An Extended Lesson in Life and Vocabulary
Chapter One: Recapitulate
A/N: Ooops. I probably shouldn't be writing this right now...nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: everything recognized and generally known belongs to JK Rowling.
"Sticks and stones can break my bones, but names will never hurt me," someone once said. That someone was a jackass. Unless you're Adam or Eve, your entire existence is focused on names and words. Names of people, places, things, spells, potions, charms, important dates in history, titles of books to study from, and everything else.
Names are especially important to those who document them.
Good students depend on names to get good grades.
Good journalists depend on names to write and report a good story.
And to the people who aren't good? Well, to them, apparently, words are more important on the tiers of hierarchy than names are.
"You-Know-Who," people whisper now. In essence, they're still naming him, just not in the most technical sense of the word.
I suppose that if you were to look up Voldemort in the dictionary, you'd find one of those irritating little notes redirecting you to under the word redoubtable.
Redoubtable (rid au te bel) (adjective): inspiring fear or awe; illustrious, eminent.
Because really, all words have two meanings. Voldemort (used here as a synonym of redoubtable) is meant to cause fear and awe in those still brave enough to use it.
It really depends on who is saying the word, and who they're saying it to, doesn't it?
I'm Lily Evans. That's a name, not a word made to inspire fear or awe.
As a last ditch attempt to make up for ruining my summer by making me spend it with Petunia and her new husband, my parents gave me this journal.
It was a thoughtful gift, really. Marlene and Alice, don't think so, but neither of them have the unfortunate tendency to write notes and rants on every scrap piece of parchment and every visible part of skin that can be reached with a quill when no parchment is at the ready.
I suspect that I'll be keeping this notebook for a while, so I may as well give the general idea as to who and what I am, so that when I'm ninety-four years old and have Alzheimer's or forty-seven years old and going through an identity crisis, I'll be able to get an inkling of an idea of who I am by reading this journal.
As I've already said (or rather, written) my name is Lily Evans. Lily Jennifer Evans, to be exact. A gross combination, no? Anyways, as of this moment in time (September 1st, 9:47pm, in my bed) I am seventeen years of age and I am beginning my seventh and final year as a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Oh yeah, and I've been made Head Girl. Who would have thought?
I'm muggleborn (i.e. the only person in my family lucky enough to have magical capabilities), and I am in no way afraid of Voldemort.
More about him later though, if I'm in the mood.
My parents are Christine and Rodger Evans. I have an evil twat for a sister, who has just recently become Petunia Dursely.
Biggest shock of my life-finding out Petunia was engaged.
Second biggest shock of my life-finding out that Petunia had made me her Maid of Honor. That was only second biggest because I was hardly surprised to find that Petunia didn't have any friends close enough that she could dump the position onto.
My two best friends are Marlene McKinnon and Alice Prewett. Marlene has light chestnut hair, with the biggest brown eyes. She also has the darkest, thickest, prettiest eyelashes that I have seen thus far in my life. Alice has sandy blond-brown hair, and cheery hazel eyes. She's taller than both me and Marlene, but not by much.
All three of us were placed into Gryffindor House at the tender age of eleven, when our minds were still deluded enough to believe that it was lucky we'd been placed in the best house there was.
Don't get me wrong, it is the best house, but there's one scar on it's otherwise flawless reputation-the Marauders are here.
And, of course, we're lucky enough to be in the same year as them. At least it's not just the seven of us making up the seventh year Gryffindors (I might've gone crazy by now if that were the case). Alice, Marlene, and I room with four other girls-Dorcas, Mary, Lena, and Finna. And inhabiting the same dormitory as the Marauders are Frank and Leopold.
I guess I should clarify my views on the Marauders-Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and James Potter (the reincarnate of Satan himself). All four deserve to be in Gryffindor-unimaginably brave and intensely loyal to their house and to each other. They wouldn't have been so much of a problem had they not taken such a personal interest in Marlene and I. Oh, and if they'd had even a sliver of modesty, that certainly wouldn't have been bad either.
You see, ever since fourth year, Remus Lupin has had a crush on Marlene. And Remus Lupin is generally a very quiet being. However, his friends are not. James and Sirius would write extravagant love letters and, saying they were from Remus, would send them to Marlene. They would send her bouquets of roses and daffodils (which she's allergic to, by the way). And eventually, when Marlene politely but gently turned Remus down, they sent her a howler.
It was then that James Potter took notice of me. After Marlene had dissolved into tears after receiving the howler at breakfast one day during our fifth year, I was through with ignoring the Marauders.
I marched up to James Potter, my red face nearly blending in with my hair and my nostrils dangerously flared. I spent at least five minutes (if not more) yelling at the Marauders. Remus was embarrassed and Peter cowered away from me, while James and Sirius smirked obnoxiously, which only served to make me angrier.
So you can imagine my extraordinary shock when I took a pause in my tirade, only to have James ask me out.
So that's when it started. I was (and still am) the most outwardly violent towards the Marauders out of Marlene, Alice, and I, but the Marauders have an effect on all of us. Especially since James refuses to cease his pursue of me.
I don't hate James, of course.
Hate (verb/noun): intense dislike, or extreme aversion or hostility.
That's not the case at all. I feel embarrassed by James-and I feel embarrassed for him. He comes from a very politically conscious and wealthy family, who probably would have been of noble blood had we been living in medieval times. By publicly making a spectacle of himself time after time, he's putting his family's good name to shame. Also, it wouldn't be appropriate for James to be with a muggleborn. Yes, his parents were in Gryffindor and are fully behind Dumbledore in his war against Voldemort, and yes, they do support pure blood-muggleborn intermarriage. However, this view seems only to apply when the situation does not involve their only son. Really, I'm not only looking out for myself here.
I know James is a good person, I do. I just also know that any real relationship between us would be doomed to fail before it even began.
History of Magic Class, September 2nd:
M: Why are we still taking this class?
A: Are you kidding?! We're studying Grindewald this year. That's the best part!
L: Wow even I don't want to be here.
Well that's only because you read an entire tome on the Grindewald era that you got for Christmas last year.
Not true!
It's not?
No. It was two Christmases ago, not last Christmas.
You, my darling Head Girl, need a life.
I know. And that's why I've made some much needed New Year's Resolutions!
Lily, it's four months until the New Year.
New school year, silly. Resolution #1: Become a rebel.
And how are you going to achieve that?
By talking to James Potter.
You have to talk to him. He's Head Boy, and you're Head Girl. You practically live with the man!
Okay, multiple things wrong there. 1: James Potter is not a man, he is a stunted pre-pubescent imitation of a teenager.
You wish he was.
ANYWAYS, 2: We don't live together. I'm still in the dorm with you guys!
Yeah, but you have the option of the Head Dorms.
Which you're an idiot for not using, by the way.
And 3: I know it's easy to achieve. That's why it's on my list.
That's not on your list. Becoming a rebel is.
Whatever. In my book, they're the same thing. And this is my book.
And you're very nice for letting us pass notes in it. What else is on your list?
Er…nothing.
You overachiever, you.
Potions Class, September 2nd:
Why does Professor Slughorn delight in torturing me?
JP: You're his favorite student. He only wants for you to be with the most handsomest guy out there.
L: Hey! My notebook! You're writing in my journal!
Oh, give me a break. You've barely written anything in here. I sincerely doubt that you've written anything highly secretive and important in the first three pages of your diary.
Journal.
Whatever floats your boat, love.
Don't call me love. And how do you know that I haven't written my deepest, darkest secrets on some random page in the middle?
You wouldn't do that. You'd get all freaked out that the entries weren't in chronological order, and rip the page out or something equally drastic.
…
Oh, stop scowling. You know I'm right.
I will never admit anything of the sort to you.
Lily, why aren't we friends?
Because you keep leaning over and pretending to copy my potions notes when you're really just trying to get a good view of my cleavage.
Oh, er…I didn't realize that you knew what I was doing.
I'll just pretend that you didn't just admit to it. Anyways, as I was trying to comprehend before all of this, why does Professor Slughorn hate me?
Now really, Lily, I don't think that being potions partners is all that bad.
(two minutes later)
I'll be your friend if you stop getting me in trouble.
Deal.
I did go up and check out the Head Dorm Rooms, after dinner was completed. I must admit, I may be ditching Marlene and Alice a bit more often now that I know what exactly they're missing out on.
After, I decided to go back to my friends in the Gryffindor Common Room, even though it was much better at the Head's Rooms. I scouted out Marlene and Alice, and discussed with them the Potions Class episode. The conversation went something like this:
Me: "Part one of me becoming a rebel: achieved."
Marlene: snorts "What, did you acknowledge Potter with a 'hello, twat' as he became your potions partner?"
Me: is offended "Actually, no. I agreed to be his friend."
Alice: "Let's make bets on how long that lasts."
Marlene: "I say three days, tops."
Me: "Hey! Do you not have faith in me? Becoming a rebel is of utmost importance now. And it can only be achieved through becoming friends with the rebel master himself."
Alice: "Oh sure, definitely. And have you talked to him about this rebel business yet?"
Me: "Er…"
Marlene: "Funny how Lily chooses to become a rebel only after becoming an authoritative figure, isn't it?"
Me: "Go die alone in a hole where you can't sit down."
(end conversation)
I'm slightly miffed, to say the least. The world has no confidence in my mission! Was James Bond ever alone? I don't think so. He always had at least one whore girl-excuse me, sidekick to support him.
Where are my loyal model-esque damsels in distress? Or, at the very least, loyal pooch?
And what is it about men named James, anyways?
Screw them. It's all about Lily now.
September 3rd:
First Death Eater attack of the year happened today. Two Hufflepuff girls were sent home-or to what's left of it.
Torpid (tor pid) adjective: inactive, sluggish, dull.
That's how I feel right now. But a rebel shouldn't be that way, right? We should feel energetic, dynamic, vigorous.
I feel sick right now. Isn't that what Voldemort is? A rebel-not agains petty school and teacher constraints, but as a community and way of life as a whole.
Are all rebels bad, really? I certainly don't want to annihilate anyone, much less muggleborns. But James Potter, he's not all bad-
"I'm not all bad, eh? That certainly negates everything you've ever said to me. Though you are becoming a rebel, so maybe you're in the right mindset…" James raises his eyebrows at me as I slam my journal shut and flush an odd red color.
I scowl at him, trying to regain my sense of dignity. "You're not all bad, compared to Voldemort. Was there something you needed…?"
"Well Marlene told me to come over and talk to you, so I did. Not that I needed much urging," James tells me. I turn in my seat t glare across the common room at Marlene, who smirks as she feels my heated gaze on her. I turn back to James.
"And?" I prompt, sensing that there's more that he wants to say.
"Do you want to start now?" he asks, cerulean eyes bright and sparkling behind his glasses.
I stare at him. "Pardon me?"
"Do you want to start being a rebel now?"
I continue to gaze at my new 'friend'. "Tomorrow," I say, and that sounds all right. What's a little procrastination now and then?
He grins a slow grin, one that would have been used seductively by anyone but him. Nonetheless, I can feel a shiver sliding up and down my spine, though my cheeks have once again become warm.
"It's a deal," he promises me again.
That makes me wonder…does James Potter ever break his promises?
-incompetent.twitch
by the way, recapitulate: to review a series of facts; to sum up
review, perhaps?