Welcome, young (or not so young) reader to my first ever fanfiction, a one-shot as a full story is still beyond my limited capabilities. I apologise in advance for the spelling, I am writing in European English using an American spell-check so some words may be less than correct.
Disclaimer: I am obligated to state that despite the fact that I am borrowing characters from the wonderful J.K. Rowling, I regrettably do not own said characters or the genius that is the Potterverse. Except Nessie, I own Nessie.
On with the story we shall go!
As I sat in the rickety wooden boat with three of my fellow first years, I did not gaze up at the castle in mesmerized wonder as is the cliché first year activity, but instead I watched the unicorns flit through the trees, the centaurs gallop along the bank of the lake and the giant squid raise a slimy tentacle above the water in welcome. I did briefly acknowledge that the reflection of the castle was indeed magnificent but nothing, not anything, could match the sheer beauty of the Hogwarts grounds.
I was sorted into Gryffindor, after a lengthy debate between that and Ravenclaw, and quickly ostracised myself from all of my housemates, except Lily Evans. Lily seemed to take a liking to my quiet and studious nature, so much so that she forgave me of my frequent outings into the forest. While the other first years were wearing layers upon layers of make-up, talking about the latest clothes and gossiping about boys that their eleven year-old hearts were supposedly attracted to, I was either cooped up in the library with the insufferable but kind Lily or outside savouring the warm summer sun.
A few weeks into the term, Lily and I were just sitting down for dinner when Mary MacDonald and Marlene McKinnon not so subtly sit down next to us and begin giggling. My unasked question is answered when a shadow falls over my plate and I turn my head to see a boy with messy black hair and sparkling hazel eyes staring over my head at Lily. I shift my gaze to my friend to see her mustering the most irritated glare she can manage.
"Evans my love, how is your pretty face this evening?"
Images flash through my mind, seven years of relentless flirting, marriage, a baby, death, growth and then more death until finally happiness.
A smile lights up my face as after only a few seconds, I tune back into reality.
"Bug off, Potter. Leave me alone."
"But Evans, we're meant to be! A third year divination student said we're written in the stars and everything!"
"Excuse me," I frown.
'Potter' looks down at me, as if only just realising him and Lily aren't the only ones in the deathly silent Great Hall.
"Oh. You are?"
"Nessira Windchime. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Might I ask who you are?"
"You mean Lily hasn't been talking to everyone about me?"
"As much as it may surprise you, no she hasn't."
"Oh. Well I'm James Potter, Evans' future husband."
"I see. And why do you think that is, Potter?"
"Please Nessie, don't encourage him!" Lily groans.
"Because we were made for each other."
"But, James," I say, lowering my voice, "Can't you see that Lily is less that pleased that you are declaring your undying love for her when she is in the middle of dinner, which by the way we have both lost our appetites for?"
"She's just playing hard to get."
"Potter, listen to me and listen well. You are eleven years old. You shouldn't be even thinking about girls right now, especially because you have no idea how to approach them."
A boy with even messier hair than Potter and a wolfish grin appears beside him and chucks his arm around Potter's shoulders.
"You tell 'im Windchime."
"And you are?"
"Sirius Black."
"Well. Anyway, Potter, you are treating Lily like she doesn't have a say in whether or not you send up getting married in a decade."
"But I love her."
"No. You, like every other eleven year old boy on the planet, is in love with the idea of her. You can't fall in love at eleven. Maybe you should try being friends with her."
"Nah uh, James. Never get in the freindzone with a girl." Black speaks up.
"For the record, I'd be more likely to go out with a friend than someone I hardly know." I snarl, sending a glare towards Sirius. I mean, I might as well start teaching my fifth year boyfriend some manners now, right?
"If you three are quite finished with your whispering, I would like to return to the coming room. Coming, Nessie?"
"Yep, definitely. Boys are very boring conversationists."
"Is that as word?"
"I don't think so."
It's a bit sad that James doesn't take my advice until seventh year, but hey, we can't all die at sixteen, right?
Ok I'm really worried about this whole story but one thing in particular… she's a sort of seer person… just so that you aren't like 'What in the cheesy tortoises just occurred' so yeah. Critique is appreciated lovely reader!