There were three of us. In perspective there were probably actually ten of us girls. We weren't the really nerdy, bookish types who were destined to office labor for the rest of their lives. Nor were we the trampy, beautiful types who seemed to have it all, but who eventually were left with nothing. We were in between the extremes. We were the smart, the funny, the pretty, the 'most likely to be successful' type. We were the girls.

There were ten of us, but when it came to James Potter, there were only three.

Cassidy was the tallest and the thinnest. No one called her Cassidy, instead opting for her middle name Lexi. James was the only one who called her Cassidy, sang it actually. It was the name of one of his favorite Grateful Dead songs and he'd walk by screeching, "Born to me, Cassidy". Her olive skin and small, smiling face were framed by an abundance of thick, black, curly hair. She was, in my opinion, the prettiest of the three, yet had the hardest time with boys. She could make conversation with anyone. She was opinionated and intelligent without being abrasive, but had a quiet temper that built up and usually exploded in our faces.

Viola's parents had an unfortunate fixation on Shakespearean names. She was the dancer, the dreamer, the singer, and the giggler. Although she was hopelessly romantic and optimistic she thought of herself as a realist, a true Nietzsche follower; she was oblivious, as usual. Her defining features were her crazy curly mane, affectionately named Angus after a neighbor's poodle, her height (barely over five foot), her loud laugh, and her hips (her opinion, not mine). She was bright, not just in the bookish way, but in the pick up someone's day way.

And then there's me. Physically, I'm pretty average. The only thing setting me apart is my deep red hair and dark green eyes. Even then my hair is annoyingly straight and fine and my eyes are much too large they make me seem eager and innocent. I don't believe I'm either. I'm the resident cynic, caustic to a fault. I'm the wealthiest and I guess that's cause for my slight superiority complex. I'm the artist, the writer, the observer, and the doer. I'm confident and still klutzy. I've been told I'm the strongest, the most superficial, and the most pragmatic of us all. Oh only if they knew...

Third year I had developed a bit of a crush on none other than Mr. Potter. I kept it to myself, mostly because almost ever girl was infatuated with him. Viola had loved him forever; they had been neighbors. She had been sending him notes (against my completely objective advice) and they had developed what seemed to be a sort of friendship. My little crush and all respect for James Potter came crashing down, however, when he decided to announce to the entire Great Hall that I was in love with Amos Diggory (another crush at the time). My thirteen-year-old self was devastated by his remark and I swore never to speak to him again.

That was the first time I paid attention to what an asshole James could be. He got worse as time wore on. In fifth year a prefect caught him buying weed from another kid during Transfiguration. James, however, didn't get in trouble because the prefect feared his reputation and his family's power. Fifth year was also when James' brother Harry graduated. Harry was James except better. Cuter, smarter, taller, and more athletic he went off to one of the most accredited and difficult auror programs in the world. He was the Potter golden child. Personally, I think, watching his brother do so well is what stopped James from becoming completely hopeless. He changed that summer and sixth year came back markedly different. No more weed (he's been clean for nearly two years) but still the occasional booze fest. I wasn't the only one who noticed...

We were partners in potions and charms. The forced extra time together caused us to form a tentative friendship. It became apparent to me that Viola and him still maintained their friendship. When a small coffee shop opened in Hogsmeade, V and I made plans to go. We ran into James who came with us. We spent several hours drinking hot chocolate and lattes watching people go by the store. It was the first of many such trips. Every couple of weeks the three of us would make plans to go. They weren't loud trips; there was a sweet magical sense to them. It was just the three of us and it was good that way. Sixth year ended, but during the summer we kept in touch. We met in London for coffee several times in order to keep the little ritual alive.

You can see up to this point I'm not really including Lexi. When she first joined us at Hogwarts during fourth year, every girl had warned her that she would eventually fall for James. It was just a fact of life. For whatever reason she just didn't feel that way about James. Lex briefly dated Sirius, but it ended amicably. James never seemed to affect her like he did other girls, but that was proven wrong during our final year at Hogwarts.

Seventh year. That's when it all went to hell. The shit hit the fan. We had all been living blissfully under the idea that our relationships had no consequences. We all thought we could just lie, keep secrets, and pass time happily that way. We decided to be catty, to be bitchy, and to undermine each other and ourselves. Everything came unraveled. Simply everything.

There were ten of us, but when it came to James Potter, there were only three. At the end there was just one, me, Lily.

This is my story, the story of that fateful year.

Uh...yeah so review if you enjoyed. Or are at least interested. This is going to be slightly AU as is obvious by now. This isn't about Lily's best friends hooking up with James' best friends, it's not about James chasing Lily publicly, it's just about how things work out...and don't.

Review please!

Hales