Beyond Hogwarts cont; Chapter Twenty Six

-=Beyond Hogwarts, cont.; Chapter Twenty Six=-

With a small pouf of ashes, they landed in the large fireplace in the entrance hall, and James’ expression immediately became something close to reverence.
   “Now this I have missed,” he grinned. “Home.” The smile faded somewhat, though, when the staircase remained empty-for some reason, he had pictured Lily in a beautiful, dark green summer dress, appearing at the landing to meet him. In an ideal world, yeah, he grumbled to himself. “Where’s Lily?”
   “I ate her,” Sirius said smoothly. “Actually, I figured you wouldn’t want to greet her while sitting in this thing. Stand up, and let’s see how you do it. Three weeks off of your legs can make them go a bit woozy on you.”
   James scowled at his friend, but obeyed. “It’s not as if I got shot in the kneecaps, Padfoot,” he grumbled, putting his hands on the arms of the wheelchair. “I mean, I can still walk.”
   “All right.” Grinning impishly, Sirius stood back. “Let’s see you do it.”
   James rolled his eyes, but lifted himself up and stood for a few seconds before his knees buckled and he landed back first on the floor.
   “Ow,” he muttered, watching the chandelier shake. “I hate you.”
   “What, me?”
   “No, my knees. You, too, though, come to that.”
   “Come on,” Sirius smirked, “up you get. Here, take my arm.”
   Finally, when James felt secure enough on his feet, Sirius disappeared for a few seconds, telling James to stay put. Using the time alone to walk a bit with the help of the mantlepiece, he succeeded finely in running about ten steps or so. Cheerfully, he held onto the mantlepiece with one hand and gave the wheelchair a satisfying kick with the other.
   However, he didn’t see what happened to it. A pair of thin hands had closed over his eyes, and a voice he had been looking forward to hearing laughed gleefully.
   “Guess who?”
   “Albus Dumbledore the fourth,” James grinned, grasping Lily’s wrists as he spun around. “Lily, you’re one of the few people with hands I can recognize.”
   “Is that good or bad?” she asked innocently.”
   “You have very pretty hands,” he said sweetly, taking both of them. “Cold, too. Feels good on foreheads on hot afternoons.”
   Shaking her head, Lily kissed him, standing on tiptoe. “Welcome home, Mr. Potter.”
   She led him outside moments later to a cheering, widely grinning troop of people, some waving incense sticks spouting gaily tinted sparks, some throwing valiantly bright flower petals into the air so that they landed on Lily and James’ shoulders, and the rest (Sirius and Peter) had clambered onto a balcony overlooking the door to the garden in the back, and were amusing themselves by Transfiguring the flower petals and unruly sparks into large snowflakes.
   “Hurrah!” Lora spouted merrily, stripping a rose of its petals and accidentally throwing them in the direction of Remus’ ear. “Three hundred and sixty-eight cheers for the cured patient!”
   “Try three, and see if your voice doesn’t get ruined,” Vanessa advised, clapping her hands violently along with the rest of the crowd. “Huzzah!”
   The pile of gifts turned out to be mostly sweets, half of Zonko’s supplies, and the oddball gift that did something rather more than unusual, like the china doll that kept changing back and forth into a pretzel covered with large, salty kernels that made your fingertips start spouting tears. They had a horrendously loud laugh at Frank’s appearance after being dared to eat it; it turned back into a china doll halfway into the pretzel, and Frank found himself trying to crunch a piece of a china arm between his teeth.
   Migrating to the table stocked with food and subsequently to the colorful lake, the crowd dispersed somewhat, leaving James and Sirius on lawn chairs while Lily, impishly, helped in the dunking match in the lake.
   “I have never felt this happy,” James said vaguely, staring blissfully at the sky. “Well, apart from our wedding.” He paused. “And our honeymoon.” Focusing his gaze at his feet, he started thinking. “And our anniversary. And the seventh year ball. And the day we finally finished the Animagus transformation. And the day we finished the Marauder’s map. And—“
   “James, old buddy,” Sirius grinned, “if everyone had as many happiest days as you do, all would be right in the world.”
   For some reason, James looked insulted. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been happy!”
   Tilting his head to the side, Sirius stared at the sun, thinking. “I was most pleased the day that I told Snape to bugger off of Lily, but…”
   “You are joking, aren’t you?” James said flatly, his tone implying that ‘no’ was not an answer legally safe to give.
   “Yeah,” his friend grinned, an expression which dropped quickly as he caught sight of a rather unwelcome figure. “I’m not that happy now, though; it doesn’t seem like my advice worked.”
   “What?”
   Sirius pointed to the doorway of the house and James spun around; Severus Snape was standing there, in full black and grey, talking to Lily.
   “I will bet you anything he’s sweating like a pig,” James grinned. “Wonder if he’d mind our cooling him off. In the interest of humanity, of course.”
   “Of course,” Sirius agreed. “Hexes go under that title, I’m supposing?”
   “Cooling off wouldn’t be cooling off without hexes,” James stated matter-of-factly, as if he believed that his sentence had made some kind of sense. “Just make sure Lily’s out of sight.”
   “Good luck,” Remus grinned, who was lying nearby. “Lily’s smart enough to know what you two’re thinking, and I dunno if she’ll leave his side.”
   “Oh, I’ll manage that,” James said suavely, running his hand through his hair and winking. “No worry there, Moony, old pal.”
   Sirius was looking at James with distaste. “You remind me of a blockhead I met in Diagon Alley once.”
   “Oh, really?” James asked. “Handsome, charming, desirable…”
   “He was standing in front of Madam Malkin’s shop window, admiring his reflection while running fingers through his hair in exactly the way you just did. Gave me a very odd look—as if he were trying to say that he knew full well that I knew I wasn’t as handsome as he, but jealousy wasn’t the solution.” He snorted. “Lockhart, the gold-embroidered name on his robes was. Prat.”
   “With a name like that, it’s only to be expected,” James agreed. “Pass the cream puffs.”
   Severus, however, seemed to have a suspicion of what they had been talking about, and, mostly to spite them, refused to go anywhere the duo. Lily stayed near him for the rest of the evening, but not because she thought that her husband and his best friend were intending to turn Severus’ toes into dancing elephants, but because hardly any of the crowd at the party ever spoke to him. Severus was used to that, of course, but she wasn’t going to leave him to meander listlessly around, making dandelion crowns to amuse himself as a last resort.
   When the sun sank peacefully behind a bank of trees, the water in the small lake started flashing happily with many differently coloured sparks, and it was Sirius’ idea to see whether Filibuster’s Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks would give off more of an explosion if started with one of the watery sparks. It did, as a matter of fact, and a funny sort of fountain formed in the air and started raining down sparkles.
   The table filled with food, however, managed to escape, and around nine o’clock, a very stuffed and particularly good-natured horde of people made their way home, some congregating around the fireplace in the entrance hall (Arthur Weasley and his family) and the rest simply Disapparating.
   Generously, Peter, Sirius, and Remus offered to clean up outside, so, tired and blissful, James fell asleep in only a few minutes; he had been out of the hospital but a few hours, and seeing Lily again-and being outside in the sun, and laughing till his sides hurt, and…simply everything had exhausted him. Once he managed to get into bed, he fell asleep immediately, with his head pillowed on Lily’s shoulder.
   Lily had to leave for the Ministry the next morning, but Peter and Remus had agreed to stay with James while she was at work. James had, at the time that he had bought the World Cup tickets, booked a premium campsite, and all that was now left to do was to pack clothes for two days and head for Naxos. They were taking Bill Weasley along, too; his family couldn’t afford enough tickets for the whole family, but James had offered Bill a birthday present of one of the gold-embossed slips of parchment, and his parents had entrusted the boy to James’ care.
   The excitement of the Cup spreading through the air was infectious; the tournament had practically been ignored by the group ever since the burglary and shooting, but now a pent-up energy had induced the four Marauders to have six suitcases ready and waiting in the hall by the time Lily Apparated home at five.
   “Oh, a head start, is that it?” she grinned. “Who fed you four obedience pills?”
   James looked insulted. “I will have you know that it is not so infrequent that I am organized.”
   “I beg to differ,” Sirius said dryly. “Judging by the state of your sock drawer, that is.”
   Lily moved towards the group of trunks. “Have you packed my things?”
   “Definitely,” James nodded fervently. “The one with the silver ribbon on the handle is yours. There, on the right-no, don’t open it!”
   Stopping short, Lily pivoted to face the four. “What have you put in my suitcase?”
   “A surprise,” Peter said innocently, the wide grin of the other three betraying that something was odd about the surprise. “A fun, bright surprise.”
   Surprisingly, Lily laughed. “All right. But if it ends up blowing up the stadium, I have never met you for in my life. Come on-I’ve arranged for the Portkey to arrive outside our house, and Frank, Eva, and Lora are meeting us there.”
   “Portkey?” James said skeptically. “We’re capable of Apparating, you know.”
   “I know,” Lily said infuriatingly. “Your trunks aren’t, though. And I’m skeptical about your wheelchair.”
   His face fell dramatically. “What?”
   “What, what?”
   “I am not going to the Quidditch World Cup in a wheelchair!”
   “I beg to differ,” Lily tossed back. “You may leave it in our tent once we set it up, but you are not walking across about two miles of sandy Naxos campsites.”
   James scowled. “I’m starting to think that we should have wrecked the wheelchair instead,” he muttered to Sirius. “This is going to be humiliating.”
   Humiliating was right, at least in the eyes of the Marauders. Lucius Malfoy, impeccably outfitted in tailored black satin robes, with an ice-queen of a wife on his arm, was the first person they saw once they took the Portkey to Naxos.
   “Tripped over your oversized feet again, Potter?” Lucius sneered, not acknowledging Lily’s presence and only staring at the seven others.
   “No; just had an encounter with your wife,” James shot back, and, surprisingly to everyone, Lucius froze.
   “What exactly do you mean by that?”
   Lily knew James was bewildered, as was she-and just about everyone else except Lucius.
   “What do you think I mean?” James replied shortly.
   Menacingly, Lucius stepped forward, almost nose to nose with James.
   “Keep your nose where it belongs, Potter, or I’ll make sure it stays there.”
   With a swish of his cloak, he and Serena were gone, leaving the eight friends severely baffled.
   “What did you mean by that comment, anyway?” Remus asked, something that was on everyone’s mind.
   James shrugged. “I mean that that woman can be a murderess if she’s denied anything in the way of conquests-I dunno what he’s thinking.”
   With narrowed eyes, Lily was watching Lucius and Serena disappear behind a large, orange-and-red striped tent, and her mind was whirling. He shouldn’t have taken offense at a remark that wasn’t offensive as of yet-why had he?
   Shaking her head decisively, she picked up one of the trunks’ handles. “Come on. We’d better move if we want to get to the site before it gets stampeded. Bill, come over here and carry your bag.”
   “Oh, no!” James interrupted. “Bill, over here; you talk to your favorite uncle for a while!” He shot a pseudo-dirty look at Lily. “Auntie’s being mean and won’t let Uncle stand up.”
   “’Auntie’ and ‘Uncle’?” Sirius asked, amused. “Is there something I’m missing?”
   “It’s what Bill’s called us ever since James got Molly to let him come with us,” Lily sighed. “It’ll be ‘Daddy’ soon; you just watch.”
   Half-smiling, she watched Bill push James’ wheelchair across the expanse of grass, James explaining to Bill just how exactly one had to swerve to avoid a head-on collision with a Chaser while pulling a Wronski Feint.
   “He really likes that kid, doesn’t he?” Sirius asked, watching the two thoughtfully.
   “He does,” Lily replied, lighthearted. “Bill’s his dream of a child.”
   Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but closed it quickly at glimpsing Lily’s face, which was set tightly underneath a sparkling smile. Shrugging, he pulled towards the back of the group, not letting Lily’s expression out of his sight.
   Their campsite, one for ten people, was roughly fifteen feet square, with sand as a floor instead of grass, which was what the cheaper ones had; the reasoning behind that being that if it rained, sand wouldn’t get muddy, and when it was sunny, there was no such thing as sand-stains on clothing. Besides, the sandy campsites were much closer to the ocean.
   Lily had lagged behind the group somewhat, talking to Eva, and once they arrived at their site, about twelve or sixteen poles were lying scattered everywhere, a blue-and-green cloth something was spread over Bill Weasley, who was being tickled by Sirius, and the rest were looking, frustrated, at a diagram of a tent.
   “What’s wrong here?” Eva asked, walking forward.
   “There is nothing wrong,” Frank said, trying to be dignified. “Slight technical miscalculation, that’s all.”
   “In other words, none of these blockheads know how to put up a tent,” Lora clarified, looking amused. “Lily, you’re a Muggle-ishy person: have you gone camping before?”
   “No,” Lily admitted. “But I have a rough idea of how this should work.”
   “Ah,” Lora smiled. “Then that’s good. Everyone else’s rough idea, move!”
   A half hour, a very large tent had been set up along one marked-off corner of their campsite; it was partitioned off across the middle inside. Then again, this was one of the tents that strictly defied all Ministry lectures and ordinations against curious Muggles, with orange, scarlet, and yellow watered walls, two marble lions set at either side of the elegantly propped-up entrance, one of them spitting water away from the tent as a sprinkler, the idea of which belonged to Bill Weasley, a carved wooden sign ornamented with gilded leaves poked into the sand, announcing, gaudily: Italy for the Cup!, and a self-cleaning red velvet carpet leading into the tent.
   Stepping back, Lily viewed the whole creation with a smirk and a sigh.
   “I’ll have it put on record that the only thing I put up was the tent. So this was your ‘fun, bright surprise’?”
   “Most of it,” Remus clarified. “The rest of it is still in your trunk.”
   “Eurgh,” she sighed. “Why must you wizards feel this blatant urge to show off wherever you go?”
   “My Gryffindor crest is still lying inside,” James grinned. “I could pin that up, if you’d like.”
   “Old-school fanatics,” Lily muttered. “The inside isn’t as bright, I hope?”
   “It is, but in a milder way,” Frank reassured her. “Nothing as dazzling as this.”
   “Very good,” Lily smiled, stepping underneath the canopy and walking inside. “You four are idiots, and I’ll be one of the ones laughing the hardest when you get fined for this.”
   “Can’t hear you too well, Lily, sorry!” James shouted over an immense crackling noise, and against her better judgment, Lily turned around.
   A green and gold fire had been conjured in the middle of about a dozen stones placed in a circle, and a pack of Chocolate Frogs and skewers had been whipped out of Peter’s robes, inviting the inevitable: a session of roasting.
   Shaking her head, laughing, Lily disappeared into the tent, dragging her trunk, and found, to her relief, that the colors were definitely calmer, if not muted. The blue and green cloth Bill had been entangled in formed the walls and dividing curtain, which at the moment was roped together, so that one room existed peacefully. Bunk beds were stacked around the walls, two sofas and three armchairs were set together in the middle of the room, a refrigerator, freezer, small countertop, and stove occupied a small corner, and the trunks had been set next to the bunks.
   Pushing her trunk next to Eva’s bed, she slipped her arms out of the robes she had worn to the Ministry that morning, folded them hurriedly, and rejoined the rest of the group, who had skillfully managed to keep melted chocolate off of their robes.
   “Hallo, Lily; join us!” James invited, patting a spot next to him. “Have a Chocolate Frog.”
   “Sugar Quills melt better, Peter informed her, handing her a few. “And you don’t have to pick out the card.”
   “I will resist,” she smiled, shaking her hair out of her face. “There’s dinner, anyway.”
   “Oh, yes, dinner!” Lora threw her Chocolate Frog over her shoulder, where it landed, face-down, in a small child’s outstretched hand, evoking a joyful yowl. “Come on, Lily, let’s go get!”
   “Don’t bother,” James advised, jerking Lily back down. “Slenka’s arriving in about a half hour. We told her she could wait until we put up the tent.”
   “All right.” Sighing giddily, Lily leaned back on the sandy floor, gazing up at the almost black sky. “When does the match start?”
   Sirius handed her the tickets. “Says there eight o’clock.”
   “Half hour,” Peter said, looking at his watch. “Dinner’ll have to wait till we get back, then.”
   “Half an hour?” James sat up quickly. “Lily, go inside with Eva...and Lora, come to that. You three, look inside Lily’s trunk.”
   “Oh-oh,” Eva muttered. “This, then, I assume, is the rest of that ‘fun, bright surprise’.”
   Upon opening the trunk, mixtures of white, red, and green caught their eyes. Lifting the pieces of cloth out, Lily sighed, shaking her head with an irrepressible smile.
   “As if I didn’t have enough dresses already.”
   “At least you won’t be alone wearing them,” Eva grinned, already slipping out of her shirt. “And at least they’ve got decent taste.”
   Lora winked mischievously. “But if they only had decent taste regarding their own clothes…”
   Laughing, the three emerged ten minutes later, stalking down the red carpet with haughty airs. The gowns were white, reached to their ankles, had a tightly-fitting bodice, and had the sleeves that weren’t attached to the arm but hung down on either side of the shoulder. A bright red and green sash went over one shoulder and tied just below the waist, with the ends of the sash hanging down to well below the knees. Sheer versions of the Italian flag were pinned to their hair just over each ear as a sort of veil, but one that wasn’t intended to cover anything in the way of face or hair.
   “Italy for the cup!” Remus shouted, laughing along with the rest.
   “We look like we’re competing for Miss Italy,” Lily grinned. “At least you’re not planning to blow up the stadium with fireworks.”
   “That would be the Malfoy tent,” James corrected. “An honor such as that must be conferred only to them.”
   “You will not,” Lily suddenly snapped. “On that I put my foot down.”
   “You also put your foot down on my bag of Ice Mice,” Peter mentioned, trying to wiggle it out. “Step up, please.”
   “SOUVENIRS!" a voice shouted from among the rest of the tents. “NORWEGIAN RIDGEBACK MODELS FOR SALE ! BANNERS! CHIRPING-yes, thank you, ma’am; that’ll be five Sickles-CHIRPING DRAGON EGGS! AND, FOR ONLY TWELVE GALLEONS, THE NEWLY-INVENTED, EVER-POPULAR OMNIOCULARS! ONLY SOLD AT THIS YEAR’S QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!”
   A musical, ringing, bell-like throng sounded in the distance, and, picking themselves up, the population sitting on a few scores of square miles moved almost as one towards the large, open-air, golden stadium set just at the water’s edge; next to the ocean.
   This was the first Quidditch match Lily had been to outside of school. Of course, it wasn’t the first for the rest-they had gone during Lily’s fifth year-but this was completely new to her. Blinking hard, she stared around the golden stadium, the ranks speckled with human heads, red and green banners, blue and white signs, flags, the odd noisemakers, and glints of light reflecting from several hundred pairs of glasses.
   Lily almost squealed. “I never thought I’d be this excited about Quidditch!” she shouted to James over the noise.
   “It’s great, isn’t it?” he grinned back. “I’m out of the hospital, haven’t had to go to work for weeks, and someone dependable took over for me.” He kissed her boyishly, then pulling away and beaming at her. “Cloud nine, here I come!”
   Cheering, he turned back to the stadium, where a sole dragon had wandered, lost, into the middle of the arena, and was trying to evade a team of ten Ministry wizards. Much to the Ministry’s disgruntlement, everyone except zealous Ministry supporters were rooting for the dragon.
   Lily hardly heard the cheers; a sinking feeling was starting to settle in her stomach. Someone dependable took over for me…
   It was the first feeling of regret that had pierced through to her mind since she had sent the reply to the Ministry; the reply that James certainly wouldn’t have made, that he couldn’t have. His dislike of the Death Eaters and former Slytherins set aside, his duty to the Ministry preordained the response he would have given…that she was expected to give.
   Weakly, Lily turned away from him, letting the flag-like veil fall between them; a curtain. She hadn’t thought yet of how James would react to what she had done-what would he have to say?
   She had hardly ever seen him truly angry, and even less so at her-and what she had seen so far would definitely be rivaled by this outburst. He hated Tom; hated him with every fiber that composed his body and soul-and he had every right to. Tom had killed his parents, and now he couldn’t have children, something James longed for. He was one of those that idolized children, loved them, worshiped them…
   Casting a glance through the veil, Lily glimpsed a piece of bright red hair muffled in the James’ arms. Letting Bill go, he ruffled the boy’s hair, and, with a beam, reached behind his back and handed Bill a pair of Omnioculars. Bill hadn’t been able to buy them for himself; his parents hadn’t the money, and everyone in the group had seen the longing stares the boy had cast at the souvenir carts.
   Lily had to turn away. And I’ve brought this on him, she thought dully. He would have been better off marrying Serena…he would have been better off hating me throughout Hogwarts. Sinking down onto the upholstered chair, she gave Remus a forced smile.
   If he had kept on being distant, if he had simply ignored her…if only he hadn’t been so prying! Although that was her fault, she admitted; she should have tried harder to keep everything hidden. Why had she let him come along with her?-why, all those times, had she…
   “Oh, no,” she muttered. “Oh, no, oh, no, oh no…”
   Quickly, Lily rose to her feet, trying to push through the row of cheering fans, hand clenched in her skirt.
   Perplexed, James held her back. “Hey-you’ll miss the beginning of the match!”
   “I feel sick!” she shouted. “Be right back.”
   “Oh.” Worried, he slipped an arm around her waist. “Need me to come?”
   “No!” Breathing hard, Lily shook her head fiercely. Need he be so damnedly perfect? “No. I’ll be fine.”
   “All right,” he agreed, though somewhat reluctantly. “Here’s your ticket; they’ll ask for it when you come back in.”
   Mechanically taking the piece of parchment, Lily made her way out of the Top Box, trying not to trip over her skirt. She left the stands unnoticed by almost everyone; the ticket-taker looked fairly puzzled, but he let her pass.
   She stumbled into the ocean behind the stadium, hidden from view, just before becoming violently sick. The candy she had eaten earlier was revolting, and then-well, and then…
   A cheer announced the arrival of the teams; according to the announcer, Italy had sped onto the field, sporting mascots of charioteers racing, airbourne, around the stadium, but Lily saw none of it; only a deafening roar reached her ears, and her head started pounding.
It’s my fault, all of it. Why did I have to make friends with Tom in the first place?...why couldn’t I be satisfied with a regular lifestyle…
   “He’s going to die,” Lily thought dully. “He’s going to die, and it’ll be my fault.” Falling to her knees, she immersed her face in the salty water, wiping away freely falling tears. I’ll have killed him…he’ll be dead, and I’ll be left…alive, and I’ll have killed him!
   She sat back up slowly, her hair hanging down around her face and the soaked and ruined dress and veil like clumpy bunches of seaweed. In the distance, an elegant, pale moon was rising, calm and serene. Taking no note of the Quidditch pandemonium, it passed behind a few wispy clouds before rising, tranquilly, higher and higher, out of reach of the hazes.
   “Damn that necklace!” Lily whispered through clenched teeth. “Oh, I hate that thing…why did I have to be a witch? We’d have been so much better off…everyone would, if I hadn’t known about this world.”
   Lucius Malfoy found her that way, swaying slightly back and forth in water one and a half feet high, a waterlogged dress floating around her waist and a veil only attached to her head over one ear.
   “Having trouble there, Potter?” he smirked.
   Eyes red, Lily raised her head, dropping her hands into the water. “What do you want?”
   “You left the stands,” Lucius said mockingly. “I didn’t imagine the picture would be this priceless, however. You look a marvel.”
   Rising to her feet, Lily waded towards him through the water, looking at him shortly, then moving past her former friend to the shore. The only thing running through her mind was a single recurring thought:
   Lucius Malfoy is safe, hundreds of others will be dead, and yours is the credit.
   Back in the stands, the Italian Chasers had just scored their fourth goal, and James was starting to get a bit worried. Lily had left just before the game started, and she had been gone for a good twenty minutes. And then he had seen Lucius Malfoy leave his seat.
   Leaning over, he punched Sirius lightly. “Listen, I’m going to go follow Lily.”
   “What?” Sirius shouted over the booeing of the Italian fans-Norway had just scored a goal underneath an Italian Beater’s arm. “Why?”
   “Malfoy just left, that’s why! I’ll be right back.”
   “All right,” his friend muttered dubiously. “You’ve got your wand?”
   James slapped his pocket for an answer, and, elbowing his way out of the stands, he disappeared from view.
   One hand on the golden walls of the stadium, Lily was making her way back to the crowds. Her dress was sticking to her legs and the hem was attracting folds of sand; altogether, she was the absolute opposite of the self-christened Miss Italy contestants.
   Lucius was following her, though at a distance of about twenty feet. Biting her lip, she forced herself to look ahead; to ignore him, to get back to where people were. But, every so often, she had to stop; her stomach was still twisting itself into tangles, and it felt as though she had swallowed a ravenous wolverine.
   Just as Lily was about to round the curved corner of the stands, she looked back at the ocean. Lucius was hardly three yards behind her, his face completely expressionless. Taking a deep breath, Lily stepped forward again, only to run headlong into someone’s chest.
   “Dear Merlin!” she gasped, reeling backward and feeling her back hit the stands. Looking up, she caught James’ concerned eyes peering down, and started severely. “Merlin’s beard, James; what made you do that?”
   He didn’t answer; he had spotted Lucius Malfoy lurking a few feet away. Placing an arm around Lily’s waist, he steadied her quietly.
   “Malfoy, were you following her?”
   Lucius grinned. “Were you?”
   “I have that right,” James said coldly. “I am her husband. What did you want with her?”
   Scornfully glancing up and down Lily’s figure, he almost snorted. “Potter, I can do better than that. No. I simply wanted to thank her.”
   Narrowing his eyes, James scowled. “Thank her for what?”
   “Oh; she hasn’t told you? She will, then; and if she doesn’t, the Ministry’ll tell you.” He smirked. “Pleasant night, then, Potter.”
   “Prat,” James snapped, making sure Lucius was still in hearing distance. “Incomparable, pompous, moronic, prancing prat. I hope I never find out what it was that crawled up his arse and died…”
   A muffled “Ow” made him look down; Lily had tripped over her own feet, trying to stand up straight, and was only being held upright by his arms.
   “Lily?” James asked, worried. “Are you all right?”
   “Yeah,” she retorted. “Just…felt…sick.”
   “Was it anything you ate? Here-come on; let me carry you-“
   “James!” she almost squealed as he lifted her off of her feet. “I don’t need to be-what are you do-”
   Her shout was cut off as he raced back towards the water, carried her over a few of the waves, and then dropped headfirst into the sea, carrying her along with him.
   Spouting a stream of water out of his mouth, fountain-like, he emerged again to laughter mixed with sputtering. Water had gone up her nose and into her throat, but Lily was grinning as if she had just been presented with the Alexandrian library, intact and grandiose.
   “We’ll have to go swimming tomorrow,” James beamed. “What say you to that?”
   She started to reply, but her stomach clenched itself together again, and, brow compressed, she bent over, hugging her stomach tightly with both arms. “Ow.”
   “Merlin,” James muttered; “you are sick.”
   “Yeah,” she spat bitterly. “What; you didn’t believe me before?”
   With a swift gesture, he pulled her onto his lap and let her lounge there, her back supported against his chest, as several medium-sized waves crashed against the spot where her head would have been.
   “Just rest…it’ll be all right.”
   Lily sighed inaudibly, closing her eyes. This would have been beautiful if only…oh, if!
   They rejoined the rest in the Top Box about a half hour later, dry, serene, and the recipients of some rather odd looks.
   “Where have you been?” Peter asked indignantly. “You almost missed it-Norway’s Seeker was blocked by an Italian banner that got out of control, and they gave Norway five penalties!”
   James shrugged. “Lily was sick; that’s all…she’s all right now.”
   His words were seemingly confirmed by a cheery “GO, BIAGIO!" from Lily, who had caught a glimpse of the Italian Seeker plunging towards the medi-wizard tent.
   “Oh, damn,” Frank muttered as the Snitch sped out of sight. “And he was so close, too!”
   “Damn,” Bill Weasley repeated, eyes wide. To the amusement of all the bystanders, he whipped out a notebook. “How do you spell that?”
   “F-r-a-n-k-i-s-a-p-o-t-t-y-m-o-u-t-h,” Remus reeled off. “Not around the kid, Frank, for Pete’s sake!”
   “How many new words has he learned around us, anyway?” James inquired, curious. “Billy, hand over that notebook.”
   Innocently, Frank closed it and gave it to James, who immediately pocketed it. “Let’s go over this when we get back to the tent-Bill, look! Up there!”
   A universal “No!” echoed around the stadium as a well-aimed Bludger stopped an Italian Chaser from scoring, and Bill’s face dropped along with all the rest of the Italy fans.
   “Damn!” he sulked.
   Eva rolled her eyes. “Fra-ank!”