James could not have been happier to get to flying lessons with the Hufflepuffs. Getting on a broom was just what he needed after the exhausting morning he'd had.
He ended up between Jerry and Philip. Philip seemed to have lost his initial enthusiasm for flying. James thought he noticed his hands shaking ever so slightly.
"Ready to fly, Philip?" James asked teasingly.
"You bet," Philip could not have sounded any less convincing than he did at that moment.
"And you're not nervous?" Jerry pressed.
"Nope."
Jerry and James shared a smile. Philip was too busy staring at his broom to notice, his eyes widening in fear.
"Alright first years! Listen up please!" a short thin woman with spiky hair stood in front of the line of brooms. "My name is Madame Hooch and I will be your flying instructor. Listen carefully to everything I say and follow my instructions exactly. We don't want any accidents, do we? Is everybody's brooms on their right side? Excellent. Now, when I say stick your right hand over the broom and say 'up' as firmly as you can. Understand? Begin."
"Up!" the words had barely left James' mouth when the broom flew into his hand, as if it belonged there naturally. He turned to Jerry, who was struggling to get his broom up and grinned.
"Need any help there?" he asked Jerry.
"Shut up!" Jerry snapped. As he said it, his broom flew up and smacked him square over the head.
"Hey, you did it!" James laughed gleefully.
Jerry glared, rubbing his head and trying to suppress his smile.
"Alright down there?" Madame Hooch called out. "And excellent job, Potter!" her eyes glittered with what seemed like excitement. "I see talent runs in the family."
James, once again feeling everyone looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and scornful disdain, stood tall, refusing to bow to the pressure.
"I hit myself over the head with my broom!" Jerry blurted out, taking the attention off of James who smiled at him gratefully.
While everyone was preoccupied with Jerry, James turned to his other side and saw Philip struggling to get his broom to come to him.
"Up! U-up! Please?"
"You've got to really sound like you mean it," James advised. "It's not going to come to you if it thinks you don't want it to."
Philip nodded and screwed up his face in concentration, "Up!"
His broom hovered about an inch off the ground, then drifted lazily into his hand. "I did it!" Philip gasped with glee, holding his broom aloft for all to see.
Jerry turned and grinned, "Well would you look at that. Maybe you're not a lost cause after all."
"Who says I'm a lost cause?" Philip was cut off by Madam Hooch's whistle.
"Please mount your brooms, gripping the front firmly with both hands. When I blow my whistle, kick off gently and hover about an inch above the ground."
Madame Hooch blew her whistle and everyone mounted their brooms and pushed, though some did so more gingerly than others.
James hovered an inch off of the ground, already bored. He knew perfectly well how to fly, and he was good at it too. This beginner stuff was a waste of time.
He leaned over and whispered to Jerry, "How high do you reckon I could go before I get caught?"
Jerry scanned the area carefully, "Depends on how preoccupied Madame Hooch becomes with that one," he nodded his head towards Philip, whose broom was now bucking and shaking wildly.
"I like my chances," James said.
Jerry raised his hand, "Madame Hooch, we're having trouble down here."
Madame Hooch looked up from where she was correcting two girls' grips and rushed over to where Philip was desperately clinging on to his broom, his face green. "Mr. Hawthorne, how exactly have you managed to get into this much trouble a mere inch off the ground?"
James carefully kicked off and began to slowly drift higher and higher. A light breeze touched his face, and he breathed in the September air deeply. Urging his broom even higher, he found himself level with the tops of the trees and several classroom windows. Peeking in one he saw a rather dismal looking ghost and room full of half-asleep fourth years.
"Mr. Potter! Just what do you think you are doing?" Madam Hooch's voice rang furiously across the lawn, and James nearly jumped off of his broom.
"I just started going up and I couldn't stop it," he feigned a dismayed look and glanced around helplessly. "What do I do?"
"Get down here this instant!"
James made a swooping descent, hopping off his broom gracefully, and landing squarely in front of a fuming Madame Hooch. She had Philip's broom in one hand and was breathing very heavily.
"I find it hard to believe that somebody with your, shall we say, illustrious Quidditch background doesn't know how to work a broom," she said.
"It's these older models, I just can't get a hang on how to use them," James lied through his teeth, hoping he was convincing enough to get out of losing house points.
Madame Hooch was not convinced, "Well then perhaps you're not ready for flying at all. Give me your broom, you'll be sitting the rest of this lesson out."
"But-"
"No buts, over on the bench please. And stay after class as well."
James trudged off dejectedly, all too aware of the snickers that followed him all the way to the bench.
The rest of the flying lesson went rather poorly. While Philip did manage to stay on his broom, it certainly did everything it could to prevent that. Lucas' broom up and left him when he had his back turned.
Emily Alder disintegrated into tears of frustration when her broom would not rise. Her tears only worsened when a fellow Hufflepuff by the name of Ernie Macmillan Jr. laughed at her sorry state.
At one point, Fred and Roxanne got into an argument about which broom belonged to who. It ended in a dramatic scuffle, but Madame Hooch was too preoccupied with another Gryffindor girl named Creole Clearmont to notice.
Only Alice seemed to be handling her broom well. She shot James an exasperated look, as if to say, "Can you believe this is really happening?"
James rolled his eyes in response and looked over to where Creole Clearmont was being pinned to the ground by her broom. He looked back at Alice, his lips twitching into a smile. She stuck her tongue out and grinned.
"Alright," Madame Hooch looked like she was mere seconds away from pulling her spiky hair out in frustration. "I think that's enough for today. Leave your brooms on the ground and go to your next class. Mr. Potter, a word."
Jerry gave James a sympathetic smile before dropping his broom and hurrying off with Alice.
Dragging his feet, James walked over to Madame Hooch, preparing for the worse, "You wanted to speak to me, Professor."
"Yes, Potter. I've been asked to inform you that an exemption has been made in your favor. Professor Finnigan has argued that you should be allowed to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and both Professor McGonagall and I are inclined to agree with him."
"I don't understand," James said. "First years aren't supposed to play on their house Quidditch teams."
"But you aren't just any first year," Madame Hooch explained, the faint twinkle of excitement returning to her eye. "You've got, shall we say, a history with the sport which almost guarantees that you could be an asset to your team."
"Are you talking about my mom? Because she says I should wait until next year to try out and focus on my studies this year."
Madame Hooch shook her head, "No. It's your father. He himself was allowed on the team when he was a first year. He actually thinks you could be just as good of a seeker as he was. And he was spectacular."
James felt an excited lump form in his throat and tried to swallow it down, "This was my dad's idea?"
"Well, no. It was Professor Finnigan's. He'd really like to win the Quidditch Cup and thinks that you could be the key to victory. But he did write to your father to get his permission."
"And what did my dad say?"
"That he was more than happy to let you join the team and that he recommends you try out for seeker," Madame Hooch beamed like she'd just delivered James pure happiness on a platter.
James actively fought to keep from bouncing on the tips of his toes, "So an exception's being made so I can try out? Or am I already on the team?"
Madame Hooch's mouth twitched, "You will have to try out, of course. But I fully expect things to go well for you. That is, of course, if you can get the hang of these older models."
She gestured to the brooms behind her, and James blushed furiously.
"I think I can handle it."
Madame Hooch nodded briskly, "Good. I think it's clear that you're not like everyone else, Mr. Potter. Like I said, you've got a history."
"I know."
"Now, get to your next class, you don't want to be late."
And with that she left to organize the brooms, leaving James shaking with anticipation.
