Hi everyone!

So this turned from a small idea into a mammoth fic but I hope it's worth the read. It's basically me fangirling over James and writing a fic about that. There's a little/tiny/barely noticeable bit of something that looks like smut - this warning probably isn't desperately necessary but I just want to make sure no one stumbles into reading anything that they don't want to.

I hope you all enjoy, thank you for reading, and please leave a review if you can!

SP7

James had to hand it to Sirius – he'd found a deserted park in London.

"And the muggles definitely don't use it?" He asked, eyes straining to see down to the end of the park, past the trees that Remus was currently kicking.

"Nope," Sirius confirmed, from where he was sprawled on the ground, staring up at the sky. "I've been here a few times – they don't pay any attention to it. But if you're worried we can just use a masking spell."

"Probably a good idea," James replied, turning his gaze across the park to the rusted gates where muggles and traffic passed outside. "I don't fancy getting pulled up before the Department over this."

The Department of Magical Games and Sports were already not James's biggest fan - not after the diplomatic incident he caused by bringing two animagi and a werewolf into Bulgaria during the last World Cup. So, his idea of running a Quidditch Club over the summer hadn't exactly gone down a storm.

However, having never paid much attention to what worried 'officials' thought during his school days, James wasn't about to start now.

"How did you find this place?" Remus asked sceptically, dandering back over to James and Sirius with his arms folded.

"I need somewhere in the city to run," Sirius shrugged, now star-fishing in the grass, "have to stretch out somehow. I found this park."

"So, basically, you've peed on every tree here, yes?"

"Yup."

"Ignoring that," James interjected hastily, "what do you think?" He asked Remus, clapping an arm down on his shoulder. It was Remus's approval for the idea that he wanted most of all as he was counting on Remus to handle all of the paperwork. Plus, he was his agent so technically James needed his permission before he took on any work, charitable or otherwise.

"I never actually thought he'd find a park," Remus sighed.

"The fact that you would doubt me…" Sirius protested dramatically from beneath them.

"Come on! It's a good idea," James bolstered, shaking Remus's shoulders.

In Remus's defence, they had tried this last summer, down in Dorset in between the end of the League and when Puddlemere would start training again. The club had gone very well up until the point a parent had asked Sirius if he thought their child would make it as a professional quidditch player. Sirius had given him an honest answer which the dad did not take well and the whole thing had ended in James on page 4 of the Prophet and having to explain himself to the Department, and his team's publicity branch, again.

"It was a good idea last year," Remus replied, surveying the park. "It's not the strength of the idea I'm worried about."

"This year will be different," James coaxed, kicking Sirius until he got off the ground. "Sirius will behave himself, we know what went wrong last year and given the press last week, this needs to happen more than ever."

James was referring to the stats released last week that showed the muggleborns were woefully underrepresented in the professional quidditch industry – a fact that many commentators had chalked up to the years of advantage children from magical families had when it came to quidditch practice.

"The only way we're going to get more muggleborns into quidditch is if we start training them before Hogwarts," he continued, knowing he was getting through to Remus when he saw a look of reluctant agreement appear on his face. "This is the best way to do that."

"Nowhere else is offering free training from professional players, Moony," Sirius chimed in pragmatically. "And I promise to behave myself – especially if it will take that look off your face."

"We should offer it to low-income wizarding families too," Remus suggested, a small smile starting to form on his face. "Not every wizarding family is going to have access to the best brooms or money to pay for tickets to go see matches."

"Excellent idea!" James agreed. "So, you'll help?"

"Yes," Remus sighed, his head falling forward. "I will help, but you will behave," he went on, rounding on Sirius. "No fighting with parents."

"Yes, no fighting with parents," Sirius retorted, sounding hassled as the three of them walked towards the parks exit. "No fighting with them, no telling them the honest truth about their child's abilities…"

"No fighting, no taunting, no telling their kids how to perform NEWT level hexes…"

"Alright," Sirius agreed miserably as Remus went on.

"…no sleeping with their mums…"

"Since when was that a problem last year?!"

"It wasn't but I'm covering my bases. Add it to the list."

"It's added," James replied, quite confident that it wasn't an issue he'd ever have to deal with. "Now that Moony is on board, we can start putting the word out. I'll put an ad in the Prophet and speak to Albus and we can go from there."

Four weeks later, at the start of July, James was standing in the middle of the same park with the sun streaming down and at least thirty kids all running circles around each other.

"How may kids did you sign up, Moony?" He asked a little sheepishly – he wasn't expecting the demand to be at this level.

"You are a very popular player, Prongs," Remus replied matter-of-factly, smiling as he handed a parent their 'everything you need to know' handout as the kid bolted to the other side of the park to join the group. "They print t-shirts with your face on them. You shouldn't be surprised that kids want you to teach them how to play."

"Yeah but I'm not sure I can teach that many…"

"You and Padfoot said you could take around fifteen each."

"Yeah…"

"And there are twenty-nine kids – you have fourteen, he has fifteen."

"Fine," James smiled tightly, "I just forgot how big a group of fifteen was. Do we have enough brooms?"

"Patricia delivered them last night," Remus informed him, referring to the head of the PR Department at Puddlemere. "She said anymore trouble this year and you and Sirius are paying for them all out of your wages."

"Everyone here?" Sirius asked, jogging over to them, broom over his shoulders, beater's bat in his left hand.

"Full house," Remus responded happily, "they're all yours."

"You still happy to take the younger ones?" Sirius asked him as they walked towards the children who were rapidly falling silent as they approached.

"Yep," James agreed, "okay," he yelled to the group, "everyone aged between 6 and 10, come with me please. The rest of you are with Sirius."

James turned and walked to the left of the pitch where some trees provided a welcome bit of shade, unable to keep himself from smiling when he observed fourteen little heads bobbing after him, all chattering to each other quietly.

"Right," he smiled, chucking his own broom down into the thicket as the kids formed a ragtag semi-circle around him. "Hi everyone – I'm James."

"Hi James," they all chorused back to him allowing James to inwardly reflect on the fit Minerva McGonagall would have if she saw him in any form of teaching role.

"Who here likes quidditch?" He asked, and all fourteen hands shot into the air. "Good start," he grinned, "and who can tell me the seven positions in quidditch?"

Some of the hands remained in the air and James was about to pick one but was saved the trouble when a small, red headed child opened his mouth.

"Two beaters, two keepers, a seeker…"

"Well done," James interrupted, as he had intended to drag this bit out for a few minutes before that kid had ruined it. "That's six – who can tell me the other one?"

Again, a number of hands flew into the air and James surveyed the group before choosing a slight boy in the front row with the most extraordinary eyes he had ever seen.

"Yes?"

"The one you play," the boy spoke, quietly yet confident all the same, "Chaser."

"Exactly," James smiled, "there are two Chasers. Well done…?"

"Harry," the boy filled in, a bashful look coming over his face.

"Well done Harry," he repeated. "So," he continued, "now that we know the positions, who can tell me what they all do?"

"The seeker chases the snitch," said a small girl with long red hair, who was definitely the youngest of the group.

"That's right…?"

"Ginny."

"Ginny is right – the seeker chases and hopefully catches the snitch," James went on, slightly enjoying the way they were all so eager to join in. "What does a beater do?"

"Hits things!" Two of the older boys at the back of the group yelled in unison, jumping with excitement as James observed that they must be twins.

"You're mostly right," James corrected carefully, "but a beater doesn't hit just anything."

"They hit the bludgers," the first red headed boy stated smartly.

"Good job…?"

"Ron."

"Good job, Ron," James grinned, "a beater will hit a bludger and their job is to protect their team and to stop the other team," he continued, leaving out the part where they did this by forcibly injuring other players. "Now – what do I do?"

"You get the quaffle and put it through one of the hoops," Harry replied immediately, "you have a 94 per cent goal rate when throwing with your right hand and 92 per cent with your left," the boy continued, half garbling the words as they spilled out of his mouth, "and you invented the Potter pass."

"It's 91 per cent with his left hand," Ron replied before James could even open his mouth.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is," Ron retorted heatedly, as Harry pulled something out of his back pocket.

"Look," he said animatedly, opening what looked like a well-thumbed small book and pointing to some writing that James couldn't see, "92 per cent."

Sensing a bigger argument coming on as Ron's whole face turned red, James smiled hastily at the group and asked a question he knew would get their attention.

"Who wants to fly?"

The shrieking and jumping that followed knocking him a step backwards, James pointed towards Remus at the top of the pitch.

"Well go get your brooms."

The kids all scrambled and burst off towards Remus as James watched them go. It was only when the crowd that cleared that he realised that Harry was still there.

"It really was 92," he said shyly, ambling towards James with the book outstretched.

Taking the book, James flicked it closed to see it was one of the player promo books that clubs sometimes sent out to the fans in advance of the new season. This was last year's ones.

"You're a member of the fan club?" James asked, knowing that only paid up members of the club got access to this stuff.

Harry nodded emphatically, taking the book back from James. "Can I be a chaser?" He asked, still with the same bashfulness which was actually quite endearing.

"Sure," James smiled, "go get your broom."

"Children are exhausting," Sirius announced as they arrived back to his and Remus's house, which was currently serving as Quidditch club headquarters. "How long did we say we'd do this for again?"

"Six weeks," James reminded him, equally as tired as he closed the front door. "How was your lot?"

"Not bad," Sirius responded, traipsing into the living room before he throwing himself into the nearest arm chair. "Decent skill set – as usual it's their flying that needs work."

"Lots of Dunphy's?" James asked, referring to Bob Dunphy, a keeper for the Canons who was infamous for his ability to save but not fly.

"Not as bad as that," Sirius grinned, "just some balance and perception stuff they need to do and then we can work on the harder bits. What about yours?"

"Mixed ability," he observed, "there were some kids who've never flown before," he said, his mind now drifting back to Harry, "but they'll get there. It was only day one."

By day five, James was revising his opinion of Harry. The kid was a ridiculously fast learner. A week after the first time he had been on a broom, he was already the best flyer in the group. Not only did he have the best handle on the broom – so much so that James was considering giving him the model – but he zipped in and out of all the other players during their exercises, light and speedy, winning all the races in no time at all. He was progressing so quickly that James was starting to become concerned that he'd grow bored of the pace of the group.

There was also another problem which was becoming rapidly apparent: whilst Harry had several times expressed his desire to be a Chaser, to James's eye, the boy was a natural born seeker. Easily the fastest flyer of both groups, he was also performing the best in all the coordination exercises – able to catch whatever sized ball was thrown at him where others would struggle as soon as the ball became smaller than the quaffle.

"Harry, stay behind a minute, would you?" James asked at the end of the day, just after the second week of club had begun. Gesturing over to Sirius, who had agreed to be a second pair of eyes for this particular test, James mounted his broom and told Harry to do the same.

Balancing a bucket of fake snitches – essentially small round balls that couldn't fly - on his broom, James faced Harry whilst Sirius, now also on his broom, flew behind the kid.

"You know how we've been playing with balls that don't fly?" He said to Harry, who nodded eagerly. "Well, Sirius and I are going to throw these between us. Try and catch them, yeah?"

Thinking he'd start off easy, James chucked the ball over Harry's head towards Sirius. Unsurprisingly, it didn't make it to Sirius as Harry caught it as though he'd been doing it his entire life.

"Give him a challenge, Prongs," Sirius called causing Harry to giggle.

"Alright, calm your comet," James retorted, enjoying Harry's response. With a bit of effort, James whipped another ball around to Sirius's right.

Again, the ball made it as far as Harry whose broom lunged to the right and he caught the ball effortlessly.

James's eyes met Sirius. He was starting to see what James had wanted him to.

This time, not giving Harry a moment to reset, James picked up another ball and flung it directly at Sirius, in barely any doubt that the boy would miss this one – he had thrown it too fast and the boy was too far to their right.

James was correct, as although Harry spun his broom round and flew towards Sirius as fast as he could, he only got there in time to meet Sirius's chest. Still, it was impressive flying.

James was about to console Harry, when he saw the look on Sirius's face.

"Prongs," Sirius said quietly, "come here."

At this, James flew gently towards Sirius and Harry, whose brooms were right beside each other, except facing the opposite way. When he arrived at their level, James was able to see what was causing Sirius to look so stunned.

Sirius's hands were clasped in the middle of his chest, clearly poised to catch the fake snitch. Only, in between Sirius's hands and the snitch, was Harry's hand, clasped around the ball, seemingly catching it seconds before it had dropped into Sirius's palms.

Again, James met his teammate's eyes.

"Alright kid, you can go home," James smiled, guiding his broom downwards to the ground and setting down the bucket. "That's all for today."

"You should speak to Dave," Sirius observed as they watched Harry run towards the entrance to the park. "There are two seekers in the world who could've caught that throw – one is currently playing for the US national team. The other is our coach. He'd be interested in the boy."

"First I have to break it to him that he's actually a seeker," James noted, stripping off his gloves before climbing off his broom. "He's not going to like it. The kid's got his heart set on being a chaser."

"That's only because he idolises you," Sirius said plainly, copying James by touching down. "You tell him that being a seeker is the best position on the team and he'll leap at it."

It took James another full day teaching at quidditch club before he was absolutely certain that he needed to tell Harry he should be playing seeker. He also decided he'd need to speak to Harry's parents because he was fairly certain that their coach would want to follow the boy as he started to play school quidditch.

When they were sending all the kids' home that Tuesday, James casually followed Harry out of the park where he observed him greeting the woman who was presumably his mother.

"Hi," James called out, trying to stop the woman and Harry before they moved away. "Hi, sorry for stopping you," he said, reaching them. As his eyes ran over the woman, he noted Harry must have received his extraordinary eyes from his father. "I'm James Potter, one of the coaches here. I just wanted to chat about Harry and his…"

"Don't talk to me," the woman interrupted James coldly, her eyes filled with disdain as she took him in, before quickly flicking her eyes onto the street to avoid looking at him, "don't talk to me about him, about what you were doing in there. Don't talk to me about anything, ever."

With that, the woman marched off with Harry following gloomily behind her.

James didn't get the chance to speak to Harry about what had happened the previous evening before the club commenced the next day. Nor, if he was honest, did he wish to do so. He had spoken to Remus and Sirius about the reception he had received from Harry's mother, and both had agreed it was strange, but that it was possibly a family issue that they should stay away from. James agreed to the plan but decided he would keep an eye on Harry nevertheless. He hated the idea that the boy wouldn't realise his potential at quidditch just because his mother disliked the sport.

Regardless, Harry seemed completely unfazed by the episode, performing as well as he ever did and chatting happily away to his friends throughout the entire day.

They had just sent the kids running off to their parents and were walking back towards Remus at his makeshift office when they noticed he wasn't alone.

"Who's Moony talking to?" Sirius queried as they traipsed up the pitch.

"No idea," James replied, straining his eyes as he noticed their friend was chatting with a young woman. The wind blew and her long red hair streamed backwards in the air. Granted, they weren't that close to her but from this distance, it looked to James like the girl was incredibly pretty.

"God, this is definitely one of your groupies," Sirius droned, kicking the grass with his feet.

"What are you talking about?"

"Denim skirt, flowing hair and has that 'I bake muffins once a week' air about her," Sirius responded disdainfully as they continued walking, "she may as well have 'I heart James Potter' on her t-shirt. Probably saw the ad in the Prophet and tracked you down here."

"Ah, James," Remus started as they reached his table and the girl turned to greet them. When he finally saw her up close, James decided he didn't mind at all if she was one of his groupies.

"Listen, if you're here to shag him, the proper procedure is to just show up naked in his bedroom," Sirius announced, cutting off Remus who immediately looked mortified. "You didn't have to show up at his summer project for kids. I wouldn't worry though," he continued, when the group was completely silent, "you're his type. I doubt he'll hold it against you."

"This is Lily Evans," Remus interjected loudly, fixing Sirius with a horrified glare. "She's Harry's mum," he enunciated brutally as suddenly her eyes made sense to James. "She asked to speak with you, James."

As overtly furious as Remus looked, the woman James now knew to be Lily looked incredibly amused by the whole thing. At least Sirius at the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"Nice to meet you," Lily smiled knowingly, giving James a brief nod.

"In my defence, you're very young to be anyone's mother," Sirius said gruffly, walking behind Remus's table.

"You're very old to still be saying the first thing that comes into you head," Lily replied pleasantly, as both James and Remus stifled laughs.

"You eh…wanted to speak to me," James prompted, thinking that it was best to start the conversation before Sirius got a chance to respond.

"Yes," Lily said, and for the first time a shade of awkwardness appeared on her face – which was becoming more and more beautiful the longer he looked at her, "I heard you met my sister yesterday."

James shook his head until the thin, cross lady from yesterday entered into his mind and he pieced together what she was talking about and Lily nodded along.

"That is exactly the face everyone makes when they've met Petunia," she observed ruefully, gesturing at his chin. "I wanted to come and apologise. Harry told me what she said to you. It was unbelievably rude," Lily went on.

"That's okay."

"No, it's not," Lily disagreed earnestly, "but she…well, she's a muggle and she hates all of this," she told him, looking around the park, "it took hours of pleading just to get her to pick him up from here sometimes. Anyways, Harry was upset and worried and…and I didn't, we didn't want you to be offended or…"

"I'm not offended at all," James reassured her, more moved than he would care to admit by her obvious anxiety, "honestly. I'm just glad Harry has a mum who doesn't hate quidditch."

"Well, I don't hate it, but it's definitely more his interest than mine," she laughed lightly tucking her hair behind her ears in an unusually charming way. "He seems like he's loving it here."

"He's very good," James said, "that was why I wanted to speak to you. To let you know how good he is."

"He is?" She asked, seeming surprised but pleased.

"Yeah," he nodded, "we all agree Harry is excellent," he said, gesturing to Sirius and Remus. "He's got the most potential I've ever seen in a child. If it's properly nurtured, he could end up playing professionally."

Smiling because she looked genuinely shocked, James looked over his shoulder to see Harry running in a circle around Ron and Ginny.

"What does that mean? Properly nurtured?"

"Well, as a first step, we'd like to pass his name to our coach at Puddlemere," James told her, "Dave is a great coach and he and his team have an eye for talent. They'd keep an eye on him as he went through school. Maybe bring him in to train a few times – work with some older seekers…"

"That's not the one he wants to be," Lily interrupted, so innocently that James couldn't help but tease her a little.

"What's the one he wants to be?" He smirked, recognising that the energy between them had changed as Lily stared him down.

"The one you are," she responded smartly, "a chaser?"

"Yes, I am a chaser," he conceded.

"I bet you are," Lily batted back, a glint in her unique eyes as they ran over him.

"Okay, so James would pass on Harry's name and Puddlemere would work with him," Remus cut in bluntly, depriving James of his ability to respond as he noticed that at some point he had moved closer to Lily.

"And you think he's a seeker?"

"He definitely is," Sirius replied easily, "potentially better than most kids at Hogwarts right now. So, he can play chaser and be average or he can focus on being a seeker and probably represent his country some day."

Seeming to think this over quickly, Lily began to nod slowly.

"Okay," she agreed, "but only if he says yes too."

"Absolutely," James replied, "I can speak to him about it."

Evidently, James wouldn't have to wait long as Harry came bounding into view and nudged up against Lily's legs.

"Hi P," she smiled, ruffling his hair affectionately. "You ready to go?"

Harry nodded, shoving his hand into Lily's in what was obviously a well practised move.

"Say goodbye."

"Bye," Harry waved happily. "See you tomorrow."

With one final smile, Lily turned away and walked towards the gate with Harry toddling after her.

James was watching them go when Sirius appeared in front of him with a piece of paper in his hands.

"What's that?"

"Moony's list," Sirius grinned, running his finger down over the page, "no fighting, no taunting, no telling kids how to perform NEWT level hexes and no sleeping with the mums," he finished, placing a particular gleeful emphasis on the last point. "Just making sure you remembered."

"No exceptions," Remus added, packing up the papers on the table in a business-like fashion. "No matter how pretty she is," he concluded as he caught sight of James's face.

"You saw how pretty she is, right?" James half-objected, turning back to watch Harry and Lily in the distance.

Walking around the table with his papers under his arm, Remus fixed him with a pointed look "no exceptions."

Happily enough for James and his agreement with Remus, Lily didn't come down to the club very often. Most days after practice, James observed Harry running towards the gates of the park and his aunt, who always had her back rigidly to the entrance.

This didn't stop James from wondering where she was, and why she didn't come to collect Harry, but he mostly kept these thoughts to himself and acted as though he hadn't thought about her again.

Sirius, however, was not helping matters. Either he was trying to get James into trouble (not the first time) or he really wanted to see James together with Lily.

"How's your mum, Harry?" Sirius asked, as James and he flew around the child during their usual end of day seeker practise. James didn't miss the daring look Sirius threw him.

"Fine," was the uninterested response from Harry, who was obviously, and correctly, more focused on catching the balls they were lobbing around him.

"Is she collecting you today?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Working," Harry managed, lunging his broom to the left and making a particularly impressive catch.

Sirius seemed to consider this for a moment, flying gently around Harry and James before he spoke again.

"We met your mum last week," he stated, casually flinging a ball in the air.

"I know."

"Oh?

"She said."

"What did she say?" Sirius returned quickly, having clearly scented something.

"That she met you. And you," he replied, nodding towards James lastly.

"Your mum's very nice," Sirius tried, again shooting another dancing look at James.

"She said you were very nice," Harry responded, still looking at James.

"Did she?" Sirius asked, sounding delighted as he flew directly into James's eye line again.

Harry nodded, now looking considerably bored as no one had thrown a ball for a few moments. "She said you were very nice and that you look nice in real life, like in your photos."

This time, Sirius wasn't the only one who responded, as James felt his eyebrows leapt into his hair.

"What was that?" Sirius coaxed, grinning dangerously at James.

Harry shrugged, "I don't really know. You have nice photos maybe," he tried to explain, his own eyes trained solely on the bucket of balls.

"I think James has nice photos too," Sirius agreed. "Surely, your mum's boyfriend won't like her saying that about James though."

James was just about to reprimand Sirius for his question, when Harry answered, "she doesn't have one," and then before Sirius could speak again, "I think I see my aunt at the gates," Harry announced, clearly realising that there wasn't going to be any more training today, "I should go. She gets angry if I make her wait too long."

Letting his broom drift back to the ground, Harry hopped off and ran off towards the gates with a wave.

"Bye," James called after him, dropping down to the ground himself and slinging both his and Harry's brooms over his shoulder. "You shouldn't have asked him about his mum's private life."

Falling into step beside him, Sirius snorted derisively, "please. I already knew she didn't have a boyfriend. I was just checking."

"You did?"

"Well, she was flirting quite openly with you, for one thing," he responded, as James ignored the pleasurable jump his stomach gave, "and I looked – there's no ring on her finger."

"Any particular reason you're trying to make this happen?"

Sirius thought about this for a moment, "she insulted me. I like her."

Laughing vigorously at this, James shook his head as they walked back towards Remus.

"That, and I want to watch Moony's head explode when you two hit it off."

James was well known for his composure and coherence under pressure on the quidditch pitch. Off the field, he was better known in the public for his propensity to do mischievous or ridiculous things at times of great importance.

So, two days later, when he observed Lily Evans storming across the park, eyes alight with fury, James had to remind himself not to do anything stupid – like ask her out.

"Where is he?" She breathed quietly, eyes darting between James and Remus.

"Lily, what's…" Remus started before he was cut off.

"Where is Sirius?" She spat.

"He had to go early today," Remus informed her warily, "why? What did he do?"

"Okay, well you can tell your friend," she began heatedly, now glaring primarily at James, "that the next time he wants to know anything about my private life, he can grow a pair and ask me, not Harry. Got that?"

"Eh, yeah, I'll make sure he knows," James replied sheepishly, already feeling Remus's eyes on the back of his neck.

"Lily, whatever Sirius said we're…" Remus tried before getting cut off again.

"So, what is it?" She continued, losing none of her ferocity. "Some activity or something you're trying to do?"

"What?" James questioned, now completely lost and desperately trying not to see how unsettlingly attractive she was with flaming red cheeks and blazing eyes.

"Some quidditch thing," Lily ground out exasperatedly, waving her hands in the air. "Something that you'd need Harry to bring a man to the pitch for? Because, let me tell you, whatever it is, I will do it. I will play with him. He doesn't need anyone here other than me, okay?"

"James isn't planning anything like, right, Prongs?" Remus placated desperately, stepping a little closer to Lily to reassure her.

"No, not at all," James managed, just quickly enough that it didn't becoming blindingly obvious that he was just staring at her. "There must've been some misunderstanding."

"Harry said you were asking about men."

James felt a sinking feeling come across his whole body as he observed Remus finally catching on to what had happened.

"We were just messing about," he replied idiotically, suddenly feeling the overwhelming need to apparate away from Remus's deathly eyes. "I'm sorry if we upset him. That's the last thing I'd want."

"You didn't upset him," Lily retorted dryly. "But I've taken him to enough of these things to know where these conversations end up. And I may be rubbish at flying but I'd learn for him."

If the previous fire and fury hadn't completely bewitched James, now he was gone. Her fierce protectiveness over Harry was perhaps the most charming thing he'd ever seen – if Remus hadn't been standing beside him, he would've asked Lily out then and there. As it was, thankfully Remus was there, saving him from appearing a bigger fool than he already had.

"There is no parent-child activity planned," Remus repeated sternly, "the only thing any child requires to play is a broom. That's it. I promise."

Lily seemed to consider this for a moment, the anger in her eyes seeming to dim a little though the flush remained.

"Okay," she said eventually, her eyes flickering back to Remus. "Thank you."

"We're sorry for any confusion," came Remus's earnest response, although James could still feel the tension radiating off his friend's person.

Lily nodded, her gaze moving down to where the kids were happily playing.

"I'm sorry for yelling," she replied, still watching the group of children running around carelessly. "When it comes to him, I can just see red sometimes."

"Don't be," James said, now fully aware that he was speaking only to get her attention back on him as quickly as possible. "You're great."

Unfortunately, James only heard what he had said after he had said it. Nevertheless, the full force of his stupidity hit him within seconds as Lily's eyes snapped back to his, with a look in them that said she too might finally have worked out why Sirius had been quizzing Harry about men.

"I mean, it's great that Harry has you looking out for him," he corrected weakly, wondering if Remus was going to hex him or Sirius first.

A small, endearing smile made its way onto Lily's lips.

"Thanks," she said softly, now watching him with eyes that were becoming more and more suggestive the longer James took her in.

For a brief moment, he wished desperately that Remus and all the kids were gone and it was only he and Lily alone in the field together.

"I should go get him," she continued, breaking away from James's eyes, much to his dislike. "I'll see you around," she finished with a hint of a question in it, now smiling again as she walked away.

"Yeah, definitely," James called after her, his legs fully carrying him after her until he was stopped by the appearance of Remus in front of him.

"Wrap up the day," Remus directed steadily, though James knew the full scolding was going to come later, "we'll talk about this later."

Talking about this later turned out to mean listening to Remus rant about it for a good hour. Sirius appeared to be completely unconcerned by Remus's objections to his questions – nodding and looking sufficiently scolded at all the right points – but James could tell he was barely listening. It was the exact same expression both of them had perfected in the face of McGonagall's displeasure.

James liked to think he had matured a little since the lectures at Hogwarts and he could see some of the logic behind Remus's concerns – particularly as his agent, it made sense that Remus would worry about things like his public appearance. That didn't mean that James had to stop thinking about Lily, however. In the first place it wasn't easy when he saw Harry every day: he would see Harry and think about their life at home. He had no reason for thinking this but he imagined their home to be warm and filled with colours like green and orange.

He liked to let his mind settle on the comforting image of Lily at home with Harry, arms wrapped around him, maybe whilst she read him a book.

Of course, there were other times when his thoughts about Lily weren't so wholesome and he imagined her in entirely different positions, usually hovering above him with those eyes of hers pouring down into his.

He consoled himself by reminding his guilty conscience that Remus had said nothing about imagining sleeping with Lily and what Remus didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Happily, he didn't have to work to distract himself for too long. The Magpies had proposed a friendly with Puddlemere – to break up the summer drought of quidditch – and James was desperate to get back out on the pitch. He loved teaching the kids but being around a quaffle every day and not throwing it anywhere was starting to grate.

On the day of the match, James felt the telltale adrenaline pumping through his veins as he mounted his broom and ascended into the stadium. The roar of the crowd, the smell of wet grass, the sight of Sirius chucking his bat into the air – three times for luck – all of it felt and looked like home.

Usually, friendlies weren't played with that much vigour and effort but James was ready for this one. He played like he was playing at the last Quidditch World Cup.

6 goals in (5 from James, 1 by Diggory), James took a bludger to his ribs but barely noticed it. He knew it would hurt in the morning but the energy coursing through him just propelled his broom faster.

The match ended 350 – 90.

"Fucking hell, Potter," Dave greeted them as the team traipsed into the locker room, "what have they been feeding you in London?"

James grinned, "just the usual diet of firewhisky and junior quidditch, Coach," he advised happily.

"I might have to send the whole team down to your club if you're learning that level of play," Dave observed, clapping his hand around James's shoulder. "The kids will have enjoyed seeing you, I imagine."

"What?" James asked, dumping his broom down at his bench before tearing off his goggles.

"Your kids," Dave replied, "Patricia sent down tickets for them all to see the match. Didn't Remus tell you?"

James turned around to see Sirius looking equally clueless, "nope," he said, not at all perturbed. In fact, he was quite happy they'd come down to see the best match he'd had in a while, "but great. I'm glad they got to see a good match."

"I think she's organised some juice and food for them in the conference room if you want to see them?"

"Yeah, I'll be up in a few," James agreed, now peeling off his jersey, in desperate need for a shower.

The main difference that James had noticed between professional quidditch and the kind played at Hogwarts was the quality of the locker room showers. He could always be relied upon to be the last player out of the locker rooms because he was too busy appreciating the showers at Puddlemere.

To his own credit, he spent a little less time showering this day in order to get up to see the kids.

He had just exited the shower, noticing that the entire team was gone already, and was wrapped in a towel wondering if any parents – well, one in particular - had come along with the kids, when he heard a scuffling outside the door.

"Harry, no!" He heard a familiar angry voice just before the door burst open and Harry bolted through it.

"Hi kid," he greeted shakily, grabbing his towel to make sure it was firmly secured around his waist.

Harry seemed just about to leap into James's arms whenever the door swung open behind him and in ran Lily.

"I am so…" she started, before her eyes fell down over James. He would have been lying if he had said his ego hadn't leapt a little at the flush that came over her cheeks when she caught sight of him in the only the towel.

The other main difference James had noticed between quidditch at Puddlemere and quidditch at Hogwarts was the work outs.

As Hogwarts, you could play quidditch as long as you could get the broom off the ground and no one really paid much attention to what you did off the pitch, provided you showed up for training and matches. At Puddlemere, you couldn't get away with that. They watched what you ate, drank and there was mandatory training at the gym three times a week.

All of which meant that James was in pretty good shape. A fact he was very happy about as he watched Lily stare at him brazenly.

"You were amazing!" Harry yelled abruptly, breaking the silence in the room. James felt a small smile appear on his face as Lily finally met his gaze, her eyes dark and filled with intent.

"Thanks kid," he replied lowly, now revelling in the beautifully bashful smile upon her face.

"There are biscuits upstairs," Harry continued sincerely, as if imparting a very important piece of information.

"I'll be upstairs in a couple of minutes if you want to go on without me," he suggested, the corner of his mouth twitching as he watched Lily smirk at his very obvious attempts to be alone with her.

"Molly's just outside, Harry," Lily interjected, shooting James another look that made him take a step towards her, "she'll bring you up to the room."

"We have those pictures!" Harry screeched, ignoring them both and pointing to the photographs that decorated the walls of the locker room. These were the professional photos that the higher ups had organised – various ones of all the team's players on and off broom that decorated every inch of the team's stadium. Generally, the brief seemed to be to make them all look as cool and athletic as possible.

James always shuddered to think of the eternal photo shoot that had taken place just to get the one shot of him that they were happy with – in the end, a photo with him reaching up to punt a quaffle whilst sprinting on his broom.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, inwardly delighting as Lily's blush deepened.

"Yup," Harry nodded happily, "that one of you. It's in my room, only mummy borrows it sometimes."

James felt his stomach jump as suddenly that three-hour photo shoot seemed entirely worth it.

"Oh, does she?" He grinned, more than enjoying the charming way in which she was coyly smiling at him.

"Yup," Harry said again in the exact same way, "for her room."

"Harry, go find Molly now," Lily cut in softly, her eyes again dropping to his chest.

"You'll be up soon?" Harry confirmed to James.

"Right behind you, kid," James said, eyes still fixed on Lily, "just need to make sure your mum has all the photos she needs."

With a shining smile, Harry bolted out of the room, door swinging shut behind him.

As soon as Harry left, the entire air in the room changed and James had never been more conscious that he was wearing a towel and nothing else.

"What are you doing with my photos in your room, Evans?" He asked lowly, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having her in between him and the wall.

"I'm sure you have no trouble imagining, Potter," she responded a little breathlessly, letting her back hit the wall as he moved forward.

"Last thing I need is more to imagine about you," he shot back, his hand coming up to rest on the wall above her head, taking advantage of how much taller than her he was.

"What can I say?" She shrugged with that unfairly attractive smirk, "Harry's not the only Potter fan in our house." Again, James felt that swooping sensation in his stomach – this girl was going end him.

"Fucking hell, Lily," he chuckled, his head dropping closer to hers as he tried not to get lost in her eyes, "I'm not supposed to be flirting with you."

"Then stop flirting with me," she replied easily, tilting her chin up to his.

He let out a deep sigh, "you're making it very…" he cut off as he caught her eyes flashing with mirth, "…difficult."

Lily's hair fell prettily across her face as she finally looked away from him.

"I'm not supposed to be flirting with you either," she said eventually.

"Oh yeah? Why not?"

"Because Harry's your number one fan," she told him, now speaking with him seriously. "And he wins. I'm not going to mess up his relationship with you by…getting to know you better," she finished, seemingly choosing her words carefully.

"Why would it mess anything up?" He queried, now aware that he was arguing against his earlier point.

"I know what you're all like," Lily teased, extricating herself from underneath him and moving towards the doors. "I read the papers."

"You know that's all rubbish, right?" James pressed – he couldn't step outside and be within two miles of a woman without Witch Weekly suggesting he was sleeping with her.

"Of course," Lily replied sarcastically, "I'm sure girls never throw themselves at you."

"Funnily enough, the one girl I want to throw herself at me is saying she can't," he observed quickly, following her to the door as she pushed it open.

"Guess we'll just have to keep imagining, Potter," she said, with one final meaningful look before walking away from him. "If it helps, I'll won't have to borrow Harry's posters anymore after this."

"Always happy to help, Evans," he called after her, smiling as he watched her bounce down the hallway, her red hair flowing behind her.

The rest of that day had been spent eating biscuits, chatting with his kids and teammates but most of all, sharing fleetingly pointed glances with Lily and trying desperately not to follow her around the room.

Harry, on the other hand, barely left his side, asking endless but endearing questions about the game and how he had strategised his shots.

James answered them all but in the back of his head he was still ruminating on what Lily had said to him: he was aware that the tabloid papers loved to paint a particularly glamorous picture of his life but he hadn't realised his reputation as a serial dater had been that well established.

Absolutely none of it was true. Like any of his other teammates, James dated and had been in relationships – nothing particularly serious – but unlike some of the more infamous quidditch players that James was aware of, he wasn't picking up a different woman every night. It concerned him that maybe he was more infamous than he had thought.

James was still considering this a few days later when the club started up again the next week.

He was doing his level best to just concentrate on the kids – in particular, how Ginny now seemed to be the best amongst the bunch – but as usual, the presence of Harry was causing him to dwell on Lily and her opinion of him.

"You're being particularly useless today, Prongs," Sirius observed as he whizzed past on his broom.

"Go back to your own group, Padfoot," he muttered, before yelling across the field, "Fred, stop hitting that bludger towards your own team. You're supposed to be aiming it away from them."

"What's up?" Sirius pressed, now stalling beside him. "You've been in a mood since the weekend."

James chose to ignore him, still directing his attention to the kids in front of him, "good job, Ginny. Now try from the left."

"Is it Evans?" Sirius guessed, "did she turn you down?"

"No, she did not," James sighed, giving up on the charade. "She made it very clear she wants to go out with me but won't because she doesn't want to mess up my friendship with Harry."

"Why would she think that?"

"Apparently, I'm a bit of a player."

Sirius barely contained the snort that escaped him, "you?!" He exclaimed, letting out a loud laugh. "Since when?"

"Since Witch Weekly says I'm sleeping with every woman in a ten-mile radius."

"You've been keeping that quiet," Sirius said, catching a rogue quaffle and flinging it back to Ron.

"Evidently, I haven't," James retorted, now preoccupied with watching the snitch whizz from one end of the field to another. "I wonder why Lily believes it? I thought everyone knew everything Witch Weekly prints is total bollocks."

"You can ask her yourself."

"Hm?"

"She's over there," Sirius noted, jerking his head to the left as James whipped around to see Lily walking towards a tree at the edge of the pitch. She casually dropped her bag at the foot of the tree before sitting down, producing a book and stretching her legs out, delicately crossing her ankles in front of her.

"Can you take over for me?" James asked, already dismounting his broom and walking towards her before Sirius had a chance to answer.

"Sure," he replied, "just remember that Moony is over there before you two start shagging on the middle of the pitch."

Ignoring Sirius's last comment, James towed his broom behind him as he walked towards the vision sitting under the tree. She had obviously come to the field straight from work and unfortunately for James, who had been intent on having a serious conversation with her, her pencil skirt and work blouse just reminded him of how ridiculously hot she was.

"On your feet, Evans," he announced, abandoning all attempts at candour as he arrived in front of her.

With that playful smile that drove him spare, Lily looked up, "I'm sorry?"

"You're on the pitch, you have to play," James ruled, gesturing to his broom.

"I'm half an hour early to pick him up," she said frankly, nodding across the field towards Harry, "I didn't show up for practice."

"Rules are rules, Evans," James replied, now holding his hand out to her expectantly.

Her eyes still locked to his, Lily dropped the book and took his hand. The minute that she did, James apparated them to the other end of the field, away from the rest of the group.

"You trying to get me alone, Potter?" Lily asked as her feet hit the soft grass of the field.

"This is where we take the beginners class," he told her, reluctantly letting go of her hand. "For those who've never flown before."

"I have flown before," she batted back as James set his broom to float mid-air.

"More than two feet off the ground?" James grinned, folding his arms. "On you get, Evans," he added, patting the broom.

Watching the broom a bit doubtfully, Lily swept her hair behind her ears.

"It's not going to go crazy once I'm on it, right?"

"It's my broom, Lily," he laughed, "it does what I tell it to."

With more than a little hesitance, Lily grasped the broom handle and swung her leg over the side of it, her heels now scraping along the grass.

"Alright, good," James observed, ignoring all the dirty jokes in his head about how good she looked riding his broom, "although, don't strangle it, Evans. You're not trying to kill it."

"Okay," she breathed, loosening her grip. "Tell me the only reason you have me riding this thing isn't because you wanted to see my skirt ride up around my thighs."

"You trying to turn me into a liar, Miss Evans?" He quipped, grabbing the tip of the broom and pulling it forward, after which the broom floated after him wherever he walked. "Nice skirt by the way."

"Thanks," she replied, brushing her irrepressible fringe out of her eyes, "this isn't so bad."

"It's my broom," he repeated, "I wouldn't put you on it if it wasn't safe."

Their eyes met and he enjoyed the glint of mirth in hers until she laughed aloud, "so, why am I on this thing again?"

"You said you wanted to learn for Harry."

"I do," Lily acknowledged, still basically clinging to the broom as it slowly followed James around the field.

"Well, this is what learning looks like Evans."

"It is?"

"First step, flying. Then we'll let you play with a snitch," he grinned, giving the broom a brief gesture and it rose a few more feet in the air.

"Bloody hell, Potter," she hissed, glaring down at him, and tightening her grip around the handle, "let me know when you're going to do that."

"You're barely off the ground!" He replied jovially, now jogging a little, causing the broom to fly faster, "I thought you were in Gryffindor."

"Didn't think you'd remember that," Lily smirked down at him, to her credit looking more comfortable than she probably felt.

"Oh, you didn't?"

"Well, I was three years below you. So, who'd you ask about me?"

James felt his lips quirk as he gazed up at her, quite enjoying the way the wind was whipping her hair around her face, "Remus filled me in, much as he didn't want to."

"Can this thing read your mind?" Lily called when James started to run backwards and the broom zipped after him.

Sensing she was truly starting to feel uncomfortable, James slowed and gestured the broom back down to his waist.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust exercise," James stated, gesturing for her to move back on the broom, "shift down please."

As Lily did this, James swung his leg over the broom, now sitting on it, facing her.

"Now, give me your hands," he said, opening his own arms out wide so that his hands were as far away from her as possible.

"You're joking, right?" Lily laughed, still clinging to the broom.

"Not at all," James retorted kindly, "that's why it's called a trust exercise. Now, hands. I won't let you fall."

As slowly as she could have possibly moved, Lily let go of the broom and raised her hands slowly into the air to grasp his.

"Oh my god," she breathed out when her hands were fully extended in his.

"It's not fair for you to be this pretty when you're scared."

"I thought you weren't supposed to be flirting with me," she replied, now meeting his eyes again.

"Don't seem to be able to stop," James said, now giving her hands a quick squeeze. "Feeling any better?"

"Not at all," Lily answered, squeezing his hands back.

"I'm not a serial flirt, you know," he added awkwardly, watching closely for her response.

"Smooth, Potter. You tell all your pupils this?"

"Only the ones who think I'm flirting with a different woman every week," James hit back, scrapping the toes of his boots along the ground. "Which I'm not, by the way."

"It wasn't the flirting I was worried about," she smirked, eyes darting to the ground every so often as though worried it would disappear.

"Well, I'm not doing anything else either."

"So, how did you get the broom to move to your signals?" Lily asked, changing the subject easily.

"Working with it for a long time," James told her, "I've been flying with it for 5 years. It knows what I want it to do just by my movements."

"That's impressive," she commented, still watching the ground either side of her. "So, when you want it to go higher you…?"

"Well, I can either gesture, yell it or sometimes just kicking the bristles does it too."

"And if you want it to dive you…?"

As soon as Lily spoke, James's broom moved to plummet straight towards the ground. Thankfully they were only a few feet in the air so James could stop the impending fall with a bit of quick thinking and his toes. Lily, on the other hand, was completely caught off guard and, as the broom pointed ground wards, slid down the shaft and right into James.

"Christ, Lily," he half-laughed as she banged into his chest, securing his arm around her waist to steady them both as her hands landed on his shoulders, the broom still flying but facing downwards at a 45-degree angle, "if you want it to do that, you just tell it to."

"You…did that…on purpose," she breathed raggedly, her nose now millimetres from James's, her legs resting on top of his.

"Oh, did I?

"Yes," she hissed, clinging onto his shoulders. "To get me clinging onto you with my skirt around thighs."

"Not that this isn't an appealing position, but wasn't it you who told the broom to plummet downwards?"

"Well, I didn't say that I didn't want to be in this position," she murmured, their eyes meeting just as their noses inched closer together.

"I hate to break it to you Evans, but I can only hold this position for so long."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that at some point, my legs are going to give out and we'll crash to the ground."

"And at that point, presumably, I'll land on top of you?"

"One can only hope."

With another look and a brief quirk of her lips, Lily nudged her legs against James's. The weight wasn't enough to topple him but he decided to pretend that it was and let his legs go weak and remove all of the weight they were holding.

The broom hit the ground behind them as James fell, his back eventually landing on the slightly wet grass. He had just opened his eyes again in time to see Lily land perfectly over his waist, her legs straddling either side of him.

"Is this what you were thinking of?" She grinned, her hands placed beside his head.

"This is all I've been thinking of," he replied, leaning up to angle his head towards her. James was inches away from her lips when he heard a snap from behind him.

"Excuse me," came Remus's terse voice, causing Lily to sit up quickly. "Sorry to interrupt but we can't have one coach for thirty kids. It's not safe."

"Sorry," Lily breathed, clambering off him awkwardly, and smoothing her skirt down as she stood up. "James was just…"

"I don't need to know what he was just doing," Remus cut in politely. "But I do need a word with him, do you mind?"

"I'll just get back to Harry," she smiled, with a brief glance at James before she apparated away.

"I know, I know," James started, getting to his feet and dusting off his jodhpurs.

"I know you know," Remus replied neatly, "so I'm not going to bother. I'm only going to remind you that Lily believes all that rubbish they print about you every week."

"I told her it wasn't true," James said defensively.

"I'm sure," Remus went on, as they started walking back towards the other kids, "but just in case she thinks you're just saying what she wants to hear, if you really like her, you might want to ask her out before you sleep with her."

"You're saying that like I have no control."

"I haven't seen you exercise any around Lily as of yet," Remus quipped, smirking over to him.

Letting out a long sigh, James watched Remus's annoyingly serene expression and gave in, "you're probably right. I'll ask her out first."

"After the club is over," Remus added firmly, and then – when he saw James's pained expression, "it's three weeks until we're done. Surely you can use some of that control you're so famous for."

James chased him all the way back to the club.

After another week and weekend passed, James was still running, running as fast as his legs would take him. He was rounding corners, barely managing to stay out of the way of the healers who each glared at him and then, after recognising him, smiled and waved.

They should've done an extended session on safety. He'd told Sirius that. He'd suggested it several times but his co-coach was so certain that one was enough. That kids were made of rubber and they didn't need to worry about anyone falling off their broom.

That Monday when he arrived and there had been no sign of Harry, James knew something was wrong.

Ron was able to tell him that Harry had broken his arm after falling off a broom at Ron's house that weekend.

To James's credit, he had enough sense to realise that an arm injury wasn't that serious and he needed to stay and finish the rest of day before he could go and check on Harry.

But as soon as the day was over, he had apparated to St Mungo's and found himself sprinting around the paediatric ward, searching for Harry.

As he reached the end of the ward, his eye caught on something to his left which turned out to be a small hand waving at him. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Harry, sat up in bed with his right arm swaddled beside him. Halfway down the bed, there was a mess of red hair sprawled out onto the sheets where Lily's head lay, fast asleep. Her body was still positioned in a chair beside the bed and James found himself wondering how on each she'd fallen asleep in what looked like a ridiculously uncomfortable position.

"Hi James," Harry whispered as James made his way towards his bed.

"Hey kid," James replied, voice equally quiet, taking a seat beside Harry. "I heard you were in a bit of an accident."

Harry nodded gently, looking down at his arm. "I fell."

"How high were you flying?"

"Only four feet, I promise," he said earnestly, stating the highest height they were allowed to fly at the club.

"That's okay," James reassured him, not wanting Harry to think he was going to scold him, "what made you fall?"

Here, Harry's face turned dark, as he studied his bedsheets intently.

"I'm not going to be mad, Harry," James pressed gently, "I just want to know what I can do to stop it happening again."

"Ron said I couldn't do the Potter pass," Harry said lowly, his forehead scrunched.

"And you tried to?"

Harry nodded curtly, his cheeks colouring a violent red.

"You do know that I was only able to do that move after playing professional standard for a year, Harry," James told him in what he hoped was a kind tone. Knowing what Harry had tried to do he wasn't surprised the kid had fallen. "How far did you get?"

"I did the first part," Harry responded eagerly, "but I couldn't throw the quaffle backwards. That's when I fell."

Taking this in, James decided they definitely needed a refresher safety course and an enlarged section on how to fall safely.

"Okay, well, we'll go over some safety points when you're back with us," James thought out loud, his eyes drifting down the bed to where Lily was, still sleeping soundly, "how's your mum?"

"Worried," Harry replied immediately.

"I'm sure," James said, "you probably gave her quite the fright."

"He did," came a voice from under the mess of red tendrils. "I'm having a very pleasant cup of tea with Mrs Weasley, when out of the window, I see my son falling out of the sky."

She lifted her head and there was mirth in her voice and a twinkle in her eyes though James could tell she was putting on a brave face. "How are you feeling, P?"

"Better," Harry nodded, as she felt his forehead and stroked his hair.

"It's not sore?"

Harry shook his head, smiling up at her.

"You okay if I go talk with James for a minute?"

Again, Harry nodded, "bye, James."

"I'll see you back at the club, kid," James closed, following Lily as she walked out of the ward towards the corridor. "You okay?" He asked, as soon as they were alone and, as he looked down at her, she was so small and pale that he couldn't help but pull her into his arms.

Lily nodded against his chest, "I'm fine," she sniffed, "I'm just overreacting. He'll be out in another day."

"It makes complete sense that you were scared," he said, his own head resting down on her shoulder.

"He said he was trying to do one of your moves."

"It's a pass I do," James told her, now rubbing her back gently as he held her, "it's just flying towards the goals really quickly, passing the quaffle from my right to my left and then throwing is backwards under my arm to another chaser."

"I would be impressed but right now, I just want to kill my son for even trying that," Lily groaned, her forehead still just below his throat.

"I'll make sure I speak to him about dangerous moves when he comes back," James went on, as Lily pulled away from his arms.

"Good," she said, wiping at her eyes a bit. "He was worried he wouldn't be able to play again."

"He'll be fine. They can work wonders in this place. In fact, they should have a wing named after me given the amount of times they've fixed me up."

Lily laughed half-heartedly, smiling weakly up at him, "I should get back to him. I'll see you next week?"

Nodding, James was about to walk away when she moved towards him slowly. Delicately, she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, "thank you for coming to see us."

"Of course," he said, pulling her into another hug.

When she had extricated herself for the second time, James watched her walk away before remembering he had a question.

"Hey Lily," he called after her, causing her to stop and turn back. "Why do you call Harry P?"

"Oh, it's P," she replied after a short laugh, "as in peas, the vegetable. It's because our eyes are pea green."

It was another three days before Harry arrived back at the club but as soon as he did, James started into a day long safety session that even he had to admit was overkill.

It was long and boring and the kids hated every minute of it, perpetually asking when they could get back to playing, but if nothing else, it meant James slept soundly that Friday night when wondering what the kids would all be up to that weekend.

By Saturday afternoon, James was quite glad they didn't have the club on weekends as the torrential downpour outside would've soaked them all through.

He was at club headquarters going over their plans to stage a match for the final event of the summer, much to the delight of the parents – or he was doing that when he wasn't staring out the window at the rain – when he heard several loud knocks at the front door.

Wondering why Remus or Sirius were bothering to knock, James opened the door to find a thoroughly drenched Lily standing on the doorstep.

"Lily," he greeted, moving back to let her in and out of the rain, "what are you doing here?"

It wasn't until she stepped inside that he realised how soaked through she was – the ends of her hair were completely wet and dripping onto the tile floor, there was a gentle smudge of mascara under each eye and her clothes clung to her body – crinkled and laden with the weight of water. It was a mark of how much James now cared about her that his first thought was if anything was wrong. His second was getting her out of those wet clothes.

"Yesterday," she said abruptly, a shiver running through her voice. "Yesterday, the practice…"

"Yeah?"

"Harry said you did an entire day on safety," she finished, breathing a little heavier, her gorgeous eyes never wavering from his.

"Well, yeah," James confirmed, reaching down to catch a drip of water as it fell off her chin. "After what happened to Harry – I wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen to anyone else."

James wasn't sure what but something changed behind Lily's eyes as she watched him – her eyes darkened as her lips parted slowly.

And then suddenly, she was on him, body pressing up against his, drenched top soaking into his t-shirt as her lips pressed to his, her hands thrusting into his hair as James let his back hit the wall.

The way she was kissing him left James in no doubt as to where this was going and, although he was desperately trying to remember Remus's warning about the proper way to do things, between her now see-through top, roaming hands and glorious kisses, James was ready to take her right there in the hall.

"Sorry," she breathed, pulling back from him, although her hands still clung to his shirt. "I know I said I wouldn't…"

"I'm really glad you have," James cut in, leaning down to run his lips along her neck as he finally got as close to her as he had wanted to be for months.

"…bloody hell, Potter," she groaned, pushing up against him when his arms encircled her waist and pulled her in, "you were already irresistible before you started being all paternal…"

"I would apologise," he replied, lifting her quickly and turning them around so he had her against the wall, "but you've been driving me mad for weeks."

He kissed her again, not wanting to be parted from her lips, having fantasied about them since the moment she turned and walked away from him in the park. Kissing her, pressing her right up against the wall, was both the best and stupidest thing he had done. There was no way he was ending this now – it was too good, felt too right.

Lily moaned against his lips and his resolve was gone, "just so you know, this isn't my hallway, Evans," he advised her as her fingertips crept under the hem of his t-shirt and traced his abdomen.

"Do you have a hallway?" she smiled, eyes sparkling up at him, her hands now moving downwards to his belt buckle.

"I have a bed," he told her, "or many, many walls if you'd prefer."

"I swear, if you don`t stop talking and take me there…"

"Trust me, Evans, I will take you there," James quipped, taking a moment to bite down lightly on her shoulder. With his hands now skimming around the damp jeans that clung to her thighs, James lifted her again and apparated them to his apartment.

It wasn't that there was an immediate, instant connection – but for once, James was searching for one, desperately trying to find her eyes every time they disappeared from his view.

He briefly hated her white t-shirt when it obscured her face as she pulled it off and tossed it off of his bed. He had been lying on his back, enjoying the view as she undressed for him, Lily having already gotten rid of all his clothing before they'd even reached the bedroom, but as soon as her face was out of sight, James found himself reaching up to her. Pulling her body back down to his, never wanting to let those lips out of his grasp again, wanting her eyes back on his when she wasn't closing them because of his touch.

He found that everything was different this time: had he always rushed before to get to the 'good part'? This time, he wanted it slowly. He wanted her slowly. He could sense that if he sat back and purely enjoyed himself, Lily would've taken care of them both in no time. She was fast and furious with her kisses, sometimes distracting him to the point where he completely forgot that he didn't want this to be over in ten minutes.

It was when her hand grasped him that James felt a familiar jolt that let him know that he had to do something to switch the focus to her. Removing her hand with his own, James shook his head against her lips, "slower," he said, again finding her eyes as they widened and then smiled.

"Slower?" she questioned, her body still pressed against his chest in a way which forced him to fight against the urge to throw her down and just get to it.

James nodded, "slower," letting his back hit the bed as he slid down the sheets, widening her legs so his shoulders fit through. He dragged his lips up her inner thigh, unable to stop the smirk that appeared when her hips bucked above him.

"That's not slow," she breathed, reaching down to grasp his hand as it curled around her leg.

"Oh no?" His tongue on her thigh produced the same result.

"There's going to be a very fast result if you keep going, Potter."

This time, he replaced his tongue with his teeth. "It's James," he told her after she cried out, her hand gripping his tightly.

"Something wrong with Potter now?"

He got closer, he let his lips tumble down the skin where her thigh met his ultimate goal, enjoying the moans, the breaths, the intermittent cries that emanated from above him.

James allowed himself a final nip to the skin that he'd already reddened and marked with his previous attention, as his fingers gripped the edge of her underwear.

"It's not what I want you to scream."

He'd lost track of time but he'd reached new levels of self-control in the hours she'd spent in his bed. When he'd finally succumbed, James found he couldn't distinguish between her sounds and his own echoing around his bedroom. In the end, after he'd heard her say his names many times, he eventually did snap, roll her onto her back and 'get on with it'. Not that Lily seemed displeased with this, letting out a relieved "thank God" the minute he did so.

Afterwards, he spent at least ten minutes with his head wedged in between her neck and her shoulder, breathing heavily, body heaving as he enjoyed the feeling of her sweat-soaked body doing the same underneath him.

He then summoned the energy to move off of her, immediately missing the feeling of her near him.

Given that sense of loss, he really should've stopped her from getting out of his bed. But Lily's entirely naked body, and a chance to brazenly gaze at her, distracted him from pulling her back to into his arms.

"Stop ogling me, Potter," she said lightly as she walked around his room, finding various pieces of her clothing as she went.

"Never," he replied, propping up his pillow to allow himself a better view. "You should come back to bed," he advised, trying to catch her eyes, frustratingly unable to succeed in the way he was able to 15 minutes ago.

"I have to get Harry."

"Where is he, anyways?"

"At Molly's," Lily said, briefly distracting him when she replaced her bra, "I asked her to mind him while I…"

"Came here?" James supplied helpfully, finally getting her to meet his eye, very much enjoying his own hilarity.

"Yes," she responded lightly, her eyes twinkling, "while I came here."

"Bring him here," James suggested, now fully sitting up, finding incredible enjoyment in the mundane sight of her fixing her hair in his mirror.

She caught his eye again, although this time there was a sceptical look in her gaze.

"I'm serious," James pressed, giving up on bringing her back to bed and jumping up himself. "Bring him here – I have tonnes of snitches he could play with."

"That wouldn't be confusing for him at all," Lily scoffed, almost harshly.

"Why would it be confusing?"

Seeming to ignore his question, Lily – now fully dressed – made her way over to James and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips. "I have to get back," she whispered gently, looking up at him, "I had fun today. And I promise, I won't make this awkward."

"Lily, I want to see you again," James tried, wondering how it was that someone he had had in his arms three minutes ago suddenly felt like they were slipping away.

"You will see me again," she said practically, "I'm coming to the match on Friday."

She had given him a final smile and apparated out of his bedroom before James had the time to protest.

"You have no one to blame but yourself, you know," were Sirius's helpful words when James advised him of the problem on Monday, "Remus said this would happen. You should've asked her out first."

"I've already told you, you didn't..."

"I know, I know," Sirius cut in mechanically, leaning forward on his broom to watch one of his kids zoom further down the pitch, "her hair, her eyes, the stupid see-through top, I get it. She showed up needing out of her wet clothes and you offered to tear them off for her. The problem is, that's exactly what she thought you would do. And would do if any other girl had shown up in that state."

"I think I'm going to sue Witch Weekly for defamation," James said grouchily, throwing a quaffle from one hand to the other.

James meditated on this idea for the next three days instead of actually dealing with his problems. To his own credit, he managed not to pay Harry any undue attention by looking for clues as to what Lily was doing or thinking and instead trained him and the rest of the club as he had any other week. He also managed not to go rifling through Remus's records for her address and all in all, was impressed by his own sanity in the situation, given how far gone he was on this girl.

It smarted for at least a day that she wasn't quite as hung up as he was but by Tuesday evening he'd resolved to change that. He knew she liked him – she just didn't think he was serious about her, or Harry. But he was. And he would show her that.

The final day of the club came around slowly but by the time it did, James was starting to feel a little misty-eyed over their summer project and its success. All of the players had progressed far beyond James's expectations and he now had no doubt that by the time these kids reached Hogwarts, the house teams would no longer be dominated by 'purebloods'.

Between himself, Remus and Sirius, they had all decided to refer both Harry and Ginny to Dave for review during the match. Ginny had propelled her way to joint top of the pack through a combination of sheer hard work and natural talent. She didn't have as much natural talent as Harry but she had more drive and a better work ethic which had impressed James enough to tell Dave about both the kids.

In the final match, they mixed both James and Sirius's kids and split them into two teams to play each other. All of the parents were invited and James invited as many team scouts and fellow teammates as he could as well as a few of the teachers from Hogwarts. Despite the extensive guestlist, there was only really one person that he cared about showing up.

His eyes were immediately drawn to her the minute she appeared in the park. Radiant in a blue sundress, the sight of her gave him some hope. She always looked beautiful, but maybe – just maybe – if she turned up to the park looking like that, it was because she knew he'd be there.

He waited a respectable amount of time into the match before making his way over to Lily as casually as he could. She watched the game standing beside Molly, both of them clapping and shouting with every moment of the game. James enjoyed the sight of her alight with happiness as she watched Harry's every move. He was half-worried that she would freeze up when she saw him but it seemed even the strange way they had left things couldn't dim her enjoyment of the game.

"He's so good!" she whispered excitedly as James reached her.

"I know," James replied, feeling an odd sense of pride that was nothing to do with Lily but randomly focused on the difference they might have made. "Although, I thought you didn't know anything about quidditch."

"I know enough to know my son is amazing!" Lily shot back happily, elbowing Molly when Harry rolled over to dodge a miniature bludger.

They watched the next ten minutes of the match together, with James answering all the questions Lily had about Harry's moves and pointing out any particularly difficult manoeuvres he had learnt over the course of the summer. After fifteen minutes, Sirius blew the whistle to allow the kids a break and to swap out some of the players. After Molly ran to the side of pitch to congratulate Ginny and tend to Fred, who had picked up an injury, James was finally alone with Lily.

"Thank you," Lily announced, turning to him with a magnificent smile, "thank you for doing this. This was exactly what he needed."

"It was my pleasure," he told her honestly, "this has been the best summer I've had in a long time."

At his last sentence, her face told him she had understood what he meant. The light blush that came upon her cheeks gratifying to him in a million ways.

"If you're trying not to lead me on, you're officially terrible at it," Lily managed jerkily, looking across the pitch to Harry.

"I don't know how many ways to say this, Evans," James started, taking her arm so she turned towards him, "all of the stuff in the press is rubbish. Complete and utter rubbish. You've met me," he continued, lowering his voice as he moved in closer, "you've talked to me, you've spent a day listening to me call out your name. Do you really believe I'm the person they say I am?"

Lily watched him closely with her eyes wide and searching. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes which eventually gave out to a softness that he recognised from the hospital. "No," she replied, equally quiet, glancing around a few times to make sure no one was listening, "but you could be. And if you're going to do all this just to have me underneath you again, I'm saying that you don't have to."

James took a deep breath, "Lily, this entire summer there has only been one woman, one person, one redhead that has driven me spare with the way she looks at me. I should've told you this before and I'm sorry if what happened made you think I just wanted one thing. I am crazy about you, Lily," he continued, running his hand down her arm so it now grasped her hand, "let me take you out, let me make you dinner, let me chase you and Harry around the garden all evening and I'll spend the entire time showing you that it's only you."

The searching look came back into her eyes, only this time, he could see she believed him.

With a small smile, she gripped his hand, his heart giving a thump when their fingers interlinked, "you know I have a kid, James."

"Somehow, I noticed that," he quipped back, grinning when Lily rolled her eyes.

"This isn't that simple," she persisted, still coming closer to him, smile growing with every word, "everything is more complicated."

"Oi, Harry!" James yelled across the pitch, taking the initiative whilst he was ahead and summoning Harry from the bench. The kid made his way to them quickly and when he arrived, James gently let go of Lily's hand and knelt down to the boy's eye level, ignoring the damp grass that greeted his knees.

"Yeah?" Harry asked eagerly, throwing his eyes between James and Lily.

"How would you feel about me taking your mum out on a date?"

"Good because she fancies you," Harry replied matter-of-factly, causing both James and Lily to laugh.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," James said, catching Lily's eye, "so, it would be okay if I was around more often?"

Harry considered this for a moment.

"Could we play quidditch?"

James nodded, "yeah."

"And could I come to all your matches?"

Again, James nodded.

"Then that's fine," Harry ruled, smiling briefly and James before turning to his mum, "I'm going back to the pitch now. Don't miss my flying 'cause you're kissing."

James smiled as he watched Harry run back to his teammates, raising himself up to his full height to stand with Lily again.

"So, apparently you fancy me," he noted, putting his arm around Lily's waist and pulling her into him, happy when she came easily.

"I don't know what gave you that impression," she replied evenly, nudging her nose against his, staring up at him with that look that made him fall into her eyes all over again, "I think you're an adequately talented quidditch player with some nice abs."

James would've thought of a witty reply, but he was too busy kissing her to care.

"Mum! You're missing it!"