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WINNER TAKES ALL

act two ━ chapter eighteen

. . . . . .

━ BRONWYN WARD ━september 1977

     "YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME."

     "Afraid not."

     Sirius Black practically had scrambled eggs falling from his mouth as he tried to digest the news he had just received. And that news was that his best friend was officially ─ titles and all ─ dating Bronwyn Ward.

     James doesn't quite know why exactly but Sirius was never really fond of Bronwyn. He reckons it's because the idea of Sirius not being James' oldest friend doesn't quite sit right with him, despite the fact that as soon as Bronwyn and James were sorted into separate houses, they were hardly friends at all. Even when the Wards spent time over at the Potter household in the holidays, James would be off with his home friends, or locked away in his room exchanging records in the mail with Sirius. It wasn't like Bronwyn had stolen Sirius' best friend.

     But, then again, James and Bronwyn "officially dating" might be the final evidence Sirius needs to accuse the girl of friend robbery.

     "This isn't a joke?" Sirius asked, and James doesn't think he's ever seen such severity in the creases of the dark-haired boy's face.

     "Not a joke," James answered plainly.

     "Not a prank either?"

     "Not a prank either."

     Sirius went silent, his brain hard at work trying to come to terms with this information, despite how little he liked the sound of it. He looked like he was about to open his mouth again, but stopped himself and simply scowled at James who sat stiffly in his chair, mid-breakfast.

     James, quite frankly, did not have the energy for such a discussion with Sirius, that would just end up being an argument where neither of them would have the maturity to admit their childishness.

     Remus decided to fill the now stuffy, rather tense air with his amused tone. "I always knew you fancied her."

     "Me too," Peter piped up, his smile tipping up now that Remus had broken the ice.

     "What?" James couldn't help but let his immediate reaction burst out. Remus' slight furrow of his brows and Peter sealing his mouth shut caused him to rethink his response, as he shuffled awkwardly in his seat. "Oh, er, right," James mumbled, only just clocking on that he was supposed to genuinely fancy Bronwyn, hence why they were dating.

     James glanced briefly at Sirius, trying to gauge his feelings as best he could, before darting his eyes in the opposite direction. He tried to conceal how uncomfortable he felt but forced out a nervous chuckle, "Guess my mum got through to me after all."

     The boy opposite him glared straight through him. "More like brainwashed you."

     Sirius couldn't stay quiet anymore and was seemingly running out of ways he could catch James out for playing with him. When he was unsuccessful at that and also at trying to fathom James dating a girl Sirius had had to endure lots of complaining about, he nodded once, and sternly, and then got up from his seat and walked out of the Great Hall.

     James stared, almost longingly, at the exit of the dining hall, where Sirius was now disappearing, growing smaller and smaller until he was there no more. He sighed but still lacking in motivation, James stayed where he was.

     He didn't know why Sirius' lack of support for his supposed relationship with Bronwyn affected him so much. James wasn't actually dating her, so there was nothing for Sirius to approve of anyway.

     Sensing his friend's disappointment, while also following the shrinking figure of Sirius, Remus nudged James playfully in his side. "He'll come around."

✧

     IT SEEMED THAT, BAR THEIR MOTHERS, WHO WOULD NEVER KNOW, nobody seemed to much like the idea of Bronwyn Ward and James Potter dating. Granted, they weren't actually, and one of the main goals of their pretend relationship was solely to make Lily Evans envious, but it led Bronwyn to feel weirdly like she was doing the wrong thing.

     The Slytherin Quidditch team had a lunchtime practice and as Bronwyn led the players out to the practice pitch, Regulus jogged up to her and said as discreetly as he could, "You're dating Potter now?"

     She shouldn't be surprised, word gets around fast in this school, even if James kept it hushed, but Bronwyn reckons her eyes widening ever so slightly might have let her nonchalant attitude down a little.

     Staying silent, as if saying something would reveal that she was less than happy to discuss this right now considering it was still a very new arrangement, Bronwyn nodded her head.

     "Did I hear that right?" A gruff voice called out from where the pair were walking ahead.

     Bronwyn truthfully should have anticipated her teammates being opposed to her dating the seeker of their historically rival team. Trying to keep her composure, she spun around and walked backwards, maintaining a sense of indifference. "What's it to you, Rosier?

     "I didn't think you could stoop so low," Evan shrugged.

     Bronwyn came to a stop on the grass so that Evan walked straight up to her. She nodded to Regulus insinuating that he and the rest of the team should carry on. She then sized up Evan, the sun streaming down and hitting her back.

     "Think of it as keeping enemies close," she said, cocking her head back a little.

     She felt like it was the only way to get them off her back and, in her defence, it wasn't a complete lie. James certainly was the enemy and she was keeping him unusually, and more than she would like to, close. They didn't need to know the full details.

     Evan considered her response for a moment and he couldn't deny that Bronwyn intimidated him. With a still face and zero emotion, Evan replied, "That's why you're the captain, Bronwyn."

     Having consolidated her position as Evan Rosier's superior, where her love life won't affect her Quidditch skills nor her relationship with her teammates, Bronwyn jokily shoved Evan towards the distant practice pitch, where the rest of the team was heading.

     Bronwyn took a moment to herself as she strolled slowly behind, Evan catching up to his friends in their Quidditch robes, and began to wonder how James was describing their fake relationship. Childhood friends to lovers. Their mothers' dreams come true. I just never saw how perfect we would be together until now.

     Whatever James was blurting to who knows, Bronwyn reckons her reaction would be yuck.

✧

     SINCE SIRIUS WAS ICING HIM OUT, James thought the best thing to do was spend time with his new girlfriend, seeing as, no matter how much she claimed to hate him, she'd have to get used to him being around if Lily was going to believe that they were actually dating.

      But Bronwyn had different ideas and instead of spending time with her, it seemed James was forced to follow her around once she was out of the Slytherin common room where she had spent her free period in the afternoon. With lessons done for the day, James hoped they could establish a few terms with which this fake dating was going to work.

     Bronwyn was leaving the dungeons via the main stairs when he caught her and when he proposed they clarify the dos and don'ts of Operation Make Lily Jealous, Bronwyn dismissed him with swift speech. "If this is gonna work, we don't kiss, I'll consider holding hands and try and keep telling people to a minimum." She turned to face him on the stairs. "I've agreed to help you make Lily jealous but I'd rather not have the whole school know how low my standards have dropped."

     "Okay ouch," he said, left dumbfounded on the steps alone as she continued to walk away from him. Realising he was losing her attention, James scampered up the stairs and hurried to her side as she headed down the corridor. "Fine. But I will kiss you on the cheek."

     Bronwyn chuckled dryly, her strides still long and purposeful and James sensed she was doing it deliberately to try and shake him. Unfortunately for her, it wasn't going to be that easy. "Anybody'd think you're in love with me, not Evans."

     "Moving swiftly on from the idea of me being in love with you," James said, temporarily grossed out before he remembered his goal for why he was waiting for her outside the entrance to the Slytherin lounge, "you wanna help me write Snape's essay? I just checked and there are some leftovers from lunch in the Great Hall, we could take some away and sit outside?"

     Bronwyn briefly glanced his way as they turned the corner. She seemed amused but still distracted by her task at hand; James was only an afterthought right now. "Why are you acting like we are friends?"

     "We are?"

     "I might be your friend, but you, unfortunately, are not mine."

     "Wow." James couldn't believe what he was hearing almost as much as he couldn't believe he was still following her when she clearly didn't want to be followed.

     "I can't anyway," Bronwyn sighed, hoping that an explanation as to where she was going would finally get him to leave her alone. She knew she agreed to fake date him but she didn't think that meant she drop everything to be with him 24/7. "Told Hooch I'd clean out the broom shed."

     She knew how it sounded ─ a silly, quite clearly made-up excuse that she improvised just to get the kid to leave her alone. But it was the truth. After practice, she was talking to Madam Hooch about the upcoming season and when the mess of a broom shed came into the conversation naturally, Bronwyn offered to help out seeing as she had the evening off; no homework to complete and no imminent exam to study for.

     James pulled a face of puzzlement. "Why would you do that?"

     "Because I'm nice. Got to keep up that favourite student title."

     This got a scoff out of James and he picked up his pace as if there was urgency in finding out why Bronwyn was under the impression that Madam Hooch's star pupil was Bronwyn and not him. He was great at Quidditch. "I'm her favourite."

     "You're exhausting," Bronwyn corrected. "She told me."

     "What, over coffee?" He teased, and Bronwyn spared him an eye roll.

     "Piss off, James," she said and it felt good to finally say what she had been wanting to since she saw him leant up against the dungeon's wall. "I may have agreed to let you tell people we're dating but nobody will notice if we don't spend every second together."

     James didn't have any other plans for the rest of the day which is why he came to her in the first place. Sirius was the last person he wanted to see, and Peter and Remus had retreated to the library when it was clear James and Sirius had established they weren't talking for the rest of the day. He didn't quite know what to do with himself if Bronwyn didn't spend the evening laughing at his jokes as he had planned.

     Without thinking at all, he grabbed her wrist, spun her around and planted a rather large and wet kiss on her cheek.

     When he pulled away, James kept ahold of both her hands and grinned down at her as if what he had done was totally normal and she should have expected it. "I wanna help. With the broom cupboard. I am, after all, a Quidditch player too."

     But Bronwyn didn't shake her head or shoo him away; she stood frozen, her eyes wide, slightly rigid and definitely not looking as though she had a response for him.

     "Bronwyn," James probed, lowering his head to examine her further, "you look like you've seen a ghost."

     "Give me a minute," she squeaked. "Trying to accept that this is my new norm for the next week."

     "Ah," James said meekly, slowly taking a step away from her, dropping her wrists carefully. The few students in the hallways didn't have a care for the supposed couple stuck to the same tile and Lily wasn't anywhere near where they were, but James couldn't think of anything else that would get Bronwyn to stop her root march. She was basically running away from him.

     Having shaken her head to rid herself of the shock of his kiss ─ the second time he has done this ─ Bronwyn squared in on James and said with furrowed brows, "Don't you wanna spend time with Lily instead? You know, so she actually grows to like you?"

     "I rejected her," James reminded her. "Can't now go ask her for a study date, can I?"

     "Go make friends then."

     "I have friends."

     "New ones."

     Bronwyn thought she had finally lost him when he stared at her blankly, either deliberating to get new friends like she had instructed or he was just very offended that she was supposed to be his fake girlfriend and she still didn't like his friends.

     He even didn't follow her when she initially walked away and out into the open air, towards the practice pitch where the broom cupboard was located. But the emphasis should be on the initially because, for the second time, James considered to leave her be but then decided, he was most definitely not willing to sit in the library with his two nerd friends for the rest of the evening before dinner.

     But, Bronwyn must have been inside the broom shed for a mere five minutes when she heard a knock on the door. Huffing as she put down the crate of spare balls she had been moving to the side, Bronwyn swung open the door to see James grinning on the other side.

     "You could use the help," he said before she even got to protest his arrival. "Two people work faster than one."

     Bronwyn glared back at him with a bored expression and eventually moved to the side to let the boy pass and only because cleaning out and reorganising the broom shed was a much bigger task than she had anticipated.

     Not very far into the labour ahead of them, James was practically interrogating Bronwyn with the series of random questions he was asking her. It was safe to say he wasn't struggling to make conversation as the pair of them started with black bags and damaged equipment.

     "I told Sirius we are dating today." There was a smirk playing on his lips and he stopped what he was doing to analyse her response.

     "Ooo, what imaginative name did he call me this time?" Her eyes flashed with excitement, but it was wholly sarcastic.

     "I think the name-calling was more aimed at me, to be honest."

     Bronwyn's shoulders sagged as she let the black bag she was hauling around fall to the ground to stop and look at him. She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "Maybe he's maturing."

     "Probably puberty finally kicking in."

     "Better late than never."

     Half-way through, once they had moved on to cleaning the shed, having done all the clearing out, James could name every one of Bronwyn's favourites, Bronwyn practically knew the story of the boy's life (the details she was unfortunate not to have known before now) and she was beginning to hope he would just lose his voice.

     She may not have agreed to fake date him if she knew he had so much small talk material.

     James gasped out of nowhere as he was moving aside a set of very tattered and old brooms that Bronwyn had assigned herself to examine earlier on. James hadn't noticed the set of spare brooms' manufacturer until he had to pick them up to dust the cobwebs behind them.

     His eyes lit up with fondness. James held up a Comet 220, tracing his fingers along the battered body, overwhelmed with a wave of nostalgia. "I remember when I had one of these."

     Bronwyn leaned over to read the engraved name at the end and tutted in realisation. The 220 was a late 60s model and this one must have been left over by a student some years ago. She and James shared one when they were kids before Bronwyn got a Cleensweep Six for her tenth birthday.

     "I remember that too because you couldn't seem to not fall on your face."

     James' mouth hit the floor, obviously offended. "It was a bad model. Not my fault."

     "I could easily play a game on this old thing," she said smugly, and she believed it.

     James scoffed, and clearly, he did not believe her claim. "You can barely play a game on your own broom."

     Bronwyn was suddenly not at all interested in cleaning the window that let some light into the broom shed. She abandoned her glass cleaner and cloth and crossed her arms to address the boy properly. "I fly circles around you, James," she said, before lowering her voice, "and you know it."

     "Bet."

     "Excuse me?"

     James' brows shot upwards and he mirrored her stance. "Scared?"

     "No," she assured him, "just confused as to why you would ever wager such a thing."

     James held on to the broom in his hand and retrieved another one of the same models, standing them up against each other. "Both of us on one of these," he said, before tilting his head back to point out the practice pitch a minute's walk behind them, "three laps around the pitch, winner takes all."

     "And all is what exactly?"

     He could hardly help the cocky sneer that fell across his features. "The loser has to admit the other is a better flyer than them."

     "Bragging rights?" James nodded. "I better win then," she snarled, as she snatched one of the brooms from his hands. She leaned in closer so that their faces were inches apart. "Because you will never hear those words come out of my mouth."

     The next second, Bronwyn was confidently striding out to the practice pitch, broom carefully poised in her hands, her head held high as she let the gentle breeze flutter her hair on her back. She stood daringly on the sidelines and waited for James who soon joined her, holding an intense moment of eye contact before the two of them mounted their brooms.

     "Three laps?" Bronwyn asked for confirmation.

     James nodded once. "Three laps."

     "Winner takes all?"

     "He certainly will."

     Scoffing, and rolling her eyes, Bronwyn focused on the oval-shaped pitch before her, noting the path she was soon to follow. She was going to brush that smirk off of his face when he was stuck behind her for the next three laps.

     The pair hovered their brooms over the makeshift starting line ─ a twig that James had kicked with his foot so it aligned with their feet ─ and with a quick lean forward and their simultaneous chant of 3, 2, 1 go, the couple were off.

     The wind picked up immediately as the headstrong flyers pierced through it. James managed to get a slight edge on Bronwyn within the first few seconds, but both had a good pull away. The race was a rapid force of power and speed, the two constantly battling for first place, and either successfully advancing or falling an inch behind the other.

     Despite the age, the brooms flew void of any bumps or faults, evening the playing field.

     The pair shot through the air, two bullets, equally competitive, sharing fleeting sideways glances and grins of premature triumph.

     After two and a half laps, the finish line was in sight and the race continued to be a close call, leaving the victory down to the last second. James waited for the last minute, typical Slytherin foul play. But when it never came, Bronwyn slipped into a rush of wind, and slithered a second away, making it to the finish line with him at her rear.

     Bronwyn glided back onto the ground, swiftly shifting her weight from the broom's stem and onto her feet. She let the broom fall to the floor as she held her arms up in success, facing the boy as he flew down to her feet.

     "Ah, sweet, sweet victory," she said, her grin stretching from ear to ear.

     James could only shake his head, not so much in disbelief but in annoyance at himself that he ever underestimated her and also because he assumed she would cheat. And she didn't. She never has. James was forced to admit, not just out loud, but to himself, that Bronwyn Ward was a very fair flyer.

     "Never try and prove me wrong, Potter," she said, retrieving her broom and shoving it into his chest. "It will never work out for you." Bronwyn raised her brows expectantly, waiting not so patiently for her reward.

     James sighed, his head lolling back as he procrastinated his failure. Groaning, he lifted his head straight and looked her in the eyes. "Bronwyn Ward."

     "Yes?" She coyly smirked.

     "You are a better flyer than me."

     "You look like you're about to be sick," she said, her smile not once wavering.

     James pressed his lips together to form a straight, perturbed line. "I might just be. That was painful."

     "That was glorious," Bronwyn corrected him before skipping off back to the shed, revelling in her conquest.

✧

     WHEN THE SHED WAS FINALLY COMPLETE, the shelves neatly stacked and there was not a single sign of dust, the newly official couple took a step back to admire their handiwork.

     "We should start a cleaning business," James said, flinging a yellow duster over his shoulder.

     "What," she scoffed, "because we've cleaned a couple of toilets together because we were forced to and because you barged in here, talked my ear off, tried to prove to me you're a faster flyer and failed and then left me to do most of it?" She was breathless by the end of her speech, but turned to look at him with a look that read seriously? "Yeah, maybe I should start a cleaning business."

     "You were the one that offered in the first place," James defended his laziness as he held his hands up in surrender. "I just tagged along really. Your own business is a roaring success anyway."

     Bronwyn looked the boy up and down, as he waggled his hands in a sort of flashy way and she rolled her eyes. "You say it sarcastically as if that's not true."

     "I don't know enough about The Girlfriend Experience to come to a conclusion on its success actually."

     "Take it from me," Bronwyn said, closing the door of the shed and locking it up with a padlock, "I'm thriving."

     As Bronwyn pocketed the key to the shed and threw her jumper over her top, James realised how much he wanted to know about her business because it hadn't been very long at all since he found out about it. And seeing as they had a long walk back to the Dungeons, he thought now would be the perfect time. "What made you start it anyway?"

     "Craig Maxwell said I'd make a good girlfriend," Bronwyn shrugged nonchalantly. "I was nine and he was my first kiss. We were in summer camp together."

     James didn't need reminding who Craig Maxwell was.

     He let out a snort to conceal the resentment he felt for the topic of conversation. "I remember you went to that stupid camp."

     James only thought it was stupid because Bronwyn had loved it so much and his mother wouldn't let him go. She used to come home and talk so fondly of her time there and he was so jealous she got to experience fun stuff without him. It got even worse when she told him she had her first kiss, and with a muggle a couple of years older. James was intimidated and envious ─ not a good combination. Nine-year-old James wanted him to be Bronwyn's first kiss.

     "Yeah, well," she said, kicking the grass with her feet, "did me good, I suppose."

     "What happened to Maxwell in the end?" James asked, curious.

     "He lived in Newcastle. Never saw him again. I guess I never forgot what he told me."

     Bronwyn had never really thought about pinpointing the creation of The Girlfriend Experience. Somewhere in between her first kiss and wondering what it would be like to test Craig's theory of how she would be a good girlfriend and then when her dad told her she was around the right age where she should get a job. His exact words were "now that you're too old for camp, a job should be your goal, Winnie". She supposes the reminder of all her summer camp memories brought back Craig's compliment ─ he was the first boy to appreciate her humour ─ and her business was born.

     If being a good girlfriend was her talent, then she should share that knowledge with others. For the right price.

     They walked in silence until they arrived at the stairwell to the Dungeons and James felt all out of place again. It seemed that, while he had been with Bronwyn, he hadn't thought about the reaction Sirius gave when he found out, or that his teammates would eventually find out he was dating the captain, and rival Seeker, of their biggest competition. It seemed, his problems didn't surface until they were right back where they were supposed to be. Bronwyn in the Dungeons and James soon to be up the Gryffindor Tower. The natural order.

     "You know," he said as they began descending the stairs, "I don't think anyone approves of our relationship."

     Bronwyn pouted her lips in forced wistfulness, her hand coming to her chest dreamily. "A forbidden love."

     "We're like Romeo and Juliet."

     Her hand dropped instantly. "I would never kill myself for you," she deadpanned, previously thinking that fact would have been obvious.

     "That's how that play ends?" James asked incredulously, before pulling a face of befuddlement. "Why is it called the greatest love story of all time if two minors just die?"

     "I dunno," Bronwyn shrugged, letting out a big breath of air as they turned the corner, and the stone wall entrance of the Slytherin Common Room came into view. "Maybe because they died for love?"

     James stared down at her and she stared back. Sporting a look of utter disgust, James shook his head to rid himself of such a grotesque thought. "Gross."

     Bronwyn wore a very similar expression, as she verbalised her agreement with a very quick: "Ew."

     "Definitely not us."

     Bronwyn no longer found herself feeling out of place fake dating James Potter. Sure, it was not on her list of things she expected, nor wanted, to do this year, but James needed her help, she agreed, and it would all work out in the end. The idea of dating James did make her insides feel funny and her gag reflexes spark up, but both of them knew where their actual relationship stood. They knew they were both competitive, determined people and that's why a frenemy status worked ─ they'd eat each other alive if the lies they were telling people about them dating were true.

     As James slowly began to smirk, their eyes still locked, Bronwyn saw eighteen years' worth of memories where this boy smiled at her. She must have been so caught up in growing to dislike the annoying boy she was forced to share her childhood with that she never saw him as an actual companion. But right now, as those memories came flooding back, alongside the many she had experienced from the last couple of weeks, she saw a different James Potter than the one she had chosen to recognise.

     Feeling her cheeks ache from smiling, Bronwyn hadn't realised the peacefulness that had settled in the cold, dark corridor surrounding them. "Glad we agree."

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