Disclaimer: I only own Huxley. And I'm picturing Mrs. Potter as kind of French, but I'm not sure why.
Just Another Day
Chapter 1: One September Morning
One early September morning, James Potter was standing in front of his mirror, straightening his shirt.
"Hey, Lily," he said, into the mirror, enthusiastically.
"Hey… Lily…" this time in a low voice.
"Hola, Lily." The Potters had spent a week in Spain that summer, and James was desperately hoping that his command of the language would impress her. Unfortunately, this command of the Spanish language was "Hola", "Adios," and "Tengo hombre."
He turned, tried a different angle. "Hi-"
"James, dear!"
"MUM!" Mrs. Potter stuck her head around the door frame to see her son stick his hand in his hair.
"It's time to go." She pulled his hand out of the tangled black mass. "And don't do that."
"Dad does it."
"I know." She smiled. "I'm trying to break him of the habit."
"It won't work."
Mrs. Potter gave her son a hug. "I know that too. I'll miss you, James."
"Mother," he rolled his eyes and pulled away. "I'm seventeen. You've had seventeen years to hug me."
She laughed. "Last year you let me hug you for five seconds. This year it's down to three. What next, James?"
He looked at himself confidently in the mirror. "Next you'll be able to hug my girlfriend," but he couldn't help adding, I hope.
The same early September morning, Sirius was standing in front of his mirror. Primping.
"Should my hair be loose or a bit tamer for the first day," he asked, seemingly to himself.
"Why should I care?" came a morose voice from the corner.
Sirius turned. "Oh, Huxley, you should care because when I'm happy, other people are happy. Maybe if I was really really really happy, you might be a tad bit happy too."
"That would take a miracle," said Huxley. Huxley was a picture that Sirius had painted that summer when he was bored. He was done in the usual Sirius Black style: incredibly detailed, and yet it looked as though the artist had a whip at their heels. Everything had been drawn in quickly, and as a result of this, Huxley had ended up with a bit of a squashed head, a small unibrow, and one eye slightly bigger than the other. This made any creature confronted with Sirius' mirror on an every day basis extremely irritable.
The portrait sighed. "I'm just glad that I'll get rid of you for a little while."
Sirius looked shocked. "Get rid of me? Huxley, I'd never abandon you to the horrors of this home! You are a friend to me, a true Marauder, and Marauders never desert each other! You can't expect me to just leave!"
"Oh. I think I just felt for my heart speeding up. Do you think that's a sign of happiness?"
Sirius jumped up and down. "Huxley, I made you happy! I'm so excited! I've tried for months, and I finally succeeded."
"Calm down. It left as soon as you went into the, 'I'll never abandon you' spiel."
"Oh." Sirius looked disappointed. There's only one thing to do when you're disappointed, he thought, turning back to the mirror.
"Hey, Huxley, what about this shirt? Do you think the color makes the right statement?"
There was no noise from the painting. Then he heard, "Sirius, I'm going to try to commit suicide. I just thought you should know."
This news did not bother the seventeen year old case study of vanity. "Alright, Huxley. What about these pants?"
There was a crash. Then a moan. "You put a shatter-proof charm on this glass, didn't you?"
Sirius didn't hear him.
Yet again, at that same time, on that same September morning, Lily Evans was walking out the door, running over her mental checklist.
1. Wake up, 5:45. Don't want to be late. Check
2. Take a nice long shower to finish said waking up process. Leave no hot water for Petunia. Check
3. Finish packing my trunk. Check. (Actually, there was nothing else to pack as she'd packed it all the night before).
4. Get a book or two to read on the train. Check.
5. Make sure it's Austen. Check
6. Eat breakfast. Check.
7. Wait patiently for mum at the car. In progress
8. Try not to do anything stupid. Check. So far.
Alright, tell me if you want more