"Girl Got Game"
By: Liebling
Posted On: 29 August 2004
Re-Vamped: March 2006
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters 'cause they all belong to the Literature goddess name Joanne Rowling T.T - The storyline isn't even mine…It belongs to the great Shizuru Seino and her manga series, "Girl Got Game". Any Quidditch references are most likely used from my copy of 'Quidditch through the Ages'. So you see how little I own? T.T

Summary: How far is Lily's uncle going to push her into being a Quidditch star? Is moving to another country and posing as a boy really necessary? All Lily wanted was a regular life as teenager when she left Beauxbatons after the death of her parents and disownment from her sister. She really wasn't prepared to go to a new school (even if their Quidditch teams are totally fab), or live in a horrible lie involving entirely around some serious gender bending and cross dressing. What a life for poor Lily...but hey, that cute chaser James Potter just might make up for all of it…if only he weren't such a jerk.

Chapter 1
"How Far is too Far?"


Die, you bastard! Die, die, DIE!

My fist slammed around my nightstand until the screaming alarm clock was knocked to the floor. Wretched thing; deserved to burn and die, I say.

I groaned into my pillow. I am a firm believer that there is no form of life whatsoever before eleven o'clock on weekends. One thing was for sure; I was never ever, EVER, getting out of my nice, warm, cosy, comfy—Ooh! I smell croissants!

I threw off the covers, leapt over the fallen alarm clock, and ran down the stairs to the kitchens where there was sure to be some delicious bakery goods. Personally, I was genuinely touched that my uncle would go out of his way to make me feel better about going to a new school.

My uncle John is most possibly the most uber-cool person to ever walk the face of the earth.

All right, maybe not the earth's entire circumference. Possibly just Britain. Yeah, that sounds about right.

I had moved in with John after my parents were killed the following week I returned to school after the Christmas holidays in a Death Eater raid near my hometown Arques, France. I hadn't seen my sister Petunia since their funerals but I know that she also left France in favour of England to attend a university and I'm almost certain she's engaged now. We don't keep in touch and only a DNA test could prove our relation.

The onslaught of these thoughts was almost enough to drive me back into my new room like I had ever since I returned from school last May. I was so lucky that John had been so wonderful to me.

I had previously attended Beauxbatons Académie de Sorciers pour les Jeunes Filles back in France when I had lived with my parents and my sister, Petunia.

Mum was born and raised and France, and my parents met when my dad was just visiting from England over break at a French university. Needless to say, it was years before they could date due to the language barrier and is also why I grew up knowing both English and French. Therefore no one in all of England would assume that I had lived nearly half of my life in France and vise-versa.

Both of my parents were not magical like me and it's the same reason why they were killed.

After they died, I was left to finish up my fifth year at Beauxbatons before I went moved back to Britain with my godfather and my father's half-brother, John. He is the only one in the entire Evans family to possess any sort of magical powers. John just turned twenty-eight in June, but I swear he hasn't aged a mental day since he was eighteen. He's more like a cool older cousin and not a croony uncle. Not to mention he's a humorous, enjoyable person, and a Quidditch fanatic! Just like me!

I have always, and I repeat, ALWAYS loved Quidditch. Uncle John had always hoped that I would be a witch so that he would have someone to teach the rules of the game to.

Huzzah! He got his wish on the seventeenth of May in 1970, when I got my acceptance letter to the best boarding school for witchcraft in all of France.

The next day was, conveniently, the Quidditch semi-finals and John kidnapped me from my room, (well, he left my folks a note), and took me to see the Greek Griffins verses the Scottish Krakens.

But even before that, uncle John would tell me stories about a magical sport that I never would have figured was actually derived from reality.

My uncle and I attended every seasonal game from there on out, and he was even able to wrangle two World Cup tickets one year.

As much as I loved the sport, I was not able to convince our Beauxbatons headmistress to organize school teams. It was the first thing I had looked into when I got there. The only thing they had was a Quidditch Club for the few and the proudly dedicated girls who truly wanted to play. We had mock games and practiced playing positions, and even tried to organize games within our small group, but it didn't quite work out…I was briefly suspended from the club when I was told I was being "too aggressive" by some stupid professor.

My best position is most definitely lead chaser, but I make a pretty good beater if I may say so.

Getting back on track, I ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to see that Jean had indeed bought—Merlin knew he can't cook—a batch of croissants that he was currently pulling out of the oven, (for good effect, I would assume).

"'Morning, Lily," he said happily.

"Bonjour, mon oncle!" I answered, plucking a croissant off the tray.

"You're in England, Lily love, let's use English please. Or at least Spanish; that one I know marginally well." John laughed and put the rest of the batch on a cooling rack.

"Good morning, Mr. Picky-pants." I said again, trying to get a rise out of him. He's usually so passive (sans any Quidditch games and after-parties), so it's fun trying to push his buttons.

I took a seat at the table where John had elaborately given me a bowl of cereal with banana's at the bottom—I could see them poking up through the milk—two slices of toast, and a tall glass of orange juice.

On any other occasion, I would have assumed that he wanted something, or at least tell me some bad news, but I figured that he didn't want me to be nervous for school in the upcoming week. I took a bite of the croissant and sat down to eat the rest of my breakfast.

"Any good?" John asked me.

"Yeah," I swallowed, "Which bakery did you get this batch from?"

Uncle John looked highly affronted.

"I beg your pardon, young lady!" he said putting a hand to his chest as if insulted. "I've been up since the crack of dawn slaving over a hot oven and you deny me any form of credit?"

I rolled my eyes. Honestly, he think that just because I've lived in France for most of my life that he can just stereotype us all into liking croissants.


"You've finished all of your course requirements for Hogwarts?"

I frowned at the name, but nodded.

"Seriously, John," I said, "You mean to tell me that this school you went to, a school called HOG—WARTS is supposed to be the best school in all of Europe?"

"It's only been the best school for a thousand years, Lily!" he said, obviously. "Don't be such a ninny,"

Yup, that's me: Lily Evans, world's greatest ninny.

Personally, I'm not crazy about transferring to another school in another country just for my sixth and seventh year. I miss France and I miss Beauxbatons.

Oh, and I supposed I miss Charlotte as well. Although, she probably would have shot me if she caught me calling her "Charlotte"…

"Call me…Charlie," she had said one evening at dinner back in second year, (in French of course, because that was the only language the school taught in).

"Charlie," I repeated, dumfounded.

"Yes, it sounds so…" she searched for the right word.

"Like the modern American man?"

She really didn't need to elbow me.

"I was going to say rebellious," she snapped.

"Right," I shrugged, "Suit yourself,"

Of course, I stopped teasing her when she tried to hex my hair into strangling me…

But I'm really going to miss playing Quidditch with her and John on the weekends. I must've looked depressed or something as my head slumped down dejectedly so I tried to think about my new school uniform from Diagon Alley that was due to arrive that morning. Uncle Jean had already gotten me my schoolbooks at the end of May when I had moved.

"Just four more days until school." John cut into my thoughts, "Are you excited?" He turned on the coffee pot and began to peel a banana.

I shrugged as I finished the croissant and moved on to my cereal.

"What're you looking forward to the most?" he asked.

Hm…there were no boys at Beauxbatons…the uniforms had not appeared in Witch Weekly's most admirable school-wear, unlike the Hogwart's female uniforms.

"Boys, and pretty uniforms," I said dopily.

John looked slightly putout. "So…are you…do you think you'll enjoy their Quidditch program? I've only heard good things about their teams." He leaned against the counter while his coffee finished.

Oh, yeah, Quidditch.

Boys and pretty skirts kind of do kind of pale in comparison. Good gravy, what was I thinking? It was too bloody early in the morning to be thinking properly, I reasoned.

"I'm really excited to play on an actual team," I said, quickly amending, but I just couldn't help adding: "But the school has the cutest uniforms for the girls!" It was my inner anti-tomboy teenage pre-woman part of me that made me say it! (She threatened to clobber me with her stilettos…!)

"The skirts are so adorable! And they really make the colour black work nicely for them! I think the Ravenclaw house has the nicest colours to go with black…and Gryffindor's and Slytherin's are nice too…I'm not so sure about Hufflepuff's though…."

Dear lord, who gave my mouth a mind of its own?

"Yes well—" he coughed politely "—It's not all about the clothes, dear, don't forget about Quidditch—"

I nodded furiously until a flutter of feathers went by his head.

I gasped loudly.

"It's here! It's here! It's here!"

Stupid anti-inner tomboy!

I ran to take the one parcel from the five screeching owls, and the letter and opened the heavy parchment first.

I could've sworn I heard Jean say, "This should be interesting…" but I shrugged it off.


Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Wow, bragging much?

Dear Mr. Evans,

Mister? Must have been a misprint…

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Term begins on September 1st. Your uncle has already owled us in reply and you are scheduled to meet in my office on first floor upon arrival to find your dorm.

Your uncle also informed us that you have most of the requirements and necessities needed for your sixth year such as your cauldron, potion vials, gloves, telescope, etc. etc… for your lessons as well as his full permission to attend Hogsmeade on the designated weekends.

Please inform your uncle that you will not be excused from classes or permitted off-grounds to attend seasonal Quidditch games.

WHAT? The devil woman!

"Why the hell not?" roared John from behind me.

I jumped; I didn't realise he had been reading over my shoulder.

We normally do not allow transfers, but under the circumstances and special approval given from Professor Albus Dumbledore we extend an official welcome to you from Hogwarts.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress.

Uncle John was back over near the coffee pot, mumbling obscenities about the McGonagall woman.

"Well she sounded stiff…and they even called me a boy!" I waved my hands around, pointing to the paper. "Honestly! Pas au cas où ils traiter leurs nouveaux étudiants un peu plus gentils? Comment grossier!" Can't they treat their new students a little bit nicer? Rude much? I huffed.

Yes, huffed.

"Er—Lily? Why don't you open the two packages…" John poured that long awaited caffeine, also known as coffee, and I could've sworn I heard his teeth chattering nervously against the mug.

Being just a little bit greedy, I ripped open the first package to see nearly fifteen pounds of books. No wonder they needed extra owls. I had ordered some extra books for background references about the school and such that I wanted to have just in case. I neatly put them aside on the table and moved to my second parcel.

The uniforms had better make up for my having to move across the continent, leaving my home, my friends, Beauxbatons, and go to a school who's named after a pig's skin condition.

I pulled out a long, handsome black robe that had silver fastenings and folded it on the table.

Sooo pretty!

I continued to pull out the other work robes and the winter cloak, the casual everyday black hat with the Hogwarts school crest on it, the vests that looked a little to masculine for my lean (and tragically flat) feminine physique…and the tie mandatory for both genders, though mine lacked any house colours.

I was getting just a bit frantic when I couldn't find my set of skirts that I could use to—heehee—show off my legs.

Oh, if only my parents could see me now…

…they would be completely furious THAT THEY SENT ME TROUSERS INSTEAD!

You can imagine my surprise when I pulled out several pairs of gray coloured slacks when I had been eagerly anticipating my skirt that had been voted No.1 in female school uniforms by Witch Weekly's readers.

Uncle John had backed away slowly from my frozen figure standing at the table.

"Do you know something about this?" I said with such an amount of deadly calmness that I even scared myself as I turned on him. "Where's my skirt?" I said dangerously, walking over towards John. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"O-of course not, love," he gulped.

"Then did I miss something?" I yelled.

"Uh…now Lily…" my uncle faltered. "Y-You re-re-remember when we talked last spring a-about you wanting to play Quidditch this year?" He was backed into a wall cowering in fear of me. Me! Cool and calm Lily who was, quite possibly, going to be sent to Azkaban for violent manslaughter over a skirt! "W-well—uh—Hogwarts isn't just known for th-the cute girls' uniforms…it's also has some of the best Quidditch s-school teams in all of Britain…"

"I know…That's why we agreed on Hogwarts, remember?" I snipped as I began to close in on him.

"Well, yes…B-but, they didn't have enough girls that wanted to play f-f-for each house to have a team…see? S-so they had to r-r-reject th-the idea…"

"So what are you saying?" I felt my eyes narrow dangerously.

Surely Jean wouldn't have gone and done something stupid, right?

"Uh—well you know how I wanted to play in the IQA, but they said I was to old…" Oh yeah, I knew all about it and rolled my eyes. Uncle John was a great Quidditch player, but had terrible asthma, not to mention a knee that never really healed from a childhood incident. I knew he always dreamed of play in the International Quidditch Association as a beater, and was more broken up about not being able to play than being dumped by his long-time girlfriend.

But what the hell did this have to do with me?

"Well…here's your chance to live my dream!" He said happily and expected that I would react the same.

I almost swallowed my own tongue.

"Are you crazy, you stupid, stupid old man?" I yelled.


"First, above all, I am a GIRL She pointed to herself. "This uniform—" I grabbed it off the table and waved it around wildly, "—is for UN GARÇON!" I shoved the pants in his face for him to see, just in case he was nearsighted.


"It's okay!" said John. "I took care of everything! I forged your paperwork—"


"Oh, don't worry! I'll send you some casual 'guy' stuff for you to wear on the weekends. I've thought of everything, so no need to be concerned!"

It finally hit me then. "YOU WANT ME TO PRETEND TO BE A BOY?"

John just kept talking, "You'll be sleeping with the guys—" Holy cheese crackers, what kind of uncle encouraged this? "—Oh! And your name is 'Li'."

"LI?" I said, voice cracking.

"Yup! I think in Chinese it means 'strength'…or 'pear'; I can't remember which at the moment," he trailed off thoughtfully. "It'll be a great conversation starter and a way for you to meet new friends!"

I looked at uncle John's eyes as they became unfocused as he reflected on his past.

Admittedly, I saw the sad, pathetic look of disappointment that radiated off his face, and as much as I was furious with him at the time, I couldn't bear the thought of him in a depression-like state of mind.

I mean, so what he wanted me to pretend to be a boy during my more vital years and miss out on important social developments? So what I will never be able to go on a first date until I was eighteen? So what if I'll never have my first kiss? So—freakin'­—what?

Big deal, right? I mean, the man did take me in after my parents were killed.

Oh, god, I think I'm going to cry.

I was going to need one hell of a lot of 'li' if I was going to do this right. I loved my uncle to bits and pieces, and I loved Quidditch, too….But this was too much to ask a teenager who just lost her parents a couple months back. I have dreams, too!

And I wanted a boyfriend, damn it!

Outwardly, I only sighed. It just didn't seem fair not to have a girl's Quidditch team. Why was everything always centred on the men anyways? Uuugh, behind every man there is a better woman, I say. I knew John wanted me to do it…and I really did want to play…besides, I could date when I was out of school, right? And no one would recognise me, right?


Uncle John must've noticed my inward brooding and grinned broadly. "Great! Let's go get your hair cut!"

Hold the phone.



Just outside the house, the birds that were peacefully resting on their perches took off into the sky.

Stupid barber!

He should be thankful that all I did was just bite him! Putting that shaving thing right near my head, honestly

There had been a long debate on just how to cut my hair. John wanted me to just shave it off "marine style" or whatever, and I said that it looked just fine, thankyouverymuch.

He eventually pulled me aside and said that all I needed to do was cast a small charm on it over the summer when I got home for the holidays.

Reluctantly, very reluctantly, I agreed.

Actually, Jean promised to by me an owl if I cooperated, so…

…yeah, my opinion is (obviously) easily swayed.

I sighed when I looked in the mirror. My hair was cut razor style, and looked shaggy, short, and, well, bloke-ish. It barely reached the bottom of my earlobe for goodness sake!

Jean had said I could keep my fourteen inches of heart-red hair after he apparated us home. The hair that had been previously attached to my head lay limply on my dresser.

"Oh bugger and bollocks,"

Trying to take my mind of my sudden loss of hair, I went to the closet and pulled out my school trunk. I ran my fingers over the thick rough cover and leather straps before pulling it open.

I slowly and sluggishly began to fold and pack the robes, sweaters, and vests hanging in my closet, leaving out all girly shirts and form-fitting jeans.

It was strange really, the thought of posing as a boy at a new school hardly bothered me anymore. I didn't know anyone to really care to impress them, I supposed. It was like a grown-up version of playing pretend. The only thing I did know was Quidditch and Merlin knows what I'd do for the love of a sport.

I put all but two books in there as well. I wanted to read the extra books the school had given me, Hogwarts: A History so I would understand the school's origins, and Charm Your Life, a book about strange and yet oddly useful charms.

Figuring that I had better write to Charlie and tell her that I would try to visit over Christmas break, I went to my desk and pulled out some old Beauxbatons stationary and quickly scribbled out a note.

I was finishing the last line—don't do anything seriously stupid with out me—when I heard my name being called.

"Lily! Dinner in five!" my uncle called from down the stairs.

Sealing the letter quickly, I threw a stamp on it before briskly walking down the stairs and down to the end of her driveway to put the letter in the mailbox. I was really beginning to want that owl; I hated using Charlie's or one of the schools. I also decided that it would be best not to tell Charlie the favour I was doing my uncle, but just talked about my break and said that I missed her.

As I walked back into the house, it suddenly hit me what I was doing. I was going to pretend to be a boy for the next ten months.

Karma seriously had better be giving me bonus points for all of this.



Yeaup, this is why getting the next chapter up took so long -_-;

All of the previous ones just had to be re-edited because I am just so OCD on some things.

R/R for me!