Quidditch

Slowly, Lily climbed the stair to her dormitory. It wasn't even eleven but she felt utterly drained, physically and mentally. She felt no desire to think about what had happened, but it was practically impossible not to.

She had cried. In front of Potter. And she had let him hug her.

Lily shuddered. Either he now thought her totally pathetic, or he felt encouraged in his quest to date her. She couldn't quite decide which prospect was worse.

Why had he even mentioned Miranda? It wasn't like they were friends. Their talk in the owlery had been the first time they'd been alone in one room without breaking into a fight. So why on earth did he feel justified to poke into her personal matters?

But for once in her life she struggled to be mad at Potter, far too shocked by her own reaction. Why had she started crying? All week she'd been coping just fine with the whole Miranda business, barely sparing a thought for her former friend.

Lily changed into her pyjamas and crawled under the covers, but sleep wouldn't come.

Had she really put the Miranda business behind herself, as she had thought? Or had she simply pushed it to the back of her mind, where it gnawed on her without her noticing? The only person Lily had talked to about it was the stag, and as comforting as his presence had been, he wasn't exactly in a position to comment. And now it had been James Potter of all people to confront her with it again, dragging everything back to the surface.

Lily swallowed hard, but this time the tears didn't come. She'd have been surprised if there had been any left, really.

But try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to be mad at Potter. It had been obvious he'd only been trying to help her. However strange it may sound – and she was fairly sure that if one were to check on hell, one would find it frozen over – James Potter had been nice to her. Somehow, that thought frightened her.

On Saturday, Lily woke early. She considered maybe reading a little and waiting for Val to rise, but after a few minutes her stomach made its emptiness known, and she slowly stumbled over towards the shower. She had planned the first tutoring sessions for this morning, and decided to use the extra time to fetch some books from the library that might prove useful.

Despite the rather early hour the Gryffindor table was quite crowded already. Almost on their own accord her eyes started searching for Miranda, and to her surprise Lily found her sitting between Julia and Amelie. The surprise turned into downright confusion when she noticed the red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. Miranda had been crying.

Lily felt an uncomfortable suspicion rise in her, and let her gaze travel further across the table. She found them almost immediately.

"What the hell did you say to her?" Lily hissed angrily, ignoring Potter's almost comical little jump as she sat down next to him.

"L-Evans!" he yelped in surprise. Even though he evidently tried to hide it, there was a guilty look on his face.

Lily's eyes narrowed. "If you hexed Miranda-"

"I didn't-!" Potter started, but Lupin interrupted him, evidently intend of saving his friend from Lily's wrath.

"Prongs didn't say a thing to her," he said calmly, leaning across the table from where he sat opposite Potter. "It's just that Padfoot broke up with her last night, and not very gently at that. Not that I blame him after what Prongs told us."

Lily felt herself go rigid. "You told them?" she hissed incredulously.

Potter seemed to visibly shrink under her burning gaze. "Only...only what Miranda did. Not...the other stuff." His voice dropped, but Lily knew what he meant.

The fact that I was in your arms, crying.

Despite the mortification she still felt at the memory, relief flooded her. "Okay," she muttered, somewhat sheepishly, and turned to her breakfast. But she couldn't keep from glancing back towards her dorm mates. Tears were slowly dripping into Miranda's musli, but she barely seemed to notice. Lily felt guilt creep up in her, despite everything. "No need for him to break up with her on the spot," she muttered uncomfortably.

Potter snorted. "You don't know Padfoot. Breaking up is putting it nicely. It's been a while since I've seen him this angry."

Lily looked up, surprised. Now that she looked at him, Black did seem rather annoyed, stabbing his eggs as if they had personally insulted him.

"His family's pretty big on the whole blood purity thing," Lupin, noticing her confusion, explained, "And he's not exactly fond of them. He's a bit touchy when it comes to prejudices against muggles and muggle borns."

That surprised Lily even further. She'd never seen Black as anything other than a slightly better looking, slightly more annoying version of Potter, whose only advantage was that he generally left her in peace. Him being so upset by Miranda's behaviour didn't fit into that picture at all.

"Ah," she simply made, hiding her confusion behind a cup of tea.

A few seconds later, Potter rose to his feet. "I need to go, sort out the broomsticks. Are you guys coming later?"

Lily stared after him. "Quidditch Tryouts," Lupin informed her, having followed her gaze. "He's captain, or have you forgotten?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not likely. He's not exactly keeping it secret, is he?"

To her surprise, Lupin laughed at that. "Nice way of putting it. You're welcome to come and watch, actually. It's not as dull as it sounds."

Lily merely laughed. "Not in a million years." Potter might have turned out to be slightly less annoying this year, but that did not mean she'd join his fan club.

Sadly, she appeared to be the only one of this sentiment.

"Nobody?" she muttered incredulously at five past ten, when she was still alone in the classroom. She shot an annoyed look out of the window where she could see the Quidditch pitch, populated by what appeared to the entire Gryffindor house.

Sodding Quidditch. Sodding Potter.

"Maybe you and Potter should've matched your schedule," a thoughtful voice now said, sounding rather amused. Lily turned around to find Emily grinning at her.

One out of fifteen. It's something, I guess...

The Ravenclaw shrugged. "All the better for me. One-on-one lessons!" She laughed. "And you'll get paid no matter how many people show up, don't you?"

Lily had to admit that her friend was right, even thought she wasn't doing this for the money. "Alright, then," she sighed, turning away from the window. "You were having trouble with Charms, right?"

Emily nodded, her own eyes still fixed on the window. "Summoning Charm, yeah. Can't get it to work at all," she answered, looking rather distracted, before adding, "What do you say we take this outside? This weather's not gonna last."

Lily hesitated. Instinct told her that this was not a good idea. But Emily was right, it was a wonderfully golden autumn day, and soon the sun would be replaced by rain and cold. Finally, she nodded. Why should they sit in the castle when everyone else was out enjoying themselves?

Her reservations proved to be well-founded, of course. While Emily was practicing quite enthusiastically with the feather Lily had given her, her eyes kept wandering over to the Quidditch pitch, and somehow they kept getting closer. After half an hour, Lily gave up. "Alright, you win," she sighed. "Let's watch the stupid tryouts."

Emily beamed. "Great! Er...I mean, I'd really like to keep on practicing, but if you insist..."

Lily snorted. "Don't go too far," she warned, even though the annoyance in her voice was mostly for show. It was hard to be mad at someone so inherently cheerful as Emily.

The Ravenclaw grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. It's just, I was hoping to maybe catch a few hints for tomorrow. I have no idea how beaters are picked, and what they expect you to do."

Lily merely nodded, dragging Emily up the stairs towards the topmost seats which were mostly empty. She felt embarrassed at the idea of being seen here, worst of all by Potter or his friends.

Apparently the training had been going on for quite a while, as there was a substantial amount of disappointed looking students with broomsticks in their hands in the lower ranks. Up in the air some sort of training game was going on of which Lily couldn't really make out the aim. She'd never been very interested in Quidditch, and it was beyond her how one could voluntarily get oneself beaten to a pulp by a cannon ball.

Potter was hovering above the other players, occasionally taking notes on a piece of parchment. Lily felt her stomach turn at the sight of it. How could he sit hundreds of feet in the air and not even hold on to his broomstick?

To her surprise she recognized Pettigrew flying next to him, apparently talking to him. Lily hadn't even known the small boy was part of the team. She'd always had the impression that neither Black nor Potter was taking him quite seriously.

In contrast to Lily, Emily seemed to know perfectly well what was going on. "Looks like MacDonald already got her old position back, they're playing without a snitch," she muttered, partially to Lily, partially to herself. "I think he's looking for Chasers now." Lily nodded without really listening, scanning the stands below them for any sign of Black or Lupin. "Shouldn't be too difficult to decide," the Ravenclaw continued, oblivious she wasn't being listened to, "That blonde guy on the Cleansweep is clearly crap, that that big guy's not a bad flier but he never passes the Quaffel." There. Lupin was standing next to the changing rooms, talking to Mary who appeared to be back on the team like Emily had said. Rather unlikely he'd spot Lily from down there. "Pretty sure he'll keep Murphy, not sure about the other one." Finally, Lily made out Black as well, barely visible in the throng of girls clustering around him. She rolled her eyes. Apparently he had gotten over his break up with Miranda rather well.

Satisfied that none of the Marauders would find her Lily leant back in her seat, returning her attention to what was going on up in the air. As it appeared, Potter had made his decision, because after a short command from him the game was interrupted. Lily couldn't quite supress a relieved sigh. Did that mean they could go now?

They could not. As Emily patiently explained they were now testing the Keepers more thoroughly by having them defend against free throws. And after that, they'd go for the Beaters. Lily sighed once more, this time in defeat, wondering whether it would be terribly rude to read a book. It probably was.

Then, after what felt like at least three hours, it was finally over. Grudgingly Lily had to admit that, interspersed with Emily's excited commentary, it hadn't even been that bad. There were a lot of aspects to Quidditch that she had only now grasped, and aside from the ridiculous Bludger business it turned out to be actually quite entertaining.

"Will you watch tomorrow, too?" Emily asked as they were descending the stair, sounding rather hopeful.

Lily hesitated. She had actually planned to get ahead on the enormous mountain of homework that had piled up despite her hard work during the week. But the anxious hope shining in her friend's eyes stopped her. "Sure, I'd love to." The words were out of her mouth before she had to think about them, and Emily beamed.

They were almost the last people leaving the stands, and Lily was thankful for it. Through some miracle she had actually managed not to be seen. It was nightmarish to imagine what Potter would say should he spot her. He'd probably jump to ridiculous conclusions, especially after last night.

Couldn't stand to be apart from me, could you Evans?

Lily supressed a shudder. And stopped dead in her tracks.

"Evans?"

Fuck.

"Good Godric. That's even more than last year." Remus' gaze wandered across the packed Quidditch pitch, looking amazed.

James nodded, frowning. "Half of them didn't even bring brooms," he snorted. Much as he hated to have his try-outs turn into a circus, he could hardly forbid people from watching.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it. He sighed and turned around. "You got the list, Wormtail?"

The smaller boy hastily stepped forwards, holding out a piece of parchment. "Right here. I sorted them by position."

James took it, nodding gratefully. Even though Peter never played himself he was quite helpful in organizing the team. His father was one of the managers of the Tutshill Tornados, and Peter had practically grown up in the world of professional Quidditch. He had an eye for spotting talent, and was usually proven right in his advice.

"Alright," James began, picking up his broom from where it was leaning against the changing rooms. "Moony, you keep an eye on the crowd, will you? McGonagall said if there's another duel on the stands this year she'll take away my badge. Padfoot – there'll probably be girls that'll need consoling for not making the team."

Sirius grinned. "I love these try-outs."

James couldn't help but return the grin. As expected, Sirius' upset over his break-up with Miranda hadn't lasted long, and he was eager to make up for all the missed flirts. Looking at the uncoordinated rabble he would have to direct into something vaguely Quidditch-formed, James almost wished he could join his friend.

As it turned out, the morning was less chaotic than he had feared. Half the applicants could be ruled out after just a few rounds of flying around the pitch, and after having the rest throw simple passes with some Quaffels he could again send off half of them. Finally he could put them in groups and start the first round of actual tests.

Meanwhile, Peter had released a handful of snitches for the Seeker applicants to catch, and as James had expected none of them could come close to his Seeker from the last year, Mary MacDonald. One down. Five to go.

Despite this progress it took him almost two more hours until he finally had his team assembled. Thomas Murphy, a seventh year who'd been on the team for the last three years already, rejoined him as Chaser, together with Alice MacDougal, a fifth year. He was especially pleased with his new Keeper, a third year called Francis Blackwood who had surprisingly quick reactions and managed to block almost all free throws despite is short size.

James was less certain about his Beaters, however. Rupert and Michael Colt were brothers, and while both of them were quite talented, James couldn't help but feel they had competed against each other more than to actually get on the team. But Rupert, the older one, could hit bludgers with incredible strength while Michael had without doubt the best aim of all of the applicants. James could only hope that their rivalry would subside now that they had both made the team.

Peter gave a relieved grunt as they descended towards the grounds. "Merlin. I can't remember when I last sat on a broom for this long. You owe me, Prongs."

James laughed at the painful grimace on his friend's face. "Come on. You're supporting your house to win the cup!" he reminded mock-sternly. "Isn't that thanks enough?" At Peter's raised eyebrows he relented. "Alright, I'll do that Transfiguration essay for you, lazy slob."

Remus was waiting for them on the ground, as was the new team. James thanked them, asked them to copy their timetables for him so he could set up a training plan and sent them off. Lunch had started already, and he was more than alittle hungry.

"Where's Padfoot?" he asked as the three of them were leaving the pitch.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Ran off an hour ago with some blonde. Told me that a 'broken heart' worked surprisingly well to get girls." He shook his head, before adding thoughtfully. "To be honest, I didn't expect him to take this Miranda business so lightly. He seemed to actually mean it this time."

James shrugged. "He did. Pretty sure this is his way of coping. Re-" He stopped dead in his tracks. "Evans?"

James simply stared at the girl now stepping out of the stands, wondering if he was imagining her. Surely she wouldn't be...

Lily blushed violently, and James got the impression that she was trying very hard to apparate away from here. Then Emily stepped out from behind her, a cheerful smile on her face. "Morning, Potter! Nice team you got there. Although to be honest I'd not have made that gibbon a beater."

James frowned, Lily Evans temporarily forgotten as he surveyed the Ravenclaw. Had she been spying on their try-outs? Had Teak put her up to this? But then he remembered that Emily hadn't even made the Ravenclaw team yet. He exchanged a short glance with Peter who merely shrugged, his eyes wandering back towards the castle – and lunch – with definite longing.

"Err...Thanks," James finally said, deciding to forget about possible spying. It wasn't like Emily – or even Teak – being here was against the school rules, anyway. "What are you doing here?"

Emily shrugged. "Nobody showed up for extra lessons 'cos they were all busy admiring your magnificent leadership skills, so I thought I might as well try and get some tips for tomorrow."

Right. The Ravenclaw try-outs would be tomorrow. James couldn't prevent the small pang of disappointment when he realized that Lily had probably been forced to come here by Emily. Managing to keep his face even, he smiled. "In that case, you better talk to Wormtail. He's generally better informed." He pointed towards the smaller boy and, ignoring Emily's rather doubtful look, hastily quickened his pace so he was walking next to Lily.

"I'm sorry about this morning," he muttered when he was certain they were out of earshot of the others, "I know I promised I wouldn't tell anybody. But it just made me so angry, and Sirius would never have forgiven me if I hadn't told him about it. I didn't mean to betray your trust."

Lily didn't look at him, but he could hear her take a deep breath. His heart sank. Was she angry after all? At breakfast she had seemed remarkably relaxed, prompting him to hope that maybe things were still alright between them – or as alright as they had ever been, anyway. But now... He cautiously glanced sideways.

To his surprise he realized Lily had stopped, looking at him with a strange mixture of distrust and confusion.

"Evans?"

His voice broke the spell. Lily sighed, looking almost desperate. "I...I really don't know what you're going for, Potter, but could you please stop? This whole..." She waved her hands vaguely, obviously trying to find the right words, "niceness... I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're not acting like a pubescent warthog anymore. And I'm grateful for your help last night. But that doesn't mean we're friends. Understood?" With that she turned around, quickly marching off towards the castle without so much as a look back.

James stared after her, unable to move. "Not again," a voice suddenly sighed next to him, as Remus came to a halt beside him and followed his eyes. Peter and Emily had already passed them, completely enraptured in a debate on who was currently the best beater in the League. Apparently Peter had managed to convince Emily of his superior knowledge after all.

Remus turned away from Lily and shot James a sympathetic glance. "You'll get there," he said, clapping James' back encouragingly. "After all, she hasn't asked out the Giant Squid yet, has she?"