Author's Note: The inevitable result of watching "Prisoner of Azkaban" twice in one weekend, and listening to Coldplay's "The Scientist" during a ponder-ish moment.
What ensues? A romance/angst. Oh, the drama.Kloves/Rowling definitely put that line/scene in the movie for a purpose. My depressing interpretation...
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Before the Dark
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September 1, 1971
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"You look like hell."
I concluded there was no rational way to reply to a statement as outspoken as that. I'd already learned their names, but hardly knew them well enough to discern whether or not they were always this honest.
"Well?"
"Thank you," I managed to say dryly.
Getting the hint, Sirius shut his mouth.
"You are in deep trouble, my friend," James said warily to Sirius. I wondered how they could consider themselves friends after what must have been only a few hours on a train.
"How so?" Sirius asked, rather casually.
"Well, isn't it obvious?" James said, laughing. "You're a Black, aren't you?"
"Not so much."
"I see."
"What's going on?" Peter squeaked, in fear that there was something going on beyond his knowledge.
"Did you miss the Sorting? He's in Gryffindor, the idiot."
"Is that bad?" I asked uncertainly. "I mean - we're all in Gryffindor."
"Yes, but didn't you notice how many Blacks are really at this school?"
"Only two besides me," Sirius said defensively.
"Well, they're not the first, are they?"
I frowned. "What's that got to do with - "
"They're all in Slytherin," Sirius explained nonchalantly, examining his fingernails.
There didn't seem to be any connection in my mind, though I knew I must have been missing something. "Why's that bad?"
"Do you know anything?"
"A little."
"Muggleborn, no doubt," James muttered under his breath.
"And what is so wrong with that?" a voice interposed, rich with indignation. A face appeared to match it, wearing bottle green eyes and the deepest shade of red hair - which, at the moment, seemed almost threatening.
I caught my breath, wondering why on earth she felt she should defend me. Who was she, anyway?
"Nothing, Evans," James replied earnestly.
"I have a name, you know."
"Doesn't mean I have to use it, does it?"
Her mouth worked for a moment - evidently, she'd forgotten what she'd been arguing in the first place. A quick moment later, her eyes were narrowed furiously again.
"There is nothing at all wrong with being born from a muggle family, and I better find that you don't give this boy a hard time about being - "
"I'm not," I interjected - however entertaining the interchange was, it had to end sometime. "My dad told me what he could about wizards. My mum's the, er, muggle. I'm a half blood."
The Evans girl quickly shot her eyes in the direction of her shoes in order to hide the redness rising up her cheeks.
"Pretty nasty waste of breath, wasn't that Evans?" James whispered in her ear.
She looked as if she could have ripped his hair out, but with her nerve for anger lost with embarrassment, she merely ran up the stairs to the girl's dormitories as quickly as possible, with James laughing as he watched her go.
"That was really shallow, mate," Sirius said - a rather blunt way of breaking the silence, but nonetheless effective.
"It was not," James replied, his eyes still on the staircase.
"It was irrational, if not anything else," I managed to say.
"She is, isn't she?"
Sirius closed his eyes, a sure sign that the poor guy was hopeless.
"Why do you call her Evans?" Peter asked.
"That's her name."
Sirius grinned. "And I always thought it was Lily."
"That's funny," James said wryly. "I'd have to say that girl is the least thing from a flower that ever walked this earth. Bloody hell, she's vicious..."
I found I had to disagree.
Though, it later turned out that my opinion meant little - if not nothing.
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Short, I know. There're only three memories written, so I'm making them chapters. The next should be up in a minute or two.