Written for the QLFC, Round 9 – Chaser 2 for the Appleby Arrows: Quaffle - Write about a witch or wizard being torn between two different people or groups, using (quote) Because when you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worthwhile. (Anne Shirley) ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables, (image) (chess set), (word) grass-stain and James Potter.

Also written for Hogwart's Divination Assignment, Task 1: Write about a positive experience with a Ouija Board, the Writing Club – Showtime, Farmer Refuted: (dialogue) "It's hard to listen to you with a straight face."and Television Show of The Month - Dick Casablancas: (character) Sirius Black (dialogue) "So bad, it's good?" (object) game and the Rold Dahl Event: Plucky fellas - Write about James Potter.

Word count: 2628

all of your flaws are aligned

Carefully, James unearthed his grandmother's Ouija board from the trunk of her belongings that his parents had stuffed in the attic. The wood was darker than he remembered, older, too, but the polish shine was just the way it was in his memories. Even the smell, jasmine mixed with something so uniquely his grandmother's that he had never managed to pinpoint its name, hadn't changed.

It was the easiest thing, to open it and set it up on the floor like his grandmother had used to. It almost felt like she was there, too, watching over him―if he listened closely, he could almost hear her laugh echo around him, her voice a whisper that curled around his neck and slid right into his ears.

She'd had a ritual for it, too; James could remember that much, but that ritual had been, by her own words, just for show.

"Even wizards and witches expect something a bit theatrical when it comes to Divination," she had whispered to James one day like it was a confession. "Having the gift means nothing if you don't learn how to use it."

"This," she had said, pointing at the Ouija board, "is how I communicate with the other world. This board has been in my family for generations, and one day, it'll be yours―unless you're just as talentless as your poor father," she had continued, tutting sadly. "I brought it with me from India when I came to marry your grandfather. He thought I was mad, the old fool, until I got his mother to tell me where he'd hidden the baby pictures," she'd laughed fondly, eyes far away.

"Here, let me show you," she had said, almost suddenly, placing her bony hands around James's and putting them gently on the heart-shaped piece of wood that rested on the board.

Back in the present, James closed his eyes as he placed his fingers on the corners of the same wooden token―the planchette, it was called―his grandmother's voice still in his ears.

"Please, grandmother, I need your help," he whispered, trying to do as she had instructed him―trying to open himself to the spirit, using the board as a conduct like he would his wand.

"Please," he begged again. "I don't know what to do. How-how am I supposed to choose?"

And then, slowly, carefully, the planchette underneath his fingers started moving, pulled forward by an unseen force.

"Thank you," he breathed, nearly collapsing forward in relief. "Thank you."

Slowly, the letters spelled C-H-O-O-S-E W-H-A-T? and James started explaining.

.

James fell in love with Lily Evans first. She was fierce, with blood red hair and eyes as green as emeralds, and when she raged James wanted to give her the world―even if he was the one riling her up most of the time.

How could he not fall for her?

Alas, the feeling wasn't reciprocal, since Lily hated him.

"Don't worry, mate. She'll come around," Sirius told him, patting him on the back.

James just moaned loudly and tried to bury himself in his mattress, face inches deep in his pillow. "But what if she never does?" he asked, though because of said pillow, it mostly came out as "'u w'a i she ne'e doe'?"

It said a lot about their friendship that Sirius understood him anyway, only letting out a single bark of laughter before pulling the pillow away from James.

"Well, then," he said, eyes bright with the kind of determination that had lead to them to becoming Animagi so they could keep Remus company on full moon nights, "we'll just have to change her mind, won't we? Make her see what a great guy you really are!"

James just stared at Sirius, heart tripping in his chest.

"We?" he asked, voice slightly strangled.

Sirius' determined smile only seemed to widen. "Of course, we! You couldn't have thought I'd let you go through this alone―we'll make a plan, call it Padfoot's Foolproof Plan to Get Over Your Womanly Woes. She won't be able to resist, you'll see."

James laughed. He couldn't help it. "Padfoot's Foolproof Plan to Get Over Your Womanly Woes?! That's like, the worst name I've ever heard. Not to mention the longest."

Sirius pouted, swatting at James with his pillow. "So bad it's good, huh?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Come on, you know it's the perfect name for it. It's genius, even―and every awesome plan needs a genius name."

"And whose rule is that?" James snorted.

"Duh, it's mine. Obviously."

"Obviously."

"You're a terrible friend, James. I hope you know that," Sirius stated with mock sadness, nodding like James was simply the sorriest being he'd ever seen.

For some reason, that only made James laugh harder.

"Alright, alright," he finally managed, struggling to reassert his breathing. "We'll go with your 'awesome' plan."

Sirius nodded gravely. "You won't regret it, mate."

James smiled, nodding back―inwardly praying that he truly would not.

The first step of Sirius' Foolproof Plan to whatever was apparently to play chess.

A lot of chess.

"Lily needs to see that you are intellectual," Sirius explained. "You told me that she always says you're an idiot and don't use your brain, so show her that you can―thus, chess!" On the table, appearing with a very dramatic puff of smoke that James had to wave away to avoid choking, a shiny new chess set appeared, its white pieces already eyeing the black ones malevolently.

"Ja-ames," Sirius sing-songed, waving a hand in front of James' face. "Padfoot paging Prongs, is anyone home?"

James blinked himself back into focus. "I'm sorry," he said, only half-apologetic. "It's just that it's hard to listen to you with a straight face when you're dressed like… that." James pointed at Sirius' robes, which he had transfigured into a rather good imitation of McGonagall's tartan robes. Add to that the unfairly good impression of their teacher and the glasses Sirius had somehow gotten from Merlin knew where, and James was having a hard time trying to not burst out in laughter whenever he looked at his friend.

"You have to be able to focus despite the distractions, mate," Sirius replied. "Like when Evans walks in―you can't very well appear smarter if all you do is stare at her, drooling, and lose the game."

"Hey! I don't stare!"

Sirius just looked at him disbelievingly.

"Alright, alright," James mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe I do stare a little. It's not creepy, right?"

Sirius grimaced and shrugged. "Well… I guess it could be creepier? On the plus side, though, she never listed you staring as one of your numerous faults in her rants, so, really, it can't be that bad."

James considered banging his head against the table―instead, he just groaned, dropping his head in his hands. "I am doomed."

"No, you're not." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Remember, I have a-"

"-foolproof plan, yes, I know."

"So what are you worried about? I mean, when have my plans not worked out?"

"Only always, Sirius. Only always," James chuckled.

Sirius pouted. In his current attire, it looked very weird. "Why are you so mean to me? Especially when I'm trying to help you out. Now, come on, let's play chess again―I know you hate it, but Lily does like to play her weird, unmoving Muggle version of it."

"I don't like it because you always cheat," James scowled. "I know you bribed the pieces somehow so they would root for you even when they shouldn't."

Sirius put a hand over his heart, face the picture of offended hurt. "Now that is the most outrageous thing I've ever heard from you! I would never cheat―you just don't want to admit that I'm better than you."

James groaned, but he relented, and they started playing chess. So. Much. Chess.

But when Lily entered the common room, she barely scoffed at James, and her eyes lingered over him for half a second longer than they usually did.

His heart skipped a beat.

"I think your plan is actually working," James whispered to Sirius, feeling as delighted as he was surprised, a smile threatening to split his face in two.

Sirius smiled back, but when he spoke there was a hint of sadness lurking in his eyes that made James a little uneasy. "What did I tell you? My plans are genius."

"Yeah, I guess you were right," James teased, smirking.

"You guess? You guess?!" Sirius huffed. "I'll have you know that I'm always right!"

And as they bickered, the sadness James had spotted in his best friend's eyes eased away.

The unease in James' stomach, though, those weird feelings that twisted at his lungs? Those didn't ease any.

.

"Do you see?" James pleaded, fingers still hovering above the question mark he had been lead to earlier. "I don't―please, I don't know what to do."

The wooden planchette he was holding onto started moving again suddenly, jerkily.

L-O-V-E-?, it spelled, once and then again, insistently, when James didn't reply, before finally stilling.

"I…"

James thought about Lily, how she actually smiled at him now, something warm and soft instead of angry and harsh. How electric it had felt, to slip his hand into hers and walk by her side through Hogsmeade, how she made everything feel so new and exciting even when it wasn't.

He thought of Sirius, whose grey eyes twinkled like a star whenever he laughed, whose hand on his shoulder was always so warm and comforting, but who now stared at James like he was afraid he would lose him forever if he took his eyes off him for even a second.

He thought about the way his heart started pounding when either one smiled at him, the way his palms started sweating whenever they called his name.

"Yes," he finally said, defeated, because this was the only truth he knew. "Yes, it's love. I love them both, grandma, and I don't know how to choose."

.

James thought that he didn't so much fall in love with Sirius as he realized that he had always loved him.

It went like this: James asked Lily if she would like to have a picnic outside, since the weather was so favorable and lovely, and before he knew it she'd said yes but his friends had also tagged along.

"It's fine, James," Lily laughed. "I don't mind them coming with."

James pouted, but Lily's amusement rang true, so he only glared at his friends for the interruption a little.

But that was how he found himself sitting on a red and white checkered blanket―the House Elves, it seemed, went all the way through with the clichés―enjoying the warmth of sunshine as it caressed his skin, Lily's head tucked against his shoulder, her red hair tickling his shin whenever he breathed in.

Sirius and Peter were wrestling for the last strawberry pastry, having long fallen off the blanket and onto the slightly humid grass, spurred on by Remus and James yelling out their names (mostly) randomly; and when Sirius finally managed to snatch the now very mushed pastry and kneeled up triumphantly, James' heart went oh.

It wasn't even that Sirius looked any different from how he usually did. He didn't even look particularly good, with how red his face was as he tried to get his breathing back under control, with the grass-stains on his knees and elbows, and the mud on his forehead. But still, there was something about the way his eyes sparkled, about the way his skin seemed to shine under the sunlight―something that made James' breath hitch in his chest.

He didn't realize that he had forgotten Lily was there until she moaned unhappily against his shoulder, and reality crashed down on James. He felt cold, suddenly, and like the worst kind of person.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked, looking up at him, concern shining in her green eyes.

"I'm fine," James lied, and he pushed the panic down. There would be time to examine his feelings later.

Still, he didn't look in Sirius' direction again that day.

It was like, now that he had realized that he felt things for Sirius, he couldn't stop from noticing them, from noticing him.

But the worst part wasn't that he was dating Lily now, and that he shouldn't be having feelings for anyone but her―no, the worst part was that he just couldn't pick one of them to love, that he couldn't decide which one of them he loved more and wanted to spend his life with.

It was that he was having dreams now―disgustingly domestic dreams―of living with both of them, of getting to love both of them.

He knew Sirius had feelings for him―now that James was aware of his own feelings, seeing Sirius' was easy―and now that Sirius and Lily were actually becoming somewhat reluctant friends, James' heart―his treacherous heart―couldn't stop shouting at him that maybe he could have this, even as his head begged him to choose, to nip this ridiculous fantasy in the bud before it could grow and flower in his chest.

But he couldn't choose―not between Lily, who it seemed he had always been in love with, and Sirius, whose absence in his life would feel like, he was sure, someone had carved out a piece of his heart and left him there, bleeding, for the vultures to tear apart.

It was driving him mad, this constant feeling of having his heart be torn between two people he loved equally, especially since he didn't even dare voice this conclusion out loud, for fear of making it too real―for what would he do then?

What could he do, when his own feelings were what betrayed him?

.

James stopped talking, voice raw. He heaved a slow sigh, chuckling softly when that made dust rise in the air a little. In the rays of sunlight filtering through the half-blocked of window above him, those particles of dust almost looked like diamonds, or perhaps stars.

His fingers gripped the woods tighter, until his skin turned white where the planchette dig painfully into his flesh.

"So, can you help me?"

The air curled around James' cheek, a soft caress that reminded him of the last time he'd seen his grandmother alive―she'd made him tea, he remembered, and James had spilled some on his clothes. They had smelled like oranges and cardamone for days after that, until his parents had forced him to wash them―James hadn't had the heart to.

The planchette started moving slowly this time, letting James track the letters easily.

A sentence formed in his mind's eye slowly.

Love is a gift, it said. Why shouldn't you just share it?

Despite himself, James laughed. His shoulders unwound a little―this was just exactly the kind of thing his grandmother used to say, and she had never failed to make him smile.

"I don't think it works quite like that, grandma," James chuckled.

Why not? the planchette spelled out almost instantly.

James shrugged, lips pulled down dejectedly. "It just doesn't."

Why not? the planchette repeated.

James huffed a quiet laugh. "The world doesn't quite work like that, I'm afraid. You can't just be with two people at the same time."

For a long moment, the planchette didn't move again, and James was almost afraid that his grandmother had gone, that this was all the answer he would get today. But then it started moving again.

Then change the world, it said, and James laughed, happiness bubbling in his chest.

Change the world, huh? Could it really be that simple?

He thought back to these fantasies he'd shoved at the back of his mind, and for what felt like the first time, he dared to dream they could come true.