The Quidditch Pitch

*A long field stretches out behind the house, flanked on both sides by trees of various shapes, sizes, and colours. The grass is mostly green, but brown or bare patches are scattered here and there. Not at all flat, with small bumps and ridges marring its surface, it's not the best area for field games like soccer, not that that doesn't stop the kids from trying when they need to use up some excess energy. But the real use of this large patch free of structures is for the popular sport all the kids love, even the non-magical ones who can do nothing but watch and cheer: Quidditch.*

"But why can't I play?"

James ran his fingers through his hair in barely contained exasperation and switched Eleanor to the other hip before turning to the small boy who was tugging on his vest. "Because, Demmy," The boy scowled at the use of one of his many nicknames, "you're too little."

"I am not!" Damascus insisted, stamping his slipper-clad foot. "You don't know what you're talking about! Draco had a broom when he was little like me. There's tons of pictures!"

James sighed and sat down, arranging Eleanor in his lap and waving at the others to start the game without him. Remus looked over from his book but didn't say anything. "Thing is, Demmy, your probably not going to be able to play when you get bigger either. Unless someone takes you up on their broom or something, but Quidditch's too fast to play like that."

The younger boy started to tear up and looked away to hide it. "But why," he asked, his voice only slightly unsteady, "can't I play by myself?" He finished in barely a whisper and still refused to look at James.

"Yeah, why!" Eleanor parroted happily. James smiled and tickled her until she squirmed, laughing, out of his arms and ran to Remus. He started to play with her quietly, glancing over to meet James' eye and let him know he'd keep her occupied until his talk with Damascus was over.

"Well, it's not certain you won't be able to..." James bit his lip, unsure of how to continue. "But, you know how me and Remus and Antonin and a bunch of the other can do magic and stuff? But Savannah and Cardamom and Rebecca can't? They're all really smart and good at a lot of thing, but they just can't no matter what or how hard they try. Well, that may be the same with you." James finished and looked over at his little brother to see how he was taking it. So far he seemed to be okay, and looked more uncertain than upset at the moment.

Damascus looked down and dug the toe of his dragon slippers into the grass. "But what if you teach me?"

James looked down as well and started picking at the grass. "It's just not that simple, little buddy. I mean, do you believe there's anything in the world 'Vannah couldn't learn if she really wanted to?"He saw Damascus shake his head out of the corner of his eye. "Exactly. So if it's impossible for even 'Vannah to learn, it's something you just have to be born with. We're just not sure if you were born with it yet. Maybe you were; maybe you weren't."

The younger boy considered this for a moment. "So... when will we know?"

"It all depends. Some people show it really young. Look at Myrtle: she was barely a few months old when she started hovering herself out of the bassinet. Neville and Colin took a few years before we were certain. It sometimes takes a long time. But if you turn ten or so and haven't shown any magic you probably aren't going to ever be able to do it. And until we know for certain, you can't ride a broom."

Damascus plunked down on the grass beside James and started adding to the small grass pile he'd amassed. "That's not really fair."

James reached over to ruffle his hair. "No, not really. But guess what?" Damascus looked up with a cautiously curious look on his face. "Saturday we're playing football and I'll make sure you're on my team. We'll defeat everyone else, right?"

"Right!"

Jame smiled at his brother and they both sat back to watch the rest of the game.