Author note and small summary at the bottom. (So you can actually enjoy the story first!)

Prologue

It was either the best or the worst summer of my life, but it inarguably remains the most memorable. I was young, naïve, and innocent, and nothing could touch me. I was invincible, carried up by the wings of magic, and the winds of adolescence. I was happy. I was free. I flew through life without caring; I had everything I ever wanted—magic, best friends, and a happy home, minus the petty arguments with my sister. Life was good, and I was satisfied. Too satisfied.

Some say that being too comfortable with the status quo only invites change. Well, no one ever told me that. I never accepted that things must change, and we, as a family, dealt with change horribly, we, the Evans. It must be a part of our genetic make-up; change just did not agree with us. We embraced tradition and routine; we were the apple-pie-tea-and-crumpets family. We were undeniably boring, but only to those who did not know us, and our lack of affinity for change and variety led us to maintain a fifteen years of summer vacations at Belle Reve. That summer, however, was the last vacation we shared there together as a family.

Belle Reve was our summer vacation home on a tiny island off the coast of Spain. It was a quaint cabin, of pine and roomy sorts, placed in the most beautiful location, at the tip of the island, on a tiny peninsula that served as our sandy backyard. Petunia and I used to wake up early to watch the sunrise from the east, and then the sunset from the west from the same spot because our location allowed us to see the glowing sun rise and fall from and into the ocean.

We rented Belle Reve for the first few years, not having named it Belle Reve until later, until after Father decided to purchase it, because of our numerous excursions there. Mother was the one who chose the name Belle Reve, after a muggle play she loved. I never quite understood the meaning of the name, not having read Streetcar until after I graduated out of Hogwarts, and even today, I fail to understand why she chose it. Perhaps it had to do with tradition, and aristocracy, or perhaps my mother just loved the name. Regardless, Belle Reve eventually came to represent not only the cabin, but also the beach, the forest, and the memories of childhood. It lived up to its meaning, a "beautiful dream," because that was what everything ultimately became, a beautiful dream of simpler times.

This is the first time I have been back to Belle Reve in years, back to this beach, back to this cabin, back to these memories. Sometimes, I try to forget that summer because it was too painful, but I always end up telling myself to look at things as how they are and take from them what I can. It is still hard though, and I believe it will always be hard, to sit in the sand and watch the turquoise waters lap the shoreline. Like waves crashing on the rocks, the memories collide behind my eyes. It is unavoidable, and I almost wish I did not let James convince me to come back.

"Just for old times' sake," he had said, with that cocky grin that I have come to love. James. James was what made that summer worthwhile. He was the solitary star in those bleak two months. He was there, and he knew. He understood, and he comforted. He became my rock, an unexpected, and initially unwanted, pillar to hold to. James and I changed that summer. Our relationship changed. I lost something, and I gained something that summer. I gained James.

James planned this vacation for us, warning me well ahead of time, and defeating my protests. He wants himself and I to grasp some appreciation of this place before our wedding; this was where we started, through the pains and hurt, and this is where we must return to, for a little while at least. But I secretly believe he wants me to find some closure, though he would never own up to that. We never talk about what happened that summer, not what happened to family. But James knows me too well, and he knows that deep down, I really do need this, despite my ever-present objections. If I can't talk about that summer, I must to relive it, day by day, piece by piece.

And so I sit barefoot on the beach and close my eyes, willing the presence of the profound silence into ponderings of the past. The salty air will do me good, I think to myself before letting go. I let guards down and flow with it. I let the tide carry me away, back to prior years, back to revisit those memories. I am ready, and I am strong, because I know that though the tide will carry me away, it will always flow back, and I am safe in its embrace.

:break:

I am beginning this as a somewhat lengthy story I think. I was at the beach this afternoon, and I have been toying with the idea for this story, and everything just kind of fit together today. I have a basic idea of where I want this to go, plot-wise, but as for minor details and character and everything else, I'm going with the flow. I'm thinking "the flow" won't be contradictory. heh.

So I'm guessing you would like a summary, because this is just the prologue, and it leaves a lot up to question. This beginning is basically Lily reminicing about the past, and giving background details as to the setting and how she feels about what took place "that summer." This story is going to span a summer, the summer between Lily and James' sixth and seventh year, at a beach vacation home. Lily and James are going to have to live with each other's idiosyncrasies, and being that this is a romance story, they will fall in love, and you know...everything else that we know already. Don't be mistaken though, this is not going to be a fluffy cute story. There are themes in here that are not going to correspond with any type of happiness whatsoever (if you couldn't tell from what you just read...). What I am most looking to do, by the end of this story, however long it may take, is to show some kind of change in the characters. A shift of sorts. Not quite sure what, because like I've already said, I'm going with the flow. :)

Commenting would be really awesome, seeing as I am pretty much an amateur writer. Hopefully, my style will develop this story progresses, and your concrit would be so very cool. But don't worry, I won't be one of those who will refuse to update until I reach a certain quota of reviews. haha.

Sorry this was so long; I wanted an adequate introduction for you guys as to what to expect.