Disclaimer: I do not own any of the content from the Harry Potter Universe.

James sat in one of the many cramped rooms of Shell Cottage, contemplating just how he gotten shoved in a room with all of his male cousins. The pre wedding shenanigans meant that he had to endure the intellectual babbling of Hugo while Fred repeatedly sang every single word to 'Smells like Teen's Spirit' by a muggle band James did not care to know the name of at full blast, all the time. Meanwhile Louis would sprawl across James's bunk; half way torn between nerves regarding his duties as a groomsman and smugly styling his mop of blond hair as Albus screamed over the top of Fred in an attempt to converse with Scorpius with a two-way mirror. In short, it was driving James insane. The only male exempt from this torture was Teddy, who was staying with his grandparents until the wedding affairs were over. The party tonight was a pre wedding celebration, with only the family and some friends invited, though James swore Victoire and Teddy had invited at least one hundred people.

"I'm telling you Jamey, I've never seen that boy so nervous," Ron had laughed earlier in the night, slightly buzzed on the firewhiskey in his inconspicuous looking flask. James had smirked. Considering the state that Aunt Hermione got into over weddings, James was not surprised his uncle had come prepared.

"Honestly Ron, did you really think that tie was going to match my dress? Now we're all going to have to change!"

"Anyway," Ron continued, burping a little. "His hair was changing not stop! I counted fifty colours in a minute, although there were at least six shades of purple."

James had shaken his head at poor Teddy's plight, before excusing himself to mingle with people both younger and more sober. Elven wine was poured into everyone's chalice that night but James didn't dare touch them. He knew his mother would find out somehow; Ginny had a knack for knowing when one of her children was getting up to no good.

"James!" Lily ran past several guests before halting in front of her brother, beaming slightly. It was her first year at Hogwarts and she had already grown three inches taller, much to James's chagrin.

"Hey there Lil," he grinned, ruffling her striking auburn hair that Aunt Fleur had braided intricately. She stomped on his foot. James yelped. Mood swings were also a new development James had discovered Lily was capable of and Merlin, did he hate them. Still pouting, she spoke so quickly that James missed the words she was saying.

"Wait, what?"

"She's saying that a certain lady loover of yours happens to be her tonight," Fred said loudly, appearing behind James's shoulders. "Ain't that right, Lilster?"

Lily grinned slyly, before disappearing into the crowd of well-dressed guests, later seen innocently carrying a dish of sugar pastries around.

"Fred!" James glared at his best friend, who had not been as cautious and had drunk four generous glasses of wine. Somewhere in between those drinks he had also lost one of his cufflinks and flipped up the collar of his dress shirt. His parents, particularly Angelina, would not be pleased when the festivities were over.

"What?" Fred said, stretching out the word as he stumbled around. "You love her, you want to kiss her, you want to make lov-"

"Fred!"

Fred sobered slightly before grinning. "I get it. It was just one time, rightttt?"

James cursed, dragging Fred away from the ears of nosy guests, Hogwarts alumni who, in the right mood might tell their equally nosy siblings.

"Would you stop spouting nonsense?" James snapped, shaking Fred slightly. "It was only once and nothing else ever happened!"

"What's this?" James looked up to see Dominique, who had changed significantly since her days at Hogwarts. Although she and James still kept in touch, Dominique was constantly away from home ever since she had confessed to having loved Teddy for years. James still remembered the vicious fight Victoire and Dominique had gotten into, until Dominique grew weary of it and left. She discovered travel and things changed. The last letter she had written him was from Indonesia, where she had apparently found peace in a Buddhist monastery. James found it hard to believe, but he was happy for this newly tan, short haired, loose dress wearing and incredibly freckled version of Dominique Weasley.

"Long story Dom- yay for Vic and Teddy. Bye now!" James said hurriedly, starting for the nearest exit until Dominique yanked the back of his shirt.

"Hold up Jamesy. I have tried to keep all of my chakras balanced during Victoire's bridezilla moments and wedding guest drama but the fact that you are now withholding gossip from me is a testament to their clear misalignment." Dominique grinned at James as wickedly as a yogi could while he struggled in her grasp.

"The stars and the eclipsing moon will show that you are destined to be togetherrrr," Fred sang, earning a side eye from Dominique, who promptly yanked his cup away.

"Okay, a) who let him drink and b), I'm pretty sure I wrote something like in my Divination papers." James laughed until Dom lead them into one of the unoccupied rooms, slamming the door shut in a very un-Zen manner. "Spill," she said solemnly.

"Yeah!" Fred shouted, somewhat unnecessarily as James had begun his tale.

"Chug, chug, chug!" The other Gryffindors repeated the chant over and over again as James stood upside down on a table, chugging a line of firewhiskey shots.

"Yeah!" He'd shouted in victory, feeling a rush of excitement run through his veins as he leapt off the table into the adoring crowd. They had just won a crucial Quidditch match against Slytherin and there was no one more proud about it than James.

"Well done mate!" Fred had laughed, clapping him on the back while Flynn handed him another drink. With Moira out of the picture, they had become close- unsurprising to their fathers who still owled each other about Quidditch to date. James returned the gesture before wading through the crowd to the poker table he and Fred had smuggled in (with the help of Uncle George of course). James felt the electricity of all the sweaty bodies and the heat that had somehow been generated between all the dancing and cheering. It was so prominent that when the air changed, his breath hitched briefly. Or maybe it was just the sight of her. It was Moira Thomas, sitting on the pool table with her arms snaked around a sixth year Hufflepuff that had somehow found his way into the party. James's crossed his arms. He watched her laugh and kiss him so passionately that James was compelled to look away.

"Godric, they're inseparable!" James had complained to Flynn later. "I feel sorry for anyone who wanted to play pool tonight, Moira and that slimeball of a Hufflepuff aren't moving anytime soon."

Flynn had stared him, before laughing. "Mate," he choked as James glared at him in confusion. "You're jealous."

"No I'm not!"

"Ah, yes you are!" Fred piped over James's shoulder, which had started do over the course of the year. James whacked him over the head.

"Ow, okay I do not deserve that!" Fred huffed, puffing his chest out indignantly. James gave Fred a pointed look before turning to deal with Flynn.

"Why would I be jealous? I don't even talk to Moira anymore."

Flynn raised an eyebrow. "You don't need to talk to someone to know you want to get into their pants."

"Flynn!"

Flynn raised his hands in the air and shrugged. "All I'm saying is that you go a year without talking to the girl and now you like her. Why you do you think that's weird? Merlin, she and I are on the same bench for Potions and she's not bad. Think I even made her laugh once."

James nodded, astounded by the fact that Flynn was giving him solid advice when he knew for a fact the Irish boy was half drunk.

"Bottom line: people change, we're at a party and we don't want to hear you babble on about a bird you clearly have the hots for."

James frowned. Okay, maybe Flynn wasn't all that philosophical. But he did have a point- they were at a party and for Godric's sake, he was going to go after Moira Thomas!

"You know, it's probably unwise to make decisions when you're intoxicated," Dominique interrupted, a knowing smile on her face. James groaned, wincing at the part of the story to come.

"Trust me, I know."

When the crowd had begun to disperse back into their dormitories and some even to their houses, James strode over to the pool table. The Hufflepuff was nowhere to be seen but Moira was still sitting on the table, a red cup fitting loosely between her slender fingers. It was only then he fully noticed her appearance. She wore baggy ripped jeans that hung loose against the curve of her hips and a fitted black crop top, both of which highlighted the tautness of her stomach. As James's eyes flickered towards her face he saw that Moira was giving him the same appraisal. Head tilted thoughtfully. Eyes staring without shame.

"Hey," James said pathetically and mentally whacked himself for it. "How are y-"

"I'm fine," Moira interrupted coolly, crossing her arms around her waist. "Now what do you want?"

"Huh?"

She hopped off the table and walked towards him. "Look, I know you think that because we used to be friends that I'll somehow fall in love with you but the truth is, I won't. Everyone thinks a girl changes because she likes a guy but I most certainly did not grow up with the intent to impress you."

"Wha-"

Moira sighed impatiently. "Just go, Potter."

"Play pool with me."

Moira blinked. "What?"

"I said play pool with me," James repeated, regaining the confidence that had seemingly been crushed into a million pieces.

Moira's mouth turned in a half smile as if she was surprised, slowly moving towards the farther side of the table. Then she picked up a cue stick and grinned. "Alright then. You and me, one last game."

"One last game," James nodded, a similar grin appearing on his own face. "For the record, I'm so going to win."

Moira laughed, her nose wrinkling as she squared her shoulders. "Please, you've never won."

"Did anything happen between you two?" Dominique was now sitting cross legged on some guest's bed, entranced by the story. Meanwhile, Fred had fallen asleep on the floor but James figured he deserved the discomfort waiting for him upon awakening.

"That's the point- no!"

"Nothing?" Dominique asked critically, shifting on the bed as Fred continued to snore from the floor.

"Well…"

James knew well before Moira had pocketed the eight ball that he had lost. For the first time ever, he wasn't trying to win against her. Instead he watched her play, noticing the tense lines around her mouth when she made a move and later, the furrow in her dark brows regardless of whether it was a good move. Most of all, he loved to make her laugh with a bad move. It caught Moira off guard every time, her eyes widening comically to make way for startled laughter.

"You're trying to lose, aren't you?" She huffed smilingly, raising an eyebrow at James. "You've lost your touch, Potter."

James laughed, watching her lean over the table and knock the eight ball away to victory. "Maybe I have." Dropping his cue stick on the table, he walked over to where Moira stood. She stepped forward. He could smell her perfume now - rosy but still fresh. He breathed in sharply, aware of the little distance between their bodies. Without hesitation, he leant in and the bitter taste of firewhisky erupted in his mouth as they kissed. Her hands snaked around his shoulders just like she had with that Hufflepuff and James wrapped his around his waist. In reality, it was no different to a regular kiss but James couldn't describe the way she made him feel. The closest word to it was intense.

"You look nice," James blurted out when they pulled away, acutely aware of the heated red rising on his cheek and up his neck. He brushed his dark brown hair back in embarrassment. "I mean-"

"James," Moira said gently and James could hear the pity dripping from voice. "This doesn't change anything."

James blinked. This doesn't change anything. The same words he had uttered himself last year. So why did they seem so unfair now?

"I'm not a game you can play, least of all a game you can win," Moira said, more firmly this time as she turned to leave.

"Okay," he managed, watching her leave the room, a glint of something else in her expression. He sighed, dizzy with confusion until he headed back to his own dorm.

"And that's it," James concluded as Dominique shook her head. "Oh, what now?"

"Jamey, Jamey, Jamey," Dominique said with a playful smile. "You like her."

"What? No, that's impossible, we just hooked up, that's it, honestly why-"

"Cut the crap," Dominique interrupted flatly. "Face it: you like Moira Thomas!"

"What have I been trying to tell you guys this whole time?" Dominique and James turned to see Fred sit up off the ground, groaning about his back. "Thanks for lifting me up onto the bed by the way."

James rolled his eyes, but his mind started turning. He liked Moira and she was here tonight. It was simple in theory but realistically, she didn't like him back. Still, neither did Lily Evans until the original James Potter convinced her otherwise. If he didn't live up to his namesake, what kind of person would he be?

"Alright fine," James conceded with a smirk. "Let's make the best plan we've ever carried out: Mission-Make-Moira-like-me."

"Mmm, I like Mission: JM better," Fred said, standing up enthusiastically to high five his cousins.

"My work here is done," Dominique proclaimed with satisfaction as she ran out to meet Victoire, who was yelling across the house for urgent assistance regarding floral arrangements.

It's been a very long time since I've written anything on fanfiction, but I hope you enjoyed! Even though I no longer write a lot of fanfiction, I thought that it would be nice to finish this series. Feel free to review, I love reading them :)

Knutforyourthoughts