Summary: The thoughts of a slightly darker, more insane and possibly not-so-perfect Lily Evans on, well, herself, life and a few other random things.
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I am up to no good. And I still don't own Harry Potter. Neither does Harlequin, who is, like, the bestest person ever! Yes, she did write that herself and made me swear not to delete it. Please excuse her, she kind of is that way.
A Semi-Insane Lily Evans Written by: Harlequin Posted by: Lissome Lilt
There is nothing wrong with me. At least not something really big, you know? Nothing anyone outside of Slytherin can see, anyway. Least of all Potter. And for those faults, the ones I have, I have these stupid, redeeming qualities. I'm pretty, I'm smart, I'm popular, the Gryffindor Quidditch Star is infatuated with me, and I have so many friends and I'm so nice to them, so I'm absolutely, fuck-tacularly perfect.
Of course I am, I'm Head Girl, the teachers love me, I have all Outstandings and Exceeds Expectations, so I can't possibly be a bitch, can I? Well, not until last week, that is. Not until I told him, Potter, what I thought of him.
No, I don't mean that toerag thing. I mean, what I really thought of him. Or thought I thought of him. Yeah. And then Sirius *fucking* Black said what he thought of me. Apparently I'd hurt his friend, his best friend, and I'm not allowed to do that. I'm not allowed to be bluntly honest, I can't play the bully, the bad guy, uh, girl.
I can't be what they, the Marauders, have been to nearly everyone they don't like. Wait, forget the nearly. I can't be anything more than one of those girls who never breaks rules or swears or fucking drinks until they're of age. The irony. Because I am one of those girls who breaks rules and swears and drinks before they're of age. At least in the Muggle world. Not that my parents know about that, but still.
I don't want people to think I'm weak, that I can't stand up for myself, that I'll be the perfect stay-at-home wife to some successfully rich ministry employee. Of course. I mean, I try to be nice, but I'm not that kind of person. Or, it's more that I'm not entirely that kind of person. I probably have a multiple personality disorder, but hell. At least I'm not perfect, goody two-shoes. At least I think I'm not.
Or I'm going insane. Then I won't have to think, and I can be as bloody brutally honest as I want to. And I'll probably only get more confused, but who cares. And maybe, just maybe, I'll get the Marauders to leave me alone and start pranking someone else, because honestly, I don't particularly like to have my hair dyed silver and green, and my robes trying to tap-dance. Doesn't seem to care that robes don't have feet.
And I actually like not being the laughing-stock of the whole school. Not that they care about what I think. Or that I might get embarrassed, and just want to throw myself off the Astronomy Tower. That's what they call fun. I don't.
Oh, fuck, I might as well go do that. Throw myself off the Astronomy Tower. Or not. I could always push Potter and Black, maybe even Remus into the lake. I'm sure the giant squid would be delighted to have someone to play with.
No, that would be childish. And amusing. Wonder what the infamous Marauders would do in that kind of situation.
Cue evil laughter.
This is what you get when your best friend makes you promise to post something they've written. Yeah … I'm never going to do that again. Unless you like it. Or love it. Or maybe even if you hate it, because some flames are really fun to read.