Lily set down her quill, pausing to gaze around the empty library. Most students avoided the place like the plague, particularly on a Saturday morning, but it was one of the places she'd felt most at home in the castle. The quiet, the soft lighting, the pleasant smell of the old tomes that lined shelf after shelf around her…she'd tried to explain it before, but it had only led to teasing from her friends and to misguided, however earnest, questions from her parents about whether she really ought to have been sorted into Ravenclaw. Severus had been different…she peered around toward the restricted section. He'd had other motivations. Glancing at her wrist, she was surprised that there hadn't been at least a few other visitors. Claire Taylor and Craig Bamford were the only other regulars on the weekend, but even they hadn't popped in.
Fortunately that had meant she'd been able to get nearly everything she wanted accomplished. The notes she'd taken from some of the ancient texts she'd perused on the development of conjuration as a discipline in the early days – separate and apart from its current classification within the broader school of transfiguration – would prove quite useful in answering McGonagall's challenge. She would, it seemed, have to conduct some additional research into its unification with mainstream disciplinary magic shortly after the dawn of the current millennium, but the spirited debates between Apolline Dubois and Tobias Schroder in the days when the Academy was the first of its kind were highly informative, if tedious to decipher given the need for translation spells. The translation happening in her head was still, even after all the time she'd spent exploring the ill-used foreign texts Hogwarts kept, something Lily was getting used to.
Her stomach grumbled. It was nearly half-past ten, meaning breakfast was about to be over. As she packed up her things, her thoughts turned to James. Between extra rounds, lounging in the common room, and…other…time together they'd seen a decent amount of each other and if the present was any indication he knew how to balance that time appropriately. Still…she paused. Still? There was an element of tension in that emotion – her desire for independence and her desire to be, well…desired. She must be – he always made time for her – more desired then? He never insisted on her availability. Easing the last of her notes into her bag so as not to tear the parchment, she shook her head. Alana was right, she had to stop overthinking this. This was a good thing – different from Lionel's inability to connect and prudish insistence on eschewing physicality.
Less than half an hour later she was already on her way back to Gryffindor Tower. The Great Hall had been quite empty as well, arriving at the last minute as she had and she'd been able to enjoy a small breakfast without distraction or comment, time she made a conscious decision to spend reviewing her notes rather than reliving her doubts. Once inside however, there was a sharp contrast. The common room was bustling and Marlene and Alana were bizarrely busy, flitting around the dormitory from trunk to wardrobe to bathroom and back again in the space of a few minutes.
"What are the two of you doing?"
"I told you," Marlene said without turning around.
Alana sighed. "It's Quidditch today, Lily. Merlin…you'd think you'd know."
Lily blanched. "Shite."
"Excuse me?" Marlene gasped. "Did Lily Evans just say shite?"
"Shut up…" Lily shot back, trying to suppress the blood running to her cheeks.
"Well, you are coming aren't you?" asked Alana. "It's less than an hour to start now."
"Of course I'm coming. I'm almost dressed at least. I just…" she dug her house scarf out of her trunk and made her way to her wardrobe, tossing a handful of items onto the bed. Stepping out of her shoes as she dumped off her robes, she sat down to get the black tights she'd selected going on each leg before standing and wiggling herself into them. She felt two pairs of eyes boring into her. "What?" she asked, turning around and tossing her hands in the air.
"Tights second. I think I'm rubbing off on you," Marlene ribbed.
"I'm in a hurry."
"Exactly what I've always said!"
Lily harrumphed, squirming a bit more as she attempted to fix the waist of both garments at once.
"Need your wand?"
"No."
"But it's–"
Lily's hands her already gathering her hair at the back of her head. "A bit windy, I know. Heard on the wireless last night." A few moments later and she was finished, her hair knotted on itself in a messy bun. She slid into her peacoat, buttoning it tight. "Alright. How am I then?"
Her two friends exchanged looks, then shrugged.
Lily frowned. "Well, I don't see how it can be problematic really. It's Quidditch."
"Should we say?" Alana asked.
"Not enough time anyway."
"I am right here…"
"True. But let's go." Marlene said. "We'll tell you on the way down."
Together the three stepped outside and Lily pulled the door shut behind them. Thankfully the trip down the staircase was short and they were stepping into the crowded line to exit the common room in under a minute. Lily looked around. The boys were dressed crisper than usual, their hair being actual messed with and the girls…some looked like they were headed for a special race at the track like her father had treated the family to one weekend.
"What was it you were going to tell me?"
Marlene smirked.
Alana looked at Lily sympathetically. "Well…you might be photographed?"
"Photographed?" Lily hissed.
"Well, it's not every day Hogwarts has four of the top hundred Quidditch prospects in the world on the same pitch. Let alone one in the top ten."
"James. So I'm going to be photographed then."
"Maybe?" Alana offered.
She glanced at her watch. She glanced longingly at the steps to the girls' dormitories. Shite. This one she kept to herself.
James bent his neck both ways, stretching it as the teams waited in the wings for the walk onto the pitch. It was Ravenclaw today, probably their stiffest competition for the Cup this year and of course, it would be their first match of the season.
"You reckon they're looking at any upcoming prospects?" Craig asked in a hushed tone.
"They're always looking," Sirius said. "There's loads in today too, from what I heard. At least five from the top flights across Europe and some from the lower leagues here."
As he stared stoically ahead, James felt a familiar sensation begin creeping out from the deepest part of his brain.
"Glad I've got you on my side today, Crawley," Sirius added, James detecting a slight thump as Sirius must have punched him lightly in the shoulder guard. "Knocking you off your broom all day is going to make a great show for all the cameras."
"You couldn't knock a first year off his broom, Black."
"Not what I heard last year. Angela told me you had a hell of a time getting the stains out of your kit."
"Angela never–"
"Oh, but she did…N.E.W.T. Potions, Crawley. You know Slughorn…plenty of time to talk if you butter him up."
James heard a bit of jostling before Ravenclaw's captain stepped between them.
"It's gonna be a loooong day, Crawley."
Someone slapped hands with Sirius.
"You can bet your stock's going up," Craig laughed.
James whipped around. "SHUT. UP."
All eyes seemed to turn his way.
"The lot of you. We've got a bloody match to play."
Silence fell quickly and it didn't take long for both sides to begin shifting from foot to foot. Who knew what took Hooch so long to check the damn equipment every time. Judging from the swollen stands and the expectant chants, they were probably already late. Just as he looked back however, James saw the referee emerging from the shadows, flicking her wand at each broomstick as she passed the players to ensure there had been no tampering, whether by magic or modification.
"Excellent. I am glad to see each of you are in full compliance to start the season. We'll get underway shortly. First," she paused to dig into her robes, "we have to formalize our side selection."
Lifting her hand from and inside pocket, James caught sight once more of the ribbed edge of a galleon, though it looked somehow shinier than the one that Hooch normally used.
"Today," she continued, "we have been honored by the presence of Clyde Samuelson, Senior Secretary for the Department of Magical Games and Sports and he has been so kind as to provide a commemorative galleon for the coin toss today. Potter. Gryffindor are the defending champions. It's yours to call."
Almost immediately it was airborne.
"Tails," James answered.
Catching it in her gloved hand, Hooch quickly flopped it onto her the back of her left, which was still currently exposed. "It is tails, Potter. Which side then?"
This time of day the sun would largely be overhead, but if it carried on…he pointed to the West end.
"Very well. Sporting behavior today from all of you. Take your positions."
James groaned. That had been roughly three hours ago and as the score climbed ever higher, there had not been a single sighting of the Snitch.
As Maggie turned the Quaffle over again across the pitch, he immediately whipped into action, backtracking for what felt like the hundredth time in an effort to intercept. True to his word, Sirius again battered Crawley allowing James to pluck the red ball from the air and surge up the wing relatively unimpeded. Dodging one Bludger from the opposition, he swung slightly inside the rolled underneath two blue-clad Chasers who almost collided with one another before firing a hard shot into the near hoop for another goal.
As he returned to position, Ravenclaw restarted play swiftly, desperate to ensure they remained in touching distance. They were, primarily, a team that thrived on a brisk pace of play to match their emphasis on pass-and-intercept play over the out-and-out athleticism that typified both the Hufflepuff and Slytherin styles of play recently. Craig moved too quickly to seize and they broke two-on-one against Maggie. James seethed. Whenever the opportunity presented they had completely avoided his side of the pitch. Directing Craig to cover as he stole in from the rear, James closed quickly with Maggie barely keeping tightly enough between them to buy him time. He made eye contact with another of their Chasers as increased his speed. The blonde witch took the feed again and checked back, pressing forward while Craig and Ravenclaw's third attacker jockeyed to offer or deny another option. She was going to have to make her move – yes – as she broke hard inside James surged forward on a collision course. Expecting to catch sight of Maggie her eyes widened and she lurched upward on her broom just as he nosedived dramatically, allowing Maggie to reclaim possession and play a counter one-two with Craig. They extended the advantage to 370-290.
Over the fourth hour, most of the players began to tire and some of the feebler fans began departing the pitch, as the sun began to set and a cool breeze stole in. On a routine restart, a Ravenclaw Bludger almost immediately struck James in the chest, momentarily sending him reeling.
"That was an early swat!" he yelled at Hooch, but the referee merely waved play on.
Each time James took possession, a change of tactics was apparent. If they couldn't tire him, Crawley seemed determined to batter him instead. With Craig and Maggie flagging worse than any of the Chasers, the Ravenclaws were slowly but surely making advances toward equalizing the score. James remained, however, undeterred. As the opposition attempted to switch play while he lurked high, directing Sirius, James surged forward, pilfering the Quaffle. Shrugging off a hard blow to his primary throwing shoulder, he stopped on a dime to send Crawley thudding into the wall of one of the emptying stands before striking the center hoop following a successful feint.
James pumped his fist. It was his twenty-eighth goal of the match, sending Gryffindor back four goals to the good. His celebration was cut short however as Crawley came out of nowhere to blast him in the ribs with an elbow, directing him into the path of a hard-hit Bludger from Sirius that hit him squarely in the jowl. For a moment, his vision went black and Crawley pounded him again as he righted himself to get back into play.
Gryffindors booed loudly, but once again, Madam Hooch was unmoved.
Swinging into the cover role near Crawley, James rubbed his jaw, pressing in where the teeth were. There was a fierce pain building and he tasted blood, but nothing felt loose. Probably another bruised bone. On a counter, play came back his way and he surged past the newly appointed Ravenclaw enforcer seeking desperately to get on the end of Maggie's overthrown long toss. He checked for it. He'd have to stretch. He looked back. Shite. Two Beaters. Two Bludgers. The Quaffle was on his fingertips and he had enough to toss it up slightly in hopes that Craig could catch it from a trailing position. Then, both hit.
James had been hit hard before. He'd battled through two Bludgers. But two to the chest was a bit much, especially on the back of such a disorienting earlier sequence. He held tight, but almost helplessly to his broom as the impact completely reversed his momentum, lifting him from his seat on the broomstick and sending him into freefall.
His initial thought was that at least it had been his chest, but then he realized he could hardly breathe, the cold air only making it worse. His broom was in front of his face instead of below him and as he continued his involuntary descent, he tried to figure quickly how he could get it back under him. Flat and above him and he could try to dangle, below him he could kick, but in front of him, with only one hand and not much farther to go…he twisted his wrist and forced it above his head suddenly and as he'd hoped the broom immediately halted. A searing pain shot through his left arm and he reached up with his right to compensate, getting another hand on the broom in the nick of time. Lost to the game around him, he tested his left arm quickly. No. It was going to be just one. With a firm kick of the air and a strong pull, he got himself back onto his broom determined to head back for the action. Angling himself upward, he saw Colin racing for the Snitch, he was so close – WHACK. His head twisted around violently as he fell, vision blurred, again. He faintly heard the sound of the whistle before he crashed to the earth with a sickening thud.
James had a pounding headache and what felt like small knives digging into his skin above one cheekbone. Something was running down his nose as well, but he dragged himself to his feet. Looking around slowly he saw his broom. Int- int- intact. He groaned. That was…slow? Fumbling over his broom he retook it and was about to kick back toward play when he felt two pairs of arms grab him.
"Oi! -pe. Gi- -e -roo-"
James tried to jerk away, but a soft voice was next to him.
"D-t Ja-"
He felt his broom being taken from underneath him.
"-mes?"
"Uhh…" he managed.
"Sir-"
James shook his head. "Nnn. Jame."
The voice was soft.
He started to turn his head. But someone else held it fast. "Lil-?"
"No."
"Bu. Sof."
"-'s Mag-"
He tried to lift his arm up toward her.
"Ja-es? James? Come on, mate. We w-"
"Let's go," the soft – Maggie coaxed.
"Maggie?"
"Yeah…it's me. Me and Sirius."
"Bugger," Sirius muttered. "Hooch wants to test you."
"Test?"
A stern older witch with odd eyes was in front of him. Who? Had Sirius been asking a question?
"Mr. Potter…" she repeated, he thought. She had said that before.
"Mr. Potter, do you know who I am?"
"Hooch."
"Madam Hooch, but under the circumstances I suppose it will suffice."
"And who is it that I'm talking to?"
"Me."
"Yes, you, but who is that."
"James."
"James?"
"James Potter," he answered gruffly.
"Do you know where you are?"
"Quidditch."
"But where, Mr. Potter?"
He looked around. "Uhh…the pitch. Yeah. Ravenclaw. We won?"
A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth for a moment. "Yes. You won. Now…you are to go see Madam Pomfrey immediately. Your friends here will get your things." She turned away. "Is there someone he can be trusted with? You know there are a number of people here and he's in no shape as you both can see."
There was another voice. Soft, but…strong? "James? James?"
"Bloody hell, Evans. You and the others…witches and wizards. You're all mad. No warmth," Sirius said, shaking his head as he regarded her skirt and tights.
"Very warm," James remarked.
"Is he–"
"Yes, he's a bit…dodgy at the moment. Has to go to Pomfrey. I'm taking him."
She crossed her arms. "Not alone you're not. You've both skived off the hospital wing before."
James turned toward her slowly. "Lils?"
She snapped her eyes to his. "I'm here. What is it?"
He nodded. "Lils."
"Lily. Yes. We're taking you to the hospital wing. Maggie, can you and Anders get his – okay, great. James, I think you're concussed."
He tried to shake his head before quickly aborting the effort. "I like Lils. And I'm fine. Leggo."
She rolled her eyes, but James saw more than a touch of smile from her as well. "No, because you're very much not."
"Am."
"Not," Lily shot back.
Normally there would've been something funny, but when she looked to him for it, she saw only the end of a tongue sticking out from his mouth.
"I hope whatever Madam Pomfrey has for you will turn you back into a seventeen-year old."
Lily supported him on his left and Sirius was on his right as they made their way down the hallway and out toward the school. He was trying to be as sturdy as possible on his own, but everything felt incredibly heavy. As they emerged, heading back toward the school, there was a single flash from a short way off before someone sprinted into the darkness.
"Got your photo," James said.
"Right. Well, not quite the one I imagined, but it's for the best. You'd ruin it at the moment anyway," Sirius snarked.
James turned slowly to Sirius, running a hand through his hair. "You're the ugly one."
"Brilliant, bird brain."
Lily cocked an eyebrow. "Bird brain?"
"You said he's concussed."
James chuckled. Sirius smirked.
"You're both insufferable."
A/N: Well, this went in a very different direction than I expected jumping into the match, but I decided to roll with it and I'm interested to see what you thought. The Quidditch match, I realize may not have been as pulsating as some of its predecessors (hopefully) were, but I needed to work around to James taking a beating rather than having the whole match be that or running commentary on it, which I also didn't think would be realistic in standard match time with everyone wanting to play well for all the scouts in attendance.
I'm also very interested to see what anyone thought of concussed James and the presentation of the concussion. Was it clear that he was concussed from the start? Was that too long? Did you like Sirius and Lily being there in the end or would it work better with just Lily? My concern here is I don't want to go from where they are now and the status in scene one to Lily being insta-super-doting girlfriend. So, hopefully this gets across that she cares a lot about him because she (1) stayed the entire, very long match and (2) raced down to him ASAP, but also is still firm with him and won't hold back her thoughts on he and Sirius's minor antics here.
