James Potter lies underneath the beech tree in his backyard, the sun filtering through the leaves to cast gentle light on his face. His hand rests on the broomstick at his side, a Cleansweep Five that he had gotten for his eleventh birthday in March. James is breathing hard from the excitement of flying for hours, and it isn't even lunchtime yet. He loves to circle around their large yard, going higher each time, even though his parents have many times told him how they felt about him going so high. But he does it anyways.

His parents are reasonably wealthy so they often treat James, their only child, with gifts almost to the point of being spoiled. His father Charlus Potter had married Dorea Black at a late age so they didn't have James until they were around forty. Both of his parents are purebloods and Dorea believes in blood purity, though she isn't awful like her family about it. She always taught James to appreciate being a pureblood, that he had a heritage that reached centuries back, a status that he had a right to be proud of. He never really understood it, but he did like to feel special so he didn't think about it too much. After all, he trusts and loves his parents and therefore everything they say is right.

Since Dorea was a Black, they are wealthy and they have a nice, comfortably sized house in a mostly muggle village. James plays with the other wizard children in his neighborhood and occasionally goes to fancy parties with his parents at purebloods' houses, connections on Dorea's side of the family. Dorea doesn't involve herself in the blood purity issue, but she is still proud of her family. Though on the other hand, Charlus doesn't believe in blood purity so he chooses to stay away from his wife's family when he can.

James always gets what he wants when he wants it. But he has never fulfilled his biggest wish, until now; going to Hogwarts. James pulls out his Hogwarts letter from his jeans pocket, which he has kept in there ever since he had received it two days ago. He unfolds it and fingers the now soft parchment from the creases that lace its surface. His father wanted to frame it and hang it on the wall, but James wants to keep it with him.

All his life he got everything handed to him on a silver platter. He never had to work for anything, his parents knew what he wanted before he himself even knew what that was. But Hogwarts will be different. Without his parents there, he will have work for everything, it will be up him to do well in school. It will be the first time he will survive without his parents there to help him if he fell.

I'm so special to my parents, but how good am I really? Am I even important? A prickle of fear starts in James' heart. Do they even want me at Hogwarts, or did they just accept me because parents wanted them to? Is my whole life really just made up of what my parents give me? Can I even be a person without my parents there to help me?

James loves his parents and all they do for him, but sometimes it feels like they are his training wheels, that he can't support himself without them. Now with Hogwarts, he'll have to earn everything for himself, but maybe that won't be so bad.

I want to prove myself. So far the only way I have shown that I am actually good at something without help is flying. When I'm in the air, I feel so free, like I'm on top of the world. When I'm up there, no one can judge me. I earned my flying skills and no one can take that away from me. Flying is my thing, no one could have told me how to do it. It's one thing for my parents to give me a broomstick, but flying, this is something my parents can't give.

James sits up and pulls his broom into his lap, running his hand down the smooth shaft. It hums slightly at his touch. This is the only thing that truly understands me. He feels stupid to feel so connected to a piece of wood, but it has shown him so much joy that nothing else can give him. But it doesn't always give him happiness. Sometimes it can make things go horribly wrong.

James stands at his open window in the middle of the night, looking at the dark, cloudy sky that brings a warm breeze into his room. He shivers slightly, though there isn't a hint of cold in the April air. James grips his broomstick, tapping his fingers on the handle nervously. He wants to fly again.

All James has done in the week since his birthday is go on his broom. Today he hadn't gotten a chance to because him and his parents had been out shopping and not gotten home until late. But James is itching to go flying again. The only time he feels right, truly himself, is up in the air.

I could just go out for a few minutes, then I'll go to bed and be done with it. I should wait until tomorrow. But I can't sleep until I've flown! James knows he is being childish, he shouldn't get so upset that he didn't do something so small as fly, but he has this feeling, that he can't rest until he's satisfied. All James can think about is the joy of flying, a feeling he wishes he could have all the time. I have to feel it once more. I'll be so fast, that no one will even know I'm gone. And my parents won't get mad at me, they never do.

With that, James comes to a decision and pulls his bathrobe on around him over his pajamas. He climbs out the window onto the roof that extends over the front porch. James can't help but grin excitedly, his body quivering with nervous energy. He swings his leg over his broom and crouches, gripping the broom tightly in his hands. James takes one, long breath before kicking off as lightly as he can.

James rises gently into the air, circling to gain height. He feels joy bubbling up in his chest from the sinking feeling he gets in his stomach when he gets higher. James usually only goes as high as the beech tree in his backyard, a height of almost fifty feet, but he decides to go a bit higher than that.

James' street stretches out below him and his head feels light from the thought of being this high. Lights from houses twinkle in the dark, creating an awing picture. The wind sweeps his bathrobe out behind him, flapping gently around him. The wind tickles his hands and face, ruffling his already messy black hair. James feels a smile tease his face again and this time he laughs. There is no better feeling than being up here. Maybe I'll just sit up here. But he wants to do something a bit more exciting. He has never left his backyard when he is on his broom because there are muggles in this town. But it's dark, no one would see me.

So James leans over his broom, urging it to go forward. He glides over all the houses on his block, turning around and going on the other side of the street when he reaches the end. The exhilaration of going forward in one line without worrying about hitting a fence fills James and he goes faster, looping around and round. He dodges streetlamps and skips over roofs like a dolphin jumping waves. He feels more confident and lands on a roof of a house, running along the length of it before kicking off when he runs out of roof. He dashes back and forth, waking sleeping birds and chasing them away.

It's not until the sky turns from black to grey that James realizes how long he's been out. Only now he processes that his eyes are itchy from lack of sleep and his limbs are aching. Panic rushes into James' chest when he realizes all this and turns back to home instantly, urging his broom as fast as it can go as if he can make up for all the time he had been flying leisurely. He feels cold despite the warm air with the horror of what he has done, that he has stayed out all night. James has never done anything like this before and he hadn't meant to any time soon.

James lands on the roof outside his window a bit heavier than he means to in his hurry to get back and climbs into his room with guilt in his heart. He closes his window as quietly as he can and turns around only to face both of his parents. James gives a yelp of surprise at finding them there. They both have their arms crossed and look angrier than he has ever seen them.

"James Potter," Charlus says solemnly, "just what do you think you're doing?" James had been expecting them to yell, but having his father speak in such a calm and serious voice seems much worse. He can hear the anger layered underneath the calm tone though. James hangs his head, unable to come up with a response. Yes, what was I thinking?

"What possessed you do something like us?" Dorea demands more forcefully. "Answer me!" James cringes. He hates when he sees the Black part of her come out.

"I…I just felt like it, I guess," James replies to the floor, already knowing that that was a bad thing to say.

"Felt like it?" Charlus repeats, his voice now rising. "Are you daft? You think that you can just sneak out in the middle of the night just because you wanted to? We allow you to do what you want, but you think our tolerance extends to something like this? I thought we raised you better than this!" James' heart stutters guiltily at his words. They've always loved me and I repay them with this.

"You're grounded for the rest of week! Literally: I'm taking your broom away!" Dorea shouts and snatches his broom away. James opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it at the scowls on his parents' faces. They leave the room, closing his door behind them. James is left in the dark of his room with the dawn sunlight too feeble to light the tears on his face.

James cringes at the memory, even though his parents have not mentioned it since then, two months later. They have not forgotten it, but they seem to have forgiven him after he has been on his best behavior for the rest of the summer.

But surprisingly, James doesn't feel too guilty about it anymore. In fact, he feels an excitement that hasn't left him since then. He has never done anything daring before and it feels sort of good. I never realized how…perfect I've acted, following the rules. That's the first time I've ever done something rebellious. Rebellious. I never thought I'd use that word to describe myself. The word sends a tingle down his spine, an exhilaration he never thought he'd crave.

James looks down at his letter again. What does this mean if I'm feeling this way? I'll be away from my family for almost a year. What kind of person with I become? But now James doesn't feel scared of that thought. Anything can happen now that I'm going to Hogwarts!