Author Note

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Chapter 15: Gryffindor Vs. Ravenclaw

I'd be crazy not to go to the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match. Everyone goes to the first Quidditch match of the season. Even I usually go to this one, and it's made all the more intense because we'd barely defeated Ravenclaw last year for the Quidditch Cup. That makes this game like... the biggest rivalry in the castle. Besides the one between James – I mean, Potter – and Severus. Or maybe Potter and me.

Plus, I've got to support Marlene. Obviously. My unusual interest in this Quidditch game has little to do with James – Potter – who is barely my friend. Really more of a friendly acquaintance. It's only the polite thing to do, supporting your friendly acquaintance who is also a surprisingly brill Transfiguration tutor. It certainly has nothing to do with how well one might suddenly wonder this friendly acquaintance looks riding a broom. Really, I'm going mostly for Marlene. And tradition. And Gryffindor. Got to show that Gryffindor pride!

Never mind the promise I made to Potter last night. (I will call him by his surname. I will not mess up again.)

So bright and early, I wake with all the other girls in the dormitory. Every last one of us is up, tracking down scarves and hats, even Carol and Mary. I feel almost kindly toward them as we dress in our crimson and gold Gryffindor gear and make predictions about how the match will go. Emmeline deliberates over her gloves, but Marlene decides for her, yanking them out of her hands and tossing them onto Emmeline's bed. "It's the first of October, Em, not December!"

Marlene flits around the dormitory, curls bouncing, barely able to sit still. I have no clue when she got up this morning, just that she was already dressed and digging through her trunk looking for her lucky lion-shaped earrings she only wears for Quidditch matches by the time I stumbled out of bed to the loo. She always gets like this on match days, energy pulsing through her, too much to contain inside.

Downstairs, in the Great Hall, the mood is similar, with everyone talking loudly and mingling between tables, munching on buttery slices of toast or giant pumpkin bran muffins. It feels almost festive, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws decked out in their House colors. Some of the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs have even chosen to show their support for their team of choice today by temporarily magicking their own House gear red or blue.

Marlene leads the way along the Gryffindor table until she finds other members of the Gryffindor team; her fellow Chasers Potter and Enola are clumped together with Keeper Stacy Abbott and little Corbyn Fox who won the Seeker spot. We slide in across the table from them.

Potter grins broadly when he sees me in my Gryffindor scarf. "I was certain you were going to bail on me – well, us – this morning."

"I thought about it," I say, just to be contrite, though in reality, I'm feeling quite keyed up. I'm sure it's just everyone else's excitement getting to me, the moody way the sun streaks down between the iron gray clouds in the enchanted ceiling overhead, Potter's arms, solid and lean and strong under his red and gold sweater...

Oh Merlin, Lily. Pull yourself together. What is withyou?

"Oh, don't be such a downer, Lil," Marlene says. "You were just as excited as everyone else this morning, planning exactly what time you should leave breakfast to get a decent spot on the pitch."

Everyone laughs, I give a 'you got me' sort of shrug, and Potter smiles and leans forward. "I'm glad you're coming," he says. It's not exactly said in undertone, but it's quiet enough that I know he meant it just for me. But before I can process that, James stands and calls to his team, including his two Beaters Yarrington and Wood further down the table, telling them it's time to go.

I'm about to wish James good luck but bloody Carol comes swooping in from out of nowhere and stands on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. "Good luck today, James!" she says. "I know you'll be brilliant."

Potter blinks down at her, confused. "Um... thanks Carol." She beams at him, and I drop my eyes back to my breakfast, my face feeling flushed for some reason. Everyone applauds as the team stands, and when I do finally look up, Potter – and the rest of the team – have left.

/

The stands are packed, standing room only. Everyone in the school must have turned out to watch. I doubt we'd be sitting even if we could; there's far too much energy for anyone to settle down.

"I'm glad we left the Great Hall when we did," Alice says. "I like getting a front row."

Between the excitement and energy about the match, the tension between Alice and I has finally blown over. We've been talking and laughing together this morning in a way we haven't since the raincloud incident. It's a relief to have Alice back; missing both her and Severus has made me feel a bit lonely.

That must be why I'm thinking of Potter with such affection this week.

"Me too," Frank says from Alice's other side before I can. He caught up with us on our way to the pitch, and Alice, grinning widely, invited him to sit with us. Or rather, sit with her. While Frank had been distracted talking to Remus and Pettigrew on the bench behind us, I'd given Alice the whole nudge-nudge-wink-wink routine, nodding at Frank's turned back. "Shh," she said, but her smile was bright and mischievous. I grinned. Frank's a good bloke.

"Here they come!" Pettigrew shouts, pointing. Sure enough, down on the pitch, the two teams emerge from their changing rooms, striding towards the center of the field to meet each other and Madame Hooch, the crate with the Quidditch balls at her feet.

When the student body sees them, everyone breaks into cheers and applause. The players look up at the crowd surrounding them. Fox, the youngest and smallest from either team, smiles nervously and quickly drops his gaze. Marlene waves both hands, grinning up at everyone like she's a celebrity. Potter, walking at the head of the scarlet-clad Gryffindor team, barely breaks his forward gaze, sparing just a brief nod in our direction and focusing back forward almost immediately. It's clear his head is already in the match.

Potter and the Ravenclaw captain shake hands, and both teams mount their brooms. Madame Hooch opens the crate, the Bludgers and Golden Snitch take off, she tosses the Quaffle in the air, and, with a blast of her whistle, the match begins.

"And they're off, the much anticipated first match of the season underway. Potter with the Quaffle, no surprise there, Gryffindor is the favorite to win the match today after defeating every other House last year..." Sirius Black's voice drawls loudly over the boos from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin, magically amplified. "He passes to McKinnon, who passes to Robins, and back to Potter, very neat getting through the Ravenclaw Chasers, you three. And he approaches the goalposts - good dodge from that Bludger, Prongs, and... yes! We have the first goal of the game! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

We shriek and cheer, stomping and clapping in victory. Alice hugs me, hopping up and down with excitement.

Half an hour later, and quite frankly, I can't believe how much fun I'm having. The energy in the air has only revved up as the match plays out. Gryffindor is in the lead, but Ravenclaw holds their own only two goals behind us. Both sides have had some incredible saves by their Keepers, and once, the Ravenclaw seeker shot up over the stands suddenly, making everyone gasp and point, but it turned out to be a false alarm. We all cheer and clap and react as one.

And wow, but... James. I don't know how I've never noticed him before. I mean, I haven't been to that many matches, but he's so talented it would only take one match to see it. He scored four of our six goals, and the way he moves through the air can only be described as effortless. He and Marlene and Enola make an excellent trio; their handling of the Quaffle is tight, their passes quick and sure.

It almost makes the match exciting to watch.

Even still, though, after another hour, I feel like no one could blame me when my attention starts to stray. For a witch who cares less about Quidditch than McGonagall cares for nonsense, I feel I've done extraordinarily well supporting my athletic mates. Not to mention I'm starving. Aren't sporting events supposed to have food? At least we're not standing anymore; people just jump to their feet when something exciting happens.

Soo that's how I end up noticing them. Potter doesn't have the Quaffle, so my eyes are wandering. I glance down the stands back towards the castle, wondering how much it would offend Potter (and Marlene) if I ditched before the Snitch was caught, and see some other students appear to have had the same idea. A group of them are making their way away from the Quidditch pitch. Lucky, I think. But wait… they're not heading back to the castle, not going to sneak an early lunch or get a head start on their lengthy Runes translation. There's five of them heading away from the castle, away from the match… towards the Forbidden Forest. And one of them has long black hair I recognize.

I stand abruptly.

"Oi! Evans! Can't see!" Pettigrew complains, but I ignore him.

"What's up, Lil?" Alice asks. I look at her, cozied up with Frank, and at Emmeline, looking relaxed for once and chatting with Remus, and I know I can't ask either of them along. And, I think with a pang, neither of them would want to help, either.

"Need the loo," I say.

They wave me off. "Not too long though or you'll miss the Snitch getting caught!" Alice says.

"I'll be quick," I promise, and I run down the steps. Once I'm on the ground, though, I do not head for the toilets. Instead, I sprint off in the direction I'd seen the Slytherins heading – because that's who it had to have been that I saw. A small group of students, sneaking off to the Forest while the rest of the school is occupied? This has suspicion sprinkled all over it and I'm going to figure it out this time.

Severus and his buddies are out of sight as I approach the Forest, and after trying and failing to eavesdrop on them last week, I'm not counting on being able to hear them either. But I still I go as quickly and quietly as I can towards where I last saw them, hoping I'll be able to just… figure it out.

And surprisingly, I do. At least, I think I do. When I get to the section of trees where I lost sight of them (coincidentally very near the spot Em and I had seen them before) I'm surprised to find a small trail of sorts. It's not any sort of footpath, not the kind of thing you'd notice if you weren't looking for it, but it's definitely there, and it cuts away into the Forest, veering away from the castle.

I glance back toward the pitch. Despite my waning interest in the match, part of me – probably the smarter, more logical part of me that got picked for Head Girl in the first place – tells me to turn myself around and get my butt back in my seat between Alice and Emmeline. But the other part of me – the louder, more stubborn, and generally more stupid part of me – yells, "Do it! This is what Dumbledore asked you to do, right?"

And I can't argue with that, so I get out my wand (hey, I'm not entirely stupid) and, holding it at the ready in front of me, plunge into the trees.

I move as quickly as I can while still staying quiet, wand aloft. Mostly I'm worried that I'll round a corner and crash right into the Slytherins, but I also haven't forgotten that I'm tromping through the Forbidden Forest, home to all sorts of dangerous magical creatures. Slytherins or deadly monsters, I don't want my location broadcasted because I was too eager to bother being quiet.

But the trail is surprisingly short. I've barely been sneaking through the undergrowth for five minutes when I suddenly stumble out of the trees and onto a broad gravel path.

"Huh?" I exhale in confusion, looking left and right. I catch a glimpse of the Slytherins, traveling quickly and confidently now that they've gotten away from the castle. They round a bend and disappear from sight. I look the other way down the path. It looks like it curves back towards Hogwarts… and then I know where I am. This isn't a path, it's a road – the road the carriages take from Hogsmeade station to the castle.

I stare back down the road to where the Slytherins disappeared, more confused than ever. They're going to Hogsmeade? What, on some kind of non-school-sanctioned day trip? Sev, what are you getting yourself into? I stare after them some more, sorely tempted to keep following. But I've already taken an excursion into the Forbidden Forest today (definitely not allowed), and going into Hogsmeade (definitely definitely not allowed) would be stretching my natural desire to follow rules too far. Not to mention my common sense.

After a long moment, I turn and make my way back through the Forest and across the grounds to the pitch, my head spinning the whole way, trying to figure out what in the name of Merlin could be so important in Hogsmeade for Sev and his cronies to sneak off to, potentially more than once. Like what, they can't wait a few more weeks until the first school-approved Hogsmeade trip at the end of the month? It's all very strange.

"Where have you been?!" Alice exclaims when I slide back into my seat in the stands. She checks her watch. "You've been gone nearly a half hour!"

"Long line," I mutter. Alice frowns at me, her eyes narrowed. "What'd I miss?" I ask hastily.

"Not much," Emmeline mumbles, looking bored from her seat next to me. She has her Arithmancy textbook open on her lap, a move I thoroughly approve of.

"Not much!" Pettigrew shoves his head forward between us. "You missed this amazing save by Stacy, and the Ravenclaw Beaters TOTALLY went after James and he barely missed his face getting crushed by a Bludger. And then Fox and Shelley – you know, the Ravenclaw Seeker? – got into this really intense chase near the ground after the Snitch. Fox definitely had it, but then one of the Ravenclaw Chasers got in the way, the bloody -"

"Gryffindor is up by ten points, James made a really neat goal a few minutes ago to pull us back ahead, looped right around their Keeper and put it in the center hoop," Remus says, leaning forward to cut Pettigrew's long-winded rant off.

"Thanks," I say, and turn back to the match to find James in the air. He's looking more intense than ever, streaking down the pitch after the Ravenclaw Chasers tossing the Quaffle back and forth. He nearly manages to intercept it, but a well-aimed Bludger from Ravenclaw forces him to roll out of the way and Ravenclaw scores a goal, tying the score back up.

"Corbyn really needs to get the Snitch," Frank says anxiously, shaking his head and watching as Gryffindor gets possession of the Quaffle. "Ravenclaw's too good, they're going to win if we can't end this soon."

"Never! We are way too good to -" Pettigrew breaks off with a yelp. "Look!"

He points. Corbyn has dropped into a heart-poundingly steep dive, the Ravenclaw seeker trailing hopelessly far behind. We're all on our feet again, screaming as Corbyn heads for the ground. In all the commotion, James manages to put the Quaffle through the left hoop just as I think I catch a glimpse of gold fluttering near the ground. The next moment, Corbyn pulls out of his dive and doesa victory lap around the stands, waving the Golden Snitch for everyone to see.

"YES! Fox has caught the Snitch! Yes, yes, YES! Victory for Gryffindor!" Sirius Black shouts excitedly into the microphone, forgetting to drawl and be all casually cool for once in his life. "Gryffindor beats Ravenclaw, 230 to 70, what a match!"

A moment later, Potter crashes into Fox (still cruising the stadium with the Snitch), wrapping one arm around him, the other punching the air in celebration. The rest of the team swoops in, and they sink to the ground in a victorious huddle.

"Let's go!" Alice says, and we, along with Emmeline, Frank, Remus, Peter, and most the other Gryffindors, flood onto the pitch to greet our winning team. We fight our way to Marlene, who screams and throws her arms around the three of us, knocking our heads together.

"You were amazing, Marlene!" Emmeline says, rubbing her forehead but smiling all the same.

"Absolutely brilliant," I agree.

"I was real worried there for a moment," Marlene says, pushing her sweaty curls off her forehead, "but we came out alright in the end, yeah?"

"Yes," Alice says fervently. "You and James and Enola were such a great team. I've never seen such great passing!"

"Thanks!" Marlene says, but then she makes a face. "It's all James, really. I mean, he made six of our eight goals... I've got some work to do if I want to pull my weight on the team a bit more..."

"Speaking of, where is Potter?" I ask.

"Back that way," Marlene says, nodding away into the crowd.

"Be right back," I say, and squeeze through the Gryffindors all pressed together still exclaiming over the match. I can't wait to see James, tell him how brilliant he was, congratulate him on his first win of the season... of course, I'll have to be all casual about it so it doesn't go to his head. He's going to be so shocked (and pleased?) that I even stayed for the whole match. Well, most of it. I'll fill him in on that investigating stuff later. But for now, I really do just want to congratulate James, my friend, on his great game.

I squeeze through one more gap between a couple of towering six years talking with Wood and I see him. James. Potter. Except...

Except he's got his arm around Carol, and she's tucked up into him like she belongs there, smiling more sincerely than I think I've ever seen from her. And he's grinning at her too, talking fast and excited, his hair windswept and pushed back from his face, his glasses crooked.

I falter and stop. Then, before he can see me, I turn around and wiggle my way back through the crowd, avoiding where my mates are still rehashing the match. I break free and trudge slowly across the grounds to the castle, alone.

I feel like I've been walloped in the stomach. I want to say I don't know why, but I do. It's been a thought, a feeling, growing in the back of my mind, one I've been stubbornly ignoring. It's why I got so mad about the raincloud, why I missed him when we weren't talking. It's why he makes me laugh so much, why I really came to the match today. Why I'm finding it so hard to keep him as 'Potter". James is my friend. But he's also becoming more than that to me.

Agh! How has this happened? I push into the front door so hard the heavy wood hurts my shoulder. I rub the sore spot angrily while I walk. I did not go into this year wanting to mend bridges with James Potter, did not want to make friends with him or start to like him, for Merlin's sake. I just wanted to be a good Head Girl, and get through my classes, and graduate with good enough NEWT marks to get into whatever Auror program I please. I don't need to be tangled up in all these feelings about James, and what kind of person he is, and I definitely don't need to get stuck in some sort of bloody, melodramatic love triangle.

I bypass the Great Hall, ignoring the enticing aroma of beef stew wafting out with the chatter of students returning from the match. I'm not feeling all that hungry anymore. Instead, I start up the Grand Staircase, my footsteps heavy and slow as my thoughts spin in a turmoil in my head.

"Lily! Where were you? I've been looking for you!"

I pause, one foot on the top step, and make myself look back down the staircase. James is at the bottom, still in his Quidditch uniform, still all windswept and handsome and beaming with the thrill of winning.

"Peter and Remus said you stayed the whole match," he says, stepping up a stair.

"Oh, yes," I say. "It was a very good game." A pause. I'm talking to him over my shoulder. "Congratulations, by the way." I force the next words out, the compliment I'd intended to give him straightaway. "You were fantastic."

His smile broadens. "Thanks," he says.

There's a long pause where I don't say anything and my foot is still resting on that top step, the rest of me longing to run up all seven flights to my dorm in Gryffindor tower, and James's smile falters.

"Are you coming to lunch?" he asks, taking one more step up towards me.

"Oh... no, I don't think so." I'm trying to speak normally, but voice seems to be an octave too high. I clear my throat. "I have some homework I really need to get started on, so..." I gesture vaguely up the stairs.

"Oh," he says. Just that one word, small and disappointed, almost makes me want to go back down, join him for lunch, tell him all my favorite parts of the match today and the ways he impressed me, and, later, fill him in on my Forbidden Forest excursion, but... I can't. Instead, I make myself look at him, take in the small frown, his dark scrunched eyebrows and hazel eyes behind his glasses, his hand, tanned and long-fingered, resting on the banister, and I tell him, "But I'll see you at the prefects meeting tomorrow night, Potter."

And then I leave.

This is the way it has to be, I tell myself. I don't really know him. A few friendly weeks does not make a solid friendship. I'm not going to get mixed up with him, and his mischief, and his stupidly handsome face. It's my last year of school, and I've got to focus. With You-Know-Who rising, it's more important than ever for me to become an Auror. What's not important is my growing feelings for Potter. They're just going to get in the way.

We can be Heads, and a tutoring duo, and classmates, and that's it.

Just like I'd intended at the beginning of the year.

/

Dear Petunia,

I hope you got my last letter. I've been thinking about you a lot. How have you been? London life treating you alright? You always did like the reality of the city, and being around so many people. I hope you still like it, now that you live it.

Mum says you and Vernon are getting quite serious and that he even talked to Dad recently. Is there a marriage proposal in your future, Tuney? Wow!

[Only, do you worry that a marriage will hold you back? In your career goals, I mean. You've always had such a strong will. Don't lose that, even if you do get married. How do you know this kind of relationship will be the best thing for you?]

I'm so excited for you and can't wait for the official news!

I know you're busy, but if you find just a moment, I really would love to hear from you.

Love,

Lily