Waiting for the girls to arrive, Remus had decided to get started on helping Peter with the Transfiguration work they had to do. He knew he would have to push the other boy, hard, to ensure they both did well on the tasks handed to them by McGonagall.
"I will try, Remus," Peter said, as Remus opened up the book and glanced to where Peter had got to in class. "I promise. I don't want you getting a bad mark because of me."
Remus smiled. "Just do your best, Peter. I'm sure we'll be fine."
When Lily and Alice did return, they sat around the fire, with William and Michael. Lily glanced up, gesturing for Remus and Peter to join them.
"I don't mind you studying with us, Pettigrew," Lily sighed, as the two boys sat down. "It's just Black and Potter I can't stand."
"They're not too bad," Michael said, glancing nervously at Remus. "And they are bright, too."
"Yeah, but neither seems too bothered about work," Alice cut in, frowning. "James does, at times, but..."
"Let's just get studying, shall we?" Remus glanced around at them, feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. "James and Sirius are practicing for the tryouts, anyway."
William scoffed. "Like they'll be able to get on the team. Second years hardly ever do."
"James is a good flyer." Peter frowned, fixing his gaze on William. "And Sirius, too. If they don't get on..."
"So, this is the book for this year, yeah?" Remus held the book in front of him. "Seems pretty standard, doesn't it?"
"The teachers usually compile the lists," William explained. "I guess, without a teacher, the others had to put it together. And they won't know what exactly we'll be taught, so..."
Remus nodded. "So how are we going to do this?"
"Well, I thought, just read over the first few pages," Lily muttered, "and if any of us get stuck on something, we ask each other. I'm sure there will be points where some of us know more than others." A light blush appeared on her cheeks, as she glanced at Michael.
"She means that we have a disadvantage, being Muggle-born." Michael fixed his eyes on Lily. "Though I don't know why you're worried – everyone knows you're one of the top in our year."
The others nodded in agreement, as the red blush on Lily's cheeks deepened. "Right, well, shall we get started on chapter one, then?"
X X X
The pitch was empty when James and Sirius arrived. James clutched his own broom in hand, while Sirius retrieved a school broom.
"My dad said I would only get a broom if I made the team," Sirius explained. "Said that at least then I could prove I was worth something." He rolled his eyes as both boys climbed onto their brooms and kicked off.
"Few laps around before we get the balls out?" James suggested, and Sirius nodded in agreement.
They moved to the goal posts, stationing themselves behind it. "Can you imagine if we made the team?" Sirius commented, as they lined up near one of the stands. "Playing against Slytherin – we'd have three quarters of the school cheering our names!"
A grin lit up James' face. "The admiration of all of them, too. We're good enough to do it, Sirius."
"Three laps, loser hands over three chocolate frogs?"
"You're on!"
The two set off, speeding around the pitch. It was soon apparent that James' broom gave him a slightly better edge. He flew just ahead of Sirius, whooping and laughing whenever the other boy came close to taking him over. Sirius bent low, chest right against the broom as he focused on catching up with his friend.
Inevitably, James was the first to complete the three laps.
Sirius came to a stop next to him, sweat dripping from his forehead as he glared at James.
"The broom's better," James panted, wiping sweat from his own face. "Forget about the frogs."
Sirius shrugged. "Nah – it wasn't just the broom. Come on, I'll act as Keeper."
James nodded, turning and diving towards the ground as Sirius hovered in front of the goals. After grabbing the quaffle, James began to fly back up.
He stopped, glancing to where Sirius waited.
A memory filled him, of coming out to the pitch and meeting Professor York there. The flying instructor had been encouraging, had helped James improve, helped James to focus.
"I'll get on the team," he whispered, before continuing his flight upwards. "I'll do it, sir, for you."
X X X
Panting and drenched in sweat, James and Sirius returned to the Common Room just in time to grab a quick shower, before they had to head to the dungeons with the rest of the Gryffindor first years for Potions.
"How'd studying go?" James asked, glancing at Remus.
Remus shrugged. "Yeah, it wasn't too bad," he muttered. The progress had been slow – on almost every page, at least one of the group found something they needed an explanation or clarification for. Most of the time it had been Peter, and Remus got the distinct impression from the others, mainly William, that they would have preferred the smaller boy not to have been there.
He worried that Peter had picked up on it, too. He had been quiet since they had left the Common Room, keeping his head bowed as they moved through the castle.
To an extent, it annoyed Remus.
He had seen the previous year that Peter wasn't stupid. The boy just needed encouragement, kindness and patience. He always got there in the end, and James, Sirius and Remus were all willing to help him. But James, in Transfiguration, had been right; Remus more often than not had a knack for getting information through to Peter in ways that the other two couldn't.
They slipped into the classroom.
The Gryffindors had Potions with the Slytherins, and like every other class, the houses split up. The Slytherins dominated one side of the room, while the Gryffindors took over the other.
This time, James offered to sit beside Peter, leaving Remus and Sirius to sit next to each other.
"I hate Potions," Sirius grumbled.
"Sorry to hear that, Mr Black," Professor Slughorn chuckled, as he came in from the door at the back of the classroom. As Gryffindors laughed, Sirius' face went a light shade of red. "Hopefully this year will change your mind."
He took his place at the front of the room, before turning to them. There was the distinct impression that Slughorn, much like a few of the other teachers, had aged more than he should have over the holidays. Flecks of grey were now evident in his hair, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
"Welcome to your first class of your second year," he began, a smile on his face. His eyes landed on James, before roaming towards Sirius. "I do hope, this year, you begin to take your studies more seriously than last. Though saying that, you are still some way off the most serious aspects of your education here. But don't get me wrong; that time will fly. Before you know it, you'll be approaching old age and looking back on your days here with fond memories." He paused, eyes taking in the faces of the students watching him. "I hope." For just the briefest second, just long enough for Remus to notice, his eyes landed on Snape.
Snape was, by far, the most skilled at Potions. The boy seemed to have a natural knack for it – almost all his work, the previous year, had received high praise from Slughorn.
So why, Remus wondered, had the last comment been directed at the Potions wonder-boy?
"With that in mind," Slughorn continued, clapping his hands together, "I would like to emphasise a certain point. All of you are smart enough to do this."
Peter scoffed.
"Even you, Mr Pettigrew. I saw evidence of it last year and I expect it to continue this year. And never," his gaze locked on Peter, "be afraid to ask for help. From either myself or your fellow students. You are here to learn and, after all, I am here to teach. Now, if you open your books to page fifty-two, you will see instructions for the first potion we will be working on this year."
The students did as they were told, and were soon set on the task. They clambered to the store cupboards, gathering ingredients and carrying them back to their tables, where they squashed beetles and cut up plants, throwing them into their cauldrons, all focused on the task at hand.
X X X
"You're quiet, Sirius."
The comment came from James at dinner time, while other students chatted happily and ate their food. They had been served a simple yet delicious meal, consisting of bread rolls and spaghetti bolognaise. All of them dished out large helpings onto their plates, eating happily.
Sirius forced himself to smile. "Just tired, that's all." He brushed away James' comment, returning to his food. James seemed to accept his answer, as he asked Remus what, exactly, had been covered in his little study meeting with Evans and the others.
He seemed particularly interested in who was in the group.
The conversation carried on, as Sirius picked at his food. He heard mention of Quidditch from Remus, before James dived into telling him about the practice. Glancing up the table, Sirius spotted a few of the current team.
They were a decent team, there was no doubt about it. But the captain had decided that none of them would get an automatic spot – none of their places were guaranteed. And Sirius knew it was more than likely that one of the places would go to James. The previous year he'd seen how natural flying was to James. Almost like he was part-bird.
The thought made Sirius smile.
But Sirius was different.
He was a decent flyer, he knew that much. But he wasn't a natural. Not like James. And at their age, it was the naturals who would get a place on the team.
Sirius would have to wait and hope that no new natural flyers joined Gryffindor in the next couple of years.
"Sirius?"
He looked up to see James studying him carefully. "Mate, are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," Sirius forced himself to say. "Yeah, I'm fine."
X X X
For the next few days, they put up with the introduction classes and explanations for what would be expected of them that year. They moved from classroom to classroom, teachers pushing on them the importance to focus, to work, to expand their minds.
By the end of the week, it was announced that Professor Flitwick, who had been filling in as temporary Head of Ravenclaw, would take over the role permanently. McGonagall, as the newest member of staff, was still only a temporary Head of Gryffindor.
The tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team took place on Thursday evening. After dinner – and the announcement about Flitwick – the hopefuls made their way to the pitch.
Students from every year except first left the castle, sticking to themselves or in groups of two. Conversation was quick, rushed, as a few friends and well-wishers made their way to watch the tryouts, to cheer on those friends who were trying for the team.
James spotted William and Michael slipping through the small crowd.
"Wolfe!" he called, giving the boy a quick nod when William saw him. "You coming to cheer us on?"
William scoffed. "As if, Potter. I'm trying out for the team."
"Good luck," Sirius chuckled. "You'll need it."
"Come on, be nice," James sighed, smiling at William. "All in the same boat, right?"
William rolled his eyes, dragging Michael onwards.
In the changing rooms, the atmosphere was tense. The current team changed at one end, eyeing the possible new recruits, while those not on the team stared wearily at each other, judging the competition. Soon, they moved out onto the pitch. Michael, Remus and Peter sat together in the stands, and the three waved, putting their thumbs up as William, James and Sirius walked out.
The captain, one of the beaters for the team called Gerard Floss, stood in the middle of the pitch, the box of balls beside him. His eyes locked on the group.
The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange and red glow over the pitch as Gerard opened his mouth to speak.
"Welcome to the Gryffindor Quidditch try-outs." He glanced up at the sky. "We'll set up some lights when it gets dark. For now, I want you to just listen. We had a good team, last year, but I believe there is always the potential for new talent to emerge." His eyes, with a sorry gaze, fell on the current team, still gathered together. "Which is why they will be trying out alongside the rest of you."
Gerard began to pace, moving back and forth in front of the group.
"If you get onto the team, you will be training at least two evenings a week, plus on the weekend, more in the approach to a match. You will be pushed, and you will need to keep healthy, keep fit. It is not easy. Anyone who doesn't think they can handle it should leave now." He stopped, turning to look at them. A smile crossed his face. "Good. Now, there's twenty of you trying out, plus those on the current team means twenty-five in all. Get on your brooms. Five laps around the pitch – last five are out."
They got onto their brooms, flying up and positioning themselves behind the goalposts. James glanced at Sirius. A sheen of sweat was already forming on his forehead.
"You'll be fine," James whispered.
Beside him, William scoffed.
Gerard flew up, hovering in the middle of the pitch. "Ready?" he called, raising a whistle to his lips. James glanced into the stands. Peter gave him a thumbs up. All around him were people who wanted to be on the team as much as he did, people who were willing to do whatever it took to get there.
He took a deep breath, as they all tightened their grips on their brooms.
The whistle blew, and they took off.