~Chapter Three~

Ron performed the appropriate spell on the tiny broom, and it slowly stretched to a life- size model, perfectly carved, each twig hand selected for ultimate flying capabilities. His young niece's brown eyes grew round as she realized what her uncle had really given her.
"Uncle, a real broomstick? Wow, I've never had a real broomstick!," Jamie cried happily, hugging Ron once more. Harry picked up his daughter and swung her around.
"While Mummy and Hermione clean up, how about I give you a flying lesson?," he asked, and Jamie squealed with delight. Ron winked at his best friend and stepped back to watch. Harry gripped the handle of the broomstick and pulled one leg over, straddling it, like a rather skinny horse.
"See what I did, Jamie? Good, now you do the same thing; climb on in front of me," Harry instructed, and guided her gently as she, too, hoisted herself onto the broom. He held onto her tightly with one hand, and the broom handle with the other.
"Ready, Jamie?"
"Oh, yes, Daddy!"
Harry kicked off from the ground a bit, and pushed upward gently, until the broom lifted them effortlessly into the air. Jamie laughed and gasped in wonder, and Harry was reminded of the first time he'd ever lifted off the ground on a broom. He had been raised in a Muggle house for nearly eleven years; until then, brooms were for cleaning, not flying. But from the moment his feet left the ground, and the wind brushed at his hair gently, he knew brooms weren't the same. They would never be.

A/N- sorry this chapter is so short, but I wanted to update. Next comes the landing, and more memories from Harry.