Summary: James Potter finds himself at the brink of a promising Quidditch career in the midst of a burgeoning war and his final year of magical schooling. When he is forced to choose between his Quidditch dreams and Lily, will James realize that while Quidditch leaves his head in the clouds, maybe what he needed all along was someone to keep him grounded?


Disclaimer: The characters, setting, background story, etc. all belong to JK Rowling.


Chapter 1

Cirrus


Cirrus clouds are thin and wispy, composed of ice, and are high in the sky.


"Ready?"

"Ready."

James Potter tucked his Quaffle under his arm as his father spun his wand, charming six Bludgers to fly at him simultaneously.

James shot forward, spiraling out of the way of the first bludger, turning his broom sideways to avoid the second. Four to go. The hoops at the end of the pitch grew larger as James streaked towards them. The third and fourth bludger approached him from either side. He dived toward the ground to evade them, and swerved sharply to the left as the fifth bludger hurtled in his direction.

James grinned. One to go. He transferred the Quaffle from his armpit to his hands just as the sixth bludger appeared out of nowhere. James ducked just in time; he could feel the Bludger ruffling his untidy black hair. Shit.

James swore as he turned a corkscrew before chucking the Quaffle perfectly through the middle hoop. James landed on the grass in front of his father. Charlus Potter crossed his arms.

"What in bloody hell was that?" he demanded, prodding James in the chest with his wand.

Despite the fact that his father was now a good two inches shorter than him, James couldn't help but feel rather small in front of his furious father. "It was that last bludger...I couldn't see it coming." he muttered.

"You didn't see it coming." Charlus repeated, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his graying eyebrows. "You didn't SEE IT COMING?! Now you tell me, how are you ever going to make a decent team if you don't see the bloody bludger coming?"

James clenched his teeth as his father continued to yell. How could he have made such a fundamental mistake? They were doing Bludger drills for Merlin's sake! If he couldn't watch a Bludger when that was all he had to worry about, how could he expect to watch them when he was playing in an actual game?

Finally, Charlus sighed. "Son," he said softly.

James shifted his gaze from the ground to his father's face.

"You have potential, James. I was on track to make it to the big leagues. Then I had my injury," Charlus rubbed his shoulder wryly. "but you, James, there is nothing that is going to stop you, son. Nothing."

Charlus clapped James on the back and headed back across the sloping lawns towards the Potter mansion.

James climbed back onto his broom for one last fly around the pitch. Quidditch practices with his father always left him in need of a moment to himself. James found his thoughts drifting back to when it all began. The day James had told his father he wanted to play professional Quidditch, he had been seven years old. James would never forget the proud grin that spread across his father's face.

Charlus had refused to hire a coach for James, choosing instead to train James himself. Ten years of his father's incessant 5 AM practices during school vacations had made James quite the player. And he knew it.

And yet...James thought as he landed lightly on the grass, kicking the turf angrily, his father held him to impossibly high standards. Since that day when James decided to be a professional Quidditch player, no matter how hard he tried, James had never been able to bring that proud smile back onto his father's face.

James shouldered his broom and headed towards the house.

"Hey mate, how was Quidditch practice?" called Sirius lazily, lounging in a chair at the table, plate piled high with food.

James punched Sirius lightly on the shoulder in response and gave his mother a one armed hug. "Good morning, Mum."

Dorea smiled at her only son, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "Eat any less and I swear you'll blow away," she teased, handing James a plate of food.

"Oh no he won't," muttered Charlus from behind the latest copy of The Daily Prophet. "He would have made a fantastic seeker...then he cracked a hundred and thirty pounds." Charlus looked up from the paper to glare at James.

"It's all muscle, Dad," James grumbled, taking a big bite of toast. "Thanks to you." he added under his breath.

"James worries more about his weight than a girl," Sirius commented grinning, tilting his chair back on two legs. James aimed a kick at him under the table.

"With good reason, too" Charlus added. "He would have made an amazing Seeker, I tell you..."

"Okay, Dad, we get it." James said, fed up.

"Boys, boys." Dorea said calmingly. "Look what came in the post today."

She held up two familiar envelopes, one addressed to Sirius and the other to James in emerald ink. She passed them to Sirius.

"The last ones we'll ever get, can you believe this?" James murmured, feeling strangely nostalgic as he took in the Hogwarts crest stamped into the wax seal.

"Hey." Sirius said, weighing the envelopes in his hands, "yours is heavier than mine."

"That'll be the Quidditch Captain's Badge, I expect," Charlus said, turning to the Sports section of the Prophet.

But Sirius had already begun tearing open James's envelope.

"Oi! That's mine!" James said in mock annoyance.

"There-There must be a mistake." Sirius said, eyes wide, staring into James's envelope.

"Don't tell me they didn't give him Quidditch Captain!" cried Charlus, suddenly concerned.

"Charlus!" scolded Dorea, "I'm sure there are plenty of other capable captains!"

"No. No that's not it," Sirius said, laughing. "Get a load of this."

Sirius threw something scarlet and shiny across the table to James. James examined it. He saw now that it was a badge. Emblazoned across it in gold letters were the words-

"Head Boy?!" cried Dorea, hands over her mouth in surprise and awe.

"Impossible." said Charlus, lifting his head from the Daily Prophet.

"I'll bet Moony sent it to mess with us." Sirius guffawed. "A step up from his usual pranks, I'll admit, but not good enough to fool us!"

"Yeah I bet," James agreed, tossing the badge onto the table. He had been stupid to think, even for a moment, that he had actually been Head Boy. He hadn't even been a prefect, how could he get Head Boy? Not to mention the record setting amount of detentions he had racked up. There was no way Dumbledore would ever give him Head Boy. Although he would never admit it, James's heart sank slightly in disappointment. Especially since Head Girl would undoubtedly go to...

James shook his head slightly to clear it. This was his last year at Hogwarts. He was going to play pranks and Quidditch without any other care in the world, besides NEWTs, but he would tackle those when he came to them. James reached for the envelope and fished inside for his letter. As he pulled the sheet of parchment from the envelope, a more delicate piece of paper covered in loopy script fell from within it.

Mr. Potter,

I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected to be this year's Head Boy. Although I am aware you have never been a prefect and your past behavior has been questionable to say the least, I have faith in your ability to lead and your dedication to your house and your school. Please journey to the Head's Carriage on the Hogwarts Express on September the 1st to discuss your duties with myself and your fellow Head Student.

Yours,

Albus Dumbledore

There was no denying Professor Dumbledore's handwriting and mannerism. James bit back a smile.

"I knew you could do it!" exclaimed Dorea excitedly, ruffling James's hair.

"YES!" yelled Sirius, "Now we can dock points from the Slytherins whenever we want to, and we can play pranks without getting punished now we've got both Remus and you as Prefect and Head Boy!"

"Now Sirius," said Dorea sternly, "you boys behave, you hear?"

"Sure thing, Dorea," Sirius said, waving her off affectionately. Dorea sighed hopelessly.

James stared at the note, a slight smile on his face. "Who d'you reckon is Head Girl?" he asked in what he thought to be a casual manner.

"Who d'you reckon?" Sirius echoed grinning. "James you liar. You know as well as I do who'll be Head Girl."

James feigned innocence. "Who?"

Sirius laughed. "Lily Evans, of course. I'll bet you're looking forward to spending all that time alone with her during all those head meetings...and patrols..."

"Lily Evans?" Dorea interrupted smiling. "The red-headed muggle-born one?"

"You mean the one James is crazy about? The one he talks about all the time?" Sirius added gleefully. James sent him a particularly vicious kick beneath the table.

"Don't tell me you're still interested in this girl, James." Charlus said suddenly, fixing James with a penetrating stare. "You don't need distractions at this point. Think of Puddlemere!"

"Well she's a very sweet girl," said Dorea anyway.

"You've never even met her!" Charlus exclaimed.

"Well the way James always talks about her..."

"This is exactly the kind of thing that could throw off James's entire career! And for what? Some girl!"

"When you've all finished discussing my love life," James interrupted loudly, "Sirius and I are going to Diagon Alley to catch up with Remus and Peter."

James and Sirius rose.

"I want you back on the pitch in an hour. Seems that you need more practice than I thought." Charlus said, pulling the paper back in front of his face.

"Sure, Dad." James said carelessly, shoving open the door.

The sun glinted unexpectedly brightly off of the Head Boy's badge still in James's hand. He glanced at it, thinking ridiculously of the matching one undoubtedly meant for Lily. Perhaps she was holding it in her hand at this very moment, wondering who was Head Boy...

"Oi, Lover Boy! Are we going or what?" Sirius's voice jolted James out of his stupor.

"Coming, Padfoot, you git." James grinned and dropped the badge carefully in his pocket.

"Let's go."


Author's Note: Following the amazing bout of writer's block I suffered for the past six months-okay, nearly a year-I've managed to begin a new, hopefully much more interesting story.

Fun Fact: The chapter titles for this story are going to be mostly types of clouds, and will reflect the amount of trouble/how heavy each chapter is. The better the weather, the happier the chapter. The more troublesome the weather...well, the more troublesome the chapter! Happy reading :)

Stay tuned for the next chapter, hopefully soon.

So tell me how I did! Be it good, bad, horrible, or unbearable REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Thank you.

Yours,

VictoryNike

6/19/13