A/N: Thanks so much to last week's reviewers: SecretBlack, Leeease, Cassie Weasley, MissArtemisFowl, MaryandMerlin, Silver Scorpion, EchoNightFall22, Kriish, Evisawesome, BrokenFaerie16, Mrs. Belikov814 (I'm not really sure on the number of chapters…I just sort of write, and see where it ends up!), stars-and-sons, and theycallherkaush!

Rose replied to my reply last week. Honestly, can someone explain to me why this girl is still reading? Anyway…no snarky response from me this time—not worth it.

Who's going to see DH at midnight this week? (I probably won't, since one of my friends is coming to visit me this weekend, and I promised I'd wait and go with her. Either way, I'm SOO EXCITED TO SEE IT!)

Chapter 14: Swan Dive

The Thursday night before Gryffindor's Saturday match against Hufflepuff found me—shockingly—in the library. I was searching for a book on Patronuses for an essay Galbraithe had assigned. We'd touched on the subject last year, and I'd found it fascinating how the silvery protectors supposedly represented the individual's personality, like a wizarding Zodiac sign. Of course, I'd immediately tried the spell to see what shape my Patronus took. It turned out to be a doe, so I don't really know what that said about me—that I was skittish and timid? Not exactly flattering—but I'd been interested enough despite that to look up more on the topic in the library. I'd found a great book, one that would be perfect for the essay I was currently trying to write . . . but of course the stupid thing was nowhere to be found. My fascination with Patronuses was waning quickly in light of my frustration.

"Damn it," I said quietly, shoving A Comprehensive Review of Defensive Magic back into the stacks forcefully. I had half a mind to write a letter to the author informing him that the book didn't deserve its title if there was no mention of Patronuses between its covers.

"Taking your anger out on inanimate objects? Not exactly a healthy coping strategy, is it?"

I jumped slightly at the unexpected voice—I hadn't seen anyone enter the row I was currently searching. Turning to find its source, I found myself looking into A.J.'s grinning face. Part of me immediately noticed the way his light eyes nearly shone in the low lighting of the library, and this observation momentarily blocked out all other thoughts. I promptly slapped that part out of the way and told it to stop acting so silly.

"Yes, I have a personal vendetta against books that I sometimes just can't control," I said, sighing dramatically and pleased with myself for recovering so quickly. "I'm in therapy for it, though."

A.J. laughed quietly. "Good—the poor books don't deserve to suffer the famous wrath of Lily Evans," he said, patting the spine of a book beside him.

"Famous?" I repeated skeptically. "I hardly think so."

"Are you serious? Your temper is legendary, my dear."

I wrinkled my nose. "Not really something I want to be known for."

"Well, don't worry—it's mostly well known only as it concerns one James Potter."

It was my turn to laugh. "You're making that up—no one pays attention to what Potter and I do."

"Maybe not by choice, but it's rather hard to ignore when you're shouting at each other across the common room. I'm fairly certain all of Gryffindor and probably at least half the school has witnessed a James and Lily row." I blushed slightly—A.J. was right; I'm sure I'd made a spectacle of myself over the years where Potter was concerned. Though that had changed this year, hadn't it? We'd only rowed . . . what? Well, all right, a fair number of times, but nothing compared to our usual display of tempers. Plus, you're friends now, I reminded myself.

As though he'd read my mind, A.J. continued, "But those might be a thing of the past, since you're friends now, aren't you?"

"No," my old Potter-hating self answered automatically. I winced. "Damn, I have to stop doing that. I meant yes. Or, that's the general . . . idea, anyway."

Throughout my babbling, A.J.'s eyebrows had climbed higher and higher on his forehead, and a bemused smile now stretched across his lips. "The 'general idea' is that you're friends? What does that even mean?"

I sighed. "I don't know. Okay, so, I've had sort of a—a revelation, I suppose you could call it, this year. I've realized—and I fully understand how stupid this is going to sound—that Potter's a decent person, and that perhaps it's been unfair of me to hate him for so long, so we're going to try and be friends." I winced again and resumed looking for the Patronus book, too embarrassed to see A.J.'s reaction. "Merlin, that sounds quite pathetic and juvenile, doesn't it?"

"A bit," he agreed easily, and I did look at him then to shoot him a glare. "But it also sounds pretty straightforward, so I'm still a little confused about your uncertainty."

I sighed again. "Well, I don't know how I'll know if we are friends—I mean, nothing's that different between us, and I'm sure we'll still fight—"

"I think friends are allowed to fight, Lily," A.J. said, amused. "That's not a very valid measure of friendship."

"Well, then, that's exactly the problem! How'm I supposed to know if we're friends or not if nothing has changed? I mean, I can't even call him—" I broke off.

A.J. raised an eyebrow. "Can't call him what?"

"I can't call him by his first name," I mumbled quickly, looking away again. A.J. snorted. "Oh, shut up," I snapped. "He doesn't use mine, either."

"Sure he does," A.J. said, sounding surprised.

I looked at him sharply. "What?"

"He calls you 'Lily,'" he said.

"No, I'm pretty sure I would have noticed that," I retorted.

A.J. shrugged. "Okay, maybe he doesn't call you that directly, but when he's talking about you, he does."

I stared at him. This was unacceptable news. I refused to be more pathetic than Potter. "Well then," I said determinedly. "James it is." Though I'd never admit it to anyone, the name felt decidedly strange coming off my tongue.

"See, now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" A.J. teased.

I shoved him in annoyance. Either I wasn't aware of my own strength, or A.J. hadn't been prepared for my reaction, because he stumbled backwards, knocking several books off the shelf in an attempt to keep himself from falling over. I reached out and grabbed his arm to steady him. "Sorry," I said. "Though I should warn you, I'll hit you much harder than that if you tell P—James about any part of this conversation."

A.J. held up his hands. "Consider me sufficiently forewarned."

I looked at him shrewdly. "You haven't promised not to tell him," I pointed out. Friends or no, I'd had enough experience with James—and the Marauders, come to that—to let A.J. get by without a solid agreement.

He grinned as we knelt to pick up the books he'd displaced. "Fine, I promise."

I picked up the last book, glancing at its cover before sliding it back into place. Freezing with my hand halfway to the shelf, I stared at the title: Patronus: Protector or Personality Test? This was the book I'd found last year, and I wondered vaguely how I hadn't remembered the title. Looking up at A.J., I smiled brightly at him. "Thanks," I said, and, leaving him looking slightly confused, I returned to my table.

OOOOOOOO

"I'm actually kind of nervous—is that weird?" I asked Mary Saturday morning at breakfast.

"No," she informed me. She sighed nostalgically. "Lily, I'm so impressed by how much you've grown this year. Friends with James, nerves before Quidditch games, and an almost-boyfriend—"

"Okay, will you stop with that?" I demanded, looking furtively around for A.J. I spotted him farther along the table, eating with his teammates—thankfully out of earshot. "Honestly, you and Potter are far too obsessed with my love life." I frowned. "Which is actually kind of creepy on his end, though, in light of that, I would like to take the chance to say: I told you so. In fact, I can't believe I've taken this long to rub it in your face—this clearly means he is not nor was he ever in love with me." I gave Mary a 'ha-ha, so there' look.

"Well, it doesn't prove he wasn't in love with you, though I suppose it no longer really makes sense to think he's still in love with you."

"Who's in love with you, Evans?" Potter's voice asked pleasantly from behind me.

I sent Mary a look that said I'd get her for this later, before turning and replying in what I hoped was a convincing we-haven't-just-been-talking-about-you voice, "No one, Potter."

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to assume that," James replied, glancing pointedly to where A.J. was approaching with the rest of the team.

I glared at him. "I thought you promised not to bring that up until after our bet expired."

Potter made a little bow to me. "That I did—my apologies, Evans."

"Ready, O Captain my Captain?" A.J. asked with a cheeky grin.

"Absoultely, Rookie—I'm just making sure Evans is actually coming to the game today."

"I'll be there, Potter," I promised with half a glance at A.J. to see if he too was thinking about our library conversation. By the way he met my gaze with a careful innocence, I assumed he was, though there was a hint of mischievous sparkle in his eyes that I didn't trust.

"Good," James replied. "Right, team, we're off!" he added in a louder voice.

I shivered as Mary and I sat down in the stands along with Andrew, who'd joined us to watch the game. "Brrr, it's freezing up here!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms to try and hold in what little heat I had left after walking down to the pitch. "I think it's colder than when we were here for your game, Andrew."

He glowered at the mention of the game—Mary said he'd been sulking ever since.

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to bring it up—"

Andrew shook his head. "No, it's all right. I should probably be over it by now, anyway," he added with a somewhat bitter grin.

"Yeah, it's only a game, right?" I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. But apparently this was one of the worst things I could have said.

Andrew stared at me as though I'd suggested he should murder his mother. "You really don't understand Quidditch, do you?"

A little hurt, I just shrugged and turned awkwardly to watch for the players to emerge from the changing rooms.

"What the hell is your problem lately?" I heard Mary hiss to Andrew.

"What? You know how much Quidditch means to me!"

Mary snorted. "But that doesn't mean you have to be a prick about it! Honestly, Andrew, ever since that game, you've been incredibly dull to be around, sulking all the time—"

"Oh, well I'm sorry that I'm not a bright ray of sunshine every minute for you! Maybe you could try being a little understanding, as my girlfriend."

I was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable, and was almost glad when Mary jumped up and said, none-too-quietly, "Well, maybe I won't be your girlfriend much longer!" and stormed from the stands.

"Wait, Mary—I didn't mean it!" As Andrew hurried after her, trying to apologize, I quickly took back what I'd thought about Mary leaving. I didn't really fancy watching the game by myself—not that I minded doing things alone, but Quidditch games were more of a social activity.

"Lily!" I looked up as someone called my name, and was, for nearly the first time in my life, immensely glad to see Dorcas and Marlene climbing up the rows towards me. "Can we sit with you?"

"Sure," I said, and my dorm mates proceeded to take the seats Mary and Andrew had just vacated.

"Did you come here by yourself?" Marlene asked, almost pityingly.

"No," I said quickly, though I wasn't sure why I felt I had to justify myself to her. I explained briefly about Mary and Andrew's argument, and barely refrained from rolling my eyes as Marlene and Dorcas exchanged intrigued looks. "Oooh, I wonder if they'll break up?" Dorcas asked, sounding positively thrilled by the idea.

"I'm sure she'd appreciate that," I muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Just then, the noise level in the stands rose abruptly, and I looked up to see the two teams entering the pitch.

"God, doesn't James have the cutest butt?" Marlene sighed as the two Captains stepped up to shake hands.

"You say that at every game, Marlene," Dorcas pointed out. "And several times between games as well."

"I know, but it's true!" Marlene defended. "Don't you think so, Lily?"

I was concentrating too hard on not laughing to be worried by the sly tone in her voice. "Mmm," I agreed, figuring I might as well play along.

I pretended not to see the knowing looks that Dorcas and Marlene exchanged as the players took off into the chilly air.

"Wait, who's that?" Dorcas asked, pointing to A.J. as he soared above the rest of the players to afford himself the best vantage point to search for the Snitch.

"A.J. McMillan, the new Seeker," I supplied, pleased to be able to contribute something that Marlene and Dorcas would find worthy of gossip.

"What happened to Chloe?" Dorcas inquired.

Before I could answer that too, Marlene jumped in, "She quit after she and James broke up, remember?"

"Oh, that's right."

"So A.J.'s the new Seeker?" Marlene continued with a grin. "Nice choice, James," she said in an appreciative tone that I was sure had nothing to do with A.J.'s potential talent.

"He's got a nice butt too," Dorcas commented.

"Which is exactly why James chose him, I'm sure," I said seriously. Marlene and Dorcas looked at me oddly, and I just smiled to myself. Honestly, those girls have no sense of humor.

They continued to gossip throughout the match, not paying much attention to the game itself at all. I participated occasionally, but, as I've said, I had a fairly low gossip tolerance, so I mostly watched the Quidditch, which is what I'd come to do, after all.

It was still exciting, though slightly more confusing, without James's commentary. Nevertheless, even my inexperienced eyes could tell James had put together quite a good team. He and his Chasers, Mickey Marshall and Ellen Dawson, moved as a seamless unit, passing the Quaffle between each other almost too quickly for me to follow. Sirius and the other Beater, Maren Quincy, protected their Chasers and harried the other side fairly well, for the most part. I made a mental note to complement Sirius on his exceptional Beating skills the next time I saw him.

I'd always thought Keeper would be the most difficult position to play, and was duly impressed by Jordan Kapper's ability to swerve among the three hoops to prevent Hufflepuff from scoring. They made some goals, of course, but the score had soon risen 100 to 30 in Gryffindor's favor.

I watched A.J. occasionally, but he wasn't that exciting to follow, as he mostly flew slowly back and forth searching for the elusive Snitch. However, shortly after Ellen had scored Gryffindor's fifteenth goal, A.J. finally got some action. Apparently spotting the Snitch, he went into a steep dive, Hufflepuff's Seeker close on his tail. Concentrating on the tiny winged ball in front of him, he didn't see the Bludger sent his way by one of Hufflepuff's Beaters; neither did his teammates, wrapped up as they were in the Seekers' race to the Snitch, until it was too late.

A.J. noticed the Bludger just before it collided with his head, and he swerved sharply to avoid this unpleasant fate. However, maintaining one's seat when one swerves in the middle of a dive is nearly impossible, and A.J. tumbled off his broom. Luckily, his pursuit of the Snitch had brought him near the ground, so he didn't have far to fall. But by the way Marlene and Dorcas—as well as half the people in the stands—screamed, A.J. might as well have been attacked by a crazy ax murderer.

I rolled my eyes. It had been a little scary to watch A.J. hit the ground, but he was clearly—

"I think he's been knocked out!" Marlene exclaimed worriedly, hands over her mouth.

Oh. I guess he's not okay, I thought, a little guiltily. I didn't think he'd fallen quite so hard, but Marlene was right—he wasn't moving.

Preoccupied as everyone was with A.J.'s injury, it was a few minutes before the news began to spread slowly through the stands—the Hufflepuff Seeker, unimpeded by Bludgers, had caught the Snitch. Hufflepuff had won. I groaned along with everyone else, but more for James's sake, as I knew how much he'd hate losing to Hufflepuff.

"We're going to go see if A.J.'s okay—see you, Lily!" Dorcas called to me as she and Marlene hurried down through the stands.

I followed at a slower pace, rolling my eyes again. It's not like there'll be anything they can do. Besides, they're not friends with him or anything—they didn't even know who he was before the game started! He won't care whether they went to check on him or not. Not to mention he won't even know, since he's unconscious! I wasn't sure why I was getting so defensive, but I supposed sitting with Marlene and Dorcas throughout the game had more than fulfilled my silly girl quota for the day, and this latest move was just more than I could handle.

I stopped near the bottom of the stands and watched the proceedings at the other end of the pitch. A.J. had been magicked onto a stretcher and was currently being directed by Madame Pomfrey towards the castle. As he passed under me, I hopped down the last two rows of seats to fall into step with James, who was following A.J.

"Sorry you lost to Hufflepuff," I said.

James grinned at me. "Hey, Evans—it's all right, they only just beat us, so I think we'll still be okay for the Cup."

"Oh, well that's good."

"And I think A.J.'s going to be okay, too," he added with a sly wink.

"I was so worried," I said sardonically.

"So, did you enjoy the game? Up until the losing part, that is."

"Yeah, it was alright," I said. I told him what had happened with Mary and Andrew.

"Merlin, Evans, at this rate you're going to single-handedly break those two up," he teased.

I wrinkled my nose. "God, I hope not—Mary would never forgive me."

"Did you sit by yourself, then?"

"No, Marlene and Dorcas came to sit with me. We talked about your butt," I added matter-of-factly.

"Sorry?"

I nodded. "You heard me. We discussed A.J.'s as well."

"So, overall, a fairly good game, then," Potter said, grinning. "And what, may I ask, were the conclusions concerning the rear ends in question?"

"No comment."

"Aw, come on, Evans."

"Nope."

"Well, you're no fun at all. Anyway, you heading up to visit A.J. and his fabulous bum?"

"Okay, enough with the butt talk. And if that's where you're going, sure, I'll come with you."

Potter grinned at me. "Right, making it sound like you'll come along because you have nothing better to do—but I'll bet you were so worried when you saw him hit the ground."

"Oh yeah, you know me," I said sarcastically. "Maybe if Dorcas and Marlene hadn't screamed my bloody ear off, I'd have been able to concentrate enough to show concern. Honestly, I don't know what they were so worked up about—it's not like he died or anything."

Potter snorted. "Well, he'll appreciate the sentiment, I'm sure."

"Oh, shut it, Potter."

We hung around outside the hospital wing for a bit while Madame Pomfrey saw to A.J., the rest of the team joining us as well. She absolutely would not let us in until she'd brought him round—and really, it's not like we could have done much when he was unconscious, so none of us protested her orders. Finally, we were allowed into the room, though Madame Pomfrey limited the number of visitors to five, so only Sirius, Ellen, Maren, James and I gathered around A.J.'s bed. He had a good-sized lump on his head and still looked slightly dazed, but he grinned when he saw us.

"Sorry to let you down, Captain," he apologized to James.

"Well, I'll forgive you this time, Rookie," he replied. "Even if you did make us lose to Hufflepuff—it wasn't strictly your fault."

"Yeah, I should've had you covered," Sirius said.

"Anyway, they only beat us by thirty points—" James continued.

"—so if Slytherin doesn't clobber Hufflepuff—" Ellen started.

Sirius snorted. "Right, fat chance of that."

"But they're only fifty points ahead of us right now, aren't they?" Maren asked.

"Yeah, so if they only win by fifty or so . . ." A.J. said.

The Quidditch talk continued, and I sort of spaced out disinterestedly. So when I suddenly found everyone looking at me expectantly, I knew I'd missed something. "What?"

"I said, I didn't know you cared," A.J. said with an evil grin.

"What?" I repeated, definitely wishing I'd been paying attention.

"I told him how you were in hysterics about him, wondering if he was all right," Potter said pleasantly.

I glared at him. "Potter, that is not bloody true, and you know it."

"Right, well, it's better than what you did say," he retorted.

I turned to A.J. "Don't listen to him, he's just—"

But Potter continued to talk over me. "I believe the exact quote was, 'it's not like he died or anything.'"

A.J. laughed. I cringed and glared harder at Potter.

A smug smile on his face, he looked back at A.J. "Anyway, there's still going to be a party, since we clearly should have won, so if Pomfrey lets you out anytime soon—I'm sure it'll go on all night, as usual."

"I'll be there," A.J. said confidently, which I thought was a little optimistic, seeing as how Madame Pomfrey had been known to keep people overnight for a paper cut.

OOOOOOOO

But to my surprise, A.J. showed up about halfway through the party, which is the perfect time to come, actually, because it's late enough that people are entertainingly intoxicated but not too far gone to be out of control or puking everywhere.

"Rookie, you made it!" James shouted immediately upon his arrival. Shoving a drink into his hand, he dragged him over to where the rest of the team plus Remus and Peter were gathered near the fire.

"I can't believe we lost to Hufflepuff," Mary muttered for about the tenth time that day. She and Andrew, thankfully, were still together, and she'd passed along his apology to me when she'd returned to the common room a couple hours ago. "I'm glad I wasn't there to witness it. At least it's finally made Andrew get over losing to Slytherin—though he's only going to be more annoying now, holding this over my head."

"Why? It's not like you were on the team."

"Yes, but it's the principle of the thing."

Just then, A.J. broke away from his teammates and started towards us. Mary winked at me and said, "I'm going to go talk to Dorcas and Marlene—see you later, Lil."

I narrowed my eyes after her retreating form, but smiled as A.J. approached. "So, you escaped from Madame Pomfrey—I'm impressed."

"Yeah, escape is actually a rather appropriate word—she was checking on me every fifteen minutes or so, so I waited until she'd gone back into her office after one of the check-ups and, er, snuck out."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, she is going to hunt you down for that."

He shrugged. "I know. But it's worth it, I think. Can't miss an after party, after all."

"They are pretty legendary," I agreed.

"So, what's the drunkest you've ever gotten at one of these?"

"I, er, actually don't drink," I said.

A.J. raised his eyebrows. "Really? You realize that's basically the point of these things, right?"

"Yes, but I've found it's much more entertaining observing others follow that rule."

A.J. toasted me with his drink. "Fair enough." He took a sip. "Actually, there's probably quite a bit of truth to that." Downing the rest of his drink, he tossed the cup carelessly on the table behind us. "Okay, I'm game. No more drinking the rest of the night. So, how does this work?"

"Well, sometimes I try and predict who's going to end up snogging who. Like . . . oh, see that fourth year over there?" I pointed to a girl who was surrounded by five fifth year boys. She was laughing excessively at everything they said and rocking slightly back and forth as though she wasn't quite in tune with her center of gravity. "She's definitely going to hook up with one of those fifth years."

"The guy right in front of her," A.J. said assuredly.

"You think so? I was going to say the guy on her right."

"Nah, my guy's way more into her than yours."

"Yeah, but sometimes it's better to play it cool—if he comes off too desperate, she'll just lose interest."

A.J. raised his eyebrows, and I grinned at him.

"Trust me, I've had a lot of practice with this."

"With what—this game, or hooking up with slightly intoxicated strangers?" he inquired, smirking.

I elbowed him lightly. "This game, obviously."

A.J. laughed. "Sure, sure, whatever you say, Lily." We watched the girl and her potential snogging partners for a while, and then A.J. spoke again. "You going to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

"I don't know—I've told Mary she could spend it with Andrew, and I usually don't go if I'm not going with her, just because it's kind of boring, but—"

"You could go with James," A.J. suggested. "You know, have some friend bonding time, maybe practice calling each other by your first names."

I glared at him. "Funny."

"Or you could go with me," he said.

I blinked at him for a moment—I hadn't been expecting that. "Okay," I heard myself say eventually. Too late, I remembered James's and my bet. Shit, I thought, he's never going to let me live this down. Well, hopefully it's worth it. Glancing at A.J. who had turned back to observing the crowd with a somewhat idiotic grin on his face, I couldn't help but smile myself. I have a feeling it will be.

Just then, the fourth year we'd been watching took the hand of the guy I'd been rooting for and led him tipsily from the common room. I turned triumphantly to A.J. "Told you."

A/N: I forgot to mention this at the beginning, but some people are wondering why James seems to be encouraging the A.J. development . . . well, there's this little thing I like to call 'denial.' Anyway, all will become clear. Eventually.