2010Fest ♥ FIC: Friendly Competition (Parts 1&2 of 3)
Title: Friendly Competition (Parts 1&2 of 3)
Author: gmariam
Rating: 3rd-5th years
Wordcount: 9705
Warnings: Strong language, mild violence
Summary: When the Halloween Hogsmeade weekend is canceled due to the war, James Potter proposes a flying race around the grounds as a way for the students to interact and keep up their spirits. He is surprised when Lily Evans not only enters, but plans on winning. A spirited wager is made, but the race turns darker than anyone imagined, with the outcome quite unexpected.
Prompt: 29. Broomstick
Beta(s): EquinoxChick
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to EQ for her wonderful comments and support!
Part One: On Your Mark...
"So, Prongs, how did your big idea go over?" asked Sirius. He was lounging across his bed with a Butterbeer and a foot-long essay on Confidence Potions. "Anyone buy into it?"
I grinned as I took off my robes and crashed on my own bed. I kicked off my shoes and put my hands behind my head. "They loved it," I replied, feeling a bit cocky myself. "Every one of them."
"Really?" asked Peter, glancing up from his Charms text with a surprised look on his face. "Even Lily?"
"Even Evans," I answered. "I thought for sure she'd shoot it down straight off, but everyone else was so interested, maybe she couldn't. Hand me a Butterbeer, will you, Padfoot?"
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "That doesn't sound like our normal Head Girl," he observed as he tossed a bottle across the room. "She doesn't usually hold back when it comes to putting a stop to your nefarious plans."
Remus walked in then. "Maybe it's because she's planning on entering the competition herself," he announced.
I sat up immediately, spilling Butterbeer all over my shirt. "You're joking," I sputtered as I grabbed my wand to clean up.
"I'm not," said Remus, sitting on his own four-poster. "She just told me."
Peter put down his book to join the conversation. "Why would she tell you?" he asked. "She must know you'd tell us."
Remus shrugged. "I don't know. She asked me to help her out a bit as well."
"What?" I exclaimed, throwing my feet over the side of the bed and staring at him. "You've got to be joking."
"I already told you I wasn't," Remus laughed. "Don't worry, I told her I couldn't. So she asked Jackson Robertson instead. He about fell over when she did."
"But…but…" I stammered, slightly stunned. Jackson Robertson? The Ravenclaw Seeker?
"I think what James is so eloquently trying to say," offered Sirius, "is why didn't she ask him to help her out? And of course the answer is…"
"She still can't stand him and his big head," answered Peter with a snort, returning to his work. I threw a pair of socks at him, but he batted them away with a blithely innocent look on his face.
"Point to Wormtail," Sirius crowed. "Bad luck, Prongs. But then, when you win, you can show her who's in charge."
It was Remus's turn to snort. "Who's in charge of what?" he asked.
"Their lack of a relationship, of course," Sirius replied.
"Not James," said Peter from behind his book.
"Oh, Evans is definitely in charge," nodded Sirius.
"She's not in charge of anything," I grumbled, starting to get irritated. They had been giving me a hard time about Lily Evans for years, and usually it didn't bother me. Tonight, however, it did. Sirius was right: why hadn't she asked me to help her?
"Except there's nothing really to be in charge of, is there?" Remus asked, pretending to be thoughtful.
"Sure there is," said Sirius, putting down his essay and warming up to the subject. "She's in charge of eye-rolling, name-calling, and constant, never-ending rejections."
"Will you three knock it off?" I asked, pulling my shoes back on.
"Still a sore spot," murmured Sirius, returning to his work with a smirk.
"Wendy Foster," I replied, feeling juvenile. Sirius pulled a hurt face, pretending to be hit in the heart at the mention of the Ravenclaw who had dumped him the previous year. Then he fell back laughing.
I grabbed my Invisibility Cloak, unsure whether I would need it, but wanting it just in case. "My idea, my race," I snapped. "And neither you, you, or you," I pointed at each one of my friends to punctuate my words, "or Jackson Robertson will stop me from winning now."
I left them howling with laughter behind me as I stomped down the stairs back to the empty common room. The prefects' meeting had run late and everyone had already gone to their dormitories by the time we had returned. I threw myself into a chair and glowered into the fire, alone with my thoughts.
My great idea had turned on me. With the Hogsmeade trip for Halloween cancelled due to recent Death Eater activity in the area, I had proposed another way for Hogwarts to interact, celebrate, and keep its spirits up: a flying race across the grounds. It was for the prefects and Heads only, although if it was successful, I was hoping we could open it to all students for a spring race.
The Headmaster had approved, pleased to have found an activity that would keep the students on the grounds and safe. It would be an obstacle course around the castle. Madam Hooch had agreed to design the course so that it was challenging for both novice and experienced flyers, giving everyone a chance to fly fast, fly carefully, and fly competitively.
The prefects had enthusiastically embraced the idea. Though they weren't all flyers, only a few opted out, preferring to do other things for the race instead. I had thought for sure that Lily Evans would want to be a race monitor, given how much she liked to be in control, but she had only smiled and shrugged when I had asked.
Apparently, she had approached Remus to help her after I had returned to the dormitory. Good friend that he was, he had declined. So then she had gone to Jackson Robertson, Ravenclaw Extraordinaire. Seventh-year Seeker, prefect, and pretty boy whom the girls all swooned over. The thought made my stomach turn.
Why hadn't she asked me? We still might not get along all the time, but I was far and away a better flyer than either Remus or even that prat Robertson. I’d been on the Quidditch team six years running, for Merlin's sake! I could certainly help her train better than just about anyone except Hooch herself.
As I sat there staring into the fire, I heard the portrait hole open behind me. I glanced around, but did not see anyone, and turned back to the fire with a grumble. I heard a crash and a squeal, and suddenly Lily Evans appeared, eyes wide as she stumbled into a chair and tried to make her way unnoticed to the girls' dormitory.
"Oi, Evans!" I called, jumping up to startle her some more. "What are you doing sneaking around after hours? The meeting ended an hour ago and curfew is past. You're not trying out that Disillusionment Charm we learned, are you?"
Lily sputtered; I frequently got that reaction from her. "What are you doing down here?" she finally demanded instead.
"Not sneaking around," I replied archly, hiding the Cloak in my robes. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Neither was I," she said, sounding a bit defensive. She also held something behind her back. I grinned and snatched it before she had a chance to react.
"Ah, a little bit of bedtime reading," I remarked, flipping though the book. It was a deadly dull tome on broomsticks and flying; I could have given her any other number of more interesting books and magazines. "So you really are going to try it?"
"I am," she replied, somewhat defiantly as she tried to grab the book back. I held it up, pretending to read the chapter on braking charms. "Do you have a problem with that, Potter?"
I shrugged. "No, no problem. Just don't cry when I leave you in my tailwind."
Lily snorted. "I'll be too far ahead to even worry about your back end."
"I didn't think you liked flying," I remarked, tossing the book back to her and ignoring her smart remark. She caught it deftly. "Might mess up your hair or something."
"That's true," she said, a look of exaggerated horror on her face. "Then I might look like you." She ran her hand through her hair, mimicking my own nervous habit.
"It's an improvement," I replied as blandly as I could, even though she was starting to push my buttons now. We'd been working together as Head Boy and Head Girl for almost two months, and though things had settled down between us compared to years past, we still had a good row now and then. I felt one coming on.
"I can win," she replied.
"You'll need a lot of practice," I observed.
"I will."
"And a better tutor."
"Why?" She didn't even seem surprised that I knew about her deal with Robertson.
"You know I'm the better flier, Evans. Why ask Robertson?"
"Because he'll actually teach me," she replied. "Not just show off."
Did she really think that's what I did all the time? "Well," I shrugged, "just don't fall off your broom when he starts groping you."
"What do you care if he gropes me?" she asked. "Or if I fall off?"
I tried not to grin as I ticked off the reasons on my hand. "One: he's a git and the groping would be revolting. Two: I don't want to rescue you when you fall off your broom. Three-"
She interrupted me, rolling her eyes. "No one is going to grope me, and I'm not going to fall off my broom. I'm going to win."
"Keep dreaming, Evans."
"You wish, Potter."
Part Two: Get Set…
"Hey, toe-rag!" I heard the voice and recognized the tone-not to mention her favorite insult-before I even saw her. I stopped in mid-swoop, hanging above the Quidditch pitch on my Nimbus 1001 as Lily Evans soared up on her Cleansweep and gave me a smirk, her green eyes flashing mischievously.
Merlin, I loved--yet hated-that look.
"Looking a bit sluggish," she observed, obviously trying to rattle me. "I think your big head is definitely slowing you down."
"'Morning, Evans," I replied as blandly as I could after a greeting like that. "You know you've been using that insult for almost three years now. Can't you find something more original?"
"I'm just pointing out the truth," she threw back.
"My Quidditch record and upcoming win in the race next weekend should finally prove it wrong, then."
"Not if I can help it," she grinned. "I've got a tutor, remember?"
I looked down and saw Jackson Robertson below us. He was talking with the sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect. She had long, blond hair and giggled a lot. I sighed: she was my trainee, and although it was going to be a challenge shaping her up, I couldn't wait to see the look on Evans's face.
"Mr. Jackson, yes," I replied. "Didn't I hit him with a Quaffle last match?"
"I think you were aiming for the hoop," Lily replied. She glanced down and frowned. "Who is he talking to?"
"What, worried your sessions won't be one-on-one?" I teased, raising my eyebrows suggestively.
"That's Carin O'Connell," Lily continued, completely ignoring my remark. "What's she doing out here? I don't think she's been on a broom since first year. She fell off and broke a nail."
Oh, I couldn't wait to see the look on her face now.
Robertson and O'Connell flew up to meet us. O'Connell was a bit unsteady, and I wondered what I was getting into by agreeing to tutor her in flying. I wondered why she was even participating in a flying competition. On the other hand, the Ravenclaw git was a strong flyer, and he was fast, as well. It was possible he might be the toughest competition in the race.
As they joined us mid-air, Robertson actually had the nerve to give Lily a peck on the cheek, as if tutoring her suddenly made him her boyfriend. She blushed and looked away. I tried not to let my jaw drop, since she would have smacked me if I had tried something like that. Hoping to recover, I went for biting sarcasm.
"So that's what you two are really pairing up for," I smirked. Lily's eyes went wide, and she shook her head, obviously mortified.
Robertson put his arm around her waist, and I actually saw her shift her broom, trying to move away from him. Now it was all I could do to keep from laughing. She had asked the guy for flying lessons, and the jerk had assumed she wanted more. I could hardly stand the irony of it.
"I'm as shocked as you, Potter," he grinned, and he actually winked at me. O'Connell giggled mindlessly next to me; I wanted to retch.
"I doubt that, Robertson," I murmured, still fascinated by Lily's reaction. She was positively flaming red. It looked horrid with her hair, although it made her green eyes stand out even more.
"Jackson's just going to take me around the grounds a bit this morning," Lily stated, finally collecting herself and swerving off on her broom. "Get me up to speed with my technique."
"Oh, James is doing the same for me!" twittered O'Connell. She flipped her long, blond hair out of her face, almost losing her balance and falling off her broom. At least Lily had remembered to pull her hair back and wear decent flying clothes; O'Connell would be pushing hair out of her face all morning, if she lasted that long in her flimsy-but fashionable- skirt and top.
The look on Lily's face was worth a hundred Galleons. She appeared stunned, furious, and-dare I say it-jealous all at the same time. I will remember that face forever. I grinned at her, and I swear she growled back.
Robertson was not quite so thick as O'Connell. He watched us suspiciously as we glared at each other above the pitch. "Right, then-good luck to you two," he said abruptly, taking Lily's hand. It jolted her out of the staring match we couldn't seem to escape.
"Yes, good luck, Potter," she gritted out. And then she did that crazy thing that girls can do, which is she did a complete one-eighty and smiled sweetly at O'Connell. "You too, dear. You'll need it with him."
Well, sweet with a touch of sour thrown in.
O'Connell laughed, oblivious to anything that had just passed between the three of us. It made me cringe again, and I blamed Evans. O'Connell had only asked for my help because Lily had set the precedent and lined up her own private lessons. I had only agreed because I wanted to get back at Lily. At least she seemed bothered, even if I had to put up with a stream of mind-numbing nonsense for the morning.
Robertson took Lily off toward the black lake, while I stayed by the pitch with O'Connell. She would certainly drown herself if we started out by the water. We weren't the only ones out to practice, for more and more prefects turned up to get some flying time in before the following weekend. As I tried my best to coach O'Connell-and I did, because I had a reputation to protect, after all-I sized up the competition.
There were some good Slytherins, some exceptional Ravenclaws, and a terrific sixth-year Hufflepuff that should have been on their Quidditch team. The Gryffindor prefects were decent as well; Remus was faster than I remembered, and Ryan Sloper, the sixth-year prefect and our back-up Beater, had improved tremendously over the past few months.
I tried not to watch Lily too much, but I couldn't help it: she was far better than I had thought. I remembered our beginning flying lessons as first-years, and how awkward she had been back then. Apparently, she had warmed up to flying over six years, and I had never noticed. She was steady, confident, and fairly quick. I wondered, though, if that was because she was trying to stay away from Robertson and his wandering hands.
About mid-morning, we had a bit of a run-in with Dante Avery, the seventh-year Slytherin prefect. He hung around with Severus Snape and a crowd of dirty Slytherins who were getting more and more out of control. He was a disrespectful tosspot as far as I was concerned, and he thought about as highly of me as I did of him.
We’d never got along, and this year was no exception as he became more and more vocal about where his loyalties lay when it came to purebloods and Muggle-borns. As far as he was concerned, my family was rubbish for not joining Voldemort’s side in the war, and I was even worse for associating with Sirius Black, the biggest blood traitor at Hogwarts. Avery and his cronies were constantly picking on Muggle-borns and anyone who supported them, and it was only a matter of time before their cruel taunts went too far.
Avery was large for a flyer, but he was uncannily quick and agile. He was also ruthless on the Quidditch pitch, and I suspected the same would go for the race as well. I did not, however, anticipate him antagonizing us during practice. He deliberately cut off O’Connell, sending her into a deep dive; she barely managed to avoid crashing headfirst into the ground, but stumbled to her knees and ripped her skirt instead.
“Watch, it, Avery!” I shouted as I helped her back up and even repaired her skirt. “You’ll get someone hurt!”
“Watch yourself, Potter. You’re going down next weekend, you know. You and all your Muggle-loving friends.” He sneered at O’Connell; I had forgotten that her mother was Muggle-born. As usual, my blood started to boil whenever someone went on about pureblood prejudice, and I wanted to hex him. My Head Boy badge had come with responsibility, however, so I ignored my first impulse and docked him five points instead for unsportsmanlike behavior. It felt ridiculous, but it was all I could do.
Avery narrowed his eyes at me, and I stared him down, silently daring him to start something. He veered off to resume practicing with the other Slytherins instead, throwing one last threatening look over his shoulder. O’Connell was shaken, but thanked me profusely by throwing her arms around my neck. I hardly heard her, distracted as I wondered how the ugly scene would play out at the race.
As the morning came to a close, O'Connell and I settled back to the Quidditch pitch. Everyone was starting to clean up and head inside for lunch. Unfortunately, my trainee tripped on her landing and went stumbling right into Jackson Robertson, ripping her skirt again. Their brooms went spinning away as they landed in an undignified heap in front of Evans, who looked up in shock at me before bursting into gales of laughter. I couldn't help but join her, even though I knew it was rude.
Jackson helped O'Connell up before I got there. He apologized profusely, even though she had crashed into him. O'Connell was obviously embarrassed and glared at Lily as if it were her fault. Lily coughed and stopped laughing.
"Sorry," she said, still grinning slightly. "Here, I'll get your brooms. You guys go on ahead."
Jackson and O'Connell began walking back toward the castle, Robertson still apologizing and even brushing dirt from O'Connell's back. I lagged behind, hoping to get in a dig or two with Evans. She started before I could even open my mouth.
"Brilliant catch, Potter," she murmured, picking up Robertson's Nimbus and tossing me O'Connell's school broom. "A wonder she knew which way was up."
"Ah, but she loves it when I show off," I shot back. It was shamelessly true: O'Connell had clapped and applauded all my tricks, although I had to admit it all felt a bit empty and trite.
"She'd clap for a monkey jumping rope," Lily replied, rolling her eyes. I made a monkey sound and to my astonishment, she laughed.
"Whoa, watch yourself, Evans," I said. "You just laughed at something I said. I might get a big head."
Her sideways glance was both scathing and amused.
"Too late. So what happened with Avery?”
I frowned and looked away to where he laughing with Teresa Davis, the other seventh-year prefect from Slytherin. “Just the usual sneering, snarling, and going on about Muggles. I docked him five points for cutting off O’Connell.”
“I’m impressed you didn’t jinx him,” Lily said.
“So am I,” I replied.
“Do you think he’ll cause trouble next week?” she asked curiously.
“Of course,” I said. “I think they all will. Watch out. They’ll be after you, too, you know.”
Lily shrugged “Thanks, but I'm getting used to it. So how did Carin fly? Think she'll do okay?" she asked, changing the subject. I knew that being a Muggle-born was a sensitive issue for her, but I had to warn her. I had a bad feeling about Avery.
"No," I replied. "Her hair will get in the way and she'll end up in Hogsmeade somewhere. She'd be better off waving a starting flag."
Lily laughed again, and I smiled, strangely pleased to have made her laugh not once, but twice.
"I hope mine falls into the lake," she whispered, leaning closer. "He's like a squid anyway, constantly grasping at things he shouldn't be grasping at."
I laughed and whispered back. "I did warn you. Want me to hex him for you?"
She almost seemed to think about it. "No," she said wistfully. "At least, not yet. I'd rather do it myself, anyway."
"Let me know when you do," I said. "Having been on the receiving end of your wand more times that I can count, I'd like to see some other bloke go down for once."
She grinned, and for one of the first times all year we were simply two people enjoying a laugh, and not two people dueling it out in the common room for show. It felt natural, and I didn't want it to end. As we continued toward the castle, we talked more about the race the following weekend and how we thought the competition would turn out. I even found myself giving her tips on her flying.
Unfortunately, we caught up to Robertson and O'Connell, and it all evaporated as Robertson took Lily's hand and nodded rather curtly to me before pulling her away. She threw me an exasperated look over her shoulder, and I couldn't help but shake my head. I almost felt bad for her.
O'Connell watched them leave before she turned back toward me with a coy smile. "Thanks for the flying lesson, James," she practically purred. "You're great on a broom. I hope we can do it again sometime."
I stammered something about having Head Boy duties all week, but she just smiled again. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. "Maybe after the race, then," she suggested softly. She batted her eyes at me a bit before leaving for the Great Hall. I just stood there, slightly stunned, wondering what I had got myself into with her.
When I finally started moving again, I caught Lily staring at me from the entrance to the Great Hall. She was still with Robertson, and she was frowning. I couldn't tell if she was sick of him, or if she was upset with me. I looked away with a sigh, wanting more than anything to try flying with her instead. I'd take her insults over O'Connell's flattery any day.
Please click here for the conclusion (part 3).
Author: gmariam
Rating: 3rd-5th years
Wordcount: 9705
Warnings: Strong language, mild violence
Summary: When the Halloween Hogsmeade weekend is canceled due to the war, James Potter proposes a flying race around the grounds as a way for the students to interact and keep up their spirits. He is surprised when Lily Evans not only enters, but plans on winning. A spirited wager is made, but the race turns darker than anyone imagined, with the outcome quite unexpected.
Prompt: 29. Broomstick
Beta(s): EquinoxChick
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to EQ for her wonderful comments and support!
Part One: On Your Mark...
"So, Prongs, how did your big idea go over?" asked Sirius. He was lounging across his bed with a Butterbeer and a foot-long essay on Confidence Potions. "Anyone buy into it?"
I grinned as I took off my robes and crashed on my own bed. I kicked off my shoes and put my hands behind my head. "They loved it," I replied, feeling a bit cocky myself. "Every one of them."
"Really?" asked Peter, glancing up from his Charms text with a surprised look on his face. "Even Lily?"
"Even Evans," I answered. "I thought for sure she'd shoot it down straight off, but everyone else was so interested, maybe she couldn't. Hand me a Butterbeer, will you, Padfoot?"
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "That doesn't sound like our normal Head Girl," he observed as he tossed a bottle across the room. "She doesn't usually hold back when it comes to putting a stop to your nefarious plans."
Remus walked in then. "Maybe it's because she's planning on entering the competition herself," he announced.
I sat up immediately, spilling Butterbeer all over my shirt. "You're joking," I sputtered as I grabbed my wand to clean up.
"I'm not," said Remus, sitting on his own four-poster. "She just told me."
Peter put down his book to join the conversation. "Why would she tell you?" he asked. "She must know you'd tell us."
Remus shrugged. "I don't know. She asked me to help her out a bit as well."
"What?" I exclaimed, throwing my feet over the side of the bed and staring at him. "You've got to be joking."
"I already told you I wasn't," Remus laughed. "Don't worry, I told her I couldn't. So she asked Jackson Robertson instead. He about fell over when she did."
"But…but…" I stammered, slightly stunned. Jackson Robertson? The Ravenclaw Seeker?
"I think what James is so eloquently trying to say," offered Sirius, "is why didn't she ask him to help her out? And of course the answer is…"
"She still can't stand him and his big head," answered Peter with a snort, returning to his work. I threw a pair of socks at him, but he batted them away with a blithely innocent look on his face.
"Point to Wormtail," Sirius crowed. "Bad luck, Prongs. But then, when you win, you can show her who's in charge."
It was Remus's turn to snort. "Who's in charge of what?" he asked.
"Their lack of a relationship, of course," Sirius replied.
"Not James," said Peter from behind his book.
"Oh, Evans is definitely in charge," nodded Sirius.
"She's not in charge of anything," I grumbled, starting to get irritated. They had been giving me a hard time about Lily Evans for years, and usually it didn't bother me. Tonight, however, it did. Sirius was right: why hadn't she asked me to help her?
"Except there's nothing really to be in charge of, is there?" Remus asked, pretending to be thoughtful.
"Sure there is," said Sirius, putting down his essay and warming up to the subject. "She's in charge of eye-rolling, name-calling, and constant, never-ending rejections."
"Will you three knock it off?" I asked, pulling my shoes back on.
"Still a sore spot," murmured Sirius, returning to his work with a smirk.
"Wendy Foster," I replied, feeling juvenile. Sirius pulled a hurt face, pretending to be hit in the heart at the mention of the Ravenclaw who had dumped him the previous year. Then he fell back laughing.
I grabbed my Invisibility Cloak, unsure whether I would need it, but wanting it just in case. "My idea, my race," I snapped. "And neither you, you, or you," I pointed at each one of my friends to punctuate my words, "or Jackson Robertson will stop me from winning now."
I left them howling with laughter behind me as I stomped down the stairs back to the empty common room. The prefects' meeting had run late and everyone had already gone to their dormitories by the time we had returned. I threw myself into a chair and glowered into the fire, alone with my thoughts.
My great idea had turned on me. With the Hogsmeade trip for Halloween cancelled due to recent Death Eater activity in the area, I had proposed another way for Hogwarts to interact, celebrate, and keep its spirits up: a flying race across the grounds. It was for the prefects and Heads only, although if it was successful, I was hoping we could open it to all students for a spring race.
The Headmaster had approved, pleased to have found an activity that would keep the students on the grounds and safe. It would be an obstacle course around the castle. Madam Hooch had agreed to design the course so that it was challenging for both novice and experienced flyers, giving everyone a chance to fly fast, fly carefully, and fly competitively.
The prefects had enthusiastically embraced the idea. Though they weren't all flyers, only a few opted out, preferring to do other things for the race instead. I had thought for sure that Lily Evans would want to be a race monitor, given how much she liked to be in control, but she had only smiled and shrugged when I had asked.
Apparently, she had approached Remus to help her after I had returned to the dormitory. Good friend that he was, he had declined. So then she had gone to Jackson Robertson, Ravenclaw Extraordinaire. Seventh-year Seeker, prefect, and pretty boy whom the girls all swooned over. The thought made my stomach turn.
Why hadn't she asked me? We still might not get along all the time, but I was far and away a better flyer than either Remus or even that prat Robertson. I’d been on the Quidditch team six years running, for Merlin's sake! I could certainly help her train better than just about anyone except Hooch herself.
As I sat there staring into the fire, I heard the portrait hole open behind me. I glanced around, but did not see anyone, and turned back to the fire with a grumble. I heard a crash and a squeal, and suddenly Lily Evans appeared, eyes wide as she stumbled into a chair and tried to make her way unnoticed to the girls' dormitory.
"Oi, Evans!" I called, jumping up to startle her some more. "What are you doing sneaking around after hours? The meeting ended an hour ago and curfew is past. You're not trying out that Disillusionment Charm we learned, are you?"
Lily sputtered; I frequently got that reaction from her. "What are you doing down here?" she finally demanded instead.
"Not sneaking around," I replied archly, hiding the Cloak in my robes. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Neither was I," she said, sounding a bit defensive. She also held something behind her back. I grinned and snatched it before she had a chance to react.
"Ah, a little bit of bedtime reading," I remarked, flipping though the book. It was a deadly dull tome on broomsticks and flying; I could have given her any other number of more interesting books and magazines. "So you really are going to try it?"
"I am," she replied, somewhat defiantly as she tried to grab the book back. I held it up, pretending to read the chapter on braking charms. "Do you have a problem with that, Potter?"
I shrugged. "No, no problem. Just don't cry when I leave you in my tailwind."
Lily snorted. "I'll be too far ahead to even worry about your back end."
"I didn't think you liked flying," I remarked, tossing the book back to her and ignoring her smart remark. She caught it deftly. "Might mess up your hair or something."
"That's true," she said, a look of exaggerated horror on her face. "Then I might look like you." She ran her hand through her hair, mimicking my own nervous habit.
"It's an improvement," I replied as blandly as I could, even though she was starting to push my buttons now. We'd been working together as Head Boy and Head Girl for almost two months, and though things had settled down between us compared to years past, we still had a good row now and then. I felt one coming on.
"I can win," she replied.
"You'll need a lot of practice," I observed.
"I will."
"And a better tutor."
"Why?" She didn't even seem surprised that I knew about her deal with Robertson.
"You know I'm the better flier, Evans. Why ask Robertson?"
"Because he'll actually teach me," she replied. "Not just show off."
Did she really think that's what I did all the time? "Well," I shrugged, "just don't fall off your broom when he starts groping you."
"What do you care if he gropes me?" she asked. "Or if I fall off?"
I tried not to grin as I ticked off the reasons on my hand. "One: he's a git and the groping would be revolting. Two: I don't want to rescue you when you fall off your broom. Three-"
She interrupted me, rolling her eyes. "No one is going to grope me, and I'm not going to fall off my broom. I'm going to win."
"Keep dreaming, Evans."
"You wish, Potter."
Part Two: Get Set…
"Hey, toe-rag!" I heard the voice and recognized the tone-not to mention her favorite insult-before I even saw her. I stopped in mid-swoop, hanging above the Quidditch pitch on my Nimbus 1001 as Lily Evans soared up on her Cleansweep and gave me a smirk, her green eyes flashing mischievously.
Merlin, I loved--yet hated-that look.
"Looking a bit sluggish," she observed, obviously trying to rattle me. "I think your big head is definitely slowing you down."
"'Morning, Evans," I replied as blandly as I could after a greeting like that. "You know you've been using that insult for almost three years now. Can't you find something more original?"
"I'm just pointing out the truth," she threw back.
"My Quidditch record and upcoming win in the race next weekend should finally prove it wrong, then."
"Not if I can help it," she grinned. "I've got a tutor, remember?"
I looked down and saw Jackson Robertson below us. He was talking with the sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect. She had long, blond hair and giggled a lot. I sighed: she was my trainee, and although it was going to be a challenge shaping her up, I couldn't wait to see the look on Evans's face.
"Mr. Jackson, yes," I replied. "Didn't I hit him with a Quaffle last match?"
"I think you were aiming for the hoop," Lily replied. She glanced down and frowned. "Who is he talking to?"
"What, worried your sessions won't be one-on-one?" I teased, raising my eyebrows suggestively.
"That's Carin O'Connell," Lily continued, completely ignoring my remark. "What's she doing out here? I don't think she's been on a broom since first year. She fell off and broke a nail."
Oh, I couldn't wait to see the look on her face now.
Robertson and O'Connell flew up to meet us. O'Connell was a bit unsteady, and I wondered what I was getting into by agreeing to tutor her in flying. I wondered why she was even participating in a flying competition. On the other hand, the Ravenclaw git was a strong flyer, and he was fast, as well. It was possible he might be the toughest competition in the race.
As they joined us mid-air, Robertson actually had the nerve to give Lily a peck on the cheek, as if tutoring her suddenly made him her boyfriend. She blushed and looked away. I tried not to let my jaw drop, since she would have smacked me if I had tried something like that. Hoping to recover, I went for biting sarcasm.
"So that's what you two are really pairing up for," I smirked. Lily's eyes went wide, and she shook her head, obviously mortified.
Robertson put his arm around her waist, and I actually saw her shift her broom, trying to move away from him. Now it was all I could do to keep from laughing. She had asked the guy for flying lessons, and the jerk had assumed she wanted more. I could hardly stand the irony of it.
"I'm as shocked as you, Potter," he grinned, and he actually winked at me. O'Connell giggled mindlessly next to me; I wanted to retch.
"I doubt that, Robertson," I murmured, still fascinated by Lily's reaction. She was positively flaming red. It looked horrid with her hair, although it made her green eyes stand out even more.
"Jackson's just going to take me around the grounds a bit this morning," Lily stated, finally collecting herself and swerving off on her broom. "Get me up to speed with my technique."
"Oh, James is doing the same for me!" twittered O'Connell. She flipped her long, blond hair out of her face, almost losing her balance and falling off her broom. At least Lily had remembered to pull her hair back and wear decent flying clothes; O'Connell would be pushing hair out of her face all morning, if she lasted that long in her flimsy-but fashionable- skirt and top.
The look on Lily's face was worth a hundred Galleons. She appeared stunned, furious, and-dare I say it-jealous all at the same time. I will remember that face forever. I grinned at her, and I swear she growled back.
Robertson was not quite so thick as O'Connell. He watched us suspiciously as we glared at each other above the pitch. "Right, then-good luck to you two," he said abruptly, taking Lily's hand. It jolted her out of the staring match we couldn't seem to escape.
"Yes, good luck, Potter," she gritted out. And then she did that crazy thing that girls can do, which is she did a complete one-eighty and smiled sweetly at O'Connell. "You too, dear. You'll need it with him."
Well, sweet with a touch of sour thrown in.
O'Connell laughed, oblivious to anything that had just passed between the three of us. It made me cringe again, and I blamed Evans. O'Connell had only asked for my help because Lily had set the precedent and lined up her own private lessons. I had only agreed because I wanted to get back at Lily. At least she seemed bothered, even if I had to put up with a stream of mind-numbing nonsense for the morning.
Robertson took Lily off toward the black lake, while I stayed by the pitch with O'Connell. She would certainly drown herself if we started out by the water. We weren't the only ones out to practice, for more and more prefects turned up to get some flying time in before the following weekend. As I tried my best to coach O'Connell-and I did, because I had a reputation to protect, after all-I sized up the competition.
There were some good Slytherins, some exceptional Ravenclaws, and a terrific sixth-year Hufflepuff that should have been on their Quidditch team. The Gryffindor prefects were decent as well; Remus was faster than I remembered, and Ryan Sloper, the sixth-year prefect and our back-up Beater, had improved tremendously over the past few months.
I tried not to watch Lily too much, but I couldn't help it: she was far better than I had thought. I remembered our beginning flying lessons as first-years, and how awkward she had been back then. Apparently, she had warmed up to flying over six years, and I had never noticed. She was steady, confident, and fairly quick. I wondered, though, if that was because she was trying to stay away from Robertson and his wandering hands.
About mid-morning, we had a bit of a run-in with Dante Avery, the seventh-year Slytherin prefect. He hung around with Severus Snape and a crowd of dirty Slytherins who were getting more and more out of control. He was a disrespectful tosspot as far as I was concerned, and he thought about as highly of me as I did of him.
We’d never got along, and this year was no exception as he became more and more vocal about where his loyalties lay when it came to purebloods and Muggle-borns. As far as he was concerned, my family was rubbish for not joining Voldemort’s side in the war, and I was even worse for associating with Sirius Black, the biggest blood traitor at Hogwarts. Avery and his cronies were constantly picking on Muggle-borns and anyone who supported them, and it was only a matter of time before their cruel taunts went too far.
Avery was large for a flyer, but he was uncannily quick and agile. He was also ruthless on the Quidditch pitch, and I suspected the same would go for the race as well. I did not, however, anticipate him antagonizing us during practice. He deliberately cut off O’Connell, sending her into a deep dive; she barely managed to avoid crashing headfirst into the ground, but stumbled to her knees and ripped her skirt instead.
“Watch, it, Avery!” I shouted as I helped her back up and even repaired her skirt. “You’ll get someone hurt!”
“Watch yourself, Potter. You’re going down next weekend, you know. You and all your Muggle-loving friends.” He sneered at O’Connell; I had forgotten that her mother was Muggle-born. As usual, my blood started to boil whenever someone went on about pureblood prejudice, and I wanted to hex him. My Head Boy badge had come with responsibility, however, so I ignored my first impulse and docked him five points instead for unsportsmanlike behavior. It felt ridiculous, but it was all I could do.
Avery narrowed his eyes at me, and I stared him down, silently daring him to start something. He veered off to resume practicing with the other Slytherins instead, throwing one last threatening look over his shoulder. O’Connell was shaken, but thanked me profusely by throwing her arms around my neck. I hardly heard her, distracted as I wondered how the ugly scene would play out at the race.
As the morning came to a close, O'Connell and I settled back to the Quidditch pitch. Everyone was starting to clean up and head inside for lunch. Unfortunately, my trainee tripped on her landing and went stumbling right into Jackson Robertson, ripping her skirt again. Their brooms went spinning away as they landed in an undignified heap in front of Evans, who looked up in shock at me before bursting into gales of laughter. I couldn't help but join her, even though I knew it was rude.
Jackson helped O'Connell up before I got there. He apologized profusely, even though she had crashed into him. O'Connell was obviously embarrassed and glared at Lily as if it were her fault. Lily coughed and stopped laughing.
"Sorry," she said, still grinning slightly. "Here, I'll get your brooms. You guys go on ahead."
Jackson and O'Connell began walking back toward the castle, Robertson still apologizing and even brushing dirt from O'Connell's back. I lagged behind, hoping to get in a dig or two with Evans. She started before I could even open my mouth.
"Brilliant catch, Potter," she murmured, picking up Robertson's Nimbus and tossing me O'Connell's school broom. "A wonder she knew which way was up."
"Ah, but she loves it when I show off," I shot back. It was shamelessly true: O'Connell had clapped and applauded all my tricks, although I had to admit it all felt a bit empty and trite.
"She'd clap for a monkey jumping rope," Lily replied, rolling her eyes. I made a monkey sound and to my astonishment, she laughed.
"Whoa, watch yourself, Evans," I said. "You just laughed at something I said. I might get a big head."
Her sideways glance was both scathing and amused.
"Too late. So what happened with Avery?”
I frowned and looked away to where he laughing with Teresa Davis, the other seventh-year prefect from Slytherin. “Just the usual sneering, snarling, and going on about Muggles. I docked him five points for cutting off O’Connell.”
“I’m impressed you didn’t jinx him,” Lily said.
“So am I,” I replied.
“Do you think he’ll cause trouble next week?” she asked curiously.
“Of course,” I said. “I think they all will. Watch out. They’ll be after you, too, you know.”
Lily shrugged “Thanks, but I'm getting used to it. So how did Carin fly? Think she'll do okay?" she asked, changing the subject. I knew that being a Muggle-born was a sensitive issue for her, but I had to warn her. I had a bad feeling about Avery.
"No," I replied. "Her hair will get in the way and she'll end up in Hogsmeade somewhere. She'd be better off waving a starting flag."
Lily laughed again, and I smiled, strangely pleased to have made her laugh not once, but twice.
"I hope mine falls into the lake," she whispered, leaning closer. "He's like a squid anyway, constantly grasping at things he shouldn't be grasping at."
I laughed and whispered back. "I did warn you. Want me to hex him for you?"
She almost seemed to think about it. "No," she said wistfully. "At least, not yet. I'd rather do it myself, anyway."
"Let me know when you do," I said. "Having been on the receiving end of your wand more times that I can count, I'd like to see some other bloke go down for once."
She grinned, and for one of the first times all year we were simply two people enjoying a laugh, and not two people dueling it out in the common room for show. It felt natural, and I didn't want it to end. As we continued toward the castle, we talked more about the race the following weekend and how we thought the competition would turn out. I even found myself giving her tips on her flying.
Unfortunately, we caught up to Robertson and O'Connell, and it all evaporated as Robertson took Lily's hand and nodded rather curtly to me before pulling her away. She threw me an exasperated look over her shoulder, and I couldn't help but shake my head. I almost felt bad for her.
O'Connell watched them leave before she turned back toward me with a coy smile. "Thanks for the flying lesson, James," she practically purred. "You're great on a broom. I hope we can do it again sometime."
I stammered something about having Head Boy duties all week, but she just smiled again. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. "Maybe after the race, then," she suggested softly. She batted her eyes at me a bit before leaving for the Great Hall. I just stood there, slightly stunned, wondering what I had got myself into with her.
When I finally started moving again, I caught Lily staring at me from the entrance to the Great Hall. She was still with Robertson, and she was frowning. I couldn't tell if she was sick of him, or if she was upset with me. I looked away with a sigh, wanting more than anything to try flying with her instead. I'd take her insults over O'Connell's flattery any day.
Please click here for the conclusion (part 3).