Note:

Hey^^

...

James' POV:

The joy was palpable. The match was ours. The changing room was filled with triumphant faces - well, except for one. Padfoot was retrieving his clothes, which he had hidden away and magically secured since the itching powder incident.
Yes, that prank had dented his ego, deeply. Ours had not emerged unscathed either, but Padfoot shared a special connection with Lestrange. One built mostly on hatred.
If they truly despised each other, they would steer clear of one another. Instead, they seemed to relish their endless squabbles.
So, there was not that much of hatred?
That was my theory, at least, and so, with a grin, I remarked, »She won’t pull the same prank twice.« My gaze wandered to my best mate, who inspected his trousers and shrugged.
»I wouldn’t put anything past that snake,« he muttered before pulling them on.
»If she’s planning something, we should watch out for Phil. She might serve as the prank’s delivery agent - still waters run deep, as they say,« I ventured.
To this day, I could not fully understand Phil. Moony spent the most time with her, which meant she occasionally reached out to the rest of us. We had played a significant role at the start of her Hogwarts journey, and yet I barely knew her character.
Logically speaking, though, I did not know much about Lily either. That did not stop me from finding her attractive. Every time I saw her, my stomach filled with an annoying, fluttery sensation, and my brain short-circuited. Some of the idiotic remarks I had made would not have crossed my lips otherwise.

Sometimes I could curse myself…

But there it was - I had to live with who I was. I got dressed, Padfoot following suit, the atmosphere settling into a steady hum of contentment.
Soon enough, we left the changing rooms. Gryffindor was ecstatic, the Hufflepuffs downtrodden but accepting their loss with grace. As we stepped onto the field, the team was quickly swarmed - friends, classmates, and well-wishers spilling onto the pitch to celebrate.
It did not take long to spot Remus and Peter descending from the stands. Interestingly, they approached Phil and the other girls. Moony was speaking with Phil, and something she said made him laugh.
»The charm of the redhead,« Padfoot whispered conspiratorially, slinging an arm around my shoulder. »Moony’s fallen for it - victim number two.«
I gave him a sideways glance, then rolled my eyes as he winked at me.
»What?« he asked. »Am I wrong?«
I did not reply.
Even I thought Moony found Phil far too intriguing, though he would never admit it. He would crush his emotions under the weight of his relentless logic, burying them so deep they would only surface months later. But when they did, they would hit him like a tidal wave, overwhelming and all-consuming.
There was only one way to stop him from suppressing burgeoning feelings - constant reminders. Keep them at the forefront of his mind so he could not bury them. Plus, we would have fun teasing him about it, as good friends do.
Remus had always struggled with emotions, overthinking everything, never following his heart when he found a girl attractive. And yes, Padfoot was right - the charm of the redhead was undeniable. Phil was not unattractive either; she belonged to the sweet, endearing type of girls. And she understood Remus, especially the burdens he carried as a werewolf.
Since Phil had come to Hogwarts, Moony’s post-full moon self-loathing had noticeably diminished.

Wait…

Only now did it strike me - yes, my thoughts were slow today - what Phil told the girls when she was absent each month. Sure, she often seemed to handle her transformations better than Remus and rarely ended up in the Hospital Wing, but even we had noticed something was off about Moony early in our time at Hogwarts.
We had asked Phil about it once, back in first or second year. She had claimed that her frequent nocturnal wanderings were well-known among the girls, and no one questioned her fatigue. Later, she explained that her nature as a full-blooded werewolf might account for her resilience.
But what about now?

I overthink things.

That conclusion came swiftly - it was odd to dwell on such matters right after a match victory. I dismissed the thoughts as Dorcas Meadowes dashed past, radiant and heading towards her friends. The girls had already reached the pitch. Wormtail and Moony joined us.
»Wasn’t it brilliant?« Padfoot asked, as modest as ever. He was not wrong, though - we had played so well that even Hufflepuff’s Seeker catching the Snitch had not been enough to save them. In the end, it was their inexperience that cost them, their relatively new team lacking the cohesion we had built over years.
»Yeah, best game I’ve ever seen,« Moony deadpanned in response.
»Why do I detect sarcasm?« Padfoot challenged.
»You’re imagining it.«
»Not yet, but give it time - perhaps during the celebration in the common room, after a few shots of Firewhisky.«
With that, Padfoot’s call for a party was echoed by cheers from our housemates. Victory celebrations had always been fantastic, growing even better as we got older. Explanations were unnecessary - Gryffindor knew how to celebrate.

Remus' POV:

»Butterbeer?« Padfoot was currently peddling drinks to far too many people. It was a clear testament to his extroverted nature. I, on the other hand, stood beside him, resigned to the task of handing out bottles from the crate he carried.
At present, he was chatting with a group of girls, shamelessly making eyes at a blonde who seemed all too receptive. I let my gaze drift to her companions instead, recognising one of them. The brunette standing beside the blonde was Sara Harmon. I only knew her name because we had faced each other in a duel during Defence Against the Dark Arts not long ago.
She smiled at me, clearly remembering the match, so I returned the gesture - briefly, before Padfoot’s prattle came to an end.
»That’s Katie,« he explained as we walked away.
I nodded, though he elaborated regardless.
»Saw her at Quidditch practice recently. She told me I’m a phenomenal player.«
»So, an easy catch?« I asked, giving him a scrutinising look as we wove through the crowded common room. Music played, the air warm and thick with voices. Outside, the night pressed against the windows, but inside, golden light bathed the scene.
»Why the tone, Moony?« he teased, grinning at me. »Besides, her friend seems to fancy you.«
»I dueled her, that’s all. There’s nothing to interpret.«
»I’m not interpreting anything, but you could chat her up. Have some fun - you know what I mean?«
»Who’s chatting up whom?« James appeared, cheerful as ever.
We stood on the fringes of the room, and I almost managed to stop Padfoot from speaking.

Almost.

»That girl back there has been making eyes at Moony,« Padfoot announced, entirely too pleased with himself.
»She smiled at me, that’s all!« I countered immediately.
»Exactly - she made eyes at him, Prongs,« Padfoot insisted.
»The brunette?« James asked, adjusting his glasses. Padfoot nodded.
»She’s still looking, see!« James exclaimed with glee, his enthusiasm entirely unwarranted. Between the two of them, one would need more than Butterbeer to endure their antics.
»And what do you propose I do?« I asked, exasperated.
»Talk to her.«
»I don’t want to.«
»Why not?«
»No reason. I just don’t.«
»Does this have to do with Phil?« Padfoot asked, the question I had been dreading. My glare was sharp, though he paid it no mind.
»No,« I replied firmly, the sound of jubilant Gryffindors in the background.
»If it’s not about Phil, then give the girl a chance,« Padfoot urged, and I sighed. I did not want to talk to some girl I had no serious interest in.

You could approach her casually, like Prongs and Padfoot do?
A bit of harmless fun.

The thought was as unwelcome as it was persistent, yet some internal wall kept me rooted.
»Is it Phil, then? Do you fancy her?« This time it was James prodding, and he received a similarly sour look.
Their questions grated on me because I could not answer them. I wanted to answer them, but I could not.
»No.«
»Then go on - talk to the girl. She’s still looking, you know.«
»Merlin, you two are insufferable!« I snapped, finally turning and doing something foolish. I approached Sara Harmon, perhaps to prove a point to the lads - or perhaps to myself.
Phil was only interesting in a character sense, nothing more. Surely, I could handle a conversation with Sara Harmon. No one ever died from small talk, after all.

Phil’s POV:

The Butterbeer bottle in my hands was still half-full. I sat with the girls on one of the couches, Alice and Mare sprawled on the floor, carefully stacking cards into a precarious tower.
It was quiet for a moment, though not for long.
»What are the ladies up to?« came a voice - Black’s, unsurprisingly.
He and Potter loomed before us, a suspicious bottle and a handful of shot glasses in tow.
»What do you want?« Lily asked, meeting their gaze.
»Offering you marvellous Firewhisky,« Black announced, raising the bottle as if it were some rare prize. His eyes had a slight glassiness, likely thanks to said bottle.
I, however, glanced past them, spotting Pettigrew alone by a table, meticulously rearranging drinks. The symmetry seemed to consume him, though that was not what caught my attention.
It was the absence of Remus.
Scanning the room, I found him at its edge, speaking to a girl I did not recognise. She leaned against the wall, laughing as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
I was not sure what struck me as more peculiar - her overly polished demeanour or the fact that Remus was talking to a girl at all. Everyone knew Potter and Black flirted constantly, but Remus? This was a new development.

He’s still a Marauder, Phil.
My inner voice reminded me, and it was true. Remus was, in some ways, no different from his friends - friends who, at this very moment, wanted something from us.

»No, thank you,« Lily said curtly, rejecting the shot glass being waved under her nose.
»Prude?« Black taunted, earning a withering glare from her.
»No, I simply have common sense.«
»And a stick up your arse, Evans,« Black goaded.
»We just don’t want Firewhisky,« Dorcas interjected, defusing the tension.
»Prudes, the lot of you,« Black declared, though Mare shrugged indifferently.
»And?« she countered.
»Nothing,« Black replied with a grin, »just more fun for us.«
»Far more fun,« Potter agreed. »Though I’d have loved to dance with you, Evans.«
»Not a chance. Go find someone else. Plenty of girls would gladly dance with the great James Potter, so no.«
»Shame. You’d have been my first choice.«
With that, the pair wandered off, peddling their whisky to someone more receptive. Lily muttered curses under her breath, but the rest of us laughed it off. Despite their antics, the Gryffindors’ mood remained jubilant, and the common room buzzed with energy long into the night.

---

Oh hellooooooo,

only three days until Christmas? How do we feel about that? I'm drowning in chaos, but hey, here's a chapter XD

I have to thank you for still being here. I think I can now confidently say that I've charmed you, hehe.
Of course, I know that this fanfic has a rough start because you're overwhelmed with emotions and events. Phil is not a classic main character - neither very brave nor prominent - but that's what Lestrange and the others are for. With Phil as an introduction, it’s a bit challenging, but I think she grows on you.
I also believe that from this point in the story, you start to love the characters and appreciate their quirks. So, thank you to all of you who are still here at Chapter 46!

I’m often a silent reader myself, though I’m trying to be more present. But I’m sending hearts to all the silent readers out there. Maybe I’ll get some in return, hehe. Just one heart, no pressure:

❤️❤️❤️

I’ll say goodbye again!
See you soon!

RaVen