James feels like he knows what muggles mean when they say the word "magic." They don't mean spells or wands or cauldrons—well, okay, yes, sometimes they do. But in those moments when the word slips out of them, all quiet and reverent, like they can't help it, that's something different. James knows that, because it's how he feels when he's flying.
Magic.
The sun is only just rising above the horizon and even in his leather playing gloves James's hands are still half frozen to his broom. The warm dawn light reaches across the Great Lake towards him like fingers, the air crisp and sweet the way it only gets in the fall.
"Mother fuc—"
James misses the rest of the curse as he snatches the Quaffle out of Macdonald's hands and zips off down the pitch towards the opposite goal. Prewett and Abbott put up a good defence but James is in top form this morning. They can barely touch him.
He grins as he watches the ball sail through the middle hoop, out of breath in the best way.
"You're a junky you know that?"
James pulls his broom around to meet Sirius who's floated up lazily behind him, Beaters's club across his shoulders, arms resting on top—like he can't be bothered.
"Please, you love it as much as I do," James tries and fails to push the sweaty hair out of his face.
"Not at seven in the morning I don't, we don't even have anyone to impress," he nods cheekily towards the empty stands.
James rolls his eyes. "Like you aren't showing off for Macdonald."
"I'll have you know Mary and my's relationship has far surpassed such childish games."
"Uh huh."
Sirius smirks. "Don't worry Jamie, one day you'll meet a girl with eyesight as bad as yours and then you'll know what I'm talking about."
"Oi!" he reaches across to punch Sirius's shoulder but the prat swerves out of the way, cackling.
"For your information there are plenty of gi—"
"BLACK, POTTER, STOP FLIRTING AND GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE!"
They both peer over their brooms at the ground, where a very small, and very angry looking Frank Longbottom is glaring up at them. Well, they assume he's glaring, the details of his face are a little blurry at this height.
"You think he wants use to go down there?" Sirius asks lightly.
"Hard to tell," James muses, "he's not being very clear."
"So obtuse, our Frank."
"Always speaking in riddles."
"Though," Sirius adds thoughtfully, looking around. "It does appear that everyone else has gone."
"And if they all jumped off a cliff would you do it too?" James does his best impression of his mother and is glad to see Sirius struggling to hold it together.
"Might," he shrugs, "depends on the day really."
"I WILL KICK YOU BOTH OFF THIS TEAM SO HELP ME GOD."
Sirius lets out a dramatic sigh. "That really can't be good for him."
"And he has such a lovely singing voice," James agrees. "I suppose we could go down."
"For his sake."
James nods in agreement, meeting Sirius's eye and grinning. "We're nothing if not considerate."
