If you're reading this, much love. Before anybody gets any funny ideas about what they read in this chapter, don't. There are no ships, no allusions, and no foreshadowing for any future relationships in this chapter. Its a joke. Take it as one.

ENJOI

…

The first few days of November were boring. On the plus side, Hermione had done a complete one hundred eighty degree turn around in terms of attitude, and since had became a new permanent fixture of their growing group. By Friday, if anyone had a question about school work, James or Hermione were close by to help(Hermione) or simply give them the answer(James.)

It was after classes then, that they were all in the Gryffindor common, as James stared at the chessboard with laser intensity. Harry had left the Common Room a nervous wreck, worried about his upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin the next day and babbling something about "getting his book back from Snape." Hermione was surrounded by Kiara, Travis, and Brian as she showed them how to work through a Transfiguration spell, taking over for James when Ron had griped about not having anyone to play Wizard's chess with.

James, having wanted to desperately to learn had thrown his books away and all but dragged a gleeful Ron to the chessboard. Ron, more than happy to explain something to James for a change, took little time to explain the rules to James before they played.

And played they did.

And lost horribly every time, James did.

They were in their third match as James wracked his brain to find the right move. Ron had fooled him, that was for sure. The youngest Weasley boy was a pure, unbridled, unequivocal tactical genius. He herded James's knights, excommunicated James's bishops, annihilated his Rooks, dethroned his Queen, and would then guillotine his King. James was sure his white marble harlot of a Monarch was pining for an affair with Ron, as by the third time they matched off, his Queen was looking to Ron desperately, not him.

"Knight to E3," James Dean finally grumbled.

"Checkmate," Ron declared with a victorious grin.

"How do you figure?" James retorted.

Ron pointed at his Queen, who was mimicking doing a suplex, while James's King quivered and looked up at him desperately. The Queen now had a clear shot at the King, and she took it. Her piece leapt to the space in front of James's King...

He looked away. He didn't want to watch his King be slaughtered, or see the silent screams he made as he was beheaded for the third time in a row.

"Crap," James griped, pursing his lips to one side.

"That's three in a row for me!" Ron declared, holding his arms up in victory. "Another?"

"Sure-" James started, but the entirety of his chess pieces revolted, dragging their broken bodies from the board and waving obscene gestures at him with the remaining limbs they had. "It's my first time! I'm doing my best, okay!"

"Oh, don't worry about it," an older Gryffindor said as he walked by. "They'll forget all about it by tomorrow."

"Rain check?" James asked, and Ron shrugged. They shook hands as the door opened and Harry came rushing in. He waved at them to join him conspiratorially, making James roll his eyes. "Real inconspicuous, dude."

"Shut up and keep quiet," Harry ordered as they all gathered around him. Harry made sure nobody was listening before continuing. "So, when I went to the staff room to find Snape, I found him in there with Filch-"

"Ugh," James scoffed. "Screw Filch."

"Raggedy sack of crap," Brian added.

"-Anyways, he was helping Snape bandage his leg!"

They all stared at Harry.

"His leg was cut up by Cerberus," James reminded Harry. "A few days ago? Dumbledore explained it to us-"

"This was fresh," Harry hissed. "He tried going after whatever it is Dumbledore hid in there!"

"Citation needed," James said through the corner of his mouth.

"I dunno," Hermione shook her head. "He wouldn't try to steal from Dumbledore. I know he's not very nice-"

James and Harry glared at her, but she waved her hands at them furiously.

"But Dumbledore trusts him for a reason!"

"I'm with Harry," Ron decided. "I wouldn't put anything past Snape, and you trust anyone who is a teacher, honestly."

James sucked a breath in through his teeth. "I dunno. Whatever it is, its important enough to be well guarded. I wouldn't be so worried about it, honestly. 'Sides, it ain't worth getting our heads ripped off over, y'know?"

"Thank you," Hermione sighed, throwing her hands up.

"But they do have a point. You do need to work on not blindly trusting of the teachers, though."

"Ugh!"

…

The next morning was bright and cold. The Great Hall was filled with people chattering about the upcoming match as they stuffed their faces with eggs cooked all sorts of ways, six different types of buttered toast, and deliciously fried sausages.

"Eat the toast," James Dean ordered.

"No," Harry mumbled, looking green.

"Quidditch matches can last for days," Ron reminded him. "You need the food."

"Don't remind me," Harry whimpered as he ducked his chin into his chest.

"Just a bite of toast," Kiara, who had been quiet until that point, prodded. "The rye is really good."

"Eat the toast," James ordered again as he popped a sausage into his mouth.

"No," Harry repeated.

"You need your strength!" Seamus told him, trying to force a glass of apple juice in his hands. "Seekers tend to be the ones Beaters try to clobber the most!"

"Thanks a lot, Seamus," Harry grumbled, watching in horror as James piled ketchup onto a plate stacked high with sausage and scrambled egg.

"Does Big Bwuvuh James gottta bweak out the Choo Choo Train?" James asked, smiling wickedly. He picked up a fork full of sausage and egg, dripping grease and ketchup as he imitated a train going down the tracks with it. "Choo choo!"

…

The Quidditch Pitch sat past the Hogwarts Training Grounds. The field was oval shaped, with twenty tall towers all around the pitch, each one alternately decorated for the two House teams that were playing. They had gotten lucky, as Hagrid reserved them tower seats behind the Slytherin goal posts, and this afforded them an amazing view of the immaculately kept pitch.

Dean Thomas, Neville, and Seamus joined them at Ron's request, and they didn't come unprepared. Dean was something of an artist, and had made a flag from bed sheets Ron's rat had ruined which was painted with "POTTER FOR PRESIDENT" with a roaring lion beneath it. Getting into the sportsy atmosphere, Hermione charmed the Lion to actually roar loudly whenever it was waved, leading Seamus to swing the flag wildly as the Quidditch teams took to the field.

The Gryffindors looked confident as they strutted out, led by the stocky and muscular Oliver Wood. He was flanked by the Weasley twins, who waved their bats happily at the applause. The three Chasers, girls James didn't really know(Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell, Hermione informed him) looked serious and barely reacted at all as a nervous and fumbling Harry brought up the rear.

They were met in the middle by the surly, all male Slytherin team. The Slytherin captain was another guy James didn't know, but looked like he'd never met a dentist before and had a sour face on as he was forced to shake hands with Wood. Hooch's voice, magically enchanted to be heard throughout the pitch, prattled on about a clean game, but James ignored her as he pulled his trusty old U.S. Army spotting scope out from his bag and handed Travis the binoculars.

"Whoa," Dean breathed in awe. "Where'd you knick that?"

"The dumpster behind 'Davis and Doris's Antiques,'" James answered honestly.

"Wicked," Dean and Seamus chorused.

The Quidditch players took off, and with a blow of the whistle, the game commenced. It became quickly apparent that the Gryffindor Chasers were far superior to Slytherins. Marcus Flint(Lee Jordan had called his name out) flew relatively well, but he was more interested in being a brute and trying to power through his plays than be precise or make play calls. Adrian Pucey, a third year, proved to be more than just a handsome face, though, as his flying was inspired, dodging Bludgers and intercepting passes.

The Gryffindor Chasers were on a whole different level. Angelina was tall and had tremendous arm strength, making long passes and catching easily with her bigger wingspan. Alicia Spinnet was small, but agile, making cuts through the Slytherin's lines and breaking open for passes deep into the Snake's territory. Bell was an all arounder, being between the other two in skills, and making the Gryffindors a cohesive Chaser unit capable of pulling off intricate flight patterns, passes, and shots on goal.

"And the Quaffle is intercepted by Angelina Johnson-AGAIN! Fifth time this game!" Lee Jordan proclaimed from his commentary booth. "Great looker, that one- Right, right, Professor, I'll stop- AND GOAL! KATIE BELL SCORES! TEN MORE POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!"

The entire school, witch exception to the Slytherins cheered, Seamus and Dean waved their flag, the Lion roared, and James spotted Harry in the scope doing a loopdieloop in celebration before resuming his orbital patrol above the pitch, Terrence Higgs right behind him. Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, angrily tossed the Quaffle back into play, and the game resumed.

And back and forth it went for the first thirty minutes. Wood was an excellent Keeper, as the four shots on goal the Slytherins managed to get were neatly blocked. Miles Bletchley, however, was not having a good day. Katie Bell had scored twice on him in ten minutes, and the other two had scored three, giving Gryffindor with an eighty to nothing lead. He had only managed to block three other shots on goal the entire game up to that point, and he was beginning to get chewed out by Flint.

James decided he didn't like Flint. He wasn't a very good leader. The entire reason they were losing was because Flint was trying to outbrute the Gryffindor team, whereas Angelina had her girls outflying them. They often used the Weasley's as cover, who never even bothered to harangue Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker, and focused entirely on keeping their team's flyers safe.

And keep them safe they did. Watching the Weasley's fly was like watching a pair of bulldozer's carve up the pitch. They flew above and below their Chasers, clearing the road for them as the girls danced, jinked, and dove around their Slytherin counterparts. It was like watching a violent aerial dance as the Gryffindors took turns slicing through everything the Slytherins threw at them.

"Slytherin in possession, Pucey flying like a madman out there, trying to evade the Weasley's- he's clear! For the first time in ten minutes, Slytherin might get a shot through on goal! Wait, is that the Snitch?"

Pucey fumbled the Quaffle in shock as a bolt of gold flew past his left ear, and suddenly, Higgs and Harry were both dive bombing. The Snitch veered up to the sky, though, and they both veered with it, and just as Harry had leveled of with the Snitch, he was feet away from catching it, his Nimbus 2000 far faster and more maneuverable than the broom Higgs was on. He was a foot away from catching it, inches...

The entire crowd let out a collective "OOF!" though, when Marcus Flint collided with Harry. Higgs, not expecting his Captain to interfere, had to pull back and veer off course to miss colliding with Flint and Harry, who was now holding on for dear life, one hand only on his broom.

"FOUL!" Wood thundered. "That's a bloody foul!"

Harry managed to get himself slung back on his broom, one eye bruised and his nose bleeding from where Flint had elbowed him. Boos filled the pitch, and Flint had an argument with Hooch, who wasn't having any of his nonsense and threatened to have him thrown out.

"Red card him!" Dean roared. "Throw him out!"

"Red card?" Ron asked.

"It's a lawn fairy thing," James explained. "In soccer, grievous penalties are punished by refs giving players the red card, which means they're ejected from the game."

"YEAH!" Ron hollered, pounding the banister in front of their tower seats. "RED CARD HIM!"

Hagrid, Dean, and Ron led a chant screaming for Flint to be redcarded, then, as Hooch called for a penalty shot to be taken by Gryffindor, which Alicia Spinnet easily scored.

"One Hundred Twenty to nothing, GRYFFINDOR!" Lee Jordan proclaimed as the Quaffle sailed through the posts.

The game got brutal after that. Every time Hooch wasn't watching, Fred and George would club the nearest Slytherin. Flint would elbow anyone near him in the face, an obvious foul. Spinnet was literally pulled from her broom by the Slytherin Beaters and thrown to the ground, and it was only because Hooch managed to cushion her fall that she didn't splatter the pitch. Wood, Harry, and Higgs were harassed by Bludgers, the Chasers were all but brawling, and the Beaters were all but beating anyone near them senseless.

In the ensuing chaos, almost nobody saw it, at first. James, however, no longer interested in watching a cage match, was just keeping an eye out on his twin when Harry's broom began to buck. Harry was forced to ride it like a cowboy as it rebelled beneath him, completely out of control.

"James!" Hermione gasped.

"I see it," He responded. He honestly didn't know what was going on, so he gave Hagrid the spotting scope.

"Yeh, that's dark magic, that is," Hagrid growled.

"What?" James and Travis demanded.

"Its not just a malfunctioning broom or something?" Brian proposed. "Maybe after he got hit?"

"Something's wrong with Potter's broom!" Lee exclaimed, and the stadium gave a collective gasp. The broom had thrown him from it, and he was now holding on with his hands as it tried to throw him off.

"Nope," Hagrid shook his head. "Those brooms don't malfunction like tha'. Somebody's doing it with magic, strong magic, too."

"There!" Hermione pointed at the faculty tower. "Its Snape!"

"What?" Hagrid demanded. "That's preposterous!"

"Say what!?" James grabbed the binoculars from her hands.

"Its a curse! I've read about them, they have to keep eye contact to keep working!"

Sure enough, there was Snape, wrapped in all black winter garb with unblinking eyes, muttering silently.

"That dick," James seethed, handing the binoculars to Ron and rifled through Travis's coat pocket. "Let's go!" James ordered as he stowed the knife from Travis and grabbed Hermione by the shoulder.

"Me? Why me!?"

…

Harry was being slung around like a lone windmill blade by the time James and Hermione had managed to shove their way to the faculties tower. They clambered up the steps and were halfway there when Harry, holding on for dear life, spiraled by.

"WAohWAohWAohWAoh!" he screamed as he flew past in a scarlet blur.

"I don't wanna know how sick he's going to be when he gets off that thing," James muttered.

"This game is so stupid!" Hermione huffed. "Why aren't the professors doing anything!"

James didn't bother with a reply and they fell quiet as the neared the faculty box. They reached the top and James, being resourceful, pulled the flap of the green and silver tapestry covering the seat's framework and slung himself beneath the bleacher seats, and quickly found Snape's feet. Pulling out the knife, he went to slice the slimy teacher's ankle when Hermione slapped him.

"No!" she whispered, pointing down the line. "Push somebody over! Make a distraction for me!"

Grumbling, he let Hermione take his spot and scooted over her body to come to rest behind the ankles of a slender, well dressed man with neatly pressed slacks and pointy shoes. He looked back to Hermione, and she nodded. With a might heave, he yanked on the legs the man's trousers, then pushed on the calves as hard as he could.

"Oh!" the voice of Professor Quirrell yelped as he, with pants around his ankles, was sent tumbling backwards.

…

"Oh!" Quirrell screamed as he felt his pants get pulled down from his ankles. He was then shoved, and he plodded backwards into a sea of his colleagues, naked legs shivering from the sudden shock of cold.

"The turban, you fool!" the Dark Lord whispered. "It's coming undone!"

Quickly grasping the cloth, he held it to his head with one hand, reeled for his pants with another, and muttered his apologies. Something- or rather, someone, had pushed him in the legs as he was cursing that boy, and he had a right good idea who it was.

"Professor Snape, you're on fire!" Charity Burbage squeaked.

On second thought, maybe he didn't have an idea, but rather knew who was behind it.

…

James and Hermione scrambled from beneath the bleachers, and James, seeing the stairs now crowded with teachers and not seeing any other option, led Hermione into the tower's framework. Propping himself up in the far corner of the wooden beams, he yanked the Slytherin banner that decorated the faculty tower back in place. Hermione, not having any other way to fit in between the tightly framed wooden beams that surrounded them, ending up having to saddle James's hips and wrap her arms around his neck to not fall backwards or down.

"Don't get any funny ideas," James joked as he held her secure by the belt loops of her jeans. "I'm a good, pure Christian boy."

Hermione blushed, scowled at him, then made a disgusted face before reeling back and socked him in the eye. She punched him so hard, his head whipped back and conked off the oak support beam behind him, and he saw tweety birds and stars as he shook his head.

"Ow," James whispered. "Too soon?

"No, you just deserved it," Hermione hissed.

"Yeah, I probably did."

Hermione scoffed at him. "Damn right you did."

…

By the time they got back to their tower, James was nursing a bruised right eye socket and Hermione's knuckles were split open. She wiped them off on his Metallica t-shirt, to his dismay, but he shrugged it off.

Joke was totally worth it.

"Potter's back on his broom and racing across the pitch! Does he see something we don't?" Lee Jordan commented as the took their seats.

"What happened to you?" Travis asked as James took his seat next to his taller brother.

"She lit Snape on fire, I depantsed Quirrell, we hid with her on my lap atop wooden beams three hundred feet above the ground, had a moment, she actually cussed," James shrugged. "It was a good time."

Travis and Brian chuckled. Hagrid offered him his scope back, but considering his dominant eyes was now bruised and beaten, he held his up. "Not a good idea right now."

"Alrigh'," Hagrid laughed, looking at the thing with impressed eyes. "Nea' little thing, isn't it? Mind if I borrow i'? I wanna go bird watching later."

"Yeah, go for it," James muttered as he rubbed his eye and winced.

"Prolly shouldn't do that," Brian admonished. He pulled his wand and a handkerchief, mumbled a spell, and it filled with ice cubes. Once tied neatly, he handed it to James.

"Thanks," James nodded his head and looked back to pitch.

"Harry Potters diving!" Jordan called out.

Harry was, indeed, diving, arm outstretched. He plummeted towards the pitch, but right before he hit, he leveled off and his hand clapped over his mouth. James cocked his head as his twin fell off his broom sideways, losing his balance. Tumbling side over side, Harry sprang to his feet, spit into his right hand, and held up a golden ball with silver wings.

James almost fell out of his seat laughing.

"I caught it! I caught the Snitch!" Harry cried victoriously to the shocked-into-silence crowd.

"Caught it?!" James roared as he bent over, holding his sides. "He practically ate it!"

…

"He didn't catch it!" Marcus Flint could be heard screaming as Hagrid led them to his hut for a celebratory late-afternoon lunch. "He practically ate it!"

Harry was held aloft atop of Ron and Travis's shoulders as James and Brian, arms slung around each others shoulders, belted the lyrics of Queen's "We Are The Champions." From his lofty position, Harry conducted them as they sang while Kiara and Hermione brought up the rear, laughing at their antics.

Hagrid unlocked his hut, corralled Fang, and let them in. James leaped onto Hagrid's bed and was tackled by Fang, who cuddled his face into James's lap. Kiara went starry eyed at the sight of the boarhound and immediately sat next to James to baby talk the spoiled dog. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at Hagrid's table while Brian and Travis finished off singing Freddie Mercury's iconic lyrics outside.

Hagrid smiled at Fang and patted his big, drooly head before putting tea on the fire. He eased himself in his hand made, wood and leather easy chair, and gave a contented sigh.

"'Nother day, 'nother fine victory," he cheered Harry, who grinned.

"Thanks, Hagrid," he replied.

"Yeah, great work, go team, woooo..." James murmured as he plopped back onto Hagrid's furs, arms held up and making circles with his fingers.

"You okay there?" Ron laughed.

"My eye hurts,"

"As it should," Hermione huffed, but nobody missed the blush on her face.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatevuh," James waved her off as he sat back up. "Still can't figure out why Snape'd curse you like that."

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that was Snape," Hagrid shook his head as he got up to pour them all tea.

"Are you serious?" Travis asked as they walked in. "We literally watched him curse Harry's broom."

"He could have been counter cursing Harry's broom," Brian added, taking a cup from Hagrid before looking at James. "Is that possible?"

James shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't managed to find any books about curses," he jerked a thumb at Hermione. "She's the one who recognized it as a curse."

They all turned to her, making her squirm. "Well, yes, it could have been a countercurse. I mean-they both require constant eye contact-but surely it would have thrown Harry off sooner-without knowing if anyone else was doing the same we couldn't-"

"Ugh," James threw up his hands and fell back again. "This is pointless! Just give us an answer in plain English!"

"Yes," Hermione growled. "It's possible it was a counter curse."

"See?" Hagrid said, as if that proved his point. He handed James and Kaira cups of Earl Grey and patted his stomach. "Case settled."

"But Hagrid!" Harry pounded his fist on the table. "We know he's after something- we know he's tried to get past the three headed dog!"

"How do you know about Fluffy?" Hagrid demanded.

"Fluffy?" they all chorused.

"Yes, Fluffy," Hagrid said mockingly, rolling his eyes. "What was I supposed ter name him, Cerberus?"

"Well, to be fair, that's what I've been calling him," James pointed out.

"Well, you can't even name an owl properly," Travis quipped, tossing rock cake crumbs at him. "You have the imagination of a rock."

"Hey! I have creativity," James defended. "I draw!"

"Yeah, people and landscapes," Brian quipped. "Real talent there, Bob Ross."

"Curse your sudden betrayal," James muttered.

"No' ter sound mean or nuttin', but he's got a poin', you know," Hagrid added out of the corner of his mouth.

"Gee, thanks, 'Grid."

"Anyways," Harry interjected. "So Fluffy's yours?"

"O' course he's mine! I won 'im from some Greek chappie I met in a pub las' year. Lent him ter Dumbledore meself to guard the- ...I should not have said that."

"Guard the what, Hagrid?" Harry asked with great interest.

"No, no," Hagrid shook his head vehemently. "I should no' have said tha'. Don't ask me no more abou' it."

"But Snape's trying to steal it!" Ron and Harry whined.

"Allegedly," James added, holding up a finger. "We have no real proof and have established that he could have been performing a counter curse on Harry's broom."

"Really don't see how its any of our business," Kiara defended Hagrid sheepishly.

James held his hands up in a 'Thank you!' motion.

"That's a load a rubbish," Hagrid. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher. He'd do nothing of the sor'."

"I'm with ya big guy," Travis shrugged. "But defending that argument just because he's a teacher ain't really a good reason."

James again held his hands up in a 'Thank you!' motion.

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Ron cried.

"Allegedly," James, Brian and Travis interjected. "Again, it could have been a countercurse," James continued.

"Now I'm telling yeh, yers wrong!" Hagrid contested hotly. "I don' know who was making Harry's broom act like tha', but it wasn' Snape! He's trying to help Dumbledore! And he wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now all o' ya listen- for yer own good- you all forget about Fluffy an' you forget all 'bout wha' he's guarding, tha's strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel-"

Hagrid looked at all of them, who were all listening very intently.

"I... should no' have said tha'."