I'll be Beating You!

Dearest Jack,

If you will remember a couple weeks back, I extended an invitation for you to come and join me for Quidditch practice with the Falmouth Falcons. Well, gal, here's your chance! I talked to our coach, and he said it was fine with him as long as you didn't interfere with practice. I assured him that if he saw you fly, he would realize the stupidity of those words. So, if you are still interested in playing some real Quidditch, and getting your mind out of that tiresome muddle you call a job, send me a note with a day that would be good for you back with Tobias. We are practicing every morning from 7am to 9am, then again in the evening from 6pm to 8pm until further notice. Coach wasn't impressed with our last performance...neither was I for that matter. I eagerly await your reply, m'lady.

xoxo,
James

James held the parchment up at arm's length, re-reading what he had wrote with a small mischievous smile on his face. It was just cheeky enough to ruffle Jack's feathers. He was sure that she'd especially appreciated the kisses and hugs at the bottom of the letter. He would have to be on guard for a 'stray' beater if she decided to play with him and his team, though.

Absent-mindedly rubbing the back of his head as he imagined the crunch of bludger meeting skull, James rolled up the letter and called for Tobias. The huge, black Blakiston's Fish Owl flew from his perch, his wings seeming to fill the room as he soared to land on the edge of James' writing desk. Tobias patiently stuck out his leg, keeping still as James attached the parchment. James then offered his arm for the bird, and gave him a helpful lift out the window. Tobias flapped twice before catching a small thermal and soaring into the air.

The strange instinct of a wizard's owl guided Tobias to a small window many miles from his home of Godric's Hollow. Straining his wings to keep himself at a hover, Tobias began to peck at the window, his instinct insisting that this was the place.

((No idea where Jack actually lives, so there ya have it, lol))

Jack was finally stumbling home. She had just contacted Sawyer Weasley- she was done. She was calling in the big guns. Sawyer would take over and regulate everything and Jack would be left to... what? Reclaim her life? She wasn't sure what that entailed, with Nemo gone, with her back turned from the Order and her feet pointed unwillingly towards the Death Eaters... Jack pretty much considered her life over. Why take the department down too?

Her team was going to make this very hard for her.

She settled, alone, in her eerily quiet house. Most nights, her day with Nemo didn't end until three. They'd drink, watch a movie, get hungry and go through a drive thru, come back, get in some sort of war involving a different type of food each night, and then she would declare it bed time. But it was ten o'clock and there was nothing to do. Jack tramped upstairs, towards her room.

When she arrived, there was an owl tapping on her window. She hurried over to it, eager for any news, and when she let it in, she found it was from James Potter. She sighed, but brought the owl in, scrounging up some owl treats and a cup of water. She read the letter, unable to keep the smirk off her face as she did. She quickly wrote her response and tied it to the owl's leg, letting him loose once again. Her response was short, and read:

James

Tell you coach to prepare a pep talk for afterwards- your Beaters will need it.

Also. Watch out. My bat has been a bit testy lately. It has a tendency to swing towards Seekers.

~Jack

With this small consolation, she eased herself into sleep.


Five in the morning and Jack awoke, quickly getting into her work out routine. A quick run around the block, her core work out, curling some weights, etcetera. She showered and dressed in her old Quidditch practice clothes- black jeans, a Gryffindor Quidditch t-shirt, and leather fingerless gloves. She put her helmet, bat, and other supplies into her Quidditch duffel bag.

She walked into her broomcloset. There was her new Firebolt... and her old Comet 360. With a smirk, she grabbed the Comet.


When six forty five rolled around, Jack had already worked up a sweat on the pitch. She had been flying for about thirty minutes, and had been whacking enchanted rocks to and fro across the pitch with her bat. She was ready.

A high, shrill whistle erupted on the bedstand, a mere foot away from where James' head was resting. Grunting, James swung his hand out, slapping it down on the table as he groped for the item emitting the piercing noise. Feeling the long bit of hard wood beneath his hand, James snatched his wand and pointed it at the alarm clock, silencing it.

"6 O'clock is not a decent hour for a human being to be waking up," James thought sullenly to himself as he dragged himself out of bed, "but it seems to suit a house elf...."

James thought this last bit after witnessing Kreacher cheerfully depositing his freshly laundered Quidditch robes at the foot of his bed.

"Kreacher has your breakfast hot and ready for you, Master," the house elf croaked as he gathered up James' soiled garments from the hamper, "Be sure to arrive in the dining room before it gets cold."

James sighed, not bothering to tell the house elf that there was no need to call him Master. Only a direct order could accomplish that, and it would only upset the elf if he tried.

"Of course, Kreacher," James yawned, pulling his uniform's undershirt over his head.

After dressing, James headed to the dining room, his leather gloves stuffed in his helmet and his shin guards tied to his waist. James ate a breakfast consisting of egg, toast, and sausage before bidding Kreacher goodbye and stepping out the door.

James glanced longingly at his flying motorbike, and knew that he could probably make it in time, but it was too chilly for flying in the clouds this morning. James twisted on the spot, disappearing to the nothingness as he apparated to the stadium.

James smiled as he saw a distant form already in the air. Had to be Jack. James walked onto the pitch, putting on his gloves, then stooping to tie his shin guards where they belonged. Wasting no time, James sprung onto his Firebolt and shot into the air. He stopped a good ways from Jack, clearly remembering the letter's warning from last night. He smiled jauntily at her as he waved at her.

((lmao, I just re-read that and realized a huge literary error in the way I wrote that first paragraph. XD))

((it's all good. I'm working at about 30% right now, so I'm going to be falling apart anyway. XD ))

Jack felt good. She felt suddenly as though she were breathing correctly for the first time in what felt like months, maybe years. And perhaps it was true; one step closer to what she wished she could be doing and she suddenly felt healthy and clean and sane. And she had hardly felt one of the three, let alone all of them at once.

A figure caught her eye and she spun her broom around. James smiled and waved and she tauntingly raised her Beating bat, pretending to jerk it forward as though she was going to hit him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the enchanted rock. She spun her broom and hit the bat out, sending the rock flying away. She pulled out her wand and waved it, making all of the rocks drop.

She sped towards James. "Ready to be embarrassed?"

James feigned an over-exaggerated concern as Jack waved her bat at him, holding his hands out in front of him in a pleading motion. He gripped his broomstick tightly with his thighs as he did this. It would do not good for him to slip off his broom right in front of Jack. He would never hear the end of it.

"I dunno!" he shouted back at her, "You're an old lady now! Are you sure you still know which way the broomstick points?!"

James gripped the broom handle tightly, and shot towards Jack as well. He pulled the handle hard to the right, leaning his body far to the right as well to whip a 180, bringing himself parallel to Jack.

"You don't expect to embarrass me on that moldy old log, do you?" he teased, grinning at her.

It was good to be flying with the wild red-head again.

She sneered back at him in response to being called an old lady. Honestly, Jack felt like an old lady at times, which was an odd sensation for a nineteen year old. However, she felt more like an old man. Old women were typically regarded as sweet and warm; it was the old men who held Frisbees hostage and yelled at hooligans. This was who Jack most related to.

They pulled their brooms sideways just before impact, and Jack knee bumped against his. Now that was what she called skill. She felt a small flourish of pride and excitement. She was really flying again, flying professionally, flying well. This was what living really felt like.

"This moldy old log will leave your faux wood pipe clunking far behind in its dust," Jack informed him. "You just wait."

James laughed, glancing down at the field. Other members were beginning to show up for the practice. Too late, James realized that he hadn't forewarned them to Jack's presence.

"Boy, are they in for a surprise," James thought to himself, noticing that they were looking up at Jack curiously, wondering who the extra player was.

James motioned towards the gaggle on the ground, which now included the coach as well, all shielding their eyes from the rising morning sun as they stared up at the duo.

"Give 'em an introduction!" shouted James, grinning, hoping for a show.

Jack grinned at her friend but her attention was drawn by movement from the corner of her eye down on the pitch. The team was arriving. Jack looked down, watching them all gape up at her, wondering which of them were soon to become her close friends.

"Give 'em an introduction!"

Jack looked back at James and called, loud enough for the team to hear, "I didn't bring my fireworks though!" She hefted her bat and grabbed her wand, pointing it at the box the coach carried. She whipped her wand and it opened, releasing two Bludgers. Jack immediately zoomed after one. She met it only a few feet off the ground, a good hundred feet from the hoops.

"Center," she called, before mightily swinging the bat, sending the Bludger spinning straight into the hoop. She went for the other, planning on doing a trick she had taught herself. She reached the Bludger, quickly half circled, and spiked it into the ground, where it buried itself into the ground, unable to move.

She dismounted, standing atop the Bludger, turning to look at the team. She held out a hand to the coach. "I'm a friend of James' and I was also scouted for the season two years ago. Jack Dyllan."

For a few moments, Jack's hand hung in the air in front of the coach, as he was still gaping in astonishment at her. The bludger she had spiked into the ground was only a few feet away, still visibly struggling to free itself. This girl had talent....a lot of it.

Recovering himself, the coach snapped his mouth shut, and gripped Jack's hand.

"My word!" he exclaimed, but then became lost for words again.

"Where has she been all your life, right coach?" James laughed suddenly, landing beside the man, "This would be the one that the administration had tried so hard to get on the team a couple years back. She flew with me at Hogwarts on the Gryffindor team. Best beater since the Weasley twins, some say."

James shot Jack a wink as the coach began to look excited and a bit flustered. He continued to gape at the girl, his face reflecting what a small child feels when opening that perfect gift they had always wanted on Christmas morning. He shot James a dirty look, who was still chuckling beside him. He also noticed that quite suddenly, his own beaters were looking nervous.

"...and you refused the team?" coach finally managed to spit out, "What a gorram waste of talent! You didn't go with Puddlmore United, did you?" he asked suddenly, his face becoming stern.

Jack remained unmoved as she waited amongst the stares of the team and the coach, still and straight as a rod. Two of the Chasers were exchanging grins of excitement; one of the Beaters was slowly turning pink, and the other was glaring down at Jack. She only watched the coach.

Finally, he took her hand and she shook firmly, releasing after the handshake ended. James entered the scene and she grinned over him at his words.

The coach spoke to her and she began to answer, but he cut in. She looked offended. "You kidding me? I've been a Falmouth fan since I was twelve. I know all of your stats since 2000. No, I went to work with the Ministry to fulfill my civic duty," she said, looking a tad grave. She screwed a smile onto her face. "I have completed that and was wondering if you were still scouting Beaters."