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The Quidditch Try-Outs


James got up before the crack of dawn and headed out to the Quidditch pitch with his broomstick, clad in his Gryffindor maroon and golds, and set to dragging out the trunk with the balls in them out to the pitch. He released the snitch and played about at chasing after it for some time to warm up his flying muscles and get some wind in his face. He caught the snitch several times over as he practiced - always feeling this deep sense of triumph when his fingers closed ‘round the little gold ball with its fluttering wings.

It was after breakfast time when James hear somebody clapping when he caught the little ball and he turned his broom about to see in the stands the teal hair of Maryrose Jenkins, sitting about halfway up, smiling and clapping her hands for him. He swept through the sky, holding onto the little ball in his fist, and hovered just above her. “Hullo Maryrose,” he said.

He was surprised to see her - for more than one reason. The very fact that Maryrose Jenkins was alive was enough to be surprising. It still surprised him to see her alive at all, and his heart would jump at the surprise of it - for the image he carried about of her was still the burned-in memory of her cold, pale bluish body that night, laying in the moonlight in the Shrieking Shack… Yet here she was, pink and teal haired and shiny-eyed, a great smile upon her face, and what looked like a bit of glitter beneath her eyes, a lovely shade of pink shadow dusting her cheek bone. He was surprised to see her, too, because of the way they’d broken up at the end of last term, a mutual understanding, a calm parting of the ways…

“You look chilled.” She held up a cup of coffee she’d just produced and he took it and sipped it, appreciating the warmth of it as it fell into his stomach and seemed to spread heat through his limbs.

He smiled, “Thanks.”

Maryrose smiled and watched as James drank, holding the mug with his palms, his thighs clenched about the broomstick to hold himself steady. “You were looking really good out there, James,” she said. “Very Captain-y.”

“I do what I can.”

She laughed, “And you do it well.”

“What are you doing out here, though? You know what the Gryffindors will say if they see you on the pitch, say you’re spying on us, trying to get information for your team.” He smirked.

Maryrose laughed, “Yes, I’m a great Hufflepuff Spy, am I?”

“That’s what they’d say,” he answered.

Maryrose stared up at him for a long moment, then said, with a shrug, “I just noticed you weren’t at breakfast and I figured you’d be down here and I knew it was cold out here. Sort of damp and gross. Don’t go making yourself sick. It wouldn’t do to be flying about while you’re ill.”

“Yeah, I might fall off my broomstick or something,” he murmured, thinking of the game from his own timeline, the game in which Jasper Odair had caught him from the sky… and his face clouded as the thought of Odair weighed upon him.

Far below, across the pitch, a herd of students were walking out onto the grass, carrying broomsticks from the locker rooms. “Well, here comes your new recruits!” Maryrose said, “I’ll go, I just wanted to bring you coffee and wish you good luck.”

“Thanks,” he replied. He handed her back the mug - the coffee gone, his hands, belly, and heart warmed by it. “I really appreciated that.”

She nodded. “Bye James.” She got up and hurried away.

James sighed and turned to the pitch, flying down to the ground and dismounting his broom, jogging across the grass to where the others were waiting for him. He looked them over. The usual suspects were there - Frank Longbottom and Alice Prewitt, Meg Johnston, Jackson Maw. The expected Sirius Black stood grinning at him from one side, a smirk trembling over his mouth. And there was Wally and poor little Ollie looking sick to his stomach. A smattering of third and fourth years, rounded out the group, including Mary Macdonald, and then, Alice shifted her weight and James saw her.

Lily Evans.

He stared.

“Gonna get this try out started or what, Potter?” Frank asked, smirking nearly as wide as Sirius was.

“Yeah. Yes… of course, yes. Let’s get started. Erm. Go on and warm up… fly some laps, let me see how you do… and… and we’ll go from, uh, from there,” James stammered, trying to keep his eyes away from Lily, and he clutched his broomstick and watched as the lot of them separated out and started taking to the sky.

Sirius brushed close to him, lips trembling with amusement, “Very smooth.”

“Shut up.”

Sirius snickered.

“What is she bloody doing here? She doesn’t want to play on this team! I’ve badgered her for years about coming back on the team!”

Sirius shrugged, “Perhaps she’s decided to get athletic.”

“Or else she’s planned it to torture me.”

“There’s always that option, too,” Sirius said, “Merlin knows the little wench loves to torture you.”

James looked up at the sky as the lot of them circled the pitch with their broomsticks, and Sirius clapped James on the back, “Alright. I better go fly. I hear I have to earn my place on the team, despite the fact that the captain’s one of my lovepets.”

“Get the hell away from me, Black,” James laughed, “Or I’ll tell Remus not to snog you.”

Sirius grinned, “He wouldn’t be able to resist me once I’m all sweat and needing a shower from all this exercise I’m about to partake in...” His eyes twinkled and he waved over James’s shoulders to where Remus and Peter were settling themselves down to spectate. “Moony does love showers.”

“Gods alive - get in the air before I have to blast my own brains out just to get the mental image out of my head!”

Sirius flew off laughing uproariously, blowing James a kiss as he kicked off the ground, and shot down the length of the pitch, joining in with the others flying laps around the crowded sky.

James stared up at the billowing cloak of Lily Evans, whose red hair hung in a braid over her shoulder, her hands clinging to her old broomstick with determination, weaving about through the others. He took a deep breath and climbed upon his broomstick and flew up to watch, darting about and checking out their broom handling skills.

The try-outs lasted hours. He had them take it in turns throwing the quaffle and making shots on each other, rotating Keepers and Chasers and playing a bit of dodge-the-bludgeon with them, checking for good beaters reactions and setting them as Seekers to chase after the golden snitch. He watched as Sirius drove his broomstick right into one of the stands trying to get the snitch and Wally only half-heartedly played, a sad look about his face as he tried to block the quaffle from the rings… And Lily Evans, scoring loads of points when it was her turn, only missing one of seven shots fired. Only James himself did better than she had done.

Finally, when he’d seen enough, he waved them all down to the grass and he cleared his throat, and he consulted the clipboard upon which he’d been making his notes and he said, “Alright. I’ve made my notes but I’ve got some thinking to do on it and I’ll post the team members first thing in the morning on the board in the common room. Thanks for coming out, everybody.” And he waved them off, watching as Lily Evans jogged away with them, back to the locker room.

Sirius walked over and threw his arm over James’s shoulders. James hugged the clipboard to his chest so Sirius couldn’t see his notes. “C’mon Prongs,” Sirius said, “Not even a lick of insider information for me? Me, your very favorite boyfriend?”

“You know,” James said, “One of these days, you’re going to say some rubbish like that and people are going to start believing you.”

Sirius smirked. “I look forward to the day when the world knows that you’re my cinnamon roll on the side.”

James guffawed.

“Now, let ol’ Padfoot see this for just a mo’...” Sirius reached for the clipboard.

James hit him with it and snorted at the surprised look on Sirius’s face. “Bad dog. No biscuit.”




None of the Gryffindors that had tried out seemed to be above bribery. Only Frank Longbottom - who had already been assured his spot ages ago - refrained. But James found himself being offered chocolates and licorice wands (which Sirius eagerly accepted in his name) and people were fighting over seats closest to him at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He grinned and laughed and told them all they were horrid for trying to buy their way onto the team. “Where’s your integrity?” he asked, but his ego was swelling from all the attention he was getting and his voice carried that old arrogant tone and Lily Evans stared down at her plate at the end of the table with the poor first years, who were frustrated because they didn’t get to be a part of the swarming excitement over the Quidditch try outs.

Edgar Odair was the quietest of all for he knew that if Jasper was there, he’d be over at the Hufflepuff table, experiencing a similar shower of adoration as James Potter was getting, and he kept stealing glances at the stoic faces of the Hufflepuffs - the only team whose try outs were postponed until their new Head of House - the woman with the wild grey hair and denim overalls at the staff table, Professor Sprout - had had a chance to officially name Jasper’s replacement as Captain of the team….




The next morning, James got up early after a long night of agonizing over his notes, and went down to the common room, clutching the parchment he’d written his appointments down on. Sirius followed after him, dragging a yawning Remus along, and they found that half the house was downstairs already, waiting.

“TEAM CAPTAIN COMING THROUGH!” Sirius said, still tugging Remus, who stumbled sleepily over his own two feet, waving people apart to allow James access to the board.

Feeling the eyes of everyone in the house upon him, James cleared your throat, “Now… just so you lot know… I think you all did brilliantly, and even if you didn’t make the team, I just want you to know that it’s not because you were bad, it’s because everyone was sooo bloody good! Every cut was an agony.”

“Just post the bloody thing already!” Frank cried.

“What do you care, Longbottom?” Sirius asked, “You already know you’re on the team.”

Frank smirked.

James turned and tacked the list up on the wall and hurried away before the fray of students descended upon the board. He stood back, leaning against the couch, his feet and arms crossed as he watched them all shuffle and hurry about, Sirius only spottable in the crowd because of Remus Lupin’s bed hair trailing behind him.

A few minutes into the scurrying, Lily Evans fought her way back out of the crowd before the board and came to a stop before James. He flushed and looked at his feet. She stared up at him. “After all the begging and the insistence -- for years I’ve listened to you whine and groan about me trying out for that bloody quidditch team -- and I finally do, and you… you cut me?” Lily demanded, her face flush.

“I told you lot that nobody was safe from being cut,” James said with a shrug as across the room Sirius finally found his name on the sheet and let out a yahoooo!!! “Sorry, Evans. I guess somebody played the game better than you did.”

Lily said, “But I did really good at try outs! I got seven out of eight goals on Jackson Maw - who I see you ended up naming your Keeper, which means he’s really good.” She stared at him, “You’re literally the only person that did better than I did at Chaser.”

James shrugged.

Lily shook her head.

“Don’t go being such a sore sport,” James directed. “It isn’t very becoming.” And he turned and walked away, joining Sirius by the stairs as he jumped and hauled a still yawning Remus back up to the dormitory.

Lily felt as though she’d been slapped quite violently across the face as the realization sunk in: for the first time in six years -- James Potter didn’t want her.