Harry had used to fly for fun with his children at the garden behind his house at least once a month except in winter up until the year Albus had started in Hogwarts. The ironic thing was, Albus had used to be rather proficient with a toy broomstick and had enjoyed flying a lot as a child that Harry could not have guessed that his son would ever be humiliated in his flying lesson but it had seemed like he had lost all confidence in flying after his very first class that he had not even bothered to learn the skill properly after failing the class in his first year. Harry had tried to get his family minus Lily to play a mini Quidditch game the summer after Albus' first year but the boy had stubbornly refused to leave the house, let alone mounting a broomstick that he had since completely stopped the family activity in order not to alienate the boy and had opted to let James and Lily fly with just Ginny (she had always been so much better in communicating with Albus than Harry that Al had not minded when it had been her flying with his siblings) instead.

Harry was feeling irrationally nervous as he joined his whole family at the garden with his Firebolt, which had miraculously been recovered after the war but had since never worked quite the same that his children were not allowed to use it. As expected, James had already taken off with his own Firebolt and was flying as fast as he was allowed to in their small garden by the time he came out. Lily had just taken off steadily as well while Ginny was patiently doing a last-minute safety check of the new broomstick with Al while his son was looking impatient to start flying for the first time since he had been a young child.

Harry walked over to Ginny and Albus and asked, "Is everything okay, Gin?"

"Yeah, we should be ready to go in a minute. The broomstick is actually in great conditions considering how long it had been kept unused in a dusty warehouse but I'm not going to take any risk when it's my boy using this."

Ginny might be very different from Molly in many ways but they were very similar in the sense that both of them were fiercely protective of their children. Harry found her even more attractive as usual looking at the way she concentrated on inspecting the broomstick that he could not help from leaning in to kiss her on her cheek, "You're the best, Gin."

"You're distracting me, dear." Despite the words she said, he noticed that her lips had curled up ever so slightly even though she was trying hard to appear professional and not to show her pleasure.

Unlike James, who would definitely be making gross kissing sound had he noticed the kiss, Albus simply rolled his eyes even though it was obvious that they were making him feel awkward.

Harry stepped closer to his son, meaning to help him relax by making some small talks but he had waited a few seconds too long and lost his chance as Ginny held the broomstick out to Al and said, "It's ready, Albus."

Al looked nervous as he slowly reached out to receive the broomstick. The boy had clearly polished it earlier as it was looking shinier and newer than when Harry had first seen it in the store. In fact, he would go as far to say the broomstick looked almost like his own Nimbus 2000 when he had first gotten it. Albus held the handle firmly in one hand while sliding his other hand down slowly as if it was a Hippogriff or a Thestral and he was trying to tame it or to communicate with it.

Ginny patted Albus on his shoulder reassuringly, "You're going to do great, dear." Albus looked at her for a second before nodding once in determination.

Harry could still remember his first flying lesson vividly, especially the satisfaction of having his broomstick gone straight up into his hand immediately before most of the class and to be able to catch Neville's Remembrall in midair without any previous training. However, he had almost never commanded his broomstick to go up to his hand since he had finished with his first year as it would be impractical to lay a broomstick on the ground first instead of mounting it directly that looking back, he had believed the exercise to be a bit pointless. Albus had never told him about his humiliation at his first flying lesson but Rose had accidentally mentioned how Al's broomstick had been the last to come up in their class, behind all the Muggle-borns who had not even laid a hand on a broomstick before, during that year's Christmas gathering. Although Rose had told it sympathetically instead of teasingly, it had been fortunate that Al had hidden away in a room at the Burrow that he had not heard it or he would have been so mad with his cousin. Remembering Albus' failure in his first class, Harry was caught off guard when Al gingerly placed the broomstick on the ground instead of mounting it directly.

Albus stood at the left side of the broom, closed his eyes then took a very deep breath. Harry could see his shoulders gone up before slowly coming back down. His eyes were still close in concentration when he stuck his right hand out and said "up" quietly but assuredly. The broomstick responded to his confidence and gone straight up the way Harry's broomstick had done in his first lesson. A faint smile formed on his face as the boy's hand closed up around the handle, he finally opened his eyes as he mounted the broom swiftly in a practiced movement.

He had obviously taken it slow up until this point but one moment, he finally lifted himself off the ground, the next moment he was flying up in the air effortlessly. At fourteen, Albus was still small for his age that he could still pass for a twelve-year-old, so watching the small boy with windblown jet-black hair flying on his new Nimbus 2000 almost felt like watching himself fly in his early school years.

He circled the garden a few times while following the flow of the wind to fly up and down instinctively before he tried doing some harder dives and sharp turns. Anyone who did not know about Albus' struggles in his previous years would have believed him to be a natural like Harry had been watching him fly now. Perhaps he was indeed a natural who had just happened to have been too affected by his nerves to realise his potentials.

Harry and Ginny were supposed to take off too as soon as Albus had done so but they had been so preoccupied with watching their son fly that they had completely forgotten about flying themselves.

"When are you two coming up? I want to get in some practice and I'd really appreciate some help." James annoyedly shouted while still circling the garden at high speed.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she yelled back, "Coming up, James. And do slow down a little or you're going to knock your siblings off their brooms by accident."

"We can take care of ourselves, mum!" Despite being the baby of the family, Lily did not like to be too protected by her parents.

Ginny turned towards Harry, meaning to urge him to go up together but had noticed something, "I see you got goosebumps too."

Harry looked at his arm and realised she was right. "H-He's wonderful…"

"Yes. He looks just like how you looked in your early years at the pitch, you looked so small compared to all the older players out there." She let out a satisfied sigh, "Ah… This brought back so many beautiful memories. How I wish I'd been there at your first match, to witness the historical moment when the youngest Quidditch player in a century joined his house team for his very first match… and how this Seeker caught the Snitch with his mouth, that was… interesting." She gave him a flirting look that Harry instinctively took a step towards her.

"Hey, you two, would you mind playing some Quidditch now instead of making out? Albus and Lily are good and all but I prefer to practice with some seasoned players here. Gryffindor is less than thirty points behind that we could very well win the cup this year."

Harry sighed wishing he had spent a bit more time in private with Ginny earlier. It was only ten in the morning and he had not gotten a chance to take a nap yet so he knew deep down that he should not be riding on a broom at all. Even so, he finally moved to mount his broomstick and take off from the ground while Ginny was doing the same in obvious impatience.

"I'm going to teach this boy some manners. He'll be defeated so bad he wouldn't want to call himself a Chaser, let alone a Captain!" Ginny had not looked as much like herself from her Quidditch days in years despite having retired for fifteen years.

James had already set up his practice goalposts in advance so Ginny challenged him to a match. As Lily was still young and just way too small and Albus had never played Quidditch before, Harry had to stand in to be a Keeper, which was no easy task for a sleep-deprived forty-year-old, while his other children had to content themselves to be spectators. Albus opened his mouth like he was about to protest when it had first been decided that their father would play Keeper but he seemed to decide against it reluctantly after a second.

Because there were two Chasers and only one Keeper, Ginny and James would try to score with the same set of hoops, only they had to circle the garden at least once within a speed limit after either of them had attempted to score before they could make another attempt and Harry was supposed to try hard to save every attempt. With a garden about one-tenth the size of a regular Quidditch pitch, it felt like they were taking turns to try for a goal at least once a minute, sometimes even twice or thrice, that he had stopped trying to catch the Quaffle after fifteen minutes, despite the practice goalposts being not as wide and as far apart as the standard goalposts. Of course, the surprisingly hot temperature and bright sunlight did not help at all. Harry had looked down occasionally to see that his daughter was watching the two Chasers excitedly while his other son was watching him with a frown the whole time.

Ginny was normally very observant but she had the tendency to forget about everything whenever Quidditch was concerned that she did not realise how tired he was feeling. Instead, it was Albus who suddenly flew up towards him after James had scored a goal and asked in concern, "You look so pale, dad! Are you okay?"

He was panting but he tried to keep his breaths as controlled as he could to avoid worrying the boy too much. "I-I'm f-fine, A-Albus… b-but I don't t-think I can f-finish the match. Gin, J-James, how about you two calling it a day and let me rest?"

Ginny quickly flew to him within seconds to place her hand on his forehead and to observe him closely, before letting out a relieved breath and said, "I think it's just the lack of sleep, dear. There's nothing wrong but you're right, you should get back to the ground and take some rest. I'm so sorry, dear… I should have realised." Albus had already taken the liberty to assist Harry back to the ground.

Ginny turned towards her opponent and said, "Sorry James, but it looks like we have to cut the match short."

To say he was disappointed would be an understatement. "Not to be insensitive, mum and dad, but it's Quidditch… you know you can't just stop a match like this, the game must go on. I can't lose without a fair fight." Ginny was leading 4-2 at the moment. "Albus, don't you want to try playing Quidditch? You can't say you're not interested in something without at least giving it a chance?"

Albus had just helped Harry settle down on a chair.

"Not really. I don't care about your match and I've to bring dad a cup of water and a wet towel now. Lily, come over here to make sure dad's okay." With that said, he quickly rushed back into the house, his sister obediently came over. Seeing that there was not much she could do to help, she started massaging Harry's shoulders and she was surprising good at this.

During the time it had taken Albus to get what he needed, Ginny had gotten back on the ground before casting a temperature-regulating spell for Harry. He had already felt noticeably better by the time the boy returned. Harry almost felt ready to go back up in the air within five minutes but of course he would not be allowed to do so. Noticing how upset James ,who had been fiercely throwing the Quaffle into the goals and picking it up only to do this over and over again this whole time, appeared, he had said, "I'm feeling much better, James… we can continue the game if you two make sure to go easy on me."

"You can't be serious, dad!" Albus gave him a very stern look.

"I agree with Albus, dear. I don't think you should go back up there… James will get over it."

"I'm really fine… How about I make sure to use a temperature-regulating spell up there?" He had not spent much time with James in ages that he really felt bad about how this family morning had been turning out.

"Forget it, dad…" James forcefully threw the Quaffle into one of the hoops again. "It's okay… I know you haven't gotten much sleep the past two days… I don't want to continue the match either if you're going back up like that." Despite what he was saying, it was obvious from his tone that he was feeling very bummed.

Albus bit his lip before saying hesitantly, "Now that dad's feeling much better and is resting on the ground… I s-suppose… I can give this a try…"

James was on his way to pick up the Quaffle again but he stopped short to turn towards his brother. "You can?"

"Yes… but I can't promise I can catch the ball at all… so don't get your hopes up… and don't be mad if I turn out to be rubbish up there…"

James sounded very sincere when he replied, "It's true that you're a bit small to play as a Keeper but I've seen you fly before, I know you'll be good, Albus."

Harry had not worn any gear when he had guarded the goals earlier nor had Ginny been bothered by it but now that it was Albus playing Keeper, Ginny would not even allow him to mount his broomstick before putting on the complete set of gears, which included an old helmet, gloves as well as shoulder and chest pads that she had summoned from the house.

No matter how little Harry wanted to admit this, he had certainly dreamed about Albus playing Quidditch on a Quidditch pitch before since the boy had been very young. Now although his garden was no pitch and he had never pictured Al playing as Keeper, it was still quite something to see Albus moving towards the goalposts, getting ready to play Quidditch in any form at all after having claimed that he had hated Quidditch for years.

To James' annoyance, Ginny was really taking her time to give Al a few basic tips regarding goal-guarding before practicing with him a few times. While she slowed it way down that no one could have any doubt regarding which of the three hoops she was aiming at, Albus truly did show potential when he skillfully steered the broomstick to catch the ball. Ginny gradually made her throws faster and and more powerful yet Al was still able to catch or block every single one of her dozen of throws. She gave him a wide and proud smile by the end and said, "You'll do great, dear."

Despite the practice hoops being smaller than the standard ones, seeing Albus guarding them still gave Harry the illusion that his youngest son was even smaller than he really was, but of course size was not the only thing that mattered when it came to guarding the hoops.

Having the match stopped abruptly earlier, James was particularly eager to catch up with his mother that he was noticeably more aggressive than earlier to the point that he was trying to score a goal within ten seconds after the match was resumed with the new Keeper, and Harry was not pleased to see how forceful he had thrown the ball.

It felt like everything was in slow motion as he saw the Quaffle flying towards the hoop. Albus was hothering in front of the top hoop earlier that he needed some reaction time to move towards the lower left hoop to block the ball. Although his hand seemed to have come in contact with the ball for the briefest moment there, he was too late to block the ball that James succeeded in scoring the goal. Luckily, Albus did not look to be in pain from the impact.

"James, your brother is new to this! Don't go all out immediately!" Ginny had immediately abandoned the match to rush towards Albus' side to see if he had been hurt. He looked dazed but otherwise okay.

"Sorry, bro. I swear I was just too excited to have the match resumed… By the way, we don't want you to get injured that if a throw looks too difficult for you, you're welcome to give up catching the ball." Normally, it was something both Harry and Ginny would never say to their team's Keeper but given the circumstances, both of them had to agree with the advice, Harry could only hope that James would not use this as a strategy to win by making all his attacks too forceful for Al to block.

Ginny was the next to attempt to score in the match and she had done it so half-heartedly that Albus was able to catch it effortlessly.

"Mum, don't you go that easy on Albus! I want to defeat you fair and square."

She shrugged her shoulders as she said, "Fine." before she turned to her other son and gave him a thumb-up, "Good job, dear."

The match resumed again and Harry was relieved to find that James was actually more tired than he had let on having flown for twenty minutes at highest speed at the beginning and having vented his frustration with the Quaffle earlier when the match had been halted that he could not really be that aggressive for long, while Ginny seemed to be gaining confidence in Albus' ability that she was not going particularly easy on Albus.

It was just supposed to be a mini match between the mother and son that it went on for only fifteen minutes more but considering how skilled the Chasers were, how inexperienced Albus was and how disadvantageous his body type was for goalkeeping, he did way better than anyone could have expected.

He had completely mastered the control of his new broomstick that he looked like he had been using the Nimbus 2000 forever instead of for his very first time. Albus had gotten used to keeping himself close to the centre of the hoops most of the time instead of in front of any specific hoop that it would be easier for him to react quickly to reach any of the hoop and to constantly make small movements like moving in small circles and going back and forth a little to avoid staying still in order to keep a sense of rhythm. He was also particularly creative in the way he blocked the ball that in addition to his hands, feet and the two ends of his broomstick, he had also done so with his forehead, shoulders and elbows, which made up for his disadvantage in size despite making Harry feel extremely nervous.

Once he had gotten a hang of the basic, Albus was able to pick this up very quickly. Harry had gotten the impression that James had low expectation in Albus' abilities despite his words of encouragement at the beginning but five minutes in, he was taking it really seriously when he started to attempt scoring by faking moves. He had to give the boy credits because he had been doing this for years and he was indeed a very convincing faker but Al seemed to have a keen sense of observation that he had not fallen for it once. He almost did once but he was able to turn around at the last millisecond to steer the broomstick in the right direction. Although James did score the goal, it was due more to Al's inexperience than his lack of ability.

Harry and Lily might not be participating in the match themselves but Harry had been kept at the edge of his seat and Lily was constantly yelling the whole time, "Great job, Al!" "I can do this better than you, James!"

Out of the twenty-one attempts on goals combined by the two Chasers, Albus had been able to block fifteen of them, and more remarkably, he had not followed James' advice and had tried to block every single one of them.

At the end, Ginny won the match 7-5 but at least James had not gotten down without a full fight. "You still have much to learn, son, but you're not too bad." Ginny said happily.

"I'll defeat you next time, mum..."

"We'll see." Ginny gave him a wink which would certainly earned Molly's disapproval if she had seen it.

It was obvious that everyone in the family was impressed by Albus' performance. Harry had immediately flown towards the boy to check if he had accidentally broken any bones in his brave attempts in guarding the goals. Ginny was noticeably less worried than him when she flew over after a brief hug with James and immediately wrapped an arm around Al's shoulder, "You're absolutely brilliant, son."

"Thanks, mum… I'm really fine, dad."

"Hey Albus, you're still not interested in joining the house team, right?" James tried to sound casual but Harry noticed a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"It's surprisingly more fun than I expected but I can't say I'm interested. The practice schedule really put me off plus I've my O.W.L.s next year." Harry believed Scorpius had rubbed off on Al as his son had never been the kind of student to care much about his grades, or it was Al's mere excuse to avoid playing Quidditch.

"Good, good… stay this way. The current Slytherin Keeper is all size and zero skill… This is you without any training, I can't imagine how much more dangerous you would become if you've been properly trained… I'd say you getting into the team would decrease our chance in winning the Cup."

Harry had first thought that this was James' roundabout way to compliment his brother but a look on his frown told him that the Quidditch Captain was being completely serious.

While Ginny and James had gone in to have an iced drink, Albus had opted to rest a bit sitting on the same chair Harry had been sitting on earlier while Lily was practicing with the Quaffle and the hoops right now. The boy had rarely exerted himself physically as much in his life that he was naturally rather tired after just under half an hour of Quidditch playing. Of course Harry had to take his boy's poor sleeping quality and earlier flying practice into consideration as well.

Harry had been holding Albus' new broomstick since his son had first touched down and since then, he had been debating whether to ask Al something.

"Hey, Albus."

"Yes?" The boy turned towards his father's direction but was avoiding his gaze and his shoulders were hunching a little, which might have to do with the fact that both Ginny and Harry had already told him about ten times that he had been absolutely brilliant up there. His wife had even gone as far to kiss her socially-awkward son on his cheek.

"W-Would you mind if I give this," Harry gave the Nimbus 2000 a wave, "a go? It's been so many years since I've flown on mine."

The boy relaxed and said, "Oh sure, go ahead. And honestly, I don't see why you have to ask for permission since you've paid for it."

"I may have bought it but it's your broom, Albus, of course I've to ask you before flying it."

"I guess you're right… But for the record, dad, I trust you with the broomstick so you can fly with it anytime you want." Harry was surprised to see how earnest his son looked.

"You may not trust me that much if you remember what happened to my Nimbus 2000." It was not like Harry was actually expecting himself to ruin the broomstick but wizards tend to be possessive with their broomsticks that he had never given this kind of permission to anyone, nor had any of his family and friends, that he thought he could influence Al into being more careful about giving full rein on his broomstick to anyone.

"It's a thunderstorm and you were surrounded by Dementors, the broomstick was hit by the Whomping Willow, it'd have been broken no matter who was riding the broom at the time. Besides, you're still using your Firebolt from all those years ago."

"You remember." Harry whispered more to himself than to Albus. His children had loved hearing their parents' Quidditch stories when they had been young but he had expected Al to have blocked out all those memories following his failures in his flying lessons.

The boy looked down and said. "Of course I do… I used to dream about playing Quidditch when I was much younger. It's nice to have heard your stories on the pitch so I could imagine being y..." Albus stopped abruptly and his expression clouded that Harry just wanted him to go back to looking relaxed like he had been moments ago.

"Anyway," He interrupted his boy's thinking with contrived eagerness, "thanks for giving your permission, Albus. You can rest a bit here while watching your old man fly."

Albus let out a weak laugh, "Is that really okay though, dad? I mean, you looked ready to faint up there during the game."

"I promise I truly am fine, Albus." He looked his son in the eye to show that he's telling the truth. The boy seemed to relax and gave him a thumb-up.

He placed Albus' broomstick between his legs, took a deep breath as he marvelled about how familiar the touch of the handle felt despite it being a different broomstick from the one he had had all those years ago. Although the specifications of two broomsticks of the same model were identical, there were usually enough subtle differences there for any good flier to tell the broomsticks apart. It might have been because the many years since he had last flown on his Nimbus 2000, but he could have sworn that Albus' broomstick felt identical to his own in every possible way that he could literally felt his goosebumps the moment he lifted himself off the ground.

He might be just circling his own small garden but for those ten minutes up there, he was eleven again, a skinny boy eagerly and excitedly flying his own broomstick for the very first time in an empty pitch before his very first Quidditch practice, before Professor Quirrell, before Tom Riddle, Dementors, the Prophecy and all those deaths and losses. It was a time when he had first tasted success and he had naively thought that a regular Hogwarts school life could have been possible for him in which all he had to worry about were his finals, Quidditch matches and O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. While the Firebolt was certainly the better broomstick objectively, flying this Nimbus 2000 warmed his heart in a way that the Firebolt would never be able to. He was reminded of how he had felt whenever he had returned to Hogwarts after a long summer holiday… he was coming home.

As Harry caught sight of Albus, who looked in awe as he watched his father flying on his broomstick, and Ginny, who came out of their house drinking her iced tea and gave him a wave, and passed by Lily in front of the hoops, he knew in his heart that even if he was given a chance to start everything over again as that fresh-faced eleven-year-old, he would have gone through with everything the exact same way as it had happened, to accept all the burdens and guilts he had had and still carried till this day, because he was the luckiest man who got to marry Ginny Weasley and to father the perfect children.

A/N: This is now the longest chapter I've written for this fic. I've considered saving the last bit with Harry's flying for the next chapter but didn't because it sounds like an ending and would feel out of place in the middle of a chapter.

Disclaimer: I've never been into sports so I'm out of my comfort zone writing about a match here but I tried.

Another chapter outline here: "H tried A broomstick, felt warm." We're all screwed because at this rate, it'll take me years if I'll be able to finish this at all. I honestly don't have any idea where this is all coming from.

I felt a bit bad for making Rose a gossiper but I need a way for Harry to know about Al's failure to appreciate his improvement and unfortunately, there's no way Al would tell anyone about this himself.

Please comment because all your feedback and support mean so much to me.