James had never believed he would meet a boy he despised more than Sirius Black, but that was before he met Severus Snape. Still, first-year Gryffindors as good as never came across their Slytherin fellow students, since they were not doing any lessons together. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room, which made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday - and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.
'Typical,' said James loftily as they were standing in front of the notice board, trying to ignore Black's presence in the commons as thoroughly as possible while reading the latest news. 'Just what I always wanted. To see a bunch of incompetent Slytherins on bucking broomsticks. As if we couldn't take our classes separately. For what reason are they teaming us up with that worthless lot?'
'Careful, Potter,' came a dark voice from the back of the room. 'Or I might decide to knock you off your broom on Thursday - if you don't fall off by yourself, that is. I bet you won't stick to your broom for one minute. Ever done any flying at all?'
James whirled around. 'What do you think, Black?' he snarled. 'Of course I have. Almost hit a helicopter last winter. And the week before, I had a race with one of the Beaters of our local Quidditch team - and won. What do you say to that?'
'Pft - piece of cake,' said Black, casually waving James's argument away. 'You know that annual broom race from Kopparberg to Arjeplog? The one going through that dragon reservation? I was put down for it, but they refuse to take underage contestants, so there you go. I'll have to wait for another few years.'
'You are lying,' said James coldly. 'England hasn't been competing for the last seven years. I've seen the tables.'
'That is because I couldn't go,' snarled Black, now getting up from his seat and approaching the notice board. 'You can ask my cousins on Thursday, if you like. Though I doubt you will stay in the air long enough to do so.'
'No thanks,' growled James, gathering his belongings and searching for his textbooks. 'I'd rather not talk to that Slytherin scum.'
'What's so bad about Slytherins, though?' enquired the squeaky voice of Peter Pettigrew who had appeared on the doorstep to the dormitories. 'Professor McGonagall said all this inter-house enmity has absolutely no historical backup and that all the founders were friends.'
'Yeah, of course she'd say that,' said James in an offhand voice. 'She tries to soothe us. Make us believe we're all the same, really. But I know better. Father says most Slytherins go bad after they leave Hogwarts. And he would know. He deals with a lot of them.'
'I think you're being a bit haughty there,' remarked Black dryly. 'How could your father possibly know every single Slytherin who has graduated during the past two decades?'
'He is guarding Azkaban,' spat James. 'If you must know. Keeping half your family in there, most probably.'
'No Black has ever set foot into Azkaban!'
'Well, maybe it's about time then!'
'Don't start this again,' pleaded Remus, seizing the sleeve of James's robes. 'You'll only get into trouble.'
'Yeah,' said James. 'You're right. We'll see him hurt himself soon enough.'
And he stalked out of the Gryffindor common room, closely followed by Remus and Peter, to attend their Transfiguration lesson with the Ravenclaws.
At three-thirty that afternoon, James, Remus, Peter and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps into the grounds for their first flying lesson. The day was bright and friendly.
'Excellent flying weather,' their teacher, Madame Hooch, was glad to point out as she marched along the two lines of broomsticks lying on the grass as if only waiting to be mounted. 'There is no need for further hesitation. Follow me!'
She marched towards the first broom, outstretched her hand and said in a very clear and firm voice: 'Up!'
James caught the eye of one or two Slytherins who did not at all seem very happy about what they were facing. He snorted derisively. Incompetent bastards. He had always known it. With a superior grin on his face he marched forward, followed as usual, by Remus and Peter, and, for a change, by the great Sirius Black himself.
'Up,' he said imperiously to the broom first in the line, which sprang obediently into his hand. He mounted it and was, seconds later, way up in the air, feeling extremely good and extremely superior. This was his element.
'Come down this instant!' bellowed Madame Hooch. 'Did I say you are to mount your brooms yet? I do not think so!'
James obeyed reluctantly, feeling the slightest sensation of regret about having to abandon his flight so abruptly. 'Sorry, Madame. I couldn't restrain myself - somehow.'
The fair-haired witch with her unusual haircut gave him a reproachful look with her small, yellow eyes. 'I understand that, of course,' she said angrily. 'But officially none of you should know how to fly, and before I have told you how to grip the handle properly and how to keep balance, I am not allowed to have you zoom about the grounds, unfortunately.'
Meanwhile, some of the others had managed to convince the worn out school brooms to spring into their hands. Even Peter had managed to get hold of one of them, which left James with some surprise. Perhaps the small, round-faced boy was not as much an idiot as they had all thought? James wondered what other surprises he had in store for them.
Remus, on the other hand, had eventually been obliged to bent down and pick up his broom, just as most of the Slytherins, because it had simply refused to move when he had uncertainly asked it to do so. Black, of course, had been one of the first to mount his broom and was ready to kick off the ground as soon as Madame Hooch gave the word, which took another couple of minutes until everyone had learned how to grip their handles properly.
'Brace yourselves,' she said. 'Three - two - one -' the sound of her whistle filled the ground and James zoomed upwards, at almost the same speed as Black, who was clearly a very capable flyer. James was almost inclined to believe that he had done broom races before, but he was still angry at the bastard for trying to make him believe that he had almost taken part in an international race.
Come to think of it - James looked around to see whether he could find any of Black's cousins. Not really intending to ask them about Sirius's flying background, but thinking it would be nice to approach them and short something, just to make Black feel bad and stupid. After some minutes of searching James discovered that one of the Blacks (Viola, he recalled) was still standing firmly on the ground, while the other two were hovering very close by, obviously trying to shield her from the view of her classmates. Madame Hooch had come over and was telling her how to move in order to make the broom elevate, obviously feeling slightly exhausted at the girl's blatant stupidity.
And James saw something else. Severus Snape, both feet firmly on the ground, seemed to have some argument with his broom, as if trying to convince it to remain still while he was trying to mount it. Snape was gripping the handle with both hands, but every time he tried to place it between his legs the broom made a funny movement, like a stubborn horse, and jerked forward, so that Snape tripped and eventually had to run after the broom and catch it again. Madame Hooch needed some time to spot his problems, but when she did, James saw her hurry over to provide him with some assistance.
'No, no, no!' she said shrilly, obviously irritated about the fact that he had not even managed an attempt to raise into the air. 'You are not to argue with it. Just do what you are told.'
Snape managed, after a long and unpleasant struggle, to mount his broomstick while Madame Hooch was holding the handle in order to prevent it from throwing the lanky Slytherin off again.
'Very good,' she said approvingly, 'now concentrate on lifting up. Don't do more than a bit of hovering just yet. I see some of your classmates have been practising illegally, but if you have never mounted a broomstick before, it is safer to do it step by step. Ready?'
Snape shook his head. Madame Hooch let go of his broomstick, and before he could react, Snape was twenty feet up in the air.
'Come back!' yelled Madame Hooch. 'Don't be so daring! What if it throws you off?'
James could see Snape's face. They were only a few feet apart now, although this kept changing because Snape's broom was rocking back and forward, making him clutch the handle with all his might, trying not to show how afraid he was to be thrown off again. James was shaken by a fit of laughter and approached quickly.
'You've got to bend forward,' he shouted. 'That'll bring you back down!'
Snape did as he was told and James saw to his delight that the broom sped in the direction Snape had leaned towards - just as it was supposed to do. Snape squealed.
Within a fraction of a second Madame Hooch had mounted her own broom and zoomed into the air, following the general direction in which Snape had vanished. James grinned, leaned forward and followed her example. These school brooms were horribly slow, but if he took the shortcut through the gap between the North tower and the east bridge he might be able to reach Snape before Madame Hooch did. A challenging thought. And it worked.
When he had crossed half the school building, zooming towards the huge, glittering lake on the other side, he saw Snape rocketing towards it.
It all happened within seconds. Snape's broom did a funny sort of curve, throwing him off as easily as if he was a ripe pear, and he had only just hit the surface of the lake when James grabbed his collar, holding him only a few inches over the glittering water.
'Gerroff!' yelled Snape. 'Bastard! Stinking Gryffindor! Gerroff, I say. Leave me alone!'
He did look like a fruit of some sort, hanging upside down like that, held by nothing but his collar, James realized, laughed, and let go, watching the black-haired Slytherin splash head-first into the dazzling blue water. Seconds later Madame Hooch was with them, pulling the soaking Slytherin onto her broom, with a strange sort of panic on her face.
'What was that about, Potter?' she yelled. 'What happened?'
'Couldn't hold him,' James yelled back, well aware that he was not sounding sorry at all. Madame Hooch, however, seemed less interested in him than in Snape and zoomed off into the direction of the others again without further remarks on the situation. James laughed endlessly. It was only when he had soothed himself a few minutes later that he was capable of returning to the others to tell how he had reached the lake long before Madame Hooch had. What a splendid opening of a promising flying career on his part, he thought, well aware that this might sound just a bit haughty if spoken aloud. He would voice it to Black if he got the chance.