A/N: So it's Adella, back after a year of no writing. This time we have a whole new author (replacing the old Emily) and Dani who hopefully won't back out of writing her chapter again. So, a lot of things change in a year and I must say that my writing has changed for the better. I still write in the genres I specified on our profile, just better. Now, I'll admit that I'm a review-whore, so for everyone that reviews, I shall write you a scene of 500 words for anything you want (give me a prompt and everything). Oh but still say stuff about the chapter in the review.

Playlist:
Hermione's Song (You and Me) - Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls
How You Love Me Now - Hey Monday
I Don't Wanna Dance - Hey Monday
Sayonara - Miranda Cosgrove
Homecoming - Hey Monday
Face of Love - Miranda Cosgrove

Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim this piece of writing to the Rowling household.

Chapter One: Tearing the Pavement

Man is born with an innate sense of arrogance. So accordingly man would be surprised should he come to the knowledge that in actuality, time stops for no one. If a taxi ran late for an important job interview, the economy was not affected. If a man fell fatally ill, the masses were not swayed. If a war stirred the country-side, the ground did not shake. If, somewhere in the forgotten moors of Scotland, the sun burnt a leaf from the top of the tallest maple down to the ebony waters of the lake, the tree still stood. And life went on.


Sunlight created a million diamonds on the glass-like water, casting spots of of dancing lights on the tree trunks by the shore. The air was uncomfortably humid-unbreathable-and making the sky smell like dirt. A short birch tree stood at one grassy edge of the lake. It was one of the more secluded places by the shores, not sandy, bare, and open for all to admire. Two feet from the ground were etched onto the trunk the initials W.K. and K.R. William Kingsley and Kate Royles, the previous Head Boy and Girl. Their old badges lied buried underneath the roots.

The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry bordered the lake on another side, and on hot days like this, students would be flooding outside to cool down by the waters and escape the stuffy castle. However, the grounds were bare aside from the big gatekeeper limping to his little hut from the greenhouses with a few dozen bowtruckles encased in his arms. The grounds were bare because everyday from eight til three, classes were held, and unfortunately for those many students that had tried to find out otherwise, the classes were not optional.

So then why, at one in the afternoon (right after lunch too), would there be a frazzled girl moving down the eastern corridor at such a rapid pace? Out of breath, she half ran down the hallway, stuffing her textbook into her bag, and swiping her hair away from her face. She felt out of focus, blood rushing to her ears and cheeks with a burning flame. It was though she was trapped inside a hot tea kettle, and her eyes fought to stay open as her head felt dizzy. She was disoriented enough that she hardly realized it when her foot hit a dislodged stone on the floor and she stumbled against the wall. Her shoulder crashed against the stone, and her bag fell to the ground, spilling out its contents.

"Shit!" she growled, stopping with a heavy breath to close her eyes in frustration before dropping to her knees. Scooping everything messily back into her bag, she returned to her feet, scrambling back down the hall to a closed mahogany door at the end of it.
Not too long after, the door swung open and she stood frozen at the opening, caught in the act of desperately trying to zip up her bulging bag. She looked up sheepishly, slowly lifting the bag up (regardless of it being half open) and securing it on her shoulder. About twenty heads had turned back to look at her, and quills were still raised to take note of the lesson she'd so rudely interrupted.
"Ms. Evans, how nice of you to join us," said a stiff woman at the front of the classroom, with her back straight as a board and her square glasses framing two scrutinizing eyes. Her wand was raised towards a glass bottle of whiskey and she seemed to be in the middle of demonstrating a new spell.

Lily shuffled her feet, looking down and holding her hands behind her back. She fidgeted as she realized that the professor was waiting for an answer.

"W-well you see professor. Funny thing just happened. Now, I was on my way, but out of nowhere I happened to come across someth-"
"Sit down Ms. Evans." She looked up briefly, relieved that the woman had cut her off.
"Yes ma'am."
She navigated her way through the rows of desks, bumping into a few people and mumbling apologies under her breath. She kept her head down as she went, feeling as though she was in the spotlight. But the class was used to this by now. She reached the far left of the classroom, avoiding the students' eyes. Dumping her bag on a desk farthest by the wall, she sat next to a brown-haired Hufflepuff who happened to be looking at her amusedly.
"Where were you?" he whispered to the side while facing the front of the classroom and continuing to take notes. She had bent over her chair to pull out a scroll of parchment and a quill and an inkwell. And that new bottle of ink she'd gotten as a back-to-school present. "Morgana's eternal charcoal: smudge-free and more vibrant than ever before!"

She put her things on the table and looked at him with a small frown on her face. Then, she turned, looked at McGonagall and replied, "I fell asleep in History of Magic."

"Lily. You've been late to a lot of classes lately," he said skeptically, putting his black eagle quill down for a second. Lily sighed, looking down and straightening her school clothes, fixing her tie that was loose, and smoothing down her hair. She looked at him for a second before looking away again saying, "I've just been tired."


The Great Hall was filled with students ready for tea after classes. They would sit, chat, do homework under the bright and sunny sky, and maybe grab a biscuit on the way out to the grounds. The tables were stacked with scones, and crumpets, and biscuits of all kinds (Lily preferred the cinnamon), with tea and pumpkin juice to top it off, although already half was gone less than a few minutes past dismissal time.
Lily strolled in with that Hufflepuff boy, Matthew Garrison. He held her hand and led her to the Gryffindor table where they sat sometimes.
"This is not the time to be slacking off, Lily. You've just been appointed Head Girl. What if Dumbledore revokes it?" Matt reprimanded as he walked to the other side of the table and put both of their bags down. He sat and grabbed a goblet nearest him, filling it to the brim with pumpkin juice.

"Well then, I'd be glad, wouldn't I? I've hardly had time for anything else with all those Head duties. And mind you, I didn't see the Head Boy in class today, did you?" Running her fingers through her hair, she laid her arms on the table and rested her head on top. She could imagine Matt's disapproving gaze at her head, folded arms and a pursed lip. It was quite unattractive.

"Potter isn't exactly a standard."

As if on cue, the raucous laughter of Head Boy James Potter and the rest of his crew rang throughout the hall. Lily lifted her head to look at him standing regally by the doors.

James Potter was the kind of person that drew everyone's attention the second he stepped in the room. It was one of those things Lily had disliked about him in first year when the teachers paid her no token next to him, and loathed now when any conversation she was having was disrupted by his presence. He didn't exactly have the large fan club of adoring girls that he always believed he had, being the egotistical prat that he was, but the crowd would still migrate towards him to stand in the limelight for just a second.

He was a forward lad, expressing blatant truth when it suited him and not others, and in true Gryffindor fashion, all his actions preceded thought. It was common knowledge by now that James Potter was simply "perfect."

Lily looked beside her. Matt had put down his goblet and was fishing for his bag on the floor. Getting up quickly, she snatched her bag and walked away as discreetly as she could. Pushing her way through the crowd she knew there was no way he could possibly see her. But Lily's Hufflepuff boyfriend was unusually good at finding people.

She froze as she heard her name shouted over the heads of other schoolmates.

"Where are you going?"

Keeping her head down, she continued walking, hoping he would just stay where he was. "The Common Room," she said without looking back.

Matt jumped up from his seat behind her and ran to catch up. When she felt him draw closer, she stopped abruptly and sighed, slowing down and allowing him to put his arm around her waist.
"Now, you weren't trying to leave me behind?" He asked jokingly, chuckling as though he had said the greatest thing in the world.
"Of course not, dear."

As the two of them drew closer to the entrance, Lily stopped again. She turned around and faced Matt with a small smile on her face that wasn't there a few seconds before. Matt himself looked a little surprised, but it didn't take long for a smile to creep on his face as well. Standing on her toes, she tilted her head up tantalizingly slow, reaching back and pulling Matt down at the same beat.

"Well, what do we have here?" a loud voice broke through. Lily pulled away just as slowly. The smile on her face became a grin. Matt turned around to face the voice with an annoyed look on his features.
There stood James Potter in all his glory. He brought himself to full height, (Matt was still a few inches taller), and strutted in their direction. He left two of his friends by the doors, busy doing whatever they were, and only Sirius followed curiously behind. James' arms were crossed in a condescending kind of way when he finally came to a stop next to the couple.

"So, it's Matt right?" he asked, his head tilted slightly away from Matt, as though he took this conversation quite disdainfully (even if he was the one who initiated it). That was just James Potter.

"Potter, I've known you on the Quidditch field for five years," said the Hufflepuff keeper. Lily had a hard time stifling a laugh. James however swiveled his head to face Matt with a glare.

"Look Garrison. You may have it in your head that your team is the best in the school just because you somehow miraculously took the cup last year without actually winning a single game, but let's be honest here-you weren't able to block a single goal from me, or anyone for that matter. The only reason you got anywhere was because of your damn beaters," he said defensively.

Lily's eyes narrowed.

"You hardly even got close to those goals, Potter."
James turned around, taken aback.
"That's a lot coming from the girl who fell off her first time on a broom."
"Potter, you can take your stupid Cleansweep and stick it up your ass." James smirked and took her hand mockingly. "You know about my new broom, Evans? Been following the Quidditch fan clubs? I'm flattered." Her fist clenched, and she tore it out of his grasp.
"In fact, I'm flattered you've been thinking about me at all," he said. She forced out a laugh.
"Star chaser Potter? Tell me why you can't score."
"At least I know which goal to shoot for," he spat back at her.

Lily frowned and pushed past the infuriating Head Boy and Sirius behind him who was looking very confused. Matt quickly followed behind her, smirking at James' upset expression.

The Main Hall, outside of the Great hall, was less crowded. There were still students of all ages passing through to get outside, or back into the Great Hall, or into their respective common rooms to finish the work for that day. Right across the entrance to the Great Hall were two larger doors leading outside to the grounds. On either side of these doors were large windows, stretching from the ceiling to the floor and taking up more space than the wall itself.

The sun from outside filtered in through the marbled windows, making twisted rays of light fill the Main Hall. The shadows thrown upon the walls behind them were bent and warbled, like a reflection in a broken mirror. Light bounced off Lily's head, setting her head aflame and softening the edges of her body in a golden haze.

The glory of that was lost on Lily as she flicked her hair out of her face and turned her back to the windows, squinting her eyes in an agitated manner. At her side, her hand was still a fist, shaking as her nails dug into her palm. Potter and his screwed up accusations.

Matt came out of the Great Hall a few minutes later, still smirking at coming out on top in a verbal spar with James Potter who he'd disliked since second year when James had accidentally spilled a corrosive potion on his favorite shirt and sent him to the Hospital Wing with mild burns. The smirk faded from his face when he saw Lily's expression of annoyance. He backed away a little and offered an uneasy smile in return to Lily's raised eyebrow.

"You alright there?" he asked, raising a stocky arm to ruffle his hair.

"I'm sorry," Lily said, mumbling and looking down. "Potter just..."

"Hey, it's fine. How about I just meet you in the common room tonight if you're feeling better?"

Lily looked up at him, lips still touching the words she'd been about to say. She closed her mouth in a frown and held back a sigh.

"Alright?" he asked, already backing away and searching for the nearest escape route.

"Alright." And he headed down the hall.

Lily watched as he left until she was sure he wasn't coming back. Looking down, she raised her arm. Her hand was still in a fist. She opened it, and lying on her palm was a small, folded piece of parchment. She gently unopened it. Scrawled in black ink, she saw 7:00.


The common room was prematurely dark, with all the curtains closed so the Gryffindors had an excuse to start the fire and put away their homework so they could "just finish it tomorrow." From the fireplace, embers whispered across the ashen surface of the firewood, turning the bark half-white like a winter sky. The dull light flickered across the room, not reaching the far walls where two staircases rose to the girls' and boys' dorms. It skipped across the velvety curtains onto the soft cotton couches. The light danced across the brows of the first years, laughing at the chessboard with wide eyes in a castle like this, and onto the bent shoulders of the fifth years, huddled over their textbooks with their heads filled with terrible tales of the O.W.L.s fed to them by older siblings.

The room was filled with a soft buzz, as none of the occupants were up to raising their voices, even the Marauders sitting on the main couch, in the middle of the room. Of course, with one of the most boisterous of their group missing, even Sirius was kept quiet by the exhaustion that swept over the students on hot days like this. Hardly anyone, hearing "altus" from outside, looked up when the portrait door opened and Matt casually walked in.

The cries of protest and animosity at an intruder in the Gryffindor common room had stopped a long time ago. When the housemates had realized that the Head Girl's Hufflepuff boyfriend could do whatever he wanted. He headed to the couch in front of the fire, walking like he owned the place.

Lily was curled up by herself on that couch, letting the warmth radiate across her face as she held a small book in her hands. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the heat, and she had tied her hair back to make it not as suffocating. Most of the people in that common room had seated themselves as far away from that fire as they could. Not Lily. She was that girl that would be willing to walk outside in her full uniform while others opted for a less layered, muggle approach in shorts and tank tops. She'd fall asleep under two heavy blankets when her dorm mates only needed a single bed sheet. The book she was reading had been given to her a while ago. It was a muggle one, The Painted Veil.

"Hey," Matt said, sitting next to her. After a second, she looked up, nodded at him, and then went back to reading. She curled up just a little bit tighter and her shoulders leaned just a little bit more to the left, away from him. He frowned and reached over a hand, pulling her face his way. He leaned in and placed his lips softly on hers. She pulled away immediately. She'd been doing that a lot recently.

Lily turned back to her book. Matt once again pulled her face to his. This time he took the book out of her hands and threw it behind him. She made to pull away once more, but he only pulled her closer, and she finally gave in, putting one hand behind his neck and one on the side of his face. He pushed her against the back of the couch, holding her waist. As she moved away briefly for air, her eyes caught a small clock right above the fireplace. Her eyes widened and she shifted to the side as Matt dove in, lips puckered.

"I have to go. Patrols," she said as she ran to the portrait hole. Behind her, the book had caught fire in the fireplace, fueling the lonely embers. The pages flapped as the words burnt into oblivion.


The hallway outside the Gryffindor common room was lit orange by the sunset outside. Beyond the many windows in the hall, the grounds looked picturesque. The grassy moors were flushed with golden light from the sun, making long shadows to create an unreal, dramatic look. Even the sun was so low in the sky, it seemed like a burnt out lantern, so that it still glowed, but not enough to blind anyone. And close by the lake was a young Ravenclaw with a canvas in his lap and an array of paints beside him.

Lily stepped out of the common room, dazed by the sudden change in lighting. She rubbed her eyes, stumbling forward a few steps. Looking back before the portrait closed, she saw Matt in the dark common room, sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. Then it snapped shut and the Fat Lady glared when she saw who was standing in front of her. The Head Girl had gotten off on bad terms with the painting back in fifth year when she had accidentally referred to her as the "Fat Lady" while standing in front of her.

Lily quickly turned around and ventured down the hall, not looking back. She heard the Fat Lady behind her, screaming "If you come back late like last time, I will not open for you. I don't care if you're Head Girl or not; I need sleep too!"

She stopped running at the end of the hall when she could no longer hear the Fat Lady. It got considerably darker near the staircases in the middle of the school where there were no windows and only lanterns which were a big step down from a muggle lightbulb. She made her way down one of the few unmoving staircases and stepped into a different hall.

The hallways were made of stone-the kind that echoed when you were by yourself. And even on hot days like this, the walls exuded a terrible chill. Lily never really liked the cold. Whenever winter rolled around, and everyone was outside making snowmen and snow angels and ice skating on the lake, she would stay hidden underneath her large duvet, only letting her head peek out when a house elf had brought her a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

It wasn't too late, granted, and curfew was still three hours away, but the only people in the halls at this time were the ones who were headed to the nearest broom closet or astronomy tower. Or the caretaker, Mr. Filch, but no one really liked to think about him.

Times like this, everything was just that-lonely. Maybe that was the worst feeling in the world. Because that was when the doubts kicked in. That everything was wrong. That, in the end, nothing would change. Lily shivered, walking against the wall, letting her shoulder press into it as she wrapped her arms around herself. This hallway seemed to stretch on for miles. Finally she came to a stop next to a door on the second floor. She opened it slowly, and the loud creak seemed to ring throughout the entire castle. She winced, hoping no one else heard it. Closing it behind her, quick this time, she looked around the room.

It was an empty classroom. There were tables lined up and facing a desk, with a large chalkboard behind. But a class hadn't been taught there for decades. The dust littering the floors and air was proof enough. There was still writing on the board, but it had faded over the years, and Lily could hardly make out the words face changing. Fifth years had just learned how to transfigure living people, so she guessed it was the classroom of the rumoured Professor Molloy who'd been fired after biting a student in the middle of his first year teaching.

Lily had only managed to take one step away from the door before she was abruptly pushed back into it. She tripped over her own feet, but two hands held her up by her arms. Her back thudded against the old wood of the door as she felt someone's lips fall onto her own. She struggled briefly to get her arms out of his grasp. When she did, she grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.