You can't just beat a team; you have to lave a lasting impression in their minds so they never want to see you again.
~Mia Hamm
Chapter Seven
Into the Game
Three weeks into second year, and James felt that it was shaping up like his first year had. His classes were similar, all taught by the same professors as last year so James didn't experience any of the learning curve of the year before. He knew what each professor, from McGonagall, to Flitwick, to Binns, and to Strinkley, required of him, he knew how much work and he much focus he needed to put in. He also knew how much he could be easier, despite the increased workload.
Also, after the initial blips in which Snape managed to get one up on Sirius and James, the Gryffindor duo had managed to get back at the slimy Slytherin more times than the Slytherin had gotten them. They'd vanished his books while he was working in the library. They'd made Snape's books fly out of his arms in between classes and then they sent the books flying back at Snape like angry birds. They'd also jinxed him, time and again, with jelly-legs and bat-bogey hexes, as well as several others.
All in all, it was shaping up to be a really excellent year. And, on an oddly warm late September day, the year for James and Sirius got even better. Both boys had been woken up early by the unusually bright sunshine filtering through their windows. As a result, they were leisurely going through their morning routines, lavishing in the extra time they'd been afforded. It was while they were in the common room, finishing up on a few last minute assignments, that James noticed a brand new posting on the common room's message board.
At first, James simply stared at it quizzically, wondering what it said but preoccupied by his unfinished work. However, as soon as he'd finished up, James bolted up and rushed over to the board. The messy haired boy was 99% sure he knew what the posting was about and the potential of it had sent his heart racing.
Sirius, unaware of James' thought process, simply stayed seated. He stared questioningly at his friend as the messy haired boy excitedly raced to the fairly empty board located on the far wall.
Fellow Gryffindors
The headline proclaimed, in what James recognized as Frank Longbottom's almost chicken scratch hand. Eagerly, James read on.
Quidditch tryouts will be held
Saturday, October 7
Noon, at the pitch
Come prepared for basic drills and a potential mini-match to assess your abilities. All positions are possible, but special attention will be given to chaser (1), and beater (2).
Frank Longbottom, Quidditch Captain
"Yes!" James exclaimed loudly, momentarily forgetting the earliness of the hour in his excitement. He raced back to where Sirius was sitting and began to perform a strange dance. Sirius just stared, a look somewhere between concern and amusement on his face.
"You alright, mate?" Sirius asked, a chuckle in his voice. "You weren't bitten by a doxy or something were you?" James belly laughed at Sirius before gracelessly collapsing onto the red sofa beside Sirius.
"No! They just posted that tryouts for the Quidditch team are only a couple of weeks away! It's finally time for us to show off our skills and be rewarded our rightful places on the Gryffindor Quidditch team! Before we know it we'll be hoisting both the Quidditch and House Cups."
Sirius, still a little groggy from his early morning awakening, took a moment to process exactly what James said, but once the words finally clicked, Sirius instantly jumped up. The pair screamed and yelled and dances all around the common room, completely forgetting that it was still early in the morning and that people might still be asleep.
"Ahem," someone loudly cleared his or her throat. James and Sirius stopped their celebrating and turned to look for the source of the sound. They found it immediately. Standing in the archway that led to the girls' dormitories, wearing flannel pyjamas that were decorated with sweets with eyes, was an extremely irate, Lily Evans.
"Yes, Evans. How can we help you," James asked, his tone sincere. Lily just crossed her arms, clenched her teeth and glared at the two sole occupants of the Gryffindor common room. As she did, the tension and awkwardness increased; James and Sirius began to squirm under the intensity of the red haired girls stare.
Finally, Lily broke the mounting tension and spoke, "Some people are trying to get as much rest as possibly before they have to start their day, and the absolute racket the two of you are producing is making that extremely difficult. And for some of us, who actually focus and pay attention in class, being well rested is of the upmost importance. So, it would be greatly appreciated if you would, respectfully, shut up!" Lily then turned on her heel and marched back up the stairs and, most likely, back to the comfortable four-poster bed.
James and Sirius turned to each other, looking a little sheepish, as they watched the angry, cartoon-sweat clad rosette stomp up the girls' stairs. However, as soon as Lily disappeared around the corner, the two boys returned to their celebrating. Though, this time they were much more cognisant of their volume level.
James may have enjoyed Lily's fieriness, but that didn't mean he wanted to be on the receiving end of her full-blown anger.
It was a long, at times excruciating wait, but finally the cod sun rose on the morning of Saturday, October 7. James hadn't waited very well. He'd practically bounces through the hallways wherever he went. He had a harder time than normal focusing in class and had nearly received a detention from Professor McGonagall as a result. His school assignments and spell work practice went undone as he spent essentially every free second he had practicing for the tryouts. For the two weeks in between when the notice of the tryouts was posted and when the tryouts actually occurred, James' entire life and being revolved around little else than Quidditch.
At breakfast on the seventh, as various owls delivered that day's mail, James, with the assistance of Sirius, was verbally going through different Quidditch plays and manoeuvres. Remus, once the newspaper arrived, buried his nose in stories about some recent disappearances of squibs and muggleborns, and even some muggle disappearances that the Daily Prophet was contending were connected. Peter was busy scratching away at some large roll of parchment, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth in a classic deep-in-thought pose.
"So," James spoke, suddenly addressing all of his friends and not just Sirius, "everyone ready and excited for today? Sirius and I have been practicing for at least a hundred hours so it should be a good show. Are you going to come and watch? Remus? Peter?" As James spoke, he looked at each boy in turn. Sirius' nodded, before resting his chin casually on his hand and disinterestedly picking at some food on his plate. James suspected that his friend was trying to play off as cool while in reality being just as the first time since the paper arrived. Peter flushed bright red.
"I will be there to support your efforts, James. And yours, Sirius. But I will be sitting comfortably in the stands and not getting anywhere near the pitch. I prefer to watch Quidditch. Not play it," Remus spoke before once again raising the paper and burying his nose in it.
"I'll be there too! And, uh, I, uh, made something for you." Peter started out confident, but quickly became nervous and shifty. As he spoke, he inched the parchment he'd been intensely working on towards James and Sirius. The pair looked down at it. In shimmering red and gold lettering Peter had written the phrases, 'Go James,' 'Go Sirius,' 'Catch the Quaffle,' 'Score the goals,' and 'Beat the keeper.'
James looked up at Peter beaming. "That's brilliant! I'm sure no one else will have a cheering section quite like ours!" At James' praise, all formally nervous ticks Peter had been experiencing vanished. The mousy boy beamed back at James.
When it was finally time, the quartet stood and began exiting the Great Hall. As they did, James' mind began focusing on the next few hours and what he'd need to do in order to make the team. However, despite his sharpening focus, James noticed a lone owl out of the corner of his eye. This owl had arrived much later than the normal post owls and landed in front of Snape. Had his mind not been so focused on Quidditch, James may have gone to investigate. Instead, he followed the others out onto the grounds.
"Alright, everyone! Thanks for coming out today. You are taking the first, very important, step to joining the great and mighty Gryffindor Quidditch team! This year will be our year! With your help we will surely win the Quidditch Cup.
"Now to start I'd like to see how quick you can fly and how well you can dodge incoming bludgers and other players. So, you'll all line up at the far goalpost and race around the pitch. If I call your name then, unfortunately, you haven't made the team. After a few laps, the other players and I will start putting obstacles inn your way. Then, we'll move on from there." Frank Longbottom, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain stood in the middle of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Surrounding him were twenty eager Gryffindors clutching brooms. At Frank's whistle, everyone took off. James and Sirius were pretty close to the front of the pack as they all circled the pitch.
After about four laps of the pitch, in which both James and Sirius were able to keep up with the front of the pack, Longbottom called out the names of the four at the back, one of whom had already been lapped twice. Then, Frank blew his whistle, signalling the remaining members of the Gryffindor team. The seeker, a tall and curvy black haired girl named Karen Wilde, the older sister of second year Claire Wilde, grabbed up a beaters bat. The Keeper, a stocky brown haired male named Albert Hewitt, joined her. They, along with Frank and the other remaining chaser Vincent Price, then began flying at and through the new recruits. They also hit bludgers at the people on brooms. James, Sirius, and the others were forced to dodge the oncoming obstacles.
Finally, after twenty minutes of the exercise, Frank called it quits. Everyone landed on the pitch and Frank momentarily conferred with the other Gryffindor Quidditch players. James and Sirius stood, quite comfortably and confidently, amongst the remaining hopefuls. The messy haired boy took the pause to score the area. Sitting in the stands, in their normal spot to observe Quidditch games, were the very eager faces of Remus and Peter, holding the sign Peter had made that morning.
"Alright. We've judged your basic skills and think that everyone standing here is at least decent in terms of their skills. So, now we'll move on. The team is already made up of a seeker, Wilde, a keeper, Hewitt, and two chasers, myself and Price," as Frank mentioned each name, the player waved at the assembled crowd. "So, we're looking for a third chaser and two beaters. Of course, if we have enough qualified applicants, we are willing to open up our reserve ranks, so don't feel discouraged.
"For the rest of the try outs, we'll be focusing on the specific parts so, if you are trying out for beater, please step to the right. And if you want to try out for chaser, step to the left." Slowly, the remaining dozen or so students sorted themselves out. James and Sirius stepped to the left, indicating their desire for the sole chaser position.
"Alright, let's get started," Frank commented, a gleam in his eye. James set his jaw; it was now or never.
The tryouts were hard. James had worked his butt off and his arms, legs, and abs were so sore that he could barely move. Frank had divided up the hopefuls into teams and had them play pick-up style games. Unfortunately, James and Sirius were split up and forced to compete against each other. Then, Frank had each hopeful play with him and the other chaser Price, to test for compatibility. All of it combined to absolutely exhaust both James and Sirius.
By just before noon on Saturday, October 2, James and Sirius were laying in the stands, Remus and Peter flanking them. The chasers had tried out first, followed by the beaters, who were currently on the pitch. It would only be after everyone had his or her chance that Frank Longbottom would announce who had made the team. So, James and Sirius were waiting.
"But," Peter spoke, his voice quivering and hesitant, "if there's only one chaser position available, and you both tried out for it, doesn't that mean that only one of you will make the team?" Peter looked out at the pitch instead of at his friends, nervous to meet their eyes.
"Technically, yes," James spoke, groaning a little in pain, "but there's the reserve team or one of us could replace Vincent Price."
"Plus, as much as I love Quidditch, making the team isn't really as important to me as James. His heart will definitely put him in over me," Sirius spoke, nonchalantly. The surprising nature of his words caused James, despite his pain, to sit upright.
"You don't want to make the team? But then, why'd you put in all the practice with me?" James stared down at his friend, incredulous. However, before Sirius could respond, Frank blew his whistle, calling everyone's attention to him.
"Alright! We've made our decision. Any reserves will still take some time to sort out, so we'll keep you posted. But, right now, congratulations go out go Michael Sweeny and Jacob Hodgins, our new beaters, and James Potter, our new chaser!" A small cheer went up at the announcement, but people mostly just began leaving the pitch.
"I did it to help you, of course," Sirius responded, clapping James gently on the back.
