James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

        None of the matches James had taken part in that summer compared to this, however. Not only did the Weasleys tend to be fiercely competitive, but all the players knew each other eerily well. This was sometimes a benefit, such as when George ducked beneath a Bludger and lobbed the Quaffle over his head, knowing Angelina would be directly behind him to swat it into the goal with her Beater club. It was also sometimes a dread drawback, such as when Ginny predicted Ted's favorite maneuver and plucked the Quaffle from beneath his arm the very moment he swooped to score. Despite the fervor of the match, there was plenty of laughter and hearty encouragement on all sides. James knew he'd probably influence the match very little. He was mostly concerned with staying on his broom and not letting his own mum make a complete fool out of him in front of Rose and the rest. To his great pleasure, however, he did manage a few lucky swats with his club, sending the old Bludgers careening into the fracas and even occasionally striking their marks. One of them caromed off of George's broomtail, sending him into a wild, momentary spin. When he recovered, he glanced back at James and gave him a huge, toothy grin.

        'Look at James!' he called to the other players. 'Giving the 'old guard' a warning shot! Next one will be my head, eh, James? Nice shot!' And he dove back into the melee.

        Ron couldn't help jumping up and down at the edge of the pitch, shouting instructions and warnings through cupped hands.

        'Dragon formation!' he bellowed furiously. 'Dragon formation, George at the wing! Harry's left is weak since that hit with Angelina! They've no defence against it! Ginny, you're drifting to the right! Fix your tail! Your tail! Oh, come down here and give me your broom!'

        Right next to him, Albus matched him shout for shout, sometimes shoving his uncle aside with both hands. 'They're planning a Waterloo Skidoo, Dad! Stack up and plow the center! Ted! Mum's stopped to fix her broomtail! She's exposed! Forget she's a girl and Bludger her back to the Stone Age!'

        Hermione had moved to the blanket to sit with Fleur. The two of them were pointedly ignoring the match, lost in their own animated conversation.

        And then, just as the sun was beginning to redden, James caught a flash of gold flickering near the fifth story of the Burrow. He glanced around, opening his mouth to alert the Seeker, and then remembered he was playing Seeker. His heart trip-hammered and he lunged forward, touching his chin to his broom handle. He shot forward, banking around Angelina and a wildly spinning Bludger. The rickety walls of the Burrow swayed in front of him, its windows winking daggers of burnished sunlight at him, half blinding him. There it was again, the flash of gold, darting through a stand of birch trees at the corner. James leaned, and the Thunderstreak responded with perfect control, ticking down and to the right, homing in on the Snitch. He strained forward, nearly climbing off the end of his broom, and reached for the tarnished golden ball.

        The Snitch suddenly bobbed upwards, just over James' reaching hand. He shot under it, swore loudly, and then tucked his head as he whipped through the branches of the birch trees. They tore at him, but he barely noticed. He leaned so hard that he nearly fell off his broom, slewing to a halt and craning his head back to find the Snitch. The setting sun dazzled his eyes. James squinted and saw the tiny golden form of the Snitch. It hung in the air near the corner of the Burrow's roof, bobbing in the air like a bumblebee. A darker shape appeared behind it, blocking the sun. It was Ginny. She saw the Snitch, and then saw James. She grinned, and hugged her broom, rocketing forward.

        'Oh no you don't!' James growled. He lunged, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the Snitch and not to check to see where his mum was. The Snitch seemed to sense the pursuit. It zigged out over the pitch, threading through the players. James hugged his broom, willing it to go even faster, and was suddenly reminded that the Thunderstreak was equipped with a rudimentary ability to read its owner's mind. It leapt forward, faster than James had ever gone before. He dipped under Ted and his dad, who had noticed the Snitch flash past them. James heard them cheering him on raucously. A shadow fell over the end of his broom and James couldn't help glancing up. His mum was directly over him, swooping toward the Snitch, her tunic flapping. James did the first thing that occurred to him. Suddenly, wildly, he steered to the left, away from the Snitch, still reaching forward as if to grab it. Instantly, he corrected and threw himself forward on his broom. It had worked! He sensed the movement over him as Ginny feinted left, believing James had seen the Snitch move aside. She'd been watching him rather than the Snitch itself! The Snitch didn't dodge away from him this time. He strained forward, brushed it with his fingers as it flew, and then clamped his hand on it. The wings buzzed against his palm for a moment before going still. The game was over.

        James turned on his broom exultantly, holding the Snitch over his head. Far behind him, Harry and Ted threw their hands into the air. They were shouting at him. A second later, James realized they weren't celebrating. They were making warning signs. James hadn't stopped his broom. He whipped around to see where he was going just as the gnarled apple tree at the back of the pitch loomed over him. The breath socked out of him as a branch swept him from his broom. There was a sickly sensation of weightlessness, and then he thumped to the ground.

        'Ooh,' he moaned. Running footsteps approached and a moment later his mum was kneeling over him.

        'James! Tell me you're all right!' she commanded. Lily peered in next to her, her eyes wide.

        'He's all right, everybody,' Ted said as he landed nearby, laughing. 'He only dropped eight feet. Besides, all those rotten apples broke his fall.'

        James sat up and felt the sticky mush of a dozen rotten apples plastered to his back. He moaned and shook his head, flinging gobbets of apple pulp from his hair.

        'Gah!' Lily cried, sputtering. 'Warn me next time you do that, idiot!'

        Suddenly, James remembered the Snitch. He glanced down at it in his hand, and then showed it to his mum. A huge grin broke out on his face.

        Ginny smiled down at him crookedly. 'Nicely done, son. Just don't expect to beat me twice.'

        'Did we win, then?' James asked as Ginny gave him her hand and pulled him to his feet.

        'I hear Albus and your uncle arguing about it even as we speak, but I'd guess you did.'

        In the near distance, James heard Ron and Albus heatedly arguing the final score.

        'Excellent grab, James,' Harry said to his son, brushing rotten apple off the back of James' shirt as they returned to the Burrow.

        'Yeah,' Ted agreed happily, 'great use of the old dodge and feint. I was sure your mum was gonna beat you to the gold, but you really took the biscuit, didn't you?'

        'I'll say,' George said sourly, turning and walking backwards so as to glare pointedly at Ginny, his broom slung over his shoulder. 'In fact, if I recall correctly, I think it was a member of this very family that invented that maneuver.'

        Ginny looked innocently at her brother. 'I haven't the faintest idea what you mean, George.'

        'No? Hmm! Well, if I remember right—and I do—the Harpies' announcers used to call it the 'Ginevra Gambit'. Funny thing, you falling for a maneuver named after you, isn't it? Right suspicious, in fact.'

        Ginny simply shrugged and smiled. George continued to walk backwards, fuming at her. Finally, Angelina tripped him.

        'James, why don't you go gather your brother and cousins for dinner?' Harry said, ruffling his son's hair. 'Your grandfather will be home soon and we all want to be there for the big surprise.'

        'Now look what you did, Dad,' James said, trying to matt his hair back down. 'I look like an old picture of you.'

        'That rotten apple's even better than Hermione's hair gel goo,' Ted commented. 'You should tell her about it. Ron says she spends more money on Muggle hair potions than she does on food.'

        'What?' Hermione shrilled, bumping Ron with her hip. 'You did not!'

        James didn't wait for the rest. He tossed his Thunderstreak to his dad and turned toward the sound of his