Chapter Twenty-Four: The Game of Kings

April turned to May, and May suddenly felt about as fast as a month could get: James couldn't remember the last time he had dreaded a month ending as much as this one. The end of May meant the end of Quidditch and classes, the end of lazy afternoon strolls and stolen kisses between lessons. The end of May meant NEWTs, and James wasn't sure if he was ready for them.

But he decided to push the looming prospect of quill and paper to the back of his mind; he wouldn't be needing them, anyway. Instead, he dedicated his time to Quidditch, drawing up new strategies and techniques. His heart was warmed as he saw his team trying their utmost hardest to please him – the final would be his and Marlene's last, after all.

Quidditch was put on hold, however, when James traipsed down his dormitory one morning and found a bunch of notes and parchment rolls waiting for him on the table. He glanced curiously at them and picked one up.

"What's that?" said Lily, snaking up behind him. She propped her chin on his shoulder so she could read.

"Seems like our license results," murmured James, rubbing the side of her neck absent-mindedly. "Hey, I passed!"

Lily snorted. She plopped down on the sofa and began pulling the other scrolls towards her. James scanned down his parchment.

Provisional Field Licenses

Pass Grades:

Dragon (90-100)

Phoenix (80-89)

Unicorn (70-79)

Fail Grades:

Banshee (60-69)

Troll (50-59)

Gnome (40)

James Potter has PASSED and has received the following:

Overall Offense: 96 (Dragon)

Overall Defense: 85 (Phoenix)

Speed: 85 (Phoenix)

Spells used: 94 (Dragon)

Reaction to opponent's spells: 88 (Phoenix)

Damage done to surroundings (negative): 38 (Gnome)

Embarrassment to self (negative): 79 (Unicorn)

Note from scorer(s):

People don't usually fall on their faces during duels - Siegfried Wagner

With an average of 80.1, James Potter has received the rank of PHOENIX and is eligible to partake in the war effort, should he wish to.

Enclosed beneath it was a shiny card with his name and picture on it. James beamed and shoved it towards Lily, who dodged and swatted it away.

"Listen, we need to post these up on the bulletin boards," said Lily. "I'll call in the other prefects and have them take the ones they belong to. Meet you in Gryffindor Tower? You can post these there."

"No problem," said James, snatching the parchment rolls from her hand. "Aren't you proud of me? I passed, you know."

"What am I, your mum?" said Lily.

"So you're not proud?"

Lily laughed and kissed him. "I'm very proud, you big baby. What'd you get?"

"I'm a Phoenix now," grinned James. "Fits, doesn't it? I'm joining the –"

"Yeah, yeah," said Lily, standing up. "I know, James. You don't need to keep on yapping about it, you've only told me around a billion times."

"What'd you get, then?"

"Me?" asked Lily. She glanced at the parchment held in her hands. "Oh, you know."

Quick as lightning, James snuck a peek at her license and blanched.

"You got a perfect score?" said James, slightly hoarse. "That's impossible."

"It's possible," said Lily seriously. "Now, why don't you run along and go to Gryffindor Tower? No one should be up yet."

Lily was right, of course. It was nearly seven o'clock on a Saturday morning. When James climbed into the portrait hole, the only people around were a bunch of skinny first years who jumped at the sight of him. James waved at them and set about posting the announcements to the bulletin boards: that tonight, after dinner, those who had gotten their licenses were to gather in the Entrance Hall.

James clambered up the stairs towards his old dormitory, fully expecting his friends to be asleep. As he got closer, he could hear Remus's low, stern voice through the door, drowned out by muffled laughter. Perhaps someone had failed? James hadn't stuck around after his duel with Marlene, and he hadn't asked around to see if it was more likely to pass or fail.

He opened the door without knocking, stepping quickly into the room and bracing himself for the water spells he was sure were going to come his way. Sure enough, quite a few did; he managed to duck under them, only getting sprayed in his hair.

"Oh, it's you, Prongs," said Peter, lowering his wand. "Sorry. Force of habit."

James shook the water out of his head and looked around. All three of his friends were on their respective beds, traces of laughter still on their faces and clutching unrolled pieces of parchment, similar to the ones he had just pinned to the notice boards.

"You already got them, then?" inquired James. "Go on, tell me."

"We all passed," said Sirius. "Wormy just barely, though, and get this, Prongs – he got a T in speed!"

Peter threw a pillow at Sirius.

"Shut it, you," he mumbled. "S'not my fault my partner was a bloody Zouwu, what with how fast he was. You didn't see, did you, Prongs?"

James shook his head and stretched down next to Peter.

"Good thing you didn't," came Sirius's voice. "I couldn't bear to watch, it was almost painful…"

"Mental," said Peter, ignoring Sirius. "For a bunch of know-it-alls, those Ravenclaws sure are scary."

"You fought a Ravenclaw?" asked James, surprised. "Who?"

It was Remus who answered.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," he said grimly. "Sixth-year, probably the best, too. The Ministry's got their eyes on him – if anyone's getting into the Auror academy, it's him."

"He's on the Quidditch team," said James suddenly, as the image of a hulking teenager swam past his mind. "He's a Chaser, I played him last year… how'd you manage that one, Wormy?"

"Well, I'm not really sure, but I think he has allergies," said Peter, his beady eyes glancing at Sirius, who bit his cheek from snorting. "Hyacinths. You know them, right? They're spring flowers."

"How'd you know he was allergic to hyacinths specifically?" asked James.

"Well," said Peter, clearly uncomfortable. Sirius's eyes shone with mirth. "I might've… you know when you're nervous and you start stumbling over your words a little?"

"Yes," said James, as Sirius laughed.

"Well," said Peter again, "That's what happened. I was trying to make him fall – you know, Cadaredeus – but he got me with a Tongue-Tying curse first, and all I could manage was Orchideus." Peter looked at his wand solemnly. "I think the rest speaks for itself."

James got the sudden, vivid picture of a hyacinth necklace appearing on Kingsley Shacklebolt's beefy neck.

"No shame in losing to Shacklebolt," said James. "Hell, I almost wish I'd lost like that… Marls made me look like a bloody clown." James frowned at Sirius, suddenly remembering his conversation in the Infirmary tent. "Have you talked to her yet?"

Sirius frowned back at him. "Talked? About what?"

"You tell me, Pads," said James, stretching up. "Weren't you the one with your knickers all in a twist over her? I thought you'd straighten things out."

"I'm still working on the finer details of how I'll deal with it all," retorted Sirius. "It'd be going a lot faster if someone were helping me."

He threw an exasperated, mischievous look at Remus, whose face remained cool. James wanted to wince.

"I'd rather not, thank you," said Remus quietly, standing up as well. "Shall we go down to breakfast?"

The four of them were quiet as they descended towards the Great Hall. Sirius seemed to have realised he had said something wrong, for he hung back and walked with Peter. Remus looked even more tired than usual, and he answered James's joking questions with tight, one-word answers.

They took a left, passing a suit of armour that lay dozing on the alcove it had been stationed at, and entered the Great Hall. The delivery owls must have already passed; a couple of students had their newspapers set up on cups and ketchup bottles.

"Hand me those eggs, Prongs," said Sirius as they sat down at their usual spots. "And that orange juice? Thanks…"

James passed him the food, reaching past Remus to get it. Remus's eyes followed his hands back to Sirius.

It was not as though he did not know, thought James. He was not entirely sure with how he felt about it, either. It was not the fact that Remus Lupin was gay that bothered him.

Muggles and wizards had been killed for less, sure. But he had never stopped to think – never imagined that he would be dealing with this, so close to graduating, with one party already in a relationship. A strange relationship, to be perfectly honest, thought James, but it was a relationship nonetheless. He had suspected that Remus liked Sirius for a long while now, but had never said anything. He had thought it would pass, that it was just a normal case of confused feelings, but he wasn't so sure now. He did not know if he wanted them to get together; Sirius was dating Marlene, after all, someone he considered a sister. But if they did, for some stupid reason James didn't want to think about, and then split up for some other stupid reason… would their friendship survive? James remembered the months that had followed the incident with Snape in the fifth year, the exhaustion of having to go between Remus and Sirius and back to Remus because he was the most hurt, then back to Sirius because he was his best friend – he had not enjoyed it. Would a break-up be any different from that?

"Thanks, Alice," he heard Remus say beside him. "Nothing too strange, I hope?"

James looked over. Alice, who had scooted over to them from the other end of the table, had handed Remus her copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Depends on what you consider strange," said Alice, shrugging. "You've got the Dover stronghold demanding the Ministry pay ransom money, they say they've got two Muggle families locked up with them. If you ask me, that's a load of bollocks. I heard from Frank that Dumbledore got as many out as possible. They can't even confirm their names. But –" Alice made a sour face, "there's an article on the back that says they've taken over communications to the Ministry in London, so whatever news that comes their way's bound to be fake or tweaked. Only thing they haven't touched is the sky from Hogwarts to London, so I guess we have that going for us. Either way, the Ministry's screwed."

"Ah," said Remus, frowning. "They're really making big steps, aren't they? These Death Eaters."

"That's one way to put it," said Alice darkly. "And what've we got? The Ministry, who're handing out licenses to school students. What Barty Crouch is doing up there, I have no idea…"

"You should replace him," commented James, taking a quick look at the newspaper. "I reckon three or four years and you've got the position basically handed to you, no problem."

"That's not the worst of ideas," said Alice. "Speaking of licenses, Marly wanted to gloat about hers. She got a Dragon, and she says she knows you didn't get anything close to that."

"Awfully nice of her to assume things," said James, spreading jam on his toast. "I mean, she's not wrong, but still…"

Lily and Marlene sidled into the Great Hall just as James was finishing up his breakfast. Marlene, affectionate as always, slapped the back of his head and took a piece of bacon from Sirius's plate.

"Fancy seeing you here, James," said Marlene, grinning. "I take it you already know I passed?"

James rolled his eyes. "Sod off."

It was a surprisingly pleasant day. Without Quidditch to worry him, James found that he actually liked being on the ground. The weather was nice and everybody seemed to have had the same idea of spending their time outside. Lunch was the same as ever, but it was dinner that seemed to have gripped the interest of many of the older years – he could sense the excitement and curiosity lingering around the Great Hall as James and the others hung back and saw Dumbledore, a rare sight on its own, smile at them all and beckon them towards the Entrance Hall.

Lily slipped her fingers in his as they joined the crowd of sixth and seventh years.

"Wonder what this is going to be about?" murmured Lily. "I heard a rumour that they were going to get Aurors stationed around the castle. Maybe Dumbledore wants to give us a heads-up?"

James raised an eyebrow. "About time. They should've been here ages ago."

"Can't say I don't agree with you," said Lily.

They found a place near the doors and waited for Dumbledore to speak. James could see no Aurors, nor any Ministry official around, which he found odd. He had wanted at least Siegfried Wagner to show up, just so he could curse him into oblivion for letting his duel go too far.

"Good evening," said Dumbledore, once they had settled down. "If you are here, then that means you have passed the Ministry's challenges and received a provisional license. For that, I wish to congratulate you."

Next to him, Lily clapped, and it was soon repeated all throughout the crowd.

"There is, however, news I must deliver," continued Dumbledore, when they had quieted. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement – or rather, Barty Crouch – has found that our security is rather lax, and wishes for Aurors to be stationed around Hogwarts. I disagree."

There were some whispers around him; James and Lily exchanged a glance.

"I pointed out to the Ministry that the last time an Auror had come to Hogwarts, it had resulted in the near-death of a student. I am, of course, talking about Miss Emmeline Vance, who has recovered marvellously and has even procured a license for herself."

That was true enough. All the provisional lessons after the incident had been taught by a duelling instructor. James looked for Emmeline; she and Mary were not too far from him and Lily, and she seemed rather embarrassed to have all the other students craning their necks towards her.

"The Ministry wasn't too pleased, I'm afraid," said Dumbledore, smiling faintly. "I beg you not to be surprised when you read tomorrow's paper and find that the Ministry has painted me in a rather unflattering light. But I will stand by my decision – I will not risk the life of another student, and the Ministry has simply become too untrustworthy. For those who are uneasy – rest assured, the Death Eaters will not target Hogwarts as long as I am Headmaster."

There were a few uneasy looks, but no one said anything. No one disagreed.

Dumbledore went on. "The reason I am telling you this is because I want you all to be careful. Everyone here has – forgive me – proven that they show a higher understanding of magic than the rest of your fellow peers, particularly the younger ones. Use the knowledge you gained through your lessons to help anyone you can, for I fear we will need it. Once again, I congratulate you. That is all."

A few people blinked, including James. He had not expected it to end quickly. He and Lily had already moved towards the stairs when Dumbledore called out: "A word with the Head Boy and Head Girl, if you please!"

He and Lily exchanged another, more curious glance. They waited for the other students to leave – Sirius and Marlene both smirked at him, like the two peas in the pod they were – and shuffled back towards Dumbledore, who smiled and beckoned them closer.

"Forgive me for not consulting with you two beforehand," said Dumbledore quietly. "For what it's worth, I did not talk to Professor McGonagall or any of the House Heads either. This was a decision based entirely on my personal feelings towards Barty Crouch and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a whole. I had to act quickly."

"That's all right, Professor," said Lily earnestly. "To be perfectly honest, I think I would have done what you did."

With his face obscured in half-shadow, Dumbledore looked more sage-like than ever.

"Even now, I am not entirely sure rejecting the Aurors was the right thing to do," muttered Dumbledore, frowning. "It would be incredibly foolish of me to assume that I alone am enough to dissuade Voldemort and his Death Eaters from coming near Hogwarts."

"Aren't you?" said James nervously.

The answer seemed to amuse Dumbledore. He chuckled.

"Let us hope," said Dumbledore. "I fear things will only get worse from now on. Let us hope that Hogwarts stays untouched, even if just for a moment longer."

He sighed and shook his head, his long, grey beard swaying from side to side.

"Perhaps you could request that the Ministry station their Aurors in Hogsmeade?" said Lily. "That way, the village'll be protected, and they'll be just in reach of Hogwarts. They'll be far enough for us to keep an eye on, too."

"That could work," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I will ask Barty tomorrow. Though I very much doubt he'll be in love with the idea, it is better than nothing, I suppose. Now then –" Dumbledore clapped his hands together, "As I said, I merely wanted to clear things up with you two. I've kept you from your peers for long enough, and it is time for me to get my paperwork in order."

He looked quite displeased at the idea. He bid them goodnight and, holding hands, James and Lily retired to their tower.

The stint of relaxation continued on Sunday; James and Sirius got in trouble for 'accidentally' and 'irreversibly' charming Snape's hair to a bright, glowing pink, for which they received a detention. Lily did not seem at all happy when he told her, but hey, thought James, he needed a bit of fun once in a while, was that not true? Her murderous face did not relent when he'd told her that Snape had tripped Sirius first.

The week that followed, however, proved to be one of the most stressful he and his friends had ever had. It seemed as though every Professor in the castle had forgotten that they had other lessons – the amount of homework they received each day seemed limitless. James was left with barely any time to schedule Quidditch practice around his timetable. Entire nights were spent counter-brewing potions, practising their elemental Transfiguration (which, according to McGonagall, were going to be a major part of their NEWTs) and generally trying not to off themselves from the Astronomy Tower.

James did not know how, or when, but the concept of NEWTs seemed to have sunken into him at last. Perhaps it was because everyone around him kept talking about them, what their predictions were, their try-out scores, and whether it was too late to just drop out. He did not blame them. Two years ago, a year maybe, he would have laughed. He himself was starting to worry.

On Thursday morning, after staying the night in Gryffindor Tower, a sign was posted on the noticeboards:

The Ministry of Magic would like to inform the residents of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that starting on Monday the 17th, Aurors will be posted around the castle. This is to ensure the safety of all students and teachers within. Your well-being is our top priority.

Below that was Barty Crouch's official-looking signature. James made a face over the small crowd that had gathered around the board.

"I thought Dumbledore turned them down?" he muttered to Sirius, who was reading the notice with a frown. "He said he didn't like Crouch, or something."

His question was sort-of answered when he went down to breakfast and found a grim-faced Lily, a newspaper propped against her jug of orange juice. He sat down next to her, greeted her with a kiss behind the ear, and skimmed over the article. He raised his eyebrows.

"Ministry raid uncovers plot to attack Hogwarts castle," read Sirius aloud from behind him. "What do you know, that's exactly the kind of news I want to hear right about now. What else does it say?"

"A few arrests, but nobody important was caught," said Lily, reaching out and gripping James's hand under the table. "At least we know now… I wonder what Dumbledore thinks?"

She glanced towards the staff table. Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, at least you have until Monday before you start worrying," said Sirius, swinging his arms around both of their necks. "It's all downhill after that."

James stabbed a sausage and swallowed it whole. "One last game of Quidditch before hell. Can't say I'm looking forward to it."

Quidditch had become one of his main sources of stress these past few days. Not only was he pushing his team near the brink of exhaustion, he was also forcing himself (and Marlene, for that matter, if he thought about it) to put school behind. James personally had no problems with doing that, since he already had a sort-of job waiting for him at the end of the year, but he thought he saw Marlene shoot him a few exasperated looks, as though she were saying, really?

Thursday was no better than the last three days. He had Herbology first, which usually proved to be more relaxing than any of the other core subjects, but Professor Sprout didn't seem so laid-back these days. She had them all review the life-cycle of the Devil's Snare, something that they had already gone through in their first year, but to nobody's surprise, they had all forgotten. Remus was the only one of their little troupe to not be given homework, as he had been away from their table when Sirius and Peter decided to light the Snare on fire.

Charms was just as, if not more exhausting, than Herbology. Professor Flitwick paired them up and told them to jinx the other however they could, but with a little catch: the use of wands was forbidden. They were starting wandless magic now, something which, yet again to nobody's surprise, absolutely zero people could do. Peter voiced a hopeful thought that he could feel a sort of tingle in his fingertips. Sirius told Peter to shove his fingertips up a place where the sun didn't shine.

James, on the other hand, wanted to complain that it was much too late to be given new material so close to NEWTs, but it may as well have been useless; the next lesson, Defence Against the Dark Arts, also had them practising wandless magic. Professor Hedith seemed quite disappointed that none of them could perform even the most basic of spells – without his wand, James felt like a first-year all over again. They were given an enormous essay on the science behind wandless spells to write, due next week; coupled with Herbology and Charms, as well as every other subject known to wizardkind, James was forced to reschedule his last Quidditch practice to Friday.

"So close to the game?" said Marlene when he'd told her after breakfast. "James, the game's tomorrow. You've got to be mental to schedule practice the night before."

"What, you want me to just cancel it?" said James irritably. "They're the bloody finals, we can't just go in unprepared!"

"We're not unprepared, you idiotic sod," said Marlene viciously. "You're worrying too much."

"She's right, Prongs," Sirius piped up from beside Marlene. "Just take the day off. Relax before the game. You know, what you usually do."

Maybe it was because Sirius was agreeing with her, or maybe because they hadn't had a chance to do anything all week (James had no idea why, but he had been keeping track) that Marlene decided to full-on crash onto Sirius's lips. James pointedly looked away.

"Wow," said Sirius, a little admiration in his voice.

Assuming they had pulled away, James turned back around to scowl at Marlene. "Are you sure you want me to cancel?"

"Yes," said Marlene immediately, smirking. "And stop lying to yourself, Prongsie. You hate practice as much as any of us do. Besides, it's always been tradition for me to have a little fun before games, right, Sirius?"

"Oh, sure," said Sirius, nodding like a saint. "Me too, I got permission from McGonagall to do the commentary again."

James was immensely grateful that he didn't have to do the rounds that night.

"Fine," said James. "Just remember to catch that Snitch as fast as possible. We're tied with Ravenclaw at the top, so a win's a win."

Marlene mock-saluted him. "Aye-aye, captain."

He supposed it wasn't all bad, conceded James. His teammates' faces all lit up when he told them that he was cancelling practice, and that they should rest and relax instead. Classes were much more enjoyable, especially when Lily found out that she had him all to herself later; by the time the second bell rang, they were already kissing on the moving staircases.

He hadn't really noticed it before, but the entire school seemed to be at odds with him, minus his own house. Slytherins would jeer and try to hex him whenever he strolled around a corner; the Hufflepuffs, who James had hoped would support him instead, would throw crumpled rolls of parchment with rather unflattering drawings of Gryffindor's lions being skewered by eagles. And Ravenclaw, of course, grouped around Kingsley Shacklebolt as though he were a person of utmost importance, and would practically hiss if any Gryffindors came close.

None of this bothered him. It was the last day, after all, and Gryffindor were notorious for being the most vocal of supporters. James felt as though he had a small army of his own, meeting the Slytherins' spells with their own, enchanting the Hufflepuffs' parchment to follow them around and hit them instead, and at one point during lunch, they had even held a standoff against the Ravenclaws near the Entrance Hall.

By the time dinner was over, and James and his teammates had fled towards Gryffindor Tower, the school seemed to be in an uproar. Even behind the thick stone walls of the common room, James could hear the voices of hundreds of people shouting the school anthem, which, when he thought about it, had nothing to do with Quidditch. It was a relief when Sirius, Peter and Remus marched in through the portrait hole, their arms laden with snacks and alcohol, and declared that they were going to have a pre-party.

James sat quietly on one of the sofas, cuddled up next to Lily, surrounded by his friends, and as the party went on, he quietly mused to himself about how ridiculous this all was.

It was a dreamless sleep that night.

Gryffindor applause greeted James and his teammates when he entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. He ignored the looks he was getting from the other houses; in the face of his team, and himself on his trusty Nimbus, they were nothing.

He did not eat breakfast, and neither did Marlene. For someone who had told him to relax, she looked quite nervous. Her fingers tapped on her Quidditch robes, and her knee jumped up and down.

By 6:50 he stood up; the entire team followed suit. He had gotten an idea of how the conditions would be when he'd looked out the window, but there was no telling until he was sure.

"Leaving already?" Lily asked, sounding a bit disappointed.

"Yeah," muttered James. "Wish me luck."

In answer, Lily pulled herself up by the neck of his robes and pressed her mouth against his, her fingers digging into ridges into his hair, her sweet scent intoxicating him, forbidding him from saying anything, and for a long, suspended moment he was frozen, surprised that she was doing this in front of the school, in front of the teachers.

Then, slowly, heat spread through him, and he began to thaw.

"You're going to win," promised Lily, as she pulled back.

James smiled weakly. "You bet."

He did not care that their table had grown entirely quiet. He did not notice the smiles that Alice was shooting them both, nor the exasperated looks that Sirius and Peter exchanged. Nobody mentioned the kiss as he walked down towards the pitch, and nobody spoke anything at all until, at last, they reached the arena, and scanned their surroundings.

"Barely any wind, that's good for us… sun's perfect, no way we'll get blinded… Ravenclaw have never been good at kick-offs, but with the ground like this, you'd be an idiot to mess it up…"

James stepped forwards and took a good look at his team. There was no trace of nervousness on any of their faces anymore; they were all smiling, calm and cool, as though they knew what the outcome was going to be. James grinned with them.

The front doors of the castle opened in the distance, and the first students began to spill onto the road.

"Changing rooms," said James.

Those who hadn't already changed switched to their scarlet Quidditch robes. James could feel his old confidence returning when he said, "It's time."

The team hesitated, looking around at the changing rooms for one last time. Outside, he could hear the faint cheering of a crowd nearly a thousand strong…

"They're calling for us," said Marlene quietly to him. "Calling for you."

And so they were. The stands were a sea of blue and red. When he walked out, there was a deafening, collective scream of cheers: "POOOOTTEEEER! POOOOTTEEEER!" James pumped his broom into the air, adrenaline surging into him. The voices of two hundred Gryffindor supporters drowned out the rest of the school, aided by the magically-amplified voice of Professor McGonagall, whose face had been painted in red and gold.

"The Gryffindors!" yelled Sirius, from all the way up in the commentator's box. "McKinnon, Bonham, Salley, Carter, Salley, Johnson, aaaaand Potter!"

The crowd, if possible, bellowed even louder.

"And from the other end of the pitch, the Ravenclaws! Led by captain Kingsley Shacklebolt!"

From the Ravenclaw-end of the pitch, the crowd screamed, "KIIIINGS-LEY! KIIIINGS-LEY!"

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch shouted.

James strode forwards and stuck his arm out to Kingsley. He was taller than James, and by quite a bit too, but he did not let himself get intimidated by it. He did not try to crush Kingsley's hand, and Kingsley did not, either; they held their heads high and nodded at each other.

"Teams in position!" said Madam Hooch. "Mount your brooms, fasten your goggles, whatever you need! Three… two… one… UP!"

Fourteen brooms rose into the air. James stretched out his arm and grasped the Quaffle first; he streaked past the entire Ravenclaw team, a blur in the sky, and flicked the ball into the hoop.

"Gryffindor with the fastest goal this season!" Sirius cried. "And now we're back in play – Parkin with the Quaffle, passes it down to Shacklebolt, and now there's a Bludger headed his way – who am I kidding, lad's just way too big! The Bludger barely grazes him!"

Kingsley was nearly as fast as James. James turned a corner and pelted towards him, helplessly watching as his team mounted a failed onslaught against an unstoppable force…

"We've got a game on our hands, folks! Shacklebolt scores and ties it even!"

The Ravenclaw supporters were nearly deafening. Charles Bonham, James's Keeper, looked morose.

"Chin up, Charles!" bellowed James. "We've still got plenty of time! You've got this!"

Charles hurled the Quaffle towards Harley, who saw a Bludger coming his way and passed up towards Paris.

"Now that I can feel," remarked Sirius, wincing. "Pity not all of us are as mighty as Shacklebolt, who, speaking of, has seized the Quaffle in midair!"

James cursed and hurtled back towards his side of the field, but it was no use: Kingsley rammed through his defenders and threw the ball past Charles's outstretched fingers.

"How's that not a foul?" bellowed James at Madam Hooch. "Man's just bullied my entire team!"

Madam Hooch blew her whistle at him. James cursed again and veered off in the opposite direction, following the Quaffle as it soared across the pitch. He was faster than the Ravenclaws; a blink and he had already grasped the ball –

"Prongs, that's a Bludger!"

James rolled over on his broom and flew right past the Beaters, aerialing towards the Ravenclaw Keeper; he took aim, and he flicked –

"HE SCORES!" Sirius bellowed into the megaphone. "A magnificent run by the captain! Twenty-twenty, and we're tied!"

The Ravenclaw Keeper passed the Quaffle towards Kingsley, who seemed to be getting ready for another run. James sped up to meet him, but it had been a ruse; Kingsley feinted and tossed the ball above him, high enough so that James couldn't reach. He turned his broom around and, in an instant, he was neck and neck with Kingsley, wrestling with the ball; the wind and the crowd were roaring in his ears, and both of their teams seemed to have completely vanished –

James shoved his shoulder into Kingsley and managed to grab the ball; he flipped over, his chaser's goggles nearly falling off, and rushed back towards the Ravenclaw goals; he flew past the Beaters and their clubs, past the Keeper, and into the hoop, carrying the Quaffle with him.

"Quite unorthodox, even for the Gryffindor Captain," he could hear Sirius saying. "But who cares? A goal's a goal – now we're back with Ravenclaw in play, Quaffle passed down to Daniels, who passes it to Shacklebolt – back to Daniels, and it seems they're trying to confuse the Gryffindors – and just as I say it, it comes back to bite me – Bludger from Paris – sorry, Hector – and the Quaffle's airborne, it could be anyone's… still staying in no man's land…"

Marlene was flying circles overhead. The Bludgers were soaring around the pitch, but nothing seemed to touch James and Kingsley; it was as though they could do no wrong. They traded back and forth; a goal in Ravenclaw also meant a goal in Gryffindor. The score had stayed tied at 60-60 when Sirius announced that it had been ten minutes already.

At fifteen minutes Harley Johnson scored his first goal of the game. At seventeen Kingsley had greeted it with his own. At twenty, the first foul had been committed.

"Stay on your own broom, Chapman!" James roared at the Ravenclaw Beater, who had grabbed hold of Paris Salley's broom and tried to hit him with the bat.

Madam Hooch gave Paris a penalty for this; James crossed his fingers and watched from above. Paris took a deep breath, swept his broom in a sharp turn and curved the ball towards the lower hoop – the Keeper flung desperately and missed.

"That's going to play games on his mind, how'd he miss that? Seventy-sixty, Gryffindor!" shouted Sirius, amidst cheers from the stands. "What a game it's been – Chapman doesn't seem too happy about it!"

The Quaffle flew across the pitch onto James's end. Half of the brooms on the pitch soared towards it, and soon the sky was once again filled with blurs of scarlet and blue, but James stayed back, under everybody else. He wanted to keep a close eye on Kingsley.

Just as he'd predicted, Kingsley emerged victorious from the squabble and shot towards the hoops, both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tailing behind him like a broomcade. At once, James had matched his speed, still under both teams; right before Kingsley threw, James hurtled upwards, slamming the tip of his broom into Kingsley's – the Ravenclaw Captain yelled in surprise, flipping over and fumbling the Quaffle; knowing he only had seconds, James swiped it –

It was another run. He'd left both teams flying in the wake he'd left behind – not a Beater nor any of their Bludgers were in sight, and it was an open goal…

James grinned; he always scored these – he took aim, flicked it, and the ball flew in through the lower hoop. He rotated back and pumped his fist in the air, whooping at the top of his lungs.

"He's just too good!" cried Sirius, leaning against the edge of his box and throwing James a thumbs-up. "We lead the game, and Kingsley Shacklebolt seems to have lost it with his Keeper – shame they can't replace him!"

The Ravenclaw-end of the pitch booed him. Sirius only shrugged.

It was then that Ravenclaw started to play dirty. Bats were thrown and brooms were nearly broken. The team only needed to look at James for approval before they began to fight back, cutting off Chasers and whacking Beaters with their tails. Madam Hooch was furious.

"Honestly!" she screeched, seizing her whistle so quickly the rope snapped from her neck. "Enough of this!"

A Bludger slammed into Paris Salley's ribs just as he was about to throw. Alex Carter, James's Beater, retaliated by hitting the Bludger point-blank into one of the Ravenclaw Chaser's chests. James bit his tongue from laughing – an illegal move from Alex, but the game was going so smoothly James didn't care. He was a better flyer by far than anybody else on the Ravenclaw team. His broom turned with the lightest touch and sped up with a mere command. In the air, he was invincible.

Kingsley took the free-kick for Ravenclaw; the throw was perfect, but James was faster – he seized the ball before Charles had even had a chance to lunge, and passed down to Harley Johnson –

"Johnson with the Quaffle – bloody hell, no, Shacklebolt's practically stolen it from him – and here he comes for the Gryffindors, some of the crowd have taken to calling him The Bull – Prongs, where the hell are your defenders?"

It was only James that hovered in the air between Kingsley and Charles. James tightened his grip on his broom and put on a burst of speed, hoping to scare Kingsley away –

"He goes for a right – no, a left, good feint by Kingsley – he's clear, he's left Gryffindor in the dust – he's going left, Bonham, save it, save – ahhhh…"

Groans erupted from the Gryffindors; James wanted to kick himself. Sirius voiced the thoughts in his head to the crowd: "Never leave only a single defender on your side of the pitch unless you have full possession, folks! Bad call from Prongs there…"

Charles passed to Paris; he ducked under a Ravenclaw Chaser and threw up to James, who faked a pass back to Paris and dropped the Quaffle down to Harley. The pitch's atmosphere changed suddenly, and James knew, somehow, that they were nearing the end, that this was going to be their last fight for possession, and so set his eyes forward, trusting Harley to keep the Quaffle –

But he had been stupid; the Ravenclaws had anticipated it and had pulled back, forming a sort of wall between Harley and the hoops. If James were to speed up now, and Harley lost the Quaffle, there would be no one left to defend…

Then, out of nowhere, like a bullet from the sun and the clouds, Marlene dive-bombed into the fray, flat on the handle of her broom, her blond hair whipping behind her like a mane –

"DON'T STOP!" she bellowed.

The Ravenclaws all veered backwards and scattered in disarray. Harley put on a burst of speed, dodging between the chinks in Ravenclaw, and shot the Quaffle right at the Keeper. The ball bounced off his head and, miraculously, into the upper hoop.

"What a play!" Sirius shouted excitedly. "Marlene McKinnon saves Harley, and Gryffindor lead! But Gryffindor've got to pull back, they've overextended and it's only James and Salley – it seems Marlene's got the same idea –"

But James did not get the chance to thank Marlene, for she had not stopped. A moment later, he saw why – the Ravenclaw Seeker had shot towards her, and in an instant, they were so close it was hard to tell who was who, two blurs in the sky, one red and the other blue, bumping and kicking each other, all following the shiny golden ball that zipped in front of them…

"Keep on scoring!" Kingsley's deep voice boomed throughout the pitch. "Forward!"

Paris Salley streaked past James to help Harley, who was fighting a one against many, but James stayed glued in his spot in the air, watching the two Seekers race each other. The wind seemed to have stopped. James's heartbeat slowed. The stadium grew oddly quiet as they, too, watched with bated breath, as the final moments of the Quidditch Final were played out… the Seekers lowered and lowered, nearly level with the stands…

Hector Salley swung a ferocious hit at the Bludger coming his way – it hit one of the Ravenclaw Chasers square on the head and, still at full speed, ricocheted right off him and towards the Ravenclaw Seeker.

It caught his leg and he flipped over on his broom and tumbled out of the sky – he was out of the race. James refrained from shouting – Marlene was so close, and yet, the distance between her palm and the Snitch seemed infinite…

And when her fingers finally grasped it, he could make no sound. The stadium below them erupted into roars and cries, and the Gryffindors jumped up and hugged their neighbours, be it other Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws, but not Slytherins, for they would never hug them – James didn't know. He let out the breath he had been holding and grinned the biggest grin he had ever grinned, so bright he was sure he was shining; his entire team had found each other and found him, and together, they descended upon the ground, Marlene holding the Snitch high above her head, her lips trembling and her eyes blurry, and James felt the same way as he let the others hug him and he hug them. It wasn't a feeling he got often, one where he felt like he could do no wrong, that everything had turned out as he had hoped, that nothing could stop him.

He had once read a story about a warrior named Musashi who had taken on a clan of other warriors, seventy strong, all by himself. The term that had described Musashi back then was that he had been in the Zone. James felt exactly that way, though, this time, he had had a team with him – a wonderful, championship-winning team, probably the last one he would ever be on.

"WE'VE WON THE CUP!"

The voices of two hundred Gryffindors brought him back to earth. He could see Sirius jumping down the commentator's box, ugly tears streaming from his face as he joined the crimson supporters in their rush to hold the team –

"WE'VE WON THE CUP!"

And he saw Professor McGonagall, sobbing even more than Sirius, holding the massive Quidditch Cup, Lily and Remus and Peter next to her, beaming so brightly they were hard to look at.

"We've won the Cup, we've won the Cup!" he heard Marlene sing, as she and James were hoisted onto the shoulders of the team, as the trophy was passed to them, celebrated as the heroes of the pitch.

In the distance, James saw Kingsley shake his head and smile a grudging smile, joining in the chants that had infected the rest of the school, and when James caught his eye, they both grinned at each other.

I've been playing a lot of Rocket League recently, and my interest in football's been reignited, so there's a lot of inspiration from that in the final.

And before anyone comments on the Remus thing, I have it all thought out. I haven't gotten around to writing it yet, but I'm quite proud and satisfied with how I'm going to resolve it.