A/N: I realize that whenever I have issues with life, I churn out some of my best works.
What a writer I am, huh.
Disclaimer: Yes, I own Harry Potter. I also own two helicopters made of cheese, an entire country named after me that specializes in selling anti-zombie guns, and a bed made out of jasmine flowers.
Don't judge a book by its cover.
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That was what she had always been told, as soon as she learned to walk and talk. "There are bad people out there who will act all nice to you, but all they want to do is to trick you. One day, they will take away everything you have," her father always warned her, with his serious face and sharp green eyes. And she, like a obedient little girl she was brought up to be, nodded rightfully at her father's warning, taking in every word.
And she also found that what her father said was quite true. As she grew to see more of the world, she saw the 'bad people' he always loved to warn her about, the men that would charm and woo a women into doing his deeds, to fill his desires, before throwing them away like old rags, the bystanders and seemingly kind strangers that got kids bagged and held for ransom in just an instant of a moment, using various different methods that the police could never keep up with, the women who gave men their bodies as the men gave them their gold. She ripped off people's masks like tearing paper, destroyed their sweet facade before they even had a chance to use it. And honestly, what sweet facade?
It disgusted her to the core, to see the darkness that enveloped the world she once upon a time thought to be beautiful and pure. To notice the shadows lurking in the dark, shaking with fear, or laughing maliciously. Every time she heard of things like this, it made her sick. So sick, that she actually threw up her food once, while her dad was yet again delivering more bad news that was the morning paper. What on earth had created such sick creatures? Such vile monsters?
But it also entertained her in a way nothing else could, filled her up with a burning curiosity. She felt like it was her job to destroy those masks, to bring the light to those dark places where the shadows reside. She felt like she was born to open the book, reveal the true secret behind the cover. Don't judge a book by its cover. Don't judge a book by its cover. Don't judge a book by its cover.
Maybe that's why she loved to read so much.
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She gave color codes to the cover of the books of those people that she's opened and read. Some were white and plain on the outside, completely boring and insignificant, until you pry it open and enter a whole new world that takes you on one hell of a roller coaster ride; some were dark and dirty on the outside, obviously neglected and ignored, left on the bookshelf to rot for eternity, but actually held a pretty decent plot once you actually bothered to open and read it; some were the worst books she's ever read, although they hired a pretty good artist for the cover; and some were just stained black, inside out. She was satisfied with her predictions, and only slightly surprised when she was them to be true.
Or maybe she was still young and ignorant.
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She even made herself into a book. A bright and yellow cover, vibrant and shining with life, her book just full of blank pages that were just waiting to be filled. That's who she made herself out to be.
Or maybe she was just flattering herself.
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When she first met her current-best-friend, Severus Snape, in that shirt that was definitely too big for him and with hair he obviously doesn't wash thoroughly, she gave him a dark blue cover, lonely, reserved, but also trying to take a step forward, to step out from the shadows that she found to have drowned the world. Over time, she started to fill in his book with things like 'distraught family- disfigured yellow page' and 'he seriously has to wash his hair- probably a secret between the lines'. She thought it was pretty accurate.
Or maybe she just wasn't seeing the full picture.
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When her sister practically disowned her when they both found out about her magic powers, it was the first time she had ever torn out pages from the 'book' she made her sister out to be- purple, a perfectly neutral color, but the inside was horrible, haggard, uncouth, disfigured, utterly destroyed. That was a spot-on description of her sister, that cow that called her a freak.
Or maybe she was just blinded by anger.
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It didn't matter who, it didn't matter when. She opened each and everyone's books like it was her goddamn duty and heaven forbid she leave out even a single one of them. She loved books, and she made everyone out to be one. She didn't find anything weird about it either. She was considered quite mature for her age, so things like this came naturally for her. And she prided herself for it, thank you very much.
Or maybe she just hasn't matured enough.
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Don't judge a book by its cover.
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Now, at eleven-years-old and soon to enter Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Lily Evans was practically bouncing up and down the walls with excitement she could barely contain, making a lot of things surrounding her hover in the air and hurl themselves towards unsuspecting bystanders (poor souls, really). She wondered what color the cover of Hogwarts' book would be like. Hearing everything from Sev wasn't enough; she wanted to see, with her own eyes, the glory that is the wizard world, the ambiance that shrouded that brilliant, brilliant world. That world was still hazy in her mind, foggy and unclear, and she was just itching to finally clear it up once and for all.
Would the cover of Hogwarts' book be a dark black, hiding secrets and small but significant things in between the lines like she always thought a magical world would; or maybe it was a glorious gold, basking in the glory and beauty it knows it has; maybe it was a bright red, one that screamed "danger, danger!" but at the same time screamed "explore me, explore me!".
She pondered on the subject as she walked around the nearby park, the one where she and Sev always met up. He was running a little late today, but she didn't really care, although a little impatient to hear more of the stories of the brilliant world he took pleasure in describing to her. She could recall each and every one of them with crystal clarity, reciting each and every one of them as she strolled around the park, watching the flowers with their vibrant colors. She admired the colors, watching each of them carefully, but her real interest piqued up when she saw a man sitting on a park bench, completely dressed in black.
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Don't judge a book by its cover.
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She supposed it was only fair to give his book a black cover, seeing as he practically wrapped himself in black like his life depended on it. The only thing that wasn't black was his pale white skin, standing out like a sore thumb. She would have thought him to be a vampire, if Sev hadn't told her before that vampires were under the strict watch of the Ministy of Magic's Department for Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures. So...just some really white albino ashamed of his pale skin?
She doubted it.
Suddenly the man turned to face her, as if he knew that she was watching him. Well, if wasn't as if she was doing a lot to hide herself, either. She waved meekly at the man, to show that she acknowledged he was there. The man shot her a smile in return.
And suddenly, she found herself walking forward.
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Don't judge a book by its cover.
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"Don't simply talk to strangers" was something she was warned frequently too, but her legs seemed to be ignoring what she was trying to tell them because really, the man practically screamed 'suspicious' and she should really avoid him at all cost, but she found herself unable to do that.
She wanted to study him. She wanted to read this man's special book.
Soon enough, she was standing right in front of the man, enabling her to take in every bit of his appearance. He looked around late thirties, early forties. He had jet black hair that fell neatly around his face, not too long and not too short. His skin was even paler than she imagined, but what really captured her was his eyes: a dark, ruby red, with cat-like slits for pupils. They held some sort of charm in them, enchanting her. Perhaps black was too plain of a color for the cover of his book.
He looked at her. "Lost, child?"
She shook her head.
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There are bad people out there who will act all nice to you, but all they want to do is to trick you.
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"Didn't your mother ever tell you to never talk to strangers?" he asked.
"I don't think you're a bad person, sir," she said.
The words slipped passed her mouth before she knew it, and that shocked her thoroughly because she always made it a point to "think before you speak", yet another life-lesson given by her parents. She honestly can't tell if he's a bad person or not. She couldn't just make assumptions with the little information she had gathered. So far she's only got the cover of his book. But his eyes... there's something about his eyes. She's sure of it.
She watched those eyes again.
"Oh?" he mused. "Then what kind of person do you think I am, young girl?"
He was asking for her opinion. He was asking her to talk again. He was asking her, as he eyes continued to bore into hers as hers never left his. Lily squared her shoulders.
"I think you're a man destined to do big things," she said with a matter-of-fact tone. "I think you will exceed everyone expectations, and shock the entire world. Everyone wants to be that person, but sir, I think you're someone who can."
There it was again. Words that weren't hers passed her lips and out into the open. And the whole time, she was watching his eyes. There was something about his eyes that had the power to make you say things you don't mean, and things you'd rather keep to yourself.
He gave her barely a ghost of a smile. "Really, child? And what will you do when I shock the world with my 'big things'?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, sir. I guess I'll think about that when the time comes. You know, sir, you have very strange eyes."
She hadn't meant to say that, either, but she had long given up on controlling her words, instead speaking on pure instinct. It didn't suit her, this talking style, and was glad that her conversation with this man with the manipulative eyes was only momentary. She didn't want to say something she'll regret.
"Strange eyes?"
"Yeah, like snakes."
Snakes. His eyes reminded her of a snake, with slits so small and sharp. Maybe his book was special, and the words should be printed in green.
"Snakes, really? You have a wild imagination." He raised his hand, with slender, pale fingers, and patted her head. "Maybe me and my snake-like eyes will meet you again someday, peculiar child, when I do big things. I look forward to our next meeting." He stood up, his black robe covering him like Dracula's cape, and gave her a tiny salute-of-sorts. "Till we meet again."
And with that, he walked away, not even giving her a chance to say goodbye.
She stared after him. Gray, she finalized. Gray will be the color of his book cover. A man who has a charming power to make you say words that aren't yours. A man who's skin is as pale as a ghost, but dressed as dark as night. A man who is filled with mystery. A man who will do big things. And with that, she walked back to she and Severus's meeting spot. A man with strange eyes whom I shall meet again.
She was quite happy and satisfied with that information, thinking that despite the insecurities and the many unanswered question marks that surrounded him, she managed to catch a lot of aspects about him that many probably wouldn't on first meeting. Maybe he wasn't a 'bad man'.
Or maybe she was still too naive to really see anything.
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One day, they will take away everything you have.
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Lord Voldemort felt her eyes on him as he walked further from the park and towards the nearest empty alley.
He left in good time, too- anymore extra time spent there and he might have killed that Muggleborn off on the spot, regardless of the consequences. He honestly admired her guts to just walk up to him, saying things like "You will do big things".
Of course he will do big things. He was born to do them, to "shock the world", as she had put it. He is the sole descendant of Salazar Slytherin, born to rid the world of waste and filth. But for now, he will have to bide his time. He will have to lay low, and strike when the time is right. He wouldn't mess up with this power he had been granted, to get rid of filth like her.
And he wasn't lying when he said that he was looking forward to their next meeting.
After all, their next meeting will be her last.
And he will make sure that his "strange eyes" will be the last thing she sees.
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Don't ever judge a book by its cover. Ever.
A/N: Don't. Even. Ask.
I don't even know where the hell I got this from. I've been having issues, sure, which I will rant about later, but I don't even know what the hell I typed out. This...this doesn't even make any sense.
But yeah, the main idea of the story is Lily tries to see through all the lies that people around her always say, but is unable to do that when she meets Voldemort (although she doesn't know it's him and even if she knew his name then, it wouldn't make an ounce of a difference to her) so settles with what she sees, completely forgetting the concept of don't judge a book by its cover. Meanwhile, Voldemort is slowly plotting her death.
I know that Voldemort might seem OOC in this, but he hadn't risen to power yet, and when he was young he was one manipulative bastard. It would be easy for him to lie, even if it was to a Muggleborn and he can't stand Muggleborns.
Lily might seem OOC. My excuse is that she's young, her mind is still unstable, but really, I've made Lily sound seriously weird here.
The next question might be: what the kcuf is Voldemort doing in a muggle park. I DON'T EVEN KNOW-
This story came about because recently, I had a situation with my wallet, and got into a little trouble. It definitely taught me to take 'don't judge a book by its cover' seriously.
So yeah, that's it. My writing has sort of gone haywire too, because I've been having trust issues. And friend issues. And other shit going on in my life.
So lessons learned today:
1) Don't judge a book by its cover. Seriously. Don't. Not even subconsciously.
2) Don't think you're all high and mighty and stick your nose where it's not wanted. Respect people's personal space. PLEASE.
3) Don't be too judgmental either. First impressions always suck 99.9 percent of the time.
4) Don't forget to leave a review. Reviews save lives. And relieves stress of authors. Unless they're flames of course.