James was staring stupidly at fifteen-year-old Lily, wondering why she wasn't following them like she said she would, when twenty-one-year-old Lily seemed to realize why. Oh. So she'd hurt herself. James's heart twinged a little bit--this girl, was, after all, family--and he nodded at his Lily when she asked, and walked back for the other Lily.
"You must play Quidditch." He said conversationally, gesturing towards her foot. "Normal girls would cry with an ankle as banged-up as that, but Quidditch players just try to ignore it." James was waiting for her to express want of his help, so not to startle her or scare her any further.
"I can help you walk or carry you, it's up to you. Either way we're going to be together for awhile, so there's no use in not getting to know one another. Tell me, who do you support? Quidditch-wise, that is."