[Insert Title Here]

By Lydia Rowe.

Chapter one.

Getting ready for school again.

I woke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed, as I felt a splash of cold water drench my face. I screamed furiously while my brothers laughed like Hyena and high fived each other.

"JAMES! ALB! GET THE HELL OUT!" What was the point in a lock on my door when my brothers were old enough to unlock it magically?
They scattered in fear at the sight of me grabbing my wand from the bedside table. I tore back the sheets and thundered out into the hall, whipping my head back and forth, looking for them. I watched them both run down the stairs two steps at a time and split off into different rooms at the bottom. I raced after them. James was obviously the mastermind behind the operation, but I didn't really fancy taking on a seventh year. Albus is still older than me, but not by much so I was pretty sure he's be easier to jinx.

I was so busy trying to remember the bat bogey hex that, as I thundered to the bottom landing, I almost crashed into my mother.

"Lilly, what on Earth are you doing? Have you packed yet?"

I thought about my room, with my school robes crumpled messily on my desk, my unopened school books for the new term in an untidy stack in the corner, and my broom; which was being used to jam my wardrobe closed.

"Uh, almost…" I replied sheepishly, not quite meeting my mothers sharp, penetrating gaze.
"I just have to talk to Alb and James." I darted under my mums outstretched arm to chase after my brothers, and I almost got away, until she grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and pulled me sharply back to her side.
"Lilly Luna Potter, you leave your brothers be. If it comes to a fight I'll not feel any sympathy for you. I don't care what they've done-"
"But muuuuuuuuum." I whined like a baby.

"Stop that noise." She was irritated now. "If you don't hurry up you're going to miss the train. Now, go and get dressed or you'll look like a fool, stood in the middle of Kings Cross Station in your pyjamas."

She ushered me towards the stairs, and I climbed them slowly muttering dejectedly under my breath about all the different ways I wished I could curse my brothers.

At the top of the stairs I was stopped in my tracks by my dad, who was running a comb through his untidy black hair.

"Almost done packing, Lil?"
I looked down at the carpet and shook my head.
"Well," He said, and I could hear the laughter in his voice, "Lets see if we can't fix it, eh?"
He led the way to my room and chortled lightly at the mess. He opened my school trunk and peered inside over the top of his round, wire rimmed glasses. It was littered with old quills; their fathers bent and nibs snapped off, Cracked potions vials; their contents scattered along the bottom of my trunk, old sweets; barely recognisable under the layers of dust and fluff that they had accumulated over the years, and used pieces of parchment; their edges ripped and yellowing and the doodles flickering feebly between movement, as though it couldn't decide if it should be animated or not.
My dad turned to me and smiled.

"I had a mirror smash in my trunk once. When I came to clear it up later it had been ground to dust, and everything looked like it was coated in glitter…" His smile faltered as his brilliant green eyes clouded with the memory. "That mirror saved my life." He spoke, not to me, but to himself as he gazed into the grimy confines of my trunk. I knew he was looking past the chocolate frog trading cards and empty Weasleys Wizard Wheezes packets, and into the memory of that night. Dobby was just of many who had died to protect my father, "the chosen one" and he would never be able to forgive himself.

I crossed the room and gave him a hug and he ruffled my vivid red hair and kissed the top of my head. With a wave of his wand my trunk emptied itself, and my clothes and books piled haphazardly inside.
"Er…" He ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced. "I never was the best at that spell… At least your mother will think you packed by yourself now though." He winked at me and left the room, flicking his wrist towards my trunk. It sprang to life and floated hurriedly after him, almost crashing into a wall.
I rushed to the bathroom, and half and house later we were on the road. Alb, cooing to his pet Ferret and James and I debating the new Chudley Cannons line up. I was still adamant that Oliver Would would've been a better choice for keeper…

Chapter two

On the train.