Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the amazingly talented J.K Rowling. I'm only borrowing the characters and world that she has so brilliantly created.

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Chapter Two: Tryouts Continue

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"Happy birthday a day late!" Christine greeted me warmly as I took a seat across from her at the café, where we had arranged to meet. "Here's your gift." She pushed a smartly wrapped rectangular box into my hands.

"Thanks!"

She then pushed a saucer with a cup of tea and a scone on it towards me. "I went ahead and got you your favorite. Well, open your present," Christine implored me, motioning to the package in my hands.

She looked on with eager anticipation as I slowly unwrapped the gift. Nestled inside the box on a bed of red and gold tissue paper was a photograph in a gold frame. My breath caught in my throat as I looked down at the photo.

"My Gryffindor team…" I practically whispered. There we all were in the picture – me, James, Zara, Bree, Nico, Lily, and Richard - the Gryffindor team of my seventh year that I had captained.

Across the table, Christine grinned widely. "I thought that photo in particular turned out rather well. I couldn't believe I actually managed to get a shot of all of you holding up the Quidditch Cup without someone's arm in front of someone else's face."

"That is rather amazing," I agreed with a laugh.

In the photograph, James and I turned to look at one another, smiles nearly splitting our faces. There was a bit of blood on my face from my broken nose, and James was covered in mud from his head over heels fall onto the pitch. The entire team was soaked clear through, but we didn't look as if we cared a bit; we were too busy ecstatically celebrating our victory.

"This is an absolutely brilliant present. You're the best, Christine," I told her with a smile.

"I thought you'd like it! Now, how was dinner last night? You said before that Tristan was coming."

I resisted the urge to let my head fall forward against the table. Instead I took a swallow of hot tea. Instantly, I felt a bit more relaxed. Ah, the wonders of tea.

"Dinner was...awkward. For one thing, Grandma Elspeth was there."

Christine bit her lip. "Oh, dear."

She had never met my grandmother, but she had heard plenty of stories of past family gatherings.

I nodded. "That rather sums it up."

"Well," was all she could say after I'd recounted the evening's events to her in detail. She took a drink from her own teacup while I nibbled on my blueberry scone.

"I had sort of thought things were getting better with Tristan," I explained, gazing out of the large glass window through which I could see everyone walking past on the street. "Not great, but better. I mean, Richard and Gareth still aren't really speaking to him, so that's not a good situation. But as far as I know, things are all right with Mum and Dad, and the two of us talked. Then he had to go and bring Elena. I can't help but feel that things would have been different without her there."

"No one would object if you wanted to invite James to a family event, or if Richard wanted to bring Lily," Christine said thoughtfully. "Tristan probably feels as though his girlfriend shouldn't be left out."

I made a face at that thought. "Yeah, but the difference is that no one likes Elena. Well, Mum and Dad won't actually come out and say it, but how can they?"

"Maybe Tristan wants to change that. He probably also wanted someone there on his side."

"On his side?" I asked in confusion.

"Remember when you met him during that Hogsmeade weekend and talked? You told me that he said that Elena had been the only one there for him. She's supported him through his decision to leave Puddlemere and join the Tornados. I mean, obviously he cares about her, but after everything that's happened, having her with him at something like a family dinner probably makes him feel better. A bit less alone."

I sat back in my car, feeling a bit taken aback by her words. I had never thought of the situation with Tristan in quite that light before. The entire dinner it had seemed very much as though Tristan and Elena were completely separate from the rest of the family. How would I feel if I had been in that situation, whatever the reason?

"I just wish that he would come without Elena while we're still getting past this," I finally said.

"It doesn't look like that's going to happen."

"It'd also be a lot easier if she were actually a likeable person. But enough about me," I decided as I finished the last of my scone. "What about you? How's the job search? Have you heard back about that internship?"

Christine flushed slightly, obviously pleased about something. She glanced around and lowered her voice. "Actually, I have an interview with the Museum of Magical Antiquities next week."

I grinned. "That's wonderful news! You've wanted to work there for…well, forever."

"It's entry-level, of course, so the pay could be better, but it's a good starting position," she continued. "I would be able to gain an incredible amount of experience. I'm nervous, but I think I stand a fair chance."

"Of course you do," I assured her. "Rally that Gryffindor spirit!"

This made her laugh. "We're going to be ninety years old and you'll still be telling me to rally my Gryffindor spirit, won't you?"

What kind of Gryffindor would I be if I didn't? A very poor one, that's what.

"We're Gryffindors for life!" I protested with my own smile.

"That we are," she agreed easily. "On a different topic, I've been looking at flats for us."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Really? We don't even know where I'm going to play or where you're going to work."

Those were the ideal outcomes, of course, but there naturally there were no guarantees about what would happen over the next few weeks.

Christine smiled triumphantly. "You underestimate me. I've looked at flats in every town or village that has a team you're trying out for."

I should have expected that, really. Christine was always over-prepared; it's part of what had made her such an exemplary Head Girl at Hogwarts.

"But what about you?" I asked. "We should find some place near where you work too. Or at least not too far from Kieran. And James," I added.

It crossed my mind that those were rather a lot of conditions for the location of a flat. Perhaps this would be more difficult than I had originally imagined.

Christine waved away this argument. "Eva we're wit-" she started, then stopped herself. "I mean, that isn't a problem for people like us. Not like it would be for Muggles. But if you're going to play for a team, don't you think you should live somewhere near that community?"

I really hadn't considered it. I mean, I supposed it was silly not to have done. After all, it made sense. My family lived in rural Dorset, not terribly far removed from the Puddlemere United stadium and headquarters.

"For example, there's a darling two bedroom flat being let in Piddlehinton."

Uh, where? I could not have heard that correctly.

"Piddlehinton?" I echoed. "You don't think we'd be an object of speculation living in a Muggle village? It's not a big place, is it?"

I mean, Dorset was largely rural so options were limited, but still…could she possibility have picked a smaller village?

"No," Christine agreed hesitantly. "But we could pretend to be commuters to London. Actually, I likely will be a commuter to London, just not by train. It's only the flat had a reading nook, Eva. You know how I feel about reading nooks."

I did know. Christine had been hoping to find a flat reading nook or a window seat. It was the one thing she truly had heart set on when it came to a prospective flat.

"Where else?" I asked.

"There's also some nice places in Beaminster," she offered. "And Corfe Mullen."

I nodded. "You never know. Maybe we'll have some luck and find another flat with a reading nook. Or even a window seat."

"You said your tryout went wonderfully," Christine said. "After all, you scored against Rhys! He's main team. I think I'm perfectly right to be looking at flats in Dorset."

I couldn't help but grin in response. "I really, really hope so."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

The two trainers, head coach, and manager of the Catapults regarded me across the table. I had been in this situation during my other tryouts and interviews, but it didn't make being stared down by a group of people any easier.

The Catapults liked to interview potential players before seeing them on the pitch, which was a change from all of my other tryouts up to this point. Twenty minutes had passed since I had sat down in this room and I felt that I had been able to reasonably answer everything asked of me. It was going well, and I was pleased. Hopefully once I made it onto the pitch, it would go even better.

"So, Miss Wood," the Catapults coach, Emrys Pryce, said, looking at me with his slightly beady eyes. "Tell us about where you hope to be in five years in terms of your career."

The real answer was "Playing Chaser for Puddlemere United," but I couldn't very well tell that to the staff of the Caerphilly Catapults, now could I?

"Well," I began slowly, carefully considering my answer, "I would hope to have moved up from the reserves to a main team by the end of five years. Obviously I would like to improve my skills during that time and to be positively contributing to the success of the team."

Bertram Folly, the Catapults manager, had been silent so far, but spoke up now. "I expect the exact same work ethic and dedication from all of my players, and in return, we hold everyone to the same standard and treat you lot the same. If you're fortunate enough to be offered a place on the Catapults reserve side, you would be treated no differently than any other player, regardless of your family connections."

"It doesn't make one jot of difference to me who your family is," Coach Pryce added. "And I don't mean that in a pejorative way, mind. What I care about is that you show up to practice on time and give it your all. Dedication to the Catapults and to Quidditch is what matters to me."

"That sounds more than fair, Sir," I replied.

It was such a relief to hear someone take that viewpoint. Not all of the coaches and managers had, which naturally worried me.

"I think that's all of our questions," Pryce finished up. "One of the staff will see you to the waiting room down the corridor. Best of luck, Miss Wood."

"Thank you for you time," I said politely, then stood and shook hands with each of trainers, Coach Pryce, and Mr. Folly.

As I walked into the waiting room, I saw that there were seven other people there. One was pacing anxiously in front of a large panoramic window with a view of the pitch. Another sat practically motionless in his chair, hands clenched in his lap. Simply looking at those two made me anxious.

Thankfully, the others in the room looked nervous but not as though they wanted to throw themselves out of a window. Considering that I didn't usually recognize people, I was surprised to find that I recognized three of the faces.

A girl with brown hair and green eyes sitting nearest the door looked familiar. I felt fairly certain that she had been in Hufflepuff, the year ahead of me. Chaser.

Then there was Madeline Harper, who had been a Ravenclaw in my year as well as a fellow captain. She gave me a small wave of recognition that I returned. She was a good Quidditch player and the two of us had always been on good terms.

The last person I recognized was former Slytherin Keeper, Victor Banks. We made eye contact and then looked away immediately.

Madeline and Banks were both Keepers, which made me wonder about the positions played by the other people in the room. Some teams were up front about the number of positions required while others kept that information to themselves.

Deciding that I should probably take a seat and stop standing in the doorway like an idiot, I quickly sat down in the chair across from the brown haired Hufflepuff girl.

"Hiya," she said cheerfully, keeping her voice low so as not to bother anyone else. "I'm Ellie Cooper."

"I'm Eva Wood."

"I'm a huge fan of your mum's articles," she told me earnestly. "Her match and player critiques are brilliant. That latest article on the Cannons actually made me rethink their prospects for the coming season."

I had to fight hard not to look surprised. It wasn't that people never told me they enjoyed my mum's writing, but it was typically a follow-up to mentioning my dad. It was rather refreshing to have her brought up first.

"I'll tell Mum," I replied, smiling. "She's always happy to know when people like her writing."

Her face broke into a wide smile. "Wow, thanks! And by the way, I saw you play in the Quidditch final at Hogwarts. I was there visiting my friends in Hufflepuff. You were absolutely spectacular. I'm actually really nervous that you're here. No one's going to look twice at me when you're on the pitch."

Her compliment made me feel pleased yet embarrassed at the same time. I didn't want anyone being nervous on my account. I was talented, but I wasn't perfect. "Don't sell yourself short," I told her. "I'm sure you'll be great."

"You probably want to play for Puddlemere United, huh?"

I hesitated, wary of saying that I wanted to play for Puddlemere in the midst of trying out for the Caerphilly Catapults, but then nodded. "It's been my dream ever since I was a kid."

Ellie nodded in an understanding fashion. "I always wanted to play for the Arrows, but I didn't get a tryout with them. This season or last season."

As far as I was concerned, the Appleby Arrows had no business turning down perfectly skilled Chasers considering the state of their team. They'd been in nearly the bottom of the standings the last several seasons.

"That's rubbish," I replied. "From what I've seen and read, their new Chaser up from the reserves doesn't seem to have much skill. They would've been much better off with you."

"That's nice of you to say," Ellie sighed heavily, "but I was so nervous that I completely fell apart in my tryout with them last year. I'm rather sure that after bungling it that badly I'm on some sort of Do No Contact list."

It was a rather pathetic statement, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she giggled.

Ellie was about to say something else, but just then the door opened and the same woman who had shown me to the waiting room came in.

"They are ready for you on the pitch," she announced. "Please collect your brooms and other gear and follow me."

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders.

When I had entered the stadium, the sun had been shining. Now clouds filled the sky and a light fog had descended. It would be nice not to have to worry about the sun in my eyes, but I could have done without the fog.

"All right," Emrys Pryce called out. "Keepers go with Trainer Brown, Chasers go with Trainer Pierce. I'll be circulating between both groups observing and talking with the trainers."

Four people, including Madeline and Victor, followed a tall man wearing the light green and scarlet vertical striped robes of the Catapults. The other four of us were left with a short but stocky man also wearing Catapults robes.

"Hello all," he said with enthusiasm. "I'm Cedwyn Pierce, otherwise known around here as Trainer Pierce." He looked down as the clipboard he held. "Let's just make sure I know all of your names. Beaumont, Mathilde."

A tall, willowy girl with short, dark hair nodded. "Yes."

"Cooper, Eleanor."

Ellie waved cheerfully at everyone. "You can just call me Ellie."

The man from the waiting room with his hands clenched in his lap turned out to be, "Morris, Somerled."

"Wood, Eva."

"Hello," I said as Mathilde and Somerled each glanced at me with some curiosity.

"Your father," Mathilde asked, "He is Oliver Wood, no?"

I nodded in response, not wanting to say too much about my famous father during a tryout.

She smiled kindly. "Quidditch is in your blood."

" —Well," Trainer Pierce clapped his hands together,[;'ppppppp0 "Let's begin, then shall we? The other group is going to start with flying laps, so we'll be starting with running laps. Five laps on my whistle."

At the shrill tweet, I propelled myself into motion. After the pure torture of laps at Puddlemere, five laps was nothing. I easily out distanced everyone and set a quick pace, but soon enough I heard the sound of footfalls catching up.

"Nice day for running, huh?" Ellie grinned as she drew level with me.

"The best," I replied, pulling ahead a bit.

The entire five laps were like that, with first Ellie and then me pulling ahead, constantly switching places as the front-runner. In the last stretch, I pulled away and came up first, Ellie not far behind. The other two were about a half of a lap behind.

"Well done, well done both of you!" cheered Trainer Pierce. "Have a drink and rest up a bit."

"Cheers," Ellie said as she gulped down the water that was handed to her by an assistant.

"You too," I said as I drank my own water. "I like having someone to run with. It helps me push myself harder."

"Same for me," she agreed.

When we moved on to the flying portion of the tryout, Somerled finished first in flying laps around the pitch. I had seldom seen someone look so natural on a broomstick, like it was just another limb that he controlled with a mere thought. It was almost like watching Victor Krum fly; he had that kind of talent.

Every tryout had been filled with talented players, and this was no exception. I knew that I was capable of playing on the reserves of a professional team, but it seemed like so many of the other players were also well suited. There were a limited number of places available. How would the trainers and coaches make the decisions about who to ultimately choose to join their teams? Would I even be one of them?

After all of our laps on foot and on broomstick, we switched to passing drills. It became immediately clear that working with the Quaffle was going to be the most intensive part of this particular tryout. Unlike other tryouts that had placed equal weight on physical tasks like running and push-ups, the Catapults weren't worrying about that nearly as much.

We completed more passing drills that I had ever done in my life. Basic forward, basic in line, basic reverse, zigzag, weaving, mixed rotation – I lost count of how many times we did each type. My arms were tiring, but we weren't done. Not even close.

After drills, we ran formations. We started with the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, then moved onto the Parkin's Pincer, Porskoff Ploy, and the Woollongong Shimmy. I lost track of how many times we ran each formation. Just like at my Puddlemere tryout, there were four of us so one person had to sit out and was rotated back in. The light fog made everything more challenging, but it didn't prevent me from performing at my best.

"Before we move on to working with the Keepers, does anyone want to try the Transylvanian Tackle?" Trainer Pierce asked with a knowing smirk. He clearly didn't expect anyone to take him up on his offer, with good reason.

The Transylvanian Tackle was a particularly challenging Chaser strategy that involved one Chaser faking that they were going to punch an opposing Chaser in the nose. It was the fact that both people involved were usually flying at high speeds that gave the move its level of difficulty. As long as no contact was made, the move was legal, but considering the challenges involved it usually ended in a penalty.

"I'll give it a go," Ellie spoke up.

Everyone looked at her with surprise. I couldn't believe that someone had offered to try to pretend to punch another person at a tryout. Not to mention that the fog would likely add complications.

But Trainer Pierce looked delighted. "Excellent! Hardly anyone ever volunteers. Of course, we'll need someone to be on the intended receiving end of Ms. Cooper's Transylvanian Tackle?" he asked hopefully, looking at the remaining three of us.

"I'll do it," I spoke up. In no way did I want to be punched in the nose, but if Trainer Pierce was impressed by willingness to attempt tasks, I had to be prepared to at least try. Even if my job was to try to avoid a broken nose.

"Oh, excellent, excellent!" Trainer Pierce clapped his hands gleefully. "Volunteers for this task are even rarer!"

I couldn't imagine why.

Ellie and I mounted our brooms and tossed the Quaffle back and forth a few times. It seemed like a good idea to ease into this before she tried to fake hitting me square in the face.

This had to be real, so I knew I couldn't stay out of range. As hard as I could, I threw the Quaffle at Ellie, who caught it with a slight grunt. At least if she did punch me, I had gotten a strong pass in beforehand.

Ellie then zigzagged around me, drawing closer. Putting on a burst of speed, I neared her, reaching out to try and take the Quaffle from her grasp.

As I drew closer, I maneuvered into the best position to steal the Quaffle. Her technique to stop me would be the Transylvanian Tackle. I saw her arm pull back. There was a determined look on her face as she concentrated. Then —

"Bloody hell!"

Reaching my left hand up, I could feel the blood pouring from my nose. Ouch, that had hurt. I used my right hand to steer my broomstick back to the ground and landed gently before climbing off. Ellie landed next to me, nearly tumbling off of her broom in her haste.

Her voice was full of panic. "Oh, Helga Hufflepuff! Are you hurt? I'm so sorry! I thought I was going to miss, but then I didn't!"

"Ib fine," I told her, using the handkerchief Somerled handed me to staunch the blood. And Ib just earnbed uh penaldy," I said with a smile.

I hadn't meant to let Ellie hit me, but in a real match, earning a penalty would have worked in my favor. Naturally, that was true only if the injury incurred wasn't so bad that I had to be taken out of the match.

"Well done, well done both of you!" Trainer Pierce congratulated us. He made a few marks on his clipboard. "A bonus point for each of you."

Well, that was worth a punch to the nose. But I still hoped that the next part of the tryout didn't involve being hit in the face.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

"I think my Catapults trial went brilliantly!" I cried as soon as I stepped out of the fireplace at the Potter's home.

Pulling out my wand, I muttered, "scourgify," to clean the soot off of my robes.

"It's great to see you too, love," James drawled with a smirk.

"Yes, it was just dreadful being apart from you for a whole day and a half," I replied sarcastically, but leaned in to kiss him all the same.

"Actually," I allowed as we moved apart, "I did miss you at today's tryout. I had to try and outrun someone else."

James raised an eyebrow in a joking manner. "Should I be jealous?"

"Very much so," I said in a flat tone. "Brown hair, green eyes, great smile. Really nice. Her name is Ellie."

"Ellie Cooper, from Hufflepuff the year ahead of us?"

I nodded. I wasn't sure how James managed to remember all of these people's names but I wasn't going to let him know that I had recognized Ellie but had forgotten her name.

"I had to outrun someone too," James said. "Warrington from Slytherin the year ahead of us."

"I sincerely hope you won."

Warrington was practically a troll and not exactly swift on his feet.

"Of course I did," James scoffed. "Otherwise I wouldn't have brought it up. So did you outrun Ellie?"

I nodded proudly even though it technically wasn't by very much. "I outran all of the Chasers."

"How many?"

"Three others," I admitted with a smile.

"And to think I can outrun the girl who outran three people at a Catapults tryout."

"You keep on thinking that," I said with a harrumph and turned my back to him.

Almost at once I felt James's arms slip around my waist and pull me close. That might have been my intention of turning away from him in the first place. "You know I'm the faster runner," he whispered in my ear.

Silly, silly lad.

"You know very well I'm never going to agree with you on that."

"Oh really?" his breath was warm on my neck. It made me shiver slightly, but I wasn't about to let him win.

"Oh hi, Mrs. Potter!" I said cheerfully.

James released me at once and stepped away quickly. When he realized that his mum was nowhere to be seen, he sent a mock glare my way. I grinned back.

"That was a dirty trick," he sulked and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I seem to remember someone kissing me as a distraction to try and outrun me at a practice once…who was that?"

"Those were certainly different circumstances," James defended himself even as the left side of his mouth twitched upwards in a smirk. "Besides, I thought I was amazing. And kind of wonderful."

The smirk he was currently giving me made me want to hold out on him. The smile that crept onto my face might have given me away though. Well, he was right. He was amazing and kind of wonderful.

More than wonderful, really.

"Anything else noteworthy about your Catapults tryout?" James asked, pulling me down to sit next to him on the sofa.

After telling him about the endless drills and formations and being punched in the nose (which he thought was funny considering I had once punched my arch nemesis in the face), I reminded him that I wanted to hear about his Cannons tryout.

"So c'mon," I said eagerly, "tell me about your tryout yesterday!"

James' smirk shifted to a full-blown grin. "Bloody brilliant. For one thing, I didn't volunteer myself to be punched. But really, I think it's my best tryout so far."

"That's wonderful," I pecked him on the cheek. "You think you did better than at the Puddlemere tryout? Because you were really amazing that day."

James nodded. "Even better than that. That's how I felt about it, anyway."

He had been utterly superb (as usual, I had to admit) at the Puddlmere tryout, so to hear that he felt his Cannons tryout had gone even better…I mean, wow.

"Your Uncle Ron must be pleased."

James's Uncle Ron already gave him Cannons clothing and other paraphernalia for every birthday and holiday. Imagine how much worse he'd be if James actually played for the Cannons.

"He's already prepared to buy tickets to every match."

"Doesn't he go to all of the matches anyway?"

"Yeah, but this would justify it to Aunt Hermione," James pointed out with a laugh. "In any case, it's given me a lot to think about."

"Do you think you'll accept them if they offer you a spot?" I asked.

As far as I knew, James was still pondering all of his options. He would have choices; that was certain.

"I dunno," he shrugged, seeming a bit uncomfortable. "I don't want to count my dragons before they're hatched."

I nodded. "I know I've said this before, but it's so difficult not being able to talk about tryouts with Dad. I'd love to have a better sense about how everything is going…"

It was strange, not being able to share news of my tryouts with my Dad, who, more than anyone else, had fostered my love of Quidditch. But considering he coached Puddlemere who had offered me a tryout, I wasn't able to share information with him beyond how I felt a tryout had gone.

"Eva," James put his hands on my shoulders and looked down at me, "I saw you at the Magpies and Puddlemere tryouts and you were amazing. You know that."

I knew it on some level, but I could only do so much to control the outcome. I was only responsible for myself, but what other players did was out of my hands. I could play the best I'd ever done, but someone else's best might be better than mine.

"I like being on the selecting side of tryouts better," I grumbled. "This is tiring, not to mention nerve-wracking."

"Just one more tryout," he reminded me with a smile. "We're so close."

"Then all that's left to do is wait," I replied, feeling positively anxious about the prospect of sitting around anticipating for the day when the fateful post would arrive. "It's going to be bloody terrible. Not that we can do anything about it."

"We can play Quidditch while we wait. Speaking of - I forgot to ask. What are you doing this Wednesday?"

"Probably training for my Harpies tryout on Friday. Why?"

"What would you think about taking a mental break and joining in on Potter family Quidditch? Richard and Gareth can come too. It can be Woods versus Potters."

"That's sounds absolutely brilliant," I told him. "I would love a mental break from tryout training."

Would I ever.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

"Eva Wood scores again, with a brilliant underhand toss!" Fred called out with a laugh as the Quaffle sailed through the center hoop.

"Stop helping the competition!" James cried in exasperation. "Whose side are you on anyway?"

Fred was commentating our Quidditch scrimmage. He was spending more time heckling each team than commentating, but considering this was hardly a regulation match, it was all in fun.

"I'm a Weasley, I don't have a side in this match," Fred pointed out.

"You're our cousin," was James's logical rebuttal.

"You're awfully insistent on beating your girlfriend. I'm just trying to help out the underdogs."

"Oi!" I yelled, indignant, "Who're you calling an underdog?"

Underdog indeed! Not bloody likely.

"Could we please stop having some version of this argument every time someone makes a goal?" Al asked.

"No!" James and I both replied though our laughter.

Silly Al. This wasn't about how well anyone played. It was simply about having fun and winning bragging rights at the end of the afternoon. In three-on-three like this, there was no Golden Snitch to end the game; we just played until we felt like it.

"Okay, okay," Al held up his hands in surrender.

"And Potter takes possession of the Quaffle!" Fred said, resuming his commentary. "Tosses to Potter, who passes to Potter, who passes to Potter who – oi!"

James had thrown the Quaffle at Fred and pegged him in the stomach. Naturally, he hadn't thrown it hard. Just enough to catch Fred's attention.

"Commentate properly!" James grinned as he called out to his cousin.

"A foul is called on Team Potter for an unprovoked and vicious attack against the commentator!" Fred cried in mock outrage. "Minus twenty points for you!"

"That's not how it works!"

"Sure it is!"

"This isn't a regulation match!"

"Commentator makes the rules."

"Says who?"

"The commentator. Just now."

"Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes!" Mr. Potter called out from the back door. "So you might want to start deciding who won now."

"Fred, you were keeping track," Gareth said. "What's the point tally after Team Potter's deduction?"

"Er…" Fred looked uncomfortable. "Well, the thing is…I, ah, might have forgotten to keep score after about the first fifteen minutes."

"What?!" cried six people.

"Oh, this was just for fun anyway," Fred defended himself, his ears turning bright red.

"But-But bragging rights were on the line," I said, disappointed that I wouldn't be able to hold a Team Wood win over James. Or vice versa, really. Teasing each other was something we did; it was part of who we were as a couple.

"We all know both of you wanted win so you could argue about it, which would lead to flirting, which would lead to snogging," Fred said with a pointed look in our direction. "You can still do all that without knowing who officially won."

My face grew warm as our siblings started laughing good-naturedly. I mean, what Fred was saying was absolutely spot on. I did want to teasingly argue with James not only because I enjoyed it, but also because it usually led to snogging. But it was still a bit embarrassing to have everyone know that.

"Yeah, I reckon that's true enough," James acknowledged with a smirk.

I tried to shoot him a dirty look, but couldn't quite help the shy smile that crept onto my face.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

After dinner, the seven of us gathered around in the back garden to chat. The sun was setting, which bathed everything in warm, orange light.

"I still say we won," James shook his head against my argument that Team Wood had been the clear winner of the match.

Uh, no. This boy was obviously deluded.

"The rules were the first team with everyone on the ground was the winner," I protested. "That was clearly Team Wood!"

"No it wasn't," James replied just as vehemently. "Team Potter had everyone on the ground before Team Wood, fair and square."

"You call throwing yourself off your broom as fair and square? You didn't have both of your feet on the ground," I pointed out. Logic was clearly on my side. "All of us did, so that means we were on the ground first."

James merely smirked and said, "No one said anything about having feet on the ground. 'On the ground' were Fred's exact words."

"Okay, okay," Lily cut in. "I like winning as much as the next person, but let's talk about something else."

I supposed she had a fair point. This argument had been going for longer than I cared to admit. The others had been discussing something else entirely for the last several minutes. (But I would never concede that we had lost, because we clearly hadn't.)

"Well, I've met the girl of my dreams," Fred unexpectedly announced, his face breaking out into a wide grin.

Well, I hadn't been expecting that.

"What's she like?" Gareth asked the question I wasn't quite willing to. I wasn't entirely certain I wanted to find out. Fred had a penchant for fancying girls who couldn't stand him.

"It's Lyra Rinaldi."

"What?"

"Ugh, Fred!"

"What is wrong with you!?"

Lyra Rinaldi was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team and had been my biggest rival on the Hogwarts pitch.

I scrunched up my nose in distaste. "Fred, if you're not taking the mickey, I'm going to hex you."

Fred threw his hands up in the air. "All right, all right. It was a joke, everyone can calm down."

"Why would you ever joke about that?" James asked in a tone of utmost disgust.

"I just wanted to see the looks on your faces," Fred defended himself with a mischievous grin. "You lot looked like you'd been told that Quidditch had been banned forever."

Now that was a truly terrible thought.

"Her real name is Theia and she works at Fortesque's," Fred explained, referring to the ice cream parlor in Diagon Alley. "She has these enormous brown eyes and a great smile. She's funny and brilliant at comebacks."

"Does Theia have a last name?' Lily asked.

I frowned. What kind of a question was that?

He shrugged, but looked a bit uncomfortable. "Sure she does, doesn't everybody?"

"Do you know what it is?" Gareth asked.

Oh, now I understood.

Fred mumbled something unintelligible.

"Sorry?" Al asked.

"I said," Fred replied somewhat reluctantly, "I don't know. It isn't listed on her nametag."

Well, enough said right there. In all likelihood, this was another of Fred's ridiculous, unrequited crushes.

Al sighed heavily and James rolled his eyes. I felt like doing both.

"I've only talked with her once," Fred defended himself. "I'm still getting to know her. The least you lot could do is be supportive. This isn't Susannah all over again."

For Fred's sake, I certainly hoped not.

James held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. We'll be supportive."

"How about we leave poor Fred alone and talk about something else," Lily suggested kindly.

"How about Rose and Scorpius since they're not here to defend themselves?" Fred offered. "I don't think Eva and Richard have been caught up on the latest news."

"I have the feeling you're going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not," I retorted with a wry smile.

I mean, I was naturally a bit curious because I knew them both and liked Rose very much. I had also been witness to a lot of the drama surrounding the two of them. However, that didn't mean I needed to know their every movement.

"I've thrown my lot in with meddlers, so I suppose I have to accept my fate," I said, gently bumping James with my shoulder.

In response, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side. I tucked my feet under me and leaned against him. He smelled like fresh air and broomstick polish. It was a bit distracting.

James smirked as he looked down at me. "We'll convert you yet, love."

My heart skipped a beat at his term of endearment.

"Anyway," Lily cut across us, "Yesterday, she went to his home for dinner."

She paused, as if for dramatic effect. I glanced around, unsure. Er…was that supposed to be hugely significant?

"What of it?" I asked. "I'm here having dinner with you and no one is making a huge fuss over it."

At least, I hoped they weren't…

If James's parents were watching us from the house with omnioculars, I was going to fly off the handle. (Not to mention, I'd never be able to think of them the same way again.) But I highly, highly doubted that was the case.

"It's the first time anyone in the family has been to Malfoy Manor since the war," Al told me, his voice quiet.

Oh.

"Oh," I breathed and his meaning sank in fully. "That…that is significant."

Everyone around me nodded solemnly.

James continued the story. "Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron were a bit worried. I mean, they trust Rose and they're accepting of Scorpius, but…that place holds so many bad memories for our family."

I nodded. I could understand that. I wouldn't be eager for any of my loved ones to be visiting a place where I had been tortured, even if time had passed and things had changed.

"Rose being willing to go there, for Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron to let her – it really shows how much everything has changes since the end of the war," James finished.

A Malfoy and a Weasley…what was once seen as impossible was now suddenly possible.

"Rose said that the Manor wasn't what she expected," Al added. "It's been renovated so it's brighter and there are gardens. And just generally less…spooky."

Fred's facial expression suggested that he clearly doubted this.

"So has Scorpius come here for a family dinner?" I asked.

"No," Lily shook her head. "But he's going to. Soon."

"Nana Molly is planning a party for when I'm named to a team," James explained. "If it happens."

Everyone practically rolled their eyes at this statement. Of course James would be signed to a team. Coaches would have to be me stark raving mad not to want him.

"It'll happen," Fred said with a tone of assurance.

"Anyway," Lily continued, "Rose asked to bring Scorpius to the celebration dinner."

Wait, what?

"With so many people?" I questioned. "Won't that be, well, overwhelming?"

"I would think so," Fred said flatly.

Al shrugged. "Her idea is that you and Richard will be there too, and so will family friends like the Longbottoms and the Scamanders. With so many people around, there won't be time or opportunity for everyone to focus on Scorpius. I'm not sure he'll exactly blend in with the crowd, but he'll have a better chance at it with so many people there."

"That does make some sense," I acknowledged. "Rose would think of something like that."

Richard yawned and glanced at his slightly battered wristwatch (he insisted on wearing it while playing Quidditch and the poor thing had seen better days).

"We should push off," he commented. "Tomorrow is Eva's last training day before the Harpies tryout and we have a lot to do."

"You're so dedicated," Lily told Richard, beaming at him with pride. "You're going to be an amazing trainer someday."

Richard flushed a brilliant shade of red and everyone laughed lightly. I considered it only fair since he had joined in laughing at James and me earlier in the evening.

I uncurled myself from James's side and stood up, stretching as I did so.

"Good luck with your tryout," Al told me sincerely as he rose from his chair. "I'm sure you'll be ace, as always."

"Be brilliant, Eva Louise!" Fred said with a laugh.

"Yes, good luck," Lily chimed in and stepped forward to give me a hug.

The others got up and made their way towards the house, where Richard and I could use the fireplace in the sitting room to return home using the Floo Network.

I made to follow, but James grabbed my hand gently and held me back. I looked up at him with a questioning glance.

He smirked. "Can't I want to kiss my girlfriend without other people watching?"

"I suppose that would be acceptable," I replied with a slight smile and pushed up on my toes to kiss him.

I let my fingers play with the short hairs at the back of his neck as his lips moved smoothly over mine. Sighing contentedly, I leaned into him and he wrapped his arms more firmly around me. Apparently my t-shirt had ridden up slightly because James's fingers brushed over a small expanse of skin just at my waist. The contact made me shiver, but not in an unpleasant way. His fingers were warm against my skin and I didn't mind at all when he trailed his fingers back over that spot.

"Oi!" Richard's voice called out from the back door. "Are we leaving or not?"

I reluctantly pulled away from James. "I have to be up early tomorrow."

"I'm going to leave you here!" Richard called out again.

"Go ahead, then!" I yelled back. "I'll be there in just a minute."

I could have sworn that I heard him snort in disbelief.

I started to turn away, but James tugged on my hand and stopped me.

"Eva, there was actually something I wanted to tell you. I was going to wait, but…"

"Okay," I answered, a bit confused.

He ducked his head a bit so he was looking me directly in the face. There was excitement shining in his brown eyes. "I've had a tryout offer from the Grodzisk Goblins."

I stared at James, positively dumfounded. "The team Josef Wronski played for?"

"That's the one."

"James…" I started, unable to keep the shock out of my voice, "are you telling me that you're going to try out for a team in Poland?"

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Thank you for all of the lovely reviews, favorites, and story alerts! I appreciate everyone who reads my story and everyone who has let me know how much they enjoy it! And a special thanks to my beta, blue and gold, for the helpful suggestions and fabulous beta abilities.

Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Favorite quotes? I'd love to hear what you thought!

Next chapter: James and Eva discuss his tryout offer, Eva goes to her last tryout, and an important letter is delivered.