the broom, James. Merlin's beard, son, it's your first week and you've not even had your first broom lesson, have you? Back when I started here, we wouldn't have even been allowed to get on a practice broom without lessons, much less try out for the House teams.'
'But even if you had,' James interrupted, 'you'd have been excellent at it.'
'That's not the point son. You are so worried about living up to the myth of who I was supposed to be that you aren't giving yourself a chance to be even better. You're defeating yourself before you even start. Don't you see that? No one can compete with a legend. Even I wish I was half the wizard the stories make me out to be. Every day, I look in the mirror and tell myself not to try so hard to be the Famous Harry Potter, but just to relax and let myself be your dad, and your mum's husband, and the best Auror I can be, which sometimes doesn't seem to be all that great, to tell you the truth. You have to stop thinking of yourself as the son of Harry Potter…' Harry paused, seeing that James had really heard him, perhaps for the first time. He smiled a little again. 'And give me the chance to think of myself simply as James Potter's dad instead. Because of all the things I've done in my life, raising you, Albus, and Lily, are the three things I am proudest of. Got it?'
James smiled again, crookedly. He didn't know it, but it was the same crooked smile he so often saw on his dad's face. 'All right, Dad. I'll try that. But it's hard.'
Harry nodded understandingly and sat back. After a moment, he said, 'Am I always that predictable?'
James broke into a knowing grin. 'Sure, Dad. You and Mum both. 'You aren't going outside wearing that, are you?'' Harry laughed out loud at James' impression of Ginny. James went on. ''It's cold in here, put on a sweater! Don't say that word in front of your grandmum! Stop playing with the garden gnomes or you'll get green thumbs!''
Harry was still laughing and wiping his eyes as they said goodbye, promising to meet that evening at the Quidditch match.
James' first class, ironically, was Basic Broom. The teacher was a giant slab of a man named Cabriel Ridcully. He wore a fawn-colored sport cloak over his Quidditch official's tunic, which displayed his enormous forearms and calves.
'Good morning, first years!' he boomed, and James guessed that Cabe Ridcully was one of the world's great morning people. 'Welcome to Basic Broom. Most of you know me already, having seen me at the Quidditch matches and tournaments and whatnot. We'll be spending this year getting familiar with the fundamentals of flight. I believe in a very hands-on approach, so we'll all be jumping right into essential broom-handling and control. Everyone approach your brooms, please.'
James had been dreading getting back onto a broom again, but as the class progressed, he found that, with proper guidance, he was able to manage getting his broom to levitate and support him, and even control its altitude and speed in very small formations. He realized that there were subtle variations in how the broom responded, based on speed and inclination. If the broom was merely hovering, leaning forward on the broomstick pressed it forwards, while pulling up drove it backwards. Once the broom was moving, however, those same controls began to also manage height. The faster the broom was moving, the more James' posture controlled altitude instead of speed. Finding the fine difference between a speed-lean and an altitude-lean was dependent entirely on the velocity of the broomstick at any given time. James sensed that the slightest panic would cause him to lose even the tiny degree of control he had already learned, and he began to understand why he'd been so dreadful during the Quidditch tryouts.
As pleased as James was at his own tentative control of the broomstick, he still felt a shudder of jealousy when he saw Zane managing his broom through elaborate, effortless swoops and banks.
'Let's avoid showboating, Mr. Walker,' Ridcully called reproachfully, and James couldn't help feeling a petty surge of gratification. 'Save it for the match tonight, why don't you?'
Ralph's entire body was tensed as he struggled to stay atop his broom. He'd gotten it to float about four feet off the ground and seemed to be stuck there. 'How do I get it to swoop like that?' he asked, watching Zane.
James shook his head. 'I'd just worry about staying right-side up if I was you, Ralph.'
The rest of the morning's classes were far less interesting, with Basic Spellwork and Ancient Runes. At lunch, James explained to Ralph and Zane the happenings of the night before. He told them about Franklyn's Daylight Savings Device, and the dinner conversation involving Madame Delacroix's voodoo powers. Finally, he explained the conversation he had heard between his dad and Professor Franklyn, and how it fit in with the Austramaddux story about Merlin's predicted return.
'So,' Zane said, narrowing his eyes and staring thoughtfully at the wall behind James' head, 'I am to understand that your dad has a cloak… that makes anyone who wears it invisible.'
James moaned, exasperated. 'Yes! That's hardly the point, though, is it?'
'Speak for yourself. I mean, forget x-ray specs. Just think what a guy could do with an Invisibility Cloak. Is it steam-resistant, do you think?'
James rolled his eyes. 'I don't think that the wizard who spent his lifetime creating the world's most perfect invisible garment did it to sneak into the girls' showers.'
'But you don't know that, do you?' Zane said, undeterred.
Ralph chewed slowly, thinking. 'So Franklyn told your dad that there were wizards in the States who were pushing for the same thing as the Progressive Element? Muggle and wizard equality and all that?'
James nodded. 'Yeah, but it's all just a sham, isn't it? I mean, since when have Slytherins really wanted anything nice for the Muggle world? All the old pureblood Slytherin houses have always been for going public, but just so they can take over the Muggle world and rule it. They think Muggles are an inferior species, not equals.'
Ralph looked oddly troubled. 'Well, maybe. I don't know. Most of the people out in the courtyard the other day weren't even Slytherins, though. Did you notice that?'
James hadn't, actually. 'Doesn't really matter. It was the Slytherins that got the whole thing started, with the Progressive Element slogans and badges and stuff. You said so yourself, Ralph. Tabitha Corsica was handing the badges out to all the Slytherins. She's behind the whole thing.'
'I don't think she's in on it like you think she is,' Ralph said, 'with this whole bringing-Merlin- back-from- the-dead plot and all that. She just thinks we should be fair to everybody, Muggle and wizard alike. She's not trying to start a war or anything stupid. I mean, really, it doesn't seem fair that we shouldn't be able to work in the Muggle world, does it? Or compete in Muggle games and sports? Just because we have magic on our side, doesn't make us outcasts.'
'You sound just like one of them,' James said angrily.
'Well?' Ralph said suddenly, his face going red. 'I am one of them, if you haven't noticed. And I don't
