Just so it's known to anybody who's psycho enough to actually click on the link and read this story, This is like my first fanfic. I've been reading for ages and i finally got the guts to make an attempt at writing one.
Oh, and since everyone seems to do it although it obvious they don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters mentioned in the book.
Fire, often defined as the combustion of flammable materials to create heat, light and often smoke.
She was the girls that all the boys wanted and all the girls wanted to be. Everything anyone could ask for. If you ever looked for a list with the criteria for a guy's perfect girl, that is, if a guy did write a list. You would discover that this girl in particular fit them all and then some.
She was the girl whom, when she glided, note that she glided ever so gracefully, heads turned and jaws dropped in awe. She was effortless beauty, an enigma. With her flowing auburn hair, her perfect porcelain skin, her plush blood red lips and the most amazing of all her eyes, they were amazingly beautiful almond shaped orbs the exact shade of emerald. She had a slender frame which boasted enough curves to draw attention but not too much to look like a cheap escort. Her beauty rivalled that of a first class supermodel, in fact, it surpassed that when combined with her brain and personality.
Her presence was like a flame, no, her presence was a flame. She warmed the room with her bright easy smile, her gentle musical laugh, her ability to create joy and laughter with such ease and the way she could just as easily offer a helping hand to whoever needed it, no matter who it was.
Perfection in human form was what she was. The moment she first stepped into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she had laid claim as queen of the school. Without realizing it, on her first day within a few hours, she had risen above the ranks to Hogwarts social royalty.
Yes, her perfection was wonderful, brilliant even. She excelled in everything she tried and had a social circle with enough admirers to rival the most accomplished girl to come out at the London social season. But this perfection which seemed to come so effortlessly had but one flaw, it created boundaries.
Like fire, they were drawn to her like moths were drawn to light. But yet they never came close enough to truly know her to see who she really was under her mirage of perfection. They placed her on a pedestal so high, she felt sick and nauseous every time she looked down, but looked anyway because it was as close as she could get to everybody.
She had a bubble of perfection floating around her, it looked so impenetrable, no one bothered to try so she kept floating around in her perfect cushioned world, screaming to escape. She was Lily Evans and the aforementioned escape was found in a boy.
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