Notes: Yey reviews! You haven't all died of boredom yet! Sorry I haven't been here in forever. I moved into my dorm and I don't have a computer yet. Please stick with it!

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James was walking up to the school, from care of magical creatures, the next day. It was his first class Monday morning, which wasn't that bad because the professor had always liked him. He met John ((R/H oldest - I'll keep reminding you, don't worry)), who was coming out of herbology.

"How was it?" John asked him.

"As exciting as the first day ever is," James mumbled. "Is it May yet?"

"I hope not. When do you have your dad's class?"

"Wednsday. Same day as the try-outs."

"Are you still worried about those? Don't be. You'll make it."

"I'd better. My dad said something about a family record, whatever that's supposed to mean." The two of them jumped on the moving staircase.

"You mean, you don't know? He never told you?"

"Don't know what?"

John got off the stairs and turned to James. "Your dad was, and probably still is, the youngest seeker in Hogwarts history. They say he was recruited at his first flying lesson."

"That's impossible. How'd they do that if he didn't know how to fly yet?"

"I dunno, that's just the rumor. There's more. Come on," John changed directions and headed for the trophy room. James followed slowly, wondering if it were true but half hoping it wasn't. What would that mean for him if he didn't make the team?

The trophy room was huge. It had recently been expanded to fit more trophies. The back wall housed all quidditch cup winners and team records. "Look at this," John said "longest match: three weeks, four hours, and ten minutes. Who would want to be on a broom that long?"

James shrugged. He found the ones that had every winning team listed, with team pictures. "Longest winning streak: Gryffindor, 1993, 1995 - 2004. Wonder what happened in 94?"

"Dunno," John said. "Look." He pointed to the team lists. "Harry Potter - he's on 93, 95, and 96. Wait, how old is he?"

James thought about it for a second. "Fourty seven, I think." ((Please excuse my math if that's wrong.))

"So, he graduated in the spring of 98. Why wasn't he on the 97-98 team?"

"Maybe he switched schools," James said. "Or maybe he quit."

"I don't think he quit," John said. He pointed down. "Most snitch catches: 63. To Harry Potter. That's a lot of matches, and too good of a record to just quit. And there: fastest snitch catch, 35 seconds. To Harry Potter."

"That isn't a family record. It's his record." James said, quite amazed at all of this.

"Well, we're family, right? So maybe my mum or dad did something..." John scanned the walls. "Yep - Ron Weasley, 1995, 1996. Fourth best Gryffindor keeper ever. And your mum - Ginera Weasley, 1995, 1996, chaser and seeker."

James sighed. "This makes me feel a lot better about Wednsday..." Suddenly, he spotted something on the wall. "Woah, look." He pointed to another one that said James Potter, chaser.

"Must've been your granddad," John said. James nodded. "Whatever happened to them, your dad's parents? We've never seen them."

"They died, but he won't talk about it."

"He doesn't like to talk about things, does he?" James shook his head. "Well, I know someone I go to whenever I want information that I'm not supposed to have - my dad. He'll be coming next week, with the rest of the aurors."

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James clutched his broom and looked around him. The rest of the Gryffindor would-be team mates were standing in a large group. The captain, a short girl with brown hair, was weeding out the first years and non-Gryffindors. James really wished he were somewhere else... What am I doing here? I can't do this...

The members of the team from the last year were on a bench. His cousins were waiting to cheer him on, giving him thumbs-up and other such signs. James noticed that sitting next to John was a very pretty girl with short blond hair, highlighted red. She noticed him looking and smiled, that kind of smile that says 'good luck'. James smiled back.

"Okay, listen up," the captain was saying. "First we'll do the chasers and the keepers, then the beaters, so we don't hurt anyone, then the seekers. If you're one of those that wants to try out everywhere, go right ahead. We'll ask the ones we like to stay behind to see some more. Brooms ready!" James felt his heart racing, his stomach churning. Why did I ever think this was a good idea? "Keepers, please take the left goal and our chasers will be up to have some shooting practice. Chasers, to the right, and out keeper will be up to work with you."

James got on his broom and headed for the right goals. John came up to be their keeper, even though he was a reserve chaser last year. The captain was the keeper and needed to be watching everyone, not just the chasers. James saw the girl from before get on her broom and go over with the keepers. That means she's a chaser, if she's trying out the new keepers... He wanted to be a chaser now more than ever.

"One at a time," John was saying, "Take the quaffle and come at the goals. Try to score. Don't worry if you don't; it's the form that matters." James got in line and watched the others. He had a lot of good competition. Nearly everyone made the shot. I'm going to miss it, I know I will...

When it was almost his turn, he looked behind him at the keeper area. To his joy, they had already finished and were watching... the girl smiled at him again... Oh no... don't mess up while she's watching... Now I'm going to miss for sure... why does she have to be watching?...

Maybe I won't miss, he thought. Maybe I am good at this... yeah!... and just imagine what she'll think if I get it!... He took the quaffle and zoomed for the goals. He came closer, imagining the moment in his head, darted past John... and completely missed the shot.

James was humiliated, and could feel himself going red. John handed him back the quaffle, to take back to the next chaser. "Don't worry, mate. You just got a little too excited. Nice speed though, especially on a school broom."

James joined the rest of the chasers that already got a shot. He couldn't stand to look behind him, at the chasers. Even though he was in a group, he felt like there was some 'this-loser-missed-the-shot' spotlight on him. Good going, he told himself. You don't even know her name yet and look what you've done...

After a while, a long while, James got the courage to look behind him. The girl was floating with the other chasers. She smiled at him again and shrugged, as if to say 'well, you can't get them all'. He smiled back, feeling a little better.

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"The following people please stay behind, for a second try," the captain said, after everyone was done. James had thoroughly convinced himself that he wouldn't make it. He had missed... stupid... that's what you get for showing off. "Alecia Carwol, Mark Turnby, David Secinya, and James Potter." James felt his mouth drop. But... he had missed... how...? "The rest of you, there is a list posted over there for the reserve team. Almost all of you made it. You may go after you look. The four of you, step forward please."

They stepped. "No hiding it now, you four made it. But you'll need more practice. Alecia and David will be our new chasers, Mark our new beater, and James our seeker." James was confused. But... but... I didn't try out for seeker... "We start tommorow at 7 pm. Be there or you're off the team."

"Umm, excuse me?" James asked. "How did I get seeker? I didn't try out for that."

"Yes, but I think you'll do fine. You have good speed, and you can handle a broom well. The only difference is a smaller ball. See you all tomorrow."

James was still dumbfounded. How... had he...? John was congratulating him. "You did it! See, I told you you would!" James nodded. He spotted the girl with blond and red hair gathering her things. She smiled at him and then continued on her way. James smiled back and watched her walk away.

John gasped, and James looked over at him. He had a huge smile on his face. "What?" He smiled more. "What?"

"Katie. Her name is Katie. And it's not nice to stare."

Katie, James thought. I like that... "What year is she?"

"Fourth." John grabbed his things and whispered to James: "Gonna be hard to snag that one, though. She's one of those quiet, super smart people."

"Who said I wanted to 'snag' anything?"

"Girls don't have cooties anymore, James," John said. "It's okay to like them that way."