For Lily Evans, coming to Hogwarts had been a very strange experience. Here, there were no classes about fractions or sentence structure. Instead, she had found herself thrust into a world of wands and robes and creatures she had only read about in fairy tales.

The first days at school had been hard, adjusting to a new life was never easy, and with magic, it was more difficult. But even so, Lily found she belonged in the huge castle, and quickly settled into the place she felt was truly her home.

Then, about two weeks after the term had started, a notice appeared in Gryffindor Tower that had the first years twittering with excitement. It seemed there was something new for Lily to wrap her mind around; flying lessons had been scheduled with the Ravenclaws for the following Friday. Talk of the date filled the dormitories at once, each student chattering brightly about what the experience would be like.

Lily, however, did not share their enthusiasm in the slightest. The very idea of a broom instilled a terror deep within her that even Professor McGonagall’s wrath could not.

I hate heights, she thought fervently. I’m not going in the air, no matter what.

She’d always had that fear, ever since she was a little girl. When the Evans family had wanted to take a trip by plane, Lily would throw a fit from the time they stepped out of their house until they made it to the airport. The whole flight would be spent with Lily clinging tightly to a surly Petunia, spouting off her worries to her sister about how they would likely crash at any given moment.

Now, however, the idea of flying in a plane seemed perfectly harmless when compared with a broom. You may have gone higher on an airplane, but at least walls and seatbelts protected you. She doubted the school’s brooms could offer such measures.

Seeing her nerves, older students offered Lily tips and helpful suggestions, but they fell on deaf ears. She didn’t want to hear about how she should grip the broom – she didn’t want to hear anything about flying at all.

The days until the lesson trickled by slowly, and each one that passed made Lily more and more aware of how soon she would have to be in the air. When the date had finally arrived, and all classes had ended, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws made their way outside. On the trek to the broom shed, Lily stayed glued to the side of a fellow Gryffindor, Anna Stebbins, who shared Lily’s feelings about flying. The other girls from her dormitory offered their platitudes about it being okay, but nothing helped.

I don’t want to fly. I don’t want to fly, Lily repeated over and over again, her mantra.

Certainly, there were four Gryffindor boys in her year who were not helping matters in the slightest. All having ridden brooms before, they had no moral support to offer whatsoever. Lily felt that, perhaps, they were simply incapable of empathy.

“Don’t worry, Evans,� James Potter said easily, moving to stand next to her as they waited for the lesson to begin. “I’ve been flying since I was born – it’s easy.�

“Piece of cake,� Sirius Black cut in, continuing where James had left off. “Just whatever you do, don’t be nervous.�

“A broom can tell if you’re even the tiniest bit afraid,� Peter Pettigrew added brightly, “and once it figures out that you’re scared, it’ll throw you right off.�

The fourth boy, Remus Lupin, nodded solemnly and began to act out someone plummeting from a broom amidst laughter from his friends.

Lily paled slightly, the fear she thought could get no worse deepening. Anna scoffed and muttered a few scolding words to the boys before pulling Lily away. They hadn’t moved far, however, when they spotted Madam Moore, their flying instructor.

“Good afternoon, students, and welcome to your first flying lesson. So we can start quickly, please find a broom and stand beside it,� Madam Moore announced as they arrived, gesturing to the rows of antiquated Arrows in front of her.

Lily chose a broom in between Anna and a small Ravenclaw boy, whose face was extraordinarily devoid of all color. At least she and Anna weren’t the only ones who weren’t excited for the task at hand; this boy looked exactly how Lily felt.

“Once you’re situated,� Madam Moore called briskly, “hold your hand over the broomstick.�

Lily timidly held out her hand, trying not to notice it was shaking. A few brooms down, Remus was still pretending to fall off a broom to his death, and Sirius was pretending to cry over his friend’s limp body. Lily bit her lip nervously and turned away.

I don’t want to fly. I don’t want to fly.

“That’s it,� Madam Moore said approvingly to the group. “Now, say, “Up,� and mount your brooms. You may kick off, but only hover a few feet in the air – Mr. Potter,� she added sharply, eyeing James, who was currently ten feet above Lily’s head.

“I think I’m going to be sick,� the small boy next to her cried piteously.

“You’ll be fine, Mr. Turpin, show a bit of courage, now!� Madam Moore told him. “Let’s see you try, Miss Evans.�

Obliging, Lily swallowed and said, “Up!� At once, she was surprised to find she now was holding a broomstick. Tentatively, she swung her leg over the broom, and then, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach that seemed to be doing the conga, she kicked off and hovered a few feet in the air.

The flood of fear and nerves that had been following her for the past two weeks had all but vanished. Lily didn’t feel like she was going to be sick, and she certainly wasn’t afraid of falling – much, at least.

Looking around from her vantage point, Lily caught James’s eye. He smiled at her from his broom, having lowered it to a less dizzying height. She returned the smile, and to her delight, found that she was rather comfortable in the air.

Maybe, Lily mused, I’ll be better at this flying thing than I thought.