The first years were clustered on the pitch, looking about excitedly. Wind came down off the mountains beyond the castle and whistled through the stands, whipping the large house banners so that they fluttered gently in the air far overhead. The grounds were warm and dry and the grass green and bright.

There couldn't be better conditions for flying, James thought, as he lowered his broomstick to the ground. He'd gotten to the pitch early to do some warm up himself before training the firsties. He'd already laid out the school's old broomsticks on the field, made some obvious repairs (they were terrible old broomsticks - old even when he and Sirius had been first years, he recalled - and Dumbledore ought to be ashamed of the state the brooms were in). When he'd finished preparing the pitch, he still had a bit of time before the firsties were due to arrive, so he'd started flying laps and was in the middle of a series of loop-de-loops that were flooding him with a deep nostalgia (he'd not done them since leaving Hogwarts), when the youngsters had arrived.

"Wow-wow-wow no wonder you teach flying!" shouted the tiny Malfoy boy - Aofie. Odd, seeing a boy with the Malfoy pale hair and complexion wearing Gryffindor robes and tie, James thought.

"That was really cool," said Noah Bell, wide-eyed and grinning, his eyes as blue as his Ravenclaw Robes. Another odd thing. To see what amounted to miniature Derek in Ravenclaw blue. "I've never seen flying that grand before!" Noah added and James wondered if he remembered Derek - must not, James thought, or else Noah never would've said James's loops were the best flying he'd ever seen... Derek Bell had been a bloody broom whisperer, and James knew he owed all his own talents to Derek's skill. It was sacreligious to speak as though Derek was anything but the best flyer that had ever lived - at least in James's opinion, that is. Derek's loop-de-loops put any that James could fly to utter shame.

"Are you going to show us how to do THAT?" asked Logan Ollivander, his hand clutching his twin sister's hand directly beside him, their robes unmatched.

"Well, let's get you lot airborne and then we'll talk about tricks like that, alright?" James suggested.

"Alright!" Logan cried and he looked at Aofie Malfoy with excitement. "We're going to learn tricks!" he said, as though Aofie might not have heard James's words for himself.

James laughed at the excitement as it contrasted against the nervous expressions being passed between the firsties that clearly hadn't been on broomsticks before. "Okay calm down you lot," James declared. "We'll learn tricks eventually - but only after everyone is comfortable being on the broomsticks to begin with, and that'll take a few classes! The best way to get to the lessons you want to have with the tricks and stuff is to be really helpful to your classmates who mightn't be as used to broom handling as you are."

Aofie glanced around himself, realizing not everyone there was celebrating the idea of tricks, and settled down a bit, as did Logan and Noah.

"HEYYYYY ICKLE FIRSTIES!!!" came a shout across the pitch, "ANYONE FALLEN OFF THEIR BROOMS YET?"

James looked up and saw Wally, Ollie and Dexter high up in the stands. It was Wally who was hanging over the boards, shouting down at the cluster of kids on the grass below. Ollie and Dexter were sitting back, talking and eating what looked like popcorn.

"Hey, anybody ever told you to mind your manners?"

"I mind 'em they just don't listen," Wally cackled.

James rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry firsties - somebody heckled us during our first flying lesson, too!" yelled Ollie.

"Yeah and now Ollie's the star quidditch player of the whole school!" Dexter added.

Ollie flushed.

Wally grinned at Oliver, then turned back to the pitch, "HEAR THAT? A bit of hecklin' will do you lot good!"

James looked 'round at the students. Mostly they seemed alright. "Alright, everybody find a broom."

There was a scramble for the brooms, the students all eager, but they were quick, every one of them found themselves a spot along the line of the broomsticks. James looked around among the kids that stood before him, split into two long rows.

Far overhead, Wally was still yelling.

James smirked and turned around, "Oi, DWO. Get down here."

"What?" Wally stopped mid-heckle.

Oliver flushed. "Now you've done it," he hissed.

"Well if you're going to be here watching, the lot of you might as well come down here and make yourselves useful."

Dexter looked at the other two, then grinned and jumped up, followed by Oliver and Wally, racing down the steps from the box where they'd set themselves up. Wally ended up pulling ahead of the other two - he ran quite fast when he wanted to - and the three of them skid to a stop before James, panting.

"Reporting for duty, sir," Dexter said officially and saluted James as though he were in the military or something and Wally snickered as Oliver smirked between Dexter and James.

James put the three lads to work helping him out. It was a very large class after all, and the help was certainly very much appreciated as the boys took care to look over the younger fliers. Especially Oliver, James noticed, who was taking extra care to help the students position their fingers properly - something James remembered having once done for Oliver himself, long ago. It made James smile to see how Oliver replicated those first flying lessons of his own, and James made a mental note to commend Oliver on his good work next time they spoke privately.

Overall, the firsties weren't horrible with flying - though they weren't perfect. Even the boys who had talked a big line about being well seasoned fliers needed a bit of work on it, but James took it patiently and went over all their questions and worries one by one. When Sueli Ramos got a splinter from the wood, he paused the lesson to draw it out with his wand and bandage her up proper. He saw Sutton Ollivander also working a splinter out of her twin's hand as well at one point and he frowned at the broomsticks for about the hundredth time since he'd opened the broom shed and found the same crummy sticks from his early years at Hogwarts inside.

"Good job, the lot of you," James called as the first years were dispersing at the end of the alotted class time. "Really, you all did marvelously. We'll see you lot again Thursday alright? Excellent job, really, Siobahn... Hamish... Layla... Great job. See you Aofie." He watched them collect their things and break off into their already quickly forming groups and they rushed off across the grass toward the castle. "And you three --" he said, turning to Oliver, Wally, and Dexter, who were putting the broomsticks in a pile now, "You three were great. Thank you lot for helping out."

"It was a lark," Wally said with a shrug and a grin.

"Yeah, thanks for letting us help," Dexter added.

Oliver smiled and nodded, too.

"I really appreciated it, rather," James said.

"Well, love to stay and chat more," Dexter said, "But we've got potions to get to."

"Oh don't be late, then, get on... I'll finish with the broomsticks."

The D.W.O. waved and ran off the pitch, leaving James alone.

Or so he thought.

James bent down to pick up the first of the broomsticks. The manky old things were practically falling apart and he turned the stock over in his palm, inspecting it. The spot on the wood that had given Sueli Ramos the splinter was evident and he shook his head.

"Excuse me... Professor Potter?"

James turned around at the sound of a familiar voice and saw Macy Struthers coming across the pitch with a little girl following behind.

"Macy," James laughed, a smile splitting his face, "Hullo. You haven't got to call me Professor you know."

Macy said, "Well you are a Professor."

"Not technically," he murmured, flushing. He looked at the little girl, "Hi, what's your name?"

"Her name is Sarah," Macy said. As she spoke, she moved her hands before her and the little girl watched Macy. "Sarah, this is Professor Potter - er James." Macy brought her hands up close to her temples, then lowered them and used her left to make a shape which she shook out in front of her chest. "Oh I always shake the P out, I ought to hold it steady," she muttered to herself as she continued on, holding out her hand and carefully twisted her fingers in varying positions - five of them, to be exact.

Sarah turned to James and repeated the first motions - the hands to the temples and the shaped hand against the chest, then smiled and waved.

"She's just said hullo Professor Potter," Macy repeated the motion slowly for him, this time holding the second sign over her chest as Sarah had done, "That's a P. P for Potter." Macy paused. "Sarah's my little sister," Macy explained further, "She's Deaf. She's a first year."

These motions - the carefully twisted positions of the fingers and the sweeping of the arms through the air - James realized suddenly these were signs and Macy was speaking sign language to Sarah, translating as she spoke. He'd seen sign language before, of course, but not a lot.

As the thought sank in, James felt like he was hyper aware of his own hearing - the sound of the wind coming up over the lake and around the curve of the castle was like a roar and he looked at Sarah, who smiled up at him, and he wondered what the world was like to her - was it scary, not being able to hear? But the little girl before him looked contented, happy, and his heart swelled up a bit in his chest.

"I wanted her to meet you," Macy said, signing as she spoke.

"Well it's right jolly to meet you, Sarah," he said, smiling, and thinking how much a like the sisters looked. James paused, then said, "Hang on, she's a first year?"

"Yes," Macy said. He watched her fingers as she signed the conversation for Sarah's benefit, including signing the things that he, James, said. He was amazed that she was able to keep up.

"Why didn't I see her at the sorting?" James's eyebrows came together with concern.

Macy paused, her fingers slowing. She glanced at Sarah with concern, then looked up at James. "Well, see... because Sarah is Deaf, she had to be sorted Gryffindor so she could be with me, so I could translate everything for her."

James's face dawned with understanding, "Oh, I see."

"The Sorting Hat said that Sarah would have been Gryffindor anyway," Macy explained. "Sarah's very, very brave, see. Professor McGonagall is making special arrangements for me so I can be with Sarah and help her through her classes and still make it to my own."

James looked surprised, "You're going to be really busy."

"Yes, but it's alright, I'll be ok." Macy smiled, then said, "I do wish Sarah could take your class though. We were watching from the stands and you did such a good job."

James's eyebrows came together, "Why can't she?"

"She can't hear your instructions - and imagine trying at watching signed instructions while flying, or  worse trying to sign the instructions while trying to fly. I certainly can't do it. I have to have both hands on the broomstick to sign."

James frowned. He looked at the broomstick in his hand, then at Sarah, and he felt very sad that Sarah wouldn't get to experience what had easily been his most favorite part of going to Hogwarts - aside, of course, from his adventures with the Marauders. He felt a lump arise in his throat as he considered all of the joy that flying had brought him over the years, how many times he'd flown to relieve stress and just to center himself. He thought of how Oliver Kent had agreed about the sensation being one that brought peace to him, too, and James felt his protective instincts kick in a bit.

There had to be a way to help Sarah fly.

"I'll figure it out," James said outloud.

"Figure what out?" Macy asked.

"Flying," James said. "I'll figure out how to help Sarah learn how to fly."

Macy looked at James, her hands dropping away from signing, a butterfly trembling in her belly. She didn't want to sign what James was saying and get Sarah's hopes up if it wasn't possible and honestly, Macy didn't see how it was possible. She stared at him from behind her glasses, her eyes wide, and she said, "James, I --"

"I'll figure it out," he said with determination.

He flicked his wand and the old broomsticks gathered together and he saw Sarah's eyes widen with surprise and intrigue as they collected and flew into the old shed with a thump.

He'd also be making sure to get those manky old sticks replaced, he thought. No kid should have to fly on such rotten things. His eyes travelled up to the Headmaster's office, high overhead, protruding from the tall tower of the castle, making a mental note to go and see Dumbledore later that day about the matter.

James looked at Macy and Sarah. Macy was signing to Sarah rapidly and Sarah was smiling, looking at James with amusement and admiration in her eyes.

"What's that your saying?" James asked.

Macy laughed, "I'm just telling Sarah about some of the pranks you and the Marauders did when you were in school." She grinned. "She thinks the story about the popcorn is brilliant."

James smirked, raised his wand and a burst of popcorn flew up from the tip of it like a buttered firework. Sarah clapped with glee. "it's one of my favorite, too," he said.