roll with it, [regulus]

[JAMES IGNOTUS POTTER]

James was quidditch captain. Finally. For the past three years he had practically been captain anyway since his ideas on the field had been so much better than everyone else that had been in charge. But there was some stupid rule about having to at least be a sixth year before they put you in charge of a sports team and so Prongs had had to wait his turn. But now he was in control and he was going to make his team unstoppable. That was the plan anyway. He had run his team through the mill tonight and he was convinced they were ready for the first match of the season. A little bit of tweaking was still needed but overall he was confident that they were a force to be reckoned with.

The team had all trudged back to the castle to shower and change and probably get on with homework or maybe to fall straight to sleep since he had worked them pretty hard. But James was a perfectionist and honestly, a little more competitive than what was probably healthy and so he stayed in the changing room, going over his tactics again and again. Everything was thought out, every member had their own colour, their own opposition team member to mark, James had profiles on every quidditch player at Hogwarts, had marked out their strengths and weaknesses he had a plot to take on every house and if his team performed the way he knew that they could then they would be champs for sure.

The thought made his heart soar as he stepped back onto the quidditch pitch, mounted his broom and took off again ready to train some more. Really he should finish off the transfiguration essay that was due in tomorrow but it was his best subject so he was pretty sure he could knock something half decent out to satisfy McGonagall. Besides the excuse ‘Quidditch practice has been wearing me down’ usually swung pretty well with his head of house, she wanted Gryffindor to win almost as much as he did. He practised his shooting and yes, he was big-headed enough to practice celebrating his goals as well for a good hour longer zooming around the pitch until his limbs ached and he could take no more. It was beginning to get dark now but he could’ve had an extra hour or two if he had the energy. He figured maybe a stop to munch on some Honeydukes chocolate and take on some water for fifteen minutes would mean he could carry on for a little while longer.

He sat on the bench just to the left of changing room doors, guzzling from the bottle of water he had taken to practice with him, his broomstick hovering obediently at his side. He sat, smiling contently, feeling very pleased with himself and with life on a whole. Everything seemed to be going his way lately, and sure, he’d trade his own happiness in order for his friends to feel a little stronger or at ease but he wasn’t about to complain about his own good fortune. A nice breeze, cooling him down pleasantly swept through the stadium just as the door to the pitch creaked open and James turned his head to see who it was disturbing his peace.


[ Hope this is okay, James wanted to be here! & I'll get better, I promise. shall make it pretty later ]