a/n: some supportive gryffindor first year moments. i actually forgot how much i love these guys :').

"I'm going to play," Harry told us the next morning. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. It'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," Hermione said gently.

We sat together at breakfast again, Harry now eating much more easily than he had his first match. He seemed to want to fuel himself to tackle whatever was to come.

Dean, Seamus, and Neville (I was realizing quickly they were always the last to arrive in the morning of the first years) walked in shortly after. I watched Dean curiously, hoping he wouldn't see me staring. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed he fancied me all this time. I was still reeling from the previous day, everything had happened so quickly.

I was happy that Dean took it so well. I really did enjoy being his friend. I hoped he would still enjoy being mine even if I didn't like him like that. He suddenly turned toward the table, so I smiled. He returned it with a wave. Seamus ended up ushering the both of them over toward us.

"Good luck today Harry. Hope Snape won't give you too hard of a time," Seamus clapped him on the back. Harry shrugged.

"Whatever happens, I can handle it," he said with more confidence than he probably felt.

"I don't think throwing up on him is going to help anybody," I told Harry, noticing the rate at which the toast was disappearing from the table. "Slow down. And drink some water, for the love of God."

"We'll be rooting for you," Dean told him. "If anything happens we'll be there to help."

"Thank you all," Harry rolled back his shoulders and took a large gulp of water. "I'm ready as I'll ever be."

After wishing Harry good luck an hour later, Ron, Hermione, and I found our way to Neville, Seamus, and Dean in the stands. Neville seemed to be eyeing our wands, worried. I didn't tell him that we'd been preparing the Leg-Locker Curse for Snape in case he were to act. He looked rather upset to be there, in fact, I didn't think I'd ever seen him so angry.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," Ron said to Hermione and I. "Look — they're off. Ouch!"

I looked to Ron, then behind him. I scowled. Malfoy again.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

"Don't you ever get tired of being a prick?" I snapped at him. He sneered at me.

"Don't you ever get tired of talking?"

"Get out of here, Malfoy," Dean warned. "We're just trying to watch the game."

"That's great, Thomas, but I don't care," Malfoy scoffed, scowl deeper than usual.

"You're on the wrong side of the stands," I glared at Malfoy. "You'd better go before someone a little less kind decides you don't belong here."

"Like who?" Malfoy laughed dryly. "Longbottom?" Neville tensed at this. "Besides, the view's better over here. Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron was doing his best to ignore him, focusing on the game, as was Hermione. Malfoy stayed silent for another few minutes. I didn't bother looking back up at him, turning my attention to the game and moving closer to the other Gryffindors.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville's face went red, but this time he looked Malfoy square in the eye.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he managed.

The Slytherins laughed, but Ron, still watching the game, said "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron looked as if he were about to snap. I sighed and looked to Malfoy. "If you say one more word, Malfoy—"

"Ron, Lila!" Hermione exclaimed, "Harry!"

"What? Where?" Ron said, though we'd already spotted him. He was diving towards the field, pursuing the Snitch.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" Malfoy grinned.

That was the final straw. I blinked, and Ron had tackled Malfoy to the ground, punching him vigorously. Neville hesitated, then decided to help. I found myself laughing. The git deserved it.

Hermione was watching the game, pretending not to notice the brawl underneath her chair. I gave Dean a mischievous look, and with grace, traipsed over to the battle zone to give Malfoy a sharp kick to the unspeakables. Malfoy let out a yelp of pain, at which Ron laughed, before he was overtaken by Crabbe. Seamus and I had to pry the boys off of each other. The stands suddenly erupted into cheers, and I turned to see that Harry had the Snitch held high in the air. I let out a cheer.

"Damn all of you!" Malfoy spat. His mouth was bleeding. I felt a small sense of pride.

"It's too bad, isn't it?" I grinned.

"What?" He snapped.

"Losing." Ron brushed himself off and stood up from the ground. "Now there's more where that came from Malfoy, so if I were you I'd scram."

Scram they did, and we all laughed at their retreating backs. Dean offered me a high five. I took it. The six of us made our merry way up to the hospital wing. Neville looked really beat up, but Ron looked fine. We were all telling them, especially Neville, how proud we were.

"You really socked him, didn't you, Neville!" Seamus grinned, but then his smile disappeared. "I think he's unconscious." He'd been carrying him on his shoulder.

"You win some you lose some," Ron shrugged. "He still did a great job. We're pretty close to the hospital wing."

Madam Pomfrey had immediately demanded to know what happened. We told her he'd "tripped down the stairs," which she didn't seem to believe; but took anyway. We left the hospital wing soon after, and made our way to the common room.

"How'd that feel?" Ron asked me. He didn't have to specify, I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Amazing," I laughed. "I'd pay someone to let me do that again."

"The look on his face!" Dean gave me a light punch in the shoulder. "I'd pay to see that again."

The common room was celebrating with food and drink. I wondered where Harry had disappeared to — the Quidditch team was gathered in the corner, looking happy but also confused. As if reading my mind, the captain, Oliver Wood, approached us.

"Any of you know where Harry is?" He asked us. We all shook our heads.

"We thought he was with you," Hermione said.

After ten minutes, I saw him come through the portrait hole, looking shaken. I ran up to meet him, Ron and Hermione in tow. Dean and Seamus had gone off with the Weasley twins.

"Harry, where have you been ?" Hermione exclaimed.

"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right — talk about showing Slytherin! We've been waiting for you, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," said Harry quietly, looking around. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this . . ."

We slipped out of the party and into an empty classroom. He took a deep breath.

"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy — and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocus' — I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through—"

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" Hermione was as alarmed as I was.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," Ron said, turning pale.

I fretted that night about the fate of the Stone. While Professor Quirrel was supposed to be qualified enough to teach his class, I wasn't sure how well he'd hold up in the face of Snape's intimidation. However, I recalled the other day when Snape had been speaking to McGonagall about me regarding what I shouldn't know. Were the two in on it together? They couldn't be — surely not Gryffindor's own head of house.

I hardly slept, and when light came through the window I decided it would be more worthwhile to take my restless legs on a walk.

I was wandering the grounds alone, the morning spring air sweet and fresh against my skin. It was around this time that it was closest to autumn, minus the colorful leaves littering the ground. Instead, flowers blossomed on trees and the forest was mostly shades of green. I sat on the bench and stared out at the forest, trying to gather my thoughts.

A shrill voice interrupted the peace.

"What the hell did you do?!"

As much as I wanted to ignore it, Pansy Parkinson's voice was unmistakable. I figured she'd come to scream at us, but I hadn't thought it would be quite so soon.

I sighed, turning around. "Depends on what we're talking about. But if it's about your boyfriend, I didn't lay a finger on him."

This was entirely true. Did I kick him in the balls? Yes. But that was my foot, see. My fingers didn't touch a single hair on his head.

Pansy went red at my statement. "He's not my— whatever. You and your friends better watch your backs. You're going to pay for all that you did, you hear?!" Her voice went loud and shrill at the end, so I winced.

"Yes, Pansy. I think everyone heard." I told her.

"He had to spend so long in the Hospital Wing last night healing all of his bruises and the black eye that Weasley gave him that he missed dinner." Pansy snapped, as if I wasn't getting just how greatly we had inconvenienced him.

I scoffed. "Well next time tell him to quit poking his ferrety nose around in our business, and tell him to leave me alone especially. I can't stand him."

"He can't stand you either," she rolled her eyes. "It's a wonder anyone can. You're just about as annoying as it gets."

"I could say the same for you," I glared. "What are you even doing out here this morning anyway?"

"I come here every morning," she scoffed, which took me by surprise. "You're the one in my spot, so move it, scum."

I had half a mind to argue with her, but my body was too exhausted to fight. Besides, I was starting to get hungry.

"Fine." I conceded coolly, turning on my heel to go. "I'll be off."

"Yeah, and fix those bags under your eyes while you're at it!" She called after me. "You could fit libraries in those!"

She didn't try to stop me as I stormed away, morning ultimately ruined. I ate alone in the Great Hall for a while before I was joined by Hermione.

"I didn't see you in bed this morning," she told me.

"I couldn't sleep. Sorry, I should have told you," I apologized. She shook her head.

"It's not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure you're alright." She paused. "You mean a lot to me Lila, truly."

I finally looked up at her, and her smile was warm and apologetic. I figured she had felt bad about giving me the cold shoulder for a while after the holidays. Maybe Harry had told her what our conversation was about himself, or maybe she'd finally just decided to believe me.

"You mean a lot to me too," I told her. "You're the best friend I've ever had."

She blushed at this, and we ate in a peaceful silence. Ron and Harry came down several minutes later, followed by Lavender and Parvati, and expectedly Seamus, Neville, and Dean were the final stragglers.

"Budge over," Dean told Seamus, "I need a place to sit."

As usual, Seamus moved so he was only half on the seat, half off, so Dean could sit in between him and Neville. I used to be astounded that he would offer this up every morning, until I realized that he and Dean would switch at dinner. One of them was always sitting on the edge for the other.

Dean took the seat in between Seamus and Neville, a tight fit but one he managed. After inserting himself into the row, he turned and flashed a smile at me.

"Could you pass the jam, Lila?"

I smiled back. "Sure, Dean."

It was a calm, pleasant morning after that.