Nine-year-old James Potter awoke that Saturday morning, the sun creeping through the window. It shown into his eyes, and he squinted at it, wishing it hadn't woken him up so early.
He was having a dream where he was playing chaser for a Quidditch game. The score was tied at seventy to seventy, and he had the quaffle. The game was very intense and challenging, and he'd been trying so hard to beat the other team. Now he'd never know who won.
James decided there was no point in staying in bed now that he was awake, and slowly got up.
Ten minutes later, he was downstairs in the kitchen, where he met his mother, who was drinking coffee and reading the Daily Prophet.
"Morning, Dear," she greeted him.
"Morning," James said with a yawn. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and sat down at the table, thinking of what to do that day.
James was frequently bored, as he usually did not have anyone to play with, being an only child. It was hard to come up with things to do all on your own. He often wished he had siblings. Instead he had to entertain himself, which got very boring sometimes.
After finishing up breakfast, James wandered around the house, wondering what he could do. Since it was Saturday, he didn't have any schoolwork to do, or any other responsibilities. This seemed great, having a free day to do whatever you liked, but James was bored already.
After circling the house a few times, James went outside in the yard. It was a beautiful day with a light breeze and bright sunlight. James walked around to the back of the houses where he came to the broom shed.
James wanted to fly more than anything. He'd gotten a new broomstick for his birthday just a few weeks ago, and loved flying on it. The problem was, he wasn't allowed to fly it by himself.
The new broom was much more advanced than his old one, and his father was teaching him how to fly it. The only time James was allowed to fly, was when his father was assisting him. Unfortunately, his father had gone away on business for the weekend, and would not be back until late the next evening. Flying was out of the question.
James sighed, walking by the broom shed, wishing he could fly. But as he walked past, he glanced back, feeling tempted.
He walked back over, opening the broom shed and taking out his most prised possession. He held the broomstick in his hand...wondering how hard it would be to fly it by himself.
It's wasn't like he had no experience flying it. His father told him he was doing well, and could fly by himself pretty soon. And he'd be careful and go slow.
The only problem was, he knew his mum would not let him go by himself. She never had liked the idea of him flying, and made sure James' father was always present when he was on a broomstick.
But he would only fly for a little bit. She wouldn't even notice him. He'd make sure to stay out of sight.
Deciding this idea was too good to pass up, James mounted the broomstick and soared into the air.
At first, it was great. James made sure to be cautious and go slow, only trying the basics his father had taught him. But after flying around for a little while, James grew bored with the same old moves, and began to forget about being careful.
Before long, James began to not only try more advanced moves, but he also forgot about staying out of sight and flew right past a window a few times.
James was having so much fun, working on the difficult moves. He decided to try a roll dive, one of the hardest moves he'd ever done. But he was sure he could handle it. He was doing so well.
James began to go into the dive, but suddenly lost control and slipped sideways, screaming and clinging to the broom, fifty feet in the air. He couldn't hang on and lost his grip, falling to the hard ground. He screamed, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting to hit the ground.
But instead of slamming into the ground, he bounced off it a few times, landing a few feet away.
After a moment, James sat up and breathed deeply, feeling lucky. He could have been seriously injured, but instead he had just…bounced.
However, he wasn't completely unharmed. He had landed on his left arm, bruising it and cutting it just a bit. Oh well, James thought, at least everything turned out okay.
"James Potter!" a voice suddenly yelled.
Or not, James thought. The voice belonged to his mother, whom, James was guessing, had just seen everything. Now he would really be in trouble. Flying without permission? His mother would kill him!
He stood up quickly, trying to think of a good excuse, but coming up with nothing as his mum approached him.
James burst into explanation. "Look, I'm sorry! I know I shouldn't have, but-"
"Oh, thank goodness you're alright!" his mother cried, throwing her arms around him.
"What?" a confused James asked.
"I saw everything from the kitchen window! You must've fallen fifty feet! I'm so glad you're okay!" James' Mum said hurriedly, still hugging him.
His mum finally let go of him, still shaken up and sobbing a bit.
"Are you injured at all?" his mum asked after a few minutes.
"Just my arm, nothing serious," James replied.
"Let's go inside and take care of that," his mum said, leading him into the house.
Once they were inside, James' mother pulled up his sleeve, healing the cuts with her wand and putting ice on the bruises. The ice felt soothing against the bruises, which had started to sting.
"You know," his mother began, "I'm wondering how you managed to escape that fall with only a few scratches and bruises."
"I don't know, I just sort of…bounced," James tried to explain.
His mum paused for a moment and then gasped, beaming at him. "Oh, James!" She hugged him.
I really don't get my mother, James thought. He felt he was sure to be in trouble for flying without permission, but instead his mother was beaming at him, fawning over him, and hugging him.
"Okay, what are you so excited about?" James finally asked.
"James…you're magical! That was your first sign of magical ability! Oh, we have another wizard in the family!"
"That was a magical sign?" James asked. But as he thought about it, it made sense. How else could he have survived that fall? James grinned to himself, feeling proud. He'd always wanted to learn magic, and now he knew he would someday get that chance.
For the rest of the day, James and his mum talked and laughed. She told him about the time she first discovered her magical abilities. How she had been having a fight with her sister, and somehow she had turned her sister's hair bright purple. James laughed, imagining his Aunt with purple hair. She shared a few more stories about times her magical abilities had made her life that much more interesting.
That night, just before James went to bed, his mum came in and sat down next to him. She told him how proud and excited she was that James was a wizard, and how someday he'd go off to Hogwarts to learn magic and become a great wizard, though she'd miss him while he was away.
James told her how excited he would be to learn magic, but he would also miss being home with her. He also thanked her for taking care of him and being so proud of him.
Finally, his mum smiled at him and asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Just fine," James replied, smiling.
"Good," his mother patted his arm. "Now we can discuss what on earth you were thinking today! Flying a broomstick without permission? Honestly, James!"
James sighed, wondering why the good feelings had to end so fast.