Year Six-

Chapter 1: September 1, 1776

"LILY!" shouted a female voice, my lovely early-riser mother. "GET UP! YOU HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL!"

I groaned. Is it too much to ask for sleep privileges until AT LEAST 12:00pm? I rolled over onto my side and, though I didn't want to open my eyes, glanced up at my digital alarm clock. A bright green 7:30 bore up at me and I groaned into my pillow. Sixteen-year old girls aren't supposed to wake up this early...

"LILY! DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE!"

"FINE!" I screeched back, my voice was still drowsy from sleep. Though every fiber of my being didn't want my to move, I rolled over, grabbed a towel, and made my way to the shower. Luckily, Petunia is away for an early breakfast with Vernon, her boyfriend, so I get the shower all to myself. I turned on the water faucet, ready to take a long, luxurious shower.

Of course, since nothing ever goes my way, the doorbell rang just at the moment I was going to hop in the warm water. My mom was in the backyard, weeding her garden, so I took the courtesy of answering the door. That's right. I am just that nice.

Pulling on my robe, I stumbled down the stairs, still drowsy from sleep. I opened the door a slight crevice, hoping to catch a glimpse of who interrupted what could have been my luxurious shower. However, I was shocked when as I turned the doorknob, it was pushed open and my guest stood there. Who might that guest be? Take a wild guess.

"What do you think you are doing here?" I shouted, my eyes alight with fire. All the memories flowing back to me, but one particular one that made the anger come.

"You need to stop ignoring me." He said in his expressionless voice.

"That gives you no right to barge into my house." I said, trying to keep my temper under control.

"Sure it does. I've done it before."

"When we were friends."

"We still are."

Murder… is bad. Murder equals Azkaban, Lily. Don't murder. Instead, I simply say, "Sorry you think that. But here is a newsflash, you lost that title with me." With that, I shoved him out my door, slammed it in his face, not letting him get a word in edgewise.

I stormed up my staircase, slammed the bathroom door, tore off my robe, and jumped into the shower. How could Snape honestly believe we are still friends? After what he did to me? I groaned in frustration only one other person could evoke emotion that deep from me- He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No, not Voldemort… James bighead Potter.

So then, my thoughts turned to Potter. He was so cruel and selfish and— doorbell? Guess I don't get my luxurious shower after all… eh, at least I'm clean…

I quickly dried off and slipped on my jean capris and white tank top. Whoever was at the door, was very anxious to get in. They hadn't stopped pushing the doorbell since they started. It was rather annoying actually. Practically stumbling down the stairs in haste to get to the door, I yanked the door open, and found my blonde cousin, Ariella standing there. Well, she was actually kind of doing a bunny hop thing.

She ran into my house and yelled, "Lily! He-". She stopped mid-sentence, seeing my mother's startled face, as she walked through the back door. "Oh, er- hey, Aunt Grace," she mumbled.

"Hello, Ariella, dear. Is everything ok? Boy troubles again?"

"If you can call it that." Ariella mumbled. "Um, if I could just talk to Lily for a second, that would be great."

"Oh, um, alright dear, but please-"

Without hearing another word, Ariella grabbed my wrist and yanked me up the stairs into my room. "Lock it," she commanded.

"You know, this is my house," I told her, but I complied with her command.

I waited for her to tell me why she came to my house, but she kept silent. "Well?" I asked. "What's up? What did Jake do?"

"This isn't about my boyfriend," she snapped. "Unless you are trying to tell me I am dating Voldemort."

"What?"

"Voldemort found us again, Lilliana! Don't you see? Dumbledore's spells stopped working!" She was growing hysterical, now. Her bright blue eyes were shining with the same fear we've had since we were five years old.

"How- how do you know?" I whispered, barely audible.

"My wrist. It was hurting again. He was talking to me."

I was about to let out a soft "Oh" when it happened again. All I felt was a searing pain on my wrist, then it spreading to the rest of my body. I then hit my head on the table. I was then encumbered with black darkness.