I call upon Calliope, muse of epic tales, daughter of Zeus and Mnemosyne, to aid me in my quest. I aim to divulge a story so grand, so legendary in stature that nothing shall ever rival it again. And with Calliope by my side, guiding my quill in the right direction, then will I be able to weave this dark tale.

It all began many years ago, deep within Godric's Hollow-

"Lucy!"

I jumped, my head snapping back as my arms instinctively reached out to cover my work. As my heart sped up, I turned, looking into the eyes of my younger cousin. "Merlin, Lily. What are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Mum and Dad brought us today," she said, peering up at me through her wide, eleven year old eyes. "I thought you knew we were coming."

"Oh, right. I think Molly might have mentioned something about that last night," I said, taking in a deep breath to try and calm down. She took a step closer to me, quickly glancing down at the parchment I was so desperate to cover. Swallowing, I spoke up. I needed to distract her... "It's such a nice day, Lily. Why don't you go outside?"

But her brown eyes just glimmered as she gave me a smile. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the page.

Fear overcame me; I had to force it down. Not yet, I silently pleaded. No one could know yet... "Nothing."

"That's not true," Lily said with a small chuckle. "You're hiding it from me. That means it's something."

"No, it doesn't," I said weakly.

"Lucy," she said, raising an eyebrow at me. "You forget; I have two older brothers. I know by now when someone is lying."

"Well aren't you just an astute little girl," I muttered.

She made a face. "Oh, please stop with the old people vocabulary. You sound exactly like Aunt Hermione, and I really can't take having two of you running around with your big words; I never understand what's going on! I'm only eleven."

"And you should do eleven year old things," I said, gathering the parchment together in my arms. "Go and play with James and Albus. Or say hi to Molly. I'm sure she'd love to see you."

"Molly's boring," the young girl protested. "All she wants to talk about are the falling cauldron bottom standards. I feel like I'm in school."

"Ah," I said, standing up. I started inching my way out of the room, being careful to keep the parchment I was writing on hidden. "You're not in school yet, Lily. But you will be soon. You should cherish these last few days of summer and freedom while they last, and go play with your brothers. Go on, be a kid."

"I'd rather spend time with you."

"I'll see you at Hogwarts," I said, reminding her. "I'm only a sixth year, you know."

"Oh yes," she said dryly. "We'll just be the best of friends, as we spend all of our time away from each other. Especially if I end up in Gryffindor."

I let out a small laugh. "What does that mean? Are you ashamed to be seen talking to a Ravenclaw like me?"

"No," she said. "But if you're in a different house than me, I won't be able to spend a lot of time with you."

"Yes," I said, holding up a finger. "However, we will see each other. Even if we can only spend time together during meals, we'll still hang out. But Molly? She won't be there with us. So you should really go and see her now."

"But-"

Her protests, however, fell on deaf eyes, because I was already out of the kitchen and scurrying off down the hallway.

I felt cruel, denying my cousin like that, but I couldn't help it. She was too close to me, too close to what may very well turn out to be my life's work... I just couldn't have that. I'll make it up to her, I thought. I don't know how, but I will. But for now...

I needed to get to work. I had so much to do, and so little time to do it in, so little time before my words became irrelevant...

You see, I was a writer. Ever since I was young, I'd read anything I could get my hands on, and as a consequence, the passion for writing began to blossom in my veins until I could no longer deny the inevitable: I'd been born a writer, and I would die a writer. Nothing would change that.

And so I embraced my love for literature over my magical talents, and decided to take on a rather daunting task. My goal in life, what I was striving towards, was not to write a complete history of Harry Potter, or even of Lord Voldemort. No, too many young witches had already jumped upon that bandwagon. Instead, I wished to recount the lives of Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter together in an epic poem.

Not exactly something you hear every day, I know.

Perhaps the unconventional nature of my secret desire was why I held it so close to my chest. The wizarding world wasn't ready for such literary creativity. To most people, such as my father, magic was all that mattered. But the power of the mind and the way words could be crafted? They never even considered it.

And so I hid my passion from those I loved, worrying about their scorn and laughter, and frightened that they'd judge me on my half-finished musings before I'd even fully etched out an outline for the poem. I couldn't let my dream die by revealing it too early.

And so I'd hide my passion. And I'd wait.

Of course, I'd have to wait even longer to display my talent than I'd anticipated, given that I never actually had any time to work on my epic poem. No sooner had I managed to escape from Lily to my room than Molly burst in. I jerked away from my desk in surprise, throwing an old sweater over my work as she raised an eyebrow. "Merlin, Lily was right. Stealthy you are not."

I scowled up at my sister, removing my sweater from the desk. Molly was the only person who knew of my dreams; it'd be near impossible to keep them from her, given that we'd shared a room for my entire life. "I thought you were bonding with Uncle Harry."

"He had to leave," Molly said, rolling her eyes. "That's why Lily, Albus, and James are here. Mum and Daddy are watching them while Uncle Harry runs some errands. Which, by the way, I already told you." She sat down with a plop on her own bed. "Honestly, Lucy. It's like you spend so much of your time with your nose in your books that you don't even register the world around you."

"That's not a bad thing!"

"Well I beg to differ," she said, smoothing her hands over her impeccably straight hair. "You'd do better to join the real world every now and then."

"I understand more about the real world than you think," I murmured, glancing down at the pages on my desk.

Molly frowned, following my gaze. "Oh, you aren't really going on about that rubbish again, are you? You can't write for a living, Lucy. It's a terrible job. They severely underpay you, and no one respects you. Unless you plan on being the next Rita Skeeter-"

"I have no desire to become the next Rita Skeeter," I protested. "I want to be the next Homer."

"Who?"

"Homer," I repeated. "Surely I've mentioned him before. He wrote an epic poem. You know, like I'm attempting to-"

"Lucy!" Molly groaned. "You can't do that! Daddy will never approve. Merlin, Daddy doesn't even approve of all of those muggle novels that Aunt Hermione keeps shoving down our throats-"

"Hey, I enjoy those muggle novels! Thomas Hardy, William Faulkner, James Joyce-"

"None of them matter," Molly interrupted. "None of them are infused with the wisdom of magic, so none of them matter."

"That's Dad's philosophy, not mine."

"Daddy has a point, though. No," Molly said, stopping me as I began to protest. "Listen. You are not a muggle. Understand? You don't do muggle things. I don't care how much you enjoy reading muggle novels; they aren't important in our society. Magic is what matters, understand? Magic." She sighed, crossing her legs. "Now if you really want to write, you can pen a textbook-"

"That's not the same-"

"But!" she interjected, forcing me to lapse into silence once more. "But you have to give up this nonsense about writing some great muggle story. That's not your place in this world. Daddy knows it, I know it, and you should know it too."

"But it wouldn't be a muggle story," I said, pleading with her. "It would detail the history of Lord Voldemort and Uncle Harry's struggle. It would go into the psychology of the two and the trials they faced and the magic they used... And best of all, it'd be told in beautiful verses."

"Lucy, someone has already written an entire textbook on the magic of the Lord Voldemort war."

"Yes! The magic, not the psychology and the philosophy. Besides, I've read it. It's a terrible bore," I said.

"You're just wasting your time, Lucy," Molly said with a shake of her head. "I'm sorry, but you are."

"Can't you just leave me to write in peace?"

"No," she said simply. "If I do, you might do something stupid like try and finish that poem of yours. I'd hate for you to waste your time. Really, Lucy. I'm helping you here."

"No, you're not," I said. But I fell silent. She wasn't going to change her mind. To her, my quest was ludicrous, and she was never going to allow me to find the time to write. I needed to be somewhere else, anywhere else where I would be completely at peace.

The first day of school could not come soon enough.

Three weeks later found me upon Platform 9 3/4, standing beside my father as I waited to board the train. Molly and Mum were both occupied at home, leaving my father as the only one left who could see me off.

"Now study hard, Lucy," he said, laying his hand on my shoulder. "You need top grades if you want to work at the Ministry. That's how your mum and I got to work there, that's how your sister got to work there, and that's how you'll do it too."

I sighed. How could I possibly tell him I wanted to be the writer of an epic poem and not a Ministry official? "Yes, father."

"We expect great things from you, Lucy. But we know you'll meet our expectations." He gave a small chuckle. "You always do."

"Yes, father."

"Don't be afraid to converse with your teachers. It's always better to have a strong rapport with them than no rapport at all; they can help get you hired, you know," he said, nodding his head.

"Of course, father."

"And you simply must stay out of trouble. The Ministry absolutely frowns on any rule-breaking - which makes sense, given that we write all of the laws - so if you want to be hired one day, you must-"

"Merlin, Percy! Do you really have to give Lucy that same speech every year?"

I turned with my father, facing away from the train as I shot a grateful smile towards my Uncle Ron. He stood grinning, one arm looped around Rose's shoulders, the other tucked into the crook of Aunt Hermione's arm. Hugo stood beside them, his eyes scanning the crowd, looking for something...

My father scowled. "You should know by now, Ronald, that excellence must be nurtured. I expect nothing but the best from my children."

"And that, Percy," Aunt Hermione said with a shake of her head, "is where our parenting styles differ." My father opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "Hugo," she said, addressing her son. "I think I see Lily. Isn't that her by the barrier?"

"Oh! Thank you, Mum! C'mon Rose," he said, before hurrying off through the crowd, his sister quickly following in his wake.

"Don't miss the train! And say good-bye before you leave!" she called out to them. She turned to face my father once more. "But really, Percy. How have you been? It's been ages since we've last spoken."

"Fine thank you," my father said somewhat stiffly. His apparent distaste for Aunt Hermione's lifestyle permeated through his cold tone. He didn't like that she spent half of her time in the muggle world and raised her children in a muggle way. "Though I'm afraid I have no time to catch up now. I'm only here to see little Lucy off, and then I must be going."

"Not so little now, though," Uncle Ron said, giving me a grin. "What are you now? A sixth year?"

"Yes. I'm starting my NEWT classes."

Uncle Ron gave a low whistle. "Good luck with those. I was always dreadful with them. Terribly hard, those classes."

"Oh, that's rubbish," Aunt Hermione said with a snort. "Don't you go putting ideas into her head! Lucy will be fine. She's a brilliant student. Takes after her father," she said, giving a small nod to Dad. He blinked, startled by the unexpected praise. "Tell me, Lucy. What classes are you taking this year?"

"Oh, uh, Potions, of course. And Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Ancient Runes," I answered, ticking them off one by one in my head.

"Really? Ancient Runes is such a fascinating subject," she said, before her brow furrowed. "Hang on. What about Muggle Studies?"

"Oh, no," I said, a faint blush raising in my cheeks. "I'm not taking that." I'd wanted to. Oh, how I'd wanted to. But I knew my father would never have approved. No, he wanted his family to be a strong Ministry family, and he would never have let me deviate from that path.

"Really? But why? You were always so interested in muggle culture!"

"Lucy has better things to do than waste time studying muggles," my father interjected.

"It's not a waste of time," Aunt Hermione said, her jaw tightening. "It's a culture that needs to be studied, experienced-"

"I agree with you completely," my father said. "It does. Wizards need to devote time to learning about muggles. It will help our society to grow. But my daughter doesn't need to be one of those people. She has bigger ambitions than that."

Oh, if only he knew...

"But what if that's what she wants?" she asked, figuratively reading my mind.

"Really, Hermione," my father said. "I know you and I don't ever see eye to eye. You still think of me as the naive teenager who abandoned his family in favor of ambition. I'm not that man, Hermione. Family comes first. I will always be there for my girls, and they know that. What they want does matter. However," he said, raising his voice. "Excellence is still of vital importance in this world, and I will do my best to make sure they reach that level. Lucy understands this. She wants to be excellent."

"But Lucy," Aunt Hermione said, turning to me. "You always loved reading those books I brought you, and writing short stories about them... Surely you must want to take this class?"

I did, I really did! But I couldn't say so. Not with my father here; he'd never forgive me for choosing muggle life as my field of study. I couldn't tell them; not yet. And so I swallowed. "Not really," I said, before taking a step back. Aunt Hermione's face fell, and I couldn't help but feel bad about lying to her.

"Oh," she said. "Well, I guess then-"

"Hey little Lucy!" I turned, relieved to be distracted from this unpleasant conversation. My fifth-year cousin James approached me, waving his arms frantically. "Come on," he called out. "We have to board the train."

"Coming," I called back, before automatically hugging my father. "I'll write you, okay?"

"Of course, Lucy," he said, giving me a small kiss on the top of my head. "See you at Christmas."

"Good-bye Uncle Ron. Aunt Hermione," I said, quickly hugging both of them.

"See you later, little Lucy."

"If you ever want to talk..." Aunt Hermione said, trailing off.

"Of course," I said, backing away from them and towards James. "Don't worry, though. I'll see you all at Christmas." I turned, hurrying away to catch up with James. As we moved quickly towards the train, I bit my lip. I'd managed to preserve my lie. I was safe; my father wouldn't know about my desire. It was all okay.

Yet in a way, I felt even more miserable than I already was. I shook my head as I climbed up onto the train, ashamed of my stupidity. I'd picked family loyalty over honesty. I was a liar. And I hated myself for it. "'Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,'" I muttered.

"What?" I heard James ask from behind me.

I answered without turning around. "It's from Hamlet," I said softly. "A play no one should know I've read."

"Merlin, if it isn't little Lucy!"

A twinge of annoyance crept over me as again I was interrupted, the entrance of another person ruining any chance I'd have of working on my epic poem. But then I saw who it was, and I let out a small laugh, standing up to give Lysander a hug. "Why does everyone keep calling me that?"

"I don't know," he said with a grin. "Though your short appearance might have something to do with it."

"Hey, be nice! I am a year older than you, you know."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, and you never let me forget it! Even though I'm twice your size," he teased.

"So where's Lorcan?"

"Dunno," Lysander said, giving a one-shouldered shrug. "I think he went looking for your cousin."

I raised an eyebrow. "Rose?"

"Dominique."

"Ah," I said with a small smile. "Of course he did. It had to be one of them, and who could resist the little blond vixen?"

Lysander raised an eyebrow. "Someone sounds awfully bitter. Tell me, did you really want to be the sixth-year vixen? Or are you just jealous that she has my brother's attention?"

"Neither, if you must know," I said, sitting back down again. "I'm just thankful that I won't have to spend any time living with her. That's the one blessing of being the sole Weasley to be sorted into Ravenclaw; no Dominique."

"Who knows? Maybe Hugo will join you this year."

"I doubt it," I said with a snort. "If Rose isn't a Ravenclaw, than there's no way Hugo will be one. His sister is a much bigger reader than Hugo ever could hope to be."

"Speaking of," Lysander began. "What muggle novel did you bring with you today? You always have an interesting one."

I hesitated a second before speaking. "None, actually."

He raised an eyebrow. "None? Well isn't that unusual. I don't think I can remember a single day in which I haven't come across you reading something muggle-written. So why am I now?"

"My father doesn't approve."

"Ah, and it suddenly makes sense! You want to live up to his expectations, don't you?" He let out a quick laugh. "Yes of course. Well that won't last, Lucy. You and I both know that you were always meant to work in the muggle field of magic."

"You can't know that."

"Maybe not," he admitted. "But I can guess. And I think you'd be bloody brilliant. Not to mention it'll make you happy, little Lucy. Just you wait. By the end of this year, you'll be telling Percy Weasley everything."

"It would break his heart," I protested.

"Maybe," he said simply. "But hiding who you are is breaking yours."

"And so begins another year!" Eleanor Corner said with a laugh. It was after the feast, after both Lily had been sorted into Gryffindor and Hugo had surprisingly found his way into Hufflepuff. Us four Ravenclaw girls were slowly unpacking our things. "This is going to be a wild year!"

"Yes," Tressa Ackly said. "Wild with work. We have to start preparing for NEWTs."

"Always the killjoy," Hannah Davis muttered.

"Really, now," Eleanor said, chucking a pillow at her. "Lighten up!"

I laughed with the rest of the girls, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "It's great to be back, though," I said with a sigh. "Here with you crazy lot." Hannah snorted as she reached for her shoes. "It feels like home."

"It does, doesn't it," Tressa said, leaning against the wall. "I always feel rather empty when I'm away from here. Like I'm missing my family, or something."

"I know what you mean," Hannah said with a yawn. "Family."

I smiled before scooting my way completely onto the bed. "I'm a little tired now," I said slowly, grabbing my wand from the table. "I think I'll just turn in."

"Already?" Eleanor said with a frown. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine," I assured her. "Just a bit tired. Don't worry about me. I'll just put up a silencing charm. You can all continue to carry on. But I'll talk to you all tomorrow."

"Of course," Hannah said with a grin. "We have a fair bit of catching up to do before classes start."

I laughed. "Most definitely. Good night."

"Night."

"Sleep well!"

"We'll talk tomorrow."

I closed the hangings around my bed, and quickly conjured a silencing charm and a light charm so the area above my bed inside the hangings was flooded with light. From beneath the sheets I pulled my poem out, and, quill in hand, I smiled down at my work.

Finally, I could write without being interrupted. Finally, I can work on my passion without any distractions. Finally, I could follow my heart without any guilt. This was where I was meant to be. This was perfection for me. This was my paradise.

For the first time in months, I felt at peace with who I was. I was Lucy Weasley, a witch, and I was a Ravenclaw student who would one day be a published author. No matter what, I'd fight to make my dream come true. Maybe I wasn't ready to tell my father the truth yet, but one day I would. One day, he'd know everything. I knew that once I returned home, I would be in hell again and never at peace with my work, but I put that thought out of my mind. Yes, life would be dismal again next summer, or even over winter break, but until then, I'd continue to live happily in my paradise.

Here, in this little corner of the world, away from the prying eyes of others, I could truly be myself. Here, I could do whatever it was that I wanted to do. Here, I could just be me. No one could judge me. No one could tell me that my dreams were wrong. No one could plan my future for me. I was in control here. And it felt amazing.

Smiling to myself, I brought my quill down to the parchment and began to write.

Hey everyone! So I've recently been playing around a lot with some of the NextGen characters, and I've come to realize that they can be a lot of fun to write! So here's my characterization of Lucy. She's a little different from most of her classmates, but I think, in a way, most of us on this site can relate to her. We all enjoy writing, and we all have someone in our life who thinks our hobby is a waste of time, or who we're scared to share this part of our life with. And I think looking at this from the magical perspective is kind of neat.

This was written for both the 'Paradise' competition and the Shakespeare Quotes Competition over at the HPFCF thread.

If you enjoyed this, then check out my rather humorous look into the relationship between Draco and Astoria, entitled Baggage and tell me what you think!

You could also look at my characterization of Hermione further and read my short oneshot As Memory Serves.

In addition to that, check out my rather adorable oneshot Ten Sickles. It's listed as Lily/Regulus, but there's a twist... And (as a bonus), it recently won second place in the Will You Be My Valentine competition! So check it out!

Thank you so much to everyone who will review! I really appreciated it!

Lurve,

Selene