"Hold your hand over your broom and say ‘up' in an authoritative tone," Madam Hooch instructed.

Harry grinned at Ron and put out his hand. "Up!"

The broom sprang into his hand, of course. He'd never had any problem. James and Sirius had taught him to ride a broom almost before he could walk.

Neville, it seemed, was not having similar success. Lily and James had been friends with Neville's parents before Harry was born. Harry had always assumed that they were dead, since Neville lived with him grandmother, but the other boy had mentioned going to visit them once. Harry had wanted to ask questions, but Neville's face told him that he wasn't at all interested in the subject.

During those play dates, Neville had never been very coordinated. James once joked that he ought to put the magical padding on the back garden that he'd used when Harry was a toddler.

It appeared that Neville had not gained coordination with time. The broom came into his hand well enough, but when Madam Hooch had them all rise into the air, Neville's broom took off, flying at top speed in an erratic pattern.

"Everyone, land!" Madam Hooch ordered, jumping onto her own broom and chasing after the out-of-control Gryffindor. The rest of the class watched as Neville's broom bucked, throwing the boy off and into the air. Madam Hooch raised her wand to try and slow his descent, but he still hit the ground with a sickening crack.

Madam Hooch landed, kneeling beside the boy. "A broken wrist," she pronounced, after inspecting Neville. "To the hospital wing with you, my boy." She helped Neville to his feet, and turned to the others. "No one is to lift one toe off the ground until I return."

As the witch strode off the yard, one arm around Neville, Harry looked around. Draco and his friends were picking up their feet, making mock-horrified faces and whispering, "Oh, no, I'm lifting my toes off the ground!"

Harry looked at Hermione, who, unlike every other lesson they'd had, looked worse for the wear after this one. Her broom hadn't hopped into her hand very easily, and Neville's accident seemed to have shaken her confidence even more.

"Hey, look," Malfoy's voice caught Harry's attention again. "Longbottom left his toy!" The blond held up a ball with pale smoke floating around inside. "Why don't we put it somewhere safe for him?"

Malfoy, much to the admiration of his adoring fan-base, jumped onto his broom and took off, carrying the ball in one hand.

"Come on, Malfoy, give it back," Harry shouted, but the Slytherin was already circling high above them.

"Just leave it alone," Ron muttered, but Harry grabbed his broom and mounted.

"Harry!" Hermione screeched, her hands on her hips. "Madam Hooch said-

It was useless for her to finish her sentence, because Harry was already in the air, rocketing toward Malfoy.

"Give it back," he demanded, as the blond haired boy hovered, just out of reach.

"You want it, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Go get it."

Draco hurled the ball toward the castle. Harry dove after it, snatching it out of the air before landing lightly on the ground. He looked at Hermione, who looked horrified, and grinned. "It's not that hard, really."

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry spun around, surprised to hear his full name so far away from his mother. Professors Snape and McGonagall were striding across the lawn, the former having been the one bellowing.

"What do you think you're doing?" Snape grabbed him by the scruff of his robes. "Where is Madam Hooch?"

"She took Neville to the hospital wing, sir," Hermione answered nervously, obviously hoping that if she provided information, she'd be spared the expulsion she knew was coming.

"Land, Mr. Malfoy!" Snape ordered the blonde boy, unnecessarily because Draco had started his descent immediately upon seeing his Head of House. Severus pointed to the castle. "Your dormitory. Immediately. The rest of you," he looked at the other students, "class is dismissed."

Harry tried to follow, but Snape didn't release his grasp. Harry felt stupid, struggling against a ghost. How could he walk through his man's body, but he could be held by the ghost's oddly iron grip?

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall's eyes were shining. "You've got your father's Quidditch skills!"

"And his brains," Severus snapped, marching the younger wizard toward the castle.

"Now, Severus, he's my responsibility," McGonagall said, hurrying after them. "I'll handle it from here."

Snape glared at her. "I think it's clear how you would like to ‘handle' this situation, Minerva.  I'll deal with Potter."

"I'm calling his parents," Minerva said, almost gleefully, bustling off toward her office.

"An excellent idea," Severus glared down at Harry as they went down to the Potions office. "I am not amused by your antics, Mr. Potter, and I am certainly not impressed with your ability to grab a ball out of the air. I am, however, greatly annoyed by your disregard for basic rules provided for your safety."

"I know how to fly, sir," Harry said nervously, as Severus ushered him into the office.

"That's hardly the point," Severus glared, pointing at one of the chairs in front of his desk. "I'm certain your parents don't allow you to fly unsupervised. Am I incorrect?"

"No, sir." Harry shifted nervously.

"I can guarantee that Professor McGonagall is speaking with your parents right now, hoping to bend the First Year Quidditch rule for you. What do you imagine will be your parents' reaction?"

Harry looked at his feet. He knew perfectly well what his mother would say. Rules exist for your safety, Harry James, he heard her voice in his head. "My mum is going to be upset..."

"I don't doubt it." Severus regarded the boy for a moment. "I promised your mother long ago to keep you safe," he said quietly. "So far, you are not making my job easy."

Harry looked up at him suddenly. "You don't like me, sir."

Severus frowned, but was interrupted from any response by a knock on his office door. Minerva entered, Lily and James Potter in tow.

"Mum! Dad!" Harry looked up, horrified. He knew his mother would be upset with him, but he never thought she'd come to school.

"Professor McGonagall says you've been in some trouble," James said, his expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, looking at his shoes. "I just wanted to get back Neville's ball."

"On a field full of children who might not have the experience on a broom that you do," Lily said, crossing her arms. "Do you know what could have happened if they had followed your lead?"

Harry dug the toe of his sneaker into the floor. "People could have gotten hurt," he mumbled.

"Precisely," Severus looked at Minerva. "I'm glad someone can see the danger of this little stunt."

"I'm sure Harry understands what he did was wrong," Minerva said hurriedly. "But I always say we should focus on the positive side of every event. It seems that your son is a gifted Seeker."

"Which hardly matters, because he's a First Year," Severus glowered.

"A parent can give permission," Minerva shot back. "I'm sure that Harry would gladly submit to any punishment Professor Snape saw fit, but we don't need to throw this whole experience away, do we?"

Lily and James looked at each other. "We'll sign the consent," Lily said finally. "But there needs to be some consequences for disobeying Madam Hooch, young man."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry tried to push down his excitement, but he was sure that he didn't sound as chastened as his mother would like.

"Alright, then," Minerva wasn't even trying to contain her excitement. "I'll leave Mr. Potter's punishment up to Professor Snape."

"Gladly," Severus said, crossing his arms. "I'm banning him from the Quidditch team."

"Severus!" Minerva glared at him. "Be reasonable!"

"There is a reason we keep First Years off the team," Snape said firmly. "It's a foolish, dangerous sport. I can't believe you'd consider letting him play." He directed the last comment at Lily.

"Harry, go back to your dorm," James said quietly. If there was going to be an argument, he didn't want his son looking on as a witness.

"Dad-

"I'll walk you," James said, opening the portrait. He shared a look with Lily before taking his son's shoulder and propelled him out into the corridor.

"Do you think I'll get to play?" Harry asked, when they'd reached the stairs.

James frowned. "I'm not sure that you should."

"Dad!" Harry looked at James like he'd lost his mind. "You and Mum said-

"We said we'd sign the consent," James said. "But I'll be honest with you, Harry... it is dangerous. Do you know how many bones I broke?"

"You let me fly all the time at home," Harry tried to keep the whine out of his voice, knowing that it would get him nowhere.

"With the safety wards I've cast on the ground and everything else," James said, putting his arm around the younger wizard.

"You don't have to be scared, Dad," Harry rolled his eyes.

"I've been scared since the day you were born, Snitch," James pulled Harry tight to his side. "And you know that I'm all for mischief... but next time, remember that the point of fun is that it can't kill you or others. Got it?"

Harry nodded, feeling a little guilty. James had always made the rules about pranking very clear. Pranks were fun. They were not supposed to hurt people. Before you did something, you had to think of the unintended consequences.

"Hurting someone else, even if you don't mean to, is a bad prank," James told him over and over. "Just because you and your friends think something is funny doesn't mean it will amuse everyone. People can get hurt."

Harry was never sure exactly what his father was talking about. All the pranks the three Marauders told him about seemed hilarious. But James always looked a little disconnected during those conversations, like he was remembering something that Harry didn't know.

Anyway, the whole train of thought was useless, Harry thought to himself. What had happened that day wasn't a prank. He'd been trying to get Neville's ball. Although, if he was honest with himself, a lot of it was because Draco had always bugged him. Even with his limited contact with the blond boy, Harry knew that he didn't like Malfoy. Today hadn't done anything to change that fact.

*H*P*

"He's my son, Severus," Lily frowned. "He made a mistake today. But I think being on the team might help him make friends."

"I'm sure the golden boy will have plenty of friends," Severus rolled his eyes.

"Actually, Severus," Minerva put in, "the other students seem... a bit intimidated by his legacy."

"That's his life," Severus said, unsympathetically. "He might as well get used to it."

"He's a child, Severus," Lily said softly. "We're trying to give him a childhood." She looked at her estranged friend for a long moment, her green eyes locked on his dark ones, the transparency of his body washing out the black of his irises.

There was a long, awkward silence until finally Severus shook his head and looked away. "Fine. But don't come crying to me when he breaks every bone his body."