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James Potter was devoted to quidditch, that much had been obvious since he had gotten his first broom as a child. Now however, for his final year at Hogwarts before graduation he was named quidditch captain. He was elated, the only thing better than winning among their team, was winning for their team. If he led gryffindor to victory, he would leavr Hogwarts a legend. If he did not, then at least he was graduating, and would only have to hear about it continuously for three years until people got bored of it.
Five practices into the year however, had proved to him that being quidditch captain would see to be much harder of a task than he thought. A lot of the members of the previous year's team had left, so there was quite a lot of fresh blood on the team. A weedy fifth year beater, a bespeckled sixth year keeper who couldn't block for shit but got the role because no one else showed up, and her.
After a particularly disastrous training session in the October cold, everyone ended up windswept, chilled, and grassy from various collisions that ended with students falling off brooms and sprawling on the dewy morning grass, James pulled her aside.
"Hey, look. This might not be for you." James had noted, raising an eyebrow at her as he propped his broom against the wall of the tent, combing his fingers pensively through his tousled dark hair in a manner that indicated he was quite peeved. "Parker is hitting bludgers at the wrong people. Thomas is bloody wank at simple turns, and you, christ."
"We're hardly into the season, and our chances are looking bleak. I'm not trying to intimidate you into quitting of course." Though the subtle furrow of his brow and the twitch of the corner of his mouth seemed to counter that. He was clearly a young man on thin strings.
Her brows furrowed, a mix of confusion and irritation on her features. "Excuse me?" She gritted out. "I've been on this team for years. I mess up in practice once and you're ready to throw me out?"
He crossed his arms defensively. "Well you've been screwing up all week! This isn't just a one time thing, this is every time you come out to the pitch." He growled. Sure, he could've been a bit more diplomatic about it, but he wasn't inclined towards kindness right then. "Look, I'n going to say it as I find it — you haven't been flying well — you haven't even touched the damn snitch once."
"How can I!?" Her voice raised a few decimals. "It's not that easy with all the distractions. I have to constantly be watching to make sure I don't get knocked off my broom. Don't even get me started on you."
James bristled, his body language stiffening as he was confronted with just how much he had pissed her off by confronting her like this, to say he was surprised was an understatement, it was pretty clear that he had just crossed a line and was only just figuring it out. "What the hell do you mean 'don't get me started on you'?" He bit out, the sharp edge of his voice indicating that he was not feeling especially charitable at the moment.
"Don't act all innocent now, James!" She jabbed a finger into his chest, as if exaggerating her point. "You have been eye fucking me these last few sessions."
His eyes widened in surprise, but that lasted for a mere second before he had snapped back to his usual demeanor. He hated the fact that she was right, and he had been staring at her — not intentionally — but still.
"So what if I've been?" He challenged, his brows furrowing as he leaned closer to her, his tone daring her to continue this line of questioning. "Are you really going to tell me that nobody on the team hasn't noticed your figure in that tight little uniform?"
She let out an annoyed huff. "Trust me, I know. I can't bloody focus with your eyes burning holes into me." She spit out, the annoyance she felt was still lingering in the air.
He was trying to work himself back towards a calm, collected attitude, or at least appear that way. But that was hard to do when she was getting all fired up and looked so hot. "That sounds like a you problem then doesn't it." He muttered, leaning in closer as he looked her up and down. "I can't be expected to control myself just because you have an attractive body."
"You're a bloody prick, absolutely awful." She spoke harshly before she put an end to her temper. "That doesn't give you the right to try to get rid of me."
His smile faltered at her harsh words, and for a split second his expression softened. The last thing he wanted was to be cruel to her — especially when she looked so damn good when her eyes were full of fire. He just really needed to able to count on his team, and -
"No, you're right." He sighed, pushing his fingers through his hair again, though this time it was less out of irritation and more nervousness. "You're an essential part of the team, and I'm sorry I came at you like that."
She straightened herself out, her voice returned to her normal soft tone as she spoke up again. "Apology accepted." She took a tight grip onto her broom as she walked away, but she only made it a few steps before turning back to him. "And James? If you want to continue to undress me with your eyes, do it before or after practice."
He couldn't stop himself from smirking — it was almost as if she was daring him now. If she kept looking this good, and talking to him like this, then he was sure as hell going to take her up on that offer.
"Oh don't you worry, love." He spoke as he grabbed his own broom and shot her a wink. "I plan to."
