A/N: So I could appologize a hundred times, but it won't change the fact that I do not currently own a time-turner (yet) and I am unable to go back in time and force myself to stay dedicated to this story. Yet here I am, years later, with a new inspiration to continue this story. So yes, I DO plan on continuing this, and yes, I DO plan on finishing it. And I now also have a plan writen out for the whole story, so I have a plot line and I'm not just winging it anymore. Hopefully that will help with my comitment issues, yeah?

THE POINT: For previous readers of both About Us and it's first-draft-I-had-no-idea-what-I-was-doing predeccesor, Balance Beam, please bare with both me and this story, and keep reading. For those new to About Us, welcome, and I hope I don't dissapoint!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Jk Rowling's wonderful work. Just the plot and a few OCs

The morning air hung still and silent, as if it didn't want to believe that night was over. It was calm; no noise except for the occasional chirp of a bird or the hum of a car engine in the distance. Unfortunately this quiet couldn't last long (it never did), as it was interrupted by a piercing shriek. If one listened closely they could hear the sharp thump of several doors slamming, and whether you were listening in or not, everyone could soon hear the high-pitched tones of yelling that quickly shook the neighbourhood.

This yelling was centred in a white picket-fence house, a solid two stories with a blooming flowerbed on the wrap-around porch that surrounded the house. It was, overall, the picture perfect normal household. If not for the constant shouting that happened in said house, it would be the type of place where people would look at and say, "Now there's a house where everything's perfectly normal." However, as mentioned before, the screaming seeping through the walls somewhat ruined this perfect image.

The neighbours who had come to their windows to investigate, simply would shake their heads, close their blinds, and return to their respective rooms. It was, they would say matter-of-factually, just those Evans girls again. And that would be that.

Lily Evans jolted awake, the echoes of the crash that had woken her still ringing in her ears. She rolled her eyes and pushed her dark red mess of hair out of her face: even in her half-awake state, she knew exactly what was happening.

"Three, two, one," she whispered, dragging her body upwards and into what could be passed as a sitting position and with seemingly perfect timing, her sister Petunia Evans began to shout. Lily sat there for a moment, trying to shake off the morning haze to calculate her chances of getting to the door to lock it before her sister had time to get there. She could have, of course, used her wand, but unfortunately it wasn't within reaching distance as it usually was. It was at the moment sitting on top of the worn surface of a large russet trunk which bore a large embellished H on the front, while a scarlet lion was on the lid. So wand atop of trunk, both were currently sitting neatly in the corner of her room. The trunk had been, of course, packed and ready for days. Lily Evans was nothing if not practical.

Lily winced, getting ready for the door to be thrown open – she had waited too long. Sure enough, seconds later Petunia launched herself into the room, not bothering to knock. Not that Lily had expected her to: even when they had gotten along, however long ago that might have been, Petunia never knocked. She preferred to barge in, always, wanting to make a statement, Lily thought wryly.

"LILY! Can't you keep that ruddy owl-" Petunia cut of suddenly as a sharp knock could be heard from the sitting room – two sharp knocks that were loud enough to, apparently, be heard through Petunia's shrieks.

Lily groaned: her brief relief at the interruption was short-lived as she realized who must be at the door. The only person pompous enough to have such an obnoxious rap: Petunia's fiancé, Vernon Dursley.

Petunia must have had the same thought as Lily, though probably without the negatives, for with one final glare at her little sister, she dashed out of the room, her hands flying to her short brown hair in an attempt to calm it.

Lily listened in barely disguised revulsion as her sister's voice carried up the stairs into her room, followed by the somehow choked sounding tones of Vernon Dursley. Her sister's attraction to that whale of a bloke was beyond her. not only was his personality horrendous, but on a vanity level their appearances were polar opposites -where Petunia was all angles, Vernon Dursley was… let's just say there wasn't an angle in sight.

With a groan, Lily finally pulled her self out of her bed completely, shivering as the chilled air hit her legs. She normally had no problem with mornings-in fact, she actually liked mornings. She was a morning person. But she hadn't gotten much sleep that night. And not surprisingly for today was September first, and she never got sleep the night before the first anyways. Today was the day she was supposed to go back to school. Back to what was in some ways, more of a home than she'd ever previously experienced.

With the thought of returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry now in her mind she felt a burst of energy as a smile lit her face and she skipped over to the joint loo that connected to Petunia's room. Which was a bother, considering how long Petunia could take in there each morning. Lily herself could go through her regular morning routine in under ten minutes, shower included. Her best friend Dale joked that she was an abnormality as a girl because of this. In her own defence though, she thought, what was there really to do? She didn't wear any makeup: she didn't needed to, her bright green eyes stood out enough without any added help. So all really left was to take a shower, then brush her teeth and hair. Brushing her hair was actually what usually took her the longest. It was a dark red, wavy with a few lingering loose curls, and impossibly thick. With hair like hers, excessive conditioner was always a must.

Lily scowled for a moment at her reflection in the mirror, glaring at the numerous freckles scattered over her face. If possible, it seemed the summer sun had multiplied them. In truth, she didn't think she was all that pretty. Not ugly, of course, just not pretty. What she didn't know however, was about all the boys at Hogwarts who thought differently, and would have told her just that in a heartbeat if they weren't scared of what James Potter would do to them if he caught them flirting, or even talking, with Lily. But, that said, they were too scared, so she was never told. Except by James himself, but since when had she ever listened to anything he said?

Just as she was leaving the bathroom, she heard her mother's voice float up the stairs, her father's following soon after.

"Lily! Lily dear we need to leave! You're going to be late! Oh, what if you miss the train! What would we do? Lily! Lily? Lily, are you listening to me?"

"Lils? Hon, we should probably go. Your mother is freaking out down here… don't want her to panic, yeah?" This statement was followed by a muffled grunt of pain with distinctly female laughter following. Lily chuckled at her parents' behaviour as she headed towards the door. Her father acted more child-like than she did at times.

Still smiling she grabbed her wand off of her trunk and muttered a quick wingardium leviosa under her breath, causing her luggage to float obediently several inches above the ground. She came down the stairs just in time to see her father rubbing a red blotch on his arm, casting sidelong looks at her mother, who was holding a plastic spoon, obviously the offending item, and laughing merrily at him.

"Lily-pop!" her dad exclaimed, noting her entrance into the kitchen. "Ready to go then? You moth – what I mean to say, is we, we were starting to worry!" he stumbled out, casting a quick glance at her mother, checking to see if she had noticed his error.

Apparently she hadn't, because she paid him no mind as she began to fuss over Lily.

"What are we going to do about breakfast for you? You can't just skip it! But then you can't miss the train! What time does it leave? Have you seen my keys? We have to go! But what about breakfast…."

"Mum! Mum, slow down. I can eat on the train, which leaves at eleven. Just like the past 6 years. It hasn't changed. You're keys are on top of the cabinet, and I'm good to leave now, if you and dad are ready…?" Lily replied calmly, eyebrows raised awaiting a response.

"That's my Lily-pop!" Mr. Evans exclaimed jovially, breaking the silence. "Always the voice of reason. I told you she was the smart one!" he glanced around, realizing what he had said. "Err… not that you aren't smart though! I only meant…."

"Quit while you're ahead, dear," Mrs. Evans replied finally composed as she smirked up at him briefly. "Now lets go, we have to get Lily to the station."

Forty-five minutes, several more rants about breakfast, and two teary goodbyes later, Lily was finally waving goodbye to her parents as she walked towards platform 9 ¾ and through the bricked wall.

She looked up at the scarlet steam engine in front of her, and she felt an odd tightening in her stomach. This was her last year. Her last beginning-of-school train ride. The whistle blew shrilly then, reminding her that it was almost eleven. The train left on the dot whether you were onboard or not. So she climbed on quickly, not wanting to be left behind. She started pulling her trunk down the long corridor, heading towards the usual compartment she shared with her best friends, Marlene McKinnon, Cassie Daniels, and Daleena Markwood (but good luck to the poor soul who called her Daleena instead of her preferred Dale).

Looking around, Lily found herself in an unrecognizable section of the train. Great, she thought wryly, I got on at the opposite end of the train. Her compartment was all the way down on the other end.

"Need some help there Evans?" She felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle and she looked up to see a horribly familiar figure standing in front of her, gesturing to the heavy trunk she was pulling. A horribly tall figure, she added on, lifting her head up in order to look at him properly.

James Potter. She scowled. Here we go again, she thought. I haven't even made it to my compartment and he's already started!

"Out of my way Potter," she ground out. This was not how she wanted to start off her 7th year. She glared up at him, trying to put as much annoyance in the look as she could. Looking at him though, she couldn't help but notice, as much as she hated to admit it, he had grown out more over the summer. He had messy black hair, sticking up in all directions, which of course he loved. He was always messing it up, trying to get that 'just stepped off a broomstick' look. He also had glasses, which actually worked for him, and a reasonably well defined face. His obvious muscles from years of quidditch didn't hurt his general appearance either. Overall, Lily thought sourly, he was very attractive…. If it wasn't for him being an arrogant toe rag, that is.

"I'm just offering my services, do I need to bring a woven flag?" He exclaimed, holding his hands up in mock surrender, a smirk starting to form on his lips.

,

"It's a white flag Potter," Lily fumed," And it wouldn't matter if you did! You're in my way!"

"Well if you let me help you, I'd be out of your way in a jiffy." Yes, there was defiantly a grin on his face now.

"No!"

"Blimey Evans, just let me help…"

"You can help me by going away!"

A look of hurt flashed across his face, but was gone so fast that Lily wasn't even sure she'd seen it in the first place. Of course that wasn't it, she thought uneasily. This was Potter. This whole thing was just a game to him.

"I guess I'll see you later then Evans." He said after a while. He turned around and started walking away, leaving a shocked Lily behind him. Again, this was Potter! She thought incredulously. Since when did he actually listen?

"Oh, and Evans," he turned his head, calling over his shoulder. "Nice to see you too."

If Lily was shocked before, it was nothing to what she felt now. Where was the inappropriate comment, followed instantly with him asking her out? The arrogant smirk that never seemed to leave his face? He actually seemed… well…. decent, she thought in amazement. But no, perhaps it was just a weird day. It would only be a matter of time before he was back to his usual, annoying self. There was no way, she thought bitterly, that James Potter could have changed.