A/N: I really enjoyed writing this story, so I decided to do a chapter from James's perspective. We'll see how long it actually ends up being. Thanks for reading! –zip
James Potter was content. It was summer, he had a month left before he even had to think about doing schoolwork again, the weather was lovely, and his best mate had come to stay at his house for—well, forever possibly, which, when one forgot about the extenuating circumstances, was rather brilliant.
"C'mon, James, pitch it!" Sirius whined, pulling James back from his musings. Sirius was standing in front of the wicket, knees bent and bat at the ready, waiting for James to pitch the ball. James smirked at him and wind-milled his arm around, releasing the heavy red ball and letting lose a wickedly fast pitch, aimed straight for the wicket behind his friend.
Sirius hit the ball with a resounding crack, and both boys watched as the ball sailed away, over a lonely evergreen tree and beyond the oval boundary James's father had drawn for them yesterday.
Sirius raised his fists over his head, bat still held tightly in one, jumping around in circles. Once he finished his victory dance, Sirius lowered the top of the bat to his mouth, and used it as a fake microphone.
"And that's another six runs to Black, who edges out Potter for the third time today, on his home field no less! The crowd goes wild!" Sirius shouted, producing his own sound effects for the noises of the nonexistent crowd.
James grinned at him ruefully, and couldn't help but compare this Sirius to the bedraggled boy who'd shown up on their doorstep in the middle of the night just a fortnight ago. Sirius's lip had been split that rainy night, his eye blackened, and he had his arm wrapped around his ribs as though they'd pained him.
"I don't have anywhere to go," Sirius had admitted to the Potter family tearfully, after he'd been ushered inside to sit on the settee by the fire.
"Of course you do, sweetheart," James's mother had told him firmly, grabbing Sirius's hand and pulling him into a gentle hug before ushering him to the washroom to fix him up.
"Go get an extra set of your pajamas, James," his father had told him, once they realized Sirius had nothing with him but his wand, his broomstick, and the clothes on his back.
The next night, James and Sirius walked into the guest room Sirius was using to find Sirius's possessions filling the space: his school trunk was sitting at the end of the bed, his clothes filled the wardrobe by the wall, and his books were settled on the shelf above the desk. Even some of his favorite pictures and posters adorned the walls.
"I couldn't get all the posters," James's dad said behind them, "Your Permanent Sticking charms are exemplary, Sirius, I must say." He'd finished with a smile.
Sirius had stared around the room in open-mouthed shock, his eyes bright. "Mr. Potter, how—why—I—wow," Sirius stuttered, "Thank you, sir," he'd finally said softly, fingering an old quilt draped over the edge of the bed that James knew he was fond of.
Mr. Potter had clapped Sirius on the back and nodded. And Sirius had been with the Potters ever since.
"Yeah, well, if you want to play another round, you can go get the ball back this time. I'm tired," James harrumphed, sitting on the ground, and Sirius laughed at him.
"What, worn-out from chasing my balls already, Prongs?" Sirius said suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. James rolled his eyes, and watched as his friend jogged off after the red blip in the distance.
James laid back in the grass, feeling the sun wash over his face as he closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet moment. Sirius had been hesitant to play cricket yesterday, unsure of the rules and still a bit leery of anything Muggles considered fun because of his upbringing. But Sirius had taken to cricket like a duck to water, especially batting, smashing James's most difficult pitches into the distance with ease.
James sat up suddenly, opening his eyes, to see Sirius halting his jog a few feet in front of him, bat and ball in hand.
"Damn, I wanted you to stay like that so I could try that trick where you almost drip saliva on to the person's face, then they open their eyes and you suck it all back in-," Sirius explained, but James ignored it and interrupted.
"You should be a Beater," James said simply, looking up at his friend.
Sirius looked at him quizzically. "On the quidditch team, you mean?"
"No, in the kitchen to mix cakes," James said sarcastically, standing up. "Yes, I mean on the quidditch team. You'd be brilliant at it."
Sirius tilted his head to the side, eyes scrunched. "Huh."
James understood the reaction. For most of his life, Sirius had fancied himself a Chaser, and he'd tried out for the position on the quidditch team the past three years only to come back each time disappointed. Losing it to James third year hadn't been so bad, his disappointment mostly smothered by excitement for his friend. Losing to Marlene fourth year had been a bit harder because he was older than the year before, and she was a girl, no matter how talented or capable she may be.
It was losing to little third year Nigel Peakes during try-outs last year that had been the most bitter pill for Sirius to swallow. For, not only had a mousy little boy won the position instead, but Sirius no longer had a chance of playing on the Gryffindor quidditch team.
Or so they'd thought.
"Think about it, Padfoot," James said, earnestly, "Fabian's gone, and we're going to need a new Beater this year. And being a Beater really isn't any different from being batter in cricket, and you're already great at that-,"
"Isn't any different!" Sirius exclaimed incredulously, "Except for the tiny fact that, oh, cricket's played on the ground and in quidditch you're fifty feet in the air on broomsticks!"
James waved him off, "I'll practice with you. You've already got the power, which is the part that can't be taught. We can spend the rest of summer doing target practice, working on your aim, and your swing while you're in the air. We have a month before school starts, plenty of time to get ready for try-outs."
Sirius was quiet for a moment, staring at him.
"You're serious?" He asked, and James couldn't help but grin.
"No, you are," he quipped, and Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Yes, Sirius, I'm serious. I think you should be a Beater, and I will practice with you to make sure you become one." James said solemnly, and Sirius smiled, beginning to warm up to the idea.
"Well, all right, coach. When do we start?"
James spent the next two weeks preparing Sirius for quidditch tryouts. James had dragged his mother's old archery targets out of the cellar, and Sirius practiced his aim by tossing the cricket ball to himself and swinging for the target. By the third day of practice he couldn't miss.
Pleased, James moved on to broomsticks, and tossed the ball to Sirius whilst making the target fly around the yard with a flick of his wand. This drill was tricky because, though the Ministry wouldn't know it was him who performed the magic, James was still underage until next March, and his parents would give him a scolding to remember if he was caught.
Sirius was worth the risk, though.
And not just because he was James's mate and this was making him happy. Sirius was good, excellent even, and as a returning member of Gryffindor quidditch team, his performance certainly made James excited for the future.
And then, their Hogwarts letters arrived.
James felt his stomach swoop down to his toes as he retrieved the two envelops from the snowy white owl, passing Sirius his, and opening up his own thicker and heavier one.
James dumped the envelope, ignoring the letter and booklist to reveal a tiny scarlet pin, with a golden lion and "Captain" emblazoned at the top.
"Good one, James," Sirius said from behind him, patting him on the back.
James knew being named captain was a possibility for him this year, but he hadn't allowed himself to hope for it. Kenneth Wayland was a year older than him, and Marlene McKinnon was just as qualified. Even Gideon Prewett, going into fifth year, wouldn't have been out of the realm of possibility.
But James had been on the team longer than all three of them. And James was the one McGonagall had chosen to be captain this year.
With a happy grin, James turned around to thank Sirius before stopping in his tracks. Sirius looked…odd. His face was twisted as though he was trying to smile, but couldn't actually manage it. Instead, his mouth and eyes were locked in a scrunched up grimace that just served to make Sirius look severely constipated.
"What's wrong with you?" James asked quickly.
"Nothing, what are you talking about? I'm happy for you," Sirius said.
He was lying through his teeth.
At first James was confused, before becoming very angry. Sirius was James's best mate, he knew how much James loved quidditch, how hard he worked at it. How could Sirius not be happy for him? He couldn't possibly be jealous of James being captain, he wasn't even on the quidditch team yet….
He wasn't on the quidditch team yet.
And James was going to be in charge of tryouts. He was going to make the final decision for the new Beater and Seeker this year.
Oh.
"You're still trying out." James stated, and grew angry as he saw Sirius shaking his head, "Yes, you are. Sirius, you've worked too hard for this-,"
"Oh, c'mon, James, you saw how angry everyone got after Fabian put Gideon on the team last year, even after he walked away with it at the tryout. I'm nowhere near as good as Gideon. And honestly, can you be unbiased when it comes to me? Because I'm pretty sure I couldn't if our places were switched."
James was quiet for a moment, contemplating Sirius's words. Could he be unbiased in a tryout for Sirius? Even if Sirius was having a bad day, James could simply justify putting him on the team with his performance practicing this summer, which wouldn't be fair to the rest of the field at the actual tryout.
Finally, James said, "First, you're selling yourself and your Beating skills short. You're excellent, and could certainly give Gideon a run for his money. And second, well….We'll think of something. I don't want my being captain to put anyone off trying out, especially not you. It will all work out."
Sirius shrugged, not giving James an answer.
It was rainy that day, and the boys couldn't go out to practice quidditch. They played chess for a while, before moving on to Gobstones, then Exploding Snap, before finally deciding they were absolutely tired of games and the rain was a terrible, terrible thing. That afternoon found James and Sirius in Mr. Potter's study, Sirius reading a novel and James writing a letter to Remus.
At least, James was meant to be writing a letter to Remus. Sitting in front of a nearly blank piece of parchment, with only "Dear Remus," written at the top hardly counted as writing a letter. But James was still distracted. How on earth could he make the quidditch tryouts fair?
"James, Sirius, where are you?" James heard his mother call down the hall. She been down the road at her Muggle friend Linda's house for tea.
"In the study, Mum," James called back, and his mother popped her silvery blonde head through the door.
"Ah, there you boys are. Bored yet?" She asked with a knowing wink, and both boys nodded tiredly, "Perfect. We're going to the cinema."
James immediately popped out of his seat, completely excited. His mother was a pureblood, but she'd had an uncle who was a squib who married a Muggle, resulting in his mum's knowledge and interest in Muggle culture. As a child on rainy days, she and James would often drive down to the village in her old Ford to go to the cinema.
"C'mon Sirius get up, go get your jacket. What are we seeing, Mum?" James asked quickly. Sirius looked very confused.
"What's the cinema?" Sirius asked, and not for the first time James thought that he friend really could have benefited from taking Muggle Studies.
"It's where people go to see the Muggle moving picture shows," Mrs. Potter answered kindly, "And we're going to see something called The Stars War or something like that. James, dear, grab the pound notes out of your father's desk." She finished, and James did as his mother bid, handing the old leather wallet stuffed with pound notes to his mother.
"Sounds wicked," James replied, smiling at a still hesitant Sirius as the three made their way out of the office and down the stairs to the front door.
"Are you coming?" James asked, looking back at Sirius who still stood in the doorway whilst James and his mother piled into the small car.
"I've never ridden in a car before," Sirius said. James realized he was nervous.
"It'll be fine, I promise. Mum's a great driver, never been in an accident once. And, the village is just down the road, two turns and we'll be there. It won't take more than five minutes."
"All right…" Sirius finally agreed, sitting in the backseat. Mrs. Potter turned back and helped Sirius with his seatbelt.
During the ride, Sirius fiddled with the roll down windows in the backseat, at one point smiling as he stuck his head out the window and into the rain. James nearly laughed out loud when he saw it. Sirius really was a dog.
At the cinema, Mrs. Potter gave James a few pound notes, and he took Sirius along to the concession stand to get some snacks while she got the tickets. James got some popcorn and soft drinks, and a Mars bar for Sirius, because everyone deserves to eat a Mars bar in his lifetime.
The movie was a lot of fun and very interesting, but James had much more fun watching Sirius's reaction to the experience. His friend was absolutely giddy, like a third year in Honeydukes for the first time. Sirius was unquestionably convinced that Hollywood must be filled with a bunch of wizards to create something as magical as The Star Wars. Sirius was also convinced he and the ruggedly handsome Han Solo were long lost cousins by the end of the film.
But the true hero of the movie to James was, ironically, Darth Vader. For his black mask, with the reflective eye plates and the built in voice changer gave James just the idea he needed to give Sirius a fair chance at playing quidditch.
A month later found James Potter on a Saturday morning, sitting in the Gryffindor locker room with the one and only Professor McGonagall.
"Thanks for agreeing to help out Professor, I really appreciate it," James said, using his fingernails to cut the spellotape sealing the cardboard boxes beside him.
"It's not a problem, Mr. Potter, I'm happy to help. However, I'm not quite sure I understand exactly why you need me this morning." McGonagall answered, looking at him over the top of her square spectacles.
"Weeeellllll, you see, Professor, a lot of people weren't very happy with the results of tryouts in the last couple years, said they were conducted unfairly. So, I've decided to make it completely fair."
McGonagall eyed him shrewdly. James had grown much taller than her in the past few years, but she still had a way of making him feel very small.
"And how, pray tell, have you managed that?" she finally asked, curious.
James opened the cardboard box, and revealed one of the black masks, pulling it over his head.
"With this," James answered, his voice deepened considerably by the mask, his hazel eyes hidden behind the whited out frames.
"Oh, my!" Professor McGonagall started, hand to her chest, shocked by the deep voice that answered. "Well, that's certainly impressive, Potter. However did you manage it?"
James pulled off the mask and smiled. "I had to get some help from Professor Flitwick, but basically it's a derivative of the Sonorous Charm. Took me a bit to figure it out, but we got there."
Professor McGonagall nodded, "So, my job will be…." James stared at her for a moment, not used to giving direction to a teacher.
"Oh, yeah, er, just to keep it fair, we'd like you to call the players in one at a time, and give them each a jersey and a mask. Don't let them leave 'til they've put them both on. Then, if you could write their name down and the number they're wearing on the clipboard behind you that would be great. We'd like to see it after the tryout is over, to help us figure out reserve roster and such."
Professor McGonagall nodded again, looking pleased. "It seems you thought of everything, Mr. Potter. I'll begin calling them in at ten, if you'd like to go outside to prepare.
James nodded and thanked her again before exiting to the pitch.
"Took you long enough!" Marlene shouted, pouncing on him as he exited the locker room. "We don't have much time left! Come on, everyone's in the center for a meeting, waiting for you."
"All right, all right," James said, walking with her to the middle of the pitch, "Do you have everything ready for the Seeker tryout?"
Marlene nodded, "All the supplies for Seeker Golf are in that box by the wall," Marlene said, pointing over to said box.
"'Seeker Golf, eh?" James questioned, and Marlene smiled.
"That's what we called it this summer. It's a great drill, but honestly it's such a fun game as well. We should try it sometime during practice, I bet I'd clobber you."
"We?" James asked. Marlene blushed, and James wondered if Marlene had a boyfriend. If so, Sirius would be severely disappointed.
"Yeah, uh-me and…my dad. My dad, he's the one who made up Seeker Golf. He played Seeker in school and that helped him practice during the summers."
James was sure there was more to the story, but he and Marlene had arrived at the center, and the rest of the team was upon them.
"All right lads," James said, and Marlene coughed pointedly, "and lady. It's show time. Did you get the bats, Gideon?"
Gideon nodded, "I got seven from the shed, they're under the hoops now. I stuck the bludger crates and targets next to them as well."
"Perfect," James praised, and Gideon grinned.
"I put the cricket bat and ball there as well," Nigel piped up, and James nodded, "Did you want the wicket set up, James, for when you're pitching?"
"No, I don't think I'll need it, and it's not as though we're actually playing cricket today. We should be fine. Kenneth, do you have the clipboard? McGonagall told me there are seventeen people out there.
Kenneth raised the clipboard to show James before writing down the numbers with a muggle pen. Kenneth was a half-blood, and often tried to assimilate magical and muggle culture to make tasks easier.
"All right then, I think….I think we're ready."
As James said it, he looked around to find that beyond their huddle the field had become populated by black masked people in jerseys. James watched as Professor McGonagall exited the locker room door behind jersey number 3, and nodded straight at him. James nodded back and let out a whistle, motioning for the people dispersed throughout the pitch to join them.
His throat felt dry as sandpaper as he looked about the masked faces, all of them staring to him for direction. For a moment, he wondered which one was Sirius, before banishing the thought from his head.
They're numbers, he told himself. Right now they're numbers. If you spend the whole time trying to figure out which one is Sirius, all of this will have been for nothing.
James explained the masks and the tryout, before asking if anyone had any questions. When nobody spoke up, James moved on to the fly-about the pitch and running through the drills.
Gideon and Kenneth had asked if the drills were really necessary, for making everyone do them could be a waste of time, but after watching them James was sincerely glad he'd made the contenders run the drills. He just hoped beyond hope that Sirius was not number 3, 12, or 17.
After the three were dismissed, James divided the Seekers and the Beaters, and moved on to the main Beater tryout. He'd considered doing Seekers first, but decided that Beaters were (obviously) the tryout he was most nervous for, and it'd be best to just get it over with.
Eight people walked over to the north end of the pitch with James, Gideon, Marlene, and Kenneth. Eight tall, for the most part burly, and strong people, all contending for one position. James gulped before speaking once again.
"All right everyone, line up behind Marlene please." The eight did as he asked. James watched as Marlene handed the first in line, number 6, the cricket bat, before throwing the familiar red ball over to James.
"You won't be needing your brooms right now, so please lay them down behind you." There were some grumbles of confusion and apprehension at that statement, but James continued, undeterred. "We're going to be testing your power first. Each player will be getting exactly five pitches from me, which they are tasked to hit as hard as they can with the cricket bat. Kenneth and Gideon will be taking notes on each of you, and once you've all gone through, we'll let you know who gets to move on to the next task. Any questions?"
"Yeah," cackled number 1, fourth down the line. "What if you throw us a bad pitch?"
James refrained from rolling his eyes. He almost said there wouldn't be any bad pitches, because he was the one pitching, but he didn't.
Instead, he explained calmly, "If Marlene and I judge a pitch to be a bad one, you'll get an extra." 1 nodded, seeming placated….for now.
James suddenly jumped as a cacophony of positively evil laughter reached them from the other side of the pitch. It sounded awful, like Death Eaters had made camp there. It sort of looked like it, too, what with the black masks and all. It was distracting, and horrible, and James shot icy daggers through his eyes at Nigel, willing him to make them stop this nonsense so the Beaters (and, more importantly, Sirius) could concentrate.
Then, James began. He couldn't help but be impressed by some of the hits these people made; more than a few went into the stands. Numbers 15 and 1 actually hit balls out of the stands. Once everyone was through and had had their five (only five, because James didn't throw bad pitches. He was a great bowler), Kenneth, Gideon, and Marlene jogged to meet James in the center.
Kenneth was looking over his notes. Marlene was looking over at the people. Gideon was looking at James.
"11, 2 and 8 need to go," Gideon said immediately, and Kenneth nodded in agreement, looking up from his notes.
"I'd say it's between 1 and 15 at this point," Marlene said, and James looked at her sharply.
"Don't judge too quickly," James said.
"Yeah, we don't even know if they can aim yet. Power's no good if you can't choose where you direct it." Gideon agreed. James couldn't help but think the words applied to many more situations in life than just quidditch.
"All right, so 11, 2 and 8 go? We're all on the same page?" Nods all around, and Kenneth walked over to give the two the bad news.
As 2, 11, and 8 sulked over to the locker room, James called the five remaining Beaters to their huddle.
"Okay, now Gideon is going to demonstrate the next task." Everyone watched as Gideon picked up a Beater's bat, threw the red ball up to himself, and whacked it over to the target Marlene just finished setting up fifty feet away, hitting it squarely in the middle.
"Each of you gets three tries to hit the target. If you don't hit it, you're done." James said.
Of the five left, 1, 9 and 15 hit the target. 6 and 14 did not. They trudged off the field willingly, without being dismissed.
"Brilliant. All right you three, this is where things get interesting. You'll need your brooms now." The three ran back to grab their brooms before coming back to listen again. "The target is going to be flying around the field," and with a flick of James's wand, the target was in the air, "And, we're going to release the bludgers. Your goal is to hit the target with a bludger first."
The three nodded, and James continued, "The tricky part is, Kenneth with be flying around with the quaffle while you're trying to hit the target. Kenneth cannot get hit by a bludger. As you're trying to hit the target, you are also trying to protect Kenneth. Got it?" They nodded again.
"Okay then," James said simply, indicated that the three and Kenneth should take off. Across the field, Marlene released the bludgers, and James looked back to ensure the charm he'd put on the target to make it fly was still working.
1 and 9 took off like madmen, each racing around the field trying to find one of the bludgers as though it was the snitch. 15 was the smart one, in James's opinion. He tailed Kenneth, giving him enough room to move, but remained close enough that when a bludger came, he'd be prepared.
And prepared 15 was. When not one, but two bludgers came careening at Kenneth at the same time, 15 stepped inside and hit them both in succession, each smashing one after the other into the middle of the target below them.
James watched as 15 punched his fists in the air in triumph, watched as he floated to the ground. James's heart sped up, and he looked at 15 as he hadn't allowed himself to look at them before. 15 was tall certainly, but as tall as Sirius? James wasn't sure. And with the baggy jersey on, 15 looked wide and bulky, much larger than Sirius's lithe frame.
Completely uncertain as to who would be pulling off the mask, James walked forward, schooling his features into a neutral expression. If it wasn't Sirius, he couldn't act disappointed here. He was in charge, it would be mean and unprofessional. Plus, no matter what his team was adding an excellent Beater to the roster.
With a deep breath, James approached 15 and stuck out his hand.
"Congratulations, 15. Impressive display today. We would love it if-," James began, but he was quickly interrupted.
"Prongs, it's me!" a deep voice said, and 15 pulled off his mask to reveal the ecstatic face of the one and only Sirius Black.
James felt his mouth drop open in shock. The knot at the pit of his stomach finally unwound itself, and James truly grinned for the first time that day. Sirius did it.
He did it.
Sirius was the new Gryffindor Beater.
"Yes!" James shouted, as he embraced his best friend, "Oh, this is brilliant," James said, still pounding Sirius wildly on the back. He finally released him, and both watched as the rest of the team walked over to congratulate Sirius on his new position.
"Congratulations, Sirius," Marlene said with a pretty smile, and James watched as Sirius Black, suave, cool Sirius Black, actually blushed. That's when James knew his friend was just as shocked and out of sorts by this turn of events as he was.
"Thanks, Marley," Sirius answered her. Gideon clapped him on the back, and Nigel and Kenneth took turns shaking his hand.
"I was hoping it'd be you," Gideon said happily. "I can't say I'm very surprised, you've always been talented on a broom. We're going to have some fun together this year, Black." At that, Sirius looked up quickly, as though he'd forgotten something, and stared directly at James, grin on his face.
"That reminds me. James, you're not going to believe who's trying out for Seeker today. I didn't even know she flew. But honestly, I won't be surprised if she ends up making the team-," Sirius said, and James looked at him, puzzled.
"James, the Seekers want you," Marlene interrupted quickly, and James looked up to see number 13 waving their arms at him across the pitch.
"Oi! Potter! Will we get our turn soon?" Number 13 shouted. James felt himself blush as he jogged across the field. Swept up in the excitement of Sirius's victory, he'd kind of forgotten about Nigel and the six remaining Seekers.
"Er, yes, sorry about that, your turn now. Because you've had a bit of a break, we'll give you ten minutes to stretch and fly a bit to get warmed-up before we start your try-outs, yeah?" James watched a few of the Seekers start flying around and stretching out, whilst he and Nigel went to retrieve the golf balls and slingshot across the pitch.
"All ready then? Great, let's get started. Our first drill's what my friend likes to call 'Seeker Golf'," he said, and at that, James saw number 7 actually jump up in surprise and clutch their hands together tightly. He held back a grin at their obvious excitement. He wondered if the person knew Marlene…
"During Seeker Golf, the Seeker will fly around in the air above us, while I shoot a golf ball," James said, holding up one of the golden golf balls, "From this slingshot. You need to catch the ball before it hits the ground. It'll be best of five for each of you."
The first Seeker wasn't very impressive, only catching two out of the five balls. The second, James's new friend number 13, caught four of the five. James found himself wishing someone would beat them.
And James found his wish granted with the next Seeker, the excited Lucky Number 7. She (for James was pretty sure it must be a girl, otherwise a very young boy) caught his first three balls with ease. Looking to challenge her, James aimed long, but pulled the slingshot short. 7 swooped right in literally under his nose and swiped the ball right out of the air.
James couldn't help but grin. Impressed by number 7, the last ball he shot was a long one, nearly a line drive. 7 put on the speed to reach it, slightly trailing the ball all the way across the pitch. James felt himself frowning as he realized 7 had a bad angle, and probably would be able to turn around to catch the ball.
That didn't matter to 7. James watched in openmouthed shock as she rolled herself in midair, catching the ball upside down mid roll, before settling upright once again and immediately shooting upward to avoid hitting the wall.
Yes, he was very impressed by Lucky Number 7.
The rest of the competitors weren't anything compared to 7, until the last one, number 5. By the skin of his teeth, 5 ended up catching all five balls. After his performance, James dismissed the rest of the field besides 7.
"All right then," James said, a sly smirk on his face, "Here's where it really gets fun. Marlene and I are going to blindfold both of you," James took the strip of fabric Marlene had given him, and stooped down to tie the fabric around number 7's head. 7 was really very short, nearly a foot shorter than James. And she was definitely a girl, for this close to her James could smell something flowery and…familiar? Maybe it was lavender.
"Okay, then," James continued quickly, stepping away from 7, "Neither of you can see, right?" Both 7 and 5 shook their heads. "Perfect. Marlene is releasing the Snitch right now, we'll give it a minute to fly about. I'll count down from three, and when I say 'go', take off your blindfold and get on your broom. First one to catch the snitch will be our new Seeker."
At his command, Marlene walked over to the nearby trunk and released the snitch. Marlene was watching 7 very closely, James realized, a slight smile on her face as she observed the way 7 was picking her nails, and dancing from one foot to the other with nerves.
"Three….Two….One….GO!" James shouted, and he watch excitedly as 7 and 5 ripped off their blindfolds and quickly mounted their brooms. 7 had a slight edge on 5 to begin with, but that didn't end up mattering. The snitch was nowhere in sight.
For fifteen minutes the Gryffindor quidditch team stood on the pitch, silently watching the two seekers aimlessly search for the little glint of gold. James was getting bored. Normally during this part of the match, he'd be playing Chaser, scoring goals only to look up and realize the snitch was being caught and the game was over. This was a bit boring, to be honest.
Just as he thought that, however, a flurry of motion erupted above them. 7 was diving full pelt toward the locker room door, and 5, realizing she must have seen the snitch, was hurrying after her, futilely attempting to catch her.
Except, when James looked toward the locker room door from his perspective, the snitch wasn't in sight.
"It's by the goalposts," Kenneth said quietly, and everybody looked up at him before starting at the north goalposts to realize that he was correct.
"Then what are they-,"Nigel questioned, but Marlene interrupted him.
"She's pulling a Wronski Feint," she said in awe, and everyone watched, open-mouthed, as 7 approached the wall at full speed, rolled herself over and timed it perfectly so 5 flew into the wall just inches above her, and turned while kicking off the wall to hurtle toward the northern goal posts.
James didn't get the chance to watch 7 catch the snitch. Instead he and a few others were running toward the spot where 5 lay flat on the ground.
"Are you all right?" James called worriedly, as Kenneth offered 5 a hand.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," the deep voice said, before the mask was pulled off to reveal the bloodied face of seventh year Frank Longbottom.
James patted him on the back, ""Good show today, Frank. We'll have you on the reserve roster, feel free to stop by practice whenever you like." Frank nodded, before approaching number 7, who had just landed nearby to congratulate her. James couldn't help but admire how very kind and amiable a person Frank was; James didn't think he could do the same and be so sincere right after losing.
"All right, Lucky Number 7, it's about time we know who our new teammate is," James said, clapping her on the back. As she reached up to pull the mask off her face, James found himself very excited. Who could this mystery Seeker be? He wondered if it was the same girl Sirius was surprised to see at tryouts….
"YEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!" Someone screeched, and suddenly Marlene ran for number 7, looking as though she would tackle her to the ground. Instead Marlene hugged her tightly, spinning her around in circles. The girl had long, dark red hair, but that was all James could see of her until…
"I'm gonna be sick, Marley," James heard the girl mumble in a soft, lilting voice, and Marlene laughed out loud, but set her down. James felt his stomach swoop, and land somewhere down by his feet.
It was Lily Evans.
Lily Evans was the new Gryffindor seeker.
Marlene continued to gush about how proud she was of Lily, and everyone else on the team went to congratulate her except for James. He found himself actually frozen from the shock of it all. Lily Evans played quidditch. Lily Evans was excellent at quidditch.
Lily Evans was possibly the world's most perfect woman.
"You didn't tell me you could play quidditch!" James heard Gideon say in phony anger.
"I didn't know I was any good until a month ago," Lily said with a shrug of her shoulders. The statement shocked everyone present into silence. She'd been playing quidditch for a month and she was that good. James wondered if it was possible to be prodigy on a broomstick.
"See, Prongs," Sirius finally said, coming behind James and clapping him on the back, "She is the most stubborn and surprising person you will ever meet in your life. Aren't you, Lily?" Sirius asked with a grin, and Lily shrugged her shoulders again, her bright greens eyes scrunched up and squinty from the huge smile on her face.
A smile directed at James.
Well, and probably Sirius, too, but it was the thought that Lily Evans was smiling at him that finally unfroze James, and urged him forward to offer her his hand.
"Welcome to the team then, Lucky Number 7. We're happy to have you around."
Lily took the proffered hand. Her hand was small, but her grasp in his firm and warm.
"Thanks, James. I'm happy to be here."
The first match is in November, against Slytherin. James doesn't sleep the night before, nervous as he is for his first match as captain.
He need not have worried. He barely has the chance to score two goals before Lily has swooped down and caught the snitch from under Regulus Black's foot. James thinks it must be some kind of Hogwarts record for the shortest match ever.
He pretends to be angry that the match was so short, but secretly he's rather elated.
The second match is in February, on a blustery, cold day against Hufflepuff. With the wind and snow, it takes both Seekers an hour and a half to spot the snitch. James watches as Lily narrowly beats Macmillan to the snitch, but is hit in the head by a bludger right after she catches it. James dives, and catches her rather dramatically before she hits the ground, himself nearly in tears from the blood on her face and the fact that she refuses to wake up.
James sneaks to the hospital wing that night to sit with her, and can't help but grin when he wakes the next morning to her slender fingers playing with his hair.
The third match is in May, against Ravenclaw. In order to win not just the match, but the cup as well, James tells Lily she must wait until Gryffindor is up by seventy points to catch the snitch.
James knows the wait will be agony for her, but the team works hard to make it as short as possible. Within forty minutes, Gryffindor is up by seventy, and James gives Lily a thumbs up from across the field.
Immediately, James sees Lily diving toward the locker room door, just as she had so many months ago, and James already knows what's going to happen next.
So when Lily catches the snitch at the top of the northern goalposts, James is there first. James pulls her into a crushing hug.
James kisses her in midair in front of the entire school.
Marlene says it was destiny. Sirius says we make our own destinies.
All James knows is, when it comes to Lily Evans, the rest is history.