My So-Called Life

Disclaimer: Nothing in this story besides the plot is ours

Chapter One – The Meeting

I need to get better friends.

Yes, I know that "I need to get better friends" is no way to start a story, but it's my story so I'll tell it the way I like.

Anyway.

I need to get better friends.

Yep. My friends. All of them. From Sirius Black, the funny, hyper, insane, raving lunatic who is said to be a burning hunk of man flesh (I wouldn't know. I'm only going with what the girls say), to Remus Lupin, the bookish, thoughtful, selfless, solicitous guy that you go to for advice (he's also a werewolf, but that doesn't bother us), to Peter Pettigrew, the meek, shy, hesitant, everyone's-little-brother type of kid who is somewhat of a scaredy-cat (or rat, depending on how you look at it). All of us together make up "The Marauders."

Now let's get one thing straight. We didn't come up with that name. I mean, we're not like the Charms Club kids who call themselves the Elusive Double C's. Professor McGonagall just called us marauders when she caught us stealing boomslang from the teachers' private store in our second year. I can't even remember why we needed boomslang anymore. Probably for some lame twelve-year-old prank to turn the Slytherins pink. Our pranks have matured loads since then. Last week, we used our newfound Transfiguration knowledge to turn Snape into a cow, complete with greasy hair and udder.

Okay, so I guess that's not what most people would call mature. But it is a bit more creative than turning people pink.

Anyway, the name stuck and spread, so now we are widely known as the Marauders.

We usually hang out, just the four of us – when we can, that is. Most of the time, Mandy and Diana are trying to butt in. Which is really annoying, because they're so full of themselves. Fact: Mandy and Diana are popular. Fabrication: Everyone loves them. I most certainly don't care at all about their matching hair-ties, although it is clear that they do judging by the amount of time they spend talking about it. Unfortunately, I have most of my classes with them. Even Care of Magical Creatures, a class I thought was sure to scare away the girls, but once Diana heard that Sirius was doing it, she decided that she "absolutely adores animals" and promptly signed up for the class.

Oddly enough, this story starts with a Care of Magical Creatures assignment. Our teacher, Professor Kettleburn, has this weird obsession with "learning about creatures' anatomy in a way that is helpful and easy to understand." Don't ask me what that means. But anyway, he insists that we keep sketchbooks of all the creatures he shows us in class. I hadn't finished mine in class that day, so I had to finish it after school on my break. Why anyone would want to draw a Diricawl is way beyond me. It's a fat fluffy bird. Who cares?

So I was walking down to the paddock when I saw this girl that I hadn't ever seen before. But the thing is, she didn't look like a first year. In fact, she looked to be about my age. She had vivid red hair and was wearing a big baggy sweatshirt. But the absence of a robe wasn't what caught my eye – what had was the fact that she was skateboarding. That's a Muggle thing; I only knew of it because of Muggle Studies. But even with my minimal knowledge of the subject, I could easily tell she was very good at it.

She had found a particularly uneven section of the path to Hogwarts and was using the two steps in the middle as foundations for her jumps. When she reached the end of the downhill segment, she would pick up her skateboard, walk back to the top of the path, and ride down again. She didn't seem to realize I was there, let alone the fact that I was staring.

After she'd done a few runs, I figured I should close my gaping mouth and go talk to her, my Diricawl sketch completely forgotten. As I got closer, I could make out the color of her eyes: a deep, emerald green. And then I realized something I hadn't noticed before. She wasn't wearing any makeup. That surprised me even more than the fact that she was skateboarding. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't that surprising, but still, almost all of the girls at my school wore makeup, at least all the ones in my year. But here she was, definitely a girl, and she wasn't wearing lip-gloss or any of that other shiny stuff Mandy and Diana always talked about.

"Hey," I said once I got close enough for her to hear me. She didn't even look up as she continued her run down the path.

"Hey!" I said louder, thinking she hadn't heard me. This time she looked up briefly as she passed, a withering look on her face.

"So… what're you doing?" I asked, taking another brave stab at conversation as she walked past me on her way back up the path.

She gave me a look from the top of the trail, showing that she thought I was a psychotic idiot. She hopped back on her skateboard and began to ride down the path again.

"Skateboarding," she answered as she passed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which it was. But I wasn't thinking about that. I probably also should have realized she didn't want to talk to me just then, but hey, I'm fifteen. I don't notice these things.

"Right. Well, you're really good at it," I tried the next time she went by.

"Uh, thanks," she replied in the same manner as before.

"I'm James Potter," I said, holding out my hand for her to shake, although I guess that was kind of dumb since she wasn't really in hand-shaking proximity – she was at the top of the trail again, busy getting on her skateboard.

The next time she passed, she came to a complete stop in front of me, hopped off her skateboard, and stepped forcefully on the edge so that it sprang up into her arms. Completely ignoring my outstretched hand, she rolled her eyes and said, "Lily Evans." And then she walked away, skateboard under her arm.

Not the usual reaction to an offered hand. I mean, usually you'd shake it. But I guess the whole situation was pretty abnormal, wasn't it? Not exactly the usual happenings in my so-called life.

Remembering the sketchbook I held in my hand, I slowly walked towards the Diricawl enclosure, contemplating my strange encounter with the girl called Lily Evans.

A/N: Read and review! Please and thank you!