DISCLAIMER: This disclaimer stands for the entire story. I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. All recognizable characters, concepts, and places are property of J.K. Rowling. I don't own anything but my own characters.

Title: The Rules of Rivals

Pairing: James Sirius Potter/OC (Phoebe Erickson)

Updated: 6/30/10

Words: 4095

Alright, I have been working on this story for a while now, and I finally decided to post it. It's my very first Harry Potter fanfic, and I hope everyone likes it. I think it's fun and quirky, but hey, I'm the author. By all means, make your own opinion.

This story is (as the title implies) about the rivalry between James Sirius Potter and Phoebe Alyssa Despina Erickson. Which, actually, might not be so much of a rivalry. You'll see...

"Phoebe! Mum says that if you aren't down here soon, we're going to be last for the train!"

I sighed. Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I looked at my trunk once more. Everything was neatly laid out, my prefect and Quidditch Captain badges laid out carefully on top of my robes that I would change into. I was a sixth year Ravenclaw, and last year I had been received the two badges, much to my delight. If there was one thing I was insane about, it was Quidditch. Most of the time, I was very rational; there were only a few things that I felt strongly about that made me lose my calm demeanor.

Grabbing my trunk, I took one look in the full-length mirror in my room. My curly brown hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and my dark blue eyes were the same as ever. I dragged my packed stuff towards the stairs, where my younger brother, Thomas, took it. He was a fifteen-year-old genius, much smarter than me.

My mother rushed us out the door, her black hair flying behind hers. It was rather like mine, just a darker shade. My mother was a hundred percent Greek, and my father was a hundred percent Norwegian. My father had light blond hair, and my brown curls were about right in between my parents hair colors.

My mother quickly drove her muggle car to King's Cross Station. She was muggle-born, and although she hadn't learned how to drive a car as a teenager, she had taught herself later. Once there, were grabbed carts and loaded our trunks onto them. Nyx, my brother's owl, and Beckett, my cat were loaded on too.

"You two first," my father said, motioning for Thomas and I to go ahead. We ran through the barrier, a familiar sight greeting us. The Hogwarts Express gleamed a bright red. Thomas waited with me as our parents came through. My mother swept me into a hug.

"Have a great year, hon. Always do your homework, and don't neglect your prefect duties because of Quidditch. Tell all of your friends I said hello. I love you."

"I love you too." I released my mother, smiling softly. I was fairly close with my parents for a sixteen-year-old (no teenage rebellion for me), and they meant a lot to me. I always felt a bit depressed at the station. Once we got to Hogwarts, it wasn't so bad, but right now my heart hurt. We were a very close family, seeing as we had no cousins except for my mother's brother's children, who lived in Greece.

I moved onto my father, as my brother switched with me. "Bye, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you too. Don't listen to what your mother says. Quidditch is way more important than school. If my daughter wants to be a professional player when she leaves school, she's got to win the Cup, right? Kick that James Potter's arse."

I smiled at him. "Oh, you can bet on that. James Potter is an absolute idiot. His plays aren't nearly as tactical as mine. Gryffindor has no chance. Not with my team this year. I'm already pretty sure of everyone who will be playing. We're stronger than ever. Of course, Jiznik will probably make me hold try-outs, but still..."

My father laughed heartily. Sometimes he reminded me of a Viking, with his broad shoulders and his abnormal height. My father stood at 6'6, and was eleven inches taller than my mother. I was 5'8, and Thomas was still growing. He already stood at 6'0, and was growing more handsome by the day. I had no doubt that soon enough, despite his awkwardness with them, girls would be following him around like lost puppies.

After our family's goodbyes, Thomas and I stayed together to look for our friends. Because of Thomas' crazy intelligence, was in my grade. Since we were both sorted into the same house, he was a part of our group of sixth year Ravenclaws.

It wasn't long before Kali Marre, my best friend, found us. "Phoebe Alyssa Despina! Thomas !"

Oh, yeah. About Kali...she always greets me with my full names. She takes particular pleasure in saying it, simply because all of my names (save my last) are Greek, which Kali finds highly amusing, and I find highly irritating. My parents thought it would be neat. But hey, I didn't choose my name. At least it wasn't as insane as other wizard names. Some of the pureblood wizards insist on ridiculous family traditions with odd names. Phoebe is a fairly normal name, which I am supremely thankful for.

I smiled at my blonde friend. She was four inches shorter than me, and her eyes were an amber color. She was in Ravenclaw, but tended to slack off a bit more than the rest of us. Sometimes I think she belonged in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, like the rest of her family, but then she was the first (or second, depending on Thomas) to do a particularly difficult spell, or she came up with a brilliant play for Quidditch, and I was reminded of her genius.

Oh, another thing: Kali can't play Quidditch. She's terrified of heights, feels sick, and can't handle a broom right. She refused to take broom flying lessons after the first few in our first year, when she fell off at least five times in each class and was sent to the Hospital Wing each time, accompanied by a worried Madam Hooch. Despite that, she's amazing at coming up with plays. We work on them together late a night in our dorms sometimes.

She also loves the sport. She knows every rule, maneuver, and trick. Kali is the commentator for school games.

"Let's find the others," I said. The three of us looked around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. We found our friend Aidan first, with his parents, and then Tiva and Shayden, who were actually looking for us.

"We have less than ten minutes before the train leaves," Tiva said, flipping her dark red hair over her shoulder. "I bet the others already found a couple compartments for us. Let's go."

We boarded the train and started moving down the aisle, looking for the other three in our group. It must have been close to eleven o'clock once we found them, seated comfortably inside, luggage already packed. Once we walked in, the guys all put our luggage away. Some of it went in the compartment right across the aisle, which Brent, Rhys, and Aaliyah had saved for us. Although we had separate compartments, we continuously visited the others.

After settling in, I sighed heavily. "Sorry, everyone, I have to go to the prefect's meeting. I'll see all of you later." My four friends rolled their eyes and smiled at me. Once outside my compartment, I found Rhys waiting for me to go to the meeting with him. His auburn hair sat neatly on his head, gleaming softly. He smiled at me, motioning for me to go first.

Ah...Rhys. We dated last year. We're both prefects, and we're both Quidditch players. We're very similar people. Everyone seemed to expect it. It seemed natural. Unfortunately, it turned out that we're too alike anyways. It wasn't that interesting. We always sort of knew what to expect from each other, which might be nice if you're, like, eighty, but not when you're a teenager. We split last March and agreed to remain friends.

On the way to the prefect's meeting, however, we were interrupted. By a certain James Potter.

Now, if you haven't guessed, I don't like James Potter. He's an arrogant prick, and also my rival ever since first year, when he pushed me into the Black Lake and I cursed him. He's (disgustingly) the most popular guy in school. I suppose you could call him handsome, what with his height (6'2 or so), messy black hair, hazel eyes, and Quidditch muscles. He's the self-proclaimed "leader" of the "Weasley-Potter clan", the extensive close-knit group of cousins and siblings. His best friend was his cousin Fred Weasley II. The two of them were incredible trouble-makers. As a prefect, I had caught them more than breaking the rules.

Even though James is absolutely horrid, his entire family isn't bad. His younger brother, Al, occasionally gets in trouble, as does his younger sister, Lily. Their cousin, Rose, is a stickler for rules, but her younger brother, Hugo, follows James around like a lapdog. Louis Weasley, resident player, second only to James himself, doesn't really get in trouble, and neither does his sister, Dominique. But they're both terrible flirts. My favorites are Roxanne Weasley, who despite her brother, is a really nice person, and Lucy Weasley, who I consider a good friend, even if she's a year below me.

But back to the point. James is a toerag. I hate him.

"Hello, Erickson. Well, don't you look chipper this morning. I imagine my good looks have lifted your spirits. I know that I feel better once I look at myself in mirror every morning." He grinned.

I raised an eyebrow. "Hilarious, Potter. I'm doubling over in laughter." I brushed past him. "Come on, Rhys. I could think of a hundred things I'd rather be doing than talking to James Potter."

A bunch of James' cronies chorused "Ooh, challenge!" at my response.

Okay, so I'm sort of a bitch to James. You would be too if you had been sent to the Hospital Wing twenty times by him. The only thing we shared was a mutual hatred for the other. I couldn't stand him, he couldn't stand me, but he sure loved to drive me insane. It's a nice little arrangement we have, don't you agree?

James grinned. "I guess some people don't appreciate the finer things in life, eh?" I slammed the door to the prefects compartment in his face.

A few hours later I arrived back in my original compartment to find that all of the others were already there. "Room for two more?" Rhys joked. Shayden grinned and sat on Thomas' lap, who sat next to her.

"Now there is," she stated simply. I sat down in an empty seat next to the entrance while Rhys took Shayden's old spot. I looked at my brother, who looked somewhat uncomfortable, if not particularly against the situation. I smiled knowingly at him, just to piss him off. Thomas rolled his eyes at me.

My brother and I had mastered the art of speaking to each other through actions years ago. We were born only thirteen months apart, and had grown up very close, despite our differences. See, the thing is, even though Thomas is an incredibly talented wizard, but he's very hot-headed. He gets angry about little, unimportant things sometimes. That's where we very different, and why I'm the only prefect in our family.

But he was my little brother. And he wasn't nearly as annoying as most little brothers are.

"Phoebe...?" Aidan asked, waving a hand in front of my face. My cheeks tinted pink. Obviously I had missed a question or something.

"Sorry," I apologized. "I had to deal with a third-year Slytherin cursing a sweet, little Hufflepuff girl, and James Potter almost sending me to the Hospital Wing again. I hate that idiot..."

Kali rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we know. Remember the time when he pushed you off of your broom? I mean, it wasn't even a real game. Just a scrimmage..."

I groaned. "It's hard to forget falling from over a hundred feet up. Thank god for Rhys."

"You know," Brent started, "we could just beat him up if you wanted us to. The four of us could easily-"

"Thanks, guys, I'm good."

Boys. Brent was the type of person whose motto was "Act now, think later." He didn't like Potter either, not since third year when Potter had been the best hippogriff flyer. You can't really blame him. Brent's parents travel all over the world studying magical creatures. They went on long hikes through crazy swamps over breaks. Brent knew just about every magical animal that existed.

Still, it's a bit stupid of a grudge to hold. Not that I'd do anything about it.

I tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Aaliyah say, "You know, Potter's friends aren't that bad, so maybe he's not. I mean, if you judge a person by the type of company they keep. Lorcan and Lysander Scamander are actually really nice, even though they fight with each other a lot." She shrugged her shoulders.

Aaliyah is probably the most unique looking person I know. In a good way. She's sort of exotically beautiful. Her skin is caramel colored and her hair is black. Her mother is half Native American, and decided to travel to Europe, where she met Aaliyah's dad who, much to her surprise, was a wizard. You can tell she has some Native American blood in her.

"It doesn't matter," Tiva said. "James Potter himself is a total prat. He thinks he's really cool just because his father is Harry Potter."

"Yeah," I said dryly, "he's not the only one who thinks that. How they follow him around like sheep disgusts me."

Rhys groaned. "If all you're going to do is talk about James Potter, you might as well go join his fan club."

I pulled a face. "Ugh. Gag me."

"So," Aidan said, easing into a new topic. "The U.K.'s Quidditch team seems pretty strong this year. What d'ya think the chances are of it making it to the Cup?"

I snorted. "Slim. Victor Krum is coaching Bulgaria this year. Even though our team was put together really well, there's no way of beating Italy's team. You can hardly see them when they fly, they're so fast. So, we have to beat Bulgaria. We need a better coach. Len Golding is getting a little too old to interact and connect with his team really well."

There was silence for a moment. "Way to be a buzzkill," Tiva muttered.

I shrugged, grinning apologetically. "Sorry. Just stating the facts."

There was a silence for a moment. "...Wow, I can't believe we already have nothing to say," Shayden said, twirling her silky black ponytail. "Um...oh! What did you all get on your O.W.L.s? And what classes are you taking?"

Being sixth year Ravenclaws, we all got pretty good grades. The lowest were Tiva's P in Astronomy and Brent's P History of Magic. Thomas, of course, got the best grades (all O's), but most of us only got a few grades worse than that, and we all had at least four O's.

I took every class I could without having too full of a schedule. I got O's in Transfiguration, Potions, DADA, Herbology, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures. I got E's in the rest of my classes (Arithmancy, History of Magic, Astronomy), except for Charms, which I had always been awful at. I got a passable A in that class.

Anyways, we were all planning on continuing Transfiguration, DADA, and Potions. Charms, too, if I would be able too. I was also planning on dropping only History of Magic and Astronomy. My schedule would be full, taking the amount of classes people studying for O.W.L.s usually did, especially with Quidditch. But I didn't know what job I wanted, so I was trying to keep my options open. Besides, I rather enjoyed most of my classes.

I bit my lip. "I really worried that Professor Valena might not let me continue with Charms. I mean, an A isn't that good. Most of the teachers want at least an E..."

The others smiled at me, but Thomas looked kind of awkward. He didn't really have to worry about not getting to do any classes He could become Minister of Magic someday, if he really wanted to. He lacks the social skills, but he's so bloody brilliant, no one would care.

"Well," Kali said, "I couldn't be more relieved to not be doing Herbology again. I always get a ton of dirt on my robes, and we always had classes right after..."

We all rolled our eyes. Kali was great at Herbology. (She got an O, I have no clue why she wasn't taking the class.) Nevertheless, she hated plants and dirt. I suppose it was kind of the opposite with me and Charms. I loved the class, but I was awful at it. I suppose that's life for you.

Rhys and I had missed the trolley, so the others shared some candy with us. After we ate, the boys went back to their compartment, and we all sat comfortably, with a lot more room. We talked about each of our summers until the end of the ride. Tiva had a family reunion in Russia, and it was apparently very eventful, because her cousin was engaged to some family rival and Tiva's aunt and uncle were furious.

Shayden and Aaliyah had spent the summer vacationing together in Spain. ("I'm so jealous of your tan!") We had originally all planned on going, but none of the rest of us could go. Still, we encouraged them to have fun because otherwise they'd be sitting around all summer, which none of us wanted. We were still planning on all going somewhere together, maybe after graduation.

Kali spent her break in Ireland, with family. I had been at her house once when she had all of her relatives over, and I swear, there are a least forty of them. It was quite the event. It happened every other summer, which Kali insisted was far to often to deal with her "bloody younger cousins."

As for me... Well, Thomas and I had been visiting our favorite relatives in Greece, so I had a nice tan, for once. My skin was fair because of my father and the fact that I've lived in the U.K. my entire life, but I tanned easily. I missed the warm sea breeze and the beautiful cities. I've always loved Greece, and still wonder to this day why my mother left it. I thought it was rather calming and refreshing, not to mention gorgeous. I can't imagine why she'd ever think about leaving. It's probably because I've never lived that I love it so much.

I felt the train come to a stop, and we met with the boys and started to walk towards the carriages. We were all laughing at a joke Aidan made, when an annoying voice behind me called, "Erickson, I think you're missing something!"

I spun around at the sound of James Potter's voice, only to find him surrounded by his usual group—Fred, Lorcan, and Lysander. He was holding a bag, which, I realized, with a dull thud in my stomach, was mine. My eyes opened wide.

"Potter, I don't know how in the world you managed to get that, but give it back! It's mine!"

"You didn't particularly seem to care for it when you left it in the prefects compartment," Potter replied lazily. I furrowed my eyebrows. Potter wasn't a prefect, so how could he have gotten my bag. I realized a moment later that Lysander Scamander must have stolen it for him.

I turned to the blonde, anger on my face, although I was silently counting to ten in my head, trying to remain calm. "Lysander, how could you?" I asked, proud of my reasonable voice. "You're a prefect; this is against the rules!"

Potter scoffed. "Yeah, Lys, how could you?" he questioned in a falsetto. He rolled his eyes. He started to open my bag, shuffling through its contents. Thomas stepped towards him, crossing his arms menacingly and glaring. I mentioned that our father looked like a Viking, right? Well, Thomas inherited his impressive build, but James was the same size as him, although perhaps a tad taller. I hoped this wouldn't become physical.

"Give it back, Potter," Thomas growled. Potter just grinned.

"Getting people to fight for you, Erickson? That won't help you on the Quidditch field!"

"That is it!" I snarled. "Accio Phoebe's bag!" My bag came flying towards me as I stepped towards Potter and came to stand next to Thomas. My navy eyes glaring fiercely, I said, "Next time I win, it's going to be on the Quidditch pitch. No chance in hell I'm going to lose to a low-life like you!"

As I walked away, I couldn't help but be surprised by Potter's lack of response.

The Great Hall was packed with students, and the first years were anxiously waiting to be sorted. They looked nervous as the Sorting Hat sang, and maybe a little frightened. I smiled at a little raven-haired girl who looked in my direction. She hesitantly smiled back. Who says I'm always mean? I was a first year once, I know how it feels. Your Hogwarts House can determine so much in your future, and the kids seemed to understand what a huge impact on your life it could have.

I turned to Thomas. "You ready?"

Every year, we tried to guess which House each first year would be sorted into. I was a good judge of character. (The key is the small things. Slytherins are the hardest; they're the best actors, most of the time.) Usually I was right, sometimes Thomas was, and rarely neither of us were. The other liked to place bets on which of us was right. Almost everyone sided with me.

Thomas grinned. "You're on."

Finally, the sorting started with "Alterra, Silena!" Surprisingly, the girl I smiled at walked up quite confidently. Gryffindor, or maybe Ravenclaw. I told my friends so. The hat sat on her head for almost a minute...

"RAVENCLAW!" She slipped the hat off, relieved it was over, and looked for me. I smiled at her, even though Thomas won.

Two girls after Silena was sorted into Hufflepuff, and I guessed those right. Next was a Gryffindor, whom Thomas got. After that there was a cocky Slytherin boy, an inquisitive-looking Ravenclaw boy, and a Slytherin girl who looked like she was planning something. I won all those.

The sorting ended with "Yuvel, Roger!" being sorted into Slytherin. I had twenty-two, and Thomas had sixteen. I smiled. Victory once more.

After that we enjoyed the feast, talking animatedly about...well, actually, mostly we just ate. You'd be surprised how tiring sitting on a train all day can be.

Rhys and I didn't need to lead the first years up to the dorms, but we followed behind. A bunch of tired second, third, and forth years followed us, but most older kids stayed up a bit later to talk and just hang out. I think it makes them feel cooler and more mature. By the time the feast is over, I always just want to go to bed.

I walked up the stairs into my dorm room that I shared with Kali, Tiva, Shayden, and Aaliyah. Spotting my trunk at the end of my bed, I changed into my pajamas and climbed into my bed, taking out a book to wait until my friends showed up. I scratched behind Beckett's ears, and he curled up against me.

I put away my book when my friends entered, and we all fell asleep soon after, trying to get enough sleep before tomorrow morning when we would have to get up early for classes.

Next Chapter...

... "James! Don't we have a plan to go through with?" Oh right, my evil plan ...

... Oh, Erickson, you're doomed. There's no coming back from this ...

... "August 17th, 2021" ...

... Secret crush, bashing Hufflepuffs, filthy cheating ...

... "James, I just saw Phoebe Erickson run up to the Ravenclaw tower, sobbing. What did you do?" ...

Until next time, my pretties! Please review!