A/N: Yeah, I wish I owned Harry Potter and all of J.K. Rowling's charming, COPYRIGHTED characters. Who knows what I could do if I did :P Characters and setting are copyright J.K. Rowling; plot is mine. Just giving credit and love where it's due. Pssst-all the names you don't recognize are mine :P Like his Quidditch teammates and opponents...and those Quidditch terms are in Quidditch Throughout the Ages.

Pffft. This is my first one. Tell if if you love or loathe, I'm open to criticism and any reviews. Will be updated frequently :D

PSSST - this first chapter's probably boring, but it'll get better. Promise :P

[edit] Thanks, oobergoober; I knew James was Chaser but tried to portray him as a Seeker so he sort of had a view like Harry's; but I changed it, I think I do like him as a chaser better :) And yes, those other techincal points...fixed them up. Thanks for your review :)





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"There he goes with the Quaffle--ducks right under Gaveny--excellent dodging from that Bludger, those Slytherin Beaters are getting quite vicious--and he scores!"

He bolted around the airspace on his broom, smiling. He tried to forget that that was Gryffindor's first score in the game--Slytherin had already scored one hundred and seventy points.

It shouldn't've been that way. Slytherin was playing the dirty game that year--Gryffindor earned penalties from the Slytherin team's interference, including fouls on Quaffle-pocking (they had punctured it so that it fell more quickly), stooging, and haversacking, just to name a few. At one point, the Slytherin Seeker dove straight at Keeper Jonathan Harrow, claiming to have seen the Snitch by his stomach, causing Harrow to duck at the last moment and cause Slytherin to score. They must have had at least a dozen opportunities to score, but the other Chasers, Vijay Rajah and Catalina Mercado, were so angry that they missed the goal posts.

As the game resumed the atmosphere grew more tense and hostile. The Sevenrock sisters, Marielle and Arlene, were two burly and incredibly strong sixth years. They were zooming around the field, whacking the Bludgers furiously with their clubs, watching with glee as they rammed into figures clad in green.

"Better get a move on, James, before Dave finds the Snitch," Marielle said through gritted teeth as she hit a pelting Bludger toward an opposing Chaser. "They're one hundred and sixty points ahead."

He flew below Lana Colella, who had dropped the Quaffle, and  pulled up sharply, zooming toward Catalina. He reverse-passed it to her, and she dropped the ball to Vijay inches away from the post, allowing him to score.

"Wonderful Porskoff Ploy by Miss Mercado there, and Rajah scores—Gryffinor behind by one hundred and fifty points—"

James couldn't hear the tiny witch doing the commentary. His eyes were fixed on David Morgan, who was diving at an alarming rate. Is he Feinting? Dammit, please let it be a Feint—

He didn't pull out. James's stomach churned as he headed to a green-robed figure with a red ball tucked under her arm. Stupid Lana. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Bludger coming up fast behind him. He grinned, ducked, and stretched out his hands in anticipation as Lana was hit again.

"Another hit for Colella, and another spectacular catch by Potter—wait, what's Morgan doing—?"

James shut the sound out from his ears, subconsciously dodging the Bludgers and clubs that the desperate Slytherin Beaters had thrown. He flew up toward the goal post, raised his arm, and—

"GRYFFINDOR SCORES!" cried the little witch, her hat askew, "TRAILING BY HUNDRED AND FORTY—OH MY—"

At that moment, Dave lunged from his broom and grabbed the Snitch.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP BY TEN POINTS! SNITCH CAUGHT BY MORGAN SECONDS AFTER POTTER SCORES THE GAME WINNING TEN POINTS—"

James flew around the stadium, his arm raised, screaming some victorious chant that he didn't quite understand himself. He landed on the ground, and with his teammates he dog piled Dave, laughing as he and Dave held the cup high.

He was enveloped in a swarm of red robes, watching scarlet-striped scarves and pennants being tossed into the air in celebration before being surrounded by his team and fellow Gryffindors.

" Potter and Morgan's plays, they brilliant!"

"Great match, chap! Mariana owes be fifteen Ga—erm, congratulations!"

"WE'VE WON THE QUIDDITCH CUP-"

"-and the House Cup, for sure-"

His black hair was damp with sweat and untidy as usual, his forehead dotted with beads of perspiration. He was exhausted, but his dark brown eyes glittered with delight and a bit of embarrassment as his teammates lifted him onto their shoulders, the Quidditch cup held firmly in his hands. Still, his disheveled state made him no less appealing.

"PARTY IN THE COMMON ROOM!"

James Potter smiled, a bit dazed and confused, but happy nonetheless, completely oblivious to the pretty red-haired girl that watched him through scornful yet curious green eyes.