Ever since James started a family, he had never ridden a broomstick again.
Minerva was a Quidditch fan. James had once been Gryffindor's Quidditch captain and Seeker, though he had not joined a professional league after graduation.
This could be understood as him having "grown up." After all, they had been at war then. Compared to chasing the Golden Snitch, he had felt there was a more important "mission." Besides, Sirius's flying motorbike had a sidecar. Sitting in the sidecar was much the same, since they always acted together anyway.
Or perhaps Sirius had "pitied" James. If he had not bought a motorbike with a sidecar, James would never again have been able to enjoy "the feeling of flying."
Everyone saw it, but no one said it aloud. After all, it was James's last shred of "dignity."
Pomona returned to her office, took out the Butterbeer she had hidden away, and began gulping it down.
When the bottle was nearly empty, she let out a long breath and wiped the foam from her lips with the back of her hand.
The last time she had seen Harry at Petunia's house, he had looked like a pitiful little thing who had been abused, with none of the confidence one expected from a well-born child.
Petunia had grown up alongside Lily, after all; they were sisters. Pomona expected that even if Lily had raised Harry herself, his character would not have turned out much better than it was now. His father had become what he was.
But James was a family man now, after all. Naturally, he was different from a bachelor.
After putting down her glass, Pomona furtively looked around, then took a pack of cigarettes from the drawer and lit one. After being harshly choked by the first drag, she