Disclaimer: As much as I wish it didn't, everything canon belongs to J.K Rowling
Also the image for this fanfiction was made by the talented viria13 on deviantart :)
Prologue
Destiny
Noun
1. FUTURE, fate, fortune.
2. FATE, providence, predestination, God's will.
OoO
'"James Potter," he says, shaking my hand. "And you are?"
I smile at the young boy sitting next to me. He has messy black hair (would it really hurt to brush it once in a while?) and bright hazel eyes. He's quite handsome, if you ask me. But no, I'm here to learn, not to meet boys.
"Lily Evans," I smile, shaking his hand.
The boy sitting next to him reaches over to shake my hand too. "Nice to meet you Lily Evans. I'm Sirius Black and these two," he gestures to two boys sitting on the other side of him, "are Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Now, mind if I call you Ginger? Your hair is very red."
My face instantly heats up, and I glare at this Sirius Black. He, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew burst out laughing. It's really rather rude, if you ask me.
I turn away from them, and look over to the Slytherin table. My one friend I had before I came here is sitting at it, staring glumly in my direction. I give Severus a small smile and wave. He waves back, but I can see how disappointed he is that we're not in the same house. But I can't help that, can I? I turn back to my table, and smile at three girls sitting opposite me. I met them on the train – Alison Walters, Marlene McKinnon and Lucy Thomas. They seem nice, and I'm glad I have some new friends in my house.'
It's funny how much a person can change over a few years. From a stranger to a loved one. From an enemy to a soul mate. This is my story. Merlin knows James will have a different one to tell, but for now, you'll have to be content with mine.
I don't believe in fate, or destiny, or karma, or anything like that. I believe that your life is what you make it.
And that's what I decided to do – I determined my destiny.
I think back to that day, where it all began. Did I know how important those people would be to me, eight years later? No, I didn't, but how could I? I was just eleven. It had barely started. How could we have known that we'd all be children of war?
