Author's Note: Hey readers! It's only been like a year since I last posted a story! It was a busy a year. But now I'm back with a new Harry Potter story! Another Lily/James since the last one I wrote (and never finished) was basically an epic fail. I don't know if this story will be popular or not but I liked the idea (obviously) and I hope you lovely readers will like it too! I'll attempt to update at least once a week. Now enjoy the first chapter!

Chapter 1: Wrong

"Our first full day of our sixth year at Hogwarts is now officially over!" My best friend, Mary Macdonald, said with a tired smile as we flopped simultaneously into cushiony maroon armchairs in the Gryffindor common room.

"I hate school work," Carter Bait, my other best friend, complained. "It's the first day and we've already been given an essay in charms! I swear the professors just love to make us suffer."

"Isn't it wonderful?" Mary sighed. She'd already finished the essay at lunch. That was Mary for you.

Carter gaped at her in horror. "It is most certainly not!"

I yawned and stretched, brushing my dark red hair from my face. I had no desire to contribute to the conversation. Mary and Carter's personalities often clashed thanks to their opposing personalities and I had long ago learned to try my hardest not to get stuck in the middle of their arguments. It never turned out pretty. However as the minutes slipped past and their bickering didn't relent I finally saw fit to throw out my own opinion in an attempt to quiet them.

"I wouldn't call school work wonderful Mary, but really Carter it's not quite that bad," I mumbled tiredly.

Carter's gaze flickered between Mary and I. "You people are crazy!"

I just rolled my eyes. "But we're also your amazingly incredible best friends." It was strange how Mary, Carter, and I had somehow ended up as best friends. We were all so different.

Carter Bait was a halfblood. Her mum was a muggle and her dad was a wizard. She was fearless, very boyish, and preferred to be playing sports over anything else. Her school uniform usually looked less than pristine. Her robes hung open or were discarded entirely, her tie was always loose, her shirt was rarely tucked in, and sometimes she wore jeans instead of the required skirt. It had taken three years before the teachers finally gave up their attempts to change this and resigned themselves to silently handing her detention slips without the lengthy lectures they'd once given. Carter's black hair was cut to her chin and her favorite outfit consisted of a baggy t-shirt and basketball shorts. She didn't care much for schoolwork and usually put it off for personal Quidditch practice or going over game plays. She was a beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Mary McDonald was her opposite in every way. Mary was rich, pureblood, and used to the high life. She was the most girly, giggly, dramatic person I knew. Her clothes were designer and every outfit was put together with care. She was constantly looking in mirrors, checking her makeup, dabbing at the eyeliner highlighting her bright blue eyes, and fixing her perfect waist-length silvery blond hair. Unlike most girls of her status she wasn't a total airhead though. She was smart enough to be in Ravenclaw and a total know-it-all. She loved schoolwork and could always be found with a book in her hands. She was terrified of everything: spiders, mice, snakes, moths, the dark, heights, water, small spaces, lightning, boys, and a number of other things. She usually confronted these things with high pitched squeals, screaming, and tears.

"Potter alert!" Mary squeaked, her long pale fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt.

I looked up at once. If there was one thing we all agreed on it was that the Marauders were all very annoying, James Potter most of all. They could be alright sometimes when they weren't pulling pranks and acting like complete prats but most of the time that's exactly what they were doing.

"Hey Lily."

"No I will not go out with you," I said automatically at the sound of James's voice right behind me. I twisted in my chair to look at him.

James laughed. "That's too bad. So, now that we've got that out of the way, I came to invite you to the big start of school party in the common room tonight. Think you'll be there?"

I hesitated a moment before nodding. "Fine, I'll come."

"Awesome! Can't wait to see you there!" He said enthusiastically. His face was bright with boyish happiness. It was almost adorable. Almost.

I watched him race away with amusement tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"A party huh? Sounds fun," Carter shrugged.

"I can wear my new dress!" Mary exclaimed.

I chuckled and nodded, "I'm sure we'll have a blast as long as Potter keeps his grabby little hands to himself this year."

I heard the portrait hole creak open and thought nothing of it until I noticed the surprised looks of people around us. Turning once again in my chair I watched Professor McGonagall climbing through. She spotted me at once and briskly strode my way.

"Lily Evans, the headmaster sent me to collect you. He would like to speak with you in his office," she said softly.

I slowly rose out of my armchair. I glanced at my friends, wondering if they had any idea what was going on. They looked as confused as I felt. With a slight frown on my face I followed Professor McGonagall out of the common room.

We walked through the stone hallways until we reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Skittles" was the password that opened up the wall. We climbed the stairs until we reached a heavy wooden door. The professor knocked and was answered with a soft 'come in'. I opened the door and stepped inside. Professor McGonagall did not come with me.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, watching me sadly. He gestured to the chair facing him. "Please sit down Miss Evans."

I sat. My gaze drifted to the fire red phoenix perched behind him. It gazed back at me with intelligent eyes.

"I am sorry but I'm afraid I must be the bearer of bad news. The worst I can bring," the headmaster said quietly. The agony underlying his words and etched into his wrinkled face sent a shot of fear, burning like acid poison, through my veins.

"What's happened?" My voice trembled like a small child's.

"I am so terribly sorry my dear girl. Your mother was attacked by death eaters," Dumbledore said quietly.

I stared out the window behind him. I struggled to stay calm. "She'll be ok right? We can fix it?"

There was a brief, heavy silence.

"Right?" I demanded, swinging my eyes around to meet his electric blue ones.

Fear, anger, and pain twisted in my stomach, making me nauseous. The calm sympathy in the old wizard's face made me want to throw things. It made me want to smash things to bits until all the calmness fled his being.

"I'm truly sorry. Your mother is dead."

Dead. My mother. Those words didn't make any sense together. They weren't possible. Just yesterday she'd seen me off at the train station, her lovely young face vibrant and alive, and her loving embrace warm and reassuring.

"I don't believe you." My voice was ice, hard and painfully cold.

Dumbledore bowed his head so that I couldn't see his face. The floor tipped precariously. I was dizzy.

"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!" I screamed, jumping to my feet and knocking my chair to the ground in the process.

The old white-haired wizard continued to sit still with his face out of my view. He looked so calm. He looked so bloody calm. I despised him. I hated him for his calm and his lies about my mother.

I walked swiftly to the door. My heavy footsteps echoed in the unbearable silence following my scream. I tugged the wooden door open and looked back, half expecting him to stop me. The headmaster raised his head. His eyes were filled with tears.

I ran.

I flew down the stairs. My feet carried me through the twisting corridors at a sprint. Someone called my name as I burst through a door and out onto the grounds. I ignored them.

What did they matter? What did I matter? What did anything matter when the world was so wrong? Why should I care about anything when Dumbledore's eyes glittered with tears at the sight of my pain and horrible words that may not actually be a lie floated from his lips like toxic gas that seeped its way into my breaking heart, tainting it with something dark and agonizing?

I screamed at the sky. I screamed until my throat felt as if it would tear apart under the pressure of my weakening voice. It was all I could do, for my pain was beyond words.

Ending Note: Please review! I want to know what you guys thought. Is the story off to a good start? Is there anything I can work on? Constructive criticism is always appreciated as I like to improve my writing style and enjoy compliments too. :)