Title: Simplicity And It's Complications

Rating: PG-13 to be safe, but that may be lowered...

Author: Shree

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize from the Harry Potter series.

Summary: Life's simple, life's complicated...most of the world is divided between these two statements (the majority leaning towards the latter, and who can blame them?). But what if neither was correct? Story of my life...PG-13 to be safe

A/N: I honestly hadn't realized it'd been almost a year since I wrote this. So much has happened since. I feel I've grown as a writer. At least a little bit, anyway. And, I'm now a faster typist! Always a plus. Anyway, I thought I'd continue this story. I read it over, and I didn't think it was that bad. I hope it won't be another year before this is updated again.

The moment I got my letter to Hogwarts, my life was turned upside down. My sister called me a freak, my mom started crying, and my dad just stared at me. At first, I thought they were mad. Angry that their family had been tainted with such a person. A witch! How wrong I was! My mother was crying tears of joy and my dad was just plain shocked! Petunia, on the other hand, seemed to hate me for being what I was. What I proudly stand as today.

When we were little, Petunia was my friend, and I hers. We would always play make-believe together, raiding my mother's closet for outfits and ideas. More often than not, we would be two princesses, trapped in a castle, waiting for our knights in shining armor (on white horses, no less) to arrive and save us from the peril that the evil dragon would bestow upon us. I remember times like these, and realize that these were the moments when we were closest. When we had something in common. When we were truly sisters.

I look back on the good old days and wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gotten my letter. Would we be close sisters? Would we gossip about guys and fashion and who was going out with whom? Would she smile at me? Would she look me in the eye? Sadly, I will never know for certain. Because I did get my letter, and my sister avoids me like the plague because of it. Do I wish things were different between us? Of course I do. I don't think family members should hate each other as much as she hates me. But would I give up the world I know now because of her? I can't say that I would, no matter how much respect you've just lost for me. Being a witch is a privilege-- my privilege.

After Petunia's reaction, though, I really did feel like a freak. The days that preceded September the 1st, I constantly fretted. Would I make any friends? Would everyone be like me? Would I be able to survive the classes? What about the teachers? Would they like me? And, most importantly, What if I was a freak among the "freaks"?

Of course, when I walked through the barrier at platform 9 3/4, I belonged straightaway. In fact, taking my first glance around, I felt like I was the only normal one there! There were several older-looking boys marveling over a yo-yo. They were flinging it down and watching it come back up as if it was a Godsend! Then there were these three girls who looked to be my age squealing over an obviously fake rat, then finally flattening it with one of their feet. Of course, the next people I saw were two boys, one with striking blue eyes hidden under glasses and a mess of black hair, and the other with a mischievous glint in his eyes, who came rushing forward, exclaiming over how the girls had ruined their rat. The girls shook their heads and walked away, failing to notice the boys pull two more rats from their pockets, and then chasing after them. Honestly, the only question running through my mind and that moment was, What if I'm the normal one among the freaks? I'd obviously then be the outcast. I suddenly felt very scared.

Despite this, I knew I had to uphold my pride. So I confidently grabbed my trolley handle and walked towards the scarlet train that was to take me to my new home for the next ten months.

Of course, I had walked a total of five steps before a hand gripped my shoulder and spun me around. I looked at the hand with wide eyes, and then at the arm that was connected to it, and then drew my eyes towards the face that this limb belonged to. The first thing I noticed about his face was his eyes. He couldn't have been much older than I, and yet I felt like his eyes had seen so much more than I. The equivalent of fifty years. His hair was a light brown, accenting his thin face. And for some reason, he looked incredibly tired. I squirmed slightly when I noticed this.

Noticing my obvious discomfort, the boy withdrew his hand from me. Then, "Sorry to scare you, it's just..."

I nodded, waiting for the rest of his sentence.

"...well, you've got my trolley." He finished, looking quite uncomfortable.

I was mortified. I'd made a complete idiot of myself in front of the first person I'd met at my new school. I could have died. Just my luck, I was still breathing.

"Oh, I am so sorry! I am honestly the biggest idiot in the world! I can't believe this. I haven't even got on the train and I've made a complete fool of myself!" I rushed, making myself look like an even bigger loser, in case it wasn't already apparent to this boy.

He chuckled slightly, his eyes glinting, "It's quite all right. No need to feel embarrassed, really. I've done worse."

I found this hard to believe, "Really? In front of a complete stranger in a new place where you don't know anyone, and have to live with whatever first impression you give for the next ten months?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." His smile turned into a lopsided epitome of uncertainty.

"Hey!" He had me grinning.

I had him laughing.

"Honestly, it wasn't a big deal."

I was still uncertain, but didn't want to press further, "Well, thank you for telling me. Here's your trolley back."

He grinned, reaching for mine, "And here's yours."

We stood there for a moment of uncomfortable silence before we simultaneously decided to break the silence by putting our hands out to shake. We laughed and I introduced myself, "My name's Lily. Lily Evans."

He smiled, "Hello, Lily Evans, I'm Remus Lupin. Unusual name, I know, but I happen to like it."

I nodded, "It suits you."

The train's horn blew, signaling that it would be leaving shortly.

"Well, we better find some seats, huh?" Remus grinned. He offered to take my trunk from my trolley for me, but I declined. I didn't want to be a nuisance as well as a loser.

The train ride was, for the most part, a load of fun. Remus and I found a compartment with another first-year-- a plain-looking, but incredibly funny, girl --named Aria. We were fast friends.

Of course, the two rat boys I had seen earlier came by to introduce themselves...

"Hello, my name is Sirius Black," the brown-haired boy with the mischievous glint in his eye greeted.

"And I am the infamous James Potter," the messy-haired boy followed.

"Aria Stone."

"Remus Lupin."

"Lily Evans."

"Ah, a redhead, I like it." Sirius commented, nodding at my fiery hair. I shot him a look that implied what I thought he was on.

"Well, we should be going--" James started.

"...people to terrorize..."

"...enemies to make..."

"...fellow troublemakers to meet..."

James turned to us, "Hey, would any of you happen to be--"

"No." I replied firmly.

"No need to cut people off, Lillian, we're all friends here." Sirius stated.

I scoffed, "I don't even know you two, unless you count knowing the simple fact that you guys are complete lunatics as knowing somebody."

"And there's no need for name-calling!" James' voice turned hard.

"Yeah, we take that word very seriously!" Sirius added. Then he started chuckling as if he'd made some hilarious joke, "Haha, did you guys get that?"

James rolled his eyes at his friend and then turned to me, "Why are you being like this, Lillian? You don't know us, but you'd better hope you don't get on our bad side."

Normally a comment like this would've affected me greatly. I would have been scared to make enemies in a new place. But after spending the last few hours with Remus and Aria, I had gained a new confidence in myself.

"Ever heard that redheads have a fiery temper? Well, you better use this piece of knowledge as a bit of a warning. If you want to mess with me, you're going to get messed with yourself."

It was an empty threat, one I would regret making later. Especially when I realized how stupid I must have sounded. Even now I wish I'd at least thought about what I was going to say so I could come up with something at least halfway witty. But what was said was said, and I can't go back and change it. All I can do is recount it, in hopes that my embarrassment and stupidity will not be repeated by those who read these memoirs.

A/N: Okay, this was really poor, and I'm sorry, but oh well. At least I updated. Tomorrow (Christmas Eve!!) night I might get finished with chapter eight for That Thing You Do. Ah, the holidays really gives you motivation, doesn't it? Oh! Thanks to my reviewers:

Psychotic Teenager From Hell: Thanks, even if it's not true! ;)

Liss: Hopefully you read it!

Autumn Amethyst: Yeah, I will eventually tell you!

duckmiso: Well, thank you! I like the way you put it!

mystikalolo: I'm glad you like it! ;)

lalala: Font changed! It was hard even for me to read.

Jewels: That Thing You Do is next on my list of Things To Do, so don't worry! ;)

One Bright Star: Hey Sun! Haven't talked to you in awhile! 3

Also, I just wanted to inform everyone that I didn't have this chapter beta-ed, so it's probably full of mistakes! Sorry!