Hogsmeade

In the Gryffindor common room sat half of Gryffindor, all of whom were annoyed that Slytherin had won, especially irritated by Turvulus Malfoy's catching of the Snitch.

"Ravenclaw were awful," said James. "They didn't stand a chance. Slytherin didn't even need to cheat. This means Ravenclaw have lost all their games. It also means we need to beat Hufflepuff, or our best outcome is a tie against Slytherin, unless they lose to Hufflepuff as well. But, if that happens and we still win against Slytherin, we'll tie with Hufflepuff."

"So we basically need to beat Hufflepuff and Slytherin in order to win," finished Geoff. "Right. Who's up for extra practice?"

McMillan stood up. "Good idea, Geoff. Gryffindor team!"

James, Amy, Declan, Albus and Anora all groaned, shooting glares at Geoff.

"Can't, Mills," said Anora, who was sitting with two other sixth-years. "I'm going out to Hogsmeade with Elliot."

"Mills?" echoed McMillan. "It's McMillan!"

"Sorry," she said, pouting. "It's our anniversary. Two months. He's already booked us a reservation at Madame Puddifoot's."

"Go, then," snarled McMillan. She walked away, chatting to her two friends. "And the rest of you? Do you have reservations at Madame Puddifoot's? James? I know you and Amy are going out. Do you want some alone time? Do you want to follow McLaggen out the door?"

"Come on, Dan," said James. "Don't be like that. Besides, we're not the Puddifoot's type."

He sighed. "Sorry, sorry. It's just that bloody Anora thinks she's–"

"Then kick her off!" protested Declan. "She's not even that good, anyway!"

"She's better than the ones who didn't get in," he said. "And our next match is in a month! I don't know if that's enough time to…"

"What about that Mildred Wilkins girl?" asked Declan. "She was all right."

"Yeah," agreed Albus. "And Mildred really wasn't too bad."

McMillan exhaled. "Fine, I'll think about it. But for now, is anyone up for extra practice?"

"I am!" said Geoff willingly.

Albus nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, but I'll have to tell Louie not to wait for me."

James, Declan, and Amy exchanged glances.

"We have plans," said Declan. "Sorry, Dan, but you know this is pretty late notice. We're going to Hogsmeade. We might meet up with David – come on, you know David. David Lee, Ravenclaw? Yeah, him – and some other Ravenclaws, as well. Tell 'em the match wasn't too bad."

McMillan looked defeated.

"Don't look so down, Mills," teased James.

McMillan let out a strangled noise. "Anora McLaggen is, of right now, kicked off the team."

"Just for that?" asked Albus.

"Tell Wilkins she's on," said McMillan, ignoring him. "Geoff and I will meet the two of you for practice outside in ten minutes. Shame the rest of them can't make it."

"Have loads of fun, Mills," laughed James as the six of them left, James with Amy, Brooke sidling up to Connor, and Declan chatting animatedly with Monica.

The Three Broomsticks was teeming with people, and they had to search the crowd to find David and the two Ravenclaws he was with, Joseph Corner and Philip Bay. All three of them had been in the match against Slytherin earlier.

"Hey!" shouted David, as he caught sight of them. "We're over here!"

Monica blushed.

"David's so good looking," she whispered to Amy, as they made their way across to the three Ravenclaws. "Fingers crossed."

"It's three weeks away!" said Amy.

"That hasn't stopped others," replied Monica. "I've already been asked by four people, thank you very much."

Amy smiled as Monica took a seat beside David, who grinned and raised a hand, calling for Madam Violet, the daughter of the recently retired Madam Rosmerta. She hurried up to the table, smiling broadly.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"Six Butterbeers for everyone joining us," he said. "Thanks, Violet."

"That's Madam Violet to you," she replied, chuckling.

"Why?" said David. "You're not married, are you?"

She turned away, still laughing, the spitting image of a much younger version of her mother. Joseph Corner slapped his back heartily.

"You're a pathetic old flirt, you know that?" he teased.

Amy squeezed Monica's hand under the table, as if to say don't worry. Monica shot her the quickest of looks, a grateful smile.

"Just being polite," replied David with a grin. "You see, Jo, I'm still free, unbound, unlike our friend James here. But then, with Amy on his arm, it's not too much of a sacrifice."

"At least," joked James, "I'm not a pathetic old flirt."

His hand found hers under the table, and Amy felt herself relax. By the time Madam Violet returned with their second round of Butterbeers, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

"With Spellotape!" finished Declan.

Everyone roared with laughter, James and David particularly. When the laughter died down, there was a brief period of silence.

"You know, we've managed to lose all our matches," mused Philip Bay.

"Every one," agreed Joseph Corner.

David threw his Butterbeer down against the surface of the table. "And that match against Slytherin…"

"Bloody awful," said Declan. "No offence."

"You played brilliantly, though, David," piped up Monica. "And Pip and Joseph, you too."

"Very well," said Brooke, smiling comfortingly.

"You'd better beat them," said Joseph Corner. "We're counting on you to make them look as bad as we did today."

"You've got a good team," said David. "I went to your try-outs." He gestured at Amy with an impressed nod.

"Like the rest of the school did," she grumbled.

"No, but Amy, you were good," argued David. "No-one expected you to be. Remember first-year?"

Amy remembered it only too well. It had been their first Quidditch lesson, and Amy had fallen off her broomstick while her feet were still planted firmly on the ground. Taking a deep breath, she had remounted it, kicked off like everyone else, flew for three seconds and then flipped off her broom, falling, again, flat on her face. Since then, she had avoided the sport as much as possible. It had been almost as bad as the Red Caps incident.

"That was hilarious," laughed Monica.

"Thanks," said Amy drily.

Slowly, the people in the inn began to thin, and by the time they had finished their forth Butterbeers, they felt it was time for them, too, to leave. They split the cost by nine, paid, and trudged outside. A typical January; frost crunched underfoot and an icy breeze bit at any part of skin left exposed. Amy shivered.

"Hey, Ames," said a familiar voice, and James was on her left, grinning down at her. "Look over there."

She turned her head in the direction he had indicated, and saw Connor talking to Brooke, whose cheeks were a deep red. Near them, in a large group, were Declan, Monica, and the three Ravenclaws. Joseph and Philip were tossing Dragonfire Crackers into the air, where they crackled green, snapping flames. Monica looked on with wide eyes, keeping her distance, while David and Declan explained the intricacies of the 2004 Quidditch World Cup to her. Declan's eyes were adoring.

"Does Declan really like Monica, or is it just..." began Amy.

"He likes her," chuckled James. "I really wish he'd do something about it, though."

"Monica's hoping David will ask her to be his valentine," she said. "So if he wants to do something, he needs to do it fast."

"Valentine's Day's weeks from now!" exclaimed James.

"Yeah," said Amy. "That's what I said."

"Oh, but while we're on the topic," he said hastily, "Will you be my valentine?"

Amy grinned. "Hmm... Not sure. You know, you're not really my type and I–"

James punched her lightly on the arm, laughing. "Shut up."

"Alright, alright," she sighed. "I'll let you take me out on Valentine's Day."

He dug his hands into his pockets. "Isn't it strange that we're – you know – going out? I still kind of see you as my best friend, who I'm in love with, rather than, well, my girlfriend."

"I see what you mean," agreed Amy. "But… if I wasn't your girlfriend, could we do this?"

She kissed him softly on the lips. Drew away, smiling.

"You're right," he said. "But I think I preferred it when it was just between you and me, rather than with everyone knowing."

"Agreed," said Amy. "But here's a plan. Let's set Brooke and Connor up, and Monica and Declan, too. Or David. Then we won't be the only couple."

"Couple," groaned James. "That's another word I hate."

"Come on, boyfriend," laughed Amy, linking her hand in his and dragging him forwards. "Let's get back to Hogwarts. Oh – and sometime, you've got to teach me that move your dad taught you. The Wonky something?"

"Wronski Feint," corrected James, shaking his head. "And you call yourself a Quidditch player?"

When they had returned to Hogwarts, James, Amy, and Declan picked up their brooms and headed to the pitches, deciding that it would only be fair to join the rest of the team - save Anora, of course - in their Quidditch practice, only to find McMillan, Geoff and Albus shouting at the Slytherin team.

"But you've already played today!" spluttered McMillan.

Ivan Zabini, the Slytherin Captain, yanked the Quaffle from between McMillan's hands. "We've booked the pitch."

"No you haven't!" roared Geoff.

"Got two third-years backing you up, McMillan?" sneered Wyatt Warrington, a fifth-year whom Amy had always known to be unpleasant and domineering.

"OI!" shouted Declan. The two teams turned. McMillan looked relieved as he saw the three of them.

"Actually," said James loudly, striding over with Amy and Declan by his side, "he's got us, too."

"Well, well, well," smirked Zabini. "Potter and Morrison to the rescue with this… Merlin, McMillan. I always knew your choices were terrible, but Longbottom? She's got a reputation. Even I've heard about the first year incident."

Amy felt rage bubble up inside her. "That was four years ago!"

"And have you played a real game since?" sneered Zabini.

She drew back. "Well… no, but that's not relevant, is it? What's relevant is that you need to get off the pitch."

"I wouldn't use that tone of voice with me, Longbottom," he snapped. "Even though your father's a teacher of mine, I'm a prefect, being Quidditch Captain. And so, I can deduct points at my leisure… Don't want to lose even more points for Gryffindor than you already have, do you?"

"In case you haven't forgotten," snarled McMillan, "I'm a prefect too."

Zabini sighed. "Just give us the pitch, McMillan, and no one gets hurt."

"Hurt?" repeated McMillan angrily. "Hurt? What're you going to do, release your Beaters on us?"

Zabini smirked. "I'm sure our Beaters would love to take on yours."

The two Slytherin Beaters, Simon Goyle and Vincent Derrick, smiled wide smiles, and Geoff and Declan glared back at them.

"This is ridiculous," said McMillan. "So you'd better leave, otherwise I'm calling Professor Johnson to kick you out."

"She favours you, 'cause you're in Gryffindor like she was," said Zabini. "But that's not playing fair, is it?"

"Like you ever play fair," muttered Declan.

"Geoff, go get her," growled McMillan, taking a step towards Zabini.

Zabini sniggered, raised up his hands in mock-surrender.

"Fine," he said. "We'll go, we'll go. But don't think this is going to help you beat us. We're the best team in the school. Your team's just..." He looked them up and down. "...the weirdest mixture of Gryffindors."

The Slytherin team turned to leave, but Turvulus Malfoy remained behind, sidling up to Amy. He leaned into her ear; she stood stock still, frozen with shock.

"Sorry Ames," he said. "See you later?"

Then he turned on his heel, and sprinted to catch up with his team, leaving the Gryffindors staring with confusion at Amy. James, especially, looked beyond himself.

"Did he just call you... Ames?" he hissed.

Amy nodded slowly. "I… I think so."

She turned her head to watch Malfoy leave the pitch, wondering what in the hell he was up to.