"And remember, just because you made the team last year, doesn't guarantee you a spot this year, all right?" asked Bella, the new team captain since Felix left last year. She was much more sensitive to the well-being of her potential players, and had chosen to make her speech at a reasonable hour and inside instead of making us freeze. She was quickly gaining much more favour than Felix had.

I looked around me at the hopefuls. I recognised them all from the common room if I didn't know them personally, and I spied Alice Fletcher sitting amongst them. I was on the bench with all the leftover players from last year's team. Elise and Michael flanked me, whispering over me about Michael's OWL choices. We weren't too worried about making the team, the whole affair was really just focusing on the new beaters and a seeker.

Many looked promising for the job, a few of Michael's friends who sat behind us were quite burly, some sounded like they'd already taken some bludgers to the head. The other important find would be the seeker. I wondered whether that's why Alice was here. She was slight and deft fingered- as I had witnessed with Frank.

Melissa's speech was short- again, quite unlike Felix- and we were quickly out of the locker room and into the air. Elise, Michael and I demonstrated the Chaser drills and flew side by side as we practiced throwing the ball between ourselves. She gave us knowing smiles meaning we were probably on the team.

When we, the prospective Chasers, had finished our tasks, we went and sat in the stands to watch the others. My friends weren't there to cheer me on this time, my staying on the team wasn't really a question.

We watched for the best beaters as Melissa released a rain of bludgers onto the pitch. She had announced the exercise as 'last two standing' but no one was entirely sure whether or not she was joking.

A large boy was the first to surrender. A bludger came at him full on at which point he looked around wildly to find that he was holding the bat wrong and when finally he took a swing the bat broke and the bludger only missed his head by a hair's breadth.

The pitch was too crowded with big boys and bludgers to tell who hit the diverted bludger, but whoever did hit it with incredible force and it came hurtling towards us, only narrowly missed by the next boy to exit the pitch, deciding the danger of Quidditch was much too much for his liking.

"Blimey! Whose was that?" asked Michael, wide eyed as he stared at the whizzing bludger, following it around with his entire body. Our gazes fell back to the smattering of beaters left to find one, unexpected choice being congratulated and awed. Bella flew up and shot a large Freezingnet, catching the bludgers which fell motionless to the ground.

The form on the broom was substantially smaller than expected and unmistakably female. I wasn't sexist or anything, it was just because the girls who were into Quidditch were often more interested in being anything but beaters. However, there were some excellent female beaters, like in the Holyhead Harpies.

Alice Fletched winked at me as she swung her bat into the air and shot up to retrieve it. I had to admit, I was thoroughly impressed and astounded. Even Bella had trouble composing herself and trying to pretend that it was still anybody's game for the position and she'd have a hard time filling it.

When we had watched all of the prospective seekers fumble for the snitch for a while, Elise, Michael and I tired and returned to the common room to wait for Bella, who still had to decide who she was picking.

We chatted for a while about the strength of this year's team, speculating at the weakness of the Slytherin team optimistically. Finally, Bella emerged through the portrait hole. She looked exhausted, but still in high spirits as she spotted us and sat down.

"So..." I began, "are we on the team?" Bella shrugged and flashed me a smile, but she left the answer ambiguous. We shared a knowing smile before pestering Bella about her other choices, all questions she ignored, and then finally decided it was time for lunch, where I rejoined my friends.

Though it had been a week since the Remus incident, the tension between Sirius and I hadn't died down. He sat a little way away by himself, shooting icy glares in my direction, more immaturity. I didn't have time for it, so I ignored him entirely, pretending he wasn't there. As the time without him had worn on, I began to realise that I missed him. Though I loved them all equally, I was closer to Sirius than my other friends. He let me in more than he did the others, and I saw every part of him, good and bad, where the others tried to mask it.

With so much free time, no longer taking time out to plan schemes with Sirius, I began engrossing myself in Quidditch and, oddly enough, my studies. I developed a new appreciation for magic, especially in Defence Against the Dark Arts, where the intoxicating Professor Ashworth was an excellent catalyst to help any straight man want to impress and all in all, do better.

It was in one of those classes which started a long chain of events which ended my painful period without my best friend.

It started with a large wardrobe which sat in the middle of the room, the desks hastily shoved to one side. The room looked better like this, more homelike, back in the times when Spriteworth was teaching. It was always so much harder to resent Professor Ashworth, however, when she strutted in with her never-ending legs.

"Good morning class," she said with a faux-sweet smile, playing with her wand between her hands, awaiting an answer. It came eagerly in the baritone chorus of the breaking voices of thirteen year old boys.

"Good morning, Professor," it chimed, masking the 'tsk's of disapproving and jealous girls.

"She's not even that pretty," Lily harrumphed beside Remus, who shrugged, but did not agree nor disagree. He remained, however, completely unaffected by her power. It was both admirable and pitiful, and when we were still friends Sirius and I had teased him, explaining that he didn't know what he was missing.

"So," Professor Ashworth said, with a slight pout to silence all the boys, the girls reluctantly following suit. "who can tell me what a boggart is?" Naturally, two hands flew up, and for a moment it seemed like a competition between Remus and Lily as to whose hand could lift higher until Lily was practically standing from her place on the floor. "Yes, Mr Lupin?" she asked with a wink. Lily looked practically ready for murder.

"A boggart is a shape shifter which takes the form of its victim's worst fear," he recited fresh from the textbook, albeit a little guiltily as he peered over at the red-faced Lily.

There was a sudden buzz throughout the room as everyone began to confess their deepest and darkest fears. The trivial ones were spoken aloud, spiders, clowns, a few who tentatively admitted 'the dark', but most of these admonitions were made by Gryffindors, people who had seen little of the true dark. The Slytherins shifted in their chairs, their faces overcast. Sirius was among them, and refused to talk.

"Now now, hush," the ensuing shushing sound ghosted over our heads and settled like an enchantment on the room so that everyone stilled, attention turning back to its rightful place, glowing on the black haired beauty. "Let's not get too worried, now shall we? What am I here for if not to teach you how to deal with your fears. How about you, dearie?" she pointed with a perfectly painted red fingernail and beckoned a frightened looking Sophia.

She paced nervously up the room, apprehensively fidgeting with the sleeve of her robes with one hand, clutching her wand with the other.

"Don't be worried, Miss Woodspurt, now I want you to think of what you fear most," Sophia nodded.

"Snakes," she squealed, almost cringing at the very word.

"Snakes then, now I want you to think of something funny, can you do that to me. Mr Lupin, you are a very clever young man, can you tell me what a boggart's biggest weakness is?" Lily growled as she said this, and Remus, not overcome by that need to impress which seemed to grip every other boy she directed a question to.

"I think Lily does, Miss," he conceded, and Lily, though resenting that Remus passed on the question to her, took what she could get and answered brightly;

"Laughter."

The room relaxed slightly, but not enough to stop a few hands from shaking.

"Good, very good," said Professor Ashworth, slightly ruffled by being overlooked by a male student but focusing back on the task at hand. "Well, the spell to bring on laughter is simple. Miss Woodspurt, when I release the boggart, I want you to picture that image of what makes you laugh and say Riddikulus,Can you do that for me?" Sophia nodded and drew in a shaky breath.

"Ok then, three, two, one, Alohamora."

At first nothing happened. And then we heard it, a hiss, and before to long a scaly green head poked against the wardrobe door, followed by an endless body that coiled around itself until it towered almost touching the ceiling. Beady black eyes stared with malice as a pink tongue flickered out and the head swam lower, closer to Sophia. It emitted a faint hiss and then suddenly, massive white fangs emerged and lunged.

"Riddikulus!" Sophia yelled, and the massive snake fell to the ground and flopped, the green of its scales suddenly a pink worm. There was a sudden outburst of relieved laughter and the worm began to writhe helplessly on the floor.

"Excellent! Excellent! Alright, up all of you, form an orderly line and let's continue!"

The class was more joyful than any one to date, and the class was in constant hysterics, which made the whole affair much harder, considering that the boggart would only become a terrifying creature worthy of attacking when we weren't laughing.

When Remus went, his little white orb became a cockroach. Peter's boggart had a hard time determining especially what it was that he was afraid of, and finally Peter got tired of waiting and it turned into large pink flamingo which squawked anxiously.

My heart almost broke as I watched Sirius stand shakily in the shadow of his father, crouching slightly considering the ceiling wasn't high enough for him in Sirius' estimation, disapproving and with a strong fist aimed at him. Sirius muttered a half-hearted spell, though it was enough to stifle his voice so that instead of shouting insults, he began to purr. The class laughed enough, but Sirius looked too upset for my liking.

Lily went white as the boggart fell upon her. A scarlet howler opened itself and began to yell at her. Unsurprisingly, Lily's worst fear was failure. Easily enough, she changed the insults to glowing praise before sitting down, giving Remus a satisfied high-five.

Finally it was my turn, and as arrogant as it may have seemed, I just couldn't think of anything that truly scared me. I thought of Malignatious, who sometimes plagued my dreams, but his imprisonment had been enough closure for me. I thought of Voldemort, but he was still an abstract figure in my mind. Even I had no idea what would spring at me when it came to my turn, but I kept firm in my mind the image of a Chudley Cannons' uniform.

But I could not have been prepared for what I saw.

The boggart, at the moment a mouse, sparked up at a new presence, and suddenly it took the form of my mother. I heard a snort from behind me, until someone screamed. The figure was lying down, suspended in mid-air, she was breathing or smiling, she wasn't even telling me off. She was dead.

My heart lurched at the realisation of it, and at exactly that moment the figure morphed into my father, eyes glassy, mouth half open but unable to take in any breath. Again, into Sirius, Remus, Peter, Spriteworth.

Lily.

Even though I heard her gasp from behind me, even though I knew it was her, there she lay in front of me, the picture of beauty, so bright even in the dullness of death that she outshone the falsity that was my Professor.

The room was still as I took a step towards her body. The shape didn't change again, it just lay in perfect stillness. I felt a horrible pain rocked me as I extended a hand to touch her pale cheek. Someone gasped as our skin made contact, as if she would suddenly sit up and scream like in some cheap horror film, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, I felt a cold more freezing than a wintry night at the tips of my fingers, and suddenly tears shook me. The image changed once more, blurring shapes, all dead and cold beneath my touch.

Slowly, I felt warmth compensating the cold by my fingers. A warm hand slid up my back and I turned to find Lily's bright green eyes pricked with tears and words neither of us could say. I swallowed a lump in my throat and nodded to her, telling her I was fine. I wasn't, but she didn't need to know that.

It was then that I became acutely aware of half of the third year watching this silent exchange and I felt suddenly extremely ashamed. Professor Ashworth thought it was high-time to step in. She banished the hateful thing back to his wardrobe and ushered everyone out of the room. She couldn't even look at me as I grabbed my bag and left.

A/N: Sorry, I've been away for two weeks and haven't been able to post, I swear I haven't forgotten you! So, I couldn't think what James would be scared of, he's too arrogant to be properly afeared in my mind, but I suppose death itself, something over which he has no control and that will have such a devastating affect on his life was quite fitting. It also shows in a way the man that Harry was that James could never be, the man who was ready to die.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I love this part in book three anyway. Please review with your own ideas of what James could have been afraid of so I could kick myself up the arse!