"TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —" [match thread!]

Saturday 9th October, 1976. 12:30pm

The Library had been quiet after breakfast, which had hardly surprised Lily. With a match like today’s, nobody was thinking about classes and studying. Nobody except the Head Girl, anyway, and a few other students in the school minority with absolutely no interest in Quidditch. Still, as exited as the redhead was to watch the first game of the year, her studies had always come first, and today was no different. There was an assignment for Arithmancy due in on Monday morning, and she had almost finished it. Never a fan of working on a Sunday, she’d set herself the task of finishing between breakfast and the match, something her perfectionism in academia was making hard to accomplish. The end of her Muggle pencil had teeth marks where she’d chewed on it in thought (she’d long since learned not to write drafts with a quill, lest she end up with a mouthful of feather fluff). Her eyes kept glancing up to the clock above the librarian’s desk, warily keeping an eye on the time. After making a point of being at breakfast and enduring the awkwardness as everyone realised Lily Evans and James Potter were actually on speaking terms for the first time in seven years, she was not about to miss the start of the game.

She had just dotted the full-stop at the end of her final sentence as she heard a racket from outside. The groups of students, she realised, running through the hallways to get to the Grounds in time. She shut her books quickly, sending them floating back to their places with a flourish of her wand, and jammed the parchment roughly into her bag, which she quickly disposed of behind Madame Pince’s desk. She’d done it countless times, being one of the librarian’s favourites in the school, and would come by to pick it up later. For now, there were other matters to attend to.

Lily followed the crowds as they moved like a river to the entrance hall and out of the massive oak doors into the castle Grounds. She could see looking up that the stands were already filling up with students. Of course, as Head Girl she had the choice of a seat in the professor’s box, but it didn’t overly appeal to her. At studious and well-behaved as she was, Lily enjoyed the atmosphere of a match more now she was actually in the stands, rather than watching from the very back so as not to start a fight with Sirius over bringing Severus to watch with her. He’d never been won over by the sport, and she’d had to force him along every time. He’d probably feel ill at the sight of her now, draped in red and gold and squeezing past the smaller first years to climb the steps for a place.

She’d been convinced she’d be several rows back as she walked out into the open stand, which wasn’t all that bad. She was tall enough to be able to see over most, luckily enough. However, at a wave her way, Lily stood on tiptoes to see Mary Macdonald shooing back some of the others, telling them to make way. Unable to stop the half-smile that tugged at her lips at her friend’s enthusiastic sweeping gestures, Lily nudged her way through the crowd to the front of the stand, a little out of breath from hurrying from the castle. She spotted a few of the others who had joined her and the team for breakfast, giving them a small nod before turning her attention to the pitch as the familiar cheers rose up, signalling the teams’ exit onto the playing field.

It would have been rude not to join it, really. And manners cost nothing in Lily’s book.

“Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!”

It was still strange to her, this feeling of being included, of being part of her House. It had taken a long time for the students who disapproved of her friendship with a Slytherin to really accept her. There had been plenty of name-calling to begin with, nothing she wasn’t used to and couldn’t deal with. However, the insults had slowly turned to reserved civility, which in turn was gradually becoming real friendship with a growing number of people. It was always most obvious in the Common Room, where she still felt uneasy joining in with some of the conversations and Slytherin-bashing that went on on a regular basis. But here, it was so much easier. Wear the colours, cheer for the right team, and that was good enough for everyone. She could hear students around her betting on the outcome, who would score, who would end up in the Hospital Wing and how long for, and made herself switch off her rule-enforcing mode for now, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waited for the game to start.

“C’mon, you self-important git,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes following as the team rose into the air, “you’d better keep up your half of the bargain or I swear you’re doing every night patrol this month”