Endgame
James dove.
This was it, he thought as the wind and the crowd's yelling made his ears roar. This was the last time he'd be doing this here, on this pitch, in this place. He could feel the Slytherin Seeker hot on his tail, but fuck that. This was his day. According to Madam Hooch there were at least two scouts in the spectator stands, and this really was his last chance not to disappoint, after the mess he'd made of things at Christmas.
There was a twinge of indecision as he realised the snitch was much closer to the ground than he had calculated - he wasn't sure he could pull up in time. He grimaced as he realised he was probably going to end up in the hospital wing again, but he remembered all too well the speech he'd dazzled his team with before going out onto the pitch.
"Do not let me down, ladies and gentlemen. Don't let me down, and I will not let you down. That is how we roll!"
Slap. The instant the cold metal of the snitch hit his hand he dragged his broom away from the swiftly approaching ground, shutting his eyes in preparation for the crash. It was much more likely that Lily or Al's newer brooms would have managed the dive, but James' broom knew him and was used to this sort of idiocy. When he opened his eyes he was sailing along the ground, not three inches away from it, mind, the crowd all around him cheering and the team in red and gold speeding towards him with their hands in the air.
He grinned and tipped himself off onto the ground. That's how we roll.