Friendly Competition by Gmariam
Part Two: Get Set…
"Hey, toe-rag!" I heard the voice and recognized the tone”not to mention her favorite insult”before I even saw her. I stopped in mid-swoop, hanging above the Quidditch pitch on my Nimbus 1001 as Lily Evans soared up on her Cleansweep and gave me a smirk, her green eyes flashing mischievously.
Merlin, I loved ”yet hated”that look.
"Looking a bit sluggish," she observed, obviously trying to rattle me. "I think your big head is definitely slowing you down."
"'Morning, Evans," I replied as blandly as I could after a greeting like that. "You know you've been using that insult for almost three years now. Can't you find something more original?"
"I'm just pointing out the truth," she threw back.
"My Quidditch record and upcoming win in the race next weekend should finally prove it wrong, then."
"Not if I can help it," she grinned. "I've got a tutor, remember?"
I looked down and saw Jackson Robertson below us. He was talking with the sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect. She had long, blond hair and giggled a lot. I sighed: she was my trainee, and although it was going to be a challenge shaping her up, I couldn't wait to see the look on Evans's face.
"Mr. Jackson, yes," I replied. "Didn't I hit him with a Quaffle last match?"
"Only because you missed the goal," Lily replied. She glanced down and frowned. "Who is he talking to?"
"What, worried your sessions won't be one-on-one after all?" I teased, raising my eyebrows suggestively.
"That's Carin O'Connell," Lily continued, completely ignoring my remark. "What's she doing out here? I don't think she's been on a broom since first year. She fell off and broke a nail."
Oh, I couldn't wait to see the look on her face now.
Robertson and O'Connell flew up to meet us. O'Connell was a bit unsteady, and I wondered what I was getting into by agreeing to tutor her in flying. I wondered why she was even participating in a flying competition. On the other hand, the Ravenclaw git was a strong flyer, and he was fast, as well. It was possible he might be the toughest competition in the race.
As they joined us mid-air, Robertson actually had the nerve to give Lily a peck on the cheek, as if tutoring her suddenly made him her boyfriend. She blushed and looked away. I tried not to let my jaw drop, since she would have smacked me if I had tried something like that. Hoping to recover, I went for biting sarcasm.
"So that's what you two are really pairing up for," I smirked. Lily's eyes went wide, and she shook her head, obviously mortified.
Robertson put his arm around her waist, and I actually saw her shift her broom, trying to move away from him. Now it was all I could do to keep from laughing. She had asked the guy for flying lessons, and the jerk had assumed she wanted more. I could hardly stand the irony of it.
"I'm as shocked as you, Potter," he grinned, and he actually winked at me. O'Connell giggled mindlessly next to me; I wanted to retch.
"I doubt that, Robertson," I murmured, still fascinated by Lily's reaction. She was positively flaming red. It looked horrid with her hair, although it made her green eyes stand out even more.
"Jackson's just going to take me around the grounds a bit this morning," Lily stated, finally collecting herself and swerving off on her broom. "Get me up to speed with my technique."
"Oh, James is doing the same for me!" twittered O'Connell. She flipped her long, blond hair out of her face, almost losing her balance and falling off her broom. At least Lily had remembered to pull her hair back and wear decent flying clothes; O'Connell would be pushing hair out of her face all morning, if she lasted that long in her flimsy”but fashionable” skirt and top.
The look on Lily's face was worth a hundred Galleons. She appeared stunned, furious, and”dare I say it”jealous all at the same time. I will remember that face forever. I grinned at her, and I swear she growled back.
Robertson was not quite so thick as O'Connell. He watched us suspiciously as we glared at each other above the pitch. "Right, then”good luck, you two," he said abruptly, taking Lily's hand. It jolted her out of the staring match we couldn't seem to escape.
"Yes, good luck, Potter," she gritted out. And then she did that crazy thing that girls can do, which is she did a complete one-eighty and smiled sweetly at O'Connell. "You too, dear. You'll need it with him."
Well, sweet with a touch of sour thrown in.
O'Connell laughed, oblivious to anything that had just passed between the three of us. It made me cringe again, and I irrationally blamed Evans. O'Connell had only asked for my help because Lily had set the precedent and lined up her own private lessons. I had only agreed because I wanted to get back at Lily. At least she seemed bothered, even if I had to put up with a stream of mind-numbing nonsense for the morning.
Robertson took Lily off toward the black lake, while I stayed by the pitch with O'Connell. She would certainly drown herself if we started out by the water. We weren't the only ones out to practice, for more and more prefects turned up to get some flying time in before the following weekend. As I tried my best to coach O'Connell”and I did, because I had a reputation to protect, after all”I sized up the competition.
There were some good Slytherins, some exceptional Ravenclaws, and a terrific sixth-year Hufflepuff that should have been on their Quidditch team. The Gryffindor prefects were decent as well; Remus was faster than I remembered, and Ryan Sloper, the sixth-year prefect and our back-up Beater, had improved tremendously over the past few months.
I tried not to watch Lily too much, but I couldn't help it: she was far better than I had thought. I remembered our beginning flying lessons as first-years, and how awkward she had been back then. Apparently, she had warmed up to flying over six years, and I had never noticed. She was steady, confident, and fairly quick. I wondered, though, if that was because she was trying to stay away from Robertson and his wandering hands.
About mid-morning, we had a bit of a run-in with Dante Avery, the seventh-year Slytherin prefect. He hung around with Severus Snape and a crowd of dirty Slytherins who were getting more and more out of control. He was a disrespectful tosspot, and he thought about as highly of me as I did of him.
We’d never got along, and this year was no exception as he became more and more vocal about where his loyalties lay when it came to purebloods and Muggle-borns. As far as he was concerned, my family was rubbish for not joining Voldemort’s side in the war, and I was even worse for associating with Sirius Black, the biggest blood traitor at Hogwarts. Avery and his cronies were constantly picking on Muggle-borns and anyone who supported them, and it was only a matter of time before their cruel taunts went too far.
Avery was large for a flyer, but he was uncannily quick and agile. He was also ruthless on the Quidditch pitch, and I suspected the same would go for the race as well. I did not, however, anticipate him antagonizing us during practice. He deliberately cut off O’Connell, sending her into a steep dive; she barely managed to avoid crashing headfirst into the ground, but stumbled to her knees and ripped her skirt instead.
“Watch, it, Avery!” I shouted as I helped her back up and repaired her skirt. “You’ll get someone hurt!”
“Watch yourself, Potter. You’re going down next weekend, you know. You and all your Muggle-loving friends.” He sneered at O’Connell; I had forgotten that her mother was Muggle-born. As usual, my blood started to boil whenever someone went on about pureblood prejudice, and I wanted to hex him. My Head Boy badge had come with responsibility, however, so I ignored my first impulse and docked him five points instead for unsportsmanlike behavior. It felt ridiculous, but it was all I could do.
Avery narrowed his eyes at me, and I stared him down, silently daring him to start something. He veered off to resume practicing with the other Slytherins instead, throwing one last threatening look over his shoulder. O’Connell was shaken, but thanked me profusely by throwing her arms around my neck. I hardly heard her, distracted as I wondered how the ugly scene would play out at the race.
As the morning came to a close, O'Connell and I settled back to the Quidditch pitch. Everyone was starting to clean up and head inside for lunch. Unfortunately, my trainee tripped on her landing and went stumbling right into Jackson Robertson, ripping her skirt again. Their brooms went spinning away as they landed in an undignified heap in front of Evans, who looked up at me in shock before bursting into gales of laughter. I couldn't help but join her, even though I knew it was rude.
Jackson helped O'Connell up before I got there. He apologized profusely, even though she had been the one to crash into him. O'Connell was obviously embarrassed and glared at Lily as if it were her fault. Lily coughed and stopped laughing.
"Sorry," she said, still grinning slightly. "Here, I'll get your brooms. You guys go on ahead."
Jackson and O'Connell began walking back toward the castle, Robertson still apologizing and even brushing dirt from O'Connell's back. I lagged behind, hoping to get in a dig or two with Evans. She started before I could even open my mouth.
"Brilliant catch, Potter," she murmured, picking up Robertson's Nimbus and tossing me O'Connell's school broom. "A wonder she knew which way was up."
"Ah, but she loves it when I show off," I shot back. It was shamelessly true: O'Connell had clapped and applauded all my tricks, although I had to admit it all felt a bit empty and trite.
"She'd clap for a monkey jumping rope," Lily replied, rolling her eyes. I made a monkey sound, and to my astonishment, she laughed.
"Whoa, watch yourself, Evans," I said. "You just laughed at something I said. I might get a big head."
Her sideways glance was both scathing and amused.
"Too late. So what happened with Avery?”
I frowned and looked away to where he laughing with Teresa Davis, the other seventh-year prefect from Slytherin. “Just the usual sneering, snarling, and going on about Muggles. I docked him five points for cutting off O’Connell.”
“I’m impressed you didn’t jinx him,” Lily said.
“So am I,” I replied.
“Do you think he’ll cause trouble next week?” she asked curiously.
“Of course,” I said. “I think they all will. Watch out. They’ll be after you, too, you know.”
Lily shrugged “Thanks, but I'm getting used to it. So how did Carin fly? Think she'll do okay?" she asked, changing the subject. I knew that being a Muggle-born was a sensitive issue for her, but I had to warn her. I had a bad feeling about Avery.
"No," I replied. "Her hair will get in the way and she'll end up in Hogsmeade somewhere. She'd be better off waving a starting flag."
Lily laughed again, and I smiled, strangely pleased to have made her laugh not once, but twice.
"I rather hope Robertson falls into the lake," she whispered, leaning closer. "He's like a squid, constantly grasping at things he shouldn't be grasping at."
I laughed and whispered back. "I did warn you. Want me to hex him for you?"
She seemed to think about it. "No," she said wistfully. "At least, not yet. I'd rather do it myself, anyway."
"Let me know when you do," I said. "Having been on the receiving end of your wand more times that I can count, I'd like to see some other bloke go down for once."
She grinned, and for one of the first times all year we were simply two people enjoying a laugh, and not two people dueling it out in the common room for show. It felt natural, and I didn't want it to end. As we continued toward the castle, we talked more about the race the following weekend and how we thought the competition would turn out. I even found myself giving her tips on her flying.
Unfortunately, we quickly caught up to Robertson and O'Connell, and it all evaporated as Robertson took Lily's hand and nodded rather curtly to me before pulling her away. She threw me an exasperated look over her shoulder, and I couldn't help but shake my head. I almost felt bad for her.
O'Connell watched them leave before she turned back toward me with a coy smile. "Thanks for the flying lesson, James," she practically purred. "You're great on a broom. I hope we can do it again sometime."
I stammered something about having Head Boy duties all week, but she just smiled again. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. "Maybe after the race, then," she suggested softly. She batted her eyes at me a bit before leaving for the Great Hall. I just stood there, slightly stunned, wondering what I had got myself into with Carin O'Connell.
When I finally started moving again, I caught Lily staring at me from the entrance to the Great Hall. She was still with Robertson, and she was frowning. I couldn't tell if she was upset with me, or if she was just sick of him. I looked away with a sigh, wanting more than anything to try flying with Lily Evans instead. I'd take her insults over O'Connell's suggestive flattery any day.
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