Flying lessons

Lily approached him. Much to the surprise of everyone eating at the Gryffindor table that morning. She came up nervously biting her bottom lip and twisting her fingers, a slight blush on her lovely face. "Um…Potter?"

James froze with his forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. It wasn't until Sirius elbowed him in the side that he put the fork down and responded. "Yes?"

Lily tightened her scarf around her neck, looking everywhere but at him. "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

Lily Evans wanted a favor from him? Wasn't she screaming at him in the common room just two days earlier for hexing a couple of Hufflepuffs? Never in the three years they'd known each other had Lily Evans approached him for anything. A giddy feeling rushed through him. "A favor?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Y-yes." She looked at the other Marauders expectantly. "Can I have a word with you in private?"

Sirius elbowed James in the side again, this time wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "She wants a 'private word' with you, mate."

James cringed at his friend's crude behavior, letting out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I got that."

James followed the petite redhead out of the Great Hall, wiping the nervous sweat off of his palms. He was positively shaking with anxiety. Part of him figured she was about to let him have it for something stupid he'd done and the other part thought maybe she'd noticed the way he turned bright red whenever she reprimanded him – the way his eyes were beginning to linger on her rounding hips. He shook his head – no, that wasn't it. She was definitely going to yell at him.

As soon as they cleared the Great Hall Lily rounded on him, her hair fanning out around he rhea dike a halo of shimmering fire. Her bright green eyes bore into his hazels ones for the first time all morning and he felt the breath rush out of him. He never stood a chance, even at thirteen years-old her knew that. Lily Evans was the girl he'd fall in love with…

And she hated him.

"Er, you're a good flyer, right?" she asked suddenly, rushing into it.

The question took him by surprise. "I am an amazing chaser."

She rolled her eyes, "Arrogant as always, I see."

He shrugged. "Hey, you asked."

"Well, I can't…" she mumbled, the rest of the sentence lost in the air.

James leaned closer, ears straining. "You can't what?"

"Oh please, Potter, don't make me repeat myself." Her cheeks were bright red. She leaned in close enough for him to smell her lavender shampoo and hissed "I can't fly."

He pulled back, looking down at her skeptically. "Wait, really?"

She shrugged, embarrassed. "I was rubbish first year and gave up."

He struggled to come up with something to say. "A lot of witches can't fly, I guess. Wizards too. I hear it's pretty natural." He had no idea if that was true or not.

"I want to learn, though. I figure it is a pretty useful talent to have. Sev and I were talking and he kept hinting that I should let him teach me how."

James's expression darkened at the mention of the slimy git. Of course he'd want to teach lily, to be able to feel her press against him on a broom stick, her tiny arms clasped around his withering waist. "Then why are you asking me?"

"Wow, rude." But she laughed and it was such a nice sound. "I thought about it and Sev is right I should learn, but he isn't very good. In fact, he's pretty bad at it. I don't want him to teach me. You, on the other hand, are apparently some kind of flying prodigy-"

"Oh Evans, watch out, you'll make me big headed."

"Your head couldn't get any bigger." She huffed, waving away his jokes. "Anyway, if I'm going to put myself on that flying deathtrap-"

"It's just a broom. Surely muggles have brooms."

"Yes, and they stay quite stationary and on the ground. As I was saying: if I'm going to learn I might as well learn from the best."

A grin spread across his face uncontrollably. Lily Evans thought he was the best at something.

She groaned at his response. "Oh Merlin, please don't run off bragging that I worship the ground you walk on. I swear I'll walk away right now."

"Oh, I won't say a word." He held out his hand for her to shake. "I promise."

She eyes him skeptically but then slid her tiny hand into his, setting his nerves on fire. They shook on it, and he looked into her eyes smirking, "It'll be our dirty little secret."

They weren't able to practice until the following Saturday. After dinner they both made excuses to their friends and snuck down to the Quidditch pitch, James's Nimbus 1901 was slung over his back as he lazily made his way towards Lily. She stood in the middle of the pitch, nervously twisting her finger. Her bright eyes flashed to him and then the broom in his hands.

"I changed my mind." She squeaked.

James quirked an eyebrow at her curiously. "No you didn't. You're just scared." Or so he hoped.

"What if I fall?"

"I would never let you fall."

"Yes you would, and you'd laugh about it."

"No." He stepped towards her. "I wouldn't. If you fall I'll catch you."

She didn't trust him, it was written all over her small round face.

He let out a frustrated sigh, "I promise I will not let you fall."

"Where do your friends think you are? Did you tell them?" She tugged at her scarf, avoiding his eyes.

"I told them I had detention with Slughorn and wouldn't be back until late. I told you I wouldn't tell."

"Oh, alright." She shoved her hands in her pockets. "What do we do?"

"Well, I'm going to take you for a spin around the pitch, make sure you can handle the height and speed and then let you do some laps."

"I am not getting on that thing with you."

"You want to go alone?"

"No."

He held out his broom and mounted it. "Then get on, Evans."

"You're not going to throw me off are you?" But she got on behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist. Her hands burning him through the fabric of his robes, making his pulse quicken.

"Yes, this is all a clever ruse to lure you to your death." He replied dryly. "Just trust me for once."

He kicked off the ground, rising a few feet into the air. Lily's grip tightened -his shirt bunch in her fists. She buried her head into his back, taking shallow breaths. He couldn't help the butterflies that took flight inside him. They fluttered around, twisting his stomach into knots. The only though he could form was Lily Evans has her arms around me.

"You ready?" He called over his shoulder and felt her nod against him. He took off slowly, rising a bit as he rounded the stands. "You have to actually look. Despite what I can do with my godly abilities, you cannot fly with your eyes closed."

He felt Lily raise her head hesitantly, looking around and down. She let out a gasp, clinging closer to him. "I don't like this."

"It gets better."

"I don't want to fall." Her breath tickled the back on his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He continued his rounds and Lily grew calmer with each one. After half an hour he landed, dismounting his broom.

"All right there, Evans?" He asked as she dismounted.

She nodded her head, her hair in mild tangles around it. "I think I'm ready to, err, fly myself."

"That's good because that's what happens next." He handed her his broom, their fingers brushing. She jerked back, a blush staining her face. She quickly composed herself, taking the thing from him.

"So, I just…?" she gestured to the broom.

"Yeah, just get on it and kind of will it up." He watched her straddle the broom and rise a foot or two, clinging to it as if her life depended on it. Her expression was almost comical – he had to bite back a laugh.

"It's like a motorcycle, right? It moves with me when I lean?" She tested it, leaning forward and letting out a gasp or surprise when it moved. She composed herself and continued on, making a slow lap and then a quicker one. She positively glowed with joy as she made her third lap.

James watched her, loving the way her hair trailed behind her like a tail on a comet blazing its way through the night. On her fifth round the wind picked up and knocked Lily crooked, making her lose her balance.

"Merlin no." James rushed to the end of the pitch as Lily rocked from the broom- luckily close to the ground. He caught her as she fell, the force of her knocking the wind out of him. She clung to the front of his robes, breathing heavily.

"I fell." She said, her arms going around his neck. She buried her face in his neck.

"Yeah, but I still kept my promise." He loved the feel of her in his arms, all tiny warm and whole. It felt right.

"What promise?" She eyes him curiously, her blush surfacing with full force.

"I caught you."