Prompt: First time flying
"Okay, put your hands here," James instructed, satisfied when his pupil did so without fuss. "Then, you swing one leg over– but make sure it's steady before you mount your broom!" he called with a chuckle, dismounting to help his newest pupil back onto their broom.
"Now that we're on the broom," he said, "we're going to start easy. Okay? Just go in a straight line to the bench over there." He demonstrated, making sure his broom remained low, even though every instinct in him wanted to go shooting off into the sky in chase of his snitch.
He watched with a teacher's critical eye as the second flier made their way over to where he hovered. A natural.
Slowly, he demonstrated the techniques of flying, how to get back on your broom, and how to grip the boom to have more control over your movements. With each skill, his pupil grew bolder and bolder, more confident in their inherent flying ability. "Now," James instructed, "what you're going to do is–"
He was cut off by a giggle. He spun around to see his protege darting away on their broom, a delighted laugh in their wake.
"Oh, you think broom safety is funny?" he called, following after.
As they reached the top of the quidditch goal posts, he put on a burst of speed, catching up with his run away trainee. He put his hand on their broom handle, leaning over for a quick cuddle and peck on the head.
"You're a right natural," he said, "Must take after me. Wave hello to mum!" Together, James and his son turned to wave down to where Lily sat in the back garden watching their little flying lesson. She waved back cheerfully and called, "Lunch is in five, boys!" before resuming her task of setting out their little picnic.
James felt his heart swell with happiness. He'd landed the girl of his dreams, who turned out to be even more than he could have ever imagined, and together they had welcomed the newest edition to their little family. Harry James Potter, who was turning out to have quite the knack for quidditch, just like his father.
"Let's do one more lap before lunch," he said to his son, "if we don't come down, Mummy will come up here– and none of us want that."
Harry just smiled in response, his little toddler hands gripping the broom handle tighter.
"Ready?" James called, "On your mark, get set, go!" And together he and his son sped for the other side of the field, both grinning wildly.
"Hello? Potters?" Lily heard the familiar voice call.
"Back here, Sirius!" she called back, setting out the plates for lunch.
Sirius black strolled out from the house to the back garden, wearing his newest muggle find: aviator sunglasses, and a leather jacket– despite the summer heat. He was carrying the cake, which he almost dropped as he caught sight of father and son zipping through the air on matching brooms.
"What the hell is my godson doing up there?" he exclaimed, thrusting the cake at Lily before storming onto the pitch. "Potter!" he yelled, "You get that boy back down here on solid ground, or I swear to Merlin–"
"No swearing in front of Harry," Lily hissed.
"Honestly, Evans! You're okay with that idiot just taking Harry out to fly?"
"First of all, it's Potter. And has been for some time now," Lily corrected Sirius, who waved a hand in dismissal in her direction, "And that idiot is–"
"He's still an idiot," Sirius interrupted, looking darkly at where James and Harry hovered mid-air.
"Okay, so he's an idiot," she acquiesced, "But he's an idiot we both love. And you shouldn't have bought Harry the broom, if you didn't want James to teach him to fly."
"Yeah, but I'm the fun godfather. You're supposed to be the voice of reason, Evans."