Harry was having a hard time forcing down breakfast before he took to the Quidditch field for the first time against Slytherin. The anticipation had been building for weeks, but Harry just wasn't sure he was ready. He had seen many games before with his dad and marveled at the Seekers' speed and agility on their broomsticks. Despite Wood and McGonagall's confidence in him, he was sure he'd never be able to play like Charlie Weasley. His stomach knotted even more firmly against the prospect of toast and sausage.

The eleven-year-old wasn't sure if he was grateful or anxious about the fact that his father had made plans to come to watch. Hogwarts frequently had visitors come to see the matches and alumni from Hogsmeade filled the stands next to the students, sporting their house colors and cheering loudly. Still, Harry wasn't sure if he wanted his father to intrude on the world of Hogwarts.

A hero of the wizarding world, Harry never was able to glide under the radar, but being with his famous father always made more of a stir. If he didn't embarrass himself on the field, then no doubt James would do something to unwittingly arm Malfoy for the next month or so. But Harry couldn't help grinning and waving when James walked into the breakfast room. He wore a brilliant gold and red scarf and his eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he found his son.

"Uncle James!" Ron called excitedly. James came and shook his hand. Ron turned a little pink at being treated like an adult. It rarely happened to the youngest Weasley son.

James gave Harry a brief, one-armed embrace, doing his best not to embarrass the boy. Then he met Hermione and shook hands with a number of Harry's friends. A small crowd gathered, hoping to be included.

"Good luck today!" James said, seeing that Harry was too nervous to talk and that the attention was making him uncomfortable. He took a seat between McGonagall and Dumbledore at the teacher's table. Harry felt his scar prickle and his eyes went to Snape, who was staring at him with a look of pure malevolence. Too far away to hear what was said, he saw James greet all the other teachers with a cordial smile. Then Snape's eyes turned to the elder Potter and his face grew even more angry and spiteful. The potion master might dislike Harry, but that was nothing compared to his open contempt and hatred of James Potter.

Harry saw his father's smile vanish and his eyes darken angrily as they passed contemptuously over Snape's features. McGonagall said something that distracted him and gradually the more convivial expression returned. Not of the first time, Harry wondered about what had occurred to inspire such mutual hatred between the two men.

He had little time to think on it because he was soon bustled outdoors, where the sun shone brightly, though the autumn day was cold. He put on his dragonhide gloves and donned the scarlet uniform. His broomstick in his hand, he listened with only half an ear to Wood's melodramatic speech-making. Then, before he was ready, it was time to launch himself into the air. The Gryffindor's roared their approval as the team arrived, warming up by zooming up and down the pitch a few times.

James found Ron and Hermione, smiling warmly at his son's friends. They quickly made room for him, glad for their friend but unsure about what to say to the famous Auror. The awkwardness was dispelled when Hagrid arrived late for the match and took a seat on James' other side.

"It's good to see yeh!" Hagrid said warmly to James as his eyes scanned the action on the field. "I knew Harry'd be following in your footsteps, but never imagined he'd make Seeker at his age!"

James grinned proudly. "He is always surprising me."

"Now, let's hope he doesn't get clobbered!" Hagrid said optimistically.

James' grin faltered a bit and they both turned to watch the game.

"The Nimbus2000 is something else," Ron said admiringly as they watched Harry loop-the-loop a few times.

"Harry's been asking for one for months," James agreed with a smile.

Hermione smiled. "Usually, first years aren't even allowed broomsticks, but they made an exception for Harry!"

"Yes, I was surpris—" James was distracted by the jolting motion of Harry's broom. "What's he doing?" he said with concern.

The friends all turned their eyes to Harry and his misbehaving broom. Harry was flung about wildly and held on only with wily determination. "It can't have been tampered with, can it?" James breathed to Hagrid, hand gripping his wand.

"No," Hagrid said with gruff concern, "not the Nimbus?"

"It should be vulnerable to anything but strong dark magic," James said tightly as he watched his son's wild climb. Hermione was scanning the crowd with Hagrid's binoculars, urgently looking for the one responsible.

"It's Snape!" she cried, getting James' attention.

"What?" he snapped with a hard voice, taking the binoculars from her hands and seeing his old enemy practicing what he assumed to be a complicated jinx on his son's broom. "I'll kill him."

The first years who heard his dark pronouncement were convinced of his utter sincerity. James dropped the binoculars and ran through the crowd toward Snape. He roughly shoved by Quirrell, drew back a powerful fist, and punched Severus squarely in the jaw. The wizard, who hadn't taken his eyes off of Harry, crumpled immediately to the ground. James absently rubbed his hand as he glanced up at Harry, who now had regained control of the broom and went into a dive. McGonagall was at Snape's side as the stadium erupted into pandemonium. The head of Gryffindor managed to revive Snape, then looked up at the Auror as if he'd lost his wits.

James' face was grave as he watched Harry make the final dive that ended the game.

"James Potter, what on earth-?" Minerva was scolded as she helped Severus sit up. James turned back to Snape, snarling.

"What were you doing to his broomstick?" he demanded, wand pointing at Snape's heart.

"Put that thing away!" McGongall scolded. "There are students present, Mr. Potter!"

"This man has just made an attempt on my son's life!" James accused.

"Enough!" said Dumbledore's powerful voice. "Enough, James. He did nothing of the sort."

"I know what I saw!" James said angrily. "You're a fool to have trusted him, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore helped a furious Snape to his feet, restraining the potions professor from getting his revenge with a hand on his shoulder. "There are venues more suitable for discussions of this nature," Dumbledore said with finality.

James tore his hate-filled eyes from Severus and found Harry. The boy's face was riveted on the confrontation with concern. Harry's momentary triumph at winning the game had faded as soon as he'd looked up to see his father arguing fiercely with Snape. James rushed forward through the crowd, stopping himself from gathering Harry up in his arms at the last moment. Instead, he gripped Harry's shoulders fiercely. "Are you alright?" he demanded.

Harry nodded, afraid to speak.

"Go with Hagrid. I will find you later." The large gamekeeper lumbered forward and nodded assent as James disappeared with Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall. Ron and Hermione arrived breathlessly and followed Hagrid toward his cottage, all speaking at once about they had seen or suspected. Only Harry stayed quiet, confused and shocked by the events of the afternoon. His scar twinged ominously as he was carefully extracted from the crowd.

James followed the headmaster, who kept a hand on Snape the whole time, though Dumbledore seemed more interesting in supporting and comforting the younger man than on rebuking him.

Once they had made their way to privacy of the Headmaster's quarters, it was McGonagall who spoke first, her accent harsh as she scolded. "What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" she demanded of James.

"He nearly got Harry killed!" James said angrily.

"That is nonsense!" McGonagall thundered.

"I saw—"

"You saw Severus performing protective magic to try to save Harry's life," McGonagall snapped. "Really James, I expected more of you."

Severus, while still outraged, took some satisfaction at the shadow of doubt that crossed James' face. James ignored the gloating face of his long-time rival and turned to Dumbledore. "If not Severus, then who?" he demanded.

He was greeted with a stony, uncomfortable silence. Not one of them had even a guess at who could have penetrated the Hogwarts defenses.

"I thought he was safe here," James said quietly. "I thought I could trust you," this time his betrayed look encompassed McGonagall and Dumbledore, not just Snape.

"The boy goes out of his way to put himself in dangerous situations," Snape said, cutting through the silence with a sneer.

"By playing Quidditch?" James replied hotly.

"By chasing Trolls," Snape answered coldly.

"From what I heard, he handled himself well," James replied, anger and helplessness making his voice hard.

"Harry has a lot to learn," Dumbledore said evenly. "We are doing our best to protect him while he comes into his own. But, as you know, there are dangers even here at Hogwarts."

"Then my son shouldn't be at Hogwarts," James stated flatly.

"Yes, we all saw how you protect your son," Snape snickered. "He would be so much safer with you."

"Stay away from Harry, you back-stabbing traitor," James snapped.

"Professor Snape has risked his life for the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said coldly, "He is not Harry's enemy."

"Honestly, James. Can't you see how foolish you are being?" McGonagall entreated.

James scowled. He stood up to go.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I assume you will go directly to see Harry in Hagrid's hut?" he said firmly, recalling the edict he'd made long ago that James must report his purpose while visiting Hogwarts.

James stiffened, but nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"It was Snape!" Harry said angrily when James came into the room. "What did he do that to my broom for?"

James looked a little shame-faced. "I may… have been mistaken," he said quietly.

"But Hermione said –" Harry stated belligerently.

"It certainly looked like it," James agreed, "but he claims that he was using protective magic to steady you."

"You believe that?" Harry scoffed.

"Dumbledore does," James replied evenly. "And Professor McGonagall."

"'n so do I," Hagrid put in. "There's got to be some other explanation."

"Dad, you punched him in the face," Harry said, flabbergasted. "And now you're taking it back?" Snape would probably murder him during their next Potions lesson. If he hadn't wanted to kill Harry before, now he certainly would.

"There is no love lost between Severus and me," James admitted. "I don't trust him and I don't want you associating with him outside of class."

"Not likely," Harry said sourly. "He hates me almost as muct as he hates you!"

"He is a Hogwarts professor," Hagrid said defensively.

"Which doesn't make him a saint," James said. "But he was Lily's friend," he reluctantly added. "Before the war, she always defended him."

Harry was quiet, not used to hearing James talk about his mother.

"But you are obviously not safe here, Harry," James continued, dismissing the subject. "I'm not sure if I should let you remain here after an attempt was made on your life."

"Don't make me leave," Harry said, voice colder and harder than James had ever heard it. "Don't you dare, Dad."

James eyes flickered to his determined son. "Just promise me that you'll be careful."

"I will," Harry said immediately.

James looked at him, desperately wanting to say more. He knew it was no use, though, telling Harry not to go rushing into danger. His son was horrifyingly brave and dismayingly selfless. James just prayed that Harry would also be lucky.