Saturday, March 4, 1978
"It's going to be fine," Lily said as her fingers worked at the knots in James's back. Blinding morning sunlight filtered through the window, and James squinted against the glare as he let out a sigh of pleasure.
"I know it's going to be fine. This isn't my first match, Evans." He leaned back, allowing easier access to his shoulders.
"Don't give me that. I know you're nervous. There's a lot riding on this match, and there's been so much other stuff going on. Of course you're a bit anxious about how it's going to go." Her hands drifted lower, teasing out a bit of tension between his shoulder blades. "But I know it's going to be great, because it's you."
He smiled even as she dug into a sore spot. "Thanks, Evs."
He was nervous. The team hadn't been properly focused this week. If he was being honest with himself, the team hadn't been properly focused in months. He was guilty of this just as much as everyone else — there had been days when he didn't have as much energy for Quidditch because he was exhausted from dueling practice or patrolling or finishing homework. On top of it all, there was an underlying current of doubt that they were wasting their time on defensive strategy and scoring drills, because none of that mattered when people were being murdered in their homes outside of the sheltered safety of Hogwarts.
No, I can't think that way. He had to believe that playing Quidditch was keeping his teammates sane, that spending hours training left them too tired to worry about the latest ominous headline. They played for the rest of Gryffindor, and the rest of the school, too. Watching Quidditch provided a welcome distraction to hundreds of anxious students. That rush of pride and happiness that washed over the crowd after a win would drive away the fear and dejection and buoy everyone up in this dark time.
James had to keep telling himself this, because if he didn't believe it, then he wasn't sure why the match mattered.
At breakfast he scanned the Gryffindor table, seeking out each of his teammates and ensuring they each ate a decent meal. Sunshine was pale and drawn, but he nodded with satisfaction as she ate a full plate of eggs, toast, and sausages. That will help. Right?
Lily's kiss lingered on his lips and her murmured Good luck echoed in his head as he stood in front of his team in the locker room. His Quidditch uniform held the crisp snap of freshly laundered robes, and his lucky whistle hung around his neck, a comforting weight against his chest. Everything was as it should be for a match. Yet as he looked at his team, something seemed off. The usual spark of excitement and anticipation was less sharp, less tangible. He took a deep breath, preparing to give a pre-match pep talk as he always did, but Sunshine approached him before he could speak.
"I can't do this," she said, twisting her hands together and staring down at the floor. "My head's a mess. I'm going to be rubbish."
A stab of dread twisted James's stomach, but he ignored it and clapped Sunshine on the back. "You can do this, Sunshine. You've been fine in practice." In truth she hadn't been fine in practice, but he didn't see how mentioning that would be at all helpful. "Just tune everything else out and focus on stopping the Quaffle."
"I'm serious. I can't play." Her eyes were wide and urgent as she put a hand on his shoulder.
"So what are you suggesting? We don't have a reserve Keeper. You've got to play."
Sunshine gestured at Kath. "Kath can do it. She's a decent Keeper, and she's been dying to play."
James shook his head. "Kath hasn't been training to be a Keeper. I'm not just throwing her in when she's only done it a few times for scrimmages."
"But–" she began.
"You'll be fine," he said, cutting her off. "You're a good Keeper, Sunshine, and I know you won't feel right about watching from the stands. Now, does anyone else want to try to get out of playing, or can we go out there and beat Hufflepuff?"
Several people exchanged wary glances, but nobody spoke. The sick feeling of dread intensified, but James grasped his Quidditch whistle and took a deep, steadying breath.
"Right. Let's go do what we do best, then," he said, and stepped forward to lead the way out onto the pitch.
Five minute into the match, James realized he had made a mistake. The first time Hufflepuff scored, Sunshine didn't even attempt to block the shot because she was gazing off into the opposite direction. The second goal sailed right through her fingers. By the third time, the Hufflepuffs sensed weakness and began to capitalize on it. James blew the whistle for time out, and his stomach sank when he saw the faces of his dejected teammates.
"Sunshine, you've got to at least try!" he snapped, fighting to keep his voice calm. "Every shot they take is getting past you."
"I told you I wasn't fit to play!" she retorted, eyes bright with unshed tears. "I told you, and you didn't listen to me."
"What if we sub in Kath now?" Bubbles suggested.
"No, they won't let us make a swap now that the match has started," James said. He rubbed his temples; a headache had begun to form behind his eyes. "It's fine, we'll just make do." He turned to the two Beaters and crossed his arms. "Can one of you hang back and help Sunshine guard the goal posts?" he asked.
Will Davies gaped at James, horrified. "That's not what we've been practicing. And we can't leave everyone else unprotected."
Bubbles grimaced. "Yeah, I'd prefer not to have to stave off Bludgers on my own, if it's all the same to you."
"I can do it," Seven offered.
James raked a hand through his hair and frowned. "No, you can't. You have to keep looking for the Snitch."
"I can do both," Seven insisted. "Let me try."
"No," James said flatly. He heaved an irritated sigh, willing himself not to shout at the whole bloody lot of them. "I'll just do it myself."
"What?" Bubbles stared at him in disbelief. "You can't do that! All of our plays are based on three Chasers."
"I'll figure it out," James said, making a dismissive hand gesture. "I'll do both somehow."
"How?" Farley asked, shifting from foot to foot and biting her lip.
"I said I'll figure it out. Rule number – well, whichever one's about not arguing with the bloody captain." He scanned the stands, searching for Lily's distinctive red hair. Somehow he was convinced that this would all work out if he could just catch a glimpse of her. They were too far away, however, and all he could see was a faceless sea of red and gold.
"I'm going to say something, but you're not going to like it," Seven said, fiddling with the end of her braid.
"Well, say it if you're going to say it," James snapped. "We can't stay in a timeout forever."
"You're not being a team player," she said, crossing her arms and meeting his gaze. There was a steely, defiant glint in her eye that made James nervous. "This isn't going to work."
"What do you mean, I'm not being a bloody team player? I'm doing this for the team. It's you lot that aren't willing to make sacrifices." He gestured at his teammates, none of whom seemed inclined to look him in the eye. "I know it's not ideal, but it's the best plan we have."
"I've suggested a different plan, but you're too busy trying to do everything yourself to listen to me," Seven retorted.
"Well, I'm the fucking captain, Seven, so ultimately I make the decisions. You stay looking for the Snitch, and I'll help Sunshine, alright?"
Seven glared at him for a moment, her face flushed with indignation, but then she sighed and nodded. "Yeah, alright." She mounted her broom and kicked off into the air without another word.
A tense silence hung between the rest of the team in the wake of Seven's departure. James looked around at them all, rage coursing through his body, before gesturing to Madam Hooch and taking off into the air. A whistle blast signaled that the game had resumed, the wind picked up and buffeted James's broom, and the Hufflepuff team continued their onslaught. As the Quaffle sailed through the right goal post to score Hufflepuff yet another goal, James had a sinking feeling that he had made yet another big mistake.
"I'm so sorry." Sunshine sank to the floor of the locker room with her head in her hands. All the fight had gone out of her – she didn't even have the energy to cry.
"It's alright," James said, his voice tight and clipped. "We're not out of the running for the Quidditch Cup yet. It all depends on the points…"
"I've really made a mess of things," Sunshine said. "You should chuck me off the team. I don't deserve to play anymore."
"And then what am I going to do?" James demanded, his anger flaring despite his best efforts. "I don't have a fucking reserve Keeper, Sunshine. You think it's going to help the team if I have to find and train someone before May?"
Sunshine shook her head helplessly, then slid down onto her back and pressed her hands against her face.
"It's not your fault, Sunshine," Seven said, sitting down beside her and giving her shoulder a reassuring pat. "You tried to tell him you weren't up to playing. It would be hard for anyone to play after what you've just gone through."
"Come on," Bubbles said. "Let's go get so drunk you'll forget there was even a match today."
The team filed out of the locker room, dejected and weary, until only James and Seven remained.
"You should have listened to her, James," she said, her voice quiet and calm, yet full of an accusation that cut James to the core.
"So it's my fault we lost?" James ran a hand through his sweaty hair, glowering at Seven. "Just come out and say it, Seven, don't be shy."
"Fine," she said, crossing her arms. "I do think it's your fault we lost. What you pulled with that whole 'I'll do it myself,' business, that reminded me of how you were during your first couple of years playing."
"What, back during second and third year?"
"Yeah. I've always liked watching you play," she said, her voice calm despite the anger flashing in her eyes. "You've always been talented. But you really made the transition to being a great player when you started actually passing to your teammates instead of trying to score every goal yourself."
"I never–"
"Yes you did," she insisted. "I'm sorry to say it, but you were a bit of a ball hog. And that's what I was reminded of today."
"Why would you be reminded of that today?" James asked, waving his hands in the air. "I was the opposite of a ball hog today. I spent the whole game trying to stop Hufflepuff from scoring."
"But that wasn't what the team needed," Seven said, sighing. "We needed you Chasing. We could've spared me for a bit, but you were convinced you were the only one talented enough to play two positions. I tried to tell you–"
"Well, sorry to tell you, Seven, but I didn't fucking ask for your opinion." James wanted to storm out of the locker room and march straight to his dormitory to climb into bed and sleep until the sting of the loss wasn't so sharp, but something glued him where he stood.
"So you value my opinion when I agree with you, but if I call you out when you're being an arsehole, suddenly you don't want to hear what I think?" Seven shook her head in disbelief. "You know what, you're an excellent Quidditch player and you're usually an excellent captain, but I lost some respect for you today, because a good captain should be able to admit when they're wrong."
Her words were a slap in the face, because in spite of everything he had said in anger, he deeply valued her opinion. He looked at her, an apology forming on his lips, but instead he swallowed it back and fixed her with a disdainful glare.
"Well, if you have any hope of being a decent captain next year, then you should be able to admit that you're wrong right now." He shook his head in disgust, then grabbed his bag and strode out of the locker room. As the door swung shut behind him, he thought he heard Seven's voice utter a muffled "Fuck off."
He hurried past a group of gleeful Hufflepuff stragglers and headed for the castle. A minute later, Lily caught up to him, her eyes full of concern and sympathy and other emotions that filled James with an irrational surge of anger.
"I don't want to talk about it," he said before she had time to speak.
"Alright, you don't have to," she said, taking his hand.
They walked in silence for a minute, and then James dropped her hand and turned to her, his anger flaring again.
"Sunshine wasn't fit to play. She told me, but what was I supposed to do? We don't have anyone else. So then it was a bloody disaster, and I tried to fix it, but it didn't fucking work, and Seven…" He ran a hand through his hair and tried to banish the image of Seven's defiant expression from his head. "Seven basically told me it's my fault we lost."
"She didn't!" The righteous indignation in Lily's voice would have made James smile under different circumstances.
"Oh, she sure fucking did." He glanced sideways at her, his expression pained. "She may not be entirely wrong."
Lily looked at him in surprise. "Was it your fault?"
He hesitated as shame replaced his flare of anger. "I made all the wrong calls. But still, she shouldn't have argued with me in front of the whole bloody team! I'm the captain, I make the calls, and she's supposed to go along with them, even if she disagrees."
Lily pursed her lips. "Hmm." James marveled that so much disapproval could be contained in that one syllable.
"What?"
She glanced at him and frowned. "Well, I just think if you know it was your fault, then you should own up to it. That would be the mature thing to do."
"Are you saying I'm immature?"
"That's not what I said," Lily said in that overly patient tone that infuriated him.
"It's fine," James said, drawing to a stop just outside the Entrance Hall. "Go ahead and tell me I'm a shit captain. Seven already did."
"I never said you were a shit captain!"
"But that's what you meant." He heard his voice rising, but couldn't be bothered to lower it.
"Well, now you're putting words in my mouth." She crossed her arms and faced him, her green eyes flashing. "If you're going to act like a bloody child–"
"So you do think I'm immature!" He pointed an accusatory finger in her face.
"At this particular moment, yes, I do." She batted his hand away. "And get your hand out of my face."
"Well, if that's how you feel, then sod you." He saw her lips twitch as though she wanted to laugh, and that just made him angrier. "I thought you might be a bit more supportive after a tough match, but I guess that's too much to ask."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic." She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "I didn't realize I was dating Sirius Black!"
"Are you having a go at Sirius now?"
"No, I–"
"Or are you saying you'd rather be dating him?"
James had lost control of the conversation. Words were spewing out of his mouth without rhyme or reason or coherent thought, but he was powerless to stop it.
"Do you hear yourself right now?" Lily stared at him, incredulous. "You sound ridiculous."
"Well you sound like a fucking bitch, to be honest."
Her face reddened as her eyes widened in outrage, and then she shook her head and stomped up the stairs into the Entrance Hall.
"So you're just walking away now?" James demanded, jogging to catch up.
"Yes, because this is quite possibly the most stupid conversation I've ever had, and that's saying something, considering all the stupid conversations you and Padfoot have dragged me into." She didn't slow her pace, navigating around students who looked at her in surprise as she marched past. "And I'm not going to stand there while you call me names."
"Hang on, Evans!" James called. He was beginning to feel desperate and already regretted his wild accusations. "Just wait!"
"No," she said, glowering at him over her shoulder. "Don't talk to me for the rest of the walk up to the common room, or I'm going to hex you."
There was a dangerous glint in her eyes and a stubborn set to her jaw that James recognized, so he strode beside her in silence, scowling at the back of her head. As his hot fury faded and his breathing returned to normal, he felt increasingly foolish. By the time he climbed through the portrait hole after her, he wanted nothing more than to apologize while Lily wrapped him in a hug.
"Evs," he said, reaching for her hand and pulling her to a stop. "I'm sorry."
"Save it," she said, wrenching out of his grip. "I'm still not ready to talk to you."
"Prongs," Sirius called from his chair by the fire, "Kath just came up to me asking to buy some firewhisky. She said you'd given permission, but I said no because it sounded like a load of rubbish. Let me know if I was wrong, though, because we could spare a bit." He broke off when he saw their faces, Lily's furrowed in anger and James's desperate and pleading. "What's going on?"
"What's going on is your best mate's being a shit," Lily said, crossing her arms and glaring at James. "Oh, and apparently I want to date you."
"That's no good," Sirius said, a perplexed frown forming on his face as he looked from Lily to James. "We'd be a bloody awful couple. I doubt we could get through a day without killing each other. Besides, I think I'd be too much for you in bed."
Remus snorted with laughter, then clapped his hand over his mouth. "Fuck, I'm sorry."
"Padfoot!" James rounded on Sirius, eyes wide with indignation.
Sirius held up his hands in a helpless gesture. "Just being realistic, mate."
Lily looked between them and heaved an indignant sigh.
"I'm sorry, alright!" James tried to take Lily's hand again, but she stepped backward and almost stumbled over Peter's chair, eliciting a startled cry from Peter. "I didn't mean any of it. Let's just go upstairs, and you can rub my back and –"
"You call me a fucking bitch, and then less than five minutes later want me to rub your back?" She shook her head in disgust. "Rub your own bloody back."
"That's physically impossible, Evans," James said, aware that he was being petulant but unable to shut himself up. "I can't reach the middle."
"Then have Padfoot do it, for all I care. Talk to me when you've stopped acting so bloody childish."
Her words rang in the air as she turned and hurried up the stairs. There was a faint slam as she reached her dormitory and shut the door behind her. James watched the stairs in shocked silence, half-expecting her to come back downstairs, hanging her head and looking sheepish as she mumbled an apology. When she didn't return, he sighed and collapsed down into his armchair.
"I hate everything," he groaned, resting his head in his hands.
"That's a bit dramatic," Sirius said, leaning his head back against Mary's legs.
Mary laughed and raised her eyebrows. "That's a bit rich, coming from you, isn't it?"
"Rude." Sirius reached back and gave Mary's leg a pinch; she squealed and slapped his hand away. "Oh, by the way, Prongs, I'm not rubbing your back. You make those little sounds when Evans does it, and it would be too weird, even for me."
James was trying to summon the energy to reply to Sirius when he spotted Kath standing beside his chair. She still wore her reserve Seeker uniform, and under better circumstances James would find this adorable. Today, however, he just wished she had changed so he wouldn't be reminded of the game.
"You shouldn't have shouted at Seven," she announced in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I didn't ask for your opinion, Kath." He leaned his head back against the chair. He was suddenly exhausted, struggling to keep his eyes open.
"I know," she said, nodding. "You don't seem to be looking for anyone's opinion besides your own these days. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that you were out of line and you should have listened to Sunshine, and to Seven, and to me, for that matter, if you'd bothered to ask my opinion."
"Kath," he said through gritted teeth, "you're not even officially on the team. Where do you get off telling me how to run my team?"
She shrugged. "I just figured someone ought to tell you." She turned to Sirius and clasped her hands in front of her. "So, er, where do we stand on the firewhisky issue?"
"No, Kath," James said, pointing across the room at the sofa where her friends sat watching them. "Get out of here and quit bothering us. And you'd better rethink your attitude if you want to be on the team next year."
"Oh, now you're just being petty," she said, rolling her eyes. "And it's not up to you, by the way. It's up to Seven, and I know for a fact she thinks I have real potential."
"Fuck off, Kath," James said, losing his patience.
"Prongs," Remus said as she stalked off to rejoin her friends. "She's just a kid."
"I don't care," James said, slumping down in his chair. "I'm tired of everyone telling me off."
Remus hesitated, picking at a bit of ragged cuticle. "Did you…" He bit his lip and glanced down at the floor. "Did you shout at Seven?"
"I guess."
"Why?"
"She made me angry," James was aiming for nonchalance, but he sounded defensive even to his own ears. "It's not her place to argue with my decisions."
"Well," Remus said, his eyes now fixed on his hands. "That's true, but I don't think you needed to shout at her. I'm sure she was just trying to help."
"If I wanted her help, I would've asked for it." Seven's accusation rang in his head, and he ran a hand through his hair, trying to forget the disappointment on her face when she'd said she had lost respect for him.
"You owe her an apology," Remus said, finally looking James in the eye.
"Seems like she's the one who should be apologizing," James said, glaring back at Remus. "She's the one who argued with her Quidditch captain in the middle of the match."
"But if she was only trying to do what's best for the team," Remus insisted.
James sighed and heaved himself to his feet. "Look. It's been a shitty day, and she didn't make it any better, and I told her what I thought about it. If you want to take her side over me because she's your girlfriend, that's fine, but save the lecture, alright? I'm not in the mood."
He crossed the room and climbed the stairs to the dormitory, then retrieved a Snitch from his trunk and lay down on his bed. As he released and caught the Snitch, he kept his ears pricked for the sound of footsteps or the door opening, hoping Lily would wander up to apologize so he wouldn't have to swallow his pride and say it first.
The atmosphere in the common room was tense and sullen as the Gryffindors threw down Exploding Snap cards harder than necessary and spoke in irritated mutters, attempting to forget the humiliating Quidditch loss. Remus was deciding whether to apologize to James or go search for Seven when Lily slouched back into the common room and took James's vacant seat.
"Back so soon?" Remus asked, raising his eyebrows and offering her his extra blanket.
She waved away the blanket and sighed. "I got bored."
"Meaning you had nobody to complain to," Sirius said, glancing up at her from his spot on the floor. "By the way, Evans, what part of 'Wait for Prongs and cheer him up' did you interpret to mean start a row with him?"
"He started it!" Lily shot back, a defensive note in her voice. "I tried to be supportive, but he was being an arse!"
"Yeah, well, I'd be surprised if he wasn't." Sirius got to his feet and leaned against the back of Mary's chair. "He doesn't handle losing well, Evans. That's why we sent you. You were meant to comfort him, distract him, maybe rub his shoulders a bit or, I dunno, rub something else…"
"Sod you." She got to her feet and went to stand with her back to the fire. "Why didn't anyone bother telling me he doesn't handle losing well? I mean, obviously nobody's chuffed to lose, but that's no reason for him to lose his head and say all sorts of ridiculous things. Do you know he actually asked me if I wanted to date you?"
Remus glanced at Peter and looked away quickly, suppressing the urge to laugh again.
"Dunno why that's a ridiculous thing to say," Sirius said, frowning. "I'm lovely. Aren't I, Macdonald?"
She rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist when he tried to tug on her curls. "You're something, Black. Not sure 'lovely' is the word I'd use."
"You're right. Handsome, sexy, irresistible, and clever are all much better choices." He sat down on the arm of Mary's chair and draped his leg over her lap despite her sigh of protest. "Anyway, Evans, none of us said anything because we assumed you knew. Don't you remember that match we lost to Ravenclaw during our fourth year?"
"He sat up in the dormitory for ages, refusing to take off the Invisibility Cloak," Peter said, eyes wide.
"I'd forgotten that part," Remus said, laughing so hard his book fell off his lap.
"It wasn't funny," Peter insisted.
"It's been years, Pete," Remus said, bending to retrieve his book. "I think it's safe to laugh about it now."
"You really don't remember, Evans?" Sirius said, astonished. "You told him off for moping around and said something like, 'Don't be ridiculous, Potter, it's just a stupid game.' Which, if you haven't guessed, was not a particularly helpful thing to say, because to James Potter, Quidditch is not just a stupid game. For him it's right up there with breathing, eating, and shagging."
"Well, I still don't think losing a match gives him an excuse to be a prat," she said, turning around to warm her hands by the fire.
"It's not just because Gryffindor lost," Peter said, tearing open a chocolate frog wrapper. "It's because it was sort of his fault that they lost." He said this last bit with an apologetic note in his voice, and his eyes darted to the stairs as though expecting James to come tell him off.
"It was absolutely his fault that they lost," Sirius said. "And don't look at me like that, Wormtail. I'd say the same thing right to his face. What the fuck was he thinking? You can't play Keeper and Chaser at the same time, no matter how talented you are, the bloody idiot." He leaned his head against Mary's shoulder and added, "And now, because you didn't comfort him properly, Evans, I've got to go do it, and it's not going to be nearly as easy as it would be for you because I don't have the same, you know, assets? Skill set?" Sirius made a vague hand gesture, and again Remus resisted the urge to laugh, because the murderous look on Lily's face made him nervous.
"What assets, Sirius?" Lily snapped. "What skill set?"
"You know," Sirius said, making a sweeping motion that encompassed the length of her body.
"Ugh." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Shagging doesn't solve everything, you know."
He frowned. "Are you sure? You might just be doing it wrong."
"You're just as bad as James!"
"Impossible," Sirius said, placing Mary's hand on his head and smiling when she ran her fingers through his hair. "Look at this hair, Evans. It makes up for at least 50% of my sassy comments."
Lily threw her hands up in defeat and stalked out of the common room. As she stepped through the portrait hole, they heard her shout, "Sod you and your stupid bloody hair!"
The four of them looked at each other after she left, and then they all burst into laughter.
Mary rose from her chair after pushing Sirius's legs from her lap. "I'll go after her. Ugh, what a pain in the arse. This is why I hate Quidditch."
"Come on," Remus said after Mary left. He draped his blanket over the back of the chair and got to his feet. "Let's go talk to Mr. Sore Loser, and then we can use the map to figure out where the girls went. And I suppose we should try to think of something silly to do that will cheer James up."
"I think I have an idea," Peter said, grinning.
The air carried a faint smell of Dungbombs as Remus stepped out onto the Astronomy Tower. The wind seeped through his clothes as he came to stand beside Lily. He watched with interest as she took aim and tossed a Dungbomb to splatter on the snow below. When it burst with a satisfying squelch, Lily let out a cheer and punched her fist into the air.
"Have you come to join the 'James Potter is an arsehole club?'" she asked, watching as Seven threw two Dungbombs at once.
"Do I have to join the club to stay out here?" Remus slipped an arm around Seven's waist.
"No, I haven't joined," Mary said, selecting a Dungbomb from the pile and hurling it to burst beside Lily's. "James did nothing to offend me. I'm just here for the Dungbombs."
"Are these from our stash?" Remus asked.
Seven smiled and leaned her head against Remus's shoulder. "No, I got these from Kath."
"She's helpful, Kath." Remus glanced at the door and looked back at the three girls, an uncertain smile on his face. "So, how attached are you to the James Potter is an arsehole club? Could you be convinced to quit, if the offer was right?"
"What do you mean?" Lily asked, frowning, but her expression changed to a scowl when James stepped through the door, followed by Sirius and Peter. "What are you doing here?"
"I've come to apologize for being a complete arse," James said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I can't believe I was such an idiot that you lot have named a club after me."
"We don't have buttons or uniforms or anything yet," Lily said. "So I guess I could be convinced to leave the club, if you're apologetic enough."
"Well, I'm pretty damn sorry, if that helps." James crossed the Astronomy Tower to stand beside Seven. "That goes for you, too. You've been great, telling Moony his jumpers are sexy and pretending Pete's snoring doesn't keep you up all night, not to mention all the hard work you've been putting in at practice, and I just shouted at you like none of that mattered."
"It's alright." Seven hesitated a moment, looking at James, then wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry we lost. I know it wasn't an easy match, and I didn't make it easier for you. I just…"
James shook his head. "It's not your fault. It's mine. Where the fuck did I get the idea that I could Keep and Chase at the same time?" He returned to stand beside Lily, taking her hand. "Can you forgive me? I didn't mean to suggest you wanted to date Padfoot."
Lily laughed and gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm really glad you said that, because I was a bit afraid for your sanity, to be honest."
Sirius burst out from the Astronomy Tower door, wearing an indignant scowl. "What do you mean, you were afraid for his sanity? Why would that make you question his sanity?"
"Ignore him," Peter said, following Sirius out into the brisk night air. "Do you want to hear what we're doing later tonight? Seven, I think you're going to like this idea."
A few hours later, once the dinner crowd had cleared out and students had returned to their common rooms, they all trouped down to the Great Hall. They were laden with brooms and balls and a full bottle of firewhisky.
"You sure we can't use Bludgers?" James asked as he set down his things and took a seat at the empty Gryffindor table.
"No Bludgers," Seven said, shaking her head. "You can't use Bludgers inside."
James and Sirius exchanged grins.
"I mean, you can," Sirius said, unscrewing the firewhisky and taking a sip. "You just probably shouldn't do it if you care about the furniture."
"Mum fixed that chandelier in the end," James said, shrugging. "And Dad thought it was funny."
Seven giggled. "No Bludgers," she repeated. "Some of our, er, less experienced players could get hurt."
"It's alright," Remus said. He took the bottle from Sirius and helped himself to a sip. "You can just come out and say we're rubbish and might get knocked off our brooms. It's fine."
"Speak for yourself," Mary said. "None of you have ever seen me play Quidditch. For all you know, I could be good enough to play professionally."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "That seems unlikely."
"Unless you want to play for the Cannons," James added. "In which case, you'd be perfectly qualified."
"So what's your vision for this, Peter?" Lily asked, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of Sirius's irritated grumbling.
"We're going to split into three teams." Peter climbed up onto the bench for added dramatic effect. "Seven and Moony, Prongs and Evans, Padfoot and Mary. The more, er, skilled players will fly the brooms, and the less skilled players have to try and get the Quaffles into these rubbish bins."
Grinning, he levitated three rubbish bins into the air..
"Since there won't be actual Bludgers, we're using water balloons instead," Peter continued, opening a bag to reveal a heaping pile of full water balloons. One had burst, and it leaked water onto the floor in a slow drip. "Everyone will get a supply, and any player can throw them, but once they're gone, they're gone, so use them wisely."
"You mean don't waste them in the first minute chucking them all at you?" Sirius asked, smirking.
"That's exactly what I mean, yes."
"Is there a Snitch?" Seven asked. "How do you know when the game's over?"
"No, it seemed like there was enough going on without a Snitch," Peter said. "So I suppose the game's over when everyone is too drunk to stay on their broom, or McGonagall comes down and breaks up the game, or Padfoot and Mary start snogging in midair. Whichever comes first."
"What are you going to be doing, Peter?" Mary asked. "You can try to squeeze on the back of Black's broom with me if you like."
Sirius laughed and cast a dubious glance at Peter. "Are you mad, Macdonald? We'd never get off the ground."
Sirius's derisive look sent a twinge of embarrassment through Peter, but he forced a laugh.
"Then we can take turns," Mary offered.
"Yeah, I don't mind swapping out, either," Remus said.
Sirius shook his head. "No, Pete can be on map duty. And he can referee. Maybe he can be in charge of the water balloons? Like if you exhaust your stash he'll have a few more, but you've got to do something stupid to get them, and Pete can decide if you're worthy or not."
"That's so silly," Mary said.
"It's incredibly silly," Sirius agreed. "Which is why Prongs is going to love it."
"I do love it." James ran a hand through his hair and frowned, then clapped his hands together. "I've got it. If you want any extra water balloons, you're going to have to tell Peter a joke. If it's funny enough, you get a water balloon, otherwise he gets to throw one at you."
"Oh, that'll be easy then," Mary said, looking at James and Lily. "No offense to you two, but your jokes are horrible."
James grinned and mounted his broom. "Liar. You laughed for ages about that frog joke."
"Well, that's because I was stoned off my arse," Mary said.
They divided up the balloons into three bags and mounted their brooms, then waited for Peter to signal the start of the game.
"Oh, here," James said, removing his whistle from around his neck and tossing it to Peter. "Feel free to make up stupid rules and call us out for violating them."
Peter glanced down at the whistle and frowned. "What if someone hears?"
James shrugged, unconcerned. "Just keep an eye on the map and we should be fine."
He took off into the air, followed by Sirius and Seven. As soon as they were all in the air, Mary and Remus let out undignified shrieks as several water balloons hit them and burst, splattering their clothes with cold water.
"I got excited," Lily said, a sheepish smile spreading across her face when James shot her a questioning look.
"I hope you're ready for hilarious jokes, Wormtail," James called. "This one's overeager and is going to go through our water balloons in about five minutes."
Peter leaned back against the Gryffindor table to watch the game, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to keep track of the points.
"Hang on!" he called after giving the whistle a short, sharp blast. "You need team names so I can make scoreboards."
"Good point," James said. "You can come up with them, Pete. I think they should be as insulting as possible. That might motivate us to play harder."
"Oh," Peter said, taking a sip of firewhisky to buy himself a bit of time. "Right. Erm, well, Padfoot and Mary can be the Trouserless Team. You and Lily can be, er, Team Lily Wears the Trousers—"
This elicited a snort of laughter from Sirius, and Peter beamed and continued.
"And Remus and Seven can be Team Elbow Patches." He pointed his wand at each of the rubbish bins, and a banner unfurled with the name of each respective team. After a moment's consideration he added a scoreboard over by the staff table.
"How do I make it keep score?" he asked, waving his wand uncertainly at the scoreboard. "What's that spell that's sort of like the Protean but not?"
Sirius rolled his eyes and pointed his wand at the scoreboard.
"There." He tossed the Quaffle through one of the rubbish bins and nodded with satisfaction as the numbers on the scoreboard changed to reflect the goal. "'The Protean but not,' make sure you reference that spell on the N.E.W.T. exam. That'll be sure to get you full marks."
As they resumed the game, Peter checked the map to ensure there were no teachers or prefects heading for the Great Hall. After only a few minutes, water sprayed Peter's face from a rogue water balloon. The air filled with bright colors and water droplets as all three teams quickly exhausted their balloon stores. Laughing and pushing his sopping hair out of his face, Sirius hovered beside Peter so Mary could hop off.
"We need more balloons," Sirius said, holding up the two finger salute to Remus as he and Seven flew by. "Give him your best joke, Macdonald, and I'll be back in a minute." He shook his head, splattering her with water droplets, then took off and flew toward their undefended rubbish bin.
"Alright, what's your joke, then?"
Mary pushed a strand of dripping hair behind her ear. "Shit. I don't actually have one."
"Then I guess you're not getting any balloons." He held the bag of water balloons out of her reach and grinned.
She laughed and leaned against the table. "Oh, come on, can't you just give me one?"
He shook his head. "Sorry, I've got to follow the rules. This is basically my only job, besides checking the map." His eyes widened and he scrambled behind him for the map. "Actually, I haven't checked it in a while."
While he peered down at the map, James zipped by and threw a water balloon at Seven. It burst just above them and rained down on their heads.
"Did they get the map wet?" Mary asked, glancing at it in alarm.
"Nah, it's fine, it repels water." Peter held it up and demonstrated as a small puddle of water rolled off onto the floor, leaving the map unmarred. "Remus did it. It took him ages."
"Oh, brilliant." Mary grabbed the firewhisky bottle and took a sip, frowning. "Alright, I still need a damn joke. What's that one Lily likes, about the waves?"
Before she could come up with the joke, Sirius landed beside them and gave Mary an expectant look.
"Where's our water balloon, Macdonald?"
Mary scowled. "I can't think of the fucking joke. How does that one go that Lily likes, something about a wave? I can't remember the punchline."
Sirius shook his head in exasperation. "Macdonald, that is the punchline."
She tilted her head sideways and bit her lip. "No it's not… oh, wait!" She turned to Peter, a triumphant smile on her face. "Got it! How does the ocean say hello?"
Peter exchanged looks with Sirius. "It waves?"
Mary burst into laughter. "Oh, fuck me. I guess I did ruin the punchline, didn't I?"
She leaned against Sirius, her head thrown back in laughter, and her amusement was contagious, because Peter found himself laughing, too.
"Macdonald, you are bloody awful at telling jokes," Sirius said. "You deserve a water balloon thrown at you for that. You did get Pete to laugh, though."
"Here," Peter said, handing her a balloon. As she took it and placed it in the bag attached to their broom, Peter threw one that hit her arm and exploded, soaking her feet. "Sorry, but you did sort of deserve that."
They took off into the air again, darting after James in pursuit of the Quaffle, and Peter helped himself to another sip from the bottle. His body was relaxed and loose, and he felt a pleasant detachment as he sat here listening to the shouts and shrieks of his friends as the Quaffle flew through the air and rebounded off the rubbish bins. James dove down to snatch up the Quaffle just before it hit the ground, and Peter cheered and gave him a thumbs up. The firewhisky and frivolity had eased the frustration of losing, returning James to his usual cheerful self. Peter heaved a sigh of satisfaction, marveling that his ridiculous idea had actually worked.
"What's going on here?"
Peter's heart dropped when he heard Filch's voice raised in anger, and he turned to see the caretaker glaring at them from the other side of the Great Hall. Heart pounding, he grabbed the whistle and blew several loud, shrill blasts.
"It's Filch!" he shouted, waving with one hand and reaching for the firewhisky bottle with the other. "Make a run for it!"
The shrieks and shouts intensified, taking on an urgent quality and punctuated by occasional nervous laughs. As Peter sprinted for the door, slipping on puddles and bits of broken water balloon, he heard an indignant cry behind him. He darted a glance over his shoulder and roared with laughter as he saw what looked like the remainder of the water balloons cascading down on Filch's head. The caretaker's furious shouts followed them out into the corridor.
They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait hole, dripping and gasping for air. Between peals of laughter James gave the password, and they stumbled into the common room and up the stairs to the dormitory.
"We're fucked," Remus gasped, prying off his shoes and collapsing onto the floor in front of his bed. "He knows it was us. He's going to report us for sure."
"It was worth it," Sirius said, launching himself into Remus's bed. "We really got him good with those water balloons. Did you see his fucking face?"
"Why are you on my bed?" Remus demanded, scowling as Sirius's hair left a wet imprint on the pillow.
"I'm soaked." Sirius gestured at his drenched clothes. "I didn't want to get my own bed wet."
"You didn't see him coming on the map, Peter?" Mary sat down across from Remus and forced her damp, tangled hair into a messy ponytail. "Was it because you were too distracted laughing at my botched joke?"
Peter didn't reply. There was a swooping feeling in his stomach as he patted his pockets, his movements becoming more frantic when he found nothing but his wand.
"What's wrong?" James asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Peter shook his head and gazed around at them in wide-eyed horror. "The map," he croaked. "I left the map down in the Great Hall."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
"Fuck," Sirius muttered, sitting up on Remus's bed. "That's not exactly ideal, is it?"
"It's not your fault, Peter," Lily said. Her eyes were bright with concern. "There was a lot going on."
He shook his head again. "I can't believe I forgot it. He's going to confiscate it for sure. We'll never get it back."
All the hours the four of them had spent researching and tinkering, all the evenings they had wandered the castle mapping its secrets, all the late nights gathered around the map spread out on James's bed — it was all lost. Lily didn't understand everything the four of them had poured into that map, and now Peter had left it behind like a worthless scrap of parchment.
"I've got to go back for it," he said, stumbling through the door and down the stairs before anyone could stop him. The common room and the corridor beyond rushed by, everything becoming a blur as he hurtled down stairs and around corners until he reached the Great Hall. Peter clutched a stitch in his side as he peered through the doors. A bucket and mop sat abandoned in the center of the room, while Filch leaned against the Gryffindor table. Peter held his breath as he shifted his position and saw the piece of old parchment clutched in Filch's hand. The caretaker's face twisted in anger as he stared down at the parchment, reading what Peter guessed were accurate yet offensive remarks about his appearance, demeanor, or personal hygiene.
His mind whirled as he groped for some semblance of a plan, but nothing came to him. I'll just have to wing it, I suppose, he thought, taking a deep breath and preparing to sprint. Maybe if I take him by surprise I can wrestle it out of his hand before he realizes what's happening. He took a step forward—
"What are you doing?"
He turned to find James standing behind him, grasping the back of Peter's shirt. Water still dripped from James's hair into his face, and his eyes were wide with alarm.
"I'm going to try and get it back," Peter said, keeping his voice low and ducking behind the door to stay out of sight.
James shook his head and kept his grip on Peter. "Unless you have some elaborate plan, don't bother."
"What if I create some sort of diversion, and you try to grab it?" Peter suggested. The desperation in his voice bordered on pathetic.
"It's not worth it. Look at him — he's so distracted trying to figure out the map that maybe he'll forget to report us. Come on, we'll go back and figure out a better plan, then break into his office and get it back later."
James released his shirt and turned to leave, his trainers making squelching noises against the floor. Peter remained in the doorway, watching as Filch stuffed the parchment into his pocket and strode across the room.
"In here," James hissed, dragging Peter into a broom cupboard and pulling the door shut behind them just as Filch burst into the Entrance Hall. His face was purple with rage as he swore under his breath.
"Water balloons and brooms indoors, that's bad enough, and then this bloody parchment makes indecent suggestions about me and my cat? No, I've had enough – just wait until Dumbledore hears about this."
His angry voice faded as he hurried out of sight. James and Peter looked at each other and burst into laughter.
"I'll bet it called him a catfucker," James said, peeking out the door and gesturing for Peter to follow. "Well, nobody can ever accuse Padfoot of being subtle…"
They took the long way back to Gryffindor Tower to avoid Filch. After their initial amusement at Filch's outrage, they lapsed into subdued silence. Peter's mind presented him with increasingly outrageous ideas as he fixated on how they could get the map back. They had to get it back somehow, no matter what it took, because Peter refused to accept that he was responsible for losing it forever.
"It's alright, Wormtail," James said when they had ascended two flights of stairs and most of a corridor without speaking a word. "Nobody will hold it against you. It was only a matter of time before it got confiscated, really. It could have been any of us."
Peter sighed, unable to look him in the eye. "But it wasn't any of us. It was me."
"It's alright. We'll get it back – we've just got to work out how."
His tone conveyed the usual combination of determination and confidence that allowed James Potter to achieve almost anything he set his mind to. It comforted Peter, yet he kept circling back to that initial moment of shock when he discovered the map was gone. It was one of their greatest magical achievements, and now it was lost, and it was Peter's fault. Even if they got the map back and his friends forgave him for this, where was the limit? How many mistakes could he make before James stopped saying It's alright, Wormtail and flashing him that reassuring grin? He lay awake thinking about it long after the rest of them had fallen asleep.