A/N OK, this is my SECOND story and I know everyone's done this SOOOO many
times B4 but just read mine, it's as original as possible! (Sorry if u
recognise anything) and pllleeeeaaassseeee R&R!!!! Just read it! (
CHAPTER 1
"SCORE!" Came the triumphant cry of James Potter. He was naturally talented at Quidditch along with several other things, keeping himself tidy, apparently was not one of them. 'I really don't know who he inherited it from!' His mother would mutter as she tried with fail to tame his wild, dark head. He was quite short and skinny for the average eleven year old, and had dark eyes. He whirled around on his broomstick to face his father. "Score please?" He would grin. Even though his father refused to play quidditch anymore, he had still been appointed referee (from the ground) and score keeper.
"Yeah but you cheated!" Muttered Ben Arricot from next door. James wouldn't have been playing with the silly nine year old if his other friend, Oliver White, who was already at Hogwarts hadn't been away in France. He wouldn't play with any of the other children in his village, the rest were muggles and neither knew nor cared what quidditch was.
"I never cheat." James proudly announced, turning to the goal post and waiting expectantly for his father to release the snitch.
"This is a stupid game." Ben declared. "The rules are daft, not surprising since we're twelve members short and you almost knocked me off my broomstick earlier with your club!"
"It's quite difficult to catch a quaffle and hit a bludger at the same time." James snarled through gritted teeth.
"Surely not for England's best quidditch player?" Ben questioned unwisely.
James threw his beater club at him. Bulls eye! It his him squarely in the nose before falling into his mother's freshly planted bush of honeysuckle, snapping the frail stems apart. He turned back to Ben who had blood pouring down his face, though he was trying hard to hide his tears. "JAMES!" Roared his father but he took no notice.
"Ooh! Scary!" Whined Ben; sniffing and trying to act like the shot didn't hurt him. He did know how to wind someone up, that was for sure!
"Yeah, it was supposed to be."
"Well you failed then didn't you? Learn to recognise sarcasm." Ben sniffed again.
His father was still calling up to him, though his threats were non existent since they were more than twelve feet apart but again he ignored it. He had always had a bad temper. Especially when provoked.
"Buzz off Ben." James muttered, trying to gain control over his rapidly growing rage. He shouldn't have invited him over. He was only as a last resort really.
"James get down here NOW!" His father yelled up again.
"Fine." Ben snapped. "Good luck when you're playing for the county! From all your violations you'll make the score minus 50 to 150." He was now trying to stem the flow of his swelling nose.
"Thanks. Yep, I always dreamed I'd catch the snitch after the others had fifty penalties."
"Oh you're so funny!" Ben snapped, flying down to Earth and throwing the club and quaffle on the ground. "Thanks Mr and Mrs Potter, shame your son can't be as welcoming as you." The pair of them cried words of apology after him but Ben didn't turn and with that he had left the garden, James hovering uncertainly in the air, after one of the worst Quidditch matches he had ever played in. Reluctantly and unwillingly he flew down to his fuming parents, already feeling ashamed of his outburst. Well Ben Arricot was not welcome at number 8 Sarvin Square ever again.
CHAPTER 1
"SCORE!" Came the triumphant cry of James Potter. He was naturally talented at Quidditch along with several other things, keeping himself tidy, apparently was not one of them. 'I really don't know who he inherited it from!' His mother would mutter as she tried with fail to tame his wild, dark head. He was quite short and skinny for the average eleven year old, and had dark eyes. He whirled around on his broomstick to face his father. "Score please?" He would grin. Even though his father refused to play quidditch anymore, he had still been appointed referee (from the ground) and score keeper.
"Yeah but you cheated!" Muttered Ben Arricot from next door. James wouldn't have been playing with the silly nine year old if his other friend, Oliver White, who was already at Hogwarts hadn't been away in France. He wouldn't play with any of the other children in his village, the rest were muggles and neither knew nor cared what quidditch was.
"I never cheat." James proudly announced, turning to the goal post and waiting expectantly for his father to release the snitch.
"This is a stupid game." Ben declared. "The rules are daft, not surprising since we're twelve members short and you almost knocked me off my broomstick earlier with your club!"
"It's quite difficult to catch a quaffle and hit a bludger at the same time." James snarled through gritted teeth.
"Surely not for England's best quidditch player?" Ben questioned unwisely.
James threw his beater club at him. Bulls eye! It his him squarely in the nose before falling into his mother's freshly planted bush of honeysuckle, snapping the frail stems apart. He turned back to Ben who had blood pouring down his face, though he was trying hard to hide his tears. "JAMES!" Roared his father but he took no notice.
"Ooh! Scary!" Whined Ben; sniffing and trying to act like the shot didn't hurt him. He did know how to wind someone up, that was for sure!
"Yeah, it was supposed to be."
"Well you failed then didn't you? Learn to recognise sarcasm." Ben sniffed again.
His father was still calling up to him, though his threats were non existent since they were more than twelve feet apart but again he ignored it. He had always had a bad temper. Especially when provoked.
"Buzz off Ben." James muttered, trying to gain control over his rapidly growing rage. He shouldn't have invited him over. He was only as a last resort really.
"James get down here NOW!" His father yelled up again.
"Fine." Ben snapped. "Good luck when you're playing for the county! From all your violations you'll make the score minus 50 to 150." He was now trying to stem the flow of his swelling nose.
"Thanks. Yep, I always dreamed I'd catch the snitch after the others had fifty penalties."
"Oh you're so funny!" Ben snapped, flying down to Earth and throwing the club and quaffle on the ground. "Thanks Mr and Mrs Potter, shame your son can't be as welcoming as you." The pair of them cried words of apology after him but Ben didn't turn and with that he had left the garden, James hovering uncertainly in the air, after one of the worst Quidditch matches he had ever played in. Reluctantly and unwillingly he flew down to his fuming parents, already feeling ashamed of his outburst. Well Ben Arricot was not welcome at number 8 Sarvin Square ever again.