A totally random one-shot that came to me while I was procrasinating on writing that new chapter of Aftermath.

A look into the insane mind of Lily Evans.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the idea

Conversations with the Giant Squid

Here I was, sitting by the lakeside, basking in the May sun- a perfectly normal display. Because I, Lily Evans, am a perfectly normal 16 year old girl. And coming outside to dangle your toes in the warm water was a perfectly normal thing for a perfectly normal 16 year old girl to do.

As long as you don't notice me muttering to the surface of said water.

Now that would not be a perfectly normal thing for a perfectly normal 16 year old girl to do.

Not that I was perfectly normal or anything. I was just Lily Marie Evans, prefect and sixth year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I enjoy many normal things, such as triple fudge ice cream, pillow fights, dancing in the rain, and puppies. I would also enjoy long, romantic walks on the beach, if only my skin wouldn't go all blotchy and burn due to my red hair and out-of-wack skin cells.

Damn my red hair and out-of-wack skin cells.

Did you know it's like, physically impossible for red-haired people to get a tan? I could spend hours by this lake and still look as if I've been locked in a closet my whole like. Sure, my hair maybe be lovely and rare- but is it really worth it?

Anyways, back to me defending my sanity- because talking to water is a totally normal behavior, if you have something to talk to.

And there is quite a bit to converse with. Litter floats by often, and when was the last time you had a heart-to-heart with a butterbeer bottle. It's very uplifting, not that I've done it of course. Sometimes if your lucky, a duck might even swim towards you in hope of finding leftovers from that days breakfast. But they usually leave when they discover that you don't in fact have any leftovers from that days breakfast. Bloody traitors. Not to mention there's zillions of water molecules about, but if you try to talk to just one, the others might get jealous. So I'm hesitant to attempt this. But mostly in the lake, there's the giant squid.

Yes, a real giant squid, and not a figment of my imagination. Though it might be, but I'm pretty sure other people can see it too. And I've read this fact many times in Hogwarts: A History.

Fascinating book, by the way.

So yeah, I may mutter to trash and ducks, but mainly I mutter to my friend, the squid. We're really very close. I think it drifts closer to shore when I came to complain, and that's trust there. And since calling something "it" proves to be rather rude, I have taken to calling my squid Francine, because It fits he/she so well.

Maybe if I'm lucky people might just think I have an imaginary friend and leave me be. Those are still considered normal at my age, right?

Yes, I believe they are.

I bet your wondering by a normal girl, like me, comes to talk with a squid in her spare time. And I bet your jumping to conclusions about my mental state of mind as well, but don't judge me! I'm simply helping Francine get through a difficult stage in her/his life.

Or do I have that backwards, because being a teenager may be harder than being a squid- but I'm in no place to judge.

Unlike some people… And if you can't tell, I'm glaring. No, I'm not glaring, I'm glowering.

GLOWERING, you hear? I do have red hair, and I also have the stero-typed red head temper. It goes hand in hand with the out-of-wack skin cells.

I also know a bit of Kung Fu.

So I'm a teenager, therefore I have mass amounts of bottled up teenage angst, therefore I like to complain.

I could whine to my friends, but that might result in the losing of those friends. So I come here to whine instead, because Francine couldn't tell me even if he/she was annoyed by well. Well, it could always drag me into the murky depths of the water, but it hasn't yet- so I'll assume it likes me.

What do I have to complain about, you ask? Quite a lot of things actually. I'm not just the pretty, study-happy prefect. Oh no! I'm also in the Charms Club, but besides that there is a darkness within me no one knows.

Maybe I got a low mark in Transfiguration, or maybe the toast wasn't up-to-snuff that morning. I could be plotting to castrate the next male that hits on me.

And that first year at the beech tree is starting to look pretty fishy to me.

But currently, I'm grumbling about those who call themselves, the Marauders.

They happen to be the most grumble-worthy of my topics, even the toast.

The Marauders consist of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter. They like to prank and cause mayhem, and on top of it all James seems to like me.

But I could just be misinterpreting his pleading for a date.

Every day since my fifth year, James has asked me to go out with him. And every day since my fifth year, I have rejected and insulted him, maybe even slapped him if I was PMSing that day. Discluding the summer holidays- then a howler would do just fine.

I'm not saying I hate this James fellow. I'm sure he's very sweet once you get past his large ego, love to torment Slytherins, pride, disrespect for rules, obsession with Quidditch, and everything else about him.

The lilies on Valentines Day were an incredibly thoughtful gesture after all. If only I wasn't allergic.

Stuck in the hospital wing when you should be eating those addicting candy hearts is not the ideal way to spend Singles-Awareness Day.

Right now, I'm ranting to Francine about how he slipped a ring into my morning pumpkin juice. I could have died! And then Hogwarts would have a nasty lawsuit on their hands. But luckily, my dear friend Marlene McKinnon noticed the shiny glint in my goblet and pointed it out. Thus death and lawsuit were avoided.

Francine just flopped a tentacle over in response.

But still, despite my anger at him (and I did cause quite a scene in the Great Hall), I slipped the ring into the pocket of my robe. I had every intention of chucking it in the water during today's weekly squid session, but now I just can't!

Which leads me to believe I may be possessed. See what I mean about that darkness within? I should start wearing dark eyeliner and lots of black to match my emotions. But I don';t want to be considered weird or anything.

Bloody Marauders, bloody James, bloody everything.

I'm almost positive that group over yonder is observing me. Either I have a fan-club, or they're growing suspicious of my actions.

What's there to be suspicious of a perfectly normal 16 year old girl spending some time by the gorgeous Hogwarts lake? I happen to see numerous groups of people chatting on the water's edge. One is even tossing old bread out to Francine.

Idiots. He/She's not a pigeon. Squids don't enjoy moldy bread, and with good reason. I can't imagine it tasting too nicely. Plus, it's making my squid drift further and further away towards the other bank.

Bloody idiots, bloody moldy bread, bloody normality.

How am I supposed to talk to the squid, if it's not even around to listen? Now I'll just be classified as that ginger girl who likes to argue with herself.

Or maybe I'll be the crazed carrot-top.

Albino freckled person?

There are just too many crude nicknames for the red heads of the world. So what if we're pale, have freckles, and our hard is more orange than read. I don't hear anyone calling blondes "lemon heads."

Those are some damn addicted muggle candies.

I'm getting off topic, though.

I need to complain about James Potter, but have no squid to complain too! Francine is all the way on the other side of the bank. If I strain my eyes hard enough, I can make out a solitary figure sitting there.

I bet they bribed my poor Francine. Bribery and Blackmail, maybe even piracy. The fiends.

But since when has Hogwarts had a band of pirates who threaten squids?

They sky is gaining it's familiar purple tint, meaning Saturday is slowly beginning to end. Meaning tomorrow will provide new ways for James to "woo" me.

I can hardly wait.

That was sarcasm, by the way. I could very much wait, because I am not looking forward to his possibly deadly plots.

But why am I just sitting here while Francine is being tormented? Am I one of those sick people who enjoy squid-tormenting? I think not.

I must rescue Francine and push the culprit to their death!

Okay, maybe not death. My plans for the future do not include going to Azkaban and having my soul sucked out.

I can't figure out which is worse- losing your soul or the fact you have to snog a dementor to do it. They don't exactly look attractive.

Great, now my dementor rant made my forget why I'm angrily stomping to another side of the like. I really hate it when I get off topic. I'm just here, standing akimbo, many yards behind someone I'm too busy glaring at to notice.

But I see that familiar tentacle splash and remember the blackmail, bribery, piracy, and plots for almost murder.

More muttering, but amazingly not by me. A few moments later I Comprehend that said someone is doing said muttering.

"I just don't get it."

The muttering becomes more a muffled talking, as the someone has their head buried in their hands. I always thought pirates were supposed to be angry and say "arg" a lot.

Francine actually seemed to be listening to him, too. The two-timer.

"I try so hard."

So what if I'm eavesdropping? This is juicy stuff! I'm surprised more people don't spy on me while I ramble, unless they really do…

So aren't I the real victim here?

The someone lifts their head, and stares at the water. Even through the dimming light I can see the messy black hair, and I'm sure if he was looking this way I would see hazel.

Of all people to be insane, James Potter? Besides the fact he likes me, I've always thought him to me the normal type.

Just proves, you shouldn't judge people.

"I just love her so much, you know?"

Now this was making it almost indecent to spy. I'm sure James wouldn't appreciate it.

Oh well, now I'm intrigued. I'm going to choose to be oblivious to his real feelings for me and act like I don't know who he's talking about. So who could he be referring too? I know he's convinced I'm :the one", but he can't be that serious.

Or Sirius.

Oh Gods, I should avada-kedavra myself now.

"I thought the ring was perfect, too."

Even I can put two-and-two together. He "loves" this girl he gave a ring to, and he gave me a ring.

Now I really question his mentality.

"But I won't give up."

Wow, he almost sounds determined. Makes me want to run up and hug him. Pity he stole my squid.

"I'll just have to ask her out again tomorrow."

Reaching into my pocket, I finger the delicate emerald ring, that was so lovingly placed in my pumpkin juice this morning.

"I'll get my Lily someday, you'll see."

And somehow, the though of tomorrow began to look brighter in my twisted mind.

I would have to tell Francine all of this later- but now I have a squid-stealer to go hug and thank for a certain ring.

I actually really like this story. Soooo..

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