21.

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A WEEK LATER, ON THE LAST SATURDAY of April, Farrah marched down to the Great Hall with a big grin on her face. As she walked down the corridors, people turned heads to look at her, some with disgust, some with pride, others with just pure astonishment. She returned all their looks with a smile so bright it challenged the sun.

The Marauders were already at breakfast that morning. They had been there since the crack of dawn, Peter and Remus for support while James and Sirius had finished a last minute training before the match. After all, today was the day. The Quidditch final between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Tensions had been high all week within the castle. Hexes had been cast along the hallways with no indication as to who did it. Bickering that would usually fizzle out became more intense, leading to almost full-blown duels. In addition to being in competition against each other at Quidditch, the Gryffindors and Slytherins were in battle to see who could land more of the other house's members in the Hospital Wing.

(Farrah was sure Slytherin was going to win both.)

Farrah entered the Great Hall with such a presence, it caused all heads to turn to her. James stared at the MacMillan, his face scrunched in disgust. He muttered, "What is she wearing?"

The Muggleborn was decked out from head to toe in Slytherin colors, leaving no part of her body uncovered. She wore a Slytherin flag tied around her like a cape. It trailed behind but floated off the ground, no doubt an enchantment she had put on it. She wore a green sweater that had a giant snake on the front with a black skirt that had green and silver trimmings. Her Slytherin tie, that she usually wore proudly around her neck, was tied around her head.

As if that wasn't enough, Farrah had also painted her face green and enchanted her hair so it was no longer deep red but a shining silver.

Before the girl could move from the doorway, James called out, "Oi, MacMillan!"

Farrah turned to the group and started walking over to them with a smile, "Boys."

"Why do you look like you've been digging in the trash?" James asked.

"Well, I had to," Farrah answered, "How else would Remus and Peter have gotten something to wear for the match?"

"Hey!" Remus and Peter said in unison.

James shook his head, "Get ready to lose."

"Never going to happen."

"You really have so much faith in your team?" James asked.

Farrah shrugged, "I just have that little faith in yours."

"Okay, okay," Sirius interjected, standing up so he could be in the middle of James and Farrah, "Girls, you're both pretty. Let's save this fire for the pitch."

James sat back down without a word. Sirius turned to Farrah with a small smile on his face, earning a larger one from the Muggleborn. He reached out and adjusted the flag on her shoulders before turning the tie so it was out of her face.

"People are staring," Farrah whispered.

"Let them," Sirius replied. He twirled her silver hair in between his fingers and then let it fall to her shoulders, "It looks good on you."

Farrah blushed, but the green paint covering her skin hid it. She smiled at him, "Thank you."

"You'll come celebrate with us after the match?"

She rose an eyebrow, "That confident you'll win?"

"We'll be celebrating either way," Sirius said, stretching to hold the girl's hand, "Or, we could do something. Usual place, usual time, just us."

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