Seven

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The next few weeks were largely uneventful. Classes were attended, homework was done, Quidditch practice was held. The time went by quickly and soon enough it was time for the first Quidditch game. James was a little more annoying than normal, hiding his nervousness with arrogance. He simply stated that they were going to win. He was confident in that fact. Or, he seemed confident in that fact. Inside, he was a mess. He was a chaser, so everyone depended on him. It tore him apart as the days came closer to the first game. He hardly slept, and when he did, he was ridden with nightmares about losing and his team hating him. The bags under his eyes were proof enough.

Currently, it was 4 AM on the day of the first match. The castle was quiet. Everyone was sleeping. Well, almost everyone. A certain James Potter was out on the Quidditch Pitch, practicing. Anxiety was flowing through his veins at a fast pace. The only place where he felt somewhat calm at all was the air. On his broom, James flew through the air. His hair was a mess and his face was red. The prickles on his skin were evidence enough of the cool temperature. All around him, the clouds hung low and the grass glistened with dew. As he flew, his thoughts left his brain and he was able to concentrate on the matter at hand: practicing. He circled the Pitch countless times, gliding up and down.

Finally, at 5:30, James came to his senses and stopped. The sun was beginning to shine on the horizon, which meant it was time for breakfast. He wasn't sure if he would be able to eat at all, but he would certainly try. As he made his way to the Gryffindor Tower, the air around him dropped in temperature. The clouds became more evident, covering the sky. It smelled of rain, James thought. That wasn't good. But they had trained in the rain, so it wouldn't be a total disaster.

When James entered his dormitory room, no one was awake, not even Sirius. James sighed to himself and went to get ready before dealing with his friends. After a shower and a change of clothes, James woke Sirius. "Hey, Siri. Rise and shine."

The boy only groaned in response. He didn't want to get up, it was early. The sun wasn't even shining into their room yet. But with a final shake from James, he decided trying to sleep wasn't worth it. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"What the fuck justified you waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn?" Sirius asked. He cussed mainly when he was angry or sleepy, whenever he didn't have a filter. It caused James to laugh, seeing his 11-year-old friend spewing curses as his uncle might've.

"Quidditch day," James said simply, smiling as Sirius realized what day it was. The look of realization and anxiety that crossed his face was enough to make James feel better. Sirius hopped out of and changed with lightning speed. Within a matter of a few minutes, Sirius and James were waking up the others. They wouldn't have bothered, but Remus and Peter made it clear they wanted to be there for the two.

Soon enough, the four were walking the corridors on their way to breakfast. James and Sirius stayed quiet, thinking about the day ahead of them. Of course, they were playing Ravenclaw, and Ravenclaw was relatively easy to beat. But that didn't do much to ease their nerves. Sirius, being the new Keeper, had the same feeling of dread and responsibility that James did. Both of their jobs counted on the game. They hoped they were good enough to win.

"You'll both do great," Remus assured them as if reading their minds. In reality, he just noticed their concerned expressions and guessed.

"Yeah. I've watched you practice, you're both great!" Peter continued, smiling with enough intensity to improve the other two's moods a little. For the rest of the morning, though. James and Sirius continued to stay silent.

"Alright, we're going to head to the Pitch. Get some practice in before we have to report to the locker room." Sirius told his friends when they finished breakfast. Remus and Peter waved them off and headed back to the common room to wait for the game to start.

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