A/N: I've read so many Jily and Wolfstar fanfictions, but most of them just include the Marauders and Lily, so I decided to write my own multi-chapter with OCs from 1st to 7th year (hopefully). Please enjoy
WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS M/M AND MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE SEVERE CLIFFHANGERS.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and JK Rowling only.
(Also this fic doesn't have a beta reader. If anyone would like to beta, please PM me.)
I. Evanora
She was sitting in a tree, her legs thrown carelessly over its weathered bark. There was a book opened on her lap, though she did not look at the words. If she did, they would only blur in a film of tears. She stared instead at the sky. It was a clear morning, but a few clouds could be seen. On a good day, she would have spread herself onto the grass and pointed out each and every one of the shapes.
Today was not a good day.
There was yelling in the house that day. Yelling because the other child could not do the things she could.
"Squib!" they were yelling. "You filthy little squib! You sully the good name of the Selwyn family." They screamed and screamed and though they were not yelling now, the girl could feel the cacophony of noises reverberating inside her mind. These words were not meant for her, though she felt their sting anyway.
She knew today was not a good day, because the letter had come for only one. Hogwarts would not open it's doors for her brother, no matter how much her parents wheedled and bribed. Hogwarts would never take a squib.
They would try. She knew that they would try. "He's not really a squib," they would say. "He's just a late bloomer." And when they were turned down, they would disown him. A squib in even the kindest families was shunned.
Taking her eyes at long last from the sky, she lept down from the tree, her fall cautioned by unconscious magic. She ran for the house. She knew that soon her brother would be sent away.
She wanted to say goodbye.
II. James
The owl was early. That didn't matter of course, since the boy was early as well. He practically threw himself down the stairs and stood by the window, waiting.
He knew it would come. He'd known it ever since he'd blown up his birthday cake when he was eight. There between the icing and cake, he'd realized. This was what he had been meant to do. He'd grown up with everyday magic in the household. Floating dinner plates and self washing clothes were commonplace, just as the house elves that seemed to be there and yet not at the same time. The magic was familiar and safe.
Which was why he was not surprised when the letter came. That did not mean that he wasn't excited. He could feel the energy burbling through his blood and veins, setting his very soul on edge.
He could imagine it now. He would have a friends there. Not that he didn't have friends here. It was a tad bit lonely being alone in the large house with only his mother and father for company. A place in his heart, deeper than he could reach, longed for people to share his life with. He could feel the pull acutely some days. Those days when it rained so hard, the boy could feel the dampness seeping into the crevices of his skin. He would watch the droplets and wish he had someone to escape with. And how they would play.
It was a wonderful thought.
III. Peter
The letter fell into the boy's porridge before he could open it. His expression fell into one of such comical dismay, that his mother would have laughed if not for the honest disappointment she could see in it. She let out a small sigh. The boy began to curse the clumsy owl, who had a habit of dropping letters in food items before he delivered them.
After a couple of drying charm and one carefully cast cleaning charm, the porridge was at last cleared from the letter. The boy's face finally relaxed and he opened it with careful fingers. Fingers that were normally clumsy and fumbling.
It said:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Pettigrew,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
He flipped the page and read the list of materials quickly and smiled. It was a hesitant smile, as if he didn't believe this was true. But it was.
He was going to Hogwarts.
IV. Lily
She knew she was a witch. She'd known for a while now. Petunia didn't like it.
They were best friends. The girl could still remember the tea parties they'd held in the garden. They used to dance around, their small hands clasped tightly together, laughing uncontrollably at some stupidly childish thing. She could remember how they would tell eachother everything. Petunia was her best friend.
Now Severus was. He didn't make fun of her. He didn't look at her like she was some kind of monster. He looked at her like she was special. And that made her feel special. They were both special.
Petunia didn't even look at her anymore. Not like before. Her glances were jealous, masked slightly by hatred. She knew that somewhere inside, Petunia still loved her, just not as easily as before.
It was settled now. She was to leave for the school. "School for Freaks," as Petunia called it.
She wanted to leave. She craved the magic and wonder. It was like something out of an Enid Blyton book. It was surreal.
She didn't want to leave. She knew she would miss her family. She missed the easy friendship she'd had with Petunia. Letters couldn't fill the gap left when she would leave.
But she would find friends at Hogwarts, wouldn't she? Besides Sev would be. And that made it ok.
V. Sirius
The house was cold. It was far too cold. He hated it. He could not wait to leave. If only his cousins were not going with him.
His family were almost unbearable that summer. The "Great Black Reunion" as he liked to call it, had taken place this summer. If there was something he hated more than his house, it was the "Great Black Reunion," which consisted of the adults mingling and being pompous and overly pretentious and the younger members of the family trading curses and trying to make good connections. The GBR was officially his least favorite week of the summer.
This year, however, it was worse. This summer was filled with thinly veiled threats should he get into any other house but Slytherin (which he was quite determined to do). Even Andromeda, his favorite cousin, took part in the ritual (as it was usually done to the incoming Hogwarts students in the "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black"). Though, afterwards she'd told him she wouldn't mind if he was a Ravenclaw or something (though he thought that very unlikely).
Secretly he hoped he'd be in Gryffindor. That would spite his family. It was a warm thought that kept him alive throughout the horror filled summer. Spiting "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" would be a pleasure.
VI. Remus
The 17th of August had left him with more scars. They dotted his stomach like a miniature galaxy. There was nothing the healers could do about the monster slowly scraping away at his humanity.
His acceptance to Hogwarts came as a shock to him. Lycanthropy was taboo. It was a wonder his parents hadn't abandoned him when they found out. It wasn't his fault, they told him. He believed them, if only for a moment.
They never really told him how it happened, just that it wasn't his fault. They took him to healers (ones that didn't mind his ailment), but they were few and far between.
His life was one of isolation and hurt. They told him that he was five. He told himself that he lost his humanity at five. How could it not be his fault? After all, it was his humanity that was lost.
His father and mother tried to sympathize. He loved them for it. But it was not enough.
He wanted a place where he could be himself. Where people would love him for who he was behind the wolf and not hate him because of it. He wanted a friend.