Here We Go Again

Chapter 7: Harry

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

But what you did was just as dark

Saturday, August 31st 1989

The last month alone had proved to Harry that everything he'd learned about the world, for his entire eleven years, had been a complete lie. First of all, he'd found that what goes up mustn't always come down, for he'd seen flying broomsticks, impossibly levelled buildings and countless floating knick knacks throughout all of Diagon Alley. Secondly, he'd also learned that two bodies could, in fact, occupy the same space at the same time — and they often did. As Harry made his way through that strange, infinite tent, he almost felt like he could hear his worldview shattering inside his head.

"It's a basic expanding spell", James was telling him. He had offered Harry a tour of the place, after the two of them were left alone while the others took Sirius to the inn. "People usually cast it in their purses or pockets. Though my old man used to tell me stories of a wizard he met who actually lived inside his suitcase."

Harry halted. "Inside a suitcase?"

"Had a whole zoo in there and all, apparently."

Harry's eyes widened as he tried to even imagine how that could be. He had already read through most of his school books, many of which mentioned unicorns, phoenixes, dragons, basilisks and even centaurs. He pictured his mum's old trunk, which had barely fit everything he'd wanted to pack for Hogwarts, and wondered how he'd ever fit even one of those creatures in it.

James continued the tour, showing Harry all four of the bedrooms, and for each of them he had a handful of funny stories to tell. It seemed a bit excessive, Harry thought, to have all that space with no one to share it with — he had noticed most of James' stories took place either in his childhood or his school years.

"Right, then", James said, as soon as they were back in the living room. "I suppose we're done digesting breakfast now, so we should be good to go."

They at last rounded the quidditch supplies and took them outside. James cast a number of silent, invisible spells around the area, declaring it safe, and they took off to the skies. Harry soared through the clouds, laughing as he felt the unbelievable speed stretch the skin on his cheeks and prickle the inside of his tummy. Oh, quidditch! How could he ever grow tired of it? This was only his second time flying, and yet he already knew, deep in his bones, it would always be his favourite thing to do. He zig zagged repeatedly, testing the sharpness of every turn. The broomstick seemed to merge into an extension of him, responding to his every command in a fraction of a second, obeying all of his impulsive desires. Harry had never known this much control.

James caught up with him and they began practising. The day before, they'd been more focused on passing quaffles from one another, which was a lot trickier than it looked — Harry lost his balance and almost fell twice after spinning a bit too much when throwing the ball. This time, however, they were finally going to up the stakes, and Harry felt his heart racing as he identified the shiny winged orb in James' hand.

"The golden snitch", he breathed.

"Exactly", James said. "Though this is the one we use for practice — it's a slightly bigger and slower version. But it's how we all start. It's the same one I trained with when I was a kid, actually."

Harry nodded, straightening up with newfound importance. James was, after all, a professional quidditch player, so following his steps meant someday he could become one, too. It was already the ultimate dream.