"Evans!"

Lily rolled her eyes, taking her foot off the first step into the Quidditch audience stands. She had hoped that she could just enjoy a nice Quidditch game in peace, but no, he had to ruin even that. Why wasn't he with the rest of the team, anyway, waiting to fly onto the pitch? He was the Captain, for Merlin's sake!

"What, Potter?" She retorted, trying to inject as much contempt as she could into his surname. Snapping her head around to face Potter, she found him just as smug and self-confident as ever - dressed in his Quidditch gear, broomstick in hand, hair purposefully rumpled, glasses slightly askew. Lily quickly glanced at the stands, searching for a head of jet black hair, a hooked nose - no, Sev wasn't around. Why would he be with the Gryffindors, anyway? Her heart sank slightly. She hated James Potter, of course she did - he was an arrogant, selfish git - but most of the reason why she acted so venomously towards him was to calm Sev's constant paranoia that she would succumb to Potter's relentless crush on her. Not that it mattered anymore, anyway. Not after he'd called her a… a…

Worrying about Sev was ingrained into her personality. It was a natural reaction to Potter's behavior. Scanning around for the Slytherin boy was just a habit she'd developed. She had to stop, though. Severus was too far gone down the Death Eater trail. He wasn't the boy she'd met in the playground anymore, the little boy who always wore a huge coat in the heat and introduced her to the world of magic, where she wasn't a freak like Petunia always shrieked…

The boy who had worn such a hateful look on his face as he said the word 'Mudblood' wasn't Sev. It had taken her a while, despite her friends' constant warnings, to realise that the Sev she had grown up with had disappeared a long, long time ago. Possibly from the moment the Sorting Hat had placed them in different Houses.

Diving out from her thoughts, she noted Potter sauntering over to where she stood, her arms crossed, her green eyes fixed on his hazel ones. Potter wasn't so bad, if she took Severus' bias out of the equation. He was without a doubt good-looking; Lily would have had to be a fool to deny that. But she still hated his arrogant nature, the way he walked as if he owned the school, the way he messed up his hair in a pathetic attempt to win croons and lustful looks in his direction.

Well, maybe hate was too strong a word.

"Don't I get a kiss for good luck?" James smirked, raising his eyebrows in false innocence.

"Never." Lily replied, almost too quickly. "Just do your job."

"Evans!" He gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to be heartbroken. "How could you expect me to lead the team to victory without the blessing of a fair damsel?"

Lily suppressed the urge to laugh. Potter mounted his broom.

"You sure, Evans? Last chance!" He stuck out his cheek in a ridiculous fashion. Lily felt the eyes of a group of people sitting at the edge of the stands watching the Quidditch Captain try to woo his target for the millionth time. Lily almost felt the urge to kiss him purely so he'd leave and stop embarrassing her.

"Whatever, Potter. Just get out there and-" Her sentence ended with a small yelp as she felt hands on her hips, hoisting her up into the air. Before she even had time to turn her head and find out who was manhandling her, she felt the wood of James' broomstick beneath her, and suddenly, the earth vanished from beneath her feet as the world tilted.

With a gasp, she instinctively grabbed Potter's body, clinging to it so she wouldn't fall. She was awful at flying - she felt as if she could fall at any moment.

"Evans! I know I'm hard to resist, but in public, really?" James laughed, his smug grin plastered across his face as he soared towards the goalposts.

Lily looked down to where she had been standing previously and saw the laughing figure of Sirius Black. Of course - Potter's partner in crime.

"Get. Me. Down." She said, each word requiring a huge effort so that she wouldn't use her mouth to pour a load of obscenities into Potter's ear. She realised that she still had her arms around Potter's waist, and flushed, grateful that his head wasn't turned to look at her. But she'd rather cling to this hateful boy than fall to her death, which Potter was clearly trying to achieve, laughing all the way as her grip tightened with each change in position. She knew he was capable of much more complex gymnastics in the air - he knew not to push the boundaries, so stopped himself from doing anything more than horizontal circles.

"Aww, Evans, you don't want to demotivate me before the game, do you?" He asked, as he gradually descended.

"Just get me down, you idiotic, arrogant - " Anger drenched every word she spoke.

"But I quite like having your body pressed against mine."

"Potter, I'm warning you…"

As angry words left her mouth, though, a small twinkle of happiness shone within her. This was sort of… nice.

But hell would freeze over before she admitted that to anybody…