The Marauders: Year Four

The Future Mr. Evans

The Future Mr. Evans

True to her word, Lily really had quit the Quidditch team, and she really did let Sirius use her broom. James's new broom easily outflew it still, but it was a newer model than Sirius's old broom had been so Sirius felt like he was moving faster than the wind itself. He clutched the handle as they practiced and moved through try-outs.

Halfway through try-outs, when the Beaters were up and Sirius was flying about the pitch, James looked up to the stands and saw Lily sitting on one of the bleacher benches with Annalee and a couple of first year muggle-born girls who'd wanted to find out more about Quidditch. He grinned and, tossing his uniform cape over his shoulders dramatically, he jumped on his broom and flew over until he was hovering right above them... and flipped so that he was hanging from his broom like a monkey in a tree, his knees hooked about the broomstick.

Annalee quickly powdered her nose with a little compact as he swung 'round, he couldn't help but notice, and she grinned up at him. Seemed that their horrible Valentine tea hadn't been enough to put her off him entirely.

"'Ello Evans," he said, smirking as his glasses skewed and the cape fell from his shoulders awkwardly, almost hitting Lily's face as it flopped. "Sorry." He swept the came into a bundle in the crook of one of his arms, staying upside-down. "How's the observation of the team going? Do you reckon I stand a chance?" He was grinning, being facetious.

"Oh bugger off Potter," Lily said, waving her hand.

"Is this your boyfriend?" asked one of the first years.

"Yes," James answered.

"No," Lily said pointedly, glaring at James.

James looked at the first year, "I am, she just doesn't know it yet. Future Mr. Evans, glad to meet you." He held out his hand, dropping the cape again, and this time the edge of it did catch the end of Lily's nose and she glowered at him as the first year giggled and shook his hand. "I'm taking her name because I dunno what else I'd ever call her if she wasn't named Evans." He looked her over, "Though you do look like somebody who'd make a good Potter. What do you think, Love? My name or yours?"

"Bugger off. I mean it."

James laughed and looked at the first years, "You lot play quidditch before?"

"We're muggle-borns," answered one of them.

"Well," James said, "So's Evans, and you should've seen her last year and the year before. Absolutely brilliant player. It's a travesty she's sitting on the benches."

"Potter, go back to the pitch before Andy Woodhouse tosses you out for not paying attention."

"What's there to pay attention to? It's the beaters try-out. Obviously it's Frank Longbottom and Sirius Black." James rolled his eyes.

"Is Sirius Black the one with the gorgeous hair?" asked one of the girl years dreamily.

"Bloody hell, don't ever let him hear you say that," James said, "He pays enough attention to it already without having it been labelled gorgeous." James rolled his eyes.

They giggled conspirationally.

"He's also spoken for," Lily said.

"Not technically," James replied, glancing across the way to where Remus and Peter were sitting. Remus was on the edge of his seat, staring intently across the pitch with wide eyes, holding a Gryffindor banner, as Sirius flew through a bludger-laden obstacle course below, waving his beater's bat.