Le Défi

Chapter Five

Teammates

If stupidity got us into this mess, then why can't it get us out? - Will Rogers

Forget about History of Magic, screw summer homework, and get in line detention with Professor Hubert. The most tedious, boring project James had ever worked on was tying socks together to make garlands. For not only did Slytherins have twice the number of socks that normal wizards did, but they were all black. There were no stripes, or polka dots, or bright colours. It was all varying shades of black and grey, and made the entire project mind-numbing.

He and Sirius had been at it for an hour now. Remus and Peter had done half of them the night before, and now it was time for the other two to take their turn at suffering.

"Whose bright idea was this?" Sirius grumbled. "Which genius came up with the idea to bloody tie all these together?"

"That would be you," James replied tonelessly.

"Oh." There was a long pause. "The looks on their faces will be worth it. It'll be brilliant. One of my best ideas yet, I'd say."

"I wouldn't."

"That's just because you didn't come up with it."

"Damn, you found my hidden jealousy."

James' sarcasm was lost upon Sirius.

"So," Sirius said, glancing around as he reached for a sock that wasn't plain black, "I'm bored."

"I never would have noticed."

"How're things in Lily-land?" Sirius asked, falling back on the subject he never tired of hearing about.

"Still raining." James searched around for a colourful sock. Slytherins were so boring - why couldn't they buy striped socks, or polka-dotted socks? Why must everything be black?

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Only raining?"

"With the after effects of a tropical storm and a slight chance of Ten Plagues of Egypt in the near future." James paused to dig through the pile of socks. "I'll get her eventually."

"I dunno, too much rain means flooding, and flooding means mass destruction -"

"I'll be sure to install a state-of-the-art drainage system."

"- and you're a horrible swimmer."

"I am not." James looked over, confused. He was no Olympian, true, but he was pretty good in the water; better than Sirius, at any rate.

"Going to get her? Yeah, I know."

"Patience. It'll all pay off in the end."

"It'll have to, what with the - what is it, six? - years of rain this girl has dumped on you."

"Two. Only two years. And what about you?" James said quickly, before he began to doubt his eventual winning of Lily's heart. "Got any plans for tonight?"

A glint appeared in his friend's eyes. "Meeting Carrie," he said, a rather cocky smile playing on his face. "She's not Anna or anything, but there is that certain quality... what is it again?"

"That she's a sure thing?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"I'm dumping Anna," James said quickly.

This time Sirius did look shocked. "Why?" he finally asked.

James gave him an obvious look. "I don't like her."

"She's hot."

"She giggles constantly."

"She's nice."

"She can't go ten minutes without fixing her hair."

"You can't go five minutes without messing up yours."

"What's your point?"

"She's easy."

"Ruins the thrill of the chase."

"You're head over heels in love with Lily, aren't you? And here I was thinking you just wanted her body."

"You're branching off into two separate garlands," James replied, gritting his teeth.

Sirius glanced down, where his end of the sock garland had somehow become two ends. "Damn."

"D'you want to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"Love to, Prongs, but you're just not my type."

"My heart is broken," James said, clutching his chest. He then straightened and picked out another sock from the pile. Black. Of course. Damn Slytherins. "I need Dungbombs, and without Dung here, we actually need to go to Hogsmeade to replenish."

"I need Every Flavour Beans."

"Every Flavour Beans, eh?" James raised his eyebrows while trying to knot a particularly thick woolen sock.

"You can make anything sound dirty."

"Why thank you."

"It is a trait to be proud of."

"Speaking of our many talents, Quidditch tomorrow."

"That's right... I forgot."

"Oh well. Five-ish is when I'm heading out."

"I guess I'll come."

"You don't have a choice."

*

Friday afternoon, final class of the week. Predestined to take twice as long as any other class, for this is the class where clocks run slower, eyes are glued to the second hand, teachers' voices fade away as visions of the Quidditch pitch drift into minds...

"Potter."

James jumped in his seat, and spun around wildly to look Professor Grey in the eye.

"From now on, I would appreciate it if you would refrain from falling asleep in my class."

"I wasn't sleeping!" he protested, as giggles could be heard behind him. "I was meditating."

Professor Grey raised her eyebrows. Meditating couldn't really be punished, as this was Divination, but still, he hadn't heard a word of her lecture on numerology.

"Let's keep the meditating till next month, shall we?"

"Of course," he said through a grin. "No meditating. No sleeping. Absolute attention at the front."

She smiled, happy that he was respecting her authority, and turned around to go to the front.

Merlin, teachers are stupid...

James slumped back in his seat, and chanced one more glance at the clock situated on the back wall. Another half an hour of class to go. Yes! Twenty-nine minutes...

Why did I decide to keep putting myself through this? he wondered idly. Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail aren't even here! He frowned slightly and flicked the feather end on his quill against the table. If Professor Grey would just turn back to that chart for five seconds, he could reach into his bag, underneath his Potions notes (or lack thereof), and would be able to get a bottle of Firewhisky which he always kept close at hand during the more draw-out classes.

He hadn't needed one yet this year, which was probably a record of some sort, but right now, he would do anything to get his mind off all of the stupid numbers.

James hated numbers almost as much as he hated meditating.

Just... turn... come on... No!

She had now begun to wander about, peering over shoulders and correcting, so not only was James Firewhiskyless, but he had to try and do this, too! Grunting, he turned to the page and quickly jotted down a few numbers, added them up, and looked up the result in the book.

"Wonderful," he heard over his shoulder a few seconds later. "You've really picked up on this one, Potter."

"Why thank you, professor. Although I'm sure this would all be far more interesting if we did dream analysis."

"Maybe we'll do that some other time," she said, considering. "But not today."

James sighed. Why did no one get his attempts at sarcasm?

When class ended, he was the first down the ladder. He was the first to leap down the stairs, and was running full out to a corner on the third floor, where he knew he would meet Lily Evans coming back from Study of Ancient Runes. He was just rounding a corner when he spotted her at the end of the hall, and stopped himself before he was in her view path.

"Evans!" he exclaimed as she passed, "how wonderful to see you! Shall I accompany you back up to Gryffindor Tower?" He grinned as he spoke. She was the only Gryffindor in that class, and so there was really no other option, no one else came from that particular direction.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" she asked, quickening her pace and frowning.

James grinned, he had discovered this method of talking to her last April, but had taken a break from it while he had dated Lene, and after his rather violent break up with Lene.

"You mean there's something better than gazing upon a lady as lovely as yourself?"

"How about gazing upon Anna. You know, your girlfriend?"

It took James a few seconds to figure out what she was talking about. It was very easy to get lost while looking at her. "Oh, her. No, as hard as I tried, I couldn't get her to replace you in my heart."

Lily stopped suddenly, and looked behind her, then peered ahead. "Alright," she said, defeated sounding, "where is it?"

James was confused. "Where's what?"

"The bucket of slime! The ambush! The eight bazillion paper hearts that will follow me around signing for two weeks! Please, just get whatever it is over with so I can go back to the Tower in peace."

Eight bazillion paper hearts, he thought, must remember that one...

"Evans, Evans, Evans-"

"Do you really expect me to like you when you can't even use my first name?"

"You don't use mine."

"That's because I don't like you, and I don't want you to like me. It causes all sorts of problems in my social life."

Oh. That made sense. "Fine. Lily, Lily Lily... when was the last time I did anything horrible to you?"

"First day back. You screamed at me and called me horrible things in front of the whole house, then bribed all those perverts to follow me around the next day so that you wouldn't look so bad in comparison."

What! Where did she get that!

"Lily, you're confused. I never-"

She began to walk again. James jogged to catch up, right up the stairs.

"Damn it, I ran all the way here from the North Tower to walk you back to the common room, the least you could do is talk nicely."

"I'm flattered, I really am, Potter, but I don't know how many ways there are to tell you this. I. Don't. Like. You. Okay? Don't like you, and not going to any time soon. So will you please just disappear?"

"Gladly."

Not like he had a choice, for he had just gotten lost in her eyes again, and had stepped right into the trick step. His left foot was now stuck. So, because Lily wanted him to disappear, he placed his right foot on the step to, making it appear intentional. Trying not to wince at the exceptionally weird feeling, he grinned up at her. At least if it looked intentional he wouldn't be a total idiot.

She gave him a very bored, very annoyed look. "You are an idiot."

"I'm just lovesick."

If looks could kill...

She sighed, holding out her hand. "Fine. Take my hand and I'll try and pull you out."

Grinning, James did take her hand, then quickly brought it to his lips. Merlin, but her skin was soft.

Lily leaped up about four steps, and gave him a disgusted look. "What is wrong with you! Do you want to be sucked into oblivion!"

James considered. "I don't really know. No one's ever been sucked all the way through, I'd just like to see what's on the other side."

"What happens if you turn up in a toilet in seven weeks, with no memory?"

"Then I'll be a hero for daring to go where no one's gone before. With the exception of Moaning Myrtle."

"What if you die?"

"Then I can haunt you for the rest of your life, and ensure that you're never with anyone who's unworthy of you. Hmm, that would be just about everyone, wouldn't it?"

He had now sunk in to his knees, and felt as though he was going to tip over. Not so cool.

Lily rolled her eyes, but held out her hand again. "Just take my hand Potter, and I'll try and pull you out."

"Worried about me, are you?" He grinned.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps could be heard. Lots of footsteps. Before James knew what was going on, he and Lily were surrounded with the fifth year class, on their way back from Potions.

"Way to fight the establishment!"

"Quick - where's the other trick step?"

"James! What are you doing!" cried a prominent member of the Admirers.

For the life of him, James couldn't remember her name. So he grinned his trademark grin. She blushed, and averted her eyes to the ground.

"James?" It was Chris.

"Ryan! Ready for Quidditch later?"

He raised his eyebrows. "We do sort of need you to be there. Seeing as how you're captain and all. Is there a reason why you're standing in the trick step?"

James nodded abruptly. He loved having all these people watch him, waiting for what he would say. They would hang onto his every word. "I can't think of anyone who's ever gone all the way through before," he said. "I figure I'll be the first."

He heard murmurs of approval from all around him, saw some eyes light up in excitement and awe, and felt himself slip through even further - the step was almost up to his waist.

"Please Potter!" Lily looked close to hysterics. "Just get out. Do you know what they're going to say if you die? Do you?"

Before James could open his mouth properly, he heard a cool voice behind him.

"They're going to say, "There was a Prefect there, why didn't she stop him?' They're going to say, 'A Mudblood Prefect, shows you what happens when they're put in power.'"

James tried to whirl around to curse whoever had insulted Lily so, but found that he couldn't. But he could recognise the voice. "Bella," he said as calmly as he could, "take that back."

"I'm just saying what everyone's thinking, James," she said, again in that cool, collected voice. "Even Evans here was thinking it."

James glanced over Lily, who looked much closer to crying. He didn't blame her, after having been called... well... that.

"Potter, please," she repeated.

James considered agreeing with her, and allowing her to pull him out. But her couldn't, because as Bellatrix had spoken, he had sunk in up to his elbows, and he couldn't seem to get his arms to move.

"Afraid I can't do that, Lily." He grinned again, although he was feeling decidedly daft Why was he doing this again? Oh yeah - so he wouldn't look stupid in front of Lily. Well, that had backfired.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then turned and fled up the stairs, dropping her bag in order to go faster.

"Hey Chris," James said in what he hoped was a casual voice, "want to give me a hand here? Help me out? Just remembered - I can't go off into the unknown today, I have a Quidditch tryout to get to by five. Oh and Emily-" he knew he would remember her name eventually "- could you grab Lily's bag for me? I don't want her to lose anything."

Emily giggled and complied.

*

It was so tempting. There it was, the base of the stands, just waiting for James to bang his head against it several times over. But he couldn't. He couldn't because he was captain, and he had to keep his composure no matter how hopeless the new would-be players looked, or how much muttering he heard behind him.

It was so tempting. Just one good bang... Maybe he'd become delirious and feel happy with the prospects of his new team. Maybe the weird feeling of being squished by the stairs would leave his limbs.

Some time after the crowd dispersed, and Chris tried to get James out, Lily had come back with Sirius. She had collected her things and then left his fate to the other two, stopping only to tell him what an idiot he was.

James took another look at all the Gryffindor hopefuls eagerly awaiting for him to begin. They looked so happy, so encouraged. So incredibly naïve. So small. And he was in no mood to be nice and tell them they were great.

Behind him, he could hear Michelle tap her broom against her calf. Sirius was muttering about the shortness, scrawniness, and general patheticness of those who wanted to be on the team, and Chris looked as though he really wanted to laugh.

That wall had never looked so good.

Inwardly cringing, James plastered a grin on his face and opened his mouth. "Right. So here we are, another year of Quidditch, and Gryffindor must once again come out on top. As you can see, there are a lot of you here, so don't take it to hard if you don't make it. We have three spots to fill, and almost twenty people.

"For those of you who don't know me-" there was laughter "- I'm James Potter, Captain and Chaser. This is Sirius Black, Beater, Chris Ryan, Keeper, and Michelle Chen, our Seeker.

"We're going to have a look at the Beaters first, so if you'd step forward..." James paused and watched as seven people stepped forward. Two of them had the bulk required, another looked as though he had skill on a broom, two he couldn't judge, and two looked absolutely hopeless. At least Peter wasn't there.

Relieved that this was not his area of expertise, James stepped to the side and waved his arm for Sirius to take over.

"You meager bunch of weaklings!" Sirius barked, Sergeant-style. "You half-brained gaggle of flobberworms! You lazy, scruffy, incompetent little whiners! Why are you here?"

James groaned. When he had said, "Try and be professional," before it began, this hadn't exactly been what he meant.

They looked nervously at each other.

"To be the best we can be, sir!" one yelled back good-naturedly, the small one who looked skilled on a broom.

Sirius grinned. "I like that one," he muttered in James' direction. He marched right up to the student in question and yelled in his face. "Name and rank!"

"Oberholzer, Nate! Second year!"

"Any skills!"

The kid shrugged. "I can hit the Bludgers pretty good," he tried.

"Well that's not good enough!" Sirius yelled. "You can't just hit the Bludger! You must aim it! Smash it! Direct it! Control it!"

"I can control a Bludger!" the kid yelled back.

Sirius nodded curtly.

James was caught between bursting out laughing and reconsidering the wall. The wall was winning.

Sirius repeated this inane performance with all six of the others, and James was finally seeing that there was method behind the madness. All but the first quailed with someone like Sirius in their face. Everyone else shrunk back, at least a little, and some couldn't even bark back an answer.

Why'd Sirius have to go and be clever? Made James look bad... Not that he had meant to be clever, he just felt like scaring them a bit.

Finally Sirius was done the intimidation, and had them go up and hit the Bludgers around, trying to knock each other off. The four members of the Quidditch team stood together, commenting.

"The little one's skilled," Michele pointed out.

"Look at that. Why do some of these people come out?" Chris rolled his eyes, conveniently forgetting that the year before it had been he who was squirming at tryouts.

"What is he doing up there? Ballet?"

"Okay, so scratch the blonde."

"Wait - blonde's back, Prongs."

"Why do you insist on calling him that?"

"No particular reason, Michelle me beauty. Wow - He's horrib - Blonde's back."

"That was a stupid thing to do."

"Hardly."

"Has that one hit anything?"

"He got hit, does that count?"

"No Michelle, it doesn't."

"I had to cancel a date for this."

"Quit whining, Ryan, I'm sure they would all be thrilled if we held a Keeper tryout."

"Shut up Potter. The one on the Cleansweep-"

"Sucks."

"I was going to say 'is a possibility'."

"No."

"Did you see how he handled that Dopplebeater?"

"He didn't."

"I thought-"

"We don't care, Michelle."

"Shut it Ryan, or I'll tell Deirdre you have lucky underwear."

"I do not!"

"She doesn't know that."

"Can you two please keep your personal lives out of this?"

"Or at least go shag each other so we can all stop pretending to ignore the fact that you like each other?"

"Sirius Black!"

"What?"

James rolled his eyes at the fuming Keeper and Seeker, and the surprised looking Sirius. If it had been anyone but Sirius, whom they knew well enough not to take seriously, they would both be storming off the field in opposite directions. Of course, it was rather obvious that Michelle had developed a bit of a crush on Chris, and that he flaunted Deirdre in her face, after she had made fun of his lack of interaction with the opposite sex the year previous.

"Eyes on the Beaters," he said firmly.

"That was a nice move - the one in the red who did the spinny thingy."

"What do they think they're doing over there?"

Sirius nodded at James.

"What?"

"The little one who talked back or the big one in the red." Sirius had made his choice.

Michelle shook her head. "I was going to say the blonde or the little one."

James looked over at Chris, still rather red in the face.

"I say the little one."

Nodding, James grinned. He had been going to pick the little second-year anyway. "YOU CAN ALL COME DOWN!" he yelled.

One down, two to go.

They landed eagerly, and all looked slightly crestfallen as James waved them over to the side. No one had ever said that the star of Gryffindor athletics would be fun and games all the time...

"Chasers!" he yelled in the direction of the stands, "warm up lap!"

Once on his broom again, James felt much better. When on his broom, he could do no wrong; even Lily Evans would grudging admit that. The wind swept his hair back as he circled the stadium, then demonstrated the drill they would be running.

It was a deceptively simple drill. Although it was easy to follow and remember, it took a great deal of skill to go through without error, and would help eliminate many of the prospects quite quickly.

He really didn't want to go back to the ground.

*

To be truthful, James thought later that evening, as he reviewed all of the mental notes he had made about the Chasers before making a decision, Quidditch tryouts were boring. Not nearly as boring as tying socks together though, which was exactly what Remus and Peter were doing, or a 500-word essay on why sixth years should not show up in first year Potions classes, which was what Sirius was doing. All in all, however, James had been thoroughly underwhelmed by the feelings he got during his first official job as Captain.

Sure the flying had been fun, but he couldn't watch them all objectively while up in the air with them, and so he had had to return to the ground.

He went over his notes once more. Only three of them had been able to score on Chris - more due to his talent then their lack of, though. Holly Jacobs, the girl who had perched on the arm of his chair and come up with that brilliant faking play, was one of them. Her name had been circled, underlined, and generally recognised that she would be on the team.

The decision for who the other would be was the tough part. Sure, some of them had actually been decent, but it was really down to three people for the last position. Gemma Wilkins, a fifth year who had also, coincidentally, been the first girl to have her heart broken by Sirius Black, had scored. It had seemed a little like a fluke on her part, but she still had managed to get by Chris Ryan, Keeper Supreme. It could also be that she was good at faking, everyone had been sure she was going for the right hoop until the last second, when she did a sort of upside-down spin and nearly went through the left hoop herself. Even if it had been an accident, regaining control like she had was no mean feat. Wes Irving had also scored, but he had been a bit of a ball hog. He had stolen quite a few and had an excellent broom. He was good, but seemed to go more for personal success than working as a team. That could be changed, though... Anyone who was on the same team as James Potter would have to learn to share the glory. Blake Thomas had not scored. He had, however, made two of the three assists and had been a definite team player. He had stolen a few, and seemed to know the basic formations, but he hadn't gone to score at all... Maybe he needed a bit of a confidence booster. Now who to choose...

"Hey Padfoot, d'you think it would be possible to work with Gemma?"

Sirius gave him a look. "Are you serious? Work with her?"

"Well, she was pretty good out there, and-"

"That girl is evil. She stares at me. All the time! She doesn't know what 'it was over almost three years ago' means!"

"So I'm guessing that's a no." James scratched through her name. Oh well, she hadn't done much else worth noting.

Remus looked up from his socks. "You still haven't decided? You do realise that they're crowding around the door as I speak, waiting for your decision."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, jumped up and strode over to the door. Opening it, he stuck his head out. "Clear out! He'll tell you lot when he's done! He hasn't finished yet!"

"Thanks," James muttered as Sirius closed the door.

"So, have you decided yet?"

"No!"

Sirius went back to his essay, smirking. "Just asking..."