Sanguis Novus

Chapter Nine: Quidditch and Flying Galore

At breakfast the next morning, Lily adamantly avoided looking over at the Slytherin table and relegated herself to morosely stirring a bowl of soggy cornflakes. Lucius seemed as composed and awake as ever, but Lily had to be roughly prodded in the arm before opening her eyes. Her sleepiness was still apparent, manifesting itself in her pale cheeks.

"You really couldn't sleep last night, could you?" James asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "I'm sure you could skive off History of Magic to catch up on your sleep."

"James, you're not supposed to put any bad ideas into innocent little Lily's mind, remember?" Sirius chastised, barely holding back a grin.

"Lily, don't listen to them," Remus cautioned. "Skiving off classes on the second day of the term, even if it is History of Magic, won't go well with the professors."

"What, old Binns?" James scoffed. "You're kidding. My dad once walked right out of class without him knowing."

"To do what?" Alice challenged, rolling her eyes. "Put a Niffler in someone's office?"

"Come to think of it, that's exactly what he did. A genius, my dad is."

On any other day, Lily would have eagerly joined in on the laughter; instead, she yawned grandly and pushed her cornflakes aside.

"Aren't you going to finish it?" Alice said.

"Nah. I'm not hungry. Not one bit. Guess my appetite hasn't woken up either."

"Well, think of it this way: you'll be starving by lunchtime, so then you can make up for breakfast."

"It helps to think of it like that. Shouldn't we be leaving for class now?"

Leaving the three boys to chat amongst themselves, Lily and Alice walked - or in Lily's case, stumbled - to the History of Magic classroom. Unlike the other classrooms they had been in, this one appeared to have been untouched by the cleaning staff in some time. The rows of desks were askew, and upon closer examination, the windowsill was caked with a thick layer of dormant dust. Half-erased tracks of chalk covered the board. Maybe I ought to have taken James's advice after all, Lily thought.

There was a light knock on the partly closed door, and a swinging film of dark brown hair emerged into sight.

"Hi, is this where History of Magic is?" she asked. Lily clapped a hand to her mouth. She knew exactly who the girl was. Upon seeing Lily's reaction, the girl hastily added, "I must have the wrong room then."

"Oh, no, you're in the right place," Alice answered. "Ravenclaw? I'm pretty sure we've got this class with the Ravenclaws."

"Yeah, so I guess you must be Gryffindors."

"My name's Alice, and this is Lily."

The girl looked dazed. "L-Lily?"

"Hmm?" Lily trilled, focusing intently on the scratches on her desk.

"Are you the, well, you know...the other..." Her voice dropped down to a whisper. "Are you the other Muggle-born?"

"A-um, yeah, I am." Neither of them moved. "You could sit down, if you'd like."

"My name's Helen, by the way."

A pack of Ravenclaws soon entered the room, all of them casting funny looks at Lily and Helen. As she shuffled into their seats, Lily heard the word Mudblood being circled around, not-very-tacitly referring to them. When Lily took out her copy of A History of Purebloods, she slammed it onto her desk, its legs creaking ominously. Scowling, she sent the Ravenclaws a nasty look and then glared back down at the book.

A History of Purebloods.

If Lily had known what it meant, she would have never purchased it in the first place. She certainly wasn't a fan of book burning and censorship, but if she ever had a chance to toss a single book into a climbing conflagration, that one would be it.

"What a sick class this is going to be," she spat, slamming a fist onto its cover. "A bunch of Pureblood nonsense. What are they going to teach us, huh? How to properly respect Purebloods? How they're better than people like me in every way?" The Ravenclaws' pre-class babbling ceased, and every one of their heads turned in Lily's direction. "What're you all staring at?" she demanded.

"Lily," Helen implored, "could you stop? I don't like it when - when they look at me like that."

"Why should I?" Lily growled, suddenly realized what "History of Magic" really meant. "This class is insulting."

A sudden surge of recklessness seizing her, she stood up, heart pounding, the somnolence of breakfast fading away. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Helen pleading for her to sit, but she couldn't, not when her dignity was being threatened. Gone were the days where -

The door swung open, and a cackle of laughter met her ears. James, leading the procession, marched to the front of the classroom and declared, "Well, guys, welcome to History of Magic, where naps are served all day, everyday, and there's never any work to be done. C'mon!"

He and Sirius hurried to the very back row, both of them sporting pompous smiles. Remus paused when he reached Lily's row.

"Why are you standing up?" he asked.

"Oh, I - no reason," she said quickly, sitting down and feeling both angry and ashamed all at once. "Remus, this is Helen." They nodded cordially at each other. "So, are James and Sirius up to anything?" she said in a hushed tone.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, you saw them. 'Never any work to be done'?"

"He's not up to anything except the usual," Remus sighed, looking around the room as the rest of the class filled the seats, "which would include sleeping and not doing anything related to the class."

"Won't they fail though?"

"James? Sirius? Fail? You saw them yesterday during Transfiguration. They both got farther than anyone else."

"But this isn't, you know, practical magic, right? It's - it's history."

"I don't know how he'll do it," he shrugged, "but I'm sure he'll find a way. He is James, after all."

"Oh, look!" Alice squealed, pointing a finger at something and getting everyone's attention.

A pearly form passed through the black board, hovering a foot or so off the ground as he looked at the class. Lily stared; it was a ghost. She had already become quite accustomed to seeing the transparent specters floating through the halls, but to have one as a professor, to have one teaching an actual class - she felt that was something unique in every way.

"Welcome to History of Magic," he drawled, his tone flat. "I am Professor Binns, and this year, we will study the basic social structure of Wizarding society as it is today and how it interacts. This will cover the first term. After the holidays, we will cover the historical roots of our social structure, examining them in great detail." Looking back down at A History of Purebloods, Lily snorted in disgust. Professor Binns seemed not to have noticed. "During classes, I expect you to take notes. They will be especially helpful in studying for your end-of-the-year exams. Now, to begin, please copy these terms and definitions down."

As Lily had been forewarned, the vast majority of the class sat there, not following his instructions. Behind her, James and Sirius were already talking animatedly, definitely loud enough for the professor to hear; however, Professor Binns merely floated there, watching onward, his eyes drooping.

"The term pureblood refers to..."

Whatever wave of energy Lily once possessed deserted her. She slumped over her desk, mouth hanging slightly open, and fell asleep. Her slumber, however, was short-lived. A hand fell on her shoulder and shook her. Lily woke up with a start.

"What?" she grumbled, raising her head a few inches off the desk.

"Since no one else is really paying attention, could we talk for a bit? I've been wanting to for a while," Helen whispered, and for the first time, Lily discovered the rest of the class, too, was either sleeping, doodling, or gazing far off in the distance, sinking into the limbo that separated the conscious and the unconscious. Professor Binns was still pacing in front of the classroom, sporadically gesturing at the board, rattling off his lecture and impervious of the state of the class. "Please?"

"Yeah, fine," Lily yawned. "So...what's going on?"

"It's - I'm having some trouble getting used to Hogwarts. I'm not used to the fact I'm a witch and that I can do magic, but it isn't as if I've gotten anywhere with it."

"That's nothing to worry about. A lot of people still aren't great with magic."

"Everyone keeps calling me 'Mudblood,' and I haven't a clue as to what it is or what it means. And I don't know if it's an insult or just what I am because most people say it like it's something they're used to, you know what I mean?"

"Yes," she sad, her mouth dry. "I know."

"What's it mean?"

Somehow, Lily found herself biting back tears, staring helplessly at Remus and the quill dangling from his limp hand. She was in the same predicament that he had been in when he had stumbled upon her, naïve, innocent, and ignorant. How had he treaded the fine line between outright lying and the cruel truth? How had he kept her happy while satisfying her inquisitiveness? She was in his position now, that of the omniscient and kind being, and how bitter it was for Lily to accept that she lacked his foresight and his wisdom.

"Means you're Muggle-born," Lily said, slowly and uncertainly. "You know what a Muggle is, right?"

Helen nodded and said, "The book told me. Hmm, you think the book could tell me what a Mudblood is?"

"I have a feeling it won't," Lily replied, though not really knowing for sure. "Remember how it said that there was a Limiting Charm cast on the book? It was done for a purpose: I guess the headmaster doesn't want us learning everything by reading. I think - I think he wants us to really go and out and learn what the Wizarding world is like."

With that, their conversation ended and the bell rang, and so as not to be caught in the coming inundation of students, Helen hastened to pack up her things and darted out of the classroom.

"She's a bit off color, isn't she?" Lily heard Sirius say behind her.

Lily hadn't even the will to criticize him for his comments. As she had watched Helen leave, her heart ringing, she felt sympathy like no other. They were the only Muggle-borns in the school. What else could she feel? It was something Sirius - perched atop his family prestige and name - or anyone else would not be able to understand.

Quite fortunately for Lily, the remainder of her first week at Hogwarts passed by without any remarkable incidents. Even Potions on Thursday was a rather pleasant affair. Professor Trewellyn had, out of discretion, not insisted on forcing House unity and let the students pick among themselves their partners. Lily steered clear of Avery, however tempting it was to ask him what he had been doing in the Owlery with Lucius that one night. "Mudblood" had been screamed in her direction as she passed through the halls more than once, and though it was in her nature to challenge this, she quietly kept her head down and reminded herself to retain a low profile. Making a scene in the hallways of Hogwarts was not a wise thing to do.

On a late Friday afternoon, Lily was trudging up to the Gryffindor tower from the library after hours of hard studying. Professor McGonagall had recently sprung on the first years yet another Transfiguration essay; the subject was quickly becoming one of Lily's least favorite. There was a subtlety to the art of transforming objects that remained unexplained, and Lily hadn't any idea as to how to capture and channel that subtlety. What more, James used every opportunity to put on flamboyant performances of his many gifts in Transfiguration. During the previous lesson, he had flaunted his Transfigured teacup to the point where Lily, scowling, whacked him over the head with her hand, resulting in a few lost points for Gryffindor.

"Oh, don't worry about it," she mumbled under her breath as she continued with her Transfiguration. "James over there can get those points back for you. Perfect little James and his perfect little teacup..."

The tirade had continued until someone nearby told her to be quiet.

Determined to redeem her inadequacy in the subject, Lily locked herself in one of the library's many student cubicles on the first years' free afternoon. Her bitter feelings replayed themselves between the scratching of her quill. Upon completion, she raised the ink-covered parchment to the light and breathed deeply. It might not be James-level, she thought, but it'll hopefully get me a good mark.

Now standing before the Fat Lady, Lily stretched her tensed arms, shaking from it the concentration built up from writing the essay. She checked her watch. Oh, good! she thought. It's only four. There's plenty of time to catch up on my reading -

"Lily?"

She turned slightly to the side. "Oh, hi, Helen. Enjoying the afternoon?"

"Yeah...um, I have something to ask you." Helen's hands played with her hair, looking terribly nervous. "I was wondering if you - we - could spend some time together this weekend?"

"Er, doing what?"

"Maybe taking a stroll around the grounds?" Her lower lip trembled as her hands convulsive movements stopped. "I'm just so lonely here at Hogwarts. No one in my House really likes me, and can I really blame them? I don't talk to anyone either. I only want - a friend, I guess."

"It's okay," Lily said, still trying to maintain her stoic façade.

"Nothing's worked out for me at all. People make fun of me in the hallways, and someone even told me they'd put me right back on the Hogwarts Express and send me back to London! This is such a horrible place. I wish I never came to Hogwarts."

"What?" Lily interjected, abandoning her attempt to be nothing more than a helpful and cheerful friend. "You can't be serious!"

"I am," Helen defended, "and I don't see why you should have come either. Hogwarts wasn't made for people like us."

"What - what d'you mean by 'people like us'? Helen, look, I'm a witch, and you're a witch too. We're just like everyone else. Hogwarts is exactly where we belong."

"Do you really believe that, though? Or are you just saying it because that's what they want you to believe?"

Lily wanted to yell, "Of course I believe that!" back at her, but Helen's quiet intensity made her choke on her own words. So, do you belong? she asked herself. Do you belong with people like Lucius and Avery?

Not with those kind of people, she argued back. But there's Remus and Alice...and I guess James and Sirius aren't so bad when they aren't showing off. Even Peter. They're my friends.

There are your friends...and then there are those that aren't you friends.

I never even had friends before Hogwarts. I at least have that now.

"Yes, I believe that," Lily stated, deliberating every syllable. "I think that if you just look in the right places, you'll find friends. That's what I had to do."

Burying her face in her hands, a paroxysm of wailing seized Helen and she sank down to the floor. It hurt Lily so, hearing the grievances of the lonely belted out wordlessly, the only route of communication the sobbing, the tears, all reduced to a small huddle on the floor. Lowering herself, Lily patted Helen's shoulder.

"Look, don't cry," she whispered, fumbling for something in her bag. "Here, have a tissue."

Helen raised her red, swollen face, great tears leaking from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Lily. I didn't mean to just start crying like that, but I'm so alone..."

"I know, I know. Um, how about this? I'll ask Alice if we could all go down to the grounds together, all right? The two of you could get to know each other better. She really is a nice person, I promise you."

"T-thank you," she sniffled, blowing her nose.

"I'll send you an owl tonight. Well, you'll get it tomorrow morning's what I mean." Helen forced a small giggle. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's great." With Lily's help, she pushed herself back onto her feet. "I'll see you around, then."

So over the warm and sunny weekend, Alice took Lily and Helen down to explore the grounds. The quaint wilderness of Scotland stretched out before their eyes as they skipped through lush pastures and silently approached the gamekeeper's cabin before being chased away by a hardy-looking rooster. Drained of physical energy, they collapsed beneath a tree not far from the lake. Lily suggested swimming until Alice told them of a large squid that lurked beneath the water. The idea was immediately forgotten.

Almost dozing, Lily observed a small rabbit hop towards a towering willow located further down the lake edge. It inched forward, occasionally sniffing for a cowslip or other delectable plants. How cute, she thought, watching it approach the willow.

A resounding boom shattered the silence. The rabbit darted off in the opposite direction, its white tail flashing.

Lily screamed, bolting upright.

"What, what?" the others asked, but Lily could only gesture wildly at the willow.

Alice and Helen screamed as well, and they took off for the castle, not breathing until the heavy oak doors were securely shut behind him.

"Oh. My. God," Lily panted. "What was that?"

"The tree - its branches were moving," Helen said. "That was...Alice, do you know what it is?"

"Purebloods don't know everything," she shrugged.

"Unless you're James, of course," Lily mocked, eliciting laughter from Alice.

"Maybe we can look it up in the library," Helen suggested.

Keeping their voices low, they skimmed through the library's plant identification book until they came across the moving graphic of a very violent tree, very akin to the one that stood on the grounds.

"It's a Whomping Willow. 'A very dangerous species. Limited number to be found in Wales. Not to be approached without proper protection,'" Lily read. " 'Will attempt to crush anything that touches it. Can be frozen by pressing a significant-looking root near its base.'"

"That's some crazy tree," Alice muttered.

"You said it was found in Wales?" Helen asked.

Lily nodded. "That's what it said. But...but we're in Scotland!"

"Exactly," Alice said. "We are in Scotland, the Whomping Willow's from Wales, so what's it doing here?"

Thankfully, they didn't come across any other sort of murderous plant for the rest of the weekend. It wasn't until Monday evening until anything of significance happened. Lily and Remus sat alone in the Great Hall, finishing their dinner, when James ran into the hall, his hair sticking up at odd angles.

"You're going to be late! Eat faster!" he urged.

"Late for what?" they asked.

"Flying lessons, you dolts! Oh, hurry up, already."

Almost gagging on her food, Lily crammed what was on her plate down her throat and followed James as he led them out onto the grounds. Remus, panting for air, arrived just a second after they did. Lily noted the class had already split into its customary two groups: the Gryffindors and the Slytherins.

"Look, Lily." James pointed to a great edifice standing only a hundred feet away. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"What is?"

"The Quidditch pitch!"

The way James talked about it, it might as well have been a shrine, but all that Lily could see were six towering hoops, three located on each end, and raised stands encircling the entire field.

"What's so special about it?" she asked.

" 'What's so special about it?'" James exclaimed, looking mortally offended. "It's Quidditch, Lily. Quidditch." He walked over to a heap of rather worn broomsticks and selected one, running his hand along the handle, closing his eyes. Mounting it, he gazed up and the sky and prepared to kick -

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing?" someone shrieked. "Get off that broomstick! Accio!"

The broomstick flew out of James's hands and he tumbled to the ground, landing facedown with an umph. Rolling over and finding his footing, he dusted off his robes and glared at the middle-aged witch, who was now holding his broomstick in her outstretched hand.

"I wasn't going to fly with it, anyway," he spat.

"All the same, I can't have you setting a bad example."

"But I know how to fly."

"Rules are rules, my boy," she said simply. "Now, here, Mr. Potter, you may have your broomstick back. No flying, remember? The rest of you, my name is Madam Hooch, and I will be your flying instructor this year. Please grab one from the pile over there. Stand in a spot where there is ample room and place your broom on your right side. Then wait for further instructions."

A mob formed by the broomsticks, everyone jostling to find the least battered one. Reaching for the nearest one, Lily was hit repeatedly over the head in her struggled. Temper rising, she extricated herself from the group and stood to the side while waiting for most of the fighting to stop. Her nose wrinkled distastefully as she examined her own broomstick. The handle was badly chiseled; the twigs were completely awry. She doubted she would be able to fly on something as poorly constructed as that.

"Lily, over here," Remus said, motioning to an empty space to his right.

After a terse set of directions, Madam Hooch set them to work. Everyone mounted their brooms, gripped it in accordance, and waited as Madam Hooch made her way to each student, inspecting their positioning on the broom. James, of course, was extolled as being "perfect," and he sat smugly on his broomstick, holding his chin up. Lily glowered angrily at him while her grip was being corrected. James, seeing that Madam Hooch was no longer paying attention to him, started bouncing up and down on his broom, floating a bit upward before forcing his broom back down. As he played around with his broomstick, though, Lily saw him slyly take out his wand. A small poof and a flash of light came from the tip, and suddenly, the wand was gone, hidden in his pocket. Groaning, Lily wondered if she would ever have a normal class again.

"All right, now that we have that fixed," Madam Hooch continued briskly, "we now come to flying itself. It is a ridiculously simply concept: you simply direct the broom in whatever direction you wish to go in. Leaning forward will increase your speed, while leaning backward will decrease your speed. The challenge of flying lies in its subtleties. For example, how far right can you lean while still turning and not falling off? That is what separates the excellent flier from the average flier. Would anyone like to demonstrate?"

Not surprising anyone, James's hand was the first in the air, and he was practically salivating at the chance to show off his flying prowess.

"Snape here could do it. He's a better flier than Potter any day," a Slytherin chuckled, shoving the first year forward. "Go on, you know you can."

James and Snape exchanged glances. Clearly, they were prepared to take their animosity beyond Potions class.

"You there," Madam Hooch called out, "the Slytherin. Come here." Averting her eyes from the ground for a split second, Lily was shocked to see ...well, James looked content, despite having to witness an inexperienced Slytherin, also his growing rival, picked over him. The image didn't satisfy her. Then she thought of his wand and the light. "Right, now mount your broom and grip it tight. Kick lightly off the ground so that you're hovering, oh, a good few feet above the ground. Then fly a circle around the courtyard and come back here."

Though his face was drawn and pallid, Snape swung one leg on the other side of the broomstick and grasped the handle. Haunches coiled back, he pushed himself into the air. Lily quickly looked from Snape to the ground. He really is flying, she thought, flabbergasted.

But without warning, his arms began to shake violently and he lost his greasy little smirk, looking terrified. Abandoning the proper grip, he pulled his body flat alongside the handle, his entire form now vibrating.

"W-w-w-w-hat's hap-p-p-ening?" he stuttered through chattering teeth as the broom started moving up and down in a sharp rapid motion.

"Get - get off the broom!" Madam Hooch yelled, but she was as clueless as Snape.

But Snape continued to hug himself tightly to the broom, clinging on for dear life. The broom let out a whinnying neigh and begin undulating wildly, trying to buck off its owner. The entire courtyard broke out in rowdy laughter, both Gryffindor and Slytherin alike, as the horse-broom's movements grew crazier and more unpredictable. James was on all fours, banging on the ground, blithe tears trailing down his face. Lily was having difficultly breathing through her laughs, and when she sincerely tried to stop, they redoubled and she laughed all the harder.

With a crash, Snape was finally thrown to the ground, the broom still bucking off its invisible rider. Face set, Snape leaped at the broom and tried to mount it, only be to thrown off again. He landed flat on his back, and the broom throttled around the courtyard. Madam Hooch whipped out her wand and yelled, "Finite!" With one last neigh, it rolled to the ground, limp.

The laughter intensified as Madam Hooch helped him hobble to his feet; Snape looked quite ashen. It was only when she pointed her wand did the class fall silent. Snape scuttled back to the Slytherins, hiding in the very back.

"Whoever is responsible for this," she threatened, emphasizing each word with her wand, "will be sorely punished. Anyone with any information should report it to me as soon as possible. Class is dismissed."

Everyone began to file past Lily to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the piercing-eyed Madam Hooch, but Lily was rooted to the ground, guilt swelling in her. She had been the only one to see James jinx the broom, and she knew it was her moral obligation to tell...but she didn't want to get James in trouble.

"Get out of my way, Mudblood," Snape growled, pushing her off to the side.

Or maybe I won't tell, Lily thought coolly as she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, already thinking of the homework awaiting her.

Of all the many facets of Hogwarts life, perhaps it was the academics that she felt most ill at ease with. Often, she wondered how that came to be because she had once considered it the base of her happiness, simply being in the company of books and the written word. But she wasn't happy, not that happy where one feels invincible and impervious to adversity.

Still, she tried to tell herself, one week's experience with magic was too little to judge from. Lily knew she had the ability and the power; the difficulty lied in harnessing the magic within in, to direct it through charms and spells and potions. The theory made perfect sense to her, but when it came to picking up a wand, her mind was blank.

"I told you reading isn't the best way to go," James teased her after Charms the day of the Quidditch tryouts, acting oblivious to Lily's stormy expression.

"James, shut it," Remus complained.

"Just getting myself ready for - "

" - Quidditch. Everyone already knows, James," Sirius said, coming up from behind. "You've been talking about nothing else since term started."

"That's not true! I've talked about loads of other things, like...like...oh, damn, I can't remember. Who cares, anyway? There are only two things in life: Quidditch and everything else."

"I'm glad the tryouts are today. Wanna know why? We won't have to hear about Quidditch for the rest of the year."

"Sirius, are you trying to say that I won't make the team?"

"Maybe I am," Sirius commented. "Seriously, mate, what'll you do if you don't get called back for more further tryouts?"

"I'll figure it out when that happens...if it happens," he corrected himself.

Double Defense Against the Dark Arts and the remainder of the afternoon breezed by with unnatural speed. Professor Wesleyan had assigned them to do some group reading; predictably enough, no reading was being done. Lily, working with Alice and Remus, sat, entranced, while Alice spoke of Hogsmeade, which she had visited with her family a few years back.

"My favorite shop was Honeydukes," she said, a glow tingling in her cheeks. "Oh, you should see it - there are mountains of chocolate and all these different candies I had never even heard of before. I think I bought a bit of it all and ate it right after leaving the shop, and if I'm not mistaken, I threw up that night."

Lily giggled merrily. "I'd love to visit," she said.

"I know that in third year, we're allowed to visit while at school."

"That's exciting," Remus said, as enraptured by Alice's words as Lily.

"You know what? I should invite you two over to my house over the summer. Then me mam could take us all to Hogsmeade!"

"Sounds like a good idea," Lily sighed, looking out of a window as if expecting the cozy village and its twinkling lights to appear before her.

At dinner, James could hardly hold a fork properly. It turned out that wasn't much of a problem, as he couldn't eat at all. A thin sheen of sweat formed on his face, and he loosened his robe, complaining that it was too hot.

"We'll all come down to the pitch to watch," Sirius said, clapping a hand on James's shoulder.

"Sorry, I've got a Herbology essay to finish," Lily began. Sirius gave her an imploring look and then nudged his head in James's direction, who had just tipped over his goblet. "But I'm sure I can finish it some other time!" she corrected, inwardly wondering how she would get it done; Herbology would be tomorrow's first class.

"Yeah, James, we're all coming," Remus guaranteed, backed up by Alice's fervent nods.

"Thanks," he croaked, his knife clattering to the floor.

Lily felt someone tapping her shoulder. Looking behind her, she saw Peter standing there, his hands clasped dutifully behind his back.

"Hi, Peter," she said, keeping her voice low. "What d'you need?"

"I was hoping that you...that you might be able to help me with that essay on the plant thing..."

"The Herbology essay?" Lily tried to clarify.

"Yeah, that one! Unless...unless you're already done, of course."

"I'd love to help, Peter, but I'm going to be watching James's Quidditch tryouts tonight. I won't be in the common room."

"How're you going to get it done?"

"I'll - uh - work on it when I'm watching?" she improvised.

"Then can I come with you?" he asked, his eyes glowing.

"I think you should ask James, not me. He's a little bit - touchy about the whole thing, if you know what I mean."

The daylight was fading away into dark hues of violet as the six Gryffindor first-years strolled down to the stadium, Lily and Peter lugging their Herbology books in their bags. To be truthful, Lily hadn't wanted Peter to tag along. Working alone had always produced the best results for her, and while she did consider Peter a good person, he registered as incompetent in her mind. James had let the decision lie with her. Skeptical as to how they would compromise their different intellectual capabilities, Lily threw caution to the winds and acquiesced to letting Peter work with her.

They reached the stadium entrance and went their separate ways. Sirius bid James a farewell and good luck, and James, in an attempt to appear confident, straightened his shoulders, nodded brazenly, and walked into the locker room, his Quidditch equipment getting caught in the door. Laughter rang from within the locker room. The door inched open and James stuck his head out.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly, pulling his equipment in.

"Look," Alice pointed out, running her finger down a pinned-up sheet of parchment, "they've got a list of open positions listed for the Gryffindor team. Sirius, do you know what position James is trying out for?"

"Chaser. What, they don't have an opening for it?"

"No, they do. It's just - " Alice grimaced " - there's only one spot for a new Chaser. It means he'll have to be almost perfect."

"He could always be a reserve..." Peter piped up from the back.

"And you think that James would settle for that?" Sirius barked, wide-eyed.

"It was - it was just an idea!" Peter squeaked, cowering behind Lily.

"Sirius, be nice," Lily said, regretting more than ever her decision to bring Peter. "Let's go up to the stands. And try not to fight on the way, please. You'll give everyone a headache."

Darkness was quickly descending on Hogwarts, and Lily found that she couldn't discern a thing written in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

"I should've brought my candle," Lily said.

"You could use your wand," Sirius condescended. "You are a witch, remember?"

"Well, I don't know any spell to create light!" she sputtered, flustered.

"Lumos, Lily. I thought everyone knew that."

She paid no heed to Sirius's sarcasm but took his advice and muttered, "Lumos." An orb of light surrounded the tip of her wand. Flipping the pages to Chapter Two ("Cultivating Methods"), Lily immersed herself in the most effective ways of balancing soil pH and nutrient content, intermittingly writing something on the parchment.

"Wait, Lily, I can't see," Peter complained, leaning this way and that.

"You have your own book, Peter," she groaned, now regretting her decision altogether to come and watch James play a sport she knew practically nothing about.

"Let me see your essay."

"Are you joking? I'm not letting you or anyone copy!"

"Lily, please?" he cajoled, pouting.

She paused and remembered their early-morning conversation from a week ago. "First, try and write it yourself, okay? If you have trouble with anything, then I might let you see mine."

"Oy, there's James!" Sirius exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted, "GOOD LUCK, POTTER!" down to the field; a figure with messy hair waved back.

In spite of determination to get her work completed, Lily set aside the Herbology assignment and observed the Quidditch tryouts, intrigued. James was up in the air on a none-too-steady school broomstick, tossing a football-like object around. She was heartened to see that he dropped none of his catches, which she assumed was the point. He had made a few spectacular ones, actually, including one where launched himself a few feet in the air, caught it, and landed back on the broomstick with a minimal amount of bobbling, making it seem like a practiced and finessed maneuver. Sirius roared approvingly particularly loud after that one.

Next, they lined the prospective Chasers at around midfield.

"What are they doing now?" Lily asked.

"Taking shots on goal," Sirius replied automatically, his dark eyes focused on the pitch.

James only made three out of five, but those that found their way around the Keeper were those of an athlete who knows his sport intimately. As James soared to the ground and dismounted, great cheers echoed through the mostly empty stadium.

"Let's go!" Sirius urged, tripping across the stands to be the first to see James.

James exited the locker room, his Quidditch equipment trailing behind him, at the same moment Sirius came down from the stands, and they both ran out onto the grounds, arms raised, great victorious whoops issuing from their mouths.

"That was the bloodiest, most brilliant thing I've ever done!" James breathed with difficulty.

"You had to make the team! For sure!"

"Well," James said, the elation on his face lessening a little, "that was just the first day, but I'm bound to be called back for more tryouts! I can see it now: I've just scored my twentieth goal of the game, everyone's cheering my name - "

"You arrogant little berk," Sirius joked, slapping James on the back.

"Right," Lily huffed, catching up to the celebrating pair, "now that your Quidditch is over and done with, it's time I get this essay done."