Just Friends
(Harry, James and Lily Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Ginny and Fred Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks and Dumbledore are JK Rowling's brainchildren. Anabel Lily Lupin is my brainchild.
Set in a very, very, VERY Alternate Universe, Anabel Lily has always loved Harry, but he was always too in love with Ginny to notice. Several months after her death, Anabel Lily and Harry enjoy an afternoon in the garden.
1980: James Potter and Lily Evans are married.
October 31st, 1981: James Potter and Lily Evans were enjoying a quiet night in, whilst Harry's grandparents are murdered. Grandma Evans sacrifices herself, giving Harry his scar.
1982: James Potter begins career as a crooner, and shoots to the top of muggle, and wizarding, international charts.
December 28th, 1982: Anabel Lily Lupin is born, daughter of Remus John and Allison Lupin.
1985: Remus Lupin marries Allison Kent
Sirius Black never kills Peter- Peter is kicked out of the Marauders for betraying the location of The Evans and Potter families to Voldemort. Voldemort went to the house of James Potter in Godric's Hollow, but killed Harry's grandparents who were babysitting him. James and Lily survived, divorced, spent a year apart, dated, broke up then remarried in 1985 again. Yes, Remus taught at Hogwarts in '93. Yes, Remus is a werewolf. No, Teddy Lupin does not exist. No, Remus did not get together with Tonks, because I do not like her.
Flame me for this extraordinarily long Author's Note, or because you hate the story. Do not flame me for wanting to keep James, Remus, Sirius and Lily alive.)
"Just Friends, remember?"
They were quite happy as friends, one sitting with his back against the tree, the other with torso across his legs as she read a book. She was stretched out over her friend, her almost brother, her head propped up by her hand, an elbow sinking into the new spring grass. He was leaning back against an old sycamore tree, his eyes closed, and glasses askew. Asleep.
"'...He will throw sticks at you, and stamp his feet and scold, and shout—"Cuck-cuck-cuck-cur-r-r-cuck-k-k!' The End," read Anabel Lily aloud, closing The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin. Eighteen years old and still reading Beatrix Potter. She slid forwards and curled around to sit beside her best friend of seventeen years, Harry Potter. A smile lit up her round face as she noticed he was asleep; she reached forward and removed his glasses. Anabel picked up her jacket from the ground and rolled the soft fabric up, setting it behind the head of her friend.
She then sat back, at the base of his feet, and drew her legs up to her rounded chest, her head sitting in the indent between her two knees. Anabel smiled sadly to herself at the way Harry's forehead crinkled in his sleep and reached forward, brushing lithe fingers against his furrowed brow. Poor Harry James. He had lost his grandparents when he was just one. His godfather when he was fifteen. His elderly confidante and seeming grandfather when he was sixteen, and more recently, he had lost Ginevra and Fred Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks- not that Anabel Lily had ever liked her much. She had always thought that Nymphadora spent too much time looking at her father, and not enough looking after Harry- and many other friends in the Battle of Hogwarts. Although Sirius Black was her father's best friend (and at one stage, if she was to believe her Aunty Holly, her mother's lover!) and Dumbledore too, was her teacher, she didn't mourn them. She had spent a long portion of her life doing that, and was determined to have fun now she was finally out of Hogwarts.
Fun, however, consisted of nothing. Remus Lupin was a stickler for rules, and unfortunately, she had broken "far too many" when she was at school. The most notorious of which was that she had dated before she was sixteen. Her mother, Allison- although ever referred to as Allie- had no qualms about allowing her daughter to date. Her father, on the other hand... the moment he had found out she had been caught snuggling Finch-Fletchley in school grounds, she had been sent a Howler- detailing that if she were ever caught with him again, Remus would castrate the boy- and then the moment she was home from vacation, was on home detention.
And now that 1999 had rolled around, she was, once again, grounded. Although this time, it wasn't even her fault. In fact, as far as Anabel Lily- called Anily by Harry- could tell, she hadn't done anything wrong. According to her Uncle James, however, her father was just having "that time of month" again. Of course, nothing James Potter said could possibly be taken as true; he was a crooner, famous, half Italian, and a Marauder to boot.
As such, Anabel Lily was stuck in the backyard of Harry's house, watching him sleep. They had been sent outside, because the weather was so good. Or at least, that was what Uncle James had said. In her mind, Anabel Lily was pretty damn sure the real reason was that her Aunty Lily and Uncle James were just horny and wanted to spend some time alone together. She sighed softly and looked at Harry, fingering the round lens of the glasses she held in her hand. She loved his eyes; they were vibrant and emerald, almond-shaped and framed by dark, generous lashes. They were the same as her Aunty Lily's, but oh-so-different. Only Anabel Lily seemed to notice the subtle nuance of hazel in them- that belonged to his father, James. It was only Anabel Lily that saw how the emerald wasn't entirely emerald. Harry's eyes didn't have quite the same intensity as Lily's. The outer edge of his iris may have been emerald, but around his pupil, they were a watery grass green.
Anabel Lily giggled softly as Harry stuck his thumb in his mouth, mumbling something around it that she couldn't quite make out. Her tawny eyes flicked up to his hair. Even more wild and untameable than her Uncle James', the only way Anabel Lily had ever managed to make it flat was ladling a fat
blob of gel onto it and smoothing it down. Fortunately, Anabel Lily, and Harry, preferred it when his hair was chaotic. She rested her cheek on her knee as she watched his nose twitch.
"Anily..."
She blinked and hurriedly made it look as though she had been doing something else, as she heard Harry say her name. Although... it wasn't so much of a 'say' as a 'groan'. She buried her head in the much earlier abandoned Prince Caspian, embarrassed that Harry had caught her watching him. After reading a few pages, Anabel Lily chanced a glance at her friend and came to the realisation that he hadn't woken up when he'd called her name. He'd just spoken in his sleep. She folded down the corner of her page- despite the fact that her father would constantly tell her not to, and probably would for the rest of her life- and stretched her long, slim legs out briefly, before folding them. She rested the book in her lap, and let out a small, amused but horrified little giggle at the sight she had in front of her.
Harry James Potter, his brow furrowed, his eyes closed, his hair a mess... and his jeans looking certainly too tight. She bit her lip as she heard him call her name again and pulled herself onto her feet. Anabel Lily brushed the dirt off her jeans- which really was pointless, considering that the jeans were covered in drawings (one of which was a lightning bolt drawn on her back right pocket, along with the name of its drawer, Mr. H. Potter) notes, names and some random telephone numbers- and tugged her crimson singlet back into place. Anabel Lily centred her filigree locket back to the centre of her chest, before leaning down and dropping her book into Harry's lap with a loud thud.
The young woman couldn't help but revel in the pained groan of the nineteen-year-old boy as he was rudely interrupted from could have been a rather damp dream.
"Merlin! What the bloody hell was that for?!" Harry cried, his hands resting over his bruised parts as he pouted.
"Your friend said hello. I thought I should wake you up before you started screaming some girl's name," Anabel Lily replied, examining her nails.
"My frie- oh. Oh!" Harry let out a small yelp and got quickly to his feet. "Oh, that. Yeah. I can explain that. I was uh... thinking of... Ginny. You know how I loved he-"
"Pervert. Getting all worked up over a corpse, hm?" Anabel Lily snapped, her eyes flashing anger.
"What's your problem?"
"You. Lying. To me."
"I was NOT lying!"
"Was so."
"Was not!"
"Was so."
"Liar."
"Hey! You're the liar."
"Liar," Harry responded, poking his tongue out at his friend.
"Well, at least I'm not getting aroused by corpses. Necrophiliac."
"Nymphomaniac."
"Virgin," Anabel Lily responded, poking her own tongue out in response.
"Hussy."
"Prude."
"Cock-tease."
"Tight a-mmmnnn..." Anabel Lily's words were suddenly gone as she found her mouth being invaded, albeit rather pleasantly so. Her hands rested at the back of Harry's neck, his hands resting on her hips as she was pulled roughly closer. Anabel Lily was kissing Harry. Her Harry. Her almost-brother Harry! She couldn't care less though, and pressed herself eagerly against the one-year-older man's body. A soft whimper escaped her lips as Harry's fingers grazed her breasts and she felt the familiar presence of a man's arousal pressing into her thigh. She shoved him away. "I'm not going to snog someone who's getting horny over a dead girl."
"Anily!" Harry huffed and folded his arms. "Fine. I wasn't thinking of Ginny. I was thinking of –"
"Me. I know," she said with a smile. She leant down, looking at the front of his trousers. "Keep up the good work," she said in a childish voice to her friend's... friend, before Anabel Lily straightened up. "You said it yourself though. Just friends, remember?" she said shortly before disapparating, leaving Harry James Potter standing there with a persistent happy part in his jeans, lipstick rubbed and faded across his mouth from the kiss, and a stupefied expression on his face.
"God, I love that girl."