Picture a house. It can be any house - big, small, tall, short, fancy, plain - it could be the house next to yours, or maybe the house across from yours, or maybe even your house. Now picture a room in this house, any room - the only distinguishing factor being the half-packed trunk resting on the fluffy, light blue carpet. Well, perhaps there are a few distinguishing factors, such as the white bedspread with daisies appliqued to it, and the flowy white curtains on the big, bay window, or perhaps the pictures of sunrises and beaches and things like that put up on the wall with simple white frames, and maybe the art easel set up in the corner of the room. Taking a passing glance at the room, one might think that the room was home to a young girl who enjoyed art and sunrises and iced teas at ten in the morning. But maybe one would look a bit closer and see that the flowery bed was unmade, that the flowy white curtains were pulled away from the window and looked as though they hadn't been pulled in front of it in a long time, that the easel was dusty but otherwise completely paint-free and clean, that the paintings and pictures were crooked and contrasted horribly with the un-framed pictures of owls and cats and young girls in school uniforms, and that the room was a complete and utter mess. The room was not home to a young girl who enjoyed art and sunrises and iced teas at ten in the morning, but a forty-two-year-old woman who fancied herself as a young girl who enjoyed art and sunrises and iced teas at ten in the morning and lived vicariously through her daughter, Petunia, at least until Lily had been born, and then, when Lily had turned eleven, she forced their mother to go live vicariously through the family's two cats, Maoam and Tim-Tam. The room's occupant really was a young, red-headed girl who enjoyed pancakes and owls and soap operas and really, really hated her sister.
Her sister was the one who forced her mother on her poor, unsuspecting little sister and made Lily's life a living hell until the exact minute Lily had turned eleven and an owl had dropped off a letter addressed to her, in which Lily had made a split-second decision that if she was old enough to have strange owls delivering letters addressed to her and only her, even stating the bedroom in which she slept, she was certainly old enough to not be stuffed into lacey white dresses and her hair twisted into a big, red bow on her head.
What was really funny about the whole thing was that Lily's father had caught the whole scene on film, because he had been filming Lily blowing out her birthday candles. The clip was later confiscated by Lily's mother because it was horribly embarrassing for everyone. The scene went a little like this:
"[birthday wish]" Lily said, and blew out her eleven candles in one big breath. Not a minute later, a large, tawny owl flew in through the open window and landed in the cake, a thick envelope clutched in its mouth.
"[something obscene]" Mrs. Evans shrieked, and leapt out of her chair, tripped over the cat, hit her head on the windowsill and fell on the floor, still shrieking obscenities.
"[something laughable about 'stupid sister gets all the cool stuff on her birthday']" Petunia muttered, and stormed out of the living room in a fit, tripping over another cat in her distraction, shrieking in pain from hitting her hand on the corner of the table in an effort to steady herself from tripping over the cat, and falling, face first, on to the hardwood floor.
After getting over her laughing fit at both her mother and her sister's expense, Lily had wrestled the letter from the unwilling owl and hitting her elbow on the table in the process.
"[something kind of whiney]" Lily moaned, rubbing her elbow.
"[expression of astonishment and vague anger]" Mrs. Evans gasped, after whacking her head on the table twice in her efforts to stand up.
At this point, Mr. Evans had the end the video because he's laughing too hard.
Not the best few minutes of the Evans's lives, yeah? Oh, and if you're wondering about the owl and the letter, it was a supply list for the boarding school Lily would be heading off to in 7 months. That school was very on top of things, wouldn't you think? And so very punctual.
Fast forward to exactly seven months, two days, nine hours and fifty-three minutes later (september 1st, 9:53 a.m., for those too lazy to do the math):
Lily tapped her foot impatiently, standing in her room with her trunk in one hand and gilded gold ticket in another, "Mum" she said with forced patience, "You can just owl me anything I've forgotten, you know, Sev said -"
"Oh, I know what Severus said, but how in heaven's name am I supposed to get an owl?" Mrs. Evans fretted, trawling through various drawers and holding stuff up at random, "Do you think you'll need this?" She held up a flowery top with lace ruffles along the hems.
"Mum, there are uniforms at Hogwarts, I've told you about a billion times!" Lily said, now with a touch of impatience, "And if we don't hurry, I'll miss the train." She added, hoping that would inspire her mother to move along a bit quicker.
"Ohh, all right," Mrs. Evans sighed, then lifted a small book out of the bottom of one of the drawers and handing it to a befuddled Lily, "Write in this, okay?"
Lily rolled her eyes, but shoved the blue-green journal in her flower-coated rucksack all the same and adjusted her skirt, "Alright, alright, now let's go!" She pointed towards the door for emphasis.
Another fast-forward, this one not quite so long, to the exact moment where Lily met James Potter. It wasn't instantaneous loathing on Lily's side, nor was it instantaneous adoration on James's side. It was a 'hey this person is kind of cute maybe i like them maybe i don't' sort of moment. Of course, James is a total idiot about it, but that's James for you.
Lily was nervous, walking towards platform nine and ten. She looked at her ticket once more, staring at the slightly wrinkled numbers as though they might tell her where exactly platform nine-and-three-quarters was. She'd tried asking a few people, but they all looked at her condescendingly, as though she was playing make-believe and had just asked them where Unicorn Land was.
She was, understandably, starting to panic, as it was ten forty-two, and she was nowhere near the train, nor even the platform.
"Mum, there was no need to come with me, I know how to get to the platform …" came a loud voice, startling Lily out of her reverie. She looked around to find the source, and saw a black-haired boy with squared glasses pushing a trolley with a trunk and a cage with an owl towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. She blinked. An owl? This boy must be a wizard, then, for no non-wizard would have an owl otherwise.
"Excuse me!" She called out, running towards the pair as fast as she could with her trunk bumping along behind her, "Excuse me!" She said again as she stopped next to the bemused woman, "Could you tell me how to … to …" She pointed vaguely at the ticket clutched in her sweaty hand.
"To get to the platform?" The curly-haired woman said, smiling slightly, "Is it your first time?"
Lily nodded, breathless with relief.
"Don't worry, dear, it's James's first day too," She nudged the black-haired boy gently and he looked up and froze, staring right at her, his mouth open slightly.
Lily reddened slightly and turned back to the woman, James's mum, she supposed, "So how …" she gestured at the two platforms again.
"Oh! Yes. Well, you just go right through there," James's mum pointed at the barrier. Lily nodded vaguely. The boy was still staring at her. Lily felt rather blushy. Then the woman's words hit, "Er, what?"
James mum smiled again, "James'll demonstrate. James, dear, would you mind … ?"
The words seemed to shake the boy out of his haze, and he smiled crookedly, "Sure, Mum," He swaggered (there isn't really a more applicable word) over to the barrier and casually poked one arm through, all the while flashing Lily looks that were probably meant to be attractive but only made him look kind of constipated.
"So, er, the barrier is a hologram?" Lily had only read about those in science fiction novels. She approached the barrier and experimentally stuck a hand through through it.
"A what?" James's mum looked baffled, "It's magic, you see, I don't know a hologram …" She shook her head and turned to James, "Jamesie, dear, you'll visit for Christmas, yes?" Without waiting for a reply, she kissed him on the top of his head and walked away from the two eleven-year-olds.
James turned to Lily with a smug look on his face, "I'm James. James Potter." He waited expectantly, as though she was supposed to bow to him or something. She did not comply, but merely looked at him, confused, and replied, "Er, Lily. Evans. Lily Evans."
James smirked and attempted to lean against the wall. He had apparently forgotten that they were right by the barrier, and fell through it.
Lily laughed (she didn't like him that much), grabbed her trunk, deftly stepped around the fallen boy, and scampered onto the platform and into the train.
First Year
aka
The New Girl (Muggleborn)
As a small child, Lily would sometimes sneak into the living room and watch the things her parents were watching. She held a special affinity for the shows with dramatic soundtracks and dramatic stares and close-ups, because those were the ones that had the least dialogue and were the easiest to understand.
She also loved to listen to her parent's music, usually her dad's, and she would dance with him, sometimes, to his favorite songs.
As such, Lily had a special place in her heart for soap operas and the Beatles. So naturally, she had hoped her roommates would like them, too, and they would watch movies together on Friday nights and sing along to the Beatles at three in the morning and do each other's nails and makeup and things. Lily was not aware that 'technology' was a bit of a foreign concept at Hogwarts, and that, as she would later learn, the amount of magic there interfered with all forms of tech (luckily, it was 1971, and there wasn't much tech to begin with).
Now we set the stage for when Lily first meets her roommates, and learns about 'purebloods' and 'muggleborns' and that purebloods had gone their entire life without listening to one Beatles song and how was that possible?
Lily clambered in through the portrait hole (how did paintings talk move? she wondered) and slipped up the staircase to the girls' dormitories, stepping around squashy, red armchairs and sinking her feet into the soft, red carpets, feeling the warmth from the hearth gradually disappear as she zoomed up the steps to a door marked 'First Years' and nearly tripping in her excitement as she ran over to one of the five empty four-posters and flopping down on it, nearly disappearing into the soft, red comforter. She jumped up immediately, though, and took in her surroundings.
There were five beds, two on each side and one across from the door, and each had a dresser to the left and bedside table to the right, with scarlet curtains hanging down so the occupant could pull them shut for privacy. There was a door next to one of the beds to the right of the entrance, presumably leading to a bathroom, and a big window behind the bed across from the large door.
The bed were not all empty, Lily came to realize, and she had been lucky to choose the only one that was still empty.
There was a small, mousy-haired girl in the bed next to Lily, who was looking at her with wide eyes. There was a girl with short, brown hair in the bed across from Lily's who was looking at her with vague interest. There was a tall, blonde girl next to the short-haired girl who had looked up when Lily had burst in, but was now back to reading her magazine, Witch Weekly. The last girl, digging through her trunk, was looking at Lily, and smiled when Lily made eye contact with her.
The girl by the window was the first to offer her name, "I'm Alice. Alice Gadewoltz." She smiled again, then continued to sort through the items in her trunk.
The short-haired girl was the second, "I'm Marlene McKinnon," She promptly stood up and walked over to the red-head, "What's your name?"
"Lily Evans," Lily said, slightly overwhelmed.
"Lily? That's a pretty name!" said the mousy-haired girl, smiling broadly, "I'm Mary Macdonald. That's Liza Logiathin." She pointed at the blonde girl and whispered, "She's not very nice,"
Liza looked up, "You know, I can tell when you're talking about me, muggleborn." She turned back to her magazine.
Marlene frowned, then walked over to Liza and whacked her on the head, "Be nice." She walked back to her bed and pulled out her own book, then walked over to Lily, "Have you read this?" The title read, 'Beating the Bludgers: Defensive Strategies in Quidditch'.
"No," Lily said softly (what was Quidditch?), "What are bludgers?"
Liza snorted loudly, "Oh, great, another one."
Alice threw a sock at her, "Shut up, Lizzie." She went back to unpacking her trunk, muttering to herself.
"Are you a muggleborn?" Marlene said knowledgeably.
"Well, my parents aren't magical, if that's what you mean." Lily said, still very confused.
Liza rolled her eyes, "Lemme explain it to you, yeah? Muggleborns are wizards or witches raised by muggles, and purebloods -" she straightened up a little, "- are wizards or witches who's family are also wizards and witches."
The room was silent for a moment, then, "Who wants to play Exploding Snap?" Alice held up a deck of slightly smoking cards.
"What's Exploding Snap?" Mary and Lily said in unison.
Liza groaned loudly and mashed her face in her pillow.
Third Year
aka
The Rise of the Marauders
Do you remember that boy, James Potter, from a few sentences back? He's relevant in this one.
"There's a boy I like," Mary whispered to Lily while they sat through a demonstration of the lighting charm in Charms class.
"What?" Lily hissed back, all the while furiously scribbling notes on her parchment, ink splattering everywhere.
Just as Mary opened her mouth to explain, an amused voice cut in, "Miss Evans, there is no need to take notes with such ferocity," Professor Flitwick squeaked. Lily looked up, blushed, then turned back to Mary as soon as he turned away, "What?"
"There's this boy I like," Mary repeated, a small grin gracing her features.
"Who?" Obviously, as the two girls were thirteen, crushes were something to be giggled about - not altogether serious things.
"James Potter," Mary giggled, then turned back to Flitwick with a small smile still on her face.
There was a group of second-year boys that had 'formed' this year. They called themselves the 'Marauders' and they were the stupidest group of individuals Lily had ever had the displeasure of meeting. It didn't help that the ringleader of this group of prepubescent boys was someone Lily loathed with all her being.
James Potter. The most annoying twat that had ever walked the face of the earth, including her sister, Petunia. Obviously, that was something big to say, because Petunia had held that coveted spot for a solid twelve years. Maybe he wouldn't be as bad if it weren't for his annoying habit of asking her out every time he saw her. She and Marlene had been keeping track, and he had asked her out a grand total of one hundred and fifty-three times since school had started. Last week.
Obviously, her roommates knew this, and were careful not to mention him around her - even Liz had managed, and it was clear to everyone that she was borderline obsessed with him. It was apparent that Mary had forgotten about this unspoken rule in her recent infection with James-itis, as Lily had so cleverly named it (it wasn't very clever, but it made lily happy, so there you go).
It was quickly becoming clear to Lily that the only half-decent bloke in that group of idiots was Remus Lupin. But more on that later.
Fourth Year
aka
Lily's First Kiss
Lily had read a lot of romance novels in her time, and they always seemed to talk about kissing as the most amazing thing to have ever happened to them, or that it was 'perfect' or something like that. Lily had wanted that, sort of.
She wanted the sweet, handsome boy who walked her to classes and took her on dates and brought her flowers every Tuesday. She wanted that 'perfect' kiss in a sun-soaked garden with birds singing and a slight breeze. She wanted what the romance novels said.
There was a boy she had been all but pining over for the last year - Tyler Woodson. To her, he was perfection in a human boy - wavy, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a sweet, gentle smile. He was a tall fifth year, and she was a short-ish fourth year, but still she thought that he would ask her out to Hogsmeade.
He did.
That weekend, he had taken her for a walk. Their conversation was stilted and awkward at best, and his hand was clammy and cold from the brisk October air. Nevertheless, Lily still thought he was perfect.
He took her to Madame Puddifoot's.
Lily had been laughing awkwardly at a joke he had made that wasn't all that funny, so she was too focused on making her laughs believable to notice where they were going until it was too late.
They had sat in silence, sipping their warmed-over tea, when Tyler blurted out, "I like you."
Surprised and blushy, Lily replied almost immediately, "Me too" Of course, she didn't much like him anymore (he was so boring), but she still thought that maybe he was half-decent in oterh aspects.
Probably inspired with newfound confidence, Tyler leaned very close and mashed his lips to her's. Lily was shocked and stunned, and so was left with her eyes open in shock while he looked slightly pained as he awkwardly moved his lips against her immobile ones.
It wasn't at all like Lily had imagined it.
Fifth Year
aka
Lily Becomes a Prefect
It was a peaceful summer morning at the Evans's. The sun was out and shining, the sky was a cloudless blue, and the whole world seemed peaceful and calm …
A loud shriek shattered the silence.
Mrs. Evans sat up in her bed with a start, her braid slapping her in the face. She leapt out of bed and rushed down the hall towards her daughter's room, wherein Lily was standing in the middle of it, staring at a piece of parchment in her hands, "What's wrong?" Mrs. Evans breathed, half-relieved, half-terrified.
Lily turned towards her mum, a smile splitting her face, "Mum, I'm prefect!"
Mrs. Evans sighed in relief. No one was dead, no one was dying, her daughter wasn't pregnant, all was well, "That's lovely, dear!" She gave her daughter a small hug and left the room, humming.
Lily sighed.
Prefect. She was prefect. Something she had been working for since she had heard of them. She could only hope that Someone decent was her partner - God forbid it be one of the Marauders. Except for Lupin. He was alright.
Seventh Year
aka
Where the Story Properly Begins
A/N: AAAAND END CHAPTER ONE!
Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter - I'm pretty excited about this story! ^-^
Reviews are love!
-Jewelie