James joins the rest of the Slytherin team out on the Quidditch grounds and waits for them to acknowledge him. Flint half smiles in his direction and boasts about how he's their new Seeker, but the other Slytherins portray more hostile emotions. They seem to be sizing James up, and Harry isn't sure that James can make the cut. His superiority complex and harsh pose are Slytherin enough, but sheer disgust for the situation marks his face. No proper Slytherin would allow their feelings to be so obvious, and the upper classmen know this. They must be thinking about how he's too young and foolish to play Quidditch.

One of their mouths opens in a sneer. Harry notes with a hint of distaste that they have rather bad teeth. "So, Flint." They hit the Slytherin captain on the back in a gesture that, while obviously meant to look friendly, must hurt. "How much do you think Dumbledore had to bribe Snape to get his precious Golden Boy on our team?"

Flint frowns. "Snape told me that he's a really good player."

Now another boy slaps his shoulder. "It's called lying, you dumbass!" Now James's sneer looks more Slytherin. He shakes his head and goes to change into his new uniform.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?!" The first boy demands. James ignores him. A second later, James is slammed up against a locker. Freakazoid and Sniffles push close to front, but James ignores them both and glares up at the older boy.

"Knock it off!" Flint shouts, "For God's sake, how am I supposed to explain this to Snape? How do you think this is going to reflect on our team?!" After a moment's pause, the boy releases his hold on James, who casually wipes off his shirt as if he's simply gotten a speck of dirt on it. Seemingly oblivious to the looks he's receiving, he goes to change. When he returns, the others are finishing preparations, as well. Flint is checking a small suit case. He catches James's eye and gestures him over.

"You probably need to have the game explained to you. You also probably need a broom, but you can use the training broom for now; Snape's looking into it. Anyway. You're the Seeker. What you need to do is find the Snitch when it's released onto the field. That." Flint points at a small gold ball with fluttering silver wings. No duh, James yawns in the headspace. Harry again finds himself startled by his alters' knowledge. Again, he resolves not to think about it. He tries to pay attention to Flint's lesson, but James already seems to know it all, so he eventually realizes there's no point. The rest of the team seems to be getting rather tired of waiting around, as well.

Finally, Flint finishes. However, he has another surprise in store. Harry's blood goes cold, and even James, for all his Gryffindor bravery, feels a flash of fear.

"Before we can get on the field, I need to warn everyone that Madam Pomfrey wants to see all the Quidditch players tomorrow for a physical exam. Basic stuff, for those of you who've played before: height, weight, general health. Don't stress out about it, she's not going to cut anyone from the team—she just wants to see what she needs to keep an eye on." The rest of the team doesn't care and continues on to the field. James remains frozen.

I don't think we should continue with this, Harry says quietly, They already had a good Seeker, anyway, and it's not like the Slytherins seem to like us much. Besides, you don't really want to help the Slytherins win the House Cup, so I'm sure we can just find another way to practice.

James swallows hard and walks on to the field.

Potter, Harry, and James wait together outside of Madam Pomfrey's office. They're last in line; if something goes wrong, they don't want anyone else to be there to witness it. James has set their mouth into a grim line. He talks to no one, not even Harry. Potter mutters his thanks that James has shut up, but even that doesn't break through to him. For his part, Potter looks about ready to throw up. He's already begged Harry to just pull them off the team, but Harry isn't sure that that's such a great idea. Students from all houses are watching him, waiting for him to screw up. If he does manage to fly well, that will be a point in his favor. If he quits before he's even played in a game, people are sure to notice, and he doubts that it will bode well.

Potter was annoyed with his stubborn logic, though he did stop arguing. Harry's glad for that. There's enough noise in his head without Potter griping, right now. He wishes that Petal would stop freaking out. More importantly, he wishes that she would realize that not letting him eat the day of a physical exam isn't going to help the whole "underweight" thing.

Rocks, says Potter suddenly, do you think we could hide rocks on us?

How do you think that would ever go unnoticed? James sneers. I'm sure she uses magic to detect our weight.

Could we spell ourselves heavier, then? Some sort of reverse levitation spell?

How the hell would we do that, you blubbering fool?

Reverse the levitation spell…? It's worth a shot, isn't it?

James actually snorts, and the student in front of them, a Ravenclaw, glances back curiously. James smiles weakly before replying to Potter, taking care not to mouth the words as he thinks them. Sure, sure. And if it goes wrong, then what? We don't even have our wand on us! Do you even think, Potter?

I bet Lily could do it.

James falls silent. Harry wonders if that's true. He knows that Lily is great at magic- she's mastered all the charm spells so far, though Harry himself gets them right only sometimes- but is working magic without a wand even possible?

They're the only ones still waiting. The examinations are taking longer than was expected, and Harry is missing dinner. He doesn't mind. The hunger doesn't bother him. Actually, he can't really feel it. Like all other bodily sensations, it's distant and removed. Usually, this is an advantage. It makes him wonder, however, if he has any injuries that he just hasn't been able to feel but that a nurse could easily notice.

Healing magic, Potter cuts in, God, why didn't I think of this before? Screw the weight, they already know you're too light. I'm going to get Lily to heal us.

Can Lily really do that?

James gives Harry the most scathing look he can manage. How do you think we're still alive? He grudgingly nods at the door Potter left through. Glad you thought of that. I don't think we have any major wounds, but we probably have a few scars that Lily never bothered to heal.

Are scars really worth worrying about?

James shifts his weight and glances at the wall behind Harry. Now, his crossed arms look more defensive than strong. They spell things, he says finally. We probably shouldn't let anyone see them.

Before Harry can ask about why he doesn't remember this, Potter rushes out with Lily in tow. The eleven year old smiles hesitantly at Harry before slipping into the body. Curious, Harry edges closer to front. He watches as Lily closes her eyes and gently touches her pinkie and thumb together in a modified meditation position. Magic stirs somewhere inside them and washes over there body. It's slow at first. There's a look of intense concentration on Lily's face, and Harry realizes that she's scanning for major injuries.

We need to hurry, Potter warns, Pomfrey is going to call us in soon.

You can't rush her, James argues. Lily ignores them both. Harry feels the magical warmth concentrating on his thighs, now. Vernin must have stepped on him and left distinct bruises. Or maybe there's a minute fracture Lily didn't think to fix before. It's probably the second option, as Lily spends quite a bit of time there. Potter begins to walk around the headspace in brisk, tight circles. His nerves are contagious. When the door opens, Harry jumps. James just makes very tight fists.

"Potter?" Pomfrey asks. Lily starts. Her mouth twitches upwards into a grimace, and she follows the nurse into the hospital wing. "Alright dear, just take off your shirt and go stand on the scale, please." For a moment, Lily seems shocked. Her face flushes when she remembers that Harry's male. She does as requested, but when the nurse turns her back to get the clipboard, she closes her eyes and lets a surge of magic flow into their back. While the nurse is taking measurements, Lily's unfocused gaze betrays her distraction. Thankfully, Pomfrey doesn't seem to notice the flux of magic.

Madam Pomfrey moves on to checking Harry's general health. Lily goes very still, barely breathing. "Nervous?" the nurse asks. Lily's nod comes just a little later than it should have. Suddenly, the nurse draws in a sharp breath, the air whistling through her teeth. "Oh," she says faintly. "Stay here, alright? I just… need to check something with the headmaster, alright dear?" She hurries off to call Dumbledore. Lily's head has dropped down onto her chest. Her eyes are wide but still.

Lily! Potter hisses. She doesn't respond. Lily, at least heal the other injuries, he pleads. Slowly, magic courses through their body, touching everything but their back, where Madam Pomfrey had seen the injury. Harry isn't sure if Lily's really doing a good job; she doesn't seem focused on anything, and she won't talk to them. James is white with anxiety, though he's trying to hide it.

The door opens. In walks Headmaster Dumbledore.

A/N:

Makurayami Ookami: Thank you for the reviews! Yes, I suppose Harry does have quite a few alters. He is co-conscious, however (capable of seeing what his alters do without blacking out), so he does have that going for him.