"I'm sure you'll do brilliant," James said, with all the casual confidence of someone who never contemplated the possibility of failure in himself, let alone his friends. Failure was a thing that happened on accident--like the times he failed to climb a tree and accidentally fell out.

James skipped another stone then stared at the lake contemplatively. "At least there's always clubs," he ventured at last. He didn't know if he'd want to try out for quidditch later--he was mainly concerned with flying, though obviously he liked the game. Who didn't like quidditch?--but if he wasn't going to get any practice in before school started, at least there would be opportunities. Even on a school broom, and even if the thought of that made him shudder.

---