"Hello folks and welcome to the First Quidditch Game of the Season! This is Gryffindor versus Slytherin!" a shout of cheers greeted the two teams as they walked onto the pitch.

Lily watched as James entered the playing field. She frowned: perhaps it was just her imagination, but James looked slightly upset – preoccupied would be the optimum term. She leaned forwards slightly, wondering what was wrong with him, then leaned back, reminding herself that she did not care one whit if James was upset or otherwise.

Sirius, however, sat with a cold, blank face as the Gryffindor Team marched on. He almost smiled bitterly as he noticed the lack of James's normal egotistical strut. Watching silently as both teams took up their positions, he nevertheless felt a flicker of remorse at seeing James's slightly slumped shoulders. He squashed it, Stupid git deserves it, he thought to himself, the anger still thrumming through his veins.

They kicked off, Gryffindor quickly scoring the first four points, greeted by wild cheers and much commotion. Flags were waved and emotions were running high. The commentator was joyously shouting, "Gryffindor in possession, drat the Quaffle has changed hands. Slytherin in possession and their Chaser is pelting up the field. Oh! Nice interception from the Gryffindor Chasers. This is a good team for James Potter, the new Gryffindor Captain. He seems to be doing well. Oh, Gryffindor Scores again. Slytherin has the Quaffle. Slytherin Scores! Gryffindor still leads, score is forty to ten."

Everybody was watching the Chasers as they struggled for the Quaffle and to score. Suddenly, James was diving; the other team's Seeker hot on his tail, but a bludger swung in his direction made him veer offcourse. The crowd let out an 'Ohhh' of disappointment, and the opposite team's Beater swung another bludger at James, who had made a rude gesture at him, and he rolled over in the air to avoid it.

It seemed like every one on the Slytherin team was out to get James. He could barely move without anyone blocking him, it was in coordination with his mind; whenever he tried to think, Sirius's angry face would pop up. It was badly hindering his flying. But the Slytherins settled down after a while as Gryffindor's Chasers started to really pick up.

The game was moving along nicely, with Gryffindor in the lead by eighty points, when James saw the Snitch again. Slow off the mark, he still pelted across the field towards it; that tiny golden glimmer that shone so enticingly high in the air, waiting to be caught.

Wham! James nearly fell off his broom as the Slytherin Captain blocked him; the boy had appeared out of no where! James swerved sideways to avoid being knocked off and carried his broom straight into the oncoming bludger.

It shattered into pieces. James felt the significant lack of it as he began to fall, the wind rushing through his ears.

"James!" someone had shouted in pure anguish as James Potter plummeted to the ground.

Lily looked around her. Everyone seemed slightly shorter. Then she realised that she was standing up, and was the one who had screamed James's name. James. "Oh God!" she looked down to where James lay, unmoving.

A rushing shape flashed before her eyes. It was Sirius, moving at double speed. His face was tight and worried, taut as a skeleton. He pelted down the stairs, using his long legs to great advantage as Lily also ran after him.

She reached the field. Sirius had already flung himself to the ground beside James's mangled body. Lily took one look at him and retched.
James's face was bloodied; his glasses were smashed and had inflicted cuts across his face. One shard had pierced his cheek, and it was bleeding sluggishly. His shoulder was almost detached; it had taken almost all of his weight as he fell. Lily turned horrified eyes to his chest. One of his ribs was poking out the front of his chest and his hips were at a wrong angle. Lily dropped beside him, looking frantically into his half-open eyes. They were fixed. She screamed, "He's dead! James!" she went to grab him, to hold
him somehow, but hands caught her.

"Don't move him!" a sharp voice warned, "There is hope for him yet."

"He's dead!" Lily croaked, fighting against the hands.

"He is not." The hands turned her around, and into her vision came the steady face of Remus Lupin. "He's not dead, Lily. Not if you stop acting like a banshee and help."

Slowly, Lily took a staggered breath, "How can I help?"

"Get Madame Pomfrey, or make sure that she's on her way."

Having something to do calmed Lily a little. Filled with a new determination and purpose, she turned and dashed away to find the healer.

"And I," Remus said, turning back to James, "Will try to deal with Sirius."

Slowly, he approached his friend.

Sirius was huddled beside James's body, rocking slightly. Remus knelt slowly beside him, "Sirius?" he asked.

Sirius turned red-rimmed eyes towards his friend, "It's my fault, Moony. It's my fault," with a sudden display of alarming speed, Sirius grabbed Remus's collar, "I killed him Moony, it's because of me! It's my fault!"

"No, Sirius." Remus said gently, "He's not dead."

Sirius's voice was frantic, "But his eyes!"

"Calm down, Sirius."

"DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!"

"Now, now, Mister Black. Why so much fuss?" Madame Pomfrey had arrived, "All I have is a rather distraught Miss Evans with which to base my analysis. Who is injured, and why were they not brought to -" Remus moved out of the way, giving the Healer a clear look at James, "- me." She finished absently, kneeling down with worried eyes to take his pulse.

As soon as her fingers touched his skin, James started convulsing. His neck went back and his mouth dropped open, revealing shattered teeth. Then his body became rigid. Madame Pomfrey leapt to her feet, "Bring him immediately to the Hospital Wing!" she ordered.

Professor McGonagall conjured a stretcher. With another flick of her wand, she had made James float onto it. Lily ran after Madame Pomfrey, taking one backward glance to where James had lain. Her heart jumped to her mouth. There was a huge pool of blood. Now the worried expressions of Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall took on a horrible new, and dreadfully sinister, cast.

Lily sat quietly, but not peacefully. Her hands twisted in her lap worriedly and her eyes roved around the sterile room. She looked at the
curtains that hid James from her sight and wished them long gone. She bit her lip, taking in a deep breath and waited.

Madame Pomfrey opened the curtains slightly, just enough to let her out. Lily was shocked at her appearance; it was pale and drawn. Lily started up, taking the Healer by the hand and sitting her in the chair, "Is he okay?" she asked anxiously.

"He'll live." Madame Pomfrey said wearily, "He should have been sent to St Mungo's, but with his time couldn't afford it. I did the best I could." Tired eyes sought out Lily's, "He just needs rest." Standing, she brushed her skirts before walking towards the door, "And so do I."