Scars Are A Family Trait

I WENT TO THE WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER HAHA SUCK IT.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, although I do have three weeks worth of t-shirts from the theme park.

Lily Evans was good at many things, but her crowning glory was Apparition.

Grabbing her overnight bag for Mary's, Lily made a quarter-turn on the spot. The very first time she'd attempted the move in their first lesson, she'd successfully appeared in her hoop, much to the consternation of the class. By the end of the session, she'd made it to the front of the Great Hall. She'd been allowed to test early, and had passed with the comment of "Better than my own! A natural!" Destination, Determination, and Deliberation had been ingrained into her being since her childhood. Lily had complete faith in her own abilities.

Which is why she was rather perplexed when she suddenly found herself in James Potter's shower.

Upon noticing the boy's bare chest, Lily averted her eyes and screamed.

James yelped, and something he was holding clattered to the floor. "Lily!" He was making no frantic attempts to cover his lower areas, Lily noted with chagrin. "Did you Apparate in? You didn't make a sound!"

"Really?" Lily was momentarily delighted, before recalling where she was, and with whom.

Lily edged back from James and slipped on the water, magnificently falling through the shower curtain and ripping it from its hooks.

James stepped hurriedly over the tub's edge. Lily realised that he was, in fact, wearing pants, and so deemed it appropriate to flip herself over and look up at him.

"Are you all right?" James was leaning over her, examining her head for blood.

"I'm fine," Lily grumbled. "What were you doing in there, anyway?"

James held up a bottle of Mrs. Skower's. "I figured it'd be easier to clean if I let the water run." When Lily looked at his sponge inquiringly, he added, "My mum is a firm believer in deep-down Muggle cleaning. Sirius is doing the attic."

"Ah."

James blinked, as if just realising something, and reached out toward Lily.

"What are you – no – don't touch me - !" But James had already grabbed her wrist and hoisted her up. A bit too heartily, perhaps, because Lily knocked into his chest as she slipped on her own water runoff. James grabbed her again before she fell once more.

"I'm scarred! I'm scarred!" Lily shrieked melodramatically. "You're…" She leapt out of his grasp, and James leaned over to turn the water off, giving her an eyeful of his bare upper body. "…Scarred," she finished breathily, and to cover up her blushing, she lunged for her drenched bag before James could get to it. She realised that she was as wet as the case, and thought she probably bore a strong resemblance to a drowned cat.

Lily began to rummage around for her wand, but James pulled his out first and dried her suitcase.

"I can't do anything for your clothes, unfortunately," James apologised. "Remus always did that spell for us."

"It's okay. It's something young witches typically learn at home, so I don't know how either. Thank you." Lily thought James was probably looking at the floor, but she certainly wasn't about to raise her own eyes and check.

There was a measure of silence, and then James cleared his throat. "Um, come on," he instructed, opening the door. "I'll find you some clothes."

Lily followed him down the hall; as they passed a large door, there was a loud thud and an "OW!"

"Attic?" Lily asked.

"Yeah," James chuckled. "So why'd you drop in? Fancied a visit with me?"

Lily grimaced. "Ah, yes, there's the trouble," she explained. "I was trying to get to Mary's."

James hmmed. "You wouldn't happen to have been thinking about me before you left, would you?" he teased as they stopped at another door.

"No!" Lily defended truthfully and hit James, noticing again his numerous scars.

"That's very strange, that you would Apparate to the wrong place," James commented. Lily nodded. "When was the last time you visited Mary?" he inquired, leading her into the room and walking to the dresser.

"Er… summer after second year?" Lily tried to remember.

"That would explain things," James said, and he slammed the drawer shut. "No. My mum's clothes are all just embarrassing." He walked to another door down the hall, and Lily followed.

"What explains things?" Lily demanded.

James' room was poorly lit (probably a good thing), and there was a camp bed on the far wall, obviously Sirius'. The closet door squeaked as it opened, and James' voice was muffled from inside.

"This house is new," he explained. "Remember how Mary's brother was killed by You-Know-Who in our third year?" James emerged, probably to gauge Lily's reaction.

"Don't hedge around the name," she responded taking the bundle of clothes from James' hand. "Just call him Voldemort. It's not as if he deserves our respect." The admiration pouring from his eyes could have drowned her. "And yes, I remember."

"Their house was destroyed," James went on, never breaking their gaze. "So the MacDonalds moved, and we built a new house here."

"Case closed," Lily concluded. "Now get out, I have to change."

Lily retrieved her bag from the bathroom, where James was again scrubbing the walls of the shower. He stood up upon her arrival.

"Leaving?" he asked, and Lily nodded.

"Mary will be wondering where I am." She hugged James (when did he get so tall?) and then kissed the scar closest to her, on his shoulder. James didn't move. She crossed to her bag and asked, "Where did you get all of those scars, anyway?"

The glazed look in James' eye was banished as he shook his head rapidly, back in reality. "Remus."

Lily tried not to laugh; he was obviously a bit dazed. Remus would never hurt a fly.

"WHY ARE YOU WEARING A SHIRT THAT SAYS 'JAMES POTTER, CHASER'?" Mary screeched as soon as Lily Apparated (silently!) in her living room.

Lily just smirked and deeply inhaled the aroma it emitted.