in law enforcement—I've been told I have the mind for it and it's what I've been around my entire life because of my dad—I was particularly attracted to the F.B.I. or N.C.I.S." She noticed his utterly blank look. "Federal Bureau of Investigation and Naval Criminal Investigative Services. It's… like the Aurors, I imagine."

"You don't have police officers in Hawaii?"

"Um, yes. We do. My dad's chief of police in Honolulu, actually. The F.B.I. is a national law enforcement agency. They deal with federal laws like kidnapping. N.C.I.S. is a civilian organization that investigates the navy, a branch of our military. They're a little more comprehensive than the police force is and often require more… training, I suppose."

"Ah, I understand. Well, if you're still interested, you should consider the Auror Academy. Not many fully trained wizards can match my son in a duel." His face broke into a slow smile. "Of course, there may be another reason for that."

Bridget immediately flushed red. "Um. Well, I dunno. I'm not very experienced with magic and, um…"

"It's okay." His grin was starting to get rather smug; he was looking more like James by the second. "I won't tell my boy, but, between us, I think he may be absolutely besotted with—"

"Dad!" Oh, thank God. James was standing in the study's doorway, hand still on the doorknob. He looked mortified.

"Yes, son?" Mr. Potter replied, sounding rather pleased with himself.

"Were you just—" James cut himself off with a shake of his head, apparently deciding not to go in that direction; it was probably safer, anyways. "Mum wants to know if you're finished yet. Supper's ready."

"Oh, splendid." James's father stood up in a swift, fluid motion. "I do hope we have that Yankee apple crisp your mother is so fond of."

He strode out of the room, leaving behind two red-faced teenagers behind him, staring at each other. Bridget sighed and looked away.

Mrs. Potter pulled Bridget into yet another hug while Mr. Potter looked on with what she could only describe as amusement. "Now, I want you to write every week and make sure my boys write a bit as well. I want to know everything that happens."

"Yes, ma'am." Bridget adjusted her messenger bag nervously and gripped her trunk handle tighter; she didn't like all this fuss.

"And if any of them give you any trouble—and I mean any trouble—you should owl me straightaway and I'll take care of it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And—"

"Mum," James interrupted sternly. He seemed almost as uncomfortable with the situation as Bridget felt. "We have to go; we'll be late for supper."

"Yes, James, I remember when supper is. I also know that you're not going to eat in the Great Hall; you're going straight to the Heads' Rooms and you'll get food from the Kitchens. Your father did the same thing when he wanted some privacy." She turned her attention back to the girl. "I'm sure you'll do fine tomorrow; Henry told me how well you did on your tests. Now, do you know how to Portkey?"

"I just hold on."

"Very good. You'll meet Peter tonight as well. He's such a lovely boy."

Her smile froze in place. Oh, crud. Bridget hadn't thought about that. How was she going to deal with having to meet the man who single-handedly ruined at least six lives? She didn't do forgiveness that well.

"Oh, and James mentioned that you made friends with—"

James sighed heavily, grabbed the Portkey and wrapped his arm around Bridget before anyone-- least of all the girl herself-- could protest. "Bye, Mum."

She couldn't believe she'd forgotten about Peter, of all people. To be completely honest, she had despised Peter Pettigrew more than any other character in the books. Sure, Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort may have been pure evil sociopaths and Malfoy and Dudley were ignorant bullies, but at least they were upfront about it. Peter had, as far as the books had shown, only been a traitor and a coward.

She just couldn't understand how someone could betray his friends as thoroughly as Peter had done. But, this Peter hadn't done anything yet. He was probably quite nice. Bugger.

Bridget jumped when the door opened, watching with wide, frightened eyes as James's friends entered, laughing about something or another. Peter was taller than she'd expected, about her height, and not so much plump as… solidly built, which made him look big when compared with his friends' taller, leaner builds. He had sharper features than any of the other three boys, fine straw-blond hair and watery blue eyes.

She was surprised. Peter wasn't really unattractive at all. He just wasn't… enough. He was average and it made him seem less than he really was. He looked washed out next to Remus's solid, down-to-earth appeal, Sirius's classic handsomeness, and, she imagined, James's boy-next-door charm. The poor thing didn't stand a chance when he was friends with those three.

Sirius strode pass, ruffling her already untidy hair like she was five as he did so.

"Hello, love. How are you feeling?"

He stretched out across the couch until Remus knocked his feet off so he could sit too. It would've been an amusing scene if Bridget hadn't been so worried that she might lose it and punch Peter.

They probably wouldn't take that too well.

"Um," she finally said when she realized they were staring back at her, confused, "I'm fine."

Sirius smiled contentedly, perching his feet on Remus's lap while the other boy scowled at the offending limbs. "Splendid."

Remus sighed—which he seemed to do a lot—sounding rather exasperated by his friend. "Sirius, if you don't get off of me I will hex all your hair off while you sleep," he said calmly. Sirius removed his legs. "Now," he continued in a much more relieved voice. "Bridget, may I introduce the missing Gryffindor, Peter Pettigrew." He waved a hand in Peter's direction. "Pete, this is Bridget Griffins. She's… new."

Gee… thanks Remus.

Peter smiled at her, only faltering when she continued to look slightly frightened. She tried to calm herself. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bridget."

"It's, um, nice to meet you, too," she replied with a small smile that seemed to reassure all of the boys.

"See, Pete, she really is shy."

Bridget groaned, sinking back into the chair. Tomorrow was going to be fun.

Well, it didn't go as badly as she might have expected. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that she had been surrounded by the boys, usually with James's arm draped over her shoulders, but it really could've gone much, much worse.

Of course, that was all before Potions class.

"Stand around the back, please," the jolly-looking man said as they entered, gesturing at the back of the room without looking up. "We'll be starting a term-long project today. I shall pair you up according to House and ability." Slughorn lifted the parchment closer, examining it through his spectacles. "Now, first we have Snape and Brown. Potter and Black." Bridget winced; there was only one other Gryffindor in the class. "Griffins and Evans."

This… was not good. Bridget put her bag on the floor next to the desk and sat down, trying her best not to look at her partner. She could hear the whispers around them and, blushing furiously, realized that the rumors of her arrival must have spread around the school, only augmented by her and James's prolonged absence and his protectiveness during the day.

She sighed. Wonderful.

They sat in a strained silence as Slughorn, now finished reading his horrid list, began making his rounds to all the pairs and whispered conversations broke out around the room. Even Sirius and James were muttering furiously to each other in the desk behind her.

It was just… Bridget didn't know what to say to Lily, and the other girl didn't seem too keen on talking to her, either.

"Well, Miss. Griffins," Slughorn said, having finally reached their table, as he beamed down at them. Bridget felt sick. "I'm surprised you did so well, but I really shouldn't be, should I? With your father's talents in the Potions lab. Of course, I never had the pleasure of meeting him."

She had no idea what he was talking about.

"I'm sure you'll both get along splendidly." Unlikely. "And I saved the best for last. I feel that I can trust you with the responsibility; after all, such attractive girls as yourselves shouldn't have any problem with young men. If only I was a few years younger…" he trailed off, chuckling to himself while Bridget gave him a rather sickened look. There was a scraping sound from the boys' table, a soft thump, and more furious muttering that Slughorn didn't seem to notice. "You two shall be working on Amortentia."

He had to be joking.

She shut the Potions book and tossed it haphazardly on the table.

God, this was going to suck. Lily did not like her; that much was obvious from the first time they'd spoken and the other girl had dismissed her. She was perfectly warm and kind to everyone else she spoke to, just not Bridget, James, or Sirius (the last of which was completely understandable as Sirius was a right jerk to her most of the time).

Nevertheless, they would have to work together and Lily didn't seem petty enough to actively be hurtful. Bridget decided that she'd just have to… she'd have to be determined about it. And let all of the other girl's comments role off her back. She could do that. Hopefully.

"You are not telling us something," Sirius declared as he sat on the couch across from her. He set his feet on the cushion immediately to her right; Bridget decided to ignore it, instead giving him a long, level look.

"You are wise and perceptive, Master Black," she replied dryly as she turned back to her book. She turned a page in the Charms text, wondering why the Index had said the Notice-Me-Not Charm were covered in the chapter when, obviously, they weren't even mentioned. "I now understand why Remus puts up with you. It was starting to confuse me."

"I always assumed it was because of my stunningly fantastic good looks. He never could resist me." There was a short, expectant pause before Sirius spoke again. "Is it important?"

Bridget looked up from her book and straight at him. His gray eyes were steely and serious and his expression, unforgiving. This was the Sirius Black who became an Auror, who people could believe went wrong. "Yes."

"Is it harmful to me or my friends?" he continued in the same calm voice.

She hesitated for a moment. "Possibly. I don't know."

"All right. Points for honesty." Sirius gave her an unreadable look, frowning slightly again. "You've lost weight."

Bridget stiffened and the grip she had on her book tightened until her knuckles were white. She smiled coolly, more the quick upturn of her lips than a real grin. "Gee, thanks for noticing," she said lightly, gesturing at herself. "I have been trying to slim down."

"Don't be ridiculous," he dismissed. This wasn't going to work. Bridget hated it when she was forced to talk about things she didn't want to. It wasn't like it was even anything that bad. "You don't need to and you're not vain enough to think you do."

He got to his feet with more grace than any teenage boy should really have, and took her chin in his hand, examining her face. There wasn't anything threatening or suggestive about the gesture, so Bridget decided not to take offense. It wasn't worth the effort and probably wouldn't work, not when he had more than enough experience mothering Remus and even, apparently, James when he couldn't be bothered to be injured or sick and took stupid risks.

"You've not been sleeping, either," he concluded after he was done, although he still hadn't removed his hand. She started to contemplate the merits of hitting it away, but he lowered it before she could decide. "I can brew a Dreamless Sleep if you like."

"I'm fine." He still seemed skeptical, so she sighed. "Really. Everything's just a little weird and sudden for me; it's nothing to do with anything of yours."

Luckily, that wasn't a blatant lie. Most of the dreams that had kept her up had been about James or the others, but she hadn't had any recently and she was just as likely not sleeping from the stress of the situation at this point. Besides, there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Then she realized he was grinning. Bridget didn't like it; he looked far too amused, as if she had done something inexplicably cute.

"Remus trusts you, Peter adores you, and James sulks when you don't pay him enough attention. Hell, I like you and I don't even want to shag you."

"James sulks if McGonagall doesn't pay him enough attention." She blinked, just processing the last part of his speech. "Oh, wait, what? Ew."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that. See, you fit right in." He smiled again, this time something softer and flicked her chin. It was a little condescending, but mostly sweet. "Love, you are one of mine."

He was right and she didn't want to hurt him. She needed to figure this out.

Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who's read this and waited so long for the newest chapter. Special thanks go out to cocogirl198, and WannaBeNinja for putting me on author alert; Lift the Wings, Wunmiii, Michelle Black a.k.a. Elle, Nevergonnafitin, iloveebfanfics, The Little Lost Lamb, DanceScreamSing, and WannaBeNinja for putting KM on story alert; Wunmiii, iloveebfanfics, The Little Lost Lamb, and SeedsAndMisdeeds for favoriting KM; and Lift the Wings, Iluvdraco55, PieAnnamay07, Wunmiii, Michelle Black a.k.a. Elle, iloveebfanfics, The Little Lost Lamb, and Lou (twice)for reviewing.

Wow. I think that may be the most response I've gotten in a while. Three things. (1) I try to respond personally to every review I get, so, if you want a response and don't have an account, either put your e-mail in the anonymous review or send me an e-mail. (2) If you like this story and haven't yet done so, you might want to check out the companion story to KM, Why Not? It's from James's point of view, and, although not quite up to the same point in time, it should be updated more often until they match up. (3) Please review if you read it, flames will be used to... heat things up? Is that witty enough?

Next chapter should be up soon. Until then, here's the preview...

Next time:

She loved Quidditch. Bridget absolutely loved it; she could already feel the giddiness of an oncoming obsession. She'd always been a bit of a tomboy, having grown up watching or playing every sport imaginable, but Quidditch was even better than football... not that she was ever going to tell her father or brother that.

And Gryffindor had won. Granted, Willow wasn't going to be too happy about losing for a... well, a while, but Bridget really didn't care; James was going to be ecstatic.

She left the Kitchens with Remus, levitating massive amounts of food and drink with their wands. Bridget frowned at the mountain of food in front of her; she still wasn't completely confident about her levitation charm and she didn't want to lose concentration.

"Audaces fortuna iuvat," Remus said to the portrait, before gesturing for her to go first.

"Fortune favors the bold?" she muttered to him. "That's a bit... self-serving for a Gryffindor, don't you think?"

"But it's true."

Laughing, Bridget carefully climbed through the portrait whole. She turned and an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush to another body as the other hand cradled the back of her neck.

The food fell to the floor with a resounding crash in the sudden silence.