Whimsical {James Potter}

Chapter 7: The Try-Hard

Chapter 7: The Try-Hard

"Are you going to be at try-outs?"

"Haven't decided."

"You should. You can watch me, and I'll be able to see you in the stands."

There's a short pause before Lily's sharp and inevitable response comes. "Why would I ever want to watch you, Potter? To see you do nothing but show off for two hours? Honestly, it's more boring than Binn's class."

Cressida's cheek presses into her fist, teeth digging into her lips as she sits at the Gryffindor table facing Sirius who sits on her right. The conversation is happening to her left just a few meters down. The three of them have their Quidditch robes on, alike a few others spread over the table.

Sirius is in a very similar position, a leg on either side of the long chair, watching the interaction over her shoulder. "How does Lily look?" she questions.

Sirius purses his lips, tipping his head from side to side. "No tighter than usual," he concludes. He leans closer to her ear. "She took points off our own house the other day when Kennon was causing a mess in the library."

Cressida sips her apple juice. "That's what prefects are supposed to do," she points out. Lily is well known to be kind and fair, a quality that was most certainly helpful in gaining her position as a prefect. And she is certainly one of the most likely to become Head Girl. "Be fair and just," she recites McGonagall's words in a pompous manner. "Honestly, I don't know why James keeps trying for her. You'd think he would go for someone who actually thinks he's a decent person."

Sirius makes a subtle expression of agreement, but it changes to a loose grin as James sits back down opposite them, loading up his plate. "How'd it go, mate?"

"She's busy," he answers simply. "But the games are more important anyway."

Cressida plants an easy-going grin. "Exactly."

Their morning passes over easily; the jitters or try-outs making her bounce her knees, but the feeling is welcome. It's the same one Cressida feels before each game, the butterflies that sharpen her focus and make her feel... alive.

Nothing bothers the morning of tactic discussion until a lone figure struts into the Great Hall, donned in the same Quidditch uniform as the rest of them. James is the first to notice. He scoffs, rolling his eyes but keeps his attention forward. Cressida and Sirius peek over, practically mimicking James at the realisation.

Colton Andrews, another fifth-year Gryffindor with an attitude that the Slytherins think the Gryffindors all have. "What the hell does he think he's doing?" James asserts.

"I think he intends to try-out," Sirius offers, though highly unneeded. Both James and Cressida give him a quick glare. "James is blind," he defends.

James points to his face where the frames are still securely planted. "I'm wearing my glasses. I can see perfectly."

Cressida shuffles in her seat, dragging her eyes away from Andrews. "He's looking right at me," she says, trying not to move her lips. The boys halt their argument, and unlike Cressida, stare right at the approaching Gryffindor until he stands right over them. His blonde curls form a halo around his head with a tan that doesn't match the skin below his collar. The worst part about him is the chilling blue eyes that remind her of rough seawater through a storm.

"Hawthorne, trying-out this year?"

Cressida slowly looks back up, planting on a smile she knows looks fake. "Why wouldn't I be?" A fair question, she thinks. Having been on the team for three years in a row, Cressida is in a place where one would expect her to carry out the position of keeper until graduation where a new and upcoming student would replace her just as she had done. A good player is hardly ever replaced. You'd have to be cockier than James and Sirius combined to try-out for a position of a well-versed player.