BROOMFLIGHT

By Mad Martha

madmartha@...

 

Part 2/2

 

Lily let out a shriek when they landed and boxed his ears before he could get out of her way.

"You idiot, Potter! Double-apparition is dangerous!"

"Ow! You're all in one piece, aren't you? Besides, how did you think we were going to get here? It was too far to fly and our household wards wouldn't have recognised you anyway if I hadn't brought you in!"

Lily opened her mouth to give him another lashing - and stopped, suddenly aware of her surroundings. "Oh! Oh my …."

It was a little Elizabethan-style manor house, with ivy on the walls, roses around the doors and flower beds under the windows crammed tight with riots of plants both magical and Muggle. They had landed in the middle of a gravel pathway that led right up to a set of ancient stone steps and an arched door that looked considerably older than the rest of the house.

It didn't look remotely Muggle.

"It's called The Rose House," James said in her ear. "My family have lived here for about four hundred years. Are you going to come inside?"

He stepped past her, shooting her a grin, and ran up the steps to the door. Lily followed more slowly, suddenly feeling terribly nervous. She had never visited a real wizard household before.

"Mind the step," James said casually as he opened the door. Such a mundane comment seemed bizarre in these surroundings, but when she hesitantly stepped inside Lily was reassured to see that it looked quite ordinary really, with rugs on the stone floor, small tables against the walls, and a wooden settle in a window embrasure. There was a broom rack behind the door, where James left the Cloudsweeper, and next to it was a perfectly ordinary umbrella stand full of umbrellas and walking sticks. There was a staircase across the hallway with wide, elaborately carved banister rails, and a passage down the side of it with a number of doorways.

As they crossed the hall, a woman emerged from one of the doors; a tall, slender witch of early middle-age, with dark hair piled high on her head and an upright, commanding bearing.

"James!" she said sharply.

He smiled ruefully. "Yes, Mother?"

"Your father and I have warned you before about taking risks with Apparition! You won't like having to be un-splinched, I assure you, especially if I have to do the un-splinching." Her eyes flicked over him coolly then moved to Lily, who felt horribly conspicuous in her Muggle clothing. "And it is usually considered polite to introduce a guest. Manners maketh man, my son."

Lily would have enjoyed hearing James put in his place by his mother if she hadn't been so nervous. This wasn't just any wizard household, she remembered. This was the home of the Potters, one of the foremost pureblood families.

"Of course," James said calmly. "Mother, this is Lily Evans, one of my yearmates from school. Lily, may I introduce my mother, Elvira Potter?"

"Delighted," Mrs. Potter said cordially, and shook Lily's hand. "James's friends are always welcome in our home." She cast an amused look at her son. "Even if some of them end by staying for two months. Where is Sirius? I haven't seen him for at least a day - he isn't in trouble again, is he?"

"Remus is helping him move some furniture into his flat." James grinned at his mother. "I got out of the way - I know when I'm not wanted!"

Judging by Mrs. Potter's amusement there was clearly more to that statement than was obvious, but she made no comment and turned back to Lily. "Is this prefect business?" she asked, with a smile. "I recall James saying at breakfast that you are the new Head Girl."

"Er - " Lily looked at James, unsure what to say.

"No, we've done all that," he answered for her. "I'm lending Lily a broom - she doesn't have one of her own and those school brooms are like riding a hat-stand."

"I see," his mother said, and Lily got the impression that she really did see. "Undoubtedly that will involve a lot a showing off in the meadow. Well, don't keep her standing around outside for too long! I'm having tea in the library at six and expect you both to join me."

She bestowed a smiling nod on Lily and swept regally away.

"'Showing off in the meadow'?" Lily murmured.

"My mother knows me really well," he said with a grin, but he looked a little embarrassed. "Come on." He led the way up the stairs.

The house was surprisingly homey for such an old and noble building. Lily appreciated the warm tapestries on the walls and simple furnishings. She was conscious of the portraits all watching her as they passed, though; she was used to that, from school, but not the way the people in them instantly started to gossip about her excitedly. It was amusing to see how many of the men in those portraits looked just like James, though, complete with sticking-up hair and spectacles.

James led her up two flights of stairs and into a small suite of rooms that were obviously his, judging by the general boy-clutter. He had a sitting room all of his own, which once again made Lily conscious of the differences between them. Her family had a little three-bedroomed semi in Muggle suburbia. James's family had … this.

"Have a seat," he invited casually, so she perched uneasily on the leather sofa in the middle of the room. There was a rich, dark blue, woollen robe thrown carelessly across the arm; when she glanced at it she could see a name-tab in the neck: S. Black. So Sirius had been here quite recently. Well, that shouldn't be a surprise. James Potter and Sirius Black were synonymous with each other, as close as brothers and certainly closer than Sirius was with his own brother. Not that Lily could blame him for that; Regulus Black was a hateful little snirp.

"What did your mother mean, about your friends staying for two months?" she asked.

"Eh? Oh, that was Sirius, last year. He ran away from home - didn't you hear about it?"

She'd heard, but she hadn't quite believed it. Sirius was always full of tall stories. "Why did he do that?"

"Because his family are appalling," James said dryly. He emerged from his bedroom carrying a couple of brooms. "You know his brother - well, they're all like that, only much worse. His mother makes your sister seem friendly and open-minded."

"I always got the impression that the Blacks are almost wizard royalty," Lily remarked.

"They'd like you to believe that," replied James scornfully. "They're all up to their eyebrows in the Dark Arts, though. Sirius is well off out of it." He held out one of the brooms. "This is a Cleansweep - pretty old, but a steady ride and you won't be trying to win races today. The other one's a Falcon, but I think it might be a bit big for you to handle until you know what you're doing. I'll ride that one for now."

Lily accepted the Cleansweep very doubtfully, and followed him back down the stairs and out of a side door. She felt sure she was making a terrible mistake going along with this - in fact, she couldn't think why she was agreeing to it at all - but swept along in Potter's wake, on his home ground, it was hard to say the words that would bring it to a halt.

"All right," James said, when they were standing in the middle of a meadow behind the house. "Back to basics." He took the broom from her hand and put it on the grass. "You're right-handed, aren't you? Okay. Stand to the left of the broom, stick your hand out over it and say up."

Lily did so, feeling rather foolish. The broom didn't move.

James gave her a patient look. "It really can fly, you know. And it can hear you commanding it, so you need to be a bit more … commanding. Imagine it's a dog you're telling to sit."

Lily looked at the broom. She told herself it was stupid to imagine that it was looking back at her.

"Up!"

It quivered but stayed on the ground.

"Maybe you need that prefect voice you used on Sally Klinkerhoff when you caught her hexing Martin Bellows," James suggested.

"UP!" Lily snapped at the broom forcefully. It shot into the air and smacked against her palm.

James grinned. "That's more like it! Now hold it at mounting height and get on."

As he spoke, he released the Falcon to hang in mid-air and mounted up himself. Lily scrambled onto the Cleansweep - there was no other word for her manoeuvre - and when she was finally settled she was gripping the handle rather tightly, looking convinced that it would kick her off at any moment.

"It won't tip you off," James said patiently. He was sitting back on his broom with easy balance, not even holding the handle. "Just relax, and don't grip it too tightly or when you take off it'll move with a jerk. Now - right foot on the ground and kick off gently."

They commenced a slow, low-level sweep of the meadow. James was a better teacher than Professor Prenderghast, Lily had to admit. He was far more patient, taking time to correct her seating and grip and explain why the mistakes she made happened. He knew quite a lot about the construction of the brooms as well, and Lily found that once she had an idea of what actually made it work, it was easier to accept that it could fly and fly safely.

James coaxed her into flying up to eaves level of the house before they finally had to land. Lily's legs were shaking just a little when she climbed off the broom, but she felt oddly elated; she had been teased unmercifully for being unable to fly and the belated achievement made up for all the earlier embarrassment she had suffered.

The fact that James had been one of the ones to tease her originally no longer seemed relevant.

"Next time we'll go a bit higher and further afield," he told her. "It's pretty safe to fly around here, the nearest village is miles away."

"All right."

It didn't occur to Lily to question that there would be a next time.

They entered the house via the same side door they'd left by and racked the brooms in the hallway, then James led the way to the library. Lily began to feel nervous again, especially when they entered the book-lined room to discover that his mother was not alone. With her was a wizard perhaps ten years her senior, with thick, greying black hair and half-moon spectacles, who shot a quizzical glance at James and said, "Elvira, my dear, is that my son? It's been so long since I last saw him that I hardly recognise him."

Mrs. Potter looked resigned. "Henry, I do wish you would try to behave, especially when we have guests."

"You saw me at breakfast," James pointed out as the other man got to his feet. "You know – that meal at the beginning of the day? Kippers, muffins, coffee?"

"And insolence?"

"Not at breakfast," James retorted, sounding shocked. "I haven't woken up enough for insolence at breakfast."

"Debatable!" was the dry reply.

James smirked, but turned to Lily. "Lily, may I present my father, Henry Potter? Father, this is Lily Evans, our new Head Girl."

"A pleasure," Mr. Potter said, taking her hand, and Lily found herself being surveyed over the top of his spectacles. There was a definite imp of mischief in his eyes, but all he said was, "Do come and have tea, Miss Evans, and don't mind the crups."

Since there was only one of the terrier-like creatures panting gently at Mrs. Potter's feet, Lily could only assume that this was a prod at James. She perched on the edge of the sofa next to the older woman and accepted the delicate china cup and saucer she offered. The tea was very hot and fragrant, with a hint of jasmine, reminding Lily of the Chelsea blend one of her aunts favoured for afternoon tea.

"Speaking of insolence," Henry Potter said, as he settled back in his chair and received his own cup of tea, "where is that curious individual you insist on calling Mr. Padfoot?"

"He's moving his stuff into his flat," James replied. "With Moony there he might even do some work, but I wouldn't bet on it."

"What bizarre nicknames you all have for each other," his mother remarked. "I can't imagine what poor Remus did to deserve being called Moony of all things. And as for young Peter, it's a wonder he ever speaks to any of you."

James only grinned. "Peter doesn't mind."

Judging by what she had seen of the four of them, Lily suspected that being called "Wormtail" was the least of Peter Pettigrew's worries.

"And how will being Head Boy affect the dream team?" Mr. Potter asked his son. "You'll be moving out of the dormitory this year."

For the first time, James's brow furrowed. "Actually, I thought I might stay put, if McGonagall will let me. It's not like there isn't plenty of room in our dorm, with only the four of us in there." He looked at Lily. "I bet you'll be glad to have a room of your own, though."

"You have no idea," Lily replied wryly. She looked at Mrs. Potter. "There are six of us in our dormitory. It gets so noisy, and Madeleine Arbuthnot is always falling out with Lucy Spiggins over something."

"There were only three of us in my dormitory," replied Mrs. Potter. "The room was correspondingly smaller, of course, so Mildred Twigg and I had to suffer Proserpina Nott's snoring without relief. Of course, by second year we were able to cast a Silencing Charm on her curtains, but she made such a fuss about it."

"Sirius snores like an express train," James said. "He won't admit it, of course, but he does. Usually when he's lying on his back. We've got into the habit of waiting for him to go to sleep, then nipping out and stuffing a spare pillow behind his back, so he can't turn over."

"Yes, whoever invented the concept of communal living clearly didn't think it through properly," his father said, amused. "On the other hand, I'm sure it's character building. Biscuit, Miss Evans?"

She accepted one from the plate he offered and eyed the crup warily as it moved to sit in front of her. Crups were known to be vicious towards Muggles, but apparently this one at least recognised the distinction between Muggle and Muggleborn.

"No begging, Cheron!" Mrs. Potter said sharply. The crup gave Lily a soulful look. "Greedy," his mistress observed. "He's acquired a taste for coconut macaroons," she said to Lily, "thanks to Sirius slipping them to him all last summer. Don't let that expression fool you! He'd like you to believe that we never feed him, but he's like a little barrel on legs ...."

"Still keeps the gnomes on the run, though," James remarked, "don't you, Cheron, old chap?"

"There are enough gnomes to keep a dozen Cherons on the run," his mother replied. She smiled at Lily. "Does your mother have problems with them in her garden?"

Lily felt herself redden slightly. "Well, no ... they're not a problem in Muggle gardens."

But neither of James's parents turned a hair.

"Of course not, my dear, what am I thinking? You probably don't get jarveys either, do you?"

"I have always thought there must be benefits to not having magic," Mr. Potter remarked.

Lily smiled. "I think my father would quite like it if the wildlife started talking back to him."

James grinned, but his mother shuddered. "Oh no! Horrible things ... the only good thing to be said for them is that they keep the gnomes down, but the House-elves will argue with them."

"That reminds me," James said suddenly. "Which essay did you pull for Care of Magical Creatures over the summer, Lily?"

She grimaced. "Unicorns. I'm hoping to get a book in Diagon Alley, because I'm hardly likely to find any of them running around where I live."

"You've got a better chance of that than I have of finding a Manticore."

"If I find one in my study, I'll let you know," his father offered helpfully, as he bit into a biscuit.

"I'd have to report you to the Ministry," his son retorted. "You don't have a licence to handle dangerous beasts."

"Remind me why you decided to take Care of Magical Creatures at NEWT level?"

James glowered. "Because two years ago I fancied working with dragons?"

"I'm surprised living in Sirius's pocket didn't cure you of that years ago," his mother remarked, and Lily tried not to choke on her own biscuit.

"No, but meeting his mother did!"

Mr. Potter caught Lily's eye. "Any rash ambitions you've been forced to give up lately?" he asked her.

She could think of one straight away, but it wasn't something she would dream of saying to James's parents, so she shook her head. "No, sir. I know what I want to do when I leave school."

"Which is?"

"I want to be a curse-breaker." It was an unusual career choice for a witch, but her Charms and Arithmancy marks put it well within her scope; and it sounded exciting, plus she would get to travel.

Mr. Potter's brows went up. "Ambitious," he applauded. "You can go far with Gringotts."

"I hope so," Lily said firmly.

He looked at his son and quirked a brow at him. James quirked one right back at him.

"You can go far with the Montrose Magpies," he pointed out.

"That's my boy," his father said, amused. "Don't aim low!"

"On the contrary!" And James mimed putting a Quaffle through a hoop.

The clock on the mantelpiece suddenly began to strike the half-hour and Lily jumped, her eyes going to James. "Oh! I'm supposed to be home for seven ...."

He uncoiled himself from his chair. "I'll take you."

Leave-taking was just as cordial as her arrival, leaving Lily with an excellent impression of the Potters. Not that she had held any strong views either way before that day, but a general impression of purebloods as a whole had not led her to expect such a welcoming atmosphere from any of the first families. She would have been even more surprised to discover that the feeling was mutual, James's parents being very well pleased with her.

Out in the hallway, James quickly unracked the two brooms and passed the Cleansweep to Lily. "No, take it!" he insisted, when she would have protested. "It's always better to keep a broom nearby if you're planning fly it regularly. It gets to know you and won't be difficult when you try to ride it after a long gap. And if you give it a polish now and again, even better."

"Is there anything I shouldn't do?" she asked, resigned.

"Don't keep it near the fireplace. Heat warps the handle and makes the tail-twigs brittle."

She made a mental note to put it beside her wardrobe, away from the radiator.

"You know, you really don't have to see me home," she told him, as he ushered her out of the door. "I'll be fine, now that I can Apparate."

"It's manners, remember? And that reminds me ...." James hesitated. "If you're coming back for more flying lessons – well, it would be easier if you could just Apparate here. But I'll need to introduce you to the wards."

"If it's a problem – " Lily began, but he shook his head.

"No, it isn't! But I'll have to nick your finger."

It was a simple process, involving dabbing her blood onto the great ring-handle of the door and James muttering a charm.

"You'll be able to Apparate in and out now," he explained, as he healed the tiny cut with his wand. "Just don't try Apparating directly into the house, nobody can do that. The front driveway's the best place."

"I wouldn't come without an invitation anyway," she assured him.

"I know you wouldn't." He smiled at her as he led the way down the steps. "Okay – ready?"

Lily rolled her eyes and Disapparated without waiting for him.

She arrived on the back patio, startling her father very much.

"Good Lord! Where did you come from?"

"I can Apparate!" she told him, pleased with this successful first journey.

It said something for Mr. Evans's strength of mind that he simply accepted this - as he accepted so many aspects of his younger daughter's life – with little more than a blink.

James popped into existence a moment later. "I thought you'd go to those trees down the road!" he said indignantly.

Lily frowned. "Why would I go there?"

He gave her a look that said, louder than words, Women!

Mr. Evans tactfully intervened, saying, "Are these the famous flying broomsticks I've heard so much about?"

"Yes, sir!" James was always happy to explain his favourite subject and he promptly let the Falcon hang in mid-air to demonstrate. "These are old models, of course, but this one's not bad for speed or reliability ...."

He probably would have rattled on quite happily for some time had Lily's father not gently mentioned that it was nearly time for dinner. James flushed slightly at his lapse. "I'd better be going then."

"Dinner in ten minutes, Lily," Mr. Evans told her, and with a friendly nod to James, he disappeared back into the house, leaving the two of them on the patio.

There was an awkward pause.

"So," James said finally. "Will you come for more lessons?"

The corner of Lily's mouth quirked. "Do you really think it's worth it?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "Okay, you won't be a Quidditch player by the end of the summer, but you can still be a decent flyer. It just takes practice. So will you come?"

"All right then."

"Tomorrow afternoon?" he persisted.

She smiled in spite of herself. "All right."

"Good."

There was another pause. James finally grabbed his courage with both hands.

"You never answered my question," he said.

Lily blinked. "What do you mean?"

He reddened but looked at her steadily. "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Lily felt herself blushing. She'd forgotten all about that. "Oh! Well …."

James managed a smile. "It's okay if you don't want to. I mean, I know I'm a Grade A pillock and an insufferable prat and all that, but ... it was different this afternoon, wasn't it ...." He let the question trail off. He hadn't really expected her to say yes anyway. Not really.

She looked anywhere but at him for a moment. Then she said shyly, "All right then. I mean, yes."

"Yes?" He could hardly believe his ears. "Yes, you'll go out with me?"

"Yes." She smiled at his expression.

His grin threatened to crack his face. "Brilliant!"

When he was gone, Lily wandered indoors rather dazedly. She hoped it wasn't too obvious that she had just been kissed.

Her father was in the living room.

"He's keen on his subject, isn't he?" he remarked.

She hoped he was talking about the brooms. "Wizards talk about brooms and Quidditch like Muggle men talk about cars and football."

It wasn't until they were all sitting down to dinner and Petunia was making sneering little remarks about James under breath, that Lily realised what she had said to her father.

Muggle men. Muggle.

I'm a witch, she realised, watching her sister bad-temperedly spooning coleslaw onto her plate. I really am a witch. Not just a person who accidentally happens to have magic, but a witch.

And it had taken James Potter of all people to finally show her that.

*

James Apparated into Sirius's new flat and nearly splinched himself on a chest of drawers that should never have been in the narrow entrance hall. But even a near-miss of this magnitude couldn't quell his exuberance.

"Padfoot!" he roared as he squeezed past the inconvenient furniture. "Padfoot!"

There were random bits of furniture scattered all over, but it didn't seem like there was anyone about. James tossed the Falcon onto the sofa in the little living room and looked around. The bedroom door was shut; he grinned and burst through it, jumping straight into the middle of the queen-sized four-poster.

"Oy!" he crowed happily.

"Bloody hell, Prongs!" Sirius exclaimed. "Will you just piss off already?"

"What are you doing in bed at this time of the day?" James pulled the quilt down and discovered not one but two bodies. Oh. That explained a lot. "Don't you two ever stop shagging?"

Amber eyes glared. "A chance to get started would be a fine thing, with you around," Remus complained. "Go away, James!"

"No - you've got to listen! She said yes!"

Sirius groaned and flopped back against the pillows. "What?"

"Lily - she said yes, she said she'll go out with me!"

"She must be mad," Remus muttered.

"But this is brilliant, don't you see?" James sat back and finally registered the twin glares he was receiving. "Oh, fine, be like that! Miserable gits. Just because you're all sorted, you have no sympathy for those of us who've lived in a hell of unreciprocated desire for an eternity - "

"Prongs!" Remus exploded savagely. "If getting off with Lily Evans is going to turn you into a bad poet, I'm going to stick my hand down your throat and rip your bloody vocal chords out myself!"

Taken aback, James looked at Sirius, who raised his brows and grinned.

"Full moon in two days," he reminded his friend. "He's touchy."

"Oh yeah - forgot about that. Sorry, Moony." James scrambled off the bed and grinned at his friends, unabashed. "Well - don't mind me. Carry on!"

"How generous of you!" Remus snapped and he pulled the quilt back over his head.

Sirius sat up, though, feeling vaguely that he'd been a bad friend. "Prongs! Come back and tell me about it tomorrow afternoon."

James popped his head back around the bedroom door. "It'll have to be tomorrow morning," he said cheerfully. "I'm seeing Lily in the afternoon."

Sirius stared at the door in mild pique after his friend had left. Then he looked down at the Remus-shaped lump under the covers.

"Have I just been jilted for Lily Evans?" he asked.

"No," was the grumpy response, "but you will be if you don't get back in here in the next five seconds."

- The End -