Jily one shots

softly but firmly

disclaimer: written by LiesMiranda

It was never just about the snitch. Lily had heard James say those words umpteen times, usually when someone had insulted the importance of his own playing position, but she didn't think the phrase had ever been further from his mind.

Lily would be the first to admit that she was no Quiddtich expert, but if she were to analyse the match, she'd say that this one - the legendary opening match of the season against Slytherin, held on a Saturday in late November - rested entirely in the hands of the two seekers. Much as the Gryffindors were loath to admit it, Slytherin had developed a side as strong as their own this year, and the Chasers of both teams were so equally brilliant that the score had been practically neck and neck for over four hours. No matter how long it went for (and it had been starting to look like it would be an extraordinarily long time), neither side was ever going to be able to get over one hundred and fifty points ahead. The snitch would define the outcome.

It had been three o'clock in the afternoon, with the score at four hundred and sixty to four hundred and twenty in Slytherin's favour, when Gryffindor's third year seeker Daisy Towler had looked down at her wristwatch to check the time. Incidentally, the entire crowd had heard James yelling at her furiously across the pitch for not removing that particular item before the start at the match, for fear she would become distracted from the game. Daisy had seen the snitch hovering above her elbow and, like a mosquito, had slapped it against her arm, holding it up in the air a few seconds later to general confusion.

It hadn't lasted though. As James had proudly explained to Lily in the common room the night before; if Gryffindor won this match, it would mark a ten-year winning streak over their greatest rivals. This fact was remembered by the fifth year Lion who had been commentating, almost immediately after the crowd had gained some sense over what had just happened. (Daisy flying around the pitch with her fist held aloft shouting, "We've won!" had helped considerably.) The cheering Gryffindor supporters had swarmed onto the pitch before the team had even landed.

Lily, running along the grass with the rest of her House, knew exactly where James would be: in the centre, with the thrilled seeker on his shoulders. Somehow, after his first victory with the team, twelve year old James had managed to lift his seventh year captain up in the same way, and it had become a sort of tradition ever since. Lily, from the outskirts of the throng, watched with a smile as Daisy was passed atop of Sirius instead, and then James was shaking hands with the first years who had squeezed through to praise him, pounding his teammates on the back, hugging a fourth year girl who just happened to be beside him so fiercely that she was lifted well off her feet.

His glasses were askew, half of his fringe was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and he hadn't stopped shouting some nonsense - that no one could hear over the raucous sound of their own voices - in a good five minutes. His hazel eyes were shining extraordinarily visibly behind his spectacles; a grin splitting his face in two.

It struck Lily that she had never seen him looking so euphoric, so in his element, so thoroughly James.

It also struck her that she wanted nothing more than to be lifted up like that fourth year, but not to come down with the slightly bemused look that she had. Lily wanted to be lifted up and not ever return to the ground; just keep going up with the boy with the jet black hair and the energetic high that came with his presence.

The Gryffindors had remembered that the Seeker they owed the match to had a captain, and a cheer of "POTTER! POTTER!" had begun. Lily knew he loved it, but James ran a hand through his hair and looked down, almost abashed, though the grin never left his face. When his eyes came back up, they reached across the ten metre distance separating the two head students, and met her own. The grin grew, if possible, wider, and Lily felt her heart and stomach and possibly her liver clench in a way she'd become accustomed to since school had resumed.