Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Summary: Being flown into by a Beater does have its high points.

Of Beaters and Back Injuries

When James Potter advised one of his Beaters, Anthony Hopkins, to chase the Bludgers at all costs, he didn't expect Hopkins to take him so seriously. After all, there was a fine line between chasing a Bludger diligently and actually flying into someone—at a speed of sixty miles per an hour, no less—to get to a Bludger, a line which he assumed Hopkins would have the common sense not to cross. Obviously, James was wrong.

The damage to his back wasn't severe, according to Madam Pomfrey, but she still insisted that James at least stay for the night, as she wanted to make sure he was completely healed before leaving. James didn't bother arguing with this; his back hurt so much he still had trouble moving, let alone walking.

James heard the door to the Hospital Wing open, and he figured Sirius had come back to laugh some more at James ("What kind of idiot," Sirius had asked earlier, grinning, "doesn't notice when a Beater is about to hit him?"). He was pleasantly surprised, therefore, to hear a voice that he instantly recognized as Lily Evans' ask gently, "James? How are you feeling? I'm sorry, that was a stupid question; you must feel horrible."

Ignoring the pain he felt doing so, James turned his head to face Lily. The mere sight of her standing there, her emerald eyes showing concern for him, was enough to lift James out of his annoyed mood. "I've had worse," James assured her. Normally, he would have put on an act of misery just to enjoy some more of Lily's sympathy, but so looked so anxious, biting her lip and shifting from foot to foot, that James couldn't bear to increase her worrying.

"So you'll be fine?" Lily asked, looking slightly more at ease.

James nodded. "I should be out of here in a day or two."

"Good. That's really good." An awkward silence reigned for a bit, and Lily looked around the room, searching for something else to say. "Sirius got a week's worth of detentions, you know?"

"What did he do now?" James laughed, though he immediately regretted it. Not only did his back spasm, but Lily also frowned disapprovingly at James, which stung even more than his injury. He should have realized she wouldn't find detentions as amusing as he did; she hadn't, after all, spent over half of her Hogwarts career in trouble.

"He hexed Hopkins, for obvious reasons," Lily explained, frowning even more deeply when James failed again to hide his mirth. "Don't laugh, James! I know he's a prat, but you're Head Boy now; you set a bad example by laughing at the fact that Hopkins was hexed."

"Come on, Lily," James pleaded. "I'm in pain, and this takes my mind off the pain."

"Well…" Lily sighed. "I suppose it is rather funny. His skin was still violet when I left the Common Room."

James laughed again, trying not to pay attention to his back's angry protests. "I wish I could have seen that," James said wistfully.

Another silence descended over the two, and Lily's gaze wandered around the room again. Her eyes landed on James' beside table and took on a confused look. "James, is that a coloring book?"

"Huh? Oh, er…" James felt his cheeks getting warmer.

Lily couldn't hold back her grin. "I didn't know you liked to color. And with crayons, too!" For, indeed, when she looked more closely at the table, she saw a few colorful crayons scattered about.

"Coloring's not only for little kids, you know?" James muttered somewhat indignantly. He wanted to hide the incriminating evidence, even though Lily had already seen it, but his injured back limited his ability to move. Besides, where would he put everything, if he did manage to grab the stuff?

"Oh, no, of course not," Lily said, her smile widening. She walked over to the bedside table and picked up the coloring book. "Well, at least you stayed within the lines," she applauded, albeit teasingly.

James, though thoroughly embarrassed, couldn't help feeling pride at Lily's praise. "That's true. Sirius always goes about ten inches out of the lines whenever he colors—not that he ever does, of course," James finished lamely.

"Sirius colors, too?" Lily asked in delight. "This is like Christmas come early!"

"No, Sirius doesn't. He definitely doesn't." But even James could tell that denial was a lost cause. "… And he's definitely going to murder me for this."

"I promise I won't let him know that I know. I'll just laugh hysterically in my mind every time I see him from now on."

"Well, as long as it's not out loud," James said dryly. He shrugged, then immediately wished he hadn't done so, for his back had started to throb irately.

Lily caught James' involuntary grimace—even though James, within seconds, had masked his pain with an impassive face—and instantly sobered up. "I hate seeing you hurt like this…"

"I'm fine, it was just a passing twinge. Really," he emphasized, seeing Lily's disbelief. "I'm sure you've got more important things to worry about than me."

"No, that's not true," Lily said quietly. So quietly, in fact, James wasn't sure if he had heard her right.

"It's not?" James asked just as softly.

Suddenly Lily was the embarrassed one. "Well, what I mean to say is, er… we're Head Boy and Girl, so your health is important to me professionally. I can't do my Head duties without you."

"Oh." James sighed. He had thought… no, it was better not to get into that.

"Also," Lily added hurriedly, affected by James' disappointment more than she cared to admit, "you've become such a close friend to me lately that I care about you personally, too."

James brightened at that. "So we're… friends?" he asked.

"Yes," Lily answered. She noticed James was staring at her, staring at her the way he used to right before he'd ask her out. Instinctively, her heart started beating a little faster and her breathing came a little heavier, but James said nothing. For some strange reason, this upset her. "Yes, we're friends."

"Friends. Good." James swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "It's good that we're friends."

Lily nodded. "James, I…" She looked into his hazel eyes and found she could no longer remember what she had been about to say.

"If I… If I kiss you," James asked hesitantly, warily, "will you kill me?"

"I—I don't think so." Lily bit her lip. "I—No. No, I won't," she said firmly.

His back ached as if someone was repeatedly stabbing him with a sharp knife, but James leaned up all the same to lightly touch Lily's lips with his own. He had envisioned this kiss often—nearly every single day, actually—since he had first met Lily, but the reality blew all of his paltry imaginations out of the water. Her lips were soft and warm, and he soon lost his capacity for thinking clearly. Only when the two broke apart minutes later, each breathing heavily and grinning unreservedly, did James' brain begin to function somewhat.

One thought was foremost above all others: If he had known that getting Lily to kiss him was a simple matter of being flown into by a Beater, he would have let it happen ages ago.