Finally! James had scheduled Quidditch trials. I glanced around the common room for any sign of James or Freddie, or even Al, (who was allowed to hang out in the Gryffindor common room when there wasn't a Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match on), but they didn't seem to any Potters, nor Weasleys, there. Which was odd, really, because they were everywhere. Except Hufflepuff; they hadn't taken over that House. Yet, anyway.

I grinned to myself, slipping out of the portrait hole, lugging my rucksack along with me. It was a short journey up to the Owlery, and I was glad that nobody I knew had seen me. James was going to kill me for what I was about to do.

I held out my arm, and a beautiful barn owl perched on it. I stroked his feathers, smiling. "Hey, Apollo. I've got a letter for you to deliver." Apollo nipped my fingers affectionately, his big eyes staring up at me trustingly. I grinned, carefully slipping off my rucksack and digging for the letter I'd already prepared. Apollo held out his leg patiently, and I tied it on. "This is for Ginny Potter, okay? In Godric's Hollow."

Apollo clicked his beak, which I think is a good sign, and he flew out of the Owlery window. I grinned nervously; James was going to kill me when he found out that I wrote to his mother on Lily's behalf. But this is my last year, too, and I am not going to let Gryffindor lose to Al and that Malfoy git anymore, and Lily is our best chance. I may not be too good on a broom, but I do know my Quidditch. I have to, being best mates with James Potter. I've been to more professional Quidditch matches (along with all of the Hogwarts ones; James was convinced that the ones that he played in were practically professional) than the normal human being should be forced to watch. Lily Potter has definitely inherited her mother and father's skills on a broom, and if James would quit being a stupid older brother (I know all about those; I have four) then he would see it, too.

I watched Apollo fly off until I couldn't see him anymore, and I picked up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and smiling at the school owls before leaving the Owlery. I loved owls, but there were too many mice and rats in there. I hurried down the stairs, and my trainer slipped on one of the wet steps, and I screamed, knowing I was about to fall down the whole staircase.

Until I fell into something hard and sturdy. Arms encircled my waist, and warm breath hit my neck. I heard a chuckle, and I scrambled to my own feet, looking at my savior/captor.

"Hey, Jenna," said Gabriel Vega, his lips twitching. He smiled breathtakingly. "Have a nice fall?" He joked, his chocolate-y eyes twinkling.

"Not exactly," I muttered, trying to scowl but failing. Gabriel Vega, a seventh year Ravenclaw, was one of the hottest and most charming guys in all of Hogwarts. It was almost impossible to be anything but happy when he was near you. So far, I had managed to elude that particular experience. Until today. Until today, I had thought all of those girls idiotic and stupid; no guy could elicit those feelings just by being there. But I was wrong. "Um, thanks for not letting me die, Vega."

"It's Gabe," Gabriel corrected, smiling. "And no problem. Have a nice day, Jenna." He made sure I was steady on my feet, and started up the stairs toward the Owlery. I was dumbstruck. Glancing over his shoulder, Gabriel called teasingly, "Watch out for that step. I won't be there to save you this time." Despite the teasing tone, his warning felt sincere, and I blushed with gratitude and embarrassment. Carefully avoiding the wet step, I walked on eggshells until I reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Password?" She said, bored, looking me over without any real interest.

"Dumbledore's Army," I said in an equally bored voice. The Fat Lady and I did not have good relationship. Since third year, she ignored me, and I ignored her, unless I needed to get through the portrait hole.

"Jen! Where the ruddy hell have you been?" yelled Albus Potter, grinning like a madman. "Me and Scorp have been waiting for you." He perched himself on the arm of the chair that Malfoy sat in, still grinning at me. None of the Gryffindors seemed to think anything was wrong with having two Slytherins in our common room, so I followed suit, not making any comment about Malfoy's presence.

"What do you want with me, Al?" I said warily, frowning. Albus was an evil mastermind, which I think is what got him into Slytherin in the first place (why couldn't he have just gotten into bloody Ravenclaw?), but I digress. Anyway, he's always got plans and plots, and he tried to use us as cronies. Bit like Draco Malfoy with his two idiots, Crabbe and Goyle back in Harry Potter's day. But Al doesn't have any nitwits to use as lab rats, because unfortunately, Malfoy's a bit too smart to get in too deep in Al's plans. Not that he isn't brilliant; it's just sometimes things tend to… well, explode.

Al Potter + potions ingredients – professorial supervision x the Marauder's Map = disaster.

"Nothing, nothing," Al said jovially; a little too jovially. "Just wanted to see one of my mates."

"Whatever your scam is this week, Potter, I want none of it," I said, with a reluctant smirk. "Last time I got involved, I had to get half of my hair regrown and my skin was gold for a week."

"You looked wonderfully!" Al exclaimed.

"I looked like a bloody sarcophagus!"

"No yelling in the common room!" Rose Weasley interjected, hands on her hips, looking freakishly like her grandmother, Molly. She looked at us and scowled. "How come whenever there's a fracas, it's always you guys?"

"Hey!" Al yelled, frowning. At Rose's murderous glare, he lowered his voice. "It's not always me! Blame James, Freddie, and Jen; I'm hardly ever here! I'm a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake!"

"And we all know what a bloody shame that is," James said jokingly, grinning at his younger brother, cousin, Malfoy, and me. His hair looked extra-ruffled, and I'd guessed he'd just gotten done flying. "What's going on?" He ruffled Rose's bushy red hair, grinning at her scowl and ducking her flying fist. "Uh, uh, uh! No violence in the common room, didn't she tell us that once, Jen?"

I grinned. "Yes, she did." James smirked at Rose, who grumbled under her breath. I laughed; I loved Rose to death, but she was a stickler for the rules and it got old fast.

"So what are we all doing here? Partying without James?" James's eyes lit up and he grinned. "Planning my surprise party?"

I rolled my eyes, ruffling his already mussed hair. "Deflate your ego, bud. Al was trying to trick me into doing one of experiments again. Besides, you know nobody can plan a party as well as you and Fred. Plus, even if we tried, we couldn't keep a secret from you." James grinned proudly, and I added with a smirk, "Because you're too bloody annoying."

James scowled at me, flicking my nose lightly, and Al, the Malfoy git, and Rose laughed. "I'm not annoying," James said stubbornly, but quickly he grinned, relenting. "Okay, maybe I am. But so what? You lot love it."

"No, we love you," Rose corrected, trying not to grin. "I'm pretty sure we could all go without all of your 'I'm-James-Potter-and-I'm-bloody-amazing' annoyingness."

"I second that," Al put in quickly, grinning at his older brother.

Scorpius followed suit. "Couldn't agree more, Albus."

Just because git-face agreed, I took James's hand, smirking. "I like his annoyingness."

"No you don't," Rose said with a knowing smirk. "You just won't agree with Malfoy."

"I have a first name, you know," Git-face interrupted rudely.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Rose and I said simultaneously, then looked at each other and grinned. We high-fived and Malfoy jumped out of his chair, stalking off to the other side of the common room. Al frowned at us.

"You two could be a little nicer, you know," he chastised softly, looking at his friend with something like compassion. I sighed, and Rose looked a little guilty, too. Albus's expression turned righteous, and he smirked at us. "Now apologize to Scorpius, won't you, guys?"

Rose and I sighed. "Oi, Mal- I mean, Scorpius!" Rose called. "Come back over here, will you?" At Scorpius's scowl, she added exasperatedly, "Please?" After a few minutes, he acquiesced and sat back down in the chair by Albus, looking up at us expectantly.

"We're sorry, Scorpius," I muttered.

"We'll be nicer from now on," Rose said, and I knew it was mostly for Albus's sake. For some odd reason, Malfoy was Al's best friend, and Rose loved Al, so I knew she meant what she said. But me… Oh, what the heck. I'd try, too, if Rose was going to do it. Follow the crowd, Jenna, good going.

"Merlin, are you two gay or something?" James exclaimed, big brown eyes wide. Rose and I looked at him sharply, and he realized his mistake. "Not that I have anything wrong with that," he added quickly.

Al rolled his eyes. Obviously, he expected this sort of thing from his sort-of a Neanderthal brother. "Shut up, you," he said gruffly, but his gaze on his brother was affectionate, as if he'd missed James's thoughtless remarks. I then realized that, really, they didn't get to be just brothers much at Hogwarts. James was one of the figureheads for Gryffindor, emblazoning what it meant to be one of us, and Albus was a Slytherin. Suddenly, I had an epiphany. Maybe that's why Albus was so peculiar about how we treated Malfoy. He knew what it was like to be the hated one. Well, a Potter in Slytherin, with all of the old Death Eaters' kids in there, what would you expect? His dad put theirs in Azkaban. I felt a surge of big-sisterish affection for Al, feeling an urge to ruffle his locks and kiss his cheek fondly, but I held it in. Al would be seething, and James would wonder (aloud, no doubt) who had put me under the Imperius Curse.

I settled for a happy grin and a friendly one-armed squeeze. Al looked at me oddly, but shrugged. "So, other than the fact that Jen's obviously gone crazy," James started, giving me a weird look, "what else is new here?"

"Fundraiser for the Guatemalan Witches' Association for Orphans," Rose said, thrusting forward a crumpled piece of parchment that someone had probably pulled off of the notice board and had tossed on the floor. Of course, Rose would be the one who would pick it up and read it. Reading and cleaning, some of Rose's favorite things. Al snatched it, smoothing it out and reading through it with mild interest.

"It's mostly for babies and children not yet old enough for schooling- well, not magical schooling, anyway," Al amended, pursing his lips slightly. "I think I'll send this to Dad; he's always looking for charities to give to."

"Dad's always on about how he doesn't want anyone to have his childhood," James murmured to me, shrugging and rolling his eyes. "He gives to almost everything; he's the person who made it possible for the Wolfsbane potion to be distributed to all werewolves, free of charge. He does it anonymously." That made sense. Harry Potter was one of the richest people in Britain, but nobody knew how he spent his money. He was known as a money grubber in gossip magazines, because, besides presents for his wife, children, relatives, etc. and home expenses, there was no trace of money spending from him. Anonymity seemed to suit Harry Potter fine; he was one of the most modest rich people I'd ever met. Not that I'd met many rich people, mind you.

"Well that's boring," Scorpius said mildly, trying out his newfound acceptance into the group. Besides the scathing look James gave him (What can I say; James didn't promise to be nice to him), everyone looked at him expectantly. He grinned, two unexpected dimples flashing in his cheeks. "I think we should have a proper sendoff for the end of the first month of school."

Scorpius smirked, which Albus returned almost immediately. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" At Scorpius's curt nod, they high-fived, whooping. "Who's up for a party?"

I surveyed the Room of Requirement, grinning. "The little whelps did alright for short notice," James said approvingly, grinning at the room full of people and the fully stocked bar (Al, Scorpius, and Rose, [who, despite her rule-obeying ways, was surprisingly good at filching alcohol from Hogsmeade- leaving proper payment, of course-] had taken a trip down the one-eyed witch's hump for a liquor run), along with a good supply of food from the kitchens. Those little elves were surprisingly helpful when asked; they'd offered to bring us a roast, if we'd wait a few minutes.

"Hey, there's Morgan!" James shouted, the only way to be heard over the music blaring from Andie Thomas's Wireless, pointing to a tall blonde girl who was flirting with Darrin Biggs near the end of the drinks table. "I'm going to go see if she'd like to dance."

"You realize she's with Biggs, right?"

James smirked. "Not for long, Jen. How you underestimate me." He sauntered off, and I almost laughed out loud when he walked up to the pair and began talking, slowly pushing Darrin out of the way. Ten minutes later, Darrin was alone, looking confused as James led Morgan Goode onto the dance floor. James had made a new record.

"I didn't realize you attended these kinds of parties," said a familiar voice, and I whipped around, surprised to see Gabriel Vega standing there, holding a plastic cup in his hand, smiling amusedly.

"All the time," I said smoothly, grinning in spite of myself. "My best mates are the ones who usually plan them all. I'm usually out there somewhere, dancing." I nodded to the packed dance floor, where James and his stolen date had been swallowed.

"Like to dance, do you?" Gabe questioned, his tone sincere. He took a sip from his cup and wrinkled his nose, making a face. "God-awful, this stuff. Do you know who made it? The punch, I mean- the Firewhiskey is excellent. This on the other hand…" He shrugged, using his wand to Vanish the offending drink and refilling his cup with the aforementioned Firewhiskey.

"A bit, yeah," I admitted, feeling a little awkward after the glow of talking to Gabriel Vega had worn off. I wonder if this was what people felt like talking to Al, James, and Lily. I took a drink of my punch and choked it down, making a face; Gabe was right; this stuff was awful.

Gabriel took the drink out of my hand smoothly, tossing his now-empty cup into a waste bin with mine. "Want to have a go then?"

"At what?" I said, distracted, glancing around for James.

"Dancing?" Gabriel laughed, holding out his hand, using his other one to muss his hair cutely. I looked from his hand to his face, my brows pulling together for a moment before I grinned.

"Sure, why not," I exclaimed, grabbing a half-full bottle of Firewhiskey and downing a quarter of it. It burned, but it was a good, familiar burn. I took Gabe's hand and started to pull him onto the dance floor, my body already moving to the beat of the song. Time to start enjoying the party!

Albus's POV

"Successful night, I'd say," I said mildly, glancing at Scorpius's blond head behind me. I heard him chuckle, and I imagined him rolling his eyes.

"Of course it is," he said dismissively, smirking. "Party planning; it's child's play. Who can resist a good party on a Friday night with free food and plenty of drinks? Even if it's short notice, it's just the building blocks of our operation."

Now, hold up- despite what everyone thinks, Scorpius is the real mastermind of our whole friendship. I'm just more confident around other people; Scorp chokes up because of everything his family has done to society in general. Me, I'm just the kid who was getting beaten to a pulp in the Slytherin common room on my first night as a first year- that is, until Scorpius stepped in. Despite him only being a first year, too, he still had enough pull with the family name Malfoy to get them to quit. Though that protection has only lasted me when he is around, so I escape to the Gryffindor common room as often as not, though I don't tell them why I do it. My brother would go insane. He would kick ass first, ask questions later. It's not that I don't trust him- it's just the way that he's wired. He wouldn't understand that beating the shit out of all the Slytherins that torment me would only make it worse. Even Scorpius's influence is limited, especially if it's two Potters that they're dealing with.

Oh, Salazar. What was I saying? Oh, yes. Scorpius. Right. Well, Scorpius had great aspirations, and he knew I could help him reach them. He saved me for that reason, mostly for the Potter name's influence in the magical world, but since then, we've become friends. He wants to strike it rich and bring respect and influence back to the Malfoy name – not to just the sons and grandsons of Death Eaters, but to the whole magical community in general, and even some Muggles, if it helps his ideals. Scorpius isn't picky about the whole blood status thing, he's just very cunning. Besides that, he's a Gryffindor, all the way. Sometimes I think the hat mis-Sorted him…

"Oi! Potter!" Maggie Thomas shouted, grinning like a she-devil. She nodded to Scorpius, and her grin was still wide. That's what I loved about Maggie; she didn't give a damn. "Malfoy! How's it hanging?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes, grinning. "Very well, Mags. How've you been?"

Maggie stuck out her tongue, wrinkling her nose. "Enough with the formalities. We aren't adults, and this isn't one of those fancy soirees your parents dragged you to when you were a kid. I am sixteen years old, and I'm half-baked. Talk to me like a person, Malfoy, and not a businessman." She grinned, slinging an arm around his shoulders and landing a smacking kiss to his cheek. "Take that to the grave, Scorp, baby." She cackled madly, releasing a dazed Scorpius and grabbing my hand. "Come on, Al – we're going to dance!" Another thing I liked about Mags; she didn't give choices, nor did she think about anything that she did. She just did it.

"Righto, Mags," I replied, though I don't think she heard me- she was too busy pushing through the crowd of people on the dance floor, pulling me along with her the whole way. Once we reached the middle (it seemed like the middle; we were squashed from every angle, so that's what I assume), she wrapped her arms around my neck and started dancing, her short black dress riding up her thighs with all of the movement. I couldn't help but glance down, and Mags saw it. She smirked, dancing in the most provocative way she could think of, and I pulled her closer. There was only one girl for me, and that was Margaret Grainne Thomas. She knew it, and she used it, but there was no hope for me; I'd already fallen. The only bad thing: Mags didn't love anyone, and she used me for her own purposes, 'repaying' me with some of the most incredible sex I've ever had. Hi, I'm Albus Potter, and my best friend and the only girl I'll ever love both use me just to suit their own purposes, but I love them both anyway. Did I mention I'm also a sucker? Well, Mum and Dad ought to be happy; James and Lily turned out alright. Two out of three isn't bad, not bad at all.

Ω

Freddie's POV

"Hey, Potter," Kylie Pickett called invitingly, unbelievably bold compared to her friends, who were huddled beside her, pointing and giggling. "Looking good."

"Back at ya," James replied smoothly, a confident smirk on his lips, as always. Kylie merged back into her little group, and they departed, a giggly mass walking in unison down the Charms corridor.

"Man-whore," I taunted, with a conspiratorial wink.

"And proud to be," James shot back, grinning. "Besides, as if you have room to talk. Don't think I didn't see you with Hannah at the party… and Jess, and Lila." He scoffed, ticking off the girls I had flirted (and made out) with on his hand. "Need I go on?"

"Oh, shove off, little cousin," I grumbled, shoving him a bit for good measure. He laughed crazily, mussing his hair, and ducking out of my way for good measure. Damn it, James, I thought, amused. He's always been crazy, but ever since he's discovered girls, he's gotten worse.

"You know you can't beat me, Freddie," he shot back, with a grin that was so James. His brown eyes were bright with mischief, not unlike my own. "But you know what they say?" he breathed, daring to get within punching distance.

I could have broken his glasses, just to have a little fun, but I didn't. James was right; no matter how hard I tried, he was always one step ahead of me. I wanted to know what he was going to say too badly to fuck with him. "What do they say, James?" I asked, feigning indifference.

"If you can't beat'em, join'em!" James's crazy grin lit up his face. "I've got this idea…" He continued to give me a detailed plan on how to sneak into Quoin's office and mess with the Swelling Solution that Vinnie Goyle had left to brew in our last class. "… I mean, we aren't going to change it too much," James was saying, "just switch a few things around until it explodes. Goyle will get bad marks for brewing a bogus potion, he'll get swollen and have to stay in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the class, (which is a present, honestly, if you think about it- getting out of Potions to hang out with Boot?) and we get the enjoyment." He smirked, satisfied.

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. Although Potions was the one subject that James was absolutely brilliant at (it was scary, really; you couldn't trust any drink he gave you for fear of some potion might be slipped into it), blowing things up were more of Albus's area of expertise. Although Al is always trying to make something, the little voice in the back of my head nagged, James just wants to blow up something of Goyle's. Which, of course, is perfectly acceptable. I sighed, throwing up my arms. "Fine, we'll do it. But let me tell you this right now- if this is anything other than a prank on Goyle, - more specifically, if you get me sucked into one of Albus and Malfoy's schemes- I'll… I'll…" James smirked, knowing that I couldn't beat him up physically, (I just couldn't freaking catch him!) and I narrowed my eyes. "I'll tell your mum that it was you who destroyed Nana's clock."

James's eyes widened, and I knew I had him. When we were twelve, through some sort of accident (it had to be an accident; I don't think James would intentionally break Nan's heart) that the adults and everyone except me, could never figure out, Nan's precious clock that told, not the time, but the whereabouts of her sons, daughter, and husband, was torn to pieces. It was able to be fixed, but Uncle Fred's hand wouldn't go back on. They all took a turn at it, they tried everything, but nothing would get it back on. Nan was distraught, and Aunt Ginny was on a rampage to find out who had done it. James never said how or why he had done it, but I knew it was him. "Fine, fine," James blurted quickly, shaking his head. "I swear on the Marauder's map that I won't get you mixed up in one of Al's schemes." He held out his hand expectantly. "Deal?"

"Deal," I said triumphantly, smirking. "Now, let's go get some dinner. I assume Jenna will be in on this plan?"

"Have you been popping potions?" James nearly shouted, rolling his eyes. "Jenna would never intentionally screw with someone's homework, unless it's Malfoy. I don't know why, but she's got it out for him, badly." He shrugged, shaking his head. He looked at me shrewdly. "Don't tell her about this. I'll never hear the end of it."

"Alright, alright," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Well, when are we going to do this? More importantly, what are you going to tell Jen you're doing? She's going to notice you gone, since I assume that this is going to take some time."

James frowned. "Well, I really hadn't thought about that…" He shrugged. "I just thought it sounded cool."

"Are you sure this isn't Al's idea?" I demanded, knowing that James, being as easily distracted as he is, was very susceptible to the Confundus charm. And I also knew that Albus wouldn't be above using it on his brother; Al was very dedicated to making his own name to get out of the shadow of his father's, and he thought that inventions were the way to do it. Unfortunately, Al's presence just tended to cause eruptions and explosions of all sorts. Unfortunately for everyone but Albus, that is- for some odd reason, he seemed to get some creepy satisfaction from it. Slytherins, I tell you.

"Yes," James said vehemently.

"Let's just get some dinner," I grumbled, shaking my head. I glanced at him, and grinned. "I think I know how to keep Jenna distracted." At James's questioning glance, I added, "Gabriel Vega."

James's brows pulled together, confused. "That dog-looking Ravenclaw? What's he got to do with Jen?"

"'Dog-looking'?" I asked, amused.

James made a few gestures that I couldn't understand, his face screwed up as he tried to explain. "I dunno; he looks like one of those Labrador's that Aunt Hermione has. All golden and… dog-like." He shrugged. "So what does he have to do with Jen?" James repeated, frowning.

"That's who she left the party with last Friday night," I said quickly, smirking before I realized my mistake. I rushed to clap my hand over James's mouth, but I was too late.

"Last Friday night, yeah, we danced on table tops, and we took too many shots, think we kissed but I forgot, last Friday night!" James sang, mimicking a sexy dance (it might've been sexy, but as it was also my very male and very cousinly cousin who was doing them, there was no way to tell) while still eluding me.

"James, shut up!" I screeched, running to catch him while trying to plug my ears. James had become obsessed with this song last summer, after he had heard it on Granddad's Muggle radio. He wouldn't shut up with it for anything.

"Last Friday night, yeah we maxed our credit cards, and got kicked out of the bar, so we hit the boulevard, last Friday night!" James shook his ass, grinning at me. He paused for a moment, and I jumped on him, tackling him to the ground. We rolled a few times, until I had him pinned. He just looked up at me, wiggling his nose to right his askew glasses, and asked, "Freddie, what's a credit card?"

I rolled off of him, trying not to grin at my stupidity. Nothing brought James down, and it was just dumb for me to even try anymore. I hadn't seen James really upset since… well, since we were kids and he broke Nan's clock. "Let's just go find Jen, yeah? And quit that singing."

Ω

As it turned out, James didn't know what 'quit' meant, so I had to endure a chorus of Call Me Maybe, I Kissed A Girl, Waking Up In Vegas (James really likes this Katy Perry girl), and the horrendous 'Friday' by that Black girl in America. Hopefully she isn't related to James's namesake, or he would be so disappointed.

"Can't you shut up for just a minute?" Jenna exploded, exasperated, looking at me helplessly while gesturing to James, who was grinning proudly. Of course. I shrugged, (It's James; what can you do?) and Jen scowled. James started chattering away again, and Jen got a look in her eyes I didn't like. Before I knew what had happened, James had a face full of pudding and Jenna was smiling triumphantly. "Well, it got him to shut up," she said defensively, grinning. (Hell, maybe I did like that look of hers)

James blinked owlishly behind his vanilla-frosted glasses, and he licked around his mouth, smacking his lips. Amazingly, he laughed. "Thanks, Jen! I do like this pudding." He then proceeded to steal a spoon out of Rose's hands, scrape it against his cheek, and shove it in his mouth happily.

"How do you even do that with a straight face?" Rose asked disgustedly, wrinkling her nose.

Jenna, struggling to keep from laughing, murmured, "Well, his face isn't really straight, you see- he's smiling." She dabbed her finger on James's other cheek and licked off the pudding. "He's right; it is pretty good. Try some, Freddie?" She held out her finger to me, and James offered his face. (Don't. Even. Ask.)

"Um, no thank you," I muttered, shaking my head. I mean, my lord! Now she's licking pudding off of his face. When would they realize that they were perfect for each other?

Flash! I blinked, shaking my head. "What the hell was that?"

My little cousin Louis appeared from behind a large professional-looking camera, grinning. "Sorry, Fred. I had to get a picture of this for Aunt Ginny. She wants me to document all of James's embarrassing moments so she can use them against him, but I think she'll want this as well; she needs a bit of a laugh."

Well, I couldn't argue with that. Ginny had been getting more and more morose with Granddad's progressing illness. I think, despite that she calls him a nutter for his Muggle fascination (which both of her sons happen to share), she is truly a daddy's girl. There had been no getting her to smile for a week after she'd learned that Granddad was sick. It hit her hardest out of all of the adults, except perhaps Nan, but she understood that Granddad's time was soon approaching, whereas Ginny could not accept losing her father. Dad had always had a soft spot for his only sister, and he had made it his personal mission to invent some prank worth eliciting a smile from her. He had even extracted help from all of the nieces and nephews, along with Roxanne and me. It seemed to be the whole family's mission; now even little second-year Louis was in on it. Even James hadn't been getting into quite as much trouble as before. Now, I said quite; he was still James, after all. No matter what Jenna said, we would all have been disappointed if James had completely lost his mischievous streak. Especially me; we are getting on that damned map before we had to relinquish it to Albus, Rose, Roxanne, and that lot.

"Are you two finished eating James's face, or do I have to write you up for PDA in the Great Hall?" Rose asked, pursing her lips and trying not to look too bored.

James, getting a gleam in his eye that I knew very well, smiled sweetly at our dear cousin. "You don't have to write us up for that, Rosy-Posy," he simpered. He and Jenna shared an evil look, and I frowned, feeling a little left out. "You'll have to write us up for this!" And they pushed a cream pie into Rose's face. What is it with James, Jen, and pushing food into people's faces?

Left out or not, the look on Rose's face was priceless. She was stunned, as expected, and she seemed frozen to the spot. All of Gryffindor table were staring at her, watching the scene unfold, and half of the Great Hall was getting in on this little comedy, as well. Jenna, sensing Rose's return to the real world, shouted, "Run!" Grabbing James's hand, she leapt across the table and practically flew across the Great Hall, she was running so fast. James was right behind her, looking behind him and grinning cheekily, waving cockily at Rose before turning frontwards and disappearing into a corridor.

Rose's mouth opened, and I think my ears started to bleed. "I'm going to kill them!"

Ω

Jenna's POV

"How long do you think it will take Rose to find us?" I asked breathlessly, grinning at James. We were stashed inside of a broom cupboard that was kind of hard to find unless you leaned against it and fell through, like James had done in our first year, when Teddy still had the map.

James wiped his sweaty brow, and he shrugged. "It's Rose. So, if she hasn't enlisted the help of every Weasley family member in the school, she'll never find us. But if she has – and you know she has – … well, you know how we are." He grinned proudly, and I rolled my eyes. It was his fault they were all so bloody good and sneaky; he taught the lot of them how to be.

"Well, none of them have the map, so we should be safe for a while." At James's guilty look, I glared. "We do have the map, right?"

James shifted uncomfortably. "Well, um…"

"You mean we shoved a pie in Rose's face and ran away without the map?" I whispered, terrified. Rose Weasley had her mother's brains and her father's temper and bad sense. If she found us after we humiliated her in front of the whole school, even if it was just one of our stupid pranks, she was going to kill us. She would kill us. She would find the Marauder's map from James's dormitory, steal the invisibility cloak from Albus, enlist the help of all the Weasleys and Potters… "She's going to kill us."

James grinned nervously. "Not if we hide in the one place that isn't on the map."

"The Room of Requirement?" I asked, exasperatedly. Almost everyone knew about that room by now; it was our usual party spot. Well, I guess not many people knew how to use it, they just knew that it appeared when we partied.

"Why not? It's not like they can get in, thanks to Allie's information from her dad." Allie Longbottom, Professor Longbottom's only daughter and our fellow seventh year, had weaseled out of her dad how to make the Room of Requirement impenetrable to outsiders in our fifth year.

"But it's not like we can stay holed up in there forever," I pointed out, frowning. Rose would get us eventually, and surely McGonagall had seen, or heard, what we'd done. "How many points do you think we lost?"

James shrugged, unaffected. "Fifty? Maybe more, if McGonagall's in a bad mood today. But it's no problem; we'll win them back in the Quidditch match after trials tomorrow." He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Are you going to come watch?"

"I suppose," I decided, shrugging. I hadn't really planned on it; I didn't want to be around if Ginny told Lily why she would get the position and the little imp ratted me out, but I did usually come see James's trials to judge his choices. For some reason, he valued my opinion on Quidditch-related topics, for all that I can't play. "If I don't have anything better to do," I added with a smirk, nudging James playfully.

"Like what?" James scoffed, grinning. Alright, fine; he knew that I loved watching him fly, but that didn't mean that he could use that. For all he knew, I did have something better to do.

"Maybe I have a date," I said slyly, turning my head away so he couldn't see my face. The truth was, Gabe had asked me out for the day of the trials, but I declined, knowing James would expect to see me there.

"You? A date?" James rolled his eyes. "Who'd ask you out?"

I rounded on him, glaring. "Lots of people."

"Sure, sure," James said, rolling his eyes. Suddenly, he cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Do you hear that?" He asked quietly.

I strained to hear something that could have worried James, but all I could hear was our quiet breathing and the hoots of the owls on the other side of the corridor. "What are you ta–"

But I was cut off by the cupboard door opening and a shrill scream greeting us in the doorway. With her flaming red hair puffed up around her face and murderous blue eyes, Rose looked like the devil come to take us to hell. I suspected what waited for us now wasn't too far away from that, either.

Ω

Al's POV

"God, Al," Maggie whispered, her eyes rolling up into the back of her head with pleasure. She rolled onto her side and ran a hand through her already-mussed hair. She inched close to me, brushing her lips over mine in a way that drove me wild. "You are amazing," she whispered, her eyes shining in the dark moonlit room.

I raked my eyes over the girl who owned my heart, but didn't want it. Her bare legs were tangled up in the pale blue sheets of the bed, her caramel skin gleaming where the moonlight touched it. One of her hands rested on my bare chest, blood-red fingernails glinting, and the other rested comfortably between us. Her mocha eyes were closed, and her curly hair cascaded gently down her shoulders, except where it stuck up cutely on her scalp. Her lips, so plump and sensual that it made me ache to kiss her and make her mine, just by looking at them, were slightly open, a soft sigh slipping through. I leaned in to kiss the beautiful mouth, but hesitated. Her eyes opened, and those lips turned up into a grin. "Why are you staring at me?" She said, faux self-consciously. She batted her eyelashes like a coquette, and I hardened my heart. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was doing it to fuck with me. For one second, I had hoped… but then, I had always hoped. The look on her face after we made love, the contentment that I felt when she rested in my arms… I hoped, and she always proved me wrong.

"Because you look… odd." I wrinkled my nose with distaste, and she narrowed her eyes, her expression annoyed. I felt a triumph; I may not win the war, but the least I could say was that I had won some battles.

"What do you mean, odd?" She snapped, scowling. She sat up, fixing and fluffing her hair, almost absently.

"I dunno," I said casually, knowing that with every second that passed, Maggie got more and more paranoid.

Maggie got out of the bed, pulling on her skirt. "You are such an ass, Al," she hissed, pulling on my white shirt and buttoning it up.

"That has a Slytherin badge on it," I offered helpfully, watching as she ripped it off and flung it to the floor. Not that it mattered, I had plenty of shirts, but she flung the badge away as if touching something Slytherin would burn her. She didn't think Slytherin was good enough, so how could she think I was good enough? Who would really care for the renegade Potter, the Slytherin in the family of noble Gryffindors? "Sexy, Mags," I threw in sarcastically, giving her my practiced sardonic smirk.

"Go to hell, Potter," she spat, grabbing her bag and rushing out of the Room of Requirement. She slammed the large wooden door, and I sighed, burying my face in my hands. I ran a hand through my hair, and I tried to tell myself that it would be okay. The awful things that we said to each other were for a purpose. The less I cared, the more she wanted me. The more she wanted me, the harder I fell, and I couldn't give up my fix now. As much as I hated it, I just had to play the game. Albus Potter was fighting back.