The Perfect Broom
A/N : So originally I wrote this for my creative writing class about a week ago. My friends have read it and loved it. So I thought hey, why not? And here it is posted in all of its fluffy familial epicness. Let me know what you think. Read and enjoy!
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Disclaimer: the original story of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling
James Sirius' POV
Ever so timidly I reached out and brushed the handle. I don't know why I was so nervous, it's not like I haven't touched or ridden a broom before. The faded gold letter of its name had shown it was obviously well loved. As I examined the broom further I noticed its tail was trimmed and kept neat. The broom was polished and perfect, like it was brand new. The very tip of the handle held another inscription: happy thirteenth Prongslet, have fun. Your god father Sirius Black. "This is Dad's?" I whispered in wonder. I had never seen it before, it was obviously from when dad was around Lily's age. I tilted my head to the side and thought.
"James? Jamie, Love, what are you doing up here?" My mum asked. I swallowed nervously and turned around, my cheeks tinged pink in slight embarrassment.
"Oh, erm, well, Dad sent me to, um, get that…you know-the uh, thing…..?" I said rubbing the back of my head, creating a bigger mess of my black-brown mop of natural bed head-like hair. Mum tilted her head in disbelief, and then said' "Your father's not home yet." I swallowed again and ran hand though my swooped and tangled bangs, and suddenly became very interested in the hole in my Gryffindor colored sock.
"James Sirius Potter you know better than to be in our room without our permission. Why are you really up here?" she asked, her brown eyes that Lily had inherited narrowed, I bit my lip and refused to make eye contact. "Jamie come here." I looked up, Mum was sitting on her bed, and she was looking at the broom with a faraway look. "It's called a Firebolt. Bring it here, babe." I picked up the ancient broom delicately and placed it gently on the bed.
"Why doesn't he ride it anymore?" I asked stroking the broom ever so slightly.
"Your father stopped riding it because he stopped needing too." Mum looked at the broom sadly with a certain fondness in her chocolaty eyes. "I told him to get rid of it ages ago. But he insisted that we keep it, I don't know why though. I think it's because it's one of the only things that he can tie to his god father."
"Dad played quidditch didn't he?" I asked noticing the tiniest nicks and scratches that the polish didn't fill or repair, signs of a true quidditch broom.
"He didn't just play, your father was the quidditch captain of Gryffindor at sixteen, your father was the definition of quidditch in school. The best flyer and trickiest by far of any player I've ever seen." Mum smiled tears brimming in her eyes as if remembering her schooling.
"Then why didn't he go pro like you?" I asked holding the broom in my hands again, it was smooth and soft, it had certain warmth that only a good broom could have. It was shivering with power and I could almost feel its need to fly again.
"Because he felt a stronger urge to protect, he had always been drawn to the aspect of being an Auror. Not a quidditch player." Mum said wiping her eyes.
"Oh." was all I said. I examined the broom further, I noticed a slight crack in the handle. "Mum, how did this happen?" I asked pointing to the gash in the broom's side.
"When he was just about to turn seventeen, we had to technically kidnap him so Voldemort wouldn't swoop in and kill him when he did become a legal wizard. During that escape his ride took a nasty turn and this poor thing was sent back to earth. Shortly after that his pet owl died, your father was so torn up about both that he couldn't speak for the first five minutes after his arrival. Uncle Bill went out to find a few fallen warriors and in the process found the Firebolt. He gave it back to your father when the war had ended. But it's never been able to fly quite right since." She tilted her head to the side and studied the broom for a moment. Then her smile came back. "You know when I was fifteen, I got real jealous of everyone on the Gryffindor quidditch team and in the boys dormitory getting to ride this thing, except me, your father's co-captain. So one night after hours I decided to sneak up to your father's dorm and ride the bloody thing and return it before morning so he'd never notice it was gone. But at the time I had no idea how light a sleeper he really was, and how much of a night owl he could be if he was really truly stressed out, which he was. So when I opened the door and tiptoed toward his bed I hadn't really noticed that he was sitting up looking at that map. Oh don't look at me like that you know which map I'm speaking of, anyway. As I neared his bed your father looked up and-"
"Gin? Jamie? Lils? Al? Hello? I'm home!" I heard Dad half heartedly yell into the depths of our home, as the front door swung closed behind him. Mum smiled as we listened to him mutter about the business of our family. I could imagine him shaking his head wearily. I snickered as Mum went to the door.
"Upstairs, Hon." She called before returning to her sitting place on her bed. "Right, where was I?" she asked squinting her eyes and pursing her lips into a tight line as she thought.
"You were in Dad's dorm and he was about to catch you-"
"Stealing my broom?" Dad finished making us both jump, I actually fell out of their giant bed. I glared up at him, Curse him and his sneaky Auror walk! I grumbled in my head. Mum giggled and helped me up on to the bed. "Now which time is this story?" Dad asked joining us on the bed, he looked down at his Firebolt fondly.
"The first time." Mum said rolling her eyes playfully. Dad's eyes widened with recognition slightly before he nodded for her to continue with the story. "Anyway, he looked up and smiled, you that smile that makes you feel immediately guilty before you ever act on whatever it is you want to act on." Mum asked, I nodded knowing full well what she meant. Dad gives me that smile a little too often. "Well he gave me that smile, and I just stood there staring back him in disbelief for about five minutes when he finally asked, 'Gin, what are you doing up here' and I believe I stuttered something along the lines of, 'Oh I just wanted to ride your broom.'" She looked at Dad for conformation. Dad snickered.
"I think it was little bit more unintelligible than that." He said stifling a laugh.
"Okay, fine, but still, I said something and your father laughed quietly before looking at me again. And I believe you said 'Seriously Gin why are you up here?' and I replied with another gibberish response before starting to retreat to the door." Dad nodded and Mum continued, " and then he grabbed my hand stopping me from leaving…."
Flashback:
"Gin?" Ginny looked back at Harry, his piercing green eyed gaze caught off guard, yet again. "What's going on? Are you okay?" Ginny nodded but felt the tears well in her eyes. She and Dean had yet another fight that night, just after dinner. He was being pushy again, and of course Harry knew, for some reason Harry always knew when a boy friend was mistreating her. "No you're not. Don't lie to me, I already have enough people lying to me, not you too. Please? Tell me the truth?" Harry ran an anxious hand through his messy jet black hair. He met her eyes again with more intensity than before.
"I-I just wanted to ride your broom okay? To feel that freedom everyone else is always talking about." Ginny snapped, then she dropped her gaze and muttered, "I need freedom…so badly." Harry heard every word, he always could, and most of the time he would never comment on it, but he always tried to act. He pulled her in to a tight reassuring hug before letting her go and turning back to his bed. Ginny wasn't sure what he was doing when suddenly he had a hoodie on and his Firebolt laying across one shoulder, he had another hoodie draped across the other arm.
"Here, you'll get cold." He tossed her the hoodie and led her out to the balcony of the boys dorm. He opened the giant window. Ever so quietly, yet another thing Ginny loved about Harry, his ability to be so absolutely quiet, and yet make such a huge impression. He mounted the three year old top of the line broom. Then he looked back at her, "You coming?" Ginny smiled and climbed onto the back of the broom and wrapped her arms around Harry's well toned torso, Ginny couldn't help but blush, Harry didn't grace many girls with a chance at midnight broom-riding, with him, on his Firebolt, just the two of them. The wind whipped through her hastily thrown up ponytail and Harry's hair making it more attractively messy. Ginny couldn't help but laugh loudly at the feeling, of flying around with her long time crush, the cold wind forced her to press a little tighter into Harry's warm back. Harry told the broom to turn slightly, Ginny looked down and saw the black lake just below them, so close she could touch it, their reflections in the moonlit lake made Ginny realize how good they really looked together. She shook the thought from her mind, Harry's practically your brother, remember that, he's also your brother's best friend. She scolded herself. "Go ahead..reach out." Harry encouraged gesturing with his shoulder to the lake, Ginny timidly did so, the feeling of the cool water against her skin made her shiver and huddle closer to Harry. Harry laughed , a rare sound now a days, with the war and all. But Ginny enjoyed it all the same, he sounded almost younger happier than Ginny had ever remembered, she giggled as well burying her face in his back, feeling the baritone rumble from his chest cavity vibrate up to her cheek bones. She laughed a little more, he's happiness was addictive and contagious. Ginny would have to try and get him to laugh more often…
End of Flashback
"And from that point on, whenever I was feeling down or Your father needed and escape we'd go for little midnight broom riding exertions. And then when the final match of the Quidditch season had ended, Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw 450-140, I snogged the sense out of your father when he walked into the Common room. And we've been together ever since." Mum finished. I smiled and looked down at broom and thought about what my parents had said. I guess in a way Quidditch and broom riding has a larger impact on my family than I originally thought. I thought it was just a genetic trait that made us noticeably better than anybody else who tried out for the team. I guess it's not only that it's the one thing that caused my parents to come together, that was the founding glue of our family. I smiled and looked over at the Firebolt's wall mounts , I saw something I hadn't noticed, the pictures of our family. Mum and Dad right after their wedding, A picture of me laughing, another of Albus being shy and Lily with a lily and smiling dreamily at the flower. Under the wall mounts was our family name in gold lettering with a scarlet offset: The Potters. I smiled bigger. The Firebolt really is the Perfect broom.