✓ SHE'S A SNITCH | james sirius potter

Chapter 6

6 - HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF

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THE Hufflepuff quidditch team has been absolutely exhausted. After tryouts, Thalia had been booking the Quidditch pitch 5 days a week for 3 hour practices. Since it was Thalia's last year and seeing that she wouldn't be playing Quidditch as often in the future due to Auror training-which she already had been accepted into the academy earlier that summer break-she wanted to win the Quidditch cup and have her last few fun and memorable moments of it before she had to let it go.

She had called off their practice early to take a few moments to herself and relax as she flew around the quidditch pitch aimlessly to clear her head.

She loved quidditch, yes. The sport was extremely thrilling and rip-roaring, but Thalia mainly loved quidditch because of how it made her feel. She loved the feeling of the wind in her hair-blowing her hair all over the place, her robes whipping in the wind, and the cold gusts of wind numbing her cheeks as they turned slightly rosy from the cold as she zoomed around completely care-free as if nothing else mattered in the world.

And of course, Thalia's relaxation was interrupted by someone whom she had been trying to avoid ever since their little incident in the broom closet.

James Potter.

Of course, Thalia wanted to avoid the obnoxious Gryffindor. He totally went out of line that day, and it made Thalia absolutely furious, yes, but she couldn't stop thinking about what he said, and, well, how he made her feel.

Sure, his words ringed in her head constantly, but what made her subtly glance at him every now and then when he wasn't looking wasn't because of what he said, but what he did in that broom closet.

Her back shivered every time she thought about his enchanting low raspy voice whispering in her ear, his mouth dangerously close to her neck. Her stomach fluttered when she thought about how tightly his hands gripped her waist, and she low-key wished his hands found their way there again.

Did she like him? No. Absolutely not. Maybe she just longed for his touch? Maybe she was just overthinking the situation. Maybe she just wished someone could hold her that way and make her stomach flutter like he caused her to.

The fact was that Thalia was 17, but she has never even had her first kiss, liked anyone, or even had a boyfriend, so maybe now that she was set to become an auror, she could maybe find someone?

"Hey Scamander!" James called, clutching his broom. "Mind if I join you?"

"I do mind, actually," Thalia replied, briskly.

"Eh, I don't care." James shrugged as he shot up into the air to join the blonde.

He loved the way her silky blonde locks tossed around in the wind as she soared across the quidditch pitch. She looked incredibly elegant on a broomstick, as her broom darted around. And did he mention that she looked terribly sexy in Quidditch robes?

"Go away, Potter." Thalia said coldly.

"Why so tense, Scamander? Was it what I said the other day?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"Not at all." Thalia replied simply.

"Whatever you say, babe," James winked as her hovered himself over next to Thalia who glared at him before zooming away from him. "Hey! Look, okay-I'm sorry!"

Thalia halted her broomstick and turned around as James caught up with her. "Did you just apologize?"

"Y-Yeah... I did."

Thalia scoffed. "Never would I have thought that I'd live to see the day that James Potter is apologizing for something that he did."

"Look, okay. I know it was wrong of me to do what I did, but it kinda hurts when you're giving me the cold-shoulder you know? I mean we are good f-friends, yeah?" James grimaced when he managed to stutter out the word 'friends' as he definitely wished it were something more.

"You may be an arrogant-toerag, Potter, but yes, we are friends. And thank you for apologizing. It was very kind and mature of you to do so."

James scowled at the word 'friends' again, but quickly covered it up. "Yeah." He managed to breathe out.

"And don't call me your 'Babe' again, thank you very much."

"But you are my babe!"

"In your dreams Potter!"

Headmistress McGonagall smiled as she barely managed to make out the two flying around in the air together from the quidditch pitch that was so far away from her office; but she would recognize the two anywhere. She smiled to herself as they both reminded her, again, of the two students whom she loved and missed so dearly, yet lost such a long time ago.

She couldn't help but feel nostalgic from the memories she once used to have of James Potter and Lily Evans.

Sure, their love stories aren't the same-and would never be the same, but, well, history likes to repeat itself in the oddest, yet most subtle ways possible.