"The things I do for Gryffindor…" Sirius murmured drunkenly Sirius, sprawled across a long kitchen table. He was still traumatised, not as much as the whole Slytherin, though. That's probably the only thing that allowed him to keep his sanity, or at least what was left of it.

"The things you do at all…" Harry said beside him, making the other boys snort. After he officially agreed to join the Quidditch team, they took him to the kitchens to celebrate and ease Sirius' mental pain.

"Wha' would ya know?"

Harry gave him a sly smirk, "Quite a bit," he said and mentally slapped himself. The alcohol was already going into his head and disturbed critical thinking. "I'm observant," he added to the boy's questioning look.

"Wha'ver."

"Doesn't really matter right now!" James interjected, once again holding a glass of firewhisky in his hand, ready to toast. "To Harry!"

"To Harry!" the Marauders chorused, clinking their glasses together, "And Sirius!"

"Honestly," Remus muttered, shaking his head as he took a sip, "I don't know what's worse—that you actually did that striptease or that we're celebrating it like it was some great accomplishment."

"It was a great accomplishment," James argued, jabbing a finger in the air. "Generations of students will talk about that performance."

Sirius sat up dramatically. "Gentlemen, I gave my heart and soul to that. And my dignity."

"You didn't have any dignity to begin with," Remus deadpanned, earning a snort from Harry.

A small army of house elves scurried around them, setting down plates of food—mountains of pumpkin pasties, warm scones, and a massive tray of chocolate éclairs.

James turned to Harry. "Now, about Quidditch. I expect brilliance from you, Shunpike. Sheer, undeniable brilliance."

"I'll try my best," Harry said, sipping his butterbeer. "But don't blame me if I'm not as obsessed as you are."

James gasped dramatically. "Not obsessed? Not obsessed!" He turned to Sirius. "He just doesn't understand, does he?"

Sirius shook his head, looking grave. "A tragedy, really."

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't stop himself from smiling.

Later, James, who had already inhaled half the food on the table, threw an arm around Harry's shoulders. "I just want you to know, Harry, that your joining the team is the best decision you'll ever make. It's like—I dunno—discovering you have a long-lost twin, or—"

"Finding out you're secretly royalty," Sirius added.

"Or learning you can actually transfigure girls' skirts shorter without McGonagall noticing," Peter piped up, then immediately turned red when everyone looked at him. "Not that I—uh—just, you know—heard that was possible."

There was a moment of silence before James burst into laughter and clapped him on the back. "Peter, I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

Sirius, however, looked far too interested. "Wait, who taught you that? Because I have many questions."

Before Peter could dig his grave any deeper, Harry—who had been eyeing the giant bowl of whipped cream next to the treacle tart—grabbed a spoonful and smacked it right onto Sirius's face.

The entire table froze.

Sirius slowly wiped the cream from his cheek, licked some off his fingers, and narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Oh, you poor fool." He grabbed a handful of mashed potatoes and hurled it straight at Harry's head.

"Oi!" Harry ducked it, but some still splattered onto his sleeve. "All right, you wanna play dirty?" He snatched a pumpkin pasty and launched it across the table.

Within seconds, all hell broke loose.

James flung a spoonful of pudding at Sirius, who retaliated with a handful of grapes, which ricocheted off Remus's head.

"Why am I even here?" Remus groaned, shielding himself with a plate.

"Because you love us, Moony!" Sirius yelled before smacking him with a bread roll.

Peter attempted to throw a custard tart but ended up hitting himself in the face, while James tried to build a barricade out of leftover pastries.

"You'll regret this, Shunpike!" Sirius cackled, dodging another Harry's attack.

"Oh yeah?" Harry grabbed a handful of treacle tart and smeared it straight onto Sirius's hair.

"My beautiful hair!" Sirius howled dramatically, falling to his knees. "What have you done!"

James burst out laughing, "Sirius, mate, you look like a dessert."

Remus, finally accepting that there was no stopping this madness, picked up a spoon, flicked pudding at James, and smirked. "Accidents happen."

James gasped. "Moony, you traitor!"

The battle raged on until the kitchen was a complete disaster—flour on the floor, pumpkin juice dripping from the ceiling, and house elves hiding under the table in terror.

About an hour later, the boys decided it was time to move their drunken selves and Sirius, who literally had to be transferred to the Gryffindor Common Room. James and Peter navigated through the dark corridors while Remus and Harry carried Sirius by arms and legs, respectively.

The Gryffindor Common Room was faintly lit; the fire was crackling softly as the Marauders and Harry stumbled in, still slightly dishevelled and reeking of firewhisky and other kinds of alcohol. James had pudding and juice in his hair, Remus was picking crumbles of treacle tart off his robes, and Sirius, still unconscious, looked like a living and breathing dessert.

Remus and Harry threw Sirius on the couch, making him groan. Harry, feeling pleasantly warm from the celebration yet tired from carrying his yet-to-be godfather, stretched his arms and was about to collapse into the nearest armchair when—

"Oh. My. God."

A voice cut through the room like a whip, and every single one of them froze in place.

Lily Evans stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently, her green eyes practically glowing with anger and shooting venom. She looked between them with her lips pursed so tightly they could probably slice through parchment.

"Er—Evans," James said, flashing his best and probably least effective in this particular situation charming grin. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"Oh, don't even start, Potter." Lily's gaze focused on Harry, and he felt like he'd rather take another food fight with Sirius than face whatever this was. At this moment, she really looked like a mother rounding on her wayward children – a thing he could only experience by observing the Weasley siblings and their mother. For some strange reason, the idea of this happening to him – something unimaginable a few months ago – caused him to grin toothily.

"You," she pointed at him, voice sharp, "have some explaining to do."

Harry blinked. "What did I do?"

"Oh, what did you do?" Lily's voice rose word by word, "I've been looking for you for hours, and where do I find you? Covered in food in the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol, and giggling like an idiot with this lot!" She gestured wildly at the Marauders, who were doing a terrible job at looking innocent.

Sirius, choosing the worst moment to wake up, wiped some treacle tart off his sleeve. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Don't test me, Black."

Harry, still confused, to which pounding head didn't help, rubbed his temple. "Wait, why were you looking for me?"

Lily huffed, throwing her hands in the air. "I was in the library, waiting for you! We were supposed to go over potion ingredients, remember?"

Oh. Right.

That did sound oddly familiar.

"Er—" Harry started lamely.

"But no," Lily interrupted, "you were too busy sneaking around, getting drunk, and—dear God, is that whipped cream in your hair?"

Harry instinctively reached up, only to realise that, yes, there was indeed whipped cream in his hair. He grimaced. "Okay, in my defence—"

"There is no defence!" Lily snapped. "You've been avoiding me, haven't you?"

"What? No—"

"Oh, really? Ever since I started helping you with Potions, we have been friends. And suddenly, you're always off with them ever since you agreed to this sodding Quidditch." She gestured again at the Marauders. "I mean, are we even friends, or am I just your walking, talking textbook?"

Harry's mouth opened, but no words came out. Desperately trying to say something to save the moment, he grinned dumbly, and any words that came out of his mouth were so incoherent, one would think he was fluent in Gobbledygook.

Behind him, James and Sirius were biting their lips, barely containing their laughter.

Remus, the only one who had the decency to look abashed, cleared his throat. "Lily, I think-"

"Oh, shut up," She growled, not even looking at him.

Remus blinked. "Right. I'll just—be over there." He stepped back, wisely removing himself from the line of fire.

Lily turned back to Harry, her arms still crossed. "Well?"

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, making the whipped cream situation even worse. "Lily, I-I wasn't avoiding you in particular. I just got caught up in their chaos." He motioned to the Marauders, who all grinned like guilty schoolboys, which, to be fair, they were. "But I do appreciate the help you're giving me, a'right? You're not just a walking textbook, I swear."

Lily huffed, still not entirely convinced, but at least she wasn't ready to hex him anymore. "Fine. But next time, you tell me before running off and getting yourself thrown into detention for a month. It is the only time I won't report it."

Everyone was surprised when they saw Harry flying like a maniac. Not that they weren't expecting it, but seeing it in reality was a different thing. What surprised them even more was a small group of spectators at their practice, one spectator in particular. Lily Evans, who wasn't the biggest Quidditch enthusiast out there, bordering on even despising the game for its 'brutality', showed up at today's practice. No one had any doubts about for whom she had come.

Her affection towards the newest Gryffindor became quite well-known in Hogwarts. For little they knew him, Harry Shunpike was considered a good catch by everyone, including even some Slytherins. Thus, no one was really surprised by Lily's admiration. Not counting a few girls who were jealous of Lily's closeness to Harry, most of the students watched their interactions like some melodrama. A girl who fell for a mysterious boy who happened to look almost like a lost twin of her nemesis, and a boy who was all oblivious to the longing stares of his friend.

As for Harry, at least he was sure his flying skills weren't dependent on the broom. Comet 331 wasn't the most impressive one of them – definitely not like his beloved Firebolt. It took him only ten minutes to adjust to the new reality, though – poor acceleration, visibly slower and, the worst of all – terribly manoeuvrable, but his opinion was heavily biased.

After the practice, Harry spent excessive time in the changing room, sure that if he walked out of it, he would be jumped upon by an angry Lily, who would give him an earful and lecture him about safety in the air and responsible flying. He appreciated her worrying about him, but he had lived all his life without anyone bothering him, and after a bit, he found that overwhelming and annoying.

"Harry, do you have a moment?" James asked nonchalantly, though Harry heard a timid undertone in his words. It was rare to experience James not-so-confident, as he usually seemed to be. At least on the surface, that is.

"Sure," said Harry, glancing relieved at the exit. He probably had bought himself another five minutes of peace.

"What do you think about our tactic?"

"It's decent, I guess. I'm a seeker, though, not a tactician. I really don't have an idea."

"Right. Err-"

"Say whatever you have to say straight away. It'd be easier."

James sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "Are you and Lily, err, you know… together? As in couple… boyfriend and girlfriend…"

While James kept bubbling, Harry looked at him incredulously. Is he and his mother dating? How ridiculous! Of course, James didn't know that Lily was his mother and that somehow made things even more hilarious.

He couldn't help himself, really. He burst out laughing like a maniac, leaning on one hand on the wall so as not to fall, completely missing James' scowl at his sudden outburst.

"It's not funny, you know!"

"Sorry!" Harry gasped for air, now bent over with his hands on his knees, "Sorry. It's just that the idea of the two of us together is so totally absurd!"

"Oh-"

"… I mean, isn't the idea somewhat disgusting? Or is it just me?"

James' expression turned from confusion to outrage in a blink of an eye. "Disgusting!" he spat, "How dare you!"

"W-what?"

"Lily's the most beautiful girl, one that you don't deserve!"

"I-I didn't mean it like that! She's like a family!"

It seemed to silence James, but he still eyed Harry with suspicion. "So you don't like her?"

Harry gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Not in that way, no. She's more like a moth- a sister – a long lost one that I had never had an occasion to meet before."

"Oh," James' shoulders slumped a little, and he had the decency to look embarrassed, "Sorry for my outburst. It's just that-"

"I know." Harry smiled and put his hand on James' shoulder, "You don't need to explain yourself." Leaning closer, he whispered, "I'm cheering for you two, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think you two would be perfect."

James snorted, "You seem to be the only one to think that."

"Maybe for now," Harry said with the utmost conviction. After all, he couldn't count how many people told him that his parents were a flawless match. "People change, you know. And so do times. Something unbelievable just a month ago may happen tomorrow."

"That's… thanks, Harry."

"My pleasure."

James gathered his things and moved to the door, "You coming?" He asked, looking through his shoulder.

"Nah, I think I will take a shower one more time. Go ahead."

James looked at him strangely but didn't comment. But Harry's mind didn't linger on that. Instead, he walked to the showers and took what was probably a fifth shower this morning. All that to avoid the rage of one certain redhead.

It was strange to give his father dating advice, especially as he wasn't an expert himself. He snickered to himself when he thought that James really didn't know the true implications of what he had said.

He sighed when he couldn't delay much longer. Every quarter he waited was probably making the matter worse.

"Here goes nothing," he murmured and opened the door. Here, of course, waited Lily. Her cheeks were flushed, and he didn't fancy ruminating how much it was from cold instead of anger.

"I can't believe you…"

Her rant continued through the noon. And he had thought Hermione's tirades went overboard. Really, how could the girl talk so much without taking a breath? Even Ginny, who was the ultimate chatterbox when she found something exciting – which wasn't even rare as she seemed to be excited over the most minor, irrelevant things Harry would never notice – had to pause for a second to avoid strangling herself.

And then, suddenly, her behaviour changed completely. It started at dinner when Harry was sitting with the Marauders. He was buttering his toast when Lily sat directly across from him instead of with her other friends, as she did when he was choosing the company of the 'blasted four fools' as she liked to call them.

She gave him a dazzling smile, then very deliberately ran her fingers through her red hair, flipping it over her shoulder, making him stare with raised eyebrows.

Sirius nudged him. "Oi, mate, she's hair flipping at you. That's, like, step one in the art of seduction."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I think she just—"

Before he could finish, Lily flipped her hair again, knocking over the entire jug of pumpkin juice. She gasped, eyes wide as orange liquid spread across the table. "Oh, God! I—I didn't mean—" With burning cheeks, she grabbed her wand and quickly cleaned up the mess. Then she turned back to Harry, pretending like nothing happened. "So," she said, forcing a smile. "What were we talking about?"

Harry, for the whole time, kept his eyebrows raised. "I… don't think we were?"

Lily's smile twitched. "Right! Yes. Of course."

Sirius leaned over to James and whispered, "This is painful to watch."

James nodded solemnly. The scowl wasn't leaving his face.

Later that day, in the Common Room, Harry was sitting on the couch, flipping through his Transfiguration textbook, when Lily plopped down right next to him, more precisely -practically on top of him.

"Hey, Harry!" she said, smiling brightly. "What are you working on?"

"Transfiguration."

"Oh, wow," she said, leaning far too close to see his book. "You're so good at Transfiguration. It must be nice to be so talented."

Harry blinked. "Uh. Thanks?"

She laughed—too loudly—and placed a hand on his arm.

Sirius, watching from across the room, immediately started mimicking her. He dramatically grabbed James's arm - who was watching the whole thing, with a glare - and sighed, "Oh, Jamsie, you're so good at Quidditch. It must be so nice to be so talented."

James fluttered his eyelashes, catching on and choosing goofing around over resentment. "Oh, Siri, you're just saying that because you like me."

Sirius gasped. "That's right! How about we find some deserted broom closet?"

Remus just sat there, observing how the two friends were leaving the Common Room, one practically hanging on the other. He looked like he regretted every life choice that had led him to befriend those two.

Lily glared at them before turning back to Harry, still clinging to his arm. Harry, meanwhile, wasn't sure if he should say something or just let her keep going. Before he could decide, she somehow managed to trip over herself while changing her sitting position and ended up colliding with him forcefully enough to knock his book from his hands.

She froze, her face turning pink.

Harry sighed, picking up his book. "You all right?"

"Perfectly fine!" she said quickly, flipping her hair. Harry spluttered a few strands out that fell into his mouth.

The next day, James practically dragged Harry down to the Quidditch pitch for practice. It was their last chance for training before the match this afternoon. And who was suddenly there, standing by the stands, pretending to look completely casual?

Lily, of course. Harry's new personal stalker.

Harry squinted his eyes. "She hates Quidditch. And it's the second time in a row she's here."

Sirius smirked and clapped him on the back. "She does now. But desperate times call for desperate measures."

As practice started, whenever Harry flew past the stands, he was almost sure Lily waved at him. At one point, she even shouted, 'Go, Harry!'

Sirius leaned over to James. "She has no idea what's happening, does she?"

"Not a clue," James said grimly, watching as Lily clapped at literally nothing.

At the end of practice, she was waiting outside the changing rooms.

"Harry!" she said, beaming. "You were amazing!"

Harry stared at her. "I was just flying drills?"

Lily's smile faltered for a second. "Right! But—you looked so fast doing them!"

James, who was watching all of this with disgust, suddenly gasped. "Wait, hang on."

Everyone turned to him.

He flipped his hair back dramatically. "You know, Evans," he drawled, leaning against the door frame with all the grace of a particularly smug peacock. Or a deer would be a better comparison in his case, "If you're looking for a Quidditch player to admire, you could always start with me."

Lily blinked at him. Then blinked again. "Excuse me?"

Sirius groaned, already seeing where this was going. "Oh, no." He muttered to Harry.

James ignored him, straightening up and stretching, as if to casually show off the build of someone who had spent years flying on a broomstick. "I mean, I am the best Chaser in Gryffindor—"

Lily's eye twitched.

"—undoubtedly the most handsome player on the pitch—"

Sirius snorted so loudly it sounded painful.

"—with a jawline carved by Merlin himself—"

Harry cringed as if he was hit in the stomach. Lily, however, had gone completely still. Dangerously still.

But James, completely oblivious, kept going. "—and let's be honest, Evans, you'd look fantastic in a matching Quidditch jersey next to me—"

Her fists clenched.

"—we'd be the ultimate power couple—"

Sirius whispered, "Oh, yeah, he's dead."

"I could even give you personal tutoring—I can already see it! Lily and James, Quidditch's Finest! Gryffindor's golden pair! The next best thing after bludger-resistant gloves—"

SMACK!

The sound echoed across the pitch.

James staggered, clutching his cheek. "What the hell!"

Lily, absolutely fuming, jabbed a finger at him. "Potter, I would rather eat a bludger than date you!" She said, turning on her heel and storming off, still grumbling under her breath.

Harry bit his lip to stop cringing while Sirius collapsed onto the grass in fits of laughter. James, still holding his cheek, turned to Remus in utter betrayal. "Did she just—did she actually slap me?"

Looking like he was fighting the urge to say, 'I told you so', Remus sighed. "Yes. And honestly, James, I think you deserved that one." He finally seemed to take pity on his friend, when he patted James' shoulder. "Maybe it'd be best for you to go for a walk, to calm down a little before you hex everyone around."

James groaned, rubbing his face. "Fine. Fine. I'll take a bloody walk." James stomped off, muttering something about violent redheads. From a distance, he shouted, "You know, Evans, when you finally fall for me, I'll still accept your apology!"

A loud crashing noise told them Lily had just kicked over a Quidditch crate in response.

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. "Well, that was… something."

It was sure now.

His existence was doomed.

When Ginny finally regained consciousness, it was already noon. She ran a hand through her hair, only to find it tangled with leaves and twigs. She had to look like a bushman!

She touched her pounding face and immediately cringed in pain. It felt swollen and overly sensitive under her fingers. It didn't feel as bad last night – or at least she hoped it was last night. First, she had to find some help wherever she was.

Right, wherever she was. The problem was that she didn't have an idea where she was. It looked very similar to where she bit the living daylights out of that fairy bitch - she wasn't ever going to admit that she was the one who took the beating - so it has to be somewhere in the Forbidden Forrest.

She hoped that the fairy took her to where Harry was. She would better, for her own good.

She had no time to lose. She got up and started to search for the way to the castle. It took her about half an hour to find a small path. After another half, she saw a human.

The boy was walking back and forth, murmuring and cursing. Ginny's heart skipped when she noticed the boy looked just like Harry. Without much thinking, she ran straight to him, ignoring the pain that was getting worse with every step.

The boy, hearing something behind his back, turned around just as Ginny crushed against his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. She had finally found Harry!

Only it wasn't Harry.

No, Harry didn't hug like that. That couldn't even be considered a hug, for that matter. She jumped back, and her palm went straight to the boy's cheek with a loud 'PLASK'.

"Ouch! Are you mental? First, you hug me, then you slap me!"

Ginny's hands went to her hips, unconsciously impersonating her mother. "Who are you?"

"What?"

"Who are you?" Ginny repeated, drawing out her wand.

"Whoa! There is no need for that! I'm James Potter, obviously."

She looked at him funnily. "Yeah, sure. And I'm Minerva McGonagall."

"Well," James said, checking her out non-subtlely, "you're way too pretty to be McGonaga- Ouch!" He didn't see coming to a second slap on his other cheek.

"Check me out one more time, you disgusting pervert, and you won't have eyes!"

"Merlin, why is every girl in this school slapping me?"

"Maybe because you're an annoying git! Quit being so cheeky, little bastard, and maybe someday someone will like you. Goodbye." She huffed, raising her beaten face proudly and continued her way ahead the path, not sparing him a second glance.

When she strolled through Hogwarts halls, everyone stared at her as if they saw Yeti instead of her. She couldn't recognise anyone.

She rushed into Dumbledore's office, shouting different names of sweets and ignoring indignant cries of portraits.

"Ah, Miss Weasley, I assume?"

Ginny stopped in the middle of the step, staring at the Headmaster. "Y-yes?" Ginny said, startled. He assumed? As if he didn't remember her, which was hard, given how often she was bothering him lately, with fairies and finding Harry…

Dumbledore smiled the smile she hated. As if he knew everything and chose to keep her in the dark. "Do you know when you are?"

"Uh, yes, at Hogwarts—wait, did you say 'when'?"

"Indeed I did, my child," Dumbledore chuckled. "You found yourself in 1975, where we had the pleasure of welcoming Mr Potter as well. I assume you are because of him?"

Ginny slumped on the chair and closed her eyes in relief. Harry was here. He was safe. He was alive.

Dumbledore chuckled once more at her reaction. "I take it as a yes. If you don't mind me asking, what has happened to you, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny looked up at him in confusion. In the whole elation of finding Harry, she had forgotten the pain on her face. As if knowing exactly what she was thinking, Dumbledore flicked his wand, and one of the trinkets on his desk turned into a small mirror.

She exhaled sharply through her nose and immediately regretted it as the stinging pain caused the tears to gather in her eyes. She gripped the mirror tighter to steady herself. She was thankful she was already sitting because she was sure her legs wouldn't support her right now. She stared blankly at the reflection.

What stared back at her was a wreck.

Her face was a battlefield. A gash ran from her temple to her cheekbone, raw and angry, still oozing trails of blood that had crusted at the edges. Bruises gathered across her skin in sickly shades of purple, blue, and yellow, swelling her cheek so much that she barely recognised her features. Her other cheek was especially bruised and painful – a place the fairy hit her first – and she was sure the cheekbone was broken. Her lip was split, and the lower one was swollen. Her right eye was the worst—puffed up, already darkening to a deep, ugly violet. A long, jagged scratch ran dangerously close to it as if the fairy's claws had nearly blinded her.

She lifted a shaking hand to her hair. It was a tangled disaster, matted with dirt, leaves, and streaks of dried blood that so perfectly blended with her natural colour. A deep ache throbbed at the base of her skull where the fairy had yanked her backwards, slamming her into a tree.

Part of her wanted to cry when she saw herself like this. But then, slowly – and painfully - her swollen lips curled into a grin.

Brutalised, battered, barely standing—but she had won. Her brothers be damned.

Dumbledore's hand on her shoulder made her come back to reality. "Judging by your expression, you did something remarkably worth of pride." He smiled at her genuinely.

Ginny grinned back at him, raising her head high, "I beat up the fairy."

Dumbledore's smile faltered, and he hid his head in his hands, slowly rubbing his eyes. "A Weasley indeed." He murmured. "Do you have siblings by any chance?"

"Why, six older brothers."

"I see," Dumbledore said calmly, scratching something down in his notes, "I suggest you should visit the infirmary."

"B-but what about Harry!"

"That can wait. Your health not. I insist."

After James returned to the Common Room, he was unusually silent, which worried his friends.

"What's going on with you, James? Stop being so quiet!"

"Honestly, you spent the whole day in your thoughts!"

"Remus, Sirius," he said seriously while they leaned closer. The look on his face was like a love-sick puppy, "I think I'm in love."

"Oh god, not again! Stop drooling about Lily; it's not healthy for you!"

"What? I am not talking about Evans."

"Then who? You spent half a year drooling after her, and now you're in love with someone else?"

"The new girl! The one who slapped me!"

"I thought Evans slapped you."

"Yes, she did. But then, when I was walking, there was another one! Another redhead!"

Sirius snickered, "You're a magnet to violent girls. Redheads of all."

James hit him on the shoulder. "That's a Serious matter, Sirius."

"Okay, sorry," Sirius raised his hands in surrender, though he kept grinning, "It's for the better, I guess. Still don't know what you saw in Evans in the first place."

"So what about this mysterious girl?" Remus asked, curious and still doubtful how his friend could change his favours in just a few hours.

"Well, she came running out of the forest. She looked like a mess, to be honest. But there was something to her, something like, I don't know, fire? She startled me, hugged and then slapped me!"

Remus raised his eyebrows, "And you fall in love with her?" He asked incredulously.

James looked back at him with the utmost conviction, "Yes."

The entire pitch was buzzing with excitement, making the tensions high. For Harry, though, this match was a chance to prove himself in a time and place where no one knew who he really was. Where he was just Harry, not the famous boy who lived.

The moment Madam Hooch blew her whistle, the players shot into the air like fireworks, and chaos began. The match was brutal from the start. The Slytherin Beaters were keen on taking out every Gryffindor in sight, sending Bludgers flying at high speeds. James, playing Chaser, dodged one just in time to pass the Quaffle to Marlene McKinnon, who shot forward.

"And McKinnon scores!" the commentator, a fourth-year, bellowed. "Gryffindor leads, fifty to thirty!"

High above the chaos, Harry narrowed his eyes, scanning for the Snitch. Across from him, the Slytherin Seeker, Regulus Black, hovered calmly, his eyes flicking around the field. It was still a shock to discover that Sirius had a brother, barely five minutes before the match, nonetheless.

For a moment, their gazes locked. Regulus gave him a smirk, then shot downward, faking a dive. Harry didn't fall for it. Instead, he looped around, waiting and watching.

Down below, James barely avoided a bludger aimed straight for his head. "Oi, Black!" James shouted at Sirius, who was blocking a Slytherin Chaser. "How about actually doing your job and stopping those?"

Sirius grinned, bouncing away a second bludger. "I would if you weren't such a bloody target!"

"That's because I'm better than them!"

"Debatable," Marlene called from across the pitch, stealing the quaffle.

The stands roared again as she once again scored on the Slytherin Keeper.

"What's happening with you, Potter? I have to do everything myself!"

"He's got a girl on his mind!" Sirius shouted joyously.

The game below Harry continued, just as he continued circling with Regulus. The boy wasn't letting Harry out of his eyes for even a second.

Then, Harry saw it. A glint of gold hovering just beneath the Gryffindor goalposts. Judging by Regulus' reaction, he saw it too.

They shot forward at the same time. The crowd screamed as both Seekers dived shoulder to shoulder. Regulus was faster, of course, on his better broom, but Harry had years of experience.

A bludger came hurtling toward him. He yanked his broom sideways at the last second, making a sharp turn practically in place. The wind ruffled his hair when the bludger flew mare centimetres past his head. Regulus, distracted by Harry's stunt, didn't notice the incoming ball. It knocked the front of his broom, sending him straight on the goalpost stand.

With a final burst of speed, he grabbed the Snitch out of the air, nearly flipping over his broom in the process.

The stadium exploded in cheers.

"And Harry Shunpike catches the snitch! Gryffindor wins 210 to 70!"

Harry barely had time to react before James tackled him midair, nearly knocking them both off their brooms. "You legend!" He bellowed, shaking him wildly.

Below them, the Gryffindor team was screaming in celebration. When they landed, the crowd swarmed them, lifting Harry onto their shoulders.

Sirius leaned in, smirking. "Maybe now Evans will give you a kiss!"

"Oi, forget her!" James shouted, dropping his arm around his shoulders. "We have a victory to celebrate!"

They partied without concern. After all, the win against their biggest rivals was a good enough reason to celebrate. James sat on the windowsill with other marauders, drinking butterbeer, firewhisky, and other liquors, discussing the match and laughing at Harry, who got stolen by his fangirls.

"You were amazing, Harry!" A third-year girl gushed, clutching his arm.

"Absolutely legendary!" Another added, gripping his other arm.

"I knew you were going to catch the Snitch!"

"Oh! Can I sit next to you?"

A mob of Gryffindor girls were practically fighting to get a spot next to him, batting their eyes and giggling like mad.

Harry, trapped, threw a desperate look at his friends.

Sirius, instead of helping, was grinning like a proud parent. "Ah, our boy is growing up so fast." He said and, without any other word, left him the mercy of his fangirls.

Lily, on the other hand, sat near the fireplace, watching the horde of girls surrounding Harry with a glare and crossed arms. Few dared to come close to her, afraid she would spit venom.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, gripping her butterbeer mug even tighter.

Marlene McKinnon, her friend, raised a brow. "You do know you're glaring, right?"

"I—I wasn't glaring! I was just… observing."

"Right. Observing. Like a jealous girlfriend."

Lily choked on her drink and huffed. "I am not jealous!"

Marlene snorted. "Sure. And Snapies' secretly a Hufflepuff."

It had bothered her for weeks—this thing she felt whenever Harry was around. The way she wanted to be closer to him, the way she enjoyed their study sessions, the way her heart jumped when he smiled at her.

And now she had to watch him get dragged away by a bunch of simpering fan girls?

It was a torture. It was driving her insane. The anxiety of him reciprocating one of their feelings…

It was killing her.

She needed to do something.

She took a deep, steadying breath and stood up. "I'm going over there." She said with fake confidence.

"Finally!" Marlene grinned.

James, of course, noticed that Harry was stolen by a crowd of fangirls, to Evans' displeasure. But much to his surprise, he wasn't as angry as he should be. Did he finally get over her? Maybe not completely, but if his fascination with the girl he met hours ago was any indication, getting over Lily Evans's process started, and he was doing rather well.

It was a wonder how he scored any points today while his mind was so occupied with this fiery-haired girl. His hand unconsciously went to the cheek, where he got slapped, wishfully thinking that maybe one day he could meet this girl one more time.

Of course, his friends started to make fun of him again. He excused himself to wander through the Common Room, alone with his thoughts.

With the corner of his eye, he saw Evans start to lift herself from her seat with a pretty determined expression. At first, she only stood there, staring at the centre of attention of all the Gryphons, but after a while, she moved, gaining more confidence with every step.

The portrait to the Common Room opened then, making everyone freeze in place. Professor McGonagall entered, glaring at every participant. She opened her mouth, probably to shout and reprimand, but before she could say anything, James noticed a flash of red hair behind her.

It was her! The girl from before!

She scanned the Common Room with her eyes, searching for something.

Then her eyes fell on him, and their gazes met; she smiled brilliantly, beamed most beautifully James had ever seen, baring her perfect and cute teeth. Her eyes shone with absolute love and unshed tears.

There was no doubt she had fallen for him too!

She started running with a hard, blazing look on her face, and James got ready for their final reunion. He raised his arms, prepared for the embrace and started closing his eyes.

Imagine his absolute surprise when the redheaded missile flew past him towards the centre.

Towards Harry.

He looked around, and just as she threw her hands around him, without worrying about people watching them, she kissed him.

James was sure he looked like he might throw something. Looking around, he saw Lily holding a shattered glass in her hand.

After several long moments, they broke apart, and the room erupted in wolf-whistles and nervous giggling, absolutely ignoring McGonagall's outrage.