Lily: Erm, James and me have been asked to uh, introduce the first chapter, for the sequel.
James: It's only because OwlEyes is lazy.
Blue: Stop being so cruel! And stick to your scripts!
James: Fine fine calm down *shuffling of paper* Lily, we're on page two, paragraph five right?
Lily: I honestly don't know- this script is so long.
James: And the words are all different- as if OwlEyes doesn't work us hard enough eh?
Lily: I know right? It's like we don't even get a vacation- do we even have dental?
James: You know- I didn't see that in our contract anywhere- did you?
Lily: No I-
Blue: That's enough! Stop making me look bad guys, sheesh- I'll do the intro then!
James and Lily: Too late!
Lily: Enjoy the first chapter of the sequel to Memories of a Tiger Lily guys!
James: *winks* and please, feel free to leave a review- for the sake of my relationship with Lily.
Blue: *shocked* James! I never beg for reviews!
James: You do now.
Blue: umm...ok...well get reading then guys!
Lily: Blue doesn't own us- the universe does! Oh and the system, but this story is about overcoming the system (Moldy wort A.K.A Voldemort) so...yeaah.
"Lily, we can do this, love- the torture is almost over- just-" "James, do calm down. I can handle this, but I'm not all too sure about you."
"Me? You think I can't handle it? The James Potter? Honestly, it's like we haven't been dating for a year-"
"Brace yourself James," I whispered hurriedly into his ear as we stepped over the thresh hold and were enveloped by clouds of lace and frills.
I felt James shudder next to me and pull me closer. "The horror- it's just like Madam Puddifoots! Blast it all- I didn't bring a dung bomb with me," he said, his lips brushing against my ear and making my skin tingle.
I laughed but stifled it quickly. Tuney had just shot me a look of pure venom- the kind of look that would send even Vernon's sister, Marge's, bull dogs running in the other direction, with their tails between their legs.
Anyway, during the ceremony, James had noticed my dampened air. The man never misses a beat.
He had attempted to cheer me up, by holding my hand and glaring around at all of Vernon's eager looking cousins, making me laugh under my breath as he pretended to be overprotective.
At least- I thought he was pretending.
I had laid my head on his shoulder, happy in my seat at the very back of the church, with his fingers playing with my hair affectionately and his whispered voice rumbling in my ear.
James could make the sky raining above me evaporate into a distant memory- and that's why I didn't regret the modest ring on my finger.
We were in the eye of the storm now, right in the middle of the out-door reception tent, completely surrounded by buzzing relatives and swooning brides maids.
Petunia's wedding was the kind that happened to be large and expensive- and sickeningly pink.
Her dress, actually, happened to be rather elegant and streamlined, like Vernon's stupid car, compared to the rest of the reception area, which was simply oozing clichéd glitter and ruffles.
There was even an ice swan- which happened to have started melting dismally onto the dance floor. In an hour's time it would go from bird to sodden puddle. Petunia wasn't going to like that- if she noticed.
And that was a gigantic if.
She was so enraptured by her new husband, that she didn't seem to want to spare any of her relatives a second glance- much less me.
It had hurt a bit when Petunia had refused to let me become a bride's maid- I had wanted to make up it up to her- to apologize through actions for the disastrous dinner date that had her and Vernon leave the restaurant as incensed piles of whipped cream.
Long story short- there had been some trouble with the fondue burner and a fire extinguisher. But I had come to a rather mature conclusion- I should be happy I was even invited.
Alright, fine- I admit, I was being rather bitter about it all.
"Should we pretend we're having fun or make our grand escape in half an hour's time, when everyone's good and drunk?" James asked, again into my ear, his arm around my waist protectively.
I felt an amused smile cross my face before I forced my expression back to normal. Inconspicuously, I leaned over to him, talking out of the corner of my mouth. "Let's go for option two, shall we?"
James grinned that breezy, easy smile that only he possessed and took my hand in his, completely enveloping it with his rough one, his fingers slightly sandpapery from years of gripping a broom.
"Righto then- but let's do something to kill some time. Shall we dance, Mrs. Almost Potter?"
I laughed truly then, loudly, because secretly, I liked being called that.
He had been calling me 'Mrs. Almost Potter' a lot- the first few times I told him off because I was, ahem, embarrassed, but the grin on his face was so wide and contagious after I said yes. I just had to grin back like a maniac too. So in the end, we were just standing there, in the middle of a busy train station platform, smiling like fools.
'Fools in love' he had said, waggling his eyebrows and kissing me quickly, before rushing off. He can be so mushy. As I turned away and walked off to where my parents stood waiting, I swore I heard a loud whoop from behind me.
Suddenly, I felt like a little kid again, I was so giddy- it was an odd feeling and I was convinced that James had passed it on to me like a bug.
The sky's always clear when you're as daft as James and I- even when it's hailing bludgers.
A slow, simpering song as sugary as the tea at Madam Puddifoot's had just come on- but James whirled me around the dance floor anyway, until I was in stitches from laughing so much and pretty much everyone I knew was staring.
I heard whispers and mutters from my own relatives and some from Vernon's side of up-tight snobs, who all hail from the corner of straight and narrow. I think some come from the back-street of normal and color-less too.
Do you think I cared?
The murmurs and glares from Tuney just blended in with the background noise and blurred into a carefree blob.
"Who is that couple, Vernon?" I heard one of Vernon's blank faced cousin's hiss into the newly married man's ear.
Vernon looked absolutely livid and he had turned a lovely shade of mauve. It suited him more than his usual skin tone.
"Some crack-pot magician and his girlfriend- have you tried the wine yet? It's smashing." He said it so quickly, it was as if he was a tape on fast-forward. I was sure the cousin had only caught every second word.
He proceeded to bustle off, plain faced relative in tow, shooting us looks of utter disgust as he went. James was busting a gut with laughter by now and when the next song came on, he decided to slow it down.
"Crack-pot magician huh? That's actually a good insult, what do you think, Mrs. Almost Potter?" he said, looking me seriously in the eyes, acting like he was giving an interview for the Daily Prophet.
I pretended to ponder my response, humming for a few moments before giving a dramatic eye-widening, sincere expression when I found my answer.
"Oh yes, I think he's been practicing. Good show Mr. Dursley, good show!"
James chuckled, before continuing.
"And how do you feel about marrying said crack-pot, Mrs. Almost Potter?"
I went through the whole process again before answering, this time wrapping my arms around his neck and resting my forehead against his.
"Don't push your luck, Potter," I murmured quietly, so only he could hear, taking in the familiar flecks of purple and green in his hazel eyes. My smile was probably a dead giveaway to my actual feelings. The ones that had never been more sure of anything.
James grinned his charming Potter man smile, the smoldering one that made old ladies blush, his eyes bright as he read my expression.
"Now that's the woman I'm signing up to marry."
Willa was actually trying to pack neatly for once. First she folded five pairs of thick, fluffy socks and seven sweaters.
Then, giving up, she simply emptied a whole drawer full of long sleeves and jeans into her trunk.
She sat cross-legged on the floor in her pajamas, trying to decide between the really thick boots or the really really thick boots.
She tossed both in after a good few minutes of deliberation- concluding she could always wear the really thick boots for fancy occasions- if any should arise in Sweden. She doubted it, but still.
"I still object whole heartedly you know. Personally, I think you're off your rocker," remarked Ted dryly from where he was leaning against her doorframe, his expression strained and his eyes hard. It was his way of showing desperation- whenever he made that face, Willa would immediately stop what she was doing…and Willa didn't usually comply willingly with anyone.
It was just the way his mouth was stretched, like he wanted to complain and rave and say anything he could to stop her- it broke her heart of stone clean in half that he didn't ever give in to the longing.
Not ever.
But this time words were tumbling from his lips before he could examine them- forcing themselves into the light, clear, disapproving and…worried.
This happened to be more effective than his silent pleas and Willa already felt her resolve of goblin steel beginning to rust and crumble.
"Well…I…have to move out sometime…anyway," Willa answered uncertainly; her face flushed, an odd occurrence, as she continued to pack, keeping her back purposely turned away from her brother.
She thought that if she didn't see his face, she could keep her determination in one piece, like she could preserve it for longer- or at least until she was walking into the Department of Magical Games and Sports.
She heard a long heavy sigh- it was wistful and more understanding than her brother actually was at that point in time. Everything inside him knew he couldn't stop her- everything except his head that is.
The sigh and his body language expressed defeat, but his eyes didn't follow through. He was at her side now, kneeling next to her and tutting at the sight of her messy trunk- reminiscent of his own luggage, just a room over.
He, Andromeda and little Dora were visiting for a few days- Dora was at that moment icing hand-made short bread with her mother and Grandma.
Willa would be there too, praising the glorious mess, but she had too much weighing her heart down- she couldn't smile for Nymphadora with such suffocating thoughts swimming around her mind.
They were practically using it like a bloody paddling pool.
"I've been thinking Teddy-" Willa began, accidentally calling him what she used to address him by when she was five, only to be interrupted right away.
"Thinking too much it seems- where did my air head sister go?"
"Oh you're such a laugh Ted- she went on holiday to the Bahamas, that's where. Now will you listen?"
Ted chuckled as he attempted to fold one of her shirts- naturally he couldn't quite get the hang of it.
"Touchy. Fine, what's on your mind?"
Willa slouched and looked at her hands, chewing her lip as she wondered how to start. She wasn't good with these sort of things- they were too gooey for her liking.
"You know how I used to dress up like a witch, painting my face with finger paints and waving around a stick from the yard like a mad thing when I was younger? I was playing pretend. That's what I'm doing now. I'm pretending to pack to do something exciting- something I really think I can overcome and succeed at if I put my mind to it. I'm pretending I'm going on an adventure. But…"
"But?" Ted's voice was gentle and smooth, like undisturbed water. There was only a slight undertone of curiosity. Willa thought briefly that he must have developed such a soothing voice from singing all those lullabies to Nymphadora.
He wasn't going to push her, that much was certain. Willa struggled inwardly for a bit before continuing.
"But I don't think certain circumstances will let that happen- I can't just run away. I'm not six anymore, sadly."
"You're talking about The Order of the Phoenix aren't you?" Ted murmured quietly, giving up on folding the shirt and stuffing it back into her trunk.
"Of course. But I'm still going to enter the Swedish Short-Snout race- I just don't know when."
Ted's eyes were thoroughly defeated now. "Fine- but come back in one piece alright? I don't fancy having half a sister."
Mr. Evans was having a perfectly normal morning. He pottered around the garden for a bit, watering his petunias and lilies, checking on his sunflowers and trimming his hedges- but leaving some of it unruly.
He didn't like perfection- he found flaws to be more enticing. Besides, he thought as he lowered his hedge clippers, plants aren't meant to be cut back anyway.
He immediately thought of his daughter, Lily, at that. He hadn't cut her back, he'd let her bloom and grow and become something truly breath-taking, what with her magic and life unfolding before her.
Yes, he'd let her go to Hogwarts, let her become a person she could be proud to be.
As he fiddled with the lawn mower, which was throwing a wobbly and refusing to cut anything shorter- except for his nerves, he thought of his eldest daughter's wedding.
He had pulled up his socks that day and dealt with it. It wasn't his sort of scene, but he smiled for Tuney and walked her down the sugary pink aisle, like a good father.
Lily had danced with her boyfriend that day- they looked wild- like a pair of comets whizzing through the sky, swept up in the moment- and Mr. Evans had been disapproving. But he kept his silence.
He had stamped on his complaints as soon as he had seen his daughter smile- smile like she had never smiled at home, or with her sister.
Wrapped up in the arms of that boy- with the messy hair and foreign hazel eyes, the one with the deceiving grin and broad shoulders- his daughter had smiled with her eyes. Her face lit up like the sun instead of a light bulb and sparks flew off the two of them like a fireworks display.
It looked dizzyingly intense and the connection was undeniable. It reminded Mr. Evans of him and his wife- whom he couldn't imagine life without; now that he was becoming older, heading well into his golden years.
And so, after lamenting all that, the old man wiped his oily hands on his trousers, headed inside and entered his kitchen, thinking of a piece of carrot cake and tea, wondering if Mrs. Evans was still out shopping with Lily, going through the motions.
Suddenly, he stopped mid-way in the action of filling the kettle, gaping like a fish, as a streak of silver flashed into the center of his kitchen, forming itself into the shape of a regal looking stag.
There was a loud, ear-shattering clang as Mr. Evans dropped the kettle and gave a silent scream, like his wife after spotting a spider.
"Hello Mr. Evans, I'm sorry for the whole patronus message thing- it must be shocking. I hope I haven't given you too much of a fright. I was just fiddling about with it and when I managed it I thought- hey, sure, why not? Might as well show off a bit!"
Mr. Evans swung around wildly, looking for the source of the voice, thinking that his old mind was playing cruel tricks on him.
"A-anyway," the voice continued, "I'm sending this ahead of me, I want to have a word with you concerning your daughter- Lily. It's important- I'm hoping like mad she's not home."
"She isn't," Mr. Evans answered instinctively, clutching the counter and taking deep calming breaths. He realized that the voice was coming from the mirage like creature in the middle of his kitchen.
"Well, that's all I think. I'll be over in about- say, six seconds? Wait, make that ten."
The stag dissolved into the air like a wisp of smoke and the voice died away, leaving an echoing silence behind it. Then, as soon as Mr. Evans's heart-rate had returned to normal, there was a loud crack and a tall, gangly male had appeared before him.
"I hate apparition- I'd much sooner fly," the youth remarked, straightening up and giving Mr. Evans a familiar untrustworthy smile.
It was his daughter's boyfriend.
"Sorry for intruding Mr. Evans, but I did send word first," he continued, somewhat uncertainly.
The stunned old man just gaped at him.
What a way to impress the in-laws James! Anyway, I'm happy I finally got the first chapter out and I'm eagerly anticipating getting time to write the next one. It feels so good to get a nice, clean slate!
Thanks guys, until chapter two yeah?