Rule #46: never underestimate James Potter's Christmas spirit
Rule #47: Service your broom frequently
Rule #48: Always make a sexual joke when discussing brooms if at all possible
Wednesday, December 1, 1976
Nards trudged into the locker room, exhausted after a long practice and eager to get back to the castle for dinner. She dropped her gear and slumped down on the bench, trying to gather what little energy she had left, when a twinkling near the ceiling caught her eye. She looked around at the room, taking in the details she had previously missed in her weary state.
"Ooh, look!" she squealed, jumping up and bounding over to Unicorn. "The house elves must have decorated for Christmas!" She pointed at the fairy lights and garlands that decorated the edges of the ceiling, at the mistletoe and red and gold Christmas bulbs that hung from the ceiling, and finally at the small tree in the corner of the room that was covered in Quidditch-themed ornaments.
"Some of these ornaments are personalized," Unicorn mused, examining the tree more closely. "I don't think the house elves would know our positions or Quidditch numbers, do you?"
Seven joined the two of them in front of the tree, smiling knowingly. "I don't think it was the house elves."
"Who else would do this, though?" Unicorn asked. "This is brilliant - it must have taken ages to do!"
"You know, this has James Potter written all over it," Nards said. "I should have known - he loves Christmas, and the attention to detail that's almost ridiculous is exactly his style."
"Glad you like my decorations," James said, surveying his handiwork with satisfaction. "It came out even better than I'd hoped."
"But when did you find the time to do this?" Unicorn asked. "It wasn't here after practice on Monday, and you were in the common room all evening yesterday throwing marshmallows at Remus."
"We weren't throwing them at Remus, we were trying to get them in his hot chocolate," James corrected her. "And I decorated this morning. I had to get up even earlier and cut my run short, but it was worth it."
"Ugh, how do you have the energy to feel festive when it's still dark out?" Nards asked, a look of disgust on her face.
James shrugged. "Rule #46: never underestimate James Potter's Christmas spirit." He proceeded to whistle Jingle Bells ceaselessly, stopping only at dinner when he found himself unable to whistle and eat simultaneously.
Friday, December 17, 1976
"Hey, look, there are presents under the tree!" Sunshine announced, kneeling down to examine the poorly-wrapped parcels under the locker room Christmas tree. She picked one up and shook it, frowning as she tried to guess at its mysterious contents.
"Easy there," James cautioned. "Don't break it."
"Are these from you?" Brandnog asked curiously.
"Potter, you specifically said we weren't exchanging gifts this year," Nards protested.
"And I stand by that statement. We are not exchanging gifts," James replied, sitting down with his long legs splayed out in front of him and his back resting against the wall. "I, as team captain, am giving the members of my team a small token of appreciation of their hard work and dedication. So no complaints, just open them up so we can stop staring at my horrible wrapping job and I can enjoy the look of pure delight on everyone's faces." He passed a parcel to each member of the team, then crossed his arms and stared at them expectantly.
"Well, I suppose it would be rude to keep him in suspense," Bubbles observed, tearing open his parcel enthusiastically, and everyone followed suit.
"Wow, this is excellent," Unicorn said, holding up a sleek leather case.
"I've always wanted one of these," Bransnog added excitedly, opening the case and examining its contents with interest.
"What is it?" Sunshine asked, pulling a bottle from the case and peering at it.
"It's a broomstick servicing kit," Seven answered, beaming. "I suppose this is to prevent Nards from constantly stealing yours, Potter?" She smiled apologetically at Nards. "No offense."
"None taken," Nards said, experimenting with the tail-twig clippers from the kit. "I used almost his entire bottle of handle polish last time."
"You did," James agreed. "But that's not the only reason I got you all these. Rule #47: service your broom frequently."
Bubbles smirked. "I'm with you, Potter, but what does that have to do with Quidditch?"
James laughed. "Glad you picked up on that, Bubbles, because I phrased it that way on purpose. Rule #48: Always make a sexual joke when discussing brooms if at all possible."
"So the other day at dinner when you said you were going back to the common room to polish your broom handle, you meant…" Nards raised her eyebrows at him mischievously.
James ran a hand through his hair and smirked. "You can decide how to interpret that statement." He looked around at his teammates, feeling exceptionally pleased. "Seriously, though, now none of you have an excuse to show up to practice with your brooms looking all scraggly and smudged, all right? You're all excellent players, and your brooms should reflect that."
"Thanks, Potter," Seven said, a wide smile lighting up her serious face.
"You spoil us," Unicorn added.
"Well, you work hard, you deserve it," James replied.
"Should we go back to the common room and observe rule #47?" Bubbles asked.
"You know, I think we should," James said, nodding seriously, and he led the way, grinning to himself.
Rule #49: No wands out on the field
Rule #50: Don't touch the captain's whistle
Rule #51: Don't come to a team run hungover
Monday, January 3, 1977
"Welcome back, team." James surveyed his team; they stood in front of him, holding their brooms and huddled together against the frigid January wind. "I hope you all enjoyed the holiday. Now, it's a new year, and we've got hard work ahead of us. The match against Hufflepuff will be here before we know it, even though it probably feels like it's ages away. I've come up with some new strategies that I think you'll all agree will be extremely effective against Hufflepuff, but before I go into that, let's start with an old standby, all right?"
"Let me guess," Nards said. "Wollongong Shimmy then a mix of straight balls and knuckle balls, blocked by a double eight loop, while I do Bludger Backbeat every other hit against you, and Bransnog takes Seven while she does whatever type of dive she fancies."
"Right in one," James said, grinning. "Although you've neglected to use the correct name for the tactic, Nards."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll rephrase. Are we doing missionary position?"
He smirked. "Yes, Nards, we are."
Sunshine giggled. "Why do you call it that?"
"Because it's tried and true," Seven answered quickly. "It's not fancy, and we've done it loads of times, but it gets the job done, er, just like the sex position it's named after." She blushed slightly.
"Correct," James said.
"Because you have so much experience in that department," Nards commented, smirking, before covering her mouth. "Ooh, sorry, that was a bit mean, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was," James agreed. "I feel attacked, and you haven't even started hitting Bludgers in my direction yet. It's okay, though, I suppose I'll have to carry on somehow." He blew his whistle to signal the start of practice, then kicked off the ground and flew into the air before tossing the Quaffle to Bubbles.
Twenty minutes into practice, James blew his wand to stop what was quickly evolving into a fiasco. Bubbles had aimed his first shot on goal directly at Sunshine's head, and although it initially appeared to have been an accident, it did not bode well in James's mind. However, Sunshine narrowly avoided it and play continued. By the third accidental decapitation, however, James knew he could no longer ignore the situation. This became even clearer when Sunshine saved the fourth shot from Bubbles and threw it so hard back at him that he nearly fell off his broom.
"What are you playing at, you crazy bitch!" Bubbles shouted at her.
"The same as you are, you short, ginger arsehole!" she shot back angrily.
This was the moment James blew his whistle and signaled for everyone to stop . Once everyone had gathered on the ground, he rounded on Bubbles and Sunshine.
"What the hell is going on?" he demanded.
"This git has been trying to knock my head off all practice, but the second I give him a taste of his own medicine he gets all upset," Sunshine said, glaring daggers at Bubbles.
"I'm just trying to score goals," Bubbles argued. "If her head happens to be in the way, well, that's her own fault, isn't it? Keeper is a dangerous position, and if she's not up to the job-"
"Don't be condescending, Bubbles," she shot back. "Just because you've been on the team longer than I have doesn't mean you can tell me how to play my position!"
"Oh, my mistake, I didn't realize you're the only one who gets to give unsolicited advice," Bubbles replied, throwing up his hands in irritation. "If any of you lot want someone to tell you how to handle your romantic relationships, even if you are perfectly capable of making excellent decisions on your own, she's your girl!"
"Yes, because being perfectly able to make excellent decisions on your own means throwing away a year and a half with a girl you love just so you could snog some tart on New Years!" Sunshine exploded.
"You don't know what you're talking about! She's not even a tart-"
"If you don't stop talking right now, I'm going to seriously fuck up your day." Sunshine drew her wand and pointed it at Bubbles, her face grim and her eyes bright.
"Don't bloody threaten me," Bubbles said, drawing his own wand.
"Put your wands away, both of you," James warned, but they both ignored him.
"Are you actually going to hex me?" Bubbles demanded.
"That depends. Are you going to shut up and stop acting like a git?" she replied.
"Put your fucking wands away," James said, more loudly this time, but they gave no indication that they'd heard him.
"Potter, do something," Nards urged.
"I've got it under control," he said through gritted teeth, but apparently he had underestimated the situation, because Sunshine and Bubbles both raised their wands and opened their mouths to shout incantations, but were interrupted when Nards seized the whistle around James's neck and gave it a hard blast.
"Rule number 49: No wands out on the field!" she barked, glaring at Sunshine and Bubbles, who both grudgingly returned their wands to their respective pockets.
"Rule number 50: Don't touch the captain's whistle," James replied, raising his eyebrows at Nards, but privately he knew he had very little right to complain, when she had most likely just stopped a disaster moments before it occurred. "But I do uphold rule number 49." He took a few deep breaths, then fixed Bubbles and Sunshine with his best disappointed dad stare.
"Do I take it that Bubbles and Mrs. Bubbles have split up, and you're upset with him because you're friends with her and you don't think he should be snogging anyone else?" he asked calmly.
Sunshine and Bubbles both opened their mouths to argue, but they quickly closed them again after a sharp look from James, and merely nodded stiffly, looking down at their feet.
"Right. Bubbles, what's the date today?"
"It's the third," he said, still staring at the ground.
"The third of what, Sunshine?" James persisted.
"January," she muttered.
"So I'm correct when I surmise that it's not the 32nd of Nevruary?"
Bubbles muttered under his breath and Sunshine rolled her eyes. They both still fiercely avoided each others' gaze.
"Sorry, didn't catch that," James said cheerfully. "Is it or is it not 'Bring Your Problems to Quidditch Day?'"
"No, it is not," Bubbles admitted.
"So why in the name of my lucky underwear have you brought your problems to Quidditch?" James demanded, losing some of his calm demeanor.
"I'm sorry," Sunshine said. "We were acting childish and petty, and the team deserves better."
"Yeah, what she said," Bubbles added. "I shouldn't have let my personal problems affect my performance, not after I saw first hand what happened last year."
"I'm still mad at you, though," Sunshine said, finally meeting Bubbles's eye.
"Well, I'm still mad at you, too," Bubbles replied. "I suppose that's one thing we still agree on."
"But you're going to have to figure out how to put your differences aside and play together," James said. "Otherwise we have no shot at winning the match." He looked from Bubbles to Sunshine. "Can you do it?"
Sunshine thought for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose."
Bubbles sighed. "Yeah, all right. I don't have much choice, do I?"
"Not if you want to remain on the team," James said. "And after all the effort I've put into training you, not to mention the hours Moony and I spent tutoring you, I'd say that would be a colossal waste, wouldn't you?" He looked around at the rest of the team. "What about you lot?" he asked. "Any of you want to air out any personal grudges you have against each other?" When no one spoke, he blew his whistle. "Right, let's get back to work. And for fuck's sake, nobody else better touch my whistle!"
Tuesday, January 25, 1977
"Can I sit here?" Nards stood in front of the fire in the common room, gesturing at the empty chair beside Sirius.
"No, Moony's sitting there," Sirius replied, crumpling up a piece of parchment and adding it to a pile at his feet. "But Pete would be happy to give you his seat, wouldn't you, Pete?"
Peter scowled at Sirius but didn't argue. Instead he glanced at Nards and said grudgingly, "Yeah, you can sit here if you like."
"That's okay," she said, and Peter returned to his essay, scratching out a sentence and frowning.
"You can take my seat, Nards," Remus said, returning from the dormitory carrying a book and a bar of chocolate. "I'm about ready to go to the library, as this prat won't stop annoying me and I have homework to finish."
"It's Tuesday, Moony," Sirius reminded him. "Tuesday is my official day to annoy you while you attempt to do your homework." He added another crumpled piece of parchment to his pile and shrugged. "If I don't stick to my schedule, I feel like my life is in chaos, know what I mean?"
"You're absolutely intolerable," Remus said, smiling in spite of himself and settling himself on the floor, perhaps assuming (incorrectly) that a change of location would deter Sirius.
"Yes, I am," Sirius agreed. "However, you're fond of me in spite of that, and also, I know it's an empty threat when you say you're going to the library, because you're not allowed to eat chocolate in there."
"He's right," Remus admitted, spreading out his parchment in front of him and taking a large bite of chocolate before pulling out his quill and returning to his essay.
"I don't like this," James said, returning from the kitchens with an armful of snacks and dropping them unceremoniously on the table before plopping down into his favorite armchair. "I don't like this at all." He glared across the room at Bubbles, who sat by the window playing Exploding Snap with his two friends, then scowled down at his lap.
"What don't you like?" Sirius asked, reaching across and grabbing a biscuit from the pile of snacks.
"I don't like the feud between Bubbles and Sunshine," James replied, ripping open a chocolate bar and tearing off a square, then examining it for a moment before setting it down uneaten.
"I thought they'd agreed to put their differences aside during Quidditch?" Remus asked, looking up from his essay.
"They did," James replied, scanning the room until he spotted Sunshine paging through an issue of Witch Weekly with Bubbles's girlfriend. "And they've been perfectly civil to each other during practices. It's just, I dunno, there's a weird vibe. The team feels off." He pulled a textbook from his bag and paged through it idly.
"I know what you mean," Nards said with a sigh. "It doesn't feel right, does it? It's not that we're playing badly or anything, but we're not playing as well as we normally do." She glanced over at Sunshine. "She told me she's been falling behind with her homework as well." She raised her voice and called across the room, "Oi, Sunshine! Get your homework done!"
Sunshine grinned sheepishly and put the magazine aside.
"I wish there was something we could do, but I don't suppose we can do anything except let it all play out," James said, snapping his book shut and shoving it back into his bag.
"Cheer up, you two," Sirius urged. "You can't be mopey - it's Tuesday, and it's impossible to be unhappy on annoy Moony day."
"Every day is annoy Moony day," Remus chimed in, still staring determinedly down at his essay.
"What do you say, Prongs, shall we start with Operation Snowball, do you think?" Sirius asked, ignoring Remus completely.
"I dunno, I don't think I'm in the mood," James answered dully.
"Oh, come on, it'll make you feel better," Sirius insisted, grabbing half the pile of crumpled parchment at his feet and dropping it onto James's lap. "Nards, you may want to duck a bit."
"Why?" she asked suspiciously.
Sirius didn't answer. Instead, he picked up a crumpled piece of parchment and tossed it from hand to hand, then said, "Hey, Moony, did you hear it's supposed to snow tonight?"
"No it's not," Remus said, sighing in exasperation and still refusing to look up from his homework.
"Yes it is," Sirius insisted, "and I think it's going to be perfect conditions for a snowball fight, don't you, Prongs?"
When James failed to respond, Sirius cleared his throat and repeated, more loudly this time, "Conditions are perfect for a snowball fight, right, Prongs?"
"All right, all right, yes, Padfoot, I'd say it's a great day for a snowball fight," James said half-heartedly.
"I disagree," Remus said, but Sirius ignored him and tossed a crumpled piece of parchment in his direction. It hit him squarely in the head, then bounced off and into the fire.
"Nice one, Padfoot," James said, smiling in spite of himself as he tossed a "snowball" from his own pile. This one hit Remus in the shoulder before landing on top of his half-finished essay.
"Don't you two have anything better to do?" Remus asked, throwing the crumpled parchment back at James.
"Ooh, Prongs, he's returning fire!" Sirius said. "Better give it all we've got." He began to pelt Remus with the balls of parchment, and James followed suit.
"Looks like we're out of ammo," James observed, when they had quickly exhausted their supply.
"What a pity," Remus commented wryly, clearing away the layer of crumpled parchment that now covered his essay.
"I suppose we should switch tactics," Sirius said. "Follow my lead." He thought for a moment, then said, "Hey, Moony? Knock knock."
"Nobody's home," Remus said irritably.
"Oh, come on, knock knock," Sirius persisted.
"Nobody is bloody home, Padfoot."
"It's rude to keep someone standing outside on the doorstep when you're clearly home. Knock fucking knock!" Sirius was now practically shouting.
"Bloody hell, all right, who's there?" Remus said, rolling his eyes.
"Banana," Sirius said calmly.
"Ugh, Padfoot-"
"No, the correct response is 'Banana who?'" Sirius said, shaking his head at his friend's idiocy.
"Fine, banana who?"
"Knock knock," Sirius said again. He repeated this three more times before finally answering, "Orange."
"Finally," Remus said, exasperated. "Orange who?"
"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?" Sirius finished, slapping his leg in feigned mirth.
"I hate you," Remus said, attempting to return to his essay.
"Hey, Moony," James said without missing a beat. "What did the Chaser say when someone told him a terrible joke?"
Remus sighed. "I don't know, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me."
"He said…" James began, then broke off when he started laughing uncontrollably. After a minute, he recovered himself enough to finish, "He said 'That joke is Quaffle'," before dissolving once again into peals of laughter.
"What an amateur, laughing at your own joke," Sirius said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Are you working on the Transfiguration essay?" Lily asked Remus, sitting down on the floor next to him with a sigh. "I can't find any books with the right information - I suppose they're all checked out to someone else."
James pulled a book from his bag and handed it to Lily wordlessly, still shaking with silent laughter at his own joke.
"Oh, cheers," Lily said, accepting the book with surprise. "Wow, you even have the relevant pages marked? That'll save me loads of time, thanks." She raises her eyebrows quizzically at James who was now wiping tears of laughter from his eyes."What's so funny?" she asked.
"We're telling awful jokes to annoy Remus," James replied, finally getting himself under control. "Do you know any, Evans?"
"Some friends you are, purposely distracting him while he's trying to work," Lily observed disapprovingly. "Honestly, Remus, how do you put up with them?"
"They have some redeeming qualities," Remus said fairly.
"I do know a rather awful joke, though," Lily continued.
"Excellent, let's hear it, Evans," Sirius urged.
"Remus, is there a hole in your shoe?" Lily asked promptly.
Remus glanced automatically at his feet and shook his head. "No."
Lily grinned. "Then how did you get your foot into it?"
"Evans, you're right, that is truly awful," James remarked. "Well done."
"Thank you, thank you, although I can't take credit for it," Lily admitted. "It's my dad's old standby. He still laughs every time. Anyway, who else has one?"
"I do. Moony, what did the horse say after he tripped?" Peter asked.
"I dunno, what did he say?" Remus said.
"Help me, I've fallen and I can't giddyup!"
"Not bad, Wormtail, not bad," Sirius said, nodding approvingly. "Hey Moony, what do you call a deer with no eyes?"
"No idear," Remus said, taking a bite of his chocolate bar. "Prongs told me that one last time."
Lily snorted with laughter, but Sirius scowled.
"Damn it," he muttered. "Hang on, I've got another one. What is a werewolf's favorite type of correspondence?"
Remus eyed him suspiciously. "I dunno, what?"
Sirius grinned. "A howler!"
"Excellent joke, Padfoot," James said.
Remus tried to repress his smile, but he was not completely successful.
"Ooh, I've got one," Nards said excitedly. "What is a dentist's favorite time of day?" Without waiting for a response, she said, "Tooth-hurty!" barely able to get the punch line out because she was laughing so hard.
Lily looked at Nards, doubled over in amusement, and burst into uncontrollable laughter. Sirius and Remus both groaned and rolled their eyes, but Peter looked confused, and James said, "Wait, I don't get it. What's a dentist?"
Nards wiped tears of laughter from her eyes and began to explain, but only got a few words out before she started laughing again.
"Wait, I can explain," Lily began, but found herself unable to fulfill this promise due to her mirth.
"Bloody hell, it's not that funny," Sirius said, but couldn't help grinning when he realized how much more cheerful both James and Nards appeared. "All right, I'll explain if you can't get ahold of yourselves. We learned about dentists in Muggle Studies."
Sunday, February 6, 1977
James looked at his watch and frowned.
"They're late," he announced. "Did anyone see Sunshine or Bubbles this morning?"
"Not this morning, but I saw them last night. They were, er, up rather late, I think," Seven said cautiously.
James waved away her comment. "That's no excuse. They know the expectation for team runs. If they're not here in five minutes, we're starting without them."
Everyone looked around at each other anxiously. James had never started a team run without a team member, and they didn't like to think about what the consequences would be for Bubbles and Sunshine if they didn't get here soon.
"We're here!" Sunshine called, jogging toward the group with Bubbles tagging along behind her.
"What kept you?" James asked pointedly once the two of them had joined the rest of the team.
"Sorry, we, er, woke up late," Bubbles said evasively. His freckled skin was even paler than usual, and he looked like he might fall over at any moment.
"It won't happen again," Sunshine added, still struggling to catch her breath.
"Are you two okay?" James asked, scrutinizing them more closely.
"Yes, we're fine," Bubbles assured him, and Sunshine nodded.
"All right," James said, shrugging. "Well, make sure you're not late again, or you'll be running laps after practice. Right, Nards can start in front. Let's go." He blew his whistle to signal the start of the run, and they all set off with James bringing up the rear.
After about ten minutes, Bubbles came to a stop, bent over at the waist with his hands on his knees, breathing raggedly. James stopped next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"All right, Bubbles?" he asked. "We can't stop here, come on."
Bubbles gave no response except to draw several gasping breaths, then he finally managed to say, "Is rule number seven still in effect?"
"Er," James began, but before he had time to give any sort of definitive answer, Bubbles turned away suddenly and vomited all over the grass.
The rest of the team, noticing something was amiss, stopped running and doubled back to investigate. Everyone gathered around Bubbles, looking concerned, except for Sunshine, who collapsed on the ground a short distance away and barely moved except to draw breath noisily.
"Okay, what's going on?" James demanded, looking from Bubbles to Sunshine with his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Bubbles, you've become a decent runner, and you haven't puked since our first team run. And Sunshine, you've been keeping up just fine since day one. And yet here you both are, looking like you're about to die. So I repeat, what's going on?" He crossed his arms and fixed them both with his sternest glare.
"All right, all right, we're, well, we're a bit hungover," Bubbles admitted.
"More than a bit," Sunshine said. "It's actually somewhat of a miracle that we even made it down here at all."
"We wouldn't normally drink the night before a team run, but, well, I'm back together with Mrs. Bubbles, and Sunshine and I are friends again, so we wanted to celebrate," Bubbles explained, now sitting with his leg sprawled out in front of him.
"And we went through all the rules - we even checked with Seven, but we couldn't find a rule that explicitly forbade drinking the night before a team run," Sunshine said earnestly.
"They said it was a hypothetical question," Seven said quickly. "And I figured it was a rule number 29 situation, you know?" James stared at her blankly, so she explained, "Keep your mouth shut about your teammates if it's not your business, remember?"
"Right," James said. "Well, I suppose nobody technically broke any rules, but bloody hell, this is not ideal." He thought for a minute. "Rule number 51: Don't come to a team run hungover. You're off the hook this time, but any future incidents will be a clear violation of the rules, all right?"
Bubbles and Sunshine both nodded guiltily, although Bubbles stopped almost immediately, grimacing at the pain the rapid movement caused his head.
"And, since you two have repaired your friendship and I'm really bloody relieved, I'm going to do something unprecedented," James continued. "I'm going to end the team run early, as long as Bubbles and Sunshine promise to never let relationship drama interfere with their friendship, or to show up to a team run hungover."
They both nodded again, Bubbles more tentatively this time.
"I'm also going to need you all to promise to tell anyone who asks that we ran a full five miles. I have a reputation to maintain, after all," James added.
"I'll tell them we did six, just for good measure," Nards said, thrilled with the prospect of ending the run early. "But what's got you in such a good mood? You never end runs early." She eyed him suspiciously.
James shrugged evasively. "I'm just feeling generous today. Does there have to be a reason?"
"I think it's because he's getting quite friendly with Lily Evan," Seven chimed in. "Her birthday was last week and she was really pleased with the gift he got her. And they had some sort of secret birthday celebration that broke a whole bunch of school rules and that nobody is supposed to know about-"
"And yet you know all about it?" James asked, shaking his head in admiration. "Of course you do." He ran a hand through his hair, his face lit up with a hopeful, earnest smile. "I don't want to jinx it by talking about it, so unless you lot want to run some more, let's just go have breakfast, yeah?" Without further discussion, he set off, still smiling to himself.