A/N: New story! I'm liking it so far … I'm going to do my best to make it unique; there's so many awesome SiriusOCs out there that it might not be amazingly original, but I still hope you like it.
I do not own Harry Potter, or anything that you might recognize. I do own Coraline Kavanagh. I like her a lot.
If you have any interest, I have a link in my profile, showing a picture of what I picture Lily looking like, and another of what I picture Coraline as.
Anyway, I hope you like this first chapter … I'm not sure if all my chapters will be this long!
Please review. I'd love to hear your thoughts and critique.
Chapter One
It was September the first, which meant two things; a) it was my first day back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after summer break, and b) I had been awake at dawn to pack my trunk and was currently storming about the house in a considerable state of panic. After four previous September the firsts that had turned out to be a horrifying experience, one would think I would have developed the foresight to pack well in advance, but no. No, definitely not. That would be much too easy.
My first year at Hogwarts, September the first had gone impeccably smooth; I had been packed days and days in advance, had been able to eat a hearty breakfast before leaving for platform 9 ¾ , and my mum had even trimmed by bangs for me. A leisurely, peaceful morning, one that I was sure would never be repeated.
"Mum!" I screamed, "Have you seen my Advanced Potions book?" I was on my knees, peering under my bed. There were several Muggle books under there, notebooks that I doodled in and maybe a pair of old underwear and/or socks, but no Advanced Potion-Making. Dammit. Of course, it would have to be the hardest thing to find; it was the one book I was missing from the haphazard pile of them in my trunk.
"Is it in your trunk?" Mum called back.
"No!"
"Under your bed?"
"No!"
"Nightstand?"
I hastily jerked open the drawer. "No!"
"Cupboard?"
I rifled through it, pulling clothes off of hangers, plunging my hands into pockets, destroying the neat little arrangement of boxes and books on the shelf, but – "No!"
"Well, then, I don't know, Coraline! What did you do with it?"
If I knew that, it wouldn't be lost, would it? I made a noise in my throat like an angry cat, and bent over my trunk. All right, I thought to myself, forget about the book. Make sure you have everything else. I glanced at the time; I had just under half an hour before we had to leave. I ensured I had everything else I needed in my trunk, and even made a half-hearted attempt to neaten it up before resuming my search for the stupid Potions book. I checked everywhere in my room, then checked my little sister's room, then the kitchen, the sitting room and finally, with just ten minutes to spare, found it nestled in the dog bed by the sofa, with some tell-tale chew marks that made me very keen on hunting down my mum's new puppy and –
"Oh, good," Mum said, interrupting my internal rant, carrying said devil-spawn puppy in her arms, "you found it."
I narrowed my eyes at the dog, a runty Siberian Husky with creepy bright blue eyes set in his stupid black face. "Look at what your dumb dog did!" I waved the book in my mum's face, displaying the chewed corners and ragged edges of the pages. The dog – his name was Merlin – wagged his tail and attempted to lick my elbow. I flicked his nose.
"Hey!" Mum cried, indignant, "It's not his fault you leave your stuff laying around."
"He probably stole it from my room! Like he did with my Dracula! And my History of Magic! And my Wuthering Heights! And my Ghost Stories of an Antiquary! And my Alice in Wonderland!"
"And I already replaced them, didn't I?" Mum said snappishly.
"Yes," I grumbled, glaring at Merlin. "I don't want him in my room when I'm gone; I'm sure he'll tear apart my Lord of the Rings next."
"Close your door then," Mum said, her mouth pressed into a firm white line.
"I don't want Sabelle in my room, either," I said, following her out of the sitting room into the corridor. Sabelle was my little sister, nine years younger than I, and spent most of her time snooping in my room. She also insisted on stealing my books, even though she wasn't old enough to understand them.
"I'll do my best, Coraline," Mum said, sounding tired, "I do have other things on my mind." I nodded, worrying my lower lip between my teeth. My dad was ill and in St. Mungo's, and had been for three months already. It was all the Healer's could do just to stabilize his condition; no one knew what was wrong with him. On top of this, my mum was five months pregnant, and the Healers feared that the baby might be infected with whatever it was that was plaguing my dad.
The doorbell rang, and my mum immediately had to cinch her arms around Merlin, who was barking madly and attempting to wriggle free. I skipped to the door and found my best friend, Lily, standing there dressed in blue jeans and a nice green jumper that brought out her eyes. The sun of the summer had given her a nice golden glow, and a few more freckles across her nose and cheekbones. Her thick red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she grinned when I opened the door.
"Hey, Corrie," she said, stepping forward into my hug.
"Lily!" I squealed. "I'm so happy to see you!" I pulled her into the house by her arm, and as the door closed behind her, mum set Merlin down and he sprinted for Lily, jumping around her legs. "I'll be right back, Lil," I said, bounding up the steps. I tossed Advanced Potion-Making into my trunk, and slammed the lid down, listening to mum ask Lily about her summer.
"It was alright," Lily said, "we went to Switzerland for two weeks, but I'm not much of a skier."
Mum laughed, "No, I never was either."
Dragging my trunk down the stairs (I can't wait until I'm legally allowed to use magic ... only five more months until my birthday!), their conversation was drowned out, but as I turned into the corridor, Lily was saying, "That would be much more fun, I'm sure."
"Would you hurry up, Coraline?" Mum said, "Mr. and Mrs. Evans are waiting."
"I know, I know," I said apologetically, "I just have to find Lucy." Lucy was my cat, and even though she was getting on in age, I couldn't leave her behind.
"Check the tree house," Mum said, but I was already on my way; she'd taken to hanging out in the cool shady tree house during the day, and sure enough, she was there, sleeping on her bed in the corner.
"Lucy," I crooned, crawling over to her, and she opened her bright aquamarine eyes lazily, switching her fluffy gray tail. "Come on Lucy, it's time to go." I gathered her gently in my arms, and she mewed softly in my ear. She had lost a bit of weight in the last week or so; I made a mental note to order some different food for her from the Magical Menagerie.
Lily offered to take her from me while I wrestled with my trunk, and preceded me out of the house. "Bye, Mum," I said, squeezing her tightly. Pulling back, I noticed she had tears in her eyes. "Mummy," I whispered, "Don't cry."
"I'm going to miss you, Cora," she said, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. "Take care of yourself."
"I'm going to miss you too, Mum. I'll write every week, I promise."
She hugged my head to her chest again; my mum was head and shoulders taller than me, and my dad was another head taller than her. I don't know why, but I apparently got the short end of the stick – literally. I was short – just under five feet, and slim. I looked barely thirteen, and I was going to be seventeen in a few months!
Mum and I exchanged our "I love you"s and I heaved my trunk through the door, down the walk and into the back of Mr. and Mrs. Evans' minivan before hopping into the back seat beside Lily.
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Evans!" I said cheerfully, and Lily's parents turned in their seats to beam at me.
"Hello, Coraline," Mrs. Evans said, brushing her dark reddish-brown hair away from her face. "Enjoy your summer?"
I nodded, "It was alright; the week I spent at your house was the best part though." My thoughts instantly drifted to the seemingly endless days spent visiting my Dad at St. Mungo's, and to the melancholy visit my Grandparents paid. No, I would definitely prefer spending time at Lily's, even with her sour sister, Petunia and her revolting boyfriend, Vernon around.
"Maybe you should come to France with us next summer, then, Coraline," Mr. Evans said.
I gave a groan of longing, "Don't tease me, Mr. Evans, you know I'd love to go to France."
Mr. Evans chuckled, and Lily grabbed my arm, her pink frosted fingernails digging into my flesh, "Please come, please? It would be so amazing if you came!"
"Wait and see Lily," Mr. Evans said, "It's a whole year away, yet."
We were on the freeway now, and Mr. Evans turned up the radio, singing softly to some jazz while Lily and I talked quietly in the back.
"Where's Petunia?" I queried, and Lily smirked.
"At home, with Vernon," she made a gagging noise, and I sniggered. "I can't wait until she marries him and moves away."
My eyebrows shot up towards my hairline. "They're engaged?" I asked incredulously, "Already? They've only been going out, what, nine months?"
Lily nodded ruefully. "Ten, actually," she corrected me. "But Petunia insists that he's the one, whatever that means. He asked her while we were in Switzerland."
"The only one that could stand to look at her," I muttered.
"Hey!" Lily said, an extremely fake look of outrage on her face as she punched my shoulder, "That's my sister you're talking about."
"But she's not old enough to get married, yet, is she?"
Lily shook her head, her thick red ponytail sweeping her shoulders. "Not yet, but she'll be eighteen in February, and then they're planning on getting married in the summer."
"Wow," I said, "That's so weird. I pictured you married before her." I wrinkled my nose and grimaced. I didn't like Petunia very much – she was not a nice person; constantly sneering at Lily and I, staring down her nose at us as though she were so much better than us, whispering and hissing behind our backs. And Vernon was just as bad; a large, rotund man with a skinny little mustache and beady little eyes … he reminded me of a grossly overfed rat. I mean, one of those rats that is like, the king of the rats and sits on his big fat arse in the sewer and waits for all of the other poor little rats to do everything for him … He acted like that, too, though, of course, not in front of Mr. and Mrs. Evans. They thought he was wonderful … "so polite, and dotes on Petunia". On second thought, I guess he and Petunia would be perfect for each other.
Lily chuckled, stroking Lucy's long gray coat. "I'm not quite as desperate as Petunia."
I laughed. "Thank Merlin for that, or else you'd already be with James."
Lily looked perfectly horrified. I loved teasing Lily about James Potter, who fancied her to the moon and back, and, I suspected, the sentiment was not entirely one-sided. Lily might rant and rage at the poor boy that fawned over her as though she was the last source of fresh water in the whole wide world, but deep, very deep down I think she secretly hoped that during one of these tempers, James would simply grab her by the shoulders and kiss her passionately. Yes, I do read romance novels, and what's more, I enjoy them!
Lily pursed her mouth, and shook her head at me, as I continued to smile mischievously at her. She knew of my suspicions, had told me I should see Madam Pomfrey at once, since there was clearly something wrong with my head, but had, at the most random moments, turned to me and hissed, "I can't believe you actually think I fancy him!" which made me think that she was trying as hard to convince herself as she was me.
"Poor Lily," I said, in a singsong voice, "Denial doesn't suit you, you know. The truth shall set you free!"
Lily growled at me and punched my shoulder again, but she was smiling.
We drove in silence for a bit; the country side rolled in green waves past us, dotted here and there with handsome horses and dairy cows munching grass, completely unfazed by our passing. I loved to look at the little farmhouses, and the winding roads that led to stately manors, wondering about the people who lived there. One home in particular was my favorite, and I looked out for it every trip to London; a beautiful Victorian era manor, painted yellow and white with a wrap-around porch, cuddled on its west side by tall, handsome oaks, rich green fields and bright heather surrounding it, horses in the pasture and a lovely, sparkling lake to the east of the house. I sighed, pressing my face to the glass, imagining what my life would be like if I lived in that house. I would be taller, that I knew for certain.
As we entered London, Lily leaned towards me, touching my hand, and asked quietly about my dad.
"Oh," I said, shrugging, "he's no better … but he's no worse, either, so I suppose that's good."
"They still don't know what's wrong with him?"
I shook my head. "All they've been able to do so far is find out what it's not."
"Well, at least they've narrowed it down," Lily said in a reassuring way.
I nodded. "There is that," I said, a little bitterly.
"And your mum? How is she?"
"As good as you could expect, I suppose." In truth, she cried a lot and flew into completely unexpected rages at the drop of a hat, but I suspected this was because her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. I was really quite proud of her … a person with less strength than she would have murdered someone by now, or at the very least have pulled out all of their hair. As it so happens, my mum has a beautiful head of thick, wavy, golden blonde hair which appears to be completely unaffected by her unusually high stress level.
Lily nodded, her bright green eyes downcast. "I really hope everything works out," she said, and I smiled, albeit half-heartedly.
"Me too," I said.
Silence again, but this time, one that I desperately wanted to be rid of; I didn't want to think of my dad. How very selfish of me. So, I said, "You've heard nothing from Severus?"
Lily's mouth instantly tightened and she paled a shade or two. I was instantly sorry to have mentioned it, and vowed not to do so again. "Not since that one letter." Early in the summer, one of the first few days I had been over at her house, Lily had received a letter from her ex-other-best-friend, Severus Snape, who, at the end of last year had had the gall to call her a Mudblood, if you can believe it. Personally, I was glad to be rid of him; he and I had never really gotten along, but I knew that Lily was really torn up about it. In the letter, Severus had been all kinds of apologetic, saying how much he missed her etc. etc., but Lily did not respond. I had wanted to write him a scathing letter, but Lily wouldn't let me do that, either. "I don't want to speak to him again," she had said.
"Oh." I didn't say anything else on the subject.
We arrived at King's Cross Station with just under twenty minutes to spare; we were quick to grab trolleys and pass through the barrier between platforms nine and ten onto platform 9 ¾ so that we could spend the remaining time bidding farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Evans.
"Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Evans," I said, smoothing my flyaway curls back into my bun.
"You're very welcome, Coraline," Mrs. Evans said, hugging me somewhat awkwardly over Lucy.
"We're always happy to see you," Mr. Evans said, also hugging me.
I grinned, and stepped back, allowing Lily some space to say goodbye to her parents. They hugged her, told her to be good, write to them often ("And that goes for you, too, Coraline!") and to keep up with her studies. They really needn't have reminded her; Lily was perfect.
"Have a great year, girls!" Mrs. Evans called after us as we boarded the train, and we waved back at them until they turned and disappeared through the barrier.
"I'll go find a compartment," I said, pushing Lucy onto my shoulder.
"Alright," Lily said, "I have prefect duties for a bit, but I'll meet you as soon as I can."
I groaned, stamping my foot. "Stupid prefect duties."
Lily nodded, sighing heavily. "I know, right?"
"Fine," I grumbled. "Ditch me …"
Lily grinned, and, heaving her trunk along behind her, made her way to the front of the train to the prefect's compartment. I went the opposite way, slipping past people loitering in the hallway with a growing frustration until I found an empty compartment near the very back of the train. I didn't even bother attempting to hoist my trunk into the overhead storage; my trunk was far too heavy, and I couldn't reach it anyway. I pushed it over, and it fell with a dull thump onto the floor, much like the sound the door to the compartment made when I slammed it shut. I put Lucy down on the seat, before flopping down beside her, and opened my trunk carefully, lest its contents spill out everywhere.
Should I read, or should I sleep? I asked myself. Sleep, definitely. I pulled out my favorite stuffed toy – a well-loved dog with rough hair and a chunk missing from his ear that I somehow had not discovered how to sleep without – and wrapped him in a particularly large jumper, creating a makeshift pillow for myself. I placed the pillow on the seat, and laid down, not caring that I took up the whole seat; I didn't want anyone joining me unless it was Lily. Lucy meowed irritably and jumped off the seat when I tried to cuddle her into my abdomen.
"Fine then," I said, as she took up residence in the corner of the seat across from me, staring at me disapprovingly with narrowed eyes. I stuck my tongue out at her before closing my eyes with a contented sigh. So quiet …
I was just about to doze off when I heard the compartment door slide open, and reluctantly, I opened my eyes to see who it was. James Potter stood there, and he smiled at me. "Hi, Coraline," he said.
"Oh, hi James," I said, sitting up.
"Good summer?"
I nodded. "Yep. And you?"
"Great." Silence. And not the good kind. Thankfully, James broke it after a few awkward moments. "So … how did you do on your OWLs?"
He was sitting down, much to my chagrin. I wished that he would just go away; Cliodna forbid his little gang joined him in my compartment.
"I did really well, actually. How about you?"
"I got all of the requirements to become an Auror," he said proudly.
"Good for you," I said, watching as Lucy climbed into James's lap, regarding me coolly as if to say, "I like him better than you." Stupid cat. Smiling, he stroked her fur, slouching in the seat. His black hair was longer, though still terribly messy. It would never look as gorgeous as Sirius Black's did, falling into his fathomless gray eyes with a sort of casual elegance that many girls could never hope to achieve, but I had to admit that James Potter was quite a looker.
He looked up at me, eyebrows raised, surprised to catch me staring at him. I blushed and looked quickly away. "So, um …" he said, clearing his throat and groping for some topic of conversation. "What are your plans for after graduation?"
"I'd like to be either a Curse-Breaker with Gringotts or work in the Department of Mysteries," I replied, and again he looked surprised. "What's that look for?" I asked, but he shook his head. "What?" I pressed.
"Nothing, I just expected you to be a Professor or something…" he shrugged, grinning sheepishly.
I chuckled. "Why?"
He shrugged again. "I don't know…you're a really good tutor, so I thought you'd make a good Professor."
"Oh," I said, and I was just about to thank him when the compartment door slid open.
"There you are, Prongs!" and in strode James's partner-in-crime, Sirius Black. Tall, dark, and handsome Sirius Black with the stormy gray eyes, wavy black hair that fell just past his jaw, the roguish grin and chiseled features … Sirius Black with the full lips and eyelashes to die for, and the cocky swagger and devil-may-care attitude … oh, and Peter Pettigrew lurking behind him, as he leaned casually/provocatively against the wall. "We were wondering where you'd gotten to."
I looked quickly away when he entered; I was not his biggest fan, despite the fact that I harbored a stupid, clandestine crush on the boy. Lily knew, but I'd threatened to spread illicit rumors about her and James Potter should the secret get out. Coming from her best friend, people might just believe it.
My crush had begun in second year; I remember that he'd started playing Quidditch that year, and he was about to play in his first game, and I had run into him on an extremely rare occasion; a time when Sirius Black was feeling vulnerable and insecure. I had been on my way to the match with Mary, but it was a good deal colder outside than I had anticipated, and I went back to the Common Room to fetch my coat. Sirius had been there, huddled in one of the arm chairs, looking pale and scared. I'd asked him what was wrong, and he's burst out that he was no good at Quidditch and he had no idea why they'd let him on the team, and he was going to blow this match for everyone; they'd lose and it'd be all his fault.
I'd been quick to reassure him, telling him that that was ridiculous, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team wouldn't have let him on if he wasn't the best, and they were lucky to have him; that if he didn't play they would surely lose.
And then I'd walked down to the Quidditch pitch with him, assured him that he'd be brilliant, and he'd smiled at me and said, "Thanks so much, Coraline." And then he had kissed my cheek. And after that, my sanity where it came to Sirius Black was hopelessly lost.
Unfortunately, after that, he had promptly forgotten my name and when he wasn't teasing me about one of numerous things he'd found amusing about me (such as my height, or lack thereof; my reading glasses; the braces I'd had until fourth year; or when he'd turned my hair green with a water-balloon filled with ink; he's called me "Little Gherkin" ever since), he completely ignored me. Obviously, I wasn't the only person in Hogwarts that he tormented, but honestly, I wasn't thinking of them at the time.
And then, in fifth year, Sirius and James decided that they wanted to be Aurors, and that to become an Auror, they needed Potions, which just happened to be one of their worst subjects and one of my very best. Since Lily and I were already working with Remus Lupin, the fourth Marauder – a very nice and somewhat peculiar boy, James and Sirius simply assumed that they could join our study group. Lily refused to assist James and Sirius, but I did not have the willpower to do so. Growing a backbone was on my list of things to accomplish this year.
Sirius settled himself in the seat beside me, and I snatched my stuffed dog away from him. Thankfully, he didn't comment. "Good summer, Gherkin?" he asked offhandedly. Sirius had, in fact, learned my real name last year, but he still insisted on calling me by that stupid pet-name.
"Yep," I grunted, still not looking at him, "And you?"
"Great."
Dear Merlin, Lily, please come and rescue me.