Oh, wow. Time really gets away from you, if you let it. To explain my extreme lateness, well, I know I told y'all before that I had the performances of my play on the 19th and 20th, and that weekend I also had a research paper to finish, plus soccer practice, etc. Last weekend, I'm sorry; I just didn't have the time on the computer. I had Thanksgiving, 3 consecutive sleepovers, a global video project, and a major English project. So I'm extremely sorry. (I feel especially horrible as someone just told me how glad they were I updated once a week…and now….three weeks later…)
Believe it or not, I don't own the Harry Potter universe.
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Chapter 12: Unforeseen Developments:
Alanna shook her head, glancing back at the menacing figure following behind her. The figure that was Lily Evans.
"Lily, you don't have to come down here. It's not as if I'm going to run off." Alanna gestured at the wide expanses of the Hogwarts grounds. She'd love to run off.
Lily flashed her teeth. "Just making sure."
Alanna frowned.
"You know, if you do that 199,999 more times, you'll get a wrinkle on your forehead," Lily advised.
"Thanks, Lils. I'd be really grateful for that bit of advice if I didn't already know I'd have grey hair by the end of the year."
Lily raised her right eyebrow. "Why's that?"
"SrsBlck"
"Unclench your teeth and try again."
"Sirius Black." Alanna frowned. Only 199,998 more to go, she thought distractedly.
"He's not that bad."
Alanna raised both of her eyebrows. "Lily Marie Evans, I know you tend to focus on Mr. Potter's deficiencies, but that shouldn't blind you to Sirius's faults."
Lily grinned. "Those were abnormally large words, you know."
"I know. I'm trying to get this through your abnormally large brain. Having Black as a potions partner is every bit as bad as having Potter for one."
"But you're passing, at least."
Alanna shrugged. "Black is too busy going googly-eyed over Samantha Reed to notice what I'm doing. He does pretty much what I tell him to do."
"Right, and how is Sirius Black passing when I'm not?!"
"Lily, calm it down. First of all, he's smarter than he acts." Hard not to be, really. Just imagine if he were actually that stupid. Alanna contemplated the prospect for a moment. Nope, not possible. "And besides, Professor Avogadro is just trying to prove a point to you."
"A point." Lily kicked a tuft of grass, glaring at it as if she'd like to beat it into a bloody pulp. "Why can't he just say it? Instead of failing me?" Lily targeted another tuft of grass, and annihilated it with her sneaker.
"Because then it'll get filed away with all the rest of the useless knowledge you keep stored in your head. This way, you get to figure things out yourself." Alanna had to laugh at the expression of Lily's face. "He wants to make a lasting impression."
"Well, if he doesn't watch it, I'm going to make a lasting impression on James Potter's skull."
Alanna feigned surprise. "That's awfully violent, Miss Lily."
"Well, it'll be his own fault. Why does Potter insist on making my life hell?"
"He's not doing anything socially unacceptable. You're the one who's taking offense to it."
"He's stalking me."
"Is not. He's—chasing is a better word—He's chasing you. And everyone other than you thinks it's sweet."
"He is not sweet. He is a cockroach." Lily withered yet another tuft of grass with her glower. "You can't seriously think he's being sweet."
"Well, I don't think so. But I don't think he's out to ruin your life, either."
Lily raised both of her eyebrows in an expression of extreme doubt. "Want to bet on that?"
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Unfortunately (for Alanna), it was then that the two girls reached their destination. The Quidditch pitch. Alanna scowled mightily. She'd have wrinkles in no time if she kept on like this.
"Lily. Please. Do not make me do this."
Lily smirked. "You promised you would. Plus, you're an awesome keeper. If you don't make the team, I'll eat Sara's sneakers. On my honor."
"Great," Alanna muttered to herself. "If I make it, I get to hang around with Black and Potter for hours every day, and if I don't, I get to watch Lily eat footwear."
Lily beamed. "See? It's a win-win situation."
Alanna killed an innocent tuft of grass that Lily had missed earlier. "On to tryouts then, I suppose," she murmured. "And hopefully I end up with the lesser of the two evils."
Lily grinned, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "That's right, Aly. Get yourself off to tryouts. Scat."
And with a last withering look at Lily, Alanna did go.
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James Potter surveyed the ten Gryffindor students who'd shown up for the tryouts. One beater, one chaser, and a keeper. Seven of the ten wouldn't make the team. He turned his head to glance at those already on the team.
Sirius Black, beater. He was slouching, scowling, and completely ignoring three sixth year girls who were eying him with interest. When he saw that James was looking at him, though, Sirius raised his head in acknowledgement, and the usual spark of mischief slipped into his grey eyes. He grinned briefly, then went back to slouching and scowling, letting his elegant black hair obscure his face. James just shook his head. Sirius was flirting like mad, and no one but him would ever realize it.
The seeker was a short, brown-haired girl by the name of Corey Marshall. She was the quickest flier James had ever met, and had a talent for being everywhere at once on the pitch. A third-year, she didn't socialize much with James's crowd, and she had plunked herself down by the stands to read a book.
The remaining chaser was Nick Myers, a sixth year, and James's fellow chaser. He was tall and blonde, and could throw the quaffle fast enough and hard enough to bruise, if you were unlucky enough to get in the way. He was known for scoring goals from far outside the scoring areas. He was sitting on his broom, hovering about three feet off the ground, and every once in a while, he'd nonchalantly slip into a loop-the-loop, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
James turned back to look at his prospects. Three girls and seven boys, all milling around and looking nervous. He shook his head, then opened his mouth, organizing them into groups based on which positions they were trying out for.
"Sirius, will you get out a bludger and test the beaters?" James called out, referring to the two stocky boys who were shifting nervously from foot to foot.
Sirius rolled his eyes, but nodded. James couldn't help but shake his head. Sirius had the maturity of a six-year-old sometimes. Not that I'm much better, James thought ruefully, but I don't flaunt it as much.
James looked about then, thinking. He could use Nick to test the potential keepers, or James could do that himself and delegate Nick to working with the 5 prospective chasers. Chasers, James thought decisively. Making the keepers block his shots would be overly cruel. For today, anyhow.
James issued the orders with a confidence born from years of leadership. He'd never been the type to sit and watch other people take command.
"—ten minutes ago. You're late." James could hear Sirius's voice ringing out from the opposite side of the pitch. James told the 3 keepers to get ready and stay put, then hustled to see what had gotten Sirius so riled up.
"Well, I'll be even later if you won't let me past, Black." Goodness. That snarling tone could only belong to Alanna Simmons, Lily's dark-haired friend. James hid a grin. She always managed to sound extra vicious when speaking with Sirius. That might have something to do with the fact that Sirius had turned her hair a different color every day for a month in second year.
"Simmons," James interceded, before Sirius could say something he'd regret later. "Is there a reason you're here?"
She blushed, but turned her brown eyes up to meet James's face. "Funny thing, I was under the impression that there were Quidditch tryouts today."
"There are," James said without thinking, wondering what Alanna was getting at.
But Sirius's eyebrows suddenly shot up so high that they were in imminent danger of disappearing into his hair. "You're going to try out for Quidditch? I thought you liked to read and study and—" he broke off with a shudder.
"Just because I can read, Black, doesn't mean I can't do anything else." Unlike you. She didn't say it, but she didn't have to. Sirius and James knew what she was thinking.
"What—" James decided to avert disaster and just go along with whatever was happening. It wasn't his usual approach to life, but this was Quidditch, after all. He was responsible where Quidditch was concerned. "—what position are you trying out for?"
Sirius gave him a look as if to say 'you're letting her do this? Are you nuts?' but James ignored him studiously.
"Keeper," Alanna said simply, throwing a triumphant look over her shoulder at Sirius as she headed in the direction James was pointing.
"Sirius," James said, stopping his friend from following after Alanna.
"Look, Prongs, she's Evans's best friend. She's probably here to spy on us or something."
James shook his head. "Padfoot, even if that were true, this is Quidditch tryouts. So what if she's here? And it's quite likely that she actually wants to be on the team, you know."
Sirius shook his head, tight-lipped. "Look, James, she gets under my skin." He shuddered.
James raised his eyebrows.
"It's right maddening, having her about. It's so—she's just—" Sirius gave up trying to find the words to describe the dark-haired girl. "Look, I have to go test those beaters before they kill themselves with the clubs."
James nodded. "Sure, go ahead." He watched Sirius walk off, and noted the antagonistic look his friend lobbed off toward the keepers. James sighed, but now wasn't the time to figure these things out. He turned and jogged back to the keepers.
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It was almost four hours later that James finally signaled to Sirius and Nick to bring the groups down. There were only five left, of the ten—eleven, including Alanna—who had begun auditioning earlier.
James pulled his two teammates aside, making sure that no one followed them. "Okay, we've got to make a decision, and we've got to make it now. We've not got much time 'til our first match, and we've a long way to go with this team." He glanced from Sirius, who looked worn out, to Nick, who looked as if he'd like nothing more than to peg each and every potential chaser with the quaffle. "Nick? What do you think?"
"The short one, with the brown hair. Ricky Anderson, he's a second-year."
James and Sirius shared a look. "A second year?" Sirius queried.
"Sure," Nick replied, managing to look supremely bored by the whole process. Now, though, he looked as though he'd like to peg Sirius. But then again, who didn't? "Second-years last longer than seventh-years. You don't have to replace them every year," he said dryly. "Plus, Anderson is a right brilliant chaser. Better than the others who showed up, anyhow."
James nodded slowly. "And he's reliable?"
"From what I could tell. I'd take him on, Potter, he's got some potential."
James frowned slightly, thinking. "We need more than potential, if we're going to beat Slytherin this year. They've got a lineup that's to die for."
"He can do it," Nick said confidently.
"Good." James grinned. "So we've got our chaser. "Sirius? How're the beaters?"
"Most of them could do with a knock on the head or two. They're a bit thick."
James smirked. "All the beaters I've met are thick; I doubt they'd feel it."
"Hey! That's not very nice," Sirius pouted. "I take personal offense to that statement." He saw James give him a look, and subsided. "Well, there's one who'll have to do. His name is Geoffrey Lewis. He's—he'll have to do."
"Well, is he any good?" James wanted to know.
"Sure. He's fine." James motioned Sirius to continue. "He's got great aim, and I'm sure he can hit harder than he did today."
"Great, so Anderson and Lewis." James paused. "But as for the keepers, I'm afraid I haven't a clue. There are two. Alanna Simmons—" Here, James shot a sympathetic look at Sirius, then continued, "And Michael Tudor."
"What a choice," Sirius muttered under his breath. Michael Tudor was rich, and fairly stuck up (whether he was more arrogant than Sirius was a moot point). Alanna Simmons, on the other hand 'got under Sirius's skin.' Neither of the candidates were ones he would choose.
James shrugged. "I wouldn't have chosen them either, Sirius, but I have to look out for the team, and they're good."
"But you're not sure who's better." Sirius phrased it as a statement, not a question.
"Yeah," James said. "But we've got to figure it out now. I was thinking—well, Nick, what would you say to taking a few penalty shots?"
James could see, by the smile lighting up Nick's face, that he'd been right. Nick Myers had been dying to peg someone.
James sent off those who had not made the team, and those who had as well. Only he, Sirius, Nick, Michael Tudor, and Alanna Simmons remained. "Alright," James began, "I've seen both of you, and you're very good. Good enough, in fact that you've tied. Myers," he gestured at Nick, "and I will take ten shots each, five at each of you. Whoever blocks the most is on the team."
Alanna and Michael nodded, and turned to retrieve their brooms, but James cut them off. "And these'll be real shots, not the testing ones I was tossing out earlier." James had to grin at the startled expressions. Honestly, James was captain, surely they hadn't thought that the weak shots he'd been throwing earlier (to test the keepers' skill) were his best.
James motioned both keepers into the air, and turned to speak with Nick. "What do you reckon? Start with Tudor, and do all 10 shots, then do Simmons?"
Nick shook his head. "Come on, Potter, make it dramatic; one shot on Tudor, then one on Simmons."
James thought, then shook his own head. "It's getting dark, Myers, and I want to go eat dinner. Anyway, it's not a story, what's the need to be dramatic?"
Nick laughed, "I confess, I never thought I'd hear that out of your mouth."
"I'm not always dramatic," James shot back, but that only made Nick laugh harder.
Sirius added his two cents, "Come on, Myers, you know James values food over everything, drama included."
James found himself sighing melodramatically. "Above everything but Evans. Lily Evans is at the top of every list."
Sirius snorted, but James was already in the air, ready to take his shots.
"Tudor! You're first," James shouted, watching the larger figure move to circle the goal posts. James took the quaffle from the crook of his arm and searched for a hole in Michael Tudor's defense.
There it was, and whoosh, the quaffle was out of James's hand, and zooming toward the right-hand hoop. Michael attempted to dive to the side, but his broom didn't change direction quickly enough. The red ball slipped easily past Michael's fingers, and into the goal.
James shook his head, ignoring the "DAMN!" that was echoing around the pitch. He couldn't help but smile. He had warned them that he was actually going to try to score this time around.
Nick's shot was next. He didn't even bother to aim, just wound back his arm and threw. James winced. The quaffle was heading for the middle hoop, fairly close to Michael, so he'd be able to get there if he hustled. The question was if he could stop the quaffle getting through once he did get there; after all, Nick Myers threw hard.
Nick managed to get behind the quaffle, which made a sickening thump as it crashed into his chest. This sound was followed quickly by oomph of dispelled breath, knocked straight out of Michael Tudor's body.
James didn't let him nurse his injury, though. Sirius gave him the quaffle, and James immediately launched it again, this time to the left. Michael caught this too, albeit barely. But no sooner had he thrown it back to Nick than it was again hurtling toward the middle goal.
James watched in amusement as Michael tried to avoid further injury to his chest, and attempted to reach out to the side and grab the quaffle. He obviously hadn't realized that a quaffle going that fast could hurt his arm far worse than it could hurt his chest. Luckily, though, he missed, and the quaffle soared through the hoop.
It went on like that, and Michael did a fairly good job. By the end of the ten shots, he had only let in two of James's and two of Nick's.
"Simmons!" James called. "You're up!"
The small, dark-haired figure took her place in front the hoops, and began circling around them, ready for the first shot.
James offered Nick the quaffle, grinning. "You first."
Nick threw the red ball at the left-hand hoop, and James could hear the force of it as it whistled through the air.
"James," Sirius had said earlier, "Do you think she could stop it if she threw herself bodily in front of it? I mean, she's awfully skinny."
Then, James had smirked, and told Sirius to keep his mouth shut and go get the quaffle. But now, James had to wonder if Alanna could stop it. Sirius was right; she was thin as a twig.
But that particular bit of speculation couldn't be resolved quite yet. She missed the quaffle, and it swung easily into the goal. Alanna didn't react, she just set herself back up for the next shot, but James didn't have to look around to see the smirk he knew was on Sirius's face.
James shook his head, wondering what it was that could make Sirius hate Alanna so much. She was, well, she was a nice person, and she'd never gone out of her way to upset Sirius, not like he did with her. What was it that made Sirius, usually such an entertaining person, so patronizing to her?
It didn't matter, though, not right now. James took the quaffle aimed, and shot it toward the left hoop. It arced, curved, and went into the now-undefended middle hoop. James grinned, and Nick congratulated him on the shot.
Nick's next shot was blocked, but James knew Alanna would have a bruise from that particular save. She didn't have a nice protective layer of fat.
James shot again, and she anticipated the curve this time, snatching the quaffle out of the air just before it passed through the hoop.
"She's not bad," Nick murmured, and James had to agree as the shots progressed. One extremely well-placed shot went in, but other than that, she blocked or caught the rest. Finally, it was time for James's final shot.
Michael Tudor was down on the ground, leaning against the shed where the balls were kept when not in use. He, like the others, knew that this shot would be the difference between him making the team or not.
"So James, you're getting your drama after all," Nick observed. "It's down to the last shot."
James grinned. "That's true. Well, I might as well make it a good shot, then, eh?"
Sirius looked thoughtful. "Make it a good one, James. If Simmons makes the team, I don't want it to be off of a weak shot." Hmm, was he actually admitting that there was a good chance she'd make it?
James just nodded, positioning the quaffle carefully in his hands. He'd been wanting to try out a new throw anyhow. Well, here goes nothing. James lobbed the quaffle up into the air, and watched it come back towards him. When it was level with his head, he drew back his arm, then allowed it to shoot forward, punching the quaffle solidly towards the outer rim of the right-hand post.
Alanna hung in place for a moment, her eyes the only part of her moving. They followed the quaffle, watching it, waiting to see where it would land. Then, she maneuvered her broom, aiming it expertly toward where the quaffle would shortly be. Then, with a burst of speed, she was there. She stretched out her fingers, putting every fiber of her body to work, trying to elongate her arms, trying to reach the quaffle that was just barely out of reach.
She's not going to make it, James thought as time seemed to slow down. She's just not long enough.
But Alanna proved him wrong. She gave one last push, letting go of her broom, and reaching that one iota farther. The tips of her fingers brushed the quaffle, deflecting it, sending just outside the hoop.
Alas, though, that last stretch lost her balance, and though Alanna reached for her broom, she missed, and both she and the broom fell.
Alanna landed in a bush. James couldn't begin to imagine why there was a bush on the pitch, but at the moment, he didn't particularly care. He dove, quickly reaching the spot Alanna had fallen.
Out of breath, and hoping fervently that there was nothing wrong that could not be fixed, James peered warily into the bush. He saw her, Alanna, wincing, but looking very much alive and alright.
"Are you okay?" James asked worriedly.
"Yeah," she gasped. "But I think I've melded together with the bush."
James sighed with relief. "Here," he offered her a hand, and she took it, letting him pull her up. She was scratched, and it looked as though she might have broken a rib or two, but things could have been worse, much worse.
"So, congratulations, you're on the team," Nick said.
James grinned at her. "Yeah, congrats."
Alanna just grimaced. "Thanks, judging by this experience, it ought to be loads of fun."
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Author's Note:
Well, again, I'm soooo sorry for the delay, but I promise, from now on into the foreseeable future, it's back to an update a week (unless I forewarn you specifically).
Okay, as usual, I'll have to remind you to (please!) read my other work, which is "Oddments and Essays" and a new one-shot called "A Symphony of Language a Cacophony of Diatribe." Don't forget that PinkytheSnowmanand I co-write on the pen name of SiriuslyInsane62442 where we've got "The Trouble with Evil Monkeys" and "Stalker! Letters from a Bighead" currently in progress.
Also, check out PinkytheSnowman's other work, Lia Tween's "Surfacing Memoirs," which I role-play in quite a bit, and Jedicren's "The Past Haunts You," which I beta for. They are all well worth reading.
Finally, to my reviewers, who hopefully haven't all abandoned me…all sorts of wonderful gifts for all of you.
Jedicren: I know, I've been trying to move things along a bit faster. You'll see what I mean next chapter…
LoonyMoony90: I love the name. Thanks so much, I'm so glad you're enjoying this as much as me!
And as for "seeing the love"….hehehe. That's all I'll say for now.
Oh, and thank you, I do try to stay as true to canon as possible…JKR is the boss, after all
StarfireMidnightGlory: Doesn't everyone like stickers? I do…
James wearing fruit? Well, I'll have to say that didn't occur to me…
And sniff thanks for sooo many compliments.
Hmm, James on the red carpet? He's a natural, as I'm sure you've realized.
Ha, yes, let's set Hermione on James for having house elves….
Yes, well I really want to see what JKR does with the character of Petunia…could be interesting, no?
Hee, and yes, I know Pinky's work is good, that's why I collaborate with her…
KcluvsMl: I have to say, judging by your review, you are my type of person. Hee, yes, a weird one. But weird people are so much more interesting! Hmm, and French isn't all that bad.
There are more reviews, but I'll get back to those under chapter 13, which, by the by, is already written. So I'll see y'all soon! (if you reviewed but you're not on here, don't worry, I'll reply to you for chapter 13!)
manchot du destin