He saw the empire explode in a wrath of purple flames and many blue sparks, with families clinging onto one another, hoping, praying for one-another's life, and watching the people so close, dissapear in a bellowing light of flames, and going away forever. They could hear the screams, the cries, of the childrem separated from their mothers, and husbands calling for their wives, and in the distance, the wives calling back. They could see their life, played like a movie on a screen of flames, flashing, and cackling, and mocking. They saw other families, holding onto one-another, as if there were no tomorrow. They smelled blood, and with the blood, came many other smells, but all were too faint. They had reached what seemed like hell, the firey pits of their hell, and their minds drifted away for just a split second, picturing what it would be like just to see their homes once more. How this all started, no one knew, but they did know that the cries of the people, the terrifying screams and the blood-curdling noises made them want to go away from their home-land. Go away and never come back. Never. They could taste disaster, they could feel lives dropping out from under them, losing their people one by one. All they could imagine was home, home and family; home, family, and biscuits in the oven, and the coziness of what they liked to call a fire. But this fire that they dreamed of was none like the one that they were experiencing now. The one now was black, dark, and evil. The one in their home shone a fresh shade of scarlet, as red droplets of flames sometimes peeked out, and the whispy smell of smoke drifted out of an open window. This fire was good. But no ordinary fire shone green through the black flames and hid mysteries of darkness beneath its flames. A horrified yet beautiful face, the snap of a whip, the turning of a chair, and blonde, gorgeous hair falling to the ground...
James Potter awakened. What was that? He closed his eyes and tried to picture it again. The black fire, the cackling noise, and that beautiful, pink face... it strained his mind to think of it. What did a dream have any signifigance anyway? He picked up his wand from his bed-side table and tapped it to his head. "Stop being stupid, James." He said to himself. "It was only a dream, just a stupid, pointless dream." He wanted to believe it, but somehow he just couldn't. "And even if it was somehow important... but its not... how in the world would an 10 year old boy like me know about anything of the sort? I bet it was just a stupid dream that wasn't even important. It was just a dumb old dream..."
"JAMES!!!!" A voice sounded from the downstairs kitchen. "JAMES!!!!!!! Wake yourself up, boy! Don't lollygag around this house! Get down here and eat your breakfast. We're having bacon."
"Yuck, that disgusting muggle food again? We've eaten that every morning for the last two weeks!" James complained, yelling loudly so that his grandmother could hear him.
"Boy, you've gotta respect what you've got! Why, when I met up with..." James' grandmother, Meayndria, started.
"Grammy, you've told this story a billion times! When you met up with Professor Dumbledore, you were extremely thankful that you even had the chance to, and blah, blah, blah, BLAH! But Grammy, I'm tired of the muggle food, and Grams, we're not muggles, and YOU yourself even said that you would never want to be a muggle." James began to walk down the stairs, still in his night robes. He marched into the kitchen and plopped onto a chair.
"Yes, it true, I said that, I admit, BUT... the muggles sure have DAMN good food! He he he!" The grandmotherly cackle- and the cursing, mind you- were all very normal inside of the Potter household. Meayndria shuffled over to James' chair and slapped 2 wavy brown slices of bacon on a shiny plate in front of him. "Eat up!" She said, beaming at James.
"Fine."
Two minutes later, a very pretty woman with curly black hair, big, blue eyes, and a small, round face dawdled into the kitchen. She yawned, and tightened her belt on her bathrobe. "What's for breakfast?" She asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Bacon." said James.
"Again?" the woman asked.
Meayndria butted into the conversation. "Hey, you've gotta be thankful for what you've got! Why, when I met up with Professor Dumble-"
"Yeah, we know," The woman said. "We've only heard it, oh, i dunno, about 6 THOUSAND TIMES!! Ma, you've gotta lay off the old stories. They're getting really, well, old."
"That's what your son said." Meayndria interrupted. Only he thinks I said it a billion times. I guess you lost count."
"Mom," James asked. (the woman was his mother) "Can we have something different tomorrow?"
"Well, if I get up before Gram Gram!" She said. James' mother was thin and tall, about 5' 11'' and very beautiful. Her hair was long and black and curly, and her eyes were huge, and they were blue, and she had long, black eyelashes, and thin brown eyebrows. She seemed to look equally beautiful throughout the day, and when she put a dress on, she dazzled even Meayndria (Who was very hard to please!). Her name was Missy. Her former name was Missy Binghamton, but now she was Missy Potter. But usually, everyone called her Mee.
"If you don't like my cooking, I suggest you get your OWN reciepe! But I thought mine was just peachy!" Meayndria said.
***
Messy, Black hair peeked through a black fire. A cry, and a whimper, and then a snap of a whip, and the turning of a chair, and fire, lots of fire, and then someone screamed...
"What an awful dream!" Lily Rockmore said aloud. "What in the world was that? Well, dreams really have no signifigance..."
"Shut up!" Said a muffled voice from the bed next to hers. "I'm trying to sleep. And I CANT sleep if my little 10-year-old sister can't keep her mouth shut! Who are you talking to, anyway, yourself?"
"Yeah. Sorry Petunia. I'll be quiet."
"Good."
Lily hoisted herself off her bed and down the stairs. Her mother, Rose, was sitting at the table. "Oh, Good morning dear!" She said.
"What's for breakfast?" Lily asked.
"Oh, just bacon dear." Rose replied
"Mother, we've had bacon every day for almost 2 weeks! I'm getting a bit bored with it." Lily pleaded.
"Dear, we should apprieciate what we have. How would you like it if you were poor, no money or anything! How would you like that?"
"I guess not. But it's getting a bit tiring to stare at bacon every morning. Please Mum, can we have something else tomorrow?"
"Well, alright, but dont' tell Nana." Rose gave in.
"Oh, thank you Mother! No, no I won't ever tell Nana!" Lily said, excitedly.
"Where's Petunia?" Rose asked.
"Oh, she's still upstairs. Wan't me to go wake her up?"
"Okay, but don't tell her I put you up to it. She'll hurt me!" Rose said. Lily loved her mother. Sometimes she acted liked a friend of Lily's, because Lily had no real friends, and no father. Her father had died when she was six. Only 4 years before that very day. He was killed in an awful car-crash. he had hit, head on, to a bus, and when they found him, only his head remained un-tattered or ripped apart. Lily missed him, she craved to hear his voice again. She had dreams about him being alive again all of the time. And she knew there was something about him that was hidden...
Lily led a pretty normal life. She attended St. Rosmary's school for girls. She liked school more than the next little girl did, and she usually spent the afternoon reading through material that she had trouble understanding. He mother sometimes began to grow worried about her. She thought that Lily chould have friends, or at least love to go out and play sometimes. Lily was always house-bound, tied up with some, "extremely inportant project thats due next month..." that she MUST finish at that instant. It was very strange how much Lily acted so stiff when it came to homework.
"PETUNIA!!!" Lily screamed
"Whaaaaaaattttt" came a grumble from upstairs.
"WAKE UP!!!!"
"No! Its saturday!"
"But its time for breakfast!"
"I dont care!"
"But-"
"Shut up, Lily!"
Suddenley Rose recognized the commotion and attended to it immedietly. "Petunia, you come down here right now and eat your breakfast. Mothers order!" Sticking up for Lily, it seemed, was Rose's job as a mother, and a friend.
"Fiiiiiiinnnnnne!" A figure began flopping down the stairs. A tall, 12 year old girl with a very long neck and short, straight, blonde hair appeared in sight. Her name was Petunia, and she was Lily's older sister. If you asked Lily, she would say that Petunia was a, "Pest and a half!" which is what Petunia would grow up to become.
Petunia dawdeled her way over to the kitchen table and sunk into her chair. Then she mumbled, "Wassss fer breakfast?"
"Bacon," Rose replied, sounding very straight-forward.
"AGAIN?!?!?!?" Petunia screamed, almost knocking over the two empty dishes stacked on the fold-out table.
Rose rolled her eyes. "Yes, again. I'm sorry Princess Petunia, I'm at your service now, dear Petunia, what WOULD you like for breakfast?"
"Uh- Petunia said. "What?"
"Never mind," Rose replied, rolling her eyes again.
"So," Lily butted in, changing the subject. "I can't wait until one week!"
"And WHY might that be?" Petunia asked throwing her head back as if to tell Lily to shut up.
"Cuz it's my birthday... only one week away. August 31."
***
Thursday, August 30, was gloomy and rainy. James sat on the sill of his bedroom window and stared blatantly to the outside. His eyes closed. Tomorrow's my birthday! He thought. Tomorrow. Only one day away. One day. He had already recieved notice from Hogwarts school that he was accepted into it. He was very excited, but nervous. He had never done much magic before, his mother had taught him only simple spells. He wondered deeply if he would fit in. He knew that his friend Sirius would be accompanying him to the school. James had only heard light talk about Hogwarts. He had heard that Dumbledore was insane. From what his Grandmother had told him, it surley seemed as if he were quite abnormal, if he could relate in any way to the obscure fact that his grandmother was slowly and surley going senial.
The rain splattered against the glossy window. The knife-like grass seemed melancholy and forlorn. A red van pulled into the driveway next to James', splashing muddy water onto the side of the rust-stained garage. Was this really what life was like? To James, a cooing Mourning Dove wasn't just a bird. It was a whole world inside of itself, teeming with life and proseperity. He feared this world. He feared everything about it. And what he feared most was that this world was turning inside out. This world was becoming that world, and so on. But nobody knew that James was different on the inside, thinking strange thoughts and having vivid premonitions. It was only a dream. James thought.
***
Lily glanced out the window. Rain poured down from the sky. Once her mother had told her that rain was God's tears. Lily believed everything her mother said. She wondered why God was crying. Everything had seemed so wonderful... a minute ago. She felt pain for God in her heart. She wanted to help him. A sudden downpour of water off of the roof stained her window with fog and mist. Was this what life had to be like? Dreary? Ever since that fateful day, nothing, nothing had been the same. She didn't want this to be the real thing, not here, not now. It couldn't just end at this. The world to her now seemed surreal, almost like it wansn't the world she had known all of her life, and she hated it. She was going nowhere and dragging everything she loved along with her. Something had to happen, and fast, before she snapped.
"Lily!" Her mothers soothing voice snapped her back to reality.
"Yeah?"
"There's a letter for you down here!"
"Coming!" A letter? But she never got any mail. Who could it be from? She made her way down the finish-coated staircase. Her mother handed her the letter quickly, not giving it a second glance, as if she had known who it was from. Lily stared at the letter. In green ink, with a candlewax seal, the letter clearly stated, "Lily Rockmore, The second door on the right."
***
James Potter awakened. What was that? He closed his eyes and tried to picture it again. The black fire, the cackling noise, and that beautiful, pink face... it strained his mind to think of it. What did a dream have any signifigance anyway? He picked up his wand from his bed-side table and tapped it to his head. "Stop being stupid, James." He said to himself. "It was only a dream, just a stupid, pointless dream." He wanted to believe it, but somehow he just couldn't. "And even if it was somehow important... but its not... how in the world would an 10 year old boy like me know about anything of the sort? I bet it was just a stupid dream that wasn't even important. It was just a dumb old dream..."
"JAMES!!!!" A voice sounded from the downstairs kitchen. "JAMES!!!!!!! Wake yourself up, boy! Don't lollygag around this house! Get down here and eat your breakfast. We're having bacon."
"Yuck, that disgusting muggle food again? We've eaten that every morning for the last two weeks!" James complained, yelling loudly so that his grandmother could hear him.
"Boy, you've gotta respect what you've got! Why, when I met up with..." James' grandmother, Meayndria, started.
"Grammy, you've told this story a billion times! When you met up with Professor Dumbledore, you were extremely thankful that you even had the chance to, and blah, blah, blah, BLAH! But Grammy, I'm tired of the muggle food, and Grams, we're not muggles, and YOU yourself even said that you would never want to be a muggle." James began to walk down the stairs, still in his night robes. He marched into the kitchen and plopped onto a chair.
"Yes, it true, I said that, I admit, BUT... the muggles sure have DAMN good food! He he he!" The grandmotherly cackle- and the cursing, mind you- were all very normal inside of the Potter household. Meayndria shuffled over to James' chair and slapped 2 wavy brown slices of bacon on a shiny plate in front of him. "Eat up!" She said, beaming at James.
"Fine."
Two minutes later, a very pretty woman with curly black hair, big, blue eyes, and a small, round face dawdled into the kitchen. She yawned, and tightened her belt on her bathrobe. "What's for breakfast?" She asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Bacon." said James.
"Again?" the woman asked.
Meayndria butted into the conversation. "Hey, you've gotta be thankful for what you've got! Why, when I met up with Professor Dumble-"
"Yeah, we know," The woman said. "We've only heard it, oh, i dunno, about 6 THOUSAND TIMES!! Ma, you've gotta lay off the old stories. They're getting really, well, old."
"That's what your son said." Meayndria interrupted. Only he thinks I said it a billion times. I guess you lost count."
"Mom," James asked. (the woman was his mother) "Can we have something different tomorrow?"
"Well, if I get up before Gram Gram!" She said. James' mother was thin and tall, about 5' 11'' and very beautiful. Her hair was long and black and curly, and her eyes were huge, and they were blue, and she had long, black eyelashes, and thin brown eyebrows. She seemed to look equally beautiful throughout the day, and when she put a dress on, she dazzled even Meayndria (Who was very hard to please!). Her name was Missy. Her former name was Missy Binghamton, but now she was Missy Potter. But usually, everyone called her Mee.
"If you don't like my cooking, I suggest you get your OWN reciepe! But I thought mine was just peachy!" Meayndria said.
***
Messy, Black hair peeked through a black fire. A cry, and a whimper, and then a snap of a whip, and the turning of a chair, and fire, lots of fire, and then someone screamed...
"What an awful dream!" Lily Rockmore said aloud. "What in the world was that? Well, dreams really have no signifigance..."
"Shut up!" Said a muffled voice from the bed next to hers. "I'm trying to sleep. And I CANT sleep if my little 10-year-old sister can't keep her mouth shut! Who are you talking to, anyway, yourself?"
"Yeah. Sorry Petunia. I'll be quiet."
"Good."
Lily hoisted herself off her bed and down the stairs. Her mother, Rose, was sitting at the table. "Oh, Good morning dear!" She said.
"What's for breakfast?" Lily asked.
"Oh, just bacon dear." Rose replied
"Mother, we've had bacon every day for almost 2 weeks! I'm getting a bit bored with it." Lily pleaded.
"Dear, we should apprieciate what we have. How would you like it if you were poor, no money or anything! How would you like that?"
"I guess not. But it's getting a bit tiring to stare at bacon every morning. Please Mum, can we have something else tomorrow?"
"Well, alright, but dont' tell Nana." Rose gave in.
"Oh, thank you Mother! No, no I won't ever tell Nana!" Lily said, excitedly.
"Where's Petunia?" Rose asked.
"Oh, she's still upstairs. Wan't me to go wake her up?"
"Okay, but don't tell her I put you up to it. She'll hurt me!" Rose said. Lily loved her mother. Sometimes she acted liked a friend of Lily's, because Lily had no real friends, and no father. Her father had died when she was six. Only 4 years before that very day. He was killed in an awful car-crash. he had hit, head on, to a bus, and when they found him, only his head remained un-tattered or ripped apart. Lily missed him, she craved to hear his voice again. She had dreams about him being alive again all of the time. And she knew there was something about him that was hidden...
Lily led a pretty normal life. She attended St. Rosmary's school for girls. She liked school more than the next little girl did, and she usually spent the afternoon reading through material that she had trouble understanding. He mother sometimes began to grow worried about her. She thought that Lily chould have friends, or at least love to go out and play sometimes. Lily was always house-bound, tied up with some, "extremely inportant project thats due next month..." that she MUST finish at that instant. It was very strange how much Lily acted so stiff when it came to homework.
"PETUNIA!!!" Lily screamed
"Whaaaaaaattttt" came a grumble from upstairs.
"WAKE UP!!!!"
"No! Its saturday!"
"But its time for breakfast!"
"I dont care!"
"But-"
"Shut up, Lily!"
Suddenley Rose recognized the commotion and attended to it immedietly. "Petunia, you come down here right now and eat your breakfast. Mothers order!" Sticking up for Lily, it seemed, was Rose's job as a mother, and a friend.
"Fiiiiiiinnnnnne!" A figure began flopping down the stairs. A tall, 12 year old girl with a very long neck and short, straight, blonde hair appeared in sight. Her name was Petunia, and she was Lily's older sister. If you asked Lily, she would say that Petunia was a, "Pest and a half!" which is what Petunia would grow up to become.
Petunia dawdeled her way over to the kitchen table and sunk into her chair. Then she mumbled, "Wassss fer breakfast?"
"Bacon," Rose replied, sounding very straight-forward.
"AGAIN?!?!?!?" Petunia screamed, almost knocking over the two empty dishes stacked on the fold-out table.
Rose rolled her eyes. "Yes, again. I'm sorry Princess Petunia, I'm at your service now, dear Petunia, what WOULD you like for breakfast?"
"Uh- Petunia said. "What?"
"Never mind," Rose replied, rolling her eyes again.
"So," Lily butted in, changing the subject. "I can't wait until one week!"
"And WHY might that be?" Petunia asked throwing her head back as if to tell Lily to shut up.
"Cuz it's my birthday... only one week away. August 31."
***
Thursday, August 30, was gloomy and rainy. James sat on the sill of his bedroom window and stared blatantly to the outside. His eyes closed. Tomorrow's my birthday! He thought. Tomorrow. Only one day away. One day. He had already recieved notice from Hogwarts school that he was accepted into it. He was very excited, but nervous. He had never done much magic before, his mother had taught him only simple spells. He wondered deeply if he would fit in. He knew that his friend Sirius would be accompanying him to the school. James had only heard light talk about Hogwarts. He had heard that Dumbledore was insane. From what his Grandmother had told him, it surley seemed as if he were quite abnormal, if he could relate in any way to the obscure fact that his grandmother was slowly and surley going senial.
The rain splattered against the glossy window. The knife-like grass seemed melancholy and forlorn. A red van pulled into the driveway next to James', splashing muddy water onto the side of the rust-stained garage. Was this really what life was like? To James, a cooing Mourning Dove wasn't just a bird. It was a whole world inside of itself, teeming with life and proseperity. He feared this world. He feared everything about it. And what he feared most was that this world was turning inside out. This world was becoming that world, and so on. But nobody knew that James was different on the inside, thinking strange thoughts and having vivid premonitions. It was only a dream. James thought.
***
Lily glanced out the window. Rain poured down from the sky. Once her mother had told her that rain was God's tears. Lily believed everything her mother said. She wondered why God was crying. Everything had seemed so wonderful... a minute ago. She felt pain for God in her heart. She wanted to help him. A sudden downpour of water off of the roof stained her window with fog and mist. Was this what life had to be like? Dreary? Ever since that fateful day, nothing, nothing had been the same. She didn't want this to be the real thing, not here, not now. It couldn't just end at this. The world to her now seemed surreal, almost like it wansn't the world she had known all of her life, and she hated it. She was going nowhere and dragging everything she loved along with her. Something had to happen, and fast, before she snapped.
"Lily!" Her mothers soothing voice snapped her back to reality.
"Yeah?"
"There's a letter for you down here!"
"Coming!" A letter? But she never got any mail. Who could it be from? She made her way down the finish-coated staircase. Her mother handed her the letter quickly, not giving it a second glance, as if she had known who it was from. Lily stared at the letter. In green ink, with a candlewax seal, the letter clearly stated, "Lily Rockmore, The second door on the right."
***