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Just a Typical First Day

Hogwarts was just up ahead, in the distance.

The train pulled up to the school.

I ate at the banquet.

I went up to my room.

Unpacked my stuff.

Just a typical first day of the year at Hogwarts.

As usual.

I sighed and shoved my clothes in whatever drawer they happened to fit in. I didn't even want to look at the gold and maroon fabric. I knew my mother and written my name in each and every article of clothing. FIURIA. They'd all say it. Nothing to look forward to there.

Not like I really cared.

Not like it really mattered.

My depression hung over me heavily.

I had no means of getting the guy I loved and no means of loving anyone else.

So why should anything matter?

I fell down on my bed and stared around the empty room. Soon it would be filled with three giggling nimrods. The very bane of my existence. After they came I'd never get any peace. So I had to take my alone time when I could.

The starry night outside mocked me.

Twinkling.

Shining.

Blinding.

I rolled over agitated and buried my head in my pillow.

Well, this was starting out to be a great year! Going just as I had planned! I had sworn to myself I was going to forget about him and have good year. Doesn't seem likely at this point.

I dreaded my roommates coming in. All that would do is cause me to sink even further into this damned depression of mine. Something my psychologist told me was very bad. He had always spoken to me like I was a child. I'm a sixth year! I am not a child anymore! But it still wasn't fair. No matter how much that effed-up fruitcake told me I was being unrealistic in my perceptions of myself and those around me, I couldn't help it. It just plain old wasn't fair.

She got all of his attention. And she completely disregarded him! She always turned a blind eye to his affection whilst I looked on longingly for that same look of adoration. He was always showing off in front of her and her unappreciative gaze. Her with her unruly orange-ish-red hair and ruddy green eyes.

\Him...him with his perfectly deep green eyes and beautiful jet black windswept hair...but he never looked at me. He was always looking at her.

Lily Evans.

The name left a bad taste on my tongue. I groaned and slammed myself onto my back so I was looking up at the ceiling with my expressive grey eyes. I twirled a piece of my dark brown hair around my finger as a wild thought crossed my mind:

I could make him love me the same way my passion for him burns like an incessant flame.

He WAS going to notice me.

He WAS going to look at me.

Not her.

I was going to get him.

He was going to be mine.

Here I come James Potter. Here I come...