Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything J.K. Rowling does, okie dokie? By not putting a disclaimer in the past, I screwed myself over. So…yeah. I do not own anything that was created by J.K. Rowling , Scholastic Books, all other affiliated publishing companies and Warner Studios. Anyone else I forgot, I'm SO sorry! None of them gave authorization for this story! PLEASE don't sue or wish something bad on my computer!

Description: The story of Emmeline Vance, a woman hardly known in Harry's world. See as she ventures through Hogwarts, life, first love, teen angst, and the dark powers which loom above her like a wet blanket…

Living a Lie

I. Through it All

Hello…you. I'm writing this journal because, to put it simply, I'm BORED OUT OF MY MIND, but that's besides the point. Trust me, they say Heaven is all sunshine and rainbows and everything you could ever possibly dream of. Well it is, but that makes life frightfully boring, and to pass my time, I've been reliving my life, so to speak…And I've decided to write it all down. That's where you come in, journal. No, I refuse to name you, so you will keep your title as 'you'. Anyhow, here it goes….

I've always been, what some might call, a tomboy. I've never liked frills or lace, and I've ALWAYS hated the color pink. People were even mistaking me for a boy when I was a baby. Tomboy wasn't my only nickname when I was growing up, though. Chunko, fatty, fatlard…You get the picture. My brother was, of course, the biggest antagonist, which was to be expected from an older sibling. Until I reached puberty I was HUGE. My mother put me on a diet when I was seven, thinking it would help, but when has restricting a child of food EVER been a good thing? Exactly. But yet again, this isn't about my depraved mother or childhood diets. It is all about me, and if you don't like it, I'll have to tell you this. Sit on a spit and rotate. NOW, on with it.

My brother was born six years before I was, but that didn't stop us from being close. As I aforementioned, he teased me quite a bit, for it was all in good fun…I made fun of his obsession with our mother's dresses…More on this later though!

I was born in Dijon, France, but my stay there was short-lived. Within two years, they decided such a tourist attraction was NOT a place to raise two children, and we were relocated to a pureblood based town on the outskirts of London, into a moderate sized four-story house (including the attic and basement). We had moving portraits and the like, and in the parlor, we had the family tree I despised so much hung up. I suppose it would be marvelous to mention that my blood is "pure" as some would dub it. I'm sure I've been confusing the lot of you actually reading this…If anyone IS reading this…

My first few years on Earth are honestly a blur to me. All I seem to remember of those times were lots and lots of colors. Those colors are the reason I opted for black as I got older, although nobody really seemed to understand that. Try wearing nothing but dresses for YEARS, then tell me how you feel. Mother would always reason with me, saying that all women wore ONLY dresses EVERY day in the past, but then, that's why it's the past!

NOW, since my brother was six years older than me, it's natural that he got his letter first. I was five when a chocolate brown barn owl came swooping through the house, streaking past my bedroom. My cat, Aysel had a field day chasing it through the house, nearly catching it when it landed to give my brother the letter. I followed her , my cat that is, there, just in time for the thick envelope to drop onto his bedspread. I was shooed out immediately afterwards, though he came screaming by a few minutes later. My brother always was slightly excitable…

And so, my father took him to Diagon Alley while Mother and I stayed home, and a few weeks later, my precious brother was gone. Meanwhile, mother began my home schooling. They refused to send me to a public school, fearing I'd do something to a teacher. While my brother was always a bit eccentric, I tended to be rather short tempered. And so, schooling commenced for us both for several years.

My mother wasn't really keen on teaching me many things I would have learned in a public school. Math for instance. She only taught me the very basics, and it was some years later before I even saw anything such as a variable, or a graph, or really ANYTHING of the sort that wasn't a basic sign. She taught me how to read and write, of course, she wasn't THAT depraved, but the majority of my lessons were on manners and etiquette. In contradiction, I would belch in public and dirty my skirts specifically so I could change into pants. I was a ruffian of a child in all honesty. If I had a daughter who acted how I did, I think I would probably strangle her.

My birthday is on August 15, and the day I turned 11, I had to be coaxed out of my bedroom to join in birthday festivities…Birthdays were always a big affair with my family, purebloods swarming everywhere and such. I met quit a few people I'd grow to love and hate over the years in those early birthday shindigs…People such as the Malfoys…The Blacks…Other such LOVELY families…For several years, I thought that there were only purebloods and muggles in the world. I'd never taken into consideration that we had the title 'PUREbloods' for a reason. My brother changed that thought when he came home from school that first year…He told me stories about Quidditch games and half bloods and MUGGLEBORNS, which sent quite a shock through my system. I'd never batted an eye when people would talk of filth at Hogwarts before…I'd thought they were referring to dust…I'm getting off track, aren't I?

Well anyways, getting BACK to the present story…I had to be pulled out of my room, then changed into a party dress in Mother's bedroom…It made me look like a purple marshmallow, but she wouldn't let me leave without it, and thus, purple-marshmallowy and all, I went downstairs to the parlor.

Of course, there were people who I hate today who I hated even then. People like Narcissa Black, who did nothing but gossip and talk about fashion. She was a year older than me, and made sure I knew it. Always. Because she was gorgeous and lovely from a young age, she was OBVIOUSLY superior to me…Heh, yeah right. She was the perfect angel when the adults were around, but as soon as they were gone….you know the story. She'd pinch my arm and kick me under the dinner table at occasions, childish things such as that. Once, she even went as far as dumping a pudding all over me, which resulted in me attacking her and then subsequently being confined to my room. Needless to say, we aren't the best of friends.

Then there were people like Regulus Black, who had no mind of his own. He was a year younger than I was, and was also Narcissa's cousin. There seemed to be something about the Black family gene that made all its members attractive to the point that people were almost too ashamed of themselves to be by them. Regulus was always one who stayed in the close-minded wing of his family. What they believed, he believed in an instant. This was always a great pet peeve of mine, whish is why I suppose I never liked him…

And of course, there were those people like Lucius Malfoy who was quite the evil little prick even when we was younger. He and my brother were in the same year at Hogwarts and absolutely despised each other. Lucius was a prefect at Hogwarts, and would make Head Boy in the future…People like him always seem to accomplish the greater things. I used to respect and idolize that fact…Now it makes me nauseous. It was by his words that my brother had been dubbed a 'muggle-lover' and was to be avoided at all costs. HE wasn't forced down to the party…He was cooped in his room, probably talking to his friends via Floo…Humph. Despite all the gifts I received, I was really only interested in one thing. The one thing I didn't get. My Hogwarts letter.

It was the next day that I woke up to find a barn owl resting patiently on her knee. When it saw I was awake, it dropped the letter and left. Having just woken up, I was still slightly groggy, but when everything caught up to me, my eyes flew open and I shrieked in delight. It had finally happened! Now I realize everyone knows what the Hogwarts letter says. If you don't know, then you sure as hell shouldn't be reading this. But I guess I'll tell you what was in it…for old times sake. There was the introductory letter, the supply list, instructions for the train and such things. Every time I saw my name, written so NEATLY in green script, I would squeal, eventually causing my brother to come in and yell at me. Now a gangly 17 year old, my brother was everything I wanted to be. The best role-model a girl could ask for. Well, except he'd been pretty much disowned by my family…

You see, the purebloods in my family aren't accepting when it comes to homosexuality. They think it's odd, unnatural. Later, I would think about how muggles could say such a thing about us. When I found out, it didn't shock me. As I said before, he'd always had a sick fascination with our mother's dress robes…I'm getting off topic again, piss it. But yes, I got my letter. I, Emmeline Aurelia Vance, was GOING TO HOGWARTS! Were it not for my short magical outbursts every once in a while, my parents would have dubbed me a squib long ago. HA! In their faces!

Now, since my parents are too busy with their 'charity work' and buttering up the Ministry, they had absolutely NO time to bring me to the Alley. Thus, Roland got the job. If you're too slow to figure this out, Roland is my big brother. Well anyways, this part is boring as hell, so bear with me alright? These are MY memories.

We flooed in to The Leaky Cauldron and the garish accessories and people shocked and amazed me. We stopped for a butterbeer, my first ever. Now let me tell you, there's a reason why they don't allow anyone under third year to drink those things. I was slightly tipsy for the rest of the day.

We continued on to Flourish and Blotts, picking up my books. I literally ran into a bookshelf, almost knocking over several cases. After this slight mishap, I was alright, but I don't think the dent I left in the shelf has worn out yet…

I got my robes from Madam Malkin's, where Roland literally had to threaten me into getting sized for the girls' uniform. The boys' looked MUCH more appealing, but I suppose Hogwarts wasn't into cross dressers back then.

Roland informed me that Mother had decided I would not be allowed to bring Aysel with me to Hogwarts. She said he was too troublesome. So I was bought an owl. A great horned owl that I quickly dubbed Digby. I think mother had been expecting something a bit more regal considering how beautiful the creature was. Roland got a great kick out of the whole ordeal, as he usually did with such things.

I think I was too 'happy' to remember the rest of the trip, seeing as my memory has again become a colored blur. That leaves me with explaining everything else in my life I suppose.

So on September first, Roland and I were dropped off at King's Cross, given a pat on the back and abandoned. You have to love how affectionate my family is. He helped me through the barrier and such, then we parted once we boarded the train. I was left standing there aimlessly. Everyone I'd ever met who went to Hogwarts was either older than me with friends of their own, or an arse. Usually a combination of both. I certainly wasn't going to sit with my brother either. That would be WAY too humiliating.

So I was walking, looking for a compartment holding someone around my age. I saw one cart filled with a few boys who looked about my age. I knew one of them to be Sirius Back, and I vaguely recalled one of the others from a Charity ball I was dragged to. Porter his name was, or something to that effect. I decided against them quickly though. I'd met Sirius once, and he'd been very rude to me. If he and this Porter chap were friends, I'm sure none of them were very nice, so I continued on.

It wasn't until I was passing by the last car I found someone. A very short girl, wispy, definitely my age. She was alone, with her head in her hands. Alone, just like I was at the moment…So I decided to sit with her. I stepped inside, depositing my bag onto the seat next to me, then I sat down. I know, this sounds VERY rude, but I didn't think she'd mind. Indeed, she looked up at me with big green eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked. Her hair caught in the sunlight, practically blinding me it was so red. I shielded my eyes for a moment before informing her.

"I'm Emmeline Vance. Who are you?" I asked, wondering if she was maybe from a lesser wizarding family. She glanced at me, probably taking in my features as I was hers…

"Lily Evans." She smiled at me. "Just Lily, my parents had a thing for flowers." she admitted. I poked through my knowledge of the family lineage…There were no Evans on our tree…Without thinking, I blurted out quite possibly the rudest thing I've ever said in my life.

"You're not a pureblood, are you?" I had a mean tone in my voice and I knew it, but for some reason, my family's snootiness got in the way of kindness on her behalf. Her eyes widened considerably.

"No…But you're not going to call me that weird name are you? Another boy called me a mudblood…What is that?" she asked. She seemed scared out of her mind, and I mentally slapped myself for doing such a thing. But that word. Mudblood. I would NEVER call someone that. Ever.

"Mudblood is a bad word people who are from full wizarding families call people who aren't. In this case, it was you…But no, I won't call you that." I was talking like she was someone of lesser importance than me. What was WRONG with me? I shook my head. "I'm sorry." I looked at her apologetically. She had a fierce look about her now, quite different from the shy girl I'd walked in on not a moment or two before.

"Ugh. So THAT'S what they called me! That arse." she muttered the last part. I'd never heard someone be so free with a curse word before, other than an adult of course…She seemed very brash, but then, wasn't that exactly the quality I was looking for in a best friend? She voiced the words I'd been thinking. "Wanna be friends?" she asked. I grinned at her, revealing my slightly crooked teeth. Bloody orthodontia…

"Yeah!" I said, giggling. She joined in as well, and I'm sure we spent a good five minutes just sitting there giggling…I never thought I'd ever do such a thing. But then, in my future years, there were many things I'd do that I never thought I would…but that's a story for a WHOLE other time…

"So where do you live?" Lily asked later on during the train ride. I shook off the initial shock of the broken silence before answering her.

"A suburb of London. What about you?" I was interested to see where my muggle-born friend resided. Did she live nearby and I'd never known? How could I have missed muggles in a solely magical neighborhood? I knew I was slightly naïve, but that didn't stop me form being curious. She smiled grimly.

"I live near Surrey." she answered. It was a short response, but then, I hadn't given much of a reply to her question either. We really didn't have so much in common, but we'd latched onto each other as outcasts and new students and we would remain like that for a long time. But doesn't everyone do that at some point, even if they can't stand the other party? Oddly enough for two chatterboxes, we didn't speak for the rest of the train ride, other than to excuse each other to change into our Hogwarts robes. The silence was almost painful, in its own way, but I didn't know what to say to her. I was still slightly uncomfortable being with someone who'd never been exposed to magic before. What if she was simple, and knew absolutely nothing about ANYTHING? I'd had to stifle a laugh when she opened her first chocolate frog. I've always thought they were dreadful, but Aysel and Digby have always been fond of them…I prefer Ice Mice myself.

We made it to Hogwarts in due time, where an odd man with one arm led us to the boats that would bring us to the first steps of our magical education. Little did I know the pain and the wonderful experiences that would wait for me behind the doors that led to the castle I would call home for seven years.