Based on the appearance of the magical ceiling in the Great Hall, the sky outside is almost completely gray. The overcast caused by angry, heavy clouds makes it look dark, as if it is closer to evening than morning. The torches flare to keep the hall from looking like a dungeon while Lily casts a glance to the ominously churning clouds above her.

The ceiling doesn't bode well for good Quidditch weather.

Pulling her hood over her hair and huddling under a storm isn't the most comfortable way to spend a Saturday morning in November. The ceiling can't tell her the temperature, but Lily doubts it's anywhere close to balmy or pleasant.

Like the majority of the school, however, Lily is willing to risk it and hope for a quick game.

This early in the season, it's hard to tell what bearing the result of the match will have on Slytherin's chances for the Cup. Still, no one wants to miss the chance to get a look at this year's teams and see what they'll be up against in a few months. Every point counts when it comes to deciding the final.

Plus, it's one of the few games left, since this is her last year of school Quidditch. She can't let something like the wet weather of Scotland keep her from seeing Gryffindor and Hufflepuff play for her last time as a student.

Because, of course, the plays and general love of sport are the only reasons why she's invested in a game that doesn't involve her house's team.

The rain means no one is moving quickly this morning, so Lily doesn't feel any need to rush. She reaches for another piece of toast while trying to keep her eyes on the textbook propped up by her pumpkin juice. She can justify devoting her Saturday morning to Quidditch, she tells herself, if she manages to fit a little studying in beforehand. N.E.W.T.s don't care that her Quidditch-watching days are numbered.

"Are you going to the game?"

She nearly knocks over her mug at the sound of a familiar voice.

Luckily, he quickly grabs her book and snaps it shut to save it from a juice-related emergency. A little guiltily, Severus holds the book out to her. "Didn't realize you were studying. I'm…" He moves his hand with the book toward her, as if she's taken a beat longer than he thought she would to grab it. "I didn't realize."

"It's fine," Lily replies, taking the book from him. "Why wouldn't I go to the game?"

She knows she sounds defensive. Ever since she realized what he says behind her back, she hasn't been able to feel at ease around him. Part of her always knew it, judging by the company he keeps, but it still hurts. It's like she's waiting for the moment where the Severus he is around her and the Severus he is without her converge.

Not that she's really explained to him why she can't be comfortable in their friendship anymore. Shouldn't he know that something is wrong without her spelling it out for him?

Severus shrugs and takes the seat across from her without an invitation. "What do you think of Hufflepuff's chances?"

Lily eyes him carefully as he loads his own plate. Slowly, she lowers the book and puts it on the bench by her side. She makes a conscious effort to relax her shoulders and return to her meal. It's breakfast, not a battlefield.

"I don't know who they got to replace Diggory," she says, picking up her knife and spreading raspberry jam on her toast. "Although unless it's someone absolutely incredible, I think they'll have to get lucky. Gryffindor's roster is solid."

Uncharacteristically, Severus nods and accepts this without comment. He pours himself some pumpkin juice and spoons an egg onto his plate. The moment sits heavily, and Lily isn't sure what she's supposed to say to keep their conversation going.

It used to be so easy to talk to him. From their spot under the trees, they could daydream about Hogwarts. They whittled away hours talking about getting sorted into the same house and doing magic. She had a million questions and thought he knew all the answers.

Now, every exchange is loaded with mines that she has to cross slowly to avoid. If asked, she would still call them friends, but it doesn't match the images she has in her head of their friendship. Anymore, she doesn't know what will set him off on a tirade or trigger the kinds of comments she's heard when he doesn't think she's listening.

Lily can't ignore the increase in reported disappearances when she opens the Daily Prophet. She can't ignore the whispers of a name, especially among the members of her house. Severus is her friend, but she suspects that he's becoming more likely to sway toward a side she could never back. Especially once they leave school, everyone has a choice to make.

His friends appear, by all means, to be ready and willing to join the Death Eaters.

The thought floods her mind with images from the paper. Snakes winding their way through green floating skulls. Destroyed buildings and structures that look like accidents to muggle eyes but carry all the traces of magic. Dirty words thrown at students who have backgrounds that match hers.

But he would never do that, she tells herself. An ever-shrinking part of her says he uses those words because of the pressure to fit in. He can't really believe them. He makes statements in front of others, but they don't know the Severus she knows. They don't know the boy who explained how an owl would surprise her one morning and change her life.

He can't hate like he claims and also want to be her friend, can he?

When he's like this, Lily thinks, it might be the time to bring it up. To explain why she gets so cold and wants to be left alone. To explain why she feels like her best friend is disappearing and being replaced by someone she doesn't recognize.

To ask him how he thinks it's acceptable to use that word when her blood matches it.

Any words she can think of are awkward and forced, so they dissolve on her tongue. If she has time to think about them, maybe the result will be better. Maybe she can save this calm moment and find a better time to say what's on her mind.

She has to have a plan before talking to Severus about this. If not, it will end like all of their fights. She'll be angry. He'll be angry. They'll fight. A few days later, they'll come back, but nothing will be solved.

She doesn't know the answer or if she can stop him from being what she fears.

"It should be a good game," Lily offers. "As long as the rain holds off."

Severus casts a glance at the ceiling. She swears that the corner of his mouth turns up in the suggestion of a smile. "We'll have to hope for an early catch, I think."

They eat the rest of their meal in silence, but it isn't uncomfortable. It's more like breakfasts they used to have, when they were both caught up in their own thoughts. They have nearly every class together and spend time in the common room, so every second doesn't need to be filled with meaningful conversation.

Being able to sit in silence without stewing is a good sign for them.

"Ready?" he asks, pushing his empty plate away from him. Groups of students from all of the tables start to make their way out of the Great Hall. Everyone is still moving slowly because of the weather, but they're bundling up for the trek to the pitch. Happy murmuring fills the hall with suggestions about what will happen and who might win.

Once her breakfast is done, she nods and stands. As they walk toward the doors, Lily tucks her hair under her hood and exits the castle with everyone else. She lets the natural flow of the crowd guide her onto the grounds and to their side of the stadium to find a seat.

A few of the other seventh year Slytherins cluster together over a section of three benches. They're all wearing small hints of their house - an emerald pin fastening the top of a robe, a green and silver scarf wrapped over a chin to avoid the chill - and not outwardly rooting for a particular side in this battle.

Thankfully, she notes as she sits among them, they chatter about nothing. Their conversation is about exams and essays rather than the topics that make Lily sit on the edge of her seat, so she doesn't have to bite her tongue against about half of what she really wants to say. For now, they can be normal teenagers who have normal worries like getting a poor mark.

The air is thick, although it holds off for the moment, threatening a downpour at any moment.

"Did you hear about Potter and Black?" Cornelia Burke whispers by her ear, pulling Lily from thoughts about how she's going to manage to finish her Transfiguration essay.

"What about them?"

"They got caught last night by Filch - in a broom cupboard - after curfew." Cornelia smirks like a cat playing with her latest toy. "Three guesses what they were doing."

Cornelia loves spreading rumors about who is shagging who, but Lily doesn't usually pay them any mind. It's their own business.

This one, however, has the glimmer of truth in it, and hits closer to home than she wants to admit, even to herself. Lily has seen how close Sirius and Jamie are - it's hard to find one without the other.

She doesn't know why, but her stomach twists at the thought of them doing what teenagers usually do in private spaces.

"I heard they got about a week's detention," Cornelia continues. "Loads of people are talking about it. I wonder if she'll still be playing today."

Lily focuses on that bit of what she said. It's better than the scenarios her head creates to put Potter and Black in the same closed broom closet late at night. "Potter has to play," Lily answers.

Cornelia's forehead creases like Lily said something she doesn't understand. "You mean she'll manage to get out of it for the game? You're probably right, Evans. Potter has always been one of Dumbledore's favorites."

Both teams take to the field, half in bright yellow and the other half in scarlet. Even from this height, Potter's dark hair stands out when she reaches over to shake hands with the Hufflepuff captain. Lily lets out a breath, as if Jamie's presence dismisses Cornelia's implication.

Not that it would matter to her, even if it was true.

All of the players kick off from the ground. The game starts with a quick Gryffindor possession. Potter throws the quaffle to her teammate and cuts across the pitch to get in better position. Her hair, pulled into a messy ponytail and already escaping from the tie, flies behind her as she gathers speed.

In the air, doing what Lily would have called impossible ten years ago, Jamie is where she is meant to be. She's in control and excelling, able to fly circles around half of the players on the pitch, including her own team. She concentrates on her own plays and yells commands to the rest of her team, being a player and captain in the same breath.

One of the Gryffindor chasers sinks a goal into the far right hoop, barely making it past the hands of the Hufflepuff keeper. Lily can hear Potter's whoop of delight from her seat.

Only a few minutes in, Lily realizes that she doesn't actually remember anything that anyone around her has said - or if they said anything at all - since Potter took the field. She glances at her housemates surrounding her, searching for an anchor of conversation to grasp before accusations start.

Cornelia has moved on. She's deep in discussion with Avery, huddled off a little way from the rest of their group and hardly paying attention to the game. Lily has seen them snogging in the corner of the common room where they don't think anyone can see too many times. Getting in the middle of that, she thinks, might actually be worse than an accusation of being distracted by a particular player on the field.

Severus catches her eye, and she pointedly looks away, watching the Hufflepuff chasers start a new formation toward the hoops. He's likely already suspicious after she ditched him at the last game to watch with Potter and her friends, so she can't give him any room for misinterpretation. If he thinks she was distracted by a Gryffindor, she'll never hear the end of it.

A loud crack crashes through the sky and echoes between the stands of the Quidditch Pitch. On the horizon, a fork of lightning cuts through the clouds.

Invigorated by the weather-driven time crunch, the teams fly more furiously. The seekers weave loops across the field, desperate to find the ticket to winning the game quickly and going inside before they're all soaked.

"Watch out!" Jamie yells, jerking her broom to a stop. She points to her own seeker, bent over his broom and stretching his arm as far as it will go. The Hufflepuff seeker tries to turn, but a whizzing bludger that narrowly misses her head makes her draw back, losing precious seconds. The distance between a small glimmer of gold and the Gryffindor seeker's outstretched hand shrinks as the sky starts to drop rain.

Lily is out of her seat and screaming along with the other side of the stands before she's fully aware of what she's doing.

Immediately, Cornelia pulls sharply on her robe to force her back into her seat. "What are you doing?" she hisses, darting a quick glance at Avery.

Lily blinks. "It was an exciting play," she offers as explanation.

"For Gryffindor."

"It's Quidditch, Burke," Lily says over her stuttering heart. Her eyes still haven't left the pitch. "They aren't even playing us. It isn't a big deal."

"Evans, it's -"

"Shouldn't we get inside?" Lily says, attempting to change the subject entirely. She shakes off Cornelia's hand and tucks the ends of her hair into her robes. Her hands are about to shake, but she moves slowly to stop them. "It's already started to rain, and I can't stand wet socks."

Cornelia looks at her in shock for a beat before dropping her arm and scoffing. "Evans is right. Let's go in before this mess completely ruins my hair." She grabs Avery's hand and tugs him after her, causing Mulciber and Severus to follow.

The rain provides a perfect opportunity, so she takes it. Pulling her hood over her head, Lily slips away from her housemates to blend in with the crowd. She drifts among the other students until she's by the entrance to the pitch.

The Hufflepuff team stays by the sidelines only long enough to shake hands and duck into their dry locker room. The Gryffindors, on the other hand, shake out their hair and tilt their heads back, not letting the rain dampen their spirits. If anything, it fuels them.

Without questioning herself, Lily jogs over to the assembled players and fans. Everyone is chattering happily, so it isn't difficult to find a place in the crowd. She passes through easily since not that many people want to break their victorious mood by talking to someone wearing green.

When she reaches her destination, Lily taps Jamie on the shoulder to get her attention, pulse thudding in her ears. "Good game," she offers when the other girl turns. Lily hugs her arms around her middle in an attempt to stay warm. "Hope you don't mind that I stopped by."

Jamie grins and scrubs a hand through her hair, still bright after a victory. "Of course not." Jamie shifts her weight between her feet, some of her swagger from the win retreating. "Actually, Evans, I wanted to talk to you. To know if you wanted to, er…" Absentmindedly, she twirls some hair around her finger. "Sirius is going to sneak some booze in for a party in our common room. To celebrate. If you wanted, I mean, you could come, maybe?"

Gryffindor courage must be contagious. Lily seems to have caught some of it, causing her to leave her housemates and side of the stands in the first place. One of their Quidditch victories must throw it into the air, because the courage even burns in the stomach of a member of Salazar's house.

It peaks again at Jamie's invitation. Lily's heart speeds up, but she forces her voice to sound natural. "Yeah," she says. "I think I'd like to go."

"Brilliant," Jamie answers, the grin back on her face. "The password's 'unicorn.'"

Lily never has many reasons to stress over what to wear to an event. Unlike the girls who share her dormitory, she wasn't raised on a parade of teas and social galas. Her childhood was spent in overalls and shorts under her dresses because she liked jumping from the highest arc of the swing so much.

When she became old enough to care about what people thought of her outfits, most of her time was spent in uniforms that were just tidy enough to look like she put some effort into them. Weekends would be for jeans and sweaters, muggle clothes bought by her mother, but her housemates didn't always approve of that.

Instead, she can often default to what is easy to wear. Uniform for school, robes for most other days, and anything she owns in rich emerald for a Quidditch match. She has a few sweaters and dresses usually folded in the bottom of her trunk, and that's what now covers her bed and portion of the dormitory. She's gone through nearly every piece of clothing in her trunk looking for the perfect thing to wear to the Gryffindor party.

Nothing she owns is right for this occasion.

Not that this is an occasion, really. It's a party, where most of the attendees will be thinking more about what they will drink than what they will wear. No one is going to care what she's wearing or what she does with her hair or…

Lily turns in front of the mirror, scrutinizing the dress she hasn't worn for months from every angle. She faces the cursed surface again, leaning forward to investigate the spot on her chin that she's sure wasn't there a few minutes ago.

There's nothing for it. Every second in front of the mirror is making her feel worse. She needs to go before Jamie does something stupid, like thinking she doesn't want to be there.

It's the one place she does want to be tonight.

She doesn't make it far into the common room before Cornelia calls to her. She sits by the fire, Avery's head in her lap while she brushes his hair across his forehead absently. "Where are you headed?" The question and her head tilt are innocent enough, but everything is a game to Cornelia. Lily can't let her control all the moves.

"Meeting up with some friends."

"Gryffindors again?" Avery asks, scowling.

Lily shrugs, feigning indifference. "Might be a few there."

Cornelia studies her. She blinks slowly, like she's taking pictures in her mind to store and look back on with fresh eyes. "Don't stay out too late," she says finally, resuming her stroking of Avery's hair. "We can't lose points and let those Gryffindors win."

"Of course not," Lily answers, waving away the concern. She turns to the exit and doesn't hesitate.

Surprisingly, she makes it across the castle and into Gryffindor tower without any interruptions. She doesn't even have to dodge Peeves or make up an excuse to another housemate. Soon enough, Lily approaches a portrait of a woman in a pink dress who serves as the guard of the Gryffindor common room.

"Unicorn."

The lady looks up from her wine glass and slowly looks at Lily over her frame from head to toe. "You're new," she notes, though she swings forward to grant Lily passage.

Lily steps into the common room, glad that she abandoned robes and has one less thing to potentially trip over in her path. It's just what she hoped for - punch bowls and bottles on the table, armchairs with people slung casually over them, and a pleasant hum of a variety of conversation. The sounds of dozens of people talking and having fun instead of the quiet judgement she left in her own common room.

Slipping into the crowd, Lily is happy to blend in for the moment. She ladles a healthy dose of punch into an empty cup and takes a long drink, only slightly wincing at the alcohol that is barely cut with fruity flavor. The warmth from the drink starts at her chest and spreads out, inviting her to take another drink.

They believe in strong drinks in Gryffindor.

She finishes the cup in a few swallows, helping herself to more. The point is to have fun, Lily tells herself, so a few drinks before she tries to talk to anyone else can't hurt.

"Evans!"

Lily lowers her cup and looks toward the boy calling her name from across the room, proud of herself for not making a face when the faint buzz goes straight to her head. It's not enough to actually be tipsy, but she can chase the imitation of that feeling for now.

"Sirius!" she answers enthusiastically. His name softened by the drink and her desire to give herself fully to this night.

Sirius, clearly, has had a few drinks of his own. More than she has, Lily is sure, since he looks less stable than she can even pretend to feel. He waves to a few people as he walks toward her but doesn't deviate from his mission.

"You came!" he announces, tapping the side of his cup against hers and taking a long drink. Lily copies him. "Did Prongs finally suck it up and invite you?"

"After the game, she asked if I wanted to come. It sounded fun, so..." Lily spreads her arms wide, gesturing to the party happening around them. "Here I am!"

"Here you are," Sirius says, grinning and taking another drink. "Bet Prongs is happy."

"Jamie? I dunno. I haven't found her yet." Lily shrugs like Potter's absence doesn't matter to her. "I guess she offered so I could have a good time."

He snorts into his cup. "That's all."

Lily shrugs, wondering if the alcohol that makes her feel fuzzy and light is making her miss something in Sirius' words. "What d'you mean?"

"You're even denser than Prongs. She invited you because she likes you, Evans."

"I guess we're friends," Lily answers, brows knitting together as she pushes her hair out of her face. "It's been nice spending a little time with you lot, anyway. Even if you," she pauses to poke his chest a little forcefully, "hate me because I'm a Slytherin."

"I don't hate you, Evans," Sirius admits, shaking his head. Perhaps the booze makes him less guarded, but Lily will take a win where she can get one. "Just think you're a bit of an idiot. Prongs wanted you here because she fancies you, Evans."

"You're ridiculous," Lily answers automatically, cheeks warming without permission. She hides behind her cup. "Aren't you two…?"

Sirius looks incredulously at her. Slowly, the muscles in his face relax and then he actually laughs, a bark-like sound that is loud enough to catch the attention of a few people.

"You don't actually believe that nonsense, do you?" He waves the onlookers away and swipes a hand across his face. "I thought you were smarter than that, Evans. Prongs and I have never… you know. Never. It'd be like snogging my sister."

Her heart skips hopefully, and that's hard to deny - even to herself. Still, Lily tries her best to ignore it.

"Isn't your family into that sort of thing? Snogging cousins?" Lily hopes an attempt at a joke will stop him from noticing the way her hand shakes and her cheeks are probably starting to match her hair. She sits the cup down but doesn't take her hand off of it, seeing if the solid surface will steady her.

"Maybe," he says, smirking like he knows her deepest secrets. He tips back his cup and pauses long enough to make her lean forward to hear. "But there's also the obstacle of her being completely in love with you since fifth year."

All of the chatter around Lily transforms into incomprehensible buzzing.

"What?"

Her brain tells her mouth to say it, but she can't actually hear. She's not sure if she actually managed to say anything at all.

The buzzing drowns out Sirius' response, but his mouth moves in the right shape to confirm what he said.

"You all right?" he asks, breaking through the static and shaking her arm.

Lily nods. She drains the last few swallows in her cup and sets it down. Her mind is still furiously buzzing, but she can't sit in one place while it's all happening. "Where is she?"

Sirius points to one of the staircases toward the back of the common room.

"Thanks," Lily says quietly, steadying herself with a hand on the back of one of the couches while she walks there. It could be the alcohol or the new information, but her knees threaten to buckle beneath her. She doesn't know exactly what she plans to say or do, but she can't continue being a guest - Jamie's guest - without doing something.

Lily climbs the stairs slowly, pausing at each door to read what the little signs say. The world is still tilting underneath her, so she holds onto the railing, but she can tell that Sirius directed her to the girls' side of the dormitory. The signs label which group of girls live behind each door, but she doesn't get that far.

On one of the stairs by the seventh years' door, Jamie sits with a bottle held loosely in one hand, balancing it on her knee. She looks up when a stair creaks under Lily's foot, casting her a lopsided grin. "All right, Evans?"

"Budge over, Potter." Lily stops on the stair that puts them nearly at eye level while Jamie is sitting down. "Room for one more?"

"Of course," Jamie replies, nodding her head and holding her almost empty bottle up in a toast. Lily plucks the bottle from her hand, takes a swing, and gives it back. With a nudge as prompting, Jamie moves over to make room, and Lily sits on the stair above her.

"We missed you down there. Had to figure out where you ran off to."

"No need to worry. I like the view from up here." Lily gives her a skeptical look, since the happy crowd in the common room is hidden by stone walls, so Jamie continues her explanation. "I know you can't see everyone from up here, but can't you hear them? I dunno. It's nice to sit back and know they're all having a good time." Lily can't deny that she looks at ease up here, turning the bottle between her fingers and listening to a satisfied squeal and laughter go through the party downstairs. "I was going to come back down in a minute."

The party noise goes back down to a bustling hum. In the few beats of silence between them - but not downstairs - Lily can see that she has a point. When she pulls herself away from the middle of everything and isn't worried about accidentally spilling firewhiskey or snagging the sleeve of her sweater, she can be content, knowing that other people are having fun too.

"We can stay up here for a bit." Lily catches the ends of Jamie's hair and plays with them, twisting the strands around her finger and letting go to see if the tighter curl will hold. "I wanted to ask you about something."

Jamie glances up at her briefly but looks back at her drink without making a move to stop her. She shifts, giving Lily better access to her hair. "Okay."

Lily divides part of her hair into sections and braids it loosely, like they're two girls at a slumber party. She sweeps some hair, still damp from the shower she must have taken after the match, off her neck and twists it into the messy braid.

"Sirius told me a secret," she admits, pinching the end of the braid before running her fingers through it to take out the plait. "Can you tell me if it's true?"

"Sure," Jamie answers with a hum. Nearly every girl with long hair knows there is something soothing about someone playing with that hair. "What is it?"

"Sirius says you like me."

Despite the consistent noise from downstairs, Lily almost convinces herself that there is actual silence following her words.

Slowly, Jamie tilts her head to the side and turns toward the next highest stair, squinting at Lily like she can't see properly through her glasses. Jamie visibly swallows, but her voice stays steady. "'Course I like you, Evans. I invited you to this party, you know, and -"

"No," Lily interrupts, dropping her hair. She puts a hand on Jamie's arm and leans in, spurred on by a mix of alcohol and her own fluttering heart. "He says you like me like me."

With their faces close together, Jamie laughs a little uneasily. "Are we thirteen again?"

"You aren't answering the question," Lily pouts.

"I…" Jamie's eyes search hers, voice trailing off when her mouth stays open. She stops, locking their gazes, and Lily wonders if Jamie can see her pulse jumping under her jaw. "Yeah. Sirius is right. I do." The confession only sits for a moment before Jamie starts talking again. "But, Lily, it's okay if you don't -"

"Good."

Lily is happy to cut her off, sure that her new smile is cracking her cheeks and making her look strange. Somehow, she doesn't particularly care. That's the nice thing about liquid courage, she decides. The nice thing about a few drinks kicking out the thoughts that run circles inside her head. She doesn't waste time letting Jamie work herself up or think of a hundred ways to hide what she's thinking.

"Good?"

"Good," Lily confirms. "I was thinking about kissing you, but I wanted to know if -"

Jamie cuts her off this time.

Her hand cups Lily's cheek and angles her face to press her lips against hers. For the first time since Lily finished her second drink, the world is steady. Jamie's fingers are warm and gentle against her skin, clearing her head. The kiss is a whispered secret, passed between them and buried in their hearts.

Blinking slowly like she's waking from a dream, Jamie starts to pull away. Lily lifts a hand to her cheek to put over Jamie's and ensure that she doesn't move it away.

The stars have to be obvious in her eyes, and she wants Jamie to pay attention. To know that although she isn't sure about many things - isn't sure if there will be a place for her in the world outside of school, isn't sure if she fits into her house, isn't sure of how much of what the Daily Prophet tells them every morning is lies - but she's sure about this. Sure about kissing Jamie and wanting more.

Lily moves forward to meet her. The hand that innocently played with the ends of Jamie's hair tangles in her messy half-curls, pulling their bodies closer together. Jamie catches on quickly, putting her free hand on the stair beside Lily to lift herself so they more easily meet.

She smiles against her mouth and throws an arm around her shoulders, wanting to know what it feels like at each place where their bodies touch. Jamie moves slowly at first, requesting permission with her hands and tongue that Lily grants without hesitation. She kisses her again and again, feeling more pleasantly happy than any drink could do.

With a content sigh, Lily breaks the kiss, her forehead touching Jamie's. There aren't actual fireworks or a sweeping musical theme like there are in the movies, but she couldn't tell that by Jamie's expression. It takes her a long time to open her eyes, but when she does, a spark goes down Lily's spine.

Jamie moves her thumb from her cheek to trace Lily's lips, both of them taking time to catch their breath and watch each other. "That was…"

"Yeah," Lily whispers, treating the quiet like it's a fragile thing that can break. She runs her fingers through Jamie's hair, letting the strands brush against her palm. "A little fast for a first date, I guess."

"I don't mind," Jamie replies, speaking just as softly.

Jamie's thumb moves to trace the way the corners of Lily's mouth move into another smile. "Neither do I," Lily admits. Reluctantly, she untangles her fingers to smooth a hand over Jamie's hair, trying to tame the damage she created. "Though we should probably get back to your party. Your friends might notice that we're gone."

She lets out an exaggerated groan, like separating is the worst thing that could happen to them, but Jamie smiles through it. "You're probably right." Sitting up, she releases Lily, who sways with the loss of contact. Before Jamie stands, she pauses and leans forward to touch Lily's kiss-swollen lips with a fingertip. "To be continued?"

"To be continued," Lily confirms, slipping Jamie's hand into hers and pulling her to standing. Once they're both up, she lets go of her hand and turns Jamie toward the bottom of the staircase. "Back to your adoring public, you big Quidditch hero."