The next Saturday dawned bright and cold; the perfect weather for a Quidditch game. The promise of an exciting battle of brooms between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff houses was enough to rouse the student body from their beds early; thus, by nine o'clock in the morning, the corridors and Great Hall were crowded with chattering students. The third floor girl's bathroom, however, was quiet and still; its one occupant in the leftmost stall had no one to giggle with and so she was silent. Then, the door burst open and two more girls walked in. One was clothed head to toe in black and yellow; the other, a blonde, wore no particular colors but was sporting a large button on her equally large chest that alternated between a bright red message declaring her belief in "Potter Power" and a head shot of the man himself, winking and grinning for the camera. Both girls crossed to the sinks on the left-hand wall of the bathroom, set their purses on the ledge and began touching up their makeup.
"I can't believe you're actually going to wear that, Leslie" said Nancy Davis, glancing sideways at her blonde companion. "Where's your Hufflepuff loyalty?"
"I am being loyal," Leslie Olcott informed her. "To James."
Nancy eyed her skeptically in the mirror as she leaned forward to pat more foundation on her face.
"You really think you can get him to ask you out next Hogsmeade weekend?" she asked. "He's probably
planning to ask Evans out again. This is James Potter we're talking about."
"He is not!" Leslie informed her, tossing her head arrogantly. "Juliette Hughes told me last Thursday that she overheard Marlene McKinnon telling Mary MacDonald that James hasn't asked Evans out for months now."
"He hasn't?" Nancy said, her eyes growing wide as she accepted without question the veracity of this third-hand information.
Leslie shook her head, pulled a tube of lipstick from her purse and added a layer of ruby red to her lips as she said confidently, "Nuh uh. So it's obvious he has finally gotten over that obnoxious bint and is ready to move on to someone better for him." She pursed her lips and smiled vainly at her reflection in the mirror, adding, "Someone who appreciates him, who can really show him a good time."
"Someone like you?" Nancy asked, smiling.
"Duh!" Leslie exclaimed, turning her head this way and that to examine her reflection one last time.
Having decided that her makeup was sufficiently perfect to merit an entrance into the Great Hall, she replaced her
makeup bag in her purse and tugged on Nancy's elbow.
"C'mon. We have to get there before the teams head to the locker rooms," she urged. Nancy shrugged,
zipped up her own purse, and followed her friend out of the bathroom.
A few seconds passed, then the door of the last stall opened, and Lily Evans stepped out and peered cautiously around. Once she was certain the other girls had left, she walked over to the sinks and washed her hands. Though she remained silent, her thoughts were anything but calm. The past few minutes had unfolded much differently than she had expected. She had only planned to dash in and out of the loo and catch up with Mary and Marlene at the Gryffindor table. She had never though she would find herself hiding inside her stall and listening to two of her schoolmates toss her name about with such obvious dislike while they plotted about one of her friends.
So Leslie Olcott was gunning for James, was she? And she thought she actually had a chance with him? A derisive smirk twisted Lily's lips as she rinsed the soap from her hands, and a tiny spark of some white-hot, unpleasant emotion that she did not recognize flamed in her chest. There was absolutely no way that was happening. James would never want anything to do with a girl like Leslie, whom Lily privately considered to be catty and immature. He was much too good for her. Even more irksome were Leslie's comments about Lily herself. She had been sorely tempted to burst out of her stall upon hearing herself described as an "obnoxious bint" and had only just managed to reign in her temper. What right did Leslie have to call her such names anyway? Apparently the only 'crime' she'd ever committed was to refuse all of James' past attempts to get her to date him. She had always resented the unspoken but obvious opinion of the student body that she ought to give in to James' requests and go out with him. The fact that she was now his friend and no longer considered him an arrogant berk did not make Leslie's expression of this opinion any less infuriating.
Lily left the bathroom still in something of a tiff and hurried downstairs to the Great Hall to find Marlene and Mary. By the time she located them, waiting just outside the doors, her thoughts had returned to more pleasant subjects, and there was a smile on her face as she and her friends entered the Great Hall. Roughly half of the breakfasters were sporting scarlet and gold; the other half (rather, all of Slytherin and Hufflepuff houses) wore black and yellow. Lily, Mary and Marlene fit right into the crowd, as they had purposefully dressed in coordinating Gryffindor colors today: Lily in a gold sweater, Marlene in scarlet and Mary in stripes.
As the three girls walked down the aisle between tables, Lily scanned the Gryffindor table for James and his friends and found him seated in the middle of the table, munching away at what looked to be a sandwich of scrambled eggs and toast. Plopping down beside him, she grinned and asked, "Ready for the big game?" Marlene and Mary sat down beside her and smiled in greeting at all four boys.
James looked up from his sandwich and answered, "Oh, yeah, definitely. Weather couldn't be better."
Sirius, who, like James, was already dressed in his uniform, grinned across the table at Marlene. "Morning, McKinnon. Y'look festive."
She smiled and flushed lightly.
"Thanks. Just showing my Gryffindor pride is all."
James nodded appreciatively at the girls' show of team spirit, and gave an exaggerated sigh as he said, "I almost hate to give Hufflepuff such a beating.."
"'Almost' being the operative word," said Remus with a grin, earning himself a good-natured swat from James.
Lily eyed James skeptically, not at all fooled.
"Oh stop pretending to be noble," she told him as she began serving herself some breakfast.
Mary laughed, "Well I have no qualms. I hope you thrash them."
"Oh, we will," Sirius assured her. "Ladies, fear not. Your Gryffindor heroes will be in best form today."
"At least you ought to be, after all that conditioning..," James added rather sharply.
With a giggle, Lily swooned sideways against James shoulder and pretended to fan herself as she cried, "Oh! Be still my heart. Hail the soon-to-be-conquering heroes!"
He grinned down at her, praying fervently that she wouldn't hear the painfully loud thumping of his heart that
contact with her alluringly soft body was causing.
"Someone! Fetch the smelling salts!"
"See that you do," Marlene told Sirius, laughing at her friend's antics.
With a decidedly confused expression on his face, Peter offered James a salt shaker, but Lily sat up and slid the
shaker back in the blond boy's direction.
"Nevermind, Peter."
"Now, Red," said Sirius, leaning forward to look at her. "Say James does pull off this massive victory with a hundred-fifty point margin. You'll be there to honor the hero with a kiss, wont you?"
In response, Lily flushed beet red and found that she was suddenly unable to look James or Sirius in the eye. From
his seat beside Peter, Remus groaned internally, and was about to come to her rescue when Lily recovered herself.
"Kiss him yourself, Black, if you're so enamored of his Quidditch talents," she said, tilting her chin
haughtily and willing herself not to blush any darker.
Sirius laughed, "Ah! You've found me out!" Leaning towards to his best mate, he clasped his hands together and implored, "My big, strong Jamesie-wamesie! Hold me in your Quaffle-chucking arms!"
As the rest of the group burst into laughter, James shoved Sirius' shoulder, "Sod off, you shirt-lifter."
Sirius joined in the laughter and resumed inhaling his breakfast. Grinning and shaking his head, James turned to say something to Lily only to see Leslie Olcott walking towards them withÉ was that his face on the giant button she was wearing? His expression faltered and flickered between a grin and a grimace. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted Lily to witness this interaction.
For her part, Lily didn't really want to witness it either. As she caught sight of Leslie's approach, she frowned almost imperceptibly and muttered to Marlene, "Speaking of swooning fans..."
Marlene had no time to reply, for Leslie was striding down the aisle towards them, her chest out to emphasize the button she wore. She stopped just beside James and fluttered her lashes as she cooed at him, "Good luck out there today, Mr. Quidditch Captain." As she spoke, the button on her chest flashed from James' face to "Potter Power."
From their seat across the table, Sirius, Remus and Peter were pretending to be busy with their breakfasts and trying very hard not to burst into laughter. Lily, too, had suddenly become very interested in her food. Marlene and Mary were the only ones not pretending to be eating with such gusto. Marlene was studying Lily's reaction, and Mary was watching the exchange between the Quidditch Captain and his loyal fan. Now that the two Head students had become friends, both girls were more hopeful than ever that Lily and James would finally become a couple.
James blinked and hesitated for the briefest of moments before smiling easily. "Thanks, Leslie," he said. "I...er..." he fumbled a moment. "You're supporting Gryffindor?"
Leslie struck a pose with her hand on her hip and answered brightly, "But of course! I told you I would be. Can't root against Hogwarts' finest player, now can I?"
"Er.. well thanks, Leslie. I'll do my best to deliver a sound thrashing to your house," he said, forcing a smile to his lips and glancing uneasily down at her badge again. Where on earth she had found that particular photograph of him?
"I'm sure you will," the Hufflepuff simpered.
Poor James could think of nothing to say besides, "Er.. yeah." Although he was trying his best to keep his eyes at an appropriate level, his baser nature wanted to take advantage of the fact that, with him seated, Leslie's ample breasts were right at eye-level. From her seat beside him, Lily had noticed this too. She had also discovered that she wasn't happy about the current direction of his gaze. With the other girl's conversation in the loo still fresh in her mind, Lily very much wanted Leslie to buzz off. She was trying to decide whether or not to say anything when Sirius, who could evidently hold it in no longer, spoke up.
"Nice button, Olcott," he said, a smirk of barely concealed mocking twisting his lips. His comment caused Remus to look up and, seeing the image of his friend's winking face flashing at him from Leslie's chest, he promptly choked on his pumpkin juice.
Hearing Sirius address her, Leslie reluctantly withdrew her attention from her romantic target and smiled at the
other boy.
"Oh this thing? I got it from some second year Gryffindor in the library yesterday," she said, taking
advantage of her opportunity to draw further attention to herself by stroking a fingertip idly around the outer edge of
the button. As she'd planned, the males' eyes strayed naturally a few degrees southward of her face.
"Don't worry, Sirius," she told him, winking, "I'm pretty sure there are some with your name on
them too."
"Well that's.. that's something at least," said James, and he valiantly forced his attention to return to the breakfast in front of him.
Before the situation could become any more awkward, Remus came to rescue by asking, "Isn't it about time for you lot to head down to the Pitch, Prongs? I'm sure your team won't like it if you have to cut short one of your famous 'beat the piss out of them or else' speeches."
With lightening speed, James glanced at his watch and exclaimed, "Bollocks!" He turned his head and called down the table, "Team! Let's move it."
Lily quirked an eyebrow at him and teased, "Really? 'Beat the piss out of them?' That's the best you've got?"
As he stood, James grinned down at Lily, "Well I'd give a formal dissertation on the positive effects of an easy victory, but I've found that some good, old-fashioned crudeness goes a long way."
Shoving one last forkful of eggs into his mouth, Sirius rose as well and made a mock bow in Leslie's
direction.
"Well I, for one, am fully prepared to give your house, madame, the greatest beating of their lives," he
said, grinning with pleasure at his own pun.
"Oh Sirius! You're hilarious," Leslie tittered uneasily. By now, James was supposed to be plying her with effusive compliments or soliciting her companionship for the next Hogsmeade trip. Faced with the failure of her little plan, she was unsure what to do next.
Ignoring the blonde behind her, Lily turned to James and made an exaggerated shooing motion, "Run along then. Go wow them with your 'Potter Power'."
"Cheers, Lils," he grinned, then called down the table again, "Team! To the locker room!"
Lily was taken a back for the briefest of moments by the new nickname she had just received, but she recovered quickly, smiling and waving after James, Sirius and the rest of the team, "Bye!"
The only other person to have noticed James' last comment was Leslie, and she was none too happy about this development. It was with a bit of desperation then, that she called after him, "Bye, Jamesie!"
Her goodbye was loud enough for half the hall to hear, and James grimaced to Sirius, but he forced himself to politely turn back, fake a smile and wave at her.
Trying his best to smother his chuckle, Sirius muttered to James as they exited the Great Hall together, "Wow. You sure can pick 'em, Prongs."
James sighed. His hatred for silly nicknames was well-known among his circle of friends. Even his mum never called him "popkin," "Jamesie," or any variation thereof. Leslie was trying, however; he had to give her credit for that much. Blokes often complained about girls not being forward enough with their emotions. Where Leslie was concerned, this clearly was not the issue. Rather, it was getting her to rein in her enthusiasm that would prove to be problematic.
"I mean," he said over Sirius' snickers, about to defend the rather busty blonde, but found he had nothing to say. "Damn."
Sirius seemed to find this extremely funny, and dissolved fully into laughter. He clapped James on the shoulder, and
shoved open the heavy door to the Great Hall.
"Don't sweat it, mate," he said as the brightly overcast sky greeted them. "What do women matter
when there are Hufflepuffs to trounce?"
James couldn't help but be bolstered by this thought. While he might fall desperately and frustratingly short where womenfolk were concerned, Quidditch was something he was able to do, and do well. The first match of the season was always an auspicious event. According to his personal players' philosophy, the first match was crucial in setting the standard to be followed throughout the entirety of the season. They had to present a strong front from the get-go, so that the other teams would know Gryffindor as a force with which to be reckoned.
And Merlin, but this was a perfect day for it. A light breeze stirred James' longish and perpetually untidy black hair, but the overcast clouds seemed to have trapped heat from the warm days that had preceded the weekend. As James, Sirius, and the rest of the Gryffindor House Team trooped down to the locker rooms and Pitch, there was an electric sense of excitement that crackled above their heads. James fell silent as they began dressing out for the match. As boisterous as he might be during school hours, there was a different business to be conducted on a broomstick. Even Sirius, who was often unruly at practices and keen on getting a laugh, knew that the half-hour before Quidditch matches was a hallowed time. The lot of them gathered, gear in place, on the benches of the locker room for the first time of their last year together.
James sat still, facing his team, eyes bright and mouth closed. A hint of a smile flickered across his face.
"Well," he said after a long silence. "Welcome to the Quidditch season. This year is going to be big. Real big. This is my third year as your Captain, and I intend to maintain the same grade of excellence we've shown in the past. Though this is Hufflepuff-" he paused and looked tellingly at Sirius- "that's no reason to play any less well than you've been showing at training sessions. I've got high hopes for this match, and I think we've got the thing, as long as everyone keeps up the pace. Remember our formations, Chasers. O'Donnell, you've got this, as long as you make sure you don't drift between the goal hoops. Brumley-" he looked at the team's Seeker "-use this overcast to your advantage. And BeatersÉ well, you two just do your thing." A chuckle rolled through the locker room. James smiled. "But, really, you lot, lets please be focused. Hufflepuff isn't anything to laugh at. My first year, they completely flattened Gryffindor. The same could happen to us if we aren't careful. And goodness knows we'll all feel it if we lose. So get your arses out there and play like you mean it!"
The team trooped out onto the Quidditch Pitch, and James Potter's spirits rose with the sound of the roaring crowd. A wide grin spread across his face as he looked up into the crowd bedecked with red and gold. The opposing side, though with a smaller number of supporters, made a good showing of yellow and black. The team captains met in the middle, regulated by the referee and flying teacher, ex-League referee Hugh Swann. Swann squared his extremely broad shoulders, looking between James and the sandy-haired Hufflepuff captain as the two boys shook hands.
"Clean match, lads," Swann said, crossing his arms and scowling. "Play nice- or else."
With a broad grin, James headed back toward his team, broom in hand and determination in the set of his shoulders.
At the referee's whistle, James kicked off the ground and soared upward to snatch the Quaffle out of the air. With one hand on his broomstick and the other clasping the Quaffle tightly to his side, he bolted toward the Hufflepuff goal hoops while his other two Chasers, Mariel Bennett and Roger Plumley, flanked him in formation. One of Hufflepuff's chasers flew straight toward him. James ducked, dipping below the oncoming flier and swerved to the left-hand side of the Pitch. With a practiced arm, he chucked the Quaffle to Mariel, who caught it and immediately went in for a shot at the goal hoops. Dodging a bludger shot toward her by the Hufflepuff beater, Ammons, Mariel threw the Quaffle hard toward the center goal hoop. The Keeper lunged for it, barely brushing the Quaffle with the tips of his fingers. The bright red ball went through the hoop, and Gryffindor had their first goal. As a roar went up from the crowd, James chanced a look around for his friends. Someone's bright red hair caught his eye, right in the front row of the Gryffindor stands. A grin spread across his face, and he felt a new boost of adrenalin.
"Gryffindor scores!" cried the commentator, some fifth-year Ravenclaw boy James' couldn't place. "And that's Mariel Bennett with the first goal of the match. The score stands at Gryffindor, ten, and Hufflepuff, nil. And now it's Macready with the Quaffle..."
He whipped around and headed back toward the Gryffindor goalposts, the determination to play well reaffirmed. He caught sight of Sirius streaking past him, beater's club raised as he swung hard at a bludger that had been coursing toward Brumley. James pulled up, flipped around, and got ready for the affront against Hufflepuff.
The Hufflepuff chasers flew toward the Gryffindor goalposts. James watched, then decided to fly straight at the foremost chaser. A bludger streaked right in front of his broomstick, and he twisted away to avoid getting his broom handle smashed. The Hufflepuff chaser slipped past him, and he wheeled around to follow. He needn't have bothered, however, as Roger stripped the Quaffle from the Hufflepuff and threw it, hard, toward James. James caught it and began his solo attack on the Hufflepuff goals. The other Hufflepuff chasers were nowhere to be found. From his peripheral vision, he could see Brumley diving toward the ground. The match couldn't be over, could it? James tore his eyes away and flew forward, feinting toward the right in hopes of drawing the Keeper over to the far goalpost. It worked. The other two goals were left wide open. James took aim and threw hard, knowing before he heard the cheer from the stands that he had scored.
"And that's another ten for Gryffindor! A strong start and good showing from Gryffindor Captain, James Potter."
Within fifteen minutes, Gryffindor had managed to score six more times. Hufflepuff managed to scrape two goals, as well. One, the result of a penalty after Mariel got called for cobbing. The chaser that took the penalty threw the Quaffle so hard, James could scarcely see it as it passed from her hand through the goalpost. The second occurred when a lob from Roger to James was intercepted by the same chaser that had scored the penalty. James had never seen such a quick arm on a girl. He had no time to consider her arm, however, as his team's lead was not yet enough to ensure a victory, in case their seeker managed to catch the snitch.
Meanwhile, in the stands, Marlene, Mary, and Lily stood in the front row and cheered on their team as best they could. While she didn't know much about the sport, Lily had to admit there was something electric about watching the players fly around so swiftly on broomsticks. She had never been the best of fliers back in first year, when the entire incoming class had to learn. But she did like it. Her loyalty to Severus had always biased her against watching James work his particular best brand of magic. But things had changed. She was beginning to see that while James' arrogance in prior years was a bit excessive, it was not entirely unfounded. The boy had a gift, she had to admit. And he seldom failed to deliver a victory to Gryffindor House.
Despite Hufflepuff's best efforts and several well-aimed bludgers, Gryffindor pulled ahead by another eight goals. James was leading scoring by seven goals of his team's fourteen. The breeze strengthened into a full wind, and the sky darkened as the temperature dropped. James' hands were growing red and numb, despite the uniform all players sported. They needed to end the game, and soon, before Hufflepuff could catch the snitch.
No sooner had he thought it, he spotted Brumley in a dive. The snitch was flitting right in front of the Gryffindor stands. To distract the other players, James waved for the Quaffle. Mariel passed it, and James caught it, shooting as fast as he could toward the Hufflepuff goalposts. Dodging two bludgers and a Hufflepuff chaser deternined to knock him off-course, he chucked the Quaffle as hard as he could manage. The bright red ball soared through the Keeper's arms and into the goal. He had scarcely time to hear the cheers from his own goal when an extremely loud, many-voiced yell signaled to him a victory. A broad grin spread across his face and he shot toward Brumley, whose hand was raised in triumph, fingers gripping the snitch tightly as he whooped. The team sank to the ground as one, basking in the roar emanating from those in the stands. They had won! The first match of the term and Gryffindor had sealed a solid win.
The team showered and changed into their normal clothes, chattering brightly. James, even, had little to say in the way of criticism, other than some loose flying that needed to be corrected. Nevertheless, he gathered the team in the lockers to give them a brief talk before they met the rest of the student body.
"Great job," he said, once they had settled down. "You played like Gryffindors. But we mustn't let anything out there today get to our heads. This was only Hufflepuff. We've got Slytherin next, and the Ravenclaw team is rumored to be really, really good this year. So, again, you've done well. Party is tonight in the common room- don't overindulge, 'cos we will have training tomorrow!"
His words were met with a groan, but James was undeterred. "Now, get out of here," he said cheerily. "And I'll see you tonight!"
They were greeted outside the lockers by a group of students waiting to congratulate the victorious team. Leslie Olcott was at the forefront of the group, and beamed beatifically at James as he stepped outside. A stiff, cold wind fanned her straight blonde hair around her face as she hurried forward.
"Fantastic job, James!" she gushed. "I can't believe how well you play. Is it true you might get into the League? Oh, that would be so wonderful." James thanked her, grinned and walked alongside Leslie, shaking a few hands of people who wanted to congratulate him on the victory. He searched the gathering of students for one in particular, and felt the familiar buoyancy in his chest as he saw, at the back of the group, the bright red hair and glorious smile of Lily Evans. She waved at him, showing him the thumbs-up sign, and then turned to head up to the castle. He wanted so badly to chase after her and catch her up in his arms. But Leslie looped her arm through his and clung tightly to him.
"Ooh, James, I'm cold!" she said, huddling to him. James caught Sirius' gaze above Leslie's head and rolled his eyes. Sirius made a gagging motion, and the lot of them trooped up toward the castle, heads bent against the cold wind.
That night, the party in the Gryffindor common room was rambunctious, to say the least. Cases of butterbeer, which seemed to appear out of nowhere, were passed around. Spirits were high and James Potter was in the thick of it, as the conquering hero who had brought such a sound defeat to Hufflepuff House. Music was blasting, and a large Gryffindor banner was draped above the hearth. The few students who had not been at the match were now having it dramatically recounted for them, and all were in exceedingly good moods. This was certainly a good sign for the team's prospects. As the initial excitement began to ebb, James felt himself drawn toward the area where Lily and her girl friends were perched, sipping butterbeer and chatting gaily. He flopped down on the couch next to her, grinning all the while.
"Hey, you lot," he said to the three girls. "Thanks for supporting Gryffindor today- I could see you three easily from the air. That's a nice jumper, McKinnon," he added, and Marlene giggled a 'thanks'.
"You did really well!" Lily said, smiling broadly at James. Her green eyes sparkled, and James found himself in very serious danger of kissing the girl.
"Oh, yeah?" he said, bolstered. "Thanks for coming. I didn't think you were much of a Quidditch fan."
Lily shook her head. "I might not know much about it, but I definitely know that I like watching." She felt herself growing energized, glowing for some reason she couldn't precisely pin. While the beat of the music pulsed on around them, it felt to James as if the two of them were the only people in the room. Of course, his willful delusion was ridiculous. He was dragged away from the object of his affection by Sirius, who was pestering James to find out the location of his secret-stash of Firewhisky. James was quite sure Lily would not approve of alcohol at the party, and was able to convince Sirius that drunk, underage Hogwarts students were not ones they would want to deal with cleaning up after. Besides, the boys were perfectly capable of having their own celebration upstairs in the dormitories after everyone had gone to bed. Sirius was quick to agree, and the party began to wind down of its own accord, though not until after Professor McGonagall appeared to usher the remaining stragglers off to bed.
It was, indeed, a very good night.