Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, etc, etc.

Unfortunately, the boys were barred from leaving the common room that night due to too many people crowded around the notice boards. There was no way for them to push through the crowds and escape unnoticed, especially since Professor McGonagall was within the large group of people.

"What's so exciting?" James asked Sirius, who was taller than him or Peter.

"Uh—flying lessons. They start next week with the Slytherins. Ugh. That one's for us. Everyone else is crowded around for—" he squinted, "Oh. Quidditch tryouts. Figures." Sirius said, waving a hand.

"Quidditch tryouts?"

"James, first years aren't allowed to try out…"

"Oh, shut it, Peter. I'll find a way."

"Ah, just leave it, James. They've got three Chasers already—just wait until next year, when Wood graduates. There'll be plenty of room for you then. Besides, McGonagall is the one you've got to go to if you want to sign up, and she'll never let you."

"You wanna bet?" James asked, turning and walking briskly over to his Head of House.

He stood right in front of her, with what he thought to be a winning smile on his face. "Hello there, Professor. Fancy seeing you here!"

James thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch involuntarily into a smile, but then her expression was just as fierce as ever. "Yes, Potter? And what do you want?"

"Well, I was just wondering about these Quidditch tryouts, you see… Is it really fair to exclude first years? After all, age is no show of talent, and it's extremely unfair… it's, uh, discrimination! Against… first years! Yes. So really, you can't… be…"

Professor McGonagall really was smiling now, but not in the way James wanted. It was an amused smile, rather than an accepting one. "Now, James, I knew your father when he was at Hogwarts—he was a fine Quidditch player, and I'm sure you will be too, in time. But I really can't let you try out. It wouldn't be fair to the other first years, especially those who have never flown before. And we wouldn't want to discriminate against them, would we?"

"Yes, but…"

"Next year, Potter." And with that, she turned back through the crowd and out of the portrait hole.

Sirius walked over casually, hands in his pockets and hiding a smile. "So…how'd it go?" James could tell he was about to burst with laughter.

"Oh, shut it."

Peter and Sirius both began laughing hysterically, and James just looked on with a sour expression. "You wait. I might not be allowed to try out until next year—but when I do, I'm going to be the most famous Chaser this school has ever seen!" He stormed off to the dormitory, upset with his failure and his friends' laughter.

They followed him right inside, so James stuffed his head in his pillow and refused to look up when Sirius spoke. "Ah, we didn't mean it, James. You'll be a better Quidditch player than I'll ever be. I hate brooms."

"How can you hate brooms?" James muttered.

"They're just so… I don't know. Hard to sit on. And boring, to me. I'm no great shakes at Quidditch, and to just ride around on them. Now, if I could get some sort of… machine up in the air. Something really comfortable, and big, and scary, and get that to fly… That'd be very cool."

"I guess," James said, still rather peeved with his friends. It was clear that he would not accept apologies or condolences tonight, so his friends slipped off into bed as well.

The next few days passed without any sort of issues. Remus came back Monday night, looking tired and beat up. He had a group of scratches on his arm which he swore were from his cat, and refused to speak when asked about his weekend. Their classes didn't seem to change at all, except it was becoming slightly clearer as to who was gifted in certain subjects and who was not. Unfortunately for Peter, he fell into the "not" category more times than anyone would have liked.

"I just don't understand,"he whimpered after a rather simple transfiguration lesson.

"It's easy, mate. Since the two objects look similar, you just…" and Sirius went into a long-winded, simply phrased explanation of transforming a match into a needle. Peter looked just as dumbfounded as he had when they left the class.

"We'll help you tonight in the Common Room, Peter," said Remus quietly. "We can practice." The other three, much to Peter's dismay, seemed to have mastered the spell by the end of the class.

"Yeah, don't worry, Pete. We'll work with you. You'll catch up to us soon enough!" James said, throwing his arm over his friend's shoulder.

"You think so?"

"Well, I sure hope so. Otherwise you won't be moving to second year!" Peter paled at this statement, but James and Sirius burst out laughing. Even Remus cracked a small smile.

"Ah, don't worry. He's kidding," Sirius said, thumping Peter on the back. "You'll get the hang of it all soon enough."

It wasn't only Transfiguration Peter had trouble with, though. It seemed that he was struggling in every class. Over the next few weeks, he was assigned more homework than anyone, simply because he could not get the hang of… anything. He was catching up, but slowly enough that he was perpetually behind the rest of the class. Even with the assistance of James, Sirius, and Remus, Peter sometimes struggled to get his homework done.

Everyone else seemed to be slowly finding their strengths. Remus was quite good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, James at Transfiguration, Sirius at Charms (both the class and in the way of influencing people). Why, even Snivellus was talented at Potions. Poor Peter was having trouble finding his place.

When the time came for flying lessons, his three friends were almost desperate for him to be good at something.

The Quidditch pitch was green and perfect, and James couldn't help but look around with excitement. The lesson itself wasn't going to be worth much, as he could already work a broom, but it'd be fun to fly around and see what other people could do.

"Gather round, everyone!" Madame Hooch, the flight instructor called out. There were brooms already laid out for every pupil. "Pick a broom and stand beside it."

The four Gryffindors hurried to get brooms right in a row. Unfortunately, this placed them directly across from Lily Evans and her best friend, Snivellus Snape.

As much as he wanted to help Peter succeed in something, he couldn't keep his eyes off Lily and Snape. He just couldn't understand their friendship—he was so… so… James couldn't quite figure out what, but he didn't like it. Especially when paired when a Gryffindor girl, even if that Gryffindor girl was extremely annoying and hated him.

"Stand over your broom, hold out your right hand, and say 'Up!'" Madame Hooch instructed, snapping James out of his thoughts. He did as instructed, and his broom leapt right into his hand. Sirius' seemed to rise up kind of lazily, and Remus' wobbled slightly before it reached his hand. Poor Peter's stayed planted firmly on the ground.

James could almost hear the groans from his friends. "Peter, you've just got to mean it," James muttered towards his friends. Peter nodded and tried again. His broom gave a feeble wobble and rolled over. "Peter, come on. You can do this, really!"

On the third attempt, Peter's broom finally made its way into his hand. Slowly, true, but he at least wasn't the last one. There was still one Gryffindor girl and two Slytherins who hadn't yet gotten their brooms to rise. Madame Hooch was puttering around, helping each of them individually. Peter looked a bit pleased with himself, since up until this point he was always the last person to get the hang of things.

Across from James, both Lily and Snivellus had managed to get their brooms off the ground without too much off an issue, even though they looked somewhat terrified. When Madame Hooch finally told everyone to mount their brooms and take off for a few moments, they were in the group still stuck on the ground… along with Peter.

The group that had managed to take off and hover for a few moments came back to the ground after about ten seconds. The other group looked around awkwardly, double checking to make sure they weren't the only ones left on the ground.

"That was a wonderful attempt!" said Madame Hooch, clapping her hands together. "Now, one more time, this time with more will. Hold on tight to your broomsticks, and push off the ground firmly. Trust in the broom! Ready… three, two, one…" she blew twice on her whistle, and everyone pushed into the air again. This time, almost everyone got off the ground, even Peter.

James looked around at his friends and gave a whoop of joy. Sirius looked over, excited despite his rant against broomsticks yesterday. Remus looked like he always did whenever something exciting happened—surprised and rather shaky—and Peter was gripping his broomstick so tightly his fingers were turning white. Still, he was… sort of getting the hang of it.

The Slytherins (for the most part) were getting along just fine, and so were Mary, Emily, and Jane, three of the Gryffindor girls in their year.

Lily, too, wasn't too bad. He wondered if she would ever try out for Quidditch. Snape, on the other hand…

"Hey Snivellus, you can get your nose off the broom—don't want all that grease wearing through the wood!" the words jumped out of James' mouth before he could stop them.

"Potter!" Madame Hooch scolded. "Ten points from Gryffindor. And you go join the others in the goal area." She gestured towards a small group of students: the ones who looked comfortable on a broom already. Sirius was sent over there as well, but Remus and Peter were told to stay behind.

There was an extra Quaffle out for the kids to play with, but most of them were content with racing around the goal posts and watching as, one by one, the other students joined them. Even Peter, eventually, was sent over with to the "big kids," and, miracle of miracles, he wasn't the last one sent over. There were still three people left—a Slytherin boy, a Slytherin girl, and a Gryffindor girl, when the bell rang.

Though James didn't think the day had been much of an improvement for Peter, the boy in question was grinning from ear to ear. "I wasn't the worst!" he cried as they strolled into the Great Hall. "And you know, maybe one day I'll try out for Quidditch or something!"

"Yeah, Pete, you keep that dream alive," Sirius said, only a bare hint of sarcasm in his voice.

AN: Sorry this chapter was kind of… dull. I've been away and just wanted to spit something out and get it up on fanfiction. I'm going away again, but this time with my laptop, so hopefully I'll get something up sometime throughout the week :) Thanks for reading and please review xx