Quidditch
Fifth year
Lily settled down among the throng of excited Gryffindors, wrapping her red scarf around her neck, her only defence against the chill of the November breeze. As the two teams flew out into the middle of the pitch, a great roar of support rose from the stands. She saw both red and green circle one another once, the tension palpable between them, then the captains reluctantly shook hands and the game began. She followed the quick, violent play with her green eyes, but they wandered after a while, when Slytherin was leading by ten points. She scanned the Slytherin crowd, searching for her best friend.
Severus was standing with his Slytherin friends, friends who Lily's friends had told her time and time again were… evil. They said Severus was, too, but she wouldn't believe them. They cared for blood status, but Severus had never called her a… a Mudblood, not like the others. His mouth opened to shout praise at one of the Slytherins who had scored another goal against Gryffindor. A collected moan of disappointment rose from around her, from all the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws.
Everyone hated the Slytherins.
She looked again at Severus, her best friend, and doubt bubbled up inside her. She cast it away quickly, loathing herself.
Lily turned back to the game as the commentator yelled, "And Pond scores another goal, bringing the score to 80-50 to Slytherin! C'mon, Gryffindor! Go on! GO ON! I'm not biased, Professor – no, not at all, I… well, I…" He sighed audibly, and said feebly, "Come on, Slytherin…" earning a jumble of laughs from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw.
Lily looked back at the Slytherins; each and every one of them were gloating at their lead, especially Severus. Lily felt suddenly loyal to Gryffindor, and called out, "Come on, Gryffindor!" joining in with all of the other shouts of encouragement around her.
She watched as the Slytherin Chaser, Pond, hurled the Quaffle, but James Potter, darting out of nowhere, intercepted it deftly, and, swerving past the Slytherins, scored an incredible goal.
"WELL DONE, JAMES!" roared the Gryffindors.
"Yes! YES! James Potter scores a great goal, bringing it up to 80-60!" yelled the commentator. "Potter is bringing the game back to his standard, showing his excellence once more! There's no doubt that James Potter is Gryffindor's best player, their best bet to win, which they are sure to… Oh, shut up, Prof- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Professor, didn't mean it – NO! Not ten points! Come on, Professor. You know you want Gryffindor to win, too! COME ON, GRYFFINDOR! YOU CAN EASILY BEAT THAT PACK OF SLIMY, CHEATING – YES! YES! ANOTHER PHENOMENAL GOAL FROM POTTER!"
She felt a hint of pride and pleasure, smiling. Moments later, she shook her head firmly. She hated James Potter; he was awful, arrogant, bigheaded… But she still watched, captivated, as James won back five more consecutive goals for Gryffindor, earning them fifty more points.
He really was a brilliant Quidditch player, she realised. On a broomstick, he was invincible.
Blackmore, another Slytherin Chaser, made for him with Pond at his side, their faces twisted in fury, but they couldn't touch him. He moved with precise coordination, arcing almost gracefully out of their way.
"PO-TTER, PO-TTER, PO-TTER…" Gryffindor were chanting for him, and Lily felt herself joining in, yet quietly, embarrassed that she was cheering for the boy she openly despised.
James sped past them, flying over the crowd of Gryffindors, the Quaffle in his grip, and Lily caught a glimpse of his grin, in which she saw a curl of arrogance and pride, mixed with confidence and pure, undiluted thrill. When he scored his next goal, she felt irritated with herself. He was the same James Potter she had always known, and here she was, cheering for him. He would never change, forever buoyed up by his Quidditch success and adoring peers.
She glanced upwards, looking back at the game. From across the pitch, James' eyes found hers, and she saw the arrogance in his grin fade. There was something there, a moment of mutual… was it curiosity? Lily felt her breath catch in her throat for an instant. The Quaffle soared through the air and the Quidditch game was suddenly back in motion once more, and all that was left of the electric feeling was an odd emptiness in the pit of Lily's stomach.